When Western celebs speak non-English language fluently

Trivial Fact of The Day: Nelly Furtado speaks fluent Hindi.


Surprising, ain't it?

I stumbled on a clip on Youtube where Sandra Bullock performs a speech in a nigh flawless German when it suddenly occurs to me:

Hey, which other West celebs can speak non-English language fluently?

The only language we ever heard them speaking on TV and news and theatres is English, de facto the only legal language allowed in Hollywood.

Hmm.

If you see Arnold Schwarzenegger speaking German, it won't be much of a surprise, considering his Austrian background.

But Kobe Bryant speaking Italian? Now that's one to ponder.

So my OCD took me into a bit of a google researching.

And found out some more multilingual Western celebs and the other language(s) they are fluent in:

Al Gore – Spanish
Alanis Morissette – French
Ashley Judd – French
Bill Clinton – German
Charlize Theron – Afrikaans
Christiane Amanpour – Farsi
Claudia Schiffer – French
Clint Eastwood – Italian
Colin Powell – some Yiddish
Condoleezza Rice – Russian
Emma Watson – some French
Hugh Grant – French
Jane Fonda – French
Jennifer Connelly – Italian and French
Jodie Foster – French
Johnny Depp – French
Kelly Clarkson – Greek
Leonardo diCaprio - German
Monica Bellucci – Italian, French, Spanish
Morgan Freeman – French
Mother Teresa – Albanian, Serbo-Croat, Bengali, Hindi
Natalie Portman – Hebrew, some French, German, Japanese and Spanish
Nelly Furtado – Portuguese, Hindi
Pope Benedict XVI – German, Italian, French, Spanish, Latin
Queen Elizabeth II – French
Renée Zellweger – German
Roger Federer – German, French
Salma Hayek – Arabic, Spanish, Portuguese
Shakira – Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and Arabic
Sidney Poitier – Russian
Tony Blair – French
Will Smith – Spanish

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I'm 16

Very young, ay?

But it's true.

Whenever I'm asked my age and I tell them that I'm 20, they always put a questioning face, "Really?"

Once I even jokingly showed my ID to an Army guy whom I just met at the mall, just to prove to him that I really am not lying that I am 20.

I would love to think this is one sort of compensation that God is giving me for the years I spent in idle...because in America, I'm always thought of by people as being several years younger than I really am.

Is it my voice?

Nope, my voice doesn't sound childlike.

Perhaps it is due to the Asian features on my face.

Some of you in Indonesia might think that I'm thought of as being younger due to my body size.

But nah.

In American standards, my body may be categorised as thin, but I definitely am not short.

As I don't have a measuring tape, I don't know how tall I am now. But rarely do I actually meet any boy between 18 to 22 years of age who is significantly taller than I am.

Especially when in church, when the attendees stand up, I can clearly see and count how many people who are taller than me.

Not many, I say.

A friend at work told me about my advantages of looking younger. She said, "When you reach 30, it will be easier for you to get a much younger wife".

I only laughed it off.

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A rainy winter

The concept may sound incompatible to some of you tropical beings..but yes, it does not always snow on Winter.

It rains too.

[Physics 101 here: Snow is what you get when it rains while the outside temperature is constantly below 0 C for several hours]

Depending on the outside temperature (which can rise from -5 to 5 C in a matter of hours), you can see all snow on your garden in the morning and see all of them completely gone melted by noon.

It didn't even snow on Christmas here, since the temperature barely goes below 1 C.

So now that I can have either rain or snow during winter, which one do I prefer?

I'd rather have snow.

When it snows, it can get very cold to -11 C, but at least you don't get wet while walking outside in the cold.

While having a milder temperature of 8 C is a trite if you consider how the rain can get your feet and denim soaking wet, thus increasing your body's vulnerability to outside chill.

Sleet (partially frozen rain) is what they call it.

Yikes. I'd rather hear the word "guillotine".

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Explaining radicalism: it's not really about religion after all

Whenever I mention my Indonesian heritage to the folks here, questions pop out.

Of course, they're curious. Unfortunately, the Indonesia they know are indeed the Indonesia they see on CNN..which is the 'hellish' Indonesia.

Some softened version of Indonesia is also known...the Indonesia they see drowning by the tsunami.

