The value of carrots

In recent weeks my students have been learning about the concept of linguistic value (from Ferdinand de Saussure). The differences in value between terms in different languages can have very humorous effects, as I have found on numerous occasions.

I’m currently in the Netherlands on a family visit. Last night we had dinner with my husband’s old school friends, and one of them was telling me (in English) about some dental treatment he had had recently, including some ‘carrot treatment’.

Carrot treatment?

Image from here.

The English word ‘carrot’ is translated by the Dutch word ‘wortel'. But ‘wortel' also means ‘root’ more generally. I found that out a while ago when I was reading a news report or something that mentioned trees being ‘ontworteld’ in a storm. Recognising ‘wortel’ from ‘carrot’ (the first of its meanings that I learnt), I thought ‘upcarroted’? But my husband explained that ‘wortel’ means both ‘root’ generally and ‘carrot’ specifically. The trees were actually ‘uprooted’, then.

So it turned out my husband’s friend had had root canal therapy. In Dutch, as in English, the word for ‘root’ also refers to the roots of teeth, not just plants. It is also used in mathematics (square root, etc) and to refer to the background of something ('my roots are in Scotland'), as in English .

I drew a diagram representing the difference in ‘value’ between the terms in the two languages.

The large rectangle represents semantic space. In Dutch, ‘wortel’ takes up the same semantic space that in English is occupied by two terms, ‘root’ and ‘carrot’. Thus the term ‘wortel’ doesn’t have the same value in Dutch as either ‘root’ or ‘carrot’ in English, although we can say they occupy some of the same semantic space.

Bureaucratic Circus

For the best part of the last two weeks, I have spent every weekday morning at one bureaucratic office or other on the infamous quest for the Italian ‘permesso di soggiorno’ - a permit to stay in Italy required of every foreigner who wants to stay for more than 3 months.

Queue of immigrants outside a Questura office (image from here)

I won’t go into all the gory details in this post - the process is still ongoing! When I finally have the permesso in my hot little hand I hope to write something that may be of use to other people like me - Australians married to European citizens who want or need to live in Florence for more than three months.

The relevance of my experience to anyone beyond that narrow designation is questionable at best, because I have heard that every city has a slightly different process you have to go through. It also makes a difference being married to a European citizen (I’m not yet convinced it makes the process much easier) and which non-European country you come from (the kinds of documents you get there and what the system is like).

Inside a Questura office- the one I went to in Florence looks more dingy than this, though! (Image from here)

I have been reading in Genesis where God spoke to Abraham (then Abram) and told him to leave his country, his people and his father’s household and go to the land that God would show him. That land happened to be the ancient land of Canaan.

The other day my husband and I were discussing this complicated process and the seemingly ridiculous documents we have been asked to produce. We reflected on how in days gone by people didn’t have to go through this kind of process, and we thought of Abraham and others in the Bible who had to go to a different country to live. It made me imagine what might have happened if Abraham had had to deal with Italy’s (or probably most countries’) immigration system, assuming Abraham had identification documents...

Canaan Immigration Officer: Signore, Signora, can I see your passports?
Abraham: Here they are.
CIO: Your passports only give your names as ‘Abraham’ and ‘Sarah’. Do you have a marriage certificate to show that you are married.
Abraham: Certainly. Here-
CIO: Hmmm... This says your names are ‘Abram’ and ‘Sarai’. Do you have a document that certifies your name change? I need to verify that you are the same people as on the marriage certificate?
Abraham: Um, no...
CIO: Under what circumstances did you change your names?
Abraham: God gave us new names.
CIO: Hmmm.... Well, that doest appear to be on this list of valid reasons for name change. I’m afraid I can’t process your request. You will have to go back to your home country and get all the necessary documentation, and then come back and try again.
Abraham: But I’m 75 years old and we’ve walked all the way here from Haran with everything we own.
CIO: I’m sorry, sir. There’s nothing I can do. You have to supply the appropriate paperwork.

Now of course, God himself could have come down with the name change certificates and waved them in the officer’s face, but he sometimes chooses not to act immediately in order to teach us perseverance and patience (James 1:2-4). This is what we have been learning.

