Malay Spoken Here. That sign in the title may not be written anywhere, but approach the shop, browse around and enquire a thing or two. After a while the shopkeeper will urge you to buy.
"Oh, from Malaysa. Apa kabar."
"Belilah. Murah saja."
"Enam Ribu Won."
Yes, that conversation was in the Itaewon district, a well-known shopping area in downtown Seoul. That conversation also bears testimony to the shopping penchant of most Malaysians, Malays especially. Well, it is good for the economy.
In addition we might say trade is also a way for a language to expand, and to some extent, we see that taking place. The language, albeit a broken one, is spoken at almost every shopping or market place Nakamora has been to. Of course, the level of conversation is limited to low level transactions such as souvenir shopping, but everything has a beginning, and every beginning usually is a humble one, isn't it? The influence of toursim on language cannot be ignored.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Jeju - The Honeymoon Island
It's not always you get the opportunity to get to Jeju, Republic of Korea - the honeymoon island. One, it is because you have had your honeymoon elsewhere. Two, getting there and stay there for a holiday can eat a chunk of whatever disposable income you have.
He was there many years ago. A beautiful island, the shape of a potato. Just months ago he got another chance to be there, on business trip too. Hence there was an element of cost-sharing between his own pocket and the business concern. Since mixing business with pleasure is not a sin, he extended his stay for an extra day or two.
The trip this time was a stark difference from previously in most aspects. The host, in last trip, took the trouble to purposely include sightseeing as part of the unofficial agenda. This time around, it was not so. Thus Nakamora has to be 'unguided.' But that was not strange to him. He likes to explore and discover. Explore and discover he did. But the discovery was not that pleasant, unfortunately.
Most of the taxi drivers do not speak the language of tourism. Most of the interesting spots are indicated in English in the map. Show that to a taxi, and the driver has no idea where and what it is.
To get to Bagdad Cafe, a joint written as a halal eating place, Nakamora has to get a staff manning the Tourist Information counter at the airport to write it down in Korean on a piece of paper. This is to be shown to the taxi driver. Apparently, he was not the first one using that approach. Other tourists, travelling independently, did the same.
Perhaps to see jeju, one needs to join organized tour, or else, plan the trip well in advance and get to the tourist information counter to get everything written for the taxi driver.
He was there many years ago. A beautiful island, the shape of a potato. Just months ago he got another chance to be there, on business trip too. Hence there was an element of cost-sharing between his own pocket and the business concern. Since mixing business with pleasure is not a sin, he extended his stay for an extra day or two.
The trip this time was a stark difference from previously in most aspects. The host, in last trip, took the trouble to purposely include sightseeing as part of the unofficial agenda. This time around, it was not so. Thus Nakamora has to be 'unguided.' But that was not strange to him. He likes to explore and discover. Explore and discover he did. But the discovery was not that pleasant, unfortunately.
Most of the taxi drivers do not speak the language of tourism. Most of the interesting spots are indicated in English in the map. Show that to a taxi, and the driver has no idea where and what it is.
To get to Bagdad Cafe, a joint written as a halal eating place, Nakamora has to get a staff manning the Tourist Information counter at the airport to write it down in Korean on a piece of paper. This is to be shown to the taxi driver. Apparently, he was not the first one using that approach. Other tourists, travelling independently, did the same.
Perhaps to see jeju, one needs to join organized tour, or else, plan the trip well in advance and get to the tourist information counter to get everything written for the taxi driver.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Seesaw
When I was little I used to see kids playing seesaw by the playgrounds. The ends of the seesaw normally are so worn out. The grass there are trampled upon all the times. Modern seesaw that I saw put enough asphalt around the area to maintain the nice looks.
What I hate most is when I have to oversee my little brothers playing seesaw. Once one is above the other tried very hard to rise as well. Using every means including reducing body weight by exhaling air out, kicking the ground to push him up even though that is out of the rule of the game, etc. Then, the game continued. One went up, the other went down, as both can't be up at the same time. As the overseer I suffered. My head has to be turned left and right and up and down, so that I can see where they are. How I was very happy and relieved when they eventually both got hungry and asked me to take them home.
Nakamora just listened. He knew his friend likes to ramble. He doesn't care whether Nakamora has any idea at all about he said...
What I hate most is when I have to oversee my little brothers playing seesaw. Once one is above the other tried very hard to rise as well. Using every means including reducing body weight by exhaling air out, kicking the ground to push him up even though that is out of the rule of the game, etc. Then, the game continued. One went up, the other went down, as both can't be up at the same time. As the overseer I suffered. My head has to be turned left and right and up and down, so that I can see where they are. How I was very happy and relieved when they eventually both got hungry and asked me to take them home.
Nakamora just listened. He knew his friend likes to ramble. He doesn't care whether Nakamora has any idea at all about he said...
