Different perspectives: 02 (China)

Saw a TV documentary back in the 1980s (when I had a set then) about British people in China in the 1930s (maybe Shanghai, maybe Tianjin).

    A white English woman described the kind of childhood she had back then:  big house, parties, servants for various duties, including a housekeeper who'd take the orders from the mistress before filtering them down to the different individuals.

    One day, the mother went into the kitchen to check on the proceedings for the dinner party.  She found the male cook washing the lettuce (for the salad) with a toothbrush to remove even the smallest bit of grit from between the folds.

    She was so surprised at this method of cleaning veg that she cried out, "What ARE you doing?!?"

    Misunderstanding her reaction, he said, "It's all right, Madam.  I'm using my own toothbrush, not yours."

    Salad was taken off the menu for the dinner party that evening.

(China, 1930s)

Different perspectives: 01

A friend has sent me this:

Quote

Dear Dad

Berlin is wonderful, people r nice and i really like it here bt Dad, i am a bit ashamed 2 arrive at my own college with my pure-gold Ferrari 599GTB, when my all teacher nd many fellow student travel by train.

your son,, Ahmed

My dear loving son.

20m US Dollar has jst been transferred to ur account.  please stop embarrassing us.  

Go and get yourself a train too.

Love, your Dad

Unquote

(I've left everything exactly as I found them, warts and all, because the warts might've been intentional on the part of the originator of the joke.)

Learner-friendly language in some ways: 04 (Numbers: Chinese vs English)

"Numbers are the most basic in one's life, being used all the time, yet the most difficult to master in a foreign language."  This was what a visiting scholar from mainland China said to me in the 1980s.

    I'm only using a small handful of examples, for illustrating my point, otherwise it'll be too long a blog.

1. one / 一 (yī)
2. two / 二 (èr)
3. three / 三 (sān)
4. four / 四 (sì)
5. five / 五 (wǔ)
6. six / 六 (liù)
7. seven / 七 (qī)
8. eight / 八 (bā)
9. nine / 九 (jiǔ)
10. ten / 十 (shí)
11. eleven / 十一 (shí yī / "ten one")
12. twelve / 十二 (shí èr / "ten two")
13. thirteen / 十三 (shí sān / "ten three")
14. fourteen / 十四 (shí sì / "ten four")
15. fifteen / 十五 (shí wǔ / "ten five')
16. sixteen / 十六 (shí liù / "ten six")
17. seventeen / 十七 (shí qī / "ten seven")
18. eighteen / 十八 (shí bā / "ten eight")
19. nineteen / 十九 (shí jiǔ / "ten nine")
20. twenty / 二十 (èr shí / "two ten")
21. thirty / 三十 (sān shí / "three ten")
22. forty / 四十 (sì shí / "four ten")
23. fifty / 五十 (wǔ shí / "five ten")
24. sixty / 六十 (liù shí / "six ten")
25. seventy / 七十 (qī shí / "seven ten")
26. eighty / 八十 (bā shí / "eight ten")
27. ninety / 九十 (jiǔ shí / "nine ten")

Inconsistencies in the English numbers (not in any order of importance): 

1. 11 (eleven) and 12 (twelve) are not identifiable as being related (to each other, nor to 13–19 which all have the common suffix "teen"); 13 to 19 are identifiable as being related to each other, with the suffix "teen" applied to all of them
2. 13 does not keep its base "three" (coming out as thirteen, not threeteen); 14 does (fourteen), but not 15 (fifteen, instead of fiveteen), yet 16, 17 and 19 do (sixteen, seventeen, nineteen), with 18 sort of conforming, yet not (losing a "t", i.e., not "eightteen") 
3. 20–90 are consistent in all having suffix "ty", but 20, 30, 40, 50 have not kept their base (twoty, threety, fourty, fivety), yet 60 (sixty), 70 (seventy), 80 (eighty) and 90 (ninety) have (except for 80, losing one "t", becoming "eighty", not "eightty")

    As you can see, English numbers are quite a higgledy-piggledy bunch, making life hard for the learner.

    The Chinese language is consistent, just going by the positioning of the single digits.  That's it.  No inconsistency as found in English, with twelve instead of twoteen for 12, thirteen instead of threeteen for 13, yet fourteen for 14, but fifteen instead of fiveteen for 15, then back to sixteen for 16 and seventeen for 17, but eighteen for 18 (instead of eightteen), then back again to nineteen for 19.  All over the place!

