Homophones - More Confusing Than Ideographs Or Tones

As I start each new lesson in Duolingo, I realise what is most confusing and difficult about learning Mandarin.

It's not the number of ideographs. There may be two thousand of them, and they may be hard to write, but they're an order of magnitude easier to remember. Writing with pīnyīn (romanised spellings) and choosing from the limited set of characters that the computer or smartphone presents to you is eminently doable, even for a beginner.

Tones are admittedly harder for me. The first (high) tone is the easiest for me to recognise and pronounce. I find it hard to tell apart the second (rising) tone from the third (falling-rising). And pronouncing the no-tone version of a syllable is really, really hard. I often end up pronouncing it like the high-tone version. (I'll get there one day though. It's just a matter of time and practice.)

But now, I'm starting to see a far more serious issue than either the number of ideographs or the confusing tones, and this is a problem that is going to get bigger with time.

It's the number of homophones.

More and more of them as time goes on and the lessons progress.

I guess it's a natural corollary of having so few unique syllables (phonemes) in the language. Pretty soon, you'll have to start reusing existing phonemes for new words, and the soil is ripe for sowing confusion.

With each new lesson, I'm now prepared to be confronted with yet another character that is pronounced "shi", "zhi", "li", "wan", "xi", "xiang", "jian" or "qi". Sometimes, the tone is different, but often, the tone is also the same as that of an earlier character with the same pronunciation.

There are in fact three types of homophones that I'm struggling with:

1. Those that have different characters and different tones, but are otherwise pronounced the same way, e.g., 是 shì, 时 shí, and 师 shī.

2. Those that have different characters, but are pronounced in exactly the same way, including tone, e.g., 时 and 识, both pronounced shí.

3. Those that are exactly the same in character and pronunciation, but meaning different things in different contexts, e.g., 只 zhǐ

我 只 有 一只 狗 wǒ zhǐ yǒu yīzhǐ gǒu ("I only have one dog"). Here, the first 只 zhǐ means "only", and the second one in 一只 yīzhǐ is a "measure word" that is used to count animals. Two completely different contexts.

When a sentence with homophones is spoken fast, it can be really hard to parse.

Just for fun, I made up these sentences with homophones.

1. 我 吃完 一碗 晚饭 wǒ chīwán yīwǎn wǎnfàn ("I finished eating a bowl of dinner"). Here, the first 完 wán is an "aspect particle" that means "finished", the second one in 一碗 yīwǎn is a "measure word" that means "a bowl of", and the third one is part of 晚饭 wǎnfàn ("dinner", literally "late rice").

2. 这只 狗 只 喝 果汁 zhèzhǐ gǒu zhǐ hē guǒzhī ("This dog only drinks fruit juice"). Here, the first 只 zhǐ in 这只 zhèzhǐ ("this") is a "measure word" for animals, the second 只 zhǐ is exactly the same character but means "only" when used in this context, and the third 汁 zhī means "juice".

3. 意大利 的 李子 里 没有 力 yìdàlì de lǐzǐ lǐ méiyǒu lì ("There is no strength in Italian plums"). Here, the first 利 lì means nothing by itself, and is just meant to help spell out the word "yidali" or "Italy", the second 李 lǐ is part of the word 李子 lǐzǐ ("plum"), the third 里 lǐ means "in", and the fourth 力 lì means "strength" or "power".

[I must say the Japanese have a much better system to deal with foreign words like "Italy". Instead of roping in ideographic characters to do some meaningless (and confusing) double-duty, they have an entire parallel script called Katakana that instantly tells the reader that they are reading a foreign word.]

So as you can see, homophones are my biggest bugbear at the moment, and I wonder how I'm going to deal with the ever-growing list of homophones I will encounter as I progress through my lessons.

Still, I tell myself that 1.4 billion people are able to hold meaningful conversations without effort, so there has to be light at the end of this tunnel too.

The Simplicity Of Chinese Grammar - 5 (Chinese Is Like Indian English Only!)

I had previously read with amusement that one of the ways to deflect a compliment in Mandarin is to say 哪里, 哪里? nǎlǐ, nǎlǐ (literally "Where, where?").

Indians tend to use "where" to deflect compliments too.

A: Your house is looking so neat!
B: Where? It's all such a mess!

I had to laugh again today when Duolingo's latest lesson talked about the peculiar use of the word 才 cái ("only") in Chinese grammar.

We are all like this only!

This was Duolingo's explanation, almost apologetic in tone:

"To say that something happened later than expected, say 才 cái (only) after the time and before the verb. Even though in English we might say that we didn’t do something until a certain time, you would never use 才 in a negative sentence in Chinese."

On looking at the examples though, I was struck by how similar the structures were to "Indian English".

Check out these examples, paying attention to the literal translations. It is possible to translate these sentences into standard English using the word "only", but the "only" is placed just before the verb to qualify it, and not immediately after the time. In the Indian version of English, the word "only" is placed immediately after the time, just as in Chinese.

