Between Words and Between Worlds (Part I)

Introduction

It is a story about exploring differences and the true self.

I don’t think there is any problem to use my CHINESE MIND while writing in English. It’s who I am!” Being a writer, especially a bilingual writer in a land that differs than her home country, Dian has to deal with numerous challenges. Even though it has been eight years, Dian still struggles with the linguistic differences, her identities, and the meaning to be a bilingual writer. She lost a lot but gained more. After these years, she has not been that little girl when the first time she came to the United States. She has grown into an incredible woman, a person that she always wants to be.

The Cuban-American writer Gustavo Perez Firmat once said, “I don’t have one true language.” Writing in different languages fail him in both languages, as he said. But for Dian, being a bilingual and writing in different languages allow her to see the world more clearly. In her adventure of writing in another language, she might have not found the real meaning of it, not found the true self, and not found the space just for her, between words and between worlds. But, all of these motivates her to explore both of the languages, and then grow to be a competence writer. To her, writing in another language may be a life-long adventure, but she does not regret and would never do.

 •••

Autumn leaves are falling from the trees in front of the lovely Victorian house. Afternoon sunshine dapples through the leaves. From a distance, squirrels are like fluffy balls on the lawn, looking for foods for the upcoming winter. It’s such a wonderful afternoon in the late autumn. But, it seems that the rare sunny day couldn’t please Dian. She frowns, sitting on the terrace of her house with a book and pencil in hands. On the table in front of her, the computer is opened with a processing document. 

 “Are you still working on that story?” Steve came out from the house and walked up behind Dian.

“Oh, hey. Yes.” She was too focused to notice that Steve came to her.

“You look confused. If there’s a mirror, you would know, you look just like, like, what its name? Baozi (steamed stuffed bun)? You cooked for me last Saturday.” Steve used his hand fondle Dian’s forehead, trying to appease her frown. 

Dian still staring at the screen without moving. “Hmm, that’s because I stocked. I’m thinking a word, and I want to make the sentence sound more native, but I’m not sure how I should express it. You know I always struggle with this kind of thing.” 

“Of course I know. But like I always said, do whatever you think is right. You are a good writer. You know that. Not to mention that you have a good teacher!” Steve straightened up and looked very proud.

This kind of conversation has happened not only once. Whenever Dian writes something in English, some language issues could always annoy her. It might be the struggle for the word choice, the grammar. Sometimes it’s a couple of hours, and sometimes it would be days, just to find the perfect word and compose a perfect sentence. It also happens when she writes in Chinese, but won’t take that long. After all, English is her second language. And the language is the hardest thing to master.

 So, it’s not surprising that even if it’s Dian’s eighth year to be here, the United States, and she has published many writing works and a book in English, she would say that “I’m still learning” every time she gets compliments.  

Eight years ago, Dian stepped into this land, a land that is familiar but also strange for her, to pursue a bright future like many other Chinese did. People who know her always compliment how undaunted she was, coming to a country that thousands of miles away from her hometown, and becoming an incredible woman now. But, only herself knows the difficulties she went through these years. In her own words, “who knows what I’ve experienced these years? I’ve never thought that I could become a writer. It was just a childhood dream, a dream that I dared not to think. And writing English? Not even a dream.”

 But, here she is. “An intelligent woman, an incredible bilingual writer,” a book reviewer commented after reading her book. It was Dian’s first published book, which took her almost four years. She spent numerous days and nights just for getting a perfect word or writing a perfect sentence. Sometimes, she would seek advice from her husband Steve, and they might argue for some language problems.

“If you’re not an American, I wouldn’t marry you.” Dian would say and usually roll her eyes. And then Steve would response that “yes. And you should feel lucky, cause whenever you have problems with the language, you have someone to ask. And I think I’m pretty good at it. I taught you really well, but sometimes you need to change your CHINESE MIND if you want to make your work more native.”  Most of the time, Steve is more like a teacher, a mentor that helps Dian with some linguistic problems since she is a non-English speaker. “Hey! I don’t think there’s any problem to use my CHINESE MIND while writing in English. It’s who I am!”

•••

In the past, Dian would never say that. Especially, in the first three years of the college. She was an entirely different person. “An introverted person,” she used to say it herself. But since her first step entered into the United States, eight years have elapsed. Things have changed a lot. If she didn’t come to the United States, didn’t take the English class, and didn’t realize the thing she wants to do for her whole life, she wouldn’t become an intellectual writer, doing her favorite thing. And every time she recalls her college life, she feels glad that she didn’t give up when the life pushed her so hard. Everything still seemed like a dream. She even thinks when she wakes up someday, and she would find herself at the library with a paper opened on the computer in front of her.  

Her life is real, for sure. What she thought won’t happen. But it’s also true that the first day of college, the first class she attended still in front of her eyes like it just happened yesterday. It is the sense of being an outsider, the sense of helplessness, the sense of frustration that reminds her those difficulties she experienced all the time, but also which make her feel grateful.  

 “You know how long have you been keeping the same position?” Steve came out from the study and found that Dian is still sitting on the sofa without moving.

