Learning to speak ‘merican

It’s a place where:

• handshakes are gentle
• you use all four fingers of your right hand palm down to beckon.
• you used to be able to listen to Captial FM on the radio, so you could drive along at night, hearing about early morning traffic jams on the M25.
• one travellers’ guide I just read recommended containing any sudden urges you might have to kick up a rumpus immediately after sunset on Thursday evenings.

And here’s your picture clue:

Answer: I’m in for a treat, because next week I will be visiting the beautiful Brunei, a Sultanate on the northwest coast of the Island of Borneo. I’ve been once before, and remember it encountering some delightfully exotic customs and rituals.

That travellers’ guide also said:

 “If sent an invitation, you should arrive on time or within 20 minutes of the stated time”.

 But I remember it as being more complex than that. Lower status conference attendees arrived early, then the more important ones came a bit later, then the VIP’s and then the very big VIPs were the last to arrive. With no written rules to guide them, folks understood their place in the pecking order and schedule and timed their entrances to precise perfection.

I messed up one evening. I mistook an invitation as being a sort of casual ‘come any time’ suggestion when it wasn’t. I found myself arriving at a formal dinner after the big VIPs. Big blushes. Who did I think I was? To make up for my faux pas, I thought I should mingle for a while after dinner, until a European lady realized I was a rookie and whispered in my ear: ‘You realize nobody can go home until you have left’. Horror of horrors! Behind me was a row of my hosts, standing in line to shake hands and bid me farewell.

Luckily they seem to have forgiven me (or perhaps tactfully chosen to forget?) because they are letting me come back. So if you’re free and in the neighbourhood this weekend, please come and say hi at the E4BT (English for Business and Technology) conference at the Institut Teknologi Brunei, Brunei Darussalam. And if not, I hope to return with some stories to tell.

If you fancy some more cultural oddities reading while I’m gone, I bet you’ll enjoy the lovely new politeness worksheet over at Alex Case’s blog. Now I must go pack. Luckily Lyndsay Clanfield has vlogged some tips on that.

My first teaching job was in Algeria. (For more on my first lesson, see here) It was a fantastic experience, but not without its hassles. I was an unveiled female in her twenties and when I did my shopping in the local market, I generally came back with a couple of bags of groceries and a dozen guys following me. They’d be calling things out to try to attract my attention and it wasn’t a very pleasant experience. 

I was reminded of this when my daughter took me to Marrakesh last year. It was a wonderful holiday but my daughter is young and beautiful. She proved difficult to ignore so a stroll through the souk could be a bit trying.

One hot, dusty day we ducked into a shop. I was tired, feeling pestered and and bit irritable. The owner offered tea and made ready to engage in some haggling about a bag my daughter was interested in. I’d had some experience of Algerian hospitality and haggling and  realised a refusal was – well, not quite right. But nevertheless I declined both offers. The shop keeper’s response was to patiently try to explain the customs to me and I felt a bit ashamed of myself.

Because haggling can be a fun rewarding game of course, if you’re in the mood and willing to engage. I wonder if it’s one that men are socialised to play more than women in the UK and US. (See here for an article that indicates it might impact on salaries.) So there may be gender differences and there are cultural differences, of course.

Haggling is essentially a conversational routine that’s built around a disagreement. I think something is worth X and you think it’s worth Y. Geoffrey Leech reckoned that politeness dictates that we:

‘Minimize the expression of disagreement between self and other; maximize the expression of agreement between self and other.’ 

But there are two ways to look at disagreements. Yep, they can drive us apart, but they can also draw us together. It’s possible that through the process of argument and a bit of argey bargey, we can sometimes get to understand one another better and achieve a greater closeness.

And that can lead to a few culture clashes. At the risk of sweeping generalization, in Germany people may appreciate a long, frank exchange of views that enables them to become more informed of the issues. So a German team might want to thrash things out in greater detail than a French team, say, who might feel that agreeing to disagree is a more attractive solution.

Similarly, in Israel, disagreeing bluntly may build closeness and trust. The fact that one person can say disagreeable things to another can also signal solidarity – it indicates they think they are both the same kind of people and who want the same kind of things.

We know there’s tons of cultural variation in how people handle disagreements. In Brazil, a passionate argument may demonstrate healthy enthusiasm for an idea. In Singapore, emotional displays may be seen as a sign of weakness and a lack of control. In Japan, people may prefer to ask a string of questions rather than say they disagree.

But neverthless, on a hot, dusty day, haggling may be a conversational routine that much of the world would rather avoid.