So we're in Beijing, my Hong Kong friend and I. Our purpose here is to study Putonghua for a week and a half, she at the advanced level, and me - the overseas Chinese - as a beginner.
After the first day of a four-hour one-on-one class, we compare notes. In an effort to build up her vocabulary, she says, she and her teacher discuss mainland politics, history and crime.
'We talked about triads, the Cultural Revolution and Mao,' she gushes. 'We never learned much of this in school. Must be the colonial education,' she sniffs.
My class is progressing at a different level. My teacher is a patient, cuddly man with thick white eyebrows. After I learn the mandatory 'Nin gui xing? ' (What is your name?), and 'Wo bu hui shuo Putonghua' (I can't speak Putonghua), he begins to conduct drills.
Outside the classroom, the seemingly ample opportunities to practise Putonghua are restricted.
An overseas Chinese who speaks no more than threadbare Putonghua phrases would likely be charged an amount appallingly more than a Hong Kong Chinese fluent in the dialect (who would now, supposedly, be considered the same as mainland Chinese).