Christmas Spirit?

Without too much ado, my wishes of a peaceful and hopeful Christmas go out to everyone. The deliberate effort here is to avoid the Santa- and shopping-centered Christmas and focus on something more beautiful and, hopefully, more important. Something that the song below begins to express, but can only exist if it is carried on in our hearts, words and actions.

Morning Has Broken is originally an Irish hymn, made famous by Cat Stevens (whose voice can be heard in the video above). Here are the lyrics, attributed to Eleanor Farjeon.

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day.

Society Seen Through Jokes: What Stereotypes Tell Us

I discussed earlier that jokes which refer to certain aspects of society may well be considered a form of art, as they express feelings and ideas, as well as social truths in creative ways, through metaphors or parables or other devices.

We've looked at the process that takes place as a 'social' joke is born from a source and reaches the state of final product. Now let's shift our perspective for a sec and look at the other end of the stick: once we come across such a joke, what kind of social truths does it convey about the society that has produced it? What does it tell us about the people behind it?

Here, I find it particularly interesting that certain groups of people are attributed certain characteristics: many social jokes are based on extreme stereotyping. Even more interesting is that these stereotypes differ from country to country, sometimes from region to region.

As Romania (Transylvania) is the only place I've ever lived in, I can only bring valid examples from the joke-stereotypes which are frequent here. For instance, many jokes are based on the idea that policemen are complete idiots. I suppose it shows the kind of respect that people here have for the institution. I've heard that in some more civilised countries people wouldn't begin to imagine how such jokes can exist. Then, many jokes dwell on the thought that marriage and wives are bad things, and mothers-in-law are something horrible. Also, different nationalities are associated with different characteristics: the Scottish are stingy, Jews are shrewd (especially in business), the Japanese are small and yellow, the Somalis weigh about 20 kilos and they eat one grain of rice a day. Similar generalising thoughts exist about locals of different regions, for instance, in Transylvania, it is said that folks in Oltenia (south of the Carpations, along the river Olt) are even thicker than policemen. Not really sure what kind of jokes they have down there though...

Generalisations which, if you think of it, are very cruel. But that is beside the point. The point is, some of these stereotypes are world-wide, others are not. Those that are wold-wide, reflect a world-wide opinion. The more restricted ones are signs of differences between nations, values, concerns, attitudes. Through 'social' jokes, we can gain an understanding of local social stereotypes, which can reveal deep aspects local society, anywhere.

Disclaimer: no offense is meant to any of the groups mentioned (or ignored) above. The generalisations do not represent the author's views or opinions regarding any nationality or group of people, but serve as examples of the existence of social stereotyping.

Stop and Think. Blog Action Day 2011: Food

Before I go on talking about another aspect of how jokes are a form of art, I'd like to touch on something slightly more serious. In the previous post, I brought up a joke based on a fictional survey with a single question:
"Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world." 
This topic deserves some attention, mainly since 16 October is Blog Action Day, and this year's topic of Blog Action day is FOOD. As basic as that may sound, food is still a very big problem in many countries, and not only in Africa and Asia. Households are starving even in developed countries with a roughly stable social balance. We could say that families like that have probably brought it on themselves by laziness, reckless spending etc, but I'm sure there are many families who, through a series of mishaps beyond their control, end up starving. 
So, my question is: what can we, (not exactly rich folks, but people in financially acceptable situation) do to make a difference in this direction?
Setting up homeless shelters and such are good ideas,  but that is far beyond our reach and possibilities. We technically can't afford to feed others like that. Some, again would argue, it wouldn't even be fair to us, and in most cases I'd agree with that.
One solution though that occurs to me several times every week is this: we throw away enormous amounts of food. When we buy a fresh loaf of bread, I'm sure most of us throw away the possibly quarter of a loaf left over, even though there's nothing wrong with it, but why eat in when we have a fresh loaf. I often throw away milk, sausages and similar things simply because I know we won't eat it. My parents' and my in-laws' dogs feast on sausages, but sometimes even chicken and pork. Anyone who has ever been at a wedding reception can guess how much food gets chucked out in restaurants. Somehow, it is painful to think that we do that, while others starve daily. So, what I see as a possible solution is this: find a way to direct our extra food (that we would throw away anyway) to those who really need it.
The easiest way to do it is to give it to beggars in the street. Now some may not want it. They'll say they need money. In that case, they probably need money for alcohol or other substances and then, I'm not sure how we could possibly help them. Or, you might be lucky enough to live in a town or in a country without beggars. Even though I find it hard to believe. Donate your extra to shelters or to a neighbour who might need it.
But the most effective way would be an organized system, which allows people to drop off extra food in special centres (which could be placed strategically in such a way that you pass them by as you go to work in the morning, because unfortunately, having to take one extra step will usually deter ordinary people from helping out.) People in need from each town or city could then access these centres to grab a bite. They could be asked to provide proof of their social situation and they should also satisfy some criteria defined by people wiser than me. Those who have no jobs could be asked to do minor community service (such as picking up litter, heaven knows we have plenty of that) or even run these centres themselves.
Obviously, this would be much more complicated to accomplish than it sounds, but I trust there are many smart people out there who would know how to do it. And even smarter people who could find a way to come up with a similar project to direct the tonnes of extra food from developed countries toward famine-stricken areas of the world.
Too naive? Maybe, but  I would really like experts in economy to express their ideas about if and how something remotely similar is possible. Also, brilliant minds might come up with completely different, but possibly much better solutions. But we should get those brilliant minds thinking. Fast.

