Should Foreigners Who Marry Chinese Also Learn the Language?

If you’re a foreigner with a Chinese spouse or loved one, should you learn some Chinese? Even just at a conversational level? Do we have an obligation to do so because we’re intimately connected to this country and culture?

This idea came to mind while pondering my own past, and first steps, in China many years ago, a time when I began dating a local Chinese man in Zhengzhou and couldn’t speak a word of Mandarin. He and I eventually broke up after six months, yet during our relationship, his presence in my life served as a spark to prod me into learning (along with other more practical reasons, such as being more independent). Deep down, a part of me felt that because I loved him, I should make an effort to study his language, even if that simply meant mastering the most basic conversational phrases.

Ironically, he didn’t encourage my efforts, suggesting my afternoon tutoring sessions were just a waste of time. Of course, he said this late in our relationship, which means it potentially reflected the growing rift between us, more than his genuine thoughts on the subject. Nevertheless, some people out there would agree with him – and I’ve met some or even heard about them, including those who have lived many years in China and, yes, have Chinese spouses.

Most people who argue against learning Chinese turn to two primary arguments: One, that it’s too difficult, and two, that it’s not necessary anyhow.

We all know Chinese remains notoriously difficult to learn. A few months ago, during a business trip at a conference, Chinese academics from some of the most celebrated institutions in China admitted to me in private conversations just how challenging the country’s official language is. Still, nobody says you need to emerge as the next Da Shan, have absolutely perfect tones, or reach the highest level in the HSK. Merely choosing a more reasonable “conversational” level can make the task more doable and less daunting. (That’s exactly what I did when I began learning Mandarin.)

I found an entire article devoted to why foreigners in China often don’t learn Chinese, and it adds an explanation unique those who speak English: “The main reason why more expats don’t speak much Chinese is this: we don’t need to learn it. China caters to English speakers.” This would fall under the “not necessary” arguments many put forth, including that their job doesn’t require it or the employer provides a translator.

For those of us with a Chinese spouse, our loved ones from China invariably end up helping with all sorts of errands, even if you can speak Chinese. It makes sense for a number of reasons, including the fact that they understand how to conduct business much better than we do because it’s their native country and culture. But of course, this gives the foreigner less motivation to learn – and bolsters the “not necessary” side of the argument.

Still, you could argue there’s a “need” for foreigners with a Chinese spouse. Given we already have an intimate relationship with the country, we’re going to encounter the language for the rest of our lives through family. When you can’t communicate with your spouse’s parents or grandparents or other relatives, it’s that much harder to forge a meaningful bond with them and makes holidays with Chinese family more challenging.

Besides the two usual arguments – “too hard” and “not necessary” — an additional barrier exists among cross-cultural couples. Whatever language you use while falling in love with someone becomes the language you prefer to use for communication (see The Relationship Between Language and Falling in Love). For those foreigners who start a relationship with their future spouses in English or another non-Chinese language, this serves as a psychological barrier to trying out their fledgling Chinese with their loved ones. Still, it doesn’t mean you can’t learn; you just might need to find yourself a supportive tutor or a language school or university program to fulfill your goals, instead of relying on your spouse, who might not be the best teacher anyhow. (See my post Why It’s a Really Bad Idea to Teach Your Spouse Your Language.)

So, let’s consider all of these factors together.

#1: Chinese may be difficult, but you can set a more reasonable goal (such as learning a set of useful conversational phrases) to put learning within your reach.

#2: While Chinese might not be a requirement for work or even running errands, foreigners with Chinese spouses may need to know some Chinese because they’ll encounter the language for the rest of their lives, through family.

#3: Foreigners who never spoke Chinese before with their spouses might feel challenged to learn, but they can choose to find tutors or language programs to study, instead of their spouse.

Ultimately, foreigners with Chinese spouses have a really strong excuse for learning – family. And they can overcome the barriers, if they set a reasonable goal and recognize their spouses can’t always be teachers.

So perhaps we shouldn’t ask the question, “Should foreigners with a Chinese spouse learn the language?” Instead, maybe it’s time we start talking about how to learn – and when.

