Ricky Yates

Further to my most recent post that has attracted both a considerable number of comments and also aroused a little bit of controversy, here is a funny poem on a related theme. A reminder that spelling checkers have their limitations.

Spring tulips © Ricky Yates

Eye halve a spelling chequer,
It came with my pea sea,
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.

Eye strike a quay and type a word
And weight four it two say,
Weather eye am wrong or write,
It shows me strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long,
And eye can putt the error rite,
Its rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it,
I am shore your pleased two no,
Its letter perfect all the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.

Magnolia flowering © Ricky Yates

Ever since I started writing this blog more than three years ago, I have always sought to recognise three important things. Firstly, I am a native first-language English-speaker. Secondly, I am an expatriate, living in a foreign country – in my case, the Czech Republic. Thirdly, I am a Christian minister – an Anglican priest in the Church of England.

Therefore, as far as I am concerned, numerous consequences flow from these three things.

• As a native first-language English-speaker, it behoves me to use correct English spelling and grammar; particularly so when I have written and posted many times about the numerous examples of Czenglish which I regularly encounter.

• As a foreigner resident in the Czech Republic, it is essential that when I write about Czech history and geography, I get my facts and locations correct.

• As a Christian minister, I have a duty and responsibility to always seek to be accurate and truthful in what I write and publish online.

In order to ensure I am true to each of these responsibilities, there are a number of precautions I take before posting anything either on this blog or anywhere else online. I always use a spell checker to pick up any spelling mistakes. And I also normally get someone else, usually Sybille, to read through what I’ve just written, to ensure what I want to say, is actually what I’ve written – not what I think I’ve written.

Of course, spell checkers do not think. If you misspell your intended word as another perfectly legitimate word in the English language, no spell checker will pick this up. An online friend of Sybille recently intended to write about ‘Public and private information’. What she actually wrote was ‘Pubic and private information’. You can imagine the hilarity that followed once this was spotted!

Likewise, I am quite thorough in checking my facts before publishing anything. For this, I use both books in my possession and online resources, always recognising that, because it’s on the internet, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s correct!

Despite all of this, I do still make mistakes, spelling, grammatical and factual. So I am always grateful when someone picks this up and points out the error of my ways. Thank you Tim, for the correction of my spelling. Thank you Sean, for pointing out that I had Jan Hus born in the incorrect part of Bohemia. And thank you Katka, for spotting my more recent mistake, in writing ‘Prague’ when I clearly meant to write ‘Brno’.

You will only know about these errors if you follow each of these links and scroll down to the comments. This is because, as soon as an error is pointed out to me, I correct the main text. But if the correction is made via a comment, then the comment still gets published, followed by a thankful and apologetic comment in response from me, acknowledging my mistake.

The reasoning behind this blogging and online philosophy of mine is quite simple. I write because I want others to read what I write, take it on-board and think about what I say. I want what I say to be taken seriously. Incidentally, it is ‘seriously’ and not ‘serious’, an ever-increasing error in spoken and written English!

This is because when I read something online which contains bad grammar, careless spelling and/or glaring factual errors, I have great difficulty in giving much credence to what that author is trying to say, even though they may be very well-intentioned. So consequently, I often do leave comments on other expat blogs, online newsletters and on Facebook, when I spot something wrong, be it a funny but unintentional typo, or a factual inaccuracy. I do this because, as I explained previously, I appreciate it when people do this for me because, so far as it is possible, I don’t want to ever be inaccurate or untruthful in what I publish online.

Most of the time, the response I get is similar to mine. The writer is grateful for the error being pointed out, their text is corrected, and a friendly acknowledgement is given. But in recent months, I’ve had a small number of rather negative responses. These have ranged from complaints that I’m ‘always finding fault’, through to the dismissive, ‘it’s vaguely right so why does it matter?’

Of course, everybody is entitled to their opinion and I am very aware that, having worked in publishing for several years before my ordination, I do possess what is usually known as ‘proof-reader’s eye’. But when these comments come from first-language English-speaking expats who cannot be bothered to use English correctly or get their facts right about the country they are now living in, I have great difficulty in giving any credence to anything else that they write about.

Am I being too harsh? Am I being pernickety (British English) or ‘persnickety’ (American English)? And I would be interested to hear about other people’s blogging/online philosophy. As always, comments and discussion are welcome.

