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It is hard to conceive of a language without nouns or verbs. But that is just what Riau Indonesian is, a researcher says at the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology, in Leipzigstates. Dr. Gil has been studying Riau for the past 12 years. Initially, he says, he struggled with the language, despite being fluent in standard Indonesian. However, a breakthrough came when he realized that what he had been thinking of as different parts of speech were, in fact, grammatically the same. For example, the phrase "the chicken is eating" translating into colloquial Riau is "ayam makan". Literally, the phrase means "chicken eat". But the same pair of words also have meanings as diverse as "the chicken is making somebody eat", or "somebody is eating where the chicken is". There are, he says, no modifiers that distinguish the tenses of verbs. Nor are there modifiers for nouns that distinguish the definite from the indefinite. Indeed, there are no features in Riau Indonesian that distinguish nouns from verbs. These categories, he says, are imposed because the languages that Western linguists are familiar with having them.This sort of observation flies in the face of conventional wisdom about what languages is. Most linguists are influenced by the work of Noam Chomsky—in particular, his theory of "deep grammar". According to Dr. Chomsky, people are born with a sort of linguistic template in their brains. This is a set of rules that allows children to learn a language quickly, but also imposes constraints and structure on what is learnt. Evidence in support of this theory includes the tendency of children to make systematic mistakes which indicate a tendency to impose rules on what turn out to be grammatical exceptions (e. g. "I dided it" instead of "I did it"). There is also the ability of the children of migrant workers to invent new languages known as creoles out of the grammatically incoherent pidgin spoken by their parents. Exactly what the deep grammar consists of is still not clear, but a basic distinction between nouns and verbs would probably be one of its minimum requirements.Dr. Gil contends, however, that there is a risk of unconscious bias leading to the conclusion that a particular sort of grammar exists in an unfamiliar language. That is because it is easier for linguists to discover extra features in foreign languages, for example, tones that change the meaning of words, which are common in Indonesian but do not exist in European languages than to realize that elements which are taken for granted in a linguist’s native language may be absent from another. Despite the best intentions, he says, there is a tendency to fit languages into a mould. And since most linguists are Westerners, that mould is usually an Indo-European language from the West.It needs not, however, be a modern language. Dr. Gil’s point about bias is well illustrated by the history of the study of the world’s most widely spoken tongue. Many of the people who developed modern linguistics had had an education in Latin and Greek. As a consequence, English was often described until well into the 20 century as having six different noun cases, because Latin has six. Only relatively recently did grammarians begin a debate over noun cases in English. Some now contend that it does not have noun cases at all; others argue that it has two while still others maintain that there are three or four cases.The difficulty is compounded if a linguist is not fluent in the language he is studying. The process of linguistic fieldwork is a painstaking one, fraught with pitfalls. Its mainstay is the use of "informants" who tell linguists, in interviews and on paper, about their language. Unfortunately, these informants tend to be better-educated than their fellows and are often fluent in more than one language. The word "pitfalls’ in the last paragraph probably means ().
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Smiling and dapper, Fazle Hasan Abed hardly seems like a revolutionary. A Bangladeshi educated in Britain, an admirer of Shakespeare and Joyce, and a former accountant at Shell, he is the son of a distinguished family, his maternal grandfather was a minister in the colonial government of Bengal; a great-uncle was the first Bengali to serve in the governor of Bengal’s executive council. Now he received a very traditional distinction of his own. a knighthood. Yet the organization he founded, and for which his knighthood is a kind of respect, has probably done more than any single body to upend the traditions of misery and poverty in Bangladesh. Called BRAC, it is by most measures the largest, fastest-growing non-governmental organization (NGO) in the world—and one of the most businesslike.Although Mohammed Yunus won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2006 for helping the poor, his Grameen Bank was neither the first nor the largest microfinance lender in his native Bangladesh; BRAC was. Its microfinance operation disburses about $ 1 billion a year. But this is only part of what it does: it is also an Internet-service provider; it has a university; its primary schools educate 11% of Bangladesh’s children. It runs feed mills, chicken farms, tea plantations and packaging factories. BRAC has shown that NGOs do not need to be small and that a little-known institution from a poor country can outgun famous Western charities.None of this seemed likely in 1970, when Sir Faze turned Shell’s offices in Chittagong into a refuge for victims of a deadly cyclone. BRAC—which started as an acronym, Bangladesh Rehabilitation Assistance Committee, and became a motto, "building resources across communities"—surmounted its early troubles by combining two things that rarely go together: running an NGO as a business and taking seriously the social context of poverty.BRAC earns from its operations about 80% of the money it disburses to the poor (the remainder is aid, mostly from Western donors). It calls a halt to activities that require endless subsidies. At one point, it even tried financing itself from the tiny savings of the poor (is, no aid at all), though this drastic form of self-help proved a step too far. hardly any lenders or borrowers put themselves forward. From the start, Sir Fazle insisted on brutal honesty about results. BRAC pays far more attention to research and "continuous learning" than do most NGOs. David Korten, author of "When Corporations Rule the World", called it "as near to a pure example of a learning organization as one is likely to find. "What makes BRAC unique is its combination of business methods with a particular view of