“What we’ve got here is failure to communicate”
It was a typical warm office week day in Kathmandu, and our SAP Social Sabbatical sub-team was discussing the pressing matters of the day over our laptops. Then my teammate and new friend Hüsnü began to complain of some aches and pains in his lower back.
“Hmmm,” I said. “Have you ever tried doing planks?” (For anyone unfamiliar, a plank is a type of exercise.)
“Planks?” Hüsnü asked. “Yes, planks,” I confirmed.
He repeated the word back a couple of times. I tried to explain the exercise I meant, thinking he might know it by another name. He then whipped out his phone. “Plank,” he said aloud as he fired away on the little keyboard. Then the source of the confusion became abundantly, hilariously clear as he began to read a definition aloud off the screen. To him, my American accent made it sound like I’d said “plink” … like a sound effect! And my ears had incorrectly picked up his Turkish accent as saying “plank”. So there we were, left doubled over in laughter as the situation revealed itself.
Nearby, our teammate Aazmi sat watching, the corners of her mouth twitching with barely concealed amusement. “At the beginning of this project, I would translate for the two of you,” she explained later, as she had little difficulty understanding either accent. “But then I gave up, and I started to just sit back and watch you two go back and forth and figure each other out.”
You know what? Despite these occurrences, we were somehow able to work together anyway. The occasional inability to understand became a source of humor, rather than an obstacle. We simply paused, made sure we understood, then we moved on.
“You know, I do not understand about 20 percent of what you say,” admitted Hüsnü at dinner one evening. “The other 80 percent, I am good.” It turned out it wasn’t only our accents confusing one another. It was also the way both of us tend to bounce from one topic to the next. Once aware of this, it made it easier to slow down a bit and try to discuss one topic at a time. We had mixed results — so thankfully we remained patient with one another and took time to ask questions when we didn’t understand.
What about you? Have you ever encountered someone you had a hard time understanding? Maybe it was their accent, or the way they pronounced words you are used to hearing said differently, or the terms they used (CV vs. resume, anyone?). Maybe it was how fast they spoke. Maybe it was the fact they were trying to communicate in your language, not native to them … or maybe you were the one trying to communicate in theirs. Maybe it’s not even a matter of trying to understand the language or the accent, but trying to understand the point of view. Maybe you’re working with someone in your everyday life who has a different way of doing things than you are used to.
What does one do in these situations — throw their hands up and walk away? If situations in the world today give any clue, maybe that’s what we’re supposed to do — just give up. What if Hüsnü and I had done this? What if the whole sub-team did that? “I can’t understand you. I give up.” Wouldn’t that be lazy if we refused to try and figure it out, if we reacted with anger instead of with patience?
During the Sabbatical, we surely did not have the luxury of lazy reactions … I can imagine a good long (unnecessary) fight over the matter would easily spoil a whole day of work, if not the whole trip. So you can see the benefit of not only working together to communicate, but also of breaking up in hysterics over it once we figured it out. If only the whole world could be so willing to laugh at themselves and work on through it!
It’s surprisingly easy when you see the humanity of the other person. The person you’re talking to is a human being, just like you, and until Mars residency becomes a reality, you must both call the same planet home.
As for Hüsnü, once he realized what I had really been saying, his usual good humor burst out. “Plank! Like a plank of wood. Plank for my life, plank for my back, plank for the world,” he sang out happily. He paused to illustrate his last point, holding up his finger and swirling it in circles. “The world is not planky though. It is global!” How right he is!
