Below, are some interesting literal traslations of Chinese words.
1. Kiwi is called "mi hoa tao" which translates to mean "monkey peach".
2. Jealously is called "chi cu" which translates to mean "eat vinegar".
3. A guy who is a playboy is called a "hua hua gong zi" which translates to mean "flower flower fire radish"
4. Hong Kong is called "xiang gang" which translates to mean "good smelling place". The reason for this, is becuase Hong Kong is fairly famous for importing and selling perfume.
Cool, huh?
Anyhow, I am off to this good smelling place (Hong Kong) for the upcoming national holiday. SO, if you are reading this and if you are my parents- I am totally not dead and I will totally try to buy a phone card and call you.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
The Blind Leading the Blinder or Chinese is really hard
So, I'm learning Chinese. Which is extremely difficult.
As you may or may not know, Chinese is a tonal language, which means that the meaning of any given word is not solely determined by the word's phonetic pronunciation but also by a tone. For example, the word "ma" when said at different tones (meaning pitch and inflection), means mom, hemp, horse, curse, or an interrogative particle. This makes learning and speaking extremely difficult as you would not want to ride a curse, smoke your mom, send a Horse's Day card or misuse an interrogative particle.
The challenge, though, is further exacerbated by the fact that none of our Chinese teachers speak English. Fortunately for us, they are all extremely adept at sign language. Most lessons involve our teacher repeating a word like "Hei Se" and then pointing to as many objects as she can until someone from the back screams out "Oh! I think it means black". Everyday, I spend the entire three hours of the class trying to pick out any Chinese word I can understand from the sea of gobbledygook coming from my teacher's mouth. Most days sound like, "Blah, blah, blah, Korean, blah, blah, blah, chicken leg, blah, blah, blah, arm hair." Context clues also help. Luckily, though, each day seems to have less blah's and more intelligible Chinese words- So I got that goin for me. Which is nice.
Yesterday, in our culture class, we received a special lecture from author, professor and public intellectual Laoshi Sun. This woman is incredibly bright. She spent many years in America and can traverse Chinese and English effortlessly- sweet relief! The lecture was about the presence (and often absence) of women in Chinese Theater. Everyone in the class was enthused and mostly awake after the three hour lecture- which is always a good sign. Laoshi Sun summed up the lecture with a brief discussion of white collar theater which prompted a fairly curious question from the class.
The woman who asked the question, a 58 year old American woman from upstate New York, may or may not be taking a shit load of pain killers. Her head is perpetually buried in her dictionary, though she never seems to resurface knowing any more Chinese words.
"Umm...yea....I have a question" she said. "You keep on talking about white collar theater. What about black collar theater?"
The class was silent. Every student working hard to suppress their laughter. Poor Laoshi Sun straining to understand the question. She furrowed her brow- searching through her mental Rolodex for this western art form "black collar theater". Perhaps is was some avant-garde niche genre she hadn't learned about.
"I'm not really sure how to answer your question. What I'm discussing is white collar theater- you know- yuppies, rich people, all these young kids talking on their blueberries"
As you may or may not know, Chinese is a tonal language, which means that the meaning of any given word is not solely determined by the word's phonetic pronunciation but also by a tone. For example, the word "ma" when said at different tones (meaning pitch and inflection), means mom, hemp, horse, curse, or an interrogative particle. This makes learning and speaking extremely difficult as you would not want to ride a curse, smoke your mom, send a Horse's Day card or misuse an interrogative particle.
The challenge, though, is further exacerbated by the fact that none of our Chinese teachers speak English. Fortunately for us, they are all extremely adept at sign language. Most lessons involve our teacher repeating a word like "Hei Se" and then pointing to as many objects as she can until someone from the back screams out "Oh! I think it means black". Everyday, I spend the entire three hours of the class trying to pick out any Chinese word I can understand from the sea of gobbledygook coming from my teacher's mouth. Most days sound like, "Blah, blah, blah, Korean, blah, blah, blah, chicken leg, blah, blah, blah, arm hair." Context clues also help. Luckily, though, each day seems to have less blah's and more intelligible Chinese words- So I got that goin for me. Which is nice.
