About a week ago, the NY Times published an opinionator piece with David Brooks and Gail Collins on the value of higher education. It took me a week to see it, but I finally got around to reading the debate and plenty of the commentary. It's essentially the same old argument, rehashed. It goes like this: "All these online courses will cause a major paradigm shift in higher education. As more students just take online courses, the need for so many major, expensive universities will decline. College will become more affordable. After all, college is expensive because of all the money those greedy professors make."
Now, I'm a postdoc, not a professor. Though, I hope to have an academic position as a professor some day in the near future. However, these debates consistently strike me as extremely short-sighted. The source for this myopia is a very odd view of what role a professor serves at a university. The debaters seem to assume that the only role of the professor is to stand in front of a classroom and lecture with no interruptions. Furthermore, there is a very odd public idea about how information transfer, i.e. "learning" takes place.
To counter the first assumption, consider for a minute what is involved in teaching. Certainly syllabi are created and lesson plans are devised. That is a given. Yet, in most courses, a substantial number of assignments and tests are also given. Unless the professor's course is sufficiently large so as to require graders, the professor will do all the grading. In the entire debate in the NY Times, no one ever asked how grading gets done in online courses. I suppose that if every course were a literature lecture on how wonderful Jane Eyre is, then perhaps very little homework could be required. Yet, in every linguistics course, in every math course, in every biology, chemistry, and physics course, there are homework assignments. In a world where 10,000 people (instead of 100) sit in on a physics class via the web, who grades the homework assignments? It seems as if Brooks and Collins assume that one can get a college degree in a technical field just by listening and not through any sort of practice.
Moreover, learning a technical discipline frequently involves using symbols and formulas that are not easily typable. This makes doing any sort of automated grading (or even online homework submission) near impossible, lest you think of some way to automate it. In fact, such automatic grading methods are quite problematic in mathematics, where wrong answers due to small arithmetic errors are evaluated identically as wrong answers due to not understanding a theorem.
I'd also point out that universities benefit quite handsomely from grants which accomplished faculty bring in. These grants often pay professors salaries, in part or in total. In a university system where there are simply fewer professors, the university makes less money. This is a major source of income for major research universities.
The second issue which I'd like to comment on is the idea about how information transfer takes place. In typical courses, professors take time to answer student questions and to evaluate counterexamples to certain claims. There is no perfect course which is entirely clear to everyone. But, how do questions get answered in an online course? If they are not answered in real-time, understanding can be dramatically stalled.
There is a false assumption that many people make about learning. It goes something like this "If you see someone do X, you learn to do X." For certain types of simple tasks which involve simple repetition, this might be true. Yet, for methods applied to novel problems, you often only learn if you practice the skill and are evaluated for it (either by yourself or others). Calculus is an ideal example of this. You only really understand integration after having done lots of it.
I will end with an anecdote. Many non-linguists assume that children are aided learning language by watching television. Yet, 40 years of research in language acquisition (and dynamics) has shown that humans require actual interaction (with others or with the world) to learn linguistic skills. Why do those who wish to revolutionize higher education seem so ignorant of the fact that learning requires doing? Listening about how something is done via your computer screen is often insufficient.
The idea that one could simply learn a college course well with cheap online learning is certainly attractive. Yet, there is a pretense that the authors would do well to admit. It's just attractive because you get to be passive.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
What constitutes sufficient knowledge?
I was inspired by a comment that my colleague Bonnie left on her facebook today. It read (if I may, Bonnie, even though you are not here) "Research = good. Researching the heck out of a topic you feel less competent in however leads to a rather staggering amount of info/papers to winnow down into 2 50 min lesson plans. Sigh...."
There is a general sentiment that she captured here that I've often encountered in doing a google search for research related to my own work. If I find a couple of recent articles that are strongly related to my topic, I can usually navigate to other research by searching through their references. However, when exactly does one know when to stop? If there is an active theoretical debate related to the topic, then you can easily find articles in each camp and talk about the relative merits of each in the introduction to an article that you're writing or for a class you're teaching. If there is no big debate, or if your work does not directly test someone's hypothesis, then it isn't so clear how much background information you need to research.
This is one of the reasons why google searches for articles related to my research always cause me to feel depressed. What constitutes "knowing something" enough to discuss it? For the more esoteric topics that I work on (Oto-Manguean languages, phonation type), the literature is relatively sparse and controlled. I feel like I have a command of it because I've read the major findings. But for a topic that is new, it is difficult to get a sense that you have the right perspective. Having read the 5 out of 7 articles for one topic makes you an informed academic. Having read only 5 out of 100 articles on a different topic makes you seem like an amateur. It's simply more likely that you've missed something important. How do you know when you have enough mojo to actually talk about something authoritatively?
