Polite is right

While all societies value politeness, certain behavior that is tolerated in some places may be considered rude in others. Who speaks first in a conversation? When do we give a gift or open one that we receive? Where should we sit at a dinner party? How close should we stand to the person we are talking to? Such social rules can vary quite a lot. And it is probably true to say that most Asian cultures pay more attention to social and age differences than English-speaking societies.

The different ways in which Asian societies demonstrate politeness tend to influence the way they use English. Most Thais feel it is rude to speak loudly in public, for example, and so they speak quietly in English as well as Thai. Japanese say sumimasen a lot, even when they don't feel they have done anything wrong, so not surprisingly they also say sorry very often when speaking English. One information video at Narita airport even warned travellers not to say sorry if they had a car accident in the USA in case American lawyers exploited this as an admission of their guilt.

All languages have a wide range of ways to say the same things more politely or less politely, but in many Asian languages the choice can be complex. Korean and Japanese have different sets of verbs and even nouns to indicate the relationship among speakers. At my university, for example, professors were recently advised to use polite forms when writing material to be read by students, so I had to change all the verbs in a document I had written. In Malay, the choice of pronoun depends on the relative positions of speakers. When people are not sure, they often use English pronouns such as “I” and “you”. In Javanese, the different levels of politeness are so distinct they are really separate languages.

Even greetings can be complex. Before getting to the point of a conversation, Arabs often spend a long time expressing wishes and exchanging enquiries, and since it is not easy to find cultural equivalents for Guwwa (May God give you strength) or Eshloonik (What is your colour?), such phrases are often left in Arabic when people speak English. Many Pakistani friends greet me with As-Salamu alaikum (Peace be with you) and expect me to reply Wa-alaikum salam (And also on you), but I have some Indonesian friends who think it inappropriate for non-Muslims to use such phrases.

More casual greetings around Asia include 'Have you eaten?' (the polite answer is always Yes!) and 'Where are you going?' (you don't need to reply accurately). Most languages have a set phrase for when people start to eat or go on a journey. However, there are certain experiences that some cultures acknowledge and others ignore. Japanese has a phrase used after sharing a journey or tiring experience (otsukaresama) which really has no English equivalent. Indonesians wish you Selamat mandi(Have a good bath). On the other hand, few Asian cultures acknowledge a sneeze, so ‘Bless you!’ is not often heard among Asia’s English speakers.

In one of her novels, writer Amy Tan jokes that Chinese visitors to an American home could starve. When offered food, they refuse out of politeness, expecting the offer to be repeated until eventually they accept. But their American hosts may assume they are not hungry and never ask again.

Asian students are often taught that English is a straightforward language in which people say exactly what they think. So they may be surprised to learn that most Americans are actually very polite. It may be true that many English-speaking cultures are less formal than Asian ones, but it would be wrong to suggest that English speakers are always direct. In fact it seems to me that although most Asians tend to be rather formal with strangers, with their friends they are more direct than Americans or Britons.



Conversely, visitors to Asia who expect everyone to behave politely may be surprised to get blocked by Singaporeans pushing on to the train before they can get out; or to be asked how much money they earn by Koreans!

What’s in a name?

Until fairly recently, most people around the world had only one name. Only the rich, with property to pass down, or those who travelled far from home, needed anything more than a personal name. Even today, many Indonesians go by a single name.

When Chinese started using family names these were often borrowed from their local lord. Thus whole communities in some parts of the country have the same name. For example, most people called Huang claim a connection to Huang Di, the Yellow Emperor.

While the English tended to form surnames either from their fathers’ personal name (Johnson, Richardson, Williams, Edwards) or from their profession (Carpenter, Mason, Smith), the Japanese turned to the natural environment, producing Fujibayashi (wisteria woods) Tanaka (in the middle of the field), and Yamashita (below the mountain).



It can be difficult to know which is a family name and which a personal one. Some Asian communities place personal names first, as in most European societies (Thaksin Shinawatra). Others begin with the family name (Lee Kwan Yew, Abe Shinzo). In many Muslim communities it is common to put your father’s personal name after your own personal name, but it is not the same as a family name because it changes with each generation. And so in Malaysia, Zubaidah Ibrahim is listed under Z, her personal name, and not I, the name of her father.

