This is not easy when you do not live in Asia…

The best I found is a combination of podcasts and real teaching with Chinese teachers. I personally use Chinesepod podcasts and http://www.ChineseTeachers.com respectively.

This is not easy when you do not live in Asia…

The best I found is a combination of podcasts and real teaching with Chinese teachers. I personally use Chinesepod podcasts and http://www.ChineseTeachers.com respectively.

—And therein lies the great danger to America in a century when China’s rise as the world’s second super power will define global relationships—and America’s economic life at home in ways we are already beginning to see— (ie. Stimulus and bail-out costs held as US Treasuries by an increasingly worried PRC) — this is a good post—and article, but in some ways has a man-bites-dog character to it—-last article I read on the subject (a couple of years ago) indicated that over 50 million children in China are learning English. Since I first traveled in China, it has become a totally different language experience—13 years ago, I was often met with blank stares, suspicion and silence. Now, even on local commuter trains in remote areas where I may be the only white—young people approach wanting to help—and at the same time, practice their English.

The lack of discipline, (and rote learning which Chinese requires) and liberal lock on American public schools—almost by definition, Euro-centric—is primarily to blame, I believe, for the pitifully small number of American kids learning Mandarin. And it is another way America is falling behind in the cultural and economic competition with China (yes—competition—that word liberal educators hate to hear)

—And therein lies the great danger to America in a century when China’s rise as the world’s second super power will define global relationships—and America’s economic life at home in ways we are already beginning to see— (ie. Stimulus and bail-out costs held as US Treasuries by an increasingly worried PRC) — this is a good post—and article, but in some ways has a man-bites-dog character to it—-last article I read on the subject (a couple of years ago) indicated that over 50 million children in China are learning English. Since I first traveled in China, it has become a totally different language experience—13 years ago, I was often met with blank stares, suspicion and silence. Now, even on local commuter trains in remote areas where I may be the only white—young people approach wanting to help—and at the same time, practice their English.

The lack of discipline, (and rote learning which Chinese requires) and liberal lock on American public schools—almost by definition, Euro-centric—is primarily to blame, I believe, for the pitifully small number of American kids learning Mandarin. And it is another way America is falling behind in the cultural and economic competition with China (yes—competition—that word liberal educators hate to hear)

The writing system is a HUGE barrier to entry compared to just about every other language. After a couple weeks of Spanish study (I also studied Spanish in school), one can look at Spanish-language signs or newspapers whatever and not understand them, but at least have a sense that these are merely words you have yet to learn. Learn 500 Chinese characters and everything outside of beginner-level textbooks is still complete gibberish. After a year or two of Spanish study you can read well enough to get some sense of the meaning of all but the most advanced of materials, even start reading classic literature and newspapers. And you can pronounce it all immediately.

Even after four years of Chinese study (though admittedly mostly spare-time) I can barely read a newspaper article, and every one of them will invariably contain at least one or two characters I’ve never seen before. I can often work out the meaning from context but I can’t read them out loud. And try to read any of the classics that are constantly alluded to in chengyu and elsewhere? Forget it, they’re effectively in a different language that happens to use the same writing system.

And I sometimes find myself able to remember what a character means but have no idea how to say it or vice versa. That is impossible in almost every other language. It even happens to native speakers.

Pronunciation is another issue. It is probably impossible for someone who grew up speaking a tonal language to appreciate how difficult it is for non-tonal language speakers to wrap their brains around tones. It wasn’t until I’d been studying for around three years that I really started to hear the different tones as different sounds on an intuitive level, and I’m still not fully there despite having achieved a decent level of day-to-day verbal fluency. In the beginning you have to think about each syllable you want to speak: Is this a third tone syllable? Am I about to say another third-tone syllable after it and should thus turn it into a second tone? Or is that next syllable, despite being third-tone if I said it by itself, neutral-tone in this case and thus I should skip the tone sandhi? A native speaker does all of this subconsciously and totally effortlessly, but learners have to think it through one syllable at a time.

