Tuesday, March 22, 2011
A Poem
In Pinyin, Chinglish, and English:
nǐ zhàn zài qiáo shàng kàn fēng jǐng
kàn fēng jǐng de rén zài lóu shàng kàn nǐ
míng yuè zhuāng shì le nǐ de chuāng zi
nǐ zhuāng shì le bié rén de mèng
You stand on bridge look at scenery
look at scenery person is behind on building look at you
bright moon decoration your window
you decoration other person's dream
You stand on a bridge looking at the scenery
Another scenery-viewer stands behind looking at you
A bright moon adorns your window
You adorn the other one's dreams
nǐ zhàn zài qiáo shàng kàn fēng jǐng
kàn fēng jǐng de rén zài lóu shàng kàn nǐ
míng yuè zhuāng shì le nǐ de chuāng zi
nǐ zhuāng shì le bié rén de mèng
You stand on bridge look at scenery
look at scenery person is behind on building look at you
bright moon decoration your window
you decoration other person's dream
You stand on a bridge looking at the scenery
Another scenery-viewer stands behind looking at you
A bright moon adorns your window
You adorn the other one's dreams
Climate Situation
Omg. Distress. Recently it's been pants-and-a-cardigan weather, with occasional drizzly rain and chilly breezes. But yesterday it was that, with hanging wetness EVERYWHERE. (not just outside.) When I woke up, I noticed my hair hadn't dried from washing it the night before, and I thought, oh weird maybe I haven't slept long enough. Then as I was leaving my apartment, I noticed the concrete floors in the stairwell were sopping wet, and I thought, oh weird it must have rained last night. Then when I got to the bakery, I noticed the floors were wet and muddy like people's shoes were wet, and I thought, oh weird the ground outside must really be wetter than I thought. But then I noticed that I seemed to be sweating even though it was chilly! And then I knew - not rain, not fog, but...humidity. Everywhere I went the tiled floors were dangerously slippery, and the clothes I hung out to dry were still not dry after 24 hours outside, and the mirrors in our apartment had a permanent dewy film that refused to be wiped away. I had class at 7PM and somehow it was even worse inside the classroom. I said to my students, students, this is unbelievable. My hair is soggy and your desks are wet. And they were like, yeah, all the students from the north are complaining about it. But it's like this every Spring.
People say that there are no heaters in the buildings in the south because Chinese people think it's OK to suffer for a little bit. Like, if it's only going to be cold for 3 months, it's not worth it to do anything about it. Just be cold for those three months. OK, fine. Before it got cold, it was pleasant for about a month and a half. But before that, it was uncomfortably hot and wet - and when it's uncomfortable outside, it's uncomfortable inside because the little AC units aren't powerful enough to combat it. So it was like that when I got here in September until November, nice for a while, then cold (still wet) until February, nice for a few weeks, and now it's probably going to be soggy like this until late April or something when it gets hot again. So I don't really get the "suffering for a few months" thing. It seems like the climate is uncomfortable all the time except a short while in November and March. Which would be one thing if it was only uncomfortable outside. I would still whine about it if I was only uncomfortable outside. But since the "indoor" areas don't really function like indoor areas - that is, to protect from the elements - when you're inside you might be sitting in a chair rather than on the grass but you're still experiencing whatever is happening outside. I guess a little suffering is good for a person. But...gosh.
People say that there are no heaters in the buildings in the south because Chinese people think it's OK to suffer for a little bit. Like, if it's only going to be cold for 3 months, it's not worth it to do anything about it. Just be cold for those three months. OK, fine. Before it got cold, it was pleasant for about a month and a half. But before that, it was uncomfortably hot and wet - and when it's uncomfortable outside, it's uncomfortable inside because the little AC units aren't powerful enough to combat it. So it was like that when I got here in September until November, nice for a while, then cold (still wet) until February, nice for a few weeks, and now it's probably going to be soggy like this until late April or something when it gets hot again. So I don't really get the "suffering for a few months" thing. It seems like the climate is uncomfortable all the time except a short while in November and March. Which would be one thing if it was only uncomfortable outside. I would still whine about it if I was only uncomfortable outside. But since the "indoor" areas don't really function like indoor areas - that is, to protect from the elements - when you're inside you might be sitting in a chair rather than on the grass but you're still experiencing whatever is happening outside. I guess a little suffering is good for a person. But...gosh.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Saudi Arabia and I
Here's a story to tell your girlfriends:
(and I've already told mine, so you're getting well-digested info.)
Three nights ago, Saturday night, I was going to cook and have C over but he called and said these two friends of his invited us both to a late dinner get-together at their off-campus apartment. I had met these two friends of his (with names that sound like Toork-heh and Mahw-hih) last semester when they invited us out to dinner. I didn't get the scoop on them beforehand, so in the first few minutes of conversation I learned they were from Saudi Arabia but I think I didn't fully process the information. I was mildly uncomfortable at dinner but only because I was the sole woman with three dudes.