Even if we can distinguish personal and family names, we still need to know which one to use. Thais hardly ever use family names. They either use a personal name – Khun (Mr) Abhisit – or a nickname (Daeng = red; Yai = big; Lek = small). Sometimes I only learn the real names of Thai friends when we travel together and I see their passport.

In contrast, there are some Asian societies where personal names are rarely used. Goh Chenchuan may not mind being called Chenchuan – or even Charlie – while in America, but he may expect his colleagues to call him Mr Goh back home in Hong Kong.

Many Chinese around Southeast Asia have English personal names used alongside Chinese ones. A Singaporean child might be called Kelvin by his schoolfriends but Chun Pay by his grandmother. The practice is also spreading to Singapore’s Malays, such as actors Sharon Ismail and Aron Aziz. It is also happening in China, where many people make very imaginative choices. While there, you may meet a Jackal Chang, Apple Zhang, Weenie Wang or even Satan Han.

In many situations we have to address people whose name we don’t know. This can be difficult in English ('sir' and 'madam' may only be suitable for formal occasions), but most Asian languages have a wide range of titles, such as the Japanese terms untenshu-san (driver); sensei (teacher); onii-san (‘older brother’) or obaa-san (‘grandmother’) for people of appropriate professions or ages. These practices often get transferred when Asians speak English. For example, many Indians and Chinese call middle-aged ladies ‘aunty’ even if they have never met them before.

English villages in the British Hills

Although native and highly proficient speakers of English can be found all over Asia, many Asians seek to learn the language by immersing themselves in a ‘native-speaking’ culture. Where better than Britain, the small island where a minor Germanic tongue was gradually transformed by absorbing huge amounts of French and Latin vocabulary and then spread around the globe by commercial and naval power? But Britain is too expensive and distant for most Asians. Never mind. For Anglophile Japanese, a three-hour journey into the mountains north of Tokyo brings them to British Hills.

This impressive collection of houses, built painstakingly in various historical styles with imported materials, boasts a medieval-style hall, bedrooms where modern royalty have slept and a pub where you might run into the British ambassador. Its Latin motto is Pax per Linguam (Peace through Language).

Built in the early 1990s by the Sano Foundation (which owns several educational institutes including Kanda Foreign Languages University), the venture underwent many years of financial difficulty. But its fortunes were turned around by an American tragedy: after the 9.11 attacks many Japanese got nervous about going overseas, and flocked to a “Britain that anyone can visit without a passport.”

Despite the unintended gift from the US, John Renaldy, who runs British Hills with a discipline acquired in the army, never employs Americans. Ideally, cultural instructors, receptionists, cooks and waiters come from the UK. If there is a shortage, Australians, New Zealanders and Canadians will do. But no Americans, with their “lazy English”.

The main weekday visitors are high school students taking English courses while studying British history and customs. Weekend activities there might include anything from seminars for businessmen to calligraphy classes for housewives. Or even weddings.

Over in Korea, another cultural transplant is facing its own decisions about how to make a profit. English Village is less than an hour north of Seoul, close to the DMZ. It too has gone for a British theme, with a model of Stonehenge outside its castle-like gates. But here you do need a ‘passport’. Built by Gyeongi province for local schoolchildren, but now looking to broaden its income base, English Village encourages visitors to use English by creating the illusion that they really are going abroad, with a ‘check-in counter’ at the entrance, coffee shops staffed by Romanians (well, they probably speak better English than most visitors) and even a branch of a Korean bank with English signs and English-speaking counter clerks. The typical visitors are high school students on ten-day courses taught by foreigners. There are also day-trippers seeking an educational theme park.

Just as the creators of English Village made countless trips to British Hills to get ideas (“They still come,” sighs John), educators from around Korea turn up in Gyeongi to see what they might learn. When he was president, Roh Moo-hyun announced plans for a huge English village on Jeju Island as a “substitute for overseas English study trips.” Internationally famous Koreans such as Manchester United’s Park Ji Sung were employed to publicise the project.