    The English set requires the learner to memorise the individual items, with no logic / pattern for predicting how they might/should be, and for when s/he forgets later and needs to rebuild.

    The Chinese way might be very logical and user-friendly to me, yet a white British student of mine, who'd started learning Chinese 30+ years ago, and is still learning it (not continuously all these decades, though), said she has difficulty processing 十二 shí èr / "ten two" for 12, and 二十 èr shí / "two ten" for 20 -- both for passive decoding (when hearing the two sounds) and for active production (of the two sounds in speech).

    Don't know if it's age (she's in her 80s), or if she's always had trouble on this front.  A lot of people have blind spots with various things in life, not just language learning, e.g., left vs right (a fairly common phenomenon from what I've seen).  (Will have to ask her.)

    I'm not complaining about English numbers (being all over the place) on my own behalf, because during my school days (and in my culture), one mostly just memorised (still does, maybe?) without demurring.  Good teachers would devise mnemonics for the student, like my geography teacher breaking up Mississippi into four separate sounds, "miss is sip pi", to help us get all the letters accounted for, and chemistry teacher Sister Dominic with "ka na cal mag al zinc fe con ni stan plumb" for the periodic table of chemical elements -- both of which I remember to this day, some six decades on.

    I'm sure there's some historical / linguistic explanation for numbers in English being the way they are presented (e.g., that it's the way it's done in Latin or Greek or something), but this blog is only a very superficial (and a bit fun / tongue-in-cheek) dip into how the Chinese language is not as difficult for the learner as people think -- that there are some learner-friendly aspects too.  So, I won't be delving into the roots for why/how numbers in English have turned out the way they have. 

Gratitude-poor Griper (London)

One of the people attending the church dinners on Wednesdays that I’ve been going to (not every week) is a man with hair down below his shoulders.  Name of Vladimir.  (Yes, happy to name and shame him.)

    The dinners are mainly for the homeless and those on low income, but all are welcome -- no one is asked questions about their financial situation, since it's a church and a charity.  After the meal, the homeless people sleep there for the night and have breakfast there the next day.

    The first time I met the vlady selfish man was in the queue outside, complaining that it was past 6pm and they hadn’t opened the doors yet.  I said maybe they were short staffed, adding that I was just grateful for the free food that was all cooked and served by volunteers who gave their time and effort unstintingly.  He didn't take the hint and carried on moaning, saying he was in a hurry.  What a selfish man.  It was all about himself.  I was tempted to say, "Well, then go and cook your own dinner.  See how much time you'll save."

    It wasn’t as if the weather was wet and horrible.  Even if it had been, I would’ve put up with it.  After all, we were getting a free meal without having to do anything but turn up.

    A couple of weeks ago, the ladies-only table was full, so I had to go to the one next to it, and sat down beside someone with long hair whose face I couldn’t see until it was too late.  I’d actually thought it was a woman.

    I should’ve got up and left the table when he looked up from his phone and I saw that it was him.

    He started expressing loudly his indignation about the other tables getting their food already but not ours.  No one at the table supported him.

    (All the work has to be done by the volunteers in charge of each table, right down to fetching salt and pepper.  That’s the rule there.)

    I said, “I’m just grateful that I’m getting free food, with all the work done for me,” hoping he’d take the hint and stop moaning.

    Not only didn't he take the hint, he actually started to turn his guns on the volunteers themselves, “What are they doing?  They’re not doing any work!!”  -- “not doing any work” like as if he was paying for it.  What a churlish chap.

    He said he had no time to wait.  I was tempted to ask him to go and make his meal himself:  spend money and time buying the ingredients, prepping it, cooking it (and paying for the electricity).  See how he’d like to be having to do all the work himself, and pay for it too.

    Being a coward who was brought up not to have a row in public (behaving like a fishwife) and therefore lacking rowing skills, I didn’t challenge him.  (I don’t even have rows in private.)

    Next, he accosted a female volunteer walking past, asking about his dinner.

    I was so disgusted by him I decided to skip the meal.

    I saw a woman (called Yesu, from Eritrea, who’d sat at the ladies-only table before) hovering outside, having just arrived but not admitted because they were full.  So I told the volunteers at the door that she could have my seat, and left.

    Yesu speaks very little English, so she wouldn't have understood most of the vlady whinger's griping, although it doesn't require any linguistic ability at all to feel the aggressive vibes from the vlady selfish man.

