You need to take risks to learn a language

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/f0c6c476-84e5-11e2-891d-00144feabdc0.html#axzz2No4bHC9g

March 6, 2013 4:10 pm

By Michael Skapinker

The notion that the teacher can do all the work is nonsense – learning another tongue requires effort

Miguel Bloombito has some travel advice for his 75,000-plus Twitter followers: “Los subwayo fare hikeros esta too mucho expensivo. Take tu helicoptero to worko insteado!”
New Yorkers are having fun with their mayor Michael Bloomberg’s Spanish. The parody @ElBloombito account is one example. But Mr Bloomberg, whose Spanish announcements during last year’s Hurricane Sandy brought his heavily accented attempts to a worldwide YouTube audience, is not giving up.

He got a D in French at school and dropped plans to major in university physics because so much of the literature was then in German, he told the New York Times recently.

But he insisted he was getting better at his latest language. “I will not die until I can speak Spanish like a quasi-native,” he said.

Learning languages defeats less determined English-speakers, who reckon most business and travel conversations take place in English anyway. Even those who know that their customers would be impressed by an attempt to speak their language find it too daunting.

A few years ago, during a holiday in Spain, I put on a sample of a compact disc by Michel Thomas and immediately felt I had found something different.

I wasn’t alone. Woody Allen, Bob Dylan, Emma Thompson and executives of top companies paid Thomas thousands of dollars for Spanish, French or German lessons.

Thomas died in 2005, aged 90, but his audio lessons are available, along with CDs by other instructors teaching languages such as Mandarin and Russian using his methods.
Thomas led an extraordinary life. Born Moniek Kroskof to a Jewish textile manufacturing family in Lodz, Poland, he studied in Germany and, when the Nazis tightened their grip, escaped to France. He fought with the resistance, escaped near death several times and took several noms de guerre, ending with Michel Thomas.

As the allies advanced across France, he linked up with American forces, using his perfect German to act as an interrogator, and then washed up, stateless, in the US, where he set up his language-teaching business.

The publication in 1999 of Michel Thomas: The Test of Courage, an admiring biography by Christopher Robbins, led one writer to question Thomas’s wartime account. It is impossible for an outsider to judge the doubts, which Robbins rejected in detail in an afterword to his paperback edition, and which the US army answered by decorating Thomas for bravery.
But we can, as students, evaluate his language teaching.

He promises a lot. Don’t try to memorise, he says. Don’t take notes or do any homework. Leave all the hard work to him. Whether teaching celebrities or inner-city students, Thomas insisted that failure to learn was the teacher’s fault.

Actually, Thomas is a demanding instructor. He works by building sentences with two students in his studio and you on your headphones. He says a sentence in English and then waits while you and one of the students translates into the language you are learning. He then provides the answer. One of the students is quick, the other a little dim, leaving you pleased to be better than the slow one, but struggling to keep up with the smart linguist. There is no conjugating of verbs but the attention to grammar is detailed. It is part of the process, seldom explicit. Thomas is an engaging audio presence. The hours in his company are hypnotic, and hugely enjoyable. The sense of progress is gratifying. Within hours he has you compiling long, complex sentences in your new language. After 10 hours of his Spanish foundation course, I felt I was actually speaking.

I made a trip to Colombia – and found myself way behind Mr Bloomberg. It is not that Thomas is a bad teacher. In a lifetime of learning and trying to learn languages, I have never encountered a better one.

It is just that the notion that you can leave it all to the teacher is nonsense. Learning a language requires effort, memorising vocabulary, looking over the grammar, watching television, reading newspapers and talking to real people rather than just two hired participants. The learner has to take responsibility.

Successful language acquirers do something else: they don’t worry about getting things wrong or making fools of themselves. In that sense, New York’s mayor is the perfect student.