1. 我 昨天 晚上 十一 点 才 下班 wǒ zuótiān wǎnshàng shíyī diǎn cái xiàbān ("I didn’t get off work until 11 o'clock last night", or "I only got off work at 11 o'clock last night", literally, "I yesterday evening 11 o'clock only left work")

2. 她 今天 早上 两 点 才 回家 tā jīntiān zǎoshang liǎng diǎn cái huí jiā ("She didn’t come home until 2 o'clock this morning", or "She only came home at 2 o'clock this morning", literally, "She today morning 2 o'clock only came home")

3. 我们 下午 四 点 才 吃 午饭 wǒmen xiàwǔ sì diǎn cái chī wǔfàn. ("We didn’t eat lunch until 4 o'clock in the afternoon", or "We only ate lunch at 4 o'clock in the afternoon", literally, "We afternoon 4 o'clock only ate lunch")

The literal translations are very similar to how Indians express things colloquially in English, i.e., by placing the word "only" right after the time. The Hindi ही ("hii") is used in this way, as is the Tamil தான் ("taan"/"daan"), and Indian English just reflects the structure of Indian languages.

1. "I left office yesterday night at 11 o'clock only."

2. "She came home today morning at 2 o'clock only." Hindi: वह आज सुबह 2 बजे ही घर लौट आई woh aaj subah 2 baje hii ghar lauT aayi

3. "We ate lunch at afternoon 4 o'clock only." Tamil: நாங்கள் மத்தியானம் 4 மணிக்கு தான் சாப்பிட்டோம் naangaL mathiyaanam 4 maNikku taan caapiTTOm

Using the word "only" for emphasis comes naturally to Indians, even if it isn't quite the Queen's English. I was glad to be able to dip into a bit of my cultural "heritage" to better internalise this aspect of Chinese grammar.

To an Indian, sentence construction in Chinese is quite natural only.

The Delightful Etymology Of Chinese Words

A now-frequent experience of mine, when encountering a new word in Mandarin, is initial puzzlement, then an "Oh, ha-ha-ha!" reaction as I understand the root of the word.

All languages face the naming problem. When its speakers come across a new concept, how do they create a word to name it?

The standard way is to make a descriptive compound word using existing terms, such as the English "electronic mail" to describe the new way of sending mail electronically. [Over time, such words sometimes get shortened (as in "e-mail" and then "email"), and then finally, the new concept simply takes over the old word (e.g., "mail") and forces the old concept to find itself a new term (e.g., "snail mail").]

Compound words made from simpler earlier terms often sound primitive and unsophisticated. The English language has found a way around that, which is to use simpler terms from Latin or Greek instead, so that the new compound word actually appears sophisticated rather than primitive! E.g. "hippopotamus" ("river horse" in Greek), "omnipotent" ("all powerful" in Latin), "television" ("far" in Greek, "to see" in Latin).

The English language also steals words wholesale from other languages, including from Chinese (Cantonese more often than Mandarin).

These English words and phrases are straight lifts from Chinese dialects: gung ho, kaolin, ketchup, kowtow, lychee, pidgin, tycoon, and typhoon.

These English phrases are literal translations of Chinese expressions: brainwash, long time no see, no can do, and paper tiger.

English is an exception in not having too much of a cultural ego about accepting foreign words into itself. Many cultures prefer their own words to imports - in the name of national pride, even if the resulting compound words end up sounding a bit "primitive".

Otto von Bismarck, without doubt one of the earliest personalities with a fierce pride in German cultural identity, is believed to have proposed the authentically German "Gesundheitswiederherstellungsmittelzusammenmischungsüberhaltniskündiger" (loosely, "health restorative medium compounding specialist") as an alternative to "apothecary" or "chemist".

In India too, there are jocular references to trains as "lOhpathgaamini" (literally, "she who goes on an iron road"). A friend of mine from Kerala told me about the Sanskrit-based Malayalam word for a switch - "vidyut-gaman-aagamana-niyantraNa-yantram" (literally "electricity coming-going control device"). Not all examples from India are jokes, though. Official Hindi language communication from government sources, as opposed to the everyday Hindi spoken on the streets, is often comically unintelligible even to those with a passable knowledge of Hindi.

Chinese dialects have an inherent advantage when building up compound words. Since most simple words are monosyllabic, compound words are at most two or three syllables long, to the envy of Bismarck and assorted Sanskrit scholars.

