Dancing Tongues: Confessions of a Multilingual Mind

jul 19

9 min read

Ever paused mid-sentence, eyes darting as if searching a mental dictionary for just the right word—only to realize it doesn’t quite exist in English or Portuguese, or maybe only makes sense in a language your grandparents spoke? Welcome to my world.

For me, thinking, dreaming, and sometimes even arguing means hosting a daily dance party in my mind, where each language has its own rhythm and moves. Sometimes they glide together in perfect harmony; other times, they step on each other’s toes and leave me—and anyone listening—momentarily bewildered.

This piece is my invitation for you to join the party. Here, stories, laughter, and the occasional linguistic stumble are all part of the show. Whether you’re multilingual yourself or just curious about what goes on when the words start to mix, come see what happens when the music skips and the languages take the lead

1. Introduction

If you’ve ever found yourself in the middle of a passionate debate—whether at work, over dinner, or just navigating daily life—and suddenly had to stop, close your eyes, and mentally rifle through your language arsenal for that one elusive word or perfect expression… congratulations! You might be blessed (or cursed) with the “Multilingual Mind.”

For those of us who juggle more than one language, every heated discussion can turn into an Olympic event: who will get the right phrase across the finish line first? The stakes are simple—being understood, making your point, and (if you’re lucky) not looking like you’ve just blue-screened in front of your monolingual friends.

I’ve mastered English and Portuguese—sometimes both at once, sometimes somewhere in a secret code only my neurons recognize. But when things get intense and the conversation heats up, there’s that inevitable pause. I’ll freeze for a second, searching for the right words, and all eyes turn to me. Their faces say it all: curiosity, confusion, and—every now and then—a flicker of that unspoken “Aha! I knew he couldn’t keep up” superiority.

Anecdote: One time, in the middle of a team meeting, I was making an impassioned argument when suddenly every language in my head hit the brakes at once. I must have looked completely lost in space, because a colleague leaned over and whispered, “Need a reboot, João?” I couldn’t help but laugh—if only they knew the party happening inside my head.

It’s in those moments I realize: being multilingual is both a gift and a punchline, depending on who’s in the room. So here’s my tribute to all who live with a dance party of languages in their heads—and to the monolingual crowd, thanks for bearing with us during those split-second system reboots.

2. The Brain Nightclub

Step inside my mind on any given day, and you’ll find a scene that puts Studio 54 to shame. The doors open, and English glides in—first at the bar, sharp suit, always ready with a quick comeback and a solid one-liner. But soon enough, Portuguese saunters onto the dance floor, dressed in saudade and poetry, inviting everyone to slow down, linger on a memory, or argue for the sake of arguing.

The DJ’s booth is crowded: sometimes Kimbundu sneaks in, offering up a proverb that doesn’t quite have a cousin in either English or Portuguese. Spanish and French linger in the VIP lounge, ready to jump in whenever a borrowed phrase or international flair is needed.

And here’s the catch: they’re all dancing to slightly different beats. English wants efficiency—a brisk two-step. Portuguese, ever the romantic, is all about the lyrical waltz. Kimbundu throws in a rhythm that makes everyone pause, “wait—how do I even explain this?” It’s a full-on baile multicultural in my gray matter.

Every so often, these languages get into a turf war over the microphone. English tries to make a point. Portuguese insists on making it with feeling. Kimbundu throws in a saying that stumps the room, and suddenly, the whole party stalls while the DJ (yours truly) scrambles for the next track.

Some days, the transitions are flawless—a true code-switching samba. Other days, it’s a trainwreck of idioms and mixed metaphors that leaves the audience (my coworkers, family, or innocent bystanders) looking like they’ve just witnessed interpretive dance with no subtitles.

Yet, no matter how wild or chaotic it gets, the nightclub never closes. The groove goes on—sometimes smooth, sometimes clumsy, but always with the hope that one day, everyone in the room will catch the beat.

3. The Bilingual Stumble

Here’s where the party gets interesting. No matter how many languages you’ve got spinning in your mental playlist, there are those unforgettable moments when the music just… stops. Picture this: You’re on a roll, words flowing, the argument heating up, the punchline ready to land—and suddenly, your mind hits a pothole. Every language in your head slams on the brakes, leaving you frozen mid-sentence, eyes darting around as you search the ceiling for a word that, for the life of you, refuses to show up in the right language.

To the outside world, it looks like you’ve crashed—expression frozen, jaw slightly ajar, maybe even a hand gesture suspended in midair. Your audience stares. Some offer helpful (and wildly off-base) suggestions. Others just sit back, arms folded, with that look that says, “Ah, see? He’s not so fluent after all.” The dreaded superiority complex sparkles in their eyes.

Inside your head? Pandemonium. Portuguese is shouting suggestions from the back. English is frantically waving flashcards. Kimbundu is offering wisdom that doesn’t even have an English equivalent. You know exactly what you want to say—but only in a way no one else in the room will understand.

Every bilingual or multilingual person knows the feeling:

The word is right there—on the tip of your tongue… but your tongue is busy searching its language closet.
You’re mid-explanation, and your brain sends up a phrase that’s absolutely perfect… in the wrong language.
You land on an idiom that’s gold in Portuguese, but, translated, sounds like you’re describing a chicken trying to wear shoes.

It’s in those moments you realize the world expects you to be a walking, talking Google Translate, but sometimes, the WiFi signal in your head is just a little weak.

And so, you stumble. Sometimes you recover gracefully with a laugh or a shrug. Other times, you just invent a new word, forge ahead, and hope nobody notices—except, of course, they always do.