It’s also the case that Mandarin has a lot of sounds that aren’t present in any western language, e.g., the “i” in “zhi”. (Maybe I shouldn’t say “western” here; the Koreans and Japanese in the summer class I took in China had a lot of trouble with that sound. I did okay, but only because I had previously spent hour upon hour recording and playing back my voice until it sounded right.)

And even if you stick with it for a while, it’s easy to find reasons to give up later on. The endless number of chengyu that are completely indecipherable without learning a zillion folk tales. The lack of a good dictionary that differentiates between words that your native-speaker friends tell you mean the same thing (“What’s the difference between 而且 and 并且?” “No difference, you can use either one.”) but will look at you funny when you use one instead of the other. The lack of word roots to let you take educated guesses at meanings of unfamiliar words or phrases (knowing what 领带 means will not help you guess what 带领 means!)

Now, *I’m* not giving up. In fact, I’m going back to China this summer for more immersion. But I can totally understand how someone who isn’t obsessed with learning for its own sake would give up and move on to something with a much less steep learning curve.

The writing system is a HUGE barrier to entry compared to just about every other language. After a couple weeks of Spanish study (I also studied Spanish in school), one can look at Spanish-language signs or newspapers whatever and not understand them, but at least have a sense that these are merely words you have yet to learn. Learn 500 Chinese characters and everything outside of beginner-level textbooks is still complete gibberish. After a year or two of Spanish study you can read well enough to get some sense of the meaning of all but the most advanced of materials, even start reading classic literature and newspapers. And you can pronounce it all immediately.

Even after four years of Chinese study (though admittedly mostly spare-time) I can barely read a newspaper article, and every one of them will invariably contain at least one or two characters I’ve never seen before. I can often work out the meaning from context but I can’t read them out loud. And try to read any of the classics that are constantly alluded to in chengyu and elsewhere? Forget it, they’re effectively in a different language that happens to use the same writing system.

And I sometimes find myself able to remember what a character means but have no idea how to say it or vice versa. That is impossible in almost every other language. It even happens to native speakers.

Pronunciation is another issue. It is probably impossible for someone who grew up speaking a tonal language to appreciate how difficult it is for non-tonal language speakers to wrap their brains around tones. It wasn’t until I’d been studying for around three years that I really started to hear the different tones as different sounds on an intuitive level, and I’m still not fully there despite having achieved a decent level of day-to-day verbal fluency. In the beginning you have to think about each syllable you want to speak: Is this a third tone syllable? Am I about to say another third-tone syllable after it and should thus turn it into a second tone? Or is that next syllable, despite being third-tone if I said it by itself, neutral-tone in this case and thus I should skip the tone sandhi? A native speaker does all of this subconsciously and totally effortlessly, but learners have to think it through one syllable at a time.

It’s also the case that Mandarin has a lot of sounds that aren’t present in any western language, e.g., the “i” in “zhi”. (Maybe I shouldn’t say “western” here; the Koreans and Japanese in the summer class I took in China had a lot of trouble with that sound. I did okay, but only because I had previously spent hour upon hour recording and playing back my voice until it sounded right.)

And even if you stick with it for a while, it’s easy to find reasons to give up later on. The endless number of chengyu that are completely indecipherable without learning a zillion folk tales. The lack of a good dictionary that differentiates between words that your native-speaker friends tell you mean the same thing (“What’s the difference between 而且 and 并且?” “No difference, you can use either one.”) but will look at you funny when you use one instead of the other. The lack of word roots to let you take educated guesses at meanings of unfamiliar words or phrases (knowing what 领带 means will not help you guess what 带领 means!)

Now, *I’m* not giving up. In fact, I’m going back to China this summer for more immersion. But I can totally understand how someone who isn’t obsessed with learning for its own sake would give up and move on to something with a much less steep learning curve.