The Transcendental Grace of Language

This is one of the short 1 page response essays I turn in every week for my Pensadores class. I wanted to share it with you all...its basically about the experience of truly learning a second language. (I realized I only really share stuff from this class with you all, but it's the easiest since it's already in English!) I wrote this one in response to our "agape" day in class. It was alot of fun. Our professor brought wine, bread, cheese and cokes for the whole class, and then we spent an hour and a half listening to some of the best essays people have written for this class in the past, and listening to people in the class share their talents. A couple of girls had brought a guitar and sang some songs, and my Nicaraguan friend sung her nation's anthem. At her urging, I decided to get up and sing too, and sang four verses of Amazing Grace:

“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. 
I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now I see. The Lord has promised good to me. 
His word my hope secures.
 He will my shield and portion be, as long as life endures.” What it is that gives these words such power? Why did they urge me to sing, to represent my language in class? After all I know plenty of Spanish songs others might’ve known too, why English? I could chalk it up to patriotism or nationalism. But the inspiration really had nothing to do with my nation, religion or culture. It is what the language in itself carries that moves me. As much as I study Spanish, as much as I live in the language, as much as I internalize its vision and understanding of the world, it can never reach as deep nor transcend as far as the language I learned from the womb.
But I could have never realized this so deeply if I had not abandoned my maternal language. By casting off the safety net of my country for the foreign waters of Chile, I forced myself to grasp the life lines of the Spanish language. Here, it is nothing short of the most crucial life line. Not because without Spanish I can’t ride the metro or find a place to eat, but because without it I am completely disconnected from the people around me. I would be a silent, unknowable person amongst a noisy, unknowable crowd. Without a language of a some sort, we cannot know one other. Lenguaje lleva lo que está adentro hacía afuera para manifestarlo en el mundo que los otros pueden percibir. Y al revés, el lenguaje del otro nos hace capaz de llevar adentro de nosotros lo que el otro ofrece. With language we grow towards each other by becoming fluent in each other’s own idiosyncracies, deepening our understanding of both ourselves and the other.
But what happens if I try to offer this understanding of myself in a foreign tongue? And what if I try to receive it? Spanish has been working its way into my soul and opening me to a new way of speaking. I have been delighted by the process of coming to understand the Spanish of those around me, como mis amigos Chilenos que hablan con la plenitud y profundidad de su lenguaje materno. Truly I have internalized much, and truly I have expressed much. It is a wonderful strangeness to be aware at once of my true inner self and at the same time aware of the foreign language through which that self is being expressed and understood. It is as if I woke up with someone else’s face but was still recognized by others as myself. And it is even stranger to find myself at a loss for words in my maternal tongue for something which the Spanish language captures perfectly. I am discovering the graces of Spanish to express what English cannot. El Español me ofrece algo que vuela más allá de las fronteras de mi propia lengua. It adds warmth to my prayers, tenderness to my letters of affection, a deeper shade of truth to my solitude, and a vibrant steak of heroism to my purpose in life.
But there are places that Spanish can never reach. And it is these parts of my soul that breath of sigh of relief when I offer prayers aloud English. It is these parts of my soul which rejoice in being understood by friends who share my language. It is these parts that yearn to be home again, these parts that feel my estrangement from home most acutely. It is these parts of my soul which sing Amazing Grace.