Behind these attempts to recreate ‘English culture’ is a genuine belief that Asians should not have to cross the globe, often at considerable financial hardship, to immerse themselves in English. But some believe they will never provide more than superficial cultural experiences, much like Thames Town, a pastiche of an English village being built near Shanghai for very rich Chinese wanting an ‘English lifestyle’ without any intention of speaking English. Meanwhile poor but studious Chinese continue to practise their English with each other at the ‘English corners’ which spring up in large parks everywhere at weekends.

Funny in English - or just funny English?

At home in Tokyo recently, I received a phone call from a lady wanting to sell me a burial plot. I replied (in Japanese) that, as a foreigner, I would return to my country when I felt like dying. She praised me for being so practical, we both laughed and the short conversation ended pleasantly. Later that day I bought an ice cream from a convenience store. Handing over my money, I told the sales assistant “Please don’t bother to heat it up for me.” The result: a puzzled stare. Sometimes humour works, and sometimes it doesn’t.

Humour is less likely to succeed when people have different language backgrounds. We need a good command of grammar and vocabulary both to make and to understand jokes in another language – if we have to think, or ask for an explanation, the humour disappears. Also, we need to know when it is appropriate to use humour. Japanese, for example, tend to be rather serious with strangers (only foreigners make jokes in Tokyo convenience stores), whereas Indonesians have few such inhibitions. Another problem is that it may be difficult to know when someone from a different culture is joking. Many Australians and Britons, for example, prefer ‘dry’ humour and keep a straight face when joking.

Few comedians work in foreign countries. Japanese Ogata Issey has given performances in London and New York, but using Japanese with English subtitles and relying on visual jokes. On the other hand, Mark Rowswell, a Canadian who is very fluent in Chinese, is famous throughout China as Da Shan (‘Big Mountain’), a performer of a traditional form of comedy known as Xiangsheng

A recent Japanese TV show took up the theme of cross-cultural humour. Local comedy duo Obeikaa performed for bilingual youngsters from an international school. Then, a Japan-based Australian, Chad Mullane, performed before them in Japanese. Mullane got more laughs, but it wasn‘t a fair competition since his Japanese was much better than Obeikaa’s English.

Teacher-trainer Luke Prodromou has studied how English native speakers bend language to demonstrate cultural solidarity with each other. For example, they may describe light rain as ‘kittens and puppies’ (instead of ‘cats and dogs’, a typical expression for heavy rain). Yet when non-native speakers try to bend English, native speakers often think they have made a mistake. So when one British teacher said “You can say that again!” (meaning ‘I completely agree with you’) and her non-native colleague joked back “Ok, I’ll say it again”, the Briton thought she had been misunderstood. When I was in Seoul I saw a shop called Buy the way. To me it was clear that the shopkeeper was playing with the words by and buy. But my friend thought it was a spelling mistake.

Of course some funny English is a mistake. I don’t think humour was intended by the Indian hotel that announced “No one is stranger here” or the Iraqi hotel notice that said “No consummation whatever may take place in this foyer.” As a foreigner in Japan I am constantly causing humour without intention. Trying to tell my students that a judge had given a decision in court (hanketsu wo kudasaimashita) , I actually said hanketsu wo dashimashita (he showed half of his bottom).

Skill in humour is an indication of having made a language one’s own. www.talkingcock.com is a website run by people who are fluent in standard Singaporean English (which is similar to British English) but fascinated by Singlish, the colourful mix of English, Hokkien and Malay spoken in the streets but discouraged by the government. When a trailer for their film, Talkingcock.com –The Movie, was banned because of its use of ‘bad English’, they remade it with exactly the same words but spoken in a very posh British accent. This made the new trailer even funnier.

Cross-talk

After spending years mastering the sounds, grammar and vocabulary of a language, we expect to be able to communicate successfully. But communication depends not only on recognising words, but on understanding the various meanings that speakers attach to them. It can even depend on silence.

If a man’s wife simply tells him “Tomorrow’s Tuesday,” for instance, it may be enough for him to understand she is reminding him to put out the rubbish. But if speakers don’t know each other very well, they may require more specific communication.

