shi’er yue shi’qi hao rijiben

This post is part of a new series I'm going to do, which will probably constitute the bulk of my posts for the next month or so. Because I'm so pressed for time and energy during this busy work season, I'm going to post my Chinese homework.

This is my self-assigned rijiben (日记本, journal). To give you an idea what's going on: first I quickly outline my day in bulleted English; then on my computer I roughly compose the text you see below in pinyin (拼音, Latinized Chinese pronunciations); after which I handwrite it, this time with tone markings (which are beyond annoying to insert on my computer, hence why they're absent below); and finally review with my teacher for grammar and vocabulary.

Since the pinyin I type in OSX TextEdit has no tone markings and will therefore be pretty much incomprehensible to everyone, this series will primarily amount to an art project. If you're someone who is curious what the general letters and sounds of Chinese look like in English, then you'll probably dig this extra hard. Enjoy!

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wo zuotian xiuxi yinwei wo hai youdian bing[le], ranhou wo jintian zaoshang ganjue geng jiankang.
shi’yi dian wo shangban. dang wo qi zixingche de shihou, wo zheme leng wo toutengle.
wo daole yihou, wo faxian wo jieshoule yizhang youdide heka.
zhezhang cong wo nupengyou fale, suoyi wo feichang gaoxingle.
[zai] heka limian shi yige xin, [which is that] wo nupengyou feichang xiang wo.
ranhou wo gei ta fa weixin gaosu ta wo jieshoule tade heka, ranhou ta ye hen kaixin.
ranhou, wo tongshi gaosu wo [that] womende di san ge[usage] xuesheng jieshoule tade “college acceptance letter”[vocab, see Sat class notes].
zhege xinxi feichang hao, yinwei ta xian yinggai nian nage daxue[le], suoyi women buyao gei ta zuo [ling]gengduo gongzuo.
ranhou wo bangzhu wode xuesheng, jiao Jin Shaoming, kaishi xie tade xiayizhang[usage] daxue shenqingde wenzhang.
guo yihuir[vocab] women tongshimen cong bangongshide fuwuyuanmen dou jieshoule hen duo tiande liwu, keneng yinwei shengdanjie kuaiyao dao.
xiawu wo zuo[de] hen mang.
liu dian yidian[usage] yihou wo chuqu wo fudao yingwende xuesheng.
hai youdian leng, danshi wo qi zixingche dao ta Xintiandide bangongshi.
women zhejieke dasuan taolun yingwen[de] keshumingci, danshi tongku hui wo duzi, suoyi women tongyi[de] xiakele.
ranhou wo hui wo ziji[de] bangongshi.
guo yihuir[vocab] wo ting zai chuanr fanguan jie wode wanfan.
dang wo diancaide shihou, wo faxianle naxie doufu chuanr shi bingde
(yinwei tamen baitian zuo tamende chuanr, ranhou lengdong[de] yihuir mai).
dui wo lai shuo zhege dongxi feichang haoxiao, suoyi wo gaosule laoban:
“nimen zheli you bingkuai chuanr!”
ta juede wode xiaohua duoshao haoxiao, suoyi wo hen manyile.
haole.

GiT: Escalator warnings

I don't think I need to explicate these for you any more :)

Gained in Translation (4): Upscale Apartment Ad

"Where you belong, belongs to you." This one must be some kind of Zen koan. Perhaps the place where you belong rightfully belongs to you, but you don't realize it yet. Or maybe the place that already belongs to you is where you belong. The more ways I try to think about it, the weirder the word "belong" sounds in my head.

你会中文啊! Part 1: Pinyin and Radicals

Probably the most intimidating thing for me in beginning to study Chinese was to adjust to the idea of a writing system that is non-alphabetical. Chinese writing is based on characters, each of which represents not just one letter worth of sound but a whole syllable. In addition to a sound each character also has a range of possible meanings.

For Westerners, the process of learning Chinese is made easier by 拼音 (pin1yin1) which is a Latinized, phonetic version of Chinese (the numbers after the pinyin indicate tone; we'll discuss tones in the next post). Pinyin helps you start speaking Chinese without having to learn any characters.