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Just Ask Why
Everyone is familiar with the five Ws and one H. Well, almost everyone.
His friend starts mumbling again; and all Nakamora has to do is listen and comment when appropriate. That is the basis of their friendship. So, he listens.
When I was small I was asked only one question by my father: why. Why this, why that, why not this, why not that. Yes, it is just one question, the same one, but different materials; and I have to answer or made up the answers. After all he wouldn't know as long as the answer seemed logical. The hard part of course is in knowing what is logical and what is not, and to follow through my previous answer. Sometimes I was trapped by my own answer when his follow-up question is combined with my previous answer, and it did not sound right.
Can you give an example, asked Nakamora.
Why is the sky blue? I can answer it is because of the reflection of the ocean. He would then asked, why is it red in the afternoon or morning when the ocean is not changing color? See what I mean? How would I answer that?
Hmm.. your father must have been using the Socratic method to teach you.
I don't know that. Perhaps your father learned of the method too.
Not likely, he said. My father is not the educated kind.
Then, he must have discovered that independently of Socrates.
Perhaps...
His friend starts mumbling again; and all Nakamora has to do is listen and comment when appropriate. That is the basis of their friendship. So, he listens.
When I was small I was asked only one question by my father: why. Why this, why that, why not this, why not that. Yes, it is just one question, the same one, but different materials; and I have to answer or made up the answers. After all he wouldn't know as long as the answer seemed logical. The hard part of course is in knowing what is logical and what is not, and to follow through my previous answer. Sometimes I was trapped by my own answer when his follow-up question is combined with my previous answer, and it did not sound right.
Can you give an example, asked Nakamora.
Why is the sky blue? I can answer it is because of the reflection of the ocean. He would then asked, why is it red in the afternoon or morning when the ocean is not changing color? See what I mean? How would I answer that?
Hmm.. your father must have been using the Socratic method to teach you.
I don't know that. Perhaps your father learned of the method too.
Not likely, he said. My father is not the educated kind.
Then, he must have discovered that independently of Socrates.
Perhaps...
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Receding Mist
Mornings used to give refreshing sights around the place. So as after raining. Looking through his window Nakamora can see mist hanging in the air, almost blanketing the top half of that little mountain, adding welcoming contrast to the greens around it. The clear sky looks happy too with the mist around. Nice paintings indeed; a lively one that comforts the eyes.It did not take long before modern machinery, driven by modern men with capitalist instinct, tore down the painting. The mist is receding. Soon it would be gone altogether. It can no longer be at the place it used to hang around. Men has claimed it to be theirs.
The morning scenery is now something else. There is still contrast, but an irritating one. It is unfortunately a typical picture that can be seen anywhere in the country. The onslaught of development is painting the same picture everywhere. A picture painted not by needs, but by greed. He tried to place the need in men that lead to that destruction in Maslow's pyramid of needs, but failed. There must be some other motivators...
Friday, April 24, 2009
Do Not Give Up...
He must be a Pakistani. Where does he stay, how long has he been selling that, where does he get all the wares he is peddling around?
That guy, with the bags of local version of the potato chips, made of a mixture of flour and fish, must be local. That boy, going from table to table, with a receipt book in one hand and a laminated A4-size document on the other, must also be a local.
Almost every time when Nakamora is at the restaurant the Pakistani and the local potato chip guys are there doing their rounds. The boy, or some other boy doing the same kind of thing, is there only occasionally. Perhaps similar sights can be seen at other eating places too.
This particular night, however, Nakamora bought something from that Pakistani guy. Normally Nakamora only responded with a smile as the guy approaches his table with overtures inviting him to exchange his money with the goods. It has been like so for countless times; but the guy never gives up. It seems that to the guy, every time is the first time. Well, perseverance pays. If you do it often enough, there would be time when it pays off. After many trips, many encounters, the guy succeeded in making Nakamora parts with his money.
That guy, with the bags of local version of the potato chips, made of a mixture of flour and fish, must be local. That boy, going from table to table, with a receipt book in one hand and a laminated A4-size document on the other, must also be a local.
Almost every time when Nakamora is at the restaurant the Pakistani and the local potato chip guys are there doing their rounds. The boy, or some other boy doing the same kind of thing, is there only occasionally. Perhaps similar sights can be seen at other eating places too.
This particular night, however, Nakamora bought something from that Pakistani guy. Normally Nakamora only responded with a smile as the guy approaches his table with overtures inviting him to exchange his money with the goods. It has been like so for countless times; but the guy never gives up. It seems that to the guy, every time is the first time. Well, perseverance pays. If you do it often enough, there would be time when it pays off. After many trips, many encounters, the guy succeeded in making Nakamora parts with his money.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
