Showing posts with label french. Show all posts
Showing posts with label french. Show all posts

Saturday, May 4, 2013

What a 'hotel' can mean in India

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the English word hotel was first recorded in the 1640s and denoted a 'public official residence'. The modern sense of the word as 'an inn of the better sort' (i.e. 'a place offering lodging, food and other services to travellers') was first recorded in 1765. The word comes from the French hôtel, which itself is derived from the Medieval Latin hospitale via Old French hostel.

In French, hôtel was used to refer mainly to public official buildings that frequently received visitors, but this has been largely replaced by the meaning of 'place offering lodging and food to travellers', as used in contemporary English. However, you can still see traces of this old usage in words like hôtel de ville 'town hall' and hôtel des impôts 'tax office' and hôtel de police 'police headquarters'.

In India, the term hotel has taken on a slightly different meaning (and pronunciation, with stress on the first syllable, not the second.) Visitors to India are likely to find that big modern buildings offering lodging are called 'hotels', but they might be slightly shocked to see signs for hotels that do not provide lodging at all.

Take for instance this hotel located right next to the Dimapur Railway Station. As you can see, the hotel only offers 'fooding', a very common term in Indian English meaning 'the provision of food' - this can include the catering at an event or simply selling food at a restaurant.

Next to Dimapur Railway Station

I'm not entirely certain how the term 'hotel' has come to be used to refer to (what I would call) a 'restaurant', where only food and no lodging is provided. I doubt that this use derives from the original French meaning of a public building that frequently receives visitors. Incidentally, there are also hotels in India that advertise 'only lodging' with no 'fooding'.

My guess is that the term did originally designate a place frequented by travellers and provided both food and lodging - I imagine that travellers were the most likely people to frequent places offering food since most people would have taken their meals at home or packed their own food. Over time, some establishments may have stopped providing one service or the other for whatever reason (e.g. greater profits from selling food), but the label 'hotel' remained. Consequently, the term 'hotel' no longer denoted a place of lodging, but simply a place frequented by travellers. Someone else starting a restaurant near a train station or along a highway may then choose to call their business a 'hotel', even though they have no intention of providing lodging, as long as their expected clientele are likely to be travellers stopping in for a meal.

Whatever the history of the word may be, don't be shocked if you rock up to a hotel in India and can't get a room - some of them simply don't have any for guests!

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Plans, programmes and projects

Generally, if I wanted to know what someone else was up to at a later point in time, I'd probably ask them, "Do you have any plans for today / tomorrow / later?" or "What're your plans for today / tomorrow / later?"

Except when I'm in India. Here, it was far more common for people to ask, "What is your programme for today / tomorrow?" Consequently, it's what I've come to ask people too.

The first time I heard the word 'programme' used in this context, it sounded as if my life was some sort of show with carefully scheduled performances throughout the day. Ironic of course, given that in my experience of India, nothing has ever run according to schedule - I was once booked to catch a train that turned out to 13 hours late. As a friend pointed out, "Back home, we'd called that train 'cancelled'.

However, the words 'programme' and 'plans' are not always interchangeable. For instance, today my host here in Dimapur was explaining to his sister-in-law that we were running late because "we had a programme at 3.30". In that particular context, I would've said "something came up at 3.30".

On a related note, hearing the word 'programme' used in this context reminded me of when I was on exchange in Lyon. One of the French professors said during orientation that in French, you didn't ask someone "Avez-vous des plans?" but "Avez-vous des projets?" if you meant 'Do you have any plans?", the French word projet being a cognate of English project. (This I believe is for a more formal register of French.) In any case, I wonder if French learners of English often mistakenly ask people if they have any "projects" on for the day...

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

I come from a land down under

One of the first things I learn to say in a foreign language is how to say, "I'm from..." or "I come from...", mainly because one of the first things people ask me is where I'm from. It's also a reasonable useful phrase for any language learner.

However, I find the phrase tricky to learn for 2 reasons. The first one is probably more specific to the geographically displaced person that I am. I usually say "I come from Singapore but live in Australia", even if my friends in Nepal and India will typically introduce me as their friend from Australia. It just seems less troublesome when I'm travelling in Asia and Europe, especially since I don't look like what many people expect an Australian to look like i.e. white, nor do I sound particularly Australian (although I did meet an American lady who insisted I had an Australian accent, which I found rather puzzling).

