September 10th, 2007
I just had a confusing time with the Ayi. Last week, I asked if there was a market in town where I could buy western food so I could make fettuccine Alfredo for the kids one night. They assured me there was and this morning I was supposed to go out with Ayi to find the supplies. The day started out with a few bumps. When we were walking out the main doors of this building, the Ayi started to unlock a bicycle. “Oh no.” I thought. “She wants me to ride on the back of that thing and it's not going to work out. Maybe she just needs to put it somewhere else. Maybe the store is far and she wants to ride the bike to a bus.” Ayi is very short and so is the bike. Lowe and behold, she puts the bike down on the cobblestone road of the complex and beckons me to get on the back. I know this isn't going to work, but I try anyway. I sit on the back, side saddle and try to find somewhere to put my feet, but there's nowhere to put them! I try putting them on the shaft that comes out of the middle of the tire, but that's part of the turning crank and she can't peddle. So I put my legs out, trying to hover them over the ground, but because my legs are so long, I have to hold them straight flat out in the air and I don't see this working at all. Meanwhile Ayi is having a terrible time just trying to keep the bike up. She gets off and offers the front seat, but I protest. I don't know where we're going and I honestly don't feel comfortable riding a bike with someone sitting side saddle on the back. I've always thought this was a strange thing to do and have been amazed when I see two or three people sitting on the back of a bicycle, sometimes with a small baby wedged between. I tried to say “why don't we just take a bus”, but looking back, I think I said subway, and there isn't one around, so I'm sure she was confused.
Eventually she gave up and returned the bike to it's place and had me wait with her friends for her to return. Her friends started out by trying to talk to me in Cantonese. “Putonghua” I said. It's not a full sentence, by any stretch, but I find it usually works out better than saying “Qing yong/shuo putonghua.” partly because I think my grammar is wrong. Amazingly enough, they really did use mandarin, and proceeded to ask me the usual questions. “You're going shopping for food with her?” “Yes, we're buying American food.” “Buying American food! Ai ya!” They asked me where I come from and why I'm here now, and I told them I'm American and am teaching English “over there”. I'd tell them I'm teaching Mr. Ma's daughter, but I can't remember how to say “Mr”. Then my Chinese quickly ran out when they inevitably used a few words I didn't know and they gave up on me. I'm not good at the j/zh/z sounds. There are many words I don't know that use these sounds, and some I do, but when they use a few words with these sounds together, it just sounds like noise to my ears and try as I might, I don't understand. Zhe jhe zi zhe. What I just said doesn't' mean anything I don't think, but that's what it sounds like.
They turned around and walked away, two older women with a small curious but shy boy, shaking their heads at the guimei who doesn't know how to speak.
Ayi returned soon after that and asked if they talked to me and if I understood what they said. “Ting dong” Which pretty much means “I understand what I heard.”, though I didn't know how to say I didn't understand the last thing they said.
On the walk, I asked her if she was sure the market had American food, and she said it's all the same. I know it's not, but I walked with her anyway, because I don't know how to argue the point. Instead I talked a little about what I wanted to buy, but she kept shaking her head, saying “Kan kan.” Which is simple speak for “just look”. I was afraid she was bringing me to the normal outdoor market which I knew wouldn't have what I was looking for. Usually I will shop in these markets for weekly groceries as it's cheap and they have everything you need for the usual chow mein and such. I knew the street once we got onto it and I told her I didn't think they'd have what I need. She said “Yiyang.” The same. “Tamen yo yiyangng.” “They have the same stuff.”
I wasn't going to convince her. I kept hoping we'd take a turn and somehow make it to a grocery store but in no time I was staring down fish heads and buckets of frogs at the local market and it was time for me to speak up. “Wo zhidao wo bu keyi mai meiguo cai zheli. Tamen mayo shenme wo xuyao mai.”
“I know I can't buy American food here. They don't have what I need to buy.” She wanted me to have look anyway, but I shook my head. I knew what the market had, and I explained. “Wo xuyao mai nailao, jirou xiongpu, he meiguo de miantiao.” “I need to buy cheese, chicken breast and American noodles.” She pointed at the noodles. “Bu shi. Meiguo miantia.” “No, American noodles.” She tried to argue that the bakery had cheese, which I knew they didn't. She didn't know where to buy what I needed because she herself never needed to buy it. I've gone on the quest to make western food and it's not easy in China, you have to look around and know where to go and accept that it's not going to be in the cheap markets.
She tried to drag me to the bakery to show me but I protested. I was looking at waisting the whole morning with her, trying to explain that it wasn't going to work. “Shiyidian wo gai nide nuerzi dian hua he wen ta ban wo.” “Later I will call your daughter and ask her to help me.” Ayi asked if we could go shopping tonight. “Bu shi. Wo chu maidongxi zhege Xiawu. Ni bu xuyao geng wo ichi lai.” No, I'll go shopping in the afternoon. You don't have to come with me.” “Bu pa.” “Don't worry.” Eventually she accepted but freaked out again when I started to go back to the apartment, insisting that I wait for her to finish shopping so she could show me the way home. “Bu pa. Wo zhidao zenme yong hui lai.” Don't worry. I know how to come back.” I wasn't sure if I could say “go back” with the correct grammar and hoped she'd understand. As with many things in Chinese, I had to say it three different ways three different times for her to finally agree to let me go.
I'm a little uncomfortable and worried now. This morning I've succeeded in doing everything foreign. I couldn't ride on the bicycle with her and I couldn't shop at the local market with her, and instead insisted on finding a more expensive place to shop. I don't know how to explain it to her. Usually, I would shop at the market too, but you just can't do that if you're making western food, and I was hoping I could use the opportunity to talk about western food with the girls, and maybe get them involved.
I'm tired now and I think I have class soon. Ayi took away the bed mats I was using to make my bed comfortable so I was tossing and turning all night. Without extra comforters, Chinese beds are hard as rocks. I kept waking up every hour on the hour, and when I finally got out of bed, the sheets and pillows were thrown around everywhere. When I was here the first time, I woke up having not disturbed the bed at all. I told the Ayi I couldn't sleep because I wasn't comfortable which gives her one more guiemei point for the day. Chinese beds are all hard and most people don't complain about it. They say it's healthy because there is no choice, but they also sell mats at all the stores, so I can't feel like such an odd man out. Everyone knows they're uncomfortable.
Andy brought up the fact that I often call her Ayi or the Ayi and asked if it was rude. I explained that Ayi means maid, cook and nanny and was usually used as a term of endearment and that I never heard a negative thing about it. I've always liked the name because it seems to have a much more positive connotation then our “maid”. I don't know her real name because she hasn't told me. She tells me to call her ayi, which is what every Ayi tells me to do, so I don't think it's rude at all, but I could be missing out on some fatal information here. Maybe I'll just nag her until she tells me her name, though I think she likes being called ayi.
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