I don't know how to work my Chinese cell phone. My mother's friend gave it to me. My mom and I loaded it up with only about 50 minutes worth of chitchat, so it's really not a "fun talky-talky texty-texty" kind of thing. It's really just for the peeps around here to call me up so we can get drunk. Obviously, I am ABSOLUTELY kidding. It's really just for the peeps around here to call me so that we can meet up for Chinglish lessons. (Yup, that's how I roll.) I only know how to answer the phone. I have no idea how to check text messages or voicemail. I might not even know how to call people; I haven't tried yet.
I don't know how to use the phone because everything on it is in Chinese. (Duh.) The only thing I understand is when I first turn on the phone, a little cartoon man floats up with balloons. That's it. And I kind of understand the time. But even that is confusing because it's in military time.
I think I got three missed calls today. Maybe. I'm not sure. There are a lot of Chinese characters on the screen and a number 3. Crap.
I only know how to pick up the phone.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
I don't know how to work my Chinese cell phone.
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As all of you know, China (and more specifically, Taiwan) is a big part of my heritage. My mother was born in China but raised in Taipei, Taiwan. (FYI, my father was born in Philadelphia but raised in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida. So kind of the same.) All of my mother's immediate family still resides in Taipei: my grandparents, my aunt, my uncle, their children and their children's children. I'm going to Taipei this summer for seven full weeks (from May 28-July 15) to live with them, become familiar with their Taiwan lifestyle and finally learn to speak some Mandarin.
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