Words are amazing.
They help us to think. To express. To share. But they do often fall short.
In learning other languages, we take what we know (that is our native tongues) and apply them to other languages. But our translations are never complete; they can never provide perfect replications.
The most obvious example of this is seem in sound differences, hence the beauty of accents. Think of any non-native English speaker. They all, invariably, will pronounce certain sounds strangely. What they have done is taken a sound from their language and applied to an English situation where the same sound does not exist. Spanish speakers mix the “b” and “v” sounds. Japanese will confuse the “l” and “r”. And basically no one can say the “th” sound. …man, I’d hate to be a “Jonathan” that is universally mispronounced. 
Another difference is in connotations. All words have definitions and direct meanings (denotations), but they also evoke feelings (connotations). Curse words quickly come to mind. “Bugger” and “bloody” hardly evoke a negative feeling for most Americans, but they are some of the worst words in other English speaking countries. Or if I called you a “turtle egg” or a “dog fart,” you are more likely to laugh than be offended. (Those are bad words in Chinese.) Another fascinating example I found was the differing connotations of “democracy.” In the US, it evokes a sense security, comfort, and perhaps even pride. However, when I mentioned “democracy” to my Chinese friends (in China), their response was filled with fear, insecurity, and discomfort. And I realized their feeling is the same as ours to “communism.” It is interesting that we can have such strong emotions attached to abstract words, which when we are completely honest with ourselves, we often don’t completely understand.
Lastly, when you learn another language, you are able to express things that literally cannot be translated – words with no functional equivalent in your native language. And then when you go back to your home country, you are left speechless in those perfect times where only certain foreign words can fit.
So the word I miss right now is 不用谢. It literally means “no use thanks,” which is typically translated “you’re welcome” or “no problem.” But there are times, perhaps most times, where we shouldn’t use the word “thanks.” To express thanks assumes that the person has freely chosen to do such and such. There is no sense of obligation. And in the land of the free, every good deed deserves proper appreciation. We had a hard time being helped and served (almost daily) while we lived in China, and we always felt the insatiable need to express our gratitude. Our friends would jokingly say “no thank you” to express this desire of not always saying thanks – something our English language lacked. We learned that friends should expect a lot from one another, and we tried to adjust to these higher expectations (which was sometimes tough). We also learned though that sometimes the most beautiful “thank you” is shown and not said. Words regularly fall short of their designed purpose. Language may be deficient in certain expressions, but we may also say things that we do not mean.
Help us to use words to their fullest, but also to learn the beauty of silence. Amen.
June 8, 2011 at 7:24 pm |
Hi, Nathan. I made it here.
Having spent so much time in abstract linguistic philosophical thought, I myself have always found it very comforting that our of Jesus’s names was the Word. As someone who often feels misunderstood when I try to communicate, it helps to remember that Jesus spent most of his time eating and tavelling with his friends. And that when he did try to communicate, he usually didn’t even try to say what he meant. The message was often wrapped in a parable. He was always inviting people to recognize a need to try to sift through confusion. We get n trouble when we think we have been so clever and so clear.
January 11, 2012 at 4:18 pm |