Interestingly, communication is sometimes easier between non-native speakers because they tend to avoid ambiguous or culturally-specific expressions. Conversely, people sharing the same first language may think they understand each other when in fact they don’t. If a Briton makes a joke, a Californian may think he is serious (or boring, or strange); black and white Americans can listen to the same politician’s speech but hear different messages. This kind of misunderstanding is cross-talk: speakers talk across each other rather than to each other.

In general, however, the risk of cross-talk is higher when speakers have different language backgrounds because of cultural differences. For example, many East Asians avoid direct refusals when speaking to strangers. I once interpreted for an American friend trying to sell artwork in Japan. If someone said Kentou shimasu or Ocha wa ikaga deshou ka”, it didn’t help him if I simply translated this as “We’ll look into this” and “How about some tea?” I had to explain that they were probably saying “No thank you”.

There is plenty of advice available for people visiting and

doing business in Asian countries. But it tends to contain
sweeping generalisations, such as ‘Politeness is very
important to Thais ” or ‘Chinese people hate to lose face.
As American Rachel DeWoskin found when she starred in a
Chinese TV drama (Foreign Babes in Beijing, 2005.),
no one, in China or elsewhere, likes to lose face.

Language classes generally include some kind of cultural information. But people can be very vague about what they mean by culture. It covers superficial and obvious differences such as how people greet each other and what they eat, but also differences about how people see the world that may be deep-seated and hard to change. US psychologist Richard Nisbett even claims that the different educational practices of Asia and the West produce different ways of reasoning (The Geography of Thought: How Asians and Westerners Think Differently... and Why, 2003). Moreover, teachers of English find it especially difficult to teach culture because the language is used by people from so many different countries.

We can’t learn the cultural norms of everyone who uses English. But we can increase our awareness of the causes of communication. Even before opening our mouths, for example, we should think about body language. Do we maintain eye contact? Is it okay to touch someone? When on the phone should we listen quietly or continually make noises so that the other person knows we are still there? If we talk loudly will people think we are confident, or rude? Li Yang, a popular English educator in China, tells learners to speak foreign languages as loudly and quickly as possible in order to lose their shyness. But for some people, his Crazy English may sound …well… crazy.

And what about the conversational topic? A Korean magazine recently warned against discussing marriage, relationships, health, age, religion or money with Americans, even though these are acceptable topics in Korea. So what areas are safe? The weather? Family? Most Asians love to discuss food, but whereas Singaporeans never tire of this subject, Pakistanis may find you superficial if you don’t soon move on to something deeper.

Conferring and conferencing

While there are obvious connections linking the Muslim societies of the west of Asia, or those in the east that have Buddhist and Confucian traditions, there are few strong links across the whole continent. While pan-Asian identity remains weak, new Asian networks are gradually evolving through the work of international bodies based in Asian cities. Many of these function largely in English. UNESCAP (the Bangkok-based United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific), for example, requires staff to be fluent in English. SAARC (the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation) holds all its meetings in English.

As well as helping to construct Asian identity, English also plays an important role in conflict resolution between Asian countries. Israeli leaders usually speak to their Arab counterparts in English since fewer and fewer of them study Arabic and almost no Arabs speak Hebrew. Indian and Pakistani army generals hold their discussions in English, even though their respective national languages (Hindi and Urdu) are very similar.


ASEAN (the Association of South East Asian Nations) is one of Asia’s most active organisations. When it was formed in 1967, there was a proposal to make Malay its working language since it is spoken in four of its founder states (Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore and Brunei). 30 years later there was an attempt to make Malay its second language. Neither succeeded. In practice the organisation has always conducted business in English.

ASEAN is starting to develop its own style of English, rich in bureaucratic acronyms such as HOGs (Heads of Government), HOSs (Heads of State) and IMT-TG (Indonesian Malaysian-Thai Growth Triangle). However, if we search through ASEAN speeches and literature we can find very few uniquely ‘Asian’ words or expressions.

Leaders of several Asian countries, including Malaysia, the Philippines and the Subcontinent, have traditionally known English as well as or even better than their own national language. Sri Lanka’s S.L. Bandaranaike, Pakistan’s General Zia and Malaysia’s Dr Mahathir, for example, became famous for promoting Sinhala, Urdu and Malay respectively, yet in private mostly used English. Singapore’s first leader, Lee Kuan Yew, was educated in English and didn’t learn Chinese until he was an adult. Many of Israel’s leaders, including the late Golda Meir and the current prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu, were educated mostly in the USA. Thailand’s current leader, Abhisit Vejjajiva, went to Oxford University.