Jokes and Society: Another form of Art

They say every joke is half true. The more I think of it, the more I have to agree. Maybe even more than half. Not in the exact facts or actions that the jokes describe, but in the underlying realities and often absurd - but existing - truths that they expose.
We channel our dissatisfaction with society into punchlines - 'social' jokes express feelings and thoughts: pain, rebellion, cultural differences, much like poetry or any kind of socially critical literature.
What am I talking about? This is one of my favourite examples:

  A world survey was conducted by the UN. The only question asked was: "Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world." The survey was a huge failure.

• In Africa they didn't know what "food" meant
• In Eastern Europe they didn't know what "honest" meant
• In Western Europe they didn't know what "shortage" meant
• In China they didn't know what "opinion" meant.
•  In the Middle East they didn't know what "solution" meant.
•   In South America they didn't know what "please" meant, and
•   In the USA they didn't know what "the rest of the world" meant. 

(from 1000ventures.com) 

Nobody is trying to suggest that any of those sentences are true, but you kinda have to agree with the grain of truth they carry about the stereotypes of people living in different countries. And if any or all of these stereotypes happen to be wrong, then the grain of truth lies in the fact that somebody
(and the popularity of this joke proves that not only one person) believes them (the stereotypes, that is) to be real. And the fact that stereotypes exist and the forms they take are all part of a social reality, whether or not they are actually correct.
To put it simply, if thousands of people in a country say 'the government sucks', that covers a social reality. Either the reality that the government of that country actually sucks, or the reality that many people think that their government sucks (something causes them to believe so.)
My point is: 'social' jokes are one of the wittiest forms of social criticism and they are worthy of being considered a form of art, because they express public concern, fears, wishes, ideas about different categories of people, regimes, and so on.
To be continued...

D.H. Lawrence versus Danielle Steel

Photo by Willivolt

I spent a few mornings of this summer rearranging the collection of English books at the school where I teach. It is like a mini-library, run by students who study English, who are responsible for lending books to their schoolmates, keeping a record and then having them return the books, safe and sound. What really bothered me was that most of the books were just shoved back randomly on the shelves, and recently it has become very difficult, nearly impossible to find anything. So I decided to take all the books, arrange them in categories, alphabetize them and create a list of what exactly we have there, so that anyone can find whatever they are looking for.
One day as I was working on this, I was telling my colleague who teaches Italian and French that I had selected all the romance and pulp novels and I was going to hide them on two dark, bottom shelves, so that students wouldn't, even accidentally, choose to read those over, say, Dickens or Hemingway or any other similarly established authors.
My colleague, a very experienced language teacher, educated, learned and intelligent man, said "Right, but, you know, sometimes romance novels are more useful for students to read ." I stopped with the bundle of books I had in my hand and blinked at him, looking for a sign that he was joking. He wasn't. Then he explained that romance stories, by the nature of their topic, contain much more of the basic everyday vocabulary and expressions in use today, in everyday life, in situations that today's learners of English (or any language) are most likely to find themselves later on. And that, back when the only French TV show we got here was Hélène et les garçons, he used to encourage his students to watch it. I blinked again, this time only to pretend that I wasn't completely surprised about how I had never realized this before, and I went on arranging the books on the shelves.
Then I kept thinking about it. Right. Nobody will actually be required to speak like this:

His soul leapt up into the gloom, into possession, it reeled, it swooned with a great escape, it quivered in the womb, in the hush and the gloom of fecundity, like seed of procreation in ecstasy. (from The Rainbow by D.H. Lawrence, Chapter VII : The Cathedral)

They will, however, make greater use of vocabulary like:

“Yes I do…no, I don’t.” They had both laughed. It was true. She did and she didn’t. She wanted to be with Alessandro, before she missed it all, before he was suddenly nineteen and she had missed her chance. (from To Love Again by Danielle Steel, Chapter I)

So, do we admit defeat?

The romance and pulp books in our department library are now on a separate shelves from canonical authors. Yes, they are bottom shelves, but not really dark and hidden. Will I be sending my students off to read romance? Umm... I think not. But I might just give away some clues about differences between reading for fun and/or culture and reading as a tool for acquiring vocabulary, fluency of language etc. 

It is a tough choice, really. If only we had all the time in the world; then we could read every book ever written, then it wouldn't matter which one we'd begin with.

When a Song Just Haunts You for Weeks

Nek's song has been crawling through my mind for a long time now, I cannot explain why. I hadn't heard it in ages. When I finally looked it up to listen to it, I found this version. Which sounds great!

I have no idea what's up with this song; if I think about it, it's just one of the millions of love songs out there that I can't even empathise with. But I think I'll just admit defeat and let it carry me away.
Also, I really need to brush up my French and my Italian.

Three Interesting Things I Found in Croatia

Surely, nobody wants to hear about how we had fun in the sun while they were staying at home working. So, I'll just share there small details that I found interesting.

One
The solution to my self-imposed linguistic holiday assignment came to me in the form of a commercial leaflet, promoting ties. Neckties. It said "Welcome to the Homeland of the Cravat!". At first I thought it was a weakness of translation. I knew that in many languages that is the word for tie, but who uses the word cravat in English to refer to ties nowadays? Then I read the rest of the text.
It turns out that the tie actually does originate from Croatia, from late 16th - early 17th century. Hence its name spread in so many languages. They are so proud of this, that in 2008 they even introduced the annual celebration of the Cravat Day on 18 October.
When I realized the story of the word cravat, I was surprised and ashamed that I had not known this before.

Two
Hardly any information is written in any other language but Croatian. I'm talking about names of buildings, titles of exhibits, bus schedules, highway itineraries, directions and so on. This includes places like the Zadar citadel and port, lovely places to visit, names of museums, exhibitions in the citadel and menus in most of the bars and restaurants in an area where about 70% of people are tourists and I'm sure at least half don't know more Croatian than I do (and that's not much more than saying hello and thank you). In most places, they did speak English, however, but it was often easier to get along in German. The great majority of the announcements and writings, though, were only in Croatian.
I'm not sure if this is good or bad, but I do know that I would probably have visited more places if the writing outside had told me what it was in English. Or any other language I understand.

Three 
The Plitvička jezera  (Plitvice Lakes) National Park. I'll just let the pictures speak about this. Credit for the photos goes to my dear husband.

