郎不歸鄉 (joke)

夏進興(xia4 jin4 xing), a former counselor of the president, wrote a humorous article mocking simplified Chinese characters. As someone who has used traditional Chinese ever since she started to learn to read and write, I’ve expressed the same regret that Chinese characters have been “twisted” and “abused” in so many ways in my previous writing. It’s like seeing a stunning beauty turning to an ugly by some crash-and-burn plastic surgery. Though I labeled this article under the catalog of “joke,” this is definitely no laughing matter to me.

In the article, Xia mentioned his two trips to China; how he’s not used to the simplified characters. He composed a couplet 對聯(dui4 lian2) to ridicule the simplified Chinese by pointing out their flaws in a funny way.

「麵無麥、愛無心、單翅能飛」

(mian4 wu2 mai4, ai4 wu2 xin, dan chi4 neng2 fei)
「餘不食、親不見、無門可開」

(yu2 bu4 shi2, qin bu2 jian4, wu men2 ke3 kai)

The former part of the couplet means “noodles without wheat, love without a heart, and single wing can fly.”

The latter part means “leftover without food, family love without seeing, and no door to open.”

To understand麵無麥, you have to know that many Chinese characters are combinations of meanings and pronunciations. For example, 麵(mian4) , noodles, is a combination of麥(mai4) , wheat, which carries the meaning, and 面(mian4), which carries the sound. So when you see the word 麵, you know it’s pronounced as面 and is something made of wheat. But it’s simplified as面in simplified Chinese, which also means “face.” This is what麵無麥means.

As to愛無心 , compared with the traditional Chinese愛(ai4), 爱, love, misses a心, heart, in it. How can you love without a heart? And when it comes to flying, 飛(fai), the simplified Chinese is飞. The double “wings” now become a single one. And the part 升(sheng), which means elevating, is gone.

The word 餘 means surplus, or leftover. Like麵 , it’s a combination of 食(shi2), food , and 余(yu2), which is the sound. In simplified Chinese, it’s changed into余, with食, the food, missing. This is the meaning of 餘不食.

As we go on to親不見, 親 is your family or relatives. The term親情(qin qing2) means love between parents and children or family members. In simplified Chinese it turns to亲, which means the part見(jian4), to see or meet, is missing. How can family members love each other if they don’t even get to see each other?

The last part of the couplet is無門可開. When you say “open the door,” it would be 開門(kai men2) in Chinese. The simplified for開, to open, is开, where the door, 門, is missing. As a result, you have no door to open.

After my explanation, which I hope you have the patience to understand, you see each part of the couplet refers to a character. Previously I mentioned that for a couplet, there usually will be a 橫批(heng2 pi), a third part that is put across the gate.

After his retirement, Xia has worked as a voluntary tour guide in the presidential building, who often entertains visitors from China. Sometimes he’ll mention the couplet to them, some of whom asked about its橫批and they started the brainstorming. The followings are some examples.

「不生而產」(bu4 sheng er2 chan3), to have children without laboring.  生產means to produce, or bear a child. But in simplified Chinese, 產  is written as产 , with the part “labor” 生 missing. How can you have children without bearing them?

Another one is 「死無全屍」 (si3 wu2 chuan2 shi), meaning dying without a whole body全屍. In the past, most Chinese hoped that when they die, they would have a whole and complete body, which means they die a ripe age in bed, but not untimely accidental death with their boots on, and they could go to their next life “complete.” Accordingly死無全屍is often used as a curse for someone you hate. The point here is the word body屍is simplified as尸, with 死, death, missing, so it’s incomplete.

The last one is郎不歸鄉(lang2 bu4 gui shang), meaning your beloved man doesn’t return home. 鄉, homeland, is simplified as乡with the part 郎missing. 郎means a male lover as used in 情郎(ching2 lang2). How miserable it is if your beloved man doesn’t return again!

As I know, many times in China’s National Political Consultative Reference, (政協會zheng4 xie2 huai4) the issue of restoring to traditional Chinese characters has been brought up. Though personally I wish it come true, in reality, I know it’s never easy for 1.3 billion people to change. (But not impossible since you’ve done it once before!) When it comes to non-native speakers who intend to learn Chinese, which one will they choose, one with 1.3 billion users, or the other with tens of million ones? Sadly I wonder.

