unfortunate results of appetite for ‘lucky’ moss

The desire around Chinese New Year to consume fàcài (髮菜 / 发菜), which is an edible, hairlike moss, has led to desertification in Inner Mongolia, according to an article in the South China Morning Post. The problem is rooted in that fàcài sounds like fācái (發財 / 发财), which is the verb “to get rich.”

Note that fàcài and fācái are not true homophones, so there’s no problem distinguishing them in Pinyin — though even without tone marks the difference would be made clear by context, relative frequency of use, and the fact that one is a noun and the other a verb. The name of this moss and “get rich” also sound similar in Cantonese. (In Taiwan, the pronunciation of the fa of fàcài is in third tone.)

The main association with Chinese New Year is the polite phrase gōngxǐ fācái (恭喜發財 / 恭喜发财), which is tossed around a lot this time of year. (In Cantonese, it’s “kunghei fatchoi,” spelled in lots of ways.) It’s a way of wishing that the person makes a lot of money in the coming year. Although it doesn’t mean “happy new year,” in can be used in most of the same circumstances as that phrase.

Guangzhou diners are still consuming the banned fa cai black moss, with restaurants and seafood shops cashing in on the belief that eating it gives an auspicious start to the Lunar New Year because its name is a homonym for “get rich.” The harvesting and export of the hair-like plant called fat choi in Cantonese was banned in 2000 to protect the environment. Fa cai grows in the thin arid soils of Inner Mongolia, Xinjiang, Ningxia, Qinghai, and Gansu, and harvesting damages the environment because topsoil is raked loose, leading to soil erosion and desertification.

Staff at Guangzhou’s Ting Cheng Restaurant said fa cai with oysters was one auspicious dish on its menu. Seafood shops along Yide Road were also stocking the moss and asking customers what grade they wanted, leading some consumers to wonder whether some of the produce could be corn silk dyed to pass as fa cai.

While one shop owner acknowledged the ban, he said he was selling stock bought before it was implemented. “It’s not allowed to be harvested any more. My suppliers in Xinjiang are giving me stocks harvested before the ban,” he said.

Teacher Shu Chang said she paid 230 Yuan for 250 grams of fa cai. “I can’t really tell the real stuff from fake fa cai, but it must be real because it is expensive. If you soak it and the dye comes off, it must be fake,” she said.

Excessive harvesting has turned millions of hectares of pasture into desert. Before the ban, 40,000 sq. km. had been laid to waste in 20 years in Inner Mongolia.

I wanted to use a desert/dessert pun in the headline of this post. Facai, however, is used in soups and a few other types of dishes, not desserts. Oh well.

source: Auspicious moss stays on menus despite ban, South China Morning Post

pushing Mandarin in Xinjiang preschools

Mandarin (a.k.a. Putonghua) will be pushed even in nursery schools in rural Xinjiang, according to an article originally in the South China Morning Post. Money is being offered to those who participate in the program. It’s interesting, too, that this comes at a time when lots of education officials in China have been complaining that nursery schools in the Han parts of China have been offering too much language instruction, especially in terms of literacy.

Also, in primary and secondary schools Mandarin will be used for the teaching of math and science, while the local languages will be used for humanities courses. This is somewhat similar to the situation in Malaysia, where English is used for math and science but not necessarily for other subjects. The attitudes toward the native languages of these respective areas, however, are very different.

Note, too, that few teachers in the area are capable of teaching in Mandarin. It will be interesting to see how this plays out.

Starting this year, children from seven agricultural prefectures in Xinjiang will start learning Putonghua in nursery schools to strengthen the hold of the national language in the autonomous region.

The move is part of an ongoing effort to implement what the government calls a “bilingual” education system in primary and secondary schools. Putonghua is to be the medium of instruction for mathematics and science, while minority languages such as Uygur will continue to be used in humanities classes.

Xinhua quoted Deputy Secretary Nuer Baikeli as saying the only way to solve the problem and improve the quality of education was to start from the “golden period” -toddlers.

