On polyglossy

Observing society and in general nature is impossible to find too many similars even in the most homogeneous population. Despite all attempts of standardization --mostly on behalf of national enterprises, ranging from romantic to maniac, and even in times of globalization and massive media-- making of human communities a single one has proved to be impossible. Still I think these projects have had certain sucess in certain domains of human life, and some of them have underwent a horrible process of destruction: for example, the realm of language diversity. Such as nature itself, many languages have not only been marginalizated to tiny geographical regions, but also completeley --and forever-- extincted. Some of them are lucky enough to have survived in dusted grammars and dictionaries that only the very curious specialized scholars know. Whilst the Biblical myth of Babel implies a sacred condemation of polyglossy, being multilingual is closer to human nature and to the nature of human societies than monolingualism. Yet patriotism has lead us astray in making us believe that having one language is more normal.

In some parts of the world, for example in some European regions and in Latinamerica, this seems to have succeded to a certain extent (at this point I have to mention there are serious initiatives to reverse the situation, though). In France, Bretonese --a very old Celtic language-- has practically dissappeared, such as Provenzal. 60 of the 163 indigenous languages spoken in Mexico are in serious danger of extinction, such as Triqui, spoken only by 2,802 individuals --this is less than nothing in a country populated by ca. 120 Million people-- in the state of Baja California. Altough some efforts to resucitate these languages and promote their writing and learning have been made, they are still stigmatized by the Mexican middle and upper classses.

This matter has probably something to do with the idea of building nations and national identities on the basis of a single language, as Hobsbawn observes in Nations and nationalism (1992). With a few exceptions --such as the Austrian Hungarian Empire--, monolingualism (hidden in the idea of a "national language") was the obsession of patriots from the 19th to the 20th century who not only defended the idea of a common tongue, but also privileged a single version of the same language: this is how Spanish succeded to become the language of the majority in Mexico (even though in 1820 barely a third of the population spoke it), whilst standard German almost depleted old German dialects in a matter of only 150 years. I don't really think there are so many speakers left of, for example, the dialect of Cologne  and not so long ago I heard a linguist from the University of Cologne say that  actually no kölsch was spoken anymore, but only a verkölschstes Deutsch.

Before language became a matter of politics, it was common for people to be bilingual or even polyglot. There would be common languages - Latin, Arabic or Greek -- which would allow communication at certain levels, but if you think of the Roman German Empire, which comprised the current territories of Italy, Switzerland and Germany, people must have had a way to understand each other when they travelled and married among themselves. Yes, not everybody travelled in the Middle Ages but still --and facing the coming of Renaissance-- a certain degree of polyglossy was certainly required at least for merchants, militars, artists, clergymen and scholars. The same applies to Central Asia in the same period, where Slavic, Arabic, Turkish, Semitic and Chinese languages collide: I ask myself what language or languages spoke or could understand Genghis Khan and his men and women, who moved across Central Asia to Russia and then to Europe several times. When Atila met the Pope at the doors of Rome, what did they speak? Or when Viking merchants sailed along the river Dneper into the Black Sea and then to Byzance, what did they speak?

Another example is Medieval Spain: not only Castilian was spoken, but also many other languages that were gradually absorbed and dissappeared. Some of them survive, spoken by tiny minorities, such as aragonese. In a way or another, Arabs, Jews and Christians blossomed in the same society, and even though they cultivated different tongues, they lived in relative harmony together for some 700 years in the same peninsula. Back on the other side of the Atlantic, the encounter of Europeans and Native Americans allowed multilingual communication. In the Mesoamerican world, the command of several languages was common -- Malintzin, the young Mayan girl who spoke fluent Náhuatl and then learned Spanish served as a translatior between Cortés and the Aztecs. Many Spaniards learned indigenous languages as well. At the same time the first offsprings of Europeans and Indians were growing up -- speaking in some cases even 4 languages (like the Aztec young scholars educated in the convent of San Juan de Tlatelolco, fluent in Latin, Greek, Spanish and Náhuatl).

Even though in some parts of the world, like the European Union, there are serious efforts to promote the learning of a second, third or even fourth language (based upon the single fact that the EU is a plurinational, polyglot entity), there is still a lot of work to do. It is a shame that many young people in Germany aren't able to speak any dialect anymore or don't even understand them (or want to). The prestige of High German and the weird ideas some people associate to dialects, regarded by many as uncultivated or ugly, are responsible of this cultural massacre. It will be a huge cultural loss when dialects fully dissappear. There might be a few exceptions (it is said, for example, that  Bavarians cultivate and protect their bayrisch) but still dialects and regional accents are stigmatized. To think that we should speak with the same accent (melody, intonation, etc.) is a wrong pedagogical idea that goes against human-language nature itself. I know somebody from Southern Germany I hadn't seen in a long time -- when I told him that his German sounded very "southern" to me, he gazed me  in dissappointement and said: "but everybody says I speak German the way it is spoken in Hannover". If you are familiar with German, you certainly known that Hannover is reputated by its "pure" German language. Needless to say, but I had no intention to offend my friend or make him feel "provincial".

There shouldn't be a thing such as one language policy. I dare myself to state that the natural state of things should be that people could move along as many languages or dialects as they need or want, no matter what. Why don't Mexican children learn at school at least one of the indigenous tongues? They could start by learning the most relevant to their region -- in Monterrey, for example, the Zapoteco, Mixteco o Huasteco, the languages of the indigenous inner-migrants who come from their faraway communities seeking a job in the city.

But still in many other regions of the world polyglossy is a natural thing. Central and Southern Asia is a nice example. Last year I met a guy from Afghanistan. He lives as a refugee in England and, as far as I know, he never had an institutionalized education. Even though his English is not very good, he told me that he learned it just by hearing and speaking - his vocabulary lacked of any sofistication, but still he could communicate complex ideas and teach me some moral lessons about why I shouldn't laugh at friends (he couldn't understand Western humor). Even though he spoke English really bad (as far as I know, he never had formal education), I must tell that I admired his ability to move among languages: he spoke Farsi and Urdu at his cell phone, and sometimes Arabic. And he stated he could understand some other two Middle East languages I cant' remember now. After a couple of days that we spent together driving around The Cotswolds --between Gloucester and Birmingham-- he learned some Spanish phrases and words from my friend J. and me: his pronunciaton was close to perfect, and with almost no effort he could learn some structures and phrases. I will never forget him shouting out loud ¡Tengo mucha hueva!, imitiating us. I thought that if somebody had the patience and time to teach him --and if he had the motivation to learn it or lived in Spain--, he could learn Spanish in a matter of months with almost no effort, regarding his polyglossy.