This ends up being only part of the problem that I have when I write about a new topic. The other, perhaps more major, issue is language. If you are deeply embedded in a certain realm of research, it becomes easier to use its associated technical jargon comfortably. When you are just trying to publish in a new area though, the language barrier seems insurmountable. It's not that I don't understand the language that is being used, it's just that my memory doesn't think about things in the argot that is used to describe them. When it comes to a new area of research, I often feel like I am describing it with a 10 word lexicon. "Ba ba ba, um, perceptual integration, der, hum, hum, blech."
About a year ago, I just started, out of the blue, to write up all my notes on Trique morphophonology. The pages just kept flowing and flowing. When I finished, I had a 40 page manuscript which really summed up lots of what I knew about the language. I was proud of myself. It felt easy to write. I probably felt this way because I was academically-raised speaking "linguistics" but my work over the past couple years requires me to speak "psychologist." This still feels like an L2 (second language), like I am an imposter striving to put simple phrases together. This is why writing becomes so difficult for me. I can write a nice intro, but then when I have to describe the literature on a topic, I feel dumb.
If there were a book "How to talk like a cognitive psychologist", I would certainly buy it. Yet, there is just a screen with a half-written article and groups of random pdfs in front of me, laying like a few pieces to a 500 piece jigsaw puzzle whose main image I may never glimpse at. I know that all academic work requires that you have some background. I just wish that there was a better way to translate comprehension into intelligent prose. And with that, a way to know that you know enough to translate in the first place.
There is a general sentiment that she captured here that I've often encountered in doing a google search for research related to my own work. If I find a couple of recent articles that are strongly related to my topic, I can usually navigate to other research by searching through their references. However, when exactly does one know when to stop? If there is an active theoretical debate related to the topic, then you can easily find articles in each camp and talk about the relative merits of each in the introduction to an article that you're writing or for a class you're teaching. If there is no big debate, or if your work does not directly test someone's hypothesis, then it isn't so clear how much background information you need to research.
This is one of the reasons why google searches for articles related to my research always cause me to feel depressed. What constitutes "knowing something" enough to discuss it? For the more esoteric topics that I work on (Oto-Manguean languages, phonation type), the literature is relatively sparse and controlled. I feel like I have a command of it because I've read the major findings. But for a topic that is new, it is difficult to get a sense that you have the right perspective. Having read the 5 out of 7 articles for one topic makes you an informed academic. Having read only 5 out of 100 articles on a different topic makes you seem like an amateur. It's simply more likely that you've missed something important. How do you know when you have enough mojo to actually talk about something authoritatively?
This ends up being only part of the problem that I have when I write about a new topic. The other, perhaps more major, issue is language. If you are deeply embedded in a certain realm of research, it becomes easier to use its associated technical jargon comfortably. When you are just trying to publish in a new area though, the language barrier seems insurmountable. It's not that I don't understand the language that is being used, it's just that my memory doesn't think about things in the argot that is used to describe them. When it comes to a new area of research, I often feel like I am describing it with a 10 word lexicon. "Ba ba ba, um, perceptual integration, der, hum, hum, blech."
About a year ago, I just started, out of the blue, to write up all my notes on Trique morphophonology. The pages just kept flowing and flowing. When I finished, I had a 40 page manuscript which really summed up lots of what I knew about the language. I was proud of myself. It felt easy to write. I probably felt this way because I was academically-raised speaking "linguistics" but my work over the past couple years requires me to speak "psychologist." This still feels like an L2 (second language), like I am an imposter striving to put simple phrases together. This is why writing becomes so difficult for me. I can write a nice intro, but then when I have to describe the literature on a topic, I feel dumb.
If there were a book "How to talk like a cognitive psychologist", I would certainly buy it. Yet, there is just a screen with a half-written article and groups of random pdfs in front of me, laying like a few pieces to a 500 piece jigsaw puzzle whose main image I may never glimpse at. I know that all academic work requires that you have some background. I just wish that there was a better way to translate comprehension into intelligent prose. And with that, a way to know that you know enough to translate in the first place.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Clitics, suffixes, and incorporateability
In much of the literature on Oto-Manguean languages, linguists discuss what are known, across different families, as the "personal enclitics." Yet, the evidence in favor of considering person marking to be clitic-like rather than affixal is always a bit spotty. I've been debating the status of person marking in Itunyoso Trique ever since I started studying it almost 8 years ago. This is the first time I'm making this debate manifest though, at least in writing. (Caveat: Please don't read this like you are peer-reviewing it. I am just putting some ideas down in my blog.)
A typical verb structure found in Oto-Manguean languages is shown in (1) and structure typical of nouns is shown in (2).