To entice pre-schoolers and teachers to join the programme, students will receive a subsidy of 1.5 yuan a day and teachers 400 yuan a month.

According to the PRC’s statistics, the per capita income of farmers and herdsmen in Xinjiang is about 2,300 yuan per year. Elementary school teachers in Xinjiang make about 1,200 yuan per month. So, relatively speaking, we’re talking about a lot of money as an incentive.

The subsidies will not be offered for bilingual education in primary and secondary schools.

The policy has raised questions about the survival of the native culture of Xinjiang, where the largest ethnic group are the Uygurs (45 per cent), followed by Han (41 per cent) and Kazakhs (7 per cent).

“This is a well-planned strategy by the Chinese government to permanently assimilate the Uygur people into the Chinese culture or dilute the Uygur culture,” said Nury Turkel, president of the Uyghur American Association, a non-profit organization based in Washington DC.

“The Uygur language is one of the most important compositions of the Uygur culture. Taking away that right would create another type of Uygur culture.”

About 70 per cent of schools in the region are ethnic minority schools, which -until recently -started teaching Putonghua as a second language in the third grade. The other 30 per cent teach all classes in Putonghua and introduce English as a second language in the third grade.

Ma Wenhua, deputy director of the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region Education Department, said the goal was to implement bilingual teaching in all minority schools so students would speak fluent Putonghua when they finished secondary school.

“We plan to have all minority schools use bilingual teaching from the first grade in 10 to 20 years,” he told the South China Morning Post. “We think that if these children are not fluent in Putonghua, it could affect their job opportunities. It would also be difficult for them to continue their education.”

The only thing that was stopping the government from moving faster was a lack of qualified teachers, Mr Ma said. Most ethnic minority teachers do not know enough Putonghua to teach in that medium.

Mr Ma estimated that only 5 per cent of ethnic minority primary schools had started teaching in Putonghua. The level of participation varied depending on the number of qualified teachers.

One teacher from an ethnic minority school in Urumqi said her school planned to start teaching mathematics in Putonghua next year.

Most teachers did not know Putonghua and had started training in the language.

The teacher would not say whether she thought bilingual education was better.

“We’ll have to see how it goes,” she said.

China: Mandarin Introduced in Uygur Nursery Schools, South China Morning Post (via the BBC via another site), February 2, 2006

Hunan plans law requiring Mandarin of civil servants

China’s Hunan Province plans to introduce a law that would require all civil servants to speak Mandarin. Under this law, those who fail examinations in Mandarin would not be promoted and could even be “removed from their posts.” (Demoted? Fired?)

If the law is approved, the province will be the first to enforce such a law. The law was planned after the authorities received many complaints about civil servants with poor language skills.

source: Civil servants urged to brush up Mandarin, China Daily, January 13, 2006

Full Mandarinization impossible, says PRC education official

China’s huge population and lack of resources mean the country will never manage to get all its people to speak the national language Mandarin or standarded Chinese despite a 50-year campaign to do so, said a senior education official.

But the fact that more than half of China’s 1.3 billion people can now speak Mandarin represents a tremendous success, Zhang Shiping, vice director of the education ministry’s language planning department, told Reuters.

“I would say a 60 to 70 precent penetration rate is the best we’ll ever achieve,” Zhang said. “China is too big, and has too many poor areas to get to 100 percent. That will never happen.”

The article, alas, continues the standard but incorrect practice of referring to “dialects” (as opposed to separate languages), though at least it did add this:

Linguists say some of the dialects are actually separate languages, but in China they are officially seen as dialects of a single Chinese language.

Significantly, however, that sentence was deleted from the version of the story posted on the Web site of the Shanghai Daily.

source: China gives up on speaking the lingo, Reuters, January 20, 2006

Chinese names, stroke counts, and fengshui

section of fortune-related chart for Chinese names

The Wall Street Journal has a story on how more and more people in China are seeking to change their names, usually based on “an ancient Chinese art” (i.e., traditional superstition).