What do you think? Do you agree that foreigners with a Chinese spouse should learn the language?

Photo credit: Kevin Dooley

Mandarin Love: A Banquet of Chinese Wedding/Marriage Words, With Personal Notes

It’s nearly summer, that intoxicating season of endless love — and, where I’m from, one punctuated by lots of wedding invitations. If you’re planning to tie the knot in China or know someone who will, here’s handy little reference of Chinese wedding/marriage words and expressions, with some of my own personal notes.

Getting Married in Chinese

Qiúhūn, 求婚: Whether you’re getting down on one knee or making a big spectacle, this word means “propose marriage.”

I proposed (marriage) to her.
我向她求婚了.
wŏ xiàng tā qiúhūn le

Note that in recent years, the trend in China is for men to turn wedding proposals into major spectacles — make it memorable and romantic!

Jiéhūn, 结婚: If you’re “getting married” here’s the word for you — as in

We’re getting married!
我们要结婚啦!
Wǒmen yào jiéhūn la!

But keep in mind that there are also different words for a woman marrying a man versus a man marrying a woman. The difference reflects the Chinese perspective that the woman marries into the man’s family.

Qǔ,娶: If you’re a man and you are marrying someone, you use qǔ,娶, which also can mean “take a bride”. For example:

He married a girl from Henan.
他娶了个河南姑娘。
Tā qǔle gè Hénán gūniang.

Jià, 嫁: Women, however, are perceived as marrying out and so you use the word jià, 嫁 instead. For example:

I married (gave myself to) him.
我嫁给他了。
Wǒ jià gěi tā le.

But if you think that’s confusing, so are anniversary dates in China. That’s because most people register their marriages and thus become officially married ahead of the wedding ceremony itself. (If you’re curious, read The Dengji Question: How Marriage in China Gets Confusing.) Which brings me to the next word…

Dēngjì, 登记: While this word means “to register” in general, it’s also a term people use to describe registering a marriage in China (which must be done in a marriage registration bureau and usually happens before an actual wedding ceremony occurs).

We registered (our marriage)!
我们登记了!
Wǒmen dēngjìle!

Hūnlǐ, 婚礼: This is the standard word for “wedding ceremony” and the best term to use when in doubt.

But there are other similar words people often use to talk about wedding ceremonies (which usually just comprise the banquet with guests in China), such as xǐshì, 喜事 (usually taken to mean “wedding”), xǐjiǔ, 喜酒 (meaning “wedding feast”) and of course, hūnyàn, 婚宴 (“wedding banquet”, also the name of the famous film by Ang Lee).

Wedding Attire in Chinese

Hūnshā, 婚纱: The white bridal gown, which has become standard for brides in China. At wedding ceremonies/banquets, the bride usually wears her hūnshā first. If you’re purchasing a wedding dress in China, keep in mind there are lots of options for having yours tailor-made, which is what I did years ago in Suzhou (which like a number of cities, has its own “wedding-dress street).

Tóushā, 头纱: The veil for your white bridal gown.

Qípáo, 旗袍: As I wrote before, the qipao or cheongsam is “a high-necked and form-fitting style of dress with slits down the skirt, often on both sides. The dress first appeared in 1920s Shanghai as a modern take on traditional Manchu garb, and has since evolved into a stylish tradition of its own for women in China.” Since most Chinese brides wear several dresses, many opt to have a qipao at their weddings. I actually wore two at mine.

If you’re debating whether or not to have one, see Do You Need to Wear a Cheongsam in Your Chinese Wedding?

Wǎnlǐfú, 晚礼服: The evening gown, another wedding dress option chosen by many Chinese brides.

But let’s not forget the groom…

Yànwěifú, 燕尾服: A tuxedo, one option for the groom.

Tángzhuāng, 唐装: A Tang suit, which mainly consists of a jacket, often made of silk or silk brocade, to match a bride’s qipao. My husband wore a Tang suit at our wedding.

