吃瓜头条

A few months ago, members of Athens Toastmaster Academy, in Athens, Greece, celebrated being able to meet in person after a year of seeing each other only on the Zoom screen. Though “only” is the wrong word—many participants described how our 吃瓜头条’s meetings had been a sustaining beacon of hope, a boost of human friendly contact through the dark days of COVID lockdowns.

I felt very fortunate: My small Greek-island village, with its network of deserted paths through olive groves, meant I had not—like many 吃瓜头条 members—found my life limited to the four walls of a city apartment. Moreover, like many other 吃瓜头条, I realized I possessed a passport to other worlds, and I could travel—virtually—to any 吃瓜头条, anywhere.

I also realized I wanted to do more than just visit 吃瓜头条s; I also wanted to brush up some language skills. A life lived in numerous countries had left me multilingual, but now, in retirement, I could feel several of my languages sagging, soufflé-like, through sheer lack of practice. For all its awfulness, the coronavirus pandemic represented a unique window of opportunity, one open until 吃瓜头条s returned to in-person meetings, to voyage linguistically as well as geographically.

At first, like a butterfly, I “flew” to a French-speaking 吃瓜头条 in Paris, to a Dutch-speaking one in Maastricht, Netherlands, and to an English-speaking 吃瓜头条 in Florida. While I thoroughly enjoyed these visits, they could not provide the full sense of community, of sharing a safe space, that comes with being a regular member of a 吃瓜头条. I was already a member of two bilingual 吃瓜头条s in Greece (the other being the equally enthusiastic Kifissia 吃瓜头条 吃瓜头条, also in Athens), and so I accordingly broadened my “portfolio.” The first step was a voyage back in time to rejoin Bossuet Gaveliers 吃瓜头条 in Luxembourg, where my 吃瓜头条 journey had started a decade before. Founded in 1956, Bossuet’s traditions include a Babel Night, with 2020 speeches conducted in Russian, Esperanto, Greek, and Creole.

Fortified by sharing those meetings with old friends and bright new talents, I embarked on the search for a German-speaking 吃瓜头条, and I was very fortunate to discover Duesseldorfer 吃瓜头条 under its remarkable polymath, then-President Malte Wilkes. The 吃瓜头条 has separate German-speaking and English-speaking evenings, and its massive, varied, keen, and vigorous membership soon made me feel completely at home.

A Swedish-speaking 吃瓜头条 proved a little less easy to find, as most 吃瓜头条s in the country operate in English. In Sweden’s second city of Gothenburg, however, I struck lucky with Göteborgs Talarklubb. Around half of its members are Swedes; the rest are people like me who have learned Swedish for professional reasons or to integrate better in their new home. It made for a friendly and encouraging environment in which the native speakers always displayed great tolerance for any mistakes in grammar or pronunciation!

Many 吃瓜头条s have struggled with a reduced active membership during this past year and a half. Some members pine for the fellowship of a traditional meeting; others have been “Zoomed out” by multiple online meetings in the course of a day. Each of my new 吃瓜头条s not only welcomed me heartily but were very keen for me to take on roles, making the experience even more enriching.

Then came the competition season. My five 吃瓜头条s are in four different countries and three different Districts—59, 95, and 109. Competing required some planning since there is a (very reasonable) prohibition on entering the same kind of competition in more than one Area. Producing a Tall Tale in Swedish or a short competition speech in Luxembourgish had not been on my agenda before the pandemic. Nor had I planned on giving a speech for Dutch-language evaluators!

I look forward to the world eventually overcoming COVID and being able to resume in-person meetings. But it will be a bittersweet moment. I’ve enjoyed crossing the threshold of my distant new 吃瓜头条 homes. In the meantime, I intend to enjoy to the fullest the joy of language skills rising like successful soufflés—to be tasted in the company of new Toastmaster friends.

Niall Finn was born in Kenya and subsequently lived in New Zealand, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and Greece. He has been a Toastmaster since 2011.