(London, 2026)

PS.1:  Some of you might've noticed the wordplay employed in this blog.  A deliberate decision, to defuse the stress a bit -- a bit of my Distraction Therapy.  Apart from naming and shaming him, of course, which gives me great pleasure (letting the world know about him).

PS.2:  Also, using the time-poor expression helps me achieve alliteration in the title.

(from googling) Quote The term "time-poor" (along with the broader concept of "time poverty") first emerged in sociological and economic literature in the late 1950s. Unquote

Cultural usage of language: 骂 mà / scold

The cultural usage of 骂 mà makes it tricky to translate adequately into languages that don't behave the same way.

    It is usually for bad or unacceptable behaviour or a misdeed.

    Mostly for telling off / disciplining those below (in the hierarchy: generation-wise, age-wise, position-wise), but not always. It can be a wife telling the husband off for doing something she doesn't approve of, like coming home drunk, or not helping her out with the chores.

    I see in more than one mainland Chinese drama series (on YouTube) that gate keepers often tell people off for returning after the gates are shut, or for ringing up the porter's lodge for someone after hours (without first finding out why -- it might've been an emergency). Late = stupid behaviour, for not sticking to the rules. Default action to take: 骂 mà.

    When I asked, in Mandarin, a bus driver in 1998, in the small bus terminus by the 嘉義 Chiayi / Jiāyì (S. Taiwan) train station, if his bus was going to 後湖里 (Hòuhú-lǐ, an area in the suburbs), his response was (in Mandarin), "Can't you see it says on the front that it's going to 水上 Shuǐshàng?!!?". To him, it should've been obvious to me (looking like one of them, and speaking fluent Mandarin) that since the destination on the front of his bus said 水上, it was not going to 後湖里.  I was, therefore, being stupid by asking about something so obvious, and deserved to be told off.  Default action to take: 骂 mà.

    An English-born student of mine who'd worked in China for years said a year or so ago that yes, Chinese people do indeed 骂 mà people a lot.

    As you can see, 骂 mà happens a lot. It was one of the reasons I decided not to accept one of the two translation jobs I was offered at two different universities in Fujian province in S.E.China. I'd gone there during the Easter break, job seeking in anticipation of being retrenched in London in the summer. A question put to the woman (mid-20s / early 30s?) at the train station ticket window earned me a ticking off, because like the bus driver in Chiayi, she thought it was a stupid question, as the answer was obvious. A brief enquiry presented to a city bus driver another day also netted me a ticking off. I decided in the end that I couldn't face so much grumpiness on a regular basis over an entire year.

    Ah, an antidote story to prove that it wasn't me being a shrinking violet. A woman from mainland China was doing her Masters degree in Nottingham (east Midlands). She told me how touched she'd been when, one day, she asked a bus driver if his bus was the right one for place X.

    Her account (my words from how I remember it): "The bus driver told me no -- to get to place X, I was to catch bus Y. He then proceeded to give me directions for where to catch bus Y: down the street this way, turn left at the junction 10 yards on, and there's the bus stop for bus Y."

    She added, "Not only was he so patient and kind, which wouldn't happen in China, but no one in the queue building up behind me throughout this conversation complained -- they just patiently waited until I had my needs attended to. This wouldn't have happened in China. In the first place, the driver would just tell you his bus is not the right one, and expect you to go away, leaving you to your own devices. The people behind would also start to grumble loudly that you're holding them up."

    The most common translation for 骂 mà is "to scold". I think it's used a lot in Singlish (Singapore English, which is a form of English based on Chinese in syntax, vocab and usage of language).

(From googling) to scold:  Quote To speak to someone angrily or harshly because you disapprove of their behavior. It typically involves reprimanding or chiding someone (often an adult scolding a child) for making a mistake or doing something wrong. Unquote

    British English doesn't use "scold" much. More "to tell sb off / to get told off / to get a telling off / to tick sb off / to get ticked off / to get a ticking off". (sb = somebody)

(From googling)

Quote

In British English, "scold" is understood but rarely used in everyday speech. It usually sounds formal, old-fashioned, or is strictly used when an adult is correcting a young child or an animal.