郎不歸鄉=郎不归乡

夏進興=夏进兴

對聯=对联

麵無麥、愛無心、單翅能飛=面无麦、爱无心、单翅能飞

餘不食、親不見、無門可開=余不食、亲不见、无门可开

不生而產=不生而产

死無全屍=死无全尸

翹辮子 (Euphemism)

The way people call death more or less reflects their notion about it.

These days the most prevalent euphemism for death in Taiwan would be 往生(wang3 sheng), I think. Literally it means “toward life,” “heading for birth.” The term is strongly Buddhism-tinged and reveals Buddhist belief of reincarnation, 輪迴(lun2 hui2).

In Buddhistic world, life is an endless circle. When people die, their souls abandon their body, the flesh and bone, or what they call (臭)皮囊(chou4 pi2 nang2)-- a (stinky) bag of skin, just like they move out of a house. They don’t leave for good; they’ll come back some day in another (臭)皮囊. Their souls wait for the right time to get into a fetus胎(tai), and the process is called 投胎(tou2 tai).

Life thus starts all over again. You begin with a newborn and go on with the process of 生(sheng)、老(lao3)、病(bing4)、死(si3), birth, aging, illness, death. Death isn’t the end. It is only one point in the circle which is followed by生, birth. So here comes the term 往生. It turns death, which seems to be an ending, into a beginning.

The circulation of life does not limit to human forms. You might come back as an animal, depending on what you did in your previous life. Basically Buddhists regards the process of reincarnation as something bitter, something they’d like to avoid. According to them, the mundane world is a sea of bitterness, 苦海(ku3 hai3). The purpose for them to practice Buddhism is to get off from the reincarnation and go to paradise, which is located in the west, which they call西方極樂世界(xi fang ji2 le4 shi4 jie4). 西方 is the west. 極樂 means extremely happy. 世界, world.

That’s why sometimes we’ll use the term 駕鶴西歸(jia4 he4 xi gui) to mean death. 駕means to ride. 鶴 is a crane, 西歸 , return to the west. You ride a crane returning to the west.

Another common term for death is 過世(guo4 shi4), literally meaning to pass the world, which is similar to “pass away” in English. And the term升天(sheng tian), going up to the celestial world, or成仙(cheng xian), 做仙(zuo4 xian), turning to a celestial being, is similar to “go to heaven” in English.

There’s an old Taiwanese euphemism of death, 到蘇州賣鴨蛋(dao3 su zho mai4 ya dan4), go to Su-zho to sell duck eggs. Why Su-zho? It is said the original slang was 土丘(tu3 qiu), the tomb, which sounds like Su-zho in Southern Fujian dialect, or Taiwanese. Why duck eggs? According to Wikipedia, it has something to do with certain funeral rituals. And in Cantonese, it’s “selling salted duck eggs.” 賣鹹鴨蛋(mai4 xian2 ya dan4)

The Chinese people, men or women, wore plaits辮子(bian4 zi3) more than a century ago. When they were alive, their plaits drooped behind them. But when someone kicked the bucket and was put into the coffin, his plait would be put erect. Thus comes the term翹辮子  

Last but not least, my dear friends. Next time when you’re seeing someone off who’s going towards the west, do not say to him, “Wish you 一路歸西(yi2 lu4 gui xi).” When you mean “bon voyage west-bound,” to Chinese it means翹辮子!

翹辮子=翘辫子

輪迴=轮回

西方極樂世界=西方极乐世界

駕鶴西歸=驾鹤西归

過世=过世

到蘇州賣鴨蛋=到苏州卖鸭蛋

賣鹹鴨蛋=卖咸鸭蛋

債多不愁 (chop suey)

It has been reported that the White House sternly warned the lawmakers that they must raise the limit on the US government borrowing or risk a catastrophic default on debt payments.

Hearing the news, I at once remembered the Chinese saying債多不愁(zhai4 duo bu4 chou2), literally meaning when you’re deeply in debt, you will no longer worry about it.

