respect characters pavilions

photo of 'pavilion' used for burning paper with writing on it
Meinong (美濃鎮), a township in Taiwan’s Gaoxiong County, holds a ceremony on the ninth day of each year according to the traditional luni-solar calendar to mark respect for the written word and ask the gods to bless the area, especially its farms. Meinong is traditionally a Hakka region.

In the ceremony, items such as old books that might normally be thrown away are instead burned in special structures known as jing zi ting (敬字亭 / [zūn]jìng [Hàn]zì tíng[zi] / “respect characters pavilions”), also known as xizi ting (xīzì tíng[zi] / “treat written paper with respect pavilions”). These structures, which are officially recognized as important cultural relics, date back to the latter half of the eighteenth century. The ashes are combined with the ashes of other written-word items burned over the previous year in the jing zi ting and, after various fanfare, ceremonially dumped in the local river.

This is related to the notion of jìngxī zìzhǐ (敬惜字紙/敬惜字纸 — “cherish paper with writing on it”).

This year, related activities included a contest to see which children would be the fastest to find certain characters in the dictionary. Such contests are not uncommon in Taiwan, where looking up something in a dictionary can be a real chore.

sources:

And here are some genizah (גניזה)-related links for lagniappe:

Taiwan’s first written language — in romanization

About 80 percent of the “Sinkang Manuscripts” (新港文書) have been deciphered in the ongoing collaboration project between Academia Sinica‘s Institute of Taiwan History and Institute of History and Philology. These documents, in the language of the Siraya people, were written in a romanization system devised by the Dutch colonists in Taiwan in the seventeenth century. Although the Dutch were forced out of Taiwan in the 1660s, writing in this system continued for at least 150 years.

The name Siraya, however, has been applied to the people of that group only since the period of Japanese rule (1895-1945). It was derived from the group’s pronunciation of the word for “I.” The documents get their name from Sinkang Sia, the largest Siraya settlement near the Dutch stronghold Fort Zeelandia.

click for an image of the first page of the Book of Matthew in SirayaMost of the documents are records of land contracts and business transactions. Some are bilingual: in Siraya and Dutch, or Siraya and Chinese. One long bilingual document is a translation by the Dutch of the Book of Matthew.

One of the articles cited below states, “The orthography of the Sinkang Manuscripts also embodies a vestige of 17th-century Europe where the italic style of lettering was still unknown in Dutch and Germanic writings.” This sample, however, makes me wonder. Any paleographers or font specialists out there?

The manuscripts also show that some words were borrowed from Hoklo, the Sinitic language now often referred to as Taiwanese

a transcript of a Siraya document: transcript of bilingual Siraya, Chinese document

sources:

change to international year system up to public: Taiwan official

Late last month Taiwan’s premier came out in favor of switching from the ROC dating system (under which this is the year 95, just like in North Korea, though for different reasons) to the international system (2006). (See Taiwan premier backs adoption of common years and Taiwan’s Y1C problem.) Now a Cabinet spokesman has said the resolution of the issue is up to public opinion.

The ruling Democratic Progressive Party is reaping some of the troubles it set up for itself by pushing for Tongyong Pinyin. It’s going to have a harder time arguing for the need for internationalization after its opposition to Hanyu Pinyin, the international system for the romanization of Mandarin. On the other hand, KMT Chairman Ma Ying-jeou has some problems of his own. He has voiced opposition to the change, even though one of his favorite words at least used to be “internationalization.” It certainly was when he announced that Taipei, of which he serves as mayor, would use Hanyu Pinyin.

For a good idea how bad the China Post (published in Taiwan) is, have a look at its biased, sloppy coverage of this. This is also a good reflection of how bad many of the local Mandarin-language newspapers are, because this piece is not original to the China Post but, like most of that newspaper’s content, is a translation.

Few people are opposed to the change, if it does not entail another huge wasteful government spending.

For one thing, all the banknotes bearing the Republic of China calendar have to be destroyed and new ones issued.

At least NT$1 billion has to be spent to change all the ID cards the government is requiring to change until the end of this year.

“Why not forget about it?” asked the observers in a unanimous consensus.

Pathetic.

Old banknotes can be grandfathered in. They’ll eventually be removed from circulation anyway. ID cards also need to be replaced from time to time; this year’s replacement of cards is the first in about 15 years. Most officials agree this is far too long; thus, the next replacement won’t be so far off. And as for what the government uses on its own internal documents — that’s a very different matter than what is used to give product-expiration dates or set banking software.

