等等，我忘了換口音

Recently, I found out that I swing both ways. Linguistically speaking, that is.

It was late on a Thursday night, and time was not on my side. I had deadlines looming, an almost-empty fridge, two kids screaming at the top of their lungs for dinner that should have been served to them an hour ago and a room full of toys that needed to be desperately kept away before bedtime. It was obviously one of 'those days'.

I was desperate. And then it hit me. I'd order some take-out from the new Sichuan noodle restaurant across the road, feed the kids and then maybe, as a thank you for the treat, they'd offer to tidy up while I work on those excel spreadsheets. I dialed like lightning speed, spoke as quickly as I could, and hung up without a flutter of an eyelid.

COLUMNIST'S PROFILE

Lena Gidwani is a resident of Guangzhou for 13 years, selfconfessed networker, magazine editor and an avid writer.

Lena Gidwani，網(wǎng)絡(luò)工作者、雜志編輯、作家，在廣州居住13年。

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. I flung myself towards the door and opened with more gusto than I imagined I would. A stout man stood before me, an insulated red delivery bag in hand. He appeared a little stunned, then looked past me, his eyes darting from side to side, as if searching for someone else.

'Nihao', I said with a hint of annoyance. Who, or what, was this man looking for? I pointed to the bag in his hand and casually asked if he could please hand it over. After all, I needed it ifiwanted that toy room tidied up. He looked at me quizzically again, and then in a confident voice, asked ificould please ask the Chinese woman that called the restaurant to come to the door, as he had her food. I broke into a grin, as I realised the obvious.

I forgot my accent.

All of us possess the mental dexterity to write fluently in one or more languages, and yet, lo and behold, speak entirely different ones. Because, like it or not, many of us shift linguistic gears whenever we move from one country to another. It applies to accents too. Accents are not fixed. It changse over time as our needs change and as our sense of who we are changes and develops. Usually this happens naturally, and often unconsciously. To change your accent you have to really want to, deep down. This usually happens without much effort because you move to a new place, mix with different people, or develop new aspirations. In sociolinguistics, there's a theory called 'convergence' where a speaker moves towards the speech style of his or her interlocutor so as to reduce social distance. You know, so we can fit in without sticking out like a sore thumb?

It took me a moment to compose myself and ask again for my food, this time with my Chinese accent right on point.

And as we sat around our dining table with our wooden chopsticks, slurping away in utter happiness, I had to smile. It's a wonderful thing indeed, living abroad in a country that may never technically be home, yet is now mine in every convergent way possible.

最近，我發(fā)現(xiàn)自己可以自如地在兩種語(yǔ)言中切換。

那時(shí)正值周四的深夜，時(shí)間緊迫。我急著趕工作任務(wù)，可是冰箱空空如也，兩個(gè)孩子吵著要吃飯，還有一屋子玩具得收拾，真是鬧心。

正要崩潰，突然靈光一閃，為何不訂外賣給孩子們吃，也許，作為報(bào)答，他倆會(huì)樂(lè)意收拾下房間。我風(fēng)馳電掣般撥號(hào)，一口氣點(diǎn)完餐，然后眼不帶眨地掛掉電話。

二十分鐘后，門鈴響了。我沖到門口，滿腔熱情地打開(kāi)門。一位矮壯的小哥站在我面前，提著紅色保溫袋。他吃了一驚，眼神越過(guò)我，骨碌碌轉(zhuǎn)著眼珠子，似乎在找人。

“你好?！?我有點(diǎn)不耐煩。他在找誰(shuí)？我指指袋子，問(wèn)他要外賣。他再次疑惑地看著我，問(wèn)道，“可以叫打電話的中國(guó)女人來(lái)拿外賣嗎？”我露齒一笑，明白了。

我忘了換成我的中國(guó)口音。

我們都有用多種語(yǔ)言流利書寫或交談的潛在能力。每當(dāng)來(lái)到不同的國(guó)家或地區(qū)，很多人都能切換語(yǔ)言機(jī)制?？谝舨⒉皇枪潭ǖ模瑫?huì)自然地隨著自身角色的變化而變化。社會(huì)語(yǔ)言學(xué)中的趨同理論表明，說(shuō)話者會(huì)盡量與對(duì)話者保持語(yǔ)言方式的一致，以拉近社交關(guān)系。

我花了片刻鎮(zhèn)靜下來(lái)，再次問(wèn)他要外賣，這次用的是地道的中國(guó)話。

我和孩子們圍坐在餐桌邊，歡快地將飯菜一掃而光。真是妙，雖然我不是中國(guó)人，但在心理上，中國(guó)已經(jīng)是我的故鄉(xiāng)。

Wait, I forgot my accent

Text by Lena Gidwani Translation by Emma Xu Photo by CFP