When you first get bitten by a flea, you might feel very itchy. It gets worsen when you get the second or the third. You feel so itchy that it seems to be killing you. But magically when it goes on to the thirty-seventh or say, sixty-eighth, you turn numb. You get so used to the itch that you don’t feel it at all. It’s the same with debts.

So why worry? You’re down and out. It just couldn’t get worse. It’s the debtee 債主(zhai4 zhu3) (or 債權人(zhai quan2 ren2) as used legally) that should be worrying. He loses his appetite during the day. He tosses and turns at night. He’s being burned by the fire of worry that he would never get his money back.

When a person is deeply in debt, we have an idiom for it: 債臺高築(zhai4 tai2 gao zhu3). In Chinese history there once was a king who borrowed a lot of money to fight a battle. But he lost it and couldn’t return the money. To avoid his debtees, he built a high tower to hide. If you don’t want to sound so literary, you can say he 欠了一屁股債(qian4 li yi2 pi4 gu3 zhai4). 欠債(qian4 zhai4) means to get into debt. 屁股(pi4 gu3) is ass. You have your ass all covered in debts.

Customarily the debtees will get his money back at the end of the year, i.e. before the Chinese New Year’s Eve. As a result, those who are in debt are especially busy at the end of the year. They have to either find money to pay off their debts, or get new loans to cover the old ones. Accordingly an interesting custom arose.

In the past some temples would put on Taiwanese operas on the Lunar New Year’s Eve, which was called 避債戲(bi4 zhai4 xi4), a show to avoid the debtees. People who couldn’t pay off their debts would go watch the show. If a debtee went to the show trying to locate his debtor and asked the money back, he would irritate the audience or even get a good beating. The show went on for whole night till the morning of the New Year’s Day. Then everyone was safe and went home happily.

For debtors in the modern society, they can have a bankruptcy announced, 宣告破產(xian gao4 puo4 chan3). Some would get new loans to pay off the old ones, which is called 以債養債(yi3 zhai4 yang3 zhai4). Others even unwisely resort to a shark loan 高利貸(gao li4 dai4), or 地下錢莊(di4 xia4 qian2 zhong)

There are some debts that can’t be paid off by money, which is called人情債(ren2 qing2 zhai4), debt of gratitude. For money, you no longer feel you owe anything to anyone once you return it, sometimes plus interest 利息(li4 xi2). But for a 人情債, it’s never like that.

Like the US government, Taiwan’s government is facing the same problem. It’s borrowing more and more money. We’re worried that we’re going so deeply in debt that we’ll pass along too much debt to our offspring , i.e.債留子孫(zhai4 lie2 zi3 sun). For generations our ancestors were thinking about leaving us property, but now we’re leaving behind us liability. It’s getting worse because the birth rate in Taiwan is declining rapidly. I’m no financial expert. But, 債多不愁 ? I don’t see how.

           

債權人=债权人

債臺高築=债台高筑

避債戲=避债戏

宣告破產=宣告破产

以債養債=以债养债

高利貸=高利贷

地下錢莊=地下钱庄

人情債=人情债

債留子孫=债留子孙

見鬼了! (chop suey)

Last year when I went to Xian, China, there was a girl in our group who claimed that she can see the beings most people don’t see, i.e., the spirits, or the ghosts. At night when several of us crowded in a room shooting the breeze, she shared with us how she had lived with them around. Most of them were ordinary and ok, who wouldn’t do anything to her, she said. But she also had been “scared” to sick by some of them, who were mean and ill-willed, like people of our world.

This is not the first time I’ve met people with such an extraordinary “power” in person. We call those people with the ability to see ghosts having “yin-yang eyes” 陰陽眼(yin yang2 yan3), for陰間(yin jian) is used to refer to the world dead people live in, while where we’re living is 陽世(yang2 shi4). Personally I don’t take it as a blessing. Curious as I am, I’d rather be “blind” when it comes to this.

“Blind” as most of us may be, we do use a lot of “ghost terms” in our daily life the way we use蛋(dan4), such as 壞蛋(huai4 dan4)，皮蛋(pi2 dan4).  (Please refer to my previous writing Thousand year egg in April.) For example, the counterpart of皮蛋 would be 搗蛋鬼(dao3 dan4 gui3), referring to those goofing-around trouble-makers. And for those alcoholics, it would be 酒鬼(jiu3 gui3), which is also a well-known brand of wine in China.