Here's a bunch of such words that I've come across so far:

1. 有名 yǒumíng ("famous", literally "have name")

2. 要件 yàojiàn ("essentials", literally "want(ed) pieces")

3. 解释 jiěshì ("explain", literally "solution release")

4. 重要 zhòngyào ("important", literally "heavy want")

5. 有钱 yǒuqián ("rich", literally "have money")

6. 上网 shàngwǎng ("online", literally "on net")

7. 非常 fēicháng ("very", "exceptionally", literally "no often")

8. 糖尿病 tángniàobìng ("diabetes", literally "sugar urine sickness")

9. 火车 huǒchē ("train", literally "fire vehicle")

10. 自行车 zìxíngchē ("bicycle", literally "self-propelled vehicle")

11. 子宫 zǐgōng ("uterus", literally "child palace")

12. 担心 dānxīn ("worry", literally "burden heart")

13. 难以置信 nányǐ zhìxìn ("incredible", literally "difficult to put faith")

14. 该死的 gāisǐ de ("damn it!", literally "should die of")

15. 小狗 xiǎogǒu ("puppy", literally "little dog")

16. 马上 mǎshàng ("immediately", literally "horse on", or "on a horse")

17. 洗手间 xǐshǒujiān ("toilet", literally "wash hand room")

18. 手机 shǒujī ("mobile phone", literally "hand device")

19. 发烧 fāshāo ("fever", literally "emit burn")

20. 冰箱 bīngxiāng ("refrigerator", literally "ice box")

21. 加油 jiāyóu ("Come on!", literally "add oil/fuel")

22. 不要脸 bùyào liǎn ("shameless", literally "not want face")

23. 离婚 líhūn ("divorce", literally "leave marriage")

24. 动物 dòngwù ("animal", literally "moving object")

25. 兄弟姐妹 xiōngdì jiěmèi ("siblings", literally "older brother, younger brother, older sister, younger sister")

26. 音乐 yīnyuè ("music", literally "sound happy")

27. 短信 duǎnxìn ("text message", literally "short letter")

28. 面试 miànshì ("interview", literally "face test")

29. 充电 chōngdiàn ("charge", literally "fill electricity")

30. 充值 chōngzhí ("top up", literally "fill value")

31. 爱国 àiguó ("patriotic", literally "love country")

32. 信用卡 xìnyòngkǎ ("credit card", literally "faith/trust use card")

33. 救命 jiùmìng ("help!", literally "save life")

34. 观光 guānguāng ("go sightseeing", literally "look at lights")

35.地势 dìshì ("terrain" or "topography", literally "land level")

36.维他命 wéi tā mìng ("vitamin", literally "preserve his life". Both sound and meaning match!)

37.霸凌 bàlíng ("bullying", from 霸道凌辱 bàdào língrù "overbearing humiliation". Both sound and meaning match!)

38.多邻国 duō lín guó ("Duolingo", literally "Many neighbouring countries". So apt for a language learning app!)

39.太空 tài kōng ("space", literally "too vacant/empty", or "extreme emptiness".)

40.英雄 yīngxióng ("hero", literally "English male". This surprised me at first, then I learnt that 英 yīng (courageous) was chosen as the phonetically closest syllable to "Eng" in 英国 yīngguó ("England"). So it's actually the other way around. 英雄 yīngxióng means "courageous male" or "hero", and the association with England came later.)

41.少年 shàonián ("teenager"/"youth", literally "few/less year".)

42.抹黑 mǒhēi ("shame, smear", literally "apply black".)

43.对手 duìshǒu ("opponent", literally "opposing hand".)

44.互惠 hùhuì ("reciprocity", literally "mutual benefit". Note that the character for 互 hù "mutual" is aptly drawn as an ambigram, i.e., it can be turned upside-down and still look the same!)

45.情结 qíngjié ("complex" (psychological), literally "feeling knot". E.g., China views India as having a 大国情结 dàguó qíngjié ("big country complex"))

46.金星 jīnxīng ("Venus", literally "gold star")

47.奖金 jiǎngjīn ("bonus", literally "prize gold")

48.烤串 kǎo chuàn ("kebab", literally "roast strung together". Note how the character 串 chuàn which means "string together" is a visual representation of the idea)

And then there's a separate category altogether for all the electrical gadgets that get renamed from pre-existing concepts.

1. 电话 diànhuà ("telephone", literally "electric talk")

2. 电脑 diànnǎo ("computer", literally "electric brain")

3. 电影 diànyǐng ("movie", literally "electric picture")

4. 电视 diànshì ("TV", literally "electric see")

5. 电梯 diàntī ("elevator", literally "electric ladder")

6. 电报 diànbào ("telegram", literally "electric report")

7. 电子邮件 diànzǐ yóujiàn ("email", literally "electronic mail")

"Separable Verbs" In Chinese

In my last lesson, Duolingo introduced me to the concept of "separable verbs", some of which seemed to correspond to gerunds in English. (A gerund is a verb that is used as a noun, such as the word "swimming" in "Swimming is a good exercise".)

[Aside:

I first came across the concept of separable verbs when learning German, and it was weird as hell.

As Sherlock Holmes said in "A Scandal in Bohemia", the German is very uncourteous to his verbs.

E.g., the verb "stehen" means "to stand", and the verb "aufstehen" means "to stand up".

However, to say "I stand up" you cannot simply say "ich aufstehe". You have to say "ich stehe auf".

The two parts of the verb need to be separated.

Similarly, "fahren" means "to travel", and "losfahren" means "to take off".

