scruta

I saw the following two ads on the subway in Shanghai (I apologize for the poor photography):

The ads were interesting for two reasons. First, the prominence of English in the advertisements was clearly directed at a very particular market, foreigners in Shanghai. I guess Qingdao has finally reconciled itself as the “beer of expats.” Second, the relationship between the message given in English and Chinese was markedly different.

Here’s the Chinese from the first ad:

The Chinese loosely translates: “In China, if you’re late drink three glasses [of beer]. The punishment is a form of politeness; The taste is a form of refreshment.”

The commentary on the custom in the Chinese is conspicuously absent from the English version.

Rewritten: 在中国喝酒，会说“青岛啤酒”，可能比会说“你好”更重要

The Chinese loosely translates: “When going out for drinks in China, being able to say “Qingdao Beer” could be more important than being able to say “hello.”

Here the Chinese emphasizes the importance of “Qingdao Beer,” instead of suggesting how much fun it is to learn to say “Qingdao Beer” in Chinese.

In English the ads target a market seen as wanting to learn Chinese and improve understanding of Chinese culture. In Chinese, the ads target a market where it is trying justify itself as a brand important in social interactions, especially interactions with those who might find “青岛啤酒“ more important than “你好”.

[Ferret is sitting at a take-out burrito joint, enjoying a meal at the small counter for patrons who just can’t wait to take their food home. Two Chinese Girls walk in, chattering. They walk up to the Waitress and order.]

Chinese Girl #1

你好。

Hello.

Waitress

你好。

Hello.

Chinese Girl #1

我们要买那个蜂蜜酸奶。是多少钱的呀？

We want to buy the yogurt with honey. How much is it?

Waitress

八块钱一杯。

Eight kuai a cup.

Chinese Girl #1

好啦。两杯。

Okay, two cups.

[The Waitress walks over the the refrigerator and takes out two cups, which she then begins to fill with honey. The Chinese Girls begin to talk quickly, and Ferret loses interest as the conversation exceeds his concentration and understanding. Something about school. He figures they probably go to the music college nearby. Due to hunger and the deliciousness of the burrito, he loses himself eating. He lets out a cough while clearing his throat. The Chinese Girls stop talking and notice him sitting there for the first time. Chinese Girl #1 and Ferret exchange a glance. Ferret returns to eating his burrito.]

Chinese Girl #1

[to Chinese Girl #2]

他很帅。

He’s good looking.

Ferret

你觉得吗？

You think so?

[There is dead silence. The Chinese Girls give Ferret a look as if he’s made disparaging remarks about a relative. The Waitress is silent, too. Awkwardness floods the room. Ferret has no idea what to do to alleviate the situation.]

Ferret

不好意思

Excuse me.

Chinese Girl #1

[turning her back to Ferret, towards Chinese Girl #2, whispering:]

他会说。

He can speak [Chinese].

Schizoforeignic – adj. acting as if afflicted by an acute psychosis due to being a foreigner in a strange land, unsure of where one belongs

[Ferret walks outside of a music bar. He’s upset. He just played a set of his original music, and the crowd remained nonplussed. In fact, so much so that you could hear the cute bartender at the back of the room rapping her nails on the bar it was so quiet. They had all expected AC/DC and Guns ‘n’ Roses, and all they got was quirky indie folk. He sighs. A Beggar working the door of the bar comes up to him begging.]

Beggar

[shoving a cup in Ferret‘s direction]

The money. Hey, the money. Money-a.

[Ferret ignores him, but the Beggar continues:]

Beggar

好朋友阿! The money! 老朋友!

Hey buddy! The money! Old pal!

Ferret

You know, man, I just don’t get it sometimes. I feel like it’s just crazy being here. Like for the kind of music I play I should be back in America or something. I don’t know why I stay here. I get so lonely, you know?

Beggar

哎? 一块. 朋友, 给我一块吧!

Huh? One kuai. Give me one kuai!

Ferret

It’s like… I don’t know why I came to China sometimes, you know? It doesn’t make any sense to me, but still I stay. It keeps giving me reasons to stay, and I keep taking them because I don’t see any better option. But how long can I keep this up? How long? I’ll never be Chinese, you know?

Beggar

你在去另外的酒吧吗?

Are you going to another bar?

Ferret

我不知道. 我这个酒吧的人不喜欢我.

I don’t know. The people here don’t like me.

Beggar

你会去. 你们外国人喜欢去酒吧, 对吗?

You’ll go. All you foreigners like to go to bars, don’t you?

Ferret

I don’t know, man. I just don’t know.

Beggar

哎, 朋友, 你给我一块钱吗?

Hey, buddy, you’ll give me a kuai, right?

Ferret

Man, do you know what I should do? If I should stay in China or not? This is driving me crazy.

[The Beggar gets tired of dealing with Ferret and waits for another bargoer to come out. Ferret waits for a moment, sighs, walks to the street and hails a cab.]

