My first impression of America is that everyone in the country always says the opposite of what
they mean.

Sept. 1, 2019, was my first day in America. I was on campus for my high school’s opening day. That night, I was in my room with my roommate. We were both bubbling with excitement for the upcoming first day of our freshman year, and as 14-year-old teenage girls, there was nothing more perplexing than picking out an outfit for the first day of high school. I desperately needed my roommate’s judgment on a pair of black leather slippers. Were they too formal? Were they too bulky?

The moment I pulled out the slippers, my roommate’s mouth snapped open. 

“Oh my gosh, these are so sick!” She lingered on the “sick,” pronouncing it louder than the preceding words.

I took the comment as an insult. I didn’t know exactly what she meant by “so sick,” but I knew that “sick” as an adjective is synonymous with “ill.” Bottom line: “sick” is never associated with anything positive. So, by extension, when she commented that my slippers looked sick, she must be suggesting that the slippers look hideous.

I had fallen silent as these thoughts were coursing through my mind. I was a little offended by what I perceived to be her rudeness. My expression must have synchronized with my emotional turbulence, for my roommate immediately started to explain herself.

“Oh my gosh, no, not at all! I meant that your shoes look amazing!”

At that moment, I was certain that she was lying. A month later at brunch, I heard a friend at my table saying the term to another friend when commenting on her upcoming ski trip. Being a good friend, I jokingly pointed out that the “so sick” comment was a little rude. To my surprise, the friend whom I was standing up for showed no appreciation for my righteousness.

“C’mon, I was totally standing up for you.” I was a little bewildered.

“Ok. But Margaret was saying that my ski trip sounds amazing. Did you interpret ‘so sick’ literally?”

My friend went on educating me about “that’s sick.” Apparently, “so sick” doesn’t mean something is sick; it means that something is amazing. My roommate wasn’t lying.

***

Two months into my freshman year, I noticed the awkwardness that always accompanies the phrase “that’s interesting.” Both the speaker and the recipient never show much joy at the utterance of the phrase. For example, I once witnessed a Lionel Messi fan avidly speaking to a Cristiano Ronaldo fan about how Messi crushed Ronaldo in the latest soccer game. The Ronaldo fan said, “That’s interesting.” The conversation between the two fans cooled upon the utterance of the phrase. But I never paid much thought to the effect of the phrase. At that point, I found it impressive that the Ronaldo fan could restrain his passion when his idol is being somewhat insulted and instead be open to differing perspectives. I thought the phrase just meant the speaker was interested in what the other person was saying, until I spoke with my advisor over Zoom in 2020.

It was spring break and I was staying at a family friends’ place. My advisor called me to check in on how everything was going. While we were talking, she told me about how her daughter’s calculator had problems functioning properly and the immense trouble her husband took to fixing it.

“That’s interesting,” I responded because I genuinely thought that the process she described
was fascinating.

My advisor frowned.

“No, we had to take everything apart,” she reiterated.

There must be a negative connotation behind the phrase for my advisor to be reacting so strangely. Quora confirmed my suspicion. “That’s interesting” is often used to express disagreement.

***

“That sounds amazing. I’ll think about it and let me get back to you.”

During the summer of my freshman year, I started a club called Life on the Hill. The club produces videos about life at my high school, and our Fall 2020 feature was a 76-second interview with an incoming international student. From her response, I was sure that she was as in love with the idea as I.

Two weeks elapsed with no response from her.

How long does it take her to think about filming a video for a school club? I was confused, but I comforted myself that she was just a little nervous about having her video on the internet. After all, my club’s videos get an average of 1500 views on Instagram.

Another two weeks elapsed with no response.

I couldn’t wait anymore. The club was rolling out the video next week.

I called her and texted her. Each time, she gave me ambiguous responses. Gradually, I realized that “I’ll think about it and get back to you” is just a facade for “I won’t give the idea a second thought because I hate it, and I wouldn’t like to speak with you again about it.

Throughout my first year in America, I considered America to be radically different from China. I couldn’t understand their culture of preceding negative comments with positive ones. They might not say everything they’re thinking to be polite. But whatever they say can be interpreted literally. But now, going into my third year in the country, I’m starting to realize the similarities between America and China.

Sure, they have many differences. As Richard Conrad points out in Culture Hacks, Americans precede criticism with compliments, while Chinese people always start with the negative. Ultimately, Americans being euphemistic is the same as how the Chinese try to save face. Americans imply what they truly mean to save the other person’s face. Had the international student told me that she hated my idea in front of our friends, she would have embarrassed me in front of people.

Of course, I still haven’t figured out everything about America. There remains copious space of exploration in grammar (my writing still contains many awkward phrases) and humor (I don’t laugh at “The Office”). Nevertheless, my past two years in America truly broadened my horizons and permitted me to look beyond what was familiar.