Language Trainers Blog

Quentin Tarantino’s film Inglourious Basterds taught us all the important lesson that the wrong hand signal could well get you killed (if you were pretending to be a Nazi in the wrong place and time).  In the film, someone gets gunned down because he uses the wrong hand signal for the number three.

A lot of people use the middle three fingers to denote the number three, though some use other combinations.  In the town in Germany mentioned in Inglourious Basterds, people use the thumb and first two fingers.  In China, many people use the last three fingers (similar to the A-OK hand signal).  I found myself using the latter yesterday when buying three bananas.  It used to feel wholly unnatural to me, but it suddenly doesn’t feel so weird any more.  Strange.

Which signal do you use for three?

*Out of interest, you can also use ‘finger’ as a measure of alcohol.  If you hold your finger horizontally against the bottom of the glass and fill it to the depth of the top of your finger, that’s ‘one finger’.  So, three fingers would be a pretty strong drink!

I’ve just read an article about the often difficult practices of apologising in Japan.  The article itself is focussed mainly on corporate responsibility-taking, but it talks about some interesting facets of Japanese apologies, which are of many different degrees, including the depth of bow accompanying them.

The art of apology is an intrinsic part of Japanese culture. When you ask a shopkeeper for help, or when you bump into someone on the inevitably crowded trains, you say “sumimasen.” A direct translation of this phrase is “excuse me,” but a more a more accurate rendition is “I am so sorry to bother you.”

Apologizing is as common as saying please and thank you. It is a way of maintaining harmony in social situations. If you are the first to leave work in a Japanese office, you say “Osaki ni sitsuree simasu,” which means “I commit the great rudeness of leaving first.”

It also gives some extreme examples of historical corporate apologies:

Japan has a long history of corporate personal apology in Japan. In 1985, following the crash of Japan Airlines flight 123, the president of JAL Yasumoto Tagaki assumed full responsibility for the accident, the worst single-airplane incident in aviation history. Of the 524 passengers only four survived.  Takagi went to the extraordinary length of personally visiting the families of the victims. It was only after he had fulfilled this obligation and offered one last public apology that he resigned. Another JAL employee, a maintenance manager apologized in a more extreme manner: he committed suicide.

Some apologies don’t actually apologise, either.  Sometimes they include remorse and regret, and sometimes even compensation, without ever actually taking responsibility and giving apology.  Do you think these are valid apologies?

Some parts of culture are so deeply ingrained in countries that it becomes very difficult for outsiders to get a grip on them.  How is apologising different in your country?

Source: MSNBC.

In the same way that I’m fascinated by westerners getting terrible Asian character tattoos, I am deeply interested in the reasons that Chinese people pick their English names (or anyone who chooses a name in another language, actually).  Of course, not everybody has an English name, but it’s rare that you find a younger person who does not.

Unsurprisingly, young Chinese people take this as an opportunity to express their individuality.  In a country of well over a billion people, there are only a hundred or so popular last names, and similar first names are common.  This means that it’s not uncommon for people to meet, go to school with, or work with someone with exactly the same name (I even met another Wendy Wong recently!).  Choosing an a name that reflects some of their personality can be quite important to some, which leads to some interesting choices.  Adjectives and nouns are also quite common names in Chinese, but they can sound odd to English speakers.

Interestingly, English names can also go back in the other direction, as Chinese people call their friends by a ‘Chinesified’ version of their English name.  I had a colleague called Echo, but everyone called her Ai-ke when speaking in Chinese.

I recently found out that another colleague, Gills, intended to call himself Giggs (after footballer Ryan Giggs), but something went wrong along the way.  I’m not quite sure what.  Some other fantastic names I’ve come across in China and Hong Kong have been Paper, Mars, Forrest Gump, Chocolate, Ocean King, and Person.

For some further reading, check out In China My Name Is by Valerie Blanco and Ellen Feberwee.  It’s a book dedicated entirely to Chinese people and the stories behind their English names.

