OK you can see this blog now as it has been published in the Nanjing Expat Magazine
… but it’s just not right. What isn’t? The sign on the bin at Carrefour. It says “Keep the stares clean”. What’s wrong with that? Well it should be “stairs” not “stares”. But you can understand the meaning so what’s the problem?
And she’s right, that’s just it, we can understand it. In the west, detail is all important but in China “close enough is good enough”. Yes, we can all see that it means don’t drop litter on the escalators so what’s the big deal? With temperatures falling to “brass monkey” level, the prospect of a long cold Nanjing winter is making me contemplate suicide.
So I dig out my thick coat and decide to cheer myself up. I start at the Bank of China in XinJieKou where I take the few steps up to the revolving doors to have a look at “Pushes carefully the wound” but this doesn’t cheer me up. I need stronger stuff today. Side-stepping the yellow globules of spit, I decide to take my life in my hands and cross the road. I steel myself… dodging left, dodging right, whoooaaa! an electric bike, step back into the path of a taxi, screeeech, toooooooot, onwards slowly, quickly, slowly, beep beep, made it.
Catching my breath I find myself at the ATM but “Beware of being peeped” isn’t going to help my mood either. Even the “cash recycling” machine fails to raise a smile today. I decide that today is a day which calls for the highest grade Chinglish. This is a day which calls for a trip to Gulou. Because it’s cold I get a taxi and after the inevitable white-knuckle ride of death he pours me out onto the pavement.
I have always considered that the best way to arrive at a place is on foot so I walk the last part. I am excited. Will it still be there? Just around the corner, next block, cross the road, nearly there now, mind the loose paving slab, side-step more globules of spit and stop! There it is. Still there. Standing proud. Steadfast in its steely-faced glory.
It’s Nanjing’s very own vomiting cash machine! And I smile. I smile and turn. OK it’s not right but when was the last time an ATM made you laugh. One which offers to vomit your cash has to raise the spirits of even the most miserable foreigner?
We may mock the Chinese for their Chinglish but would Paris, London or New York ever translate their signs into Chinese? So I would like to say “Thank you China. Thank you for your consideration. Thank you for cheering me up and yes, thank you for the errors.
You put the ‘Ch’ into Chinglish and without it we have only ‘inglish’ and that just wouldn’t be right!”