Yesterday, in our culture class, we received a special lecture from author, professor and public intellectual Laoshi Sun. This woman is incredibly bright. She spent many years in America and can traverse Chinese and English effortlessly- sweet relief! The lecture was about the presence (and often absence) of women in Chinese Theater. Everyone in the class was enthused and mostly awake after the three hour lecture- which is always a good sign. Laoshi Sun summed up the lecture with a brief discussion of white collar theater which prompted a fairly curious question from the class.
The woman who asked the question, a 58 year old American woman from upstate New York, may or may not be taking a shit load of pain killers. Her head is perpetually buried in her dictionary, though she never seems to resurface knowing any more Chinese words.
"Umm...yea....I have a question" she said. "You keep on talking about white collar theater. What about black collar theater?"
The class was silent. Every student working hard to suppress their laughter. Poor Laoshi Sun straining to understand the question. She furrowed her brow- searching through her mental Rolodex for this western art form "black collar theater". Perhaps is was some avant-garde niche genre she hadn't learned about.
"I'm not really sure how to answer your question. What I'm discussing is white collar theater- you know- yuppies, rich people, all these young kids talking on their blueberries"
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Chinese Cuisine- (read menu translations below pics)
Toast Pigeon
Slices flish with sauce 
Leshan Fried Spricy Chicken 
Fish Taste Pork with EggplantsThe Cantine
The other day, my fellow Americans and I thought we would be adventurous and try out the campus cantine. It's a convenient 2 minute walk from the dorms and each meal costs somewhere between one and two dollars. We were on our way over when we ran into a Japanese buddy of ours.
This guy is average height and looks but he has this crazy mad-scientist hair that makes him look half cartoon and half uni bomber. He's very, very serious and sort of shy but always tries his hardest to communicate with us through broken English- the guy's a real sweetheart- so, we told him we were on the way to the cantine and would he like to join us.
And he looked at all of us with his crazy wild mane. He took a long pause before responding, opened his eyes wide, shook his head slowly and said in the most earnest way possible,
"No... Is not dericious."
This guy is average height and looks but he has this crazy mad-scientist hair that makes him look half cartoon and half uni bomber. He's very, very serious and sort of shy but always tries his hardest to communicate with us through broken English- the guy's a real sweetheart- so, we told him we were on the way to the cantine and would he like to join us.
And he looked at all of us with his crazy wild mane. He took a long pause before responding, opened his eyes wide, shook his head slowly and said in the most earnest way possible,
"No... Is not dericious."
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
We Shi Pang Mei Guo Ren (I'm a Fat American)
On the first day we arrived, I received a stained, starchy sheet and covers with a pillow. It appeared to be repackaged. I gave this very little thought and continued to use it- as everything in China seems slightly stained, starchy, repackaged, or a combination thereof. You have to figure, if the Chinese have propagated more than a billion people under these conditions, they're doing something right.
I put everything on my bed and slept soundly for a few nights before I developed a rash. I won't regale you with specifics. Suffice it to say that I developed a rash and identified the blanket as the cause. I bought a new set of blankets and my skin recovered in suit.
Then, tonight I received a letter.
It should be said first that since coming to China, I have tried in every possible way to assimilate, observe and respect cultural differences and above all- not offend. I over-apologize and "please" and "thank you" like I'm breathing. It's what you have to do when you have no idea what's going on.
I have learned a great deal in the way of courtesy in China, though. For example, do not stick your chopsticks in your food- rather, lay them gracefully across the top of your bowl when you are finished eating. Do not laugh uproariously with your mouth agape slapping your knee- especially if you are a lady. Do not step on the bottom of a door frame when entering someones house- this is a sign of disrespect and may or may not let ghosts inside.
ANYWAY- these are things I've learned.