For typical, everyday situations, native speakers in the UK prefer to use different, more localized terms depending on the context:

• Telling off: The most common, everyday term for reprimanding someone (e.g., "The teacher told me off for being late.").
• Giving a bollocking / Rollicking: Highly common and colloquial British slang for a very harsh or angry telling-off.
• Giving a talking-to: A milder, more diplomatic way of saying you had a serious conversation with someone about their bad behaviour.
• Reprimanding / Admonishing: The preferred formal terms used in professional workplaces or written contexts.

Unquote

No such thing as a free lunch (China)

In the mainland Chinese drama series (set in the China of 1977–92) that I was watching last year, the daughter of one of the neighbours in the alley community decides to go and pay a Chinese New Year visit to the high school teacher a few doors away.

    She's looking in the cupboard for something to take with her (green tea most likely). Her father says, "There's no need to take a gift." She says, "I/We might need his help later on when my younger brother goes to high school."

    I'm now watching a different series, aired 2022, probably set around that time: people use mobile phones; a lot of them drive; two people drink red wine practically all the time when at home; they eat Western food in swish restaurants (beef steak, with knife and fork).

    A cancer patient in hospital, in his 70s and who has a big company, hears about a boy's accident on a construction site, incurring major injuries. He wants to pay for the boy's treatment and hospital stay, saying, “积点德，看我能不能多活几年” (English subs: accumulate some virtues for myself, maybe I can live for a few more years)

(China, 1977–92 / 2022)

* 德 dé is another problematic word, usually translated as "virtue" which doesn't carry the same cultural value in English as it does in Chinese. (I don't know other languages well enough to know.)

Linguistic False Friends: 03 (English / Chinese: Wordplay)

I've been teaching English conversation to a group of Hong Kong incomers at a community centre in north London, as a volunteer.

    For the lessons, I try and incorporate things British:  British English [vs American English, which a lot of people around the world are familiar with, having watched American films and videos];  British food;  British sense of humour;  etc.).

    One British trait, shared by the Chinese, that I've brought up in class is the love of wordplay, particularly in tabloid newspapers and adverts.

    When I first asked the students what "wordplay" meant, a number of them immediately said "crossword puzzle".  (That was in November last year when I took over the class -- their regular volunteer teacher had found paid work.)

    This is probably because the Chinese verb "玩(儿) wán(er) / to play" is used a lot in everyday life.  (The "儿 ér" is the tongue-curling sound that northern speakers add to the end of lots of sounds, both verbs and nouns -- not used by southern speakers.)

    It is another cultural-usage word that poses translation problems, which I shall cover in greater detail in a blog of its own.  For now, it's simpler just to say that to the Chinese-speaking brain, "wordplay" seems to = "word game" (from the "玩 wán / play" link), and therefore ends up being "crossword puzzle".

    The group has just started a new term, with fresh members.  For revision and for the newcomers to catch up on what they'd missed, I asked what "wordplay" meant.  One of the new students said: "Crossword puzzle".

    I shall have to start using "a play on words" from now on.  (It'll be interesting to see if they still think it's "crossword puzzle"...)

* (From googling)  Quote Word play is a broad literary technique used to manipulate sounds and meanings (like puns or riddles). A crossword puzzle is a structured, grid-based word game. The key distinction is that word play is a creative device, while a crossword is a formalized puzzle solved by deducing exact answers to fit an intersecting grid. Unquote

* (From googling)  Quote In the UK, "Hong Kong incomers" refers to individuals and families who have migrated from Hong Kong, typically arriving via the British National (Overseas) [BN(O)] humanitarian visa route. Over 180,000 Hong Kongers have used this pathway to relocate to the UK, settling into communities across the country. Unquote

Linguistic False Friends: 02 (Teochew / Cantonese: Stingy)

This is another one that has already been posted as a blog a while ago:

https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2022/03/linguistic-reefs-singapore.html 

Linguistic False Friends: 01 (Indonesian / English: Air)

I've just discovered that this has already been written up a long time ago (September 2025), before I'd thought of doing a series:

https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2025/09/linguistic-false-friend-singapore.html.

Linguistic False Friends: 00 (An introduction)

(From googling)

Quote

Words or expressions in two different languages that look or sound similar, but have completely different meanings. They often lead to hilarious misunderstandings or embarrassing mistakes for language learners.

• English / Spanish --> Embarrassed: Looks like embarazada, but actually means feeling ashamed. Embarazada means pregnant.
• English / French --> Library: Looks like librairie, but is a place where you borrow books. A librairie is a bookstore.
• English / German --> Gift: Looks like the English present, but in German, it means poison.

How to Avoid the Trap

• Context is King: Always translate phrases rather than individual words.
• Learn the Roots: Understanding a language's etymology can help you see why words diverged.
• Mnemonics: Make up funny mental stories connecting the foreign word to its actual definition to break the habit of associating it with your native language.

Unquote

Benign paper tiger: 03 (The stronger students) (London)

One of the things the fearsome cardiology head's underlings said of him ("The promising students, you will tick off", in https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2026/05/paper-tiger-01-china.html) found resonance with me for how I'd treated (and still do) my stronger students. I'd challenge them more because they were (/are) good enough to stand up to it.

    (See also https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2026/05/benign-paper-tiger-02-weaker-students.html for how I'd treat weaker students.)

    Some of my efforts with the stronger students, however, didn't always get understood either (which I only discovered later). (The "either" here refers to the weaker students not appreciating my efforts to make them feel included, being given easier sentences to do in class.)

    My teaching is delivered on a three-prong basis:

(i) exam-geared -- therefore must follow the brief and deliver whatever is being tested, e.g., grammar or vocab / usage of language;

(ii) classroom exercise -- I'd give them as many variations as they can take, because they might come across different versions in real life (different accents / usage of language by people from different parts of China, not to mention what I call "the other regions", i.e., Taiwan, Hong Kong, S.E.Asia, just to name three);

(iii) real life -- I'd teach them coping techniques, e.g., if they don't know the precise Chinese for X, try to put something together, even if it's long-winded. ("Silence = no communication / no message conveyed" is what I drill into them.)

    For the stronger students, therefore, and for what I call "the classroom exercise", if they were to give me the correct answer X, I'd throw them as many alternatives as there might be for X (or as many as I can think of).

    This didn't go down well with one of them, however, but luckily she did come out and tell me about it -- only two years later, though. (It gave me a chance to clear my "wicked witch" label.)

    I'd taught her when she was in Year 2. I was a part-time teacher on the evening programme but given her (full time degree programme) class to teach for a translation module.

    She then went away for her Year Abroad, and I ran into her when she came back for her final year (Year 4).

    Being always around, working the longest hours though only a half-post / half-salary teacher (yes, stupid me), I saw her outside the Section Head's office across the corridor from mine, but the latter was not in. After she'd hung around for a while, I thought I'd say hello and help her kill some time, asking how her Year Abroad had been, etc.

    Then, for some reason, she blurted out, "You didn't like me when you were teaching my class [in Year 2]."

    Huh?!? How on earth had she got that impression? She'd been the best student in her class. (I know, I know, it doesn't logically / automatically follow that one should like the best student, because they could be obnoxious, e.g., arrogant or something.)

    She said, "Because every time I gave you a version in the translation exercise, you'd give me another rendition. I could never get it right, it seemed. You were never satisfied with my offering."

    Oh my goodness. Poor girl, carrying it around for the whole of Year 2, then the whole of the Year Abroad, thinking that this teacher didn't like her and kept picking on her. What a burden to be carrying around for so long, poor girl.

    I said, "Oh dear, poor you!" and explained the principle behind how I treat students of different ability levels.

    I added, "It was because you were the best in class that I always threw alternatives your way. You were good enough in your language ability to absorb the variations and alternatives. I wouldn't do that with a weaker student, because they won't be able to take it."

    The look on her face was amazing to witness, as the significance of my treatment of her translation efforts in Year 2 dawned on her.

    A look of gratified enlightenment came into her eyes as the new perspective was pointed out to her. It then spread to her mouth in the form of a smile of self-approbation, being told that she'd been treated differently because she was deemed capable of taking the extra load as she was the best student in the class.

    A bit after that conversation in the corridor, she asked me for help with her revision (I wasn't given hours to teach her class, so I had nothing to do with her assessments and exams). I teach a lot of the application of strategies and tricks, so my guidance gave her a good grounding for what I call "Guessology" (my coinage). It's a particularly useful skill for Chinese as it's so different from European languages.

    When she got a job after graduation in an organisation dealing with the Chinese market, she asked me to give her private tuition for her professional language needs.

    I was very relieved to have had the chance to clear my "wicked witch" image.

(London, 1990s)

Benign paper tiger: 02 (The weaker students) (London)

I found resonance with the "The unpromising students, you won't tick off" in the summary of the benign paper tiger head given by his favourite underling in https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2026/05/paper-tiger-01-china.html.

    It is the principle I've adhered to in my teaching -- with evening class students, and now private students.

    I'd give easier sentences to weaker students, partly so that it wouldn't show them up in public, partly to give them a sense of achievement (that they were actually able to translate a sentence).

    This didn't always work to plan, though.

    Some of the students were so weak that even those easier sentences were too difficult, resulting in an outburst that was totally the opposite effect of my original intention (to make them feel that they were not that bad after all).

    One of them (a bloke in a beginner class, evening programme) felt shown up and swore at me ("You stupid woman!", which made some of the students gasp). (This is absolutely the wrong attitude to take with the teacher in the Chinese cultural context, so he was not only wrong for the language, he was wrong on a broader scale for the whole experience. One doesn't just learn the language, it's the whole cultural package that comes with it.)

    Another (a full-time degree final year student) burst into tears when she couldn't translate the sentence I gave her, and stormed out of the classroom with, "You're always picking on me!" (I was a part-time teacher being given a translation slot for this final year class for that year only, so I'd played no part in their earlier years on the programme.)

    The third one (an evening programme student) said the same thing ("You're always picking on me!") but at least didn't walk out.

(London, 1980s / 1990s)

Benign paper tiger: 01 (China)

In the modern mainland Chinese drama series (aired 2022) that I'm watching at the moment, the head of cardiology is a fearsome man:  fearsome with his tongue, and fearsome with his temper.

    After a heated disagreement with a particular underling (whose father is an old friend of his) about a new medical project, he later told the underling that what he'd said in the argument was for his own good, adding that he was not to take it to heart being the most ticked off of the lot.

    The underling said:

    大家给你总结了：三个骂，三个不骂。心情好的时候骂，心情不好不骂，有出息的学生骂，没出息的学生不骂，当着内行的面骂，当着外行的面不骂。

    (Their English subs, my punctuation) Quote Everyone has summed up the three scenarios where you would and wouldn’t scold. You’ll scold when you’re in a good mood, and won’t scold if it’s otherwise. You’ll scold good students, and not the bad ones. You’ll scold in front of those in the same field, and not in front of outsiders. Unquote

    (My translation) Quote Everyone's summed you up: there're three situations when you'd tell us off; three when you won't.

    When you're in a good mood, you'll tell us off. When you're in a bad mood, you won't.

    The promising students, you will tick off. The unpromising students, you won't [tick off].

    You will reprimand students in front of those in the profession, but not in front of outsiders. Unquote

(China, 2022)

PS: The cultural use of 骂 mà makes it tricky to translate adequately into languages that don't behave the same way. It needs a bit of explanation, as it's used a lot, which I shall do in a different blog, as it can be long.

Choosing to share or not: 03 (A dollop of ice cream)

At the church dinner this week, there was actually some ice cream with the dessert.

    This church dinner, on Wednesdays, is for the homeless and those on low income, but everyone else is welcome. The homeless people then sleep in the church for the night while the rest of us go home.

    Dinner is a set offering every week:  a main course of roast chicken (with gravy), plain rice and boiled veg (usually peas, sometimes with a bit of broccoli).  The first course of lentil soup has been taken off, maybe because it's a winter dish?  The dessert has been apple crumble with custard in the last five months that I've been dining there (not every Wednesday), but last week, it was plum-and-berry crumble, no custard.  This week, a scoop of ice cream as well -- for the first time (in my experience anyway).

    The Somali woman next to me (in her 50s??) was delighted, I could see from her face, so when second helpings of crumble were dished out, I offered her my scoop of ice cream.

    She tried to decline, not wishing to appear to be greedy (especially since we'd only just met), which is very similar to the Chinese practice / upbringing.  I could tell, though, that it would make her very happy -- even though it was only a dollop.

    To get her to agree, and to assuage her feeling of appearing to be greedy and selfish, I said, "It gives me greater enjoyment to let you have my share of the ice cream than eating it myself."

    It convinced her.  She was very touched, and accepted it.

    Her enjoyment was my reward.  A small kindness goes a long way -- for both sides.

(London, 2026)

Choosing to share or not: 02 (A recipe)

A then-student (French, with her mother having half English blood) told me something very interesting at least two decades back.

    Her mother, when asked for the recipe of a dish that the guest(s) had found most delicious, would hand it over (as a handwritten copy in those days) -- but with some ingredient(s) missing, so that it wouldn't turn out to be the same flavour (or as tasty).

