Infants in the right stage of development are absolutely enthralled during my classes.

They stare at my face (especially my mouth).

They hang on my every word.

They giggle and coo and drool and are generally very happy throughout the 30 minutes that they are sitting in front of me.

But those who are beyond the sitting-and-listening stage and on to standing/scooting/walking (I call them the “movers and shakers”) need a completely different kind of setting for language learning.

From December, I’ll be offering a new series of classes designed for the older, more active learner.  These ten-to-fourteen month olds are beyond Lucky Baby but not yet ready for Lucky One.

Lucky Little One.  Should be fun!

I’m very excited about a new project I am launching this fall in Beijing!  I’ve spent months studying the latest research in infant language acquisition and have been especially intrigued by the most recent studies by Dr. Patricia Kuhl, co-director of University of Washington’s Institute for Learning and Brain Sciences and the work of Dr. Janet Werker at the University of British Columbia’s Infant Studies Centre.   Don’t miss Dr. Kuhl’s fascinating TEDX talk on the linguistic genius of babies!

It turns out that infants are geniuses at learning languages–they are born with the ability to recognize all sounds in all human languages but this ability diminishes dramatically by the first birthday.  Studies show that exposure to a second language during a key period of development (between six and ten months or so) can help infants “lock in” this natural ability, which may make it much easier for them to learn English (or any other language) as they get older.

The program I’ve developed utilizes the very same techniques used in the studies to expose infants to the sounds of English through face-to-face interaction and the liberal use of  ”motherese”–the high-pitched voice used my mothers in every culture to communicate with their babies.

Fortunately, I am quite fluent in motherese.  And I am utterly convinced that early exposure to foreign languages (thanks to the international students who lived in our home when our children were babies) is what helped my four daughters learn languages later (at 15 or so) so easily.  They still view learning languages as a fun and easy task even though they are now in their twenties and officially well beyond the “golden age” for language learning which ends at around the 7th birthday.

We Americans often marvel at how Europeans can speak so many languages, but think about this:  most of them heard other languages from birth!  This exciting new research is helping scientists and educators alike view infancy as a period of profound potential–and one that should not be squandered.

Who knew playing with babies in a second language could be so incredibly beneficial to their little brains?  Now, plenty of people know, and I’m thrilled to be given the opportunity to offer Lucky Baby English FREE to the infants in my community in Beijing.

It’s been a full month since we arrived in Beijing, and here we are, settled in our new apartment across the street from our new (opening in September) school and embarking on a whole new life once again.  It’s been an eye-opening experience and one that has filled me with a great deal of appreciation.

Here are a few things that have struck me so far:

1) This is the land of opportunity. What I have noticed is the willingness to accept and embrace new ideas.  I happen to work for a company that is in growth mode (like most of China) and open to suggestions, but in general, it feels like this is a place that welcomes innovation.  I had an idea for a project, and boom–marketing team is on it, and it’s scheduled to launch in October with full support from the company. There was no reluctance or endless process of evaluating the idea–instead, it was embraced with great enthusiasm and trust.  I have never been treated with more respect, listened to more intently or encouraged more wholeheartedly.

2) Things happen very quickly here. Related to number one above.  Example:   one thing that has concerned me about teaching abroad–30 years ago and more so now–is that the beloved English books we all read to our children aren’t always the best teaching tools here for preschoolers–they are too wordy for beginning language learners and many of the scenes/activities depicted are culturally irrelevant to Chinese children.  Like many teachers, I end up making up my own stories half the time because what’s written on the page just doesn’t work in that setting.  So, I spent maybe an hour researching publishing in China online, pitched a top agency (the biggest one in China) and within a couple of days, I had a meeting with an agent/rights manager here in Beijing.  At that meeting, she said she knew of an editor at a large publishing company that would be interested in my ideas, so she called her right then and she showed up in minutes.  The editor loved my ideas and asked if I could put together 12 books rather than the three I suggested, then whipped out her smartphone and showed me a site with an interactive English lesson and asked if I could provide digital content as well.  Oh, and she tossed out this December as a likely publication date.  WOW!

3) People are kind. Of course, I know that there are kind people everywhere, but I guess I was not expecting that, in a city of 22 million people, I would witness so many little random acts of kindness.  I had always known/heard that Chinese people could be a little pushy/demanding–and I am sure that is true in many cases.  But I see a lot of tenderness.  It’s a delightful surprise.

4) It’s clean and green in unexpected ways. I knew the air would be crappy (it is about half the time) but I didn’t expect the parks to be so immaculate and beautifully maintained.  The landscaping along the streets is surprisingly beautiful–and downright artistic.  It’s not just rows of the same shrubs over and over again but mixed beds of very diverse plantings for all-season interest.  Our courtyard area is especially lovely.   This pleases me to no end as I was thinking that Beijing would be a sea of gray.  Green, green, green!  (In summer, at least.)

