Ms the Word: Learning the lingo

Why we think differently in a foreign tongue



The head of the commercial business in a previous company was a charismatic German.

As the designated language of the company was English, I seldom had the opportunity to hear him in full flood.

His short forays in English usually contained Scheisse'.

It took me a while to learn what that meant.

However, on one occasion he was presenting to a German audience, I think shareholders in the company, and I had the pleasure of hearing him in full flow.

His face was alight, his voice strong and melodic, and the audience listened in respectful silence, allowing his message to roll through and round them like a wave.

About a week ago, I decided to plunge into an intensive course of German.

My workplace is supposed to be English speaking, but it is clearly not, and I fear there are too many times when confusion arises because something is lost in translation.

I have enjoyed the first couple of lessons.

I think it is the discipline of working in an area with few uncertainties; it brings a calmness missing from my daily life.

In German, there is a right way and a wrong way.

The difference between Zu, In, and Nach, for example. They all mean to' but Nach is for places, Zu is things that are really neutral, and In is passion.

So Nach Berlin, Zum Bahnhof, but Ins Kino.

Anyway, of course it has set me thinking.

Last weekend, we had visitors.

A nice couple we have known for a long time, through highs and lows.

Over a bottle of merlot, we were chewing the cud of a gap of six months since we had last been together.

He took a gentle sip of the wine, pronounced it to his liking, and launched into a story about a work colleague.

I had heard of the person; after all, we meet up fairly regularly and the color of our conversation includes familiar details, so a picture of the woman under discussion was already forming in my head.

He is a good storyteller, with a fine sense of humor.

And then his partner interjected with a couple of interesting but irrelevant facts about the subject and her boyfriend, which led her into a reminiscence about a school colleague, and the theme was lost.

Her partner smiled, took another sip of wine, and sat back.

The shine went from his eye, like a conker dries in the sunlight.

And I thought about the German lessons.

You see, the problem with English is that we reveal where we are going very early in the sentence.

So it is really easy for a fast follower to hijack the thought and tail off in another direction.

Perhaps this is what makes life interesting, I do not know.

In German, the verb usually comes at the end of the sentence, so it is much more difficult to predict where a sentence is going until the last minute when the verb trots out.

So it is much harder to interrupt, and probably more is achieved in the conversation, or at least there is a greater understanding.

Which is probably what frustrated the German commercial head.

And it is probably one of the reasons why the Germans are perceived to be more methodical.

Whatever the reason, I fear that living in Germany is making me less enamoured with the debating style of my compatriots and more inclined toward a more ordered way of working-and acutely aware that we were given two ears and one mouth and that they should be used in that ratio.