Somewhere long ago, in the ribboning ebbs and bends of time, the first cavemen met on neutral ground for trade, and ever since then we’ve been confusing each other with language. When I first arrived in China, so completely and absurdly alone, stunned into a linguistic stupor, grasping for an aural kernel of meaning, searching—frantic for a gesture to convey—well, everything, retreating behind a dumb smile, chastened, humbled, depending solely upon luck to once again pull me through, but later, reviewing what happened made me realize how thoughts could form words, intentions, communicate needs, and convey them in a quantum language that everyone subliminally understands and responds to, although I’ve yet to become fluent in it. For me it’s similar to how bees perform instructional nectar location dances to give the rest of the hive a fix on the locale of newly discovered flowers, or schools of fish communicating the need to turn collectively—in an instant, over and over again, or birds stopping automatically in the exact same trees on their migrations, generation after generation, or how dogs learn to distinguish and respond to human words like, “Walkies,” By the way, I’d like to share my new favorite quote concerning dogs: “Did you ever walk into a room and forget why you walked in? I think that is how dogs spend their lives.” – Sue Murphy Anyway, I figured where there was a will, there was a way to communicate, and China was the perfect place to field-test some of my wackier theories. I combined the belief that thoughts are actions with the accepted theory that language was originally developed by our hairy ancestors mimicking sounds animals made. Approaching shopkeepers, I imagined my thoughts could direct them to what I wanted and enhanced it by quietly making an animal sound. ‘Moo’ for milk, ‘bawk’ for eggs. For tofu, I mouthed, “Soyy-beaans.” One out of twenty actually gave me what I wanted; the rest gazed back in what I have previously called a ‘linguistic stupor’ except for one old granny who shooed me toward the door flipping a towel at me. Next, I turned to Darwin who hypothesized that speech might have been a result of mouthing or grunting out the equivalent of common hand gestures. This really works for simple speech. Imagine mouthing words such as big, small, go, stop, help, love, happy, sad, and it’s easy to imagine how they became words. But try grunting out your request for a ticket to the 4 o’clock showing of your choice of movie in its original English, and you will see the flaw in this strategy. Yet, I still walk around mouthing idiot, annoying, get a clue and wake up! Seeing as how the left side of the brain controls both speech and the coordination of your right hand, I thought perhaps it would bolster my attempts to communicate if I moved my right hand while I spoke. I didn’t use it to point, just vaguely gestured while thinking about and mouthing my requests in Darwinian English. This worked pretty well, though occasionally I was still shooed toward the door. Testing the belief that all emotions, intentions and complaints are conveyed through facial expressions, body language, gestures or sounds, I tried using no words at all, and motioned, grunted, smiled or grimaced, waving my head no or nodding yes, and involuntarily belting out a Woo-Hoo if they got it right. This was frequently startling, but got the best results. Mercifully, after awhile, I stopped yelling Woo-Hoo. Chinese people actually speaking my own language would regularly baffle me. Once, I was in a restaurant where you pay the cashier, then walk to the back and present your ticket to the cook. I usually order a dish that takes some time to cook, and usually have a seat while I wait, though most people order noodles that the cook serves up immediately. They present a ticket, are served a bowl, and they are eating in no time. So I was sitting there—uncomfortable in the glare of a man watching me, who suddenly approached and asked in English, “What are you doing here?” I thought, it’s none of your freaking business, but just so you know, “I’m teaching English.” He looked confused. “No, what are you doing here?” “Umm, in China?” “No, here.” I was stumped and started to get perturbed. It turns out he was making sure I had given the ticket to the cook and was not sitting around waiting in vain for a meal that wouldn’t come. He was just looking out for me out of kindness. This same kind of thing has happened to me over and over, so I have learned not to rush to judgment and to err, as a Buddha fish told me in a dream, on the side of openness. Still, other times, I cannot resist the urge to have some fun. Seeing a sign on a department store that read, “Be Waterful,” I decided to go in and inquire. After being directed to someone who spoke English, I asked, “I saw the sign outside and I want to learn how to become more waterful. Can you help me?” Frozen grin. I pressed on. “I don’t think I’ve been waterful lately, have you?” “Ah, ah, ah, you need some water?” she asked. “No, no, no, I need to be more waterful, but I don’t know how. Please, tell me what I need to do. It is of the utmost importance that I become waterful, there’s not a moment to spare.” Her head swiveled around, looking for help. Cornered. Face lost. People watching . . . I relented. “Okay, study up on being waterful, I’ll be back next week. You really should be more careful about telling people to do something about which you haven’t a clue." Then I smiled, she smiled. "Take care and thank you very much.” Relief. A way out. Pleased that this potential problem had miraculously dissolved, she followed me to the door and out into the street, frantically waving goodbye. Still, the huge lack in my ability to respond to normal conversation has driven me in uncommon and unexpected ways.
At the end of a one long and tiring day, a Chinese person spoke to me as if they were anticipating a reply, and suddenly, out of nowhere, I was blurting out bad song lyrics, saying them rather than singing them. This turned out to be the best way to communicate and has always provoked a smile, instilled camaraderie, communicated something beyond meaning, beyond mere words, something kind of quantum-like. Random Chinese person would say, “你怎么样,你毛茸茸的老外吗?” And I would say, “I am music and I write the songs.” “说什么?” “I write the songs that make the whole world sing (breath) I write the songs of love and . . . uh, special things.” “什么是你疯了吗?” “It’s from you, it’s from me, it’s a world wide symphony!” Or, another time, “为什么你看起来这么伤心,老外吗?” Me: “Someone left a cake out in the rain (breath) I don’t think that I can take it (breath) cause it took so long to bake it (breath) and I’ll never have that recipe, again . . .” The shopkeeper nodded in profound sympathy. Sorrow is a universal language. One day, strolling around downtown, I felt sorry for an old women who shined shoes but whose business was lacking, so we settled on a price and I let her pretend to shine my sneakers. To her credit, she actually made them look better, but when I took out my money to pay, she got greedy and tried to charge me double. I growled a little and held my palm out like a traffic cop and said, “Stop! In the name of love (breath) before you break my heart . . . think it o-o-ver.” She actually laughed, shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “Hey, you gotta try,” and quickly pocketed the agreed upon price. So many languages, so little time. And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the language. (Apologies to F. Scott) For double pleasure, copy and paste the text written in Chinese into Google translate.
2 Comments
Mary
1/31/2013 06:31:35 am
Hi ee, I missed this diary also what I think happened is I printed to read a few at home and then never got to them so it is a treat now in January 2013 to read them an extra bonus. I like the way you speak lyrics and make them laugh I could never figure out what those symbols mean someone wrote my name once and it meant something good. I give you alot of credit. Keep having fun with the language..love ya sis
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Mary
1/31/2013 06:43:09 am
Hey ee, I tried the double pleasure to translate that was a blast!!!!!!
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