 I had the experience to meet some Indian scholars in a conference a few weeks ago. They are all not only perfect in speaking English, but they also spoke one, two or even three other Hindostani languages. This was natural for them, and during this conference, Indian Professor Anil Bathi (by the way a very prestigious comparatist and germanist teaching in New Delhi) argued that the concept of a mother tongue should be deconstructed. I agree. And I add: a single person might have more than one mother language in the course of a life. Think of the many migrans living anywhere in the world. In an ideal context, probably a very utopian one, we should all speak at least two tongues (the one(s) spoken at home while growing up and another one). Last Christmas my young nine year old niece was showing me a new game she played on her tablet. It had a name in English I didn't understand, so I took the Oxford American Dictionary and searched its meaning: I read the definition out, which was composed by three long sentences of a certain degree of complication. The child understood them immediatly and found a Spanish translation in a matter of seconds. I was fascinated by her ability, and I praised it and congratulated her. I think that someold fashioned nationalist patriot would had thought that I was enforcing her to "betray" our culture and our "national language" (btw when my mom went to school, the Spanish class was called with the pompous name lengua nacional). But I think that at this point of human history -- and given the current conditions of the world -- the idea of national languages should be only reserved to a matter of bureaucracy and pragmatism, but left behind on behalf of a better understanding among cultures --and of the nature of language itself.

Finally I would like to remember another Biblical episode: Pentecostes, where the apostles received the flame of the holy spirit. And started speaking in tongues.

Intralingual translations

One can translate from one language into another language, but also from one language variety into another variety of the same language. An example of the latter would be a translation from British English into American English. Many Harry Potter readers know that the American editions of the series were different from the British originals. While this is a very famous example, originally British books are often modified for American readers, in terms of spelling, vocabulary and cultural concepts. Despite common belief, such an intralingual translation of British books into American English is common practice and does not only happen in the realm of children’s literature (Mühleisen 2009: 377 and 388). American readers buying an originally British book are often unaware of the fact that it has been modified for them (Pillière 2010: 2). This is where traditional interlingual translations and intralingual translations differ from each other. The readers of books that have been translated from one language into another know that a translation has taken place. In an intralingual translation, the fact that editing has taken place is not as obvious to the reader (Pillière 2010: 6f.).

The American editors’ need to adapt British fiction for their readers is the outcome of the linguistic differences between the two varieties, which result from the history of the English language. Contemporary American English, as well as British English, derives from an earlier variety of English spoken on the British Isles (Algeo 2006: 1). As a matter of fact, American adaptations of British fiction offer good sources for insights into differences between British and American English (Algeo 2006: 5) and are therefore linguistically interesting.

One of the examples of an intralingual translation is the American edition of Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones’s Diary (Fielding 1998), which, apart from orthographic modifications, has also undergone changes in grammar, vocabulary and cultural references, as can be seen when comparing it to the original British edition (Fielding [1996] 2001). In the realm of grammar, for example, the editions differ in terms of prepositional usage and the forms of irregular verbs. Since Bridget Jones’s Diary is a quintessentially British book, a few cultural references had to be changed to make their meanings understandable to American readers. This practice is meant to ‘move the text toward the cultural background of the reader’ (Mühleisen 2009: 382). For example, some names of personalities from British popular culture were replaced with American or more internationally known stars. With cultural references, the reading experience is probably more vivid when one understands what exactly is meant. Nevertheless, the reader may still be able to guess what is meant even when the specifics of a reference are unknown. The majority of alterations in the American edition, however, were concerned with vocabulary items. Many of the words that were changed in the American edition were everyday words concerned with food, clothing and household items. Despite a large number of changes, many Britishisms remained unchanged in the American edition and the text still sounds distinctly British.
 
The changes undertaken in intralingual translations influence the voices of the characters and the narrator of a text (Pillière 2010). Such an alteration of literature, of a piece of art, can indeed be questionable. Mühleisen (2009) argues that American adaptations are made for ideological reasons, i.e. the need to establish and maintain a separate linguistic identity. As American literature is published in the UK without major changes (Pillière 2010: 7), one might wonder whether an intralingual translation is really necessary. As Mühleisen (2009: 391) points out, American adaptations of British novels could be carried out ad absurdum. Where does one stop? Generally speaking, an adaptation of the orthography may be reasonable, as it is indeed confusing to encounter two orthographic systems for the same language. When it comes to lexical or cultural changes, it is harder to say whether those are really necessary. In a book, words do not occur in isolation and the context often provides help for the reader. It is also not necessary to understand every single word or concept in order to enjoy a book. It is of course also debatable as to whether American readers actually want such translations (cf. Mühleisen 2009: 391f.). Changing a book to a large extent might diminish the charm that it had in its original form. Furthermore, literature can provide a door to a different, foreign world, thus broadening the reader’s horizons. The opportunities for this would be limited when a text is changed to be more similar to the reader’s own world. I can only concur with Mühleisen’s (2009: 387) view that ‘it is one of the excitements of the act of reading that you can enter a new world and discover things with which you are not familiar – and gradually find out more about them.’

Bibliography

Algeo, John. 2006. British or American English: A Handbook of Word and Grammar Patterns. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Fielding, Helen. [1996] 2001. Bridget Jones’s Diary. London: Picador.

—, 1998. Bridget Jones’s Diary. New York: Viking Penguin.

Mühleisen, Susanne. 2009. Language Ideology and the Language Divide in Cross-Atlantic Translations. In Americanisms: Discourses of Exception, Exclusion, Exchange, ed. Michael Steppat, 377-393. Heidelberg: Winter.

