II

Language is the first and most noticeable thing about being foreign. At least from the inside looking out. I am illiterate in China, and I have a little knowledge of the spoken language. Over the summer I took a Chinese 101 class but it was on-line and also, I didn't finish it, opting to marshal my resources towards more pressing academic obligations, packing, and trying to catch my breath before coming here. A week into the semester I started taking Chinese courses in my department, the Language and Culture Center, and I meet with one of our Chinese teachers once a week for an hour. Additionally I meet with the intern in our department for three hours a week for additional tutoring, mostly practice and pronunciation. It's a good amount of direct attention I believe, and though I haven't learned much, or then again maybe I've learned a lot. I don't know. I've learned some, and can form simple sentences and answer simple questions.The other day in the elevator a neighbor, I think, asked me where I was from and I answered him. It was the first successful bit of communication in Chinese that didn't involve the exchange of money.

Today I traveled to Suzhou to look for a new bike. Using a mapping program, it was pretty easy to find the right bus. I got on the C1 and rode it for about fifty minutes, where I then transferred to the green subway line, rode it for about five stops, and then got out and walked, following the directions on the map. The software is exactly like google maps. I push the button that looks like a bus, and the map pops up, showing me my different public transportation options. I choose one then I get a list of step-by-step instructions.

I don't need to know the rest of the characters on the map, or at least it seems like I don't. Instead I'm riding the bus, looking out the window at the lake to the north; watching the old man fall asleep in the seat in front of me. Across the aisle there is a little girl sitting in her father's lap, and she squirms for a while before she too falls asleep.

In Suzhou, when I got to where the lines had lead me, I discovered that the bike store I was trying to find was located in a shopping mall. Further, I found that it wasn't a bike store at all, but a cluster of high-end apparel stores that for some reason had about five bikes in glass cases. I double checked the rest of the stores and the mall directory, looking for a hidden bike retailer, and eventually asked the security guard in my simple Chinese where the bike store was. He led me back to the cluster of five bikes. I thanked him, and then left. All said, the trip was not a total loss. I found my way to Suzhou on my own, and was able to navigate both the inter-city bus and the Suzhou subway system. On my way back to Kunshan I thought about what my boss told me, that when I plan to do something in China I should plan on two trips: the first to find out how to do what I need to do, and the second to do it. Tonight when writing this story, I started to write about language but ended up inside my experience. To find out how to do what I need to do, and then to do it.