The Wedding Party in Chinese

Xīnniáng, 新娘: The bride. While weddings in the West traditionally have reflected the bride’s style, weddings in China often revolve heavily around the family and guests. In other words, it’s a family affair, much like in Ang Lee’s The Wedding Banquet.

Xīnláng, 新郎: The groom.

Xīnrén, 新人: The newlywed couple.

Bànniáng, 伴娘: The bridesmaid(s)

Bànláng, 伴郎: The groomsman/groomsmen

Traditionally, bridesmaids and groomsmen in Chinese weddings should be unmarried individuals.

Other Wedding Must-Haves in Chinese

Hūnshāzhào, 婚纱照: Pre-wedding photos, one of the most important — and glamorous — steps in getting married. There’s a huge industry in China devoted to turning every young couple into models for a day, complete with multiple outfits, professional makeup and hair designers, and airbrushed photos.

Jiéhūn jièzhǐ, 结婚戒指 (hūn jiè, 婚戒): The wedding ring. While not a traditional part of Chinese weddings, most couples today will exchange rings.

Hūnchē, 婚车: The wedding car, a modern version of the traditional wedding sedan chair (or jiàozi, 轿子). Expect your wedding car, which is almost always a luxury model, to be decorated in elaborate flower arrangements.

Xīnfáng, 新房: While it literally means “bridal chamber” — traditionally, extended families lived together so the new couple only had a chamber within the home — now people use the term to refer to the apartment or home purchased explicitly in preparation for a wedding, usually bought by the groom. (The pressure to buy an apartment in China, where prices have skyrocketed in major metropolitan areas, weighs heavily on the shoulders of young men, especially if their families don’t have much money. See Marriage in China Is Home, Car Money?)

Xǐtáng, 喜糖: Wedding candy. Whenever someone gets married in China, they will pass out wedding candy to all their guests as well as friends and even coworkers who may not have attended the nuptials. There’s a whole industry built around this, with ultra-cute boxes for the candies. (I love chocolate, but soft corn candies shaped like miniature corn cobs are a personal favorite as well.)

Nàodòngfáng, 闹洞房: Roughhousing in the bridal chamber, also known as the most humiliating portion of the wedding for the bride and groom. Their friends will either corner them in the banquet hall or follow them back to the new apartment or a rented hotel room, and tease them with risque practical jokes (including those involving bananas). Traditionally, it was done to ease the new couple into their sex life, long before sex education existed; now it’s just done to amuse the guests and make the couple blush, and then some. Sigh.

Hóngbāo, 红包: Red envelopes stuffed with money. Chinese weddings may be exhausting for the couple, but at least you can count on receiving lots of these from your guests.

Other Helpful Chinese Wedding Expressions

Méndānghùduì, 门当户对: Refers to families of equal status. Traditionally, Chinese marriages happened between families that matched each other in rank and wealth.

Báitóuxiélǎo, 白头偕老: A happy greeting for the newlyweds that means, “May you live together until you’re old and gray.”

Sāndàjiàn, 三大件: The three big items, which refers to three must-haves for married couples. Once upon a time when my in-laws married, it was actually four big items (sìdàjiàn, 四大件). In more recent times, the must-haves are things such as a home, car and money — or even a home, car, money and nice honeymoon.

Jīngpílìjié, 精疲力竭: Completely exhausted, which is how the bride and groom will probably feel after that marathon Chinese wedding. Trust me.

What do you think? What terms would you add/recommend?

“Mom” And “Dad” Is What I Call My Chinese In-Laws — and Here’s Why It’s Easier Than I Thought

Years ago when my husband Jun and I got our little red marriage books in China, I remember traveling back to his village and proudly showing off the photos of our civil marriage ceremony. While it still didn’t count to his family as a real wedding (in China, it’s normal to get married on the books, called dengji/登记 in Chinese, well before you actually have a wedding ceremony), they were pleased to see the two of us committed for life.

