Humor: China's Six Great Inventions

(A friend forwarded me the following joke – even though we all know humor is lost in translation, it is still tempting to try this one.)

Chinese chess

[in translation]

1. Chinese chess (Xiangqi): emblem of Chinese politics – everything is about protecting the commander in chief.
2. Mahjong:  emblem of the Chinese national – scheme against each other, only one's own success matters.
3. Go (Weiqi): emblem of Chinese thinking – either black or white.
4. Land Battle Chess: emblem of Chinese officialdom – one rank higher crushes you to death.
5. Acrobatics: emblem of China's current situation – all the flip-flops only to maintain stability.
6. Kung Fu: emblem of China's military – a frightening posture, without ever having defeated anyone.

中国六大发明：

1，象棋：中国政治象征——一切为了保帅。

2，麻将：中国国民象征——互相算计，只为自己成功。

3，围棋：中国思维象征——非黑即白。

4，军棋：中国官场象征——官大一级压死人。

5，杂技：中国现状象征——折腾来折腾去只是为了维稳。

6，武术：中国军事象征——架势吓人，没见制服过谁。

The Unbearable Lightness of Nobel Prize Jokes

In my childhood, during the CR, there were no fun books to read, so one of my great entertainment pleasures was to tell and retell international political jokes.  These were jokes I heard from others, or read in Reference News (参考消息,a Party newspaper my parents subscribed to).  The subjects mocked by those jokes were, almost exclusively, the United States and the Soviet Union.  Sometimes the jokes were so clever and funny my playmates and I would roll around on the ground laughing.  Nobody then would have imagined that one day China itself could become a subject of political jokes.

In the vociferous reactions to this year's Nobel Peace Prize, there is a lighter side:  a number of political jokes have been circulating on overseas Chinese websites.  The following is my translation of one of those.

Food to Die For

In the March 1^st issue of the New Yorker, the most fun piece to read is "Where's Chang?" by Calvin Trillin. Despite being a big eater of Szechuan (Sichuan) cuisine, I'd never heard of Peter Chang before, but I’ve converted to a "Changian" afterwards. :-) I also didn't know a restaurant critic's writing could be as delicious as the food –  just read Todd Kliman's description of Chang's Roast Fish:

…really, a heaping plate of expertly fried fish, dusted with cumin, topped off with chopped ginger, fried parsley and diced chilies and served in a thatched bamboo pouch.

And John Binkley's comment on an off-the-menu special provided by Chang:

…crispy eggplant cut like French fries and salt-fried with scallion greens, a hint of cumin, and hot pepper. To die for!

Why not.  From now on I'll be searching for Peter Chang whenever I travel.

Calvin Trillin is such a poised essayist, who is capable of turning a food piece into a thriller. This essay about Peter Chang is structured like a detective story, following each clue from Chang's frequent disappearances and his loyal followers' persistent efforts at tracking him down.  

Those eaters' faithful following of Chang's authentic cooking seems to indicate an increasingly more sophisticated taste for Chinese food among Americans. As a Sichuanese living in New England, one thing I hate the most is the pervasive existence of take-out places that produce Americanized, fake Sichuan food. Whenever I hear an American praising that kind of food I immediately get a toothache. Worse, the majority of Sichuan chefs fall into the awful demand trap and cater to American’s taste expectations; as a consequence it has become very hard to find great Sichuan cuisine in the Boston area.

Fortunately, as I mentioned in a previous post, an excellent newcomer in the Framingham area is Red Pepper, whose chef is a down-to-earth Chongqing man nick-named Old Black, who really knows how to cook. He doesn't use cumin often, as cumin was not commonly used in traditional Sichuan dishes, but Red Pepper does offer a dish named "Cumin Flavored Beef with Chili Sauce," which sounds like a variation of something that might be on Peter Chang's menu. It tastes great.

Even Red Pepper sometimes caters to American tastes. When we lived in Sichuan, one dish Bob and I loved was Dan-Dan Noodles. Naturally that was the first thing we ordered from Red Pepper. The noodles tasted not bad, but were unlike their Chongqing namesake, without even the signature ingredient of sesame butter. The manager told us "Americans don't like real Dan-Dan Noodles," so they modified it.  Thankfully, under our persistence, they’ve added back the sesame.