Oh, there are a lot of things I could write about, but I’ll stop here.  New opportunities, quick momentum, kindness and greenery.  Not a bad way to start.

I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth–I’ve just been exploring it.

Tom and I left Japan in March (good timing) and spent several months traveling throughout Southeast Asia.  We are now very happy to be settling into a brand new life in Beijing, where we are working for an education company that focuses on very young learners.  We’re excited to be returning to our first love (we met as teachers in Japan in the eighties) and feel very fortunate to have an opportunity to create something really cool while living in such a fascinating country!

I haven’t been blogging here (obviously) as I’m not sure if what I’m doing now is something people want to read about. Well, that and I’m concentrating on being wherever I am rather than trying to document my experiences.  It’s just more fun to be out and about than to sit at home and type–at least, for now.

But that could change.  If you’ve been following me for a while (say, from Mexico to Argentina to Uruguay to Japan to China), you know that I embrace change!  So, we’ll see what happens.

Thanks for your interest in what I’m up to.  I’m always happy to hear from readers of my book and anyone who wants to connect!  Go ahead and send me an email at maya(at)mayafrost.com

And I was thinking that there would be a palpable sense of being down at the heels, but in Tokyo, the girls were dressed as stylishly as ever, things were super clean and bustling, the stores were busy and decorated for Christmas, and it all felt terribly prosperous. I realize this is a surface impression and that a nation’s economy can be in extremely dire straits while citizens go on about their business (hello, USA), but overall, it seemed more positive than I was envisioning it.

There have been other surprises. I knew about the politeness and efficiency, of course, but it still made me grin to have a taxi driver praise our Japanese to the high heavens and apologize for a slightly sudden stop that required him to back up a few inches so as to not enter the crosswalk area. I knew about the impeccable service, but it sill amazed me that every single store clerk, restaurant waitperson and even random uniformed workers were so immaculately attired and meticulous in everything they did, from (artfully) wrapping my paper shopping page with plastic on a rainy day to presenting my morning breakfast set (natto, raw egg, rice, nori, tea, miso shiro) with everything just so on the tray. Sure, I expected the Shinkansen to be as impressive as ever, but I couldn’t get over the beauty of the countryside as we sped along the tracks—the glorious colors of the late fall leaves, the leaning towers of bamboo, a snow-capped Mt. Fuji looming in the distance.

Granted, we’re not coming here with a fresh-from-the-States perspective. We’re coming from a year on a farm in rural Uruguay and five years in Latin America. And that’s why the culture shock really hits us.

On Thursday morning, we took a walk around our new neighborhood, a mostly residential area with modern Japanese-style homes, lovingly-tended gardens (the old ladies were out in force this morning, fussing over their flower pots despite the low temperature), narrow winding streets, and an imposing temple just around the corner. There’s a rice paddy behind the 7-11 (the store closest to us), a couple of coffee shops (old style) and a dazzling grocery store that dumbfounded us as we strolled the aisles and admired the beautiful displays of produce—and the unexpectedly low prices, as in cheaper than Uruguay (with its IVA tax) or Argentina (with its inflation).

Our first night, we took a hot Japanese-style bath, ate our sashimi, split a beer and were conked out by 9 pm. Unfortunately, we woke up at 1:30 am. It’s taking us a while to get adjusted, and despite popping vitamin C hourly, going from relative isolation in a summertime drought to 28 hours of plane travel and a cold winter drizzle is taking its toll.

We are marveling at the eye-popping availability of everything imaginable. We shake our heads and grin as we attempt to absorb the sheer vastness of the consumer choices. We did some grocery shopping at that gorgeous store (broccoli, tofu, bok choy, niida, spinach) and on Thursday morning spent two hours combing every aisle of the Kahwa, a Home Depot type of store a short distance away. At one point, I walked down a garden center aisle giggling as I eyed the dozens of sizes and types of stakes—bamboo, fake bamboo, green plastic, black plastic—in every conceivable size and shape. Back in Uruguay, there were absolutely NO stakes available to buy to stake our tomatoes—we were told that everyone (the very few who dare to grow tomatoes, anyway) uses whatever they have on hand. Tom sawed a long piece of rebar left over from the construction into several sections and used that, but several more rebar-less plants are doomed to droop. In the spring, I had to special order a tray for starting seed—at the only feed store in town—and at Kahma, there was a section with dozens of shapes and sizes of starting trays and a plethora of potting mixes and plant tags, not to mention an entire row of shears, scythes, and other high-quality and well-designed garden tools.

Granted, any Home Depot in the States—or a similar store in other countries—would have similar offerings, but because we’ve been in rural Uruguay, visiting one of these stores has made us realize how much more innovative we’ve had to become to handle even the most basic tasks. Here, it’s just so darn easy, especially if you have a car and money to spend.

