The Sister-in-law’s Vinegar Fish. 西湖醋鱼

During the Southern Song dynasty, there lived two Song brothers who were intellects. However, they did not want to work for the government choosing to live the simple life of fishermen. An evil local officer who coverted the elder Song brother's beautiful wife, schemed to have him poisoned. When the younger brother went to the government office 衙门 yámen to lodge a complaint, it was not only disregared but he was also beaten up.

He had no choice but to flee Hangzhou for his own safety. Just before he left, his sister-in-law used sugar and vinegar to cook him a parting meal with a fish saying “这菜有酸有甜,望你有出头之日,勿忘今日辛酸” This dish is both sweet and sour. I hope that should you later succeed in Life, that you do not forget the bitterness of this day."

The younger brother later became renowned for helping his country to fight against invaders and was rewarded with a high status. He returned to his hometown to punish the evil doers. However he could not find any traces of his sister-in-law. One day while attending a banquet he tasted the familiar fish dish and discovered his sister-in-law living in incognito 隐姓埋名 yǐnxìng-máimíng and they were reunited.

Henceforth, this dish was known as 西湖醋鱼 Xī Hú cùyú (West Lake Vinegar Fish). It was also sometimes called Sister-in-law's Treasures “叔嫂传珍” shūsǎo chuánzhēn and was passed down as another of Hangzhou's famous dishes.

I dug into the tender meat of the succulent fish without hesitation and liked the mild taste of vinegar rounded off by the sweetness of sugar. There is just a tinge of sourness, enough to touch the soft spot of my heart at the plight of the sister-in-law but not sharp enough to bring out any tears…

.

A Dish Named After A Poet. 东坡肉

The first night in Hángzhōu 杭州, we went to its most famous restaurant serving not only authentic Hangzhou dishes but also cooked in the 正宗 zhèngzōng orthodox way. 楼外楼 lóu wài lóu is a 150 plus years old establisment sited in an grand mansion refurbished into a beautifully decorated restaurant. Many felt that it fully deserved its reputation of being the best restaurant south of the Yangtse “江南第一楼” Jiāngnán dì-yī lóu. It was unfortunate that the rooms facing West Lake 西湖 Xī Hú were under renovation or we could be having dinner taking in the lovely lake scene. Still, I was glad to be there that night and was treated to many famous Hangzhou dishes. As promised, below is the most famous dish of them all.

During the reign of the Song 宋 Sòng dynasty 苏东坡 Sū Dōngpō became the regional official of 杭州 Hángzhōu (capital of 浙江 Zhèjiāng province). He organized the people to dredge the West Lake 西湖 Xī Hú and to build dykes to irrigate the field. In the spring of that year, some of the citizens knowing how Sū Dōngpō loved meat, sent him pork and wine. Receiving so much, he felt that he should share it and instructed his household to cook the meat for the labourer working on the dyke.

By accident, his servants added the wine to the meat while they were cooking it resulting in the pork having a most fragrant and appetizing taste. The people copied this distinctive method of cooking and named it after him. Hence, this dish became known as “东坡肉” dōngpōròu and Hangzhou's most famous traditional dish.

I stared at the thick slice of pork, two third of which is fat and hesitated to take a bite though it looked and smell so appetizing. It has a rich reddish brown lustre and an aromatic wine fragrance. My dining companion said that “this is a most sinful dish” and I have to agree. But one bite and I’m in gastronomic heaven. The rich full meaty taste was greatly enhanced by the fragrant wine and yes, the tender succulent fat. To say it was lovely was an understatement… It was more like love…

Going to Hangzhou’s West Lake 苏东坡的西湖

.

I’ll be going to Hangzhou 杭州 Hángzhōu tonight and spent a couple of days there before going to Suzhou and Shanghai. It is on company business, unfortunately. But I never fail to pause and smell the flowers along any path I travel. And I’m sure there will be stories to share when I get back.

I’ll of course find my way to the famed West Lake, where the weeping willows framed its bank. It was said that it was governor and poet Sū Dōngpō 苏东坡 who introduced these graceful weeping willows that really bring out its character. And he wrote a famous poem that compared West Lake 西湖 Xī Hú to 西施 Xishi, one of the four most beautiful woman in historical China.

West Lake in Sunshine and Rain.

饮湖上初晴后雨
yǐn hú shàng chū qíng hòu yǔ

水光潋滟晴方好,
shuǐ guāng liànyàn qíng fāng hǎo
山色空蒙雨亦奇。
shānsè kōng méng yǔ yì qí
欲把西湖比西子,
yù bǎ Xī Hú bǐ Xishi
淡妆浓抹总相宜。
dàn zhuāng mā zǒng xiāngyí

Shimmering water on a bright sunny day. or the
marvellous sight of distant rain veiled hills
West Lake is as Xishi, beautiful -
whether plainly dressed or richly adorned.

I will be writing more about Sū Dōngpō 苏东坡 when I get back. Not only is he a good 官 guān official and calligrapher but he also has a famous dish 东坡肉 dōngpōròu named after him. How many poets do you know who can lay claim to that?

.

Invitation to Wine - Part II. 将进酒

I am not much of a drinker and my capacity for liquor 酒量 jiǔliàng is not good. I do not enjoy getting drunk because I do not believe one can drown one’s worries in drink 借酒浇愁 jièjiǔ-jiāochóu or forget oneself in one’s cups 酒后失态 jiǔhòushītài.

