As you all know by now, I grew up in South Africa in a predominately Afrikaans household, but English was never far away. I went to school when I was five and by the time I was six, I already had English lessons in school. Also, I heard my parents speak English to others, others speaking English to them and of course, as a child, you pick things up. In my adult years I moved to Cape Town, where you hear more English than Afrikaans and by then I could speak two languages in one conversation without even noticing that I switched.
But, it was even ‘worse’ in our family. There was always a Dutch part too. My mother and her siblings emigrated to South Africa back in 1953 and Dutch was still spoken by my gran and her kids. Some of my cousins – those with two Dutch parents – spoke Dutch too – but I never learned to speak it as a child. I could understand most of it though. So many times my mom suggested that we speak English for two days, then Dutch for two days and then back to Afrikaans, alternating between the languages. Of course Afrikaans and English went okay, but the moment we started speaking Dutch my brother and I would get the giggles and then it was over, until my mom tried it again months later. It never worked. We even started making fun of English, and our go-to phrase was to translate literally from Afrikaans: we speak our tales so deliciously.
Note: Here ‘tales’ didn’t mean stories, but languages, and we deliberately used the wrong word because the Afrikaans word for languages is: ‘tale’.
Then I came to the Netherlands and I had to learn Dutch. It was only then that I realized how difficult this language is, especially if you speak Afrikaans, which is a very simplified Dutch. You have the same words in both languages, meaning something totally different. In Dutch, like in English, you have several (complicated) conjugations of the verb with the different tenses. You just don’t have this in Afrikaans. So, you get it. Learning Dutch wasn’t easy, but I did it. I speak Dutch as fluently as any Dutch person does, and even though I still make mistakes, no one seems to notice as there are so many dialects in this country. Master T and my best friend notice, but neither of them correct me anymore. My best friend even says that she wished my accent is not gradually disappearing.
What about others?
Hearing other people talk, whether with an accent or not, does very little for me. I notice and for the rest I concentrate on what they say, whether they use the language correctly or not. Dutch and Afrikaans definitely are not a sexy languages, and there isn’t any other foreign language that I find sexy, simply because I cannot understand the words.
English, however… now that is sexy! Not my own, but that of the ‘real’ English. I love listening to them, the way they form their words, the different accents there is, whether ‘true’ English or Scottish or Irish or Welsh. There is just something about the language that is so sexy, whether I listen to people around me talk, like when we are in London, or whether I am watching a BBC production on Netflix. I just love it. And yes, I love the British English a lot more than the American or South African version. There is something very cute about the Australian English, but it’s still not as sexy as the British.
No matter what language someone speaks, a voice can be a total turn-off. Or a turn-on. I recently wrote a story where a beautiful woman had a terrible voice. I have encountered people like this in my surroundings too, beautiful people with terrible voices, but also relatively ‘unattractive’ people who had the most beautiful and melodious voices you can imagine. Voice is not a specific turn-on for me, but I do like when the voice match the image I see in front of me.
This reminds me of the beginning of my relationship with Master T. At first our talking was only in email, then on ICQ and later on Messenger. Then the moment came when he phoned me for the first time, during his lunch hour. I can still clearly remember the moment I first heard his voice: I was so wet after our phone call. Part of it might have been because of the excitement of first talking to him, hearing his voice, but I clearly remember telling my mom afterwards: his voice is so beautiful.
Languages, accents and voices are not something I view as particularly kinky, but some of them definitely help to get the juices flowing when the total picture is something I like.
© Rebel’s Notes