Oh, and happy Chinese New Year!

I was looking over some things at work today, and realised that the word 画 (huà) had been used as the translation for both draw and paint.  I brought it up with the author of the document, and she said that there was no difference in Chinese, and asked if there was a difference in English.  I told her it was quite a big difference (draw being associated with pens, pencils, crayons, etc., and paint being done with, well, paint).  She discussed this with another colleague for a while, and I looked up 画 in the dictionary.

It happens quite often in Chinese that one character means several different things, with the meaning usually worked out from the context or the other characters around it.  In this case, the meaning, to Chinese people, is the same.  It makes a lot of sense when you think about it, as traditional Chinese calligraphy was done with a brush, not a pen.

In the end, as I did want to distinguish the difference between the two English words, we compromised with 画 (油画), where the first character (yóu) is the noun paint, and 画 means…paint. And draw.

If you’re studying Chinese, are interested in the culture, or just want a new name in a new language, check out the Chinese Name Generator.  It takes your name and interests and generates a name based on the sounds of your name.

I put in my details and got 王文寜 (wáng wén níng), with wáng meaning ‘king’, wén to do with language and culture, and níng meaning ’serenity’.  Not bad, and kind of appropriate, especially for this blog!  If I hadn’t been given a Chinese name at birth, though, I think I would have called myself 问题 (wèn tí), which sounds kind of like my English name, and is also the noun ‘question’ (but also ‘problem’ and ‘trouble’!).

Of course, it’s always a good idea to check your proposed name with a native speaker.  As the site says:

This page is mostly created for entertainment. Real Chinese names should be chosen by someone who knows the nuances of Chinese language and culture. Ask a native speaker if you want a Chinese name you will actually use.

I’m pretty sure that Chinese people would find 问题 a ridiculous name, but I still enjoy the idea!  What’s your Chinese name?

Many people choose a name in their adopted language, in order to communicate more easily with people who are native speakers.  If you decide to choose a new alias, it will show people you are eager to involve yourself in their language and culture.  It also helps conversation move more smoothly, as saying names in foreign languages and accents interrupts the flow of native speech.

I’m sure we’ve all seen a few adopted names that have made us giggle to ourselves.  So how do you choose a name that won’t be old-fashioned, odd, meaningless, or inappropriate?

Choose something similar to your existing name. This is not necessary, and sometimes not possible, but it will help both you and others remember what it is.

Get a second opinion. Talk to a native speaker you trust (more than one, if possible), and who can explain the name to you (or give you some more options).

Ask if your name “sounds right” - that is, it’s not obsolete or weird.  I was listening to a female friend choosing a Chinese name, and a Chinese guy remarked that he would never marry a girl who was called one of the options.  A name may sound fine to you, but it may be for the opposite gender.  Typically, only native speakers know this kind of thing.

Check for other meanings or connotations. Make sure you’re aware of any other meanings, or words that sound similar.  When my father was choosing an English name, he rejected several names because they sounded like unpleasant nouns in English.  In the end he decided not to have an English name at all, which of course he had every right to do.

Go with something you like! Whether it be unconventional or unusual, if it means something special to you, go for it.

Have you had to choose a foreign name?  How did you choose it, and were you happy with your decision?

I’ve spent the last two years working and travelling in Asia, and speaking a mixture of the local language and English to varying levels of success.  I’m now on a long-overdue visit home, and it’s the first time I have been in an English-speaking country in a long time.  I was eased into it as I had a very long journey comprising four different flights and five different cities, and it wasn’t until the fourth city that the flight crew stopped speaking Chinese (Mandarin to Hong Kong, and then Cantonese after that).

It took me a little while to stop the automatic pleasantries popping into my head in Chinese, and for a few days I kept thinking of ways to try to communicate my needs in other languages.  While it’s a bit of a relief to be able to speak plainly and be understood by strangers, it’s also quite encouraging to realise that I do manage to function in my adopted country.