(1) CAUS-ASP1-ASP2-VERB-PERSON
(2) NOUN-PERSON
In Trique, the structure is a little different. It is shown in (3) and (4)
(3) CAUS/DETRANS-ASP-VERB-PERSON.SUBJ-PERSON.OBJ
(4) GEN-NOUN-PERSON
To give you a bit of a background, Trique has 9 tonal contrasts. There are four level tones (/1/ is low): /1/, /2/, /3/, /4/; two rising tones: /45/, /13/; and three falling tones: /43/, /32/, /31/. Syllable structure is simple, with no codas but two laryngeal codas, /h/ and /ʔ/. The two rising tones only appear in syllables with a coda /h/. No contour tones occur before a coda /ʔ/.
Regular alienably-possessed nouns are marked with either a genitive prefix /si3-/. Inalienably-possessed nouns never take a genitive prefix. Consider the paradigm shown below in (5).
(5) ka3siʔ3 'honey' | si3-ka3sih5 'my honey' | si3-ka3siʔ3-reʔ1 'your honey' | si3-ka3siʔ3-sih3 'his honey'
Note that the /h/ of the 1.SG replaces the glottal stop on the stem and causes tone raising. The morph of the first person singular is not /h/ though. Rather, if a stem does not contain a coda /h/, one is added. If a stem does contain a coda /h/, it is deleted. Consider the paradigm in (6). The 2.SG and 3.SG person markers are less remarkable for our purposes here.
(6) tʃa3kih3 'ear' | tʃa3ki43 'my ear' | tʃa3kih4-reʔ1 'your ear' | tʃa3kih3-sih3 'his ear'
This toggling process is completely regular on all Itunyoso Trique words. I am not putting more examples here, but you can read my morphophonology squib for plenty of cases. There are a number of tonal alternations involved with the 1.SG toggle, far far too many to discuss here, but again, you are welcome to read about them in my morphophonology squib. I am just providing this information as background.
Generally speaking, linguists have said that person markers like these are enclitics. The argument is, as per Zwicky & Pullum (1983), that these enclitics are not picky as to the part of speech of their host. Thus, observe the following words with personal enclitics in Trique.
(7) ni3ʔi3-sih3 know-3sg, 'he knows'
(8) si3-ka2-sih3 GEN-corn.tassle-3sg, 'his corn tassle'
(9) ru3ku3-sih3 behind-3sg, 'behind him' / 'his back'
(10) ŋga1-sih3 and/with-3sg, 'with him / and him'
In (7), we observe the clitic on a verb. In (8) and (9), it attaches to a noun and a relational noun, respectively. In (10), the clitic attaches onto a conjunction, or what we might call a simple comitative particle. The stem in (10) is not a relational noun and has no other interpretation. Considering the different parts of speech in Trique, person markers are not very selective as to their host. Generally speaking, this is the main criterion for "clitic-hood" that people consider.
Hollenbach (1984) in her dissertation on Copala Trique, also notes that clitics apply freely to adverbs immediately following verbs. So, a structure like VERB-ADVERB-PERSON is possible in Trique. One might not expect such a structure to occur if person marking were suffixal. Generally speaking, additional stems do not usually intervene between a stem and an affix. Observe this pattern in (11), below (from Itunyoso Trique):
(11)
(a.) ka3-tʃi4nih4 PERF-get.drunk.1sg, 'I got drunk.'
(b.) ka3-tʃi4ni43-yũh35 PERF-get.drunk-again.1sg, 'I got drunk again.'
In (11a), the first person is marked with a coda /h/ on the verb root. Yet, once the adverb /yũ4/ 'again' is included, person marking applies to this word. Examples like these convince Hollenbach that person marking is a clitic in Trique.
This evidence has never struck me as very strong. First of all, several clitics condition substantial tonal allomorphy on stems. Second, one of the exponents of the 1.SG clitic is the deletion of stem material (half of the "toggle"). These strong phonological patterns are more typical of affixes than clitics. Though, as far as I know, phonological evidence doesn't play a role in decisions of "clitic-hood."
Turning to syntactic criteria, there is other evidence that person marking may be suffixal. While Hollenbach makes a blanket statement that person marking may apply to adverbs, she doesn't specify which ones. As it turns out, they are rather restricted. Observe the data in (12)-(13).
(12)
(a.) ko3ʔo32-sih3 drink-3sg, 'He drinks'
(b.) ko3ʔo32 ni2ʔrua32-sih3 drink much-3sg, 'He drinks a lot'
(13)
(a.) a3kĩh35-sih3-yũh2 call-3sg-1sg, 'He calls me'
(b.) a3kĩh35 ni2na2-sih3-yũh2 call always-3sg-1sg, 'He always calls me'
The words 'much' and 'always' are the only other two adverbs that may precede person marking. The word 'slow' is ungrammatical in a similar construction, shown in (14).
(14)
(a.) ka3-tʃi4nih4 na2nah2 PERF-get.drunk.1sg slowly, 'I got drunk slowly.'
*(b.) ka3-tʃi4ni43 na2na2 PERF-get.drunk slowly.1sg, 'I got drunk slowly.'