Pillière, Linda. 2010. Conflicting Voices: An analysis of Intralingual translation from British English to American English. E-rea: Revue électronique d’études sur le monde anglophone 8 (1): 2-10.

Freiwilligendienst bei "Todo por Ellos" - einer Herberge für Straßenkinder in Tapachula (Mexiko)

 

Die Nichtregierungsorganisation “Todo por Ellos” bietet Essen, Wasch- und Schlafmöglichkeiten für zentralamerikanische Kinder und Jugendliche, die in der Grenzstadt Tapachula auf der Straße leben. Wir suchen dringend Freiwillige, die uns in unseren verschiedenen Tätigkeitsbereichen unterstützen.

Todo por Ellos

In Mexiko existiert ein Netzwerk von Herbergen, die Migrant_innen auf ihrem Weg in die USA unterstuetzen, ihnen Essen und ein Dach über dem Kopf anbieten. “Todo por ellos” ist eine Herberge, in der speziell jugendliche unbegleitete Migrant_innen Zuflucht und Unterstützung finden. Die Herberge befindet sich in Tapachula, nahe der mexikanischen Südgrenze zu Guatemala, im Bundesstaat Chiapas. Die Arbeit wird ueber Spenden und ohne Unterstuetzung von Regierung oder großen NGOs finanziert.  Das Projekt “Todo por ellos” existiert dennoch schon seit fünf Jahren.  Im Jahre 2009 begann Herbergsvater Ramón Verdugo sich für Straßenkinder in Tapachula einzusetzen – in ihrer großen Mehrzahl Kinder und Jugendliche aus Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador und Nicaragua. Um diesen einen sicheren Ort, fern von Ausbeutung und Gewalt, bieten zu können, eröffnete er ein Jahr später die Herberge. 

Ramón Verdugo konnte das Projekt “Todo por ellos” bis heute - Repression und Übergriffen zum Trotz - aufrechterhalten, die sein Einsatz gegen eine unmenschliche Migrationspolitik, Polizeigewalt, Kinderhandel und Korruption der Lokalpolitiker nach sich zieht.  So schlossen die Behörden vor einem Jahr ohne Vorankündigung die Herberge und beförderten alle dort untergebrachten Jugendlichen auf die Straße, während Ramón Verdugo gerade außerhalb der Stadt war. Aufgrund von Drohungen gegen ihn sah er sich im Juli 2013 gezwungen, die Herberge erneut zu schließen und mitsamt seiner Familie das Land zu verlassen.

Dieses Jahr konnte „Todo por ellos“ endlich wieder ihre Türen für Straßenkinder öffnen. Im Januar 2014 kehrte Ramón nach Tapachula zurück, da ihm durch die Bundesgesetzgebung zum Schutz von Menschenrechtsverteidiger_innen und Journalist­_innen offiziell Polizeischutz gewährt werden muss. Die Herbergen und ihre Helfer_innen befinden sich jedoch dennoch, ähnlich wie andere Menschenrechts­vertreter_innen in Mexiko, in ständiger Gefahr. Denn sie kommen mit ihrer Arbeit nicht nur kriminelle Banden in die Quere, sondern sind auch lokalen Autoritäten ein Dorn im Auge, die von der Ausbeutung von Migrant_innen profitieren.

Die Situation von Straßenkindern in Tapachula

Die Situation von illegalisierten zentralamerikanischen Kindern und Jugendlichen in Tapachula ist äußerst komplex. Für Kinderhandelsringe stellen sie ein Geschäft dar und auch die korrupten Lokalbehörden sehen in ihnen vor allem eine Einnahmequelle. Die Verstrickung der Behörden geht soweit, dass die aktuelle Stadtregierung unter Samuel Chacon allen guatemaltekischen Kindern und Jugendlichen, die im Stadtzentrum  Kaugummis und Zigaretten verkaufen, täglich fünf Pesos abnimmt. Das Aufdecken dieser Ausbeutungsverhältnisse ist auch höchstwahrscheinlich der Grund für die Drohungen und Repression gegen Ramón Verdugo gewesen. 

Aufgrund von Straflosigkeit und Korruption hat sich Tapachula zu einer Hochburg von Kinderarbeit und Kinderprostitution entwickelt. Schätzungen zufolge arbeiten in Mexiko über 3 Millionen Kinder zwischen 5 und 15 Jahren. Der mexikanische Bundesstaat Chiapas führt seit Jahren die Statistiken von Kinderarbeit an. Gleichzeitig gab es in ganz Mexiko zwischen 2009 und 2011 weniger als 2.000 Anklagen wegen Kinderarbeit, Kinderprostitution und Kinderhandel – dies zeigt das Ausmaß der Straflosigkeit auf.

Direkte Unterstützung für Straßenkinder

Die Arbeit von „Todo por ellos“ richtet sich in erster Linie an Kinder und Jugendliche auf der Straße; zumeist Migrant_innen, aber auch Mexikaner_innen. Ihnen wird ein Platz zum Schlafen und etwas zu Essen angeboten, darüber hinaus, und soweit sie das wünschen, ein geregelter Tagesablauf und der Zugang zu Schulbildung. Das Ziel der Herberge ist es vor allen Dingen, die Kinder von der Straße zu holen -  denn dort sind sie am Verwundbarsten. Die staatlichen Institutionen, die verpflichtet wären, den Kindern beizustehen, sind eher Teil des Problems, denn der Lösung. Eine Hilfe aus der Zivilgesellschaft heraus ist also dringend notwendig, um die Situation der Kinder und Jugendlichen auf der Straße zu verbessern. 

Eine solche Unterstützung ist nicht nur kosten- sondern auch zeitaufwendig. Deshalb suchen wir Freiwillige, die uns bei unserer Arbeit unterstützen. Denn um unsere Arbeit professionalisieren zu können und mehr Straßenkinder zu versorgen, brauchen wir mehr engagierte Helfer_innen.