On a related note, if you are interested in international recipes, it might be worth checking out Matthew Lubin's blog The Laowai Kitchen, written in both English and Chinese.

Where and What to Eat for Chinese New Year

Today is the lunar New Year's Eve and tomorrow starts the year of the Tiger. It is the Chinese tradition to have a great feast today (and for three contiguous days) to celebrate. If you are in the great Boston area, I recommend two restaurants that are the best for Sichuan cuisine:

• Red Pepper (重庆食府), (508) 620-9998, 17 Edgell Road, Framingham, MA (off Rt. 9)
• Chili Garden (川王府), (781) 396-8488, 41 Riverside Ave, Medford, MA

We are going with a bunch of friends to one of them. Can't wait!

One of the must-have traditional New Year dishes is smoked pork (腊肉). The restaurants above smoke the pork themselves to make this wonderful dish and it tastes great. Also, when you go to any Chinese restaurant, don't forget to ask if they have sweet-rice balls (汤圆), a must-have dessert to celebrate the New Year. Not every Chinese restaurant offers it, but good ones should.

 

smoked pork 

sweet-rice balls in rice-wine

四川凉粉 (Sichuan's cold rice noodles)

By the way, my old townsfolk in Chongqing believe a Tiger Year will be severe. I don't think the young generation would buy that. Apparently the older generations have a more pessimistic world view.

Among all the Tiger Years I have lived through, the one that stands out is 1974.  In January that year I finished high school, without any graduation ceremony. In May I was sent down to the countryside as an "insert," and labored in the fields with peasants for nearly four years, until universities re-started in spring 1978.  Life was really harsh in the countryside. But unlike many of my peers, I don't resent that time. I treasure that experience; it opened my eyes to the reality of how people at the bottom of society lived. One of the stories in my book Apologies Forthcoming, "Disciple of the Masses," has parts based on my own experience. Check it out.

Happy New Year everyone!

Hot Peppers for Thanksgiving

Monday night Bob and I had dinner with Jonathan Tel, author of The Beijing of Possibilities, in a Chinese restaurant named Chili Garden (川王府). This is one of the few truly authentic sources of Sichuan cuisine in the Boston area. (Numerous Chinese restaurants here advertise themselves as Sichuan, but provide only dishes catered to American eaters who don't know what they are getting.)  Another authentic Sichuan cuisine is Red Pepper (重庆食府) on Rt. 9, which we go to most frequently, because it has a great Chongqing chef and is closer to us.  Chili Garden and Red Pepper have different specialties and varieties; the dishes in both restaurants are mouth-watering. Not surprisingly, many of their dishes are cooked with hot peppers as the dominant spice. Try them for Thanksgiving if you want to go for something non-traditional.

  A Chengdu restaurant prepares hot peppers for lunch (photo by Xujun)

I had thought I was pretty knowledgeable about Sichuan's, especially Chongqing's, history. So much for my conceit.  One thing Jonathan mentioned during dinner surprised me: he said all chili peppers came from South America, and the Chinese history of eating chili peppers is only about three to four hundred years old.

I was suspicious; in my mind we Sichuanese had been eating hot peppers since time immemorial. Digging further after returning home, however, I had to admit Jonathan was right. Apparently, chili peppers migrated into China at the end of the 16^th century, and the first written record of them was found in Ming Dynasty's '草花谱' ("grass and flower album"). They were called 番椒 ("fan jiao," meaning "foreign pepper") at the time. In Sichuan we call hot peppers 海椒 ("hai jiao"), which makes perfect sense to me now because 'hai' in this context means "overseas."

It seems only appropriate to have a post about food today. Tomorrow, for our vegetarian daughter's sake we are going to have a turkey-free Thanksgiving dinner. While Bob is going to cook all those traditional veggy dishes such as cranberries, sweet potatoes and beans, I will cook a Tofu dish spiced with chili pepper. Not your traditional Thanksgiving dish, but neither the turkey nor the chili pepper tradition has been going that long after all. The White House's hypocritical tradition of pardoning one turkey (and eating another) is even shorter. Anyhow, Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

The "Beefiest" Translation

The Chinese internet is a melting pot of popular creations, where new expressions (even new words/characters) constantly emerge like an endless stream. This presents a continuous challenge to a translator like me.

