We Are Playing Witcher: Pronoun Usage (Part 2)

Last month I made a post about the various pronouns I use while playing or talking about games in I am Geralt: Pronoun Usage (Part 1). This is the 2nd installment of that series in which I will be focusing on my use of "we" - when meaning me and chat - in terms of Irving Goffman's The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life which I also mentioned in the 1st post. In particular, I will be looking at the performative nature of this use and how this performance seems to fail just as often as not. And in case the phrase "everyday life" in the title here didn't tip you off, I will be taking some liberties - or more accurately, I will be using this work in an unconventional manner. Of course, it was published in the 1950s so it's not like it was written for analysis of Twitch or The Witcher.

OK, enough with the heavy intro. I mentioned talking about failure, so let's start the death counter!

How I feel after silent streams.

On the Nature of Dialogues, Ideas, and Video Games

Here is another one of my test posts from FWD:Everyone - Dialogue On Art & Video Games. As you can probably tell if you read this post and the last one I am not using this platform in the way it was intended. The idea of FWD - as it was presented to me - was that people are having amazing conversations through email that are lost to the world because email is private (relatively speaking). The man I was talking to then compared this to historic letters that have gotten published.

I understand the logic here ... but I rarely see email used in this way. In my social and work circles email is a very utilitarian method of communication. It is to share information or files that are pertinent to a particular class/job/etc. Alternatively, when I have something of interest I want to discuss I may use email to arrange a coffee or beer over which I can discuss issues of importance. I do, however, often have fascinating conversations of varies real-time communication platforms - as you can see from the 2 posts I made over at FWD. This behavioral pattern suggests a couple of observations about personal communication and idea generation.

Cyber “Stalking” (Not *That* Kind of Stalking)

I had an interesting conversation with a fellow grad student at the AAAs about “stalking” people online. This is the word we used, though I want to make clear that we were not in fact talking about scary, dangerous, creepy, actual stalking. Rather we were talking about using the Internet to gather information about people we were curious about. Still sounds kind of like stalking doesn’t it? Well, since we both agreed on that point and could not think of another commonly accepted word to discuss the topic, we talked about “stalking” people at the conference.

Personal Definitions of the Word “Game”

How would you define the word game? It seems like such a simple word. I was sure I knew how I would define it: in my academic speech, “A game is a semi-bounded and socially legitimate domain of contrived contingency that generates interpretable outcomes.” Actually that’s Thomas Malaby’s definition (Beyond Play: A New Approach to Games, in Games and Culture April 2007 vol. 2no. 2 95-113) but I like it. In my every day speech I would say a game is any semi-bound activity or product that serves no direct productive function other than socializing or diversion. On a personal level I would call both of these definitions working definitions, but they served as a basis from which I could communicate with others, so they were useful…

Until they weren’t.

I had a “lost in translation” moment. The connotative meaning of the word game had changed in my every-day lexicon without me even realizing it. It wasn’t until I “misused” the word (“misused” if I was going by my former definitions) that I realized the change occurred. All this after struggling through understanding Taiwanese variants of this very idea, and I come home and suddenly I begin to question my own conceptualization of games. How did this happen?

Public Learning Patch 1.1

This morning I finally did it. I made my Chinese practice blog (中文練習) public. Only time will tell if this was a mistake. Despite the recognition that this may turn out very badly I have decided to put an idea before caution. Why? This is the only way for change to happen and, on a larger scale, I think there is a serious problem with some cultural perceptions of education that I have seen recently. Do I think my little experiment is going to change the world of education? No, of course not; but sometimes all it take is “one small step…”

Public Learning

Just before my friend and Chinese tutor 高健 left Taiwan for the summer we had an interesting discussion about learning through blogging - not through reading blogs, but writing them. He writes a blog about studying to be a Chinese teacher called iLearn Mandarin. I don't honestly know how I feel about this yet, but it is something I've been trying out ever since my adviser first told me to write a field blog almost 3 years ago....and now I have a second one called 中文練習 (Chinese Language Practice) at http://stuffmychineseteachermakesmedo.blogspot.tw.

How did I go from never even considering blogging to having 2 blogs in 2 different languages?!

Amazing what a little change in point of view can do to a person.

Skritter: My Favorite App or New Favorite Game?

Skritter logo. (Photo from the web.)

I've been using Skritter for 3 weeks now. Its a program that teaches Chinese and Japanese character writing. I'll admit, I'm in love. Their website claims a user can learn a new character every 192 seconds and remember 95% of what they learn. It is in every way an amazing educational program; not least because it reminds me of city-builder games like Sim City and Civilization. Wait, what?

When in Rome … or 入境隨俗

Recently I have had encounters with 2 Taiwanese who have spent several years in the States each. Interestingly, in both encounters there was considerable miscommunication, both verbally and in regards of body language.

