Comfort

Before going home for spring break, I had spoken to my mother about school, progress with my classes, and what I was hoping to do over break. Eventually the conversation made its way over to the subject of my Chinese classes. Of course, my mother had to give me a repeat story-telling session about her Mandarin classes growing up, and the supplemental classes she took in the states after she immigrated. I've heard this story many times...from the amount of time she'd devote to practicing characters, to her Taiwanese professors in Vietnam, to her distaste for the Beijing accent...been there, heard that. Still, I let her go on. As tiresome as it sometimes gets to hear the same story over and over, I find some sense of comfort in her repeats. I guess it's not only the familiarity, but also the relational quality. We both shared some of the same struggles, especially with the interjection of Cantonese tones and pronunciation when using Mandarin. In that sense, it's helpful to touch base with my mother on my Chinese progress and struggles...her experiences are definitely valuable to my growth. Finally, at the end of the conversation, she suggested we speak mandarin when I arrive back in Portland...we'll see...