early British article on Chinese characters

Matt at No-sword tells of the welcome news that many back issues of the journals of the Royal Society are now online. What makes this particularly interesting is that the Royal Society has been publishing these since at least 1665.

So I dug around and found “Some Observations, and Conjectures concerning the Chinese Characters,” which dates from the late 1600s. It was published in an issue of Philosophical Transactions that contains not one but two articles by Edmond Halley. Wow.

The article on Chinese characters, however, is in many places opaque — not that that’s really a big surprise considering this was written more than 300 years ago. The author is intrigued by the notion of a universal artificial language. He concludes, “Now as by such a Language the Character might be made Effable without Musical Tones or Difficult Aspirations, so had we Dictionarys of the Signification of the Characters, we might as soon learn the Chinese Character, as we can Latine, or any other Language to be learnt by Book, and not by Speaking.”

This appears to be an early example of several myths about Chinese characters, such as the ideographic myth, which was first debunked in the West about 150 years later by Peter DuPonceau.

The author also tells of what he believes is the “true design” of the Yi Ching (Yìj?ng ??):

both the Chinese and European Commentators assert it to be a Conjuring Book, or a Book to tell Fortunes by, and to be made use of by the Chinese for that purpose; whereas by the small Specimen I have seen of it, I conceive it to contain the whole Ground, Rule or Grammer, of their Character, Language and Philosophy, and that by the understanding of it, the Foundation and Rule of their Language and Character, may be without much difficulty Deciphered and Understood.

I don’t think that particular line of thought got very far.

The article concludes with an illustration that mainly features numbers in Chinese characters. What makes this particularly interesting, at least for me, is the addition of romanization. I have rotated the image counter-clockwise to make it easier to read the romanization. Note especially the use of the letter x. (Click the image to see it slightly enlarged.)

click for slightly larger image, mostly of numbers in Chinese characters and romanization

sources and further readings:

a shameless proposal

A Taipei city councilor with the KMT on Tuesday launched an attack on President Chen Shui-bian disguised as a signage proposal. His idea: Change the name of Ketagalan Boulevard (凱達格蘭大道 Kǎidágélán Dàdào), the street leading to the Presidential Office.

The city councilor, Yang Shi-qiu (楊實秋, Yang Shih-chiu), called for a change to Lǐ-yì-lián Dàdào, which is literally Propriety, Righteousness, [and] Honesty Boulevard. While that might sound nice, it’s actually a disguised insult.

John DeFrancis was all over this word play a long time ago in “The Singlish Affair,” the biting satire that leads off his essential book The Chinese Language: Fact and Fantasy. DeFrancis explains assigning the name Li Yilian to a person in his story:

The most complex is the name Lǐ Yìlián. Those who know Chinese may get the point if it is written in characters: 禮義廉 or, in simplified characters, 礼义廉. The three characters mean respectively “propriety, morality, modesty” and form part of a four-character phrase listing a number of Confucian virtues of which the fourth is 恥 (chǐ “a sense of shame”). The omission of the fourth character is part of a Chinese word game in which the reader is supposed to guess the last item when it is omitted — much as if we had to tell what is lacking in the list of the three Christian virtues of “Faith, Hope, and ______.” The omission of the fourth character is expressed as 無恥 or 无耻 (wúchǐ “lacking a sense of shame”). In short, calling someone Mr. Lǐ Yìlián seems to praise him as Mr. Propriety, Morality, and Modesty but actually insults him as Mr. Shameless.

By renaming the street “people will know that the person who works at the Presidential Office at the end of the boulevard has no sense of chi [恥, shame],” Yang said.

Taipei Mayor Ma Ying-jeou, who also serves as chairman of the KMT, didn’t care for the idea of his city having a Lǐ-yì-lián Dàdào or Wúchǐ Dàdào (both of which could be translated as “Shameless Boulevard” — the first figuratively, the second literally) but said that the name Lǐ-yì-lián-chǐ Dàdào (“Propriety, Righteousness, Honesty, and a Sense of Shame Boulevard”) could be discussed.

