Some Chinglish Explained Posted on May 4th, 2009
My Chinese pen pal has now read the book and enlightened me about some of the Chinglish.
“I was amazed by the English translation for the menu which you cited on p.93. “The temple protects the chicken cube” is a word-by-word translation of 宫保鸡丁 or 宫爆鸡丁, both sharing almost the same pronunciation “gōng bǎo jī dīng” in Mandarin. A better translation for this dish is Gong Bao Chicken/Kung Pao Chicken.
This is a traditional Sichuan dish made with diced chicken, peanuts and chili pepper. It was named after a court official, Ding Baozhen, in the late Qing dynasty (1616-1911).
According to legend Mr. Ding, a gourmet, liked to try “stir-fried diced chicken” in his diet. While serving as governor in Shandong and Sichuan provinces, he often treated his guests to this dish. While in Sichuan, where hot chilies are regarded as a must for the local people, Ding improved this dish by adding chili pepper to the ingredients. As a result, the dish with its spicy flavour and good tastes became a delicacy. Later, when Ding was promoted to be a “protector of the crown prince” by the imperial court, he was referred to as Kung Pao, which was short for Taizi Shaobao, a title of a certain rank at that time. To commemorate Mr. Ding Baozhen, people named his favorite dish Kung Pao Chicken.”
He has also told me the Chinese dish 宫爆鸡丁 (gong bao ji ding) has another misleading menu translation i.e. “Government abuse chicken”. How many people would order it from the menu with that name, I wonder?!
Mosaic Footpaths Posted on November 4th, 2008
Although they look like it, these paths were not designed by some grand person sitting at a drawing board, but by the artisans themselves. Using pebbles to pave paths with patterns is far from simple and needs a lot of skill and experience. Various layers are laid down with the final one of natural-coloured pebbles used to depict what are seen as traditional objects in Chinese art, e.g. scenes, birds, fish, and legends.
The best of these patterned paths are found in the gardens of the Forbidden City and have such names as “Cranes in Clouds” and “Magpie announcing the Spring”. Maybe the one I took a photo of there, could be called “Flowers in Repose”.
Zoomorphic Roof Decorations Posted on November 4th, 2008
Grand Chinese buildings such as temples, palaces, and mansions often have animal-like carvings, called wenshou, along the roof ridges. The largest one at the end of a ridge looks very ferocious and as though it is about to eat the rest of the animals displayed in front of it. According to Chinese mythology, this tunjishou was one of the sons of the Dragon King who rules over the oceans. He is able to agitate the sea and change the resulting waves into rain. Hence this carving like a fish tail was used for its magical powers to bring forth a deluge in the event of a fire. However, there was also the fear that he might devour the whole ridge, so he was fixed to it by a sword.
The procession of smaller animals that accompany the tunjishou, show the status of the owner by their number and size. The largest number of zoomorphic decorations on one ridge is in the Forbidden City, on the Hall of Supreme Harmony, having ten such animals. This number reduces as the importance of the building diminishes. The personal photo in my blog shows five; apparently I took it as I was standing beside a building that would have housed one grade of concubine. Which grade, I’m not sure.
Quadrangles Posted on November 4th, 2008
A siheyuan – “a courtyard enclosed on four sides” – has traditionally been the form of abode for the Chinese. These quadrangles are surrounded by houses facing towards the centre on all four sides, the smaller ones having only one entrance at the southeastern corner. Space and privacy are attained as well as security and protection from storms and dust.
They were built according to firm rules, and the size and style showed the residents’ station in life. There would be only one courtyard for the ordinary folk of the town or village, while the rich had two or more. The parents would live in the main building that got the most sun, and their children would be relegated to the side rooms. Reception rooms, the study and the servants’ quarters would usually be near the entrance gate.
As the siheyuan was a common feature of traditional architecture, it was not only homes that took this form, but also temples, monastries, palaces, and government buildings.
