THE BILINGUAL MONOGLOT

 I’m not ashamed to admit that my brain seems to be melting, given the number of blanks I’ve been experiencing. Maybe I should say memory lapses, but since my brain is indeed having blackouts, my language is becoming more and more colloquial. Fancy, sophisticated, “gourmet” words weren’t common in the simple household where I grew up and was educated. They were acquired at the cost of endless reading, but they never quite stuck.

 
The other day, while going to the drugstore to buy a prescription medication, I discovered that I had forgotten the prescription at home. I got pissed and started complaining to the attendant about the harassment from Alzheimer’s that I seem to be suffering from. Of course, all of it was said with smiles and grimaces.
 
A young man waiting to be attended to commented on the need to learn new things to slow the progression of this disease. That was enough for the ever-interactive Jotabê to spark this dialogue:
- I’m thinking about learning German—to speak with Alzheimer!
- That’s a good idea, but it doesn’t have to be German; it can be another language.
 
Not knowing if he had caught the joke, retold a thousand times, I continued:
- I’m monolingual, I only know Portuguese and old slang.
- Ha-ha! Then learn English; it’s more useful when traveling abroad.
 
Considering the state of financial indigence I’m currently in, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the suggestion. But upon hearing such technical terms explaining that learning new things is fundamental, I couldn’t resist and said:
- Are you a neurologist?
- No, I’m a neuroscientist.
- Wow! A neuroscientist? Can I have your autograph?
 
We all laughed at this nonsense, and the conversation ended because I needed to go back home for the forgotten prescription. Today, reflecting on yet another interaction with strangers, I’ve come to the conclusion that I will try to learn English the same way my son did. With only the English taught at his school, he started reading books and RPG game manuals, all in English. The result? He is now fluent in Elon Musk’s language (terrible example!).
 
Since I’m not into any kind of games, not even the lottery, I’ll attempt a "jotabélico" method to achieve my goal. From this post onward, all texts I publish will be bilingual so I can reread them and try to understand what I (poorly) wrote in Tiririca’s language. First, with the help of Google Translator or ChatGPT, and later, on my own. Perhaps I’ll succeed, as I still have six years to practice before asking:
- Imagino que o senhor é São Pedro, acertei?