C is pronounced with a TS…

Bob : “It’s not fun, it’s just different”
(’Lost in Translation’)

I’m not sure what I’m doing here, I’m not sure what I’m looking for and if I am looking for something. Most times, trying to talk about what goes on through my mind - it’s impossible. What ever words you use, they sound too plain - never adequate. The looks of the people you’re talking to clearly show that they get a completely wrong idea and that you’ve managed to once again screw the whole explanation to a point where you’re not even sure what you’re saying. One thought is linked to another, there’s so much to say, but suddenly you realize that you’re contradicting a point you were unsuccessfully trying to portrait a minute before. Listening to others talk about their feelings you soon realize that they either have a hard time - like you do - talking about it, or maybe it’s that they are very different and you’re in this all alone.

Bob: What do you do?
Charlotte :I’m not sure yet, actually.
(’Lost in Translation’)

It started, and I reacted in the most natural way - I freaked out. Whereas for other people freaking out means losing control, freaking out means something different to me. I put on my ‘Cynical cloak’, and walk around mocking myself and the world. This is not reality, this could not be happening. Cynicism, blended with dark humor, are the ways I go by. Damn, I don’t care - there might be a reason why I’m going through this but it’s got nothing to do with God, Buddha or fate - it’s just the way I do things. So why is that? What’s the reason? Hell, who cares?

Bob: Whatever you like - I’m just completely lost.
Lydia Harris: It’s just carpet.
Bob: That’s not what I’m talking about.
Lydia Harris: What are you talking about?
Bob: I don’t know.
(’Lost in Translation’)

Z is actually TZ, C is pronounced with a TS, R is more like a J sound, and when followed by an I you need to do an E sound. Every one pronounces it differently, and listening to the teacher you’re absolutely sure that she’s making fun of you because it sounds like she’s rotating between two pronunciations. Boys and girls, fasten your seatbelts and hold on tight - we’re off for the crazy ride.

Whether or not I really want to do this Chinese course seems to be the wrong question to ask. I’ve told myself, and others, so many times that this is what I want to do that keeping asking the same question wouldn’t bring newer understanding. It seems like it’s something I have to do. Want to get to know the culture? I think so, want to understand the people? Perhaps, but there’s more to it. This has been going on for a while, building up inside ever since beginning of this year in Israel, through out this trip, bringing me here, to Taiwan, to study Mandarin Chinese.

There’s a big discussion between foreigners here - whether people teaching English and studying Chinese here are people who are running away. “It’s not running away per say, because I can go back any time, it’s more like I’m looking for something better” said by one newcomer, would usually be returned with a skeptical look and half a smile suggesting that listeners can spot something the person making the statement is overlooking. There seems to a common background to western folks who decide that they want to go do this in Taiwan, of all places. Stories have some good variations but the basics are the same. Born ‘Lost in Translation?’ … (I wonder - would it be somewhat same for, say, a Taiwanese going to, say, England?)

Bob: Enjoy your fright.
(’Lost in Translation’)

Either way, after a while in Taiwan, I like it here. Maybe I really wanted to like it here. I like the feeling I get in the morning, I like the streets, the food and the people, yeah, I even enjoy the kindergarden-sensation-inflicting Chinese lessons. Very different from my Bangkok and Saigon experience - so what makes this one different?