But discounting any potential geographic confusion of one's origins, the phrase is potentially problematic if you're asking for a literal translation in another language. I've found a few times that when I ask people how to say "I come from...", they often give me a sentence that is better translated as 'I am coming from...' or 'I have come from...', which tells the hearer the last place I visited, as opposed to my country / land of origin.

I suspect it's translating the verb 'come' that throws my tutors off - they're trying to convey the meaning of motion, when the English doesn't actually convey this.

Using the verb venir 'to come' works fine in French, although it's possible to just use the verb 'to be' and a preposition:
Je viens de Singapour 'I come from Singapore.'
Je suis de Singapour. 'I am from Singapore.'

But in Russian, what I'd say is:
Я из Сингапура ya iz Singapur-a 'I am from Singapore.' (lit. 'I from Singapore' with a preposition and no verb meaning 'to be')
I can't even think of a verb corresponding to 'come' that would be appropriate here. If I did use one here, I'd feel like I was talking about recently arriving from Singapore.

Similarly, in (Lower) Assamese I was first taught:
[would love to put the Assamese text here at some point]
Moy Singapur-pora ahisu.
(forgive the transliteration, this was based on my own transcriptions, and I have a LOT of trouble with the back vowels)

And in Sumi:
Niye Singapur lono ighi va.

However, both literally mean, 'I have come from Singapore.' (or to match the word order, 'I Singapore from have come'). The form of the verb 'to come' ahisu in (Lower) Assamese and the use of va with the verb ighi 'to come' in Sumi are used in sentences that one would typically translate as being in the perfect aspect in English. I suspect that both sentences suggest that I have recently arrived from Singapore, which is not the intended meaning.

Rather, in order to convey the meaning of origin, it might be necessary in languages to say something like 'I am Singaporean.' In Chinese, I would probably say:
我是新加坡人。
wo shi xinjiapo ren
(where 人 ren means 'person'.)

In Sumi, the equivalent of this would be:
Niye Singapur-mi.
with the suffix -mi meaning 'person' and no verb meaning 'to be'.

Alternatively, what I've learn to say in Nepali, is:
मेरो देश सिंगापुर हो, तर म ऑस्ट्रेलियामा बास्छु।
mero des Singaapur ho, tara ma Australiya-maa baaschhu
which literally means 'My country (des) is Singapore, but I live in Australia.'

Similarly, in Assamese, I can say:
mor dex Singapore, kintu moi bortoman Australiat thaku
'My country is Singapore, but nowadays I live in Australia.'

Of course, this often assumes that your country of origin is the same as your current nationality, which is not always the case. However, things are never that simple - some people I know who read this blog certainly have more complicated geographical origins!

I'd therefore be interested to hear of other ways to introduce where you come from in these and other languages. I'd also be interested to know why people choose to introduce themselves in this particular way.

Eventually, I suppose I will start introducing myself as being 'Australian'. Although I'm more likely to give a nod to Bruce Woodley and Dobe Newton and say, "I am Australian", instead of "I come from a land down under."

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Translation pls

This post is actually about code switching on one's Facebook wall and negotiating this particularly virtual space.
[EDIT: I've made a few changes to the original because it sounded a lot more aggressive than I intended it to be.]

Earlier this week, I'd posted this on an Australian friend's Facebook wall:

Quoi de neuf? What's this about living semi-permanently in XXXX?

This was in response to something I'd read about him moving back to XXXX. I used the French for 'What's new?' at the start because he's living in France and I knew that he had been learning French. I didn't want to write the whole post in French because I wasn't sure of his current level.

However, his reply was about 4 lines long, completely in French. It was actually a piece of bad news, but I assume he felt comfortable enough to put it on his wall, even if most of his friends don't speak French. His switching from English to French made me feel like he was privileging me with the response / information. Of course I didn't know how much his other friends already knew and thought that maybe he'd already mentioned something before and didn't want to repeat himself in English.

So following his lead, I continued the conversation in French with a comment expressing my condolences.

Within the hour, another friend had commented:

Translation pls?

