A Goulash guy in foggy London
If you ever go to Hungary, and you happen to ask someone about a restaurant where exceptional goulash soup is served, don’t be surprised if 8.5 people out of 10 reply, “I don’t speak English” (even if they do). The reason is not related to our average IQ, which is fortunately relatively high, but it’s based on our Eastern European bringing-up.
In Hungary people are very shy and inhibited thanks to 40 years of strict Communist breeding. We have been taught to keep quiet and we are very good at this. Even today, a couple of generations later, it’s still coded in our genes and it is a difficult task to laugh and enjoy something without asking permission before doing it.
In our schools the expectations are very high. If you cannot pronounce the “th” sound perfectly by pinching your tongue with your teeth, you fail and go to jail.
No, just kidding, but it’s still not easy to pass English exams.
Teachers compliment-wise are very stingy. They usually don’t say anything laudatory, as it would be harmful pedagogically (based on Russian scientific researches from the 70s, which we have to take really seriously).
If you want to have a certificate in English in Hungary, prepare for the worst – you have to talk about the blue jay’s ritual dancing habits or paraphrase the rules of Malay football in English, subjects that you’ve never heard of in your life and probably you couldn’t say a word about even in Hungarian.
For this reason when a typical Hungarian goes to a different country, it is a challenge to her/him to start speaking confidently in the language of the country she/he visits. We always can see the little guy in the black jump-suit with the pitchfork on our left shoulder, saying, “Don’t even think about saying anything, your pronounciation is horrible, you might even hurt someone.”
Don’t be afraid, the little guy is wrong, take courage and speak!
Zsolt
Turku – Europe’s Culture Capital 2011
Since 1985, the Council of the European Union has annually chosen a European Capital of Culture, to “highlight the richness and diversity of European cultures”, and to “bring people from different European countries into contact with each other’s culture”. My Finnish hometown of Turku, nestled in the midst of the picturesque archipelago of some 10,000 islands in the Baltic Sea is, along with the beautiful medieval town of Tallinn in Estonia, the European Capital of Culture for 2011.
And what an exciting year it has already been for Turku. Commencing with a spectacular opening ceremony, involving flying dance troupes, hundreds of lantern-bearing school children and a 350-strong choir parading the cobbled streets of Finland’s oldest town, Turku’s 2011 cultural calendar has embraced thousands of individual events, performances and productions.
The individual events have ranged from the beautifully ethereal exhibition 876 Shades of Darkness, contemplating the long dark nights of the Finnish soul, to the alfresco performances of the Opera d’Alvilda in Abo, an Italian opera written in 1692, being performed in the grounds of the imposing Turku Castle.
Historically Turku has embraced culture in all its forms, whether it be through a vibrant music scene centred around two annual music festivals occupying the town centre and nearby island of Ruissalo, or the numerous art and archaeological museums and impressive number of amateur theatres (I counted 13).
This tradition of theatrical performance in Turku is embodied in the rather bulky 60s concrete façade of the much-loved municipal theatre. Offering productions of both homespun and international favourites, the theatre’s Anna Karenina has been extremely well received this year, earning accolades like the prestigious Thalia award for the 2011 Best Theatrical Performance.
Every summer, the spirits of the medieval possess the cobbled streets of Turku’s old town with the Medieval Market fair that habitually attracts around 100,000 visits over four days. Re-enacting everyday street life as as it might have been lived in the alleyways and squares of medieval Turku, this entertaining and informative fair arrives every year, complete with rope twisting competitions, fearful knights and mischievous jesters (see here for a photo album – click on the links on the left to view more pictures).
At the sympathetically restored and historic quayside, an old waterside factory now houses productions by the internationally acclaimed modern dance group Aurinkobaletti.
Next door, the prestigious (and always oversubscribed by aspiring undergraduates) Turku Academy of Art overlooks the symbolic heart of the city, the river Aura. The adjacent city ferry “Föri” takes passengers on a cultural voyage across the river: its distinctive yellow deck has acted as the setting for more than one art performance in the 90 seconds it takes to cross the river.
The 2011 European Capital of Culture award has stimulated Turku’s cultural heritage in new and novel ways, as the variety and sheer volume of productions and performances are acting to bring a new flavour, as well as a renewed vigour, to an already rich cultural landscape.
We must not forget that Turku and Tallinn will pass the mantle of the European Capital of Culture to the towns of Guimarães and Maribor in 2012, and all Turku residents would urge their fellow Europeans to embrace the fascinating cultures of these towns with the same enthusiasm and interest that have been visited upon Turku and Tallinn over the past year. The spirit of the occasion, and the genuine, absolute honour the locals express on being bestowed the award, will stay with Turku for a long time to come.
Hanna
There’s something different about this one…
I see myself as a moderately well-travelled person, having visited most of Europe, Hong Kong, Japan and the southern states in the USA. Many memories are made on each trip, whether they are about trying strange food, meeting friendly locals or even having the odd moment of hilarity – but one thing I always find is that confusion crops up about my ethnic appearance. I’m not even sure if it’s in a good or bad way.
I’m a British Born Chinese, speak English fluently and studied Spanish at university, so I am pretty comfortable with visiting most parts of the world. I don’t have any qualms about learning even more languages, if it helps me get by. But my appearance seems to evoke different…. responses.
For instance, a short conversation while getting coffee at a gas-stop in New Mexico left a cashier confused when she said I (apparently) spoke like the Queen. Flip side to this: during a night out in Acuña, Mexico, a bartender was surprised to be able to talk to me in great detail about how film director Robert Rodriguez used his tavern to film a part of his feature Desperado, as I was the only one who could speak and understand Spanish – something that also helped make a complaint about a dirty and unmade hotel room in Las Vegas.
A weird occurrence was when a tourist wanted a picture taken with me during a visit with friends to the Carlsberg Museum in Copenhagen. The reason? He had never seen a Chinese person before.
Multiculturalism is growing everyday and so more people are becoming accustomed to different ways of life. But there are parts of the world that are not so used to ethnic diversity, and particularly given Asians’ distinctive appearance, seeing someone different walk through the door will always have that element of surprise. Even more so if that person can talk and understand you – that always raises a smile… or perhaps a furrowed brow.
Do you find yourself surprising people on your travels with your linguistic abilities? Or have you met someone who catches you unawares by conversing in your native tongue?
Katie
A Lonely Planet?
Ask your grandparents where they went on their honeymoon and the vast majority will answer that they went to some seaside town within their own country. My grandparents for instance went to Scunthorpe, and by all accounts had a brilliant time. Now look at the destinations of the people who have recently been married around you, or those just heading away for a trendy city break or backpacking around the globe. Just in our office alone I am sure we can cover most of a world map with little flags signifying the countries we have visited. My point? The world appears to be shrinking and with it comes a certain amount of damage to areas of unprecedented beauty and to some of the many wonders of the world.
In certain cases an increase in popularity or accessibility can lead to a few oddities, and fun, if unsympathetic activities. For example, in China at the UNESCO protected site of Mutianyu, what better way to place yourself in the shoes, or sandals, of the Mongol hordes than tobogganing down the side of the Great Wall of China? The same occurs at the site of the bridge over the river Kwai. The museum explains the history of the Burmese railroad, the numbers who died in its construction and the events portrayed in the 1957 film. You can then ride across the bridge on a traditional garishly rainbow coloured, road worthy train. Small gripes I know but are we not losing the significance of these sites by diluting them with fairground distractions? Or do these attractions simply add to the entertainment value of an area?
In Thailand I also visited Koh Phi Phi, a small island chosen as the location of The Beach, a Leonardo Dicaprio film and book by Alex Garland, which portrayed a utopian island experience far away from the western confines of the mass backpacker route.
Ironically the setting for this isolated paradise is now one of the most visited areas in Thailand and ’the Beach’ is now thronged with noisy tourists; the Andaman waters are now gleaming because of the residue left from the flotilla of tourist-packed speed boats that arrive at the location twice a day. Despite the numbers of tourists, ‘the Beach’ topped almost all guide books as a must-see, and whether I had been there was the first question fielded from friends at home. In the end it was simply a ticked box rather than a once in a lifetime experience.
What I am trying to determine from these small examples are the opinions of other tourists and travellers. I wanted to go somewhere because it was famous. People have heard of ‘the Beach’ and everyone knows about the Great Wall of China. But should the accessibility to these locations be limited? Is accessibility a good thing?
The example I want to finish on is Tibet. An area known by most people as a far outpost of China, an area little visited due to its isolation from, well, everywhere! It’s a spiritual area isolated from the western world, it takes two days by train to get there. With China planning a high-speed rail link to the area, how long will it be before you can toboggan from the top of Lhasa’s famous monastery?
Glyn