The temple in the mountains (Nepal)

 

A Brit told me this story of one of his trips to Nepal (in the 70s, I think, if not in the late 60s -- he was born in 1948, so with the hippy movement, he might've gone out to the sub-continent in the 60s).

    Let's call him Alan.

    On a solitary trek in the mountains one day, he'd got lost at some point.  While trying to find a way back to Kathmandu, he came across a temple.

    The monk there greeted him warmly, then showed him around the grounds, where he'd planted some prized chrysanthemums, of which he was very proud.

    Alan was wearing a cagoule (raincoat / wind cheater) that was in almost the same shade as the monk's saffron colour robe.

    The monk admired it, and touched it for the texture.

    Alan told him it was waterproof, which the monk found quite hard to believe (this was the late 60s or the 70s, and up in the remote Nepalese mountains), so Alan poured a drop of water onto the surface to show him.

    The monk then called for a whole bucket of water to be thrown over the cagoule and found that the water had indeed not seeped through.

    He wanted to buy it off Alan, who said that he couldn't spare it, as it was the only weather-proof top he had on that trip.

    Alan then asked to take a photo of him with the Himalayas in their snow-covered glory in the background.

    The monk felt that the Himalayas were too mundane as a backdrop, and wanted instead a photo of himself standing in front of his precious chrysanthemums, wearing Alan's saffron-colour waterproof cagoule.  It went down to his knees as he was a small chappie (even smaller than Alan) but he smiled proudly at the camera for his new discovery (a waterproof monk's robe) with his beloved chrysanthemums behind him.

    The monk then pointed Alan in the right direction for the way back to Kathmandu.

    Alan was unable to find the temple again the next time.

    Sounds a bit Shangrila, doesn't it...

(Nepal, 1970s)

The monk in this story is a good example of the condition described in 習焉不察 / 习焉不察: https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2025/12/chinese-sayings-43.html 

Chinese small talk: 03 (The letter)

 

I'd gone on a 37-day film shoot in China, following a multi-millionaire motorbiker riding from Shanghai to Xinjiang.

    We'd taken on board a film producer from the Shanghai Film Studios, for his credentials to help open doors for us as a foreign crew filming in places that the Chinese might not quite agree to happily.  

    (This was 1988, which was fairly early days for foreigners to be running around China capturing scenes of their daily lives unrehearsed.)  

    The film producer (let's call him Mr Li) and I had got on well.

    Apart from getting on well with him, I'd also let him earn FEC from us, which amounted to a tidy sum over the 37 days.

    FEC is Foreign Exchange Certificate (外汇兑换券 wàihuì duìhuànquàn / "outside currency exchange exchange voucher"), Chinese money issued only to foreigners (1980 – 1994).  Its nickname was Funny Money.  The notes looked pretty much like what the locals used, but with the extra line in Chinese and in English identifying it.

    Imported goods could be bought (at the state-run Friendship Store / 友谊商店) only with FEC.  Taxi drivers, the few that were operating, would ask if we were paying in FEC or renminbi, with a lower fare quoted if we were paying in FEC.  That was how much in demand FEC was in those days.  One yuan FEC was, therefore, worth a lot more than one yuan renminbi.

    Whenever we arrived at a new filming location, which was about every day as we had a lot of mileage to cover, the crew would want a crate of beer to start with.  I'd go with Mr Li to the shop and let him pay with his renminbi, but settle with him in FEC, so I was doing Mr Li a huge favour, letting him earn FEC throughout the 37 days of the film shoot.

    Yet, for the six months after our return, I never got even a simple card from Mr Li.  Fair enough, the Chinese are generally not very good at keeping in touch anyway, in my experience.  Wang Meiling's brother had actually said something most revealing:  that when he was having a farewell meal with his friends before leaving for London, they had "promised each other NOT to write unless it was something urgent or important", which sounds strange at first, until you think of the consequences should their letters be intercepted.

    Back to Mr Li:  as the programme was about to be aired on Channel Four, I received a letter from Mr Li.  I immediately thought, "OK, let's see what kind of favour he wants."

    Page 1 started with (something like): "The programme must be going out soon on television.  I had really enjoyed working with you lot.  It was an interesting and fresh experience for me, blah blah blah," for a whole A4 page.

    Turn over to Page 2, aha!  "My daughter wants to go to the UK to study English.  Can you help her find a course and accommodation?"

Chinese small talk: 02 (The telephone call)

 

Wang Meiling's brother (as it turned out) had arrived not long ago at that point, and with his sister having gone off to China (got a job with a British company that sent her over), he had only me for a contact.

    I'd invite him every now and then to the SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London) bar for a drink and a chat, even once to my flat for a Chinese beef stew meal (a mistake -- you don't cook Chinese food for a Chinese person:  it's not going to pass the test).

    Wang Meiling's brother rang up one day and went through the ritual:  telling me what he'd been up to of late, which took up about 15 minutes of the call; then asking me what I'd been up to recently, which took up another 15 minutes or so.

    Once the news about both sides was delivered, it was time to end the call.

    He then said, "Oh oh, wait wait, I nearly forgot."

    I thought, "No, you didn't nearly forget.  You'd rung me precisely to ask me for a favour.  You'd spent the last half hour of my time engaging in all this small talk, just as a cover up."

Chinese small talk: 01 (The wooden horse)

 

A mainland Chinese woman in the 80s told me this story.  Let's call her Wang Meiling.  

    Wang Meiling was going back to China on a visit.  A mainland friend over here asked her to take a wooden horse (don't know what size) for him, to be handed over to a friend.  Wang Meiling had not been given any details, just that the Chinese party would get in touch with her at some point.  (This smacks a bit of a spy story, no?)