It strikes me as odd that the only adverbs that are permitted to precede person marking are words for 'again', 'always', and 'a lot.' These each seem eerily similar to verbal aspect markers (frequentative, intensificational, etc.). So, perhaps the adverbial restriction that Hollenbach discussed is not a very convincing argument. Yet, if person marking is actually suffixal, then these words would be examples of incorporated adverbials. I don't know if this analysis is equally wrought with problems.
There are some other data that are relevant here too, involving verb concatenation, but that will wait until tomorrow. Any thoughts so far?
A typical verb structure found in Oto-Manguean languages is shown in (1) and structure typical of nouns is shown in (2).
(1) CAUS-ASP1-ASP2-VERB-PERSON
(2) NOUN-PERSON
In Trique, the structure is a little different. It is shown in (3) and (4)
(3) CAUS/DETRANS-ASP-VERB-PERSON.SUBJ-PERSON.OBJ
(4) GEN-NOUN-PERSON
 |
| Itunyoso Trique Subject Enclitics |
Regular alienably-possessed nouns are marked with either a genitive prefix /si3-/. Inalienably-possessed nouns never take a genitive prefix. Consider the paradigm shown below in (5).
(5) ka3siʔ3 'honey' | si3-ka3sih5 'my honey' | si3-ka3siʔ3-reʔ1 'your honey' | si3-ka3siʔ3-sih3 'his honey'
Note that the /h/ of the 1.SG replaces the glottal stop on the stem and causes tone raising. The morph of the first person singular is not /h/ though. Rather, if a stem does not contain a coda /h/, one is added. If a stem does contain a coda /h/, it is deleted. Consider the paradigm in (6). The 2.SG and 3.SG person markers are less remarkable for our purposes here.
(6) tʃa3kih3 'ear' | tʃa3ki43 'my ear' | tʃa3kih4-reʔ1 'your ear' | tʃa3kih3-sih3 'his ear'
This toggling process is completely regular on all Itunyoso Trique words. I am not putting more examples here, but you can read my morphophonology squib for plenty of cases. There are a number of tonal alternations involved with the 1.SG toggle, far far too many to discuss here, but again, you are welcome to read about them in my morphophonology squib. I am just providing this information as background.
Generally speaking, linguists have said that person markers like these are enclitics. The argument is, as per Zwicky & Pullum (1983), that these enclitics are not picky as to the part of speech of their host. Thus, observe the following words with personal enclitics in Trique.
(7) ni3ʔi3-sih3 know-3sg, 'he knows'
(8) si3-ka2-sih3 GEN-corn.tassle-3sg, 'his corn tassle'
(9) ru3ku3-sih3 behind-3sg, 'behind him' / 'his back'
(10) ŋga1-sih3 and/with-3sg, 'with him / and him'
In (7), we observe the clitic on a verb. In (8) and (9), it attaches to a noun and a relational noun, respectively. In (10), the clitic attaches onto a conjunction, or what we might call a simple comitative particle. The stem in (10) is not a relational noun and has no other interpretation. Considering the different parts of speech in Trique, person markers are not very selective as to their host. Generally speaking, this is the main criterion for "clitic-hood" that people consider.
Hollenbach (1984) in her dissertation on Copala Trique, also notes that clitics apply freely to adverbs immediately following verbs. So, a structure like VERB-ADVERB-PERSON is possible in Trique. One might not expect such a structure to occur if person marking were suffixal. Generally speaking, additional stems do not usually intervene between a stem and an affix. Observe this pattern in (11), below (from Itunyoso Trique):
(11)
(a.) ka3-tʃi4nih4 PERF-get.drunk.1sg, 'I got drunk.'
(b.) ka3-tʃi4ni43-yũh35 PERF-get.drunk-again.1sg, 'I got drunk again.'
In (11a), the first person is marked with a coda /h/ on the verb root. Yet, once the adverb /yũ4/ 'again' is included, person marking applies to this word. Examples like these convince Hollenbach that person marking is a clitic in Trique.
This evidence has never struck me as very strong. First of all, several clitics condition substantial tonal allomorphy on stems. Second, one of the exponents of the 1.SG clitic is the deletion of stem material (half of the "toggle"). These strong phonological patterns are more typical of affixes than clitics. Though, as far as I know, phonological evidence doesn't play a role in decisions of "clitic-hood."
Turning to syntactic criteria, there is other evidence that person marking may be suffixal. While Hollenbach makes a blanket statement that person marking may apply to adverbs, she doesn't specify which ones. As it turns out, they are rather restricted. Observe the data in (12)-(13).
(12)
(a.) ko3ʔo32-sih3 drink-3sg, 'He drinks'
(b.) ko3ʔo32 ni2ʔrua32-sih3 drink much-3sg, 'He drinks a lot'
(13)
(a.) a3kĩh35-sih3-yũh2 call-3sg-1sg, 'He calls me'
(b.) a3kĩh35 ni2na2-sih3-yũh2 call always-3sg-1sg, 'He always calls me'
The words 'much' and 'always' are the only other two adverbs that may precede person marking. The word 'slow' is ungrammatical in a similar construction, shown in (14).
