tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64152482405187279072024-02-06T18:20:14.920-08:00Sing, Beijing.以乐 轻描淡写Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-62027118727878760892012-01-22T14:51:00.000-08:002012-01-22T15:10:55.636-08:00A poem for the Year of the Dragon<div>This is the first year that I've celebrated three new years, from the typical Gregorian (watching fireworks under the Big Ben) to the Old Orthodox (courtesy of my Russian friend) and the traditional Lunar. I couldn't find any decent stock phrases that really epitomized what I think of when I think of dragons, so I just wrote a poem to commemorate the year of the water dragon. The translation is rough (it rings a little better in four character cadences), but hope you get the message.</div><div><br /></div><div>從今不肯 守株待兔</div><div>要龍至門 必志荀言</div><div>積水成淵 蛟龍生焉</div><div>人人事多 如濤之沙</div><div>未必而去 如沙之散</div><div>今行水也 故趁其力</div><div>透君之沙 使强於干</div><div>然為龍神 至人心道</div><div>祝親祝友 無悔之年</div><div>龍年快樂 萬事如意</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't wait for the rabbit by the stump anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let the words of Xunzi guide the dragon to you:</div><div>'Deep in collected water, the jiaolong lives.'</div><div><br /></div><div>Our problems multiply like sand on the beach</div><div>Unfinished, abandoned, like scattered beads</div><div><br /></div><div>Let Water guide you - use its strength </div><div>Hold your sand together, connected and united </div><div><br /></div><div>This is how dragons enter human souls</div><div><br /></div><div>I wish my friends and family a year of no regrets</div><div>A happy year of the dragon - may you attain all that you wish.</div><div><br /></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-91587329300516181182011-04-01T21:43:00.001-07:002011-04-01T21:58:24.110-07:00Fear-laden thoughts on travelingWith the recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan, civil unrest in the Middle East and North Africa, and economic stagnancy throughout the world, I must confess that I have been growing more fearful, more insular, more quiet, and feeling less adventurous. Tonight, however, I came across an <a href="http://travel.nytimes.com/2011/04/03/travel/03Cover.html">essay</a> in the New York Times by Paul Theroux on the importance of travel. One passage stood out to me: <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px; ">But the prevailing quality of war is not noise or gunfire. It is suspense, something like boredom; nothing happens for long periods and then everything happens at once in indescribable confusion.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px; "><br /></span></div><div>News media today repeats itself so many times through multiple syndicates that it seems we skim over the articles in search of change and ultimately lose track of time. We associate more content with more time. Ten articles on Colonel Qaddafi from papers including the Washington Post, the Christian Science Monitor, and the San Francisco Chronicle must mean that this event happened during and filled up all those hours that we weren't glued to News Google. </div><div>That's not true. Those articles simply compound the "indescribable confusion" within our minds, which depend on the phantasmagoria of pictures to fill the imagination void that we fear filling up with real experience.</div><div>Of course, if everyone acted as Theroux had, then those who lack his common sense will inevitably face all sorts of ridiculous perils and sadnesses that seem newsworthy. (Maybe the world will be better off without them.)</div><div>The "laborious" kind of traveling, the kind that feels like work, the Joseph Conrad brand - the work that you hate but makes you "find yourself" - that's to travel. </div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-52623525318264475312011-02-16T16:08:00.000-08:002011-02-16T16:21:26.679-08:00Goo goo ga ga: Early Language Acquisition<!--copy and paste--><object height="326" width="446"><param name="movie" value="http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><param name="bgColor" value="#ffffff"> <param name="flashvars" value="vu=http://video.ted.com/talks/dynamic/PatriciaKuhl_2010X-medium.flv&su=http://images.ted.com/images/ted/tedindex/embed-posters/PatriciaKuhl-2010X.embed_thumbnail.jpg&vw=432&vh=240&ap=0&ti=1075&introDuration=15330&adDuration=4000&postAdDuration=830&adKeys=talk=patricia_kuhl_the_linguistic_genius_of_babies;year=2010;theme=new_on_ted_com;theme=a_taste_of_tedx;theme=how_the_mind_works;theme=words_about_words;event=TEDxRainier;&preAdTag=tconf.ted/embed;tile=1;sz=512x288;"><embed src="http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf" pluginspace="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" bgcolor="#ffffff" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" flashvars="vu=http://video.ted.com/talks/dynamic/PatriciaKuhl_2010X-medium.flv&su=http://images.ted.com/images/ted/tedindex/embed-posters/PatriciaKuhl-2010X.embed_thumbnail.jpg&vw=432&vh=240&ap=0&ti=1075&introDuration=15330&adDuration=4000&postAdDuration=830&adKeys=talk=patricia_kuhl_the_linguistic_genius_of_babies;year=2010;theme=new_on_ted_com;theme=a_taste_of_tedx;theme=how_the_mind_works;theme=words_about_words;event=TEDxRainier;" height="326" width="446"></embed></object><br /><br />A TED video on how babies love language. "It takes a human being - not a TV, not just audio - for a baby to take statistics to learn a language."Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-87399545310571787682011-01-31T11:10:00.000-08:002011-01-31T11:30:25.501-08:00Pacifiers and Rattles - To Learn Languages, Start Off as a Kid<div>I really enjoy reading Cal Newport's blog <i><a href="http://calnewport.com/blog">Study Hacks</a>. </i>He writes on effective strategies that high school, college and graduate students can use to improve their academic performance and stand out in the deepening sea of competition today. I went back through his older posts, and found out that he had compiled an entry <a href="http://calnewport.com/blog/2008/01/11/crowd-widsdom-how-study-hacks-readers-suggest-you-study-foreign-languages/">on studying foreign languages. </a></div><div><br /></div><div>The tips that Cal highlight are more applicable for students in academic institutions taking semester or year-long courses, but some are broad enough for any language enthusiast to employ. The second tip - "expose yourself everyday" - is a no-brainer. It doesn't just mean cracking open your old textbook and rememorizing set conversations - it can mean watching a movie or television show in the native language, or listening to a music through Youtube or Grooveshark. </div><div><br /></div><div>I believe in mastering languages according to one's linguistic age. What do I mean by that? Take, for example, a 40-year-old man learning Italian by reading formal conversations and newspaper clippings. The man will pick up phrases and vocabulary words here and there, and one day use them in a talk to give the listener a sense of his fluency. But this is superficial. If he really wanted to master Italian, he should start from scratch - I mean from children's books and short stories. Of course, you can accelerate through works that befit younger audiences to material more appropriate for your real age, but I think one important part of speaking a new language is to construct arguments and narratives as native speakers do. <b><i>There is a difference between speaking fluently and talking intelligently </i></b>- you can convey your intelligence by using foreign vocabulary too big for your mouth, but you can convey fluency by engaging native listeners with the imagination that they have created through exposure to local cultural media.</div><div><br /></div><div>Assume that when you start a new language, you are a child. What would native speakers of the language read in their infancy? </div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-67532064665625883312011-01-17T08:18:00.000-08:002011-01-27T08:33:20.872-08:00Benny the Polyglot<div>I think mistakes are good. In fact, I think studying languages is the best way to accumulate as many errors and slip-ups as possible. I'm not endorsing the pursuit of German or Chinese strictly for the sake of being an idiot. The mistakes you make at the risk of sounding idiotic, however, will eventually reap larger and larger dividends in your speaking ability.</div><div>Benny the Polyglot seems to disseminate the same idea, along with many other ideas on learning languages, on his website,<a href="http://www.fluentin3months.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/9b061-1024x768.jpg"> Fluent in 3 Months. </a>Benny started off with English, but expanded into Irish, French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and Esperanto (what?!). He is currently studying Tagalog. His tips on awakening your latent multilingual potential are wacky and unorthodox - if you've tried various methods to master some difficult tongue but still feel like a novice, consider some of his experience-tested remedies. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fluentin3months.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/9b061-1024x768.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1024px; height: 768px;" src="http://www.fluentin3months.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/9b061-1024x768.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">A personal note: All of the languages he learned are very similar (romantic languages, especially). I wonder if his reflections on acquiring languages will change if he leaves his linguistic comfort zone by studying something like Hungarian or Swahili.</div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-31537027184428916502010-12-23T08:01:00.000-08:002011-01-27T08:17:38.825-08:00Voxy: Learning English through the News<div><blockquote></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span">My mother's dream is to speak English as fluently as I do. I enjoyed teaching her during my few breaks back home, but after a while I started feeling tired. I was sick of reading through the textbooks that her awful ESL classes at the local community college forced her to labor through - what middle-aged student of English cares about the difference between past imperfect jibbers and future perfect jabbers? I started to amass different language learning sites mainly because I wanted my mother to use them and for me to remember them, but there was something flawed in those sites' curricula as well. They were teaching languages as systematically and academically as her textbooks. I wanted my mother to learn English as naturally as possible so that she could use it as quickly as possible.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Then I heard about <a href="http://voxy.com/">Voxy</a>. This is the pitch that its "About Us" says:</span></div><div><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; color: rgb(39, 37, 37); line-height: 22px; ">Voxy is about learning from what’s around you. From your life. Our unique bite-size language lessons use fresh, entertaining, topical content of your choosing, whether that be a story about your favorite team, some juicy gossip that just came out in the tabloids, or current events like politics and business. We then deliver these lessons to you wherever you want them, whether that is on your computer, in your email inbox, or via SMS. Finally, we make the quizzes, questions and practice fun, rewarding you along the way for becoming a better English speaker.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; color: rgb(39, 37, 37); line-height: 22px; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">I forwarded it to my mother immediately. (My mother has been grasping the basics of the computer, the Microsoft Office Suite, and the Internet.) She is testing it out now, but I think Vconcept is brilliant. For now, it focuses on ESL learners (like my mother!), but it plans to expand into another languages. I can't wait until Voxy provides learning tools for East European and Southeast Asian languages!</span></span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://voxy.com/static/images/voxy-logo-en.