There are many things I still have yet to learn. Tonight I received a letter informing me that bedding had been found in the garbage. The letter was written by the school's Foreign Affairs Office whose stance was a concise but clear, "We feel sorry about that". They also added, "Please treasure facilities and utensils".
Apparently, this was a serious faux pas and enormous offense. And apparently, I am the unveiled culprit. In all fairness, I was never told that the blankets were meant to be returned and I'm fairly certain they made my skin turn into scales. Nevertheless, I may have successfully brought shame to the families and ancestors of every administrator in the Foreign Affairs Office.
I put everything on my bed and slept soundly for a few nights before I developed a rash. I won't regale you with specifics. Suffice it to say that I developed a rash and identified the blanket as the cause. I bought a new set of blankets and my skin recovered in suit.
Then, tonight I received a letter.
It should be said first that since coming to China, I have tried in every possible way to assimilate, observe and respect cultural differences and above all- not offend. I over-apologize and "please" and "thank you" like I'm breathing. It's what you have to do when you have no idea what's going on.
I have learned a great deal in the way of courtesy in China, though. For example, do not stick your chopsticks in your food- rather, lay them gracefully across the top of your bowl when you are finished eating. Do not laugh uproariously with your mouth agape slapping your knee- especially if you are a lady. Do not step on the bottom of a door frame when entering someones house- this is a sign of disrespect and may or may not let ghosts inside.
ANYWAY- these are things I've learned.
There are many things I still have yet to learn. Tonight I received a letter informing me that bedding had been found in the garbage. The letter was written by the school's Foreign Affairs Office whose stance was a concise but clear, "We feel sorry about that". They also added, "Please treasure facilities and utensils".
Apparently, this was a serious faux pas and enormous offense. And apparently, I am the unveiled culprit. In all fairness, I was never told that the blankets were meant to be returned and I'm fairly certain they made my skin turn into scales. Nevertheless, I may have successfully brought shame to the families and ancestors of every administrator in the Foreign Affairs Office.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Chinese Fashion or Chaos in Clothing
Since visiting China, a number of things have occurred to me about the city's fashion- Primarily, its absence.
Which is not to say that Chinese people don't have taste or class or a value for aesthetics. On the contrary, the Chinese are very much interested in saving face and looking good in the eyes of others. Although, to look around you might not know it.
And this is because of a universal chaos in their clothes. There are no recurring themes. There are no through lines. no trends. no patterns. Every person on the street is dressed haphazardly. Which is not to say that they're sloppy or unkempt or poorly dressed. It's more to say that the only universal thing about chinese ensembles is their dissimilarities.
Perhaps this observation is superficial. In fact, it is. But it's easy to forget the subtle tools you use every day to figure other people out. Clothes allow you to decode foreign social structures. When travelling in China or Europe or even a few towns over in America, you begin to learn who someone is by the way they present themselves. People in business suits. People in jeans . People in scrubs. A person's threads say a great deal about what they do and who they are. So, in a country where all the clothes say about a person is that they're dressed, you must look elsewhere for expressions of identity.
Which is not to say that Chinese people don't have taste or class or a value for aesthetics. On the contrary, the Chinese are very much interested in saving face and looking good in the eyes of others. Although, to look around you might not know it.
And this is because of a universal chaos in their clothes. There are no recurring themes. There are no through lines. no trends. no patterns. Every person on the street is dressed haphazardly. Which is not to say that they're sloppy or unkempt or poorly dressed. It's more to say that the only universal thing about chinese ensembles is their dissimilarities.
Perhaps this observation is superficial. In fact, it is. But it's easy to forget the subtle tools you use every day to figure other people out. Clothes allow you to decode foreign social structures. When travelling in China or Europe or even a few towns over in America, you begin to learn who someone is by the way they present themselves. People in business suits. People in jeans . People in scrubs. A person's threads say a great deal about what they do and who they are. So, in a country where all the clothes say about a person is that they're dressed, you must look elsewhere for expressions of identity.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Week 1
Things so far have been completely amazing! Everyone here is so kind. All of the Americans are present and accounted for- a really fun bunch of kids. We've made friends with the other foreign exchange students- namely a japanese kid who speaks chinese and english and an italian guy who speaks chinese, japanese and english. I know, right? It can make you feel very American.
