I'm an island on an island. Or that's how I feel most of the times, at least. I'm talking about my inability to speak and communicate with others in Chinese. Before coming here I knew that it would be difficult for me to sustain conversations that went beyond statements like “It's so hot!” or “I like dogs!”. You get the idea. But I couldn't actually imagine how I'd feel because I've never been in this kind of situation. I've traveled to many countries, but even in Kenya where the common tongue is Swahili, I at least had 25 other Americans to share my story of the loose bat in our hut that kept on flying and flapping around the room the entire night (we were all too scared to get out of our mosquito nets and open the door to let it out), and the time I woke up my roommates, convinced I had seen a snake in my bed when in reality it was a dream and way too dark to see anything (this was their common sense argument which satisfied me and lulled me back to sleep). In Costa Rica, my 9 years of studying Spanish more or less pulled through when I was able to chat with taxi drivers and get around the country, and once again, there were 30 other American students I could converse with.
Here, in China, things are a lot different. There is no large group of Americans I can carry on meaningful conversations with, or joke with. I can barely string a sentence, and the ones I can are painfully obvious (someone gives me a huge piece of mango to eat, I say: “Thanks. It's so big”) and lead to dead-ends. This doesn't stop me from trying. I try and I try and I try. Initially I depended on Dan who would translate all my questions and comments, but then I came to realize that this is no way to carry on. I could depend on Dan, but where would that leave me? A seemingly brainless turd. I don't want to have to rely on Dan that much anyway. Chinese lessons were more frequent during our stay on the farm, and here I've begun using flashcards to learn new words, and learn new phrases from Dan. I try to piece together sentences, although grammatically incorrect most of the times, that will lead to more conversation, although usually 80% of that conversation is lost in meaning. It's even harder when the other party can't speak any English, and can't bridge us two islands.
Words are important, everybody knows that, but it's only now I realize just how important words really are. People say actions speak louder than words, but I'm not so sure of this anymore. I can see where this can sometimes apply, but I think intentions are more important. You won't understand the person's intentions behind a misconstrued action if she doesn't have the ability to explain or express the particular feeling and thought behind that action. Actions can be interpreted in many ways, and so you need to be able to explain why. Sometimes an action can be an island, floating along in the middle of a blue sea. Even more importantly, what is a person without words? How does an individual convey personality, spunk, thought, or emotion without words? I think you can to a certain degree, but not enough. How do you become friends with someone without conversation? Sure, you can become friendly with someone, but you don't get below the surface, and forming a connection becomes that much harder. So I'll be honest. Even though I'm surrounded by 5 people, I can feel pretty lonely when I can't understand what's going on and then I wonder if I'll ever learn Chinese well enough. Chinese is not a joke, it's a difficult language-- I mean look at it! The same word can mean 10 different things based on tone and what not. Chinese writing looks beautiful, like a form of art, and I want to learn it, it's so new, so unfamiliar. I want to be responsible for that kind of beauty. The way you even set up a sentence is so unlike English, Spanish, and Korean that I wonder if it'll ever feel like second nature to me. There's a lot I need to learn to be able to express nuance like I know how to in English. Thankfully through teaching English, I talk a lot with Ina, and with Jason (we have the same birthday!), although a little less. The staff is so friendly too, a local girl in particular named Mio is so eager to learn English and her eagerness itself makes me feel better. I haven't met a mean person yet in China, believe it or not. It seems like most people here are genuinely kind and thoughtful. What a change from America where you are guaranteed to run into a mean-spirited person at least once a week, if not more.
Through talking to Ina, Dan and I found out that Jason used to own a bar in Beijing called “Beer Station.” It was the first graffiti bar in Beijing, and was known for playing Tom and Jerry in the background. Tom and Jerry, what a great cartoon, understood in any language, at any age (it's often played here as well). Anyway, he was kicked out of high school for starting trouble and smoking cigarettes, and it was then that he decided he'd be the world's best bartender. He'd frequent night clubs and bars, trying to become familiar with the ins and outs of bartending and nightlife. Then, Jason and Ina moved to Singapore to study and to learn English at Ina's suggestion, and it's there where Jason entered a competition for bartending. He didn't tell Ina because he was certain he wouldn't advance, and even his friends insisted he would lose because he wasn't Singaporean. All of the competitors were representing the bars they worked for, and were given alcohol to use for the competition because everyone had to bring their own. Jason was representing himself, and had to secretly take alcohol from the bar he was working at, keeping it in plastic water bottles while everyone else had expensive bottles. Like any true underdog story, Jason made it all the way to the finals, surprising both competitors and judges. It was only when Jason made it to the finals that he told Ina about the competition. By this point the judges had taken a liking to Jason's style and his flyer skills (he could juggle 4 bottles of alcohol like it was nobody's business), and they started supplying him with alcohol and garnishes for his drinks like cucumbers and shit. I saw his performance in the finals, he was juggling bottles fluidly, shaking drinks with flair, and exuding a confident personality, which none of the other bartenders were doing. The others were simply pouring, mixing, shaking. Unfortunately, Jason didn't win, which he attributes to subtle racism-- him being Chinese, and everyone else being Singaporean. BUT WAIT! It doesn't end there. One of the judges offered Jason a place in a bartending competition in Cuba, but Jason would have to represent Singapore, not China. Jason refused because of his patriotism. Luckily for him though, someone from the Ritz Carlton was at the final and offered Jason a bartending gig at the Ritz so that's how Jason started working at the fancy schmancy Ritz Carlton in Singapore before he opened up this hostel in China. It could honestly be a fucking movie. I admire Jason. He did everything on his own, and stood by his principles. He might have been kicked out of high school and passed up on a great opportunity in Cuba, but he's still happy here doing what he's doing, and he never would have been able to imagine this 6 years ago. Life will certainly take you by the balls, only if you take its first. Here's to taking Chinese by its balls, the 4th language I will have learned.
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