The day Duolingo expects me to have

6 min readDec 12, 2018

I arrive in Italy and head straight to a farm. After two weeks of Italian lessons on Duolingo, that is one of the few places where I am able to speak with any real authority.

On this farm, I hope there is a horse and a cow. Ideally, they will both be drinking milk or looking at birds. Otherwise, I’m not sure what I’d say about them. Perhaps I can pray for the presence of ducks or a girl with a mouse. Worst case scenario, I can comment on bugs, which I am led to believe will be everywhere: on the animals, by the water, in a pair boots. Duolingo believes not only that I will see these things while I’m in Italy, but when I do, I will be compelled to remark upon them like some demented narrator.

Where is the turkey? the app makes me shout into my iPhone while riding a cross town bus. Right here, I mutter. The turkey is here, reporting for duty.

After the farm, Duolingo takes me to lunch. This sounds promising, but turns out poorly, like most online dates do. The app teaches me nothing about placing an order or even recognizing when I am being asked to do so. Instead, it wants me to look around, see what’s going on, perhaps hand a single plate to the waiter. My need to eat is secondary to being able to observe who else is in the restaurant and what they’re up to.

The waiter is wearing a red shirt.

The men talk to the cook.

The cook has a knife.

The men are leaving the restaurant.

I get the feeling that Duolingo believes every cafe is a crime scene waiting to happen. They are preparing me to be the only witness.

Other common topics of conversation available to me courtesy of Duolingo: horse ownership; things on sharks; lemon candy. When that gets boring, the app has presented me with a deep well of “I statements,” such as: I do not eat candy at the zoo; I don’t know the bear; I eat a lot of fish. According to Duolingo, it is customary to do each of these while wearing red socks, a point that should be noted whenever possible.

Another thing, while I’m at it: Sugar. My lessons indicate that this word should come up at least once a day, if not more. If it doesn’t, I am encouraged to work it into every conversation myself. It’s easy enough to do, once you understand the full range of possibilities. One can put sugar in coffee, tea or lemonade, sure. But it can also be used as a playground for ants. It can be fed to a turkey and poured on a table. For some reason, Duolingo keeps insisting that a group of men can write in it. I try to imagine that: A bunch of dudes etching messages in all-natural sweetener. Save me, I see them scrawl in the powder of my mind. Send better words.

I pass these lessons, one after the other, but Duolingo serves them up again and again. To keep myself engaged, I start piecing together random phrases. Suddenly there is a bee in a bathing suit or a shark riding a moped. Here comes that horse again. He is wearing boots and talking to an onion. It seems absurd, but is it really? Is a shark on a motorcycle any more ridiculous than, say, men writing in sugar? Is it weirder than a grown woman traveling to Rome in search of a zoo?

Perhaps the most annoying part about Duolingo is that it’s working. It’s only been a week or two, but still I can conjure up the word for bean and strawberry as I walk through the supermarket. Sitting at a coffee shop, I can skip from table to table, conjugating the verb “to drink.” Impressive? Maybe. Useful? Not exactly. Much as I love to rattle off all the beverages to which I can add sugar and the animals that can be forced to drink them, I cannot yet order one myself. I cannot ask to pay in cash or request the WiFi password while I wait. I wonder why Duolingo is going on and on about that milk-drinking horse while I sit here at a café, thirsty, handing the waiter a lemon.

The real complaint that I have with Duolingo doesn’t have anything to do with functionality, but practicality. The app may teach people a thing or two, but if the things are useless then what’s the point? Why teach me how to say I am handing the banane to the boy when I am far more likely to give a suitcase to the flight attendant? I’m never going to buy green pants but I will definitely, at some point, need to purchase a Metro ticket. Tell me something: Who is this person who is more concerned about getting to and from the zoo, as opposed to the airport? Why isn’t Duolingo teaching things that people will actually say?

Don’t tell me “This is how you learn.” I studied enough languages over the years to know how it’s done. I understand that you have to start somewhere humble. Even still, I think we can all agree that a farm is not the ideal place. We don’t have to learn the verb “to go” within the context of animals on four legs. The bus can go to the cityjust as easily as The cow goes to the water. I can look at a painting just as well as a horse. The lesson plan can stop sending me on a trip to the zoo when it knows full well that I’m going to Italy to visit a museum. You want to be helpful, Duolingo? Teach me how to say, How late is the train running? and No, sir I don’t want to dance with you. Drill me on the phrase, You can’t wear shorts in the cathedral. Now we’re working on more than one level. Now we’re talking!