Surnames Posted on October 8th, 2008
There are several possible origins of my father’s surname, Fisher, although I have always assumed that it started as a job description along with such prime examples as Archer, Carpenter, Smith, and Weaver. However, it could also be derived from some form of ancient English denoting someone who lived near fish, which could be the reason that I have landed up living next to a lake.
One famous Fisher called George, who was born near the end of the 18th century, accompanied some expeditions to the Arctic about eighteen years into the next century, as their chaplain and astronomer. By the age of forty he was theorising about why and how the aurora borealis – the northern lights – existed and performed. Maybe he also had a connection with Finland where these colourful displays are seen, unfortunately not by me – yet.
I can thank Henry VIII for my maiden name, otherwise I might have had my mother’s surname which was Thompson, meaning son of Thomas, which means a twin. My father, who was a twin, married a Thompson, which is rather neat! Thompsons can be found in most parts of Britain, but there are many in northern England where my mother came from. Unfortunately, because of Henry’s law, there are none from my grandfather’s lineage as he only had four daughters. My mother’s maiden name has also been used for one species of gazelle (sometimes without the ‘p’), an island, a language, an observatory, a river, and even two rock bands.
But back to Fisher; I’ve found all kinds of famous ones – archbishops, economists, philanthropists, and statesmen. At the time of Henry VIII – why does he keep popping up? – a bishop, John Fisher, was beheaded on Tower Hill in 1535. It took 400 years for him to be made a saint.
If the initial capital letter is exchanged for a small one, there is also a large marten, which is found in parts of North America. That must be the reason I had never heard of fishers before today. The males weigh more than their partners, and both have dark brown to black fur, and as the animals age it may look as though they’ve been dipped in icing sugar around their heads and shoulders. As a rule they don’t catch fish, so I don’t feel such a fraud about my birth name. The only time I went fishing was in a small rowing boat with my new fiancé – his idea of a date. The rain, mosquitoes, and enforced silence were enough to last me a lifetime. His surname, Lehtomäki, which is also now mine, literally means Grove Hill, which is kind of pleasant and gives a feeling of being close to nature, which isn’t difficult in his country of Finland.
Lakes Posted on September 21st, 2008
Finland, the country in which I currently reside, is often referred to as the ‘Land of a Thousand Lakes’, although it has approximately 188,000 of them (larger than 500 m²), which cover about ten per cent of the country. None of them lie much above sea level, the two biggest, Saimaa – the fifth largest in Europe – and Päijänne, less than 80 metres. Finland has a plenteous supply of water, and tap water is drinkable, even though some people use water from public springs, which continue to flow all winter, for their drinking water.
I am very blessed to have lived by one of those lakes in Central Finland for the past eleven years, and have learned to appreciate the constant effect of the changing seasons on its waters. As the ice begins to thaw in spring, the swans arrive. They don’t usually stay on our lake, but we don’t have far to walk to find some nesting. The water can be as calm and smooth as silk, or choppy and wave-laden in a storm, bringing reminders of the sea. The early-morning summer sun ripples on its surface, and makes dancing shadows on our living room ceiling – if I’m in there at the right time to see it. Darkness never arrives, and the shimmering water can be seen all night. Autumn finds the water darkening and appearing deeper in the shortening days and lengthening nights, and the swans return ready for their flights south. By early winter the lake begins to freeze, to be covered in snow for most of the next four to five months, brightening the darkness which envelops the world for most of each day. The frozen surface provides a shorter walk to homes on the other side of the lake, plus skiing, skating and ice-fishing. I said ‘provides’, but not necessarily for me!
Rainbows Posted on September 20th, 2008
My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky!William Wordsworth (1770–1850)
How often have you seen a rainbow? Not as frequently as you may think, because they are usually only seen in the summer when bright sunlight and rain showers perform together, giving us humans a light show. The most dramatic rainbow displays occur when part of the sky is still dark with rain clouds, and a clear sky is above the standing, sitting, or reclining spectator. Rainbows are always opposite the sun and their centres are below the horizon.
