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Sunday, 1 September 2013 12:11 am
Austria Report: Language
I'm pleased to say that Before Sunrise did not exaggerate the presence of English in Vienna. This presence continues about equally in Hallstadt, Salzburg, and Berchtesgaden (yes, we briefly forayed into Germany!). Only one person we talked to, a waiter, required a compromise language; luckily, the first one he suggested was Spanish. Funny, it's more common to find French and Italian on signs. Oh, and Wikipedia threw me off: We never encountered Austro-Bavarian or Alemmanic, supposedly the second and third main languages.
Nevertheless, the pocket dictionary I bought paid off every day. As stylish as English appears to be in shopping centers, lots of text remains only in German. On one of the first days, for instance, I stopped my sister from opening an emergency exit, or Notausgang. (From what I saw, a given German term or sentence has about a 50% chance of being shorter than its English equivalent.) I made a point never to leave a hotel without the dictionary, often delving into it every minute or so. To me, it was kind of a source of comfort, a linguist's constructive diversion to cope with dull times. Not that the language got any prettier with exposure; sometimes it made my scalp itch.
The most important time to dig out the dictionary was when we rented a surprisingly large, high-tech Volvo. The manual was dense but restricted to German. Some answers were so hard to find that Dad would try to do without them for quite a while, as by leaving the rear windshield wiper on. Alas, it's only a pocket dictionary, albeit good at noting Austria-specific terms. Sometimes a word would appear in a definition without turning up in the opposite section, and I'm not talking about issues of conjugation.
The one time that we truly felt left behind by not knowing German was when we attended Strauss's Die Fledermaus. We could enjoy the singing and deduce a few plot points, but the spoken comedy segments largely went over us. At least we could enjoy two men trying to pass for French, especially when one said, "Voulez-vous couchez avec moi?" (It was a modernized production for sure.) I think I also picked up on a pun that would work in English: When a man sings in jail, another makes a crack about Sing Sing.
Oddly enough, sometimes we were unfamiliar with an English term in a translation, tho it was no less valid for that. Ever heard of a chough? I had no idea which of five ways to pronounce it until I finally looked online; it's "chuff." A fairly charming bird, BTW.
Austrian German names and words did not amuse me as much as Dutch, but I noted a few. Frey Wille is a jewelry maker, not an orca knockoff. Spittelberg does not sound like a good place to eat out. If you see "Quark" on a menu, it's curd, not in an especially small portion. Lots of towns start with "Bad," meaning bath; but when we saw signs for Bad Aussee, my sister took a picture for her Australian friends and I automatically added, "No biscuit!"
I don't recommend that you take English-speaking kids under a certain age to Austria. Only when I got to Vienna did I realize the origin of our "wiener." OTOH, "Schmuck" must have a very different origin, as it turns out to mean jewelry. Throw in the frequent use of "Fahrt" in talks of travel, and you've got quite a juvenile snickerfest.
Not much to laugh at in English, but I did find "white hot chocolate" deliciously ambiguous. "Motel One" seems a misnomer; by American standards, the multi-floor building is much more of a hotel. Oh, and one example of odd English from the U.S. airport: "If you're 12 and under..."
Finally on the subject of communication, if you see red with a white horizontal stripe, it's not necessarily a do-not-enter sign. It could be the national flag.
Nevertheless, the pocket dictionary I bought paid off every day. As stylish as English appears to be in shopping centers, lots of text remains only in German. On one of the first days, for instance, I stopped my sister from opening an emergency exit, or Notausgang. (From what I saw, a given German term or sentence has about a 50% chance of being shorter than its English equivalent.) I made a point never to leave a hotel without the dictionary, often delving into it every minute or so. To me, it was kind of a source of comfort, a linguist's constructive diversion to cope with dull times. Not that the language got any prettier with exposure; sometimes it made my scalp itch.
The most important time to dig out the dictionary was when we rented a surprisingly large, high-tech Volvo. The manual was dense but restricted to German. Some answers were so hard to find that Dad would try to do without them for quite a while, as by leaving the rear windshield wiper on. Alas, it's only a pocket dictionary, albeit good at noting Austria-specific terms. Sometimes a word would appear in a definition without turning up in the opposite section, and I'm not talking about issues of conjugation.
The one time that we truly felt left behind by not knowing German was when we attended Strauss's Die Fledermaus. We could enjoy the singing and deduce a few plot points, but the spoken comedy segments largely went over us. At least we could enjoy two men trying to pass for French, especially when one said, "Voulez-vous couchez avec moi?" (It was a modernized production for sure.) I think I also picked up on a pun that would work in English: When a man sings in jail, another makes a crack about Sing Sing.
Oddly enough, sometimes we were unfamiliar with an English term in a translation, tho it was no less valid for that. Ever heard of a chough? I had no idea which of five ways to pronounce it until I finally looked online; it's "chuff." A fairly charming bird, BTW.
Austrian German names and words did not amuse me as much as Dutch, but I noted a few. Frey Wille is a jewelry maker, not an orca knockoff. Spittelberg does not sound like a good place to eat out. If you see "Quark" on a menu, it's curd, not in an especially small portion. Lots of towns start with "Bad," meaning bath; but when we saw signs for Bad Aussee, my sister took a picture for her Australian friends and I automatically added, "No biscuit!"
I don't recommend that you take English-speaking kids under a certain age to Austria. Only when I got to Vienna did I realize the origin of our "wiener." OTOH, "Schmuck" must have a very different origin, as it turns out to mean jewelry. Throw in the frequent use of "Fahrt" in talks of travel, and you've got quite a juvenile snickerfest.
Not much to laugh at in English, but I did find "white hot chocolate" deliciously ambiguous. "Motel One" seems a misnomer; by American standards, the multi-floor building is much more of a hotel. Oh, and one example of odd English from the U.S. airport: "If you're 12 and under..."
Finally on the subject of communication, if you see red with a white horizontal stripe, it's not necessarily a do-not-enter sign. It could be the national flag.