The semiotics of street numbers

Around the world people have come up with different ways to organise the numbering of buildings. Growing up in Australia I assumed it was logical that you would use a numbering system where the numbering started at one end of the street and had even numbers on one side and odd numbers on the other side. That way, if you needed to find number 22, you would know which side of the street to walk along and which direction to walk in (once you could work out which end of the street you were at).

In Uganda, we didn't have the chance to test out very many neighbourhoods so I'm not sure what the system was. Generally they use ‘plot' numbers, but I'm not sure if these were arranged in numerical order or not. Google maps doesn't tend to show plot numbers and only some of the addresses Google shows for businesses on the map include the plot number.

When I went on exchange to Japan many years ago, the street address had something like 5-33-1 and then the area name, and I never worked out what the numbers meant. This Wikipedia page gives some explanation, but I'm still confused! Apparently most Japanese streets don't have names; rather, building numbers are worked out by blocks.

Here in Florence (and this may or may not be the same for Italy in general), I thought the system was the same as in Australia. There are building numbers shown clearly by means of a number tile attached to the wall of the building, and they increase in twos, with odd and even numbers on opposite sides of the street. But I sometimes saw in addresses something like '52R', and wondered what the 'R' meant. I learnt that it stands for rosso, meaning 'red'.

Someone explained to us that at some point in time, some of the larger buildings were divided up and different entrances were added as more apartments were created, or a large building that had a garage at street level sold the garage to someone so that it needed to become a separate address. The new entrances were then numbered with red number tiles arranged sequentially according to the red numbers in that street. (In Australia we would use the letters a, b, c, etc to indicate new subdivisions at the same street number.)

The original numbering system uses blue number tiles and is numbered in the same way as the Australian system. So now what you see is two different numbering systems side by side in the one street. Often the numbers appear out of order, as in the picture below (59, 65R, 61), but once you know the difference between the red and blue numbers, it makes sense.

Since learning this, the semiotics of the number tiles have become clearer. I had thought that the differences between number tiles was due to the style preferences of the building owner. In Australia, whoever owns or designs the building chooses how they want to indicate the number (or not). Now I could see that the blue number tiles are basically the same throughout the city (with some minor differences) - they are larger and have a glossy glaze. The red number tiles are usually smaller, with a matt finish and the number in recess (although occasionally they are red versions of the blue tiles, in the picture at the top). I also noticed that the tiles tend to be placed at a reasonably consistent level on the wall, with blue number tiles relatively higher and red number tiles relatively lower (unfortunately, neither of the pictures here shows this tendency!).

So there are different semiotic systems for identifying buildings - numbers, colour, letters, number placement - and perhaps none is particularly more or less logical than the others (although the Ugandan one is still a bit of a mystery!).

Carving up the world

We have now been in Italy for just over a month, having moved here for my husband to take up a research position for one year. I have slowly been picking up some Italian (hoping to pick up more, more quickly!) as I go to the local market most days and interact with the market stall holders. The market stall holders know me now and try to help me learn new words. The other day it was interesting to learn from the butcher that the word for 'thick' in Italian is the same as the word for 'tall' (alta/o). I think it's also the word for 'deep’.

It's interesting because the concepts of height and thickness are differentiated in English but not in Italian. That aspect of our experience of space is divided up differently in the two languages. This is a concept I was trying to teach my students recently - the concept of linguistic relativity and how different languages make sense of experience in different ways.

In English we want to make a distinction between the concept of height (how far something stands vertically above the ground, as with a person or a building), thickness (similar to tall-ness but it doesn't have to be vertical; perhaps better described as how far between the two opposing edges of something, as with a sponge or a coat), and depth (how far something extends down towards its lowest point, as with the ocean or a baking tin). You can see how they are all quite similar concepts. But there is a subtlety that we can discern if we think about why we use three different words to refer to them rather than one.

So now I know to ask for 'taller/deeper/thicker' pork chops rather than 'bigger' ones.

Great workmanship in Tanzania

We recently returned from two and a half weeks away, mainly in Tanzania. For some of that time we stayed in a village called Mande, near Moshi, on the lower slopes of Mt Kilimanjaro. We were hosted by the parents of a friend of my husband, who couldn't stop telling us how much they liked having our company. They were great hosts, with a welcoming and open attitude and wonderfully hearty Tanzanian home cooking.