So when C suggested we go, I thought it would be those two guys and maybe an additional friend, or a gathering of random international students. We both got a little spiffed up and took a cab to their apartment complex, which is one of the seemingly many of its kind in Zhuhai. These complexes are big gated neighborhoods filled with townhouse-like apartments, all the same. The apartments themselves are brand new and beautiful, and the landscaping is all perfect with wrought-iron bridges over man-made lakes and such. It sort of reminds me of Florida. The aesthetic is like new tacky Floridian developments. The rent at these places is about 2,500 yuan per month between three people, which is about 120 dollars per month per person. This is like the best deal ever, as the apartments are beautiful and comfortable and spacious, but I have no idea who lives in all the rest of them. That rent is way too high for most Chinese folks and it's not like north Zhuhai has a big enough foreign population to fill even a percentage of the apartments available. Anyway, when we got there one of the dudes met us downstairs and led us up to the apartment, where I discovered that this was not an intimate dinner party but a gathering of 10 (ten) TEN Saudi Arabian guys. Ten curly-haired, cigarette and hookah-smoking, floor-sitting Arabians, my boyfriend, and sparkly-eye-shadowed-and-bangle-wristed-me.
So, I panic a little inside, but do my best to remain calm and charming (but not too obviously outgoing-ly American). I'm not sure whether to shake hands or not, as two of the Egyptian men on campus won't touch women and I don't know the rules with these guys. But they all reach out to shake mine, and I take my shoes off, and they tell me to have a seat on the couch.
And then, a funny thing happened: they acted totally normal. Normal by my standards, that is. OK, not totally. But quite.
These guys are clearly loaded - some of them are wearing Dolce & Gabbana t-shirts, and there are a few laptops lying around with a fancy speakers hooked up to one, and they have a flatscreen TV that they're using to play video games, and they have "five or six motorbikes, between the three apartments" and they just give off that...wealthy vibe. A few of them seem younger and timid, but most of them take turns sitting next to me and chatting, or showing me something in the apartment. They're all very friendly and open, but not childishly eager like so many Chinese peers. Just normal. A lot of them are smoking but nobody is drinking, which upps their legitimacy as Muslims in C's eyes. I can't help but feeling like I'm totally crashing their dude party, but they're not acting like I have - and they invited me, after all - so I try to play along. They mostly speak in Arabic, with C, but switch to English to talk to me. They pretty much speak lovely English, which makes me feel guilty for not knowing Arabic. I think the cadence and rhythm of Arabic must be much closer to English than Chinese is, because even the Chinese folks with the best English skills sound so much more foreign to me than the Saudi dudes with shaky English did. I don't mind having lighter skin than all the other people in a full room, but sitting around looking at all this thick black hair really makes me aware of my screaming blond curls. It's funny to feel so conspicuous. Being conscious of my hair like that almost makes me want to...put it under a scarf. HAHA. Just kidding. But not really.
When it's time to eat, they put a plastic cloth down over the rug, and bring out big bowls of delicious-smelling stuff and bread and drinks. They apologize that we're eating on the floor, which doesn't bother me at all because I had anticipated this and worn appropriate clothing. Someone pours me a drink and they're all very concerned that I'll like the food. I see that they are going to eat with their hands, but they give me a bowl and spoon. The thought crosses my mind that maybe this is so I'm not reaching into the common dishes with them, and maybe I'm supposed to wait for someone to serve me. But then the one next to me says, "Please help yourself!" Now, I generally eat just about anything, and like it, too, but I reeeeally liked this meal. There was rice with chicken and a light sauce, and a vegetabley cold salad, and not-too-spicy soup with potatoes and cabbage and some unfamiliar spices. Then afterward, they brought out pineapple on sticks and tea with dried mint. I was so impressed with these dudes' organization and competency as hosts!
After that we hung out for a while more, as the dudes who hadn't cooked washed the dishes and the rest lounged around smoking and commenting on the soccer game on TV. We left around midnight, to protests that we were going too early. One guy offered to lend us his motorcycle to get home, but I wasn't about to let C experiment with such a machine with me helpless on the back, so the guy walked us to the gate and we got a cab. Then I (calmly) said to C, yo man, you didn't tell me there would be ten of them there. I shouldn't have been there. And he was like, what do you mean, what's the problem? And I was like, no problem, but even if they were all American guys I would be a little uncomfortable. And he was like, I don't see the problem. haha. And then I said, You know Americans are scared of people from Saudi Arabia, right? And this, I didn't say, but was thinking: Just because I'm educated, and am living in China, doesn't mean I'm free from the prejudices and biases that other Americans have. Just because I know better doesn't mean I'm different than everybody else. And he was like...I don't understand what the problem is. lol.
There wasn't any problem, really. Just that I assumed there would be. Probably if you proceed in such situations as if you will be completely unable to relate to someone else, it will be true. Like if you assume people are going to persecute you for being of a certain whatever-you-are, and proceed as if it is true, then it will be true.