In Japan, to what extent is the imperial dating system used?

source:

one woman’s writing in ‘symbolic code’

A 70-year-old woman in Tainan, Taiwan, who can read relatively few Chinese characters has reportedly come up with her own “symbolic code” for writing the words to songs. I’d love to see it. Unfortunately, however, she is “afraid others might laugh” and so covers all her writing with white-out once she has memorized the song.

Tainan great-grandmother Lin Li Yuda, 70, wanted to learn some songs, but unfortunately she could not read. But she was determined to do so anyway, and now, eight years later, she has memorized over 100 songs and can flawlessly recall the words to even the longest of folk songs, which can run to 1700 words or more.

Lin worked as a laborer in the construction industry before retiring, carrying bricks and cement. Even this tough labor could not bow her. Eight years ago, she began to weaken, and decided to retire. She now works as a volunteer at the Nanhua Community. Lin heard that singing was good for exercising the abdomen and had other health benefits, so she began to learn songs from other elderly people.

Lin was illiterate, however, and the songbooks her teachers passed out were incomprehensible to her. She could only follow the sounds the others made. But Lin was not ready to give up. She thought long and hard, and came up with an idea: she would learn to write the songs down.

After she began, the whole world was Lin’s singing teacher. Now, whenever she has a moment, she grabs her songbook and asks people to recite the words to her one by one. At her age, her memory is not as good as it used to be, and sometimes she has to ask about a word several times. Lin says that at the beginning, she felt embarrassed about her shortcomings, but everyone was very patient with her, and willingly repeated the lyrics again and again until she learned them.

By relying only on learning from others, however, Lin was unable to remember the songs. So Lin took to making notes beside the words using her own “symbolic code.” Quite often, a song sheet of Lin’s will be a forest of red symbols. When she has learned the song, Lin quickly covers her notes with white-out, because, she says shamefacedly, she is “afraid others might laugh.”

Over the past eight years, Lin has memorized over 100 songs, and knows each one practically word for word….

The most difficult thing for Lin is songs with foreign words in them. One song, “The Butterfly Maid of Nagasaki,” has the Japanese phrase “chocho san” in it, and this nearly tripped Lin up. She says that the person who taught her the song had to repeat it many times before she mastered it. In fact, even Lin’s great-grandson, who is now in primary school, can act as her teacher. When she meets a character she doesn’t know, she rushes to ask someone so that she can make a note….

source: Illiterate great-grandmother memorizes songs using unique symbols, Taiwan Headlines translation of a story from United Daily News, February 23, 2006

pigpen principles

Newspapers and magazines have so much misinformation about Chinese characters that I seldom bother to mention specific instances. But I expect better than this from the New York Times, even though this is but soft news:

The two designers chose 20 stellar examples of a concept defined by the Japanese ideogram katei. It is the joining of two symbols — ka being house and tei being garden — that defines home in Japanese.

Oy. First, katei is not written with one “ideogram” [sic] but two Chinese characters / kanji:

家庭

(Somebody help me out if I got that wrong. I don’t know Japanese.) In Mandarin this is jiātíng, meaning “family.” Nishikawa Yūko has a long discussion about notions of katei in “The Modern Japanese Family System: unique or universal?” (Multicultural Japan. Palaeolithic to Postmodern. Donald Denoon, Mark Hudson, Gavan McCormack, and Tessa Morris-Suzuki, eds. Cambridge University Press, pp. 224-232).

Second, Chinese characters / kanji do not represent an ideographic form of writing.

Third, the Japanese language is not defined by symbols. Language comes first, writing later.

Fourth, calling Chinese characters “symbols” is at best problematic; this is part of what feeds the ideographic myth. (See the second point.)

I’m all for good design, but it shouldn’t be explained in terms of myths. Otherwise, perhaps architects and interior designers should be putting functioning pigpens inside houses, or at least a little covered shrine to a pig. After all, if we’re going to be guided by how characters look, is not the very essence of “home” (家) in Japan and China defined by having a pig (豕) under a roof (宀)?

source: Homes and Gardens, Living in Harmony, New York Times, March 9, 2006

Unicode in Japan

No-sword links to an interesting page titled Unicode in Japan: Guide to a technical and psychological struggle. There’s a lot of useful information in this.

The Web page also touches some on script reform in postwar Japan; for the full story, see Literacy and Script Reform in Occupation Japan: Reading Between the Lines, by J. Marshall Unger. Pinyin Info offers a chapter-long selection from this book.

Other pages on that site include a Unicode tutorial, which is billed as “a page of Unicode terms, FAQs, and mistakes.”