And as I learned, that commitment meant changing how I addressed Jun’s parents. From then on, Jun instructed me to call them Laoba (老爸) and Laoma (老妈), just like him. Or Baba (爸爸) and Mama (妈妈) — the universal Chinese words for “Dad” and “Mom” — if I so desired. The bottom line was, I would now refer to them as if they were my own parents, in the most intimate terms once only reserved for my father and mother.

This isn’t the norm in the America I grew up in, where you call your in-laws by their first names. And given all the jokes about in-laws (and the American tendency to want to live as far from your in-laws as possible), I’m sure there are some Americans out there privately referencing their in-laws using expletives. The bottom line, though, is that in America there’s always this implied distance from your in-laws — a distance that I was never expected to have with Jun’s parents.

Being suddenly asked to call two people who never raised me “Mom” and “Dad” should be an adjustment. And to be sure, it did take some getting used to. But it was actually a lot easier than I thought for a very simple reason.

I was calling them “Mom” and “Dad” in Chinese, not in my native language of English.

Even though Laoba, Laoma, Baba and Mama were just as intimate as the words “Mom” and “Dad” that I grew up using, I had never called my parents by the Chinese versions. So in way, it actually freed me to easily adjust to using them with Jun’s parents. I didn’t feel like I was stretching any definition of who “Mom” and “Dad” were because it sounded different.

Now it’s like second nature and I don’t even think about it anymore. That’s who they are — Laoba and Laoma.

So I have to wonder, is it harder for Chinese people to get used to this? Do they struggle to refer to in-laws with such intimate terms?

Then again, this is just about what to call someone. Now family relationships, the day-to-day stuff, that’s the real struggle (one that, admittedly, can lead to the use of expletives or other unflattering names at times).

But that’s another story for another day.

What do you think?

“Rotten Sweet Potato” & Other Funny but Unflattering Nicknames Among Chinese Friends and Family

By Llez – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10483011

Note to everyone waiting on my moving announcement – sorry to keep you all in suspense on this, but I promise I’ll share the news soon. Please bear with me and in the meantime, enjoy this lighthearted post!

Do American men love to give their male friends unflattering nicknames? That was the conclusion of one American standup comedian I once watched years ago on cable television. He claimed women never do this, and followed it up with the seemingly preposterous example of a fictional woman dialing up her close girlfriend saying, “Hey Betty, you water-retaining cow, how are you?”

If only that comedian heard about the nicknames among my husband’s circle of male friends and relatives. Most are unflattering, and some are even downright derogatory. In other words, they’d be right at home in any standup comedy routine.

Is this phenomenon a worldwide guy thing or just a coincidence? While we ponder that, here are several examples of those unflattering nicknames from my husband’s own circle of guy friends and relatives in China.

Jīpìgu/鸡屁股 – literally “chicken butt.” I wonder if this guy always gets the rear end of all the chicken served at banquets as a joke?

Làlìtóu/瘌痢头 – literally someone with a head of favid, a rare fungal disease usually affecting the scalp. You can read about it in this Wikipedia article, though I don’t recommend checking it out during dinnertime. Makes you wonder about the guy with this nickname and how he ended up with it.

Lànfānshǔ/烂番薯 – literally “rotten sweet potato.” I have no idea where this nickname came from, but I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with his cooking ability.

Mázi/麻子 –refers to someone with either a pockmarked face or a face covered in moles. I know a number of folks in the US who suffered through childhood because of freckles or other facial features such as moles or scars. I guess in China you don’t get a pass on this; and sometimes, you get a nickname.

Sóng/ — a term for male reproductive fluid. Try imagining someone with this nickname and see if you don’t laugh.

Yánghuǒdànzǐ/洋火弹子 – literally “matches and a shot from a bullet,” this nickname refers to the fellow’s prominent mullet. I guess this guy’s hair is really “on fire.” 😉

What unflattering nicknames have you heard?

4 Chinese Curse Words That Sound Funny in Literal Translation, But Are Actually Serious

By Loozrboy – Watch your language, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=40097524

I married a Chinese man and we share a bilingual relationship in Chinese and English. So it was inevitable that one day my language learning would extend to that forbidden territory – cursing in Mandarin Chinese.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not the kind of woman who belongs in a Quentin Tarantino movie, dropping F-bombs at gunshot speed. But let’s face it — there are moments that demand a well-chosen curse word. So why not know a few in Mandarin Chinese?