I do enjoy a drink or two in quiet setting and good conversation. So I do not really “share” the joy of drinking 酒兴 jiǔxìng as brought up in this and other drinking poems. But I can appreciate the beauty and romanticism of release and abandonment from mundane existence and “endless worries” through wine especially in the age of the gentlemen scholar.

Having paused before the wonderful calligraphy, the strong drinkers turned to head towards the bar to continue their 进酒 jìnjiǔ toasts. While we, the group of weaker drinkers already over our head in wine headed the other directions to the safety of our beds and our drunken dreams. I wondered if I will enjoy drinking more if I can hold my liquor better? To be honest, probably. But I being what I am, can only enjoy the poems on drinking more than the drinks itself; maybe more than some famous drinkers...

与君歌一曲, 请君为我侧耳听。
yǔ jūn gē yī qū, qǐng jūn wèi wǒ cè'ěr tīng 。
钟鼓馔玉不足贵, 但愿长醉不愿醒。
zhōng gǔ zhuàn yù bùzú guì, dànyuàn cháng zuì bù yuàn xǐng 。
古来圣贤皆寂寞, 惟有饮者留其名。
gǔlái shèngxián jiē jìmò, wéiyǒu yǐn zhě liú qí míng 。
陈王昔时宴平乐, 斗酒十千恣欢谑。
chén wáng xī shí yàn pínglè, dòu jiǔ shí qiān zì huān xuè 。
主人何为言少钱, 径须沽取对君酌。
zhǔrén hé wèi yán shǎo qián, jìng xū gū qǔ duì jūn zhuó 。
五花马,千金裘, 呼儿将出换美酒,
wǔ huā mǎ, qiān jīn qiú, hū ér jiāng chū huàn měijiǔ,
与尔同销万古愁。
yǔ ěr tóng xiāo wàngǔ chóu。

For you I will sing a tune,
Please do hear me sing.
Bells and drums, delicacies and jades are not that precious,
I only wish I could stay drunk and not wake.
The ancient sages were all lonely,
Only the drinkers leave their names.
King Chen threw a feast in Ping Le,
Ten thousand rounds of toasts and happy banters.
My host, why complain lack of money?
Just buy more drinks for your guests
With my rare horse and expensive fur,
In exchange for more fragrant wine,
To melt away our endless worries.

.

Invitation to Wine - Part I 将进酒

It has been some time since I was entertained to a formal dinner in China and things have changed. That night in Dongguan we were seated lucky eighteen to a large table, in one of many round tables. Even before the food arrived, the toasting began. And they were doing it with red wine in elegant wine glasses now.

There were one to one toast, many to one toast and all round toast. In the all round toast where the dinner guests were seated too far apart to clink glasses, we just clink the base of the glass to the large glass Lazy Susan in the centre of the table.

It was a good thing that only a little wine was poured each time but the rounds were endless. Waves and waves of toasting for every conceivable reasons. And it is considered good form to empty your cups. 感情深，一口闷; 感情浅，舔一舔 gǎnqíngshēn, yīkǒumēn; gǎnqíngqiǎn, tiǎnyītiǎn. “If our friendship is deep, drink to the bottom, if shallow, drink a little.” So it is difficult to turn down drinks when they were showing you their empty glasses.

As we unsteadily filed out from the restaurant after the bout to the lobby, there was a huge painting on the wall. It was a poem by the famous poet 李白 lǐbái. My boss paused before it and praised the poem drawing nods from all the ‘famous’ drinkers. This is the first part of the poem - 将进酒 jiāngjìnjiǔ and my translation (I’ll be happy to receive any comments including brickbats).

君不见黄河之水天上来, 奔流到海不复回。
jūn bùjiàn HuángHé zhī shuǐ tiānshàng lái, bēnliú dào hǎi bùfù huí。
君不见高堂明镜悲白发, 朝如青丝暮成雪。
jūn bùjiàn gāotáng míngjìng bēi báifà, zhāo rú qīngsī mù chéng xuě。
人生得意须尽欢, 莫使金樽空对月。
rénshēng déyì xū jìn huān, mò shǐ jīn zūn kōng duì yuè 。
天生我材必有用, 千金散尽还复来。
tiānshēng wǒ cái bì yǒuyòng, qiānjīn sàn jìn hái fù lái
烹羊宰牛且为乐, 会须一饮三百杯。
pēng yáng zǎi niú qiě wèi lè, huì xū yī yǐn sān bǎi bēi。
岑夫子,丹丘生, 将进酒,君莫停。
cén fūzǐ, dānqiū shēng, jiāngjìnjiǔ, jūn mò tíng。

Do you not see the yellow river descending from Heaven,
Rushing out to sea, never to return?
Do you not see in the hall’s mirror your sad white hair,
Silken black in the morning, snow white by night?
Life is to be enjoyed while it is good,
Tip not an empty cup to the moon.
The talent Heaven gifted should be used,
For what gold spent to return.
Cook a goat, slaughter a cow for a feast,
And drink up three hundred cups!
Master Cen, young Danqiu,
Bring in the wine, let it never stop.

(The second part of this poem will continue in the next post…)

.

A Ninja is A Patient Man. 忍者

.

