A day in the life of a final year modern languages student

When you think of the typical modern languages student, your mind may drift to exotic years abroad, eating croissants by the tour Eiffel and having the rare, but impressive, ability to expertly sing along to the entirety of Despacito – an accomplishment I am, regrettably, yet to add to my list. However, it can prove a bit of an uphill struggle to even begin to enjoy these absolutely top language degree benefits, and so, dear friends, come with me on a journey through the daily life of a final year modern languages student, who both adores her degree and cannot wait to say “adios” to student life…

After scoffing down the requisite jammy brioche or pain au chocolat (Tesco's own brand being my personal favourite) to kick my morning into gear, since I am about the only Italian student that detests coffee with a vehement passion, the day's festivities can begin. A series of high-intensity classes ensue in which I'm never quite sure if I'm speaking Spanish with a thick Italian accent, or, come to think of it, if I'm even speaking Spanish at all. They say that once you know one foreign language the rest come easily, but I doubt that I could have even a semi-coherent discussion with a native after 14 years of French learning. To make matters worse, any attempt at post-class conversation is met with a mixture of English and any one of those three languages that suddenly come into your head two hours after they would have actually been useful.

It would be entirely wrong to assume that by final year us language students are totally on top of it. In fact, at the beginning of each term the struggle to find the right classroom is real. Very real. I mean… why use the perfectly crafted Modern Languages Building to teach modern languages, when you could use the English, IR or Economics Building? One thing you can be assured of, however, is that each semester will involve some degree of discussion about the environment, because who doesn't love to talk about renewable energy sources continually for five years of their life? You'd be a fool not to. Aside from this, you may expect to be picked to answer the one question you n'as pas compris, after you slaved away the night before on the other 20 that were set for that lesson, or to burst into uncontrollable fits of embarrassed laughter when you have to ask your teacher to repeat a question three times before you, inevitably, still don't understand.

I might spend my downtime lamenting the magical ease of wandering aimlessly around Italy on my year abroad, getting paid for 12 hours-a-week of work, as I sit buried in piles of articles, compositions and reading comprehensions, all while fumbling around trying to learn at least five new words per language per day, watch French, Spanish and Italian news, while maintaining an active social life outside of my oral classes.

After the daily slog, for dinner I eat an exclusive mixture of pizza and pasta, supping on a glass (or two) of red wine – all in the name of maintaining a sense of cultural authenticity, of course. Though my bed calls to me longingly at around 9 pm, my “dedicated” work ethic keeps me awake until at least 1 am completing the weekly essays that I had been too tired to even think about starting at a sensible hour… c'est la vie.

Yet, I have faith that the difficulties of becoming multilingual will all be worth it in the end, when I am finally capable of singing along to Despacito like a true hispanohablante.

Non, je ne regrette rien!