(14)
(a.) ka3-tʃi4nih4 na2nah2 PERF-get.drunk.1sg slowly, 'I got drunk slowly.'
*(b.) ka3-tʃi4ni43 na2na2 PERF-get.drunk slowly.1sg, 'I got drunk slowly.'
It strikes me as odd that the only adverbs that are permitted to precede person marking are words for 'again', 'always', and 'a lot.' These each seem eerily similar to verbal aspect markers (frequentative, intensificational, etc.). So, perhaps the adverbial restriction that Hollenbach discussed is not a very convincing argument. Yet, if person marking is actually suffixal, then these words would be examples of incorporated adverbials. I don't know if this analysis is equally wrought with problems.
There are some other data that are relevant here too, involving verb concatenation, but that will wait until tomorrow. Any thoughts so far?
Monday, September 12, 2011
Notes from the field - 8/9/11
Notes from the field 8/9/11 (morning)
Yesterday I made good progress with Don Francisco on getting full paradigms for all the nouns in Triqui. I don't know why I just didn't barrel forward in the past to get these, but perhaps I didn't see the relationship between certain roots that raise among all the different tonal patterns in the language. Sometimes fieldwork is like this.
I have two housemates now, Brenda and Álvaro, a couple from Tlaxiaco. Brenda is a teacher at CECYTE, the technical school here in San Martín. Álvaro is her husband. They will be staying in the other room here. They're very nice and we chatted a bit last night. They cleaned up the room where they're staying quite nicely. It's difficult to keep things looking decent here in San Martín with all the mud and with people being farmers (essentially). I can't imagine what Triqui people would think about my relatives' houses where we all take off our shoes before entering. Cultural differences abound.
Last night I was able to chat for a bit with some different people here in San Martín, such as Rodolfo and Adolfo. It was nice having a coffee in the evening and having the energy to have a relaxed chat. Rodolfo was apparently very impressed at my knowledge of Triqui. I sometimes am surprised at how many words I know as well. It's just that putting them together is a bit of a trial sometimes. I'm getting better though. I've been speaking more in Triqui with people here during this trip.
I miss Paul, but I think he misses me more right now (which is very sweet). He's back at our apartment in New Haven and trying to develop his lesson plans for the semester while putting things away and cleaning the things we didn't have a chance to clean before we left. I wish I was able to help him back at our apartment. However, I don't want to let feelings of longing get me down while in the field. It can be really lonely here and I've learned that letting your feelings get to you can be disastrous. You can get into a depressed funk that hinders your fieldwork. This "funk" also doesn't help you escape the field in any way. So, years ago, I decided that the best remedy for these feelings was obsession with work in the field. This is just a coping mechanism though.
Today is nice and sunny, if perhaps a bit hazy. I've been feeling healthy lately, which is rare in the field for me. Bringing oatmeal to eat in the morning and avoiding drinking any water from the pozo has been a good idea. I also have been eating canned tuna and plenty of peanut butter and crackers. All this breaks up the relative amount of chile in my body at any one time.
Yesterday I made good progress with Don Francisco on getting full paradigms for all the nouns in Triqui. I don't know why I just didn't barrel forward in the past to get these, but perhaps I didn't see the relationship between certain roots that raise among all the different tonal patterns in the language. Sometimes fieldwork is like this.
I have two housemates now, Brenda and Álvaro, a couple from Tlaxiaco. Brenda is a teacher at CECYTE, the technical school here in San Martín. Álvaro is her husband. They will be staying in the other room here. They're very nice and we chatted a bit last night. They cleaned up the room where they're staying quite nicely. It's difficult to keep things looking decent here in San Martín with all the mud and with people being farmers (essentially). I can't imagine what Triqui people would think about my relatives' houses where we all take off our shoes before entering. Cultural differences abound.
Last night I was able to chat for a bit with some different people here in San Martín, such as Rodolfo and Adolfo. It was nice having a coffee in the evening and having the energy to have a relaxed chat. Rodolfo was apparently very impressed at my knowledge of Triqui. I sometimes am surprised at how many words I know as well. It's just that putting them together is a bit of a trial sometimes. I'm getting better though. I've been speaking more in Triqui with people here during this trip.
I miss Paul, but I think he misses me more right now (which is very sweet). He's back at our apartment in New Haven and trying to develop his lesson plans for the semester while putting things away and cleaning the things we didn't have a chance to clean before we left. I wish I was able to help him back at our apartment. However, I don't want to let feelings of longing get me down while in the field. It can be really lonely here and I've learned that letting your feelings get to you can be disastrous. You can get into a depressed funk that hinders your fieldwork. This "funk" also doesn't help you escape the field in any way. So, years ago, I decided that the best remedy for these feelings was obsession with work in the field. This is just a coping mechanism though.