Recently a CNN website on travel “CNN go” labeled seven Asian cities with the seven sins from the Bible. For Taipei, Taiwan, it’s gluttony. Many Taiwanese are not happy about this. Are we all貪吃鬼(tan chi gui3), gluttons? And for Tokyo, it’s “lust.” Accordingly, are Japanese色鬼(se4 gui3), lechers? Personally I just laugh off the report. That the author chose sins to label the cities has showed his perspective. He did it probably because he wanted to write something stunningly fresh, taking an angle that’s never been taken before. I wonder later if there would be another report labeling these cities with “seven virtues” to make a “balance.”

For men, they might be looking forward to meeting a kind of ghost like what is recorded in the Chinese classic 聊齋異誌(liao2 zhai yi4 zhi4) Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, 艷鬼(yan4 gui3), drop-dead-gorgeous ghosts. The hardworking scholar is suddenly visited by an extremely beautiful woman (who later is proved to be a ghost) in the midnight when he’s working in his study room, and they would have a rapturous night. (Did 蒲松齡(pu2 song ling2), the author, go nuts or get too bored from studying that he created such crazy stories?)

The best-known contemporary艷鬼 would be 聶小倩(nie4 xiao3 qian4) from the movie 倩女幽魂(qian4 nu3 you huan2). Go see the movie you’ll see what I mean. Personally I prefer the old version, where 王祖賢(wang2 zu3 xian2) played聶小倩. She is the best 艷鬼I have in mind.

In the old movies, some women liked to refer to their husband as死鬼(si3 gui3), dead ghost. (Is there any “living” ghost?) For kids, sometimes we call them 小鬼(xiao3 qui3). The movie “Home Alone” was translated as小鬼當家(xiao3 qui3 dang jia) in Taiwan, literally meaning “the kid is in charge.”

Lastly I have to go to my title見鬼了. When someone says something far-fetched, something that is very ridiculous and unlikely to happen, you may say this to him, literally meaning “you’ve seen a ghost!” For example, if you say to me, “Jessie, I think I saw a picture of you online, where you are dressed like Marilyn Monroe standing above a subway grating, your white dress billowing,” I’ll definitely yell, “見鬼了，你!”

p.s. But at the same time I think I’ll add it to my list of “100 things to  do before I’m 90.”

陰陽眼=阴阳眼

陰間=阴间

壞蛋=坏蛋

搗蛋鬼=捣蛋鬼

貪吃鬼=贪吃鬼

聊齋異誌=聊斋异志

艷鬼=艳鬼

蒲松齡=蒲松龄

聶小倩=聂小倩

Let’s pick out a lucky day (custom)

What is the best-seller, the book with the most versions in Taiwan?

Non-farmers as we are, most of us keep at home a “Chinese farmer’s calendar” 農民曆(nong2 min2 li4), or黃曆(huang2 li4), yellow calendar. Yes, statically it is the best-selling book in Taiwan. Every year around three million copies are published. Nearly 80 percent of Taiwanese families keep a version of it. I got one too, which is a present from a certain company. A lot of enterprises publish黃曆as a gift for their customers, for it is frequently used.

You may call it an encyclopedia in the traditional society, especially for the farmers. It is arranged based on the 24 solar terms, 節氣(jie2 qi4), by which farmers regulate their agricultural activities. There’re also weather predictions from a long-term observation and statistics.

For example, there’s a chant going like this, 立秋無雨最堪憂，萬物從來只半收(li4 qiu wu2 yu3 zui4 kan you, wan4 wu4 cong2 lai2 zhi3 ban4 shou). It worries farmers the most If it doesn’t rain on the day “start of autumn立秋,” because that foretells a bad harvest.

Opening a 黃曆, you’ll see today is a good day for wedding or offering services to god or ancestors, 宜：嫁娶、祭祀(yi2: jia4 qu3, ji4 si4)but not good for remodeling or building houses 忌：修造(ji4: xiu zao4) This is how most non-farmers depend on this calendar, not for anything related to agriculture, but for “picking out good days.” 看日子(kan4 ri4 zi)

It is generally believed that when conducting important affairs, such as marrying, starting a business, moving, offering religious or ancestry services. . . etc, it is important to pick out an auspicious day 黃道吉日(huang2 dao4 ji2 ri4), so that everything will go smoothly and no ill luck will be incurred. Some people believe it’s a matter not only of days, but even hours. They might go to a fortune teller to pick out the exact hour of the exact day according to the day and hour of their birth.

