akrish

Everyone speaks hebrew as their primary language here in Israel, and in interacting with people, I’ve noticed a couple of interesting things about languages. Almost everyone CAN speak english, but it isn’t their natural language (it’s kind of like how after only 6 years of studying spanish I CAN speak spanish, but in speaking spanish with spanish people I’ve met here, I’m not very effective at communicating in the language). I don’t have a hard to getting things done here because most people do speak English pretty well, and if they don’t, then there are always people around that can translate. However, in an environment where very few people naturally speak english, it is much harder to connect with people.

Given that I do spend some time in difficult interactions, I’ve been thinking a lot about languages in a variety of lights. Politically, languages can be a uniting factor (like it is in Israel), or conversely in can hinder unification attempts (like in India). Socially, speaking a different language from everyone else does have negative consequences on your relationships and interactions. And lastly, technically, the language that you think or operate in may close your mind to new ideas.

Language as a political tool
When you think about it, Israel is not incredibly different from India. Yeah, India is a much bigger country geographically and population-wise, but both were under British rule until the mid-20th century, both gained their independence around that time, and both are now relatively modern democratic nations (Israel more so and probably India less so). Further, Hinduism and Judaism are two of the oldest religions and both countries have rich ancient histories. Ok, so there are a lot of differences, but one I found interesting is about language, and how it affects the political environment.

There are tons of languages in India and although Hindi is the official language, unification did not come easy. Now, my view is that most kids in India, while knowing Hindi and their native language, are also very good (almost proficient) at English. I haven’t been to India in years so I could easily be wrong, but a lot of Indians come to the US and speak well enough for me to think this. I found some sources that counter this claim, but my friend Vivek, who lived in India for a couple of years recently supports me (but he went to an international school so…). And of course all of my Indian-American friends pretty much “know” just one language, and if they aren’t from an historically Hindi speaking area, it usually isn’t Hindi.

In contrast, in Israel, EVERYTHING is done in Hebrew (Ok that’s not entirely true, a lot of people speak Arabic and you do see street signs in Arabic). Since Israel was founded as a Jewish nation, there weren’t any real problems with making Hebrew the official language (except for the Arabs that were living here). All of the Arabs that I’ve met speak Hebrew fluently now, so here, everyone who calls themselves Israeli is fluent in Hebrew.

In Israel, practically everyone operates in Hebrew, and as a result, there’s more of a national sense of pride here. In India, I feel like this pride is lacking and the diversity in languages seems to correlated. The fact that it is much harder to settle on a national language in India is evidence that India is really diverse, and this diversity leads to less national pride. In Israel, not only does everyone speak Hebrew, but they are the only country where people speak Hebrew. If I were Israeli, hearing someone speak Hebrew would give us an immediate connection, just because we are both Isreali. One of my lab-mates was traveling in Europe with his family and another Israeli group overheard them speaking in Hebrew and the two groups started talking, simply because they shared this language. When he told me the story, he used the words “sense of national pride,” hopefully supporting my point.

Aside: While I’m here, I do the same thing with people speaking English. If I hear some one speaking English with an American accent, it’s an immediate connection.

So it’s pretty obvious that language is an indicator of how diverse a country is, but I never really thought that it could contribute to national pride.

Language as a Social Barrier
So even though I don’t speak Hebrew, I can communicate well enough to get things done here. However, I’ve noticed that I do miss out on a lot of things. As an example, I play Ultimate here and everyone that plays speaks English really well (In fact, many of the players spent considerable time in the US), but they naturally speak in Hebrew. So one time, there was a foul call that lead to an argument (as it is guaranteed to do in Ultimate), but this time the argument took place in Hebrew. I didn’t see what happened during the foul, but I couldn’t even figure it out by listening in. I could only decipher what happened by listening for tone and interpreting body language, from which I only learned a bit about the incident. After the uproar had died down, I asked what happened and was given a good explanation, but in the heat of the moment I could not participate.

Also, I went to a party this weekend and I found it really hard to interact with people. Of course everyone spoke English pretty well, but over the din of the music and in that kind of a setting, most of the people I talked to seemed reluctant to talk to me. Basically, people don’t want to have to think really hard to speak to someone at a party, so conversations are short and I didn’t really meet that many people. The party was still fun, but I definitely felt that I was at a social disadvantage by not speaking Hebrew.

In both of these situations, I felt left out of an experience because I don’t speak the native language here. Of course, if two people don’t speak the same language at all they are unable to connect, but here it’s hard (though not impossible) to connect with people even if they are quite familiar with English. You can have a conversation and build relationships, but it’s hard to share a lot of experiences without a common primary language.