In the past, when I saw someone wearing a T-shirt with a large 忍 in the middle of it, I used to think that he is a man who values patience due to my ignorance. But he is more likely to be a martial art fan for 忍 rěn is short for 忍者 rěnzhě or ninja. 忍 is “endure” and 者 zhě is “person who...” but though 忍者 literally means “one who endures”, it is not the intended meaning in Japanese.

Ninja is the reading of two kanji 忍者 but written as shinobi-no-mono (忍の者), which is the native Japanese word for people who practice ninjutsu 忍术 rěnshù .

In feudal Japan, ninja are often employed as spy 间谍 jiàndié and assassin 刺客 cìkè. 刺客 is an interesting word composing of 刺 cì “stab” and 客 kè “guest, visitor or traveler”. Thus, an assassin could be a guest who stabs you in the dark if you are not careful!

It is not easy to be a ninja. Not only do you have to master Ninja Juhakkie the 18 skills of Ninja 忍身十八形 rěnshēnshíbāxíng but also Bugei Juhappan the 18 martial arts of the samurai 武芸十八般 wǔyúnshíbābān. I think it ironical that the first skill listed under the skills of Ninja is Seishinteki Kyoyo (精神的教养 jīngshén de jiàoyǎng spiritual refinement) while that of the samurai is Jujutsu / Kenpo (柔术 / 拳法 róushù / quánfǎ unarmed techniques), don’t you?

.

A Knife Over the Heart 忍耐

What my taxi driver said (refer to previous post) made me recalled the Chinese word 忍耐 rěnnài which means “to exercise patience” or “to show restraint”. Taken individually both the characters 忍 rěn and 耐 nài means the same – “endure, tolerate”. This is a very important word in Chinese moral teaching and is stressed by the following emphasis by which all Chinese youngsters are taught.

忍 [rěn] 心上一把刀 xīnshàngyíbǎdāo
A blade over the heart
耐 [nài] 面子少三寸 miànzishǎosāncùn
Face less three inches

The character 忍 rěn is composed of 刃 rèn ('blade') phonetic over 心 (xīn) 'heart'. It is not easy to tolerate sometimes “like a blade over the heart”. That is why it is even more virtuous to be able to show restraint in the face of such aggravation.

Sometimes, we cannot endure further because of our pride, of what we deemed as a slap to our face. Please note that the character 耐 nài is made up of 而 ér (this serves as the phonetic but is pronounced differently in ancient time - *nzi) and 寸 (cùn) 'inch'. 而 is very close in writing to 面 [miàn] “face” but less 3 strokes (or 3 inches) in total. Thus, if we are not so particular about our “face” and are willing to concede 3 inches; we will find the situation much easier to tolerate. From these examples, you can appreciate the beauty of the Chinese written language. Below are some Chinese compound words and proverbs that further stressed tolerance. The reasons why those characters are combined to give the meanings are pretty obvious.

忍 rěn + 心 xīn 'heart' = 忍心 rěnxīn have the heart to
忍 rěn + 受 shòu ‘receive’ = 忍受 rěnshòu v. endure; bear
忍 rěn + 残 cán ‘savage’ = 残忍 cánrěn adj. cruel; ruthless (can endure savagery)
忍 rěn + 坚 jiān ‘solid; firm’ = 坚忍 jiānrěn adj. steadfast and persevering (firm in enduring)
忍 rěn + 让 ràng ‘let, allow’ = 忍让 rěnràng v. be conciliatory
忍诟偷生 rěngòu-tōushēng vp. (“endure shame, drag out an ignoble existence”) = endure disgrace in order to stay alive
忍气吞声 rěnqì-tūnshēng vp. (“endure anger swallow sound”) = swallow anger

耐 nài + 心 xīn 'heart' = 耐心 nàixīn adj. patient
耐 nài + 烦 fán ‘be vexed’ = 耐烦 nàifán adj. patient (able to tolerate being vexed)
耐 nài + 性 xìng ‘nature’ = 耐性 nàixìng n. patience; endurance
耐 nài + 劳 láo ‘labor’ = 耐劳 nàiláo adj. diligent; able to stand hard work
吃苦耐劳 chīkǔ-nàiláo vo. (“eat bitter endure labour”) = endure hardships

These examples should give a good idea of how a lot of Chinese words are constructed, putting two or more similar or contrasting characters to form a word with the same or totally new meaning. The above are examples with logical explanation but there are vexing examples where one will be hard pressed to find logic. That is why Mandarin is so difficult to learn but then Chinese speakers said the same thing of English! Isn’t this food for thought? 耐人寻味 nàirénxúnwèi?

.

What My Taxi Driver Taught Me. 忍无可忍

20 April, 7.30 a.m.: Ben, my regular taxi driver was ferrying me to KLIA to catch a flight to attend the Food Hotel Asia Trade Show in Singapore. As we backed up in heavy traffic, we talked about how too many cars in densely populated neighborhood often led to parking disputes. I had borne the brunt of such distaste.

Our conversation led us to a recent incident reported in the newspaper where one man bashed the head of another in with a large rock due a minor accident. And for what? He will be jailed a long time for that moment of outburst if found guilty. It was then, Ben spouted out “退一步, 海阔天空” tuìyībù, hǎikuò-tiānkōng loosely translated as “taking a step back, the situation is as boundless as the sea and sky”. I was both amused and impressed. I reached for my notebook and asked him to repeat that.

