The Language Issue

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It was a week of farewells. I was sad to say goodbye to a friend who has been in a remote area of China these past four months, and has now gone home, but we showed her a good time while she was in Beijing! For one thing, we went to an awesome live music venue, 2Kolegas, to see some great Chinese punk bands. She's now enjoying the comforts of home so I look forward to seeing her when I'm next in the 'Berrra. I also had a work dinner to farewell our outgoing CEO which was a lot of fun, and I was mercifully "killed" in the first round of Murder in the Dark, which was a little complicated as I was a "murderer" too. Hmmmm.

Last weekend I found my long-searched-for sanctuary in Beijing: a coffee lounge called "Waiting for Godot". It is my getaway from it all and great for those time when you want a little down time. I also explored more, and found an great new market where I bought bicycle "mitts" (they're like fur-lined oven mitts that fit over my handle bars). It's amazing the difference they make! I think I'll be able to ride through winter now. But it was coming back from that market that will forever stick out in my memory.

Coming back from the Market, I took a rare trip on the subway (I cycle everywhere). I stepped onto the subway carriage and stood patiently with my purchases. My mind was on the labyrinth that was the market, so when the girl next to me said something to her friend it took me awhile to register what she said. I got the distinct impression she was talking about me, though she was looking out the door. I'm not entirely sure what she said since I wasn't really paying attention, but I heard something about pretty, so I guess what she said wasn't bad. Anyway, she said something else which I also had the gut instinct was about me but this time she was looking at her phone, and I wrote it off as my addled brain playing tricks on me as I couldn't really recognise the words she was saying. The girl with her then said "Which station is next?" and I realised that I could understand them, but not pick out words, because they were speaking Cantonese.

They then discussed (in Cantonese) how many more stations to go, and I smiled to myself because they obviously would never think that I could understand what they were saying. Basking in the warmth of, for once, being able to follow someone else's conversation, we stopped at another station and I moved to let someone in, nearly stepping on the toe of the second girl. I apologised (in Mandarin) and while looking at me a little wide-eyed, the girl said to her friend (in Cantonese) "She's speaking Chinese!" obviously thinking I wouldn't understand her. I couldn't help myself, I grinned broadly and said (in Mandarin) "Yes. And I speak Cantonese."

Well, their jaws both hit the floor! The girl astonished replied (in Cantonese) "We also speak Cantonese!" to which I replied (in Cantonese), "I know. I'm from Hong Kong," grinning like a Chestershire cat.

After a long moment, the first girl dropped her head and covered her face with her hand in embarrassment. "She understood me," she said quietly to her friend. The irony of the fact I could understand that statement too was lost of them both I think, though I had a little chuckle to myself. I wanted to say "don't worry about it" but thought that any further comment would probably make her feel worse. There was an embarrassed silence, while they processed all this and I was trying hard not to laugh. I was enjoying myself immensely! It was one of those very rare times when I was the one person who understood exactly what's going on and what everyone was saying, and I was going to savour it! We pulled into my station and I turned to them both and smiled. I said "Goodbye" (in Cantonese), and they both meekly replied "Goodbye" (in English). I couldn't keep the grin off my face all the way home.

But it's made me think of some of my other favourite language issue moments. I've never been annoyed or upset about them cause frankly, they're petty darn funny (I think anyway). For example, I bought some corn the other day and asked her "Zheige yumi, duo shao qian?" ("How much is the corn?"). The young girl looked at me blankly and I smiled, and repeated it slowly. She then realised I was speaking Mandarin and told me the price. As she was putting it in the bag she turned to me and said very slowly and deliberately "Nii shii naa guo renn?" ("Whaaat couuuuntry aaare youuu frooom?"). My Mandarin is a little rustic but I'm not feeble!

The slow talking has happened a few times, most recently at my now favourite Muslim restaurant. The first time I went in (and all in Mandarin) I ordered, had a discussion about does this dish have a lot of oil, told her I don't like oil, and can they recommend a tofu dish? I went with their suggestion, ordered another vegetable dish and the food was great. I wanted to learn how to say it the tofu dish so that I could order it next time so I asked her what the dish was called. Completely seriously she says "Zheige jiao dooo fuuuu" ("It's called toooofuuuuu").

But my favourite (other than the subway moment) was the other week when I was in a tea house and I hailed a waitress. "Can I please have a menu?" I asked her in Mandarin. She looked blank. Totally in Mandarin, I tried asking a different way.
"Do you have a menu?" Still blank.
"Menu?" She started to look around for someone to translate.
"Can I order?" I asked, now running out of ways to ask the same thing.
At that point she said very calmly, "Dui bu qi, wo ting bu dong ying wan" ("I'm sorry, I don't understand English"). I actually dropped my head in my arms for a moment to hide my laugh.
"I'm not speaking English," I told her in Mandarin, "I'm speaking Chinese." Another half a second and the penny dropped. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" she said walking off to get a menu. I could just about hear her saying to herself "Why didn't she say so in the first place?"

You have to love this city!