But when it comes to curse words, the most fascinating ones are the least expected. You know, words that don’t necessarily sound like curse words on literal translation. (In fact, they can actually pack a serious punch, so be careful about how you use them.)

Here are four fascinating curse words in Mandarin Chinese that, on literal translation, might sound funny to English speakers. Just remember — use them with care, because whoever hears you might not laugh in return. 😉

狗兔崽子, gǒutùzǎizi – this could literally translate to “dog and rabbit bastards.” I confess, I busted up with laughter when I first heard this curse word. That’s because I was imagining dogs and rabbits trying to mate with each other – how could you not laugh over that?

That said, this curse word actually packs a punch. It’s the Chinese equivalent of SOB. Now you know.

畜生不如, chùshengbùrú – “No better than wild beasts.” The first time I heard this choice curse word, it fell from the lips of an elderly relative in the family, after her husband chose to rudely light up his cigarette indoors despite her pleas.

I love that woman.

While the translation sounds tame enough, it isn’t in Mandarin Chinese. I’ve seen folks translate it as you f***ing beast or simply a-hole.

王八蛋, wángbādàn – you could rewrite this classic curse word into English as “the king of eight eggs.” “egg of a tortoise.” But if you think it’s sounds just as innocuous as the literal translation, you’d be wrong. It actually comes off more like a really strong term for “bastard” or even that bad word for anus. Careful guys.

鬼子,guǐzi – who hasn’t heard this other classic curse word that translates as “devil” or “demon” or “foreign invaders”? Besides, “gui” can also mean “ghost,” so you could be forgiven for thinking this isn’t all that strong.

Except you’d be wrong on that. It actually can be as potent as that World War II ethnic slur against the Japanese — yeah, that word — which is also one definition for the term.

Whoa.

Do you have examples of curse words that sound funny in literal translation, but pack a punch in reality?

Guest Post: What’s Your Chinese Name Story?

I’m thrilled to run this guest post from Emily Hsiang, a production assistant and editor for a film startup in Taipei called MURIS producing the new documentary Hanzi. This film explores international design, visual culture and identity through the lens of modern Chinese typography, and is being supported by a Kickstarter campaign (already fully funded with only 7 days to go!). Here’s the introduction to the film from Kickstarter:

Chinese is one of the oldest and most used languages in the world, yet it is perceived as difficult to learn. Furthermore, there has been a lack of discussion on Chinese typography and its transition into the digital era compared to its western counterparts. Recently there has been a renaissance and reviewing of Chinese characters in Asia and internationally, with typography and lettering books often topping the best selling books, and more and more typographical courses and workshops being held in the cities. We think that’s worth exploring to the discussion of design and cultural identity.

Collaborating with filmmakers from New York, Hong Kong, London and Taipei, Hanzi includes interviews from ShaoLan, founder and creator of Chineasy in London; Akira Kobayashi, a Japanese renowned Roman font designer; Sammy Or, a veteran Chinese font designer based in Hong Kong; also Ri Xing Type Foundry, the last traditional Chinese letterpress type foundry in the world and more, gathering some of the most important figures and insight in the current Chinese education and typography field.

This film is not just about Chinese characters, we wanted to keep the ideas and messages applicable to all languages and cultures. Exploring universal subjects such as “How does language shape identity? What role does handwriting play in the digital age?”, Hanzi encourages audiences around the world to revisit and rethink their own culture, language and identity.

You can learn more about the film and watch a trailer at the Hanzi Kickstarter campaign page.
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(Photo by Kevin Dooley via Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/pagedooley/2033195014)

Hanzi is an upcoming feature-length documentary exploring international design, visual culture and identity through the lens of modern Chinese typography.

We didn’t want this film to just be about Chinese characters, we wanted to keep the ideas and messages applicable to all languages and cultures. Exploring universal subjects such as “How does language shape identity? What role does handwriting play in the digital age?”

