Mr. Wo Wangle

Mandarin lessons are in full swing. Lucas studies nearly an hour each day at school, I study for hours at home, and Brad meets with his instructor at work twice a week.

We are making progress. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

I have a great instructor who works well with my learning style. He appreciates my effort and my sense of humor. His name is Mr. Shu. (For those of you who watch Glee, this cracks me up.) And if you have been reading my blog, you know his name could also possibly be spelled Mr. Xu.

Brad’s instructor is also called Shu—or Xu. (No relation to my Mr. Shu). Mrs. Shu, though, does seem like a relative of Chairman Mao.

Brad has explicitly and horrifyingly described the wasp-thin woman and her classroom methods as if it were a ghost story around the campfire!

Mrs. Shu madly scribbles sentence diagrams on a white board as Brad hastily copies the notes, hoping to finish before she wildly erases the info. She speaks no English. She pantomimes and repeats.

She pantomimes and repeats.

And then the interrogation begins. In machine-gun Chinese, Mrs. Shu yells questions out at Brad, “Ch...zh...x...zh..sh...zh...dj…ma?”

FYI: ma makes any sentence a question.

He admits he can feel the sweat beading on his forehead and slowly dripping down his nose. He is terrified. I see the fear lingering in his eyes hours--even days-- later.

She hammers the same question again and again, “Ch...zh...x...zh..sh...zh...dj…ma?”

He attempts to answer, stammering and stumbling and stuttering. His shirt becomes sweat-stained.

Mrs. Shu pantomimes and repeats.

She pantomimes and repeats.

The torture continues for 90 minutes every Tuesday and every Thursday.

I wonder: If my teacher were Chairman Mao would I make more progress more quickly? Does the fear of death hinder or help language learning?

So I ask Brad to tell me what he has learned.

In total, Brad has covered five useful phrases with Mrs. Shu. (5 phrases in 270 minutes? That doesn’t seem very efficient to me!) And out of the five phases, he can only recall one. He says it.

I laugh.

He writes it down for me.

I laugh again.

Wo Wangle.

Rhymes with Bo Jangle. As in Mr. Bo Jangle.

You have got to be kidding me! That does NOT look Chinese.

Wo wangle!

It certainly does not sound Chinese.

Wo wangle.

Our conversation follows:

Kimberly (incredulous): Wo wangle? Are you sure?

Brad (in P & G executive mode): Yes. Wo wangle.

Kimberly (laughing): What does it mean?

Brad (smiling) : I forget.

Kimberly (incredulous again and slightly mocking): What do you mean, you forget?

Brad (indignant): I forgot!

Kimberly (absolutely disbelieving): Are you sure you forget?

Brad (assertively): Yes, I forgot.

Kimberly (helpfully): It doesn’t look sound Chinese. And it doesn’t look Chinese. What do you think it means?

Brad (forcefully): I forget!

Whatever!

Brad and General Mao have definitely not used his 270 minutes wisely. Really? 270 minutes of sweating and he forgot all 5 phrases?

.................................

Yesterday, Mr. Shu came to my house. I have finally progressed to the past tense!

In Chinese, to make a sentence past, you write it in the present tense, you say exactly what you want, and then, at the end, you put the phrase Le.

Ah....now that looks familiar. Here is Brad's Mr. Wo Wangle!

“So Mr. Shu,” I say, scribbling wo wang le in my notebook. “What does this sentence mean?"

Mr Shu answers, "I forgot."

It's deja vu all over again! This time I ask Mr. Shu, "What do you mean, you forget?"

Mr. Shu patiently explains, "It means I forgot. It is the past tense of forget."

Forgot? Forgot!

I am irate, "You never told me that verb!"

Mr. Shu then makes my day, "You never forget!"

I love China! J

PS: If I have now made you hear that song Mr. Bo Jangles in your head all day, I am sorry! N0w you know what I have been hearing!