01.18.07 Kate's Chinese Lessons

On my way to the hospital, the cab driver started chatting with me.

“Nice hat,” he said, “It suits you.”
“Thanks.” I scratched the back of my right ear…. A bit flattered.
“Where did you get it? It’s unique, like you.” I could tell that he was smiling from his eyes in the rearview mirror. He looked a bit creepy.
“At a night market.” I looked out the window to signal that I was losing interest in this conversation.
“What’s your sign?” he asked cheerfully, with a child-like innocence in his voice.
“Excuse me?”
“Your horoscope sign. What is it?”

Okay…. This is a bit weird. I glanced at the license and made an imprint of his name, which I have absolutely no clue what it was now, in my mind.

“Why do you want to know?” I challenged.
“I’d say you’re either Gemini or Libra.” He was very sure of himself and totally oblivion of my confusion.
I had to know why.
“You seem fun-loving. Hey, how old are you?”
Guess the questions are getting more and more personal.

“34.” I was honest. What happened to talking about my horoscope sign?
His eyes widened in the rearview mirror.
“30?”
“34.” I emphasized the 4, but realized these two numbers sound very similar in Chinese.
"thir.....ty?” he gestured with his right hand, making an “OK” sign. It took me a few seconds to realize the circle he made with his index finger and thumb was supposed to be the zero.
"You’re too kind,” I smiled, “I’m turning 35 this year.”
Looking almost defeated, he smacked his right hand back on the steering wheels in a very dramatic way. His eyebrows slowly narrowed into a knot, contemplating.
“Do you use Oil of Olay regularly?”
I couldn’t believe how he managed to look so dead serious as he said that.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Funnyman is in the house.

The questioning continued.
“Do you have children?” “No!”
“Are you married?” “No!”
He paused, gave me a quick doubtful look, “Then you MUST have a boyfriend.” It was almost comical how he said it in a frustrated “Oh! Come on!” kind of way.
“Why?” I teased.
“Yeah…” he sounded relieved. “A girl like you can't be completely single. Ah! I know. It must be that you’re too picky, right? Haven’t found the person you think you will be willing to spend the rest of your life with?”
I wasn’t in the mood to get into it. “What about you?” I turned the table.
“My oldest son is turning 16 this year. Guess how old I am.”
Uh-Oh! The game in on.

He looks older than me, but he can’t be that much older. Logically, he could be my age, but that would mean that he had his son when he was 18. Culturally, it’d be highly unlikely because Taiwan back then was still quite close-minded and sex was severely repressed, unless he grew up in the south of course. Okay, so by saying that he looks the same age as me, I might flatter him for being younger but imply that he’s an uneducated country folk at the same time! I gotta come up with an acceptable answer, QUICK!

“When in doubt, be as vague as you can.” My years of Chinese education paid off in the face of a potential social crisis!
“I’d say you’re probably in your 30’s, like me!”
He was visibly satisfied. “Phew!” I sank back into the backseat. He raised one eyebrow (and a corner of his mouth, I presumed) and proudly announced, “I was in Grade Five, Class Three! Now you know exactly how old I am.”
No, I don’t. What the hell is “Grade Five, Class Three”? Think, Kate. Think fast.

Grade Five, Class Three. That’s five and three. Fifty-three?! He can’t be that old.
Okay, what about 1953. That would make him……. 54! Impossible!
It’s gotta be ROC year 53 then, which would be 1964. That would make him…..43!

“Wow! You look much younger than 43.” I was sincere.
“I, too, use Oil of Olay ........ out-of-date ones.”
Strike two from Mr. Funnyman!

“Yeah… my son is at the age of ‘cool’, you know what I mean? He doesn’t like it that I drive the cab for 12 hours a day, but he doesn’t tell me either. He gives me the cold shoulder treatment. My wife, on the other hand, is very understanding. Sometimes when I get home late, she’d tell me that I don’t have to do homework. You know what THAT means, right?”
Huh? What? You lost me at homework. Wait! Why do you have to do homework, or do you have to do your son’s homework? It’s impossible that your son has to do your homework. What’s going on?

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t get it.” [yeahhh, ‘I wasn’t listening.’ is more like it]
He took a quick look at me, “I do homework and my wife marks my homework.” He gave me a second look from the mirror, “Now do you understand?”
I had to try hard not to laugh. Guess I have to brush up on my Chinese slang.

How interesting that the newly evolved Chinese slang has such a strong reference to school life. Well, it’s understandable ‘cause education is a way out or a way up. The significance and emphasis placed on education has not changed since the time of the Great Teacher, Confucius. How well people study, though, is another story.
What I find more interesting is women being in the role of “homework makers”, which implies women having authority over men in the bedroom. For a culture that has granted the male population dominance and superiority at birth for over 5,000 years, it’s revolutionary that the changes in gender roles have slipped into the use of language. Let’s just hope that it doesn’t stop at being a slightly off-color joke and that the empowerment of womanhood isn’t limited to behind the bedroom door only. That would be awfully wrong.