Gee.

I even remember someone asking me if I ever have to live in fear because of the bombings on Jakarta streets. To which I laughed.

One question comes out often, and I felt that it deserved a good explanation.

"Those fanatics you have there...why do they have so much hatred towards the West? How can they be so blinded by their religious doctrines?"

So I explained to them.

That when it comes down to the basics, it's not really about religion after all. And definitely not about hating the West in the first place.

It's about poverty.

Of the 240 million people in Indonesia, around 85% is Muslim and only less than 1% of that number is actually composed of radicals.

And from those 1% so-called "radicals", only from a very small number can we find the ""radicals" who truly believe in their cause. Like those with more gifted brains such as Amrozi or Imam Samudra.

A huge proportion of the rest do not even believe in the radicalised ideology. I daresay that even if one day the European Union or USA decided to give scholarship to all of their children, they would gladly accept it without questioning.

Why?

That huge proportion, who formed a majority of the so-called "radicals", live in poverty. They have family, live in small villages or earn mediocre wages working odd jobs or harvesting during these unpredictable seasons, and there isn't much glory to live for.

They just earn money today in order to bring that sesuap nasi (spoonful of rice) to the dinner table by dusk.

Just like them, their sons don't even finish the mandatory first nine years of schooling, and their descendants are doomed to live the lives like they had.

Until the day when the "recruiters" come...asking them to join a cause to fight for. A cause to die for.

Bombing malls and Western embassies or help the insurgents in Afghanistan, why not?

After all, there isn't much to thank the Western culture. They don't own a Toyota and their childrens don't have a Nike or a Blackberry or an iPod like their city counterparts do. If anything, the portrayal of Hollywood glamours only enhance what the "recruiters" say about how corrupted the West can be...while they have to struggle to live day by day.

Furthermore, by dying for that cause, they can become a martyr. Possibly bringing more spotlight to their impoverished villages and get the attention they are seeking.

Ironic, ain't it?

So it has always been the religion that gets the blame.

And I tell people, that it's not really about the religion after all.

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The yearning to speak Indonesian

I miss speaking the language.

If only at least, I could speak Indonesian with someone here.

And by saying "someone", I mean someone I can meet in real life, not online where I can only chat thru the monitor. Or thru phone call where I have to pay a hefty sum for my call balance.

"Someone" I can meet face-to-face and have a cup of tea with.

You know, as do all most newcomers to America who come from elsewhere, there is always a part of their heritage that they can still link to.

The Japanese newcomers in San Fransisco and Seattle can always find fellow Japanese there.

Italian speakers can always find anyone who speaks Italian when they come to New York City.

Pakistanis and Indians can always find their fellow people working in a grocery store or a minimart in all cities throughout the country.

And Mexicans...ah, don't ask. They're scattered everywhere in all industries, just like the Filipinos.

While it is a known fact that there is no Indonesian community here (except that one in Philadelphia), Indonesians have one common attribute when they come to the country:

A large proportion of them come to live in a big city and bring their family or come in to live close by to a friend.

While me?

Nope, no family. Unfair, I am one rare specimen. I just heard the news that Uncle R most likely won't be coming back to the USA too.

Gee. I thought he and I could live together once he's done with his business over there, if not close by.

No Indonesian friend nor family.

I believe that there is even not a single person who can understand Indonesian within a radius of 200 kilometres from Florence, because in order to find an Indonesian interpreter, one has to go to the city of Louisville, Kentucky.

What about an Indonesian restaurant?

There was one in Cincinnati, Ohio (where a plate of nasi goreng was sold for $17). Until last September, when the owner decided to relocate to Bali for good.

There is absolutely nothing in the region to link me with my Indonesian heritage, save for the internet.

Sad, ay?

I know..I'm exiled from any Indonesian links.

So I have made it a habit that when I send my prayers to God, I pray in Indonesian. I used to pray in English all the time when I was in Indonesia, but now that I can only speak English (or sometimes French) on a daily basis, I realised that God is perhaps the only single being left who can understand my native tongue.

And I also sing in Indonesian every now and then. Just sing out loud the known popular songs by Chrisye, Bunga Citra Lestari, Nidji, Letto, Gita Gutawa, Sheila on 7, Audy...

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