You, Me and English

Every Friday, I repeat, every Friday, I have to sit in front of my laptop and think. To think, to decide what to write for the week. Usually it takes me at least two hours to think and another two to type. Then probably another half to re-read and correct the grammar. Wow, that takes a hell lot of time there!

I admit I kind of like writing, but not really into it yet. Well, I should thank this for my shaky relationship with English since I was young. English was an enemy but kind of an acquaintance today. I wonder why the grammar is so complex unlike Mandarin in which there is little, if any, grammatical rules! This was before I learned that Russian, French, German etc. have even more complex grammar. I was grateful for not having to learn them now.

My English teacher in my primary school was fierce. She used to cane students A LOT for not finishing her homework, in which sometimes it was because that person don't know how to do it. It was worse after every test. Those who failed to reach her 'cut-off point' will be awarded with more caning, and the fun part is you get to choose your own cane. She taught me my very first three years of English and that created some kind of phobia in me. I never tried to befriend English since then, until 2006.

For your information, I'd only really started reading novels in 2006, and only a meagre amount before that, probably less than 5. I think it's mainly because my family do not buy books. My mum used to say: "Why waste money on novels when you can borrow it from the school library?" The reason here is that the novels in my school library was pathetically BORING and the choice is limited. Furthermore, I used to hate any book that is thicker than 2 centimetres. (Yes, that includes textbooks) But now I love thick books. Some of the thin ones are too fast paced and I love details. Yet, I read quite a lot today, and it is for fun.

Why 2006 is the turning point for my relationship with English? I am not really sure myself either, but it is most probably due to two main factors. One, my English teacher that year is great, and two, my classmate who was sitting beside me led me into the wonderful world of literature. I had the most dedicated teacher I've ever seen in my life for English that year. Though she looked as if she was still living in the 50's, her passion for English was overwhelming. She would scrutinise our essays and really want us to improve. Her aura made me feel guilty if I disappointed her. Then there was Talon (my classmate's alias), who speaks a lot English in a Chinese school and positively pessimistic. At first it seemed kind of weird talking to him. I would speak in Mandarin and he'd reply in English. Somehow over time, I find myself babbling away in English when I was having a conversation with him. Moreover, he is the one who recommended a lot of fictions to me and that was how I started reading novels.

Today, my life is centered around this language and I have to learn it, study it and love it. Though it is my second language, I feel like it is now stronger than my first language. I am still yet to be good in it, but I am working on it definitely. My grammar really is a big problem in both writing and speaking. Well, the fluency and the eloquence too. I don't blame the language, I blame myself for not setting a concrete foundation in my early days. Instead, my foundation for English is made of mostly hatred and fear.