By: Tif
I dream in a bilingual mess; not Chinese nor English because I master neither. Call it “Chinglish” if you will, but it is more than simply a conglomeration of language. Inside my dreams, inside my unconscious mind, I span two continents, two cultures.
A dream: I am in a crowded marketplace. A stranger speaks in Mandarin and I bargain back, using phrases that I’ve only heard and have never said. I meet my maternal grandmother and talk to her about her day. The words flow naturally; there is no awkward pause for translation, but there are empty gaps in which I cannot find the perfect word. I feel young.
Suddenly, the setting changes and so do the words that come out of my mouth. I carry on a discussion about Songs of Solomon, talking about tone, style, and the concept of flying. English is more comprehensible to my ear and my argument is solid. But the balance feels off. The words are hard and ricochet against my cheek; try it: “book, welcome, splatter”.
I realize that I am here halfway, neither fully Asian nor fully American (whatever that means, I do not know anymore). I understand enough of both languages to comprehend them without whipping out a pocket dictionary. Yet, I understand too little to grasp the language by the roots and call it my own.
I do not believe that I am alone. Many of us are first or second generation Americans/Europeans, our voices a song of both East and West. We take off our shoes when we walk in the front door and we proudly flaunt our chopsticks skills. At the same time, we talk about pizza, iPods, and internet pop culture. I used to feel as if I was trapped in equilibrium, neither one foot in this culture nor one foot in my parent’s. The Caucasian students would always consider me Asian, different, but my family back in Taiwan would refer to me as “the American child”. I sometimes felt tossed between the two continents.
But while writing silly college essays about my ethnicity, I realized that instead of being torn, I am quite the reverse. I encompass the American ideal of a melting pot and understand the best (and worst) of two opposite worlds. I am fortunate to be able to call both Asia and America my mother country. In my blood, I have rich culture and tradition woven with a zeal for innovation and independent achievement.
I celebrate the colorful Lunar New Year to the beat of a great drum and the other New Year with horns, rattles, and whistles. I eat mooncakes and rice, spaghetti and bagels. I fit the stereotypical image of a good student and all, but refuse to spend 24/7 locked up in my room with textbooks. I believe in equality and justice, hard work, and respect towards elders and those who deserve it. Though impulsive at times, I can restrain my opinions to fit the circumstances and create a well-founded argument. Finally, I can attend baseball games, go to Chinatown and drink bubble tea, swing by a party or club, and go see a classical concert without being given odd looks. Best of two worlds, wouldn’t you say?
Most of all, I love being able to speak two languages, switching from elaborate metaphors to tongue-rolling words without a second thought. Now I am learning Spanish, but each sentence takes a slow, painful translation. One day, maybe one day, I will wake up realizing that I dreamt in Mandarin, English, and Spanish. How colorful would life be then? 
Tif is a Halfway Staff Writer.
May 3rd, 2005 at 2:49 pm
I’ve always wondered about this. I dream in feelings and colours. I don’t remember any specific language used (I speak about four fluently).
May 7th, 2005 at 1:01 am
I loved this article. I can totally relate to this.
May 25th, 2005 at 10:46 am
The title of your article immediately made me want to click on it, b/c I assumed I would know what the article was about. Although, you did write about dreaming in 2 diff. languages, you soon started writing about the clash of the East & West (which is understandable, esp. given that this online mag is all about this), but to be honest, I found your article a bit of mess; it flip & flop between the issues. This is not to insult you, but I definitely found some of the other articles on here much more focused in their writing.
Perhaps it was because I already had a preceived assumption of what this article was going to be. Since I was all ready to write about how all my life I only dreamt in English (although like you, my parents would speak to me in an Asian language), and my 1st experience of dreaming in another language was when I visited a French speaking place for a month & was encouraged to speak the language. Also, I have been persuing a minor in Spanish, so I have the odd dream here & there with Spanish words, which is quite cool once I wake up & realize it happened. Anyway, your article was still a good read. Thanks.
May 27th, 2005 at 10:48 am
I used to have a Japanese friend and she’d always say that I was like an egg, white on the outside, and yellow on the inside. I wonder if that is completely true. I agree I think very Asian, and end even English sentences with “ne” or “yo”, but I am still American. It is very confusing sometimes, its just good to know that I’m not alone in this half/half.
Oh and on the topic of dreaming, I once had a dream in a lanuage I’ve never even studied. It was pretty cool actually. I can’t wait to dream one in Japanese.