Chinese Tales: It's my First Day

This week my story is a bit short because I have been busy and just changed jobs. Yesterday was my first day at my new job. There were lots of great new people and an even greater amount of new things to learn. New names, new systems, new computers, new toilets, new everything: so I'm very happy and very tired. Because work is from 9-6 at my new company, my manager is allowing me to start at 8am and finish at 5pm on Tuesdays so I can go to Chinese class.

~ ~ ~

Zhège xīngqí wǒ de gùshì shì yidiǎn duǎn, yīnwèi wǒ shì hěn máng, gāng huànle gōngzuò. Zuótiān shì dì yī tiān wǒ zài wǒ de xīn gōngsī. Yǒu hěnduō de hǎorén, gèng duō xuéxí xīn de dōngxī. Xīn de míngzì, xīn de xìtǒng, xīn de diànnăo, xīn de wèishēngjiān, xīn de yīqiè: Suǒyǐ wǒ hěn gāoxìng, hěn lèi. Yīnwèi gōngzuò shì cóng 9 diǎn dào 6 diǎn, wǒ de jīnglǐ ràng wǒ xīngqí'èr 8 diǎn kāishǐ, 5 diǎn líkāi, suǒyǐ wǒ kěyǐ qù zhōngwén kè.

Fake it 'till you Break it

Sunsets are such an enchanting cocktail of colours. Burnt oranges, warm reds, majestic purples... it's such a shame that this display of colour isn't quite as attractive on my knees.

If you'd have told me a few years ago that I'd go to dance lessons, I'd have laughed at you; if you'd have told me just one year ago that I'd be breakdancing, I'd have bought you a nice white jacket with extra-long sleeves. Regardless of who's sanity is in question right now, breakdancing is exactly what I found myself doing this Wednesday. Hence the knees.

No, I didn't spin on my head- does spinning on one's head seem like a good way to break (ahem) into it? It was only about six seconds of "light" breakdancing within a whole three to four-minute routine, but it still required strong enough leg, arm and core muscles to defy gravity for a few nail-biting moments. It was tricky. Failed moves were painful. I loved it.

Do you love baking, but don't consider yourself a baker? Love playing the piano, but don't consider yourself a pianist? Love superheroes and pop culture but don't consider yourself a real geek? I dance up to three times a week, not counting at-home practice (in the kitchen where nobody can see me) and I'm going to be performing in a dance show in April, but I still don't consider myself a dancer. Odd, isn't it? Where does one cross over the bridge of affirmation? I am a baker. I am a pianist. I am a geek. I'm not a dancer.

I dance, but I'm not a dancer.

It's not important, though: what's important is that, whatever I am, I have a great time dancing. During those years ago that I would have laughed at the very idea of me dancing, my permanent state of internal being seemed to be a foetal ball of pre-emptive embarrassment. Yes, I performed many times in front of hundreds of people when playing the piano, but music was always the one fantastically strange exception to my painful awkwardness. I've long since taken a few leaves out of the honey badger's* book (apart from the eating cobras and biting people parts), and now if there is something I want to do, I'll give it my best shot, not worrying about if I'll fail miserably or not. And you know what? I may not feel like I'm a dancer, but I can dance just fine after all.

(Although let's see if I say the same thing after the show in April.)

~ ~ ~

* Link included in case this blog entry is found in a hundred years' time** and the meme has long been forgotten

**Not probable but not impossible, seeing as once something's on the internet it's on there for good. Permanently. Forever. Including all of those drunken picture you upload. Sweet dreams.

Chinese Tales: All of my Trains are Broken!

Once again, before I start, apologies for the English-to-Chinese grammatical weirdness. Also, if I ran the London Underground I probably wouldn't have a go at the government down the phone quite so bluntly: it's been a boring week and I'm literally making up ways for me to use some of last week's new vocabulary!

~ ~ ~

All of my Trains are Broken!

Last week was not very interesting, so I'll talk about the London underground a bit. Last week the underground was really bad. On Wednesday the tube was faulty, so I was nearly late for my dance class. On Saturday the tube was faulty again, so I was late to meet my friend. On Sunday the trains were too slow, so again I was nearly late for dance class. The lessons are important because I have to practise for a show in April- I was not happy. If I was the boss of the Underground, I would call the government and tell them to build a new system, don't fix an old, bad system!

