Expatriate language proficiency is one of the things which has changed for the better in Beijing over the past 15 years or so of my residency. When I first arrived, anything beyond “Ni Hao” was greeted with such overzealous compliments of linguistic proficiency they would have made even a young Matteo Ricci blush. Now you get kids off the plane who have been studying Mandarin since third grade and are busting out chengyu in between their craft beer orders. I have no problems with that. Makes Beijing a better place.
But the general upgrade in the language skills of the expatriate population can also result in awkward moments. You know what I’m talking about. You go to order your coffee. The barista says, “Hello.” You say, “Ni hao.” She says, “Ni yao shenme,” and you say, “Double Latte, no foam,” and the conversation descends into the depths of linguistic anarchy.
Now you get kids off the plane who have been studying Mandarin since third grade and are busting out chengyu in between their craft beer orders