Languages

The Academic Bookstore stands on the Esplanade in Helsinki. During the summer, the Esplanade is a beautiful place to walk. A park runs through the center. Street musicians perform on the sidewalk. Everyone looks happy.

I sat inside the Academic reading a book on Finns. A blond man walked up to me and, in perfect Mandarin, asked me if I was Chinese. His accent was flawless - at least, as far as a non-speaker like me could tell. (Although, to bolster the credibility of my claim, I should add that I grew up hearing Chinese, even if I can't speak it myself.) "From China?" he asked. "No," I said, in English. "American."

"Ahh." He smiled nervously and hurried away. Was I more threatening as an American than as a Chinese tourist? Was he embarrassed at his mistake? Nonplussed at my appearance and seemingly contradictory claim? And where had he learned to speak Chinese like that?

I've been to many cities around the world, but Helsinki holds a special place in my heart. It's comfortable, and peaceful, and clean. I could see myself living there, at least during the summers. Maybe I should learn to speak Chinese.