One popular adjective created and becoming fashionable in the new millennium is '最牛'. It is a mocking term that can mean, in humorless translation, "boldest" or "hottest" or "most awesome" or "formidable," depending on the object it modifies. The following image, borrowed from a Chinese blog called 西交虫, might help illustrate the meaning of '最牛':

最牛的司机  "The most [ ] driver"

I've left the English translation for '最牛' blank in the caption above, because none of the English adjectives I mentioned earlier can convey the mocking tone of this Chinese term. Furthermore, "awesome" is a commending word while '最牛' could be used with either positive or negative connotation. The other modifiers might be neutral enough, but they do not bring laughter.

When in doubt, I find that often the best solution to such a challenge is go for the literal, or verbatim (直译), as opposed to free translation by meaning (意译). In this case, because '牛' means "cow," and an associated adjective is "beefy," I'm inclined to translate '最牛' as "the beefiest." The (invisible) driver in the above image thus becomes "the beefiest driver."

The origin of '最牛' seems no longer traceable. In fact, I noticed on the Chinese internet that several such origin-seeking questions had met with mocking answers like "you've posed the beefiest question!". I remember one of the first times the term caught my eye was when bloggers named the Chongqing nail house "the beefiest nail house" and brought it to the attention of the public and the media (even NYT) in early 2007.

More recently, this seemly harmless mocking expression has been frequently applied to bad behaviors of government officials. For example, when a judge tried to force Zhang Hui, a victim of Shanghai hooks, to drop his lawsuit and Zhang did not agree, the judge angrily yelled at Zhang as if to a child, "Be obedient!" ("你要听话!") Immediately that judge surnamed Huang was termed "the beefiest judge" on the internet.

"The beefiest official line" occurred in Guangzhou two weeks ago on Oct. 30^th. In a public hearing on traffic jams, attended by several departments of the city government, a reporter asked whether the traffic police should first notify the public before closing a road. A middle-aged man replied, "Do I have to tell you whether I'm going to shit or not? Do I have to tell you whether my shit stinks or not?" These words quickly became a catch phrase on the internet, which in turn led to the man's public apology and job suspension.

The term has become so trendy that even main stream media can't afford to not use it. On Nov. 11^th, xinhuanet.com reported "The Beefiest Developer Sentenced to Death," about a Chongqing developer who tried to get rid of a nail house owned by an old couple, by hiring thugs to kill their only son.

"Beefiest" is only one of many new slang words coming into being with the internet. I don't view this as simple folk language evolution; rather internet slang symbolizes a new popular culture, providing for the first time a viable means for Chinese people to publicly make fun of officials. I would be curious to know how those officials who are named "the beefiest" something feel when they see their new title. Perhaps they will step a bit more gingerly next time.

Related post: "The Beefiest" (最牛) and "It Sucks"

Good Translation is Hard to Find

The China Beat posted a funny Chinese poem with an excellent English translation by David Moser. I especially loved how the rhymes were done, all the while successfully retaining the poem's original humor. In other words, little has been lost in the translation.

Chinese Humor Posters

A friend sent me the following photos. If you can read Chinese, you're guaranteed to get a few chuckles out of them. The English translation on some of the posters is incorrect, so I provided my own. I'm afraid though, the humor may have been lost in translation.

"Everyone pretends to be proper; I'll have to pretend to be improper"

"Dare to love, dare to elope"


"Carrying talent is like being pregnant, only time can tell"

"Oh love is like a ghost - more people believe in it than encounter it."

Mischievous Dubbing (恶搞): US and China

Saturday Night Live's latest, 7-minute parody is an excellent and uproarious summary of Thursday's vice presidential debate. The best performer is Tina Fey, who looks totally like the real Palin, to the turn of her hair, or lip. CNN has a good comment on this – "It's starting to feel like Tina Fey is running for vice president."

