NEILS 6 - Day One

Today was the first day of the 6th annual North East Indian Linguistics Society (NEILS) conference taking place this year at Tezpur University just out of the town of Tezpur, Assam. It's a great place for people for linguists and language workers and teachers working in the region to come and meet.

Now, the last time I came for NEILS it was held in Shillong, Meghalaya. It was a bit of a last minute trip and I'd only decided to attend at the last moment (I actually ended up spending half that conference at Cherrapunjee near the Bangladeshi border, hiking down to see the Khasi root bridges made by 'training' ficus trees to grow their roots across rivers. It was a trip I had planned to do anyway, but it just so happened that someone else from the conference was going there at the time.)

So today was my first time presenting at NEILS - I gave a talk on verb nominalisation in Sumi and how monosyllabic, disyllabic and sesquisyllabic verbs behave differently with regards to such nominalisation. I got some pretty good feedback. It's also always nice to present on the first day of a conference. It means you can relax for the rest of the conference and actually focus on what everyone else is talking about. In my case, it also meant having only one sleepless night.

It was quite an invigorating day for me, given that I got through the paper with no major hiccups. Outside the talks, I also had a few meetings with other participants regarding developing minority language educational materials. The sort of work being done is something I found truly inspiring. It just made want to head back to Nagaland and get a team together to do this sort of work now.

Of course there were a few really painful, though quite amusing moments. The first was when the vice-chancellor of the university, who knew nothing about linguistics, gave his ridiculously long welcome speech at the opening ceremony in the morning. All the while trying to sound like he knew what he was on about. He kept referring to 'the linguistics' and I couldn't tell if he meant 'linguistics' as a discipline or if he just got the wrong word for 'linguists'. For some reason he assumed that the majority of participants came from Nagaland, which was odd because there's only one Naga participant here (unless you also count me, as an adopted Naga). Then he went on for a bit about Nagamese and how to his ears it's like Assamese but 'without the Naga influence' (or something like that). There were a few terrible anecdotes he shared, before he mentioned the fact that he had spent 4 years in Germany and learnt that there are German words like tschüss which aren't found in the dictionary because they're 'slang words used by the young people'! (see Wiktionary entry here)

It's moments like these when I'm glad I'm just a nobody at these conferences and not sitting on the stage having to contain myself in front of the whole crowd.

The second incident happened when a presenter was asked how old the language she was working on was.

Given that languages are constantly changing, the question of a language's age seems quite absurd. I was told later that the Indian government takes the 'age' of a language very seriously, as it is one of the criteria used to judge where a language should be considered a 'Modern Indian Language'. Scott DeLancey clarified that what they really mean is 'How long has the language been written / had a written script?' The belief is that a language is only 'born' when it is codified in some written form.

That means that many languages here are still in their infancy, while most are still unborn!

The language holding Malays, Tamils and Chinese together

On the Johnson blog at the Economist, there was a post a few days ago titled, "The language holding Malays, Tamils and Chinese together", on the choice to adopt Standard English (and the author also mentions Mandarin) as the working language of the country.

While I think the article itself doesn't consider the sociolinguistic reality, focusing mainly on the language policy the government had adopted - yes, Standard English has been adopted but if I were to speak 'Standard English' in most situations in Singapore, I'd be considered somewhat of a snob. You know, really tao and all.

What I find ironic is that the people who push for Standard English to be spoken (some of whom have taken to defacing public signs that use 'bad English' - I'll need to find the link to this at some point), as opposed to 'Singlish' are often people whose English I would consider to be substandard. Just look at the first comment on this blog post:

I have no doubt Singaporean has good grasp or command of English, but
its Singlish or Malish (Malaysian) does give a goose bump when speaking loudly in public.

Singlish is a typical pidgin language or bad creolization of many "pasar(market)" loan words from typically Hokkien or Malay. I hope
Singaporean should pick up LKY style of spoken English but not those
of Goh Chok Tong's English.


Discounting the possibility of unintentional typos, the way this person writes reflects a variety of English that I wouldn't consider to be anywhere near 'LKY's style of spoken English'. To expect other 'Singaporean' to pick up LKY style of spoken English is just plain hypocrisy.

And of course, it's simply absurd to suggest that people follow a particular PM / SM / MM's style of speaking. It's usually politicians and royalty who end up adjusting their speech to match that of their supporters / followers, not the other way round.