Today is nice and sunny, if perhaps a bit hazy. I've been feeling healthy lately, which is rare in the field for me. Bringing oatmeal to eat in the morning and avoiding drinking any water from the pozo has been a good idea. I also have been eating canned tuna and plenty of peanut butter and crackers. All this breaks up the relative amount of chile in my body at any one time.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Notes from the field - 8/7/11
8/7/11 Fieldwork, day 1.
I had a good day today. It went at a somewhat leisurely pace. I woke up having to use the bathroom, which is never a pleasant experience in the field, but hey. I thought I was going to work with Don Francisco at 9 AM, and I should've been on time (I was eating). He came by at 9, but then decided to go do tequio (community work). I should just trust him to be on time. I'm too used to flaky consultants. He's not flaky.
Anyways, we started working around noon, after I had spent some time relaxing and preparing an elicitation list. We worked for 3 hours straight, focusing first on noun paradigms, but then on other grammatical things. I had thought that he had real trouble with paradigms, but then we went back to them and he seemed to really get it. I shouldn't be afraid to explain what I want and why I want to get it. Things went swimmingly afterwards. At 3 we took a break. I decided to have a snack of tuna fish and peanut butter with crackers. Lame I know, but Wilfrido's wife wasn't preparing dinner until like 6 PM, so I had to have something to hold me over. I had just eaten a little bit of bread this morning and I needed some protein. At 5 PM, I worked with Wilfrido for an hour. He's much quicker "getting" what I ask, but seemed less interested. I know that paradigms are boring, but where in a text would you ever find "your star" or "his prickly pear"? These are things that don't come up in conversational speech and relate to tonal alternations in the morphology. Eliciting them has been fruitful so far, so why not finish the task by getting all the possessible nouns' paradigms?
At around 6, I was able to call Paul and talk to him for a bit. This was nice. I'm glad I have such easy access to the internet and that I can see what is going on with him. It's so much less stressful than when I came to the field years ago. After that, I had a dinner of rice, beans, tortilla, and mustard greens. Healthy stuff here.
I worked with Don Francisco for another hour after that, but we were both getting tired. I talked to him about recording a story tomorrow and he seemed really interested. I think this is the type of stuff that really turns people on. I enjoy doing it, but it requires tons of time and I end up having to put off any experimental work on Trique in the meantime. Maybe amidst elicitation, I should do some text recording though. It sounds like fun.
I am a bit worried about having to run my psychoacoustic experiment here. It's almost ready. I just have to change it to Spanish (from French). However, it's REALLY boring and doesn't directly relate to Trique listeners. So, I'm hesitant to even run it with them. I wish that I could instead just run something different, but that requires creating something new and I just don't know if I would have the time to do all the work required for another experiment. Yuck. So, what do I do? My postdoc wants me to run another experiment, but I don't actually find it to be feasible with the speakers. Experimental world, meet rural Mexico. I wish that I had stayed with the older experimental paradigm. That's certainly more of a fruitful enterprise.
Hmm, come to think of it, perhaps I can put something together that simply gets at confusability between tones? That would be both fun and give me some more info about how Trique speakers perceive tonal contrasts. Okay, something to put together tomorrow.
I had a good day today. It went at a somewhat leisurely pace. I woke up having to use the bathroom, which is never a pleasant experience in the field, but hey. I thought I was going to work with Don Francisco at 9 AM, and I should've been on time (I was eating). He came by at 9, but then decided to go do tequio (community work). I should just trust him to be on time. I'm too used to flaky consultants. He's not flaky.
Anyways, we started working around noon, after I had spent some time relaxing and preparing an elicitation list. We worked for 3 hours straight, focusing first on noun paradigms, but then on other grammatical things. I had thought that he had real trouble with paradigms, but then we went back to them and he seemed to really get it. I shouldn't be afraid to explain what I want and why I want to get it. Things went swimmingly afterwards. At 3 we took a break. I decided to have a snack of tuna fish and peanut butter with crackers. Lame I know, but Wilfrido's wife wasn't preparing dinner until like 6 PM, so I had to have something to hold me over. I had just eaten a little bit of bread this morning and I needed some protein. At 5 PM, I worked with Wilfrido for an hour. He's much quicker "getting" what I ask, but seemed less interested. I know that paradigms are boring, but where in a text would you ever find "your star" or "his prickly pear"? These are things that don't come up in conversational speech and relate to tonal alternations in the morphology. Eliciting them has been fruitful so far, so why not finish the task by getting all the possessible nouns' paradigms?
At around 6, I was able to call Paul and talk to him for a bit. This was nice. I'm glad I have such easy access to the internet and that I can see what is going on with him. It's so much less stressful than when I came to the field years ago. After that, I had a dinner of rice, beans, tortilla, and mustard greens. Healthy stuff here.