Considering that Fey's normal picture is quite easily distinguished, I'd say she has the talent of an Oscar actress. She parodied Palin's body language and facial expressions extremely true to form; I had a very hard time telling her from Palin. But what made me laugh the most was how she captures Palin's incoherent and evasive speaking style. At one point the Fey-Palin says, "We are not afraid to get mavericky in there, and not got to allow that, and also to the great Ronald Regan." This way of randomly throwing together words and phrases without regard to grammar or meaning, was exactly my impression of Palin's speaking when I watched the debate Thursday night. Palin is worse than George Bush in this regard – though both appear uncultured, and Bush probably more often pronounces words incorrectly, he at least seems to genuinely mean what he says, even when I am almost sure he does not. Given how old McCain is, I would be extremely worried if McCain got sick and this lady became our president. Apparently this is also a main reason that many of my Chinese friends won't vote for McCain. Call it a shallow and intuitive way of reasoning. But what more can common voters do if not judge based on impression? I think McCain made his biggest mistake by choosing such a (...) running mate.

Now let's return to entertainment, and China. Such parody of public figures is one of those things I enjoy about America, a relaxed political culture that is missing in China. But in recent years, there has been a sort of Chinese equivalent called "e-gao" (恶搞), or, as a direct translation, "mischievous dubs." The Chinese Wikipedia interprets the term as "to disintegrate a serious topic and reconstruct it as prank entertainment, either comedic or satiric in style." The main difference to me, however, is that the Chinese dubbing videos, usually based on domestic and foreign movies and TV shows, almost never name real individuals, and avoid mocking political figures. Instead they focus on fictional characters or events, entertainment products, or businesses. Another notable feature is that nearly all of those Chinese dubs use the original video clips but switch the voices and subtitles, a creative approach to cut down the cost. The wide availability of the internet, of course, provides the platform for the "mischievous dubs" to reach its audience.

Apparently, in China the first notable "mischievous dub" occurred in December 2005, when an as yet unknown man named Hu Ge parodied the reputed director Chen Kaige's new movie, "The Promise," changing the story of an ancient Chinese prince to a modern murder case. Hu's short dub film spread apace, receiving more applause than the original movie. Chen Kaige, who apparently was unfamiliar with parody culture, bristled with anger and threatened to bring a copyright lawsuit against Hu. In February 2006, at the Berlin International Film Festival, where he was about to launch "The Promise" for Europe, director Chen said in indignation to reporters, "To be a man one can't be so shameless!"

The case attracted attention from lawyers nationwide, most predicted Hu would lose the lawsuit. From outside however, Richard Stallman, the founder of Free Software Foundation, concluded in an interview with a Chinese blogger that "Parodies like this one are legally considered 'fair use'. Courts have ruled that you don't need to get someone's permission before you make fun of him by parodying his work. It is lawful, pure and simple." The Chinese neitizens, meanwhile, were split. Supporters of each side argued noisily online.

In the end, there wasn't a lawsuit after all. The public debate calmed down after Hu made an apology to director Chen. But the damage was done: Hu's dub film started China's parody culture, which quickly became popular, and was everywhere by the summer of 2006. "Finally one day, someone could no longer stand it." NetEase reported in August 2006. The State Administration of Radio, Film and Television issued an "anti-parody" regulation. NetEase mourned the new pop culture's immature death by publishing the list of the "top ten mischievous dubs." It also suggested, "If we can't mischievously dub, at least we can kind-heartedly dub."

Mischievously or not, despite the regulation, Chinese parodies did not simply go away. As recent as last month, a new one surfaced on YouTube mocking the Hong Kong movie Red Cliff and making fun of a Chinese company named Zhifubao. It is hilarious if you understand Chinese. (Thanks to Ji Haidong who pointed it to me.)

What I'm hoping though is to see political parodies like those on SNL begin to appear in China. The day when that happens would mark a new era of China's political culture.

Chinese Black Humor

中国人在食品中完成了化学扫盲：从大米里我们认识了石蜡，从火腿里我们认识了敌敌畏，从咸鸭蛋、辣椒酱里我们认识了苏丹红，从火锅里我们认识了福尔马林， 从银耳、蜜枣里我们认识了硫磺，木耳中认识了硫酸铜，今天三鹿又让同胞知道了三聚氰胺的化学作用。

How do Chinese learn chemistry? We study our food:
We learn to recognize paraffin in rice,
to recognize DDVP (dichlorvos - an insecticide) in ham,
to recognize Sudan Red in salted duck eggs and hot pepper sauce,
to recognize formaldehyde in hot pot,
to recognize sulphur in tremella (yin er) and candied dates,
to recognize copper sulphate in edible fungus (mu er).
Today we learn the chemical effect of melamine from Sanlu milk.

