Top 5 Gifting Taboos in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, culture, tradition,Tags: , , ,
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Gifting is an essential part of Chinese culture. It comes with many idiosyncrasies that one should be aware of and observe. Some things are strictly “NO” as a gift choice in China, mostly because they sound like something else which is ominous. In this post, I will share a few most prominent gifting taboos in China.

1. Clock: although clocks are not really a top gifting choice to begin with, it’s a categorical ”NO” in China, because the Chinese for clock is 钟/zhōng and to gift a clock is 送钟/sòngzhōng, which sounds the same as 送终/sòngzhōng, meaning to say goodbye to someone who passed away. Although intricately made clocks were a popular Western gift to Chinese emperors during the Qing Dynasty, they are avoided at all cost in contemporary China. Giving clocks is the capital taboo. Giving watches is fine though.

2. Apple: an apple a day might keep doctors away. But in Shanghai, you should never bring apples to a patient because apple in Shanghainese (bíngù) sounds like the Mandarin word 病故/bìnggù which means to die from an illness. The good news is in other parts of China, this rule does not apply.

3. Green hat: this is probably the most well-known Chinese gifting taboo. 戴绿帽子/dàilǜmàozi/to wear a green hat is an expression referring to a man whose wife is cheating on him with another man. It is seen as the ultimate insult to a man.

4. Umbrella: the Chinese for umberlla is 伞/sǎn, which sounds like the word 散/sàn/to separate. But this is a minor offence  on the scale of gifting taboos.

5. Pear:  to stray a little from gifting but staying in the theme of things that sound ominous, Chinese believe that a pear shouldn’t be shared among families and friends because to share a pear is 分梨/fēnlí which sounds the same as 分离/fēnlí/ to separate. It goes against the traditional ideals of social structure in China. However, this is not strictly observed in China nowadays.

There is a surprising curve ball in gifting: miniature “gift coffins” are a symbol of prosperity.  棺材/guāncái/coffin sounds like 官/guān/officialdom、财/cái/wealth. Some government officials with a good sense of humor like being given mini gift coffins. But don’t try it randomly. This is an esoteric gift.

Lastly, should you be wondering what gifts to buy for a Chinese friend, I’d suggest giving things that Chinese are wary of buying in China. For example, health supplements are an excellent choice because the local marketplace is rife with fake products and they work on different ages and genders. A few bottles of DHA and multi-vitamins will make you a very savvy gift shopper.

10 Wonderful Chinese Words without English Equivalent

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, ChinesePod, culture,Tags: , ,
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A recent blog post wonderfully captures the idiosyncrasies of languages. Titled “15 Wonderful Words without English Equivalent”, the author lists phrases in a dozen languages packed with social, philosophical and anthropological back stories whose wonderfulness are lost in English. My instinct to this quirky list is let’s make one for Chinese!  Of course most chengyus and suyus fall beautifully into this category, but I am talking about basic, high frequency words that you struggle to find an English equivalent. Here’s my own list to get the ball rolling. Please add yours in the comments!

1. 客气 (kèqi): often translated as “polite”, this word is a fine specimen of Chinese culture. 客 means “guest”, 气 means “chi” or “an air of”. So 客气 means to act as if you were a guest. It’s often used in the phrase 别客气(bié kèqi/don’t be so guest like). The irony is in most cases, the recipient of the phrase is indeed a guest. However, since Chinese culture prides itself on being hospitable, we want guests to not feel like guests. That’s why Chinese are always trying to get guests to eat more, drink more to the point of pushiness.

2. 辛苦(xīnkǔ):  It means to work  laboriously, be it manual or intellectual. Often used in the phrase 辛苦了(xīnkǔ le), which is an acknowledgement of one’s hard work and contribution.  I feel it’s almost the Chinese version of “great job” or “well done”.

3. 小吃(xiǎochī): often translated as “snacks”. These are little dishes  or nosh often eaten on the street and are representative of the local food culture. Examples of Shanghai 小吃 include 小笼包(xiǎolóngbāo/steamed dumplings). In Beijing, it’s various sorts of 串儿(chuànr/sticks of food).  小吃(xiǎochī) can come in all sizes, shapes and forms, making it hard to translate.