Language as a mental prison
Ok that heading sounds a lot worse that what I’m going to get at. For my first week here, my parents and I sublet an apartment from this guy in Tel Aviv. When we met him, he was really nice and helpful, and in talking to him, I noticed that he used the participle verb form a lot, and in places that I (or other english speakers) would not use it. For example, he said something like: “When I am taking my bike to go somewhere, I usually am not leaving it for long, because bikes get stolen here.” A native English speaker would probably have said: “When I take my bike to go somewhere, I usually do not leave it for long …”, instead of using the participle form.

I noticed him say it a couple times and I’ve noticed a lot of Israeli’s use the participle in unconventional ways since then. A couple of days ago, I asked a friend about it and she said that it’s because in Hebrew they don’t have a participle form, they just have present, past and future. So, when people think in Hebrew but speak in English, it’s hard for them to figure out when to use the vanilla present tense and when to use the participle, resulting in unconventional uses.

So, I started thinking about how language affects how you think, and here’s where the article takes a technical turn. I think in English, so I’m sure my mind is constrained in certain ways that would not exist if I thought in a different language. Obviously, since I don’t think in another language I don’t know how that would be, right? And similarly, people who think in Hebrew are constrained in different ways that I am, like in how they are not sure about participles.

I think this is true for programming languages too. Over the past year, I’ve spent a lot of time programming in Java and Python, and as Java was my first language, it took me awhile to start using some of the more dynamic features in Python. For example, I don’t immediately see uses for dynamically adding a method to a class, and I think that’s largely because I think in a statically typed language. And recently I build a compiler in C++, and when I write in C++, I don’t think to use features like multiple inheritance, because I’m not used to them existing. Basically, the language that you think in tends to restrict how you use other languages, and it may result in you using a paradigm that works well in one language but that is horrible in another.

I’ve been reading a lot about functional programming and have spent a bit (not a lot) of time with Haskell. Everyone says Haskell is “hard” to learn if you’re used to imperative programming languages because you have to change how you think about programming. From this perspective, I completely buy that. It’s hard to get myself to think purely functionally because I’m used to methods having side effects and all of the stuff that isn’t “purely functional.” Since my first programming languages were all imperative, I’m constrained to think in a certain way, and it’s harder for me to think in a different way.

Of course you can get break those constraints, but it takes a lot of hard work in a new environment. With programming languages, I’m sure that if I spend a lot of time with Haskell, I’ll be able to think in the functional way. From observation it seems that the same is true for spoken languages. Of the Israeli’s that I’ve met, the ones that have lived in the states speak english like natives.

And so…
After spending tim here, I’ve begun to understand how important language is from a variety of perspectives. I find it quite interesting and it makes me a lot more excited to finish reading “The Languge Instinct” by Steven Pinker (but I’ve been “reading” it for like a year so we’ll see if that actually happens). I’m starting to think that traveling is really cool because you get to observe these kinds of things only when you dive into a new environment.

This article by George Orwell is really interesting and pretty funny.

Orwell talks about how the english language has been polluted through evolution, and how writers tend to be verbose and ambiguous rather than trying to get their point across. He cites a lot of examples which I’ve seen and heard frequently in writing, speeches, and even common language, showing that even though the article is like 50 years old, it’s still very relevant.

One of the funniest parts is when he translates a line from Ecclesiastes into modern English.

Here is a well-known verse from Ecclesiastes:

I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.

Here it is in modern English:

Objective consideration of contemporary phenomena compels the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account.

Seriously… look at that second sentence. First of all it’s really hard to read quickly. Secondly, it doesn’t really say anything. And thirdly, the first sentence provides wonderful imagery while the second sentence is completely abstract. And I’m not kidding, I’ve seen a lot of writing like that (and I’ve even written like that a lot).

One of the problems is that society encourages us to write like that (at least to some extent). I remember that college applications like to see that you have a strong vocabulary, so we include “big” words into our essays when smaller words suffice or are better. Same with the writing I’ve done in college, people don’t seem to argue with you’re writing if it looks like you know what you’re talking about and to do that, you use this cryptic constructs and ambiguous vocabulary.

Orwell continues to talk about politics, and how political writing (including speeches) is complete garbage in terms of language. Since politics is so much about pleasing your audience, phrases that present catastrophes in a “not-so-bad” light are often used. As an example, Orwell writes, “Defenceless villages are bombarded from the air, the inhabitants driven out into the countryside, the cattle machine-gunned, the huts set on fire with incendiary bullets: this is called pacification.” And with the Iraq war, how often have events that would surely be met with public disapproval been covered up with vagaries and euphemisms?

And I hear it a lot in campaign rhetoric, that I don’t even follow that much. Plans and promises on both sides are kept intentionally vague for obvious reasons, but this usage of language promotes itself as politicians are seen as role models. I don’t really know too much about politics so please correct me if I’m wrong. I prefer to stick to my programs, where language is rigid and being ambiguous means being incorrect.

Orwell then suggests how we can work to fix this language, if you’re interested I recommend the read. It’s pretty fascinating.