Myself with Kristin & Petr following their wedding service © Sybille Yates

On Saturday 3^rd March, I conducted my first wedding of 2012 when Petr, a Czech, married Kristin, an American. The wedding took place at St. Clement’s Church with a congregation made up of Petr’s Czech relatives, a small number of Kristin’s American relatives, together with numerous mutual friends.

This wedding presented all the usual problems that arise when I conduct a Czech to English-speaker marriage. Petr’s parents and older relatives do not understand or speak English. None of Kristin’s family speaks Czech except for Kristin herself who has lived in Prague for twenty years and has her own business here. How was I to conduct a service that would be understood and appreciated by everyone present?

As with previous Czech to English-speaker weddings, I got Petr and Kristin to produce a completely bilingual order of service to allow everyone present to follow the liturgy and Bible Readings, even when they were not being spoken in their own native language. But I also got my good friend Kvetoslav, Lay Vice President of the Czech Old Catholic Church, to help me with saying parts of the liturgy in Czech, as well as translating my words of welcome and explanation at the beginning of the service.

Petr & Kristin outside St. Clement's Church following their wedding © Ricky Yates

Therefore, Kvetoslav helped Petr make his vows to Kristin in Czech whilst I helped Kristin make her vows to Petr in English. And the couple chose two Bible Readings, one read in English by Kristin’s mother, and the other read in Czech by Petr’s niece.

We even managed to sing one hymn, admittedly only in English. We sang ‘Joyful, joyful, we adore thee’ which is an American hymn that appears in the ‘The Hymnal’ of the American Episcopal Church. Both Kristin and her parents are from the Episcopalian tradition in the USA. Fortunately, the hymn is set to Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’, the official anthem of the European Union, so it did seem quite appropriate for a transatlantic marriage!

The wedding reception took place in the cupola on the top of a wonderful cubist style building located half-way up Václavské námestí/Wenceslas Square, which currently belongs to the Landesbank Baden-Württemberg. From the cupola, there are amazing views right across Prague as well as looking down on Václavské námestí/Wenceslas Square.

Together with some excellent food and wine, the guests were also entertained by a splendid jazz trio. And throughout the afternoon, both Sybille and I constantly received compliments as to how much everybody had enjoyed the service in Church, especially the way it had enabled both Czech and English speakers to participate and fully understand all that was being said and done.

Particularly from young Czechs, I got expressions of both appreciation, but also of surprise, in that they found the way I led the service both warm and welcoming and in total contrast to their past experience of attending occasional Czech Church services. Whilst it is always nice to be appreciated, it does sadden me that the experience of so many Czechs, is that the Christian Church is both cold and unwelcoming.

It is not the primary purpose of my being here in the Czech Republic, to minister to the spiritual needs of Czech people, but rather to the spiritual needs of native English-speakers. But I increasingly feel that the main reason that the Czech Republic is as atheistic or agnostic as it appears to be, is not because of a deliberate rejection of Christian faith by its population, but rather as a result of the failure of the Czech Christian Churches to be an attractive advert for the Christian faith.

Petr & Kristin at their wedding reception © Ricky Yates

Václavské námestí/Wenceslas Square from the cupola © Ricky Yates

Would you like an exclusive French female cousin? © Ricky Yates

I’ve written many times previously about this strange language that I regularly encounter in the Czech Republic which I call Czenglish. I’ve found it on menus, on market stalls, on buildings and on public notices. If you want to see other examples besides those I’ve just linked to, put ‘Czenglish’ into the search box on the top right-hand-side of this page and hit ‘enter’.

On the left is my latest example of this strange language. The Kulat’ák Restaurant here in Praha 6, is proud to offer an exclusive French female cousin to its customers. For the benefit of the proprietors of Kulat’ák, it should be ‘Exclusive Cuisine’.

And when correcting this hilarious mistake, the first statement also needs to be amended to read ‘The first Pilsner Urquell Original Restaurant’, both to correct the grammar to acknowledge that there are now other restaurants based on this concept which have since opened in Prague. In the third statement, the word ‘offer’ needs to be corrected to the plural – ‘offers’. And the last statement should read ‘Award-winning tank beer’.

The sign in my photo is of one of several identical ones that the proprietors of Kulat’ák have had made to display around the area nearby, in order to attract customers to their restaurant. They are quite substantial and no doubt each cost  a considerable  amount of money to be manufactured. And yet no one could be bothered to actually ensure that the English text was accurate and made sense. I just cannot understand the thinking – or lack of it – that lies behind such a decision. However, following a conversation that Sybille had a few months ago with one of the joint owners of U Topolu, a bar-restaurant that we quite regularly frequent, it finally dawned on me why so much Czenglish abounds.