One of the themes we talked about in Hanzi is cultural and personal identity. And one of the biggest factors in “finding and having an identity” comes from your name.

Most of us grow up with a name chosen by our parents. Just like how Asian American kids would have English names, many Westerners that came to Asia to study are given Chinese names. Asian cultures, in general, take great pride and thought into picking names. Each combination of characters not only needs to sound nice, it usually has meanings of virtue or aspirations.

Ash Henson is the Co-founder of Outlier Linguistics, a new dictionary of Chinese characters based on the latest research on the Chinese writing system. As an American from Texas, he had to learn Chinese as an adult, which inspired him to create his app. In the movie, he shared with us about how and why he learned Chinese and the relationship between language and personal identity.

We asked him how he chose his Chinese name 李艾希:

When Ash was an undergrad, his roommate’s girlfriend was Taiwanese. Ash’s full English name is Ashley which came from the movie Gone with the Wind. His roommate’s girlfriend looked up the Chinese book version of the book – which was 艾希禮. Since 禮 sounds the same as 李 – a very common last name in Asia, Ash adapted his name into 李艾希 to avoid confusion from local Taiwanese.

Other examples of Chinese names and their meanings from a local point of view could show the expectations and hopes of Chinese parents. With that in mind, 國榮 is a very popular boy’s name. 國 means nation, whereas 榮 means prosperity. So 國榮 means “to bring prosperity to his or her nation”. Heavy stuff huh?

Growing up as an Asian American, I have a complicated feeling towards my names. In English, my name is Emily – a popular girl’s name. In Chinese, my name is 項藍 – composed of a rare one-letter name and an even rarer surname. 項 in ancient Chinese means the part between one’s skull and the back of one’s neck. 藍 means blue – an inspiration of a bright, cloudless day on which I was born. While I identify with both names, I do have a sort of special pride in having the color blue in my name.

What’s your Chinese name story?

Emily Hsiang is a production assistant and editor for MURIS, a film startup in Taipei producing the new documentary Hanzi.
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Speaking of China is always on the lookout for outstanding guest posts! If you have something you’d like us to feature, visit the submit a post page for details — and then submit yours today.

To the American Who Told Me, “Don’t Speak Chinese to Your Husband”

By unknown. Photographer: Heritage Auction Galleries of Dallas, Texas - http://entertainment.ha.com/common/view_item.php?Sale_No=648&Lot_No=22270&type=&ic=, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4583301
By unknown. Photographer: Heritage Auction Galleries of Dallas, Texas – http://entertainment.ha.com/common/view_item.php?Sale_No=648&Lot_No=22270&type=&ic=, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4583301

I always used to think you were cool and open-minded. You voted for Obama. You had a terrific downward dog pose. One of your friends was Chinese.

I figured, surely you would understand how wonderful it is to have a bilingual relationship. I thought you would praise me for speaking more than my native English – for being able to have meaningful conversations in both Chinese and English with my husband, who is from China.

So imagine my shock when you told me not to speak Chinese with my husband – in so many words.

I remember the way you looked so uncomfortable when you said this to me. I’m sure, at some level, you realized how totally inappropriate it was. That the part of you that prided yourself on promoting diversity would be tarnished by this one small action.

But you did it anyway – and you didn’t even apologize about it.

Since you care so much about diversity, let’s make something really clear. Speaking a foreign language is diversity. You can’t say “I love diversity” and then suddenly crap on someone else just because they speak another language.

Also, anyone who cares about diversity should have known that “English only” is just another way to say you’re afraid of foreigners. And guess what? Foreigners are also part of diversity, in case you didn’t notice. You shouldn’t be afraid of them if you like diversity. You should embrace them…which means embracing foreign languages too.

If this is about your own self-esteem issues – that, somehow, my ability to speak Chinese makes you feel bad about your monolingualism – please get over yourself. Nobody forced you to speak only English. You could have studied a foreign language anytime. Heck, you could do it now if you wanted. It’s called education.

