It’s been a year since I have seen Bro P and Bro D. But it is during the annual 9 Emperor festival that all of us actually take time out of our extremely busy schedules to congregate in Penang for about 10 days. 12 in my case because I needed a day to travel each way.
The congregation is mainly made up of Mandarin speakers with knowledge of reading and writing Chinese. Now, being a girl from a Kebangsaan school, learning Chinese was not really, how should I put it, necessary. (Well, I am singing a different tune now obviously)
Anyways, over dinner, we were discussing the matter of youths today not knowing their mother tongue. If that was not bad enough, some youths practically spoke Manglish or the market version of our national language. Talk about being a master of none.
Bro D recalls his encounter with a South African visitor he had that spoke to him in Mandarin. A language that he too did not pick up.
Now, this untactful visitor obviously did not understand the Chinese culture of saving face despite speaking fluent Mandarin, said, “You are Chinese but can’t speak it?”
To that, Bro D claimed it was shameful and that I should be ashamed to for being a Banana. Now for those who do not know this term, let me educate you. Banana is a term used to describe a Chinese who can’t speak Chinese. You know, yellow on the outside but white on the inside.
Saying that I should be ashamed was the final straw. I am not sure if I was being overly sensitive but I have been trying not to use negative adjectives in my conversations especially when I am conducting my training sessions.
The debate began with me, in a firm voice stating, “No, I am not ashamed. Why should I be?”
“Cause you are a Chinese.”
“I speak about 5 languages and dialects. Not fluent at all but at least…”
“That’s not my point. It is shameful that we do not know proper Mandarin.”
“Well, I refuse to use the word shame.”
“Then?”
“I will see it as an opportunity to learn to appreciate my own culture. If a foreigner can take the effort to learn our language, why can’t we?”
“I still think it is a shame.”
Now, before I can interject any further, Bro P decided to interrupt the conversation.
“Well, D, her background is in training. Different people use word differently; shame to you carries a different definition than it does for her.”
After that, I just went about my duties in the kitchen area, leaving the two men behind to continue further banters of politics and what nots.
This little conversation happened over a week ago. Yet it still bugs me until today. The positive thing that came out of it was my realization of how one word can change a person’s outlook in life. Now it has become more apparent and clearer to me the fact that my mentor once asked me to only speak with purpose and be mindful of the words that come out of our mouths. The tongue can be mightier than the sword or pen put together. I never quite understood it when she first told me that before. But I guess, with more experience we gain clearer distinctions on how to live our lives to the fullest and filled with purpose.