Anyhow, the guys took us out to our first Chinese house party. The girls got very dressed up and we were all speculating in the cab ride over about how chinese people have a house party. When the cab stopped, we were at the foot of a towering marble building with spectacular views. The guy who owned the place was actually japanese and most of the people at the party were Korean. ANYWAY- we all had to laugh when we walked in because we were herded around a big table for dinner only to find that the custom food was....KFC. 12 hour time difference, foreign language, different side of the world- KFC.
Anyhow, the guys took us out to our first Chinese house party. The girls got very dressed up and we were all speculating in the cab ride over about how chinese people have a house party. When the cab stopped, we were at the foot of a towering marble building with spectacular views. The guy who owned the place was actually japanese and most of the people at the party were Korean. ANYWAY- we all had to laugh when we walked in because we were herded around a big table for dinner only to find that the custom food was....KFC. 12 hour time difference, foreign language, different side of the world- KFC.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Ryann IS in Shanghai
It is so official. I am currently sitting in a dorm room in the center of Shanghai in the center of China in the center of the universe.
Things are very good. Now.
Things were not necessarily always very good until this moment. The plane landed and its passengers began their final cathartic conversations about overhead luggage and the like and all of a sudden I realized. We should not be here. I started to laugh nervously while looking out the window. Listen guys, I think we oughta turn this thing around. What in god's name are we doing? This is no place for us. I wanted to rally these people and show them the error of their ways- confirm with them that we had collectively made a huge mistake. As soon as we left the plane we would be surrounded by a big smog haze of shortish people speaking in tongues and smoking cigarettes.
The guy sitting on my left observed my discomfort and turned to me. "Just don't look lost" he said. And with that, he exited the plane. I felt like Dustin Hoffman in the graduate. "Just don't look lost- and one word- plastics".
When I got off the plane I was greeted by two lovely Chinese students from the academy who speak exceptional (if sometimes lost in translation-esque) English. The girls greeted me with a sign that said my name and informed me of their American names- Vera and Isic. I shook their hands. I have never met any American people in my life with either the name Vera or Isic. But nevertheless, they were incredibly kind and hospitable. They took me out to an authentic Chinese meal and made certain that I had everything I needed before dropping me off at my dorm. Which is gorgeous. I will try to post pictures of the view- which is stupidly spectacular- when I figure out my camera.
Until then, I'm crunked off of jet lag and plan to remedy that immediately. Huitou Jian (See ya)!
Things are very good. Now.
Things were not necessarily always very good until this moment. The plane landed and its passengers began their final cathartic conversations about overhead luggage and the like and all of a sudden I realized. We should not be here. I started to laugh nervously while looking out the window. Listen guys, I think we oughta turn this thing around. What in god's name are we doing? This is no place for us. I wanted to rally these people and show them the error of their ways- confirm with them that we had collectively made a huge mistake. As soon as we left the plane we would be surrounded by a big smog haze of shortish people speaking in tongues and smoking cigarettes.
The guy sitting on my left observed my discomfort and turned to me. "Just don't look lost" he said. And with that, he exited the plane. I felt like Dustin Hoffman in the graduate. "Just don't look lost- and one word- plastics".
When I got off the plane I was greeted by two lovely Chinese students from the academy who speak exceptional (if sometimes lost in translation-esque) English. The girls greeted me with a sign that said my name and informed me of their American names- Vera and Isic. I shook their hands. I have never met any American people in my life with either the name Vera or Isic. But nevertheless, they were incredibly kind and hospitable. They took me out to an authentic Chinese meal and made certain that I had everything I needed before dropping me off at my dorm. Which is gorgeous. I will try to post pictures of the view- which is stupidly spectacular- when I figure out my camera.
Until then, I'm crunked off of jet lag and plan to remedy that immediately. Huitou Jian (See ya)!
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