世界末日－The Day I Learned to Write "The End of the World" in Chinese

I have worked in a Chinese restaurant for more than one year, and yet do not speak Chinese. I think this is kind of disappointing on my part. I have made too little effort to get to know the kitchen staff. I am not personally responsible for them at all, but it bothers me to know that because they don't speak much English, it is easy to forget them, to not think of them (and how much more true is this of multi-ethnic societies?) This is something I can't ignore. Since the beginning of college when I worked in another restaurant that employed immigrants, it's important that I try to talk to people who speak English as a foreign language - no matter how basic. Still, it hasn't been enough of a priority for me to learn their own languages. But I try to reflect on the lives of these people, and that's one drive to keep writing.

The cook I communicate with most is Bin, who's English is probably at a low beginner level, from what I can say as an ESL tutor. It's because Bin himself tries to communicate with me that our friendship grows word by word.

A few days ago Bin communicated to me online that he wanted to get a State ID. I went through the state website and tried to communicate what he needed to collect (a finished application, passport, Social Security Number, and 2 proofs of residence). I filled out the application for him, and I asked the bilingual restaurant manager to interpret what's meant by two proofs of residence. The next day we went to the DMV, but we were soon thwarted when the old man in the red sweater at the counter told us that Bin had not brought proof of his immigration status. It hadn't occurred to me to bring that, though it should have been obvious. I couldn't even interpret for Bin. The old man laughed at us. I called the manager, who explained quickly over the phone to him and to me that the paperwork we needed wasn't yet available. The old man gave us an index of requirements for immigrant applicants, chortling, "I'm not an expert on these [immigration] matters.." Thinking suddenly of my friend's deportation, I said, "I'm learning."

"Well, now what are we going to do?" I asked. Bin shrugged, "I don't know. I follow you." This was his 休息- day off. I had four hours before work. We began wandering through Downtown. We first went to a library and played with a Chinese phrase book, which I really should have checked out. Then we spent the most time visiting two culture shops. I could spend all day in such places with Japanese, Chinese, and Indian art decor, icons, and collectibles - tapestries of Chinese art, Japanese fans, paintings of Hindu gods, several tiny statues of Buddha... Bin tried to explain Chinese characters wherever we saw them in the artworks. We then made a brief visit to the Downtown square before it started to rain. By then it was late in the afternoon anyway, and we sat in a restaurant, and we began a true session of language exchange.

With a notebook, pen, and an online Chinese-English dictionary, we tried to talk and teach. We started with the broken English chatter, our own limited lingua franca. Then we started teaching each other random English and Chinese words, and the notebook became littered with vocabulary and phrases. "Always (总是)", "never" (从来没有), "every day" (每天), "soon" (不久), and "F$@# you!" (I have to double check, I *cough* can't make out the handwriting in my notes) .

I wanted to teach English at that moment, but I felt that I couldn't try to teach Bin English unless he expressly solicited it. And yet I also wanted to know some Chinese, and it feels somewhat imperative that I at least know a little bit about someone else's language before I impose my own. In any case, if he would trust me as a teacher, I would make myself his own student. However insecure he might feel about English, I can't allow that insecurity. I can also show him that I know even less about Chinese.

I asked Bin to teach me the four tones, this most basic concept in the Chinese language. Bin drew: ˉ ´ˇ`

Ok, so: mā, má, mă, mà  (ma1, ma2, ma3, ma4) - high level, rising, rising falling, falling

Can you please read the second one again? The fourth? What word uses the second tone? Máfan -麻烦 - trouble. We repeated the Chinese word and the English word several times each, and then example sentences.

Taking inspiration from the lunch we were eating, I asked Bin to translate, "I like onions" and "I don't like mushrooms" (These sentences are true for me, but opposite for him). From there, how do I say that I like or dislike something?

我喜欢..... Wŏ xǐhuan ....
我不喜欢... Wŏ bu xǐhuan ....

Just these basic sentences would take practice.. 

After nodding to the rain outside, Bin pointed to my backpack and asked, "You no umbrella?"

From that sentence the ESL tutor in me pounced:
"You no umbrella  --> "You don't have an umbrella?"

I / you / we / they - have               I / you / we / they  - don't have
he/ she / it            - has                 he/ she / it             - doesn't have

Bin and I made example sentences with friends as subjects for he/she, and common, recognizable objects like iPhones, cars, cats, and siblings.

After studying a moment, Bin asked "Any name - Annie, Laura,... doesn't have?" "Exactly!"

