SPEAKING THE LANGUAGE

Uh-h, Uh-uh
Mmm-hmmm, Mmm-mmmm
Djeet? Yeah, djoo?
Mama told me how hard English was
for her to understand
when she first came to America.
The formal English
she'd learned from her textbooks
was so different from the way Americans spoke.
She'd learned yes and no.
Have you eaten your dinner yet?
and Yes, thank you. And yourself?
**********
But the words she heard instead
wee hard to grasp, slippery
as so many small fish
darting here and thee,
shining slips of color
with movements so quick,
impossible to catch.
Try as you might to follow one fish,
confusing your eye
so the first is lost
somewhere among
the whole, swirling group-
here for a moment
then swimming away
into the wide ocean
and gone.

Shi de, bu shi.
Ni chi le fan mei you? Wo chi le, ni ne?
I practice saying to myself,
Yes, no.
Have you eaten yet? Yes, how about you?

In my mind, the words slip easily,

casually from my tongue.

I hear the way

even the youngest children

unthinkingly toss out

these simple phrases,

the sounds and tones rolling lazily,

the unconscious music

of everyday Chinese

sung out through

the streets of Taipei.

Mama and Baba say

I used to speak beautiful Chinese,

my accent clear

and the ones perfect.

But then when I started kindergarten,

I remember how the other kids laughed

at the way I couldn't understand

any English at all.

Mama says it wasn't long

before I spoke English

exactly like my classmates.

But she said I reused

to speak Chinese anymore.

Even at home

with just Baba and Mama

and no one else to hear,

they spoke Chinese to me

and I answered them

in English.

**********

Now when I open my mouth

to speak Chinese

the words stumble out,

dissonant and harsh

as a series of misplayed notes.

Like a beginning musician

violating all rules

I go back and try to correct,

inevitably hitting

the same wrong notes again.

By then the easy rhythm,

the back-and forth flow

of conversation is gone,

irretrivably lost,

broken by me and my

tone-deaf, tuneless,

off-key imitation

of Chinese

I'm getting used to

the look on people's aces

when I try to speak with them.

Surprise, then confusion

turning to befuddlement

or plain curiosity

as they ask, Xiao Jie,

Ni shi na li ren?

Where are you from. Miss?

**********

Now I wonder:

How many times

must Mama have heard

this question,

Where are you from. dear?

And did they ever ask,

Are you Chi-nese, Japa-nese

or what?