“Hmm… I don’t know. An hour, probably?”

“Ha-ha, probably. What are you thinking? What’s that?” Steve pointing to the papers in Dian’s hand.

“This? Just some old pieces I found. They reminded the old days. And…” Dian paused.

“And what? Missing your first love?”

“I wanted to say that I feel so lucky to live my dream life with the one I love. But if you said so. Okay, I miss my first love.”

“Okay, okay. Just kidding. So…the old days?” Steve sited down next to Dian

“Uh, here.” Dian handed the papers to him and says, “you know, it’s the piece from my first year in college. It’s actually pretty embarrassing, see my broken English. And I feel sorry for my professors that they have to read those words. Some of the sentences didn’t make any sense! I think now I know what they mean by Chinglish.”

“Yes, I agree. I feel sorry for them, and YOU should too. Definitely!” Staring at the papers, Steve is trying not to laugh out.

“Hey! I’m hoping to hear something positive!” Dian poked him suddenly.

“Well, fine, fine. Here’s the positive part. I have to admit that your English is amazing… Compared to yours in the first year here, of course.”

“Uh, I shouldn’t expect to hear anything serious from you.” Dian rolled her eyes, going away.

“An, don’t go! I wanted to tell you, mom called and said they will be here tomorrow morning. Don’t forget to get our Thanksgiving turkey prepared!”

“I won’t, but, mei ni de fen! (nothing for you)” Dian just waved to Steve without turning back and going away. *

•••

Thanksgiving is coming. It’s their turn to held the Thanksgiving dinner this year. So Steve’s parents are coming to their place. Robert and Kathy came very early in the morning to help them prepare the dinner. In fact, they wanted to have more time with Dian to talk about her new book. Both Steve’s parents Robert and Kathy are professors in a Midwestern university. Robert specializes in the literary and cultural studies, and Kathy, focus mainly on the composition and rhetoric. So, basically, they are a “literature family.”

When Steve and Dian got married, his parents were really happy that their son found the special one who shares the same passion with their family. What’s more, Dian is a Chinese. They thought that her identity could bring the family some unique worldviews. So, they have a special favor for their daughter-in-law. It seems that they could always have an endless conversation every time they come together.

Dian is waiting for them in front of the house. Seeing them coming from the distance, Dian waved her had. “Good morning.”

Kathy came out of from the car and walked toward Dian with a big smile. “Hi, An. Long time no sees. We miss you so much!” An is Dian’s Chinese name, only people in her family would call her that.

“I miss you too. How’re you doing.” Dian walked to her and gave her a big welcome hug. “Sorry Steve and I couldn’t go back to visit you last month. I have to go to the conference.”   

“It’s okay. We know you’re busy on writing some new stories. We can’t wait to read them.” Kathy looked at Dian like she hasn’t seen her in ages.

“Hey mom, I’m doing good. And good to see you too!” Steve showed up behind them and interrupted their greeting. “I have to ask am I your son? You didn’t me sitting here too?” Steve couldn’t stand that every time Kathy sees Dian, she would act like her son doesn’t exist.

“Good morning, son. Didn’t I tell you that your mom and I found you in a basket in front of our door?” Heard their conversation, Robert walked the distance. 

“Oh. Fine. I now know why both of you like her more. Okay, okay, I will leave your guys here enjoying the family reunion. And the turkey will be mine.” Steve hummed and shook his head walking into the house.  

“You’re jealous, again? Such a child.” Dian shouting at him slyly.

“Ignore him. He’s just like his father. Let’s get into there. We can’t wait to hear your stories. And Robert kept saying that he wants to continue your conversation about the language on our way to here.”

“Yes, I got something to discuss with you. Let’s go, kid.”

Seeing them come inside the house, Steve walked to the living room with hands behind his back. And a mysterious smile showed on his face. “Mom, dad, you know what I found yesterday? I think you must be interested in it since it’s something related to An.” His words raised everyone’s curiosity.

“What did you find?” Robert and Kathy asked.

“What? Steve? What are you saying?” Dian felt something wrong.  

“I found Dian’s first paper in the college. She said that it was her first work written in English. So I think you might want to read and it might help you with your research, Dad.” Steve waved the paper in his hand, like a little boy showing off some novel things he just found.

“Steve, you’re so childish. Could you be an adult!”

“Really? An, could we read it? I wonder what an intellectual writer’s first work looks like.” Robert walked to his son and got the paper from him.

Dian looked embarrassed but still said, “if you said so, Robert. But, but… it’s so embarrassing. You know, my English might be better than average at that time, but it was still a broken English.”

“Hahaha, I see. But it’s okay, as a professor, I’ve read various paper written by international students. And I bet yours should be great.”

“Oh, no, Robert. It’s flattered. They were just a little girl’s immature ideas. And to be honest, I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of you guys.”

“If it is what you are worried about, don’t be. We won’t laugh at you, you know. Watching a writers’ development is our favorite thing. It’s fascinating to watch someone growing up into a sophisticated writer from a beginner.”

“Well, I guess that makes me feel better now. And since we are family…”

“let’s see what you wrote.”