You will all have visited websites that present their content in more than one language - and they allow you to select the language in some way. Right now I'm struggling to find examples, but here are some of the more common options:
1. A special front page presenting language options
2. A series of flags on every page (or at least primary pages)
3. A series of translated names with separators (e.g. English | Francais | Deutsch )
4. A drop-down box
5. Some kind of 'world' icon with a link saying something like 'Change Language' (usually in English)
6. Like option 3, but using ISO codes (e.g. EN | FR | DE )
Because this is a vital usability issue, I would have expected to see many erudite blogs and usability articles about it - however, after a protracted bout of surfing, I only found one article that was any use (mind you, it's a good one, particularly comment 29): Indicating language choice: flags, text, both, neither?.
I referred to this article when designing the EntroPay user interface, and ended up using option 3 from the above list, for these reasons:
Option 1: interferes with user flow, especially when trying to 'funnel' users through a sign-up process.
Option 2: You try getting a Mexican to click a Spanish flag to see a page in their language. 'But I'm not Spanish, I'm Mexican, and proud to be Mexican! Goddamn gringo reactionary website, etc.'
Option 4: If a drop-down box defaults to 'English' and you only read Korean script, you will not see the Korean word for 'Korean' anywhere on the page unless you start clicking at random.
Option 5: Same problem as option 4.
Option 6: Useful if space is at a premium, but the elegance breaks for non-Roman alphabets.
I had to revisit the issue recently as the list of languages offered by EntroPay is soon due to expand, and so I again toyed with the other options above, along with some other icon-based solutions, in order to save some space on-screen.
However, at the end of the day, I find that I still believe option 3 is the most usable and sensible way to go, so I'll just have to move some nearby content elsewhere instead.
Post comments with any unusual or innovative language selection methods you've found!
I managed to take a few pics around the house today, and here are some for all you nosey types.
From left to right: some detail of our freshly stained and varnished front door, with cute spyhole that can be opened from the inside; a small niche in the doorway leading to the living room (spot the Reduced Shakespeare Company mug that needs to be put somewhere else); and the view up the steps from the basement to the ground floor.
Finally, a superb example of the GF thinking laterally and managing to create vegetable storage in an otherwise useless corner of the kitchen (the metal plate below conceals the underground well and will soon be given a coat of Hammerite).
The enamel bowls cost €15 for the three, the cord was €4 and the brass hook was salvaged from one of my toolkits.
More soon.
I've received a few requests for photos of the new house, and I realised I hadn't posted any at all (apart from the inside of the main bedroom before we actually moved).
If you're after photos of the whole frontage or street or something like that, you're shit out of luck I'm afraid. I'm not about to publish anything that might reveal precisely where I live to people who know their way around Malta. The internet is home to some very strange people - yes, even stranger than me.
However, as soon as I get a chance I'll take a few detail pics (a window here, a door knocker there) - just to illustrate some of the things that we like about the house, and some of the things we've done to it. A bit of atmosphere. Expect the first few in a week or two.
The dust has started to settle, and now we're kicking it up again with various chunks of work that need doing on the house.
- Front door is stripped, stained and varnished, and its ironwork is repainted
- Curved grill over the dining room window is repainted
- TV, hifi, cable etc are all plumbed in (though I still have to put up the wall-mount speaker stands)
- Internet is in, and I've run a Cat5E link from the router in the living room to an 8-way switch in the basement office (the walls are way too thick for wireless)
- loads of surplus wood has been sawn up for use in the wood fireplace
- Kitchen is in and working, apart from the marble worktops and one extra shelf unit
- Plumber (see below) has been 'retired' and we're getting quotes from another for the remaining plumbing jobs
- Bathroom window is stripped, stained and varnished
- Balconies are now decked with various plant pots, flowers, etc.
All this has of course been achieved along with the hard work of the GF's parents - not just her and me. But I'm still exhausted with all the manual jobs, to the extent that working at the office is almost a nice relaxing break. Almost...
I just realised that after I revamped my blog engine back in February, the little panel that says 'thanks for your comment' after you submit one wasn't being shown.
That was rather rude behaviour (bad blog!) and I have put the matter right. So you can now post your comments in the sure and certain knowledge that my blog will thank you for doing so.
Well, nothing ever goes to plan, and the short story of the move is that it was extremely stressful and not a little chaotic, as with all moves. However, there were two highlights...
Highlight 1 - The Movers
The conversation about six weeks ago went something like:
'So, you'll do everything - packing and moving?'
