We are honored to have Guest Blogger Huang Mei-Ling  help us launch “Our Voices” a new series featuring stories from adoption community members. Visit Mei-Ling at her blog Shadow Between Two Worlds. For more information about Adoption Mosaic Bloggers click here>> The following is an excerpt from her full story. To read Mei-Ling’s full story click here>>.

Phrasebooks are pretty useful for travel dialogue. Unfortunately, they aren’t exactly loaded with dialogues meant for an adult adoptee who has returned to her birth country.

After watching my siblings tease each other in the front seat for a few minutes, I take another deep breath and try to ask another question, speaking slowly and as clearly as possible. “Women hen kuai hui jia ma?” Will we be returning home soon?

My father glances at me. I wonder what he is thinking of me so far, what he thinks of my pitiful Mandarin and my overall receptiveness while in their midst. I wonder what he thinks of me – his daughter from over twenty years ago. “Hen kuai, dui.” Soon, yes.

Fear threatens to overwhelm me and my vision blurs again, indicating that emotionally I am at my breaking point. Intellectually I know I am safe, I know I am with people who will take care of me, but being surrounded by shop signs that I cannot read, a dialect that I do not decipher and pronunciations that my mouth will not enunciate is not an encouraging feeling.

I soon discovered that once we were in their residence that communication was not as difficult in context, aided by body language. My first few days were an incredible strain because I had not expected the local dialects to be spoken so quickly. I had taken classes and done some language exchanges, so I knew Mandarin would be spoken at a much faster pace than what my previous experiences indicated, but it was still a shock and complete readjustment when the reality surrounded me… My dictionary – and recalling the grammar syntax I had absorbed from my textbooks – saved my life, allowing me to communicate basic needs…

In some ways, the language barrier gave some fairly comedic moments, as my siblings had to act out things. In other ways, it remained a nuisance more than anything, particularly when I could not clarify about family photos very well because of my accent. Sometimes I could ask simple questions and use body language to compensate for when my accent made my Mandarin incomprehensible, but that didn’t always mean I could understand the responses.

Perhaps what remains the biggest obstacle pertaining to this barrier is the heartache at not being able connect emotionally – not having the memories of this family, being locked out linguistically, and feeling as though any chance at rebuilding a relationship is based on my Mandarin survival skills.

But if given the chance to do it again, to step back onto the plane and return, to go through that moment of terror where I truly did not think things would be “okay”, to navigate my way as a long-lost family member, would I do it?

Absolutely.