The famous Mount Kilimanjaro

It was a very peaceful place compared to busy, traffic-filled Kampala - except when all the village roosters were crowing in canon (which could start as early as 3am!), or when the pigs could see their food being prepared and started making excited and impatient grunting noises, or when some of the village ladies gathered in the front room of the house to sing hymns before studying the Bible together. Not all noise is unwelcome! One day they were singing 'How Great Thou Art' in Swahili and I went and joined in in English, which was wonderful.

As I stood outside one evening looking up at the black night sky with its brilliant stars, the first verse of that hymn (see below) immediately came to mind. God's workmanship is truly magnificent! We saw so much of the variety of creation as we travelled around - flat, dry plains dotted with small villages of mud huts; lush tropical forests with red fertile soil; rocky outcrops scattered over the landscape; looming mountains; rolling hills... We also had the opportunity to take a three-day safari to some of the nearby parks and we saw such a variety of creatures for the first time. Again, this reminded us of the grandeur of what God made with a word and to which he gave life and breath and everything.

One of many brilliantly coloured lizards we saw in Dodoma.

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder

Consider all the works thy hand hath made;

I see the stars, I hear the might thunder,

Thy power throughout the universe displayed:

Then sings my soul, my Saviour Lord, to Thee:

How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

Then sings my soul, my Saviour Lord, to Thee:

How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

Semiotic Resources of Kampala Boda-Boda Drivers

There are literally thousands of boda-bodas in Kampala. Boda-bodas are essentially public transport by motorbike. There is apparently no system of licensing or accreditation for someone to start charging a fee for members of the public to hop on the back of his (I haven't yet seen any female boda-boda drivers) motorbike to get to their destination. Anyone who owns a motorbike and needs a bit of extra cash can do it, it seems. They also operate as couriers for goods, not just passengers: on Saturday I saw a huge pile of mattresses, at least 2m high, being carried on the back of one! Some people even move house by boda, we are told.

Boda-bodas have a reputation, even among the locals, for being reckless drivers. We have seen them cross the median strip and drive on the wrong side of the road if there is a traffic jam. We have also seen them driving every which way around roundabouts. This is with a passenger (or two) on the back, who of course has no control over how or where the driver drives the motorbike on the way to the destination!

Despite all this, they are very widely used, even by local friends we think are relatively cautious, and are the fastest way to get around, especially in the traffic-clogged roads. A local friend of ours studying at the university, who has a very nice car, says if he's running late for class he leaves his car at home and jumps on a boda-boda. Yesterday some expats working locally told us some American friends of theirs who had a seriously sick child put the child and her mother on the back of a boda-boda to get the to a reliable medical centre as fast as possible, as the international hospital where they initially went had not the facilities or staff to attend to the child as quickly as her condition required.

There are always at least a dozen boda-bodas hanging around the entrance of the university (this is known as a boda-boda 'stage') and I pass them daily when I go to buy food for dinner (our fridge doesn't work too well, hence the daily excursions). So over the past 2 and a bit weeks I have observed a range of semiotic resources that the boda-boda drivers use to attract customers.

• the wave: if the boda-boda driver sees you coming from a distance, he raises his hand as high as he can (perhaps to elevate himself above the other drivers around him) and waves at you to come.
• the shout: as you come closer, the driver shouts 'mam! mam!' I don't yet know what they shout if you're a male.
• the beep: if you are walking along the road, and a boda-boda is driving along the road nearby without a passenger, he'll beep at you to let you know there's a ride available if you want one.

One good thing about boda-bodas is that they know the city very well and are good people to ask for directions!

Postcard from Uganda: language

Greetings from Kampala, Uganda! We arrived about 10 days ago to work as visiting scholars at Makerere University, and there have been many interesting things to observe in this initial time, including some language points.