I worked with Don Francisco for another hour after that, but we were both getting tired. I talked to him about recording a story tomorrow and he seemed really interested. I think this is the type of stuff that really turns people on. I enjoy doing it, but it requires tons of time and I end up having to put off any experimental work on Trique in the meantime. Maybe amidst elicitation, I should do some text recording though. It sounds like fun.
I am a bit worried about having to run my psychoacoustic experiment here. It's almost ready. I just have to change it to Spanish (from French). However, it's REALLY boring and doesn't directly relate to Trique listeners. So, I'm hesitant to even run it with them. I wish that I could instead just run something different, but that requires creating something new and I just don't know if I would have the time to do all the work required for another experiment. Yuck. So, what do I do? My postdoc wants me to run another experiment, but I don't actually find it to be feasible with the speakers. Experimental world, meet rural Mexico. I wish that I had stayed with the older experimental paradigm. That's certainly more of a fruitful enterprise.
Hmm, come to think of it, perhaps I can put something together that simply gets at confusability between tones? That would be both fun and give me some more info about how Trique speakers perceive tonal contrasts. Okay, something to put together tomorrow.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Notes from the field - 8/6/11
I always like to share my field experiences with people, but internet access in rural Oaxacan towns is either non-existent or quite slow. So, I've decided to post my field journal entries from a month ago into my blogger as if I were currently in the field. The following entries are dated almost a month ago now, but I will continue to post them here as if you were reading them while the events were unfolding.
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Saturday, August 6, 2011
What a day. I am back in San Martín Itunyoso. It feels weird to be here, knowing that I'm both not going to be here for very long (just 10 days) and knowing what I've done this summer. Paul and I spent all summer moving, visiting family & friends, and settling in to our new lives in Connecticut. In many ways, I don't really feel like we have settled in to Connecticut that much. We have lots of stuff and we have been able to clean up the apartment a bit, but so many things are still not unpacked. And now I'm off in Oaxaca.
Paul and I also haven't had hardly any time to just relax and do what we want, like watch movies, work, go out for a nice dinner, etc. Our schedules and free time have been governed by work necessities. I guess that is life though. You go through periods with lots of travelling and periods where you stay put. If this journal is any indication, I've been really wanting to stay put recently.
Anyways, I'm in San Martín. I felt really nervous yesterday and this morning about coming here. I was worried about everything: getting to Tlaxiaco on time, having a place to stay, getting time to work with consultants, even whether or not I was getting sick (which makes fieldwork much more suckier). Michael gave me a ride to the "suburban van" station where you get a ride to larger towns around Oaxaca. The trip to Tlaxiaco took about 3 hours, which was made longer by some road construction and the excessive amount of eating the driver decided to do while he was driving. Once I got to Tlaxiaco, I went to try to find a telephone to call Benigno, my main Triqui consultant. He was working today though, so his phone was off. He also didn't have any space available to leave a message. I was worried that if I didn't get a hold of him, there would be no way for me to get to the village.
So, I decided instead to just walk right into the outside market. Saturdays are market days in Tlaxiaco, full of tents covering people selling all imaginable products. Trying to manage the narrow passageways with a rolling suitcase is a real pain. Luckily, within about 30 steps, I spotted Benigno's brother Wilfrido. I was happy to find him so quickly and to have some friends who could help me get to San Martín Itunyoso. Unfortunately, almost all the people from San Martín had left Tlaxiaco already, so they said they had to take a van out of the city toward San Martín. After trying to find a van that could accomodate 4 more passengers, my luggage, and their purchases, we just decided it was best to take a taxi to San Martín. It cost 250 pesos (about $20), which is lots of money for most Oaxacans, but I was happy to pay it if it meant that I could get settled in more quickly and finally eat something.
We got into San Martín at around 5 PM or so. After saying hello to people, I went to find Don Francisco, my main Triqui consultant of late. His son is away in California as a migrant worker, so he has an extra empty house that I can stay in. I stayed there last time and it was reasonably comfortable with a good amount of privacy. It also stays somewhat warmer than the outside air, which is a bonus in chilly, rainy San Martín. Don Francisco was very happy to see me and pleased to offer me his son's place to stay in. This ended my last anxiety about coming here. I hadn't been able to get a hold of Don Francisco before coming, so I didn't know how much we would have been able to work together or if I could stay at his son's house. Luckily, this worry was abated.
I had a very full meal with Benigno's family, consisting of eggs served in a chile sauce, roast chicken, steamed mostaza quelites (greens), local sweet potatoes (very dark purple ones), and of course, fresh tortillas. It was a nice meal at the end of the day, finished with a sweet cup of coffee. I'm tired though. I hope tomorrow isn't as dreary and rainy as today is. I need some sun.