A few hours later, there was another:

English, please. ;-)

Now, if comments like these appeared on my own wall I would be really annoyed for two main reasons. One, I perceive the wall on my Facebook profile as belonging to me - I mean, it's 'my' wall. I own it. (And Mark Zuckerberg owns me, but that's a different story.)  Sure, it's designed for public viewing, but I still perceive it as a space in which someone should be allowed to express thoughts / vent frustrations / share news in whatever language they choose and without having to explain themselves. It's fine for people to post on other people's walls, but they still have to be mindful that they are in someone else's 'personal space'.

For instance, I once posted a link to an article about the 2009 Xinjiang riots involving Hans and Uyghurs. A 'friend' on my Facebook (who I don't know very well and who also happens to be one of the annoying commenters above) replied to my post with a comment that I thought was somewhat racist and potentially insulting to my Uyghur friends, so I deleted it. Offended, this 'friend' accused me of denying him his freedom of speech. I said, sure he could say anything he liked, but just not on my wall. I then proceeded to block him.

Two, if someone posts in a particular language, I assume it's because they have a particular target audience in mind (also assuming they're not being a show-off douche). When one of my friends who lived in Japan for a bit posts in Japanese, I know it's intended for his fellow Japanese-speaking friends - the shared linguistic code serves as an in-group marker demarcating a group of friends within his larger network of friends. Some people might consider it rude to everyone else on the friends list, but I liken it to when people post quotes from a TV show, knowing that the only people who will get the joke are fellow viewers of that show. It therefore strikes me as somewhat rude when other people demand a translation for posts in a language other than English, like it's their right to understand everything that's on the wall. Admittedly there are times when people, including myself, make posts that sound a little cryptic in order to fish for questions or comments, but the idea is, if someone posts is in a language that I don't speak, I just ignore it, because it probably wasn't meant for me anyway!

I don't know how my friend felt about those requests / demands for English translations, but I can't imagine he would have wanted to repeat what he'd just said. His lack of a response to their comments seems to confirm my own suspicions that he didn't want to repeat himself.

In any case, here's a simple solution to people who still think it's rude that people post in languages they don't understand:

Just learn the language.

Or just learn to use Google Translate.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Some people want to be teachers

I remember a small incident from the year I spent on exchange in France. I was in Lourdes for a few days and I recall I was looking for a cemetery as I was coming down from the fort. I found a lady at the tourist counter and asked her "Excusez-moi madame, mais où est-ce que la cimetière?" ('Excuse me madame, where is 'la' cemetery?)

Her reply was "Non non monsieur, c'est "le" cimetière." ('No sir, it's 'le' cemetery.')

Now I had mistaken the noun cimetière as being feminine (like a number of other nouns ending in -ière) that needs the article la, when in actual fact it is a masculine noun. Of course, at the time I was tired, hungry and really not in the mood for a French lesson, but it's something that has stuck with me since, and I haven't forgotten the gender of the noun cimetière. It wasn't the first time I had been corrected by a complete stranger in France, and it's something I've actually come to appreciate.


But there are ways to teach and there are ways to teach. Fast forward to this week, here in the Guwahati University guest house. A few days ago I met a visiting Assamese writer from the nearby town of Tezpur (where I'm heading tomorrow). The instant he found out I was learning Assamese, he started telling others at the guest house that the only reason I came to Assam was to learn Assamese, which just isn't true. Making conversation has also been difficult with him - he's quite pretentious and is certainly very proud of himself and where he comes from. To him, Assam is the most beautiful state in India, and Tezpur is the most beautiful town in Assam.

But what really got to me was when he started talking to me about a certain kind of banana that they gave us at breakfast yesterday. It's a local variety that they've been feeding the guests here (or trying to feed) that's quite starchy and has the texture closer to a plaintain. It's not very sweet either and feels like it needs to be cooked first. Suffice to say, I really don't like it. The Assamese writer started telling me it was very good Assamese banana and very good for digestion.

I refused to comment.

Then he said to me, 'In Assamese, they are called malbhog. Malbhog. Say it.'

The first thought in my head was actually, "F*ck you, you pretentious wanker". I mean, who the hell did this guy think he was? But in the end I mumbled something with my mouth full, which made him repeat what he'd just said.

So rather than continuing the conversation, I just took a small bite out of my malbhog and left the rest on my plate for him to see.

(And in case you're wondering, I didn't actually remember the name of the banana after this conversation. I had to ask my tutor for the name again.)