Bin pointed to "a" and "an" and asked "Why?"

an +  a____                          a  + b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, ......
         e___      (vowels)
         i ___
         o ___
         u ___

Then I drew a sentence making quiz. To my delight and relief, Bin complied:

As an aspiring English as a Foreign Language Teacher, I was thrilled to try to teach. I am always learning to perform on this amateur level, and I am always realizing how I could have done better, and what mistakes I made ( A+ probably didn't translate - I could have simply drawn a ^_^ ).

More importantly, as Bin and I try to communicate on basic levels, it's an interesting journey to see what we can and can't share. Without fluency in each other's language, we can't really share our pasts or our future hopes. We can't really argue either. But It also makes me wonder how people of different languages first began to interact. Bin and I were mostly locked in our own thoughts in our own languages as we walked together through the city streets. We communicate somewhat less than children, but certainly more than animals. I realize that friendship is based on trust, and trust is not based on communication, it's based on the attempts to communicate. It grows with each attempt.

You might notice at the top of the paper is where Bin taught me to write "the end of the world". Funny - because he forgot one stroke in a character, the first translation he showed me on his phone read "World Wood Day" (世界木日). But on December 22, the end of the mysterious Mayan calender, we laughed at the thought of the day's predicted apocalypse. Our own worlds were expanding. We were newly exploring.



Also, a belated

               Merry Christmas - 圣诞快乐 Shèngdàn kuàilè! 



Online Chinese resources: 

http://www.chineseonthego.com

http://mandarin.about.com/

http://www.standardmandarin.com/

Disney's Mulan: Reflection, after 14 years

June 18 marks the 14th anniversary of the release date of Disney's Mulan - and this was actually my favorite classic Disney movie. Although Mulan has been criticized for being an inauthentic depiction of Chinese culture and even of feminism, she did make a popular address to these subjects, albeit for the intended American audience. It's a good story, and it combines (or clashes) values of American and Chinese culture. You could argue that the story is a little mixed-up, or you could argue that the mix of Eastern and Western values makes an interesting interplay as produced by a country that shares American and Asian heritage. (This is even representative in the fact that Mulan also had an impressive cast of Asian-American actors, including Pat Morita, George Takei, B.D. Wong, Ming-Na Wen, and others.)

And so I admit that I'm biased in favor of Mulan, even after 14 years, and with a little more awareness of its criticisms. Still, I can't change the fact that I was touched by the sympathetic story about a girl desperate to prove herself, and that I was inspired by the animation and, yes, the Chinese setting. Nevertheless, it is important to recognize that, as someone put it, Mulan is "an American story in a Chinese context".

American Humor:

If nothing else, you can tell it's an American movie just by the humor. Eddie Murphy does a wonderful job as Mushu - he's very funny - but he's very funny in an African American way, with jokes that Americans would get. Mushu is about as Chinese as Aladdin's Genie is Arab - which is to say not at all. I'm sure his jokes were probably difficult for translators and for foreign audiences, especially Chinese ones. But Mushu wasn't really intended to be a Chinese character other than in the simple fact that he's a little dragon.

Although humor is universal in a few ways, it's actually often very cultural specific, especially if it relies on cultural stereotypes and pop cultural references. And in Mulan there are quite a few "inside jokes" for Americans. When the Emperor's assistant Chi Fu asks for "order" one character shouts "Moo Goo Gai Pan!", a Chinese-American restaurant dish (Incidentally, a Chinese restaurant owner informed me that Moo Goo Gai Pan is the only common dish that translates literally - "Mushrooms and Chicken Slices"). In the movie there are only a few subtle jokes for Chinese speakers - the names of certain characters are puns. Chi Fu apparently means "to bully."

And, for instance, how many non-Americans would catch this reference? Perhaps not even all Americans. But the subtle twist is part of what makes it funny and enjoyable.

Chinese Reception:

Mulan did not perform that well in China at all, and for several reasons. First of all, the Chinese government  deliberately discouraged it from being popularly received, preferring not to market so many foreign movies, among other diplomatic reasons (many people watched pirated versions anyway). In China, Mulan was released in February, after the Chinese New Year, after their holiday movie season. Second of all, even besides the humor, Mulan frankly doesn't translate very well as a Chinese story. Mulan had been criticized by Chinese critics as "too individualistic" (Langfitt).

What Americans might call the value of personal achievement, self-actualization, Chinese might see as "self-aggrandizing". Chinese also value cultivating one's self through discipline, hard work, and ingenuity, but also in keeping with modesty. Mulan admits to proving herself more than helping her family. Inasmuch as Mulan claims to be working for her family, to serve China through the military, she really does things in a kind of Western individualist spirit. She's trying to "fit in" with the other soldiers, but she goes about it in her own way, whether surpassing them or bypassing them.