Other Asian leaders have tried to learn English later in life. Jiang Zemin
was too old to become fluent, but his efforts encouraged younger Chinese
leaders to study the language. Even Iran’s Mahmood Ahmedinejad, a fierce critic of American culture and politics, has an English blog www. Ahmadinejad.ir/) for people from all over the world to exchange messages about politics. Not surprisingly, most of these messages say what a wonderful leader Ahmedinejad is and what a terrible country the USA is.

But not every Asian leader makes effective use of English The poor English of Korea’s Kim Young Sam was the source of many jokes. And few of Japan’s leaders have been able to conduct conversations in English. When Japanese premier Yoshiro Mori met US President Bill Clinton, he managed to say "Who are you?" instead of "How are you?". Thinking this must be a joke, Clinton joked back "I'm Hillary's husband". Mori replied “Me too.”

Asian Englishes

In the last topic we saw that there is evidence that Asians often understand each other's English better than that of Americans or Britons. I find this quite interesting, given that there are so many different kinds of English spoken in Asia.

Even as a non-Asian, I can easily tell whether someone is from the Philippines or Thailand or the Indian Subcontinent when they talk English. Locals can do much better than me, of course. Most Malaysians and Singaporeans can tell each other's English apart. Malaysians can tell whether someone is from the East or West of their country and whether they have a Malay, Chinese or Indian background.

Since 1998, the Tokyo-based journal Asian Englishes (http://www.alc.co.jp/asian-e/) has published many articles about the rich and well-established Englishes of Southeast and South Asia (but fewer about northeast Asia, where English tends to be used as a foreign rather than a first or second language). It is not surprising that Asia's great linguistic and cultural diversity is reflected in its English. But I wonder if there is anything distinctly 'Asian' that links Asian Englishes? Is it possible that Korean and Pakistani English have more in common with each other than with Russian English, for instance?

As far as pronunciation is concerned, many Asians avoid clusters of consonants since these are rare in Asian languages. So they add vowels (Sri Lankan children attend 'ischool') or drop consonants (when Cantonese say they feel 'so cold' the two words rhyme). However, similar features are also found in many non-Asian Englishes.

What about grammar? As mentioned before, Indians tend to favour the progressive aspect of verbs ('I am not understanding you') , and this tendency can also be found among some Malaysians and Filipinos. Tags like 'will you?' and 'didn't they?' are simplified all over Asia, with Singaporeans preferring 'isn't it?' or even 'ah?', and Sri Lankans using 'no?'. The verb 'to be' and many pronouns are often omitted ('He so lazy', 'Can afford?'). And the active voice is frequently used instead of the passive ('Vitamin A can find in carrots'). But again, similar practices can be found outside Asia.

As for vocabulary, it is more likely to divide than unite Asian English speakers. Words originating in Britain or America get new local meanings, so in Sri Lanka an abbot is a maid and a basketwoman is a talkative one. Some words are borrowed from local languages, especially for food (balut in the Philippines) and clothing (sari and dhoti in India). Others are taken from the languages of the various Europeans who once colonised Asia: thus Philippines English is littered with Spanish words like barrio (neighbourhood), merrienda (afternoon tea) and estafa (corruption).

Many Asian English words and expressions are entirely new. Hence Malaysians call their badminton players shuttlers. A project about to be implemented in India is said to be 'on the anvil' (in the UK it would be 'on the cards'). Sri Lankans describe the increasing participation of monks in politics as saffronisation (because of the colour of Buddhist robes).

In fact there are some words that appear in many Asian Englishes, such as Malay terms like amok and arrack that have travelled to India and beyond, and expressions used by British-trained administrators such as to gazette (to publish a new regulation) that are hardly used in Britain itself. Muslims across the continent include Arabic expressions such as syolat (prayer) in their English, much as Buddhists include Sanskrit words. But in general, the main thing Asian Englishes have in common is their sheer diversity.