Inbox
Spkg lk a n8tiv
by David Hill
English won’t become the global language, largely because it’s being superseded by American.
The nice Japanese staff in the nice Japanese hotel spoke only Japanese. I don’t know what the world’s coming to. I don’t know where it’s coming from, either, but that’s a separate issue.
However, I’d worked out how to achieve a linguistic breakthrough; how to explain that I wanted my suitcase taken by the luggage shuttle to Narita Airport. It’s true that I didn’t know the Japanese words for suitcase or luggage shuttle. Or for airport. But I had a plan as cunning as a ninja.
On the relevant morning, I emerged from the lift with suitcase packed and self pomaded. The young lady at reception bowed to me. I wish they’d make that obligatory in New Zealand.
I smiled sleekly, and segued into my rehearsed explanation.
My suitcase (I pointed to my suitcase) is to go on the luggage shuttle (I mimed lifting my suitcase onto a stack of others. I turned an imaginary steering wheel and to make things completely clear, I went “parp-parp! parp-parp!”) to Narita Airport (I said “Narita”; yes, I’d studied some local terms. I spread my arms aeroplane-style and waggled them up and down. “Brrrmmmm-rroarr!” I gave a rather stunning rendition of a jet engine nearing take-off).
A linguistic breakthrough? More of a linguistic breakdown. The young receptionist backed away, hands up in a defensive gesture. Two heads emerged from the office, wearing startled expressions.
Ninety seconds later, one of those heads escorted a polite Korean gentleman through from the hotel restaurant. “May I help you?” the pKg asked me. “Would you prefer to speak English or German?”
All right, I’m monolingual. Actually, that’s not totally true. I also speak French like a native. A native of Kyrgyztan.
But like so many speakers of English as a First Language (EFL: doesn’t look attractive, does it?), I’m startled to find other nationalities who believe they have a right to use their own language. I’m with Quentin Crisp on this one: I suspect they actually speak English as soon as our backs are turned.
We still lack a truly global language. We have no real lingua franca. It’s probably due to the volatility of the franc.
Esperanto never made it. You wouldn’t expect it to. The very name comes from the Latin sperare, to hope like hell. It wasn’t a confident look.
English isn’t going to be the global language, either, largely because it’s being superseded by American.
If you think they’re the same, I’ll leave you to your 19th century. I’ll just mention a kids’ novel of mine that was translated into US-speak. Lift became elevator, footpath became sidewalk, muesli bar became granola bar. More scarily, gorse became juniper, tui became chickadee and Fiji became Hawaii. And here I was thinking that the aim of language is to make contact.
Okay, we’re lucky. The global language could be Finnish. Now, Finnish is a noble and resonant tongue, with a great literary tradition. But when you’re in a Helsinki restaurant, you don’t ask for blueberry pie, rye bread or potato. You ask for mustikkapiitakka, kalakukko and karjalanpiirakka. Who wants a lingua franca where the KKK would feel orthographically at home?
Other global chat possibilities? I wouldn’t mind sign language, in spite of my effort at the Japanese hotel reception.
I like the idea of sports commentators finding the gestural equivalent of “a big ask” or “can’t pick his googly from his leg-cutter”. Or of political pundits signing “Mr Key rose to a point of order.” And how about a sign language weather forecast indicating that “a fast-moving low will dump some nasty stuff on Auckland”?
I’m aware that some enlightened channels already use genuine signing to complement spoken commentaries. Let’s strike out from there. I leave you to picture what “strike out” would look like.
But I suspect that if there is going to be a truly global dialect, it’ll be TXT. In another couple of decades, I’ll be able to front up to that hotel desk, announce – or key in – “KAYS SHUTL RPRT”, and all will be understood. Or as much of it as was understood that first time, anyway.
In the meantime, I’ve belatedly understood why my suitcase/luggage shuttle/Narita Airport explanation wasn’t understood on that earlier occasion. The wings of Japanese planes don’t waggle up and down.