U Topolu only has one copy of its menu in English as, being situated in the suburbs, it isn’t visited that often by non-Czech speakers. And to be fair, the English in the menu is relatively error free except for a few incorrect prepositions and the suggestion that you enquire as to the ‘desert of the day’. But because of the relative proximity of the Crown Plaza Hotel, which frequently has numerous German tourists staying there, on occasions a few of them are slightly more adventurous and patronise U Topolu.

Sybille therefore kindly offered to the joint owner, that if he would like to have a copy of his menu translated into German, she as a native speaker, would be happy to do it for him. His response was a real eye-opener. If he wanted his menu in German then he could do it himself because he could perfectly well make himself understood in German.

What this gentleman articulated is the mindset of almost all Czech people who have ever travelled beyond the borders of their own country. Czech is a minority language – I hope Czech people will forgive me saying so. Other than 10 million fellow Czechs together with 5 million Slovaks, nobody else understands Czech. Therefore as a Czech, if you are going to communicate outside of your own country, you have to make yourself understood in another language – usually English or German.

With the exception of a few hotels and resorts in the Greek islands that specifically set out to cater for Czech and Slovak tourists and consequently employ some Czech or Slovak staff who can then write the menu in Czech or Slovak, nowhere else would a Czech person find, or expect to find, a menu in their native language. Instead, Czech people have to have at least a limited capability in another well-known language, most commonly English, or if in Germany, Austria or Switzerland – German. Therefore they never see a menu or notice written in badly constructed Czech because nobody ever sees the need to translate anything into Czech in the first place!

Because since the Velvet Revolution, many Czech people have travelled abroad and succeeded in making themselves understood in English when ordering a meal or booking a hotel room, they therefore believe that their English is sufficiently good to translate a menu or compile a notice. But as all my examples clearly show – it isn’t! Part of the problem is that Czech people can usually speak English far better than they can write it. Hence ‘desert’ rather than ‘dessert’; ‘sunrice’ rather than ‘sunrise’ and ‘hallowed’ rather than ‘hollowed’.

Am I correct in my analysis? I’d love to hear from both expats and Czechs. And I do promise that this is the last time I will write about Czenglish – that is until I see the next example that leaves me creased up with laughter!

Do you fancy a pasta salad with a horse called 'Fruity' galloping through it? © Ricky Yates

In a valley between wooded Moravian hills, lies the small town of Rožnov pod Radhoštem which is where we drove to after leaving Ceský Tešín. Rožnov had been recommended to us as a place to visit by several people as it is the home of the Wallachian Open-Air Museum where an amazing variety of historic wooden Moravian buildings have been preserved since the founding of the museum 85 years ago in 1925.

We arrived just before dusk and eventually found a place to stay within our price range in Penzion Becva, which didn’t appear in our guidebook, but which I fortunately spotted as we were about to leave the town to look elsewhere. Having been so well-fed at lunchtime, we then went out that evening looking only for a place to have a drink and a snack.

Not far from the hotel, we found the very pleasant Restaurace U Janíku. We ordered two beers and asked to also see the menu and the waitress gave us their ‘English version’. A few minutes later we were both killing ourselves with laughter upon seeing the description of the last item on the page photographed above. Each of us had visions of a female horse called ‘Fruity’, galloping through 420 grams of Pasta Salad!

It is yet another example of that wonderful language called Czenglish of which I have cited many examples in previous blog posts. Maybe I should actually call this example Czfrenglish. What the menu is trying to say is on offer is ‘Pasta Salad with seafood’. But the compiler of the ‘English Menu’ has instead sought to adapt the French for seafood, fruits de mer, literally ‘fruit of the sea’. He has tried to make the word ‘fruit’ plural but has done it in the Czech manner by the addition of the letter ‘y’. He has then put in the definite article, which doesn’t exist in Czech. Finally for reasons known only to himself, he has converted ‘mer’ to ‘mare’.

After breakfast the next morning, we drove the short distance to the edge of Rožnov, to the ticket office and car park for the Wallachian Open-Air Museum. There were no cars in the car park and the ticket office was shut. Then it dawned on us – like so many art galleries and museums in Prague and elsewhere in the Czech Republic, the Wallachian Open-Air Museum does not open on Mondays! So, despite all the positive recommendations, we didn’t get to make our planned visit and it must wait until we visit Moravia once again sometime in the future.