When last I blogged, I had just finished a difficult but satisfying Rosetta Studio session where I didn’t know this word and that word but managed to survive.
Since then, I have worked with a wonderful Rosetta Stone Concierge person who clued me in that I had accidentally signed up for a Unit 2 Studio that evening. NO wonder I didn’t know what was going on!
OK, I’m a dork.
Rosetta Stone has started sending out a notification about what Studio you are registered for. I got one for a course I took today, but didn’t for the first one I took so there is an improvement they made immediately. I think the guy who was in the first Studio with me had the same issue as me. The poor instructor! What a bunch of noobs!
Anyway, today, I took the Unit 1 Studio and had the same instructor and again, she was wonderful. But this time, I was pretty good too. I knew what I was supposed to know and she even taught me a few things like how to say, “I don’t know.” “Tôi không biết.” Bless her heart…………..
I will have to take the same Unit 1 session a few more times before I feel comfortable. I know the nouns. I know the pronouns. I am not as confident in the verbs.
I have to say that I am only about halfway through the Level One Vietnamese software module and I completely feel like I have gotten my money’s worth.
For those of you interested in hearing about the story of McKenna’s adoption and birthfamily, I have been tap dancing around starting that story until I get permission from her birthparents that it is ok for me to post pictures and how much they feel comfortable with me talking about.
And I am asking them using Google translate, so who knows what I’ve really said?? “Do you mind if we all sit down to eat giraffe omelets on a sandy painting?”
I can start the story by telling you that when we left for China and Vietnam on our big heritage trip last summer, we had given up hope of meeting McKenna’s birthmother. Hers was the only name we had. McKenna’s grandmother’s was the only picture we had (see above). The meeting, at the time, was so rushed and emotional we had not gotten her name. We had done some investigation that told us McKenna’s birthmother had moved away and couldn’t be found.
About six months before, McKenna had been asking a lot of questions about her birthmother. Do you think she loves me? What if she is dead and I never get to meet her? What if she doesn’t love me? What if she has other children? I thought could probably answer the question about love. I was pretty sure that McKenna’s birthmother loved her.
These questions also made me aware that McKenna needed or wanted some connection. So knowing that we were not going to get to meet the birthmother in Vietnam was a disappointment.
My own feelings about it were less complicated. There was another mother on the other side of the world who probably thought about her child. I wanted her to know McKenna was beautiful, had talent, was smart and was loved by us. And I had made a promise to McKenna’s birth grandmother when we met for those brief minutes in front of the Ministry of Justice in Thai Nguyen that we would bring McKenna back one day. So the most I hoped for was to find McKenna’s grandmother and maybe find out some things about the birthmother.
What happened instead was like hitting the lottery……………