On Migrations, and Age

This recent post on my colleague Clarissa’s blog on migrations and the kind of immigrants/grad students that we find in the US raises interesting perspectives. The post she wrote and the one she referenced both talk about the two extremes of being migrant students/travellers in the US: they either completely or extremely assimilate (sometimes even more fervently than already settled natives), or refuse to assimilate at all, living in the host country only in the flesh, and keeping their minds fixated only with things from home. Both extremes are unsustainable but we have all at one point or the other met people who leaned more to either side of the continuum.

Does it have to do with age, education, gender or religion? I can’t tell, but one very endearing characteristics of Czeslaw Milosz’s Visions from San Francisco Bay to me was the very removed but well situated (beautifully written) reflections on life in Poland as observed from California where the author had chosen to settle after a career lasting very many years. It was in the interaction of his fossilized Polish cultural personality with the new and dynamic of the American West Coast that the beautiful book of reflections emerged, and one is grateful for it. I suspect that the extent (and more importantly, progression) of the immigrant’s insularity on the continuum of eventual assimilation will determine the extent of creative conflict that might turn out to delight in form of essays and literary reflections. And surely, age does add a very interesting dynamic.

By the end of our teenage years, we are all usually well situated in our cultural surroundings to be able to thrive with it in a foreign country. The result of the melange of attitudes and interactions from then on determines much of how one’s adult life in a foreign country eventually plays out, and much of it is also fuelled by attitude. For a second here, I return to the short moments at the end of Wole Soyinka’s Ake and V.S. Naipaul’s Miguel Street where the young impressionable men leave their home surroundings for the very first time. Insularity ends, and the real world lessons begin. There might be something to be learnt in comparing the thought progression, attitudes and output of the three writers through the prism of their travel experiences, and more importantly, exposure. And time.

 

Sunset in Edwardsville

Evenings like this make everything else worthwhile. Welcome June.

Advances in Indigenous Language Technology

I am fortunate to have worked with some of the most prominent people at the forefront of language technology development in Nigeria. In 2004, during the West African Languages Congress (WALC 2004) conference co-hosted by the Department of Linguistics in my alma mater in Ibadan and the African Languages Technology Initiative, I came across some of the new advancements in localization, and efforts in making African languages relevant to changing times. Work in the area of language technology has produced a Yoruba (and I believe Igbo, Hausa) keyboard for computers, a corpus for translation of computer/technology terms from English to local languages, and a growing body of researchers working between Engineering, Computer Science and Linguistics to bring local languages into the global marketplace. I was the webmaster and quasi-secretary of the conference and I remember the breadth and depth of the number of presentations we had from linguists and scholars from all over the world. (You can find the proceeds from the conference in this book – also available on Amazon).

Photo from http://www.u.arizona.edu/~cashcash/ILAT.htmlAll new mobile phones aimed at Nigeria today from Nokia, Samsung and Sony, as well computer products from Microsoft have made options in prominent local languages a part of their products. I’ve worked since 2004 in the field of such translation work. Today we have Facebook and Twitter as the most prominent means of global interaction, but they are still mainly in major world languages. Twitter announced their translation centre a few months ago but have still not opened it up to any African language in spite of (I can at least vouch for my) repeated calls and bids for a chance of voluntary participation. I would personally love to see twitter usable (at least) in Yoruba (and I will keep badgering twitter’s translation centre until they budge.) It will take a while for major languages on the continent to catch up with the speed of technological advancements, but significant changes are made everyday.

This article – published in Farafina Magazine’s Issue #12 – documents one of my earliest experiences with language translation involving technology, mixed with some of my personal reflections on the field, on life and culture, and on the process and interactions involved in translation. I wrote it in 2006 and it was published in December 2007. (H/T @toluogunlesi for bringing this piece back to my attention today.)

The News Paradox

The biggest headline on today’s St. Louis Post-Dispatch is the story of a family found dead in their home, killed in a domestic dispute. A few days ago, it was the tragedy in Joplin, and before that the story of someone sentenced for having shot two or three people to death. What is common to all the headlines I have read in this paper since I’ve had access to it is the way they meticulously document the tragedies that happen around us every day. I have a problem with that – not in the fact that tragedy happens, but in the way it assaults my senses when I wake up in the morning. I don’t know about you, but I like to have my breakfast while reading something even remotely encouraging. So I skip to the art section to read cartoons, and reviews.

“Do you think it leads to a kind of schizophrenia” Ron asked me once, “when you live every day as ordinarily as possible, and then open the paper and see news of murder, accidents, death sentences etc that you never hear of during the day?” It might, I believe, if one spends everyday poring through the many sad news scattered around the pages of the daily. St. Louis has been called the most dangerous city in America – no doubt because of the amount of bad press it gets, yet in all my visits the city, even to the so called dangerous parts, I have never encountered anything remotely frightening. But there it is: a city judged by the media reports of the amounts of crimes that take place within its borders. I guess if one were to make travel or leisure plans based on media reports alone, we would never go anywhere.

A friend of mine said his biggest fear of coming to America was based on the fear of coming to school one day (or walking on the street) and having someone come in and start shooting, or hold everyone up at gun point. Thanks to Hollywood, cable tv and news reports from America to all the parts of the world, reckless use of firearms tops the list of the most defining characteristics of the country’s street life. And yet – until I went with a group of friends to a firing range just a few weeks ago – I had never seen a gun with anyone in the country except the cops (who always have them safely tucked in their holsters). People who make a decision about visiting Nigeria from reading what the papers report every day will go through this same schizzy process of reconciling the normal everyday life of its citizens, comparable to any elsewhere in the world, with the newspapers’ fascination with tragedy.

Do newspapers know just how much they influence foreigner perception. Well, of course they do. But what can they do about it?

Weekend in the Town

Memorial Day comes up on Monday, which means that we have a four day weekend, and time for Pirate of the Caribbean 4, Hangover II and some good old home theatre with leg stretched on the leather sofa. In an alternate world, there will also be some tone project transcribing, short writings, bibliography gathering for forthcoming MA project, and some hours of being serious reading abandoned books and babysitting cats. Four days is not so long when one thinks about it. Have a good one, readers.