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 113px;" src="http://voxy.com/static/images/voxy-logo-en.png" border="0" alt="" /></a>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-35139619756798371262010-10-19T15:08:00.000-07:002010-10-19T15:22:31.552-07:0020 Awesomely Untranslatable Words from Around the World<a href="http://matadornetwork.com/abroad/20-awesomely-untranslatable-words-from-around-the-world/">http://matadornetwork.com/abroad/20-awesomely-untranslatable-words-from-around-the-world/</a><div><br /></div><div>Why do other languages sound more poetic and succinct than English? Either I haven't read enough English literature to lament appropriately, or the grass is always greener on the other side.</div><div><br /></div><div>I found the final two paragraphs of this article particularly relevant for all language learners. I've tried to answer this question as well in my blog - What does it mean to really learn a language? The author below borrows culinary verbs to express his frustrations on mastering different tongues, concluding that "time and emotion" are the critical factors to absorbing meaning in language. Vividly speaking, everything we learn demands a <b>period of percolation - </b>time for reflection and incorporation. Studying abroad creates this time for you. Abroad, you (hopefully) leave your multiple courses and extracurricular responsibilities to <i>focus</i> on one item alone - the language. The language will take you to places and to people unfathomable now, but perhaps that's what we study abroad for in the first place - to find visual associations to the words and grammar on our textbooks, and to allow them time to sink in. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><p style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: georgia, serif; line-height: 21px; ">"For myself, the hardest part about <a href="http://matadornetwork.com/focus/foreign-language-learning/" style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 68, 136); text-decoration: none; font-family: georgia, serif; line-height: 21px; font-weight: bold; ">learning a new language</a> isn’t so much getting acquainted with the translations of vocabulary and different grammatical forms and bases, but developing an inner reflex that responds to words’ texture, not their translated “ingredients”. When you hear the word “criminal” you don’t think of “one who commits acts outside the law,” but rather the feeling and mental imagery that comes with that word.</p><p style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: georgia, serif; line-height: 21px; ">Thus these words, while standing out due to our inability to find an equivalent word in out own language, should not be appreciated for our own words that we try to use to describe them, but for their own taste and texture. Understanding these words should be like eating the best slab of smoked barbequeued ribs: the enjoyment doesn’t come from knowing what the cook put in the sauce or the seasoning, but from the full experience that can only be created by time and emotion."</p></span></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-55644955804191759642010-07-24T02:13:00.001-07:002010-07-24T02:24:41.424-07:00Context and Meaninghttp://www.economist.com/blogs/johnson/2010/07/writing_chinese_ctd<br /><br />I'm not sure that the writer is drawing the right conclusions from Professor Mair's article. Yes, 622 characters make up 90% of Rickshaw Boy and, according to some, only 1500 characters make up 90% of major Chinese newspapers (even less in Chinese newspapers published outside of China), but that does not necessarily mean that memorizing those requisite characters will lead to 90% comprehension. To master a character, one has to see it in either every single context possible, or in its most common environments.<br /><br />Take the character 然 for example. Students of Professor Zhou's first year Chinese program at Yale will learn 忽然 or 当然, but the former is almost never used in colloquial Chinese whereas the latter is used in virtually any conversation that demands an affirmative declaration. Stepping higher into academic papers, students may come across rhetorical questions, such as 你以为然否?Walking back in time, we come across 然 used as the modern-day 是(yes) or 对(correct/right) in Mencius's treatises. Of course, knowing the meaning of the character is important - 然 means “like this, in this manner" - but learning definitions are useless without practicing the usages.<br /><br />At least based on my conversations with my friends, Chinese students don't strive to memorize every single character's usage, but feel for what characters frequently surround that character. In this sense, the 1000 or so characters that make up 10% of Rickshaw Boy are grouped and learned together with those 622 more common common characters.<br /><br />Learning Chinese takes time because mastery requires the observation of each character's various contexts. Sometimes, the connections are not obvious. Learning the word "is" and "are" in English doesn't mean that you know what will accompany those verbs all the time, but at least those words link the subject and object in a specific way. In Chinese, depending on what part of China you are in (and depending on what book you are reading - <em>Rickshaw Boy</em> was written when Mandarin was getting standardized), characters can take on various meanings<br /><br />你以为然否?Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-88685064297600951512010-07-16T00:40:00.000-07:002010-07-16T00:46:18.648-07:00Sealed Management - what????I had been slowly traveling through cities from Suzhou to Xiamen to Shenzhen, meeting and building relations with migrant writers. Up in Beijing, it seems that some migrant villages are experiencing what the Beijing government has called "sealed management" - in other words, curfew regulation. Quite possibly the most ridiculous piece of news on internal migrants I've read so far. I had to use a VPN Client to open these webpages - I have not seen an article on this "feng1 bi4 shi4 guan3 li3" published on Xinhua, China Daily, or any other domestic media.<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.epochtimes.com/gb/10/7/15/n2967021.htm">http://www.epochtimes.com/gb/10/7/15/n2967021.htm</a></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gDiiVrk8JJHVS4gIkB8AMDPmS4BgD9GV5ONO0">http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gDiiVrk8JJHVS4gIkB8AMDPmS4BgD9GV5ONO0</a></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-28487716000383028222010-06-27T01:00:00.000-07:002010-06-27T01:07:13.583-07:00Migrant Beats: Observations on a Slow Train<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVyv-HOIh4bUxbpuq1NCwSgXcWpO1uEB85q4jIcmj-y9ZBoSzPEVgzl_97mmE7q-y0_bVraW1zFz1ATeTseraA9YqK1j-cQRz1gXDCnsLYgnUxA60q5kyQAc8BkiLYYzpuz4wKpAE4vuHL/s320/IMG_0858.