Maybe It Doesn't Matter....

It Doesn’t Matter

I have tried in personal emails and in other posts to communicate the personality of the Chinese people I have met and the customs and attitudes that have been relayed to me through our experiences; however, I fear my words have fallen short of the great task to accurately portray a people and culture after only spending a short time with them. There is one thing, though, that has been consistent through all of my travels (in direct conversations, experiences, and in the general feel of a place). There is a saying “méiguānxì” (pronounced may-gwan-she), which basically means “it doesn’t matter.” And, oh, there are so many things that just don’t matter.


During our trip to Zhejiang Province, our host, Jameson, tickled us with his use of the phrase. We all donned our traffic-cone-orange hats, and Karen asked him if we looked nice in them. He looked at all of us silly Americans, snickered, and said, “It doesn’t matter.” I hope he doesn’t reply in the same manner when his wife asks if her jeans make her look fat. This was a favorite expression of his especially at dinner time. Whenever there was something funny looking on table, we would cautiously peer into the dish and hesitantly ask what was in it (always partially hoping he would just lie to us), and he would say, “Ah, I think it doesn’t matter.” But, with toxic fish, animal guts, and chicken feet often gracing the dinner table, it so mattered.


Our Saturday evening brought us face to face with a socially acceptable form of the phrase. The restaurants and shops were so crowded people began parking their cars in the middle of the street, thus the e-bikes and scooters took to using the already jammed sidewalks as their own personal travel lanes. Ordinarily the e-bikes and scooters share the available sidewalk space and it does not create a problem, but the large number of pedestrians forced us all into a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants tango in order to allow all the moving parties to pass unharmed. In any other situation this would have led to injuries and chaos (not to mention a large-scale panic attack for me), but here, in China, it not only worked but seemed like a reasonable and planned alternative. As I was clutching my bag and minding my toes and elbows, I began to think how absurd this all was. How can China possibly become a modern and developed country when they can’t keep order in their own streets? And then it happened. Just like drinking sweet iced tea during a hot Texas noon, “It doesn’t matter” washed over me and I immediately melted into the rhythm and flow of what is the China Way.



In that moment the cacophonous din of traffic, laughter, honking, yelling, open-air concerts, toddlers singing karaoke, and peddlers swirled around me. I stopped right where I was to look all around, and I could not believe that I was really in China. This amazing adventure is coming to a close, but in that moment I had to laugh out loud at the blessings I have been living. I am in China. I’ve been living and teaching in China. I’ve travelled and met new people. I’m living a dream. Gratitude and joy overwhelmed my pounding ears, watering eyes, and offended nose. I stood in the middle of what would normally be an incredibly irritating and obnoxious situation for my Type A personality, and soaked it all in. Instead of reaching for my Advil and seeking respite alone, I dove deeper into the crowds and became part of – even if only for a small moment –the people I’ve tried so desperately to understand.


Maybe

Maybe is an overused word by most Chinese who are learning English. Until yesterday, I assumed the translation was pretty close. The contexts I’ve noticed range from “perhaps” to “it is possible” to “I will look into it.” It is entirely possible the misunderstanding has been on my part because I learned that really it means, “I have no idea what you are saying but I think I will make something up so you think I know and I will cross my fingers that it all works out in the end.” And as a result, I had my first questionable travel trip as we ventured to the city of Suzhou.

We’ve been planning the day trip to Suzhou by talking to our translator and assistants about the place we wanted to go, the items we wanted to buy, and the sites we wanted to explore. We even saw a television program with the exact location and showed them pictures from someone who had previously travelled there. But, it turns out, we were never speaking the same language. We were requesting to visit a quiet and quaint district of Suzhou. When we heard, “maybe we go to Suzhou on Sunday,” we heard the “it is possible” translation. What they were saying was “maybe we will go to the place you want, or maybe not.” We got the maybe not.

We arrived at what we thought was going to be a traditional Chinese garden but turned out to be an orange grove. The guide recommended we take the hill trail to the lake. “Maybe five minutes,” she encouraged. 35 minutes later we arrived at a paved road, where in the distance we could see a lake. Our translator, host and assistants said we should keep going up the paved road for “maybe five minutes.” So we went. Ten minutes later I asked where we were going (just to clarifying the end goal of this five minute jaunt). “Maybe the top of the mountain,” they replied, which in this case meant there was no destination. We were hiking to nowhere. Without any water.

And then we get to Maybe-Suzhou. Since we were expecting the water district, built around canals and hailed as the Chinese Venice, we were a bit surprised to find ourselves in a concrete downtown lined with Papa John’s, TGI Friday, Mc Donald’s and KFC. Literally all of the flags on the flag poles were advertising some type of American product or food. We ate at an authentic Chinese fast food restaurant where we all took our best shot at ordering from the translated menu, which became a more daunting task as we all began to understand how “maybe” has been severely mistranslated between us and our caretakers. It all came to a climax during this conversation:

Robert (American teacher): What is this?


Janet (our translator): Maybe it is sweet.


Robert: Is it sweet?


Janet: Maybe. But maybe it is meat.


Robert: Is it meat? What kind of meat?


Janet: Maybe it is not meat.


Robert: What is this?


Janet: Maybe just try it.


Robert: Do you know what this is?


Janet: Maybe I do not. Just try it.


And so he did. It was neither sweet nor was it meat, but it was a fried bean curd pastry. And Janet says, “Oh yes. Maybe it is bean curd. It is not sweet.” At that point we knew we were never going to make it to the Venice of China.

But in the end, maybe it just doesn’t matter. I’ve had an experience of a lifetime and even this little misadventure only endears me more to the Chinese. I understand a little bit better that no matter the situation, I have the power to paint it. I can choose to focus on the negatives, or I can enrich my experience by seeking the humor, love, and beauty wherever I go and in whomever I meet. I would not trade any of my days or experiences, and even the misunderstandings and stomachaches have created stories I will cherish forever. Thank you, China, for this!

Suzhou pictures: http://s676.photobucket.com/albums/vv121/lshudgins/Suzhou/