The article repeatedly talks about this as if it were part of fengshui (風水 / 风水 / fēngshui). Coming up with a lucky name, however, traditionally belongs to fortune-telling, an entirely different field, though I suppose it’s possible that the two have become combined in modern China, where the traditional ways were broken.

One of the ways of determining whether a name is lucky is to determine the total stroke count of all the characters used to write it. For this, the full name is used, not just the given name. Then the stroke count is checked on a chart. (The image at right is from one such chart.) I like to think of this as a sort of Chinese gematria, though they’re not really related. (This brings to mind the gematria poems by Jerome Rothenberg, one of my favorite poets and translators.)

Fengshui, on the other hand, deals mainly with the arrangement and interrelationship of physical objects. The uses of fengshui are many. In addition to providing approaches to interior design and related fields, it can also be used to protect train stations from the baneful influence of a “white tiger demon” and protect ruling-party politicians and their families from county council buildings.

A brief note here on how the word fengshui is written. Here is how several major English dictionaries style the word:

  • MW11: feng shui
  • OED: feng-shui
  • AHD: feng shui

There’s no particular reason, however, for it not to be written solid (i.e., fengshui), which is how it is properly written in Hanyu Pinyin.

For a detailed and sympathetic account of fengshui as practiced in colonial Hong Kong, see Foreigners and Fung Shui (3.4 MB PDF file), by Dan Waters, Journal of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, Vol. 34 (1994), 61 pp.

source: For some Chinese, success in life is in the name, Wall Street Journal, Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Chinese literacy

I remain amazed by how many people are willing to take China’s official statistics at face value. Yet news story after news story refers to China’s supposed high literacy rate.

If you know any Chinese characters, try to see how many of the following items you can pronounce. (But even if you don’t know any Chinese characters, please keep reading.) The pronunciation needn’t be in Mandarin if you speak another Sinitic language. Moreover, if you aren’t sure how to pronounce some characters but know the meaning of the word nonetheless, give yourself full credit for that item anyway. Characters following a slash are, of course, “simplified” forms.

  1. 一萬 / 一万
  2. 姓名
  3. 糧食 / 粮食
  4. 函數 / 函数
  5. 肆虐
  6. 雕琢
  7. 彳亍
  8. 舛謬 / 舛谬
  9. 耆耄
  10. 饕餮

Scroll down for the answers and more information.

For reference, I have added the frequency of the characters used. Once past the 3,000 or so most frequently used characters, however, figures for frequency of use are difficult to come by and relatively unreliable because these characters are relatively infrequent. Of course, this doesn’t mean these can be ignored completely, because they do still occur and, at present, Chinese orthography doesn’t allow for the insertion of Hanyu Pinyin into a string of characters the way furigana or other non-kanji scripts can be used in Japanese.

If your score fell short of 10, perhaps you’d like to know that the median for PRC university graduates was 6.

Characters Pinyin English % not responding
correctly
frequency of 1st character frequency of 2nd character
一萬 yīwàn ten thousand 19.1 2 209
姓名 xìngmíng full name 22.3 1,025 137
糧食 liángshi grain; cereals; food 23.6 1,086 527
函數 hánshù function (math) 50.9 2,236 229
肆虐 sìnüè ravage; devastate; be rampant 65.8 2,460 c. 3,000
雕琢 diāozhuó cut and polish (jade/etc.); carve; write in an ornate style 62.0 1,919 2,511
彳亍 chìchù walk slowly 98.6 X X
舛謬 chuǎnmiù error; mishap 98.3 X 2,560
耆耄 qímào octogenarian 98.3 X X
饕餮 tāotiè a mythical ferocious animal; fierce and cruel person; a glutton; sb. of insatiable cupidity 99.4 X X

These were used in a test of literacy in the PRC that was part of a 1996 “stratified national probability sample” of some 6,000 adults ages 20-69. Care was taken in the selection of those interviewed, so that “for all practical purposes, we have representative national samples of China’s rural and urban populations,” according to Donald J. Treiman, who gives the results of this study in The Growth and Determinants of Literacy in China. For more on this study, which was a monumental undertaking, see Treiman’s Life Histories and Social Change in Contemporary China: Provisional Codebook. UCLA has made available much of the data for the study.