4.  馋(chán): this means you are easily tempted by food and always want to eat. However, it doesn’t mean you are hungry or an over eater. Rather  you see food as a form of entertainment rather than just necessity, but you are not quite a refined foodie. We often use this word to describe kids and teenage girls since they always want to eat or snack in order to entertain themselves.

5. 鲜(xiān): another food term. This flavor is hard to describe. It’s the taste and sensation of MSG if it were natural and healthy. It’s not just salty or savory. It has more substance. Although 鲜doesn’t describe sweet taste, a dish can be unsalted but extremely 鲜, for example, Chinese style chicken soup or hairy crab. The more well known Japanese version is umami.

6.  山寨 (shānzhài): if you live in China, you are probably no stranger to this relatively new term. It’s not knock off products. It’s products entirely “inspired” by a famous counterpart. However, these 山寨 products usually have their own brands, e.g. “Adibas” or “uPhone”.

7. 气质(qìzhì): this means an intangible quality one carries as the result of a good upbringing and education. If a woman 有气质, it means she is not necessarily beautiful, but has a lot of substance and elegance. The example I often use to explain this word is Hilary Clinton有气质, Kim Kardashian没有气质.

8. 没办法(méibànfǎ): literally “no solution”. It’s a sense of disappointment and acknowledging that life has its limits.  It’s one of those words that truly reflect the national psyche of China.

9. 上火(shànghuǒ): ever heard of eating spicy things, chocolate or mandarin oranges will ignite your “internal fire” and cause you to have pimples or constipation?  You may call it pseudo science, we live by it to balance the ying and yang in our body.

10. ? Let me know your wonderful Chinese word without English equivalent.

 

 

 

Why don’t Chinese Like Camping?

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, culture,Tags: , , ,
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A recent ChinesePod lesson had a few students asking me why Chinese people don’t think camping is fun. (I  made the claim in the lesson podcast.) First, this is gross generalization. Of course many Chinese love camping. But I don’t think camping commands nearly as much respect in China as in North America. This got me thinking how Chinese see the outdoors and our attitude towards leisure, the city and the countryside in general.

From grade school, we are told the fundamental difference between developing and developed nations is the difference in living standards between the city and the country. The Chinese countryside was generally pretty impoverished until recently. And a large part still is. That’s why a lot of people don’t have a romanticized vision of the Provence-like countryside. On the contrary, many do their best to get out of the country. And even city dwellers who were not born in the countryside, the realities of the Chinese countryside are often synonymous with dire living conditions. As idyllic and beautiful as they may be in natural beauty,  they are simply not places for leisure. Although the essence of camping is to embrace nature, it is a post modern concept that serves  urban middle class’s needs to replicate a life style within the bounds of modern comforts and basic necessities. Without such basics, few would volunteer to experience nature au naturale.

Although living standards in rural China have improved leaps and bounds, the “rebranding” has yet to catch up. But I must say that the urban middle class has indeed begun to rediscover the country evident in holiday destination choice and the unrelenting development of holiday resorts in the countryside.

However, fundamentally Chinese see going to the countryside as downgrading not upgrading. Most people think someone should pay them to sleep in a tent not the other way round. That’s why they don’t think it’s worthwhile to invest in things such as camping. Why would you pay for a worse lifestyle? Chinese will spend money on outdoor activities as long as they involve air conditioning, mattress and professionally cooked food. That’s why people would spend a few thousand RMB on hotel stay, but not a few hundred RMB on proper outdoor gear. We don’t respect the countryside and nature enough to do that. That’s why you will continue to see Chinese women in high heels or other forms of ridiculously inappropriate outdoor gear unless Gucci starts to produce hiking boots. 

