Same same?

The Chinese have Beiber-fever. They're into the Twilight series, and
can't get enough of the TV shows "Friends," and "The Big Bang Theory." At least
someone's watching "The Big Bang Theory." The other day, my Chinese
coworker Michelle was quizzing me on American culture. She wanted to
know if "Desperate Housewives" mimicked real life at all. "Hardly." I replied "Nobody is
like that." Of course what I meant was that nobody spied on their
neighbors, had multiple affairs and lived with such ridiculous
scandal. Michelle laughed and agreed, underlining how crazy and
surreal it would be to have such a huge house and garden, so far from
your neighbors.

The point is, when it comes to Western culture, the Chinese are slowly
buying in. Of course McDonalds and Lady Gaga are old hat. (Side note:
if you haven't seen this clip, it's an absolute must. The band in the
beginning is managed by my good friend Emily's roommates.) Most
Chinese have picked up on our fast-food, our music, and our TV. Yet
there are some subtitles that are still, well, a bit off.

Case in point: the cafe/bakery combo. The Chinese aren't known for
their desserts, to put it nicely. Maybe it's the lack of butter, maybe
it's the general distaste for anything too sweet, but every pastry
I've tried has made me wish that I'd just stuck to a bag of M&Ms.
This, however, hasn't stopped the rise of cafe/bakery combinations
that can be found on nearly every block of the city. The smell is
incredible and they offer free Wifi for the price of a dry donuts. So
tempting, and yet so disappointing. They're incredibly popular, and if
you sit there long enough, you'll see packs of young people coming in
and buying not one, but a tray full of pastries. Let me back up: when
you walk in the door, you're offered a tray to put your goodies on.
I'd usually choose one (very carefully. Many are filled with things
like tuna or "pork floss" so you have to choose wisely). My Chinese
counterparts would choose six or seven. I've watched girls who are
smaller than I am carefully eat entire pans of cake, along with
several donuts and a small tart. After sitting and staring, I've
developed a theory: Chinese pastries are devoid of all fat and
calories. This leads them to be A) terrible and B) guilt-free! It's
how these women are able to down six or seven in one sitting and
remain model-thin.

Example #2: the subtitles. Most people know that it's easy to get a
boot-legged DVD here in Beijing. They're everywhere and they're
incredibly cheap. While they aren't dubbed, they do come with Chinese
subtitles. During the movie, when a cultural reference is mentioned
they usually put a quick Chinese explanation on the bottom of the
screen, followed by the English word. Or they try to. The other day, I
was watching a movie where one of the main characters described
himself as "in a pickle." On the bottom of the screen, I could see a
few Chinese characters and then the English words "Pickles the Frog."
Who's Pickles the Frog? Should I be embarrassed not to know the
reference, or curious as to the plot of the movie that my Chinese
counterparts must be watching?

Finally, there's Halloween. This holiday hasn't caught on at all. In
fact, the only references to Halloween could be seen at Western-style
grocery stores, or bars catering to the expat crowd. That was it -
though it didn't stop Beijing from being the single greatest place in
the world to buy Halloween costumes. Why, you ask? Because my Chinese
peers insist on wearing bunny ears and panda paws all the time. Why
wait for once a year, when you can dress up every day? So, sure, when
we took the subway on Halloween, we half-posed for sneaky camera
pictures taken of our ridiculous costumes. I was the "Year of the
Rabbit," Emily dressed up as a popular Chinese cartoon character. But
I'm willing to bet that had we'd not been foreign, the costumes would
have been regarded as totally normal. Fashionable, even.

There was a phrase that was popular in Thailand that I picked up when
I was backpacking there. They boys at the center used to say it all
the time. "Same same." As in "Food here, same same America?" It was
everywhere, and because of the popularity many vendors even sold
tee-shirts with the saying on the front. Some took it a step father
adding that things were "same same but different." I can't think of a
more appropriate phrase for what I'm trying to describe. Bakeries,
movies, western culture in general is same same...but, well,
different.

Chinglish

One of the single greatest things about living in a foreign country is the language barrier. Yes, there are times when I wish that I could just explain to a cab driver the general vicinity of my destination, or ask a waiter to describe a dish, but seeing things like "a friend boiled," or "a Jew's ear" (what happened to the other one??) on a menu makes up for this entirely. Speaking little to no Chinese makes doing every day tasks an incredible adventure, and usually a hilarious story. There is now "the time I tried to order soup," "the time 10 waitresses surrounded my table, trying to figure out what I wanted," and "the time I tried to find the subway station, but instead was pointed to an actual Subway sandwich shop." Classics. Most of these stories are created when I do things alone, as luckily most of my friends here are conversational, if not fluent. For the first couple of days I was here, I followed them around wide-eyed as they did things like get me a metro card and put money on my phone. Now, I'm more independent and trying to play that role for my parents.

As most know, I was living in China for about three weeks before my parents were able to join me here. In those three weeks, I'd managed not only to become employed (easier than ordering off of a menu. Within five minutes of posting my resume, I had a phone call setting up an interview. The next day I had a job and the day after I began to tutor English) but also to pick up a few key "survival phrases." This has allowed me to have many one-sided conversations, and also was the inspiration for the game I like to play, called "Guess the Answer." Here's an example
Me: I want a vegetable dumpling. Without meat.
Them: *speaks for a good twenty seconds, gesturing to various dumplings*
Me: Yes.

Now, unless they had simply said "Ok," or "Don't have," I wouldn't have been able to understand them. So, instead I "Guess the Answer." In this case, I like to imagine that they said "Well, we do have non-meat dumplings, but they've been sitting in the sun all day, and we're about to throw them in the garbage can over there. I really wouldn't eat them if I were you, but if you say 'yes' right now, I'll be convinced to let you have them."

I love having one-sided conversations. I also love nodding wisely, pretending I understand what they are saying completely. I manage to fool old ladies, who just want an audience in an elevator, but I also think I've managed to fool my parents. The minute they saw me direct a cab ("Straight. Straight. Straight. Right turn.") they were convinced I had become a conversational speaker in less than 30 days. My dad, especially, thinks I'm a prodigy child. Every time I point to a menu and say "that" he yells "She's done it again! Amazing!" It's really flattering, but I think they might be overestimating my abilities a bit. The other day he asked me to open a bank account for him. Unless he doesn't want meat in his bank account, I don't think I can help him out.

Sometimes I can't help but to wish we all spoke the same language. Things might be a bit easier if I weren't mute and illiterate, but I sure as hell wouldn't have snagged a job in less than a day just because I spoke English, and there's no way that my bootleg version of "Black Swan," would have read "Black Sean." For now, I'm just not willing to give these things up.