He obliged. Then with a smile, he added “忍一时, 风平浪静” rěnyīshí, fēngpíng-làngjìng “tolerate for a while, both the wind and waves calm down”, to further drive in his point.

But he told me there are times when one is really at the end of his tolerance 忍无可忍 rěnwúkěrěn. His neighbor will steal anything he can reach from his side of the fence – pails, brushes, car shampoo, etc. At times like this he reminded himself of his neighbor’s elderly parent who are such nice and polite people, and that 10 brushes only costs RM12.00. So he concluded with a sigh – still I find the reasons to tolerate 还是要忍 háishiyàorěn.

As we approached the airport building, this thought crossed my mind before I alighted from the car - 三人行必有我师 sānrénxíng bìyǒuwǒshī, “there is a teacher among every three persons I meet”…

.

Learning Chinese – Part I. 另一种语言

.

It is not easy learning another language. Especially Chinese which is universally acknowledge as one of the most difficult in the world. But I had to do it. Why? Being of Chinese descent is a good reason. But more so because I once read that –

If you know only one language, you're a prisoner, stuck in the tyranny of that one language.
-Andrew Cohen, professor of linguistics (1944- )
如果你只会一种语言,你就是它的暴政囚犯.

rúguǒ nǐ zhǐhuì yīzhǒng yǔyán, nǐ jiùshì nà yǔyán de bàozhèng qiúfàn

And you never know how true that is until you start to learn another language. You thought the language you mastered contained all you need and you took pride in the beauty of your language until you took up another and see a whole new world. It will not in any way diminish the appreciation of your own language, but enhance it by broadening your views. Federico Fellini puts it better –

A different language is a different vision of life.
另一种语言是生活的另一种眼光.
lìngyīzhǒng yǔyán shì lìngyīzhǒng yǎnguāng

Learning another language is like stepping through the door to another dimension. You can only go to that dimension if you have that magic key, and that magic key is its language. The greater your command of that language, the richer is the unfolding scenery. I am determined that it is worth the sacrifice for the Czech 捷克人 jiékèrén said it is living a new life.

Kolik jazyků znáš, tolikrát jsi člověkem.
You live a new life for every new language you speak.
If you know only one language, you live only once.
(Czech proverb)

If you followed this blog, you will already know how much I gained by travelling down this unfamiliar road. The experience I had, the people I met, the knowledge I gained; I will never have enjoyed that had I not made those “desperate” attempts to bridge the gap. It was not all fun. I found myself in some rather uncomfortable situations when my attempt to communicate fell flat. I found people at the other end of the divide who could not warm up to me because I could not effectively communicate (being a rather reserved person did not help either). I was not “one of them” because I could not speak their lingo. The problem is not with them. The problem is with of my command of the language. And only I can do something about it. For the Russian 苏联人 Sūliánrén said –

Language is not honey but it can bind everything (person).

语言不是蜜，却可粘住一切东西。
yǔyán bùshì mì, quèkě zhānzhù yīqiè dōngxi.

I am under no illusion how difficult this will be. But I know how much I stand to gain. I can only hope it will get easier as it goes along for everything is more difficult at the start. 凡是总是由难而易 fánshì zǒngshì yóunán éryì. After all Chinese has an old saying that said “Bitter first, sweet later” 先苦后甜 xiānkǔhòutián…

.

“Reborn at the End of the Road” 绝处逢生

.

I waited in a long queue to have the book I bought signed. When it was my turn, I told Dr. Hsu that of the 19 books he wrote this was the only one I could read. It was translated into English. He looked up, gave me that boyish smile of his and said that more are being translated. The book I gave him to sign is “Reborn at the End of the Road” or 绝处逢生 juéchù-féngshēng. The Chinese title is a proverb meaning “being unexpectedly rescued from a hopeless situation”.

And that is what Dr. Hsu preached in that book. That cancer is not the end a road but the beginning of a new one. He boldly declared that 癌症不是 - 症! Áizhèng bù shì zhèng! meaning that cancer is not a disease of the body. He said that cancer is a distortion of our emotion that over time expresses itself as a disease. That modern medical treatment only emphasizes on the treatment of the body hence only the symptoms. In that, it is only attending to the trifles while neglecting the essentials, 舍本逐末 shěběn-zhúmò. He believed treatment should be from a holistic approach, from body, mind and spirit 身心灵 shēnxīnlíng. If we only rely on what medical science or alternative medicine can provide, it will never be enough for we did not treat the root cause; for cancer is just a reflection of our life’s condition through our body. Thus, we can only cure cancer through our heart「心」xīn.

If we believe Dr. Hsu, we will believe that cancer is a turning point in our life. It forces us to re-examine our life and ask “what do we live for?” If we are honest with ourselves and boldly live the life we wanted, we will be liberated and find the reason and will to live. I cannot do justice to this wonderful book with this brief description and can only recommend that you read it yourself even if you are healthy. For the lesson within applies to everyone whether healthy or sick…

(p.s. This is probably one of the best books to give to a patient. I once gave “Searching for Shangrila” to a friend who had a heart attack. (如果你用心寻找, 香格里拉可能就在一杯热腾腾的酥油茶中… If you search with your heart, Shangri-la may even be found in a steaming cup of yak butter tea…). When I told him I was deliberating between giving him that book and “Reading Lolita in Teheran”, he cracked up until tears rolled down his eyes and said “you’re killing me!” Well, I did not. And laughing in the face of death may have opened up a few stitches but did his heart a world of good.)

