After seven years in China, you’d think that navigating the streets of Beijing should be a piece of cake. Unfortunately, it’s anything but. Just yesterday, I was trying to get to my school for some editorial work and spontaneously decided to take public transport for the first time in a long time, because I’m just that adventurous (and my phone was out of service so ordering a Didi was a no-go).

I thought I knew my way around the city pretty well. Boy, was I wrong. I couldn’t seem to find a bus station anywhere in the area. After walking for what felt like an eternity, I finally spotted my golden goose: the Jintai Lu subway station. I’m much more familiar with subway routes, which is why I was relieved to have seen a station on the horizon. Before I knew it, I was darting through the busy streets and running down the escalator to buy a subway ticket, so that I could reach school as fast as my little legs would allow.

I’m not entirely fluent in Chinese which is why I was not able to ask around for guidance or direction. Even if I had, I would not have understood a single word and would have probably hit them with a good old “Duì!” or “Shénme?” Worst of all, I couldn’t rely on my best friend Google Translate (nor Google Maps) either. Tell me you’re having a bad day without telling me you’re having a bad day.

Living in a foreign country and not being able to speak the language is a struggle on the whole, and not just here in Beijing. The language barrier often sets us back and restricts us in countless ways: whether we’re ordering food, trying to find our way around town, or even something as simple as buying groceries from the local jingkelong. All of it requires some sort of communication and verbal interaction, which is one of the many reasons I’ve decided to stop taking Chinese for granted and really learn the language (a decision that is seven years late, but better late than never, am I right?). And honestly, I encourage everyone living in China who can’t speak Chinese yet, to do the same.

Learning the language will not only keep you open-minded but also allow you to get the most out of your stay here in China. Becoming entirely fluent certainly won’t happen overnight. However, it’s a great first step towards autonomy and having to rely less on the same three Chinese words you learned the first week you got to Beijing.

KEEP READING: Mind Your (Text) Language: Texting and Teen Literacy

Images: Unsplash

Visiting your Chinese in-laws during Chinese New Year can sometimes be a stressful experience. They can be the most friendly people on the planet, but the holiday excitement combined with getting the whole family (cousins, uncles, friends, neighbors) together for an entire week can prove to be a bit much. But if there’s one thing that you don’t have to worry about, it’s the ability of your kids to connect with the grandparents.

It’s not that common to have local grandparents who aren’t fluent in English, but a language barrier is nothing in the face of love.

My adorable little nephew Daniel was born and raised in London and at 2.5 years old, he’s not speaking any language fluently let alone both English and Chinese. He’s still wobbling around the house happily singing “tinkle tinkle eettle star” instead of “twinkle twinkle little star”.

But, just because he can’t speak Chinese (or any language really) yet, doesn’t mean he and his grandma aren’t having the most riveting hour-long chats every single day. “Is he really that interesting?” “Yes! I can’t get enough of him!”, she’d tell me.

Watching grandma listen intently that little munchkin babbling on and on about (what we think) is an update on his day is the epitome of unconditional love. Which brings me back to Chinese New Year.

Going to visit the in-laws and for some parents, introducing their baby to grandma and grandpa for the very first time is going to be one of those “aw” moments to be remembered forever. No matter what HSK level your Chinese is currently at when it comes to family, love transcends any language.

Photos: Apple Jin, unsplash, brightside.com

When my wife told me she’d been offered a job in Beijing, the first thing I did was go to the library and borrow all their “Teach Yourself Chinese” courses. I listened to the CDs in the kitchen and in the car, and dutifully repeated the conversations, an alarming number of which seemed to revolve around a western man chatting up a Chinese woman. Ni xiang qu he wo nar ma? I think my wife got quite worried.

Nonetheless, I stuck to my task. I learned my vocabulary, practised my tones, and when friends asked me if I spoke any Chinese, would smugly pronounce Wo hui shuo yidianr putonghua…

Then we arrived in China, and reality hit me in the face. I couldn’t understand anything, and couldn’t make myself understood. Instead of the careful articulation of the actors on the CDs, I was confronted by the authentic voice of Beijing: drawling, rasping, and more or less entirely free of consonants, like a consumptive pirate with a mouthful of toffee. My mangled attempts at Mandarin were met with incomprehension, bemusement and contempt.

After several panic-inducing encounters, I realized the Teach Yourself books were deceiving me. I will never engage in cheery conversations with waiters, but instead will always have to order by grunting while stabbing a finger at pictures on the menu, like a chimp in a 1970s psychology experiment. In fact, I learned, you can get by with just five phrases. So, to save you time and money, I present the only language course you will ever need: Actually Useful Mandarin Chinese Made Easy.

1. Ni hao. “Hello. Please don’t talk to me.”

2. Wo ting bu dong. "I have no idea what you just said to me, and I can’t be entirely certain what I said to you. I am completely out of my depth here."

3. Wo zhi shi kankan. "I’m just staring in confusion at the things in your shop. Frankly I don’t know what many of them are, and you waving things under my nose and shouting at me is unlikely to lead to a successful transaction."

4. Xie xie. "I’m not sure what happened here, but I’m hoping that a response of abject gratitude will get me out of it with some degree of dignity."

5. Zai jian. “I’m going home now to hide in a cupboard.”

About the Author
Andrew Killeen is a novelist and creative writing teacher. He was born and brought up in Birmingham, England, studied English Literature at Cambridge University and now lives in Beijing with his wife and two sons, aged 10 and 6. In the UK he ran a weekly writers’ group, founded a literary festival and lectured in creative writing at Coventry University. He is also a qualified positive parenting practitioner. In his spare time he is a musician and DJ, and enjoys watching soccer and cricket, playing poker, and pontificating on social media. His critically acclaimed historical novels are available from Dedalus Books.

In some cases, I can confidently say, yes I can. When being given simple instructions at a shop, for instance, like “Here’s the receipt, keep it, there is a one year warranty on the product.” After all, once you have heard the same phrase and its many incarnations more than a dozen times, you can pretty much get the gist of what is being said, even if there are a few words you miss out on. Or when ayi or the driver explain what they need or give back a report on an errand they’ve just run.