How are they produced? The scientific answer is that rainbows are formed by light refracting and then reflecting off raindrops. But in my words, raindrops create them by splitting the white rays of the sun into their constituent colours, each of which is curved a different amount while dancing through the drops. Conventionally, the colours we see are named as red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, although in reality a rainbow spans a continuous spectrum of colours, and clarity.
Where are they? In the sky?! Well, yes, but the rainbow I see is not the one that you will see, even if you are standing beside me, because we will observe different colours from the same drop of rain. Every rainbow is unique – its position, its colours, and its brightness –and is a visual trick, a scattering of multi-coloured magic dust.
What do they make you feel? Whenever I see a rainbow my heart skips a beat and I feel so grateful to be alive. I have no thought about how and why it’s there; I don’t need to understand the physics of its existence; I only experience a feeling of awe. The shape is comforting, the colours captivating in the overcast sky, and an ordinary day becomes special. Like a dream, sleeping or waking, a rainbow is far away, elusive and untouchable, something to be enjoyed and stored in the memory.
Remember: There will never be a rainbow in your life unless there is joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, laughter and tears. That is what life is – a mixture of emotions so that we can know the positive by tasting its opposite. And if we want to see more of the rainbow, the sun needs to be lower in the sky, and further behind us. Maybe we miss the rainbows in life because we expect too much of the sun, and don’t invite enough rain to join the performance. Do we also expect everyone else to conform to our view of the rainbow, as though they are standing in our shoes? What I see as indigo, may be red in your rainbow. Just as every rainbow is unique, a one-off, so is each life. Let’s allow each other the freedom to be who we are, and rejoice in that uniqueness.
Finland Posted on September 20th, 2008
Before I met my husband in the late 1980s I knew nothing about Finland, or at least it hadn’t been mentioned in any geography lessons that I had attended, and so the word had no associations in my mind. I couldn’t have told you that it was a country nestling between Russia and Sweden, nor that what wasn’t covered in tall, narrow, wood-producing vegetation, was soaking wet, nor that it had endless winters and never-ending summer days. Believing that Santa Claus lived at the North Pole, I also didn’t know that his real home was in Finnish Lapland.
Finland is a beautiful, unspoilt place in which to live, especially if you like peace and quiet. Even Helsinki, the world’s northernmost capital city, with its cars and bustle, is small, and nature is only ever a short ride away. Norway, clinging to Sweden’s western border, got the high land though and left nothing for Finland, apart from some mini-mountains in the far north, the highest being Mount Halti signing in at a paltry 1,328m. To put that in perspective, when Mount Everest is covered in snow and ice as Halti probably is for a large percentage of the year, its official height is 8,848m.
According to some statistics that I found, which I will have to trust as I have no intention of trying to count them myself to verify, there are 187,888 lakes and 179,584 islands in this angel-shaped territory that I now call home. I think whoever totted up those numbers deserves a medal, for preciseness, if not for anything else.
About one-third of Finnish land lies above the Artic Circle – a place in which I know I would never survive, with its twenty-four hours of dark in the winter transforming itself into the complete opposite by midsummer. What a contrast! I have now got used to the changes there are in Central Finland, which is still only about a quarter of the way up the country from the south coast. As I am writing this in July, the dark never arrives, but when it does, it stays. By Christmas I will need the lights on most of the day, unless it’s sunny, and then they can be turned off between about ten and three. And when that sun shines it’s magnificent. The snow sparkles, and if it’s cold enough for the snow flakes to have stuck to the trees, the outside world looks like a Christmas card. I’ve read that the climate here is relatively mild because of the North Atlantic Current, but having tasted minus 30 degrees Celsius, I think I’ll disagree.
Eighty percent of the country is covered in trees and lakes, and there are many national parks, which are well-maintained. Finland is a desirable destination for outdoor fanatics, especially the inhabitants themselves, who flock from their technically-advanced lives in the cities and towns, to their cottages and cabins on the shores of those numerous lakes, to enjoy the outdoor life, including fishing, swimming and sauna, berry and mushroom collecting – and grilling. Some cottages are still basic, without electricity and running water, but others are more elaborate and modern than my home!