And, only in a Western movie is it heartwarming to see a great crowd bowing before you for your humble service.

I suspect this looks weird to an Eastern audience..

Chinese Values:

I was impressed, however, with the Eastern notes of filial piety, family honor, and self-discipline. Mulan's family lives with the maternal grandmother, as is traditional and somewhat typical even today for Chinese families in the United States. Furthermore, Mulan is acting for the sake of her family in a more Eastern way, and I think there is a lesson in that for a Western audience. She considers her military service to be for the sake of her father, and that her military achievements are a credit to her family.

As for Mulan's father praying to the ancestors, and their ghostly roles in the movie, I'm not sure prayer is done so literally (ancestors are not "worshipped", but rather honored), but ancestor veneration is also a Chinese value, and one's ancestors may have an influence on your own course of life. In China and Japan it really is not uncommon to have a family shrine dedicated to one's ancestors.

It is true that in Eastern culture, your honor and your shame are reflected upon one's group, whether it's your family, your co-workers, or whoever is considered your team. In Western culture, pride and shame weighs mostly on the individual. As a simple example, in individualist Western thinking, someone losing a contest makes the loser look bad. In collectivist Eastern thinking, someone losing a contest makes his coach look bad. Of course, a Western loser will also feel guilty about his coach and an Eastern loser will also feel bad about himself, but there is a distinctly Eastern sense of collective responsibility. "Losing face" is an expression that arrived in English from a direct translation of Chinese (and Japanese). And, in these cultures, your failure causes your family/supervisor/co-worker/colleague to also lose face.

Sentimental Values: 

Personally, I was struck by the story of a girl trying to prove herself, and to find identity, even if she goes about it in her own way. I do appreciate the feminist themes (which seem to be more closely tied to the feminist movements of the United States - I get the impression that the Chinese legend wasn't intended so much to make a case for female empowerment, but I could be mistaken.), but to me the story is more about wrestling with one's own identity. Mulan doesn't explicitly challenge the patriarchal system because it wasn't her intention. In the beginning of the movie she is trying to present herself as the feminine ideal, and at the end of the movie she forsakes political power and opts to quietly go home. I think Mulan is an empowering female character because she works to prove her ability regardless of how many times she is suppressed. But more importantly, to me Mulan represents the struggle to find our own identity. And now I think that Mulan is also an attempt to reconcile Western and Eastern identities.

In college, when I was studying Japanese, and later failing Japanese, I again thought of Mulan, trying to perform as something beautiful when I was really just pretending. I learned that trying to relate to another culture sometimes makes one feel very self-conscious, and involves its own questions with identity.

Even though Mulan has its contradictions between Chinese and American values, I think it speaks to what Americans do know and do not know of Chinese culture. For Mulan, it seems the makers genuinely wanted to respect Chinese ideals of filial piety, ancestor veneration, honor and shame, and to give credit to Chinese art. Even so, it was a product of Western perspectives. Americans still sometimes present Chinese culture in odd ways, but I think the story of Mulan has its own integrity, and it was made with good intentions. Perhaps Mulan doesn't reach out to China very well, but the film continues to offer introspection into the presence and awareness of China in America.




By the way, the sequel, unfortunately, was made for a much younger and smaller audience, and had much less to do with China.

Sources:

Bancroft, Tony, dir. Mulan. Dir. Barry Cook, Writ. Rita Hsiao, Robert D. San Souci., Perf. Ming-Na Wen, B.D. Wong, Pat Morita, George Takei, and Eddie Murphy. Buena Vista, 1998. Film.

Langfitt, Frank. "Disney Magic 'Fails' Mulan in China." Baltimore Sun [Baltimore] 03/05/1999, n. pag. Web. 16 Jun. 2012.

Morgan, Diane. The Best Guide to Eastern Philosophy and Religion. 1st. New York: Renaissance Books, 2001. Print.

Price, Kathie. "Disney's "Mulan" - A China Parent's Viewpoint." FWCC. Families with Children from China, 06/25/98. Web. 16 Jun 2012.

Gengcheng, Zhao. "Mulan: Powerful and Powerless." US-China Education Trust. n. page. Web. 16 Jun. 2012.

..and Wikipedia.

A Glimpse of Life in a Chinese Restaurant

The following is an excerpt from a larger essay.
Lin's Asian Fusion features an incredible menu with high quality Chinese-American, Thai, and some Japanese cuisine (up next for business consideration is to have a sushi bar). The business is owned by Hiu and Annie Lam (pronounced “Lahm”), both originally from the southeastern Fujian province of China. Noting my confusion at the name discrepancy, Hiu leaned against the wall with his hands folded behind the backwards yellow Steelers baseball cap on his head and began to explain, looking faraway through his glasses.