.

Trying Hard to Chew 贪多嚼不烂

Sitting in the large hall with a few hundred other participants, the thought I must have bitten off more than I could chew 贪多嚼不烂 tānduō jiáobulàn crossed my mind. Here I was attending a seminar given totally in Mandarin on emotion 情绪 qíng xù when I did not even know what this word was before I signed up. When I started this blog, I intended to immerse myself into the Chinese speaking world to see what rubs off besides the language. Anyway, I believed that to really learn something, one has to leave familiar ground and extend beyond our comfort zone.

So there I sat, stretching my ears to pick up unfamiliar sounds, words and phrases from 1 p.m. in the afternoon to 9 p.m. at night. At the end, my ears were exhausted and my head was swimming but I was still thinking in English. I could comprehend maybe 80% to 90% of what was conveyed in general (and much less word for word) and which was not good enough for I would not want the doctor who is deciding whether I am sane or not to only understand 90% of what I was saying and guessing the rest!

This team of experts from Taiwan was led by Dr. Xu TianSheng 许添盛 (also Hsu Tien-Sheng due to the way Chinese is pronounced in English). They asked a provocative question – did you invite your depression 忧郁症 yōuyùzhèng, chronic diseases 慢性病 mànxìngbìng and cancer 癌症 áizhèng to be your spokesman? All 5 talks were preceded by a short sketch that impressed upon the audience how little control we have on our emotions. How we let powerful emotions such as panic 恐慌 kǒnghuāng, anxiety 焦虑 jiāolǜ, anger 愤怒 fènnù, self-reproach 自责 zìzé and jealousy 妒忌 dùjì rule us. I was swarmed not only by feelings but also words of feelings! Now I was beginning to feel a little inadequate, 不自量力 bùzìliànglì, of trying to run before I could walk. “没关系” méi guānxi (never mind), I tried to console myself. A missed word or two here and there was not going to trip me.

The speakers told us how we recognize these emotions as negative so we strived to restrain and suppress them. But this misunderstanding slowly and gradually leads to a distortion of our energy that affected both our physical and mental health. And as a result, we became afflicted with diseases. It also resulted in wasting a precious opportunity to reflect on what our body and emotion is trying to tell us. I was beginning to understand what 普悦 pǔyuè meant (see April 5 post on Emotional Utopia) when she told us that she listened to what her cancer was saying to her…

.

(to be continued…)

A Man in “Jiang Hu”. 人在江湖

There were 3 main elements in the Butterfly & Sword. 流星•蝴蝶•剑 Wuxia story 武侠小说 (see earlier post – 29 Mar). The shooting star 流星 liúxīng represents brilliance, glory but also brevity. The butterfly 蝴蝶 húdié represents beauty, fragility, and romance. The sword 剑 jiàn represents fame, ruthlessness and ambition. Which of the three is temporal? Which of the three is eternal? Maybe, we should instead ask what is beauty? What is brilliance? What is eternity? Is brilliance and eternity the fluttering of the butterfly’s wings? Or the rule of the blood soaked sword?

The comment by reader Choo below explored these themes. The beautiful words are from her, the poor translations are all mine and I took artistic liberty to interpret them the way it appealed to me. Please let us have your comments if you disagree.

江湖恩怨, jiānghú ēnyuàn
政坛风云, zhèngtán fēngyún
The gratitude and enmity of “Jiang Hu”,
Or the turbulence of politics.

是敌或友, shìdí huòyǒu
谁是谁非, shuíshì shuífēi
Whether friends or foes,
Whether right or wrong;

扑朔迷离, pūshuò-mílí
像雾里看花, xiàng wùlǐ kànhuā
难分虚实. nánfēn xūshí
Are all complicated and confusing,
Like looking at flowers through the fog,
Impossible to distinguish with certainty.

剑虽无情, jiànsuī wúqíng
却光芒永恒. què guāngmáng yǒnghéng
Though the sword is heartless,
Is the glory forever?

但江湖儿女私情, dànjiānghú ér-nǚ sīqíng
更为万人所道, gèngwéi wànrén suǒdào
Or will it be the romance
That will be recalled

叫人回肠荡气. jiàorén huícháng dàngqì
And which touches the soul?

Whether in the world of Jiang Hu or in this very real world we lived in, very often we are not in control of the situation we found ourselves in. (Hence, the proverb 人在江湖, 身不由己rénzàijiānghú, shēnbùyóujǐ which was a title of another of 古龙 Gulong’s martial arts novel). But it is how we response to the world we lived in that determines who we are. What will be that wish we will make at the sighting of the falling star?

Emotional Utopia 寻找情绪的桃花源

I was intrigued by the newspaper article about 5 speakers from Taiwan coming to give a talk on the subject of emotion 情绪 qíng xù. Their title was 寻找情绪的桃花源 xúnzhǎo qíngxù de táohuāyuán loosely translated as “Seeking our emotional paradise” So I gathered it is about how to control our emotions to create the harmony found in 桃花源 the land of the Peach Blossom (see last post). So on the 8 March, we went for the free introduction to the seminar.

