History

Have you ever thought about what it would be like to travel back in time a thousand or so years? Have you imagined the culture, the language, the quality of life? I think I would be safe in assuming that I'm not the only one - the academic pursuits of history, anthropology and the humanities are founded on our natural curiosity; our desire to know, understand and imagine 'what came before'.
But today I'm not interested in how the Mesopotamians organised their calendar or how the architecture of Gaul was influenced by Roman occupation. I'm not concerned by the dental hygiene of the Incans or the wedding rituals of the Goths. Actually, I am interested in all of those things. But not as much as I'm interested in this:
Excluding all language barriers and technological gaps, how would a person from any of these civilisations view us?
Our semiotic code, even down to our use of gesture and expression, has evolved from being culturally-specific to a more universally-recognised 'language'. The high-five is perceived as a sign of congratulations, fellowship and goodwill in the USA, but also in the former Soviet Union. A wink is as good as a nod to a blind bat in New Zealand and Portugal alike. With the exception of the world's most isolated and impoverished comminities (for whom access to global media is limited), our repertoire of internationally-recognised symbols is vast.
So what would happen if I were to visit Ancient Greece and go in for the fist bump? If an Aztec saw me sucking face with someone (because that's likely), would they think we were conducting some elaborate tongue-battle? If a Roman met a Roman-Catholic and saw the crucifix about their neck, would they find it about as tasteful as wearing a guillotine during the French Revolution?
Today we have a coda which enables us to communicate effectively with others even in situations where language and technology are not accessible. I don't need to be able to use google.translate to visit France and communicate my need to use a bathroom. No Turkish required to order a piece of Turkish delight. The fundamental needs - food, shelter, bathroom facilities - are all easily communicated through a delightful array of gestures, images and facial expressions.
But to someone completely locked out of that discourse, how must we look? If the miracle (or curse) of time travel should ever eventuate, how easily would I be able to order a honey cake or ask for the vomitorium? Even if I were fortunate enough to find myself in a civilisation speaking an earlier dialect of which modern English is derived, I imagine it would be difficult to make my meaning clear.
So I suppose that's what this entry is about, really. The idea of being locked out of an entire culture because of a total lack of commonality.
I don't know if this entry will be interesting to anyone else... probably not. But these are the kinds of things I think of when I let my mind wander.

If you aren't already sick of my work blogs, let me know. I may just post another one or two before I finish there forever. you snooze, you lose!