The name of Ketagalan Boulevard is especially interesting from a number of standpoints.

  • Since the street is named after a tribe that lived long ago in what is now Taipei, Ketagalan Boulevard is one of the only road names in all of the capital of Taiwan that has much of anything to do specifically with Taiwan, as opposed to China. (Jilong/Keelung Road is the only other one that springs to mind at the moment.)
  • It is one of the only Taipei street names that isn’t bisyllabic.
  • The street itself is not really independent as much as an extention of Ren’ai Road. (Don’t forget that apostrophe.)
  • The name has been changed before. As Mark Caltonhill notes in What’s in changing a name?, “the vast majority of the island’s streets and even many towns were simply renamed by the KMT regime”. But in this case I’m referring to a relatively recent renaming. In 1996, Chen Shui-bian, who was then mayor of Taipei, oversaw the renaming of the street from Jieshou Road (介壽, Jièshòu Lù, i.e., “Long Live Chiang Kai-shek Road”).
  • Chinese characters aren’t a good fit for “Ketagalan,” which comes out 凱達格蘭 (Kǎidágélán).

Here’s a Mandarin-language story on this:

Miànduì dào Chén Shuǐ-biǎn huódòng bùduàn, Táiběi Shìyìyuán Yáng Shí-qiū jīntiān biǎoshì, tā yǐ zhǎnkāi lián shǔ, tí’àn bǎ Ketagalan Dàdào gēngmíng wéi Lǐ-yì-lián Dàdào; Táiběi shìzhǎng Mǎ Yīngjiǔ suī rènwéi yǒu chuàngyì, dànshì yǒu màrén “wúchǐ” zhī xián, tā bù zànchéng.

Táiběi Shìyìhuì xiàwǔ jǔxíng shìzhèng zǒng zhìxún shí, Yáng Shí-qiū zhìxún biǎoshì, Chén Shuǐ-biǎn zǒngtǒng zài Táiběi shìzhǎng rènnèi zài wèijīng mínyì zhēngxún xià, jiù bǎ jièshòu lù gǎimíng wéi Ketagalan Dàdào, rìqián yòu làngfèi Xīn Táibì shàng yì yuán, bǎ Zhōngzhèng Guójì Jīchǎng gēngmíng wéi Táiwān Táoyuán Jīchǎng. Yáng Shí-qiū yě lián shǔ tí’àn, yāoqiú shì-fǔ jiāng Ketagalan Dàdào gēngmíng wéi “Lǐ-yì-lián Dàdào”.

Mǎ Yīngjiǔ huídá shuō, dàolù yǐ zhèngmiàn mìngmíng wèi yuánzé, ér bù shì fùmiàn mìngmíng, yìyuán de yòngyì yǒu chuàngyì, dànshì kèyì shěnglüè jiùshì màrén “wúchǐ” zhī xián. Yáng Shí-qiū huíyìng shuō, ruò shì-fǔ yǒu yílǜ, Ketagalan Dàdào kě gǎiwéi “Lǐ-yì-lián-chǐ Dàdào”.

Mǎ Yīngjiǔ huíyìng shuō, tā bù zànchéng Ketagalan Dàdào gǎiwéi “Lǐ-yì-lián Dàdào”, zhèyàng huì biànchéng “Wúchǐ Dàdào”, dànshì ruòshì “Lǐ-yì-lián-chǐ Dàdào”, zhè kěyǐ tǎolùn.

Yìyuán Jiǎng Nǎi-xīn suíhòu qiángdiào, Yáng Shí-qiū de tí’àn jiùshì tíxǐng wéizhèng zhě bùkě wúchǐ, ruò Mǎ Yīngjiǔ dānxīn bèi rén zhǐwéi yǒu màrén wúchǐ de yìsi, tā jiànyì gǎiwéi “Bùkě Wúchǐ Dàdào”. Mǎ Yīngjiǔ xiào shuō, zhèige jiànyì gèng yǒu chuàngyì, dànshì xū jīngguò shì-fǔ nèibù tǎolùn.

sources:

    more claims on eliminating illiteracy in China

    Carnival rube: Hey honey, let’s see how good this guy is. What would I win?