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487360990527377330" /><p class="MsoNormal">There are four classes on a typical train in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region> – the soft bed (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">ruanwo</i>), the hard bed (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">yingwo</i>), the soft seat (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">ruanzuo</i>), and the hard seat (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">yingzuo</i>). The soft isn’t as soft it could be, and the hard isn’t as dreary as its lower price suggests. The Lonely Planet quotes most of its train prices by hardbed prices because the soft beds and seats have to be reserved sometimes several months in advance, preparation that most intrepid travelers do not want to do. Not that I’m brave or think very far into the future. I</p><p class="MsoNormal"> did buy my train ticket to <st1:city st="on">Suzhou</st1:city> as soon as I got to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Beijing</st1:place></st1:city>, and found two <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">yingzuo </i>tickets, one on a slow train (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">manche</i>) for 88 RMB and the other for 700 RMB taking a seemingly aerial time of less than 12 hours. I wasn’t in any hurry to arrive in <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Suzhou</st1:city></st1:place>, so I bought the former.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I passed through railway station security and found my seat with time to spare. The night before, a friend in <st1:city st="on">Beijing</st1:city> kept on warning me I should lie that I lived in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Liaoning</st1:place></st1:state> or some northeastern province should any fellow passenger curiously ask my origins. “It’s for your safety – those <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">yingzuo</i> can be full of sketchy people,” he said. I was pleasantly surprised to find seating in my booth instead three old ladies on their way home to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Jinan</st1:place></st1:city>, a high school teacher, and just one teenager who carried a punkish air of rebellion that I was instructed to watch out for. After a few greetings, everyone slowly settled into states of hibernation seen only on long train rides in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">China</st1:country-region></st1:place>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzD6EVq_J5H_5RSY2kkH_9eYLyhkwtd3AKSV418lOFfw3CDLsq84oHO4HRS7Z0f2OnLjR_RgPZxHB4Hy4XlnT7F9v_J6WIAD4eSF98hmJjSFNxVaMUDH1ZWfj_qHRr5oGL9t5kSGnM2BPa/s320/IMG_0857.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487361539207868322" /><p class="MsoNormal">Some immediately broke out their snacks of apples, cucumbers, sausages, breads, ramen noodles and sunflower seeds. Some fiddled with their cell phones or handheld Playstation players. Some just looked outside at passing trees, factories and railroad tracks. Some struck up conversations – parents on their children’s education, elders on gifts of medicine and sweet delicacies for their family back home, students on their summer plans, migrant workers on the increasingly stifling summer heat. Electric fans hanging overhead buzzed forth pockets of cool air. The sun eventually rendered all eyes droopy, and heads rested on small booth tables and strangers’ shoulders. Besides the occasional click of some cell phone or whimper of a hidden baby, the train fell silent.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">An hour later, the hibernation resumed. Aromas of salty noodle soups filled the cramped train car, sliced by frequent slurps and burps. A few returned to sleep, content from the warmth of the soup in their bellies and of the sun on their skin. The man next to me sighed while enviously observing a couple of kids playing card games. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Xiaomo shiguang</i>,” he said, “why is it so hard to burn time on a train…” The elderly grandmother trio in my booth chuckled.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The man turned his attention to me. “Where are you going?” he asked.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“<st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Suzhou</st1:place></st1:city>,” I replied.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Ooh, that sucks. Are you going back home?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“No, just to see a few people and take in the sights.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I see. Where are you from?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Um,” I paused. “The northeast.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Really? Which province?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“<st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Liaoning</st1:place></st1:state>.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Interesting. What were you doing in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Beijing</st1:place></st1:city>?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I’m in college.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Which one?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Tsinghua.” (Well, this was true, when I was still attending IUP.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Whoa, one of our national geniuses. What are you studying?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“English.