Learning Lingo

Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? -Richard Lederer

It is of interest to note that while some dolphins are reported to have learned English - up to fifty words used in correct context - no human being has been reported to have learned dolphinese. -Carl Sagan

To have another language is to possess a second soul. -Charlemagne

We should have a great fewer disputes in the world if words were taken for what they are, the signs of our ideas only, and not for things themselves. -John Locke

Language forces us to percieve the world as man presents it to us. -Julia Penelope Mai mai mai mai mai. (Thai translation with appropriate intonation = New wood doesn't burn, does it?)

I've been working in Thailand since January, and I've spent a year in this Country previously. But until now I've never made a systematic effort to learn the Thai language. This has changed. Is changing. Will change.Grammar, gotta love it!

Five days a week, one hour per day, I am receiving private lessons from a teacher in the Thai Department of my university. After only two weeks I have experienced a significant rise in my speaking ability and a dramatic increase in my comprehension. And I'm gratified by this, don't get me wrong. I want to increase the depth of my interactions with those around me. I eagerly anticipate not just an evolving awareness of words, but a more subtle understanding of a rich and sometimes hidden culture.

Still, and this may strike some as strange, I feel a bittersweet emotion at the approaching departure of my ignorance. There is something magical about communication without words.

When I drove a snowcoach in Yellowstone, part of my job was giving short tours of the geyser basins enroute to Old Faithful. In addition to a general understanding of geysers, I was expected to have familiarity with specific geothermal features such as their names, anectdotes associated with them, etc...

That was fine. But at Old Faithful, where I lived and where I didn't have tours to lead, I purposefully remained ignorant of the 'facts.' I loved experiencing just the landscape as opposed to experiencing a description of the landscape. To paraphrase Sri Ramakrishna, 'I just wanted it to be, not to be this or that.'

Anyway, I have experienced a similar phenomena with words. Sometimes definitions and descriptions distance us from the reality they're describing. This is no original discovery on my part. From Chomsky to Ram Dass, Buddhisim to psycholinguistics, the discrepency between words and realities has been noted and explored. Semanticist Alfred Korzybski warns, "The map is not the territory." An even more colloquial Alan Watts reminds us, "The menu is not the meal."

They say that people who are deprived of one sense often develop their other senses more fully to compensate. For example, a blind man may be particularly sensitive to the nuances of sound in his environment. Well, surrounded by a language I didn't understand, I became more attuned to other clues in communication.

Interestingly, most research shows that only 7 to 10% of communication is verbal. A. Barbour, author of 'Louder Than Words: Nonverbal Communication,' breaks communication down as follows: 7% verbal (words), 38% vocal (volume, pitch, rhythm, etc.), and 55% body movements (mostly facial expressions).

Of course, there's always the possibility that my nonverbal comprehension isn't as good as I think it is. Maybe instead of saying 'she likes me,' her message was actually 'back off, stalker.'

Seriously though, I find myself watching, not listening to, interactions even when I'm not a participant. Not communicating, but still somehow communing. Watching people with an obvious love and respect for each other.... Studying people who are absorbed in activities.... Observing the goodness of people who are simply happy, and even the poignancy of people who are sad. And children? I love watching children! Maybe it's because I'm getting older, but it is so easy to be moved while watching the young interact with their world. And watching these encounters without understanding words, I really have been forced to look closer at what is actually going on.

At any rate, if/when I (semi-) master the Thai language, I hope I remember to listen without words sometimes.... There is a 'critical period hypothesis' in language acquisition theory. It states that there is a crucial time in our developmental years when we are biologically capable of learning languages as fluently as native speakers. Some theorists have softened this hypothesis, calling it an 'optimal period instead' of a critical one. Steve Pinker, in his book, 'The Language Instinct,' states: "Acquisition of a normal language is guaranteed for children up to the age of six, is steadily compromised from then until shortly after puberty, and is rare thereafter."

However, other studies claim that multiple factors, including motivation and identity, are more key in language acquisition than a critical biological period. Either way, kids seem to breeze through this new language business a lot more skillfully than adults.

I have a friend, originally from England, who is married to a Thai woman and has two daughters, 8 and 10. They attend a school with many other kids of mixed nationalities, and are fluent in several languages. They speak to their father in English, and without missing a beat they switch to Thai when addressing their mother. Sometimes they talk with their friends in Italian or German. They also pick up a lot from the cartoon channel. The other day my friend was lecturing his youngest on one matter or another. This beautiful Eurasian kid, eight years old, long black hair and sincere brown eyes, extended her arm to her Dad's face, palm facing him. "Talk to the hand, Dad."

Since I am not a child, critical period or not, I'll just have to plug away. The Thai language is not unattainable, but it is a challenge. It's a tonal language, which means that depending on the tone used (high, low, rising, falling, neutral), the meaning of the word is totally different. Thai also has 'classifiers,' which I won't get into except to say there's an awful lot of the buggers. And mostly, the language is, well...foreign! I mean, how would you pronounce 'ngen' (one syllable only, please)?

But thank Buddha I'm not having to learn English! Once again, to quote Richard Lederer: "English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which of course, isn't a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible. And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this essay, I end it."

Chok dee! (goodbye/good luck)