The Cunning Linguist

Not many of us have fond school-day memories of those tricky Mandarin lessons, or firm-but-fair Japanese teachers. Most UK school pupils experience modern foreign languages (MFL) as synonymous with French. Timetable constraints undoubtedly play a strong part in this, as does the necessity of standardizing subjects so pupils can move between schools relatively painlessly.

Even the introduction of a second language such as German can present difficulty; during my education I moved from an area where German lessons started in ‘Year 9’ (the year before starting GCSEs or old O-levels) to a school where lessons began in ‘Year 8’ – the year I had already done! I still have vivid memories of our enthusiastic German teacher talking to the class for the best part of an hour in German before he happened to direct a question at one of the handful of new students who shared my predicament. It wasn’t the best start, and set the tone for the rest of the year (which I hated with a passion)!

Given the enthusiasm I have since discovered for languages, I wonder how many of our young minds are driven away from subjects and skills in which they might otherwise excel by the presentation of languages in schools.

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Every time I meander over to Flickr in a tea break or research-session, and search for photographs of Korea, I am reminded quickly of the self-defeating actions of the "anti-censorship" lobby protesting on that site.

Understandably, censorship is a major point of contention in the modern world. It's an issue that warrants informed debate, and the need for this debate will become more pressing as internationalisation continues to thrive.

One of the most significant socially influential phenomenon of the 20th century was the development of mass media; rapid distribution of news stories with images and sound. From the Vietnam war onwards, it has been no longer possible to control propaganda the way it used to be (say, during the two World Wars). The internet has developed this trend even further, pushing our mutual humanity to the foreground. In our latest "war on terror", anyone with a few pounds to spend in an internet cafe can gain ready access to perspectives from allies and antagonists alike.

These global social developments harbour immense potential for the benefit of mankind. Maintaining a thirst for bloodshed is a challenge to any army in the face of this perpetual "Christmas truce" effect, and that must be a good thing.

So it disappoints me that when I visit one of the most ubiquitous photography sites on the web to see the first hand truth of Korea (north and south) I find myself confronted with a search results page full of "nicht mit uns". The anti-censorship protestors are obscuring the free distribution and easy access to information about a regime that maintains a delicate relationship with the west - all by themselves! Is this "if Korea can't see my nude photo, nobody will see Korea" move really helping the case against censorship?

I am left with the impression that some of flickr's vocal free-speech advocates value their protest above the visibility they claim to promote.

Recently, I’ve experienced a crisis of confidence with Mandarin study. This has prompted some thought on the topic of cultural difference and culture-shock. My culture-shock earlier this week seemed insurmountable until I remembered some personal experiences closer to home that provide precedents and ideas for navigating intercultural pickles.

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Tonight I've been wondering whether Mandarin really is the right language for me.

Over the past year I've met some really great, friendly and helpful native Mandarin speakers. That said, there still seems to be something missing from my Mandarin motivation. Its as though its all coming from my head, and not from my heart. And that's odd, because my first memory of being intruiged by a mysterious, fascinating foreign culture is my memory of chinese lanterns, the most delicious food I'd ever tasted, different and very polite people, red tassels and tiny Chinese paintings. It was China that first caught my imagination, when I must've been about three.

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