    Navin (Steve Martin’s character): Uh, anything in this general area right in here. Anything below the stereo and on this side of the bicentennial glasses. Anything between the ashtrays and the thimble. Anything in this three inches right in here in this area. That includes the Chiclets, but not the erasers.

    —from The Jerk

    It’s easy for people to be declared winners when the barriers for winning are set low enough and everyone is going to be declared a winner no matter what. Here’s what Xinhua reported on Saturday: “The Chinese government plans to eliminate all illiteracy among people aged between 15 and 24 by 2010.” As long as Chinese characters are the sole accepted script for the vast majority of people in China, the chances for this plan to really succeed are zero. But I’m certain it will be declared a great success anyway.

    Remarkably, Xinhua included something in the article that rings true and hints at the prospects for any real success:

    “The central government only appropriates eight million yuan (about one million US dollars) each year to tackle illiteracy, which means each illiterate person only has seven cents (less than one US cent) a year,” according to another MOE official who declined to be named. “And the increasing number of migrant workers has made education a tough task for the government,” he said.

    Less than one US cent won’t buy even so much as one Chiclet, much less a whole pack. And it damn sure won’t be enough to boost literacy in any significant way.

    That’s also basing things on the number of illiterate people in China as 114 million, which is far, far too low. But even if we accept both that claim and the BS claim by an official of the Ministry of Education who would identify himself that “China has maintained an illiteracy ratio of around 4 percent among the youth and the middle aged,” that doesn’t leave much money.

    In 2010, China’s 15-24 age group will total some 190 million people. If 4 percent of those are counted as illiterate, then 7.6 million people would receive a total of 8 million yuan per year. So, even if China decided to axe all literacy programs for people over the age of 24 (which it won’t do) and commits all its alloted resources to the 15-24 age group, the funding would barely top US$1 per person per year to learn the modern world’s most difficult script. Then consider the fact that illiteracy is highest in China’s countryside — a vast area with inadequate infrastructure.

    sources:

    Tibet to eliminate illiteracy by 2010, says Xinhua

    Of course, I don’t believe a word of this. But I’m putting it up here for reference.

    Southwest China’s Tibet Autonomous Region intends to reduce its illiteracy rate to less than five percent in 2007 and to less than three percent in 2010, a senior regional education official announced on Friday.

    The ongoing campaign to eliminate illiteracy in the region mainly targets people aged 15 to 50, the official said. Last year 15 percent of that group were illiterate, down from 39 percent in 2000, he added.

    According to the regional education authorities, literacy in the region means knowing 30 Tibetan letters by heart and being able to read a phonetic transcript of the Tibetan or being able to read and write 1,500 Chinese characters.

    And another article on a related topic:

    Wǒguó shǎoshù mínzú wénmáng bànwénmáng lǜ 10 nián xiàjiàng 16 ge bǎifēndiǎn

    Guójiā Mín-wěi Jiàoyùsī jīchǔ jiàoyù chù chùzhǎng zhōu lì rìqián biǎoshì, jìn shí niánlái, mínzú dìqū de sǎománg gōngzuò chéngjì xiǎnzhù. Zhōu lì shì zài Xīníng zhàokāi de 2006 niándù Zhōngxībù sǎománg gōngzuò huìbào huì shàng zuò shàngshù biǎoshì de. Gēnjù 1990 nián de rénkǒu pǔchá tǒngjì zīliào, shǎoshù mínzú 15 suì jí 15 suì yǐshàng wénmáng bànwénmáng rénkǒu bǐlì shì 30.83%, dàoliǎo 2000 nián, zhèige bǐlì yǐjing xiàjiàng dào 14.54%, qízhōng Xīzàng, Qīnghǎi, Yúnnán, Guìzhōu, Gānsù, Níngxià děng liù shěngqū wénmáng lǜ xiàjiàng de fúdù gāoyú quánguó píngjūn fúdù de 14.55%. Zhōu lì shuō, shǎoshù mínzú 15 suì jí 15 suì yǐshàng wénmáng bànwénmáng rénkǒu bǐlì zài shí niánjiān xiàjiàng 16 ge bǎifēndiǎn, yǔguó jiā de zhīchí yǔ mínzú dìqū zìshēn de nǔlì fēnbukāi.

