Bagsy


On verbs of motion

Verb conjugations, adjective endings, and different alphabets frighten foreign language learners, particularly English native speakers. Indifference plagues other students. Mastering Japanese sounds fun in theory, but why bother memorizing thousands of kanji when English is the global tongue?

The motivated student, however, soon cowers from greater linguistic monsters. Verbs of motion are one of them.

Before diving in, I should clarify that I do not belittle the English language or anyone learning it. English has its own quirks. But for better or for worse, it is a relatively simple, dare I say “lazy” language, that feeds ambiguity.

In English I can use the same verb in all of these cases and, despite ambiguity, it “works”:

I am going to work (by foot).

I am going to work (by vehicle).

Straightforward enough, right? Not quite. How do you travel to work? Maybe you walk a couple blocks from your apartment to the office. Or maybe you bemoan Bay Area traffic during your ninety minute commute, nestled in your Prius.

Sure, one might clarify this sentence by saying, “I am driving to work.” But English speakers commonly swap clarity for simplicity. Seamlessly plugging in variations of the same verb “to go” fails in other languages.

German intimidates monolingual English speakers but less so than the languages classified as notoriously difficult by the American government. Yet German demands precision that flies in the face of everyday English dialogue:

Ich gehe zur Arbeit (by foot).

Ich fahre zur Arbeit (by vehicle).

No longer can our catch-all verb save the day. This is a feature rather than a bug, as this dichotomy spares the listener from wondering if wheels were involved. We don’t know if the second sentence’s subject traveled by train, bus, bicycle, spaceship, or a combination of those. Yet in many cases we at least get a sense of distance. In reality German offers nuance through other verbs of motion like “laufen” or “fliegen.”

Native English speakers often use “gehen” like their favorite universal verb “to go”. Puzzled, Germans ask if you really walked from New York to Los Angeles.

You might scoff at this, feeling that I mock your cognitive ability to distinguish between feet and wheels. If it were so easy, why is this mistake so common? Is German just a silly language?

If German is level 2 in the verbs of motion game, then Russian is level 10. Review these sentences:

I go to school (routinely by foot).

I go to school (routinely by vehicle).

I am going to school (by foot).

I am going to school (by vehicle).

The first two sentences could feel different from the latter, in that the former imply attending school habitually. But saying “I am going to school” in the same way is not uncommon, as you might describe actively pursuing a higher degree. Of course, you also use the second pair in English to describe a commute. No matter how you slice it, “to go” is our go-to.

What if you had to use a different verb in each example? That is the case in Russian:

Я хожу в школу.

Я езжу в школу.

Я иду в школу.

Я еду в школу.

I dare you to flip through this mental gymnastics every time you move somewhere, distinguishing between not only feet and wheels but also unidirectional and multidirectional travel. What is the purpose of such a beautifully frustrating system?

Well, it might help convey your eccentric commute to school

Generally, it’s nice to express nuanced meanings with fewer words. This feature is not restricted to verbs of motion. Simply changing one’s tone while speaking Mandarin transforms meaning. I rely on German and Russian examples because I speak those languages and sadly cannot offer equal insight on others. In the future I will peel other layers of linguistic precision. I doubt I offer more than a “German for Beginners” or “Russian 101” page does, but it helps me to write this because my Russian is not great. Plus, I think it’s pretty cool.