[Ferret is sitting at a bar, talking shit with Hummingbird. She is at least six drinks in on the night, and as usual, engages in manic, frenetic conversation:]

Hummingbird

Do you know about the 4-2-1 model?

Ferret

The what?

Hummingbird

The 4-2-1 model. It’s an idea about China and shit, man.

Ferret

What is it?

Hummingbird

[gesticulating wildly with her hands as she speaks]

Okay, so you’ve got the Chinese grandparents here, and there’s four of them. And then they can only have one kid each, so there’s two, and they put all their money into them, getting them a good education and nice living standards and stuff. And they’re all Chinese so they save lots, you know? So then these two parents now only have one kid, and they benefit from all this wealth and stuff, you know?

Ferret

So each generation is exponentially richer than the last because all of their resources can only be poured into one kid?

Hummingbird

Yeah, basically. You see, and that’s why there’s a huge market for anything in China. There’s just such a wealth of money here. Especially in Shanghai. You can sell anything you want here. You know?

Ferret

Yeah, I guess so.

***

I wonder about this model for a society in a state where negative population growth results in a sharp rise in per capita incomes. Books like A Farewell to Alms suggest that the Black Death in 14th century Europe was a contributing factor to the advent of the Renaissance.

What? Will the policies of China’s authoritarian regime accomplish what a lethal bacterium did centuries ago? Are we at the beginning of a Chinese Renaissance?

[A new building is about to open to the public, a giant 50-story monster of an office building soaring towards the sky. The marble for the new plaza in front of the building is being laid, but all the workers have stopped working. They are watching Project Manager Wang is talking heatedly with Procurement Officer Liu.]

Wang

What were you thinking?

Liu

I just thought that the number for the marble you chose was written improperly. I meant no disrespect.

Wang

Are you questioning my judgment?

Liu

Absolutely not. It’s just that the marble that you told me to buy was very slick, and-

Wang

And what?

Liu

And I thought that people might slip on it when it rains.

Wang

You understand nothing! Everyone knows that all plazas in China have to have bands of ultra-slick marble crisscrossing them!

Liu

I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Please accept my apologies.

Wang

How many projects have you worked on?

Liu

Not nearly as many as you.

Wang

That’s right! So-

[Wang sighs, then starts:]

What would happen if we didn’t have people watching where they were going when it was raining? Making sure they don’t slip?

Liu

I don’t know.

Wang

Chaos, Liu. Chaos. Get that expensive, coarse marble out of here and order a truckload of the slickest marble you can find.

I was on an overnight train back from HK, and I was having trouble sleeping. I often become very anxious when I travel. I attribute this to the fact that traveling always puts me in a state of limbo where I can see clearly where my life has been and where it is going. Before I know it, I have been going over things in my past for hours.

In an effort to try and break myself away from self-study, I decided to take a walk through the train. While I did so, I saw a framed poster of a poem of eight lines. Behind it was a picture of two doves flying over an idyllic vista of the Great Wall, surrounded by lush green trees radiating from a spongy pool of red at the bottom of the poster. Overall, the poster had the effect of one of those rather cheesy motivational posters you see in the offices of middle managers. I was only able to read about half of the poem, so I decided to copy it down and check it when I got back to Shanghai. Here’s what it said:

树立社会主义荣辱观

以热爱祖国为荣、以危害祖国为耻，

以服务人民为荣、以背离人民为耻，

以崇尚科学为荣、以愚昧无知为耻，

以辛勤劳动为荣、以好逸恶劳为耻，

以团结互助为荣、以损人利己为耻，

以诚实守信为荣、以见利忘义为耻，

以遵纪守法为荣、以违法乱纪为耻，

以艰苦奋斗为荣、以骄奢淫逸为耻。

After researching a bit online, it turns out that it is Hu Jin Tao’s famous declaration Eight Honors and Eight Shames. Here’s a translation:

A Look at the Contributions and Harms to the Formation of a Socialist [Society]

Love, do not harm the motherland.

Serve, don’t disserve the people.

Uphold science; don’t be ignorant and unenlightened.

Work hard; don’t be lazy and hate work.

Be united and help each other; don’t gain benefits at the expense of others.

Be honest and trustworthy, not profit-mongering at the expense of your values.

Be disciplined and law-abiding instead of chaotic and lawless.

Know plain living and hard struggle; do not wallow in luxuries and pleasures.

(NOTE: The translation isn’t mine, and isn’t the most literal translation I found, but it’s the best for meaning. It’s apparently from the China Youth Daily. I got it here. There are several other translations included as well.)

From what I’ve observed of life in Shanghai, I can understand the need to display this pronouncement on a Shanghai-bound train…

The lights of HK in the evening,

Flickering in all of their glory

Like a Christmas tree that

Fell into the South China Sea,

But somehow managed to

Continue to burn as the lights

And ornaments floated to the surface,

Which sprite-ly creatures used to adorn their homes

Rising towards the sky.