Now, if you want to really get around effectively within China (i.e. be able to read anything at all), you need to start recognizing some characters. Some characters can stand alone as words, for example 是 (shi4) meaning "to be" (i.e. "is/am/are"). Most however show up combined into words of two or more characters. Note that the Chinese don't use spaces between words. They aren't necessary for comprehension and they waste a lot of space on page and screen.

Now that we have an idea of how characters function, let's introduce the concept of the radical. A radical is a fundamental and simple shape that when stuck together with other radicals forms a whole character. Note that radicals do not work like letters; you cannot just stick radicals together to make new characters on the fly. Rather, radicals exist as the building blocks you use when physically drawing a character. In this way, knowing the radicals is helpful for remembering the characters.

Look at the title of this post: 你会中文啊 (ni3 hui4 zhong1wen2 a5), meaning "You can do Chinese!" If we look closely the characters look like this:

ni3 hui4 zhong1wen2 a5

I know from experience that at first this looks completely inaccessible. How do you possibly read this without memorizing every single character? The answer is... well, you don't. But the radical system acts as a helpful mnemonic for you to make guesses about a character's meaning or pronunciation. There are 214 radicals in the traditional systemization; below I've highlighted 2 from the above sentence:

The one in red I think is easiest to see. This is 口 (kou3), meaning "mouth" or "opening." You see it standing on its own in words like 出口 (chu1kou3) "exit," and 门口 (men2kou3) "doorway." Here it is as a building block in two different characters, 中 (zhong1) "middle," and 啊 (a5) which actually doesn't have a meaning other than to convey emphasis, sort of like an exclamation point "!".

The radical in green may look strange because it has two different shapes. This is 人 or 亻(ren2) and it means "person." Many radicals can be squashed to the top, bottom, or side of a character in this way; the way you know they are still the same radical is by how they are physically drawn.

Now, by some force of imagination you might picture how 你 (ni3) "you" contains the meaning of 亻"person." However in 会 (hui4) "to be able to," the connection to "person" is less obvious (in this case it's a "person" 人 on top of a "cloud" 云 (yun2)—what do you make of that?).

When learning the radicals you can't get too attached to the idea that they provide an easy path to understanding characters. They are a useful mnemonic, but their prime importance is in the physical drawing of characters. Sometimes they can be ridiculously clear, other times completely mysterious. Ultimately, they help a lot so it's important to learn them.

Shanghai is... (12)

Expat sidewalk bars. This one is called Dogtown on 陕西北路 (Shaanxi Bei Lu), just a block from my first Shanghai apartment:

Delicious Chicken Tacos and Beer.

Easy-to-move chairs and a sidewalk on a quiet street at night make for a comfortable temporary bar.

This is a rather slow night. The 4th of July here was really packed.

Gained in Translation (3): Shopping Bag

Capitalization and enjambment are crucial devices for creating meaning in poetry.

"ShangHai" is an unusual stylization, comparable to if you wrote "NewPort" in English. The extra emphasis on "Hai" (Sea) suggests approximately the same difference in stress as "seaside" versus "seaside." The absence of punctuation concludes the statement with an ambivalent tone; a period might be too neutral for a declaration of welcome, while an exclamation point would take up too much space.

"Evaded affection" at first evokes the pain of unrequited love, yet the connotation of "Evaded" demands closer inspection. One only evades what is aggressive or unwanted, so in fact this "affection" is far more than merely unrequited. This analysis leaves aside the beautiful and tragic left-justification of the lines, where "Evaded affection" seems to actually dodge to the left side. 

Furthermore, what are "pieces of the heart"? Are they emotions? Loving relationships? And why "pieces" of these pieces? Perhaps the poet is referring to the granular constituent parts of those larger pieces, e.g. gifts given or words uttered to beloved friends or family.

What does the author intend by separating "Thank you" from "Very Much," phrases that in normal use stand together? For one thing it emphasizes the two separate parts, especially the "Very much" which, having been given its own capital, takes on a range of meanings quite independent from "Thank you."

Of course, this is all just words on a plastic shopping bag.

I have the best job ever

Reading on the office roof deck in the sunshine.

Back in Argo's "slow season" when I started my job, I had few client meetings and lots of free time. Once the rainy season ended (and between typhoons) the weather was pleasant enough where I could sit outside and "develop my English reading curriculum."

