Learning to speak 'merican

I want to write about haggling and politeness. As time is pressing, I’m going to steal a leaf out of Ken Wilson’s book here and instead say: “Coming soon – something on haggling.”

And in the meantime, I have a taster to whet your whistles which is a lovely anecdote written by Chris.  And I know this is getting to be a habit, but when Chris sends me inspirational anecdotes like this, it seems such a shame to leave them lolling about in the comments section. So here’s Chris on haggling:

My first big trip out of Europe was to Mexico and I found a really interesting guidebook before I went which was really a collection of anecdotes and stories rather than specific “go here do this”.

I decided that I wanted to buy a hammock during the trip and that I would need to haggle.

For months I researched everything there was to know about hammocks and identified the village way south where I would make the purchase and trained myself to recognise perfect weave, masterful technique and perfect balance.

My three month visit started in the North, after crossing the US border, and one idle afternoon waiting for a bus I found myself wandering in a small market and I decided to reinforce my knowledge of hammocks by looking at some examples.

I found some, fingered them, inspected them, separated fibres and then wandered off.

“Hey, gringo, you wanna but hammock”

‘No, gracias, it’s ok”‘

“I make special price..”

“No, it’s cool, I’m not interested, thanks.”

‘4oo pesos.”

“No, thanks, I’m really not interested.

“300 pesos’

“Thanks, it’s a really nice hammock but I don’t need it.’

“Ok, 200 pesos”

I really knew I was going to buy a hammock in the village that made the best ones in Mexico so I really wasn’t interested.

And I walked away.

“100 pesos”.

And I got on the bus.

And I sat there , looking out of the window, thinking about all the research I had done.

THAT hammock had ticked off against EVERY check that answered the question – is it the best?

Except – village.

I NEVER found another hammock even a bit close in the next three months of travel!

Thanks again Chris! And has anyone else had interesting haggling experiences?

Knowing I’d love it, Chris Adams has kindly sent me this anecdote:

A friend, lets call him Geoff, who is a musician and lived at the time in Australia – a long way back. The Chieftans were on tour and somehow he met them and found out that the tin whistle player had lost, or forgotten his tin whistle – clearly a problem in a traditional irish band. Geoff is among other things a tin whistle player and said
“You can have mine if you like”
The Tin whistle player, brought up in anglo/irish/saxon politeness, said
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly”
Geoff brought up in Australian directness said.
‘Oh, ok.”

Ha! The intricacies of politeness confound again!

By: Laura

The politeness theorists reckon accepting an offer is rather like going into debt, and we seem to have all kinds of ways to handle it. Expressing gratitude is key, obviously, and building up the the value of the offer is a pretty common strategy. Treat them like they’re offering you an unacceptable million bucks rather than a penny whistle, and make them feel good. But it’s clearly a dangerous strategy in Australia.

When I was in Japan, I learnt a little phrase to use when I was giving my landlady gifts. It was a jolly useful thing to have up my sleeve after I’d transgressed. In fact it’s one of the few Japanese phrases I can remember today, and translated it went something like:

“It’s a humble little thing, but it’s for you.”

‘Humble’ and ‘little’ were appropriate descriptions for the gifts I was giving, but I gather the phrase was also employed with magnificent presents – so a Rolls Royce or diamond bracelet or something.

And there was a ritual that was supposed to go with it. As I recall (and readers in Japan – please correct me if I’ve got this wrong)  the polite response from the receiver would be ‘Ee Eeya… Ee Eeya…’  while the gift-giver was supposed to say ‘Dozo… Dozo…’ . So there should be a kind of  ‘No, I couldn’t possibly’ – But you must’ -type exchange, after which the gift would eventually be accepted with a ‘Domo arigato’.

My landlady was a wise woman who recognised the risks entailed in cross cultural communication. I may have learnt the phrase for offering the gift, but did that mean I would know  the rest of the ritual? She never took chances. Each time I offered my gift, she said thank you and took it right away. I think she’d have thrived in Australia.

Chris, (in my best strine) Ta mate

I’m delighted to welcome a real ‘merican as my very first guest blogger. Sabrina has an ‘opposite’ view to mine–opposite in the sense that she now lives in Europe and puzzles over Brit-speak in much the same way as I puzzle over ‘merican. So without ado, here’s Sabrina’s take on reticent Brits:

This is information every American should read in a little manual while on their flight to England:

The English are complicated when it comes to striking up conversation. And we Americans have to be careful not to talk too much or for too long because it could bother someone. Americans love to ‘shoot the breeze’ with people, whether they are friends or strangers. This is probably an off-shoot from our pioneering days when many new people came to settle in the wilderness. Neighbors could be far away, so conversation was hard to come by. But Europe is different. People take more care to respect each other’s privacy. This is especially so in England.

The English find it embarrassing to end conversations. They think they might accidentally imply that they think their interlocutor is uninteresting or something. It seems that the English don’t have handy phrases like: “It’s been really nice talking to you”; or “Well, catch you later then” to convey that it is time to stop the conversation, and move onto to the next activity.

Studying at an English university, a fellow student and friend from Ghana told me that I was the only white person on campus who talked to him. He thought it was racism and I had to explain, “They don’t talk to each other!”

Sabrina Gerland Mallon was born in California and has lived in Germany for 25 years, where she is a Business English and intercultural trainer. She kindly allowed me to drag her away from finishing her PhD in intercultural communication to write this piece. Thanks Sabrina!