Intercultural Teaching Experience Moment: ‘Do you understand?’

Join me on a musical and cultural adventure with the Chinese Whispers project, where I teach Mandarin Chinese through singing. Discover the intersection of music and language education, as well as insights on personal and professional growth. Let's explore together!

PROFESSIONAL GROWTH

5/8/20245 min read

woman standing between library book shelves
woman standing between library book shelves

It was completely silent in the University Chapel. No choir member answered my question. ‘Do you understand?’ I asked again. Still, silence. I felt slightly embarrassed, but I could not tell exactly what I had done wrong. […] It was my first rehearsal as a Chinese Whispers teacher, and it involved teaching a Mandarin song to students singing in the choir for a concert. The song we were rehearsing was called ‘Hui Niang Jia’ (回娘家), which is a Chinese folk song. It describes the hilarious scene of a married girl walking down a country road as she returns to visit her parental home with a live duck and chicken in both hands and a baby on her back. As the woman gets halfway down the road, it starts to rain and she falls down on the road. The chicken and the duck fly away; the baby starts crying and her makeup gets messed up because of the pouring rain. She sighs: ‘How can I meet my parents like this?!’

I told the choir members about the cultural background of the song; I even tried to perform the scene’s actions, just to make sure that they understood the Chinese custom of a newly married woman returning to their parents’ home after getting married. I tried to explain this convention to them and asked them if I had explained it clearly. But nobody answered me, and nobody showed any reaction to the storytelling in their facial expressions at all.

It was supposed to be a funny, hilarious story! They are supposed to be laughing! Why are the students being so quiet? Is it because they don’t like the song? Or do they still not understand what the song is about? Or , is the song’s pitch too high? Is it because they don’t like me? Do I look ridiculous in their eyes? Thousands of doubts crossed my mind at the same time. The session ended up with us singing the song together two times. I noticed that the choir members definitely enjoyed singing the song; they even laughed during one section as a student mimicked the voice of the woman from the scene.

After the rehearsal, a Chinese Master’s student who studies composition at the University came to talk to me. I asked him, ‘Do you think it was a good rehearsal?’

'yes, it was nice’, he replied.The only thing is the way you talk.’

‘The way I talk? Why? What do you mean by the way I talk?’ I was eager to know what he was talking about.

‘When you ask them,Do you understand?’, they may think it is rude.’

‘Rude? Let me check what rude means first. I have never heard that word before. And what’s wrong with asking them if they understand or not? I just want to make sure that they understand the culture and understand what I said.’

I checked my phone and saw the translation ofrude’. I was shocked. It meantoffensive, impolite, or bad-mannered’ [phone dictionary].Okay, tell me why this is rude.’

‘Because English people don’t speak like that.’

‘How do they speak?’

‘They usually say,You know what I mean?’ or,Did I make myself clear?’ orDoes it make sense?’’

‘This is not how I learned English back to school. I can’t believe we have learned the wrong English! Well, I can’t say it’s wrong, but compared with how English people use English, the way I speak is certainly not nice, and I certainly don’t want them to think I’m rude.’

“You sit there!”

At the weekend, I invited some other friends to come to my place and try some Chinese food. Chinese food is like a hook: I am a good cook and I enjoy cooking a lot. Three friends came on time together, opened a beer and we started chatting. They stood in my small student accommodation kitchen and kept talking to me whilst I was cooking. I felt a bit distracted from cooking in the small space.

“You sit there,” I said to my friends. They had been standing all the time since they came into my place.

“Why are you angry with me?” one of my friends asked me with a confused face. “What? I am not angry with you! Why do you think I am angry with you?”

“You said ‘You sit there’, and I thought you were angry.”

“I don’t understand. I want you to relax, sit on the couch, and enjoy the beer. It’s all for you my dear friend. Why do you think I am angry with you?”

“Oh, okay…”

To me, I am welcoming them, and I just want to take care of the dinner. I want my friends to relax and enjoy the Chinese food. To my friends, the way I talk is angry, maybe like I am talking to a child who is being told off. Oh no! There is something wrong with my English: I know the words, but I am communicating them in the wrong way, or in a way that is meaning something quite different to what I had intended.

These two moments shed light on the challenges I faced in the first phase of my journey as an intercultural teacher due to language barriers in my teaching experiences and personal life. According to Ellis (2005), my struggle did not solely lie in language proficiency but rather in intercultural competence. Despite being able to speak English, I found it difficult to communicate in a socially acceptable manner. I never considered myself rude, but the feedback from choir members and friends indicated that my communication style was perceived as offensive. The complexity of this situation arises from the fact that one remains unaware of their mistakes until they receive a reaction from others. In retrospect, I realized that although I possessed English language skills, I lacked effective communication skills with native English speakers.

Looking back, I recalled that all my English teachers, from primary school to college, were native Chinese speakers. My first encounter with an English teacher from a different background occurred during a training programme organized by the Confucius Institute in Beijing, which prepared teachers to teach Chinese in various countries. However, a six-week intensive training program proved insufficient. Additional instances during my initial arrival in the UK further highlighted the disparities in communication. For example, when I saw my friend speaking on the phone, they would say, “Can I speak to XXX?” whereas I had learned to say, “I want to speak to XXX.” Similarly, while ordering food, my friend would say, “Can I have XXX? Please!” whereas I would simply say, “I want XXX, thanks.” My language usage did not always align with the expected norms in native English-speaking environments. This underscores the importance of having native language teachers. Perhaps the learning and teaching resources available are outdated or predominantly created by non-native teachers, thereby failing to adequately prepare native students and teachers for effective communication. Ellis (2005) offers two distinct definitions of second language learning: semantic meaning, which pertains to lexical items and grammatical structures, and pragmatic meaning, which encompasses contextualized meaning that emerges during communication. Ellis argues that effective communication occurs when both forms of meaning are understood. Despite my initial lack of awareness regarding the pragmatic meaning of the English language, I firmly believe in my excellent Chinese cooking skills, which served as my soft power in navigating the language-cultural barrier.

In sum, these moments highlight the significant challenges posed by the language-cultural barrier I encountered while teaching. The insights from Ellis’s research emphasize the importance of both semantic and pragmatic meanings in effective communication. Additionally, my personal experience underscores the need for native language teachers and updated teaching resources to ensure that students and teachers can communicate successfully. By acknowledging the limitations of my intercultural competence, I was able to recognize the value of my culinary skills as a means of bridging cultural gaps.