My pet peeve about Unicode is its continuing, incorrect reference to Chinese characters as “ideographs.”

more on the Aborigine names and ID cards

Another article:

以恢復原住民傳統姓名為宗旨的籐文化協會今天指出,最近推動復名時發現,身分證、戶籍謄本等戶政系統尚未全面進行版本更新,讓復名作業仍舊困難重重。

籐文化協會常務理事 Kaing Lipay (該映‧犁百,阿美族)下午表示,雖然新身分證為了配合原住民姓名已經在正面姓名欄位上作「放寬字數」、「並列羅馬拼音」的版更,但背面的父母欄、配偶欄卻未能配合放寬,且戶籍謄本上的姓名欄不但沒放寬字數,也不能加注羅馬拼音。

最奇怪的是,Kaing Lipay 說,現在羅馬拼音的名字在戶政系統上只能以「點」來區隔,這樣的方式未來在護照上將如何表現?護照上的名字以點區隔是其他國家所未見的,未來是否會有問題,希望有關單位能夠深入了解。

另外,Kaing Lipay 指出,原住民姓名欄位上有中文不得超過十五個字,英文不得超過二十個字母的限制,導致高雄縣三民鄉有一位男性民眾羅馬拼音長達二十字,其中無法再以加點的方式區隔,讓他非常苦惱,希望能再次復名。

但是,如果民眾因為行政作業疏失必須再次復名就會被計算為第二次改名,根據「姓名條例」規定一個人只能改名兩次,Kaing Lipay 說,這不是民眾的疏失,建議戶政單位能以「誤登」的方式處理,以免有損原住民復名的權益。

籐文化協會已接獲不少民眾反映,在進行恢復原住民傳統姓名作業時,依舊耗日費時,推究原因,Kaing Lipay 認為,戶政機關沒有一個「標準作業程序」,且缺乏全面配套措施,導致原住民復名困難重重。

Why on earth do reporters find it so hard to grasp that not everything written in an alphabet is “English”?

戶籍系統尚待更新 原住民復名作業困難重重, CNA, March 5, 2006

sign-language variants abound in China

Different signs are used in different parts of China. This is no surprise in itself, but it’s nice to see this reported in China. According to the article below, in Guangdong some 70 percent of the target audience for CCTV’s sign-language news are unable to understand the signs used on the show. Moreover, new signs are being created all the time.

Xiàmén gēn Quánzhōu de shǒuyǔ bù yīyàng, gēn Shànghǎi de shǒuyǔ yě bù yīyàng, gègè dìfang de shǒuyǔ dōu yǒu gèzì de tèdiǎn.

Xiàmén tèxiào jiàoyánshì fùzhǔrèn Huáng Zǒngzhì shuō, bǐfang “zuò zuòyè”, Xiàménrén shì liǎng ge quántou shàng-xià bǐhua, érhòu yòushǒu shǒuzhǐ héngfàng zài zuǒshǒu shǒuzhǎng xià, gòuchéng yī ge “yè” (业) zì; Quánzhōurén zéshì liǎngshǒu bǐhua yèpiàn de xíngzhuàng. Guǎngzhōu lóngyǎrén duì “xìngzāilèhuò” de dútè biǎodá shì gēbo jiājǐn, liǎng zhī xiǎo bì xiàngshàng wānqū wòquán, yǒushíhou huì bèi [cuò]wù rènwéi gēbo bù shūfu.

Zài rú “Pānyú” yī cí de dǎfǎ tōngcháng shì Pīnyīn dǎfǎ, ér Guǎngzhōurén zé dǎ “dà fānshǔ” de xiàngxíng, yīnwèi Pānyú shèngchǎn dà fānshǔ.

Jùxī, Guǎngdōng qī chéng lóngyǎrén kànbudǒng Yāng-Shì [i.e., CCTV] de “shǒuyǔ xīnwén”, Xiàmén yòng de shì quánguó tōngxíng de biāozhǔn shǒuyǔ, dànshì Xiàmén de lóngyǎrén chángcháng wúfǎ lǐjiě wàidì shǒuyǔ. Huáng zhǔrèn shuō, měi nián de xīn cíhuì bùduàn chūxiàn, gè dì de xíguàn yòu yǒu bùtóng, yīxiē shǒuyǔ lǎoshī hé lóngyǎrén bùdébù zìjǐ chuàngzào xīn de biǎodá fāngshì. Zhèxiē xīn fāngshì tōngguò miànbù biǎoqíng hé qítā fǔzhù xìng de dòngzuò, jiāoliú de shuāngfāng hěn kuài jiù huì shúxī.

source: Shǒuyǔ yěyǒu fāngyán, Xiàmén Wǎnbào, March 6, 2006