Chinatown New York

In Taiwan, I spoke Chinese every day. Perhaps not the most articulate Chinese, but I was able to tell all my juicy secrets to several Taiwanese friends using the words contained in my textbook, Practical Audio-Visual Chinese, Volumes 1, 2, and the first eight chapters of Volume 3. Oh, I also threw in some slang for effect, taught to me by my hip Taiwanese friends.

However, having been in the States for two weeks so far, I'm afraid I haven't had the chance to practice my Chinese, except for my thirty minute conversation with my friend Michael, who is another Jewish acupuncturist who lives on the West Coast. If you are Taiwanese, you would have loved to listen to our conversation. Two laowai talking Chinese. Very entertaining.

You could say that I have been a little thirsty to speak Chinese. So, when my mother and I went to New York this past weekend, I thought I might have an opportunity to go to Chinatown and practice, quench that thirst a little, perhaps.

We stayed in Tribeca, where many famous, beautiful, and glamorous people live, including: Gwyneth Paltrow, Scarlett Johansson, Kate Winslet, Meryl Streep... oh, and let's not forget my sister, Alona.

On Saturday, my Mom and I took a walk from Tribeca to Chinatown, which is actually only about a ten minute walk, maybe fifteen minutes. I was so happy to see sign after sign in Chinese. Remember, I am still experiencing culture shock after having lived in Taiwan for a year. In the States, there are so many big white people, and so much correct English! I'm not used to it.

As I do in Taiwan, I look up and start trying to read the street signs, the billboards, the Chinese calligraphy on windows and above stores. I really do miss it all, even though it makes my head spin.

Our plan is to get some tea before we grab a cab to meet my sister in the East Village. We walk, and I keep my eyes open for a traditional teahouse.

My mom tells me to wait while she goes into a store that sells knick-knacks from Asia, like wooden reflexology sandals that have small raised wooden "fingers" which massage the soles of your feet while you walk.

The shop is a big stall--there is no door. The shopkeeper sits behind a table. He's in his 30's, Chinese, perhaps my age, and he's facing me. His expression is focused, and as I look at him, he looks straight ahead. He doesn't talk to me even though I am a customer looking right at him. I wonder if he is Chinese mafia and paid to look tough. But as I stand there, I realize there is a tape recorder next to him repeating sentences in Chinese and in English.

"I am studying English" the woman on the tape recorder says. "我在學英文" she repeats in Chinese. I realize that my opportunity to speak Chinese is here.

I smile and ask him in Chinese, "So, are you studying English?"

He is surprised to hear a laowai speak Chinese, and he goes from mafia-face to smile. He tells me he is studying English because he wants to get a green card and become a US citizen. He compliments me on my Chinese ("很表準"). As usual, I reply that my Chinese is actually not that good, but thanks for the compliment.

I ask him where there's a good place to get some tea. He tells me that around the corner there's a cheap place. We say goodbye, and I walk out with my mother. I am so happy to finally speak Chinese!

Later, I go to the tea place and I tell the kid I want some wulong tea. He tells me there are no tapioca pearls (珍珠; zhen zhu) in the kind of tea I have just ordered. I know this. I don't want zhen zhu in my cha. That's for kids. So I say, "不要,不要"("I don't want them!").

In Chinese, he responds, "You want it hot?(熱的嗎?)"

"Yes, 對," I reply, "Hot, 熱的."

My mother is waiting for me outside. We've got to get a cab and meet my sister in the Village, but I'm a little less parched, and am ready for our next adventure in the US of A.