Ten Little Dumplings

Fried Dumplings

I was getting hungry and needed to explore my Chinese in order to grab something to eat.  Diane was at work and I’d had a busy morning, so finding something edible for lunch was up to me.  I walked down the street and stopped at my favorite dumpling store, where I pointed to a box and showed them the hand sign for “ten,” crossing both of my index fingers in the shape of an “X.”  Within minutes, I was happily rewarded with a set of ten dumplings and I devoured every one of them. 

Now, “ten” is not that hard to say in Chinese:  “shi” (十), with a rising tone.  The challenge comes when you hear it said with a Taiwanese accent.  They tend to drop the “h” when speaking Chinese, sounding more like “si.”  For example, try saying “44” in Chinese, “si shi si” (四十四), then apply the Taiwanese accent, arriving at “si si si.”  If you know the tones well enough, you’ll understand how to say this correctly.  In fact, if you can count to ten clearly in Chinese, you’ve already mastered the tonal side of the language.

The next day, after a busy morning of kindergarten class, I was in desperate need of filling my belly again.  I went back to my favorite dumpling store and decided to order twenty this time.  I gave the same hand signal, the sign of an “X,” but this time I did it twice.  When my order arrived, still the same box of only ten dumplings.  Did they think I’d stuttered in sign language?  Or, when I’d made the “X” two times, was I only adding emphasis and clarity to the ten that I’d indicated?  Regardless, it became clear that I needed to speak Chinese to get exactly what I wanted.

A few days later, kindergarten once more getting the better part of my empty stomach, I went back to try again.  I walked up to the counter and meagerly said, “er shi” (二十), which means “twenty” in Chinese.  Instantly I could see they had no clue what I was talking about.  I said it again, louder this time and with an exaggerated tone, but still that blank look in their faces.  I tried dropping the “h,” sounding like “er si,” but no box of 20 dumplings appeared anywhere in sight.  So I went back to my hand signals and received ten dumplings.

I walked away dejected and hungry.  After I rounded the corner, something occurred to me.  I waited a few moments and then went back to the store, again ordering a box of ten dumplings using hand signals.  Suddenly I had two boxes of ten, or the twenty dumplings my gut was set on.  Maybe surviving in another country wasn’t going to be as hard as I had imagined.

After a few weeks of using this tactic, my wife and I stopped in for a bite to eat at that same dumpling store.  The waiter was familiar with me by this time and asked my wife in Chinese why I always came back for seconds.  When she explained my dilemma to them, they all had a good laugh about it.  But the next time I went to buy dumplings, a new problem arose.  They were so eager to provide the twenty dumplings that I failed to express to them that I only wanted ten this time.  What was I to do on the days when I might be really picky and wish to eat only twelve dumplings, or fifteen?

Hunger is often the driver in our quest to learn new things.  Learning to get what I wanted for lunch on the streets of Taiwan has taught me more about speaking Chinese than any lesson in a classroom back home would.  By living overseas I’ve been learning not only the language, but also putting into practice on a daily basis.  Once you’ve mastered the numbering system and can count fluently in Chinese, you’ll be able to order food, go to the bank, and talk about the weather, the days of the week and the months and the year.  You’ll be able to give an address to a taxi driver or buy extra sets of clothes at the department store.  I’d suggested that if you’re new at speaking Chinese, focus on the numbers first and listen closely to the tones involved.  Then go out and satisfy your hunger by saying something new in Chinese.