Derek Make the Most Good Post of Honor

In my egocentric brain, all my great readers are wondering one thing. Where has Derek gone? Why has he not blogged? For those of you that thought I had maybe given up, shame on you. The fact that I crack easily under any sort of physical or academic pressure definitely does not translate to the things that require no effort, like talking about myself on the internet. Like it or not, I am going to be around for a very very long time. But the question remains: what could I have possibly been doing for almost two months? Well, I have traveled extensively throughout China, but I always had internet and free time in the hostel. So there goes that excuse. I teach every day, but really for about 4 hours total, so that is also void. Has my life become some bland pit of ho-hum mediocrity from which there is no escape? No, I am 19. I still have plenty of time to be unfulfilled. And so far, my life is brilliant. I continue to have adventures; my nuggets are a constant source of amusement. I have stood on the Great Wall of China. I rode Vespas through the South China countryside. I beheld Chairman Mao's petrified dead body inside an eerily Snow White-esque tomb. In other words, I have no shortage of writing material, and an equal amount of free time. My only problem is that I have forgotten how to speak English. I have great adventures and endless shenanigans, but I now lack the ability to convey my antics to the public in either written or vocal form. My once impressive vocabulary (there, I said it) has rotted into a series of monosyllabic Chinese twinged phrases. I think the best way to describe my new "language" would be something along the lines of "Asian-Fusion." And I definitely do not mean that in a good way. Unlike an Asian-Fusion restaurant, my vocabulary has an alarming lack of pretension. My sarcasm has been whittled to a mere nub of its former glory. I think my downward spiral can be attributed largely to the following sources. First, the "baby talk" phenomenon expressed by stay at home moms and elementary school teachers. I teach young children for whom English is a very tentative second language. I cannot unleash a diatribe of adult vocabulary on children who don't understand abstract concepts. So I now essentially have the vocabulary of a young Chinese child. Oh, except I don't speak Chinese. The second reason I can no longer speak is because pretty much no one speaks any English. Obviously. So instead of carrying on intelligent conversations with adults, I am usually reduced to waving my arms and grunting approval or disapproval. However, a complete lack of English is much better than Engrish, at least for me. My "colleagues" and I met a group of "English-speaking" university students in Changzhou a couple of months ago. Before I came to China, I spent time daydreaming about having Chinese friends. They could tell me all the cool places to go, and I could use them as eavesdropping tools on the bus. I could have a pen pal and someone to teach me marital arts and help me barter with a ferocity that only Asians possess. In reality, making friends with a Chinese person is a lot like being stuck in a foreign language textbook. "Would you like to go to the discotheque?" "How do you spend your time on the weekends?" "What would you like to be called?" The other people in my group don't seem to mind too much. The same cannot be said for me. A conversation with these people is like two old people sitting next to each other with ear trumpets, shouting "WHAT? WHAT?" over and over again. I can only ask a person to repeat himself so many times before I completely lose interest in whatever he is trying to say. The only other English I get in China is an embarrassing hodgepodge of awkwardly strung phrases on billboards and subway stations. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for whatever I can get. These advertisers and city officials have gotten their point across well enough, but the poor choice of words has really wreaked havoc on my linguistic ability. For example, there is a giant 15'x30' billboard in our city advertising a housing development that says the following: "COURTYARD THERE ARE THREE PIECES TOGETHER. THE SUN IS 15 METRES." Well, okay.. Is this neighborhood really only 45 feet from the Sun? When purchasing ice cream one day I had the usual options (vanilla, chocolate), the freaky disgusting Asian ones made out of beans and tea and whatnot, and then one that was listed as "A riot of colour." I think you can guess which one I bought. These signs and linguistic mishaps are all over the place. It never ends. Here are some of the best: "Rare Honour Opened The Garden House Works." I bet it did. "Hot Is The Sole Criterion For Testing The Quality." "Pays attention to the stair carefully to tumble." "General Danger."  "To protect it, that's your virtue." I could go on for quite some time, but I feel at this point that you have a general idea of the severity of the language problem. I have spoken English my entire life, and I could never even begin to form sentences as ridiculous as those. My vernacular is now peppered with some inexplicable phrases: "number one most good," "game over," "very beautiful," "cheaper for you." I hope to dispose of these, but they have been hammered into my subconscious repeatedly, and I fear there is no escape. I have reverted to a few modes when I do speak English. I have my bumbling invalid mode (it's my failsafe), my Asian stereotype mode, and charades/silence. I use the stereotype mode only when threatening my children to be good. I regularly inform them that they must do well in the end of year performance in order to bring honor to their families. Bad behavior usually results in me speaking of concepts like bad luck and shame. I hate myself for doing it, but they usually get the idea. When speaking to my children, I try to use the number one most good English that I have left. I am, after all, the only source of good ol Amurrican English they can expect to receive. But trust me, it gets many more difficult for all the days.