Showing posts with label Japanese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Japanese. Show all posts

Sunday, 31 May 2026

Chinese homophones: Taboo number

 

The Chinese (and the Japanese; maybe the Koreans, too) have taboo numbers that they'll try and avoid.

    The biggest-taboo number is 4 (四 sì), because it sounds a bit like "死 sǐ / die, death" -- just a difference in the tone.

    An obvious situation to avoid it is when it appears in a car registration number.  Most Chinese people would not want to tempt fate by driving a ton of steel around with "4 [/ death]" on it.  They'd get it changed, even if it's at great expense.

    In Japanese, the number 4 is read as よん / yon, as well as し / shi, which also sounds like "die / 死ぬ / shi-nu, death", so (from googling) Quote is mostly avoided in daily life, though it is still used in certain fixed phrases and formal contexts Unquote.

    For my SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies) BA degree course Special Subject, Japanese, one of the set texts was A Topical History of Japan.  In one of the chapters, mention was made of four men (in medieval Japan), with the reading for "the four men" being yo-nin / "four persons", because shi-nin sounds like "dead persons".

    Given my love of punning, I remember thinking at the time, "Well, if one were to read it wrongly, it wouldn't make any difference anyway, because they are indeed all dead."


Wednesday, 15 April 2026

Learner-friendly language in some ways: 00 (An introduction)


(This is my simplistic summary, not a serious pedagogic thesis.)

The Chinese language has a fearsome reputation in general, with so many seemingly insurmountable hurdles in the way of the learner who is brave enough to venture into its realm.

    The script is unique (the overlaps with Korean [pre-1970s] and Japanese [post 4th/5th centuries AD] are borrowings by those languages).  A lot of European languages share the same alphabet, which generally makes it easier for people from one European country to learn the language of another European country.

    The sounds:  Chinese is a tonal language, which most non-Chinese people have trouble managing.  (I'm only thinking of Mandarin which has four main basic tones [vs, say, Cantonese which has six], and standard readings [not tone changes when uttered in combination].)

    The grammar is not unique (in some ways, it's similar to German and Japanese, e.g., with the main verb coming at the end of the sentence -- my simplistic summary from my own limited knowledge), but it does vary quite a bit from English, the language that has been the global language.

    Now for the good news before you decide to give up on the language altogether:  there are elements to the language that make life much easier for the learner of Chinese (than for the learner of English).


Saturday, 4 April 2026

Osmosis: 03 (One strategy for honing language listening skills)


I'd chosen Japanese as my Special Subject for my BA degree at SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies, University of University).

    Those were the days before free access to recordings on the internet.  Language tapes were not that readily available in the West in the shops, or not cheap.

    I managed to get a very kind and helpful technician at SOAS to make me a set of the tapes used in the language lab sessions.

    No need to sit down and focus totally on the recordings.  Just play them at home as background sounds when doing quiet tasks like prepping for a meal (peeling potatoes or onions), ironing, or mopping the floor.

    No need to repeat after the recordings if you're doing it as a listening comprehension exercise, but it'll help if you try and make the sounds yourself as well, because to make the sounds yourself, your brain will be working harder, which will let everything sink in deeper.

    No need to match the speed of the recordings.  Never mind if you can't repeat the sentences as quickly as in the recordings, just do whatever you can.  You'll find that, with time, you'll be able to utter longer and longer strings of sounds as your brain and tongue become attuned and remember what's gone before.

    As I now keep saying to my Mandarin and English students when advising them on how to up their listening skills:  it'll be like listening to music.  Once you've listened to the same piece enough number of times, you will be able to hum it yourself, or spot a note that's played/sung wrongly, say.

(London, 1978–81)


Friday, 30 May 2025

The guardian angels in one's life: 04 (The university Personal Tutor)



There are two kinds of university tutors in the UK system:  


* Academic Tutor (who teaches) 

and 

* Personal Tutor (who looks after the non-studies-related side of the students’ experience, e.g., accommodation, getting settled in [especially if they’re from abroad or another city]).


    Dr. Paul Thompson was my Personal Tutor (as well as my Academic Tutor).


    He took me aside for a chat as soon as I was accepted on the course.


    “You are going straight into Year 2 because of your two years spent in Taiwan.


    Year 2 is modern Chinese language and literature, but you won’t have to put in too much work on that front because of your time spent in Taiwan.  You will also start doing Classical Chinese but you will still have time on your hands to explore what you want to do for your Special Subject.


    You had said at the interview that you already knew what your Special Subject would be — Japanese, which you won’t have to embark on until Year 3.  


    I suggest that you join the Japanese Year 1 course now instead of next year, because the first five weeks are intensive, with three hours in the morning and three in the afternoon.  If you don’t join them from Day 1, you’ll have trouble catching up in Week 2 as they’ll be 30 hours ahead of you by then.


    If, at the end of the five-week intensive course, you decide you don’t want to do Japanese after all, you can drop out and choose a different Special Subject for your Year 3, so you’re good and early on that.


