Sooner or Latte, Shanghai

It took exactly eight school days before I left the familiar comforts of a Western chain and ventured into the real Shanghai for lunch. I was finally armed with the ability to construct basic Mandarin sentences and questions.

Perhaps most importantly, as I learned on a recent lunch outing with classmates, I was also daring enough to speak those sentences.

Before the day I mustered the confidence to question a Chinese waitress about the whereabouts of my classmate’s meal, I was spending my lunches at a Starbucks near school, ordering lattes instead of Americanos because I couldn’t remember how to say milk in Mandarin, and always paired with a grilled chicken and egg salad croissant sandwich. My classmates, two Germans and an Ecuadorean, typically did their own thing.

The most Mandarin I had spoken at Starbucks was hi, thank you and one cup of. It wasn’t much but it was more than enough at that Starbucks, a beacon for Western tourists in People’s Square where the employees who took orders and payment spoke some English.

That was then.

I was now bonding with classmates, at first over our mutual experience of learning a very different language and then over the different experiences that had led each one of us here. I practiced my German with the Germans, and switched it up to Spanish with the Ecuadorean and with one of the Germans who had studied Spanish.

After our morning class Wednesday, we decided to go out on a group lunch before the Moon Festival long weekend.

After failing to find a restaurant that our instructor recommended for great dumplings, we shook the light drizzle off of our umbrellas and settled on a noodle shop. When I ordered, it was pretty much the same way as I had done many times at Starbucks: I pointed at things on the menu and said my hi, one of, and, one cup of and thank you. I took my number and sat at a table. Moments later my classmates, Lorena, Ellen and Beate, joined me, toting their own numbers. Almost as quickly, our meals came out — except for Ellen’s.

“Should we say something?” I asked the group after several minutes. There were some nervous glances and some debate whether to wait longer.

“What would we say?” asked Beate, a linguist who is showing an ability to absorb the lessons much more quickly than the rest of us. She, as they say, has books smarts. I would say, modestly, I am closely behind her, but my ability is more in the speaking department, hitting the tones and differentiating between z and c, zh and ch, x and q much more clearly.

“There must be some question we can construct with what we’ve learned to say, ‘hey, where’s her food?’” I responded.

We knew the question words for where but Beate and I weren’t sure how to use it in this situation. We were, however, certain we could construct the question, When is her food coming?

With no one wanting to flag the waitress, I volunteered and wavered her over.

“Ni hao,” I said. “Ta de fan shenme shihou lai?”

The waitress turned and looked at Ellen’s number, then walked back to the kitchen.

Suddenly, Beate, Ellen, Lorena and I all stared silently at each other for a few seconds, our jaws slowly dropping.

“Oh my God, she understood you!” they all burst with giddiness.

It was at that moment, sitting in a restaurant with three other newbies of China’s language and culture, when I first truly felt that I just might be able to get along here after all.

Or, at the very least, not depend so much on that Seattle siren.