學語言別怕出洋相

http://big5.ftchinese.com/story/001049443

2013年03月15日 07:28 AM
英國《金融時報》 邁克爾•斯卡平克

惡搞紐約市長邁克爾•布隆伯格(Michael Bloomberg)的Twitter賬戶@ElBloombito，以“Miguel Bloombito”的名義給75000多名粉絲提供了一些出行建議：“Los subwayo fare hikeros esta too mucho expensivo. Take tu helicoptero to worko insteado!”（意：地鐵票價漲得太厲害了，還是乘坐直升飛機上班吧！）

紐約人喜歡揶揄他們市長的西班牙語水平，這個惡搞的山寨賬戶便是一例。去年颶風桑迪(Hurricane Sandy)來襲時，布隆伯格那帶著濃重口音的西班牙語公告通過YouTube傳遍了全世界。但他沒有放棄學習。

近期，布隆伯格對《紐約時報》(New York Times)表示，他上學時的法語成績為D，而在大學主修物理的計劃也因當時多數文獻系用德語寫成而泡湯。

但他堅持認為自己的西班牙語正在進步：“如果不把西班牙語練成準母語者的水平，我是不會死去的。”

學習外語會讓意志不夠堅定的英語母語者打退堂鼓，因為他們覺得，反正大多數商務對話和旅行交談都是用英語進行的。即使有些人明白嘗試說客戶的語言能夠討好客戶，但他們仍害怕學外語。

幾年前在西班牙度假時，我聽了米歇爾•托馬斯(Michel Thomas)的光盤樣品，立刻感到耳目一新。

我不是唯一的一個。伍迪•艾倫(Woody Allen)、鮑勃•迪倫(Bob Dylan)、艾瑪•湯普森(Emma Thompson)和頂級公司的高管都曾花費數千美元，購買托馬斯的西班牙語、法語或德語課程。

托馬斯2005年去世，享年90歲，但他的音頻課程仍可以買到，此外還有其他教師使用他的方法教授漢語、俄語等語言的光盤。

托馬斯的一生非同尋常。他原名莫涅克•克羅斯科夫(Moniek Kroskof)，出生於波蘭羅茲一個從事紡織製造業的猶太家庭，後來在德國學習。當納粹加強控制時，他逃往法國。他與法國抵抗運動並肩作戰，幾度與死神擦肩而過，多次改名換姓，最後化名米歇爾•托馬斯。

隨著盟軍在法國所向披靡，他與美軍取得聯系，利用自己嫻熟的德語審訊戰俘。之後，他以無國籍人士的身份來到美國，發展起自己的語言教學業務。

1999年克裡斯托弗•羅賓斯(Christopher Robbins)所著的那部充滿仰慕之情的傳記《米歇爾•托馬斯：勇氣的考驗》(Michel Thomas: The Test of Courage)出版後，托馬斯對戰時經歷的敘述引起了一位作家的質疑。外人無從驗證質疑的真偽，但羅賓斯在平裝本的後記中詳細反駁了這些質疑，美國軍方的回應則是向托馬斯發放獎章，以表彰他的英勇。

但作為學生，我們可以評價他的語言教學之優劣。

他做出許多承諾。他說，不用背誦，不用做筆記，不用做作業。將所有的難題留給他就行。托馬斯堅持認為，不論教的是名人大腕還是城裡的窮學生，學不會是教師的錯。

事實上，托馬斯是一位要求嚴格的教師。在授課中，他與兩位學生在他的工作室中造句，你戴著耳機跟著他們練習。托馬斯說出一句英文，然後等待你和其中一位學生將它翻譯成所學的語言。最後他會說出答案。兩位學生中一位聰敏，一位則有些“愚笨”，這樣，你便會因為表現優於遲鈍的學生而得意洋洋，但又很難跟上那位聰明的學生。課程對動詞變位沒有要求，但對語法的重視細致入微——這種重視雖然很少言明，但融入到整個學習過程之中。托馬斯的音頻教學富有感染力，他的課程引人入勝、充滿樂趣。你也可以獲得進步的滿足感。短短幾個小時內，你便能用所學習的語言造出復雜的長句。學習了他10個小時的西班牙語基礎課程之後，我感覺自己已經能開口對話了。

我去了一趟哥倫比亞，發現自己的水平與布隆伯格相去甚遠。這並不是說托馬斯是位糟糕的老師。我畢生一直在學習和嘗試學習語言，尚未遇見比他更好的老師。

我只是想表達，將所有難題交給老師的理念是荒唐的。學習一門語言需要刻苦努力、背誦單詞、查閱語法、看電視、讀報紙、與現實生活中的人（而不是兩位雇來的人）交談。學習者必須肩負起責任。

成功的語言習得者與眾不同：他們不擔心犯錯誤或出洋相。從這一點來看，紐約市長堪稱模範學生。

譯者/劉鑫

台式熱炒老外愛 掌廚開店台味濃

[My Students] Jonathan Agillon's Comment

Other people say that Mandarin is one of the difficult languages to learn. But Peter proved that wrong.

Back there when I was in Taiwan, Peter taught me the easiest but effective way to learn Chinese. His teachings can cope with what his students’ language status and needs. I never skip a single class with him because I know every time I meet him I will learn a lot. And it does. I'm able to speak and understand Mandarin well. Another thing what I've liked with him is that I don't feel bored on his class. I always enjoy when I’m in his class. He didn't rely only on his teaching materials, rather he always use our surroundings in the place where he teaches me and even adopt his teaching in my own workplace which makes my learning curved faster. During that time I do have a hectic and long working hours every day, and it feels that while learning, it also serves as a stress reliever for me.

 I am very thankful that he became my teacher. Even though I'm in Malaysia now I'm still able to use what I’ve learned from him. And with that, I whole heartedly recommend him to any other students that want to learn Chinese and also for the institutions that want to have a teacher like Peter.

Jonathan

kenxshin2006@yahoo.com 

台灣哭喪文化 "孝女白琴"躍國際

Taiwan's most famous professional mourner

By Allie Jaynes BBC World Service, Taipei

Crying for a living is controversial, seen by some as the commercialisation of grief, but mourners like Liu say their profession has a long history in Taiwan, where according to tradition the deceased needs a big, loud send-off to cross smoothly into the afterlife.

"When a loved one dies, you grieve so much that when it finally comes time for the funeral, you don't have any tears left," says Liu.

"How are you going to suddenly switch your mood to show all that sorrow?"

Liu is there to help strike the right tone.

In earlier times, daughters often left home to work in other cities, and transport was limited, she explains. If someone in the family died, they often couldn't make it home in time for the funeral, so the family would hire what's known as a "filial daughter" to lead the family in mourning.

Traditional Taiwanese funerals are elaborate, combining sombre mourning with louder, up-tempo entertainment to fire up grieving spirits.

For the entertainment portion, 30-year-old Liu and her Filial Daughters Band wear bright costumes, and perform almost-acrobatic dance numbers. They do the splits, back-bends, and somersaults. Her brother, A Ji, plays along on traditional stringed instruments.

Later, Liu will change into a white hood and robe, and crawl to the coffin on her hands and knees. There, in time to her brother's organ playing, she performs her signature wail.

Her sounds are long and drawn out, somewhere between crying and singing. At home, she demonstrates a typical wail for me. "My dear father, your daughter misses you so much!" she cries. "Please, please come back!"

I ask Liu how she manages to manufacture tears at will. But she insists all her crying is real. "Every funeral you go to, you have to feel this family is your own family, so you have to put your own feelings in it," she says. "When I see so many people grieving, I get even sadder."

With her long eyelashes, dimples, and sing-song voice, Liu seems much younger than her 30 years. At home, she wears an orange jogging suit and sparkly nail polish. I'd sooner believe she was a nursery school teacher than a professional in the grief business.

Funeral director Lin Zhenzhang, who has worked alongside Liu for years, says that's a big part of her appeal.

"Traditionally, we think of this as a job for women a generation older," he says. "But Jun-Lin is so young and beautiful. That contrast makes people very curious."

Liu's grandmother and mother were both professional mourners.

As a young child, she would play outside the funeral homes while her mother worked. At home, she mimicked her mother and older sister as they rehearsed.

"I'd grab any object and pretend it was a microphone," she says. "Then I'd pretend there was a coffin and crawl to it."

Both of Liu's parents died when she was young, leaving her grandmother with three children to bring up, and a heavy burden of debt. So the grandmother pulled Liu and her older brother into the family trade. Liu was just 11 years old.

She had to get up before dawn each morning to rehearse, and often had to miss school for work. When she did go to class, other children would make fun of her job and the strange costumes she wore.

"They'd say, that's so weird, so ugly, you look so stupid!" she says. "I felt really inferior and thought other kids didn't like me."

Performing wasn't much easier. Stigmas around death make many people look down on mourners.

"Sometimes before we'd start the performance, the grieving family would be very sour when they talked to us," says Liu. "But after we performed, they'd cry and say thank you, thank you, thank you!"

That's when Liu realised the real purpose of her job. "This work can really help people release their anger, or help them say the things they're afraid to say out loud," she says. "For people who are afraid to cry, it helps too, because everyone cries together."

Mentored by her grandmother, a tiny woman in wire-framed glasses and a tight perm, Liu trained rigorously as a performer, and developed the shrewd business skills that have lifted her family from poverty to prosperity. Liu and her siblings each have their own house, and their company charges up to $600 (£380) for a performance.

But it's a business in decline, says Lin Zhenzhang, as the economic downturn and simpler modern tastes turn people away from lavish traditional funerals,

"The tradition of professional mourners is going to slowly be eliminated," he says. "So people like Jun-Lin are going to have to find a way to reinvent their profession, or find new sources of revenue."

This hasn't escaped Liu. That's why she has recruited some 20 female assistants. They're young, good-looking women in black and white uniforms, who help funeral directors with embalming and memorial services, and they've brought Liu a lot of attention.

"There was no-one else doing this in northern Taiwan, and it ended up being more successful than I'd thought," says Liu. "Within this industry, I know I need to find niches that no-one else is exploring."

No matter what, Liu says, she won't ever leave the family trade.

"This is something my grandmother struggled to build up from the ground," she says.

"I have to teach others what she taught me, and carry on her tradition."

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-21479399

臺灣葬禮文化 孝女白琴登上BBC

〔本報訊〕英國廣播公司（BBC）26日以臺灣最有名的哀悼者（Taiwan's most famous professional mourner）報導臺灣傳統葬禮常見的「哭喪」，俗稱孝女白琴，專訪葬禮工作者劉珍玲（Liu Jun-Lin，暫譯），並登上即時新聞分享排行榜第二名。

　專訪內容指出，利用眼淚賺錢，其實充滿爭議，但劉珍玲是臺灣最有名的哭喪者，她也將這個職業視為臺灣傳統葬禮重要的一環，劉珍玲的媽媽及外婆也都是哭喪者，但這個職業在臺灣已逐漸式微。

　劉珍玲解釋，早期臺灣，很多家庭的女兒到外地工作，如果家裡有長輩過世，女兒無法回家，便會雇用孝女，以高聲哭喊悼念死者，劉珍玲也親自示範一段悼詞給英國廣播公司的記者看。

　英國廣播公司的記者也好奇，為一些不認識的人奔喪，難道不會哭不出來嗎？甚至詢問劉珍玲會不會有時是假哭，劉珍玲表示，每一滴淚都是真的，她到了每場葬禮，都會假想自己也是他們的家庭成員之一，感受悲傷氣氛，尤其當所有人都在啜泣時，她更覺得傷心。

　然而，這項工作不容易的地方不只是流淚，劉珍玲小時後便曾被其他小孩子嘲諷、冷言冷語，但劉珍玲說，這個職業是外婆辛苦建立的傳統，她會繼續學、並試著延續下去，劉珍玲也找了20多位女助手，她們年輕、容貌姣好，專業的服務態度加上制服，在殯葬業中得到亮點，開發新商機，劉珍玲希望同時迎合現代殯葬業需求，也維持傳統。

http://iservice.libertytimes.com.tw/liveNews/news.php?no=769904&type=%E5%9C%8B%E9%9A%9B