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Whoa! That’s a good major. I have a kid in high school who…”</p> <div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.5pt; padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext 1.5pt; padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in">I’ll end this pointless dialogue of lies here. </p> </div> <p class="MsoNormal">There is another class that I forgot to mention. The cheap standing ticket offers some sort of spot on the train, whether in the smoking sections between the train cars, a crouched space on the ground, or a lucky seat departed by a passenger. I woke up sometime around nine in the evening to find new personalities all around me, including a corpulent teenager to tired middle-aged man searching for a comfortable sleeping position on the way down south. In other booths and on the car floor, unfamiliar faces sat munching on ramen noodles. Many took off their shirts and rolled up their pant legs to allow more of their sweat to catch some sort of breeze. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We’re still twelve hours away from <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Suzhou</st1:city></st1:place>.</p> <div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border-top:solid windowtext 1.5pt; border-left:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.5pt;border-right:none; padding:1.0pt 0in 1.0pt 0in"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-top-alt:solid windowtext 1.5pt; mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext 1.5pt;padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:1.0pt 0in 1.0pt 0in">We are now at <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Nanjing</st1:place></st1:city>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Changjiang</i> swirls below.</p> </div> <div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.5pt; padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext 1.5pt; padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;mso-border-between:1.5pt solid windowtext; mso-padding-between:1.0pt">Agh, almost got off at <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Wuxi</st1:city></st1:place> in my drowsy hurriedness!</p> </div> <p class="MsoNormal">Never again.</p>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-6661442748359440342010-06-21T22:57:00.000-07:002010-06-25T00:12:08.951-07:00Migrant Beats: Skin Village<div style="text-align: left;">“Where’s bus number 641?” Fangrong asked himself as he glanced through the bus schedule plates. We arrived at this bus station after pulling out a complicated list of directions from Sanyuanqiao to Picun. A street cleaner in an orange jumpsuit passed by. “Excuse me, is this where take 641?” I asked.</div> <p class="MsoNormal">“641? 641…It’ll come,” the street cleaner replied, not looking up from the pile of dust he swept into</p><p class="MsoNormal"> this portable dustbin.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But there’s no sign here,” says Fangrong.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“It’ll come.”</p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HBx99QdIfNqbi0Z6wjRp_evt0V0kykF2VGdIiQyMafB6mxT5GRFwEiSbqHofpvuQwTePkhyphenhyphenm_P4ZDKaSKCTRo-09ubDjnXBlEemm7ZBk_S8pErYQRznHN6u_jtFwbdFQ3U01kwtfLgx_/s320/IMG_0811.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486600410867314098" /> <p class="MsoNormal">Twenty minutes later, the mystery bus actually came. Past the fourth and fifth ring roads in the northeast of Chaoyang near the border of <st1:city st="on">Beijing</st1:city> and Tongzhou, it took us to a small country stop called Picun, literally <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Skin</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Village</st1:placetype></st1:place>. At the stop, the assistant curator and manager of the museum, Mr. Zheng Zhixi, awaited us. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Get in this van and it’ll take you directly to the museum,” he said, handing the driver a small</p><p class="MsoNormal"> bill. “I’ll follow behind on my bike.” He walked over to a pink and white bike parked in front a barley field. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The van stopped at a small neatly paved square with buildings colored with paint drawings done by children’s fingers. The Beijing Migrant Arts and <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Culture</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Museum</st1:placetype></st1:place>, as I found it online, was more peaceful and less-visited than its pictures suggested. Mr. Zheng opened the museum door. A wave of trapped stale air went up my nose. The artifacts and documents spread throughout the exhibition quickly aroused my attention and ignore the dead scent. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The museum seeks to cover the history of the migrant worker, from its identity as the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">nongmin</i> (farmer), to the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">nongmingong</i> (rural migrant worker) and finally the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">xingongren</i> (the new</p><p class="MsoNormal"> worker). It started from the establishment of the household responsibility system in 1981 and the development of the special economic zones in the south, and fades into a bittersweet conclusion on the current hardships that new workers face through discussions on recent grassroots NGO development and changes in Chinese labor laws. I tried to take pictures of letters written by migrants to their factory bosses that they promise never to be late and work hard even after lasting through 22-hour shifts, but Mr. Zheng prevented me doing so. Instead, I bought the museum’s periodical, aptly titled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Xin Gong Ren</i>, and a qualitative/quantitative survey called “Research Report on Migrant Workers’ Residential Status and Future Perspectives.” The poetry contained in the periodical will be pertinent later on. The research report seems more relevant for those inclined to a social science essay, but it still contains valuable details on migrant life.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The basic layout of most migrant villages is similar. A grand gate with the village name in flowing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">xingshu</i> calligraphy stands before a long road of small produce and butcher shops, clothing stands and secondhand electronics stores. Branching off from the main artery, vessels and veins of brick and cement houses that are hot during the summer and cold during the winter form a surveyor’s nightmare. Open waste containers piled with garbage and feces rot under the <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Beijing</st1:place></st1:city> sun. And, even though the villages are all set to be demolished within two to three years, landlords continue to build houses and offices.