Chinglish

Growing up in the diverse city of San Francisco, and living in the relatively integrated neighborhood of the Excelsior district, I have come across a wide spectrum of social situations and encounters. I think sometime during my high school years, I came to consciously realize that I will employ a different language for each of these different social situations. In fact, I just about almost use a different language for each person I know. Only back then, I did not call these ways of interacting “languages,” believing languages only meant the systems of communication specific to a region or country. I will change my diction or tone specific to the person, based on my previous experiences with that particular person; or if the person is someone I have not met before, I default into a cordial, almost defensive tone. After giving this concept of “languages” some recent thought, I pinpointed one particular language that I have been using exclusively with one person my entire life. That language is Chinglish, and the person is my mom. Chinglish is basically using Chinese and English words interchangeably when speaking, and usually involves a greater proportion of Chinese words compared to English words. I use Chinglish because, as I speak Cantonese, I encounter a particular word I do not know or have momentarily forgotten, and will then substitute its English equivalent in its place. I use Chinglish only with my mom because she is the only person I generally speak Chinese with, but who also has some knowledge of English as well. But sometimes the words I cannot say in Chinese are words she cannot understand in English, making for frustrating dialogue, and resulting in some searching in a Chinese-English dictionary.