So here is the moral. Based on my experience thus far, I would like to suggest that if Americans are going to be scared of Middle Eastern people, they should be equally as afraid of Chinese people. These guys were very polite, nice, genuine-seeming. They are obviously sensitive to how I expect to be treated. They are obviously aware that I expect them to engage me in real conversations, and to eat with a utensil, and to be included rather than put on a pedestal on account of my foreignness. They sort of just seemed like rich Americans, but a little different, rather than people from some part of the world I've never seen. They didn't feel nearly as "foreign" to me as Chinese people do, even after interacting with Chinese people day after day, month after month. Their manner of social interaction, at least in relation to me, was familiar. I'm sure the wealth is part of it, but not all of it. If we are going to scared of them, I think it should be partly because they either know how to play our game or use the same game themselves. If they are really so foreign, and have crazy ideas, then whatever, I don't know enough about politics to make my own judgments, but if you're going to be afraid of them then you should keep in mind that they probably know more than you think they do about why you're afraid. If you're going to be afraid of China, I'm not saying you shouldn't be, because the Chinese are aliens. As hard as I try to exercise my openmindedness and gloss over the cultural differences - it's a small world after all, we all have the same dreams and hopes, you know - socially, Chinese people are foreign. They do NOT know how to play our game, they do NOT know how we expect to be treated. And I'm not saying they should, obviously! I don't see any non-American reason why they should learn. But, they haven't.
I'm just saying, if you're going to be afraid of people, you might consider choosing the people who organize their thoughts differently than we do, who don't know how to rationalize in the "usual" manner.
The next day when I was telling my roommate about it, the first thing she said, only half-jokingly, was, "Oh...do you think they were offended by your bare head?" This was relieving, as I had been worrying that I was over-analyzing the situation and shouldn't have even considered that they would be offended by my bare head. I said, Probably, but they didn't act like it. And after I had given her the full synopsis she said, Look at you, Zoe, look at all these cool things you're getting to do that you wouldn't otherwise be able to!
Damn straight. This was also comforting, as confirmation that these situations are truly novel and I have the right to be mildly frightened.
If they invite us over again, I'm gonna try to sneak in a few of my *single* American girlfriends with me, and...see what happens. I'm fascinated.
(and I've already told mine, so you're getting well-digested info.)
Three nights ago, Saturday night, I was going to cook and have C over but he called and said these two friends of his invited us both to a late dinner get-together at their off-campus apartment. I had met these two friends of his (with names that sound like Toork-heh and Mahw-hih) last semester when they invited us out to dinner. I didn't get the scoop on them beforehand, so in the first few minutes of conversation I learned they were from Saudi Arabia but I think I didn't fully process the information. I was mildly uncomfortable at dinner but only because I was the sole woman with three dudes.
So when C suggested we go, I thought it would be those two guys and maybe an additional friend, or a gathering of random international students. We both got a little spiffed up and took a cab to their apartment complex, which is one of the seemingly many of its kind in Zhuhai. These complexes are big gated neighborhoods filled with townhouse-like apartments, all the same. The apartments themselves are brand new and beautiful, and the landscaping is all perfect with wrought-iron bridges over man-made lakes and such. It sort of reminds me of Florida. The aesthetic is like new tacky Floridian developments. The rent at these places is about 2,500 yuan per month between three people, which is about 120 dollars per month per person. This is like the best deal ever, as the apartments are beautiful and comfortable and spacious, but I have no idea who lives in all the rest of them. That rent is way too high for most Chinese folks and it's not like north Zhuhai has a big enough foreign population to fill even a percentage of the apartments available. Anyway, when we got there one of the dudes met us downstairs and led us up to the apartment, where I discovered that this was not an intimate dinner party but a gathering of 10 (ten) TEN Saudi Arabian guys. Ten curly-haired, cigarette and hookah-smoking, floor-sitting Arabians, my boyfriend, and sparkly-eye-shadowed-and-bangle-wristed-me.
So, I panic a little inside, but do my best to remain calm and charming (but not too obviously outgoing-ly American). I'm not sure whether to shake hands or not, as two of the Egyptian men on campus won't touch women and I don't know the rules with these guys. But they all reach out to shake mine, and I take my shoes off, and they tell me to have a seat on the couch.
And then, a funny thing happened: they acted totally normal. Normal by my standards, that is. OK, not totally. But quite.
