Bus, gōnggòng qìchē. (Sounds like: goong-goong-cheetz-uh.)
Unlike bird, which is the short-and-sweet nyoh, bus gets replaced with a mouthful — goong-goong-cheetz-uh — knocking it from the list of words I expect to be among my daughter’s firsts, despite the fact that she points out every one she sees. Did I mention there’s a bus stop outside our front door?
If I had a dollar for every goong-goong-cheetz-uh we greet and wave away from behind our opaque first-floor windows, it would begin to seem possible that I might pay off my student loans in time for my 1-year-old to start college.
But I digress.
I’m learning Mandarin alongside Emmy in a completely conversational way. Basically, Rich introduces a new word when we come across it, and then I try keeping it inside my little grab bag of words. They slip out with extraordinary ease.
Last night we bought a Christmas tree and brought up the boxes of ornaments, and so when Emmy entered the living room this morning there was not only a decorated Christmas tree but a a jingle bell on the front door handle. Amazingly, she was much more interested in banging and ringing the bell than she was in investigating the tree. (Are trees passé, since she sees them in the park?) When Rich woke up, we learned that bell is liing — think ling, with a little roller-coaster dip in the middle. By the time we pack the ornaments back up, God help me if liing isn’t securely in the bag. (Pun not intended, but why not.)
I’ve been thinking about the other languages I’ve tried to learn from “conversational” lessons. An Italian tape taught me to greet friends and ask the price of a yellow skirt in the window. And thanks to a French tape I used to listen to while sitting in Los Angeles traffic, my brain has retained, all these years later, just please, thank-you, elevator and “The lamp is broken.” La lampe est cassée.
Maybe if I were learning Mandarin on my own I’d be able to say, “Waiter, the check, please.” But since I’m learning it alongside a 1-year-old, the Mandarin in my odd little grab bag instead consists of:
How are you?It’s time to eat!Would you like to drink water?Monkey.Frog.Bird.Cow.What does the ___ say?AppleBlueberryStrawberryWash hands.BusAirplaneBallTreeBookDogCatHairHeadLegsFeetToesHandsFingersNoseEarsBellyButtWhere is it?There it is!SocksShoesWhere did it go?Don’t eat that!DIrty!Come here.Take a bath.Wait.Be careful.Sweet little treasure.I love you.

Bus, gōnggòng qìchē. (Sounds like: goong-goong-cheetz-uh.)

Unlike bird, which is the short-and-sweet nyoh, bus gets replaced with a mouthful — goong-goong-cheetz-uh — knocking it from the list of words I expect to be among my daughter’s firsts, despite the fact that she points out every one she sees. Did I mention there’s a bus stop outside our front door?

If I had a dollar for every goong-goong-cheetz-uh we greet and wave away from behind our opaque first-floor windows, it would begin to seem possible that I might pay off my student loans in time for my 1-year-old to start college.

But I digress.

I’m learning Mandarin alongside Emmy in a completely conversational way. Basically, Rich introduces a new word when we come across it, and then I try keeping it inside my little grab bag of words. They slip out with extraordinary ease.

Last night we bought a Christmas tree and brought up the boxes of ornaments, and so when Emmy entered the living room this morning there was not only a decorated Christmas tree but a a jingle bell on the front door handle. Amazingly, she was much more interested in banging and ringing the bell than she was in investigating the tree. (Are trees passé, since she sees them in the park?) When Rich woke up, we learned that bell is liing — think ling, with a little roller-coaster dip in the middle. By the time we pack the ornaments back up, God help me if liing isn’t securely in the bag. (Pun not intended, but why not.)

I’ve been thinking about the other languages I’ve tried to learn from “conversational” lessons. An Italian tape taught me to greet friends and ask the price of a yellow skirt in the window. And thanks to a French tape I used to listen to while sitting in Los Angeles traffic, my brain has retained, all these years later, just please, thank-you, elevator and “The lamp is broken.” La lampe est cassée.

Maybe if I were learning Mandarin on my own I’d be able to say, “Waiter, the check, please.” But since I’m learning it alongside a 1-year-old, the Mandarin in my odd little grab bag instead consists of:

How are you?
It’s time to eat!
Would you like to drink water?
Monkey.
Frog.
Bird.
Cow.
What does the ___ say?
Apple
Blueberry
Strawberry
Wash hands.
Bus
Airplane
Ball
Tree
Book
Dog
Cat
Hair
Head
Legs
Feet
Toes
Hands
Fingers
Nose
Ears
Belly
Butt
Where is it?
There it is!
Socks
Shoes
Where did it go?
Don’t eat that!
DIrty!
Come here.
Take a bath.
Wait.
Be careful.
Sweet little treasure.
I love you.