His last name (林) is commonly read as “Lin” (three other Chinese workers at the time could also be recognized as “Mr. Lin”). But Hiu was born as a third child after the Chinese Communist revolution. Hiu couldn’t be officially recognized as “Lin” because he wasn’t officially allowed to be born. After his family moved to Hong Kong the name was read in Cantonese as “Lam.” And so by establishing his own restaurant, he concluded, “I won back my name.” Hiu had moved to the United States when he was 11 years old and has worked in Chinese restaurants his entire life. He met his wife through an arranged marriage that has since resulted in a happy family with two daughters – and they share boarding with the cooks.

Hiu’s wife is known to the waitresses as Annie. Sai Hua is her Chinese name, but Hiu most often calls her “Annie-ah”, just as her two daughters call her “Mommy-ah”). She is tall and rail thin, similarly bespectacled, with a long ponytail and bangs, and looks half her age. She laughs about her own broken English, but sometimes wishes that it were better even after all her years of study. But whichever language, Annie rarely shuts up, and is almost constantly attached to her iPhone, laughing, rambling, or muttering quietly in Chinese. And for the waitresses she is full of enthusiasm and encouraging advice. “You look tired,” she remarked to a waitress, then cried, “You need energy. I will fill you with the Kung Fu Power!” completing it with arms outstretched and hands cupped in an action pose. When she learns a new English word in conversation, she looks it up on her iPhone, having double-checked the spelling with an American waitress. “P-S-Y-C-H-I-C” I spelled once, because I had teased her about her prediction of a delivery order. “I like that word!” she exclaimed, and dashed off to the cooks to teach them. “Psychic! Psychic!” they chorused. Hiu walked out a few minutes later, shaking his head, commenting dryly, “It sounds like they’re saying ‘Suck it'.

Annie first came to Canada with her family when she was in high school, with just the human resources tutor and no Chinese classmates to help her learn English. But at her graduation she gave a speech that inspired her audience to tears, and she still keeps in touch with that tutor, who even attended her wedding. Annie married Hiu after high school and continued in restaurant business because she felt that English would be too difficult for her at a college level. Remembering her first English classes in the United States she mused, “Annie always try to be per-fect.” I asked her if it was because she liked languages. “No,” she laughed. “I knew that I wanted a better life here than my mother. She didn’t know any English.” In Canada Annie had lived with her aunt and uncle, apart from her parents who were working days and nights in a restaurant. It’s a job many Chinese immigrants make take up not because it was their first ambition, but because it was the only opportunity.

Men at a ticket booth for the Chinatown bus line 

  
According to the work of American born Chinese (ABC) journalist Jennifer 8. Lee, in 2007 there were 40,000 Chinese restaurants in the United States, and this was more than the combined total of McDonald’s, Burger Kings, and KFCs (Lee, 9).  It almost goes without saying that American Chinese takeout is almost completely unrecognizable to native Chinese. General Tso is a famous war hero who never conceived the fried chicken dish, and the concept of fortune cookies actually originated from Japan (“Jennifer 8. Lee Hunts for General Tso”). But many of the workers still come straight from China, and most of them, including those from Lin’s Asian Fusion, find their jobs through the Chinatown in New York City. These workers may continue to travel and commute through Chinatown bus services, which run in major cities in both the eastern and western United States (the men at Lin’s have recently switched to using Megabus for the sake of cost). Cooks, dishwashers, and delivery drivers may work in several restaurants throughout their life, perhaps over 12 hours each day, 6-7 days a week (Lin’s Asian Fusion only closes on Thanksgiving Day). They are isolated from most of society except for co-workers and family, which might be scattered between China and different cities in the United States. Finally, some might hope for a better future for their children who will grow up speaking a language they never had time to learn ("Chinese Restaurant Workers in U.S. Face Hurdles"). “I tell [my daughter] Michelle, I don’t work for me. I work for you.” said Annie. 

Sources:


"Chinatown Bus" Chinatown-Bus.org. Chinatown-Bus.org, 2012. Web. 19 Apr 2012. <http://www.chinatown-bus.org/>.

Inskeep, Steve, host. "Chinese Restaurant Workers in U.S. Face Hurdles." Writ. Margot Alder, and Ken Guest. Morning Edition. National Public Radio: 08/05/2007. Radio.
<http://www.npr.org/templates/transcript/transcript.php?storyId=10069448>.

Lee, Jennifer, writ. Jennifer 8. Lee Hunts for General Tso. TED Conferences, LLC, 2008. Web. 19 Apr 2012. < http://www.ted.com/talks/jennifer_8_lee_looks_for_general_tso.html >.