These guys are clearly loaded - some of them are wearing Dolce & Gabbana t-shirts, and there are a few laptops lying around with a fancy speakers hooked up to one, and they have a flatscreen TV that they're using to play video games, and they have "five or six motorbikes, between the three apartments" and they just give off that...wealthy vibe. A few of them seem younger and timid, but most of them take turns sitting next to me and chatting, or showing me something in the apartment. They're all very friendly and open, but not childishly eager like so many Chinese peers. Just normal. A lot of them are smoking but nobody is drinking, which upps their legitimacy as Muslims in C's eyes. I can't help but feeling like I'm totally crashing their dude party, but they're not acting like I have - and they invited me, after all - so I try to play along. They mostly speak in Arabic, with C, but switch to English to talk to me. They pretty much speak lovely English, which makes me feel guilty for not knowing Arabic. I think the cadence and rhythm of Arabic must be much closer to English than Chinese is, because even the Chinese folks with the best English skills sound so much more foreign to me than the Saudi dudes with shaky English did. I don't mind having lighter skin than all the other people in a full room, but sitting around looking at all this thick black hair really makes me aware of my screaming blond curls. It's funny to feel so conspicuous. Being conscious of my hair like that almost makes me want to...put it under a scarf. HAHA. Just kidding. But not really.
When it's time to eat, they put a plastic cloth down over the rug, and bring out big bowls of delicious-smelling stuff and bread and drinks. They apologize that we're eating on the floor, which doesn't bother me at all because I had anticipated this and worn appropriate clothing. Someone pours me a drink and they're all very concerned that I'll like the food. I see that they are going to eat with their hands, but they give me a bowl and spoon. The thought crosses my mind that maybe this is so I'm not reaching into the common dishes with them, and maybe I'm supposed to wait for someone to serve me. But then the one next to me says, "Please help yourself!" Now, I generally eat just about anything, and like it, too, but I reeeeally liked this meal. There was rice with chicken and a light sauce, and a vegetabley cold salad, and not-too-spicy soup with potatoes and cabbage and some unfamiliar spices. Then afterward, they brought out pineapple on sticks and tea with dried mint. I was so impressed with these dudes' organization and competency as hosts!
After that we hung out for a while more, as the dudes who hadn't cooked washed the dishes and the rest lounged around smoking and commenting on the soccer game on TV. We left around midnight, to protests that we were going too early. One guy offered to lend us his motorcycle to get home, but I wasn't about to let C experiment with such a machine with me helpless on the back, so the guy walked us to the gate and we got a cab. Then I (calmly) said to C, yo man, you didn't tell me there would be ten of them there. I shouldn't have been there. And he was like, what do you mean, what's the problem? And I was like, no problem, but even if they were all American guys I would be a little uncomfortable. And he was like, I don't see the problem. haha. And then I said, You know Americans are scared of people from Saudi Arabia, right? And this, I didn't say, but was thinking: Just because I'm educated, and am living in China, doesn't mean I'm free from the prejudices and biases that other Americans have. Just because I know better doesn't mean I'm different than everybody else. And he was like...I don't understand what the problem is. lol.
There wasn't any problem, really. Just that I assumed there would be. Probably if you proceed in such situations as if you will be completely unable to relate to someone else, it will be true. Like if you assume people are going to persecute you for being of a certain whatever-you-are, and proceed as if it is true, then it will be true.
So here is the moral. Based on my experience thus far, I would like to suggest that if Americans are going to be scared of Middle Eastern people, they should be equally as afraid of Chinese people. These guys were very polite, nice, genuine-seeming. They are obviously sensitive to how I expect to be treated. They are obviously aware that I expect them to engage me in real conversations, and to eat with a utensil, and to be included rather than put on a pedestal on account of my foreignness. They sort of just seemed like rich Americans, but a little different, rather than people from some part of the world I've never seen. They didn't feel nearly as "foreign" to me as Chinese people do, even after interacting with Chinese people day after day, month after month. Their manner of social interaction, at least in relation to me, was familiar. I'm sure the wealth is part of it, but not all of it. If we are going to scared of them, I think it should be partly because they either know how to play our game or use the same game themselves. If they are really so foreign, and have crazy ideas, then whatever, I don't know enough about politics to make my own judgments, but if you're going to be afraid of them then you should keep in mind that they probably know more than you think they do about why you're afraid. If you're going to be afraid of China, I'm not saying you shouldn't be, because the Chinese are aliens. As hard as I try to exercise my openmindedness and gloss over the cultural differences - it's a small world after all, we all have the same dreams and hopes, you know - socially, Chinese people are foreign. They do NOT know how to play our game, they do NOT know how we expect to be treated. And I'm not saying they should, obviously! I don't see any non-American reason why they should learn. But, they haven't.
I'm just saying, if you're going to be afraid of people, you might consider choosing the people who organize their thoughts differently than we do, who don't know how to rationalize in the "usual" manner.
The next day when I was telling my roommate about it, the first thing she said, only half-jokingly, was, "Oh...do you think they were offended by your bare head?" This was relieving, as I had been worrying that I was over-analyzing the situation and shouldn't have even considered that they would be offended by my bare head. I said, Probably, but they didn't act like it. And after I had given her the full synopsis she said, Look at you, Zoe, look at all these cool things you're getting to do that you wouldn't otherwise be able to!
Damn straight. This was also comforting, as confirmation that these situations are truly novel and I have the right to be mildly frightened.