    They forgot to add that all the children of the world will join hands and sing songs of joy and peace….

    sources:

    carvings said to be in oldest script ever discovered in Western Hemisphere

    drawing of the writing discussed in this blog entryThe latest issue of Science features an article on a stone slab found in Veracruz, Mexico. Scholars have identified the inscriptions on the stone — tentatively dated to at least 900 B.C.E. — as the earliest writing yet found in the Americas.

    Dr. Houston, who was a leader in deciphering Maya writing, examined the stone looking for clues that the symbols were true writing and not just iconography unrelated to a language. He said in an interview that he detected regular patterns and order, suggesting “a text segmented into what almost look like sentences, with clear beginnings and clear endings.”

    Some of the pictographic signs were frequently repeated, Dr. Houston said, particularly ones that looked like an insect or a lizard. He suspected that these might be signs alerting the reader to the use of words that sound alike but have different meanings – as in the difference between “I” and “eye” in English.

    All in all, Dr. Houston concluded, “the linear sequencing, the regularity of signs, the clear patterns of ordering, they tell me this is writing. But we don’t know what it says.”

    The New York Times‘ use of the word “pictographic” prompts me to dig out DeFrancis’s important observation:

    With regard to the principle, it matters little whether the symbol is an elaborately detailed picture, a slightly stylized drawing, or a drastically abbreviated symbol of essentially abstract form. What is crucial is to recognize that the diverse forms perform the same function in representing sound. To see that writing has the form of pictures and to conclude that it is pictographic is correct in only one sense — that of the form, but not the function, of the symbols. We can put it this way:

    QUESTION: When is a pictograph not a pictograph?
    ANSWER: When it represents a sound.

    It looks like those working on the inscription know what they’re doing. But thinking of writing in terms of pictographs or ideographs certainly hindered earlier scholars of the ancient Americas. For a brief essay on this see “The Ideographic Myth as a Barrier to Deciphering Maya Writing,” by Michael D. Coe. This is found in Difficult Characters: Interdisciplinary Studies of Chinese and Japanese Writing, by Mary S. Erbaugh. Or see some of the other many works by Coe.

    sources:

    Hainan primary school kicks out new student for poor Mandarin

    A man surnamed Huang enrolled his boy in school in Sanya, Hainan Province, China. But the boy’s teacher, after receiving no response to his question in Mandarin as to which student was named A Hao, decided school was no place for a child who didn’t speak Mandarin. The youngster could return after mastering Mandarin, the teacher said. (“Xuéhuì Pǔtōnghuà zàilái shàngxué ba.”)

    Although the school has defended the indefinite suspension of the small child, citing “safety concerns,” it doesn’t seem to have many supporters of this action. Mr. Huang is considering a lawsuit against the school, and the district’s authorities have launched an investigation.

    Mandarin is not even the native language for that part of China. The linguistic situation on Hainan is similar to that in Taiwan: most of the native population grew up speaking Hoklo or a non-Sinitic “minority” language, which are all suppressed in favor of Mandarin, whose speakers have poured in relatively recently. Although the active suppression of non-Mandarin languages in Taiwan is no longer as active as before or as the situation remains in China, indirect suppression remains very much in force.