Beautiful China Part 1: China’s Gary Vaynerchuck

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, culture,Tags: , , , ,
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The subject is not China the country, but china as in 瓷器/cíqì/. Before I go any further though, I must declare that I hardly knew anything about this topic until reading China’s most famous antique collector 马未都/Mǎ Wèidū/Ma Weidu’s books on pottery. These two books are such page turners (who would have thought?) for even the most pedestrian readers. Mr. Ma to antique in China is what Julia Child is to French food or Gary Vaynerchuck is to wine in America. He has unrivaled expertise in the field and has an astounding ability to present any topics in an engaging and relatable way.  I have learned more about Chinese history, philosophy, aesthetics and culture from them than I ever did in school. If you are reading my blog, chances are you have some level of interest in China. In a time when most media coverage about China is about the current booms and busts, I strongly feel there is a side of China that’s much more substantial, intellectual and timeless lost in the discussion. Whether China was under dynastic or Communist rule, 瓷器/cíqì/china has kept its dignity and charm. This is largely why Mr.Ma has become a household name in China. People want to understand more about who we are and what made us who we are. And I think this pursuit is worth sharing with people outside of China as well. Without much English available for Mr. Ma’s books, I decided to use my limited skills to summarize and translate his work on china.  And in the words of the author himself, “should you find pleasure in reading my work, it’s not the messenger but the message that struck a chord with you.”

Before we start with his thoughts on china, I want to share a bit about the author:

马未都(Mǎ Wèidū)

  • Born in Beijing in 1955, Ma started his antique collection in the 1980s, when he was a literature editor. 
  • Normally to be a collector, one either has precious family heirlooms handed down or a lot of money. Ma has neither, which is why he is affectionately known as a “grassroots” collector. Mr. Ma attributes much of his success to his love for Chinese history and being born at the right time.
  • When he started to collect in the 1980s, there were very few people interested in antiques in China as the country had just come out of the Cultural Revolution when antiques were either destroyed, confiscated or hidden. The pubic consciously shied away from both the cultural and monetary value of antiques. Mr. Ma was thus able to build a significant and extensive collection of primarily china and antique furnitures for very little money.  
  • As Ma Weidu became increasingly interested in antiques and spent most of his free time and money on collecting, he finally quit his job and dedicated himself to his collection.
  • In the 1990s, the number of his collection surpassed 1,000 and he noticed that many people were eager to know more about antiques and their stories. It prompted him to open China’s first private museum-观复博物馆/Guānfù Bówùguǎn/Guanfu Museum in Beijing in 1997. The word 观复/guānfù/ comes from Dao De JingLaozi’s (Classic of the Way and Virtue). It means looking back.
  • As China’s economy booms,  people increasingly turn to the past for wisdom, inspiration and of course investment purpose. One could argue that such a demand made Mr. Ma a prolific media figure in China while his tireless work also helped bring antiques to the mains street on the other hand.
  • Mr. Ma frequently appears on TV and gives talks about collecting. He also blogs about a wide range of social issues. His various books on antique collecting and Chinese culture and history are frequently on the best seller list in bookstores across China.
  • Here is a collection of Ma’s videos if you are interested.  

 

 

The Art of Hinting in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, ChinesePod, cultural differences, culture,Tags: , ,
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The Chinese have mastered the art of meaning one thing when saying another. You need to read between and behind the lines to know what they really mean. I share a few classic examples in this ChinesePod blog post to help decipher the code in the message.

A Guide to Shanghai’s Taxis and the Legend Behind One

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, culture, Shanghai,Tags: , , , ,
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In Shanghai, taxis are gentrified by different colors. I for one would rather wait for 10 minutes for a white cab than settling with a red cab. What’s the deal with these color coded messages? Why are golden taxis superior to green ones?

Read this blog entry on ChinesePod to find out why. And what started as a practical guide to taking taxis in Shanghai ends up revealing a precious part of the city’s history and identity, one involves a legendary hotel and a mafia lady.

The Art of Grandparenting in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, parenting, society, tradition,Tags: , , ,
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Those with Chinese in-laws will instantaneously know what the title of the post means. Close family ties are a key feature of Chinese culture. Most Chinese parents will gasp at the idea of their kids moving out unless they relocate to a different place. And they tend to stay very involved in their children’s lives throughout their existence. The one-child policy brings the old tradition to a new height as parental attention is concentrated onto one kid. And it carries on even when the child is married, and especially after a grand child is born. The attention multiplies and shifts to the precious new one.