    If, after the five-week intensive comes to an end, you feel that you want to carry on for the rest of the year, then you’ll end up doing a whole year of Japanese.


    At the end of that whole year in Japanese, if you decide you don’t want to do Japanese, you are still in good time to choose your Special Subject.


    If you want to carry on, then you’ll end up doing three years of your Special Subject instead of the usual two.”


    One could absolutely not fault his arguments at all.  It’s what we’d call a win-win situation these days.  I’d say it was a win-win-win-win as he’d offered four different perspectives.  He had an amazing brain that covered every corner of the field.


    (See also how he’d helped me decide on whether to do an MA or not:  https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2025/05/the-guardian-angels-in-ones-life-03-ex.html.)


    Thank you, dearest Paul, for flagging up all the right pointers for the path in the life of this Libran drifter who cannot decide on anything for herself.  I am eternally grateful.


(London, 1978)



Sunday, 27 April 2025

A bit of Catch 22: 02 (Google translate)

 

Some of my students have gone to google translate for decoding Chinese text, or for translating English text (in their own heads, say) into Chinese (for them to send out as messages, e.g.).  That’s how I come to learn of the mistakes in the translations. 


    Question is:  how are the students supposed to know that there are mistakes and where (/ which ones) they are? 


    The fact that they’d gone to google translate in the first place must mean that they didn’t know what the source text (e.g., Chinese text) is saying, or that they didn’t know how to render the English message in their heads into Chinese for sending out.  


    However, they will have to be good enough in both languages to detect the level of accuracy in the resultant translation.  And if they’re good enough in both languages, why then go to google translate? 


    This is, of course, a simplistic perspective just for the purpose of the focus of this blog (which is on the Catch 22 element of the exercise).  I have used it myself to test it out, or to help me out when I’m stuck for the right word / translation for something I’m working on, especially as a translator.


    I’m not discrediting google translate at all here, just toying with the Catch 22 element in this exercise.  It is a very useful tool a lot of the time, but the user needs to be of a certain level of proficiency in both source and target languages to know if the google translate version is right / good enough.  The user will at least need a high’ish level of proficiency for this, which would therefore exclude anyone of intermediate level and below, perhaps.  


    Still better than nothing?  Or is it potentially serious to end up with bad or, worse, wrong translations?  I have in mind translations that could give offence or result in disasters.


    One example of the potentially disastrous outcome of a wrong translation:


    A German friend on the Japanese degree course at SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies) in the 80s was asked to take over a summer job at a car factory in Luton, translating manuals, published in Japanese, containing technical terms used in the automobile industry.


    Being meticulous and sharp-minded, also well read and knowledgeable on a wide range of subjects, he spotted the English translation of a chemical that goes into car engines, which he felt was not right, so he went to the original Japanese text.  


    Sure enough, he found that the person who’d done that translation had picked the first of two similar-looking items on the list in the dictionary, without checking out the significance in the difference.  The Japanese language has long and short vowels.  That first translator had not only picked the wrong one but, worse, one that would blow the engine up.



Saturday, 12 March 2022

Incognito until…: 01 (Taiwan)


I decided to learn Japanese during my first winter in Taipei.

In my Beginners class at theYMCA, I was invisible as I looked just like the rest of the class.  Nobody gave me a second look.


Ditto in the Intermediate class — for the first couple of weeks.


The Intermediate level entailed a lot more, and harder, grammar than the Beginners level.  Everything was taught in Chinese.  I was making notes in English.


The teacher walked around the class as he was teaching.  Suddenly, he came to a halt beside me, and asked, in Chinese, “Why are you writing your notes in English?!?”  I said, “Because I’m from Singapore, and English is my first language.”  He took a longer look at me, as though he was trying to see if he could find some feature in me that would distinguish me from the rest of the class.  


My fellow students also perked up and took a fresh look at me.  After the lesson, I felt all eyes on me as I left the room, as if they, too, were trying to find out what might be different about me.


(Taiwan, 1975)



Friday, 9 March 2018

Marital bliss: 6 (London)


American John was doing his PhD at SSEES (School of Slavonic and East European Studies), University of London, when he started going out with Brazilian Celia who was doing Japanese at SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London).

She'd call him gringo*, he said, never John.

One night, he was woken up by her shaking him, "John!  John!  Wake up, John!"

He said, "I knew I was in trouble when she started calling me John."

Sure enough, she'd just had a dream in which he was kissing another woman, and was very angry with him.

(London, 1980s)

*gringo | ˈɡrɪŋɡəʊ | noun (plural gringos) informal (in Spanish-speaking countries and contexts, chiefly in the Americas) a person, especially an American, who is not Hispanic or Latino.  ORIGIN Spanish, literally ‘foreign, foreigner, or gibberish’.

See also:

Thursday, 15 February 2018

Marital bliss: 1 (London)

On my pub shift last Saturday, a white British customer in his 70s asked me where I was from.  (I get asked that a lot, with some amazing/outlandish guesses, like some country in Africa.)  