If they invite us over again, I'm gonna try to sneak in a few of my *single* American girlfriends with me, and...see what happens. I'm fascinated.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Apology/Disclaimer
for the length of the posts recently. Honestly, people, even you parents, don't feel pressured to read it all. I'm just rambling for my own sake. I think I've been here long enough that I'm starting to be able to make sense of things. And when stuff is no longer totally overwhelming, no longer leaves you open-mouthed and dazed...it leaves you with a lot on your mind.
Two Things I Find Liberating About Living in China
1. Making a mess at the dinner table
At all the Chinese restaurants I've been to, it's expected to make a complete mess of the table by the end of the meal. When you're finished, the waiter comes over and picks up the tablecloth, with all kinds of crap inside, wipes off the table, and puts on a new tablecloth. Some of the mess is unavoidable, but most could be controlled by Western dining standards. All the food is placed in the middle of the table, so that everyone shares, and with chopsticks being what they are, sometimes stuff is dropped before it makes it to your bowl. Also, you don't eat off a big round plate like in the states. Instead you use a little dessert-sized plate underneath a small rice bowl. So sometimes stuff is lost to the sides of your dessert plate before it makes it to your mouth. Chinese food tends to be drenched in some sort of sauce, so splatters and drips are also common. At the beginning of the meal, your dishware is all wrapped up in plastic, so after you unwrap it there is usually some stray plastic hanging around the table that didn't get picked up. The teapots ALL have inefficient spouts and pour sporadically - even when the waitress does it - so there are always wet spots on your tablecloth. Meat in Chinese dishes almost always has bones, which you're supposed to spit out (I can't bring myself to do this and use my chopsticks) onto your little plate or onto the table. So there are usually bones and meat remnants all over. Restaurants (unless you're at a fancy place) don't give you a napkin for your lap, but instead have either a roll of toilet paper sitting at the table or a little packet of paper napkins. Both kinds are thin and get used quickly and end up in bunches on the table. So you can imagine what the table looks like at the end of a meal, even just with two diners. In the states, even at fast food joints, you purposely try not to make a mess while you're eating. Whether you are aware of it or not, you're constantly checking that all your food is on your plate, there's no sauce smear across your cheek, you don't drip the ketchup on the tablecloth. And if at a slightly-above-average place, you make sure you're using your silverware nicely, and not talking with your mouth full, and when you're done you put your napkin right next to your plate. If you were on a date you might consciously not order spaghetti, for fear of fork-twirling messiness. At normal Chinese places there is none of that. At first the lack of Western politeness habits scared me, naturally. But now... I think it's so much more comfortable. It's like playing in the mud when you're a kid. You know you'll get dirty and you don't care because you're having fun in the meantime. I dunno. I think it is freeing to make a mess and not have to feel guilty about it, or think people are judging you, or worry about cleaning up after.
Obviously I see the benefits of our Western practices in this regard. We're more civilized, by Western standards. But the Chinese don't use Western standards - they don't use our definition of "civilized" - and I also see the benefits of their methods, in this case.
I was thinking about this because last night me and C had plans to go out to eat, and I wanted to try a new restaurant. We weren't going to do anything fancy, but I still worried about what to wear, and put on some perfume, and when I got to his room he was also wearing dress pants and his nice shoes. So we felt very special. We found the place that one of my friends had recommended, and there were two people waiting at the front doors who said "Good evening, welcome to our restaurant, just two guests?" like we were indeed very special. And they brought over cold salads, like fancy places do, and a menu with (hilariously whack) English descriptions, and were very friendly and helpful and the food was really really good. But even at a nicer place like this (although 'nice' wouldn't be the first word that popped into ya'll's head if you saw it, but just trust me)...everyone still eats with the sense of restraint of a three-year-old. And I like it.
2. Spending a lot of time speaking in Chingibberlish
I know you all are sick of hearing about this African person I happen to be dating, but he is my best friend here and my experience of China is completely intertwined with my experience of him. So you'll have to just deal. So. Obviously, it's restricting to have to communicate with a language I speak so little of, with such a limited vocabulary. Furthermore I'm an illiterate Chinese speaker, as pretty much the only characters I recognize are those for "bathroom," "woman," "today," "person," "month," "exit," "the," and "Sun Yat-sen University." My language skills do limit my opportunities for engagement with the culture, as well as my ability to express and understand ideas with non-English speaking Chinese people. That said, although it is absolutely easier to communicate with my American friends than it is with Cheikh, at this point, six months in, it is rare for us to have trouble communicating a main idea or feeling. The verbal language we speak doesn't allow for communication of too many details - we get some details from non-verbal communication - but this is the point. Ok so wait, this is complicated:
First, I am constantly learning more and more about Chinese as a language. I've come to believe that one of the main differences between Chinese and English is that Chinese is shorter, with less words, and generally more concise. Whether this makes it more clear, or less clear, I think is debatable. Chinese has nowhere near the amount of grammar that English does - in Chinese, I go, you go, he go, it go, I is, you is, we is, she is, they is. What did you do yesterday? = you yesterday do what? What will you do tomorrow? = you tomorrow do what? Comparatively, English has all these little stupid words, all these confusing sentence structures, no rules to follow. When I say something, and C wants to know how to say it in English, I usually struggle to find a way to say it that's easy enough for him to understand. Like,
Z: Deng yi xia, wo xiang xiang.
