The Bus

I am trying to teach the boys Mandarin during our drives. Since we are in the van so often and since I am not having to focus on the driving and I am definitely trying NOT to focus on surviving the ride itself, I try to work on some elementary concept with the kids. Like colors. One day, we would point out things of different colors and name them in Mandarin. "Can you find something hong se?"

Mr. Song pays little attention to us. He probably silently shutters at my horrible butchering of his native tongue, so unless I say something directly to him, he focuses on the idiots behind the wheel. Mr. Song speaks NO English as far as I can tell other than "ok," "hello," and "bye bye." The conversations between the two of us are these over-gestured, dramatic affairs with both of us furiously typing into our phone's translation programs. If we are driving, I always feel like I am gesturing "turn right" with the emphasis of one on the verge of an epileptic fit.

But as we were stuck in traffic the other day and there was a huge green bus in front of us. Hudson asks, "How do you say bus?" And I quickly flip through my foldout language card (thanks, Gordon) and find the right terminology and say, "gong gong chee chin" which I am AWARE was a pretty bad translation of the pinyin "gong-gong qi-che zhan" I should have said.

Now, whenever I do talk in Mandarin I always give Mr. Song the side-eye to see if he reacts with a shudder or a grin to what I am saying. And just like all the times before, the man did not flinch. So I said it again, this time trying to correct both my pronunciation and the tones, "goong going chee chey tsan." And again, Mr. Song does not react.

Pretty sure I need some help with this, I point to the bus and say, "Na shi shenma?"(What is it?)

Mr. Song looks at me, points to the huge diesel vehicle, looks back at me and says, "Busssssss."