Does anyone else experience a slight delay in language adjustment?  Maybe it’s another result of jet lag.

I’m currently in a situation where I speak a dialect to a moderate level, but the main language to a lower level (Cantonese and Mandarin, respectively).  I understand more Mandarin than I would otherwise, because some words and structures are very similar.  But listening comprehension doesn’t always mean oral proficiency, and it can be difficult to reproduce the unfamiliar words, especially in tonal languages.  I know that the pronunciation is different, but I don’t often know how it’s different.  I haven’t come across too many false friends yet (where a foreign word is similar to a word in your native language, but it means a totally different thing), but I’m sure they will arise.

One way to bridge the gap is to try the word in your own language, and sometimes the native speaker will understand you.  My Cantonese-speaking friend has had mixed success with this method in Mandarin-speaking cities, but it seems to work for quite a few food items, which is the important thing!

Do you speak two languages that have similarities (e.g. Spanish and Italian)?  I’d love to hear any suggestions you have for successful communication in both.

This excerpt comes from an article that claims that bicultural people may interpret situations differently, depending on what language is being used at the time.  The methods may need to be polished, but I think it’s an interesting idea.

The article mentions bicultural people specifically, rather than people who are simply bilingual, but I wonder how much difference this makes.  Do people feel more expressive or creative when speaking Italian, compared to German?  I’d love to read people’s comments about this.

Bicultural people may unconsciously change their personality when they switch languages, according to a US study on bilingual Hispanic women.

It found that women who were actively involved in both English and Spanish speaking cultures interpreted the same events differently, depending on which language they were using at the time.

It is known that people in general can switch between different ways of interpreting events and feelings - a phenomenon known as frame shifting. But the researchers say their work shows that bilingual people that are active in two different cultures do it more readily, and that language is the trigger.

One part of the study got the volunteers to watch TV advertisements showing women in different scenarios. The participants initially saw the ads in one language - English or Spanish - and then six months later in the other.

Researchers David Luna from Baruch College, New York, US, and Torsten Ringberg and Laura Peracchio from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, US, found that women classified themselves and others as more assertive when they spoke Spanish than when they spoke English.

“In the Spanish-language sessions, informants perceived females as more self-sufficient and extroverted,” they say.

For example, one person saw the main character in the Spanish version of a commercial as a risk-taking, independent woman, but as hopeless, lonely, and confused in the English version.

Full article from New Scientist.

Besides the most basic terms in a language (greetings, numbers, how to say ‘yes’ and ‘no), swear words seem to be some of the most readily-learned phrases in foreign languages.  Just the other night, I met a Mandarin speaker whose Cantonese lexicon contained the words for ‘hello’, the numbers 1 to 10, and various ways to insult other people.  He was in the army in a Cantonese-speaking province, so this isn’t entirely unsurprising.

Why is there such a need to learn these words?  Perhaps it’s because learning other languages is sometimes so frustrating that learners want to express this.  I think it’s more that, especially in groups of younger people, swearing in a casual way is a way to connect with others, show that you are comfortable with them, and have a bit of a laugh.  As long as you choose your audience well, and don’t have conversations consisting entirely of swear words and rude gestures, I think it’s acceptable.

I’ve also found that people sometimes swear in other languages when it is inappropriate to swear in their own.  Even though many people know what the words mean, they seem to lose their potency in other languages.  For example, I’ve heard quite a few people say the German word Scheiße (scheisse) instead of the English counterpart, shit.  This has happened in social situations as well as in the workplace.

For a user-generated list of foreign swear words and phrases, have a look at YouSwear.com.  They have phrases in languages from Afrikaans to Yiddish, and they even have a Swear Phrase of the Day.

Do you have any other examples of people’s fantastic swearing abilities in foreign languages?

Image from Sianuska at Etsy.com.  ‘Old Lady’ is a foreign language sometimes, surely?