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“The local landlords get compensated by the government for every usable square meter that is taken,” explained Mr. Zheng. “If they build, then the extra floors of usable space a</p><p class="MsoNormal">lso count. That’s why the walls are so thin – to maximize space. It costs about 500 RMB to build something per square meter, and compensation is around 1000 to 1200 RMB per square meter per floor… it’s a destructible investment.”</p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-KgiSK-OKRHlrSpAZ8cOJfXM0Wnb9STLDxorpvV-U1PW48UbpEHAs4J8e6SBQPRebTGtFIl1H1wUSe8Dj6bZQ4VLd820e9aVN63m1pBcPQOoMqHGOWbskFB5iHtkTsQosDl4ePbvIz-kh/s400/IMG_0821.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486604159008027538" />Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-33251167601423515102010-06-18T21:49:00.000-07:002010-06-24T22:13:24.175-07:00Migrant Beats: Back in Beijing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS2eFu_01H8Z2VGgdQSyHhBxxrHVG3pwydCcVOb-BvXCU6bp5eIUGdZ0dgW59UDoBrqTc5nq-oH0I9SMqrsjhyRAlf78WY8xPs3abUpU4YSKKtJOagGh3lvti4_yXeN3j3202A9JN2WDk8/s1600/IMG_0783.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS2eFu_01H8Z2VGgdQSyHhBxxrHVG3pwydCcVOb-BvXCU6bp5eIUGdZ0dgW59UDoBrqTc5nq-oH0I9SMqrsjhyRAlf78WY8xPs3abUpU4YSKKtJOagGh3lvti4_yXeN3j3202A9JN2WDk8/s400/IMG_0783.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486573939682837074" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">I like airplane cabin weather better than <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Beijing</st1:place></st1:city> weather. I felt like I was sluicing through a jelly of warm air, fighting my way through the customs gates and to the baggage claims. The terminal still hasn’t changed – unfortunately. While passing through the departure terminal in the electronic tram, I noted that the gates were still numbered in disarray, so that gate 1 is next to gate 72, 23 to 45, and so on. How many other people missed their flights because of the airport’s inefficient layout, I do not know.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This time in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region>, I am beginning field research for my senior thesis on literature written by internal migrants. As early as during the 1980s, rural migrants to major special economic zones like Shenzhen and Yanhai had recorded their reactions to the strange urban environments, their thoughts on migrant life and, and their witnessing of cruelty upon and discrimination of migrants. Described to “write while surviving” to accent the initiative that some have taken to jot passing thoughts and events despite the exhaustion from working long hours, the initial diaries and short stories created an entire “migrant literature” genre and the diverse physical forms of expression, from novels and poetry to expository essays and movies. During the 1990s, the genre died with a wave of younger migrants who did not care to write. At the turn of the century, literary prizes specified for migrant literature injected new interest in the genre, with award-winning works published in major domestic literary journals. Because migrant writers still lack connections with major publishing houses, some upload their works directly onto literary forums, while some print and distribute independently. With the support of the Robert Bates Fellowship at <st1:placename st="on">Yale</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">University</st1:placetype>, I will interview writers and major literary critics of migrant literature in cities around <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region> while collecting periodicals and books for my senior thesis in Chinese literature. In this blog, I will record my visits to museums and interviews of curators, migrant workers and writers.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">For now though, I am still soaking in the changes in my old neighborhood. Wudaokou has changed again. <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Houbajia</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Village</st1:placetype></st1:place> is completely razed, a microcosm of thousands of migrants reduced to white cement chunks and broken bricks. Northern sections of it are being turned into a park, while the rest of the area will be redeveloped into another residential zone with 20-floor apartments for Tsinghua’s professors and students. However, because the village stood on what was originally a graveyard back in the Ming dynasty (I think), the superstitious elderly of Tsinghua refuse to move out, even if the apartments there will be better. Two more 25-story buildings now stand across the west gate of Dongwangzhuang. Late at night, the shouts and gurgled vomits of Korean students complement the occasional taxi honk.</p>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-4654078288661586902010-05-29T22:52:00.000-07:002010-05-29T23:07:45.562-07:00Tea, Cha, Chai: LiveMocha!<div style="text-align: left;">A friend sent me a link to a random site called LiveMocha. I thought it was supposed to be some sort of online order espresso delivery site, but it turned out to be a language study site. Naturally, I have to feature it on this blog!