Don’t Be Shy
Songs are the perfect time-filler for class. I can spend ten minutes introducing a new song and practicing it several times. My last lesson was to review the songs the students already know and learn one new one. By the time we get to “Five Little Monkeys,” it’s already time to wrap up. But all this singing comes with major repercussions: my voice is shot. I would rather the kids sing without my help, anyway, but if I’m not there to lead the group, they start droning, “Five little blah blah blah… blah blah blah blah monkeys blah blah.”
I’m sure that’s what I sound like to them every day. And that’s what everyone who speaks Chinese sounds like to me. It’s complete nonsense until I hear a word I’ve studied before, then I perk up, “Huh? What? Did someone just say ‘niunai?’ Who’s talking about milk?” I don’t even fully understand a lot of the questions I get asked (typical questions like “Where are you from?” or “What is your job?”), I just hear a key phrase like “na guo,” know they are saying something about “which country,” and am able to answer accordingly. Then the other person assumes I am a whiz at Chinese and starts asking harder questions, “How long have you been in Changzhou? What can Obama do for China? What’s the meaning of life, the universe, and everything?”
Taxi drivers are an inquisitive bunch. I’m always reluctant to be in a taxi alone with them, because I know they’re going to start drilling me, and I’m still too uncomfortable and shy concerning the Chinese language. When I’m in line to buy a train or bus ticket, my heart starts pounding, dreading the moment I have to say, “I want two tickets for Suzhou at 9:30,” only for the attendant to reply, “Sorry, we don’t have blah blah blah blah blah.” Time to take out the blank face and retreat.
Those of you who knew me before probably didn’t see me as very outgoing. Definitely not the kind of person who could sit next to a stranger on the bus and talk to them in Chinese, let alone in English. Well… I’m still not. But in the time I’ve been here, I’ve realized I really am a social person. I think every expat has this moment of self-discovery: we need other people to be completely happy. After a few months of living in China, you find that you can get along with almost anyone. Maybe some of that is just desperation, but you actually do have something in common with other expats, maybe more in common than the people you went to school with who turned down your offer to travel abroad. You were all crazy enough to come to a foreign country to work.
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