Why I need to learn Chinese... AKA Rose keeps spending too much money
As a language teacher, I firmly believe in learning the language
of where you are living. That being said, I've been here three weeks, and even
with my three weeks of Chinese language class from July, I am not doing so
well at communicating. Numerous times I don't know if I'm being ripped off (are
the street apples really 50 cents each?) or if some sort of miscommunication
has occurred (I only wanted 35 copies, why am I paying for 60?) or really, I
just don’t like behaving like a 2 year old (e.g. Silently, Rose points to an
item on the menu and nods her head).
So just a few stories to show you how pathetic I am. But I’m
learning fast and will find a tutor soon, I swear!
In the Target-like store, looking for face wash. Yes, I brought
some from NYC but my skin is going crazy here with the pollutants and new foods
and new environment. I was thinking that maybe the Chinese brands have
something the American brands don’t. After 20 minutes of perusing aisles of
beauty products, attempting to figure out what is skin cleanser and what is
toothpaste, I come to a section that looks good. Searching the bottles for
anything in English, the woman working at the store comes over to help. She
says something. I don’t understand. I ask if she speaks English. Of course not.
I pick up a bottle and point to my pimples: “hao bu hao?” I ask (Is this
good?). She starts to laugh. I look at the bottle again: it was a skin
whitening gel, very common here apparently. Not going to help.
She takes my hand and drags me to another product. Says something rapidly in
Chinese, points to my face. Um… “hao, I guess”.
She pushes me over to the checkout clerk and all of a sudden, I’ve just
paid 15 USD for… Well I still don’t know what.
Taxi rides are very stressful for me. No taxi driver speaks English and I don’t know my way around to be able to direct them (nor do I know
any way to explain myself in Chinese). I bought a blender and didn’t want to
carry it on the subway so I hopped in a taxi and said the name of the subway
station near my apartment “Shoujingmao dajie.” “huh?? Shou- huh? Shou?” Oh no,
this is not going well. I whip out my phone and show him a photograph of my
address written in Chinese. “Ah ah ah …” And he talks for about 2 minutes. I
say, “bu zhidao” (I don’t know). And he is off. I feel like we are going the
wrong way but I say nothing. We end up turning in the right direction (phew)
and I see that we are near school, something I can recognize. I want to tell
him to turn butttt he’s already going down another street. And we end up
somewhere near campus. He finds a building that he has decided is my apartment
complex and smiles “dui dui dui!!!” I give him 30 kuai and get out of the cab
with all my bags. He drives off. Confused and tired, I walk the 20 minutes back
to my apartment; the 20 minutes I was trying to avoid by taking a cab in the
first place.
Getting a cup of joe is no easy feat. And it really breaks the
bank, regardless if I order correctly or not. But when language comes into
play…. One of my first days here, I went to Costa Coffee. The menu was in
English, the signs were in English… great, I’ll get a cup of coffee and chill
for a bit. I went up to order and the server didn’t speak English. Ok Rose- you
got this. Order an iced coffee… “yi bei bing kafei he… ummmmm” I was stuck. He
said something quickly and pointed to the menu. OK? 5 minutes later I had
apparently ordered some sort of coffee frappe frozen ice cream thing and was
out 8 USD. Ugh.
So I’m coping. Slowly. But I am willing and ready to learn. This
place is full of surprises and adventures and culture. I’m only scraping the
surface. Can’t wait to see what is underneath.
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