Die Arbeit der Herberge

Grundsätzlich besteht unsere Arbeit aus drei Schwerpunkten: der Betreuung von Kindern und Jugendlichen in der Herberge, Streetwork auf den Straßen und öffentlichen Plätzen von Tapachula sowie Öffentlichkeitsarbeit, um die Bevölkerung zu sensibilisieren.

1. Aufgaben für Freiwillige in der Herberge:

-       Zeit mit den Kinder und Jugendlichen verbringen, Ihnen zuhören und sie bei ihren alltäglichen Problemen unterstützen, z.B. auch bei Hausaufgaben

-       Essenszubereitung

-       Instandhaltung der Herberge und kleinere Reparaturarbeiten

-       Registrierung der Kinder und Jugendlichen, Dokumentation und Archivierung ihrer Geschichten

2. Auf der Straße:

-       Morgens und abends die Gegenden ablaufen, wo sich die Straßenkinder vermehrt aufhalten, ihnen Hilfe anbieten und sie in die Herberge einladen

-   Aufklärungsarbeit über Menschenhandel, Zwangsarbeit und Prostitution sowie Gegenstrategien und Präventivmaßnahmen

3. Sonstiges:

-  Vernetzungsarbeit mit lokalen, regionalen, nationalen und internationalen Organisationen

-  Planung und Durchführung von Solidaritäts- und Aufklärungsaktionen, Demonstrationen, Infoständen

-       Begleitung der Kinder bei Arzt- und Krankenhausbesuchen

All diese Tätigkeiten können wir kaum abdecken. Deswegen suchen wir dringend nach Freiwilligen die uns unterstützen. Sowohl bei den oben erwähnten Aufgaben, wie auch, um weitere Projekte anzugehen.

Weitere Infos zu unser Arbeit findet ihr unter http://todoporellos.org.mx

Bei Interesse schreibt uns bitte ein kurze Mail auf Spanisch oder Englisch an info@todoporellos.org.mx

"Esta noche deberíamos haber ganado"

 Die binationale Sicht auf ein Fußballländerspiel

Isabel ist nervös. Sie blickt ins Leere und atmet schwer aus. Für sie ist dieser Tag etwas ganz besonderes: Heute spielt die deutsche Fußballnationalmannschaft ein Freundschaftsspiel gegen Chile und Isabel wird ganz nah dabei sein, wenn sie später in der Stuttgarter Mercedes-Benz Arena sitzt. Doch das Spiel alleine ist nicht der Grund für ihre Nervosität. Chile und Deutschland, das sind Isabels Wurzeln. Ihr Vater ist Chilene, ihre Mutter deutsch. Beim heutigen Aufeinandertreffen stellt sich also unumgänglich die Frage, wen sie anfeuern wird. "Beide.", sagt sie lächelnd und präsentiert stolz die Chileflagge auf ihrer Wange und das Trikot der deutschen Nationalmannschaft, das sie sich bereits übergezogen hat. Vor dem Spiel ist für Isabel klar, dass sie sich an diesem Abend über jedes Tor freuen wird, egal, auf welcher Seite es fällt.

Doch je näher wir dem Stadion kommen, desto mehr scheint Isabels chilenische Seite von ihr Besitz zu ergreifen. Es haben sich bereits einige Fangruppen der Andenrepublik eingefunden und jede Gruppe wird von Isabel begeistert kommentiert. "¡Buena! ¡Viva Chile!" Sie stimmt bei Fangesängen mit ein und ist von der Stimmung ergriffen. 
Als dann endlich das Spiel anfängt, ist Isabel ganz Chilenin. Wild gestikulierend feuert sie "La Roja" (dt.: Die Rote. Der Spitzname der chilenischen Nationalmannschaft) an, kommentiert Spielzüge und flucht aus tiefster Seele in vulgärstem chilenischem Spanisch.

Und die chilenischen Spieler danken es ihr mit einer  herausragenden Leistung. In der zweiten Halbzeit brennen sie ein wahres Offensivfeuerwerk ab. Nur ein Tor will ihnen nicht gelingen, obwohl der chilenische Fanblock alles gibt, um den Ball doch noch ins Netz zu schreien, singen und klatschen. Auch Isabel verausgabt sich geradezu bei der Anfeuerung "ihrer" Mannschaft. Die irritierten Blicke, die sie dafür von den um uns herumsitzenden Deutschlandfans erntet, bemerkt sie gar nicht. Sie ist in einer anderen Welt.
Doch die Südamerikaner schaffen es einfach nicht, den Ball im Netz der Deutschen unterzubringen und so gewinnt Deutschland dann am Ende überaus glücklich mit 1-0.

Lange braucht Isabel, um den Adrenalinspiegel nach dem Spiel wieder etwas herunterzufahren. Ein ungerechtes Spiel sei es für sie gewesen, wiederholt sie oft. "Esta noche deberíamos haber ganado." - "Heute Abend hätten wir gewinnen müssen." Wir. Dazu zählt sich Isabel ganz selbstverständlich.


Am nächsten Tag unterhalte ich mich mit Isabel nochmals über das Spiel und den Gefühlskonflikt für sie, zwischen zwei Nationen zu wählen.

Ojos Abiertos: Also, Isi. Du warst ja gestern vor dem Spiel sehr aufgeregt. Kannst du einmal deine Gefühlslage vor dem Spiel beschreiben? Wie war das für dich?

Isabel: Ich war einfach richtig aufgeregt und patriotisch für Chile, weil ich unbedingt wollte, dass die auf jeden Fall ein gutes Bild abgeben, am besten natürlich gewinnen. Gleichzeitig habe ich gemerkt: Eigentlich kann ich ja gar nicht verlieren, weil ich ja eben auch Deutsche bin. Ich habe aber einfach gemerkt, wie stark ich an Chile hänge und wie sehr ich mich freue, das auch mit meinem Vater erlebt zu haben und die ganzen chilenischen Fans gesehen zu haben, wie sie alle euphorisch sind und sich einfach nur freuen und feiern. Gleichzeitig wissen sie, dass es nicht unbedingt ein großer Sieg sein wird. Aber trotzdem: diese Fußballfreude, das hat mich so begeistert und bestätigt, wie glücklich ich doch sein kann.

