Tuesday, 19 June 2012

So, this is what illiteracy feels like


One question I’m often asked is how I’ve been getting along with the Vietnamese language. Considering I started taking lessons almost immediately after I arrived in Saigon, my Vietnamese is not as good as it should be. I can complete everyday tasks, like ordering food, bargaining for a xe om, shopping at the market, and texting my maid. I can engage in simple, polite conversations with strangers, but my limited vocabulary means I routinely - accidentally or deliberately - tell outright lies. On a good day, I can be the quasi-competent interpreter for my visiting Australian friends. On a bad day, the lady from the corner store hands me a kilo of watermelon seeds when I thought I had asked for tomatoes. 

Thanks to decades of national literacy campaigns since 1945, Viet Nam currently has a literacy rate of 93% - far higher than its developing neighbours, Laos and Cambodia. My work here often takes me to rural communities in the Mekong Delta and communities in poor urban districts of Saigon, and in my experience, even among the low-skilled and vulnerable you rarely encounter a Vietnamese person who cannot read or write. So, when I struggle to fill in a form, read a payment notice, or comprehend simple directions, it gives me a fleeting insight into what it must feel like to be part of that illiterate 7% of Viet Nam. Actually, worse than an illiterate. More like an illiterate deaf-mute. Bumbling through daily tasks. Dependent on my colleagues and friends for translations. Possessing the vocabulary of a small child. Deaf to the cacophony of conversations going on around me. Clueless as to why people are laughing or shouting at me. It’s a somewhat humbling feeling.

But, as with every challenge, you find ways to adapt. Here's how I've been surviving in Viet Nam as an illiterate:


Think Chinese

 

Caveat: Obviously, this only works  if you already speak Chinese and/or languages that have sino-roots.

Wikipedia tells me that Hán Việt, elements in the Vietnamese language derived from Chinese, account for about 60% of the Vietnamese vocabulary. Certainly, I find that a stroll down the streets of Saigon can sometimes be like a game of Sino-Viet Bingo. 

The Vietnamese word for ‘woman’: N
The Chinese word for ‘woman’:(nǚ)



The Vietnamese word for ‘passport’: hộ chiếu
The Chinese word for ‘passport’: (Hù Zhào).
Trust me, they sound similar enough…

A Chinese-Australian friend recently described a conversation she had with her mother where she was struggling to explain the type of work she was doing in Vietnam. “I didn’t know the word for 'development' in Chinese…so I said it in Vietnamese, mangled the tones a little. And, mum understood!”

It is important to note, however, that most of these Hán Việt words are rarely found in conversational Vietnamese. Back in the day, literary Chinese was used in Vietnamese government administration, and thus sino-root words are mainly found in terms relating to science, politics, education, and philosophy. I find solace in this fact: this is clearly why my Vietnamese isn't better despite my sino-language advantage.


Google-Translate it


I wouldn't usually rely on google-translate under normal circumstances. I've no doubt that google-translate is to blame for most, if not all, of this. But, sometimes google-translate is all you've got. And frankly, if my housemates and I were able to negotiate our new tenants' agreement with our Vietnamese landlord, communicating only via google-translate, then google-translate can't be all bad.

Artist/designer, Candy Chang, puts it better than I ever could. Read her short post here

 

Mime and Gesticulations


No explanation needed here. Mime and gesticulation are universal whenever you travel to a place where you don’t speak the language. My favourites include miming for insect repellant (slapping and scratching your arms and legs whilst complementing your performance with mosquito sound effects) and miming for directions to the local swimming pool (doing breast-stroke, back-stroke and free-style whilst sitting on your motorbike).
 

Real-life Pictionary


The scenario: My housemates and I wanted to purchase a hammock for our rooftop terrace.

The problem: It is, in fact, very difficult to mime the word "hammock." You try it. Seriously. Go on. Turn to the person next to you and, without words, do your best impersonation of a hammock. Did they understand?  No?  Then I've made my point. [If they did understand your hammock mime, then you are both freaks (or liars), and now go outside and try miming that word "hammock" to a complete stranger.]

The solution:


A scrap piece of paper + my mad Pictionary skills + 10 minutes at our local market



Dreams do come true


When you don't speak the language, getting anything done in this country - no matter how minor - is a huge victory worthy of celebration.