+++

I think of it fondly

As I would a nice dream,

A place that radiates in my memory

But whose reality I am loathe to declare.

One of the first things I learned how to say when I moved to China was 买单 (mÇŽidān), the word for “the bill” or “pay the bill” when you’re at a restaurant. I can remember sitting outside in a Beijing hutong in the summer of 2007, still struggling with the tonality of the Chinese language and barking “màidàn” to a horrified server. Over two years later, of all things in Chinese, I thought that this was one of the key phrases that I had mastered, intoning it and thinking it just like a Chinese person would, thinking “buy” (ä¹°, mÇŽi) and “list” (单, dān) to myself when I asked for the bill. To my surprise, there is still another twist.

I recently came across the word 埋单 (máidān), literally “bury the list”, which means the same thing as 买单 (mÇŽidān). The sound of these two phrases are so close that it is difficult to distinguish which one is being said unless you listen very closely and the person saying them is speaking clearly.  Yet there seems to be a world of difference in meaning if you consider what is being said.

What a strange idea! Paying at a restaurant as burying the proof of what is owed, laying to rest the obligation, ostensibly forever. Paying the bill appears to be a ritual associated with the kind of reverence one owes towards the dead, and true to the analogy, the Chinese are particular about paying the bill. Typically, one person treats everyone else, regardless of the occasion. The idea of everyone taking out money and laying it on the table while the bill is divided up is considered unsightly and barbaric. I’ve witnessed a number of waiters cringe as they watch a group of foreigners figure out the money after a banquet.

Perhaps this kind of solemnity explains the fact that 埋单 has a more expanded usage, meaning to take responsibility for something. Nciku gives the following example:

这件事情搞砸了，都由你自己来埋单。

If the whole thing is bungled, you will be responsible.

Responsible indeed.

I’ve started asking to “bury the list” when I check out of restaurants now. No one seems to notice the difference.

I recently learned the word for “swing” (i.e. the one you find in a playground) in modern, simplified Chinese:

秋千, qiūqiān

The word baffled me since 秋 (qiÅ«) means “fall” or “autumn”, and 千 (qiān) means “one thousand”. I thought: What the hell kind of etymology does that entail? Do Chinese people look at swings this poetically? Like sitting on a swing is like becoming a lone leaf capable of experiencing the exhilaration of a thousand falls in autumn? For anyone out there who might have mistakenly tattooed this on his or her body for this or some other very romantic reason, I’m sorry to disappoint you. It just looks like the usual mischief we find in the difference between simplified Chinese and traditional Chinese.

The traditional characters for “swing” look like this:

鞦韆 (still pronounced, qiūqiān)

Notice the conspicuous use of radical 革 (gé) for leather in each character, as the 遷 (simplified: 迁, qiān, “move”) in the second character. Now the characters relate more clearly to what a swing actually is: a moving piece of cloth, leather hung from a tree or high pole.

You can get the whole story in all of it’s geeked out detail (including images from ancient seals and oracle bones!) at Chinese Etymology.

[FERRET and LEAF are getting street kabobs on Shanghai’s immortal and immoral Hengshan Lu. Unfortunately, someone from the bar across the street has ordered enough kabob’s for the entire bar. So FERRET and LEAF have to wait in the cold. LEAF talks to herself to stay warm:]

LEAF

怎么那么冷啊！他们为什么点了那么多菜啊！

How is it so cold?　Why did they order so much food?

[A MAN walks by and asks the KABOB WOMAN:]

MAN

最近的自动取款机在哪理？

Where is the nearest ATM?

KABOB WOMAN

对面有一个！

There’s one across the street.

MAN

那个取款机关住了。还有呢？

That one is closed. Is there another?

LEAF

[interjecting]

前面在永嘉路有一个银行，可是我不知道有没有24个小时的取款机。前面在衡山路的右边有一个中国银行。你肯定在用那个取款机。

There is another up ahead on Yongjia Lu, but I don’t know if it has a 24 hour ATM. Up ahead on Hengshan Lu on the right there is a Bank of China. You can definitely use that ATM.

MAN

好的。谢谢！

Okay. Thanks.

[The MAN walks off. FERRET teases LEAF:]

FERRET

[in somewhat broken Chinese]

你是导游。

You are a tour guide.

KABOB WOMAN

你的中文说得很好。

You speak Chinese very well.

FERRET

谢谢。

Thanks.

[The KABOB WOMAN pulls closer to LEAF and speaks under her breath, not wanting FERRET to hear.]

KABOB WOMAN

他说的是什么意思？

What was he saying?

LEAF

他说了我是个导游。他给我开玩笑。

He said I’m a tour guide. He was telling a joke.