I learnt a foreign language from an app, then put myself to the test

When Guatemalan-born entrepreneur Luis von Ahn created Duolingo back in 2009, I wonder whether he could ever have imagined that, 15 years later, it would be a $US748 million ($1.163 billion) business.

It’s now used by 103 million people around the world, one of a raft of similar app-based tools – amongst them Babbel, Memrise and Clozemaster – which mix artificial intelligence and “gameification” to help users learn a new language.

It’s this gamification element, in particular, which has helped make the apps popular – an approach inspired by the world of video gaming which aims to keep users engaged, stoking competition and rewarding them for completing “levels” of study. In the case of Duolingo, this includes being able to compete against friends and family, and earning rewards for hitting “streaks” (using the app daily throughout the week). It is, as I discovered, surprisingly addictive.

Language app Duolingo has ballooned into a $US748 million business.Credit: Getty Images

At school, I had opted to study French and German – but, as I got older, I often found myself wishing I had learnt Spanish, with its sensuous rolling consonants and global reach (around 600 million people on Earth speak Spanish, compared to just 321 million French speakers, and 130 million German).

So, earlier this year, I decided to take action. I downloaded Duolingo, and started learning from the absolute beginning (its go-to first phrase is, for some reason, “me como la manzana”, meaning “I eat the apple”). I felt myself improving quickly but, the more I used the app, the more I wondered how much of a replacement these tools were for real-world immersion and local interaction.

Was AI-learning alone enough for me to get by in a place where little or no English was spoken? Would it give me the confidence I needed to at least have a try? There was only one way to find out: I booked a trip to Guatemala – somewhere, I reasoned, that Mr von Ahn would approve of.

I learned Spanish from scratch, ahead of my trip to Guatemala.Credit: Getty Images

My partner Tim and I crossed the border from Belize – the only English-speaking country in Latin America – just as I hit my 130-day streak on Duolingo (Tim was on a lowly 50). Feeling particularly smug, and driven by the rush of adrenaline-fuelled self-belief which accompanied the batch of “gems” with which the app rewarded my efforts, I decided we should throw ourselves in the deep end and head straight for a rural community called Carmelita.

Located in northern Guatemala, the tiny village is the jumping off point for a hardcore trek that cuts right through the heart of the Mayan jungle to a 3000-year-old Mayan city called El Mirador. None of its residents, we were assured, spoke English.

It was a long and bumpy drive to the village in a rattly 4x4 with no suspension, and my attempt at conversation with the driver fell flat. “¿Cómo estás?” I offered – but was immediately lost by his fast-paced and lengthy reply. I nodded and smiled, but we spent the rest of the journey in silence. Off to a good start.

A traditional Guatemalan breakfast.Credit: iStock

Before exploring the area surrounding Carmelita, we stopped for a typical local breakfast of scrambled eggs, refried beans, plantain and freshly cooked tortillas (sadly, no manzanas). I was determined to compliment the plate of food I’d just enjoyed.

“¡Esto es muy bueno!” I said with a big thumbs up, which was greeted with smiles from the two women who had cooked it. One asked me where I was from and to my surprise, I understood what she was saying. A simple but flowing exchange of words ensued. Progress!

Later that day, I was able to meet some of the members of the Carmelita community, including Santiago, who worked as a guide in the area. A keen birder, he pointed out the rich wildlife as we spoke in broken Spanish and got to know one another. I learned he had a family and had been trekking in the area (known as the Maya Biosphere Reserve) since he was a boy.

I could feel my confidence growing – that critical ingredient to learning a new language, and one I had been lacking. The fear of getting something wrong had often plagued my progress with languages as a child, and I still carried that with me. I’d often stumble over my words, doubting everything I knew, and inevitably would fall silent in the simplest of exchanges.

The Maya Biosphere Reserve is home to the ancient ruins of Tikal.Credit: Getty Images

A few days later, we travelled to the beautiful lakeside town of Flores before catching a flight over to central Guatemala, famous for its volcanoes and historic colonial towns like Antigua.

Walking around Flores’ pretty cobbled streets, I noticed I was picking up bits of language around me. Signs, bus announcements, the odd word spoken between people on the street. Like a jigsaw puzzle coming together, it was opening up parts of the country that would otherwise have passed me by. I felt less like a stranger despite having never been there before.

I was, however, also starting to discover the shortcomings of digital language learning. The app progresses you in stages and, as I’d not yet reached the past or future tense levels, I was still expressing everything in the present. This, of course, presented a problem – there are only so many times you can tell someone: “I go here. I eat apple. I very fluent now.”

Antigua is surrounded by volcanoes.Credit: iStock

So, Tim and I decided to enrol in classes at Ixchel Spanish school in Antigua. We opted for four hours of face-to-face teaching every day for a week, and were also given individual tutoring – intense, to say the least.

My teacher, Irma de Guerra, wasted no time. Almost immediately, new phrases were flying – “Dónde está … yo no sé … pido el menu…“. By the end of my first session, we were even covering vocabulary for bits of cutlery.

As soon as the clock struck 5pm, Tim and I would bolt out the door and straight into a nearby bar, where we rewarded a hard day’s learning with frosty cervezas (preferable to digital gemstones at any rate).

By the end of the week, I was able to have conversations of surprising depth with Irma. We touched on music preference, men, and the best dishes in town (restaurant Rinconcito Antigueno’s sublime wood-fired chicken and potatoes). We were even able to delve into the rather sombre topic of the rapid passing of time.

To the amusement of my teacher, I relied a great deal on my miming abilities to get my point across – but nevertheless, it was a far more profound interaction than I’d have been capable of a week earlier.

Rinconcito Antigueno’s wood-fired chicken.Credit: Rinconcito Antigueno

And this, I think, is the point. Language learning apps are a great way to establish the basics – but when it comes to learning a new tongue, there is no substitute for the trial and error of lively conversation. After my time with Irma, I was able to put my new skills to good use while exploring Central America more widely; thanks to her individual encouragement and gentle correction during our talks, I was no longer embarrassed about getting something wrong, and found that locals far preferred me to have a go than not try at all.

As I travelled, I continued to converse as much as possible, and with each conversation, my abilities grew, and so did my understanding of each place I visited. Better yet, I didn’t have to worry about losing my perfect streak.

UK Telegraph