In our part of Uruguay, it’s been a struggle to buy sheets, kitchen items, furniture, clothes, you name it—and so, in general, we just didn’t. And you know what? We got used to it. It seemed comfortable despite the spareness of the furnishings, the blank walls and the less-than luxurious accouterments. And of course, we saved a lot of money because there were just so few things to buy, and we got out of the habit of thinking we should solve our problems by going to the store to buy a solution. Now, that year of simplicity is beginning to look more like deprivation—and we’re trying to hang on to the joy we felt watching the sunrise and listening to the birds, the peacefulness of gazing at the rolling hills and the delight of waving at passing gauchos on horseback or the drivers of 70-year-old trucks on the road. We had so many happy times there despite our lack of access to material goods. No—we had happy times because we were so far removed from material goods and the striving that tends to go along with a consumer lifestyle.

It’s clear that being back in a consumer society (and specifically this one) means we will face an interesting challenge. I think that spending a year living so simply will help us abstain from purchasing things here, but it may take more resistance than we expect. I hope we can keep our apartment as spare as it is now, but I know how things tend to creep into a household when everything is right there, reasonably priced and tempting.

I wouldn’t say we’re giddy—we’re a little too sleep-deprived for that—but we’re definitely filled with excitement. More than that, we’re recognizing that we’re here for a reason and it’s up to us to remain open so that we can do our very best to fulfill our roles.

I hope we can give everyone even more than what they hope to receive from us. In the meantime, we’re filled with gratitude that we’ve been given this opportunity to be here.

It’s great to be back.

I received hundreds of love letters from my husband during our long-distance romance in the eighties (pre-email).  But my favorite love letter these days is the virtual email hug I get from sixteen year olds who read my book, The New Global Student, and write to thank me for their adventure abroad.

I’m so lucky to get these wonderful messages every week.  I wanted to share the one I got this morning from Savannah.

Hello!
I’m 16 years old and about a year an a half ago, my mother heard a show on NPR about your book, The New Global Student.  She told me about the show and that I might be interested in it and I listened to it online. The part about going on an exchange in high school fascinated and inspired me, so much so that I am writing this email from my host family’s house in [EUROPEAN COUNTRY] !!!
I left [MY STATE IN THE U.S.] for my year-long exchange in [EUROPE] a month ago and I still can’t believe that I am actually here.  I am with Rotary International, and it is one of the best decisions I have ever made.  I just wanted to thank you for (1) Doing an interview with NPR, and (2) writing that wonderful book!  I’ve probably read it about 3 times since I bought in in May 2009 and each time it helped me realize how I want to live my life a little bit more.  After my exchange year I’m thinking about doing a year at a community college in my area instead of doing my senior year, but who knows for sure?!!  This time two years ago if you had told me that I would be spending a year in Europe at 16 I would have told you that you were crazy!

My exchange is wonderful, I am already learning so much [FOREIGN LANGUAGE] and I am beginning to make good friends, both exchange students and [FOREIGN RESIDENTS]!  And the hard times that I have had have just made me grow.  I feel different already and I’ve only been here for one month.

Thank you so much for inspiring me and so many other kids!
I hope you are doing well and having fun with whatever you are up to!!

Savannah

Isn’t it sweet?  Thank you, Savannah, and my heartfelt thanks to the many other students who write to me every week to tell me about how the book has inspired them to try something new, experience a new culture, and learn more about themselves and the world.

I love you, too.

Doug Lansky is the guru for solo travel. He contributed a nice piece in my book about how he set out on a six-month trip and ended up being on the road for ten years–during which he was paid to write a syndicated column with millions of readers and served as the host for a travel show on television. He also wrote several books, including his hilarious anthology of crazy signs and a guide for those traveling around the world on their own.

These days, he has a sweet life in Sweden with his wife and three little girls, and spends time each year in the U.S. offering his hilarious “Get Lost” lecture on college campuses.

Learn more at http://www.DougLansky.com

Recent research supports what exchange students and expats have known for years: living abroad stimulates creativity.

This video summarizes the study, but here are the high points:

1) spending time abroad stimulates creative problem-solving skills

2) it does not appear to be simply a matter of creative people being more likely to live abroad

3) short-term travel doesn’t count–it’s really about spending significant periods of time immersed in another culture

4) “significant” may vary–for those who are truly immersed, there may be more benefits than for those who remain in a cultural bubble for a longer period

5) it’s possible to have a cultural immersion experience in your home country if you happen to have a community in which you can connect deeply

6) the earlier you go abroad, the more you are likely to be affected by and benefit from the experience

As I put it in The New Global Student: Go early, go solo, go long, go deep. In my next book, I’m looking at how moving abroad stimulates creativity and writing about what happens when new expats rediscover their talents and possibilities abroad.

You can bet that employers are paying attention to this study and that they’ll be looking for employees who have spent time abroad–and looking for ways to ensure that their current employees have more opportunities to spend time abroad as well.