    Huáng xiānsheng xiàng jìzhě fǎnyìng, yóuyú gōngzuò xūyào, tā jiāng qī’ér cóng Hǎinán Shěng Wànnìng Shì bāndào Sānyà Shì Ānyóu Dìqū. Tā dǎsuan jiāng háizi sòngdào fùjìn de Ānyóu Xiǎoxué dúshū, dànshì háizi yīn bù huì Pǔtōnghuà ér bèi lèlìngtuìxué.

    Qǐyīn: háizi zǒucuò jiàoshì

    Huáng xiānsheng duì jìzhě shuō, háizi dì-yī tiān kāixué huílai hòu jiù duì tā shuō: “Bàba, wǒ zǒucuò jiàoshì le, lǎoshī jiào nǐ míngtiān qù yīxià xuéxiào.”

    Dì-èr tiān, Huáng xiānsheng láidào xuéxiào hòu cái dézhī wèntí de yánzhòngxìng. Xiàozhǎng gàosu tā, tā de háizi yīn zǒu cuòle jiàoshì, ràng quán xuéxiào lǎoshī wèicǐ xūjīng yī chǎng. Bānzhǔrèn liǎng cì dào xuésheng qián bān xúnwèn něige xuésheng jiào Ā Hào, dànshì Ā Hào zuòzài jiàoshì lǐ què méiyǒu huídá. Bānzhǔrèn duì Huáng xiānsheng shuō, “Wǒ yī dào xuéxiào, Lóng lǎoshī jiù gēn wǒ shuō, ràng nǐ de háizi huíjiā ba, xuéhuì Pǔtōnghuà zàilái shàngxué ba.”

    Huáng xiānsheng shuō, tā de háizi yuánlái zài lǎojiā dúguò yī niánjí, chéngjì bùcuò, dàn zài jiāxiāng jiǎng de duō shì Hǎinán huà, yīncǐ, tā de háizi shuō Pǔtōnghuà de nénglì hěn chà, zhǐnéng jiǎndān de tīngdǒng yīdiǎn.

    Jiāzhǎng: yào dǎ guānsi tǎo gōngdào

    Huáng xiānsheng duì jìzhě shuō, tā de xiǎohái yòu méiyǒu fàn cuòwu, méiyǒu shénme guòcuò, jiù yīnwèi bù huì Pǔtōnghuà, zǒu cuòle jiàoshì, jiù zhèyàng bèi chéngfá, zhè tài bù gōngpíng le. Jìrán xuéxiào yǐ tōngguò kǎoshì tóngyì qí bàomíng, jiù xiāngdāngyú shuāngfāng qiān le héyuē, xuéxiào bùnéng dānfāngmiàn huǐyuē.

    Huáng xiānsheng chēng, wèile háizi de dúshū quánlì, tā jiāng dào jiàoyù zhǔguǎn bùmén tóusù, bìng dǎsuan jiāng xuéxiào gào shàng fǎtíng, wèi háizi tǎo huí gōngdào.

    Xuéxiào: shìwéi ānquán kǎolǜ

    Jìzhě jiù Huáng xiānsheng fǎnyìng de qíngkuàng láidào Ānyóu Xiǎoxué héshí qíngkuàng. Gāi xuéxiào Shàn xiàozhǎng jiēshòu jìzhě cǎifǎng shí chēng, gāi xuésheng bù shì běnxiào fànwéi nèi de xuésheng, yòu tīngbudǒng Pǔtōnghuà, bù huì yǔ rén jiāoliú. Shàn xiàozhǎng shuō, ràng gāi xuésheng tuìxué de zhíjiē yuányīn shì, gāi xuésheng zǒu cuòle jiàoshì, quán xuéxiào shī-shēng dàochù zhǎo, tā què zuòzài xué; qián bān de jiàoshì lǐ yī shēng bù kēng, xià de quán xuéxiào lǎoshī xūjīng yī chǎng. Shàn xiàozhǎng biǎoshì, rúguǒ bù fāshēng zhèyàng de shì, xuéxiào jiù bù huì lèlìng qí tuìxué le, zhè zhǔyào shì cóng ānquán fāngmiàn lái kǎolǜ de.