Wir fahren in zwei Minuten los. ("We're going to take off in two minutes.")

Wir sind schon losgefahren. ("We've already taken off.")

The parts "auf" and "stehen" in the verb "aufstehen" are separable, as are the parts "los" and "fahren" in "losfahren".

End Aside.]

After looking more closely into it, I realised that what Duolingo refers to as "separable verbs" in Chinese is just a misnomer. It's nothing at all like the separable verbs in German. It's just that some verbs in Chinese are loosely translated into English as intransitive verbs in certain contexts, but the literal equivalent actually holds a transitive verb and its object together in one word. It's not a single verb with two separable parts. It's a verb+object pair. In more complex sentences, we're required to separate the two parts, which could come as a surprise if we've been looking at the compound word as an intransitive verb. That's all there is to it.

Check out these examples:

1. 去 游泳 qù yóuyǒng (loosely translated as "go swimming"): Here, 游泳 yóuyǒng ("swimming") may appear like an intransitive verb, but it's not. It literally means "to swim (a) swim".

2. 去 跑步 qù pǎobù (loosely translated as "go running"): Here, 跑步 pǎobù ("running") may appear like an intransitive verb, but it literally means "to run steps".

3. 去 骑马 qù qímǎ (loosely translated as "go horseriding"): Again, 骑马 qímǎ literally means "to ride (a) horse".

The verbs for other activities, such as "play soccer" and "play basketball", quite clearly indicate even in their loose translations that they're made up of a transitive verb and an object, so you wouldn't be taken by surprise when they get separated in certain constructions. Still, it's worth understanding that the literal equivalents of these phrases mean something slightly different.

4. 踢 足球 tī zúqiú ("play soccer"): [This actually translates literally to "kick foot ball", because that's exactly what the three characters mean.]

5. 打 篮球 dǎ lánqiú ("play basketball"): [This translates literally to "hit basket ball".]

See how the verbs that look like a single word get separated.

1a. 我 游泳 wǒ yóuyǒng ("I swim", literally "I swim (a) swim"). Here, the transitive verb 游 yóu and its object 泳 yǒng stick together as if they're one word, and could be mistaken for an intransitive verb.

1b. 我 昨天 下午 游了 一个 小时 的 泳 wǒ zuótiān xiàwǔ yóule yīgè xiǎoshí de yǒng ("I swam for an hour yesterday afternoon", literally "I yesterday afternoon swam one hour's swim"). Here, the transitive verb and its object get separated, which would come as a surprise if you got used to thinking of 游泳 yóuyǒng as a single word.

Another example is running, where you don't just "run" (intransitive verb), but "run steps" (transitive verb + object).

2a. 昨天 我 去了 跑步 zuótiān wǒ qùle pǎobù ("I went for a run yesterday", literally "Yesterday I went (to) run steps". Again, the transitive verb 跑 pǎo and its object 步 bù stick together as if they're one word, an intransitive verb.

2b. 早上 我 跑了 三十分钟 的 步 zǎoshang wǒ pǎole sānshí fēnzhōng de bù ("I ran for 30 minutes this morning", literally "Morning I ran thirty minutes' steps"). Now they get separated.

A third example is horseriding, where you "ride (a) horse" (transitive verb + object).

3a. 我 妈妈 很 喜欢 骑马 wǒ māmā hěn xǐhuān qímǎ ("My mother likes horseriding", literally "My mother likes (to) ride horses")

3b. 我 妈妈 昨天 骑了 一个 小时 的 马 wǒ māmā zuótiān qíle yīgè xiǎoshí de mǎ ("My mother rode a horse for an hour yesterday", literally "My mother yesterday rode one hour's horse")

[Aside:

Note a couple of unrelated aspects to the last sentence:

1. If you look closely, you will see that the word 骑 qí ("ride") itself contains the ideograph of 马 mǎ ("horse") as the leftmost glyph within it.

2. This sentence has two words that sound similar except for tone, and are written somewhat similarly. The character 妈 mā in "mother" has the glyph 女 nǚ for "woman" inside it, along with the glyph 马 that hints at its pronunciation (i.e., some variation of "ma").

妈 mā ("mother") and 马 mǎ ("horse") are so confusingly similar in the way they're written, and their pronunciation only differs in tone, yet they're so very different in what they mean! Get the tone wrong, and your prospective mother-in-law could clip you on the ear with her handbag.

To complicate things further, you could add the no-tone question particle 吗 ma to the mix, as in:

你 妈妈 喜欢 骑马 吗？nǐ māmā xǐhuān qímǎ ma? ("Does your mother like riding horses?")

End Aside.]

OK, so what Duolingo called "separable verbs" aren't that at all. They're verb+object pairs that go together in certain contexts and may be loosely translated into English as a single intransitive verb, and so having to separate them in certain situations is quite understandable and shouldn't be confusing at all.

However, there is another complication that I saw about these verb+object pairs. Certain sentences require them to be separated in a rather strange way. The transitive verb gets repeated after the compound verb in certain cases. Take a look.