Though, honestly, given how much you don’t understand about diversity or racism, you might want to start educating yourself on those.

Oh and by the way, there’s something else you should know. Saying you have a friend who is Chinese doesn’t prove you’re not a racist. In fact, white people have been using the excuse, “I’m not racist, I have a black friend” for years. It’s still lame, even when you replace “black” with “Chinese” or any other minority group.

I’m embarrassed that people like you call themselves “diverse” and “open-minded”, and then say things in public that would make anyone want to revoke your so-called diversity credentials instantly. So maybe the one who shouldn’t be speaking isn’t me — it’s you.

3 Fun Things About Learning Your Partner’s Obscure Language or Dialect

A couple of years ago, I wrote a post about deciding whether or not to learn the dialect when your family doesn’t speak Mandarin Chinese.

Well, I chose to learn my husband’s local dialect, and now I can proudly say I’m proficient in many of the common conversational phrases. It’s amazing to finally connect with my husband’s family and friends in the local dialect.

But more than that, learning your partner’s obscure language or dialect can also be a LOT of fun, as I’ve discovered.

Here are 3 reasons why:

IMG_190448#1: Being able to talk privately when you travel with your partner

My husband’s entire home county has a population of only 400,000 people. Most folks there are also homebodies, preferring to stay close to family.

So when we travel outside the county, the chances of actually running into someone from there – especially if we go abroad – are practically nil.

That makes speaking my husband’s local dialect our go-to language to express anything we’d rather keep private. You know, like the fact that I find my husband’s butt very sexy… 😉

IMG_2151#2: Making the family laugh, because they never expected to hear you say THAT in their language

There’s nothing quite like watching my mother-in-law giggle when she hears me say “I’m going to wash clothes” or “I can’t eat this” in the local dialect.

Yes, plain, everyday phrases like that suddenly become hilarious whenever I speak them in front of family (even my husband). And it’s all because it’s so odd to see me – a white American woman – using the local dialect.

(I have to admit, sometimes even I have to laugh when I speak in it. Never in a million years did I imagine myself learning this language, one that had once seemed impossible and completely unintelligible to me!)

IMG_20160207_164829#3: Finally being able to follow conversations around the family dinner table

One of the reasons I used to dread visiting my husband’s family was the fact that I got really, really bored sitting around the table at dinner. After all, everyone would fall into the local dialect – the preferred language – and I couldn’t understand a single word.

Not so anymore.

Nowadays, I understand more than 60 percent of the conversations in local dialect – and whatever I don’t understand, I can usually figure out by the context. (I still can’t believe how much I’ve learned!)

Although, this can sometimes qualify as “not so fun after all” when the conversations happen to involve something intensely personal (like, say, how the family is wondering aloud when you’re finally going to have kids – which happens more than you might think!).

Ah well. Better to hear it firsthand than filtered through someone else, right?

What do you think?

Guest Post: Learn Mandarin Chinese – What to Call Chinese Family for Western Women Married to Chinese Men

A few years back, I wrote an article titled The Chinese Relatives Name Game, reflecting on the challenges of trying to remember all of the names for relatives here in China. It’s funny that I’ve been married to my husband for over 10 years and I still can’t keep them straight! (In the post, I even wondered if it might take me a lifetime to get the names right… 😉 )

Of course, with Chinese New Year coming up, it’s as if I’m facing the yearly final exam on this subject – one that I’m not entirely sure I’m going to pass. (Ah well, at least my blunders might provide a bit of comic relief during the holidays?)

That’s why I’m grateful Yiwen Yang has graciously provided this article. It’s an introduction to some of the basics every Western woman who marries a Chinese man should know when it comes to what to call your Chinese family members.

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What to Call Chinese Family Members for Western Women Married to Chinese MenThe other day we were reading Jocelyn’s article The Chinese Relatives Name Game again, and thought about how confusing understanding all about Chinese family members can be!

Whilst we’re sure it’s not a new topic for many foreigners who are learning Mandarin Chinese, it’s definitely still a big challenge—especially if you are new to your Chinese family, and them to you.