poverty. Poverty is often regarded primarily as an economic problem which can be alleviated by sending money. Influenced by three "liberation thinkers" fashionable in the 1960s—Frantz Fanon, Paulo Freer and Ivan Iliac—Sir Fazle recognized that poverty in Bangladeshi villages is also a result of rigid social stratification. In these circumstances, "community development" will help the rich more than the poor; to change the poverty, you have to change the society.That view might have pointed Sir Fazle towards left-wing politics. Instead, the revolutionary impetus was channeled through BRAC into development. Women became the institution’s focus because they are bottom of the heap and most in need of help: 70% of the children in BRAC schools are girls. Microfinance encourages the poor to save but, unlike the Graeme Bank, BRAC also lends a lot to small companies. Tiny loans may improve the lot of an individual or family but are usually invested in traditional village enterprises, like owning a cow. Sir Fazle’s aim of social change requires not growth (in the sense of more of the same) but development (meaning new and different activities). Only businesses create jobs and new forms of productive enterprise.After 30 years in Bangladesh, BRAC has more or less perfected its way of doing things and is spreading its wings round the developing world. It is already the biggest NGO in Afghanistan, Tanzania and Uganda, overtaking British charities which have been in the latter countries for decades. Coming from a poor country—and a Muslim one, to boot—means it is less likely to be resented or called condescending. Its costs are lower, too. it does not buy large white SUVs or employ large white men.Its expansion overseas may, however, present BRAC with a new problem. Robert Kaplan, an American writer, says that NGOs fill the void between thousands of villages and a remote, often broken, government. BRAC does this triumphantly in Bangladesh—but it is a Bangladeshi organisation. Whether it can do the same elsewhere remains to be seen. All of the following words can be used to describe BRAC EXCEPT().
Question 10 is based on the following news. At the end of the news item, you will be given 10 seconds to answer the question. Now listen to the news.
An interview with Helena Norberg-Hodge, about her work in a pristine, ancient Himalayan culture as it faced the siren song of western-style development. Share International US editor Monte Leach spoke with Norberg-Hodge on her recent visit to the San Francisco Bay Area.Share International: How did you first get involved with helping to preserve the Ladakhi cultureHelena Norberg-Hodge: I trekked into remote valleys and spoke to Ladakhi people everywhere. I saw quite a remarkable self-reliant wealth and above all an amazing self-esteem of people who were models of what it means to feel completely secure in their own identity and place. They seemed to be the most open, happy and humble people. And they told me they had never known hunger. They had a standard of living much higher than I would have expected, none of it from so-called progress.SI: How did their way of life begin to be underminedHNH: The Indian Government had a territorial dispute with the Chinese, and decided to develop this area as a way of ensuring that it became a closer part of India. Their approach to development was based on a Western model which had nothing to do with local knowledge and resources. This included pushing chemical fertilizers and pesticides, including DDT and other outlawed pesticides. It meant subsidizing white rice and white sugar from the outside. These subsidies for imported food were destroying local food production, and creating a total dependence on imports. It was making the region very vulnerable. Subsidized fossil fuels like kerosene and coal being brought in to heat houses also led to subsidized transport. It meant that roads the government was building were actually destroying the local economy.Tourism also became part of the Indian Government’s plan to develop the area. Nearly every foreigner who came there was just amazed by how peaceful, happy and beautiful the place and people were. The foreigners would say: "Oh, what a paradise. What a pity it has to be destroyed." When I heard this for something like the 100th time, something within me snapped. I was closely involved with the local people, and I knew not a single one of them thought of this as destruction. Not a single local person ever said: "What a pity we have to be destroyed." I realized the foreigners had seen that in the rest of the world this type of economic growth could be very destructive. I also realized the local people knew nothing about it. Around that time I read a book called Small is Beautiful. It gave me the conviction that things could be done differently and meeting the outside world didn’t have to mean destruction.I started talking to the local people about what development had meant in other parts of the world. I realized riley were getting a completely wrong view of what life was like in the West. They were saying: "My God, you must be incredibly wealthy." They were getting an impression that we never need to work, that we have infinite wealth and leisure. It is not that they were unintelligent, but they had limited information about this other world.That led me to realize that I could do work which would provide more accurate information. My goal was not to tell the Ladakhis what to do, not even to tell them that they should stay exactly the way they were, but to provide as much information as possible on what life is really like in the West. That included information on our problems of pollution, unemployment, and poverty, and that a lot of the poverty in the so-called Third World was due to our wealth in the developed world. I also wanted to show that many Westerners who ended up a part of this system were struggling in their own country to find a more environmentally and socially equitable way of living. I gave examples that some people were using solar energy and growing food organically, and implementing a range of more sustainable and equitable alternatives.SI: What kind of response did you get from the LadakhisHNH: On the whole the information was received with great interest and appreciation. The end result was that the message showed them they need not feel ashamed about who they were, or think they were backward or primitive. There were also modernized young men who for a while thought this approach would hold them back, but they have on the whole now changed. I think the support now for this work is tremendous, and growing all the time in Ladakh. Ladakhi people usually ().
