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Two tales of orality from Harlow street market
This is a story about primary orality : thought and expression untouched by the culture of writing or print. There are places where language takes root, grows and generally has a field-day. Street markets are full of people who use language to make us listen. Want to know more about the price of cabbages and today's unbeatable offer on sheets and towels? Read on, dear reader.
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The Ferryman
Hi, I'm Gerry The Ferryman. Welcome aboard! Here's a short personal introduction to my blog so you know where I come from.
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Welcome aboard!
Hi, I’m Gerry The Ferryman. My story started out as a Rock Ferryman born in Birkenhead, a town which gazes across the Mersey at Liverpool and its skyline. My family moved south and I grew up in Essex, then studied at Keele but I have lived since then in France, working as a teacher and teacher trainer in EFL, mainly in Toulouse. I am the second in a family of six. My parents christened me Gerald, but over the years I have also been known as Ger, Josh and Gerry. When I met my wife Sylvie, who came in 1974 on a ferry from France for a language holiday in…