The selection of words, alas, was not particularly good, especially the choice of so many items from Literary Sinitic (classical Chinese). At least three of the final four words should have been tossed out in favor of more examples within the 2,000 or 3,000 most commonly used characters. Nevertheless, the data can be used to provide hints of the true extent of illiteracy in China.

In 1996 China’s adult literacy rate (15+) was about 85 percent, according to Beijing. (The age range for literacy in China is not always clear. Sometimes it refers to all adults. Sometimes it doesn’t include the elderly, whose rate of illiteracy is much higher than those born more recently. Sometimes it excludes everyone born before the founding of the PRC on October 1, 1949. And sometimes other limits are used.) The threshold for literacy was recognition of 1,500 characters for a rural inhabitant, and 2,000 characters for a “worker or staff member employed by an enterprise or institution or any urban resident.” (One country, two literacy thresholds?) (As most students of Mandarin could note, 1,500 characters isn’t going to provide anything resembling full literacy. Far too many characters in texts will be unknown, and far too little of a native speaker’s vocabulary will be unwritable with just 1,500 characters — in stark contrast to literacy through Pinyin, which would be easier to obtain and far more complete.) Moreover, literates were to be able to “read popular magazines and essays, to keep simple accounts, and to write simple essays.” Yet at the same time some one-fifth of China’s adult population could not recognize even such common and simple words as yiwan as written in extremely common and relatively simple Chinese characters (一万). Moreover, the characters in 姓名 (xìngmíng) and 糧食 (liángshi) are also well within the 1,500 most frequently used characters and should thus be known by all literate Chinese. The cumulative figure for those unable to identify all the characters given within the 1,500 minimum (for rural inhabitants) is 24 percent (see table below). That speaks of a literacy rate no greater than 76 percent, which is considerably less than the 85 percent the government was claiming.

Number of Correct Responses Percentage Cumulative Percentage
0 19.0 19.0
1 3.0 22.0
2 2.0 24.0
3 23.2 47.2
4 12.6 59.8
5 11.7 71.5
6 25.1 96.6
7 2.2 98.8
8 .7 99.5
9 .4 99.9
10 .1 100.0

A couple more factors need to be considered. First, Treiman’s study took roughly equal samples from China’s rural and urban populations (3,087 urban residents and 3,003 rural residents). But in 1996 about 75 percent of China’s population lived in rural areas, where literacy tends to be significantly lower than in the cities:

Relative to those who at age 14 had rural hukou status and resided in a village, those with urban hukou status residing in cities would be expected, on average, to be eight percentile points higher on the literacy scale. That is, the difference between the two extreme residential circumstances for otherwise similar people is the equivalent of about 1.6 years of schooling. (Treiman, p. 9)

Thus, because the relatively literate urban population is overrepresented, the literacy figure needs to be adjusted down from the 76 percent given earlier. (Sorry, I’m not much good at the math of adjusting sampling rates, so I’ll give a rough figure.) So now it’s at, say, 72 percent, which would give an illiteracy rate about twice as high as China was claiming (and which I think still underestimates the difference between “literacy” in the cities and the countryside). But the picture is still more bleak.

Another factor that cannot be overlooked is that real literacy, even by China’s own limited definition, requires the ability to write, not just read. Remembering how to write Chinese characters accurately, however, is much more difficult than the already difficult task of being able to recognize at least 1,500 of them passively. With this in mind, even doubling the illiteracy rate would not be extreme, I believe. This would yield an actual literacy rate below 50 percent.

Although this method leaves much to be desired, I believe its results better represent reality than official figures.

