Words grow like plants

Gerardo Petsaín Sharup, Cosmovisión Wampís

They find a niche where they have a function that allows them to persist. They live from energy drawn from the sun and the ground. On the burnt grounds where the amazon once flourished, the soybean grows and takes its nutrients from the soil. Say it is picked and packed into a refrigerated container, and a plane or perhaps a ship brings it to a different country for processing. It becomes a product. It is packaged again. After a long journey through factories and distribution centres, the soybean product is mediated to you by all the materials and stories woven together in the concept and physical place of a supermarket. Now at last the soybean gets to sublimate itself; fulfil its life’s destiny – albeit not to flower and bear fruit; it passes your lips and makes acquaintance with the grinding power of your molars. 

This is the soybean’s transition ritual into a new society with a logic of its own, or perhaps many logics interacting: the subsistence and desires of each of its cells and particles. Cast into neat rows, the epithelial cells of the intestinal lining function like a port, taking in the imports from far overseas. The delivery from the Amazon forest grounds is sent on its merry way through the body’s distributional infrastructure.  Our soybean is deconstructed into building materials and fuel. Through the red canals of the internal inferno the fuel flows on its way back up to the site of the original transition, where the tongue and lips now propelled by its fire shake and obstruct the air flow coming through the lungs and past the larynx. Fricative then resounding and approximating, a bilabial stop is followed slightly later by a nasal sound: soybean, says the mouth. 

Depending on what mouth and what context, the air vibrations may have different effects. The sound travels into the tables and the teacups as much as it travels into a present ear. In what seems fast to us but an eternity to a mouse, the nerve nodes attached to said receptacle dissect the sound sequence. Soybean? A host of associations are called up. Memory drawers made up of nerve cells full of encoded references for textures, flavours, contexts and historical and geographical understanding are activated, some of the information even pushing its way into the consciousness. We are in luck: this person understands English and they have had tofu before. The sound sequence seems to have successfully transferred a concept from one human body to the next. Although the listener’s experiences with soybeans occurred in rather different settings from where the speaker has encountered them, and although there are many separate but alike entities which are referred to in this way, they both appear to agree about what part of the universe is worthy of this name. And so the word has yet again proved its usefulness at being used as a shorthand for the pulse from the lea of its mother plant.

Just as the plant is one iteration of a tradition with a long history, similar to but not the same as her many ancestors, so the uttered word is one instance of a “family” of very similar utterances which are however each entirely unique in their own right – not just each context being different from the next (each sentence, page, situation) but in spoken language the voice onset, vowel fronting and the shape of the mouth cavity all resulting in something as singularly matchless as a fingerprint. And yet we can understand the word as belonging to a family of such words just as we can recognise a hydrangea as being a hydrangea.

Evaluation of the languages in the Master

Now that I have finished the Master (Learning and Communication in Multilingual and Multicultural Contexts), and the experience has already started greying out in my mind, it seems like the right time - or the last possible time at least - to write a blog post I had been intending to write, evaluating how I experienced it. Particularly I would like to evaluate some of the practical elements of how the multilingualism so proudly announced in the Master's name and on its website, actually plays out in and around the classroom and the student residences.

Entrance requirements
The Master is trilingual in English, French and German, and when I applied it was specified that you have to have C1 level English and B2 in at least one of the other two languages. Classes are taught in one or more of the three languages, and most of the staff is at least bilingual as well. It was also stated, however, that the degree is not a language learning course, although it included some language classes in the programme.

One of the first points to make here is about those specific language requirements. Because of the way English proficiency is obligatory, but aside from that you can choose either French or German, English is already effectively the lingua franca before the course has even started; through this requirement it is assured that English will be the language everyone has in common.

Teaching multilingually
The way that the classes worked is they were mostly taught in two out of the three languages, usually either French and English or German and English. There were also some ambitious teachers who taught in all three. I think the teachers were explicitly encouraged to make their classes multilingual. The actual balance between the languages differed per class, depending mainly on the teacher's choice of strategy but also on the students' input.

