Absolutely gorgeous. Now what does it mean.
On my headstone it shall read: Here lies Veronica. Beloved wife and mother, friend to many, and a lifelong learner of the Chinese language. My time in Beijing has brought me to a conclusion I had suspected for years but have only just begun to accept. As a foreigner, you have no chance of achieving fluency in Mandarin unless you end up with a Chinese spouse. The only examples I’ve seen of foreigners chattering away in Mandarin is if they also have Chinese in-laws. While I concede that this hypothesis lacks empirical data, I have yet to see it widely disproven. Mandarin is a lifetime commitment.
I had many expectations for this semester abroad in Beijing, but the highest by far was to have the language light bulb in my head turn on, and for my Chinese competency to soar. I had imagined that just sheer exposure to everyday Chinese people would improve my oral skills tenfold and I would leave a capable and self-assured speaker. Learning through osmosis. However, through a combination of my own failings and unforeseen events, I find myself a quarter of the way into my semester and so far let down by my progress.
To begin with, practicing oral skills in any language you’re not comfortable with is paralyzing. My reading comprehension is passable, and I do find real joy in practicing characters, but when confronted with an impatient shopkeeper, the words in my head remain static in my throat. I was recently shown a video of Mark Zuckerberg debuting his Mandarin at a conference at Tsinghua University. Zuckerberg, who has a Chinese wife I might add, spoke for twenty minutes in front of a crowd of native Chinese speakers. While his 中文水平 (Chinese level) is that of an intermediate learner, the ease with which he spoke really struck me. I mean, he even answered direct questions asked to him by the moderator. In public. It was a show of confidence you rarely see in Chinese learners. In this I identified my biggest shortcoming keeping me from taking my Chinese to the next level. I am petrified of making a mistake in public. It’s easier to feign ignorance than to be confronted with a strangers’ contempt. This is not founded in reason- Chinese people are quick with a compliment and find any foreigner’s venture into Mandarin charming. (Compare this to the reaction of your average American communicating with someone still learning to speak English. “Go back to your country! Learn English!)
The other aspect of my experience that has kept me from a full immersion is one that I can neither criticize nor regret. In choosing Beijing as my study abroad destination I made a conscious decision to forego the “European experience”. I decided to give up bi-weekly trips to Italy, Portugal and Germany while meeting delightful strangers on RyanAir flights. But I’m still an international student at 人民 University stuck in the international students dorm. In a completely inadvertent move, I find myself texting my Irish, Dutch, French and Spanish friends every day. I’ve picked up some Irish slang, toast in Spanish on nights out, and plan weekend trips to Shanghai with the “Dutchies” at Renmin. It’s an eclectic group of nationalities, too many to count, and I’ve been completely taken in by the allure of conversations with other foreigners.
My mother likes to say that learning a language is like taking on a set of stairs. Most of the time you’re looking up at the vertical wall in front of you and it takes everything in your arsenal to make it to a flat plane. Once you reach the plateau, you are given a chance to reflect on your growth and relish the feeling of having overcome a challenge. Then it starts all over again as the next step looms before you. I had hoped that by the end of this semester I would see measurable change in my Mandarin ability but I may have to lower my expectations a bit. With any luck I’ll find my soul mate in成都 (Chengdu, Sichuan province) and with that I’ll finally finish climbing these stairs.