As Chinese New Year is once again looming, why not refresh some of your Chinese language skills in advance so that you can impress your Chinese family—or maybe give them surprise at how fluent you have become in the language.

So, today, we are going to help you out!

As many of you know, Chinese family trees can be talked about forever. To actually remember the names and titles of people in Chinese family trees takes time; indeed, it’s also challenging for many native Chinese.

As Jocelyn from Speaking of China is more focused on AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love, let’s get started by looking at terms for Western women married to Chinese men.

Here’s an easy one if you are married to a Chinese man:

Husband: 老公,丈夫,先生 (lǎogōng, zhàngfu, xiānsheng)

What will your husband call you? (wife): 老婆,妻子,夫人 (lǎopó, qīzi, fūrén)

Note: 老公 (lǎogōng)/老婆 (lǎopó) are the most popular names which you can use in basically every situation, whilst 丈夫 (zhàngfu)/妻子 (qīzi),先生 (xiānsheng)/夫人 (fūrén) are a bit more formal and used to introduce a couple to other people.

For example, 这是我的先生 (Zhè shì wǒ de xiānsheng):This is my husband

In-laws:

Father in-law (your husband’s father): 公公 (gōnggong)

Mother in-law (your husband’s mother): 婆婆 (pópo)

公公 (gōnggong) and 婆婆 (pópo) are the most common words in use although, in many cases, people just use the same words as their husband use, which are father(爸,bà)or mother(妈,mā).

Also, when you have a child, some people will follow the words the child speaks, namely: grandfather(爷爷,yéye),grandmother (奶奶,nǎinai) 。

So what will your in-laws call you? 媳妇 (xífù)/儿媳 (érxí):(daughter in-law)

Note: in many cases, if they are talking to you, they will just say your name naturally.

Other useful names you might use:

Your husband’s older brother: 大伯(dàbó)
Your husband’s older sister: 大姑子(dàgūzi)
Your husband’s younger brother: 小叔子(xiǎoshūzi)
Your husband’s younger sister: 小姑子(xiǎogūzi)

Sounds complicated already?

Well, here are some great tips for you to follow:

  1. For the older generation/seniors, if you forget the correct way to speak to them, just to follow your husband is fine. (Eg. it’s okay to call your parents in-law just “father” or “mother”.)
  2. For the younger generation/seniors, you can either follow your husband or just say their name directly. (Eg. Your husband’s younger sister. If her name is 筱钧(xiǎojūn),you can just say her name directly.)

You may not need to use all of the above every day but, don’t worry, you’ll soon get used to the best/correct ways of addressing family members.

Actually, on our site Learn Mandarin Now, we recently published two Podcasts about Chinese family members:

  • direct family members: http://www.learnmandarinnow.com/podcast13
  • extended family members: http://www.learnmandarinnow.com/podcast19

We are now publishing our exciting Podcasts every day from Monday-Friday, covering a variety of interesting topics to help you learn Mandarin Chinese more effectively. They are totally free for everyone to view and listen to but, if you can kindly leave your honest opinion and ratings in i-Tunes or just simply tell us what kind of topics you like us to talk about in the near future, we’d greatly appreciate this. In any event, we’d love hear from you.

Wish everyone a great Chinese New Year ahead!
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The 18 Funniest Chinese Phrases (and How to Use Them), Pub’d on Matador

The 18 Funniest Chinese Expressions (and How to Use Them)

Last week, Matador Network just published my article titled “The 18 Funniest Chinese Phrases (and How to Use Them)“. Here’s a snippet of the article:

1. Chinese people aren’t just in a class all their own. They’re “a crane among a flock of chickens.” (鹤立鸡群, hèlìjīqún)

2. In Chinese, you’re not better late than never. You “mend the flock after the sheep have been lost.” (亡羊补牢, wángyángbǔláo)

3. A Chinese person won’t kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. But he might “drain the pond to catch all the fish.” (竭泽而渔, jiézé’éryú)

To read all 18 of those phrases, see the full article at Matador Network. And if you love it, share it!