Say what?
I'm sure you've all seen it portrayed--the stereotypical American tourist confronting the language barrier. They try to speak to someone in English and when that person doesn't understand, the tourist says the same thing, only louder. Or maybe they try to speak slower and exaggerate their pronunciation. Or add an -o to the end of every noun, as if that would suddenly impart understanding to the other person. Well, I got a taste of the other side of that yesterday.A couple of workmen came over to fix our screen door. the kids were playing near it, stumbled and broke it. We called Thad and he sent the maintenance guys over to take a look. Now when the maintenance guys come over it really rubs my lack of language ability in my face. They come across as real friendly, but I can barely say a few words to them. So anyway, a couple of the guys came over and measured the doorframe. When they finished, they tried to ask me something. I listened, caught nothing and shook my head. They asked again. I managed to catch one word--ming tien, tomorrow. But one word does not communication make. I confirmed ming tien, then tried to listen to hear some numbers. I know my numbers in Chinese, but sometimes I can't pick them out of the flow of the conversation. Finally one guy asked for a piece of paper. He started writing his question down. I suppose that's not too foolish, since many people can read more than they can hear or say. In my case, however, I think I can read less Chinese than I can speak. I looked at the paper for some numbers, but was likewise frustrated.
Finally, I decided to give in and call Thad. He was available and actually said he'd come over to the flat. (I didn't want him to go to that much trouble, but that's Chinese service for you.) So we stood around waiting for him to arrive. One workman went out for a smoke or something, the other just stood around with me. He took a notice of Becky's schoolwork--she was writing a final draft of her report on the Makah and Nez Perce. He seemed to be impressed by her work, but then he's always seemed to like her. After a bit Thad finally arrived, and in less than a minute he took care of the situation. A guy would be coming tomorrow at 11 o'clock to install a new door. With that bit of business complete, everybody took their leave and the girls and I went back to lessons.
A bit later I looked at the paper the workman had written for me. Sure enough, knowing what to look for, I could make out the "11" he wrote. Before I had just assumed that they were part of the character that followed it. So let that be a lesson to you the next time you're dealing with someone with limited language ability: speak slowly and write neatly. It may save you time in the long run.
posted by John @ 6:09 AM
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