    Jiàoyùjú: xuéxiào zuòfǎ bùduì

    Jiù Huáng xiānsheng fǎnyìng qí háizi yīn bù huì Pǔtōnghuà ér bèi lèlìngtuìxué yīshì, jìzhě cǎifǎng le Sānyà Shì Jiàoyùjú fù júzhǎng zhāng wèi lán. Zhāng fù júzhǎng shuō, xuéxiào de zuòfǎ kěndìng bùduì, bùnéng yīnwèi xuésheng bù huì shuō Pǔtōnghuà jiù lèlìngtuìxué. Háizi bù huì Pǔtōnghuà, dào xuéxiào zhèyàng de huánjìng zhōng jiù kěyǐ xuéhǎo Pǔtōnghuà, zhè yěshì yī zhǒng xuéxí de guòchéng.

    Zhāng fù júzhǎng shuō, huì pài yǒuguān rényuán yǔ xuéxiào xiétiáo, zélìng Ānyóu Xiǎoxué gǎizhèng cuòwù, jìxù ràng Huáng xiānsheng de háizi lái shàngxué.

    Lǜshī: háizi yǒu dúshū quánlì

    Jiù gāi xuésheng bèi xuéxiào lèlìngtuìxué yīshì, jìzhě cǎifǎng le Sānyà Shì yán bì xìn lǜshī shìwùsuǒ lǜshī chén chuān Huà xiānsheng. Chén lǜshī shuō, gēnjù wǒguó wèichéngniánrén bǎohù fǎ hé jiǔ nián zhì yìwù jiàoyùfǎ, wèichéngniánrén tóngyàng xiǎngyǒu shòu jiàoyù de quánlì, xuéxiào, shèhuì, jiātíng yǒu yìwù ràng wèichéngniánrén dúshū. Chén lǜshī rènwéi, Ānyóu Xiǎoxué de zuòfǎ shì wéifǎn yǒuguān fǎlǜ fǎguī de, xuésheng jiāzhǎng wánquán kěyǐ tōngguò fǎlǜ tújìng wèi qí háizi tǎo huí gōngdào.

    sources:

    Chinglish International Airport?

    In what many view as a long-overdue move, Taiwan’s government has removed the name of Chiang Kai-shek, the island’s one-time dictator, from the title of the country’s main international airport. What has been reported as the new English name, however, is a bit strained in that the country’s name precedes the county/city name.

      English Pinyin Hanzi
    old Chiang Kai-shek International Airport Zhōngzhèng Guójì
    Jīchǎng
    中正國際機場
    new Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport Táiwān Táoyuán Guójì
    Jīchǎng
    台灣桃園國際機場

    In Mandarin, there’s nothing tremendously odd about using “Taiwan Taoyuan.” In English, however, it’s a completely different story.

    exact phrase romanization no. of results in Google
    Taoyuan Taiwan   241,000
    Taiwan Taoyuan   42,400
     
    臺灣桃園 Taiwan Taoyuan 43,200
    台灣桃園 Taiwan Taoyuan 220,000
    total for 臺灣桃園
    and 台灣桃園
    263,200
     
    桃園臺灣 Taoyuan Taiwan 5,720
    桃園台灣 Taoyuan Taiwan 461
    total
    for 桃園臺灣 and 桃園台灣
    6,181

    Almost all of the examples in English of “Taiwan Taoyuan” have punctuation (stronger than a comma, that is) or new lines separating the words, so running the two names together in that order is less common than the Google result implies, as most English speakers know intuitively.

    “Taiwan Taoyuan,” when used in English, reminds me of nothing so much as the annoying term “Chinese Taipei” (Zhonghua Taibei / 中華台北). This name represents the international kissing of Beijing’s ass diplomatic solution worked out so Taiwan’s teams can participate in international sporting events without China throwing too much of a hissyfit. (We we still get some of those anyway, of course.)