I admit that after spending about 2 years here I probably should be more fluent in Taiwanese communication, but what about them? Both have spent more time in the States than I have in Taiwan. People say the only way to truly learn a language is to immerse oneself in the culture, but what about body language and cultural mores?

The Lonely Hearts Narrative

I’ve written before on Western women complaining about their inability to land a man, Taiwanese or otherwise, here and here. I guess this is becoming a series of sorts. To some extent I still believe everything I wrote before, to some extent I don’t. In my own journey adjusting to celibacy I have found myself joining in this “lonely hearts” mentality from time to time, but if I am honest, the narrative I have been reciting (more or less the same as the other Western women) is not the truth – or at least not the whole truth.

The narrative goes something like this:

I am single because all the white guys have yellow fever and all the Taiwanese guys are either too afraid to speak English or not attracted to white women. (Whether or not the speaker knows Chinese is irrelevant, because it is generally assumed white people can’t speak Chinese at all unless/until they prove otherwise.)

Though there is some truth hidden within this narrative, it is still just that, a narrative. It is a culturally acceptable way of expressing loneliness (to oneself or to others) that blames outside factors, thus leaving the question of the speaker’s desirability out of the equation. This narrative is loosely based on a true story.

2nd Body Language Acquisition

I have about 2 years in the field now, not all at once, but close enough.  Given my particular field site (an ESL game company), my time in language classes filled mostly with college students or recent grads, and the overall topic of video games, most of the people I associate with on a day to basis are quite Westernized. Many of them have studied abroad and they all speak English to varying levels. This has perhaps slowed my Chinese language learning, but it has not completely stalled it, and I have been getting by alright… until recently.

Taiwanese Interpretation: How to Know How Good Your Chinese Really Is

For many reasons I love the Taiwanese. One thing that struck me right away was how encouraging and patient people here are with Chinese Language learners. Maybe this struck me because I am American and have all too often heard the line, "This is America! They should learn to speak English!" (I'd like to see anyone who has ever said this try to learn a 2^nd language. I'd bet anything they've never even tried.) But I digress.
In my experience in Taiwan, no one will ever tell a foreigner that their Chinese is bad. Instead there appears to be a coded scale of compliments. Below is my attempt at decoding this scale.
Oh, you speak Chinese? = A for effort. This is an acknowledgment of your effort.
Your Chinese is good. = I am impressed you can put a sentence together considering how hard our language is.
Wow! You speak Chinese! = OMG, your white and I can actually understand what you are trying to tell me!
Wow! Your Chinese is good! = Ok, this is getting really weird now. White people can't speak Chinese.
Your Chinese is really good. = If you weren't so nervous we could probably have an actual conversation. We should hang out more often so I can teach you.
Why do you speak Chinese? = Obviously, Chinese is too hard for foreigners, so there must be something I am missing here. Was your great great grandma Chinese?

When Tired is Better

As if speaking a foreign language wasn’t complicated enough, I usually find it especially hard to code switch fluently within one conversation.  On a day to day basis I don’t have too much trouble here in Taipei because my social life is fairly compartmentalized. I speak Chinese all day long outside of my home, and only use English to Skype home with my family in the morning or at night to chat with my American boyfriend. 

This past week, however, has been a different story.  The hostel where I live became packed with highly social tourists and the common room became a mix of Korean, Japanese, Mandarin, and English.  Some of the people spoke only one language, a few spoke two, and then there was me. I am native to English, my Chinese is not too shabby, and several years ago I studied Japanese.  Now I would not dream of claiming at this point in time that I can speak Japanese, but hearing it triggered my memory and I was able to stumble through some small talk. 

Upon hearing me code switch between three different languages others in the room began looking to me to translate.  I was not a good translator.  As I said, I don’t really speak Japanese and the constant code switching was actually making me forgot how to say things in English. By the end of the night I was exhausted. My head had literally begun to hurt from the effort. 

I walked over to the door of the balcony for some fresh air right when someone new walked in.  Introductions were made as well as inquiries into his language ability.  I normally would have introduced myself, but I was too tired to care at that point.   Then I heard a couple of people trying to explain who I was and claiming that I could translate – giving more credit than was due – and so I cut them off and said, (in Japanese) “I studied Japanese in college but” (in Chinese) “now I study Chinese and so I forgot how to speak Japanese.” During this all the English speakers had that look of confusion on their faces, waiting for translation and so I immediately translated it into English without missing a beat.   

The funny thing is that when I try to seamlessly code switch like that I can’t do it.  I will forget words or mix up the languages.  In this case though, I didn’t even think about it, I just spoke the language appropriate to the person I was directing my comments to. It actually felt natural. 

Perhaps my brain can do better without me