C: OK. How say English?
Z: Um...'wait a second, I have to think about it.'
C: What?!?
Z: uhhh...wait, I...uh...'wait a second, I will think.'
C: ...wait second, I ...what?
Z: you can say, 'wait wait, I think.'
C: OK. wait wait, I think.
Z: good.
The English translation always seems more complicated than its Chinese counterpart. And I don't think this is something I made up. The other day my new Chinese tutor was explaining to me that in ancient Chinese, there might be a very long and detailed story told with just one line of characters. And there was no punctuation - you had to add that yourself. Like, Chinese favors brevity where English favors countless "to"'s and "the"'s and "for"'s. Even that sentence I used in that example - How say English? Now, in context, I'm pretty sure you all had no trouble understanding that in this case, "How say English" means "How do you say that in English?" but what the hell is with all those other little words?
So, Chinese is already by nature more straightforward than the language I'm writing in. It's language with less nuance-y details and more specific ways of saying things. Add to this the pronunciation of tones, and I don't think anyone would argue that there is markedly less freedom in Chinese than in English. I have felt that all along in terms of pronunciation - I think the reason I have such a knack for speaking, and why I genuinely enjoy speaking in tones, is the same reason I loved my ballet class at Skidmore, and one of the reasons I love playing classical music. For some reason, working within a very structured system feels good to me. Being constrained - following set harmonic structures, balancing four independent lines, pointing your toes at just this angle, keeping your torso unnaturally poised, using a predetermined inflection to say every syllable in a phrase - somehow allows me to feel more free.
But this isn't the point. So, if Chinese is already more concise than the language I'm used to, the language that me and C use to converse is even more so. We don't speak Chinese together - we speak Chinese-based syntax-free gibberish with big words like "internet," "government," and "semester," in English. The language we use takes Chinese, and simplifies it even further, so that we essentially speak in meaning rather than in any particular language. And why do we need anything more than meaning? Obviously I know that there is a lot more that goes into modern language than absolute meaning. Cavemen speak in meaning. Poets and journalists and Skidmore college students speak in intricacy. But what I'm saying is, maybe, it feels good to be a cavewoman. And you don't need anything more than that to relate to or love someone, obviously. At times when I have a more complicated idea I need to express, or when I have to resort to google translate or a dictionary, then I feel restricted and frustrated. But most times, when we can have a meaningful conversation using the most rudimentary words and structures, I feel liberated. At times like that I feel like we are conversing in language free of culture - like a bigger language that is based on meaning that everyone in the world might understand, rather than something particular to a certain people. And this is refreshing. Like when I say, "Hey, C, ni yao bu yao wan shang qu...nage...wo bu zhi dao na li ke shi wo men last week qu le, you shu fu de yizi." = Hey, C, you want not want tonight go...that...i don't know where but we last week went, has comfort chairs = Hey, C, tonight do you want to go to that place...I'm can't remember where it is but we went last week, it was the place with comfortable chairs.
If I said that to a Chinese speaker they would first have to wade through the incorrect sentence structure before they understood the meaning. Same with an English speaker. But because the compromise between English, Chinese, and Arabic for us is just meaning, he has no trouble understanding.
Last night, when we were walking back from the restaurant, we had a real conversation about Chinese people. Here is an approximate literal English translation:
C: They think what? They want what things?
Z: I think they want happy.
C: Every person wants happy. They only think think this and this *indicates stomach and crotch
Z: True.
C: They have no democracy, but no think that, their brains closed, but no think that, don't have foreigners, don't want to go to other countries, them it doesn't matter. They are crazy! They are doing what?!
Z: I know but, China very old person. no no, old country. old country not person. America has many countries, very open, because America not old.
C: I know but in Mauritania, university people, every time every time, why is this government bad, why is this law bad, this is good, this is not good, etc. etc. Mauritania people can think!
Z: I understand. But Mauritania has many French people. and not too old. China 2,000 years very closed - 2,000 years! Every year Chinese people marry Chinese people, do not go other countries, China afraid other countries, 2,000 years Chinese people think and live China China China.
C: Right! bad! Why? 1.3 million people think China China China, not good!
Z: 1.3 billion.
C: Right. What can be done?
Z: Yes, I don't know, you're right, what can be done?
Funny, at first, but if I forget about how silly it might sound to someone who has never had to converse in an unfamiliar language, it feels so natural. And also, it's like, taking your brain out of the patterns and structures you're used to and utilizing different pathways. I mean this is always what learning a new language is about. Picking up your brain, extracting your thoughts from the thought patterns you're used to using, and setting it back down on top of a different roadmap. Learning anything new is like this I guess. Calculus. Guitar. I guess it just feels more extreme for me, because I depend on the new roadmap to take me places every single day.