In China, grandparents have increasingly become primary caretakers of their grandchildren. Traditional family values provide the underlying basis. But some recent social and demographic developments have also greatly contributed to the situation. One major reason is that most Chinese women go back to work after having a child, leaving a void at home. A lot of middle class parents hire a full time nanny to take care of the baby while they work. I am included in this group. However, there are many more parents who don’t have the resources to do so or are unwillingly to hire a stranger to be their baby’s primary caretaker. Grandparents naturally come to the rescue. And most Chinese grandparents see child rearing as a key duty of being grandparents. They are willing to perform tasks usually done by the parents.

It’s even common for Chinese kids to live with their grandparents instead of their own parents. In fact, most of my friends and relatives with young children have made such arrangements. They only take the kids home on weekends. During the week, they visit a few times. I can’t imagine spending so much time away from my kid. But that seems to be the most practical solution for many people. I think this touches on a fundamental difference between Chinese and North American culture. It’s that after a child is born, the Chinese family completely readjusts their life for the kid, though sometimes not in the kid’s best interest. Parents and grandparents tend to see care giving as the most important aspect of bringing up a child. And it’s understandable because they often have limited financial options. We are at the lowest level of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs for child raising.  But it seems even people who have means choose this approach as well. Taking my cousin for example, he and his wife left their daughter under his parents’ care since she was born because both had to work to provide for the family. But as the kid grew up and their financial stability significantly improved, they continued the approach.  They chose preschool near the grandparents’ home, and now looking at elementary school nearby. Their daughter will probably spend her entire childhood living with her grandparents. And many people do the same thing. Therefore in China, parenting is in fact “grandparenting”.

A major cause of “grandparenting” is the one child policy which allows both sets of grandparents to have time and resources to care for one grand child. I was raised primarily by my parents, even though they both had to work. They asked a neighbor to look after me before I was enrolled in preschool. In their days, people did not have grandparents to rely on since they had siblings who also had children. Grandparents could not possibly care for all of them. But of course, many families back then prioritized sons and grandsons. Now the supply and demand dynamic has switched. There are abundant supply of grandparents. Two sets of grandparents often fight over who become primary caregivers. Often the ones with more financial resources and live closer to good schools win.

I often feel Chinese parents have the strongest can-do spirit. They believe that if they work hard and provide the best things for their children, they will most likely to succeed.  And most Chinese parents spend their lives trying to do so. You might think they have paid their dues but as soon as a grandchild is born, they are sucked into the old parenting cycle again.  No wonder Tiger Mom Amy Chua concludes that Chinese parents think their children owe their lives to them. Rightly so.

The Lowdown on Chinese Accents

Jenny Zhu Posted in ChinesePod, culture, society,Tags: , , , , , , , ,
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China is rich with regional dialects and accents. For language learners, while accents complicate matters, they are great linguistic and cultural specimen. In my recent blog post on ChinesePod, I set out to get the scoop on 5 iconic Chinese accents. Read to find what is the sexiest accent in China, which accent is a tell tale sign of scam artists and more.

Maternity Confinement in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, parenting,Tags: , , , , ,
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About a month ago, I became the proud mom of a baby boy. Needless to say, it was the most magical experience of my life.

This post is however less about the warm and fuzzy feelings of a new mom. It is more like the ramblings of a woman on the verge of an emotional breakdown as the result of a unique Chinese tradition-月子/yue4zi. The term refers to a full month of confinement after giving birth. This tradition is said to have started around 2000 years ago in Han Dynasty. It must be one of the most longstanding traditions in China. It was even kept intact during the Cultural Revolution when most other Chinese traditions were denounced.

月子 has its roots in traditional Chinese medicine and is founded on the belief that labor is the most strenuous physical experience a woman goes through. Therefore, the month after labor must be used as a time to recuperate. I think many cultures would concur on this. But what makes 月子 very extreme and a candidate for superstition is its actual practice and the claim on a range of dire consequences if one does not abide by it. Now, let me list some of the things that I have to go through during my 月子:

1. NO GOING OUT. I have not taken a single step out of my house (actually my parents’ house since they insist they are better caregivers) for about a month now. I have not even gone to the balcony.

2. NO SHOWER. I definitely smell. But thank God it is winter and that I have a full time nanny who cleans me with a warm towel everyday.

