I’m not sure if typing ‘English <=> Chinese’ into Google translate’s website counts as using Artificial Intelligence, but if it does, I’m here for it.

#114 Communicate in Chinese (or 用中文交流 for the aficionados)

During a recent Friends Quest in the on-line language program Duolingo where I’m trying to improve my French, I noticed that the player with whom I was occasionally paired—who from his picture appeared to be of Chinese origin—changed his nickname frequently from one set of incomprehensible Chinese characters to another.

Intriguing. To date, I’d not noticed anyone else changing their name on Duolingo.

Why would he do this? Was he giving himself the name of a Chinese Superhero, perhaps, or was this a secret game he was playing, a game that non-Chinese speakers couldn’t join?

So I took a screen shot of my new friend’s latest name change and copied it into Google translate, only to discover he was indulging in something much deeper than a frivolous nickname upgrade.

He was making an existential comment on his life:

Now my interest was well and truly piqued.

Several weeks later, when we were paired for a Friends Quest again, I noticed he’d given himself a brand new moniker.

I wondered if he were feeling any happier now the worst of winter was over.

Not a bit of it.

Whoa!

<i hate winter> was clearly unhappy with the team running Duolingo and wanted them to know it.

A couple of weeks later, his nickname became more pointed:

---

One of the drawbacks of these Friends Quests is that your success is quite dependent on which partner Duolingo assigns you. It’s like those awful school group projects where if you were the pathetically conscientious one, you ended up doing the brunt of the work.

And so it was becoming with my new friend <i hate winter>.

Together we had to complete 20 lessons to be rewarded, but it was looking like bunnykins here was doing most of the heavy lifting:

Hoping to encourage <i hate winter>, I changed my own name from the prosaic <Carolyn> to <我们做得到> which translates to <we can do it>.

At least, I hope that’s what is says.

I thought this might be all the encouragement <i hate winter> needed to complete a couple more perfect lessons.

Not a chance. Instead, my friend changed his nickname—and his photograph—again, to something I didn’t have to worry about putting into Google translate:

I guess this is an excellent insight for a native Chinese speaker to have, but it didn’t help me.

Our next pairing became even more unbalanced:

GRRR!

So when another friend on Duolingo — one whom I know in real life— sent me this text message …

… I realised it was time to call it quits.

As Duolingo is now letting me choose who my new quest friend will be, I’ve decided to give <i hate winter> the flick.

The friendship that had burned so brightly is over now.

As they say, exploit me once, that’s on you, exploit me twice, I’m the idiot.

I’ve moved on to a better friend now. Someone who sticks with their nickname through thick and thin.

And someone who really understands the Yin and Yang of group projects.