But you can’t go to a fortune teller for everything. So the黃曆solves the problem. It includes the dos宜 and don’ts忌 on a daily basis. And the activities included range from bathing, hunting, meeting friends to getting married or having a funeral, almost every routine in our life.

Though time has changed and so have our notions, 農民曆is still frequently consulted because many people consider it harmless and nothing will be lost if you just check it out, picking a day that is both convenient for you and “right” to do something important. That’s our attitude when dealing with things like this—寧可信其有(ning2 ke3 xin4 qi2 you3), you’d rather believe in it when you get nothing to lose.

When I was a little girl, I loved to read 黃曆. You’re wrong if you take them as nothing more than a calendar. When reading them carefully, you’ll find many interesting information, which reveal details of life in the past. For example, besides the do’s and don’ts, it has a 沖煞 every day. It means a certain day is unlucky for people born in certain years. So, if today’s沖煞is people born in the years of tiger. It’s better for those “tigers” not to enter the bride’s room if there’s a wedding today.
In addition, every day there will be one or two “lucky directions.” Years ago when we spent Chinese New Year in the city, my mom-in-law would tell us in the morning of the lunar New Year Day which direction to go once we finished our breakfast and wanted to go out. She checked the黃曆before she told us this, in the hope that we would have a good start by going the “right direction.”

Another interesting item would be telling your fortune by the time you were born. There’s a list of “weight” for each year, month, and hour. You add these numbers and get a total amount of your “weight.” For each weight, you’ll find a general description of your life in rhymed lines.

I really can’t remember what my “weight” was when I did the counting. Nothing too bad, I guess. At least I didn’t start my life with the burden from the thought that I was “doomed,” or no matter how hard I tried, I was destined to be miserable. Actually I didn’t take it so seriously when I read it. But I wonder how many people are “ruined” by this from taking it too seriously. My point here is it more or less reflects the general belief that your destiny has been written in the stars the moment when you were born.

Usually the bottom cover of the book is a list of food, the kinds of food that clash with each other, which you can’t eat together. “Antidotes” are also offered. But we have a lot of doubts about those lists, which might result from misleading hearsays in old days. For example, do you believe that chicken plus plums will be “poisonous?” I know some people have done experiments according to the lists and have proved parts of them wrong.

However ridiculous you think parts of the farmer’s calendar are, it is still a part of our life. Its content is changing to cope with the changes of times. It’s harmless if you check it out once in a while as a reference. Today, for example, is a good day to say to your sweetheart, “Let’s get married today. According to the book, it’s the right day to do so!”

農民曆=农民历
節氣=节气

立秋無雨最堪憂=立秋无雨最堪忧

萬物從來只半=收万物从来只半收

寧可信其有=宁可信其有

沖煞=冲煞

Raise your glass (chop suey)

Driving alone in the moonlight from work, I heard Pink’s boisterous song “Raise your glass” on the radio. I believe that was what many people were doing the moment when I was returning home from work—drinking and enjoying their life after work.

I couldn’t help but remember one of the greatest Chinese poets, who had been most famous for his superb talent for poetry after drinking, who had written so many out-of-this-world poems on drinking, Li Bai 李白(li3 bai2). Being alone under the moon naturally reminded me of his 月下獨酌(yue4 xia4 du2 zhuo2), Drinking Alone Under the Moon.

Contrary to Pink’s song, Li’s月下獨酌 shows much of a solitude atmosphere. I think the key word of the poem is獨, alone. The poet raised his glass to the moon, along with his own shadow, making three of them to drink and dance together. It only highlighted the fact that he was drinking alone, without any beloved or friends around, i.e. 獨酌無相親(du2 zhuo2 wu2 xiang qin).

