写华文 讲华语

自小二來，我的華文就開始退步。有一次，老师发回考倦时，面对着我的眼睛竟然是个凄凉的６８分！我母亲一怒之下，命令我在家里只可以用华语沟通。对那时的我，这是个很大的打击　－　虽然我不是那種 kentang (马铃薯），但我从小就习惯在家里讲英语。更可惜的是，我總覺得英文的故事書看了比較精采。比如說，enid blyton 所描寫的magic faraway tree series, 或mr galliano's circus series, 或 malory towers 和 st clares, 甚至她出名的 secret seven 和 famous five 的故事，都讓我和我的朋友們陪養成喜愛看書的好習慣。《水虎傳》和《西遊記》和《紅樓夢》似乎對我來說，印象卻一點也不深刻。

到了中學的時候，可應用華語的机會已減少了幾倍：隻會講華語、英文比交差的同學就辨得“不酷”。為了保守我的“酷”的表像，我隻好把 七龍珠 和我正在迷的各種漫畫藏在家里，等放學後回家讀。從那時後，華文跟我的關係辨成了一種“隻需要來看漫畫”，或“隻用來過考官”的不重要的關係。

我外婆曾經是個華文老師。她時常必需使尽全力，让我对华文有一点兴取。奇怪地，因为她那时逼我死背唐诗的关系，我渐渐地喜欢上华语，还开始欣赏我们华人的文化。近几天来，我突然想找回十年前所背的一首诗　－　白居易的《琵琶行》。　想当年我死背得那么辛苦的一首诗，　现在会对我有这么大的含义，真不敢想像。最令我惊奇的是，华文有多么美丽的含义，在几个字内可以表答出。已往只听英文歌的我，现在也渐渐开始听华文歌了。

this entry has taken me as much time as if i were to have typed a short essay in english. it is not lengthy, yet it has traced the process of the importance of chinese to me. it makes me proud of my roots, and just a little wistful that my chinese vocabulary isn't what i'd describe as 'bursting at the seams'.

writing in chinese is typically a pencil-in-the-hanyu-pinyin-first process for me. if not, it is write-in-the-english-meaning-first. whatever the case, it cannot be said that my brain is capable of switching back and forth bilingually. it stubbornly retains its 268 processor speed, and refuses to process any commands in chinese. naturally, this poses a problem in conversations. evidence that my chinese grammar sucks big time is when my chinese-speaking friends are sent into soundless, tearful laughter by my gesticulations attempting to make up for my broken speech.