Like a Chicken talking to a Duck

That’s how my grandmother describes our interactions, as I was told by my translating father through skype. She’s not wrong, of course.

But something has happened to better our interactions. I had hoped, of course, to learn to communicate with my grandmother. One of my goals for learning Chinese while in China was to be able to bridge that gab between us. When I realized that she speaks only Cantonese, and therefore wouldn’t have understood me had I learned Mandarin, my ever-wavering interest all but evaporated. (Not to mention watching the struggles of my friends who had been formally studying the language for years.)

There was no shortage of teasing (read: encouragement) from my family about my lack of language, which, after nearly 6 months includes only the numbers and these phrases: “thank you”, “check”, “this” ”how much?” and “I want a beer.” I don’t think the last lane, while my only real sentence, would have greatly improved my communication with Grandma.

That’s why I was so surprised when, after a skype session with my sister, she noted my ability to understand Grandma this time around. The difference, I now realize, is not built on my increased language but my surely sharpened skills in mime and what I’ll call “situation intuition.” If I have practiced anything for the past half-year, it’s the ability to communicate without language, and to understand what is being asked of me without words.

For example, while I was skyping with rah* and the kids, Grandma looked at me, pointed to the screen and asked a string of things that included, “Siew Mun?” I realized that she must be looking for my father (Siew Mun). I then did my best to explain, “Sarah, Virginia) finger pointing low. “Siew Mun, Massachusetts” other finger up high. This may seem like a small feat, but it’s something that I may have passed over in my previous trip.

My favorite interactions with Grandma, however, are those with no words at all. I loved how she brought out the card and Buddha pendant that I had given to her and showed it to the family. She insisted on sitting next to me at dinners, even when other tried to put my Uncle Siew Seng in between us. She told my father that every morning at 5 am she made two coffees, one for me and one for her, but I slept so late (until 8) that she always drank them both. She fussed over Kelly and I, bringing us more pound cake, milo (chocolate drink), and coffee than we thought we could consume. She did our laundry, and hung it in the yard to dry, folding it neatly before giving it back to us. When we were out late with cousins, she asked uncle on the hour, “They’re out so late. Why are they not back yet?” And when we left, I took a picture with her, sitting next to her on a chair so that I would not have to disrespect her by leaning down so far. She laid her arm on mine and pressed down. Later, as I was leaving, she had uncle ask me to send her the picture.

I love the idea of us both having that picture, her in Malaysia, and me wherever it is that I currently am.