A most peculiar language
13-08-2007 08:38:37 AM
OVER A CUPPA WITH HOO BAN KHEE
ENGLISH is the most global language of all; it is used not only by the people of the former British Empire, but also by international organisations.
It is not the easiest language to master. Its spelling system is sometimes idiotic and its pronunciation, illogical. But, admittedly, it is one of the most well-developed languages in the world. Because it is so widespread, the language tends to take on a life of its own, with peculiar variations, once it has taken root in a particular nation or region that is not its country of origin.
Of course, the standard for good English is still BBC English, but that is rarely spoken today, even in London, except among upper-class people.
Elsewhere, native English rules. There is American English, which is slightly different from Australian English which, in turn, is quite different from Indian English. And none of them resembles BBC English or the Queen’s English. But the variations can be charming, even endearing, to those who speak and understand the lingo in question.
Malaysia, too, has her own variation, which we all know as Manglish. To master Manglish, you have to speak like a rapidly-firing rifle and spice up your sentences with lahs, mehs and lohs.
Not all English-speaking people can understand our brand of English. But give them time and they might just be charmed by it.
In Singapore, Singlish – as spoken by Phua Chu Kang – prevails despite Lee Kuan Yew’s tremendous efforts to promote standard English.
The Japanese, Koreans, Taiwanese and mainland Chinese tend to imitate American English, which does not go down well with South-East Asians, who speak mostly with a British accent. The feeling is mutual. While they find our English awkward, we find theirs jarring to the ear.
Frankly, Manglish is unique. Some of the common expressions we use daily are baffling to those not quite used to our style. There are instances when we are guilty of “murdering” or abusing the English language because we fail to grasp the correct meaning of certain words.
I remember a brief conversation with an old Englishwoman while I was waiting for a bus, during my short stint in London years ago. She asked me where I was going. I told her I was going “marketing” and showed her the shopping basket I was carrying.
“Oh, you mean you are going shopping,” she corrected me politely. Marketing, she added, would mean promoting and selling goods in the market.
I thanked her but deep down in my heart, I said to myself: “Hey, back home, we all go marketing every day. Anything wrong, meh?”
My other linguistic encounter was in the Lake District, England, where I once took my family for a holiday. There are beautiful lakes and picturesque hills, with quaint little hamlets and charming farmhouses, some of which have been turned into B&B-style accommodation for tourists.
We went up the meandering mountain road to soak in the panoramic views and inhale the crisp mountain air.
Later, we met a group of elderly tourists, with whom we engaged in small talk. I expressed how much we had enjoyed the refreshing view. “We even went mountain climbing!” I said excitedly.
“Oh, that’s mountain-walking. You don’t do mountain-climbing here,” one of them said pleasantly. I was rather baffled.
I later learned the difference between mountain-climbing and mountain-walking.
Malaysians are in the habit of ending a sentence with lah, mah, man, one and loh. These are local expressions assimilated into English, which give it a local flavour. The use of the words is so ingrained in us that even when we are on business trips overseas, we spill the words out spontaneously. We presume that everybody will understand what we are saying.
Not quite. Try it and if you find your listeners knitting their brows in intense concentration, trying to understand what you are trying to say, it’s time to step on the brakes.
First, slow down. Most of us speak too fast and pay little attention to pronunciation. Second, try to economise on the use of typical Malaysian words such as lah, loh and meh for the sake of the untrained ear.
However, when you are in a foreign land and feel a little homesick, it is exciting to hear Manglish. It evokes a feeling of brotherhood. You want to get closer to the people speaking it and find out more about them. Are they students, tourists or Malaysian expatriates? Hey, what are you doing here? Where is your kampung, man?
Languages evolve. We don’t write and speak the way we used to decades ago.
Along the way, we have dropped many words which we found to be unfashionable or incongruous to our present-day lifestyle. And we have coined or borrowed words that are more in tune with the times.
The language used for smses is an excellent example of this even though purists must be hopping mad with the way we corrupt the language. But then languages are living entities; they grow. We adapt and borrow words from other languages. New words are coined every day while old ones, which do not fit in, just die a natural death.
So there’s nothing wrong with our lah, loh and meh. We are just being creative. We are waiting for the day when such words are included in the Oxford Dictionary, alongside words like “amok” and “kowtow”.
Only then can we say that English is a truly global language.
