As an almost profession eavesdropper, moving halfway across the world to where I don’t speak the language has been like flying into a world of silence, almost like loosing the gift of listening. It has made me listen more carefully, to pick up the one or two words I understand, know.
But I often switch off. When I head home, it feels like everyone is shouting and I delight in the snippets of conversation I hear on buses or in shops and have to stop myself from joining in the conversation. Here that is not a problem.