I was surprised that the talk was held in a beautiful old bungalow at a secluded corner of an older section of PJ. We sat on the wooden floor facing a large bowl of pink frangipani freshly plucked from the large tree in the garden. We waited in anticipation, in a tastefully decorated, brightly lighted and well equipped hall.

A cheerful, “short, well-rounded” (in her own words) middle-age lady took the mike and soon arrested the attention of the fifty or so of us seated on the wooden floor. Her name is 普悦 pǔyuè, the founder of Reset Garden 綠色生活 lǜsè shēnghuó (literal: Green Living), She spoke of how emotion can be a wild tornado that swept everything off its path or the calm in the storm lashing all round us. Her enthusiasm and booming laughter were infectious as she made jokes on herself. Then her voice cracked as she spoke of personal feelings, how she was a tempestuous mother and driven wife. All because she let 情绪 emotion ruled her. Do we want to tame the beast? She asked. The crowd was convinced.

Then, she dropped a bomb shell that she has 癌症 áizhèng (cancer). It was deeply shocking for the woman in front of me is so full of life. What this amazing woman said next stayed with me – “I started to really live only when I found I’ve cancer. It taught me to step back, reflect, and value life. It asked me if the life I was living was really the life I wanted. I’m grateful for what it taught me”.

Thankful for having cancer? On my long drive back, my mind were digesting her words mixed with this thought – 江山易改, 本性难移, jiāngshānyìgǎi, běnxìngnányí (it is easy to change rivers and hills but not man’s character). Still, if there is a compelling reason, man can have a paradigm shift. I signed up for the seminar 寻找情绪的桃花源 and hope it can teach me how to make emotion 情绪 an ally in life…

.

Heaven on Earth 桃花源

Let us leave the Three Kingdoms to go to a land of eternal happiness – Peach Blossom Spring 桃花源 táo huā yuán. During the reign of Emperor XiaoWu of the Eastern Jin Dynasty (376－396), a fisherman following a stream suddenly came across a grove full of blossoming peach trees with lovely petals sweeping down, carpeting the ground. At the stream’s source through an opening in the hill, he came across a fertile plain with mulberry trees, serene ponds and swaying bamboos gracing the land.

There were well kept houses and men and women working in the field. Everyone whether young or old all seemed to be contented and happy. They were amazed to see the fisherman and treated him well. After several days of great hospitality, the fisherman bade them farewell and they told him “it is not worth telling people on the outside about us.” As he retraced his route, he left markers to find his way back. But he and others could never find that place again.

Shangri-la 香格里拉 xiāng gé lǐ lā is the Western equivalent of 桃花源. Both these names have become synonymous with our search for our 人间乐园 rénjiān lèyuán, our paradise on Earth. But where should we begin to start searching…? Or is it like the Tibetan said, “Happiness can be found in a cup of yak butter tea”. In the next post, I will tell you where my search led me…

(Meanwhile, this weekend I’m going to a retreat to do “unconscious dancing” 无意识舞蹈 wúyìshí wǔdǎo, for a few days. Stayed tune if you want to know more about it.)

Butterfly & Sword. 流星•蝴蝶•剑

.

Something happened yesterday (Sunday) that made me wrote this instead of what I had intended. It had to do with the messy election of the Malaysian Chinese political party where the choices should have been who you wanted to vote out rather than in. The politicians involved were like the characters portrayed in 流星•蝴蝶•剑 liúxīng húdié jiàn (Shooting Star, Butterfly and Sword), a 1973 武侠小说 wǔxiá xiǎoshuō Wuxia or martial arts novel by Gu Long 古龙 gǔlóng, one of the two arguably most influential Wuxia novelists. Even the intrigues and betrayals of this complicated story pales in comparison with the actual events. What made it even more interesting was that after being betrayed by his trusted man and long-time friend (as also happened in the story), the politician affected quoted this very book.

This novel was made into a movie in 1976 with the unfortunate English title of “The Killer Clans”. It started my love for the world of Jianghu 江湖 jiānghú. (An imaginary Chinese martial arts world that intersects the real one. Literally, the term means rivers and lakes; real yet not solid like the ground you stood on. And on a misty morning, you are never really sure that the waters are real or just a figment of your imagination even though you have sailed it the night before.) It was remade in 1993 as “Butterfly & Sword” starring Michelle Yeoh but that adaptation was rubbish.

In the original movie, the leader of the 龙门 lóngmén Dragon Gate Society was forced to trust the assassin who was sent to kill him and when he was asked why, he gave this poignant reply “You are the only one whom I can trust for I know your true intention. You were sent to kill me.” Incidentaly, the politician concerned did not survive the election (but his ex-man did) but if I could vote, he would the last I voted out for he at least (too late) has the wisdom to see that the sword has no feeling.

This is the introduction to the tale of 流星•蝴蝶•剑 (truncated with apology).

流星的光芒虽短促,但天上还有什么星能比它更灿烂,辉煌
蝴蝶的生命比鲜艳的花还脆弱。它的生命虽短促却芬芳。

只有剑,才比较接近永恒。
一个剑客的光芒与生命,往往就在他手里握着的剑上,
但剑若也有情,它的光芒是否也就会变得和流星一样短促。

"The shooting star is brilliant although short-lived, but which star in the sky is more glorious.
The butterfly is more fragile than even the colorful flowers. Its life is short but beautiful.

Only the sword is more enduring.
The life and brilliance of the swordsman is that sword he held in his hand.
But should the sword have feeling, will its brilliance be as short as the shooting star?"

It is a pity that the characters in the tale and the politicians never realize that even if their swords are heartless, their glory will still be as brief as that flash of light, and less bright.

For Five Bushels of Grain 为五斗米折腰

“For five bushels of grain 为五斗米折腰 wèi wǔ dǒu mǐ zhéyāo, I bow like a servant.” This was the lament of Tao Qian (365 or 372-427) 陶潜 táo qián also known as Tao Yuanming 陶渊明 táo yuān míng, one of the most influential pre-Tang poets. 五斗米 refers to the miserly salary of a low ranking officer. Today, the proverb is taken to mean "swallowing one's pride in exchange for a meager existence".

Weary of the formal and corrupted life in court, he retired at the young age of 40 and celebrated his freedom with the poem “Returning to My Garden” 归园田居 guī yuán tián jū. The last two lines of that poem was –

久在樊笼里 jiǔ zài fánlóng lǐ
复得返自然 fù de fǎn zìrán
Long have I been in a cage
I return to my natural self.

He lived out the remaining 22 years of his life in peaceful retirement despite many attempts to lure him back. He devoted himself to be a gentleman farmer and a poet of nature. His poetry only came to be appreciated for its simple beauty during the Tang and Song Dynasties. He is a man worthy of respect. Wish I could emulate him.

Even Du Fu 杜甫 dùfǔ had this to say of him:

Only by wine one's heart is lit,
Only a poem calms a soul that's torn.
You'd understand me, Tao Qian.
I wish a little sooner I was born!

He is also the author depicting the mysterious and intriguing world in Peach Blossom Spring 桃花源 táo huā yuán to be found in the next post...

Three Smelly Tanners 三个臭皮匠

The other famous saying from the Three Kingdoms should of course belong to none other than Zhuge Liang (please refer to earlier post). But somehow I never quite like this proverb because of my high regards for Zhuge Liang and because I do not think the analogy is that good.

三个臭皮匠, 胜过一个诸葛亮 sāngè chòu píjiang, shèngguo yīgè Zhūgě Liàng –“ three smelly tanners, surpass one Zhuge Liang”. 皮匠 píjiang is both interpreted as cobbler or tanner. My personal take on this is tanner because of the word 臭 chòu (smelly). Tanners definitely smell worse than cobblers. And I am not joking about this either. The profession of tanner is also held in lower regards being involved in a dirty, smelly job involving carcasses.

The reason I do not like this proverb is that while three tanners may overpower Zhuge Liang by brute force, a thousand tanners will not match him in wit. Anyway the usage has evolved to mean “two heads are better than one”. It is also use to mean that the wisdom of the masses exceeds that of the wisest individual. In the time of dynasties, nobody really cares for the masses so I wonder when this meaning crept in. It did remind me of a recent book “The wisdom of crowds: why the many are smarter than the few and how ... By James Surowiecki” Maybe, he knows this Chinese proverb…

Speaking of the Devil 说曹操曹操就到

Cao Cao 曹操 Cáo Cāo (155-220), the chancellor of Eastern Han is another central figure in the story of the Three Kingdom. He was often portrayed as deceitful and ruthless. A critic by the name of XuShao 许劭 [xǔ shào] living during that period was famed for his ability to assess a person’s potential and talents. Cao Cao visited him but XuShao initially refused to say anything because he despised Cao Cao. However upon persistent questioning he said 治世能臣, 乱世奸雄 [zhì shì néng chén, luàn shì jiān xióng ]; “in time of peace a capable minister, in troubled time an ambitious scoundrel”. Cao Cao laughed and as was his nature, took it as a compliment.

Because 奸 [jiān] means treacherous and evil while 雄 [xióng] means powerful and associated with hero as in 英雄 yīngxióng (hero), there are several interpretations to 奸雄 jiān xióng. XuShao's choice of words may also be deliberate, Cao Cao was too powerful to offend yet he did not want to tell a lie, hence the ambiguity. A hero or a scoundrel? That is up to you. The partly fictional Romance of the Three Kingdom tends to portray him as the villain but historical facts tends to view him more kindly.

说曹操曹操就到 [shuō Cáo Cāo Cáo Cāo jiù dào] – “Speak of Cao Cao and he appears” is probably the most famous phrase to come out from the Romance of the Three Kingdom. The English equivalent is “Speak of the devil”. This phrase is still in common usage today.

When Emperor Han Xian 汉献帝 (Hàn Xiàndì) was attacked, someone recommended that he sought Cao Cao’s help. He agreed and ordered a message to be sent. But before it was delivered, Cao Cao arrived to save the king. Henceforth, the proverb became widespread.

Did you know that this ruthless general is also an accomplished poet? In future posts, I will share with you some of his poems…

Smelling with the Ear. 闻

Wanderlust in her comment said that another Chinese character for smell is 闻 'wen' which consist of an 耳 (ěr) 'ear' inside a door 门 mén. How confusing she said, do the Chinese smell with their ear?

