Horses and hemp

Three weeks to go until my departure for China, and my Chinese is less than say…functional. I can count to 8, say my colors, and correctly differentiate between men and women. But let’s say I want to ask someone their name, or get directions, or anything that might be remotely useful, I’m fucked three ways. This is not for lack of trying, scout’s honor I’ve been working at it, but when the Chinese established their culture thousands of years ago and created a language, they evidently did not consider my convenience. Not to knock ancient civilizations, but would it have killed them to create an alphabet? I am aware that this makes me sound both lazy and disrespectful, but really? How any outsider is expected to memorize the thousands of characters that make up the Chinese language is beyond me. And don’t get me started on the four tones. Ah yes, the four tones. Depending on inflection, words take on entirely different meanings. Up, down, up then down, down then up, Christ. It just sounds like the recipe for a mediocre blow job. The word “ma” can mean either: mother, horse, hemp, or to scold. I applaud anyone who can master this with ease, because it is 100% beyond me. Still, I practice daily and I am determined to not look like a jack ass American that expects everyone to cater to my English speaking ways. Even if we can only count to 8 together, I will befriend the Chinese people with my linguistic prowess.