OA: Du hattest ja ein Deutschlandtrikot an und gleichzeitig noch eine Chileflagge auf der Wange, während des Spiels war das ja dann aber doch...

I: [unterbricht] Ich habe halt vorher wirklich überlegt, ob ich mir beide Wangen chilenisch mache, weil ich doch gemerkt habe, wenn ich das Deutschlandtrikot anhabe, dann ist ja Chile nur ganz klein vertreten mit nur einer Wange. Eigentlich ist doch im Herzen bei mir sehr viel Chile vertreten. Und dann habe ich mir auch die Jacke übergezogen, sodass man das Deutschlandtrikot gar nicht mehr sehen konnte. Aber das war echt... [stottert] Ich bin immer noch verwirrt darüber.

OA: Mein Eindruck war eigentlich...

I: [unterbricht] Obwohl ich überhaupt keine Ahnung habe. Ich kenne ja auch mehr deutsche Spieler.Von Chile musste ich ja die ganze Zeit fragen: "Wie heißen die denn jetzt?" Wer ist denn der mit dem Iro? Vidal, oder?

OA: Ja.

I: Ja! Sehr gut! Das habe ich mir wenigstens gemerkt.

OA: Ich hatte auch wirklich den Eindruck, dass du nicht mehr deutsch warst, als das Spiel anfing.

I: Nee, richtig! [lacht] Ja! Das hätte ich echt nicht gedacht.

OA: Du hast auch zwischendurch sehnsüchtig in Richtung der chilenischen Fankurve geschaut. Wärst du da gerne dabei gewesen?

I: Ja! Ich hätte auch noch mehr geschrien und gejubelt, aber unter den ganzen Deutschen wollte ich jetzt auch nicht noch mehr aus mir herausgehen. Ich habe mich sowieso schon sehr fehl am Platz gefühlt.

OA: Ist das auch ein Gefühl von Heimat, wenn du so vielen Chilenen begegnest?

I: Heimat nicht unbedingt, aber ich fühle mich dann einfach wohl. Sie sind ja auch nicht negativ aufgefallen, sie haben einfach gefeiert. Und dann denke ich halt: Das ist mein Blut und wie wunderbar, dass ihr Chile hier so schön vertretet.

OA: Du hattest also eigentlich keinen Gefühlskonflikt, sondern warst von Anfang auf Chiles Seite.

I: Ja, definitiv! Das Ergebnis regt mich auch jetzt noch auf. Cool, dass sie so gut gespielt haben, aber das 1-1 wäre auf jeden Fall verdient gewesen. Das hast du ja auch schon gesagt.

OA: Gibt es auch andere Momente in Deutschland, in denen du dich so stark mit Chile identifizierst?

I: [zögert] Also, das ist lustig. Wenn mich zum Beispiel jemand fragt, woher ich komme, dann würde ich nie sofort Chile sagen, außer natürlich, ein Chilene oder jemand spanischsprachiges fragt mich. Man sucht sich schon immer die Vorteile aus. Wenn mich jemand deutsches fragt, woher ich komme, sage ich immer, dass ich aus Freiburg bin. Und erst auf die dritte Frage erkläre ich dann, dass mein Vater aus Chile kommt und nicht, dass ich mich chilenisch fühle.

OA: Ok, danke für das Gespräch, Isi!

Tango en Julio Cortázar

Siempre he sentido debilidad por la narrativa hispanoamericana del siglo XX de autores latinoamericanos. Descubrí como lectura obligatoria en el instituto la literatura de realismo mágico con la obra Cien años de Soledad del autor y novelista colombiano Gabriel García Márquez y más adelante me dispuse a conocer otras obras del mismo autor y de otros autores latinoamericanos. Por cuestiones personales y académicas, empecé a aventurarme en las lecturas de otro gran autor latinoamericano, Julio Cortázar, coincidiendo que tomaba clases de tango en mis ratos libres. Así que deje por un momento a Federico García Lorca y mi traje de lunares, y me adentré en el mundo argentino. 

 La literatura de Cortázar es muy característica por sus elementos fantásticos que el propio autor lo define así por falta de mejor nombre[1]. Bestiario, una colección de cuentos publicados en 1952, o Todos los fuegos el fuego en 1966 y su novela Rayuela de 1963, obra culmen de su vida literaria, son prueba de ello. Pero no solamente Julio Cortázar se distingue por su literatura fantástica en sus cuentos o en sus escritos, la música ejerció una gran influencia en su vida y ese amor musical influyó en algunas de sus obras. En Rayuela el jazz es la música elegida que enmarca y acompaña a los protagonistas y en el cuento Las Puertas del Cielo, donde la obra en la que el tango cobra protagonismo y es el motivo de este texto, el autor se aproxima a su cultura popular y subraya su argentinidad.

Para la lectura del cuento Las Puertas del Cielo, añado el link donde se encuentra el relato: http://literaturaeimaginarios.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/cortc3a1zar-las-puertas-del-cielo.pdf

¿Qué es el tango?

El baile del tango no sólo se compone de música o melodía, sino que también es un compendio de escenificación y sus textos, que contienen gran carga erótica, relatan pasiones y decepciones amorosas. El baile se compone de un reparto de papeles entre un hombre y una mujer: el hombre guía a la mujer y la mujer se deja llevar por el hombre, es decir, que el hombre desempeña el papel dominante de la pareja [2]. Todo ello rodeado de ambientes sórdidos en los salones y burdeles de los suburbios de la capital argentina en los comienzos del tango, que se sitúa aproximadamente entre 1880 y 1890, y que escapaba de las normas morales establecidas de la época. Por este motivo, en la sociedad argentina de finales del siglo XIX y principios del XX, representaba el mundo perfecto de los ladrones y maleantes con un propio lenguaje cifrado, el lunfardo. Aunque al principio el tango connotaba vulgaridad, ya en los años veinte fue adaptándose progresivamente en la sociedad argentina, y esa idea de baile “prohibido” cambió por completo hasta convertirse en una nueva moda para los burgueses. 

