JULY 30 — After a decade of putting it off, I am finally learning a third language. The road has been long and twisty, no thanks to my having the attention span of an average pre-teen. Brief flirtations with French, unsuccessful dalliances with Spanish, a hesitant stab at Norwegian and I am now attempting Mandarin.

I’ve always been rather hesitant about Mandarin as the Romance languages seemed... easier. Unfortunately Italian and Spanish (and Norwegian) are on the backburner as I still cannot roll my Rs properly.

And there is the nonsensical fear that people will think I am trying to be Chinese. Now why would anyone think that?

Well, most of my friends are Chinese. My favoured local cuisine? Chinese.

My favourite edition of The Voice? The Voice of China. My favourite female singer? Faye Wong who primarily records in Chinese dialects.

My ex-boyfriend (Chinese... do you see a pattern?) makes fun of my “Jinjang” taste when I watch Chinese reality shows like I Am A Singer.

Then there’s my mother who is incredibly bigoted about Chinese people. (And Dusuns. And Bugis. And anyone who isn’t her).

Mom on why I wasn’t allowed to go to USM: “Too many Chinese.”

Mom’s advice about Chinese men: “Don’t marry one. You’ll never see him, he’ll be too busy working.”

Mom’s comments about my friends: “Why are your friends all Chinese? They’ll lead you astray!”

The kicker here is that my mother was raised by her Chinese grandmother. I imagine my great-grandmother probably had some personal vendetta against her own kin which led to her marrying my great-grandfather and renouncing her own blood.

Come to think of it, in a way my great-grandmother was a lot like Ridhuan Tee.

But here’s the kicker, no matter what language I chose, people would probably have made assumptions anyway. I didn’t want to learn Chinese when I was still with my boyfriend because I didn’t want people to think I was learning it for anyone but myself. Well, we’re not an item anymore so that’s settled, then, isn’t it?

In Malaysia, though, language is so much about identity. English is still called “bahasa penjajah” (coloniser’s language) in some circles though I think it’s just badly misguided nationalism.

I got into an argument with a woman online because she was bemoaning how so many so-called Malaysians could not speak the national language. To be fair, I think that’s pretty terrible too but the way she argued it, saying that these people were still not “Merdeka di hati” (acknowledged Merdeka in their hearts).

And it didn’t help she expressed herself in the terrible abbreviated Malay version of textspeak that uses “x” instead of “tak”, “uols” instead of “you all” to the point I was not sure what language she was conversing in.

Many of my “banana” Chinese friends see no need to learn a dialect. When I told one that since she ate at food stalls so often she could at least learn to count in Cantonese, her simple reply was “Never!”

I was in the wrong there. You should learn or use a language because you want to. Because it’s useful to you. Because you like using it. Because there are people you want to speak it with.

If I had the time, I’d want to learn all the languages out there. But I have limited time so I’ll choose the one that will bring me joy and benefits in the long and short-term.

I’d like to be able to stop badgering my friends to translate what The Voice of China judges are saying.

I’d like to be able to pay for my meals with correct change at hawker stalls without just pushing an RM20 note and hoping for change.

I’d like to be able to check out leaks and briefings on all those “insider” Chinese tech blogs without resorting to Google Translate.

I’d like to watch my director friend Edmund Yeo’s films without needing subtitles.

And I’d like to have language be free of the prejudices and political subtext we have here. We have to acknowledge our kids need to learn English and it will take them further than merely knowing our national language. And that you shouldn’t shame anyone for not knowing their supposed mother tongues.

In the meantime, I’ll be spending quality time with my iPad language apps and perhaps soon I’ll stop accidentally calling my mother a horse in Mandarin.

* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.