学汉语的那些事儿

学汉语的那些事儿

The one question I get constantly asked by those who know that I live in China is “How much Chinese do you know?” Ah yes, that old chestnut, the expat's nemesis.

My habitual reply involves a woeful confession that for someone who's been here for over a decade, my skills could be much better. I then blame my delightful colleagues, all of whom, partly thanks to me, speak brilliant English. (It's a public service, really.) Naturally, all of this gets a shell-shocked reaction from my interlocutor that goes from disbelief to pity in a millisecond.

“Oh, but you must be learning Chinese right? Good for you, dear! China is a superpower, you know. You'll be in high demand when you get back home.”

Right. If this Sinophile ever gets back home…

When I fi rst arrived circa 2003, I remember beingslightly stunned when I realized that many who had moved in before me had almost no spoken command of Chinese. Isn't learning the native lingo the fi rst thing one would do, as challenging as it can be? Mandarin, a stress-timed language, has four tones which means that one word can have many meanings, whereas Cantonese, a syllable-timed language, has six. Oh, and those 80,000 characters that have been identif i ed over the course of history.

To comprehend a book, you'll need to have a working knowledge of at least 4,000 characters.

There's also that little nagging issue of your brain having to work that little bit harder, as studies show that those who speak tonal languages like Mandarin exhibit a very different fl ow of information during speech comprehension, using both hemispheres of the brain rather than just the left. Take that, English.

Fast-forward 13 years, and I will be the fi rst to admit that I am still learning the language. The only difference now is that I pull it off with a cool conf i dence that makes others gaze in awe at this one-line wonder. And these days, when folk ask me how much Chinese I know, I tell them how much I know about China. Isn't that what really counts? My Mandarin may not be perfect, but at least my baby steps can walk the talk.

So in China, how does one learn to truly talk-thetalk? Are you a traditional classroom learner? Try signing up for classes; there are plenty of centers that offer good deals. Perhaps you're a one-on-one private learner? Find a tutor to speak Mandarin with or better still, grab a colleague and enjoy a bilingual tete-a-tete over tea. Or are you a drop-me-on-the-Great-Wall-of-China-from-a-helicopter-and-seeif-I-survive type of person? If deep and immediate immersion is your thing, then perhaps actually living in China is a preferred option.

COLUMNlST'S PROFlLELena Gidwani is a mother of a son and daughter, resident in Guangzhou for 13 years, self-confessed networker, magazine editor and an avid writer.Lena Gidwani是自由网络工作者、杂志编辑和作家，在广州居住了13年。

Learning a language is a process, not a destination. You're not aiming to speak perfect Chinese so you can run for the next presidency. You're aiming to experience China in all its majestic beauty, food, people and culture, even if your tone is completely off.

知道我住在中国的人总爱问我，“你会说多少汉语？”这种移居国外者都会遭遇的老梗，永远也不过时。

我会习惯性地带着遗憾坦白，和那些在中国待了10多年、工作繁忙的人相比，我的语言能力可能好多了。接着，我会把责任推给同事，他们能说一口流利的英语，可得感谢我。

2003年，我初次来中国，发现很多比我早来的人都不会说普通话。普通话有四个声调，同一个字在不同声调下有不同含义。有研究表明，说声调语言（如普通话）的人群在语言理解过程中的信息流非常不同，要同时用到大脑的左半球和右半球。母语是英语的人啊，接招吧！

13年飞逝而过，现在，一有人问我学了多少汉语，我就自信地回答自己对中国有多少了解。这难道不是最有价值的吗？我的普通话也许说得并不完美，但至少可以磕磕碰碰地交谈。

学习语言是一个过程，而不是终点。来中国的目的是体验中国的美景、美食、人民及文化，即使普通话走点调也没关系。

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Text by Lena Gidwani Translation by Emma Xu Illustration by Sandy