Beanland Diary #5 - Honduras Culture and Spanish Language
[Editors’ Note: Regular readers of Beanland Diaries will notice in this edition a departure from our normal freeform comedic style as we present a more academic, analytical perspective on some of the aspects of life in Honduras. Enjoy with all due caution.]
Dear Friends, Family and Other Interested Parties,
On the 6 month anniversary of the start of my adventure in Honduras, I would like to share a few of my observations related to the Honduran culture and Spanish language that I find of particular interest. I hope these observations will shed some light on how language, attitudes and beliefs create the intangible differences found when this culture is compared to our own.
I’ll start with an extraordinary example. In a certain pueblo in the mountains of the department of Santa Barbara, the common wisdom of the people is that “thinking too hard” causes your brain to bleed, the source of nosebleeds and eventually brain damage if the thinking isn’t stopped immediately. Children in school avoid difficult problems, like manual multiplication and division, as a health precaution. Whether this debilitating belief has been passed down through the generations or spread maliciously by some rival community is unknown (but might make an interesting research project for an ambitious anthropology scholar).
Noticeably lacking in many aspects of life here is the concept of moderation. This manifests itself in many ways both amusing and sad. For instance, consumption of alcohol. The familiar American concepts of “a glass of wine with dinner” or “a beer or two after work” don’t exist, only the extremes. The vast majority simply doesn’t drink at all. And then there are the bolos. Bolos, or drunkards as we might call them, are almost exclusively men between the ages of 25 and 75 who start drinking around 3pm on Friday and don’t stop, literally, for days. I have never in my life seen people this drunk [note: this author has partied with frat boys, touring musicians and Canadians]. Before the sun goes down they are stumbling sloppily through the streets, mumbling and drooling and making little progress towards their supposed destinations. By night time they are passed out face-down where they will sleep peacefully as kids steal their shoes and dogs pee on them.
Moderation is also not a consideration in procreation. I was told that the average Honduran mother will have seven children. Men with ten or fifteen children (with different wives) are common. A student at the center where I work told me he is one of his father’s 50+ offspring.
Another element curiously absent is personal accountability, which is conveniently built out of the Spanish language (whether the language influenced the attitudes of the people or vice-versa might make an interesting research project for an ambitious linguistics scholar). If you’ve forgotten something you will say “se me olvidó,” which is not translated as “I forgot,” but as “It forgot me,” or “It was forgotten from me,” conveniently shifting responsibility from oneself to...well, to no one. The act of forgetting just happens, and you are simply its latest unlucky victim.
Of similar usefulness is the ubiquitous phrase “Si Dios quiere” or “If God wants.” Questions like “Will you be able to make it to the meeting tomorrow?” or “Do you think the power will come back on today” will probably be met with a “Si Dios quiere.” Since in practice the phrase is nearly synonymous with “no,” one might conclude that God actually wants nothing (a confusing idea that might make an interesting research project for an ambitious philosophy scholar).
In closing, it is important to keep in mind that while the characteristics of this foreign language and culture might seem odd, it is exactly these differences that make intercultural exchange such a fascinating and enriching process. Imagine how strange our habits and customs must seem from their angle. Ha!
Atentamente,
Your Correspondent, San Juan de Flores F.M., Honduras
[Please send comments and criticisms in writing to 5 Ridgewood Rd, St. Louis MO 63124 attn: Jerome]
Dear Friends, Family and Other Interested Parties,
On the 6 month anniversary of the start of my adventure in Honduras, I would like to share a few of my observations related to the Honduran culture and Spanish language that I find of particular interest. I hope these observations will shed some light on how language, attitudes and beliefs create the intangible differences found when this culture is compared to our own.
I’ll start with an extraordinary example. In a certain pueblo in the mountains of the department of Santa Barbara, the common wisdom of the people is that “thinking too hard” causes your brain to bleed, the source of nosebleeds and eventually brain damage if the thinking isn’t stopped immediately. Children in school avoid difficult problems, like manual multiplication and division, as a health precaution. Whether this debilitating belief has been passed down through the generations or spread maliciously by some rival community is unknown (but might make an interesting research project for an ambitious anthropology scholar).
Noticeably lacking in many aspects of life here is the concept of moderation. This manifests itself in many ways both amusing and sad. For instance, consumption of alcohol. The familiar American concepts of “a glass of wine with dinner” or “a beer or two after work” don’t exist, only the extremes. The vast majority simply doesn’t drink at all. And then there are the bolos. Bolos, or drunkards as we might call them, are almost exclusively men between the ages of 25 and 75 who start drinking around 3pm on Friday and don’t stop, literally, for days. I have never in my life seen people this drunk [note: this author has partied with frat boys, touring musicians and Canadians]. Before the sun goes down they are stumbling sloppily through the streets, mumbling and drooling and making little progress towards their supposed destinations. By night time they are passed out face-down where they will sleep peacefully as kids steal their shoes and dogs pee on them.
Moderation is also not a consideration in procreation. I was told that the average Honduran mother will have seven children. Men with ten or fifteen children (with different wives) are common. A student at the center where I work told me he is one of his father’s 50+ offspring.
Another element curiously absent is personal accountability, which is conveniently built out of the Spanish language (whether the language influenced the attitudes of the people or vice-versa might make an interesting research project for an ambitious linguistics scholar). If you’ve forgotten something you will say “se me olvidó,” which is not translated as “I forgot,” but as “It forgot me,” or “It was forgotten from me,” conveniently shifting responsibility from oneself to...well, to no one. The act of forgetting just happens, and you are simply its latest unlucky victim.
Of similar usefulness is the ubiquitous phrase “Si Dios quiere” or “If God wants.” Questions like “Will you be able to make it to the meeting tomorrow?” or “Do you think the power will come back on today” will probably be met with a “Si Dios quiere.” Since in practice the phrase is nearly synonymous with “no,” one might conclude that God actually wants nothing (a confusing idea that might make an interesting research project for an ambitious philosophy scholar).
In closing, it is important to keep in mind that while the characteristics of this foreign language and culture might seem odd, it is exactly these differences that make intercultural exchange such a fascinating and enriching process. Imagine how strange our habits and customs must seem from their angle. Ha!
Atentamente,
Your Correspondent, San Juan de Flores F.M., Honduras
[Please send comments and criticisms in writing to 5 Ridgewood Rd, St. Louis MO 63124 attn: Jerome]
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