There were for instance teachers who tried switching between the languages while lecturing (the ones really dedicated to the multilingual ideal); teachers who mostly lectured in english but who presented case studies in other languages, with or without paraphrase; and teachers who mostly taught in French or in German but who might occasionally switch to English to accommodate student questions. Often the first class of a course would be more multilingual than the last one, as the teacher realises some of the students cannot follow the class well because their German or French comprehension skills are lacking, or because the students keep asking questions and discussing in English, so that the teacher starts to accommodate. That said I also had classes where students would make a genuine effort to make contributions in the class language, sometimes going so far as to speak it amongst ourselves. I had a few classmates and friends with whom I'd speak German, even though it was neither of our first language - I'm thinking of girls from Romania, Slovakia and China respectively (hi!).

I generally tried to pick classes in all three of the languages every semester, so choosing classes not just based on what I found most interesting, but also making sure I'd have at least a bit of French input. My French comprehension really isn't at an academic level though, as I found out while sitting through lecture after lecture in fast French. I eventually zone out, however hard I am trying to pay attention. If I do my best I will get a sense of what the teacher is saying, but I can't follow the specifics unless they talk slowly and give me some time to let it sink in or look up some words after every line. Powerpoints can help, but they can be distracting too, as you are trying to translate the info on the slides while also trying to follow what the teacher is saying. Somehow, with some teamwork and some bluffing, I did manage to get alright grades for these classes, but I haven't retained very much of what they were actually talking about.

The course as a language learning environment
That brings me onto the next topic, namely that the course wasn't intended to be a language learning course, but rather a multilingual way to deliver a humanities research course. The experience of multilingualism was part of the experience the course directors aimed for us to have, but greater fluency wasn't one of the outcomes on which students were evaluated. Yet almost everyone who chose to do the course, did so hoping to improve their language skills. At the start of the course, some intensive language classes were offered at beginner and intermediate level. I took French intermediate, so my 3rd language of the three course languages. I think people generally chose to do these courses in the course language that they were weakest in. The course I did was fun and it helped me to figure out some French past tenses and the like. In two weeks you are not going to reach fluency and I don't think that was the hope of the course designers. I know that some other students got quite annoyed with their beginner language courses, either because they found German too hard or because they didn't get along with the teacher. The intensive language courses were fairly separate from the rest of the degree and were not explicitly followed up on in the rest of the courses, which might be a tip, to integrate them more through e.g. reflection on how much you can learn in this way, which methods seemed to be most productive and so on.
 
The way the assignments worked is you were allowed to write them in any of the languages that the teacher felt confident marking in - so normally the stated course languages, but I suppose if you had another language in common with the teacher you could write it in that. (I never tried this but I seem to recall that the Luxembourgish students wrote something in Luxembourgish.)

Now, writing an assignment for university is hard in any language. Mostly every sentence costs a lot of thought and effort. You need to make sure your argument makes perfect sense, your explanations are well-written and sensible, your sources are quoted in relevant ways. But there is a lot of time pressure and you're also working on a few other assignments. Little surprise, then, that students do not venture to write in languages that they aren't very confident in. My German is at a fairly high level - I used to talk to my boss in German, I can maintain a long and nuanced conversation, albeit with some wrong inflections, I know words like ausbilden and eintrichteren and I know you can call money Mäuse. But academic writing is absolutely a skill apart. The teachers are aware that it is, and the course does offer classes in academic writing in French, German and English. I took the German one and enjoyed it, but it was a bit intimidating that I was doing the same assignments as the native speakers who were in the class with me (why they didn't take the French class instead is beyond me).

I think that the course could have developed its facilities for the students to develop their languages more, importantly by explicitly rewarding students for writing an assignment in another language. I suggested this to the course coordinators and they felt it would be hard to enforce this - as it would mean differentiating between a German native speaker writing in German, and a Greek person writing in German; or even between a Greek person who has lived in Germany before and a Greek person who hasn't; the implementation would be either quite subjective, or very complicated.