For the record I did actually accomplish some work during this time, but I was so euphoric with vitamin D that I barely noticed.

Shanghai is... (11)

Tall, futuristic buildings that stand out from among their surroundings.

The contrast between past and future (can you guess which is which?)

"Skyscrapers."

Colors.

Alternative view of Pudong from Yangpu on a Tuesday night.

Computer restored!

It's fixed! Once I get my act together and sort through all the photos I took in July, expect a wave of new posts :)

Technical difficulties

I will not be able to post pictures indefinitely because my laptop is currently disabled. I will take this opportunity to work on text posts, and you can be assured of a stream of photo posts after my laptop gets fixed!

Apolitical Art (3)

I suppose if fish swimming together are a metaphor for Communism then this is a little political...

Apolitical Art (2)

Gained in Translation (2): Fake Mart Noodle Restaurant Ad

Is it bad to eat things besides money? Is it "money" in the colloquial sense of "excellent!" such that it is a lazily-punctuated warning that to eat in general is bad? Is it, rather than a sentence containing a recommendation ("It is not good to eat not money"), a descriptive phrase ("[thing being described is] not-good-to-eat not-money"), i.e. an advertisement saying "Here we have got some not-money which is rather not-good-to-eat? The possibilities are endless, and beautiful.

Shanghai is... (10)

... revolutionary cosmetic products:

Apolitical Art

There are actually more figures in positive here than there are in negative, which is pretty mind-blowing when you're standing next to it trying to put it back together.

Rainy Season, Day 5

It's really not that bad.

Shanghai is... (9)

... this relaxed yet hypermodern skyline. I love it so much.

Shanghai is... (8)

... sometimes giving up.

Shanghai is... (7)

... different cultural connotations:

Shanghai is... (6)

... surprising and creative flavors that make you think critically about your palate:

Classic Great Taste Mexican Tomato Chicken Flavor

Cool & Refreshing Cucumber Flavor

Classic Great Taste Italian Red Meat Flavor

Authentic Crispy French Fries... in a bag.

Shanghai is... (5)

... Bait Shop life skills coming through, at IKEA:

Post-checkout wrapping station.

Shanghai is... (4)

... urinal mirrors.

Shanghai is... (3)

... this color car:

Note the skull-face decal above the plate.

SPECIAL! Beijing is...

... a Peking Duck restaurant with themed yet tasteful table settings:

SPECIAL! Beijing is...

... manufacturer error.

Rainy Season Day 3

Living in Shanghai means coming to terms with the fact that neither you nor anything you own will ever be dry again.

Umbrella not 100% effective in keeping me dry on my walk to work.

These are usually a much lighter grey.

It's customary in offices, malls, etc. to offer people entering the building a plastic bag of some kind for their umbrella, to keep some of the water off the floors.

This is apparently happening somewhere in Shanghai (not near me) right now. (Photo credit Shanghai Daily)

Did you know? Shanghai gets about 25% more rain than Seattle every year. It's also much warmer than Seattle. They're not really similar cities at all.

Gained in Translation

Introduction

I think there is something beautiful and mystifying about the linguistic liminality of Chinese ideas rendered in English vocabulary.

Some call this Engrish: a failure of East Asians to translate their language into intelligible English idiom. Presumably this results either from the attempt to translate some Chinese idiom directly (direct translation between languages generally fails no matter the case), or from an attempt by the author to realize an imagined idea of English idiom for marketing purposes (so-called “decorative English,” like the Chinese walking around with shirts that just say something absurd like “ACNE”—yes I really saw this on some girl's shirt). To a native English speaker like myself, it is often unclear from which cause Engrish originates. But I think identifying the cause is besides the point. What interests me is the result — which either due to its bringing together available English terms in the attempt to render a not-easily-translatable Chinese idea, or by demonstrating the faulty ideas that Chinese have about English idiom — strikes me as a kind of profound poetry in its evocation of ideas foreign to standard English.

Anecdotal experience suggests that Americans regard this phenomenon silly; they find that the resulting language does not conform to their expectations of what idiomatic English looks like, and then right it off. And in truth, my point here is that these translations or “misuses” do fall short of idiomatic English—but where other people see nonsense, I see an opportunity for new meaning. Rather than strain to guess what the Chinese author meant to express in their original language, or laugh at how poorly they grasp “proper” English, I look in the between-space, at the original ideas made possible by the innocent malapropisms and syntax.