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.)

Visiting villages

Between Assamese lessons, preparing my presentation for this coming week's North-east Linguistics Society (NEILS) conference, and being sick, I haven't had much time to blog this week.

One thing I did manage to do was submit a grant application to the World Oral Literature Project (WOLP) for the documentation project Ab. and I are doing. We started fundraising in Zunheboto in early December, and just after Christmas, we got to go visit a few villages in the district to record some traditional songs associated with the agricultural year (I've saved the details for the grant application).

We got to see a few activities associated with shifting cultivation (known as jhum cultivation here) like the clearing of the jungle and the breaking up of the soil, as well as the relevant songs. The villages we visited were Shoipu, Nunumi and Usütomi. While all the songs were performed for our benefit, some could be considered more 'authentic' than others - where the villagers actually performed the songs while engaging in the actual agricultural activity. But I think to most people present, the performances were all pretty authentic.

The male villagers at Shoipu are performing the song associated with breaking up the soil and digging up the roots. The women followed behind using large sticks to break up the lumps in the soil.


Two women at Shoipu that Ab. interviewed after the performance


The field close to Usütomi village. I hadn't counted on the wind being so strong here, so the audio recordings have a fair amount of wind noise.


Me with some of the women from Usütomi. They were a little annoyed that their menfolk left before them. Traditionally, women are supposed to lead the way back to the village.

Here's to visiting more villages in the future. I don't know how much I'll be inclined to blog about, given that copyright becomes more of an issue with these documentation projects. I'm pretty sure members of the community won't mind, especially those who read this blog from time to time.

But I suppose I could just start a different blog with Ab. to document the whole documentation process...

Ringgit

Months ago I commented on how BBC reporters refer to the Chinese currency, the yuan /juɛn/ 元, as the /juan/ 'you-ahn', rhyming with 'one'. And this is despite the fact that they employ people trained in phonetics to research these things. The trend might be due to the fact that other people have started calling it the 'you-ahn', but it's not like a historic standard like saying 'Paris' with the final 's'. So what's the point then of hiring people to check these things anymore?

Today, I just saw another report on the BBC about inflation in Malaysia. The reporter pronounced the name of the national currency, the ringgit, as the /rɪŋɪt/ 'ring-it', without the voiced velar stop /g/. For people who are familiar with Malay and Indonesian, if the word was meant to be pronounced that way, it would be written 'ringit'. The velar nasal is written using the digraph 'ng', while the following velar stop is written with an additional 'g'. So, the currency really is the /rɪŋgɪt/ 'ring-git'.

I don't mind if news programmes completely anglicise the pronunciation of foreign names and currencies, but the BBC hires people to verify how to pronounce these names as close as possible to the source language.

Australia Day vs Republic Day (India)

26 January is Australia Day (to some, 'Invasion Day'), which commemorates the arrival of the First Fleet at Sydney Cove in 1788. 26 January in India is Republic Day (a different kind of 'Invasion Day' to some), which commemorates the coming into effect of the Constitution of India in 1950.

I was half-jokingly saying online that in Australia, people have barbecues and may go see the fireworks. In India (or at least this part of India), people stay indoors and pray nothing gets blown up.

The threat of attacks by various underground organisations in the NE is pretty high around important 'Indian' holidays like Republic Day and Independence Day. Such organisations often call for bandhs 'strikes' around these period, and if you're caught opening your shop or driving a vehicle that is not on hospital duty in some areas, your property will be torched and you may get beaten or worse, killed. People generally don't travel around these holidays and for good reason. Security around bazaars and railway stations goes up - my friend and I were stopped in an auto the other day and questioned about our 'purpose' for passing through the bazaar area.

Over here, Republic Day really is a symbol of Indian colonialism and oppression in the region. I suppose to put it in Australian terms, imagine if the Northern Territory wanted to secede from Australia (I could have used WA, but some people there really do want to secede and I want to keep this hypothetical). The reasons for succession would include: exploitation by a government that takes away resources (like oil and natural gas) without doing enough to support local development; having to deal with waves of illegal migrants coming from a neighbouring Muslim nation (like Indonesia) which isn't a priority for the central government in far-away Canberra; and a distinct Terroritorian cultural identity from the rest of Australia.

Canberra on the other hand refuses to part with the NT for strategic reasons and because it would mean giving up natural resources. With the failure of secession talks, and decades of brutal abuse by the Australian military sent to the region, some groups believe that the only way they can make the Australian government listen to them is through acts of terrorism.