La lengua del tango: el lunfardo

Los primeros tangos relataban esas hazañas de los ladrones como válvulas de escape, pero después se fueron cambiando los temas y se llenaron de sensualidad y de amores imposibles. 'El lunfardo era un vocabulario de machos, propio del hablar sin barreras de hombres que se ponen a contar sus cosas' [3] Se sabe que los lunfardos eran al principio ladrones que utilizaron un lenguaje diferente para codificar sus mensajes y que la policía no les atrapase, por eso era una mezcla de expresiones de inmigrantes de origen italiano. [4]

Percepción de Julio Cortázar sobre el tango

Cortázar disfrutaba del tango, e incluso cantaba y compuso varias letras de tango con una gran dedicación. Julio Cortázar expresaba así su pasión: "...yo crecí en una atmósfera de tangos. Los escuchábamos por radio, porque la radio empezó cuando yo era chico, y después fue un tango tras otro. Había gente en mi familia, mi madre y una tía, que tocaba tangos al piano y los cantaba... El tango se convirtió en parte de mi conciencia y es la música que siempre me devuelve a mi juventud y a Buenos Aires".[5] En 1953, estando en París, unos amigos dejaron a Cortázar una vitrola y unos discos de Carlos Gardel. A partir de esa experiencia Cortázar evoca a Gardel en un precioso texto lleno de añoranza y ternura. Para Cortázar sólo existe una forma de escuchar a Gardel, no en directo, sino a través de una vieja victrola, en discos gastados acariciados por la púa, en noches de verano, y cebando mate.[6]

Presentación del tango en el cuento Las Puertas del Cielo

Aunque en el cuento hay tres personajes reconocibles, el tango se convierte en otro personaje más que es el que completa a los personajes físicos y se convierte en el eje narrativo de la historia. Las letras de los tangos hablan por los personajes y la historia cobra sentido. En Las Puertas del Cielo se presenta la historia de amor entre Celina, una mujer de estrato social bajo que se dedicaba a la prostitución, y Mauro, un porteño de un estrato social medio-bajo de origen italiano. Por otro lado, el narrador, un abogado de Buenos Aires llamado Marcelo Hardoy, es el que nos presenta a esta pareja singular y nos describe todas sus sensaciones que le evocan su amistad con la pareja y el tipo de sociedad que asiste a bailar tango de Santa Fe Palace.

Los personajes de la milonga son infravalorados y despreciados por el narrador, el doctor Marcelo Hardoy, que sugiere esa idea de duelo criollo de fuerte carácter machista con reminiscencias de la época colonial. Esos hombres bailan con mujeres y necesitan esos encuentros eróticos gracias al tango y preservar la idea o la norma social de la posesión antigua a la mujer. [7] Mientras que en la milonga se cantan las canciones por dos artistas de tango, el público asistente baila y el lector puede imaginarse el ambiente y los pasos de baile imaginariamente:“Anita Lozano [… ] desde el palco, [… ] su estilo era canalla, necesitado de una voz ronca y sucia  para esas letras llenas de diatriba. “(Anita) se ponía a cantar quebrado, las parejas bailaban sin salir de su sitio y se veía que escuchaban la letra con deseo y desdicha y todo el negado placer de la farra. Las caras buscaban el palco y aun girando se las veía seguir Anita inclinada y confidente en el micrófono” [… ] “ la violencia del baile, las corridas laterales y los ochos entreverados en el medio de la pista”. 

Además de la presentación social de los personajes y la descripción del baile, el lector puede encontrar una segunda interpretación que deja entrever la ideología y la postura del autor sobre los hechos políticos de aquella época. Julio Cortázar estaba a favor de la revolución cubana y fue muy escéptico con la Argentina Peronista. Emigró de Argentina en 1951 y se estableció en Europa. Desde allí podía ver los acontecimientos políticos e históricos desde otra perspectiva. Por ese motivo, hay una interpretación política de su narrativa que los personajes del baile, descritos por el Doctor Hardoy como “monstruos” y que se identificaban con  los partidarios de Perón, los cabecillas negras, y debido a su auge invadían Buenos Aires y atemorizaban a la burguesía existente de la época. Por lo tanto, Las Puertas del Cielo es un cuento en que al lector se le presenta las clases “cultas” frente al ascenso de las clases populares durante la primera época del peronismo. El narrador lo siente así recordando la figura de la amada de su amigo Mauro y expresando su repulsa que le produce ver a los “cabecillas negras”. El autor  lo aborda desde una perspectiva compleja y permite en la voz del doctor Hardoy configurar una representación determinada de la sociedad y transponer sus valores ideológicos en sus escritos.[8] Sin embargo, al final de la trama se descubre que sólo Celina es la única que puede entrar en el cielo, según la visión de Hardoy: “Era su duro cielo conquistado, su tango vuelto a tocar para ella sola y sus iguales”  […] ”(Mauro) que volvería agobiado y sediento sin haber encontrado las puertas del cielo entre ese humo y ese cielo”

Julio Cortázar, como argentino que es, intentó acercarse a la cultura cultural y musical de su país. Gracias a las nuevas tendencias artísticas y narrativas del modernismo, Cortázar mezcla su literatura con la música del tango y en su cuento incluye estrofas de las letras y descripciones de los movimientos de los pasos de baile. De este modo, consigue que los tangos enmarquen la historia del cuento Las puertas del cielo, dándole un toque genuino y acercando sus raíces argentinas a todo el público hispanoamericano.

