Oh ... please accuse me

Rob Goodfellow, Contributor, Beijing

Last year the People's Republic of China encouraged the "commercial celebration" of Christmas for the first time since 1949.

Armed with this new directive, one of Beijing's largest department stores got right into the spirit. Everything was plastic and electricity. Under the watchful gaze of computerized elves, rocket-sleighs hauled empty gift-wrapped boxes around a figure eight railway, through a forest of upturned green lavatory brushes.

High above the mezzanine level, suspended by wire cable, was a giant Santa nailed to a huge wooden cross! And by the look of his jolly grin apparently loving it. The banner fluttering overhead proclaimed in gold lettering -- "Mary (not Merry) X-mas".

Clearly the celebration of Christ's birth and crucifixion, the ancient European myth of Saint Nicolas and the commercialization of Christmas had been bundled up into one homogeneous extravaganza. The overweight, unshaven, old duffer used and abused by shop fitters all over the world had obviously found his way into China too. So what should we make of the festive crucifixion of good'ol Kris Kringle?

Humankind is facing unprecedented cultural convergence, from the clothes we wear, to the shape of the automobiles we drive, from systems of finance and governance, to the defacto global language we use, or often, misuse -- English. Language creates culture and culture creates reality. The problem is if language is generated in a cultural vacuum, then the end product is a like a "Good Life Boy Happy" T-shirt. This means precisely nothing. And that's the problem. The T-shirt conveys word symbols, but not meaning.

It gets worse. Take for example an advertisement for Garuda Airways from the late 1980s. This showed a stern-faced hostess, holding a plastic toy aeroplane, with the words: "As a representative of Garuda Indonesia: We have a name to invest for those being in the manifest. Therefore we always try our best that gives us our main life-vest'. In Indonesian, this sounds reassuring. In English, it conjures up a disturbing image of burning wreckage and dog-paddling survivors.

The Japanese have taken the abuse of language one step further, so that practically no one can comprehend -- in either English or Japanese, words that are presented as cultural bridges. For example, the word inflation becomes inflay, part- time worker -- paruto, elevator -- erebeitaa, boyfriend -- boifurendo, and apartment -- apaato. This is more than "word pray". It is Janglish. The Japanese have difficulty with pronouncing the English letters "L" and "R". This was highlighted when local supporters of General MacArthur's rumored campaign for the U.S. presidency declared on national radio: "we play for your erection". (Perhaps because they "rubbed him so much".)

In some countries it is the process of logic that causes confusion. An Australian wandering through a village in Taiwan asked a farmer whether he could eat some wild mushrooms. The farmer answered confidently, "Yes". Just as the young man was about to pop a red-specked mushroom into his mouth the farmer casually added, "but you will die".

Indonesians on the other hand often use English to show something is "modern". In this instance language is strictly a marketing symbol. It is the look of the words that are important. For example, one manufacturer explains that its shirts: "Taste classical, feels trended". Another, "try tomorrow with new fashion active communication. We love music and sports. Enjoy our life".

One company declares that their children's cloths are especially designed "for Sporty Youngers". Or the T-shirt Company that has the "exposed contemporary approach" based on "experiments in every state of atmosphere". Finally, a leading men's wear brand in Jakarta urges customers: "In this way one can choose the right articles so as to respond to challenging occasions which to one person can be extreme and to another quite simple".

An example of such a challenging occasion happened recently when I was lecturing in North Sumatra. The student president was called on to give a vote of thanks. The earnest young man then thanked me from "the heart of his bottom".

On the same trip I had to squeeze past a young women in the narrow laneway. She smiled sweetly and said, "oh please ... accuse me". I felt like saying: "Ok, I will! You did that on purpose", until I realized what she meant to say was, "please excuse me".

But don't be distracted; this is not my point. The last two examples are innocent mistakes, unlike the deliberate thought processes used by marketers from Beijing to Jakarta. Rather, they use the symbols of language to sell products to consumers who have little or no appreciation that the richness of a language is to be found in the culture it expresses.

As globalization continues to drive cultural convergence, we can be assured of one thing: That as long as there is distance between language and culture, this mix of inaccurate translation and inappropriate interpretation will continue, so -- please'accuse me -- as far as cynical marketing "experts" are concerned, I suspect they have little interest in getting it right, as long as the cash registers go ker-ching. (This is not strictly an English word. I made it up.)

Dr. Rob Goodfellow is the author of a number of books on cross-cultural communication. He recently completed a PhD at the University of Wollongong.