Have you ever heard someone talk about knowing enough of another language to 'get oneself into trouble'? I am having a little trouble. Having studied Chinese for a year already, I feel pretty comfortable getting around. Shopping, taxis, buses, and daily 'stuff' are fairly routine. However, the neighborhood surrounding my school is primarily inhabited by people that do not claim Chinese as their mother tongue I routinely find myself fumbling through exchanges in which there is no common language.
Somewhere during my first week here, I stopped in the small grocery store next to the front gate of my school. The cashier is a mildly plump, middle-aged, fairly traditional Uyghur woman. She is a woman of few words but has a kind smile and overall congenial personality. "Yahximusiz", I said, saying hello in Uyghur. In doing so, I had just exhausted a rather large portion of my Uyghur vocabulary. She responded in kind and felt proud of myself for showing off my mad language skills. After selecting a few items I went to the little desk that functions as her counter. Feeling emboldened by my previous linguistic success, I pulled out my secret weapon, my mother of all Uyghur phrases. "I'm studying Uyghur", I said in Uyghur. "Wow, Jesse! That was good", I thought to myself. Her eyes brightened as she let out an approving, "Aaaahhhhh! Yakxi!", which I know to mean "Good". Basically 75% of my Uyghur vocab has now been exhausted.
Things took a turn for the worse when she immediately announced the price of my purchase....in Uyghur. After a long, blank stare, I timidly asking in Chinese, "How much?" She repeated the price in Uyghur. Digging deep into my memory, I slowly began counting (out loud) in Uyghur. One. Two. Three. OH! It was 3 kuai! Jack pot. Maybe there is hope for me!
Here is the trouble, though. This dear woman, assuming that I am studying Uyghur, now seems personally committed to my cause. She only speaks to me in Uyghur. Even if I speak in Chinese, the answer comes in Uyghur. I am deeply thankful for her commitment to my academic success, but buying yogurt and water has become a real pain in the butt! Just tonight she was rattling on to me and I managed to decipher that she was asking me if I was from the US. (USA in Uyghur is 'Amerika', with a bit of a rolled 'r'.) I shook my head and pointed to my chest, "America." On the bright side, I could look at shopping there as free Uyghur tutoring. I just hope
Somewhere during my first week here, I stopped in the small grocery store next to the front gate of my school. The cashier is a mildly plump, middle-aged, fairly traditional Uyghur woman. She is a woman of few words but has a kind smile and overall congenial personality. "Yahximusiz", I said, saying hello in Uyghur. In doing so, I had just exhausted a rather large portion of my Uyghur vocabulary. She responded in kind and felt proud of myself for showing off my mad language skills. After selecting a few items I went to the little desk that functions as her counter. Feeling emboldened by my previous linguistic success, I pulled out my secret weapon, my mother of all Uyghur phrases. "I'm studying Uyghur", I said in Uyghur. "Wow, Jesse! That was good", I thought to myself. Her eyes brightened as she let out an approving, "Aaaahhhhh! Yakxi!", which I know to mean "Good". Basically 75% of my Uyghur vocab has now been exhausted.
Things took a turn for the worse when she immediately announced the price of my purchase....in Uyghur. After a long, blank stare, I timidly asking in Chinese, "How much?" She repeated the price in Uyghur. Digging deep into my memory, I slowly began counting (out loud) in Uyghur. One. Two. Three. OH! It was 3 kuai! Jack pot. Maybe there is hope for me!
Here is the trouble, though. This dear woman, assuming that I am studying Uyghur, now seems personally committed to my cause. She only speaks to me in Uyghur. Even if I speak in Chinese, the answer comes in Uyghur. I am deeply thankful for her commitment to my academic success, but buying yogurt and water has become a real pain in the butt! Just tonight she was rattling on to me and I managed to decipher that she was asking me if I was from the US. (USA in Uyghur is 'Amerika', with a bit of a rolled 'r'.) I shook my head and pointed to my chest, "America." On the bright side, I could look at shopping there as free Uyghur tutoring. I just hope