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[1] Cortázar, Julio, Algunos aspectos del cuento, Casa de Américas (La Habana), 11, 15-16 (1962-1963), 3-14

[2] Saikin, Magali,Tango und Gender. Identitäten und Geschlechterrollen im Argentinischen Tango, 2004, Deutschland, 15

[3]  Definición del lunfardo en el libro Panorama del lunfardo de Mario Teruggi, uno de los investigadores del argot lunfardo (Ebd. 182)

[4] (Ebd.183)

[5] Cortázar, Julio sobre el tango: http://untangoalsurdelaluna.wordpress.com/2010/12/09/julio-cortazar-y-el-tango/ (6.04.2013)

[6]  Vgl. http://www.todotango.com/spanish/gardel/cronicas/gardel_vitrola.asp

[7] (Ebd., 164)

[8] http://www.buenastareas.com/ensayos/Puertas-Del-Cielo-Julio-Cortazar/6460664.html

The globality of sports

C.A. Bayle, in his innovative approach to History writing, discusses in his book The Birth of the Modern World (2004) the gradual stardardization of global culture, political systems and economical structures, shaping the face of the world in a way that 21st century citizens might feel pretty much in the same place in Frankfurt, New York and Shanghai, even though we're talking about cities who belong to different countries and traditions.

Following a similar line,  Edward Said, the famous author of Orientalism, states in Culture and Imperialism (1994) how the expansion of Western culture was possible due to the broad extent of its empires: if by 1800 European powers claimed for themselves 55% of Earth's territory, by 1914 almost 85% of the globe was under the rule of Great Britain, France, the United States or Russia. 

It was imperialism that allowed the rise of a communication network that is still available in the present day--even in a larger extent and in a more penetrant way than it was 30 years ago. It surprises me how, in this sense, some objects and sounds, words and music, hobbies and symbols, foods and drinks have become a global commodity and an integral part of every day life for many people around the world. From pizza to pasta, the most recent hit single of  Daft Punkt or the insult "fuck you". But I'd like to concentrate on sport.

Take the example of (American) football. Even though it is probably the most American of American sports --only rivaled in its americaness by baseball-- last Sunday the Super Bowl was seen by ca. 100 million spectators around the globe. Football isn't as present in contemporary Germany as it is, for example, in Britain, but still there was an echo in the press while some of my German Facebook contacts commented the game on their statuses.

On the other hand, (European) football or soccer --as it is called in America-- is probably the most widely expanded British cultural export after The Beatles (or even more than them, because The Beatles, despite their canonized musical eternity, are in my opinion a more generational thing in contrast to football, a transgenerational phenomena that includes men and women of all ages, nationalities and social classes.

Football or Fussball came to Germany via Hamburg at the end of the 19th century. It was brought by English sailors who founded a small club in the harbor city. The sport expanded quickly in the German speaking world, so last year was celebrated the 50th Anniversary of the Bundesliga. German teams stand for cities or entire regions, but also for multinational companies (Hoffenheim = SAP, Leverkusen = Bayer) and political orientations (St Pauli is for example associated with Hamburg's leftwing scene)

But sports, as superficial and anti-intellectual as they might seem at the glance of  highly educated snobs, an in particular football, are in my opinion one of the most powerful tools of globalization: It has not only become a commodity and a business of millions of euros --from sports equipment to stadium tickets--, it has also become a way to articulate a sense of a global community. Or, as Benedict Anderson called, an Imagined Community of individuals who have neither seen each other, nor have any conscience of each other's concrete existence, yet they are aware of their belonging to a common (comm)unity (See: Imagined Communities, 1983)

Why, then, should be for example the Manchester United so interested in buying a Mexican young player, Chicharito? It is of course a matter of money --it's a about creating a new market and lock potential fans / clients / consumers in a developing country like Mexico, highly addicted to football. Chicharito, as any other player, is a commodity. But also a link between two countries that apparently have nothing to do with each other. Could be, in this sense, the Manchester United the most global of all teams, since it has had among its most famous players so many international figures, such as the Frenchman Eric Cantona? Just imagine this: How crazy were British fans for a Frenchman player, an ambassador of that imaginary "enemy" / rival, that country of "wine-and-cheese-freaks" across the Channel! Take a glance at the film Looking for Eric (2009), which pictures the illusions of a hardcore, middle aged Cantona's fan from Northern England:

We also have examples of this sport's globality in Germany. The team Borussia Dortmund (BVB), for example, offers updates in Japanese on its Facebook page: after Shinji Kagawa (now by the way in ManU) came to the Ruhr, a community of fans was born thousands of kilometers away. Such a paradox: a very traditional, deeply regional team, that is an unbeatable element of Ruhrpott popular culture along with other rival teams, like FC Schalke --hated by the way by Dortmund fans--, has become at the same time a part of Japanese sport's life --and popular culture.

As globalization involves migration at the same time, to finish this post I'd like to throw a last question: have you noticed the very international face of British, French and German National teams?  This makes me think of football also as a political message and as an historical narrative. In the case of Germany, it is for me clear that soccer is also a matter of international affairs: it is about showing the world how ethnically diverse (or as I'd say in German, bunt) German contemporary society has become, and at the same time, it is about sending a message to the interior of the Republic: a clear message that cultural integration is / should be possible. Sami Khedira, Mario Gomez and Mesut Özil --current or former National team members-- are not only football stars, they are also a picture of the cultural history --the history of migrations-- of our Federal Republic.

Feel free to post any comments or send us some other examples you can think of.

Cologne, 06.02.14

Anglicisms in the Spanish language

A lot of people currently show an interest in Anglicisms, even if they have no linguistic training (Álvarez 2001: 49). Not only linguists, but also political and social institutions have tended to express apprehensions about the borrowing of English terms into Spanish. These worries and purist attitudes should also be seen in the light of social considerations, as the existence of Anglicisms may bring Anglo-Saxon supremacy to mind (Rodríguez González 2002: 131). From a purist point of view, the borrowing of foreign terms constitutes a danger to the Spanish language. Gómez Capuz (2005: 7) describes these attitudes: 

 “[e]n el lenguaje normativista y purista español, las palabras procedentes de otros idiomas [...] dejan de ser simples elementos léxicos para convertirse en personificaciones de la “amenaza extranjera”: a veces son descritas en términos militares como “invasores” [...] otras veces son descritas en términos biológicos y médicos como [...] “virus””

Instead of these metaphors, Gómez Capuz (2005: 7) proposes we update our view of Anglicisms and see them as “lexical immigrants” instead. Explaining that Anglicisms, just like immigrants, may face difficult circumstances after their arrival and that they may have to give up some of their native characteristics in order to achieve integration into their new country of residence, Gómez Capuz draws compelling parallels between immigrants and linguistic borrowings. As a matter of fact, his metaphor somewhat mirrors a change in attitudes in linguistic investigations into Anglicisms in Spanish. While research between the 1940s and 1970s tended to express rather purist attitudes, later research has adopted a more moderate and descriptive position. Anglicisms are now treated as a phenomenon related to language contact (Medina López 2004: 15ff.).

