martes, 6 de abril de 2010

Of shoes, writing and scorpions



In college foreign language classes, learning lists of vocabulary words was a piece of cake. Learning Chinese has taught me why. I learn fastest through associations and the ones drawn in my mind for French words usually happened subconsciously.

Several months into living in China, I still mimicked sounds in hopes I was speaking any language. Even after training my ears to Chinese phonetics (thank you pinyin), it’s still incredibly difficult to remember words individually. I hear a word, identify the tone, place the meaning. Five minutes later: nothing. After failing at flash cards, I resorted to learning new vocabulary in sentences and... it sticks! (Which sounds a bit counter-intuitive, no?)
I understand even better why Chinese sounds so repetitive to westerners, because it is. Most people know that, in Chinese, the tone of each word changes its meaning (so why diversify phonetic sounds if tones serve the same purpose?). What many don’t realize is that tones are assigned to syllables, not words. So, changing the tone of one syllable in a multi-syllable word will change the meaning. Take:
     xiézi 鞋子 = shoe
     xiězì 写字 = write
     xiēzi 蝎子 = scorpion
Also, notice each “xie” character is different. Almost a fifth of our planet communicates like this.
Before I dissuade anyone from attempting Chinese, I have to say that the learning process really is just like with any other language: The more you learn, the faster you learn. After a semester of Spanish you stop ‘rounding’ your vowels so you make a solid “o” and not “oh”. A semester of French will teach you that pronouncing the American “r” in Français sounds silly. Seven months in, tones just make sense and learning Chinese words individually is becoming a subconscious process. 
One of my favorite things about Chinese is the way it weaves complexity and simplicity. Although the grammar is relatively uncomplicated (like, no conjugating!), it still manages to greatly reduce room for confusion. Just like other languages, you learn a grammar rule, think it’s annoying and unnecessary, then a couple months later find it indispensable. 
Most importantly, it’s a language to experience. When Chinese begins to grow daunting and dread starts to set in, it’s nothing a simple conversation on the subway or finding yourself understanding a newspaper headline can’t fix.