I have noticed the following systematic uses in Ugandan English that are different from Australian English, which may well be a feature of other Englishes elsewhere:

• 'pick' - instead of 'pick up', e.g. 'I called the number you gave, but no one picked, so can you call me back on Monday?' and 'I'll come and pick you around 2.30pm'.
• 'thank you too' - in response to a 'thank you', as an adjacency pair, e.g. in the supermarket when I thank the checkout person they often say this, as opposed to just 'thank you'.
• 'born-agains' - used to differentiate Christians who have been spiritually born again from 'nominal' Christians. For example, our apartment attendant asked 'are you people born-agains?' and another friend introduced us to someone else saying 'these people are born again, too'. In Australia asking 'are you people Christians' would probably get the answer she was looking for because people are less likely to identify as Christians unless they are actually believers. But a larger proportion of Ugandans would identify as Christians (statistically about 84%!), at least nominally, so the word 'Christian' doesn't have quite the same value here. It's almost the default. Hence 'born-again' is a useful alternative.
• 'done' - meaning finished, e.g. waiters/waitresses might ask 'are you done', rather than 'have you finished?' This usage also occurs in American English I think. But there is another usage, when a waiter/waitress might say 'the chicken is done', meaning there is no more. I think this meaning is less common in American English, as the expression would normally mean 'it is cooked and ready'.
• 'You are welcome' - as an elaborated form of the simple 'welcome', which is more common in Australian English. I have heard this from a wide range of people: new colleagues at the university, students, supermarket attendants (especially the friendly guys at the meat counter at the nearby supermarket), waiters/waitresses,  and people at the church we visited. I find it rather endearing and somehow more sincere than just 'welcome'.
• 'dear' - seems to be used as a generic term to address someone who might be a peer (rather than specifically as a term of endearment), e.g. the young woman who sat next to me in church on Sunday wrote me a note on her bulletin that said 'My dear, I would liked to speak to you after the service', and a colleague replied to a line in an email I sent with 'thank you dear'.
• 'what': in a number of teaching contexts (church sermon, Bible study group, introductory linguistics lecture), I have heard the teachers/leaders using a construction in which they use 'what' in a sentence to prompt the hearers to supply the word they are about to say (at least internally). An example (loosely based on a lecture I attended this morning) would be something like 'Morphology is the study of the internal structure of words. We say that words have one or more morphemes, which are the smallest meaningful units of words. For example the word 'students' has two meaningful units: 'student' and 's'. So we say it has two - what? - morphemes.' The construction has a particular prosodic and intonational pattern - there is a slight pause before the 'what' and and a slight rising intonation on 'what' followed by falling intonation on the rest of the clause (which is usually just one key word or phrase that the teacher wants to emphasise).
• etc: On a number of occasions I've heard teachers (and some others not in a teaching role) use 'etc' to indicate that they are providing an incomplete list. But instead of saying 'etcetera', they say 'e. t. c', i.e. spelling out the abbreviation.

Hopefully I will discover more as we go along!

A new year, a new name

After a long silence on my blog, I feel I'm returning having emerged from a chrysalis in which I've undergone some significant changes. Not so much to my form (I'm far from being a butterfly!) but to many of the circumstances of my life.

I got married almost three weeks ago, so now I have a new name (Mrs/Dr Claire Urbach), a new home and neighbourhood, a new routine, new responsibilities and joys as a wife, and I'll soon start a new semester of teaching while continuing the ministry training I began last semester.

We had a lovely time away on our honeymoon and stayed in some gorgeous spots along the north coast of New South Wales - the sunset photo below was taken from the balcony of our riverfront apartment at Nambucca Heads. If only we could have stayed there longer than one night!

 We were very excited to be able to get a close-up view of koalas in the wild at Port Stephens - not just one koala, but a koala with a baby on its back, descending a tree, walking across the ground, and climbing up another tree! Very cute. I wanted to upload a video here but it didn't seem to work, unfortunately.

 There were also some awesome goannas which we were fortunate to spot - this large one (a lace monitor, I think) at Rocky Creek Dam in the Byron Bay hinterland...

 

 ...and this one up a tree at the top of Mt Yarahappini in the Nambucca Valley region.

Previously my Dutch husband has been (jokingly) convinced that all famous Australian wildlife (kangaroos, etc) do not really exist and if you do see one it'll be either at a zoo or wildlife park, or in the distance in the wild, and is therefore just a person wearing a suit. But I think these sightings of koalas and goannas were sufficient evidence for him at least for the existence of those creatures. The jury is still out on kangaroos, though, until we see one that is not in a wildlife park or dead on the side of the road!