Written Chinese (full)

Yesterday during my Chinese Language class an interesting topic came up: why do the Chinese people keep using their traditional writing system. Currently, as I'm sure almost all of you know, the Chinese use a system based on writing picture symbols (although the picture element has become extremely abstract) where each Chinese Character (called HanZi in Chinese) represents both an idea and a sound. Unlike English, Greek, Arabic or any of the other phonetic writing systems used by most of the world where each symbol represents a sound, HanZi have no inherent sound beside the one that people memorize to go with it. If you study English alphabet and pronunciation for a week, you can read almost anything ever written in English, your pronunciation might be off and you won't understand what you're reading, but you will be able to read it because it's just codified pieces of sound. If you know the code, you can read it, it's that simple, and on top of that it ties the written language and the spoken language deeply together.

In Chinese, this connection is made more difficult because with HanZi, you either know them or you don't, and if you don't you have almost no hope of pronouncing them. (There are a few tricks that can allow a native speaker to guess, but it's nothing certain.) This makes learning to write Chinese infinitely more difficult than learning to write English, and creates a situation where people who study Chinese for years still cannot read a book if they haven't been also memorizing the HanZi as they go.

And, there are over 50,000 HanZi! Of them roughly 10,000 being in common use, and roughly 3000 being essential to handling a general language text like a newspaper. This means that while growing up Chinese children are spending huge amounts of academic time just memorizing HanZi through rote memorization. And that's just the individual HanZi, they're usually used in combinations of 2 to 4 characters which can change the meaning completely so they also have to be memorized. Quite the feat, actually, maybe they really are smarter than us!

So, we come to my classmate's question: "Isn't that a huge waste of time? Wouldn't the children and society be better served by using a phonetic writing system like English and spending that memorization time on arts, history, music, physical education, science or any number of other subjects or activities?"

The Japanese, Koreans and even the Taiwanese realized this to a degree, all of them developing phonetic writing systems to use alongside the HanZi in varying degrees. The Taiwanese just use their phonetic system as a stepping stone for children to learn first before they learn HanZi, the Japanese use a hybrid of HanZi mixed with phonetics and the Koreans do the same as the Japanese but use the least number of HanZi of all three in their writing system. Both the Japanese and Koreans are actively trying to remove the HanZi from their writing systems, but finding it difficult for the same reason the Chinese are reluctant to remove them: homonyms.

For those who slept through grammar (I know I did, and now I teach it! O_o! Ironic!) a homonym is a word that is pronounced the same as another word so they share the same sound but have different meanings. Well, these asian languages are filled with Homonyms, especially Chinese which has an almost horrific number of them. In speaking, they tell them apart by pronunciation tone and context, but in writing the only way they could come up with to tell them apart was to create separate characters to represent them.

Now, I do have to admit, HanZi are pretty useful once you get used to them, and in fact during Chinese class there are often times when I wish I was looking at the HanZi so I knew which Chinese word written in PinYin the teacher just written on the board. While PinYin does use Tone Markers to distinguish between words with the same basic sound, I find it's often not enough to be sure which word you are looking at since often several homonyms can also be pronounced with the same tone.

Also, HanZi, as some have pointed out, are the spirit and culture of the Chinese people. Those symbols represent a way of thinking different from western thought (so different they use the other side of the human brain when decoding them) and contain deep meanings that often go beyond simple sound. When a Chinese person reads a poem they are not just reading the sound, but looking at a piece of artwork as the HanZi are also carefully chosen to elicit certain ideas or feelings on a level beyond simple phonetic communication. Of course, through word choice an English poet can do the same thing to a degree, how big a degree I don't know because I'm not bilingual enough to compare the two. Nor am I likely to be for a long time, thanks to the degree of difficulty in learning the HanZi system.

Newsweek and Time have both recently had cover stories questioning Does the Future Belong to China? and as someone who is sitting on China's doorstep I have often asked myself the same question. Having a neighborly view into China's windows I have been watching the giant carefully as it moves and deals with an exploding economy and world class status in it's higher levels of society. I often ponder China's future in the world, and consider where it will go from here and if it can overcome the numerous obstacles it faces.

One of those obstacles I can clearly see hindering them is their language, specifically the writing system I am talking about in this journal. As someone who has studied both Mandarin Chinese and Japanese (both touted at times to be the "language of the future") I can't help but notice how few people (foreigners) actually manage to stick with and learn these languages to any real degree of proficiency. Most get as far as "survival" level, and then tend to quickly give up anything more simply because it's just too hard, and one of the major obstacles I've noticed kills most of their enthusiasm is learning to read and write.

If I were to study Spanish, as soon as I began to master the spoken language I could begin putting the written language to work, and the same is true for almost any other phonetic language. This would let me practice and work in that language; improving my skills even if I didn't have a person who spoke the language to practice with. Yes, each phonetic language has it's quirks, and sometimes languages vary in their spoken and written forms, but for the most part phonetic languages are intimately tied with their written forms. And, it's the very discontinuity between spoken and written Mandarin (and Japanese and to a lesser extent Korean) that makes them not only hard to learn but will prevent them from becoming global languages.