We could reach for the intended Chinese meaning, and guess perhaps that it would be something like “indulge your imagination”; but I find that uninspiring. Enjoying my imagination to me denotes the act of finding real pleasure in my imagination, for instance in the interior fantasy life and commentary that is constantly running parallel to my actual lived experiences. What would allow me to best enjoy my imagination thus conceived? Perhaps the relaxation afforded by grand physical comfort, as depicted.

This is just a brand name for facial tissues and possibly not a true case of translation error, but I think it is worth playing with anyhow. There are so many possibilities here: does my mind act upon yours, and yours upon mine? Does it do this directly through argumentation, or subtly through subconscious cues? Alternatively, what if a mind acts upon itself, honing its own operations and creating new attitudes and mental outcomes in a recursive process?

Student Essays

I notice that essays by our younger students (not unlike their American counterparts) are peppered with vocabulary that is contextually wrong, largely I believe a result of students clicking the “synonyms” button in MS Word. Yet, I find these “mistakes” amusing and full of possibility. Example: one student was describing being in a music recording studio, and used the phrase “sealed in a hermetic room.” Although English idiom gives me to understand that this use of hermetic is almost certainly not what the student is actually trying to describe, I find the description nonetheless poetic. The image of this poor 14 year old locked in a NASA airtight chamber, forced to perform his music, is moving in its metaphoricity.

Conclusion

Ultimately, I feel as though encountering these “mistakes” brings me back to my childhood, where hearing something new put into my head an image that was incongruous yet, to a child, perfectly sensible.

Shanghai is... (2)

... no friends awake when I am.

Shanghai is...

... repeatedly burning your tongue because 生检 are so much hotter on the inside.

生检 (sheng1jian1) are pan-fried steamed buns with a soupy meat filling. These are a local Shanghai specialty, eaten at all meals, especially breakfast. Think New York pizza level of ubiquity, and quality, and affordability (the 4 pieces pictured cost 6¥, just under $1).

Leaving for another planet

Earlier Mira remarked on how, in these remaining few days before I leave, we are both engrossed in reading SciFi novels set in space. I had thought about this myself. In Red Mars, the characters are on a one-way trip to Mars to establish the first human settlement. The characters struggle with loneliness, homesickness, and claustrophobia as they are trapped in their project. The similarities with my own upcoming journey are not lost on me; I expect that I will often feel alone despite being surrounded with people all the time. Yet, whereas for the Martian colonists there is no reasonable expectation of ever returning home, I am not going so far that I will never return home. It is this connection, home, that gives me strength to leave in the first place. It awes me, in fact, to think that my own ancestors emigrated from Italy, into an unknown certainly more harsh than Shanghai will be for me, presumably with no expectation of ever going back. They didn't have iMessage!

Meditation on the one-way ticket

I think paying my student loan debt each month has desensitized me to spending large amounts of money online. That, or something else is at work in keeping me from really internalizing the fact that I just bought a one-way ticket to China.

It's funny, a "one-way ticket" is a cliché, a trope, something so meaningful it has entered the lexicon and taken on a life beyond its literal meaning. Perhaps that post-practical, lexical existence is the reason I don't "feel it" yet.

Or, maybe, I do "feel it," and I just don't realize what "it" is. I read a Sociology paper once that argued that teens who smoke pot for the first time don't understand what being high is supposed to feel like—somehow they learn to process and feel the high by being with their friends. While I would question the validity of the findings, the paper's central argument has stuck with me as a fascinating example of how far we can go in questioning what it means to experience anything, what it means to feel, or to know.

Thus maybe I am already "high" on my one-way ticket, and I just don't recognize it yet. Certainly I have experience many changes of late in my behavior, changes in my attitudes, in my choices. Besides this trip, I can't think of any other major variables that would cause so many significant changes in my makeup. But I haven't felt the connection, as though I expected to channel it through my conscious mind and implement all those changes intentionally. Rather I feel like I'm watching someone else, as though I have always been on autopilot, but recently got a major software update.