Smiling and dapper, Fazle Hasan Abed hardly seems like a revolutionary. A Bangladeshi educated in Britain, an admirer of Shakespeare and Joyce, and a former accountant at Shell, he is the son of a distinguished family, his maternal grandfather was a minister in the colonial government of Bengal; a great-uncle was the first Bengali to serve in the governor of Bengal’s executive council. Now he received a very traditional distinction of his own. a knighthood. Yet the organization he founded, and for which his knighthood is a kind of respect, has probably done more than any single body to upend the traditions of misery and poverty in Bangladesh. Called BRAC, it is by most measures the largest, fastest-growing non-governmental organization (NGO) in the world—and one of the most businesslike.Although Mohammed Yunus won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2006 for helping the poor, his Grameen Bank was neither the first nor the largest microfinance lender in his native Bangladesh; BRAC was. Its microfinance operation disburses about $ 1 billion a year. But this is only part of what it does: it is also an Internet-service provider; it has a university; its primary schools educate 11% of Bangladesh’s children. It runs feed mills, chicken farms, tea plantations and packaging factories. BRAC has shown that NGOs do not need to be small and that a little-known institution from a poor country can outgun famous Western charities.None of this seemed likely in 1970, when Sir Faze turned Shell’s offices in Chittagong into a refuge for victims of a deadly cyclone. BRAC—which started as an acronym, Bangladesh Rehabilitation Assistance Committee, and became a motto, "building resources across communities"—surmounted its early troubles by combining two things that rarely go together: running an NGO as a business and taking seriously the social context of poverty.BRAC earns from its operations about 80% of the money it disburses to the poor (the remainder is aid, mostly from Western donors). It calls a halt to activities that require endless subsidies. At one point, it even tried financing itself from the tiny savings of the poor (is, no aid at all), though this drastic form of self-help proved a step too far. hardly any lenders or borrowers put themselves forward. From the start, Sir Fazle insisted on brutal honesty about results. BRAC pays far more attention to research and "continuous learning" than do most NGOs. David Korten, author of "When Corporations Rule the World", called it "as near to a pure example of a learning organization as one is likely to find. "What makes BRAC unique is its combination of business methods with a particular view of poverty. Poverty is often regarded primarily as an economic problem which can be alleviated by sending money. Influenced by three "liberation thinkers" fashionable in the 1960s—Frantz Fanon, Paulo Freer and Ivan Iliac—Sir Fazle recognized that poverty in Bangladeshi villages is also a result of rigid social stratification. In these circumstances, "community development" will help the rich more than the poor; to change the poverty, you have to change the society.That view might have pointed Sir Fazle towards left-wing politics. Instead, the revolutionary impetus was channeled through BRAC into development. Women became the institution’s focus because they are bottom of the heap and most in need of help: 70% of the children in BRAC schools are girls. Microfinance encourages the poor to save but, unlike the Graeme Bank, BRAC also lends a lot to small companies. Tiny loans may improve the lot of an individual or family but are usually invested in traditional village enterprises, like owning a cow. Sir Fazle’s aim of social change requires not growth (in the sense of more of the same) but development (meaning new and different activities). Only businesses create jobs and new forms of productive enterprise.After 30 years in Bangladesh, BRAC has more or less perfected its way of doing things and is spreading its wings round the developing world. It is already the biggest NGO in Afghanistan, Tanzania and Uganda, overtaking British charities which have been in the latter countries for decades. Coming from a poor country—and a Muslim one, to boot—means it is less likely to be resented or called condescending. Its costs are lower, too. it does not buy large white SUVs or employ large white men.Its expansion overseas may, however, present BRAC with a new problem. Robert Kaplan, an American writer, says that NGOs fill the void between thousands of villages and a remote, often broken, government. BRAC does this triumphantly in Bangladesh—but it is a Bangladeshi organisation. Whether it can do the same elsewhere remains to be seen. The word "disburses" in the second paragraph probably means().
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