'Yes, we do everything.'
'And you'll bring us a few boxes a week before so we can pack a few fragile things ourselves?'
'Yes, OK, call me when you need them and I'll bring them over.'
'OK fine, we have a deal.'
The conversation on the morning of moving day went more like:
'But you didn't pack everything. We can't move things like this.'
'Hang on, you said you'd complete the packing. Where are all the boxes you should be bringing?'
'We don't have any boxes. We don't pack, we just move.'
'That's not what we agreed!'
'I never told you we would pack for you.'
'Bullshit! The only reason I chose your quote was because you said you'd pack and move, and came in a bit cheaper than the other company that said the same.'
He then went in to bluster mode, claiming that no Maltese moving company did packing, which was a blatant lie, as the quickest of flicks through the Yellow Pages would show.
After going round in circles for a while, he clearly decided he didn't want to lose the day's income, and miraculously remembered where they could get a big stack of boxes (at their normal supplier, a pulping outfit in Santa Venera). These were duly fetched and in the end we got it all done, with the only breakages being a plastic storage crate that got squashed, and the handle on the bread bin.
Highlight 2 - The Plumber
The final bits of work on the house are still being carried out by various tradesmen under the auspices of our project manager, and on Saturday the plumber was in, to connect the kitchen sink and the appliances (he's also an electrician, allegedly).
We couldn't monitor him, being too busy with the move - and that's the project manager's job anyway. When he finished and left, I found that the power plug had been cut off a portable TV that was in the kitchen - and hadn't reappeared on any of the appliances either. So firstly we have an electrician/plumber (electrumber? plumbician?) who doesn't carry mains plugs, and secondly we have a plumbician who is a thief.
The project manager and I have a call scheduled later today, and I'm kind of looking forward to it.
So anyway, we're in the new house now (which I am really glad about, honest - for all its current issues it's going to be a stunning home in the end), with some rooms already starting to look complete and others still a mess. Inevitably it will take weeks if not months to get things how we want, and we've started work already - hopefully we can keep the inertia going.
This is my last chance to blog before we move house (tomorrow).
However, there's still quite a lot to do tonight, so all I'll say is, wish me luck and I'll give you a debriefing early next week.
Yesterday I became an uncle - how awesome is that? My sister gave birth to her first baby, and mother, father and new daughter are doing fine.
I thought I might suddenly feel older when this happy event occurred - to be honest I actually didn't think I would ever be an uncle until news of my sister's pregnancy came through last autumn - but nothing really feels different, apart from being really happy for my sister and her family.
Hopefully I'll be able to see my new niece when I visit the UK at the end of May, and in the meantime, I'm sure I'll get to hear assorted gurgles and yells over Skype.
It's nearly 4 AM. I'm in the study, working. I've been here for the last 30 minutes, and I've been wide awake since 2.30 AM. Why?
Because just over three months ago, someone who lives three doors away decided that, in a curious denial of all that is logical, a dog was not for life, but was actually just for christmas. A christmas present for their teenage daughter, to be precise.
Said daughter is obviously now bored with her present, and the dog spends its nights in the back yard. Naturally, as soon as it hears a cat, or any movement inside the house where it would no doubt prefer to be, it starts yelping, and usually continues for at least half an hour.
A couple of weeks ago the guy who lives in the apartment above us (and is equally sleep-deprived) actually went round to politely try and talk some sense into the owners (for instance, perhaps if the dog was kept indoors overnight, they would sleep better themselves as well as the rest of the village), but he may as well have been asking a bicycle to sing a duet with him. Apparently they even tried to deny they owned a dog - until he (and they) heard its barking coming from behind a closed door off their hallway.
I've never liked dogs - they're all unhygienic and many of them are dangerous - but right now if I was standing at this family's front door and happened to be carrying a shotgun, I'd be aiming a little higher than the dog.
The two weeks before we move house suddenly seems like two years...
Sometimes there's nothing as satisfying as wielding a hammer and saw destructively.
When we bought our house, there was a horrible old set of furniture in the main bedroom, which we allowed the seller to leave because we thought we might actually need it for a few weeks. Here's a peek, taken before the seller moved out:
Happily, it turns out we won't need it, and today I spent about 4 hours completely destroying the wardrobe and two bedside cabinets, before taking them to the public 'dump' site down the road at Mriehel. Extremely satisfying. Don't worry, it might (or might not) look like an antique, but it definitely wasn't.
Next weekend it's the bed and the chest of drawers, then I can put down the hammer for a bit.
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