~ ~ ~

Wǒ de Huǒchē Dōu Huài Le!

Shàng ge xīngqí méi yìsi, suǒyǐ wǒ shuō shuō huǒchē/ dìtiĕ yīdiăn. Shàng ge xīngqí dìtiĕ zhēn bù hǎo. Shàng ge xīngqísān dìtiĕ huài le, suǒyǐ wǒ jīhū chídào shàng wǔdǎokè. Shàng ge xīngqíliù dìtiĕ zàicì huài le, suǒyǐ wǒ jiànle wǒ de péngyǒu wǎn. Shàng ge xīngqíiān dìtiĕ tài màn le, suǒyǐ wǒ zàicì jīhū chídào shàng wǔdǎokè. Wǒ bù gāoxìng. Wǔdǎokè hěn zhòngyào, yīnwèi wǒ zài sìyuè de wǔdǎo biǎoyǎn, yào liànxí. Rúguǒ wǒ shì dìtiĕ de lǎobǎn, wǒ huì gěi zhèngfǔ dă diànhuà gàosu tāmen jiànlì xīn de xìtǒng, bù xiū lǎo huài xìtǒng!

Chinese Tales: Culture Confusion

Every week part of my Chinese homework is to prepare a short spoken piece about my week. It only occurred to me this week: why not combine blogging with my weekly Chinese dialogue? My stories are still the sort of thing I'd post here. So from now on, every week I'll write one interesting (or not objectively) thing about my week in English and translate it into pinyin (phonetic Chinese). And, if I have enough time/ can get a Chinese keyboard, translate into character later.

Note: the English part is going to be grammatically structured in a way that will let me translate directly into Mandarin more easily (for example I'll write something like "yesterday I went to the cinema" rather than "I went to the cinema yesterday"). It's going to look a little strange, but thinking with Chinese grammar from the start is much easier than thinking with English grammar and then having to rearrange everything, trust me on this!

Here we go! This week's story: Culture Confusion.

~ ~ ~

My friend looks Chinese, but was actually born in India, so waiters in Chinese restaurants will often speak to her first, and speak in Mandarin: so my friend always has to say "I'm sorry, I can't speak Chinese," and the waiter will always look confused.

Last Thursday, myself, my friend and her boyfriend went to a hotpot restaurant to eat dinner. The waiter immediately spoke Chinese to my friend. "Wanshang hao, ji wei?" he said. ("Good evening, how many people?")

My friend said, "I'm sorry, I can't speak Chinese...", and the waiter looked confused. But he looked even more confused when I suddenly said "san wei, xiexie!" ("Three people, thanks!")

He looked at my friend, her English boyfriend and myself. "Oh!" he said. "Are none of you Chinese?"

My friend said "Er... no..." I thought, "I'm half Chinese", but I didn't say this out loud because I wasn't confident! However I did try to order food in Chinese: but not the dishes that were too difficult!

~ ~ ~

Wǒde péngyǒu kànshàngqù xiàng Zhōngguórén, bùguò tā chūshēng zài Yìndù, suǒyǐ Zhōngguó cānguǎn de fúwùyuán chángcháng tā shuōhuà. Suǒyǐ wǒde péngyǒu zǒngshì dĕi shuō "duìbùqǐ, wǒ bù huì shuō Zhōngwén," hé fúwùyuán zǒngshì kànshàngqù yī diǎn kùnhuò.

Shàng ge xīngqísì, wǒ, wǒde péngyǒu hé tā de nánpéngyǒu qùle huǒguō cānguǎn chī wǎnfàn. Fúwùyuán mǎshàng gēn tā shuōhuà: "Wǎnshàng hǎo, jǐ weì?" tā shuōle.

Wǒde péngyǒu shuōle, "Duìbùqǐ, wǒ bù huì shuō Zhōngwén..." Fúwùyuán kànshàngqùle yī diǎn kùnhuò, dànshì wǒ túrán shuōle "Sān weì, xièxiè!" de shíhòu, tā kànshàngqùle gèng kùnhuò!

