As you can see, North Market features a number of eye-catching signs, which for a budding semiotic researcher, was a welcome sight. For our discussion, we shall start with the main blue shop sign which features the shop’s English name; an Arabic equivalent; the halal logo; a telephone number; the type of food sold; and the countries in which they are imported from. Firstly, I’d like to draw attention to the way it is divided, with the left side written in English, whilst the right side is in Arabic. This signals to me a warm welcome to shoppers of all nationalities and creeds, but the information I obtained from the young Iranian proprietor shared with me suggested that this wasn’t the case.
Upon entering the shop, John instantly struck up an impressive rapport with the shopkeeper (SK), sharing with him our true intentions: To explore the linguistic and semiotic landscape of Burley, and that his shop contained some fascinating artefacts which would greatly benefit our research. Buoyed by our interest in the shop, he invited us to take a look around, and even ensured we indulged in some Iranian sweets (zoolbia bamieh) before we left. However, it was the conversation prior to our sweet desserts which left me craving further frank discussion, free from sugar coating.
According to the SK, his customers were in fact, mainly people seeking to buy halal meat and poultry, so the green language in the windows seemed to be serving its purpose. On the downside, his reasonably priced chicken breasts (one small yellow and red sign on each window) were often overlooked.
‘Why do you think that is?’ I asked.
‘They all go down there, to Tesco, even though mine’s cheaper!’
His reply rode on sharp, sardonic wit. The type built in turmoil, or trenches. He was losing the war, but remained staunch in the fight.
‘The are lots of languages on your signs here’ John stated (referring to the signs inside the shop, which featured multiple languages).
‘Is that a good thing?’ SK enunciated his words slowly, his demeanour almost sheepish.
‘Of course, yes!’ I found myself blurting out, nodding like an overly-apologetic woodpecker.
Unfortunately, a sudden rush of customers entering and requiring help prevented any further dialogue on this occasion. However, after reflecting (Kolb, 1984; Moon, 2004) on the experience and furthering my critical knowledge of semiotics in the hours that followed, I would like to posit some questions regarding this experience. Firstly, would the strategic placement of any British cultural artefacts or symbols* (perhaps a Union Jack) attract more natives into the store? I do not in any way suggest that the customers purchasing halal products were not native British, rather, the clientele were, according to SK, largely attracted by the multitude of halal goods in the shop. Whilst this of course attracts a certain demographic of customers, it may alienate others, especially those, perhaps, who are uncomfortable, or indeed, have no knowledge about halal meat. Having sensed the SK’s frustration surrounding the shop’s inability to sell its halal products to non-Muslims, I began to fully comprehend his quandary after reading that the halal food market in the UK is worth £1bn (Muslim Council of Britain). <https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/may/18/halal-food-uk-ethical-organic-safe> [accessed 24 April 2017].
However, it is worth noting that the store’s flagship drink, Istak, which appears on a large sign on the door, is in fact, an Iranian non-alcoholic beer, which features a paltry 1.5/5 score on the beer enthusiast’s best friend, <https://www.ratebeer.com/beer/istak-malt-natural/80806/>
In this instance, maybe the cultural attachments to the store’s products have less effect than the actual quality of the products. To explore these ponderings in further detail, and posit some additional questions to the SK regarding his background, I will visit the shop on my way home from university next week to hopefully arrange a meeting, and of course, try this beer for myself.
* A form of this particular sign-making practice can be found in Adami’s (2017) study of Leeds Kirkgate market. In this example, a British butcher strategically placed a ‘lucky cat’ next to the belly pork to attract more Chinese customers, due to the cat’s assumed provenance. Furthermore, in the visual, multimodal shop front, the Union Jack and images of Yorkshire are present, further reinforcing the ‘Britishness of their goods as the ‘traditional’ and ‘local’ are used to sell this image. In this case, the butchers’ have cleverly maintained their loyal patrons whilst reaching out the ‘the other’, who are, in this case, the Chinese customers. To some, the butchers’ marketing ploy may seem crude; perhaps a somewhat ‘tacky’ or distasteful move to secure new clientele. This may indeed be true, despite the butcher’s assertion that the Chinese children who frequent his shop ‘love waving to it.’ But do the hand gestures of children equate to intercultural meshing? In any case, I have selected a quote that I feel neatly encapsulates the debate:
‘Meaning is always negotiated in the semiotic process, never simply inexorably from above by an omnipotent author through an absolute code.’ Social semiotics is interested in whats happens in the actions between participants’ (the sign makers and the people who view them).
- Hodge, R., Kress, G. (1988). Social semiotics. Ithaca, New York: Cornell UP, p.12.
In other words, all signs are subjective entities, whose meanings are malleable, so a sign or artefact that prompts one person to buy some belly pork may cause another to head straight to the bar.
More information regarding Adami’s fascinating study can be found in my supporting discussion. Alternatively, the complete paper can be found at: <
https://www.tilburguniversity.edu/upload/0677a845-216b-4fc1-828d-1ec041bfd333_TPCS_177_Adami.pdf
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