For the past few months, my three-year-old daughter has spent an hour every week learning a foreign language. She walks into a small room in a local school, where she and a handful of three and four-year-old spend the next hour dancing to “La Vaca Lola”, a song about a Spanish cow, creating finger puppets(木偶) to voice what they like and don't like (me gusta, no me gusta) and shouting out which animals are big (grande) or small (pequeno).
She tells us little about the classes. In fact, for the first few weeks, nothing at all. I begin to wonder if it was a huge mistake (each lesson works out at about £9) but then I show her “La Vaca Lola” on YouTube. She shouts vaca with enthusiasm and with what I hope is a Spanish accent.
The wish to enroll(使……加入) her in language lessons came, like most things, gradually and then in a sudden rush. In my day job, I read and edit stories about the Chinese economy. For a long time, I felt that it would be good for her to learn another language but I had no great plan as to when.
Then I read Edward Luce's The Retreat of Western Liberalism and all my thoughts and worry about the economy combined into a panic. Waking in a sweat, it seemed obvious that if my daughter was to have any kind of future, she would have to learn another language. Ideally (理想地) immediately.
I thought about Mandarin Chinese, one of the top 10 languages most important for our future, according to the British Council (others include Arabic, French, German, Portuguese, Italian, Russian, Dutch and Japanese). But there were no classes for young children nearby. There were, however, local Spanish classes—the number-one language on the list. When she started to sing "Incy Wincy Spider" in Spanish and English—helped by a Spanish nursery worker-our decision was made.