外国人喝牛奶结实了，中国人喝牛奶结石了

Foreigners drink cow milk to be strong;
Chinese drink cow milk to have stones.

日本人口号： 一天一杯牛奶，振兴一个民族；
中国人口号：一天一杯牛奶，震惊一个民族！

Japanese slogan: a cup of milk a day, invigorate a nation;
Chinese slogan: a cup of milk a day, eviscerate a nation!

(Note: I'm not satisfied with the last translation. Improvement anyone?)

Hidden Code in the Opening Ceremony

A friend who recently returned from Beijing told the story of how Beijingers decoded the Olympics opening ceremony.

The first element was uncovered based on the widespread suspicion of the way "harmony" was displayed. Several times during the performances, the character 和 appeared without its usual accompanying 谐. The only explanation was that this was intentional. On the other hand, though the word 和 is normally pronounced as "he," when playing mahjong it appears on a tile and is read as "Hu" - 胡.

Then came the picture of a silk weaver, followed by scenes of the Silk Road. Well, the traditional Chinese word for silk is 锦 - Jin.

Next, ocean waves carried many boats, and formations showed Zheng He leading a team of voyagers into the Pacific. What is the Chinese character for "waves"? 涛 - tao.

Do you see the code now?

I am truly fond of the street wisdom of Beijingers and their fun-seeking nature. No doubt more messages will be unraveled in the months to come. :-)

Funny Bits from Beijing Olympics

I was away last week and did not get the time to share with you a few funny notes sent by friends in China. In my 20 years living in the US, one big cultural pity is that I rarely laugh at English jokes. I'm sure those of you "foreigners" who have moved to China have the same problem. A translated joke is often even worse – we'll all be lost in translation. Nonetheless, lets try a few here.

"加油!" – gas up!

A foreigner in Beijing asks a Chinese: "Gas prices are rising like crazy, why do all the Chinese keep shouting 'Gas Up' in the Games? Chinese are too rich."

The Most Welcome Athlete

Chinese sports fans elected US shooter Matt Emmons as the most welcome Olympic athlete.

In Athens, with Matt Emmons far ahead in the 50-meter three-position Olympic rifle final, his last shot went into someone else's target and he gave up the gold medal to China.

In Beijing, in the exact same position, with a huge lead going into the final shot of the same event, Emmons didn’t hit the wrong target; he missed. Again he gave the medal to China.

Heraclitus said, "No one steps in the same river twice." But Chairman Mao said, "A foreigner, coming to China from ten thousand miles away, treats the Chinese's liberation cause as his own, what is the spirit? It is the international spirit, it is the communist spirit, everyone should learn this spirit."

An old friend of the Chinese people, Matt Emmons proved Heraclitus wrong by following Chairman Mao's instructions.

Chongqing Idioms Forbidden during Olympics

Two Chongqing tourists A and B arrived at Beijing. On a bus, A looked at the map and said, "Lets first kill to Tiananmen, then Chairman Mao's Memorial, then Zhongnanhai." B answered, "Good, we'll do what you said, kill all the way along this route." (Chongqing idiom: "kill the way" 杀过去 means "go there.") Alarmed Beijing passengers reported their dialogue to the police and the two Chongqing men were arrested as soon as they got off the bus.

After several hours interrogation and detention in the police station, they were released. Walking to the Tiananmen Square, the two men kept silent. They just looked at each other and sighed. At last, A said to B, "Why don't you shoot?" B replied, "You didn't shoot, why do I dare to shoot?" (Chongqing idiom: "shoot" 开腔 means "talk.") Before they knew their arms were twisted by plain-clothe police.

A week later the two Chongqing men came out of the detention house. They looked at each other. A said, "This is good. My pockets are all empty. Where should we go to get some bullets?" (Chongqing idiom: "bullet" 子弹 means "money.") The armed guards at the gate charged up and pinned them down on the ground.

Eventually, the Public Security Bureau issued a nationwide notice: "Chongqing idioms are strictly forbidden during the Beijing Olympics."

(Note: the story is not real but the idioms are)

English Signs in China

船到桥头自然直：The boat will become straight when it comes to the bridge

注意安全小心路滑：To take notice of safe. The slippery are very crafty

夫妻肺片：Husband and wife’s lung slice dish

童子鸡：Chicken without sexual life