This interaction would feel like a dream to my younger self. Not merely the fact that I could study in another country, but that I could enjoy learning a language enough to become proficient. Between fourth grade French, sixth grade Latin, and high school Spanish, by the time I reached college I thought that I could finally rid my class schedule of foreign language. Come August nearly four years ago, I thus grudgingly began the process of deciding which language to study at St. Olaf. When I look back, I never cease to feel appreciative that I had the premonition to begin a new language my first semester of college. I wanted to learn the language that was most distant from the previous romance languages I had studied. Bonus if there were no verb conjugations. This, paired with the general student consensus that the Chinese faculty at St. Olaf were amazing, pushed me to register for Chinese 111 that fall semester. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I also wanted to surprise people, myself included, by studying something unconventional. The first few weeks of class were discouraging to say the least. Adapting the way my brain absorbed information to make sense of this new, bizarre language was more than half the battle. I distinctly remember my first pinyin quiz, where the professor read various Chinese syllables that to me, sounded exactly the same from one phrase to the next. The difference between “jiu” and “zhou” (which both sound roughly like Joe) was imperceptible to me, and feeling inexperienced and at a loss was yet one other “foreign” experience to learning this foreign language. Without the three semester minimum requirement, I likely would never have registered for the next course. I remember spending hours trying to memorize a simple list of vocabulary, two whole tutoring sessions trying to pronounce the word for “weekend”, and continually reverting back to the grammatical sentence structures of English. There was no exact moment things took a drastic turn; no flip of a switch, no light bulb above my head. And yet the language suddenly started to make sense. It was like my brain had finally made the transition and was miraculously enabled to learn and absorb Chinese at a much faster rate. And then it became FUN. Around that time, I was able to study abroad for the first time in Europe. Upon returning from that trip, I began seriously considering other programs abroad, namely language immersion summer programs. With the help of my favorite Chinese professor, I selected a rigorous eight week program. I then discovered the LUCE Foundation that the college advertised for studies of Asia and the Environment. One of the experiences that the program funded was summer language immersion programs. With no knowledge of how much money was being offered, I applied for funding for my summer program. I ended up receiving a $10,000 grant to fully cover all expenses for my language immersion program. That spring, I also committed to the physics major, which meant my schedule became a lot more demanding.  I was thus under pressure, from both my academic schedule and the responsibility I felt from the grant, to use those two months to the fullest.

 

          The CIEE language program was easily the most difficult thing I have ever undertaken. Having studied two years of Chinese language, I tested in at the advanced third year level. Originally accustomed to three hours of class a week, with weekly quizzes of about 20 vocabulary words covering topics such as hobbies and the weather, the academic reality I faced in Shanghai was like an electric shock. I had four hours of class daily, Monday through Thursday. The first hour involved a quiz on the 50 or so vocab words we had learned the night before. The rest of that hour was spent shouting back those new vocabulary words to our first (there were multiple) teacher as she held up notecards. Hour two was grammar, as we strung new words into sentences using new patterns. We spent the third hour answering discussion questions about a two page single spaced textbook chapter that we had read through and done an entire worksheet on the night before. I remember how my heart sank staring at the solid block of text for the first time. The last hour? To divide up into pairs of students with a personal teacher who would quiz us in a 2 on 1 setting on everything we had just exhaustively learned. This fourth hour on the first day of class involved my eyes brimming with tears that inevitably spilled over as I failed to answer each question even after multiple repetitions. We covered one chapter a day, and each night had two homework assignments. We had to read the entire chapter for the next day, do a worksheet on it, learn 50 new words, and write a 300 character review essay on the material covered in class that day. I had one on one tutoring with teachers at least once a week, and almost daily hour long tutoring sessions with a Chinese student my age.  I had three different Chinese teachers for various portions of class, and two of them lived in the dorm with us. It was not uncommon to have attempts at morning toothbrush conversations in English interrupted by a “说中文！Speak Chinese!” yelled from a bathroom stall by an unseen teacher. To top it off, every Friday held an exam for the week that took several hours to complete. I made it to the first weekend in a daze, realizing with sharp clarity that I still had 7 more weeks to endure. I felt despair, frustration, acute loneliness and self doubt. And then I buckled down and got to work. Just as I had experienced earlier that year, there was a turning point where the workload seemed less assaulting and I began to experience conversations that were gratifying rather than defeating. I had conversations about gun control, environmental protection policies, migrant worker rights, and American and Chinese politics. I had the ability to express my thoughts, opinions, passions; and the ability to understand the same from others. Conversations with strangers at the grocery store or on the train, however, were just as gratifying as the intellectual debates from the classroom. Regardless of topic or circumstance, any conversation that ended in mutual understanding from both sides left me filled with excitement, accomplishment, and the thought that maybe seven hours of homework a night was worth it.

 

          From then on, even after returning to St. Olaf, my goal in furthering my Chinese study has been driven by a love for the language and the goal to be as fluent as possible. Even now I’m not entirely sure on what kind of career lies in wait for me that would involve Chinese. I enjoy learning and practicing Chinese immensely, but engineering is where my true passion lies, and has lead to me pursuing a masters degree after graduation. I was fortunate to be based in Shanghai, the most developed and modern city in China. I was amazed by the unique architecture in parts of the city center and found the urban planning museum to be one of my absolute favorite parts of my trip. I do believe that what drew me to both Chinese and Mechanical Engineering is the artistic aspect of each. My initial interest in Chinese came from the character writing system, something that strongly appealed to my creative side. Likewise I hope to specialize in product design within the field of Mechanical Engineering, where I can manipulate and breath life into things sprouting from my imagination. In addition, I view Chinese as a somewhat mechanical puzzle of a language. Without verb conjugations, much of the language must be contextualized to specify the meaning. It truly is complete memorization of words and sentence structures, and then you have the building blocks to create anything.

 

          While I do want a career that is more than translating and does in fact involve engineering, I treasure my Asian studies and know that my hard-earned fluency will serve me well in both professional and personal endeavors. The perspective I have gained through making and maintaining international friendships, and simply attempting to learn how another person, another culture, sees the world, is priceless. I feel more able to meet people halfway, and adapt my expectations or prejudices about things that I think I already know. The sense of self-confidence, community, failure, and success that I experienced in China has allowed me to achieve more personal growth in a summer than I thought possible. I have no doubt that my study of Chinese language and various Asian countries will inevitably influence my future career. I am more interested in my engineering work creating a global impact, as I am struck with the realization that I have the potential to impact lives as wonderfully complex as mine not just in my immediate community, but around the world.