Ethan Robertson: Chinese TV sensation Part 1

The picture you see above requires a bit of explanation. It all started when I received a text from my program director here at CET. It said, "There is this English-Chinese translation competition TV show coming up, do you want to be a judge?" I have never replied to a text faster in my whole life, "Yes, I came to China to be on TV. I am so incredibly in."

That was on a Sunday, and I spent the rest of that week wondering exactly what would happen. You see, there are certain things a foreigner must realize if they have agreed to go on Chinese television. First of all, you must accept the Chinese view of foreigners is that we are like cute puppies lost in their country. They want to help us, but they also want some entertainment out of us. There is really is no malice in this, but the result of this is that most foreigners on TV are made to wear a Mao costume, or asked to sing a Bruce Springsteen song. This is what was floating through my mind throughout the week before. As it turned out, it was much worse than that.

I was at work on Friday afternoon, when I opened an email from my program director. I was expecting directions on how to get to the TV studio, but instead I got a bit of a game changer. The kind of game changer that makes you want to throw up.  Here is the important part.

"Ethan, William, and Alex, my friend Shen-ying will email you shortly with specifics on Sunday's TV show. As I told you before, you would be contestants not judges as you originally agreed to. You are under no obligation to participate whatsoever..."

I just sat at my desk, trying not to fold over due to the stomach cramp I had instantly developed. Being a judge is one thing. A judge has instant respect and credibility. I could just mess around if I was a judge. But being a contestant is a whole other world of possible embarrassment.

It really only got worse from there. As if I wasn't nervous enough, I received a phone call at 7:51 AM the next from "Bill" of the Shanghai Association of Interpreters who wanted to explain to me the contests rules and format. Let me start by asking this, what kind of serial killer calls someone, let alone a 21 year-old, at 7:51 on a Saturday morning? That is just criminal. I listened groggily as Bill outlined the day. 

The contest would have three rounds. In the first round, the challenger (that would be me) will have the opportunity to pick two of the people in stage with which to compete. The picture at the top of the page gives you an idea of what I mean. The three contestants would listen to a twenty second clip. This clip could either be English or Chinese, and then we were to translate it into the other language.

Round two consists of a actual interpreting. That means sitting between a Canadian and a Chinese man as they discuss a possible business deal, translating for one, and then the other. This is actually a little easier than the first section, to be honest.

Round three is the same format, except this time it is a man with a Pakistani accent and a Chinese man with a strong north China accent. This is slightly more difficult.

Just as I was about to hang up with Bill, he said one last thing that nearly made me poop my pants.

"There is also a talent portion of the competition. Please prepare a three minute performance that will be shown before the competition. If you think you are funny, perhaps you could prepare some stand-up comedy!" 

Sorry, Bill, could you run that by me again? That's right, 24 hours before I am to participate in this tragedy, I am told that I have to prepare a "talent." Oh joy...

I wasn't getting back to sleep after I heard that, so I got up and proceeded to waste about four hours watching YouTube videos while getting over a headache. Eventually, however, I had to face the reality that I had less than a day to figure out what to do for three minutes on stage. I began to brainstorm, but I quickly realized that I had no good ideas.

I lay in bed feeling bad for myself until my roommate came home. Seeing my distress, he came up with the idea that I should read a few poems on stage. It was like a ray of light came down from on high. Thank you, you wonderful little Buddha of a roommate. I set about finding my two poems. The ones I landed on were by Li Bai, arguably China's most famous poet, and they were some of his most famous poems. They can be seen here and here. Having read them, you will probably understand when I tell you that these are basically children's poems. I was used to memorizing 5 minute presentations every week back in Beijing, so I didn't worry too much about it. That may have been a mistake...