When someone is drinking alone in melancholy, we call it喝悶酒(he men4 jiu3), which is considered bad for your health. Drinking is supposed to be a merry occasion and should be done with friends. That’s why when a group of Taiwanese are drinking together, they often make a lot of noise, because they not only drink but划酒拳(hwa2 jiu3 quan2), play “drinking games.”

If you’ve ever read some Chinese classic novels like 紅樓夢(hong2 le2 meng4), Dream of the Red Chamber, you’ll know a lot of the characters’ life was spent on playing 酒令(jiu3 ling4) , drinking games while drinking. The glass was passed among the drinkers. Each of them had to compose some poetic lines on the given topic when the glass was passed to him. He had to drink the glass of wine if he failed to compose as required. This is called 罰酒(fa2 jiu3), drinking the wine as a punishment. There are hundreds of games like this. What is played in the novel is only one of them, which is often played by the more literary people.  

划酒拳(hwa2 jiu3 chuan3) is another drinking game, which is more “active” and commonly played by ordinary people. There are various kinds of 酒拳, which usually take two or more people to play. The players play the game with their hands like they do in playing “paper, scissors, stone,” but with different rules. To lift up the spirits they also shout out lines when showing their fingers. The basic idea is the one who loses a bout will drink the glass of wine, 罰酒. I found a website with a very short demonstration of 划酒拳www.kkl.gov.tw/life/life_3_3.html  You may log on to it to have a general idea about this game.

We also like to make toasts to each other when drinking, which is called 敬酒(jing4 jie3). From this we have a saying as 敬酒不吃吃罰酒(jing4 jiu3 bu4 chi chi fa2 jiu3).  If you’re showing good willness or friendliness to someone in a negotiation, only to find him hostile and act in a provoking way, to show your impatience you might say to him “Don’t敬酒不吃吃罰酒,” you’d better drink up the wine toasted to you; otherwise, I might give you a cup of “punishment wine.”

People act differently after they drink. They are sometimes very different from their usual selves. A serious and quiet man may dramatically become very talkative and lets everything off his chest. We call this 酒後吐真言(jiu3 hou4 tu3 zhen yian2). Your defensive self is crashed by alcohol and you speak up what you usually won’t say. Others might turn to misbehaving monsters from polite gentlemen. We call this 酒後亂性(jiu3 hou4 luan4 xing4). That’s why sometimes we’ll joke about observing your daughter’s boyfriend in two ways: getting him drunk or playing Ma-jung with him.

We call the way you act after you drink 酒品(jiu3 pin3), and the way you act when losing money on Ma-jung table, 牌品(pai2 pin3). 品means virtue, quality. A man acts like a gentleman is nothing particular. But if he’s the same smiling gentleman when he’s drunk or losing money (not big money like all his fortune, but pocket money when playing with family or friends as an entertainment), that really means something. We will say his 酒品 or 牌品 is good. Some people might want to marry their daughters off to someone with such a good temper.

In Chinese, there are many nicknames for wine, one of which is 杜康(du4 kang), who is said to be the man that started to make wine. Some people call it 忘憂物(wang4 yiu wu4), something that enables you to forget your worries. Indeed, a lot of people get into the habit of drinking because they try to get rid of what is troubling them, which is called 借酒澆愁(jie4 jiu3 jiao chou2), pouring your worries with wine.

To this, the great poet Li Bai wrote a well-known line, 舉杯澆愁愁更愁(ju3 bei jiao chou2 chou2 geng4 chou2), your worries only get deepened when you try to wash they off by drinking. For one thing, you hurt your liver if you drink too much. Some alcoholics joke about the dilemma by saying 喝了傷肝，不喝傷心(he li shang gan, bu4 he shang xin). Your liver gets hurt when drinking but your hearts gets hurt when not.

To hurt your liver or to hurt your heart? Some people don’t think so much. They just raise their glass and say 今朝有酒今朝醉(jin zhao you3 jiu3 jin zhao zui4), get drunk today when you still have wine! (今朝, today)

月下獨酌=月下独酌

獨酌無相親=独酌无相亲

喝悶酒=喝闷酒

罰酒=罚酒

酒後吐真言=酒后吐真言

酒後亂性=酒后乱性

忘憂物=忘忧物

借酒澆愁=借酒浇愁

傷=伤