1c. 我 游泳 游 得 不错 wǒ yóuyǒng yóu dé bùcuò ("I swim well", literally "I swim (a) swim swim (adverb) not bad")

2c. 他 跑步 跑 得 很 快 tā pǎobù pǎo dé hěn kuài ("He runs fast", literally "He runs (a) step runs (adverb) very fast")

3c. 我 妈妈 骑马 骑 得 很好 wǒ māmā qímǎ qí dé hěn hǎo (My mother rides horses very well", literally "My mother rides horse rides (adverb) very well"

4c. 我 的 哥哥 打 篮球 打 得 不错 wǒ de gēgē dǎ lánqiú dǎ dé bùcuò ("My older brother plays basketball well", literally "My brother hits basket ball hits (adverb) not bad")

5c. 谁 踢 足球 踢 得 最 好？ shéi tī zúqiú tī dé zuì hǎo? ("Who plays soccer best?", literally "Who kicks foot ball kicks (adverb) most good?")

At the moment, this last structure is confusing me a fair bit. I need a bit more experience here before I wrap my head around when and how this is used.

Update 22/08/2021: As Duolingo's lessons progress, I see many more such examples of these so-called separable verbs, and I'm now able to construct more complex sentences by splitting them correctly.

Check these out. (BTW, I made up these sentences myself and verified them through Google Translate.)

6. 打扮 dǎbàn loosely means "to dress up", which sounds like an intransitive verb. But it translates literally to "hit pretend", a combination of a transitive verb and an object. (It also suggests what Chinese culture thinks of the practice of dressing up!)

6a. 他 请了 我 他 的 派对。我 需要 打扮。tā qǐngle wǒ tā de pàiduì. wǒ xūyào dǎbàn. ("He invited me to his party. I need to dress up.", literally "I need to hit pretend.")

6b. 我 会 打 下午 扮 wǒ huì dǎ xiàwǔ bàn. ("I will dress up in the afternoon", literally "I will hit afternoon pretend")

7. 感冒 gǎnmào is loosely translated to "cold", as in the illness. But the literal translation is "sense risk", which doesn't seem to make much sense, unless catching a cold is a way of sensing risk (of pneumonia?).

7a. 我 感冒 了。wǒ gǎnmào le. ("I have a cold", literally, "I 'sense-risk'-ed")

7b. 昨天 我 感 了 冒。zuótiān wǒ gǎnle mào. ("I caught a cold yesterday", literally, "Yesterday, I sense-d risk")

8. 休息 xiūxí is translated as "to rest", another intransitive verb. But it literally means "to rest (one's) breath", i.e., another transitive verb + object.

8a. 我 要 休息。wǒ yào xiūxí. ("I want to rest", literally, "I want to rest breath")

8b. 我 会 休 一个 小时 的 息。Wǒ huì xiū yīgè xiǎoshí de xī. ("I will rest for an hour", literally "I will rest an hour's breath")

And now, the exceptions

Interestingly, it appears some Chinese compound words can't be separated, much like the German "untrennbar" (non-separable) verbs, e.g., entdecken (to discover), verstehen (to understand), zerstören (to destroy).

9. When I came across the word 发烧 fāshāo ("to have a fever"), and realised that the literal translation was "to emit burn", I thought I could separate this into two words like I did the others. But Google Translate slapped me down.

9a. 我 发烧 wǒ fāshāo ("I have a fever", literally "I emit burn")

9b. 我 发 从 昨天 晚上 烧 wǒ fā cóng zuótiān wǎnshàng shāo (This sentence construction is wrong! It translates to "I have burned from last night", which isn't what I was trying to express.)

9c. 我 从 昨天 晚上 发烧 wǒ cóng zuótiān wǎnshàng fāshāo ("I have a fever from last night", literally "I from last evening emit burn") is the correct construction. Note that the compound verb is not to be separated.

Help! I Have A Translator Inside My Head

I was passing by my son's music keyboard today and happened to glance at the sheet of music propped up above it.

A moment after I read it, a voice inside my head said, "我是医生, 医生谁 wǒ shì yīshēng, yīshēng shéi" ("I am (the) Doctor, Doctor Who").

I swear. I think I have someone sitting inside my head commenting on everything.

Mandarin Is An Artificial National Language - But It Isn't The Only One!

The specific version of Chinese that I am learning (i.e., Mandarin) is also called 普通话 pǔtōnghuà ("universal common language"). Readers of this blog may have noticed that I use the general word "Chinese" when referring to elements that may be common to more than one dialect, and the word "Mandarin" when referring to the spoken and written form that I'm currently learning.

Over at The China Story, I read a fascinating article by Gerald Roche on the origins of Mandarin.