Literacy has been measured in China primarily according to the quantity of characters recognized (known) by an individual, normally 1,500 characters for rural dwellers and 2,000 characters for urban residents and rural leaders. These measures are not verified directly during a national census. Rather, survey teams note educational attainment and check illiteracy-eradication certificates. County level education departments or work units (danwei) are responsible for assessing through surveys or tests the literacy of and awarding literacy certificates to individuals who have not completed the fourth grade of six-year primary school, the third grade of five-year primary school, or an intensive primary school. — China Country Study, n. 5

Thus, the completion of as little as three years of primary school is enough to get someone listed automatically as literate, regardless of their actual literacy. Although that might be good enough to serve as a measure of basic literacy in a language that uses an alphabet, it isn’t when dealing with Chinese characters, which not only take many years to learn but also require a great deal of reinforcement through practice lest the learner lapse back into illiteracy. Other people are listed as being literate based on possession of an illiteracy-eradication certificate. These certificates, however, are awarded by authorities at the county level or at a person’s danwei; inflation of figures at the local or danwei levels, however, is common; the reasons for this can be summed up as “Individuals worry about punishment, officials worry about performance assessment, and enterprises worry about additional charges.”

(For an excellent look at how state planning and the use of statistics tend to become perverted under certain systems, see Dictatorship, State Planning, and Social Theory in the German Democratic Republic, by Peter C. Caldwell of Rice University. No, this doesn’t have anything to do with literacy or China, but many aspects of socialist planning in the former East Germany were the same as in the PRC.)

Before I close this unusually long post, I’d like to return for a moment to the characters in the literacy quiz. Note the approximate number of strokes in the various characters. Having only a few strokes doesn’t necessarily make a Chinese character “easy” to know. 彳and 亍 have but three stokes each, while 糧 and 食 have a total of 27. Yet more than 50 times as many people could identify the latter pair than the former one. The so-called simplification of Chinese characters did not, and could not, make Chinese characters simple to know or use.

A few words on the China Country Study cited above. This uses official (i.e., inflated and otherwise inaccurate) figures from the PRC. But it covers a wide enough range to be quite useful. It also has a very good bibliography of English sources. But all those pages about literacy — this is a long report — and not even a mention of how damn much trouble Chinese characters are. And essentially nothing about pinyin, either. Very strange.

Here’s its table of contents:

  1. Introduction: A Snapshot of Literacy and Illiteracy in China
  2. Literacy and Illiteracy in the Chinese Context: Historical and Contemporary Patterns of Literacy Provision
    • A Chronology of Literacy Policy, Definitions and Practice: 1905-2005
      • 1905-1949: Literacy for Saving, Securing, and Strengthening China
      • 1949-1976: Language Reform, Literacy for Collectivization and Production, and the Unequal Expansion of Schooling
      • 1978-1988: Literacy and the Modernization Decade: “Blocking, Eradicating, and Raising”
      • 1988-2005: Literacy for and Assimilation of the Margins
  3. Minority Nationalities, Languages, and Literacy
  4. Remaining Barriers to Literacy for All
  5. Trends in Literacy and Illiteracy Across Regional and Rural-Urban Divides and Across Gender, Ethnicity, Income, and Disability
    • Literacy and Gender
    • Literacy and national minority populations
    • Literacy and disabled populations
    • A Rough Check on the Taken-for-Granted Mathematics of Chinese Literacy
  6. Conclusion: Future Outlook and Challenges for Literacy in China
  7. Bibliography

If you’d like references other than in the study above, Barend ter Haar has compiled an annotated bibliography on literacy, writing and education in Chinese culture.

And, finally, John DeFrancis has some important things to say on this topic in The Chinese Language: Fact and Fantasy, especially the chapter “The Successfulness Myth.”

PRC publications on education

The PRC’s official China Education and Research Network (Zhōngguó Jiàoyù hé Kēyán Jìsuànjī Wǎng) has recently placed online several editions of the Zhōngguó Jiàoyù Niánjiàn (Chinese Education Yearbook):

Little to no English here, sorry. But there is some useful information to be found amid the usual governmentese and adulation of high-ranking officials.