Ah, but she forgets that another meaning of 闻 'wen' is hear as in 新闻 (xīnwén) which is a combination of two characters 新 xīn (new) + 闻 wén hear = “new things you hear” hence “news”. This is a compound word and the majority of Chinese vocabulary are made up of them. So 闻 wén is an 耳 (ěr) 'ear' listening at the door 门 mén (which also serves as the phonetic) making it a logical explanation for hear. But I am sorry I do not have an explanation as to why it is also used to mean smell as well. Looks like the Chinese can both smell and hear with the same word.

As in English, not everything about the language is logical. There are many instances which defy logic and make learning frustrating. You will just have to use your imagination. Or some logic may have just being lost through time. But this is not a scientific language so we should not expect everything to be in perfect order. I’ll leave you with this idiom about hearing - 百闻不如一见 bǎiwén bùrú yījiàn A hundred hearings are inferior to one look.

Zhu-ge Liang’s Advice Fell on Deaf Ears. 出师表

As we flew over the South China Sea, we talked about the famous strategist of the “Romance of the Three Kingdom” 三国演义 [Sānguó yǎnyì] fame – Zhuge Liang 诸葛亮 [Zhūgě Liàng], the chancellor of the state of Shu 蜀 [shǔ]. Before he left for the Northern expedition in 227 against the state of Wei 魏 [Wèi], he wrote a famous memorial advising his emperor, the incompetent Liu Shan 刘禅 [Liúshàn] (207 – 271) of the art of proper governance. The state of 吴 [Wú] makes up the three kingdoms.

He advised his emperor not to lose himself in the pursuit of mean things, to enforce a just law that rewards the good and punish the evil; and to avoid sycophants. This advice is still valid almost two thousand years later for every power on Earth. He gave his reason for his military expedition which is why it is called 出师表 [chūshībiǎo] “Memorial on the eve of Departure”. I like this translation better as it is more poetic than the more accurate “Military Expedition Memorial” for 出师 means sending out an army. 师 by itself is more commonly used to mean teacher or master.

He exhorted his emperor to continue the unfinished work of his late father Liu Bei 刘备[Liú Bèi] (161-223 A.D.) to further the glory of the Kingdom of Shu. He should have saved his breath for his good advice fell on deaf ear. Zhuge Liang died of illness seven years later in 234 after the series of indecisive Northern campaigns. The state of Shu fell to Wei just two years later in 236 after his death.

As wise as Zhuge Liang was, he let emotion (loyalty) interfered with his judgment. For he himself did not heed Liu Bei’s words at his deathbed – “If he (Liu Shan) does not have the necessary qualities to be an emperor, you mustn’t make him the emperor of Shu in Chengdu.” It is for this reason that the childhood name of Liu Shan, "A Dou" (阿斗) is taken to mean an incompetent weakling.

In the next posts, I’ll share two of the most popular sayings to come out from the story of the three kingdom…

Warning the Crocodile. 祭鳄鱼文

My boss continued with the story of how Hán Yù 韩愈 (768-824) n. a leading Tang statesman, philosopher and poet warned the crocodile in a declaration named 祭鳄鱼文 [jì è yú wén] literally translated as “Sacrifice the Crocodile” when he became the governor of ChaoZhou. At that time, crocodiles were infesting the water of the Han river and were responsible for the deaths of many domesticated animals and even human.

That is intolerable, Han Yu decided. But before he attempted to get rid of them, he first sacrificed a goat and a pig to the crocodiles and wrote an essay to them. It went something like this – “This river belongs to my emperor and you are trespassing. I’m giving you 3 days to move out peacefully. If 3 days is not enough, I’ll make it 5. But if you are still not out by 7, I will take it you have no intention of leaving so I will declare war on you! And I will shoot with poisoned arrows till all of you perish. Now, don’t you regret then!” Not only are the Chinese language crazy, but they are too! Imagine making a formal declaration of war on crocodiles. No Pearl harbour here, you’ve been warned! But you can’t help admiring them for being so civilized. According to the legend, believe it or not; it was effective for not long after, all the crocodile were gone from Han river.

Before this declaration, Han river was known as "鳄溪" or "恶溪" both pronounced as [èliú]. 鳄 = crocodile and 恶= evil; and both of them are pronounced as è. Same sound for two different meanings but this case the two meanings mean the same for the crocodiles are evil, at least from the inhabitants standpoint. The Chinese are very creative with this type of word play…

Nose is Me. 自是我.

2.30 am this morning (Monday 3 Mar), cruising at 36,000 feet, halfway through my return from Shenzhen to KL, my boss seated next to me said “nose is me”.

“Is it?” I asked. “That is interesting!”

He was referring to the ancient time when the Chinese would point to his nose indicating “this is me.” Thus the Chinese character 自 [zì] is actually a picture of a nose. Since a nose breathe, it also mean” breath” when combined with other character components such as –

自 (zì) 'nose' over 心 (xīn) 'heart' = 息 [xī] breath, or
自 (zì) 'nose' over 犬 (quǎn) 'dog' = 臭 [chòu] stinking.

I don’t think I need to describe to you how a wet dog smells, do I?

But it is not that simple, for it never was. For 臭 can be read as [chòu] bad smell or [xiù] sniff, smell. If "xiu", we can used our nose to smell both the wet dog or the sweet fragrance of the wild rose. Did I lose you there? No surprise. Welcome to a language devised by the devil to torment us, English speakers. I could ignore it if only it were not so beautiful...