===================
Saturday, August 6, 2011
What a day. I am back in San Martín Itunyoso. It feels weird to be here, knowing that I'm both not going to be here for very long (just 10 days) and knowing what I've done this summer. Paul and I spent all summer moving, visiting family & friends, and settling in to our new lives in Connecticut. In many ways, I don't really feel like we have settled in to Connecticut that much. We have lots of stuff and we have been able to clean up the apartment a bit, but so many things are still not unpacked. And now I'm off in Oaxaca.
Paul and I also haven't had hardly any time to just relax and do what we want, like watch movies, work, go out for a nice dinner, etc. Our schedules and free time have been governed by work necessities. I guess that is life though. You go through periods with lots of travelling and periods where you stay put. If this journal is any indication, I've been really wanting to stay put recently.
Anyways, I'm in San Martín. I felt really nervous yesterday and this morning about coming here. I was worried about everything: getting to Tlaxiaco on time, having a place to stay, getting time to work with consultants, even whether or not I was getting sick (which makes fieldwork much more suckier). Michael gave me a ride to the "suburban van" station where you get a ride to larger towns around Oaxaca. The trip to Tlaxiaco took about 3 hours, which was made longer by some road construction and the excessive amount of eating the driver decided to do while he was driving. Once I got to Tlaxiaco, I went to try to find a telephone to call Benigno, my main Triqui consultant. He was working today though, so his phone was off. He also didn't have any space available to leave a message. I was worried that if I didn't get a hold of him, there would be no way for me to get to the village.
 | |
| Saturdays are "market" days in Tlaxiaco, which has been a center of trade/commerce since pre-colonial times. The people at the bottom of this picture are selling comales (clay plates you lay on top of your fire to cook with). |
So, I decided instead to just walk right into the outside market. Saturdays are market days in Tlaxiaco, full of tents covering people selling all imaginable products. Trying to manage the narrow passageways with a rolling suitcase is a real pain. Luckily, within about 30 steps, I spotted Benigno's brother Wilfrido. I was happy to find him so quickly and to have some friends who could help me get to San Martín Itunyoso. Unfortunately, almost all the people from San Martín had left Tlaxiaco already, so they said they had to take a van out of the city toward San Martín. After trying to find a van that could accomodate 4 more passengers, my luggage, and their purchases, we just decided it was best to take a taxi to San Martín. It cost 250 pesos (about $20), which is lots of money for most Oaxacans, but I was happy to pay it if it meant that I could get settled in more quickly and finally eat something.
We got into San Martín at around 5 PM or so. After saying hello to people, I went to find Don Francisco, my main Triqui consultant of late. His son is away in California as a migrant worker, so he has an extra empty house that I can stay in. I stayed there last time and it was reasonably comfortable with a good amount of privacy. It also stays somewhat warmer than the outside air, which is a bonus in chilly, rainy San Martín. Don Francisco was very happy to see me and pleased to offer me his son's place to stay in. This ended my last anxiety about coming here. I hadn't been able to get a hold of Don Francisco before coming, so I didn't know how much we would have been able to work together or if I could stay at his son's house. Luckily, this worry was abated.
I had a very full meal with Benigno's family, consisting of eggs served in a chile sauce, roast chicken, steamed mostaza quelites (greens), local sweet potatoes (very dark purple ones), and of course, fresh tortillas. It was a nice meal at the end of the day, finished with a sweet cup of coffee. I'm tired though. I hope tomorrow isn't as dreary and rainy as today is. I need some sun.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Sitting in airport lounges
American businessmen are really bored. They do not enjoy waiting without talking. They must be the talking type. Sitting at the lounge at my computer waiting for my flight, I am surrounded by American businessmen. They sit constantly looking at their telephones. They talk about nothing with friends and relatives. They talk about the fact that they're waiting at the airport. They check multiple times to see if their flight is delayed or not. They talk about the fact that their flight is leaving in 40 minutes, 60 minutes, whatever. They are really, really boring.
They are also really loud. One thing I think that I enjoy about France is the fact that people have volume control. It is considered rude if anyone further than 5 feet away from you can hear your conversation. To speak louder is considered yelling. Mothers quickly hush their children when they start to make noise. Cell phone conversations are muted and restaurants, oases of peaceful bliss. I generally don't think that it is appropriate that I hear a conversation when I am sitting more than 30 feet away.
So, anyways, they should learn to shut up or read a book.
 |
| American businessmen are really boring. |
They are also really loud. One thing I think that I enjoy about France is the fact that people have volume control. It is considered rude if anyone further than 5 feet away from you can hear your conversation. To speak louder is considered yelling. Mothers quickly hush their children when they start to make noise. Cell phone conversations are muted and restaurants, oases of peaceful bliss. I generally don't think that it is appropriate that I hear a conversation when I am sitting more than 30 feet away.
So, anyways, they should learn to shut up or read a book.
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