So although at first it seems like dealing with this situation would prove limiting, but actually I feel like I've gained a whole new manner of expression. Like now, I have more to work with instead of less. This has got to be the end of this post.
At all the Chinese restaurants I've been to, it's expected to make a complete mess of the table by the end of the meal. When you're finished, the waiter comes over and picks up the tablecloth, with all kinds of crap inside, wipes off the table, and puts on a new tablecloth. Some of the mess is unavoidable, but most could be controlled by Western dining standards. All the food is placed in the middle of the table, so that everyone shares, and with chopsticks being what they are, sometimes stuff is dropped before it makes it to your bowl. Also, you don't eat off a big round plate like in the states. Instead you use a little dessert-sized plate underneath a small rice bowl. So sometimes stuff is lost to the sides of your dessert plate before it makes it to your mouth. Chinese food tends to be drenched in some sort of sauce, so splatters and drips are also common. At the beginning of the meal, your dishware is all wrapped up in plastic, so after you unwrap it there is usually some stray plastic hanging around the table that didn't get picked up. The teapots ALL have inefficient spouts and pour sporadically - even when the waitress does it - so there are always wet spots on your tablecloth. Meat in Chinese dishes almost always has bones, which you're supposed to spit out (I can't bring myself to do this and use my chopsticks) onto your little plate or onto the table. So there are usually bones and meat remnants all over. Restaurants (unless you're at a fancy place) don't give you a napkin for your lap, but instead have either a roll of toilet paper sitting at the table or a little packet of paper napkins. Both kinds are thin and get used quickly and end up in bunches on the table. So you can imagine what the table looks like at the end of a meal, even just with two diners. In the states, even at fast food joints, you purposely try not to make a mess while you're eating. Whether you are aware of it or not, you're constantly checking that all your food is on your plate, there's no sauce smear across your cheek, you don't drip the ketchup on the tablecloth. And if at a slightly-above-average place, you make sure you're using your silverware nicely, and not talking with your mouth full, and when you're done you put your napkin right next to your plate. If you were on a date you might consciously not order spaghetti, for fear of fork-twirling messiness. At normal Chinese places there is none of that. At first the lack of Western politeness habits scared me, naturally. But now... I think it's so much more comfortable. It's like playing in the mud when you're a kid. You know you'll get dirty and you don't care because you're having fun in the meantime. I dunno. I think it is freeing to make a mess and not have to feel guilty about it, or think people are judging you, or worry about cleaning up after.
Obviously I see the benefits of our Western practices in this regard. We're more civilized, by Western standards. But the Chinese don't use Western standards - they don't use our definition of "civilized" - and I also see the benefits of their methods, in this case.
I was thinking about this because last night me and C had plans to go out to eat, and I wanted to try a new restaurant. We weren't going to do anything fancy, but I still worried about what to wear, and put on some perfume, and when I got to his room he was also wearing dress pants and his nice shoes. So we felt very special. We found the place that one of my friends had recommended, and there were two people waiting at the front doors who said "Good evening, welcome to our restaurant, just two guests?" like we were indeed very special. And they brought over cold salads, like fancy places do, and a menu with (hilariously whack) English descriptions, and were very friendly and helpful and the food was really really good. But even at a nicer place like this (although 'nice' wouldn't be the first word that popped into ya'll's head if you saw it, but just trust me)...everyone still eats with the sense of restraint of a three-year-old. And I like it.
2. Spending a lot of time speaking in Chingibberlish
I know you all are sick of hearing about this African person I happen to be dating, but he is my best friend here and my experience of China is completely intertwined with my experience of him. So you'll have to just deal. So. Obviously, it's restricting to have to communicate with a language I speak so little of, with such a limited vocabulary. Furthermore I'm an illiterate Chinese speaker, as pretty much the only characters I recognize are those for "bathroom," "woman," "today," "person," "month," "exit," "the," and "Sun Yat-sen University." My language skills do limit my opportunities for engagement with the culture, as well as my ability to express and understand ideas with non-English speaking Chinese people. That said, although it is absolutely easier to communicate with my American friends than it is with Cheikh, at this point, six months in, it is rare for us to have trouble communicating a main idea or feeling. The verbal language we speak doesn't allow for communication of too many details - we get some details from non-verbal communication - but this is the point. Ok so wait, this is complicated:
First, I am constantly learning more and more about Chinese as a language. I've come to believe that one of the main differences between Chinese and English is that Chinese is shorter, with less words, and generally more concise. Whether this makes it more clear, or less clear, I think is debatable. Chinese has nowhere near the amount of grammar that English does - in Chinese, I go, you go, he go, it go, I is, you is, we is, she is, they is. What did you do yesterday? = you yesterday do what? What will you do tomorrow? = you tomorrow do what? Comparatively, English has all these little stupid words, all these confusing sentence structures, no rules to follow. When I say something, and C wants to know how to say it in English, I usually struggle to find a way to say it that's easy enough for him to understand. Like,
Z: Deng yi xia, wo xiang xiang.
