Observing from within- language and conversation

They're all speaking Cantonese. I can tell they're having fun- the smiles, the good-natured banter, the back-and-forward exchanges are universal language for good times and friendship. I'm sitting in the hairdressers, as this friendly yabber ebbs and flows around me, my hair shrouded in plastic and clips as the potion works its magic on the silver-and-brown-and-blonde mess of locks. I don't mind that I can't understand the words, because the other language I can understand- I've heard it in Australian salons. They're speaking of their kids, of the weather, of current events and politics. They're sharing happy occasions and joking about the strangeness of life.

Cantonese sounds nice to us. It isn't as harsh as Mandarin, and sometimes it flows so smoothly, I have to listen carefully to make sure they're not speaking Malay. The lady's voice is louder, higher and harsher, but the young man has a deep, soporific voice, and at this late stage of the afternoon, I close my eyes drowsily. I haven't heard many deep voices in Malaysia, and when I do, my attention is always drawn to them.

There is only one conversation now, and as all three of them laugh, I wonder what was said. I'm enjoying my separation, the detachment that comes from not being able to understand, and am appreciating the privilege of observing from outside. They don't expect me to join in, and I make no attempt to do so.

The same observation from within occurs at netball. Even though I can't play until I have my knee repaired, I still go now and then to see my friends. I sit amongst them, watching and listening as they yabber in Malay about family and home, schools and community. Unlike the Chinese, I pick up snippets of the Malay, usually only an isolated word or two, and rarely understanding enough to follow the gyst of the conversation. Unlike the conversation in the salon, however, I don't sit and observe contentedly. I am trying to learn more Malay, and I want to join in. I get frustrated at the speed they talk, and annoyed at myself for not understanding more. These are my friends and I want to know what is happening in their lives, and I want them to take the time to explain slowly and carefully. It's not that I get left out altogether- Asma will explain  in English when I ask- it's that I want to be a part of the conversation, not an aside to the conversation. For now, I'll keep doing our twice-weekly English/ Bahasa Melayu lessons (I teach the lab ladies English, they help me with Bahasa Melayu), and I'll keep practicing and learning, and maybe one day soon I will surprise them all when I join in. Until then, I'll be the privileged outsider observing from within.