He said he had a Japanese wife, and had lived in Japan for a while.  I asked him if he spoke any Japanese.  He said, “Shut up.  Stupid.  Go away.  They’re the only Japanese I know, from what my wife said to me over the years.”


(London, 2018)


Update 050318:  Just gave this blog to an English student (who has a Chinese wife) to translate into Chinese, and he came up with the Chinese versions for "shut up", "stupid" and "go away" without any hesitation.  Wonder how he knows the Chinese for these terms so well...


See also:


Marital bliss:  2 (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2018/02/marital-bliss-02-london.html)


Marital bliss:  3 (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2018/02/marital-bliss-03-london.html)


Marital bliss:  4 (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2018/02/marital-bliss-04-london.html)


Marital bliss:  5 (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2018/02/marital-bliss-05-london.html)


Marital bliss:  6 (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2018/03/marital-bliss-06-london.html)


Advice from a man:  https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2019/09/advice-from-man-london.html 


Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Party drinking Oriental style


The Japanese do not pour alcoholic drinks for themselves at a social meal.

The Koreans apparently go by the same rule, as I discovered at first hand.  A group of 14 Koreans from the Korean Housing Board had come to London to study the UK’s housing policy.  

When they were going back to Korea, they invited me and their English language teacher to their farewell party.  I was the only woman.  

The Korean chap on my left poured out my drink for me.  After a sip, I put the glass down, but the chap urged me to finish it as the glass was needed.  This is unhygienic enough as it is, but to be pressured into finishing off one’s wine in order to free up the glass for one’s fellow diners is not my idea of fun.

The Chinese way of party drinking is for one person (from the host side) to raise his glass to the guest(s), say something like “Here’s to our friendship”, then down it in one go.  Some people will turn the glass upside down on their heads to show it’s empty.  Some will tilt the glass forwards to show the other person it’s empty.  Then, it’s the turn of the guest(s) to follow suit — not only to drink, but to drain the contents in one go as well.  

If you are at a banquet and make the mistake of going along with the first person’s invitation to drink, you will then need to do the same for the other eight diners at your table.  (A typical banquet table is for ten people, with ten courses.)  If you don’t, you will make them lose face (see blog entry Chinese hospitality etiquette 01*), so you’ll be forced to do it for all nine fellow diners.  When they’ve all individually proposed a toast to you, it’s then your turn to return the toast to each of them in turn.  This means that they’ll each down their drinks twice (once when they propose a toast to you, and once when you return the toast), whilst you will down yours 9 x 2 times.

Linguaphone, a world famous teach-yourself-language-course company, sold some English language course to China in the 1980s, then sent two employees out a bit later to find out what the Chinese thought of the course.  Let’s call them John and Robert.  It was John who told me the story.  

John and Robert were treated to a banquet, and the usual toasts, of 茅台 máotái (54%–55%, made of wheat and sorghum), were proposed, individually and in turn by  the eight Chinese.  

Robert was a 14-pints-a-night drinker, and thought the little glasses of the clear liquid that looks like water would be most innocuous.  After 16 rounds of this fiery liquid, Robert started to eat the flower arrangement in the middle of the table.  The Chinese just love to get someone drunk, so they were nudging each other and laughing, “Look how red his face is!”  Stone drunk, Robert was a deadweight and had to be half carried back to his hotel room, by two men trying to prop him up with a hand under each of his armpits, feet dragging along the ground.

My boss, Dr. Page, Chief Geologist at Conoco Taiwan, was once invited, alongside the Vice President, Mr. Bolleter, to a Chinese banquet-style dinner by the state oil company, our partners in our exploration for oil.  Both men are American, drink bourbon, and 6’ 6” and 6’ 4” respectively, so the Chinese expected them to be serious drinkers.  

The toast was first proposed to Mr. Bolleter as Vice President.  The drink served, kaoliang (高粱 gāoliáng), is made of sorghum, looks like water but is 54%–63% — its nickname is “Firewater of Taiwan”.  When the proposer of the toast downed his (spirit drink size) portion of kaoliang and tilted the small glass forward towards Mr. Bolleter, the latter thought, “That’s a small portion,” and downed his too.  Then, a flush spread from his neck up his face to his forehead, and his eyes were bloodshot.  The host side exchanged knowing looks and smiled.  The big tall American bourbon drinker was beaten by their kaoliang!

Dr. Page noticed that there was a potted plant next to him, so he chucked his kaoliang into the pot and replaced it with water.  When the toast was proposed to Dr. Page and he downed it in one go, the host side looked carefully for signs of the flush — none came.  Everyone was impressed.  A lot of machismo is attached to the ability to drink alcohol (equally to chilli eating).

Throughout the rest of the meal, Dr. Page matched each proposer glass for glass, and gained a lot of kudos.  

I don’t know what happened to the plant.  Undoubtedly had a huge hangover the next day…

(The Orient)