    One day, a Chinese chap turned up at her hotel room and, being Chinese, Wang Meiling couldn't ask him outright what he was there for.  They sat down and conducted some small talk, e.g., when had she arrived, how long had she been living in the UK, was she visiting family in China, etc.  

    Wang Meiling didn't know where this was leading, but couldn't come out straight and ask.  So the small talk continued for quite a while.  

    When they ran out of things to say and it was obvious that it was time for him to take his leave, the man then said, pointing at the wooden horse, "这马是我的 / zhè mǎ shì wǒ de / this horse is mine."

    Even Wang Meiling, a mainlander, said, "Why couldn't he have come out straight right from the start, and saved me all that time sitting there, wondering what he was doing visiting me at the hotel, wracking my brain for something to say?"

Chinese small talk: 00

 

The Chinese in my experience are generally not very good at or keen on small talk.

    When it comes to a meal out to mark some occasion, or even a banquet celebrating a wedding or a significant birthday (60th is the standard, as the person has completed a full cycle in the Chinese tradition), people tend to arrive, sit down, eat and leave.

    They don't tend to go for the pre-meal chatting that is fairly standard practice with Westerners attending such an occasion.  Any drinking is done at the table, with the food, not before the meal.

    If they have visitors, I've seen a lot of Chinese people actually switch on the telly as soon as the guests arrive, for distraction should the conversation run dry, I think.

    In my experience, most small talk is conducted as a preamble to talking about something delicate.  

    Reminds me of trout tickling.

(from googling)

Trout tickling is a traditional hand-fishing method where a person slowly and gently rubs a trout's belly while it's resting under a bank, eventually causing it to enter a trance-like state. Once the fish is "hypnotized," the tickler can grasp it firmly, typically by the gills, and throw it onto the bank. This technique requires immense patience and a very gentle, delicate touch.

Chinese sayings: 43 (習焉不察 / 习焉不察)

習焉不察 / 习焉不察

xí yān bù chá

"get-used-to it not detect"

This is a phrase from Mencius 孟子, about not detecting problems in something when one's got so used to it, i.e., can't see the flaws due to familiarity.

    An example has just popped up as I'm writing this:  smells.  It can be a good / nice smell, but it's normally a bad one that some people immediately notice and crinkle up their noses at, but those close to the source of the smell don't notice it at all as they've got so accustomed to it.  

    A chap working in an office space right at the top of the four-storey building where I worked in the early 80s had such strong body odour that even when he'd gone out of sight, his B.O. would linger for hours on the stairs — people who'd not seen him walk up the stairs would know he'd come in.  Yet, he had five children.  (I'll leave you to make the connection.)

    In my case, it was with a girl in my class when I was 11.  Let's call her Wang Mei Ling.  One day, someone noticed that Wang Mei Ling was absent.  Someone else asked me, "Wang Mei Ling?  Is that the girl with the glasses?"  I couldn't answer that question — my mind was a total blank as to the minor details.  Spectacles?  Fringe?  Long or short hair?  No idea.  (I'm the same with age as well.)

    As I now keep saying to people, "I only see the soul, I don't see the shell."

PS:  A good example of this is in blog https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2025/12/the-temple-in-mountains-nepal.html 

The original Mencius text that contained this phrase:

「習焉不察」出自《孟子·盡心上》。該段原文為：「行之而不著焉，習矣而不察焉，終身由之而不知其道者，眾也。」。這句話的意思是，很多人習慣了某種事物，反而沒有仔細去覺察其中的問題。

“习焉不察”出自《孟子·尽心上》。该段原文为：“行之而不着焉，习矣而不察焉，终身由之而不知其道者，众也。”。这句话的意思是，很多人习惯了某种事物，反而没有仔细去觉察其中的问题。

(google translate) The phrase "习焉不察" (xí yān bù chá) comes from Mencius, Book 7, Part 1. The original text reads: "They do things without realizing it, they become accustomed to them without examining them, and they follow them throughout their lives without understanding their true nature—this is the way of the masses." This means that many people become so accustomed to something that they fail to carefully observe the problems within it.

(AI says) Mencius lived from approximately 371 to 289 BC, though some sources suggest alternative dates such as 385 to 303 BC.  He was a Chinese philosopher during the late Zhou dynasty who is considered the second most important sage in Confucianism, after Confucius. 

(AI says) The Zhou Dynasty [周朝 Zhōu cháo] lasted from approximately 1046 BC to 256 BC, and is divided into the Western Zhou (1046–771 BC) and Eastern Zhou (771–256 BC) periods.  The Eastern Zhou is further divided into the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods.

Chinese characters: 07 (肥 / 胖 vs 瘦)

 

肥 / 胖 vs 瘦

féi / pàng vs shòu

"fat / fat" vs "thin, lean"

These Chinese characters are interesting for revealing cultural perspectives.

    The characters for "fat / obese" are written with the flesh radical (the left hand side of 肥 / 胖), yet the character for "thin / lean" is written with the sickness radical (the 疒 element in 瘦).

    (The radical part of a Chinese character indicates the category of the meaning, e.g., water radical characters are to do with water, be they nouns or verbs or adjectives: 池 chí / pond, 洗 xǐ / to wash, 清 qīng / clear [vs 濁 / 浊 zhuó / muddy].)

    This is to do with the historical situation, I think.

    With (among other things) the constant floods and famines, there was always the insecurity and worry about food being enough.

    A Chinese will comment on someone who has put on weight with "你發福了 / 你发福了 / nǐ fā fú le / "you have developed blessings", which AI says can be a joke, or is "tactful, diplomatic or euphemistic".  

    I think it can actually be a genuine compliment, especially in the old days, or with the older generation, because being fat means that one has enough to eat.

See also my mother's attempt at putting on weight:  https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2013/06/one-way-of-putting-on-weight-or-not.html