The Importance of Good Diction

One of the running jokes that Zheng and I have is how we are "heard" or understood. 

I really love making Mandarin speakers laugh when I make feeble attempts at what is perhaps the most difficult language in the world. I've already mixed up the words for "pig," "God," and "wine," though making puns in Mandarin about "God being a pig if he drinks too much wine" are still underappreciated by my Mandarin-speaking friends. I've also thoroughly embarrassed myself in Mandarin many times - quite a feat when you know less than 200 words.

(Perhaps because it's only funny to me - or they haven't gotten my sense of humor yet.)

And for the record, the sounds and tonal patterns for the aforementioned words are far too close for comfort. 

Zheng has an equally hard time (sometimes) being understood by Americans. When we moved across the country last year, at first, we hit some cosmopolitan areas. Rochester (for as much as I hated the weather) was quite international for a city of its size. I suppose the amount of university students and trained professionals in that city don't hurt this. Cleveland, Columbus, and Cincinnati were also no problem.

However, once we left Pennsylvania Ohio and headed into states which boast fundamentalism, fried food, and moonshine, my beloved husband had to work very hard to be understood. 

I think he scared a KFC employee half to death when he asked which flavor was "local." They didn't know how to answer. So I had to laugh to myself about the confluence of a) employees of a national chain and b) the fact that some of these people have probably never ever seen an Asian. 

The climax of the confluence of foreign accents and "local flavor" happened somewhere between Kentucky and Oklahoma. My husband was ordering his favorite "starter" drink, which is "ice water with lime." After a panicked look passed the waitress's face, she turned to me and asked,

"What?"

Which really in dialect, sounded like "WhaAAAAAUUUUUUUHHHHHHT"?

The *next* question continues to be one of our favorite running jokes. As if my husband would have "really" ordered what the waitress thought he had ... 

 

 

PHOTO: This exemplifies an experience which still makes us laugh, and something that raises the eyebrows of many guests in our home. 

Whatever. It's our house. 

It's also a very fun reminder to my students about how much diction (and diphthongs, consonants, and the dismount of one vowel to the other) actually do matter in life.

Packing up, and moving on

"About noon the following day, as they were on their journey and approaching the city, Peter went up on the roof to pray." (Acts: 10:9)

I have grown so much during my doctorate regarding faith. This had a great deal to do with my summer "home" in Hungary - but I still am reminded, in some way, of how human I am, how erred, how not perfect. For someone who holds herself, and to some degree, others, to a high standard, this is a bitter herb to swallow.

I think by praying regularly as we pack up our home, it will be important for me to remember our time here with gratitude and incredible fondness. Many times I have left a place as a slightly better version of myself, with daliances with a worse version of myself somewhere along the way. 

I remember that when I moved into this apartment, I said, "I want to leave here with a doctorate, married, a job, and someone else paying for the move." All of those things are happening (I joke that I should have asked for student loans and world hunger to be eradicated as well!).

Despite these positives, it is hard to leave. We had a wonderful gathering of friends on Monday, and have been regularly saying goodbye for the past few weeks. We plan to stay in touch, in a "real" way, not just "posting things on Facebook." 

Also, as things get cleared away and into boxes, it is a reminder of how much happier I am without clutter. There is clutter ensuing everywhere, but it is over the "dip." I need to retain this discipline that I do not want more clutter in our new place.

I need to pray regularly, without ceasing, that everything goes okay. The transit, the upcoming recording session, the marriage interview, and then our drive across the United States. So much happening now, and in the next three weeks. 

"Have you never questioned those who travel? Have you never paid regard to their accounts?" (Job: 21-29).