It doesn’t take a scholar in translation studies to know the frustrations of translation. If you’ve studied a language for even the shortest amount of time, you know the culprits that often make the exercise especially difficult: syntax, conjugations, pronouns, tenses, spelling, etc. And that’s after you’ve learned a slew of new words. For European languages, these issues are generally minor headaches, though there are exceptions. Not so much with Chinese, with each word having its own character. Sentence structures differ vastly: what is often considered an independent clause in Chinese is a fragment in English. The syntax can also be a chore. For example, points of time and places usually come before or immediately after the subject (for example, a Chinese sentence translated literally might read, “I yesterday at home ate food.”), and unlike with English, there is very little syntactical flexibility. This might seem like a minor point, but when you’re first learning the language and going from English to Chinese in your head, you might construct a somewhat complex sentence only to get to the end of it and realize the place that would finish up an English sentence should have come all the way at the beginning.*
As with all languages, what passes for polite and rude also poses a translation challenge.** Those who know French, for instance, are aware that the distinction between tu and vous, while often a matter of singular/plural, can also be one of showing respect to a superior or unfamiliar person. However, French manners do not vary greatly from American ones. Not so much for Chinese manners. Chinese culture, for instance, tends to value indirectness. There are exceptions. For instance, you can tell someone that they are a little fat. However, you should not say “no.” In fact, there is no single word for “no” in the language.
As a result of this indirectness, it can be difficult to parse whether some words are being used literally or politely. One of these words is “maybe.” It is generally rude to begin to appear to tell a friend or acquaintance what they should do, so suggestions will often be preceded with “maybe”: “Maybe we should go have dinner.” “Maybe you can come to my house sometime.” “Maybe you should use ‘maybe’ when offering a suggestion.” I’ve witnessed even bosses using this with those they are in charge of.
The word’s dual purpose, however, posed a communication problem for me last week. Spring Festival is approaching. Combine Christmas with New Year’s Eve, and you probably still come up short in terms of significance to the culture. Like Americans during the holidays, Chinese people return home, and because students at all levels have about a two-month break at this time, travel can be complicated. Buying train tickets early becomes a necessity. However, there is no way to know when tickets will become available except that it will be about 5-15 days before the date of travel.
Because of this situation, I took a bus downtown and walked down the busiest street in the city, enduring the stares and comically long and loud “hellos,” to pick up a couple tickets for an approaching trip. After waiting in line for 40 minutes (actually a short wait at this time of year), I reached the ticket window and struggled through my order in Chinese while the nervous young woman listened to me, probably the first foreigner she’d ever seen, and most of those in line stared to see how this transaction would go. The girl nervously giggled when she realized I knew enough Chinese to get through this situation, but when she heard the date I was asking for, she told me they were not for sale yet. “Tomorrow,” she said, “maybe we will have them.” I wasn’t sure if this was the I-don’t-know-for-sure “maybe” or the we-will-have-them-but-culturally-I’m-not-allowed-to-tell-you-what-to-do “maybe.” I was all but certain, however, that asking her to explain which “maybe” she was using was not culturally appropriate, so I walked away thinking maybe I would just return the next day.
*There are, however, some aspects of Chinese that are easy to master. For instance, while first, second, and third person pronouns exist, they are the same whether they are subjective, objective, or possessive. Also, verbs are not conjugated. Counter-intuitively, however, the paucity of tenses in Chinese doesn’t make the language easier, just difficult in a different way. It took my brain a month or two to adjust to the fact that having three adverbs in a sentence was not only justifiable but appropriate.
**As Slavoj Zizek asks in Living in the End Times, “Are not all good manners based on the fact that ‘what is said is not what is meant’?”
