Sunday, May 07, 2006

Lost Without Translation

This past week was the May holiday for most of China. Schools let out for the full week, and most places of work let out for at least 3-4 days. This is also one of the busiest travel times in all of China. I spent the week with my friend Brandon in Wuhan, visiting families, watching movies, and relaxing in a more accomadating, large city. This was really refreshing, and a good break before the last eight weeks of the term.

On Friday morning, I boarded a train for the six hour ride back to ShiYan, where I live. Most of the trip was uneventful, but I did notice that there were several children in my compartment, specifically 3 little girls about 4 or 5 years old. I had a sleeper berth, so I was able to spread out most of the trip. The last hour or so, I set at a table next to the window, which is also in the aisle where people walk.

I was sitting and reading a book (The Bourne Supremacy--much better than the movie), when I noticed that the girls kept watching me. Now, if you've ever been to China, you understand that this is not uncommon, people tend to stare, watch, and point--without regard or shame-- at any foreigner they encounter. However, this time it was different. I was wearing my hat, and a couple of the little girls were even bold enough to walk up to me and peak under the bill, just to get a better look at my face.

My first reaction was slightly annoyed, but polite as I smiled at them, which naturally startled them and they rushed back to protection of a parent or one of their friends. Eventually they worked up the courage to stand near me while playing their games (similar to patty-cake), and the even began to offer me parts of their snacks, some crackers and juice or water. I was surprised at this but kindly declined with my very poor and limited Chinese.

Nearing the end of the trip, they were to the point of singing the ABC song and some other songs in Chinese that they knew for my entertainment. Their timidness was completely gone. They were to the point of hanging on to me, feeling my arm hair (which doesn't exist in oriental ethnicity), and talking to me...in Chinese of course.

It was somewhat humorous, yet sad at the same time, because they kept talking to me, even though I couldn't reply. They just couldn't seem to grasp that I didn't speak Chinese. One girl even had this dumbfounded expression like, "I know you hear what I'm saying, why won't you just speak like any other normal person I know!" I had abandoned my hopless Chinese by this point and was just replying in English that I didn't understand. I wanted very badly to be able to speak to those little girls, find out their names, play games with them, and give them more than a couple of words they understood and some goofy expressions. It was frustrating for me. They were still very kind and happily said "bye bye" to me (more times than is necessary, but very typical of any child making a game of it) as we exited the train and parted ways outside of the station.

This is a long story, but it made me think about something important. How often are we like those little children to our Father? We start off shy and curious about Him. We then become more comfortable with Him, but we have difficulty communicating, because we don't speak His language. He continually shows His kindness to us, but there is only so much He can do until we start speaking His language. And we, who don't understand Him in our finite knowledge, can't always understand why He doesn't "just speak like any other normal person." The reason is simple. His language isn't English, or even Chinese, it's love. Until we start speaking that, we'll never understand Him or what He wants to tell us and share with us.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You make an excellent application with your story, o sagacious one. I would not consider your discourse logorrhea, but rather a discriptive story containing the elements necessary to bring the reader into your world.