An excerpt:

This national language did not exist at the start of the twentieth century. Linguist David Moser has described Putonghua as ‘an artificially constructed hybrid form, a linguistic patchwork of compromises based upon expediency, history, and politics’. Although based in part on the Mandarin of north-eastern China, Putonghua had a total of zero speakers at the start of the previous century. It only came to be spoken by a majority of the Chinese population (53 percent) as recently as 2007. By 2015, this number had been raised to 70 percent, and a target was set to reach 80 percent by 2020.

In other words, the Chinese government created a new language based on elements of those that existed before, standardising and rationalising its elements, and popularising it as the common language for the entire country. Standard Mandarin, more properly called Putonghua, retains the name "Mandarin", but is an artificially developed variant of that earlier dialect.

The rhyming slogan reads:
大家请说普通话，语言文字规范化 dàjiā qǐng shuō pǔtōnghuà, yǔyán wénzì guīfànhuà
"Everyone, please speak Putonghua ("universal common language"). Standardisation of language and speech."

The artificial origins of official Mandarin explain to a great extent why I'm finding the language logical and surprisingly easy to learn. I guess all the confusing quirks and grammatical exceptions that abound in natural languages got weeded out as part of the process. (As a hopeful learner, I'm not complaining!)

It strikes me that countries with multiple languages are inherently hard to govern, and governments tend to fall back upon the formula of a single "national" language to serve as the link between all of their people.

I'm no stranger to this conversation.

The country of my birth (India) has at least 30 official languages recognised by the constitution, and hundreds of dialects. Since independence in 1947, successive Indian governments have tried hard to popularise the notion of a single "national" language (Hindi) to serve as the lingua franca, although this is not official. Officially, Hindi and English are the two "administrative" languages of India, yet there is relentless pressure from the central government and sections of Indian society to make Hindi the country's sole national language.

I find myself in a curious position. As a student of Chinese, it greatly simplifies my life to have to learn a single standardised language with defined pronunciation rules, straightforward grammar, and a simplified script. I also welcome the prospect of this language being spoken and understood by virtually everyone in China, so if I were ever to visit and tour the country, I could be assured of being able to communicate with the local populace no matter where I went. I don't want to have to learn multiple languages to visit a multilingual country. I wouldn't bother to learn even one in such a case!

Yet, as a non-Hindi-speaking Indian, I remember my own, and my family's, resentment at the several ham-handed attempts on the part of successive Indian governments to "impose" Hindi on the entire country. Our sense of identity was viscerally threatened by the prospect of an imposed cultural uniformity. The debate continues back home in India, and I suspect that as the population of the Hindi-speaking states of the North continues to outstrip that of the rest of the country, that simmering debate may one day boil over. Hindi as the de facto national language may one day be a reality, but unless it happens naturally through demographic and economic drivers, the future could be anything but peaceful.

It seems to me that the problem of finding a "national" language for a modern nation-state with multiple cultural "nations" within its political borders is immensely hard. Tempting as it may be to strive for a single national language that displaces all others in importance, the process is fraught with risk. Countries with more than one language that attempted to elevate one above the others often broke up. The Soviet Union and Yugoslavia had respectively favoured Russian and Serbo-Croat over all the others, and the relegation of other languages to a subordinate status seemed to have sharpened, rather than blunted, the sense of subnational identity.

Even the "velvet divorce" of the Czech Republic and the Slovak Republic from what was called Czechoslovakia occurred along linguistic lines.

Canada, Belgium and Spain are all examples of "advanced" countries that nevertheless have restive linguistic minorities.

The Chinese attempt at linguistic engineering has been surprisingly effective, having been sustained over generations. The use of primary education to train successive generations of young Chinese in one standard language seems to have achieved a second Cultural Revolution (thankfully a less cataclysmic one). But the potential for trouble remains, especially with significant linguistic minorities. This Lowy Institute article talks about the resentment felt by speakers of Cantonese.

It struck me that standardised Mandarin (Putonghua) is not the only artificial national language I have come across.

Hindi

This article talks about how Hindi was artifically created, and by a Scotsman of all people!

According to the article, John Borthwick Gilchrist, a self-trained linguist employed by the East India Company, split the commonly spoken language in North India (variously called Hindustani or Khari Boli) into two languages - Urdu with the Persian/Arabic script (Nastaliq) and Hindi with the Sanskrit script (Devanagari). Further, the vocabulary of Hindi was made distinct from that of Urdu by rebasing it on Sanskrit words.

Urdu

Why, Urdu itself is artificial in its own way.

1. Although it arose "naturally", it was the various military campaigns in the Deccan up to the 16th or 17th century that brought together soldiers from various parts of India and the Middle East, and created a hybrid language. The name "Urdu" itself comes from the Turkish word "Ordo" for "army" (the other legacy of which is the English word "horde").

2. When Pakistan was created, its four constituent provinces each had its own language - Punjab (Punjabi), Sindh (Sindhi), Baluchistan (Baluchi) and the Northwest Frontier Province (Pashto). Urdu was not native to the geographical region occupied by the new political nation-state of Pakistan. Rather, it was the native language of the political elite from the northern plains of India, who agitated for and obtained Pakistan. It was this elite that made Urdu the common national language for their new country.

