It’s been a strange month—even by my standards.  This month I’ve sat through an entire dinner conducted in Arabic, held countless conversations in Japanese, and then studied for and took my Korean language exam (aka “the yearly beating”).  My brain hurts, I think—not my head—my brain!  And yet, there’s something about the process of learning foreign languages that strikes a chord deep within me.  

Those of you who know me are aware I’ve spent a lot of time learning foreign languages over the years.  I studied German in high school, then Arabic and a little Hebrew in college, followed by Korean, Japanese, and a rather short-lived and feeble attempt at Dari while in the Army.  In the course of each of these endeavors, it seemed I reached a point at which I was no longer just learning a language, but rather beginning to understand another culture, gaining insight into how another group of people from a very dissimilar background thinks and conceives of the world around them.

Webster defines “language” as:  a body of words and the systems for their use common to a people who are of the same community or nation, the same geographical area, or the same cultural tradition.  This has to be one of the best definitions for the word I’ve ever run across as it concisely captures the linkage between language and culture.  It nods toward the importance placed upon language as a necessary component of any culture.  While this is certainly true of modern sub-cultures like the military as well (got an acronym anyone?), I’m writing of “culture” here today in the broader sense, as applied by anthropologists to the distinct groups of people inhabiting our planet past and present.

Like most elements of our own culture, we don’t generally spend much time dwelling on it.  We take it for granted that the way we do things and the way we think is just the way people around the world do them and think as well.  I’ve touched on the invisibility of one’s own culture in previous posts, and so won’t go down that rabbit hole again.  But in case you’ve never really thought about language that way before, as a component of culture, let’s break it down a bit. 

In anthropological terms, “culture” is defined as:  the sum total of ways of living built up by a group of human beings and transmitted from one generation to another.  Consider, for a second, what that means, though I’ll admit it’s the “transmitted” part I’m most interested in.  How exactly do you transmit anything to anybody—much less through multiple generations—if you can’t communicate?  Sure, to a certain degree you always expect the younger generations to mimic or emulate the behaviors of their elders, and this can, admittedly, be done without any verbal or written form of communication.  However, when it comes to passing shared values—including religious and ethical values—a means or system of communication becomes essential. 

We break human systems of communication into identifiable languages and language groups.  Language groups generally branch out like a family tree with a base parent language often sprouting several others.  This becomes quite complicated, of course, because these “new” languages don’t develop or evolve in a vacuum, but are often affected by other “old” languages distinct from the parent.  German is a great example as the original proto-German language spoken by the Teutones invading Italy in 109 BC received a significant Latin injection before going through transitions into Old High German, Middle German, and finally New High German evolutions to eventually form the language I studied in High School.  Were I to somewhere, somehow encounter that original language, it’s doubtful I would even recognize it as German at all.

English is a further development of that German-Latin hybrid and as such, may be one of the world’s youngest languages.  The addition of a healthy dose of French influence completes the basic make-up of our language—and for all time ensured that spelling would be problematic for young children and foreign students!  Still, look at how many types of English are spoken today.  It’s different—and not just in pronunciation—in the U.K., U.S., Australia, and India to name but a few places the language is prominent.  Don’t believe me?  Would you like to let out an apartment, ride a lift, or perhaps go to the loo?  Yet it’s important to understand that no matter how different today’s multiple versions of English may seem, all sprouted from the same German base.  Specifically, English developed primarily from the shared root language spoken by three peoples known as the Angles, the Saxons, and the Jutes.  These Germans had already begun filling the political vacuum forming in the British Isles at the time of the Roman withdrawal in 383 AD.

Nor is this a unique situation.  In Northeast Asia, for instance, Korean and Japanese share a common parent language and are considered to be part of the “Altaic” language group.  The Altaic group of languages was originally used in Mongolia and the eastern reaches of what is now Russia.  The language group includes, interestingly enough, Turkish, which only really makes sense if you understand that the original homeland of the Turks was in Central Asia . . . butting up against the Mongols, perhaps the very worst of rowdy neighbors!

For this reason, the grammar rules of the two languages are nearly identical.  Listen to the two and you may not think that’s in any way possible, but it’s true nonetheless.  Both languages were heavily influenced by Chinese, though oddly in different ways, while Japanese received a final linguistic “assist” from Southeast Asia through the RyuKyu islands (present day Okinawa) completing the differences and setting each on its own unique developmental arc.

But it doesn’t stop there.  North Korean defectors reportedly have a very difficult time adjusting to life in South Korea.  One of the primary issues, they say, is getting used to the language spoken in the South.  In addition to learning the three separate dialects in use there (in a country the size of Indiana!) the Korean spoken in the South has, unsurprisingly over the recent decades, received an injection of American English.  Add to this the fact that Korean spoken in the South has kept up with changes in worldwide technology and information—in a way unknown in the North—and you have a situation where in the span of just 75 years of separation, Korean may already be branching into separate languages.  This rapid evolution is changing how those who study the development of languages see their field, as this process has always been presumed to take much, much longer.

All this to say, perhaps, that when you look at how languages develop over time, you can’t help but come to the conclusion that any study of another language necessarily comes with a healthy dose of cultural study as well.  The English phrase “The walls have ears” indicating a need for discretion has a Korean equivalent in “The birds listen in the day and the mice at night.”  Similarly, while in English we speak of someone oblivious to the mood in the room, the Japanese speak of someone who “Can’t read the air.”  These phrases make little sense if translated literally, they being expressions passed down through countless generations, highlighting that the simple memorization of foreign vocabulary and grammar rules will never be enough to achieve true understanding of another language … or another people.

And that’s what it’s all about, right?  The reason why I shuffle through endless piles of 3x5 flashcards is so that I can better understand the mechanics of language.  The reason why I study history and culture is so that I can understand the context within which that language developed and is utilized.  It’s important to understand that context, that historical and cultural canvas upon which any language is written, spoken, sung, rapped, rhymed, or even danced.  Language is a component—I’d go so far as to say the key component—in any culture, and so in order to fully comprehend the former, time must be spent gaining an appreciation for and understanding of the latter.

And so, with my Japanese proficiency test looming at the end of next month, I have a short breather before I have to pull out another set of flashcards and empty another shelf of textbooks.  A couple weeks to relax, maybe write a little, and enjoy thinking, speaking and, yes, dreaming, in my native language before every waking hour becomes filled with Japanese TV shows and movies, review, and practice. 

Still, painful as it sometimes seems, I know that the study of language—of culture in general—is never wasted effort.  That the more I understand how others communicate and thus think, the greater insight I gain into my own thought patterns and ways of processing information.  And that insight is invaluable. 

The sculptors working on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi in the 4th Century BC inscribed “Know Thyself” into the marble of that eminent structure.  It was good advice 2,400 years ago.  It’s good advice today.

M. G. Haynes