“Liang zai, lei you di ma ye?”
   

“Bottle of coke, please.” I chose to reply shop keeper’s Cantonese in standard Mandarin.
   

I have lived in Guangzhou for more than 18 years and unfortunately I cannot even speak Cantonese, another “official” language in this city. The reason I cannot speak it is not because I did not try to learn it, but is because my early experience and impression on Cantonese bothered me a lot.
   

I was born in Guangzhou but none of my relative is a native Cantonese speaker. Although I can speak Mandarin, the official language I my country fluently, I felt like living in two completely different worlds in this city, where Cantonese seems to be the official language here.
   

When I was about five, I went to a kindergarten that was run by local citizens and nearly all of the teachers and students were native Cantonese speakers. Since it has been a long time since the government started to support only Mandarin in education, I thought speaking Mandarin fluently would help me to fit in with my classmates in kindergarten easily. On the first day of school, I went to the school with great joy, longing to make good friends there. However, things went exactly opposite as I expected. Both children and teachers around me were speaking something like English or French, which I had no idea what they were talking about. I had to step aside and wait silently every time when they were talking. And when I was about to say something, they stopped talking and stared at me at the same time and switched to Mandarin, the language I spoke, and asked “What were you saying?” Each when I got a chance to speak in Mandarin, the conversation could not last for more than 3 minutes and then would be led back to the native language that I just could not understand. I, at the age of five, felt as if I am a disability and when it comes to communicating, all children should stop talking out loud and use sign language to talk to me instead. All the other children and even teachers needed to care about me and think about my disability in speaking their native language all the time. Gradually, I felt like I would never be able to talk with someone else in a natural way.
   

I did not think this situation of living like a disabled person should last any longer. Thus, I tried my best to learn and understand Cantonese. Every time when teachers or children talked to each other in Cantonese, I forced myself to be a good audience. I memorized every word they said and the tones they spoke, even the curse words. The most interesting fact is that the first Cantonese word I understood and fluently used has the same meaning as the English curse word that starts with an F.
   

When I finally graduated from kindergarten, I was able to understand almost every Cantonese word people said due to my exceeding hard-work and curiosity. However, the situation of being an outsider did not change at al. I was still unable to say any long sentences or try to explain anything fluently and clearly in Cantonese. Therefore, when others shouted at me in Cantonese, I felt like I was a mute, which was even worse than being a deaf like I used to be. I could understand what people were talking about, but I could not explain or respond to them. Of all people around me, my music teacher in primary school did that a lot and I inevitable hated it when she did that.
   

“Zihao, Please stand up and tell me what is the rhythm of this part?” she pointed me with her baton, with “I don’t believe you know that” written on her face.
   

I felt awkward because I really did not know the answer. So I had to answer “I don’t know”, knowing that she would definitely say something that is really unpleasant to hear.
   

“Ha” the teacher grinned, “So why don’t you listen to my carefully? Lei a ma bei qin lei li wan ga? Tong o kei ju hai go mun hao dou.”
   

As I expected, she said something harsh in Cantonese. I could understand that she meant “Your mom does not pay you for having fun in school. And get over to the door side and stand there for rest of the class.” But I could not explain anything in Cantonese to her. I felt shameful and humiliated because she knew I could not answer in Cantonese. She did that on purpose. Not only me, but few other non-native Cantonese speakers were treated in this way, while the children who were native Cantonese speakers were always spoken to in fluent Mandarin.
   

“Zhangwei, lei xiong hou qi kui gem kei hai guo mun hao dou a? tong ow fa di tai xu la lei.” My music teacher did not stop rebunking in Cantonese. She threatened Zhangwei if he did not answer the question, he would be standing at the door side like me. Zhangwei was another non-native speaker just like me. Zhangwei and I were good friend at school just because we both hated people like our music teachers who rebuke others in a language they can easily understand but can hardly reply to. Therefore Zhangwei looked down angrily and curse back in Mandarin.
   

Two minutes later, there were two boys standing at the door side: me and Zhang.
   

I spent about ten years in my life guessing what native Cantonese speakers are talking about or accepting their curses. Things changed when I entered middle school, where the sue of Mandarin was more seriously valued. However, ten years living under the great pressure of Cantonese did not make me get used to it but instead made me afraid of it. Now I cannot even speak Cantonese better than English. What’s more, visiting Cantonese-speaking places totally freaks me out. I don’t like visiting HongKong or even old districts in Guangzhou town, where Cantonese is widely used. Living like a deaf and a mute makes me feel like a rat in sewer, trying to avoid any communication that involves Cantonese. Moreover, I will never forget my music teacher. I’d like to thank her for ruining my  longing to speaking Cantonese.
   

Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t spend my ten years in that way, I might be an expert in Cantonese right now. Learning languages, after all, cannot be done by an individual. Instead it is a process that requires help and support from others, especially native speakers. Lack of such valuable help, I never successfully learned Cantonese.