Learning Chinese in an academic environment is (and this is probably painfully obvious but I’ll say it anyway) absolutely nothing like learning it in “the real world.” First, you realize that, in the real world, when you ask a stranger (in a store, perhaps) how to say something you are imposing on their time. They are not there to help you and, while most are polite enough to say it once very quickly, they are not willing to stick around and make sure you have your tones right. Or that you heard it correctly. They are not your teacher, they are just unlucky blokes that got cornered by a big nose and are trying to expend the least possible energy to extricate themselves from that predicament. I’ve been in their position in the United States and, quite frankly, I understand.

The focus of your learning differs too. In the classroom, you focus on words that allow you to express often abstract ideas. They want you to be able to talk about the weather and other such trivia. In the real world, it is focused squarely on survival. You learn words you need only after realizing you need them because you’re stuck not knowing how to express some key point.

For instance, my first night in Hangzhou I was left in my apartment by the staff without any toilet paper. The pasta I’d eaten on the plane just before landing in Shanghai wanted out, and I was stuck without a dictionary but with an acute need for toilet paper.

I found out, after a few moments of frustrating pantomime with the guard downstairs, the toilet paper in Chinese is not simply 厕所纸 (literally, toilet + paper). Thankfully I was able to say that I needed to 买东西 and was lead to a small convenience store near my apartment building which sold toilet paper (which is, by the way, 卫生纸, hygiene paper).

But, you know what? I’ll never forget the Chinese for toilet paper.

Posted by John on Friday, August 29th, 2003 at 8:11 pm.