C: OK. How say English?
Z: Um...'wait a second, I have to think about it.'
C: What?!?
Z: uhhh...wait, I...uh...'wait a second, I will think.'
C: ...wait second, I ...what?
Z: you can say, 'wait wait, I think.'
C: OK. wait wait, I think.
Z: good.
The English translation always seems more complicated than its Chinese counterpart. And I don't think this is something I made up. The other day my new Chinese tutor was explaining to me that in ancient Chinese, there might be a very long and detailed story told with just one line of characters. And there was no punctuation - you had to add that yourself. Like, Chinese favors brevity where English favors countless "to"'s and "the"'s and "for"'s. Even that sentence I used in that example - How say English? Now, in context, I'm pretty sure you all had no trouble understanding that in this case, "How say English" means "How do you say that in English?" but what the hell is with all those other little words?
So, Chinese is already by nature more straightforward than the language I'm writing in. It's language with less nuance-y details and more specific ways of saying things. Add to this the pronunciation of tones, and I don't think anyone would argue that there is markedly less freedom in Chinese than in English. I have felt that all along in terms of pronunciation - I think the reason I have such a knack for speaking, and why I genuinely enjoy speaking in tones, is the same reason I loved my ballet class at Skidmore, and one of the reasons I love playing classical music. For some reason, working within a very structured system feels good to me. Being constrained - following set harmonic structures, balancing four independent lines, pointing your toes at just this angle, keeping your torso unnaturally poised, using a predetermined inflection to say every syllable in a phrase - somehow allows me to feel more free.
But this isn't the point. So, if Chinese is already more concise than the language I'm used to, the language that me and C use to converse is even more so. We don't speak Chinese together - we speak Chinese-based syntax-free gibberish with big words like "internet," "government," and "semester," in English. The language we use takes Chinese, and simplifies it even further, so that we essentially speak in meaning rather than in any particular language. And why do we need anything more than meaning? Obviously I know that there is a lot more that goes into modern language than absolute meaning. Cavemen speak in meaning. Poets and journalists and Skidmore college students speak in intricacy. But what I'm saying is, maybe, it feels good to be a cavewoman. And you don't need anything more than that to relate to or love someone, obviously. At times when I have a more complicated idea I need to express, or when I have to resort to google translate or a dictionary, then I feel restricted and frustrated. But most times, when we can have a meaningful conversation using the most rudimentary words and structures, I feel liberated. At times like that I feel like we are conversing in language free of culture - like a bigger language that is based on meaning that everyone in the world might understand, rather than something particular to a certain people. And this is refreshing. Like when I say, "Hey, C, ni yao bu yao wan shang qu...nage...wo bu zhi dao na li ke shi wo men last week qu le, you shu fu de yizi." = Hey, C, you want not want tonight go...that...i don't know where but we last week went, has comfort chairs = Hey, C, tonight do you want to go to that place...I'm can't remember where it is but we went last week, it was the place with comfortable chairs.
If I said that to a Chinese speaker they would first have to wade through the incorrect sentence structure before they understood the meaning. Same with an English speaker. But because the compromise between English, Chinese, and Arabic for us is just meaning, he has no trouble understanding.
Last night, when we were walking back from the restaurant, we had a real conversation about Chinese people. Here is an approximate literal English translation:
C: They think what? They want what things?
Z: I think they want happy.
C: Every person wants happy. They only think think this and this *indicates stomach and crotch
Z: True.
C: They have no democracy, but no think that, their brains closed, but no think that, don't have foreigners, don't want to go to other countries, them it doesn't matter. They are crazy! They are doing what?!
Z: I know but, China very old person. no no, old country. old country not person. America has many countries, very open, because America not old.
C: I know but in Mauritania, university people, every time every time, why is this government bad, why is this law bad, this is good, this is not good, etc. etc. Mauritania people can think!
Z: I understand. But Mauritania has many French people. and not too old. China 2,000 years very closed - 2,000 years! Every year Chinese people marry Chinese people, do not go other countries, China afraid other countries, 2,000 years Chinese people think and live China China China.
C: Right! bad! Why? 1.3 million people think China China China, not good!
Z: 1.3 billion.
C: Right. What can be done?
Z: Yes, I don't know, you're right, what can be done?
Funny, at first, but if I forget about how silly it might sound to someone who has never had to converse in an unfamiliar language, it feels so natural. And also, it's like, taking your brain out of the patterns and structures you're used to and utilizing different pathways. I mean this is always what learning a new language is about. Picking up your brain, extracting your thoughts from the thought patterns you're used to using, and setting it back down on top of a different roadmap. Learning anything new is like this I guess. Calculus. Guitar. I guess it just feels more extreme for me, because I depend on the new roadmap to take me places every single day.
So although at first it seems like dealing with this situation would prove limiting, but actually I feel like I've gained a whole new manner of expression. Like now, I have more to work with instead of less. This has got to be the end of this post.
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