I recently started learning Mandarin again. Not just to communicate with the general public but also to communicate with my 2-year-old. See, she’s started saying stuff to me that I don’t understand or think is baby language then Ayi has to tell me ‘that's Chinese for xyz’. Embarrassing to say the least, even more when others have to buy into the translating gig because I’m so lame at Mandarin!
Recently we were in Singapore (my home) for Chinese New Year and our 2-year-old was in the baby pool yelling something at me with her hand out. I thought she was saying ‘shoes’ and explained to her patiently ‘darling, no, you don’t need your shoes in the pool’.
Well, it turns out she wasn't saying ‘shoes’ but ‘shou” which means ‘hand’ in Mandarin which my sister-in-law happened to overhear and translate. My child wanted me to hold her hand as she was traversing the baby pool so she wouldn't fall! Duh!! Way to go in Parenting 101 – not understanding your own kid, needing a third party translator, and worst of all, insulting your child’s intelligence by explaining why footwear is not required for swimming. It’s amazing she (the child) hasn’t lost all respect for me (yet) in the multiple faux pax misunderstandings I must be throwing at her.
Hence I’m learning Mandarin. Again. Because if I don’t understand something as simple as body parts which my 2-year-old clearly needs me to know, then I not only fail at respecting and trying to learn about the local culture as much as possible (my noble, initial plan when I first moved to China now almost 2 years ago), but I also fail at parenting.
How did this happen? Well, firstly, I landed in Shanghai and immediately purchased 30 lessons, enthused about learning the language pronto! Given my (self-perceived) aptitude for languages, I would be fluent, and bargain like a pro at the markets and negotiate with taxi drivers in a week!
Little did I know, my (self-perceived) language aptitude was non-existent when it came to Mandarin and at least half my brain would be taken up in 'Settling In', 'Getting Around' and 'Where to Get Stuff'. Having a 6-month-old in tow took up the other half.
Secondly, who doesn’t go a little overboard socially when you get here? Making friends is survival, so you become a little slutty saying ‘yes’ to everything. Flower/ Fabric/ Fish market – hell yeah, I need to know markets! Murder/Mad Hatter/Margarita parties – bring it on! Mandarin lessons, er, sorry, no time. After exactly three lessons I gave up finding the time or desire to learn in the face of other exciting Shang-scapades.
Thirdly, somewhere between one and two-years-old, the once 6-month-old started speaking. A lot. Mostly in English, but I underestimated the power of the environment that her brain now absorbs like a sponge. There’s also the power of Ayi, who although speaks English to us, speaks Mandarin to the kids as we requested. Now it seems that this bilingual plan might backfire on us if I don’t up my Mandarin game to at least that of a 3-year-old. (Gotta stay one step ahead!)
So now I have 25 more Mandarin lessons to go. As it turns out, I don’t actually need it for taxis (hello Smart Shanghai) or market bargaining as I seem to have survived for a year by looking horrified and proclaiming ‘tai guile” (too expensive) at everything. However its good to know the colors of what I'm ordering now instead of just pointing to stuff. However, I really can’t wait till I get to learn body parts!
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