    Is this competitiveness on a cultural basis (i.e., is it a common French practice) or on a gender basis?

    Or just personal: my student's mother was just protecting her own interests (which is very wise practice -- not to be over-generous in sharing)?

    I know what reader Valerio will say: not on the first two counts -- too much of a generalisation!

Choosing to share or not: 01 (Helping the newcomer)

The mainland Chinese drama series (aired in 2022, probably set around that time) I'm watching at the moment has the female protagonist being picked by the new boss to be his PA (Personal Assistant) from being a cashier at the cake shop, which is much further down the chain of the company's businesses.

    The whole office (all female staff, bar one) is abuzz with bristling indignation at who she might be to have got promoted so spectacularly -- or, more importantly, what she might be to him.

    The boss tells her to get one of the office staff to show her the ropes.  When she asks a female colleague what she is/has to do specifically, the reply is:  

    "眼里有活儿就行 / (English subtitles) You just need to see where there's work to be done." 

    Other translations for the reply 眼里有活儿就行 are:

    (AI translation) Just be proactive / Just see what needs to be done

    (my translation) Just use your initiative

    Googling tells me the meaning behind the phrase is:

    一个很常用的职场和生活化用语，意思是：一个人有眼力见儿，能够主动发现需要做的工作，并主动去完成，不需要别人叮嘱或催促。

    (google translate) Quote A commonly used term in both the workplace and everyday life, meaning: a person is perceptive and can proactively identify tasks that need to be done and complete them without needing reminders or prompting from others. Unquote

    This reply by the female colleague is very obviously a form of stonewalling, out of professional and sexual jealousy.  (The new boss is young -- in his mid-/late-30s? -- and suave.)

    (From googling)  Quote. Stonewalling is a refusal to communicate, cooperate, or engage in a discussion, often acting as a "stone wall" to block interaction. It involves shutting down, avoiding, or evading questions, commonly seen in relationships (as a form of the silent treatment) or politics to avoid scrutiny.  Unquote

    This reminds me of when I was about to leave Singapore for London, back in 1977, and the new secretary was brought in a week early to overlap with me, so that I could show her the ropes.

    I went over all the usual work duties and tasks:  the filing, sending out telexes, the technical lingo (this was an American company, WKM Valves, supplying mainly, but not only, to the oil and gas industry), etc.

    I taught her behind-the-scenes tricks as well, which was outside my remit, e.g., how to correct typing mistakes in a telex tape (which looks fiendish, if not well nigh impossible, but is easy once you know the trick) instead of starting afresh, which would thus save her a lot of time and stress, not to mention earning a poor work reputation.  It was something I'd learned during my three months as telex operator for Conoco Singapore before I got my Private Secretary's Certificate exam results from the London Chamber of Commerce and started working as a legal secretary for law partnership Boey, Ng and Wan.

    Work-related issues aside, I also showed her where to go for lunch:  a hawker centre nearby but tucked away, not visible from our office block by the main road.

    For those who don't know Singapore:  the hot and humid climate means that it's physically sapping to walk even 10 yards, so knowing exactly where to go is useful, as it saves one having to find places by trial and error.  She was grateful for this reason.

    I also gave her a phone number for ordering lunch to be delivered to the office, for a small charge.  In those early days (1977), there was no internet to help one search.  Food delivery service was also not common, in my experience, if it existed at all.  One either knew (e.g., through the man actually coming round to advertise or drop off their contact details, say, a name card), or one didn't.  Singaporeans were not in the habit of making sandwiches for a lunch box -- not as tasty as a local-cuisine meal.  So, knowing where to go for cheap and delicious local food, never mind within walking distance as well, was a knowledge gem.

    My replacement (in her late 20s or early 30s) said to me, "I've worked at a number of places.  You're the first person to share all your knowledge with me, unstintingly, even beyond your professional remit.  People have always been reluctant to help, or at least not been as generous."

    My reply, 

    "The way I see it is:  we're not in competition.  I've already established my reputation with the bosses here -- they offered me the post after my first day as a temp.  I don't see what there is to feel threatened by.

    "Even in competition, one doesn't have to climb up by pushing other people down.  One uses one's own abilities to go up, without having to shine a negative light on other people.

    "If you're capable, the boss(es) will see it, without having to compare you with other people.

    "It is also in my upbringing and in my nature to be as helpful to people as possible."

