How English feels.

Doesn't "feel" very English, this title, does it? - But I mean exactly what it says.

There is a different feeling to each language. M., my girlfriend, tells me I have a different voice, when I speak English on the phone. She always thought it came from talking with my American ex-wife. She knows better since those calls got sparse, and because that specific pitch of my voice remained when I spoke English with others. With M. I speak the Bernese dialect. We call it German, but no German has a chance to understand a word. Sounds Dutch to him, but certainly feels different. Speaking Dutch, you probably feel the roughness of the Northern Sea. Speaking Berndeutsch, feels rather like being a peasant from the hills. Not, if you speak it the way our patrician families still do. Then it feels like still fighting against Napoleon for your feudalistic privilegies. Even though there are a lot of French words mixed in, like signalling that one could get along, if not all of those privilegies would be taken away. That was indeed not the case, when Napoleon left, till today. They are still a little bit above the rest of us. That's what we feel, when we hear them speak.

But, how does it feel to speak English? I only can judge for myself. And for M., who tells me, that my face looks different, when I do. They say that bilingual babies know in which language you speak to them, from the expression of your face.

I feel more open, more related to the world. That's, in a nutshell, why I write this blog in English.