Just add some oil

Slang is awfully fun. It's all that and a bag of chips. (Non-native English speakers are at this moment asking themselves, “Slang is awful or fun? It comes with chips?”) Here are some common but confusing idioms: kicking the bucket, telling the difference, beating someone to the punch, getting one’s goat, giving someone a hand, and hitting the sack. What sets apart a purely academic student of foreign language from someone who has actual experience abroad is not just fluidity of speech and cultural experience, but also an understanding of appropriate idioms and slang. A purely academic student might ask, “What did the bucket ever do to you?” or “What am I supposed to say to the difference?” Despite the access ramp for confusion, language becomes more interesting by using these colorful expressions - rather than continually dying, differentiating, doing something first, becoming annoyed, helping, and going to sleep, respectively.

Knowing the usefulness and value of slang, it is incredibly satisfying for me to hear my level 5 (advanced) students recite, “Hey man, chill out.” This phrase is quite useful to them, as many Asians destined for America end up in California. Since it isn’t too much of a stretch to stereotype outspoken Californians with an obsession for anti-Bush rhetoric tantamount to inducing minor injury – like a sudden cranial implosion – the phrase “chill out” is then both academically instructive and applicable. (A cranial “explosion” first came to mind, but due to a physical vacuum in the brains of radical leftists – discovered in 2001 by the eminent Ukrainian physicist R.U. Seryus – an implosion seemed more scientifically plausible).

Here in the Republic of China, one prevalent piece of slang is the term “Jyahyo,” which literally means, “add oil.” The meaning comes out as “keep it up” or “drive on.” I propose that this popular phrase is symbolic of a fundamental thought process among the Chinese: “When something goes wrong, one shouldn’t waste time analyzing strategies or consequences of action. Get in there now and do something about it!” This line of thinking is not unlike a comical scenario regarding faulty car engines. Some guys will pop the hood - ignoring the existence of an driver's manual - scrutinize the alien wiring for a little while, blow on the spark plugs, then yell back to their wives, “Try it now!” Some of the hasty actions over here have amounted to little more than a brisk puff of breath.

For example, during our time in California I heard this story from a Taiwanese woman involved with our training: an Asian city wanted to install a mass rapid transit system, like that of Taipei’s MRT. They started excavating, and were nearly through the initial stage before they realized that it wasn’t possible to dig in that area, and that they had to start all over. The Chinese aren’t so many thinkers as dreamers, she told me. They are a visionary people, but sometimes the short term can be lost with a lack of planning.

While I haven’t experienced this method of problem solving to any earth-shattering result, I've seen it to a lesser degree many times. Almost like throwing money at problems (or, perhaps taking a leaf-blower to an insubordinate car engine), the Taiwanese like to “add oil” to squeaky problems, hoping they will just go away. We Westerners, despite perhaps a desire not to be "noisy foreigners," have to step in sometimes and point out the (supposedly) obvious truth that certain plans aren’t going to work.

One must be careful to do so in a Christ-like and inoffensive way, in order to “save face” and save feelings. So if you ever make it to Taiwan or China, think carefully before you comment or give advice. And try not to slip on the oil.