Being bilingual is a superpower; being a polyglot is becoming a superhuman of an entirely different level.

Especially in a predominantly English-speaking country where your native language cannot be heard for miles.

My secret weapon was Slovak. After all, only five million people speak this Slavic language. The odds of randomly bumping into one of us in a small town in Northern Ireland felt roughly the same as winning the lottery.

Invincible

Now imagine my husband-to-be and me strolling through the streets of Enniskillen, gossiping freely, laughing at inappropriate jokes, speaking complete nonsense in Slovak while everyone around us carried on with their day, blissfully unaware.

I felt invincible. Linguistic superhuman.

Until someone spoke to me. In English with a very thick accent.

Then I shrank internally to the size of a pea. The Northern Irish accent took time to decode. That sing-song musical rhythm? At first, I wasn’t sure whether people were asking me a question or emotionally narrating the weather forecast. And the weather was always the main topic.

Eventually, I caught the rhythm — and felt unreasonably proud of myself for surviving it. Just about.

Ordinary Saturday

One afternoon, while skimming through a newspaper in the supermarket, I spotted a headline:

“Who Is the Next Millionaire?”

Someone had won a massive jackpot. The winner hadn’t come forward. And — would you believe it — the ticket had been bought in this very town.

Imagine. I could be shopping alongside a millionaire right now.

HA.

Confident in our linguistic invisibility, we immediately began discussing the matter in Slovak.

I was already dreaming aloud about what I would do with the money if we won, to which he corrected me that if somebody had won, it would have been him. He is the one who buys the tickets, after all. He also reminded me very clearly of the day I declared that only losers buy lottery tickets — indirectly branding him a statistical embarrassment.

However, that was absolutely not the case. I had to argue, because I said — and keep saying — that the probability of winning a jackpot is lower than being hit by an asteroid. For the record, I stand by my statement.

Therefore, in my humble and extremely rational opinion, it is far better to work smart and earn millions than to rely on blind luck. I also had to ask him point-blank whether he was planning not to share the winnings with me. Because I would, of course, share the millions I will earn one day with him.

As we unpacked our modest shopping — modest because he was working as a labourer and I was an au pair — I reflected that at that precise stage in life, an asteroid collision felt more plausible than accumulating wealth.

Then he froze.

“I bought a ticket last week! I forgot!”

“You did what? Before payday? Are you out of your mind?!”

“What if it was me they’re looking for?”

Unexpected Fluency

Before I could launch into a financial lecture, another voice interrupted:

“Well, what are you waiting for? Check it. I’ll get you the numbers.”

The voice was neither his nor mine.

It was Slovak.

With a distinctly western Slovak accent.

We turned slowly.

What the heck?!

We looked at each other first, and then at the cashier.

She smiled the smile that says, You are absolutely busted. Her name tag read: Katka.

And just like that, my secret bilingual superpower evaporated into thin air.

Close Enough

“I won!” he shouted.

“You did?!” My voice echoed across the supermarket.

Forget the millions. Forget early retirement. My only real concern was this: Was my asteroid theory about to collapse?

He stared at the ticket like it was a sacred artefact.

“Yes,” he repeated, glowing with childish triumph. “I won.”

I leaned over dramatically to inspect the treasure.

“£5,” I announced. “You won £5.”

I rolled my eyes and continued packing.

To be fair, it wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world to be wrong.

As I paid for our groceries, I realised two things.

First, you never truly know who understands your “secret” language. Even when the probability feels microscopic.

Second, I had indeed almost become a millionaire.

Just like everyone else in that town who bought a ticket and won £5.

Loved this story? That’s just the beginning. Northern Ireland: Among the Rolling Tractors is packed with more chaos, cultural confusion, awkward wins, and the kind of real-life lessons you don’t get in textbooks. Dive into the full story and see how moving abroad with “big dreams and tiny vocabulary” can change everything. Read the complete adventure now and keep building your own Abroadien life. 🌍✨