Loud and Clear

Of all four of our family members, I think it can safely be said that I like China and Chengdu the most. By far. Because I really, really do like it. There is something amazing about being immersed in another country, and I am incredibly grateful that the people of Chengdu look at me and my family members with interest and even curiosity rather than hostility, as I know happens in some other countries to other Foreign Service families. 


I mean, duh, right? Americans aren't, you know, universally loved everywhere around the globe. 


Were the tables turned, and *I* was the native Chengdu-ian and *someone else* was the white (obviously American) lady coming into my shop to, oh, buy fruit/get a foot massage/what have you, I would have every reason to assume that she can't speak a word of Chinese beyond maybe saying hello (ni hao). If she even knew how to say that.


And that's the assumption that is always made about me.


I totally don't blame Chinese folks in the slightest that they assume that I can't speak or understand Chinese. Because they're correct 99.9% of the time... the vast majority of shopping white ladies here probably can't understand much of anything that is said in Chinese around them. Which isn't their fault, of course - not all wives (by any stretch of the imagination) have gotten the opportunity to study the language before accompanying their husbands overseas. 


But the same isn't true about *me*.


Because, even though my 2/1+ in Mandarin doesn't get me too far, it DOES get me far enough. And the same goes for James, who has a 2/2.


We hear. We understand. We know.


Sometimes Americans don't meet the Chinese standard of what people should look like. Some are taller or stockier than the norm here. Here in China, when you are physically outside the standard or norm, the method used to bring you back into the cultural parameters of how this society says you "should look" is OPEN HONESTY and even public ridicule. No - oh, maybe we shouldn't say that because it will hurt people's feelings - and no - oh, maybe this will damage their self-esteem.


Nope.


If the Chinese think you are too fat, then they will straight up tell you: You are too fat. And then they will laugh at you. As will others within earshot. Who will then probably, themselves, repeat the charge. Because everyone knows that you are too fat. To them, it's obvious. To them, saying these things isn't taboo at all. James and I understand EXACTLY what is being said if we are there to hear it. Sometimes, people who are too fat or too this or too that are even asked by incredulous questioners: Why are you so fat? 


Not so fun. 


                                            ~   ~   ~


The other morning, I was in a little fruit shop buying some fruit. The sales girls behind the counter were talking about me. I just let them talk. They weren't saying anything bad about me - but I was very much an object of intense curiosity. One of them even said I'm sure she doesn't understand us. I let them keep talking until I went to the counter to pay. 


Then I broke out the Chinese.  It's not the best Chinese in the universe, but it is good enough to get eyebrows raised, shocked looks, and to be able to answer all of their questions:


Them:  "You speak Chinese really well!"


Me: "Thank you, but I think I speak Chinese really badly."


Them: "Do you live here?"


Me: "Yes, I live here."


Them: "How long have you lived here?"


Me: "Oh, about seven months."


Them: "What country are you from?"


Me: "I'm an American. I studied Mandarin back in America before I came here."


I paid for the fruit without fumbling with the money (because I understood exactly what the cost was, and I knew how to pay in kuai even though it's different than dollars), put the fruit in my bag, and then bid them goodbye.


::continued shocked looks:: 


                                             ~   ~   ~


One of the most wonderful things about Chengdu is that you can get FANTASTIC foot or even whole body massages for a tiny fraction of the price that they would be back in the U.S.


Heavenly.


I have taken Matthew with me several times.


On the vast majority of those occasions, I have listened to the conversations between the girl massaging *me* and the girl massaging *Matthew*. And they talk about him.


He's so tall! So very tall. And so handsome, they will giggle. They have universally assumed that he goes to college here. Once or twice they have (correctly) assumed that he is an American, that he is the son of someone at the U.S. Consulate nearby, and that he is here because of that.


They pay him particular attention.


On more than one occasion, they have assumed that Matthew and I are a couple. Which is when I rouse from my not-speaking-Chinese-but-just-enjoying-the-massage-stupor to set the record straight: 


Me: "Um, NO. He's my SON. He's my oldest SON."


Them: "Oh! You speak Chinese! He's your son?!"


Me: "Yes. I am very old."


Them (*giggling*): "You are not old! You look very young!"


Me: "Thank you. But yes, I am very old. Very, very old."


Them: "He is very handsome! Does he go to Sichuan University?"


Me: "No, he is in high school."


Them: "High school! But he looks so old! And so very tall! How old is he?"


Me: "He's 18 years old."