The Wikipedia entry on the origins of Urdu is fascinating.

In the Delhi region of India the native language was Khariboli, whose earliest form is known as Old Hindi. It belongs to the Western Hindi group of the Central Indo-Aryan languages. The contact of the Hindu and Muslim cultures during the period of Islamic conquests and in the Indian subcontinent (12th to 16th centuries) led to the development of Hindustani as a product of a composite Ganga-Jamuni tehzeeb. In cities such as Delhi, the Indian language Old Hindi began to acquire many Persian loanwords and continued to be called "Hindi" and later, also "Hindustani". In southern India (especially in Golkonda and Bijapur), a form of the language flourished in medieval India and is known as Dakhini, which contains loanwords from Telugu and Marathi. An early literary tradition of Hindavi was founded by Amir Khusrau in the late 13th century. From the 13th century until the end of the 18th century the language now known as Urdu was called Hindi, Hindavi, Hindustani, Dehlavi, Lahori, and Lashkari. By the end of the reign of Aurangzeb in the early 18th century, the common language around Delhi began to be referred to as Zaban-e-Urdu, a name derived from the Turkic word ordu (army) or orda and is said to have arisen as the "language of the camp", or "Zaban-i-Ordu" or natively "Lashkari Zaban". The Turko-Afghan Delhi Sultanate established Persian as its official language in India, a policy continued by the Mughal Empire, which extended over most of northern South Asia from the 16th to 18th centuries and cemented Persian influence on Hindustani. The name Urdu was first introduced by the poet Ghulam Hamadani Mushafi around 1780. As a literary language, Urdu took shape in courtly, elite settings. While Urdu retained the grammar and core Indo-Aryan vocabulary of the local Indian dialect Khariboli, it adopted the Nastaleeq writing system – which was developed as a style of Persian calligraphy.

So there you have it. Three large Asian countries with a complex linguistic history (China, India and Pakistan), each trying in its own way and with different levels of success, to forge a common national identity through the use of a common language.

A "Welcome" Reminder Of The 2008 Beijing Olympics

As we approach the end of the 2021 Tokyo Olympics, something just happened to remind me of the 2008 Beijing Olympics. I was practising with Duolingo last night, when it spoke the word 欢迎 huānyíng aloud and challenged me for the meaning.

My son, who was nearby and couldn't help overhearing, said, "Welcome!"

I was astonished. How did he know, when he wasn't even learning Mandarin?

It turned out that during the Beijing Olympics in 2008, his Year 6 class at school had an assignment to make a presentation on the games.

His group focused on the five mascots of the games - Beibei, Jingjing, Huanhuan, Yingying, and Nini.

Repetitive names are meant to be diminutive and "cute", which is why children (and often women) have repeated names. This Quora answer explains it better.

Shorn of the repetition, the five mascots together spell 北京 欢迎 你 běijīng huānyíng nǐ, or "Beijing welcomes you!"

As we have seen earlier, 北京 běijīng means "northern capital", and 你 nǐ means "you".

欢迎 huānyíng was the one unfamiliar term in this sentence, and now, thanks to my son's quick-witted response, I'm never going to be able to forget it.

A word of warning, though. If you don't pronounce the tones correctly, you may be saying something very different.

Active And Passive Voice In Mandarin - Some Initial Thoughts

I understand from my online research that the passive voice isn't very common in Chinese, and when it is used, there are definite constructs available to express it.

This post is to talk about a couple of examples I've come across where the same verb seems to be used in both the active and passive senses.

One of these examples is a word we've seen before, 叫 jiào ("to call"), which seems to be used in exactly the same form, in both the active and passive senses.

1. 请 在 这里 等。我 叫 他. qǐng zài zhèlǐ děng. Wǒ jiào tā. ("Please wait here. I('ll) call him.")

2. 我叫张明 wǒ jiào zhāng míng. ("I'm called Zhang Ming")

The verb is exactly the same (叫 jiào), but in the first sentence, the active voice is implied ("to call"), while in the second, the passive voice is implied ("to be called").

Another example is the word 可爱 kě ài, which means "cute".

If we break the word apart into its constituent characters, we see that 可 kě means "can" and 爱 ài means "love".

But if 可爱 kě ài means "cute", the literal meaning is probably "lovable" or "can be loved", not "can love".

So once again, a verb is used in an implied passive sense without any indication that the voice is passive.

I'm a bit confused, so I'm parking this in my "to revisit later" basket.

Calling People Names - In Different Languages

When I first learnt how to say "What is your name?" in Mandarin, I was misled.

"你 叫 什么？" ("nǐ jiào shénme?") and "你 叫 什么 名字？" ("nǐ jiào shénme míngzì?") are both rendered by Google Translate as "What's your name?", but that's not strictly correct.

你 叫 什么？ nǐ jiào shénme? actually means "What are you called?", literally "You (are) called what?"

And 你 叫 什么 名字？ nǐ jiào shénme míngzì? means "What name are you called?", literally "You (are) called what name?"