Tā kànle wǒde péngyǒu, tā de Yīngguórén nánpéngyǒu hé wǒ. "Oh!", tā shuōle. "Nǐmen shì bùshì Zhōngguórén?"

Wǒde péngyǒu shuōle "Er... bù..." Wǒ xiǎng, "Wǒ shì yībàn Zhōngguórén," bùguò wǒ méi shuōchūkǒ, yīnwèi wǒ méi zìxìn! Bùguò wo shìshìle shuō Zhōngwén diǎn cài: dànshì bù tài nán de cài!

~ ~ ~

Overheard on the Tube

"So then I flung myself on the bed and shouted 'mentor me!'"

"Haha! And did he 'mentor' you?"

"... No. It was super awkward."


~ A gem from the Northern Line this evening.

Who Else Wants a Piece of Me?

The following story happened to me a few years ago, now. It was the kind of thing that could only happen to me.

~ ~ ~

The email came in first thing in the morning: I was pretty excited to get an interview with such a prestigious company, and I was eager to move onto the next stage in my career. I wasn't unhappy with my current company- I just wanted to move up in the world. I booked a day off from work for the following day, handing the holiday form to my manager.

"Tomorrow's fine, Tash," she said, signing the form. "By the way, could I have a quick chat with you just before lunch in the meeting room? It's nothing to worry about."

I smiled said sure, but- of course- instantly started to worry. Had I done something wrong? Were they onto me?? My brain came up with a list of worst-case scenarios.

Ten minutes to lunchtime I was sat opposite my manager at the table in the small meeting room, door closed. My manager smiled.

"I wanted to tell you how impressed we are with your work attitude and how you've been performing. Since C---- is leaving we think you'd be perfect for the position. I'm really pleased to tell you that we'd like to offer you a promotion."

"... Oh. Oh! Thank you, that's great news!" I beamed.

I also felt like a humongous traitor to all sides. Now that I'd accepted a promotion, it was unlikely that the role at new company I was due to be interviewed at would match my new level (either in terms of responsibility or monetarily). Should I still continue with the interview?

I came out of the meeting room, head spinning. What should I do? Lunch would set me straight, surely. I retrieved my bento box from the fridge, sat down cracked it open. No sooner had I taken my first bite did my phone start buzzing away in my bag. I took it out: one new email. I opened the email.

"Thank you for your interest in our role at X. We'd like to invite you for an interview some time in the next few days."

I nearly dropped my phone (and my chopsticks): another interview with another very prestigious company! What was the universe trying to do to me? I faced the same problem as with the first company, considering my newly promoted status. Would I be wasting their time, and my own, to interview with them anyway? Would I be stupid not to go out there and see what was on offer regardless? Who would benefit the most and the least out of my decision either to go or not go?

How would I benefit from each decision?

~ ~ ~

I decided to go to both, in the end- for all I knew there would be more to lose by not going. In the end I needn't have worried, though: both companies had greatly exaggerated the amount of the sort of work I wanted to do in their initial briefs, and after some amiable interrogation on my part, I discovered that neither place was the place for me anyway. I'm glad I decided to go in the end- both experiences gave me a clearer insight into exactly what I wanted to do with myself.


The reason why I'm only writing about this now, years later, is because I'm moving on from my current job and beginning with a new one very soon. Of course it had to happen in a weird way like the last time, because this is me we're talking about: I was headhunted by a recruiter, and on the same day I got called for a second interview I was also suddenly offered a first interview with a second, very different company: and of course, both interviews would happen on the same day, one after another.

Again I had already made up my mind- this time about going for the first company to contact me- and again I decided to take the interview with the second company that I wasn't so sure about. Needless to say I was a little relieved to not fall in love with the second company, and pretty darn stoked to be offered a job with the first shortly after my second interview. I'm also glad I went to the interview that I wasn't so sure about- it was an area of my profession I'd often been curious about, and sometimes wondered if I'd enjoy. Now I know for sure that I wouldn't, and won't be forever wondering what it would have been like.

So here I am, preparing to leave a job that I've been happy enough in for the past few years, and to say goodbye to my awesome colleagues. Still, you know in your heart when it's time to move on. It's easy to stay in one place simply because it feels familiar and safe, and it takes courage to step into the unfamiliar, but life is nothing if you're unable to challenge yourself to do better.