| 15 April 2003 | 2003 4 15
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| 15 April 2003 | 2003415
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In a previous article, I mentioned the contrast between high and low context cultures. This distinction relates to information that is carried solely by context, rather than being explicitly coded in speech. But of course, the context can also reinforce the literal meaning of speech, and that's no less true in Australian culture than Chinese culture. As a language learner, I rely heavily on context. Here are some stories to show you what I mean.
I bought a network card for my laptop computer, but when I got home I discovered that the card was a new 32-bit kind and my decrepit old laptop could only use the old 16-bit kind. The new kind of card is specially shaped so that you can't even insert it all the way into an incompatible machine. I had to return the card to the shop, taking my heavy laptop with me this time. Their approach to solving the problem was trial and error. In fact, about three people tried their luck at inserting the card, but of course couldn't get it all the way in. When I pointed out the variation in shape, they all peered into the dark slot in the side of my computer, talking heatedly among themselves and uttering "aha!" types of noises. I didn't understand what they were saying, but I could see it was all going to end with a pair of needle-nosed pliers. It was this prediction from the context which allowed me to anticipate and better comprehend the next thing they said to me: "Don't worry, we know how to fix it." I quickly snatched my computer back!
You don't need much mastery of a language to shop. The seller may say all sorts of things, but you know that they will eventually mention the price, so all you have to do is listen out for this. The context here is the situation: shopping. But when I arranged to have a quilt cover and some sheets made, I unwittingly chose a fabric for the sheets which was only wide enough for a single bed. The seller must have suspected something was wrong, since the fabric I chose for the quilt was wide enough for a double. She tried to warn me, but I was only listening for the price, so I just said keyi (okay) to all her questions. Due to my assumptions based on the context, the sale was concluded successfully, but I ended up having to pay later for the sheets to be widened.
Yesterday, the electricity meters in my apartment block (which are all in a cabinet on the ground floor) were replaced. The interruption to the power lasted throughout the day, and I ended up having to prepare the next day's lesson by candlelight, but another resident dropped by and was surprised to find me working in the dark: it turns out that the other apartments already had their power back on.
So this morning I phone the Foreign Affairs Office and arrange for a repairman to come at 2pm. A few minutes before 2pm, my buzzer rings (in Australia there is an unspoken rule of "give or take 5 minutes", but in China people are rarely late for an appointment, even repairmen apparently). Since the problem is probably with the meter boxes on the ground floor, I want to save him from walking up the stairs, but in fact my intercom has been broken for a few weeks and all that can be heard is static. I can't tell him to wait for me, so instead I push the button to unlock the front door and then I hurry down the stairs to meet him.
The well-dressed repairman says to me, "Are you from apartment 301? I'm here to check the electricity" (all in Chinese of course). I tell him that I am, and ask him to have a look at the meter box. I explain that it was changed the previous day. He listens to my story, glances at the meter, but concludes "That's not the problem".
We go to my apartment. At that point, my buzzer rings again, so I unlock the front door again. Wanting to make full use of the repairman's visit, I say "There's also a problem with my intercom", and I even hold the handset up to his ear so that he can hear the static. But he seems dismissive. Then he starts pointing to the motion sensor in the corner of the room, and asks me something. This guy really seems to have the wrong end of the stick.
Then another man appears at the door of my apartment, dressed in overalls. He starts talking, but I have no idea what he's saying. The first man speaks to him, and then to me, but I still don't know what's going on. Finally, the first man shows me the emblem on his tie. After a moment's thought, I finally recognise the word: jingcha, police.
It turns out that the second man was the repairman sent to fix my electricity, while the first was a plain-clothed detective who had come because my burglar alarm had stopped sending a signal to the police headquarters. That's because the power was off, and the battery backup had failed. The detective was very patient, and tried to explain all this to me with the help of diagrams. Personally, I felt very embarrassed that I had taken him to be the repairman.
It was pure coincidence that the policeman arrived just when I was expecting the repairman, but I was acting upon this erroneous understanding of the context. Let's review, with a correct translation this time:
The well-dressed repairman says to me, "Are you from apartment 301? I'm a detective from the local police station. We've lost the signal from your burglar alarm." I tell him that I am, and ask him to have a look at the meter box. I explain that it was changed the previous day. He listens to my story, glances at the meter, but concludes "That's not the problem. The alarm system has a battery backup."
We go to my apartment. At that point, my buzzer rings again, so I unlock the front door again. Wanting to make full use of the repairman's visit, I say "There's also a problem with my intercom", and I even hold the handset up to his ear so that he can hear the static. But he seems dismissive. "You should get a repairman to take a look at that." Then he starts pointing to the motion sensor in the corner of the room, and asking where the main control box is. This guy really seems to have the wrong end of the stick...