Neither of them is literally "What is your name?"

That would be 你 的 名字 是 什么？nǐ de míngzì shì shénme? (Literally, "you's name is what?")

This doesn't seem to be a commonly used form, although Google Translate helpfully renders this too as "What's your name?". I realise now that loose translations don't help when one is trying to understand a language closely.

[叫 jiào means "call". And that's why you can say 叫我 以实玛利 jiào wǒ yǐ shí mǎ lì ("Call me Ishmael").]

This made me think. I know a few languages where this question is literally posed as "What is your name?", and a few others where the standard form is "What are you called?"

The words marked in blue mean "name".

English: What is your name?

Hindi: तुम्हारा नाम क्या है ? tumhaara naam kya hai ? (literally "Your name what is?")

Tamil: உன் பெயர் என்ன? un peyar enna? (literally "Your name what?")

Kannada: ನಿನ್ನ ಹೆಸರು ಏನು ? ninna hesaru Enu? (literally "Your name what?")

Japanese: 名前 は なん です か? namae wa nan' desu ka? (literally "Name what is (question particle)")

[Notice that the ideographs for "name" are similar in Chinese (名字 míngzì) and Japanese (名前 namae), even though the pronunciations are vastly different.

In fact, on examining the Japanese ideograph more closely, it corresponds to 名前 míngqián in Mandarin, and literally means "name before", probably "forename". Of course, that particular word combination doesn't seem to translate to anything meaningful in Chinese, but it's interesting.]

And in these, the words marked in red mean "called":

Mandarin: 你 叫 什么？ nǐ jiào shénme? (literally "You (are) called what?")

German: Wie heißt du? (literally "How called you?")

French: Comment t'appelles tu? (literally "How called you?")

Russian: как тебя зовут? kak tebya zovut? (literally "How you called?")

This is fascinating. It seems possible to classify languages into two groups depending on how a simple introductory question is phrased. Is this a "name" language or a "called" language?

[It reminds me of the way languages are grouped depending on their word for "tea". Does their word begin with the "t" sound or the "ch" sound? Those countries or regions that use the "t" sound for tea first got their tea by the sea route. Those that use the "ch" sound for tea first got it by the land route. English, French, German, and Tamil all use the "t" sound for tea. Russian, Arabic and Hindi use the "ch" sound.]

An Auspicious Portent From My Electric Guru

Ever since I learnt about the Chinese naming of technologies by prefixing them with 电 diàn ("electric"), I have been thinking of Duolingo as my 电老师 diàn lǎoshī ("electric teacher", or "electric guru").

Witness

电脑 diànnǎo ("computer", literally, "electric brain")

电话 diànhuà ("telephone", literally, "electric voice")

电影 diànyǐng ("movie", literally, "electric picture")

电视 diànshì ("TV", literally, "electric see")

电梯 diàntī ("elevator", literally, "electric ladder")

Today, my electric guru prompted me to say something that I've been telling myself as a form of self-hypnosis to make my journey easier.

I feel like I just got blessed with a "विजयी भव!" vijayi bhava! (Sanskrit for "May you be victorious!")

Although I'm not superstitious, I'll take every bit of positive reinforcement I can get.

Understanding A Non-Phonetic Script

I've had a unique experience when practising Mandarin with Duolingo.

Sometimes, when asked to translate a sentence into English, I find I recognise some of the characters and know what they mean, but I've forgotten how they're pronounced!

This leads to a strange situation where I can understand the meaning of a sentence, but it doesn't "play any sounds in my head" as I'm reading it.

On reflection, I realise that this is an unprecedented experience in my life. All the languages I have ever learnt have had phonetic alphabets. I have often had the experience of encountering a new word that I didn't know the meaning of, but could pronounce.

Chinese is the first language where I've had the opposite experience. I'm encountering words that I understand, but can't pronounce.

I've often read that "language shapes thought", and I'm curious to see where this leads me. In what different ways am I going to learn to think, when faced with such situations?

Incidentally, 我明白 wǒ míng bái ("I understand") literally means "I bright white". In other words, a lightbulb just came on in my head. [The word 明 míng ("bright") evokes an image of brightness because it has the ideographs for 日 rì ("sun") and 月 yuè ("moon") within it.]

A lightbulb has really just come on in my head.

Un Mot "De" La Chine (A Word From China)

One of the aspects of Mandarin that struck me as curious was the use of the word 的 ("de") as a possessive.

In French too, the word "de" is used to denote the possessive - but in the opposite direction!

In French, the word "de" means "of".

e.g., L'histoire de France = "the history of France"

In Chinese, the word 的 has exactly the same pronunciation ("de"), but means 's (apostrophe s).

e.g., 毛泽东 的 红皮书 Máo Zédōng de hóngpíshū ("Mao Zedong's Red Book")

An interesting tidbit that doesn't quite qualify as the pièce de résistance but could perhaps elicit a "好的!" Hǎo de! ("All right!")