When you couple this with the simple point that it's hell to program a computer in Chinese, which means that programmers learn how to program in English, and the languages of business and science are still English, you see why Chinese learn English and not the other way around. I'm not complaining, it means more work for me, but since my classmate brought up the above point I have been thinking about this a lot. Wouldn't the people of China be better served by creating and using a new written language based on phonetics instead of symbols? I'm not saying they should use the English system like PinYin, but even that would be better than being stuck with a language that is both impractical and in the long term limits their ability to compete on a global cultural scale.

And any language which can't compete will eventually die off, no matter how many poor people speak it. Like a corporation, if a language is not expanding, it's dying because another language will be expanding around it.

I know it won't happen, but if Chinese is to be around for another 6000 years, there's going to need to be a few changes made, because they're not isolated anymore and they can't afford to be sentimental if they want their culture and language to survive.

Rob

Roaches and Snakes and Lizards....Oh my!

So, late last evening when I was out for a stroll after returning home from work, something caught my eye. Something reddish brown that moved very quickly through the lighted areas of the Taipei sidewalk, trying to return to it's shadowy home: a cockroach!

Now, in a subtropical city which isn't known for being the cleanest place in the world, seeing a roach, even a large one as the locals are (a good 7-8cm in length) shouldn't even be something to bat an eye about, much less write up on my blog. But, you see this was actually one of the first roaches I've seen since I've been here for the last 4+ months, and the other noteworthy thing was, it wasn't alone.

For the first time since I've been out walking at night, I saw many roaches last night skittering everywhere, it was almost like the horde had been unleashed and was rushing through the city on a quest to eat it's garbage scraps. (That left behind by the hordes of stray dogs and cats that populate this city, not many mice or rats though, because the cats do good work.) I was actually pretty shocked to see them all, and wondered where they were coming from, until I thought about it a while as I walked.

Although last night was fairly dry and calm, it followed a good solid week of rain and a torrential weekend which caused no small amount of flooding outside of the city. So, I reasoned, what was happening was that the roaches had been flooded out of their sewer homes and were forced up into the light with the rest of us.

"Welcome to the party guys, watch out for the scooter drivers, they're nuts!"

An interesting additional note came today during my Chinese Language Class when one of my classmates by the name of Eugene (a pleasant older man with a definite love of travel) related to me that this morning during a walk in the forrest he'd suddenly found himself surrounded by an abundance of wildlife. Making it clear this was not a usual occurance, he said that he'd found the forrest floor to be teeming with lizards and even saw a snake. (Which are quite the rare, if dangerous, thing in these parts.) He also said the birds were more plentiful than usual, and saw a wide variety of beautiful plumage during his walk.

Well, I can't explain the birds (although perhaps they're there to eat the bugs and lizards...) but I related my roach story to him and commented that probably the lizards and snake were also flushed out by the water and forced to seek open ground. It seems the water makes life more interesting for everyone around Taipei.

Rob

Garbage

I have done it! Yes! I have officially become a resident of Taipei!

How, you ask, did Rob accomplish this?

I have...dumped garbage!

Before you laugh, I must relate to you the ordeal which is getting rid of your trash in Taipei. (Then you can laugh...)

Thus far, each weekend when I make a trip to Connie's I have taken my trash (appropriately separated for ecological quality under penalty of death by girlfriend) with me and it's gone out with Connie's family's weekly garbage. But, it was determined recently that I should handle my own trash from now on since Connie got tired of carrying the garbage on the bus. (Appropriately hidden inside innocuous looking shopping bags, of course!)

So, with this in mind, I stored up my garbage for the past two weeks, and tonight once I got home I quickly assembled the bags and set out on a quest for the garbage truck.

For you see, in Taipei, getting your garbage out is something between a community event and a sport. The Garbage truck (and accompanying recycling truck) moves between designated community drop-off points wherein the locals must rendezvous with the truck and get their garbage to the truck before the truck leaves to move on to the next spot. This is not as easy as it sounds, not only is the time the truck will be there limited and somewhat imprecise, each pick-up point serves an area which can be up to several square kilometers in size.

So, tonight when I set off in search of the legendary drop off point, I actually had only a vague idea of where to go coupled with hope that I could make it in time. After 5 minutes of winding my way through my local streets I found signs of the truck; locals carrying the required clear plastic bags with their coupons to pay for said garbage firmly attached. Following the locals I found myself among an ever growing mass of people, those going to the garbage dropoff and those returning stopping to talk to their neighbours.

Eventually, the trucks with their flashing lights came into view around a corner, and I nervously moved with the masses towards the lights. I wondered, did I separate enough? Would I be nailed for having left one or two plastic bags inside my garbage? (I'm a sinner...I confess...) I had even left my recyclables at home, deciding that they would be dealt with on my next trip: basic garbage was a difficult enough task to worry about dealing with leftover cartons of papaya milk!

Finally it was my turn.

I stepped forward. The man at the back of the truck looked at me as I tried not to look at him, praying for no comments or awkward situations. I tossed my trash in with the others, and then quick as I could I slipped away, affording only a glance back to see if anyone had seen my crime. But none had! I was a free man. And, giddy with the thought of what I had just accomplished I strode off past the gathered people; proud that I too was now capable of doing that thing which truly makes one a resident of a city...dumping my own trash!

Rob