And the conversation continues. Because once my cover is blown and it is demonstrated that I can speak enough Chinese that we can at least have a rudimentary conversation, I know that we will all be talking during the duration of my time there. And that 99.9% of the conversation will be about Matthew. 


Yes, he plays basketball. He likes math. Yes, he's an American. We both are. The conversation continues...


Which is, you know, fine. Because I like being able to show that, yes, sometimes the Americans here can speak your language enough to communicate even a bit.


It makes me feel good.  


Most of the time.

Comments

[shannon]

And it should make you feel good! That is so different from my experiences overseas , since not only do I not get language neither does Dave except at a tiny handful of posts. Apparently computers speak computer therefore there is no need to waste time and money providing any IMSer language training, never mind that our quality of life at post would be hugely improved by at least one of us have even a little bit of language.

And of course here no one gets language training because officially the language is English but in practice no one actually speaks much of it, everywhere you go you hear Chichewa, even my gardeners don't speak enough English to communicate effectively. It is always a gamble when I need to give them instructions. "Please weed the garden but leave the asparagus." Apparently meant leave all the weeds but dig up the asparagus breaking all the yummy tips just coming up and toss it on the compost heap. GAH!

[Kate]

I love this story. Compounded by two things:

1) a really depressing story from a colleague about how he went on a TDY at my future post and told me "I don't why you're bother with two years of language training. Everybody speaks English! You can totally get by without it!" depressing both because I'm in the middle of the language doldrums right now, and also because he hadn't grasped that "getting by" was not exactly my goal.

2) a much happier story about a colleague who used to work at my future post who just won a fellowship to go study the language to the *native speaker* level. Cool be ause it's proof that with will and practice, you can definitely make all the language training worthwhile.

[Digger]

Awesome post K! Glad you are finally blogging a little more...I have missed you!

And Kate, I am in one of those countries where "you can totally get by without it" (the language) and "everyone speaks English." Usually I hear those things from people who smuggly feel that I wasn't smart enough to avoid studying the language for a year.

You know what though? They don't "all" speak English. There have been plenty of times when I have had to call the cable company or the guards or someplace else and they didn't speak English. And you know what else? I look at the relationships my colleagues who avoided studying the language have with their contacts, and they are very different than the relationships I have with my contacts. There is a different level of respect and trust. I am a better officer for knowing the language, even if they all speak English better than I will ever master their language.

There is a story of the Israeli president meeting with the American Ambassador when the Israeli Prime Minister burst into the room screaming. In Hebrew. Which the Ambassador didn't speak because they all speak English. The PM apologized (in English) and continued what he was saying to the President (in Hebrew) but much more calmly.

He was telling the President they had gone to war.

The Ambassador didn't know that. But if one of us who "wasted our time" learning the language had been, I wonder how different that meeting would have been.

[Daniela]

I like that too. The blood, sweat and tears of language training are paying off. Isn't that nice? It's hard to keep that in perspective when you are in the lowest point of language training but the payoff does ultimately come. I too am enjoying whatever Hindi I got in the 7 or so months that I studied it. It's nice to listen to people talk about you when they think you don't understand and chuckle...

[Nigel]

Having lived in a foreign country for the last 8 years I am still finding it difficult to understand the language. I can speak quite a bit but the dialect is so strong that I find it so difficult to understand.
So glad you are finding this easier than me.

[Missy]

So, your post reminded me of this moment I had when I first lived in Japan...

I was getting a shiatsu massage (which my insurance covered, except for the whopping $2.50 copay) and all the ladies were discussing me. I could understand enough to know what they were saying, but not enough to really speak back.

They talked about how fat and ugly I was. How stupid I seemed that I didn't speak Japanese after 2 whole months in the country.

I put my face in my arms (I was lying on my stomach) and cried quietly through the entire thing.

The upside is that my shiatsu masseuse became one of my best friends (he did not reveal my sobbing).

And yes, that was not the first time, nor the last, where my body type (her breasts are so large!), my hair color, the hair on my arms, all were discussed openly, in public, and at length. And it was rarely complimentary.

And yes, my male colleagues were treated TOTALLY DIFFERENTLY. They were ADMIRED. They were LOVED. They were assigned people to do their laundry and cook dinner for them every night.

Don't get me wrong -- I love Japan, I made some amazing friends and I learned to speak up for myself (and also to ignore comments about my body and point out that at least I didn't have short legs). But Asia can be a tough crowd when you're a woman.

And if I were you, I wouldn't be quite so quick to reveal that your son is available, gross-out factors notwithstanding. Just sayin'.