    Since using anything along the lines of “Chinese Taipei” would be anathema to the present administration in Taiwan, what’s going on with the new name for the airport? The logical name would probably be simply “Taoyuan International Airport,” the airport being in Taoyuan County rather than Taipei County. But outside of Taiwan, who has ever heard of Taoyuan? (That’s probably just as well for Taiwan, because much of Taoyuan is downright ugly.) And, anyway, I think that those deciding on the new name regarded adding “Taiwan” and taking out “Chiang Kai-shek” as the top priorities.

    Of course, it could be worse. Some in the KMT have called for the name to be changed to “Taiwan Taoyuan Chiang Kai-shek International Airport.” Ugh.

    However, the code letters for the airport, TPE and RCTP, will not be changed. These are both rooted in the Wade-Giles romanization system, under which we have Taipei (properly T’ai-pei) rather than Taibei.

    Fortunately for all concerned, both “Taoyuan” and “Taiwan” are examples of names spelled the same in most romanization systems. So, at least in this case, the current administration’s attachment to the Tongyong Pinyin romanization system won’t lead to further international embarrassment.

    I spoke earlier today with someone at the Ministry of Transportation and Communications, who informed me that although the Mandarin name of the airport was now officially Táiwān Táoyuán Guójì Jīchǎng, the English name has yet to be set by the Ministry of Education. So it’s possible the English name could change.

    Anyone want to play Name That Airport? I’m more than half serious. The authorities here no doubt need some help with this. (Even though Taoyuan is one of the ugliest places in Taiwan, let’s keep this nice.)

    Oh, in case anyone’s puzzled that “Chiang Kai-shek” and “Zhōngzhèng” don’t look much like each other or even have the same number of syllables, the reason is that Zhōngzhèng is a sort of assumed name, not the name by which he was known to his family, which in Mandarin is Ji?ng Jièshí (???). For more on this see the names section of the Wikipedia article on Chiang Kai-shek. (Me linking to a Wikipedia article? There’s a first time for everything, I guess.)

    sources:

    official advocates Aborigines reclaim original names

    The head of the Gaoxiong County Government’s Indigenous Peoples Bureau announced on Monday that henceforth he would like to be known by his original name, Alang Manglavan, rather than the Sinitic name Du Shi-luan (杜石鑾), and that he had completed the forms for official recognition of this.

    As of the end of last year, Gaoxiong County had some 15,700 members of indigenous tribes. Only about 5 percent of these, however, had applied for an official change of name, Manglavan reported. He encouraged others to apply for the change.

    Here’s one story:

    Gāoxióng Xiànzhèngfǔ Yuánzhùmín Júzhǎng Dù Shí-luán, yǐjīng* shēnqǐng zhèngmíng wéi “Alang Manglavan” (阿浪、滿拉旺), jīntiān gǔlì xiàn nèi yuánzhùmín kě yīfǎ huífù chuántǒng xìngmíng, yǐ xiǎnxiàn yuánzhùmín chuántǒng yuánmào.

    Dù Shí-luán biǎoshì, wèi xiǎngyìng tuīdòng huífù yuánzhùmín chuántǒng míngzi cuòshī, tā jǐ wánchéng zhèngmíng, shì cǎixíng chuántǒng míngzi Hànzì zhùjì hé bìngliè Luómǎ pīnyīn.

    “Alang” shì míngzi, “Manglavan” shì xìng, shì “duànyá” de yìsi, Dù Shí-luán jiěshì shuō, yīnwèi zǔxiān zhù zài duànyá pángbiān, suǒyǐ yǐcǐ wéi xìng. Xīwàng dàjiā yǐhòu yào jiào tā “Ālàng”, bùzài xìng “Dù” le.

    Dù Shí-luán gǔlì yuánzhùmín bǎwò jīhuì, duō gǔlì jiārén, péngyou qiánwǎng hùzhèng shìwùsuǒ bànlǐ huífù chuántǒng xìngmíng zhù jì.

    * The original version in characters has a mistake: 己 instead of 已[经]. A Wubi-based typo?

    sources: