So I promised a part 2 of why I’m interested in languages. Previously, I had explained that I had a couple of bad experiences with name calling in Spanish, and that initially prompted my interest in any language other an English. But as is with all endeavors spurred on by revenge, my heart was not in it, and to this day I use Spanish the least. I learned it and passed a fluency exam, I can read, write and speak it well, but do I want to? Nope. Double nope.
Moving on, along came the local Chinese spot. For those who grew up outside of New York City’s urban neighborhoods, we called the local Chinese fast food place, “the spot”. There was usually a “chicken spot” and the Chinese “spot”, and your momma’s cooking. That’s it, three sources of food. This time, paranoia got the best of me and my friends who always assumed the guy behind the counter was talking smack about us in Chinese.
So a pattern was developing:
Non Black person: “@le$%#b#$%%, @#jhk#%”
Me: *squinting suspiciously*: “What did you call me?
Non Black person: *flailing arms* “hadsjhd%^&jdbd!”
Annnd, misunderstandings ensue. In an effort to cut down the language barrier, I began developing an interest in studying foreign languages. I have a really fond memory of being in a Chinese spot, and translating from Spanish to Chinese for a guy wanted to order chuletas pork chops, and the lady couldn’t figure out what he wanted. (Yes the Chinese restaurants in the hood make spanish food XP), then Chinese to English for my friend who was with me at the time. Using three languages in one instance like that made me feel really warm inside, and special and useful .
So there’s my ranting. I currently stumble my way through conversations at my local Chinese nail salon. I try very hard every day, maybe one day I can be a translator n_n
Until next time
-TBG
trendyblackgirl 