3. NO HAIR WASHING. This is something that I had to fight for as I have an obsession with clean hair. So by the end of the first week, I almost got down on my knees begging my mom to let the nanny give me a wash. Now, I am granted 2 washes every week.

4. NO BRUSHING TEETH. My salvation is Listerine and cotton buds.

5. NO COLD FOOD. My mom even microwaves apples and oranges for me.

And the list goes on. So why all these extreme practices? Well, without much quantitative or qualitative data, every single Chinese would tell you that by doing any of the above, you will suffer from a related illness sometime down the road. Taking brushing teeth for an example, legend has it that it will cause gum infection and teeth ache. Why no shower? You will develop rheumatism. And you can probably guess what washing hair and eating cold food will lead to.

It is surprising how these seemingly ridiculous acts are still so religiously carried out even in today’s society and by women across demographics in China. And I have to admit that what I am going though is a much toned down version of 月子. I know many young professional Chinese women who are as hardcore as women were 1000 years ago. They would not even leave the bed. I guess the explanation is that sacrificing personal liberty and hygiene for a month is a small price to pay to prevent a debilitating future ailment.

But more importantly, the will of a Chinese mother is unyielding when it comes to 月子. My mom would not back down safeguarding her daughter’s post maternity health.  This brings me to the ultimate revelation of why this old and semi-superstitious tradition has survived and thrived in the past 2000 years: new moms who just gave birth to a new life have a new found level of respect and love for their own mothers. They know as wacky as 月子 might be, it is done out of love. So I will tell my mom in 20 years’ time that if it were not for her insistence, I would have rheumatism, infected gum and really bad migraines.

P.S. I want to thank my wonderful husband who despite being Canadian and completely foreign to the idea of 月子 showed enormous understanding, support and love.

To learn more about the 月子 tradition and related vocabulary in Chinese, listen to this lesson on ChinesePod.com.

Those Curious Chinese

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, life,Tags: , ,
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“It is said that ‘a cat has nine lives,’ yet curiosity would wear them all out,” wrote the Reverend Dr. Ebenezer Cobham Brewer in his 1898 Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. The same does not, however, seem to apply to the Shanghainese or the Chinese in general. They may only have one life, yet there are no signs of it being worn out by inquisitiveness. While curiosity is part of human nature – and what propels mankind forward – the Chinese seem more unrelentingly curious than most.

Crowds often gather in commotion over ‘chicken feather garlic skin’ (鸡毛蒜皮) a Chinese phrase which means insignificant triviality. Sometimes it’s a minor spat between two scooter riders, sometime it’s a vendor waving a big fruit knife and loudly yelling about cheap watermelons. It only takes a few people to reach critical mass to build a decent crowd. As soon as three people stop to watch something they seem to develop their own force of gravity, drawing others in.

So why the curiosity? The question warrants a complicated sociological study.  However, as a Chinese who inherited a heightened sense of curiosity, here is my take: the masses historically lacked affordable means of entertainment both in the country and the city. Most urban families didn’t even have a TV set until the late 1980s. Therefore, people have always looked for alternative sources of entertainment. Drama and fights on the street were a ready and reliable way to pass time. And perhaps more importantly, they provided people with something to talk about. Just as the social value of mass media is not really in the content but the conversations it generates, the most seasoned curious onlookers participate too by providing commentary and passing judgment. They often become mediators of the fight. Over time, this becomes a social obligation; they see themselves as community arbiters who need to be at the scene. They have elevated curiosity from a disposition to a duty.

There is also a demographic element to the curious crowd. They are usually middle-aged (especially retired), elderly or migrant workers. But I believe most Chinese are equally curious at heart, they just try to contain it so that they won’t seem nosy or appear to have nothing better to do with their lives. I myself can’t resist the temptation to briefly investigate when I see a crowd, but I always carry on with my own business and never stand there to watch.

Curiosity can be genuinely quaint, too. I was once on a flight to Singapore with a team of Chinese construction workers. Before the plane took off, one of them pulled the life jacket out from under his seat, blew it up and put it on. While the flight attendant angrily reprimanded him, I saw a man from rural China who, just like a child, was excited about his first plane trip. This is the kind of innocent curiosity that should be cherished.