Once Upon a Time There Was a Word

I have recently rediscovered my passion for linguistics. It has a lot to do with my becoming a topic editor at the Language Study topic at Suite101. It feels like riding a bike after having slept for 20 years. Or drinking that specific syrup you were used to as a kid, because it was the only one that existed; then it disappeared and you can only remember it tasted like heaven. (Everyone in/from Romania, remember BemBem?)*
As I was browsing through a fairly big and mostly unsorted mass of articles, some outdated, some beside the point, and some very interesting and informative, I learnt to count to ten in Japanese, picked up some French vocabulary and managed to squeeze in some Spanish grammar. I didn't even try to understand the Arabic lesson.
Wandering in this land of multilingualism was like browsing through a magical phonebook which doesn't only list numbers and addresses, but particularities like "John Smith likes to fish and his wife can never understand that" or "Jane Smith had her first tooth fall out when she was five and next day she met the Tooth Fairy". Except the stories here are not about people, but about words. And words, I must admit, can sometimes be much more interesting than people. Sometimes. But the stories told by words are usually far more interesting than those told by people.
This entire experience inspired me enough to finish my article about words of Hungarian origin that have ended up in English. And, of course, the stories they tell. When I shared this article with my friend from Lithuania, he told me another such story, that I had not known before. Perhaps because I don't know the first thing about Lithuanian language or culture or history. Which is not something to brag about and I should do something about it.
Antanas told me that the Lithuanian name for the German nation is vokietis. This term was born in Medieval times when German crusaders invaded the land. Vo is an interjection like look! or hey!, and kietas means hard/solid/tough  - a reference to the the heavy armour of the knights. Now tell me if that does not make you go Wow! If it doesn't, it means you're a perfectly normal human being, not (yet?) spirited away by languages and words. If it does, you're my kind of wacko!
On a final note, I must mention that I'm leaving for Croatia tomorrow. I wonder how many Croatian words I'll manage to pick up. And how many of those will reveal their story to me. But if I find a story, I'll be sure to share it with you.
*I have no idea if the product from the Bem Bem link is the real thing or not. It may or may not be. I linked it there only in order to remind you of Bem Bem.

Introduction and Explanation of the Title

The name of the blog needs explanation, I feel. Unless I explain it, it might sound like something completely blue-sky, such as Tingling Pink Fluffy Cows or Funny Little Prickly Paradise and Its Blurbs and other titles which are desperately trying to be creative but are completely missing any point they can possibly have.

Nowhere, in the Middle of Everything is a reference to my location, both geographically and socially.

If I consider my position on the planet I can safely say that I'm hidden in an obscure little corner. Yes, a globe can have obscure little corners. Thousands of years of civilization have taught us that much. I mean, from this angle, it appears that the busiest, and therefore, the most important, places on the globe are the Americas and Western Europe. Recently, Asia is starting to pop up more and more. Every other part of the world just exists and lies there to keep the Earth from shifting off its course. Most people living in the 'important' areas probably don't even know where such little countries are. And those who do, will associate the country with tiny elements they remember about it. What do you think of when you hear of Romania? If you're American you're likely to say: Dracula! Western Europeans will say: Ceaușescu! or orphanages! The Turkish will always mention Hagi, maybe Lucescu.* And I have to somehow hide the fact that none of these things or people really define me in any way. First of all, because this is not what Romania is all about, and secondly, because Romania is not really what I am all about. Because I'm not even Romanian. I'll expand on that some other time.
The geo-political fact of is that if you're in Romania, you're nowhere. And still, it is a curious corner of 'nowhere', because this place has got some outstanding features. If only there were somebody to make good use of it, this country could be a tourist's paradise. The combination of mountains, seaside, plains, rivers, lakes and you name it is such that you can find almost anything you're looking for. Also, the location of the country is such that it would normally be an ideal place to spend a night or a day (or a week) when travelling from, say, Western Europe to, say, Asia. If only people weren't afraid to get mugged/robbed/raped/sold or just simply disappointed by conditions here. Here, nowhere. In the middle of everything. Does that make sense?

And then there's me in the world, completely regardless of the country I'm stuck in. I am very young, I have a bachelor's degree (which means absolutely nothing, because everybody has one or several nowadays). I have absolutely nothing to brag about in any field. I am nowhere. And then again, the busy, quickly moving world of international writing and media buzzes under my fingertips as I'm typing this.  My other open windows are Facebook, Twitter and Suite101. Neither of these really exists without any of the others, neither would this blog exist without the people I met and the writing experience I got from all these places. And, I have to flatter myself with the thought, they wouldn't be the same without me either. So here I am, again: nowhere, in the middle of everything.

And I promise my future posts will be shorter. And will make more sense.

*No offense is meant by these presumptions. It is an exaggeration for the sake of example. I am perfectly aware that many people are likely to know more about Romania, or about Dracula for that matter.