Wereld! Hallo

Het plan is om een boek te schrijven over hoe normen veranderen op dezelfde manier als taal, en daarmee het inzicht definitief te populariseren dat taal en cultuur niet wezenlijk van elkaar verschillen maar eigenlijk gewoon hetzelfde zijn. Binnen de moderne taalkunde is dat geen wereldschokkend nieuws, denk ik, maar daarbuiten realiseert geen hond zich dat! Taal bestaat uit normen! Als u, mijn lezer, enkel de eerste bladzijde van dit boek leest, hoop ik dat in elk geval die boodschap door blijft knagen en zich stukje bij beetje in uw overige denkpatronen nestelt.

[Hier die kerngedachte]

Sinds ik op dit inzicht kwam heb ik er een boek over willen schrijven. Ik kwam op het idee terwijl ik bij mijn vriendin Siri thuis zat. Onder haar luid protest was ik haar aan het uitleggen hoe taalakademies werken. Ze zei dat ze niet luisterde en dat het haar niet interesseerde, maar ik bleef maar doorzaniken, net zo lang tot haar vriend thuiskwam en ik wegmoest zodat ze rustig konden zoenen en eten koken. Staand op straat besefte ik dat ik hier een boek over wilde schrijven: hoe rechtbanken en taalakademies dezelfde functie vervullen, de ene voor normen en de andere voor woordbetekenissen. Siri wilde mijn verhaal al niet horen, hoezo zit dan de wereld op dit boek te wachten? Wereld, ik heb er vertrouwen in dat jullie me volgen in deze duizelingwekkende ontdekkingsreis. Het wordt vernieuwend aan alle kanten. De boodschap noch haar vorm zijn ooit tevoren zo gezien. Enkel dat ze op papier geprint en gekaft gaat worden en wellicht in boekwinkels en bij praatjes aan de man/vrouw gebracht, wat toch vrij onvernieuwend is; misschien kan ik het op eetpapier schrijven met choco-pen en – daar met een geit op een vlot een boek promoten al gedaan is – het door ezelrijdende schoonmaaksters laten voorlezen in gevangenissen en op kinderfeestjes (de kinderen kunnen het eetpapier vervolgens in hun party-bags mee naar huis krijgen en daar de zwaardere theorie tijdens het avondeten aan hun ouders uitleggen.)

In Luxemburg betalen ze je dik. Ik kreeg op de dag dat ik aankwam meteen een baan en ik beëindig de studie ondanks veelvuldige uitstapjes naar het buitenland met een klein maar zeker spaarvermogen. Binnen Noordwest-Europa denk ik dat het contrast tussen Luxemburg en Noord-Ierland een van de grootst mogelijk vindbare is. Met wat hier het magere overschot is van een studentenloon, kan ik mezelf in Belfast denk ik maandenlang in leven houden.

Dit boek moet in het Nederlands. Als je zo lang in het buitenland woont wordt Nederlands iets vreemds, het is ver weg en een soort fascinerende herinnering. De verhouding tot de taal verandert zeker weten: nu is het iets wat ik kan en weet, wat ik met mijn vrienden niet kan delen (ter hunner treurnis toch vaak geprobeerd). Als ik iemand tegenkom die het ook spreekt is het een gelegenheid om zowel voor hen die het wel als die het niet verstaan mijn vloeiendheid tentoon te spreiden. Aldus ontstaat in een woonkamer in Belfast een doorwrochten filosofische onderzoeking in het Nederlands. Het moet niet alleen in het Nederlands, het moet ook in zeer toegankelijk publiek-wetenschappelijk Nederlands, is het idee – sterker nog, een soort plezierig persoonlijk relaas waarbij je de zogenaamd moeilijke theorie snapt zonder dat het enige moeite kost. Wie weet win ik tegelijkertijd een spinozabeker en een gouden griffel.
 
