Lost in Translation

Things have gotten better here. Much better. We've met some wonderful people, John has a pipe­smoking buddy (who has a five year old daughter Cohen is very taken with), we have a top floor apartment with access to our own private rooftop, we've found our way to some local produce markets (goodbye Skippy!) and we've found a few quiet(ish), green(ish) parks to give us respite from the city. They can only be so green because they don't seem to believe in grass here, just paved walkways through tropical garden plants. They can also only be so quiet because they are always full of old people doing Tai Chi or watching their one grandchild. The parks aren't necessarily crowded with them, but of course they all crowd around us, so it's all the same. I don't understand much of what they say, but I can usually recognise "San Ge!" (Three children!) "hao piao liang!" (beautiful) and generally understand through their concerned faces and hand gestures that my children aren't dressed warmly enough. Apparently it's Chinese custom to dress your child in pants and long sleeves, put a sweater on them and then mummify them in a fleece blanket before putting them in a baby carrier strapped to your back. It's about 75 degrees here every day.

All that being said, the language barrier continues to be a constant source of aggravation and amusement. We have puns in English, but the tonal nature of the Chinese language creates possibilities that would make Shakespeare weep for joy and make me want to cry. For instance, "Wo she Yingwen laoshe," when said with the proper inflection, translates: "I am English teacher." Of course, depending on whether you use an upward or downward inflection (and I can't for the life of me remember which!) with the word "laoshe," I could be trying to get past the security guard at the kindergarten where I teach by saying "I am English shit."  The potential to be offend every time I open my mouth is incredible. Apparently I can't cut a pear in half and give it to a friend because "pear" with a different inflection means "friend" and "to split," as in cutting the pear in half, can also be used in context of breaking off a friendship. I also can't hand a clock or watch to an old person because, with a different tone, the word "death" and the word "clock" are the same. So apparently, by handing them my watch, I'm saying "I wish you were dead."  John spent a whole day calling our housekeeper "Ay-nee" rather than "Ay-ee," so instead of saying "aunt," which is a respectful way of addressing a middle aged woman, he was saying "love you."

There are some reverse translations which can potentially be even more offensive.  For instance, take the Chinese habit of using the word "that" repeatedly in place of "umm" or "like" when they are thinking of what to say. "That" is translated "Na Ge," which when said quickly sounds like "nu­guh, nu­guh" and when said with the Kunming accent sounds like "nigga, nigga, nigga."  Also potentially problematic.

The good news is, feeling lost when trying to communicate is no problem when compared with the aggravation of getting literally lost.  Lost as in a 3 1/2 hour trip that was supposed to be a ten minute bus ride from home to Wal-Mart and back.  Lost as in getting off a bus and realizing that the same bus won't take you back home.  Lost as in realizing you don't even know where home is.  Lost as in wandering deserted streets at 10 pm with a dead cellphone.  Lost as in not being able to tell a taxi driver a single landmark that could even get you near home.  Lost as in not being able to tell a taxi driver anything at all because you'd probably end up telling him you are shit and you hope he dies.

If I was a good enough writer (or if I cared more about appearing to be a good writer than I cared about going to bed right now) I would use all this as a metaphor to tease out some broader life lesson.         But I think most people can tease out the broader application for themselves-Life doesn't make a lot of sense.  You think you're going somewhere but you're mostly wandering around trying to figure out where you're going so you can get there.

And eventually you get home.