(China / Singapore)

Instinctive reaction from upbringing: 04 (Sharing food and drink)

On the Florence to Rome train in September 1981, I sat next to a dour Italian peasant woman who very kindly gave me her second salami roll (which later struck me might've been her dinner for the second leg of her Florence–Naples journey).  A touching encounter (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2011/07/firenze-roma-train.html), which turned into a guardian-angel story (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2026/05/the-guardian-angels-in-ones-life-15.html).

    She also tried to share her already-opened can of cola with me after the salami roll lunch, although she did wipe the opening with a tissue first before offering it to me.  I was politely adamant about not taking up her kind offer.

    My upbringing also drew the line at taking a bite out of a half-eaten apple offered to me by a good friend, even though we had, by then (in the 90s), known each other for around a decade and I love him dearly.

    My W.Australia-based nephew and his wife (from Malaysia) spent a few days in London after their tour of Europe.  Out on the bus one day, he drank from his bottle of water with the mouth of the bottle an inch or so above his lips.

    This seems to be quite a common, though not universal, practice among Chinese people that I've observed on a number of occasions.  It is so that they can share the water with other people.  A good habit, I must say.

Instinctive reaction from upbringing: 03 (Using one's own chopsticks)

In a Chinese restaurant in London's Chinatown one day in the 1980s, next to me was a table of Chinese people, numbering about ten.

    From their verbal interactions, I worked out that they were either Singapore or Malaysian Chinese from the Teochew dialect group -- which is my dialect group, therefore should be fairly similar in their cultural practices to me.

    Visually, it was also obvious that they were three (or four?) generations of the same family sharing a meal out:  a grandma, a couple of young children below 10, with the rest being the generation(s) between.

    There was a lot of criss-crossing of chopsticks at the table as everyone (except the ones below the age of 15) helped everyone else to the spread in the middle of the table.

    I was struck by how different they were to my family:  we never did anything of the kind, and certainly not to use our own chopsticks to pick up food to put in the bowls of other people, even if they were family.

    The mainland Chinese drama series I was watching on YouTube a little while ago (set in the China of 1977–92, which has inspired quite a few blogs here) has a fair number of eating scenes.

    Members of the same family would pick up morsels from various dishes to put in the bowls of other members, mostly parents for their (especially younger) children, or grandparents for their grandchildren.

    (This is a fairly typical manifestation of the hierarchy of caring within the Chinese family:  the middle generation looking after the ones above and below, or the grandparent generation selecting bits of food for their grandchildren, as a show of affection.)

    However, this picking up of food for other people with one's own chopsticks is also done across relationship boundaries:  between good friends and neighbours even.

    I'm now watching another mainland Chinese drama series on YouTube.  There is a scene with three people, who are colleagues as well as good friends and neighbours, eating a hotpot meal with their bakery shop manager (who is not a nice man and whom they don't like).  Here are my notes:

    Quote 今生有你.2 (15:00) hot pot meal, they dip their own chopsticks into the hot pot!!; serving girlfriend with own chopsticks is acceptable given their intimate relationship, but picking up raw ingredients to put into the hot pot [that everyone else will be dipping into], even stirring the raw ingredients around, is uggh. Unquote

Chinese hospitality etiquette: 04 (夾菜 / 夹菜 / jiā cài)

(From googling) 

Quote 

夾菜 / 夹菜 / jiā cài refers to using chopsticks or other utensils to pick up food from a plate and move it to one's own or another person's bowl. This is a very common dining gesture in Chinese cuisine and can also be used to describe politely offering food to guests at the table.

Unquote

I grew up with fairly strict rules of hygiene, which included using communal chopsticks and serving spoons even when eating with one's own family members.

    The mother of my then-colleague Peggy in Taipei was obviously brought up the same way.

    The standard Chinese code of behaviour at a meal when a guest is present:  

(i) the guest must not be seen to be greedy, so s/he will hold back on helping himself/herself to the dishes in the middle of the table (Chinese style with various dishes shared by everyone),

(ii) the host/hostess must not be seen to be stingy, so s/he will pile up food in the guest's bowl, on top of the rice -- repeatedly throughout the meal. 

    When fetching food for me, Peggy's mother would use the other end of her chopsticks, AND make sure I was made aware of this, by pointing out each time, "I'm using the other end of my chopsticks."

    It's a practice I've taken on board since then (1975 -- prior to that, I was too young to play the hostess role), and which I've always explained to my friends here in the West.