Hello - first up you might have noticed this is coming from Substack. I’ve switched over. Hope you don’t mind. On with the show…
Having lived outside of my home country for the best part of 15 years, I'm accustomed to not understanding everything that's going on around me. Sitting in bars or restaurants, the sound of languages that isn't my own feels like home to me, so much so that when I am back in the UK, I suddenly understand what everyone is saying around me again highly disturbing. It takes days to tune the sound out.
As I've gotten older and gained more family responsibilities, it's become harder to take the time out to learn and practice the language of my new host country. Free of parental burden in Laos 8 years ago, I could pick up a good chunk of the language within a year. Now celebrating my one-year anniversary in Turkey, I can barely count to ten in Turkish. Shame on me.
II
Such linguistic ineptitude has made me, unfortunately, reliant on Google Translate. It's a curious thing to get the hang of using. In Thailand, my previous home, I figured out what kind of English sentence constructions would more easily translate into Thai. Google Translate worked pretty well when I couldn't find the right words to explain a washing machine explosion or a bee's nest appearing on our balcony. In Turkey, however, using the same app seems to be a disaster, at least so far.
This morning I had to go to the bank, a trip I dread as the lady at the counter seems to swing between pissed off and cordial in minutes. My first interaction with her left me fuming. I asked for some help and, after some typing into her phone, she held up a sentence: "It's not happening", and then she nodded to the door. I asked for the same thing a month later, and she smiled and said it was no problem. We have a complicated relationship.
After some time, I realised that the problem wasn't so much her (it was a bit, but still...) but the app. It was terrible at translating Turkish. I've had hundreds of little interactions through the app like this in Turkey. All the while, I thought people were being rude when they probably thought the same of me and could barely understand what I was trying to say.
When I got back to my office after this little episode, I opened my emails and in the first message I saw a commonly used passive-aggressive sentence in response to a question: "As we already discussed...", which in normal speak means "I already told you, pay attention". It wasn't directed to me, but this little bullet of negativity still got to me for pointlessly planting a seed of negativity, a little black spot in an otherwise simple conversation.
III
This leads me to the conclusion that digital discourse is disastrous for us. Apps, emails, and the related tools are warping how words should be used. By adding some technology between me and the bank teller, an awkward period of arm waving and miming has been instead replaced by confusing phone readings and awkward, strained silence. Did Google Translate improve our interaction? No. Despite helping us find the right words, Google in fact created more tension in our interaction. That's because while the app gives us words, it doesn't cushion these words in the context of what we need and want.
I'm surprised I'm writing this, but one thing that has helped add nuance is GIFS and emojis. They can help add lightness and context. When I lived in Thailand, I recall reading about how stickers, widely used on the popular Japanese chat app LINE, have helped high-context cultures like Thailand and Japan gather visual cues around what's being said. Adding a sticker like a shy awkward teddy bear to a reply such as 'yes maybe' can add a whole world of context to a short conversation.
By now I should have added something about Wittgenstein’s philosophy on the limits of language, the perfect philosopher to tackle this issue. The thing is, I haven't managed to read much of his work because it's bloody difficult to read. I've read about him often, and something seems to slip away each time I think I've begun to grasp him. Understanding Wittgenstein forever remains on my to-do list.
Anyway, what I think I understand today of Wittgenstein is that he believed language evolved with life and therefore cannot be simply studied on paper in terms of construction, syntax and the like: “Speaking a language is part of an activity, or of a form of life.” Words are not as fixed as we think they are and it’s incredibly difficult for us to define everyday words, and even if we did their definition might be much different in other times or contexts. Google Translate and a lot of discourse online is stripped of context and the meaning of words changes with it, making us all grumpy, nit-picking stress-heads.
Words online can be a meal being served with no colour, shape, or scent. The words are there, they'll sustain you, but there's a good chance they won't add much colour to your life. There's also a good chance what’s being said will err on the side of grumpy and defensive.
I will leave this blathering with a favourite quote from the fabulously eccentric Christopher Walken.
"I have this theory about words. There's a thousand ways to say "Pass the salt". It could mean, you know, "Can I have some salt?" or it could mean, "I love you.". It could mean, "I'm very annoyed with you". Really, the list could go on and on. Words are little bombs, and they have a lot of energy inside them."
Lovely piece. Really complements What Bangs piece this week as well, and both seem to have reached me as I have been pondering thoughts around words.
I really like the pass the salt quote at the end.
Y'all are making me want to tackle Wittgenstein.