4. Translating the Untranslatable

Now comes the real test: those moments when the perfect word or expression blossoms in your mind—poetic, precise, and packed with meaning… but only in Portuguese. Or English. Or some hybrid your ancestors might recognize but your audience certainly won’t.

Take “saudade,” for example. You could try to explain it in English: a deep, nostalgic longing for someone or something lost, with an undercurrent of love and melancholy. But let’s be honest—by the time you’ve finished explaining, the feeling itself has probably aged ten years and grown a beard.

Or “desenrascanço”—that uniquely Portuguese ability to improvise a solution with nothing but sheer willpower and whatever’s lying around. The closest English can get is “MacGyvering,” but even that misses the quiet desperation (and occasional brilliance) that true desenrascanço requires.

And then there are the idioms. Oh, the idioms. Try telling your American colleagues that someone is “armado em carapau de corrida” (“acting like a racing mackerel”) or that you “está tonto” (“he’s dizzy”—but really, he’s just being ridiculous). Watch as their eyes glaze over, searching desperately for a familiar cultural landmark.

There are times you wish you could just broadcast the feeling, matrix style, directly into their heads. But instead, you find yourself piecing together clunky explanations, waving your hands, and sometimes settling for, “Never mind—it doesn’t really translate.”

It’s humbling, sometimes hilarious, and always a reminder: some parts of who we are simply refuse to fit neatly into a single language. But we try anyway, because every attempt is a little bridge—and every “Huh?” from the other side means you’ve given someone a tiny glimpse into another world.

5. Code-Switching Olympics

If there were medals for code-switching, every multilingual person would have a trophy case to rival Michael Phelps. Navigating a day means hopping from one language to another—sometimes mid-sentence, sometimes mid-thought, and sometimes without even realizing you’re doing it until you see the puzzled faces around you.

The true masters? They can shift gears between cultures and languages with barely a hitch. But even the pros have those gold-medal bloopers:

The Accidental Mashup: You start a sentence in English, fill in the gaps with Portuguese, toss in a Kimbundu saying for flavor, and wrap it up with an English punchline. To you, it’s seamless. To everyone else, it’s a linguist’s Rubik’s Cube.
The Water Cooler Slip: You casually mention that a colleague “está tonto” and only realize your blunder when your coworker starts wondering if he needs to call a medic or just give you some space.
The Phone Call Fumble: You’re on a call with family, switching effortlessly between languages. Suddenly, you answer your boss in perfect Portuguese, only to realize he’s still figuring out “bom dia.”

The real fun begins when you don’t even notice you’re switching. You talk to your bilingual friend and both of you keep changing languages, picking the one that best fits the feeling, the memory, or just the sound. Anyone listening in might think you’re making up your own dialect (and honestly, sometimes you are).

At its best, code-switching is a superpower: You can find the perfect word for any mood, the sharpest joke, or the most touching expression of care. At its messiest, it’s a contact sport—sometimes you land the jump, sometimes you land flat on your face.

But win or lose, there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing that every conversation is its own kind of Olympics, with the only rule being: just keep talking. Sooner or later, someone will get it—or at least applaud the effort.

6. The Gift and the Curse

Here’s the truth: Living with more than one language in your head is a double-edged sword—a marvel and a mischief-maker. On the good days, you’re a chameleon: blending in, picking the right tone, always ready with just the word or phrase that fits the mood. You can whisper sweet nothings in Portuguese, drop a dad joke in English, or summon a proverb from Kimbundu that leaves your friends awestruck (or just scratching their heads).

You can slip into a memory in one language and relive it in another. You know which jokes land best in which culture. You have a secret stash of idioms, nicknames, and expressions that make your closest friends feel truly seen.

But then there are the other days. The ones where you:

Can’t remember a basic word in either language and resort to sound effects and frantic hand gestures.
Accidentally give your children (or coworkers) advice that makes sense only if you grew up eating "bacalhau" (Cod fish) and singing "morna" (Cape Verde Folk Song).
Start a story in English, realize halfway through that the punchline only works in Portuguese, and have to choose between awkward translation or just giving up with a shrug.

And let’s not forget: There’s always that shadow of doubt from others. Sometimes people assume you’re showing off. Other times, they question your “authenticity”—are you really as fluent as you say, if you keep pausing, mixing, or inventing new words on the fly?

Still, for every stumble, there’s a leap. Every moment of confusion is balanced by a moment of pure connection—when you find the perfect phrase and see someone’s eyes light up, or when you bridge worlds for a friend who’d otherwise be left in the dark.

In the end, being multilingual is a passport to more than just places—it’s a backstage pass to the human experience. Sure, the journey comes with baggage (sometimes heavy, sometimes just lost in translation), but you wouldn’t trade the ride for anything.

7. Conclusion

So here’s to all of us who live with a nightly disco of languages in our heads—sometimes in perfect harmony, other times stepping on each other’s toes. We may pause mid-sentence, stumble over a word, or let an idiom slip that leaves the room in puzzled silence, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Being multilingual isn’t just about words. It’s about seeing the world through more than one lens, feeling at home in different cultures, and building bridges between people who might otherwise never understand each other. It’s a gift that sometimes masquerades as a curse, but, at its best, it makes every conversation richer, every story deeper, and every misunderstanding just a little bit funnier.

To our monolingual friends: thank you for your patience, your curiosity, and your occasional bewildered expressions. Trust us—half the time, we’re just as confused as you are.

And to all my fellow code-switchers, stumble-ers, and linguistic acrobats: keep dancing.

The party in your mind is one of a kind, and there’s always room on the floor for one more song, one more story, one more word that doesn’t quite translate… but is always worth sharing.