Dat brengt me op het volgende thema: wetenschappelijke objectiviteit. Mij is het helder dat wetenschap niet objectief kan zijn en beter ook niet kan doen alsof. Voor ik dat aan de hand van Kuhn en zijn paradigma's ga uitleggen, wat ik overigens helemaal nog niet gelezen heb, eerst een anecdote ter illustratie: [het contrast tussen de denkwijzen in de MAGEO en de MLCMMC.]

C. Kramsch differentiates between culture and language

Dit is een  verder ongerelateerde maar wel mooie foto die ik in Namibië nam. Er was een verzameling provisorische hutjes, waar deze, geheel uit frisdrankblikjes opgetrokken, er één van was. Dit stond in de buurt van een verkoppunt voor al dan niet zelfgemaakte kettingen en armbandjes. Ik denk dat de hutjes daar stonden om de verkopers tegen de zon te beschermen zolang als er geen kopers in de buurt waren (vaak, want het was midden in de woestijn). Het kan natuurlijk ook dat de hutjes zelf de attractie waren.

I had a lot of fun reading the first chapter of Language and culture by Claire Kramsch, especially because I didn't fully agree with what she was saying, although I found it interesting. Apparently creativity breeds from disagreement, because after reading and avidly typed the following, which I would now like to share with you.

In the chapter “The relationship of Language and Culture”, Kramsch makes a differentiation between language and culture, however closely related they are to her.

“Culture is the product of socially and historically situated discourse communities, that are to a large extent imagined communities, created and shaped by language.” (p 10)

“Language is a system of signs that is seen as having itself a cultural value. Speakers identify themselves and others through their use of language; they view their language as a symbol of their social identity. The prohibition of its use is often perceived by its speakers as a rejection of their social group and their culture. Thus we can say that language symbolizes cultural reality. (p3, original emphasis) 

Yet I feel the following passages prove otherwise, namely that language and culture are not separate, but the same. Culture is “language by other means”, or language is “spoken culture”.

 “Culture both liberates and constrains. It liberates by investing the randomness of nature with meaning, order and rationality and by providing safeguards against chaos; it constrains by imposing a structure on nature and by limiting the range of possible meanings created by the individual.” (p 10)

“Common attitudes, beliefs and values are reflected in the way members of the group use language – for example, what they choose to say or not to say and how they say it. Thus, in addition to the notion of speech community composed of people who use the same linguistic code, we can speak of discourse communities to refer to the common ways in which members of a social group use language to meet their social needs. Not only the grammatical, lexical, and phonological features of their language (for example, teenage talk, professional jargon, political rhetoric) differentiate them from others, but also the topics they choose to talk about, the way they present information, the style with which they interact, in other words their discourse accent.” (p6-7, original emphasis)

“The way in which people use the spoken, written, or visual medium itself creates meanings that are understandable to the group they belong to, for example, through a speaker's tone of voice, accent, conversational style, gestures and facial expressions. Through all its verbal and non-verbal aspects, language embodies cultural reality.” (p3, original emphasis.)

It surprises me that even in an introductory work to the relation between language and culture, the idea that the two are the same thing through different means is not expressed. It is not such a far stretch of concepts, but it makes a lot more sense than to separate them.

As Kramsch suggests, culture helps to structure the chaos of nature, and invests specific objects, places and actions with meaning. It allows people to share common understandings, assumptions and expectations. Language does the exact same, but instead of associating e.g. white flowers or the graveyard with the idea of death, it associates the sound sequence /dεθ/ with the idea of death.

The sound sequence may be a more accessible and quick way of expressing the idea than the flowers or the graveyard, and the flowers or the graveyard give a more total experience: you can see, smell and touch them. They are also things of themselves, whereas /dεθ/ is nothing other than the sound sequence. Thus the relation between the sound sequence and the concept is more direct than that between the flowers and the concept.

Kramsch, C. J. (1998). Language and culture (Vol. 3). Oxford: Oxford University Press.