Borrowing is not an unusual process in languages. Throughout its history, Spanish has borrowed many words from other languages, such as Arabic, Italian or French (Rodríguez González 2002: 128, Gómez Capuz 2005: 7f. and Medina López 2004: 9f.). English loanwords started to appear in the Spanish language in the 18^th century. This linguistic phenomenon is thus related to Britain’s growth as a world power. In the 18^th and 19^th century, Spaniards started taking an interest in British culture, life and sports. English started to be taught at some schools, and the Industrial Revolution and its technological innovations required new vocabulary (Rodríguez González 2002: 128f.). After 1950, the influence of the English language became even more considerable. Tourism, the media, sports, fashion, a general fascination with the American way of life, computers and the internet help to explain the increased effects of English upon the Spanish language. A further factor was the strong increase of English and English philology as school and university subjects (Rodríguez González 2002: 129f. and 134; Medina López 2004: 7-12). As can be seen, the study of Anglicisms entails the study of the external and social factors that condition the incorporation of English loanwords into the Spanish language (cf. Medina López 2004: 11). 

Anglicisms occur at various levels of the linguistic system; they can be lexical, orthographic, morphological, semantic, syntactic or pragmatic (Álvarez 2001: 50 and Rodríguez González 2002: 130f.). When it comes to usage, differences can be found according to the region, stylistic level, the means of communication and the social status or education level of the user (Rodríguez González 2002: 132f. and 145ff.). Different varieties of Spanish use different English loan words and they also use them to different degrees. Latin American varieties showed an earlier and stronger influence of English, to be more precise, of American English. European Spanish Anglicisms are often due to mediation via French (Rodríguez González 2002: 132 and Medina López 2004: 8). One therefore needs to take into account that there are cases in which the loanword with an English ultimate etymon has come into Spanish via another language. For example, biftec/bistec (< beefsteak) arrived in Spanish via French (Rodríguez González 2002: 134). Consequently, it is difficult to establish one concrete definition that will capture the etymological origin, the way it entered the Spanish language and the situational and social variation in the use of an Anglicism (Medina López 2004: 13).

After its introduction into a language, a loanword can undergo various stages of adaptation and integration. Usually, three stages are distinguished. In the first stage, that of transfer, the loan’s usage is limited to specific fields. Only one of the loan’s native meanings is borrowed and this meaning might need to be explained alongside the term in the receiving language (Gómez Capuz 2005: 15f.). This stage is followed by a stage of assimilation. Loans which have proved their usefulness and are employed and understood to a certain extent will undergo a lengthy process of orthographic, phonetic, morphological and semantic adaptation (ibid.: 17f.). The third stage corresponds to a native behaviour of the borrowed element, i.e. it is not easily recognised as a foreign term anymore and is used creatively (ibid.: 25f.)

As implied above, when studying the integration of Anglicisms into Spanish, one can investigate their pronunciation, spelling and morphology[1]. When it comes to pronunciation, for example, there are marked differences between different Anglicisms. The pronunciation of an Anglicism by Spanish speakers depends on various factors: the duration for which it has been present in Spanish, its level of integration, whether it arrived via spoken or written media and the age and education level of the speaker. The pronunciation is mostly influenced by the differences in the phonological systems of the two languages. When the English includes phonemes or clusters that do not exist in Spanish, they need to be rendered somehow. The initial /h/, for example, is always rendered as [x] (cf. hobby/jobi), while initial /ʤ/ can be rendered as either [j] or [ʤ] (cf. jazz as [ʤas] or [jas]). Consonant clusters with an initial [s-] are pronounced by adding a prothetic /e/ at the front, as in estándar (Rodríguez González 2002: 135). The age of a loan will influence its pronunciation as well, with older loans, which often arrived via a written medium, tending to be pronounced in a Spanish way, while more recent loans retain the English pronunciation more. This is due to both an increased familiarity with the foreign language as well as to the loans being taken from spoken English (ibid.: 136f.).

Orthographically, we also find different degrees of assimilation into the Spanish system. English spelling tends to be retained at the start of a loanword’s integration into Spanish. More recent loans also display a tendency to keep the English spelling. Consequently, English-like and more Spanish-like variants may co-exist, such as in <smoking/esmoquin>. The choice of one or the other then depends on sociolinguistic and stylistic factors. There may even be a difference in meaning depending on the respective orthography (Rodríguez González 2002: 137f.).

Loanwords also need to be assimilated morphologically. For nouns, which constitute the largest group of Spanish Anglicisms, for example, gender needs to be assigned and ways of forming the plural need to be decided on. For the latter, there are three options: -s (pins), -es (pines) or Ø (los pin) (Rodríguez González 2002: 138f.).

As can be seen, Anglicisms offer a large and complex area of research, where a lot of different aspects need to be taken into account. Furthermore, specific Anglicisms may fall out of use or the domains in which Anglicisms are mostly used may change. Due to these rather quick changes, studies from only a few decades ago may therefore not be up to date anymore. This is why new studies should be carried out (Álvarez 2001: 49f.).

Bibliography

Álvarez, I. 2001. Anglicismos Semánticos en el Español Peninsular Actual. Español Actual 76: 49-60.

Gómez Capuz, J. 2005. La inmigración léxica. Madrid: Arco Libros.

Medina López, J. 2004. El anglicismo en el español actual. Madrid: Arcos Libros.

Rodríguez González, F. 2002. Spanish. In: Görlach, M. (Hg.). English in Europe. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 128-150.

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[1]The following account is based on Rodríguez González (2002: 135-144). See Gómez Capuz (2005: 18-25) for an overview of the different processes of assimilation for “lexical immigrants” in general.