Lost in translation… or just hard of hearing? Why foreign language learners and people with hearing loss have more in common than you think
- Elisa Nuevo Vallín
- 6 hours ago
- 3 min read
By a Spanish CODA living in the UK, still confused since 2016.
Let’s get one thing straight: when you move to another country and English isn’t even your second language (hello, Spanish and Spanish Sign Language 👋), life is... let’s say interesting. Suddenly, you find yourself nodding through conversations, laughing three seconds too late, and praying nobody asks you a question mid-lip sip of your coffee.
Now, as a CODA (Child of Deaf Adults), I’ve spent a lifetime navigating the beautiful chaos of communication — through hands, faces, and sometimes wild guessing. So imagine my delight when I realised that people learning a foreign language and people with hearing loss actually share a lot in common.
We are a tribe. A confused, lip-reading, context-clinging tribe.
1. We ALL need peace and quiet
Forget trendy open-plan cafés. Give us one table, two chairs, and zero background noise. That’s the dream.
People with hearing loss need to focus hard on lipreading and facial cues. Foreign language learners (especially those of us still stuck at “Pardon, can you repeat that but... slower, please?”) need to concentrate on every syllable, every eyebrow twitch, every breath.
Now add a coffee machine grinding beans, Coldplay softly murdering your attention span in the background, and a waiter mumbling the specials?
We’re all doomed. Just write it on a napkin, gracias.
2. The phone is our mortal enemy
Phone calls are a universal nightmare. For the hard of hearing, they’re frustrating and inaccessible. For us foreigners? It’s like being dumped into a live radio interview in a dialect you weren’t warned about.
No lips to read. No body language. Just audio. Raw, cruel, accent-heavy audio.
You answer a phone call and immediately regret every life choice that led to this moment. The person on the other end says something that might be “Would you like to confirm your appointment?” or possibly “Did you leave your alpaca on the bus?” You may never know.
3. Subtitles = Survival
If the subtitles are off, so are we. Deaf people rely on captions for access. Non-native speakers? We rely on them for understanding and emotional stability.
We will rewatch an entire show just because we didn’t quite get that plot twist the first time.
Without subtitles, we miss the nuance. And if you’ve ever watched The Great British Bake Off and heard “soggy bottom” without context… you know how important nuance is.
4. We all love a good light source
For Deaf folks, good lighting helps with lipreading and facial expression. For us foreigners? Same.
Because when you don’t understand the words, you look for meaning in the eyes, the hands, the enthusiastic eyebrow movements. Ever tried understanding an English person whispering in a pub with the lights down low? You might as well be at a séance.
5. We’re exhausted. Like, spiritually.
Whether you’re lipreading for hours or translating everything in your head before you speak, it’s draining.
We nod a lot. We smile politely. We sometimes accidentally agree to things like goat yoga or a second date. We go home and lie down in a dark room and whisper to ourselves: “Just smile and say yes. It’s easier.”
6. Sometimes, we just pretend
You haven’t lived until you’ve confidently said “Yes!” to something you didn’t understand — and then regretted it 3 seconds later.
Deaf people and foreign language learners have both mastered the ancient art of The Strategic Nod™. A small tilt of the head, a smile, maybe a laugh… you’re in the clear.
Until someone says, “So you’re okay to present the project tomorrow, yes?”
Help.
Confused but United
Whether you're hard of hearing, Deaf, learning a new language, or just permanently confused by British idioms (please explain “chuffed to bits”), we’re in this together.
Let’s advocate for clearer communication, better lighting, subtitles everywhere, and cafés that understand our desperate need for silence.
And if you ever see me smiling and nodding during a conversation, just know: I may not know what’s happening. But I’m giving it my absolute best.
Like this post? Confused but laughing? Share it with your international friends, Deaf mates, or that one coworker who also smiles through the pain.
Drop a comment if you’ve ever nodded your way into a bizarre situation.