Then imagine that various indigenous Australian groups or 'nations', like the Yolngu, in the Northern Territory felt like their cultural identities were being oppressed by white Territorians. They believe that the only way they can maintain a sense of sovereignty is by fighting their 'white' colonisers, including both the Territorians and other Australians. Arnhem Land in particular is a hotbed of 'terrorist' activity, with weapons and drugs flowing in from neighbouring Indonesia, and people going across the straits to train in guerrilla warfare. Of course, the various groups don't all get along, and occasionally violence flares up between each group. Within each group, fundamental differences in opinion (or men simply wanting to secure more power) may cause splinter factions to form and more infighting to occur.

Now imagine that every 26th of January, Australia Day / 'Invasion Day' comes round. And it feels like a kick in the groin for all the various organisations and factions in the region, especially seeing the other states celebrating with their fireworks and their barbecues.

Hmm. Almost doesn't sound as hypothetical as I wanted it to.


Anyway, I've just been lying in bed all day sick with a cold. Not that I really want to go outside today. Here's a short summary of some attacks just from this week:

22/23 Jan 2011 - I can't seem to find a link for this, but I saw it in a paper on Monday. There was a bomb targetting the Arunachal Express which exploded just before the train passed the area where it was planted. This, and other announcements by rebel groups, then led to the cancellation of all night passenger trains in Assam from 24 Jan to 28 Jan, with night trains going from Guwahati to Lumding (on the way to Dimapur) cancelled till 30 Jan. I discovered these cancellations firsthand when my friend was trying to get a ticket back to Dimapur for the 25th.

24 Jan 2011 - A bus travelling from Guwahati to Manipur via Dimapur was attacked in Karbi Anglong district at 5.15am. 3 people were injured, including a 12 year old girl (another report says it was a boy). The attackers have been identified as being from the Karbi Liberation People's Tiger (KLPT). A goods train also derailed in Lower Haflong - this report says bandh supporters might have removed part of the track, but other reports say it was a bomb blast that caused the train to derail.

26 Jan 2011 - The Indian Telegraph reports that the All Assam Students Union (AASU) bandh turned violent in Sivasagar district with several vehicles being damaged and staff 'manhandled'. The link to the article doesn't seem to work though. I'm sure I'll here more news over the next 24 hours.

Booking a hotel in India

I've had a rather mixed bag when booking hotels / guest houses in India.

My first time in Kolkata in 2009, I'd booked a room at a guest house via email but arrived to find it had been given away (I had been afraid of that, given that my flight was arriving in the evening but I'd given them my flight details). When I was in Delhi a few months ago, I contacted a hotel via email and was given the option of a 'standard' or 'deluxe' room, but did not hear from them when I told them I wanted the 'standard' room. They only replied when I wrote back saying I would 'take a look' at the deluxe room and see if I wanted it. Of course, when I arrived at the hotel, I found I only had the option of the deluxe room.

Yesterday (Friday) I was trying to book a hotel room in Guwahati for me and some visiting friends from Nagaland for Saturday and Sunday night or Sunday and Monday night, depending on when my friends were coming. I visited one hotel to ask about vacancies and they said they were fully booked for Saturday, but Sunday was fine. When I rang later to book for Sunday, there were suddenly no more vacancies (something about a wedding party booking the whole place). But when I dropped by in person this morning, there was once again a room available for Sunday.

Slightly more puzzling was this conversation I had when I rang another hotel:

Me: Do you have a vacancy on Sunday night?
Guy on phone: No sir, fully booked.
Me: Are you sure you are fully booked?
Him: Yes sir.
Me: Okay, I'm actually in Guwahati already. I have some friends coming on either Saturday or Sunday and need a room for two nights.
Him: We have vacancy for tomorrow (Saturday). I think it is better if you come tomorrow.
Me: Yes, but I need the room for two nights.
Him: Okay sir, you can have the room for two nights.

I considered it wise not to point out the obvious discrepancy between his initial response and his latest one. Later I called to push the reservation back one night, with no problems.

It's not the first time I've been first told by a hotel on the phone that they are fully booked, before later finding out - either by going in person, or in the same phone conversation - that a room is in fact available. Why on earth do hotels here feel the need to do this? It's almost as if they don't want full occupancy.