On Language (again)

Random Canadian traveler in buffet line at the hostel where we stayed in Dali: So if you guys are teaching and living here, do you speak any Chinese?

CEIer in line (I forget who): Yeah, some. We’re not that good though.

Canadian: Do you have to speak it a lot?

CEIer: Some. I mean, we teach in Chinese.

Canadian: Wait, what?

Although I’ve had a lot of language-related stuff in my posts, I haven’t done a truly language-focused post for quite a while. So here’s an update of sorts.

Basically, I’ve come to the conclusion that dropping me (a non-native Mandarin speaker who’s only studied previously in formal contexts and in Beijing) here is not really at all akin to dropping a Chinese person into, say, Columbus, GA. Columbus is in the south, and, as such, there are very thick accent issues to work through. I’m sure that for non-native English speakers, Columbus is a frustrating place to be for some time after arrival. My students, and I would assume students all over China, study California, TV anchor English. As far as they’re concerned, there’s no such thing as a southern drawl, New York nasal vowels, or Boston dropped r’s. For beginning students, such clear English makes sense, but it also means that there’s no proper preparation for authentic situations, interacting with real, accented people. Anyway, Columbus would not be an easy place to have one’s first English interactions, even after years of formal study.

This is much worse. Because, you see, dropping me into the Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture of Yunnan is not akin to dropping a native Chinese speaker into Columbus, Georgia, but is much closer to dropping a native Chinese speaker into a Latino Immigrant Community in Southern California.

There are three distinct languages at play here, each more incomprehensible to me than the next. First, there’s straight up Mandarin, what I studied in school and during my semester in Beijing. Only, it isn’t straight up Mandarin, because most of the students and staff here don’t speak standard Mandarin. Their tones aren’t the same as what I’ve studied, their vowels are formed differently (sounding almost British), and according to Malijun and Yiming, their grammar isn’t typical either. In a tonal language, having inaccurate tones, well, complicates speaking and comprehension. The lead teacher for my class speaks very local Mandarin, and, hence, we don’t communicate well. My kids’ accents vary, but I often need more standard speakers to translate what a less standard speakers have said.

Mandarin is the language of the classroom and of other official school business, or at least it’s supposed to be. That’s a small mercy, because it means I can sometimes begin to catch the gist of faculty meetings, even with accent issues. That being said, I’m rarely confident enough in my understanding not to check in with Yiming or Malijun for details afterwards. Plus, being the official language of school business doesn't mean it's always the language of school business.

After Mandarin comes the local dialect. It’s related to Mandarin, but if you don’t have a full grasp of Mandarin there’s essentially no way you’d understand. Arianne’s beginning to, but she’s also spent much more time living in China than the rest of us. This is one of the languages I hear out and about around the school and town. When I got here I couldn’t even tell the difference between local (accented) Mandarin and the dialect, but my ear’s improved enough that, most of the time, I can now. Some of the older people here (and, unfortunately, some of my students’ parents) don’t speak Mandarin at all, although some who don’t speak it can still understand because of TV and stuff.

The least comprehensible language, although—let’s be honest—the local dialect is equally confusing, is 白族话 (Bai Zu Hua). This is the language of the Baizu minority that populates most of these parts. There are 56 distinct “minorities” in China, and Yunnan is one of China’s most diverse regions. Considering that I’ve been living in the Bai region for well over five months I feel bad that I don’t know more about these people. I’ve now been witness to a Baizu wedding, and of course I know what married Baizu women wear, because it’s the dress I see all over the town. However, I have yet to really learn about their history, how they came to be here, and how their modern-day culture differs from that of the traditional Han culture. I do know that their language is Tibetan-Myanmese in origin and I don’t understand a word of it.

At this point I’m fairly confident in my ability to communicate with standard Mandarin speakers. I can’t discuss philosophy or politics or anything technical, but when it comes to the every day I can generally hold conversations as long as my conversation partners are patient and will help me to understand concepts. I’m not at the point that I can understand TV though, because there’s no way to stop the speakers and ask them to slow down, repeat themselves, or define a word. Someday, perhaps, I’ll get there. In the meantime, I’m trying to think of ways to keep my Mandarin from flagging during my almost 6-week absence from China. Podcasts and books, perhaps?