Concentrated English in a can
Vicki came to me a few days before and gave me my schedule. At some point in our conversation, she referred to our intensive English courses as “concentrated English courses.”
The best part? She strained, as if she were trying not to say “concentration camp.” Is “intensive course” so difficult to say?
Restroom follies
Picture a restroom the size of an IHOP booth. A toilet in the middle, two urinals on each wall nearly touching with no privacy whatsoever. Now picture it full of people.
This is what I saw at a restaurant. I step inside, and there is a guy on the middle toilet. I gasp and start to back away, but that Chinese hospitality comes into play, and he points at a urinal, smiles and waves me inside. No, it’s OK. There’s plenty of room.
I politely shake my head while turning away and retreating back to my table. I can hold it. Later on, when I’m sure there’s no one coming or going, I enter the bathroom. The smell hits my nose. The sight hits my eyes.
A pile of crap covers the toilet. The kind that would fill up one of our Western toilets. A dung heap that signifies the presence of a sick triceratops. I can hold it some more.
Now picture a sign in Beijing reading “Public Toilets — 20 m.” I head into the little crevice and turn in the door. The voices hit my ears. The sight hits my eyes. There are four square toilets, as close together as desks in a classroom. No stalls. No privacy whatsoever. A man over each, using the bathroom and talking, presumably after eating and talking. The after-dinner bathroom break is a social activity.
I stumble back and immediately zap myself with my “Men in Black” neuralyzer that I just happened to have on me. My mind clear, I remember that I have to pee. So I head to the door.
The language barrier prevented a fist fight …
At dinner one day, an English teacher and a Chinese student are eating. They finish, and the Chinese notices that the teacher has not cleaned his plate.
Student: You waste food. You are typical American.
Teacher: That’s not very nice. What if I called you ‘typical Chinese’?
Student: But I am typical Chinese.
Teacher: That’s not what I … ugh. Never mind.
Familiar Words
Learners of English sometimes substitute familiar words for unfamiliar ones.
Elise is a pro at this. When I wanted a Sprite, I wanted a “Spirit.” When I told her she was the proctor for the exam, it turns out she was actually the “protector,” though “protector” does sort of make sense.
She also calls Wal-Mart by the name Wal-Market because Wal-Mart is an unfamiliar, non-standard word, ditto for Sprite. And proctor is just unfamiliar. In all three cases, her mind switches to the familiar (and let’s face it, perfectly cromulent) words.
A sign you’ve been away too long
A phone rings. My father picks it up.
Father: Hello?
Me: Hey. How are you?
Father: Who is this?
Me: Travis.
Father: Travis who?
Man, I must really be integrated into the culture here.
— Travis Lee is a UT alumnus. He can be reached at [email protected].