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">www.livemocha.com</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXj1mH-W2LQRyleANFYMk3zlMZLsa7tR9rnZOdgrZGwUeW3JN1d1Br0sBekpfVVFkdBcc0MiUoEIMkF9V5TMmHR1J7Q1hsBjxDxlK8PjoYuHEJREpPXc5Swdn0-xERgoyHfLkyQh3glQ8A/s400/Livemocha.PNG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 326px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476939681078793346" /><div>It offers very comprehensive lessons for <b>38 </b>languages, including Japanese, Korean, and Mandarin Chinese. (It even offers Esperanto!) I've been testing the lessons for those three languages, and have pleasantly been rewarded with grammar and pronunciation corrections. The virtual teachers' recordings sound natural, and the lessons truly build with sufficient repetitions to drill in key grammar patterns and vocabularies. </div><div><br /></div><div>Like Lang-8, previously discussed in this blog, other members in the LiveMocha community who are native speakers of the languages you study can correct your recordings and writings - <i>and they will</i>. I got a response on one of my recordings in less than 5 minutes. In order to access higher level lessons, you have to accumulate Teacher Points by leaving constructive comments on other users' assignments. Pretty nifty setup. </div><div><br /></div><div>Essentially, LiveMocha is to the Rosetta Stone as Open Office is to Microsoft Office. So far, I'm enjoying it a lot. I'm waiting for the site to roll out with lessons in Tagalog though. If you give it a try, friend me at runinmusic!</div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-90715796000616192722010-05-14T09:18:00.000-07:002010-05-14T09:56:02.419-07:00Technical Intermission: Linking Blogger to Facebook<div><div><div><div><div>You just spent hours crafting your blog entry, resizing and arranging your pictures and changing fonts so that the world (namely, your friends) can read about your life. You've put your link in the "websites" box on Facebook in hopes that your friends will click and check in once in a while. Alas, they don't. When you upload photos of your travels on Facebook, your friends all say, "Whoa, that's so cool! Where did you take that?" And all you want to say is, "stfu. I wrote about this - go read."<br /><br /><div>Fortunately, you don't have to exclaim profanity. And no, it's not Facebook's fault that you're ignored and isolated from your social network (especially if you're in places like China - can people access Facebook in China now?) All you need to do is built a bridge that will allow your entries to be posted directly<i> <strong>on everybody's news feed.</strong> </i></div><br /><div><i></i>This way, at least your friends will be able to read the title and maybe the first few words of your entry.<br /></div><div>So how do you do this?</div><div> </div><div>1. Under the Layout tab on the back-end of your blog, click on "Edit HTML."</div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 88px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471163387145618818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uhRZMgRcfwALCr03H4Q7vMqXbGB5U7CP3fvxfWvfiKH4qxTi7lrSAVsMW5fadvMP0mORb4L1_9MRZGXPtMG3cp9yYp5Em3xwCWeYXg_7s49LX9QmXNkFkmuYZRDu_mah3akyUrtJKk_F/s400/edit+html.PNG" /></div><div>2. Check "Expand Widget Templates." <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 306px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471166611091244786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC3bwRX9BfNW9OIHk0I3876cvG5LbT4spSECm8K_a-WZlyTcSxRbTBVXSNk_nCCA4c6Z5DYnDWLRfVo_NZE-e4pWZt3rlyjVL_xUKFQkXChTM-1r9JxHwLs87TTXYurbgYTbmRBy3rvBKa/s400/check+expand+widget+templates.PNG" /></div><div> </div><div>3. Click inside the box with all the code, and find (by pressing Ctrl+F or Apple Sign+F) the text "<data:post.body/>".<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 355px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 75px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471167099232435762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYkyV0A6TaDXJZnJIp2e019uXLfUlEnrllLT125Rh9zQjGoAUwLfKn0ZzJLCA4PTNdgHRcjys8qjYLG075HYyKLE5F28wtJD9nCIyUMaKZJOtd54TgJip5yKgPxZ1hLAmK1r1DiNZvxrDl/s400/control+find.PNG" /></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 235px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471167103039719170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWqSxZWy9odBR7ffeAlDsd4VvzsHg0ireEFt7n4RIH3mxYh2a2NlyrknA3Wo99TmD7vPEcAWnBjUgklL-e11BTCzq-ggpT14GlMV4lNyI1ol6nIRiLH9lkJu9VXSRjLiRhwn7JKdVMu7S1/s400/data+post+body.PNG" /></div><div> </div><div>4. Right below that text, copy and paste the following bit of code: </div><div><b:if cond="'data:post.url'"></div><div><br/>share on:<a href="'"http://www.facebook.com/share.php?u=""">facebook</a></div><div></b:if><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471167114037539842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWU_Vy_S2NBTldZd17X7Ch5PXorWQrAkk1gzNVNAEFhwgv8N86d2QtXHS59v_XlzJ4wNiahvnDxALSCWC7NgwxhnG9iUejIijD1jHKxEr4DO7fbq0cWvhmQ3bIOPudsk8duGX2R914igwk/s400/copy+paste.PNG" /></div><div> </div><div>5. Click on "Save Template." View your blog. Below every entry, you should see the text circled below. Now, you can click on the blue-highlighted text to share your entry through facebook. </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 75px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471167119322421362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2FTRsuCK23-bO4XTHt0rFxkzbrnsyT5CXCtNIb4d-9J6iNfwTRf5YRVt0B_juq_Qk_OKrhXZ_rnwabomuy54gFOjG4N-7lho5avBK3_pipdtuGgB8tc3cCV8GXYdEk3z8El_SnCB3iVrG/s400/share+on+facebook.PNG" /></div><div> </div><div>I hope this helps!</div></div></div></div></div></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-82678920952142594172010-03-30T21:49:00.000-07:002010-03-30T21:53:11.566-07:00Eminem's "Without Me": Back to China!I got news from the Office of Fellowship Programs at Yale that I earned a research fellowship to travel throughout China for the summer! Wooo! <div><br /></div><div>I will share my project proposal and rough itinerary soon. </div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-29775369807052689572010-01-31T18:13:00.000-08:002010-01-31T18:23:27.875-08:00DigiLanguage: Using the WebI wrote around New Year's Day on different dictionaries that I use to study East Asian Languages. The New York Times published a <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/28/technology/personaltech/28basics.html?em">cool article</a> that highlights some paid and free options to learn all sorts of languages. The BBC language site is very fun (I use it to study Polish), but here are some sites that you can use to hone your Korean, Japanese or Chinese language skills. <div><br /></div><div><a href="http://rki.kbs.co.kr/learn_korean/lessons/e_index.htm">http://rki.kbs.co.kr/learn_korean/lessons/e_index.htm</a></div><div><br /></div><div>KBS World created this a while ago. I read and listened through the dialogues - I think this would be a great supplement to anyone studying anywhere from beginning to intermediate Korean at Yale. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://chinesepod.com/">http://chinesepod.com/</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Chinese Pod is great in that once you can listen and understand some of the intermediate-advanced recordings, the creators consciously select the latest vocabulary used in China and choose topics that are of immediate interest to its students. Unfortunately, it's a paid service. If you have an iTouch, you can download its recordings for a low cost.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.japanesepod101.com/">http://www.japanesepod101.com/</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I haven't tried this site out, but according to its homepage, all of its material is free. I'll test it over the next few days. </div><div><br /></div><div>Happy studying.</div><div><br /></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-21360162028262066632010-01-21T17:11:00.000-08:002010-01-21T17:13:37.944-08:00Cymbals - Random realizationAs a freshman, I thought I'd be swallowing biophysics, biochemistry and biotechnology courses by now. Funny how I'm savoring seminars on Chinese, Korean and Japanese language and literature instead.<br /><br />If only I read faster.Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-6994910739880327452010-01-19T09:01:00.000-08:002010-01-19T09:19:44.229-08:00Zoom Zoom Zoom: Electric Bikes<a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703657604575005140241751852.html?mod=WSJ_hpp_sections_lifestyle">http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703657604575005140241751852.html?mod=WSJ_hpp_sections_lifestyle</a><div><br /></div><div>I wonder if Mr. Oster has observed the increase of electric bicyclists in cities other than Beijing. I didn't think that traffic was as bad or accidents as frequent as he proclaims. For instance, in Kunming I noticed many more electric bikes in downtown streets back in January 2009 than on those of Beijing. However, what was different was that there were patrol officers who guided traffic and ensured that bicyclists stayed within their lanes, especially in two-way streets. At intersections, the officers fined or stopped anyone who would run the red light. </div><div><br /></div><div>The rise of electric bicycles in Beijing and other major coastal cities highlights yet another issue on material necessity. I can see why a city like Kunming or Chongqing would have more electric bikes than Beijing - those cities are hilly. Those cities' residents need electric bicycles in order to commute within reasonable time limits. Yet coastal cities like Beijing and Shanghai are relatively flat in the central areas - the only hills are the highways and ring roads, man-made. What convenient obstacles. I suppose the electric bicycle industry has the urban infrastructure department to thank for its growing success. In a sense, the electric bikes are necessary to maneuver the long, rising curvy exits that break off from the main highways like bad hair. But ultimately, the change in the cityscape adjusted residents' needs to be dependent on<i> unnatural</i> additions.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wonder where my bike is now. If it hasn't been stolen, it's probably still outside my old apartment in Dongwangzhuang, gathering dust next to the 80 year old man and his two flappy-eared dogs. </div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-78192628443921068152010-01-10T11:17:00.000-08:002010-01-10T11:22:09.355-08:00NYTimes on creativity and Green Revolutions...in China<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/10/arts/design/10expatsweb.html?emc=eta1">http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/10/arts/design/10expatsweb.html?emc=eta1</a><div><br /></div><div>An article about the importance of China for artists. I recommend this read for anybody interested in finding room for creativity and innovation without feeling squeezed by money.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/10/opinion/10friedman.html?emc=eta1">http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/10/opinion/10friedman.html?emc=eta1</a></div><div><br /></div><div>An Op-Ed by Thomas Friedman. Apparently, China is serious about leading the world's Green Revolution. I'm not so convinced, considering China actually seemed to weaken many of the Copenhagen proposals, but an interesting outlook.</div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-5141027381435682202010-01-03T21:17:00.000-08:002010-01-03T21:26:55.131-08:00Mad World: Chinese = Job?My friend forwarded a very interesting blog entry called "Does learning Chinese lead to a good job in the United States? No." Though its argument creates quite a discouragement for all those who believe that Chinese language skills are an asset, it does have valid points. On campus, we often hear exciting stories of exotic escapades and wild adventures in East Asia, and dream of living it big without really understanding the opportunities created by understanding another world's culture, language and history. This entry grounds language ability in economic reality.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; font-family:Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">"I have been following Ben Ross' blog since its inception. He is an interesting chap who provided excellent insights into living in China when he worked in a Chinese barbers - long story.<br /><br />His discussion on what it means for a Westerner to learn Chinese and spend three years in China is interesting. I admit I probably fall into the "wow - you speak Chinese - you must be able to walk into a high paid job".<br /><br />The problem I now see clearly is that there are so many native Chinese who speak excellent English so the average westerner will never really be able to compete however much they try to learn Chinese.<br /><br />This is a great quote. To most of my friends the "spouse" bit would be more than enough encouragement.<br /><br /><blockquote style="margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 20px; "><span style="font-weight: bold; ">Rather than a fortune and a new career, most expats seem to return home with little more than a thicker waistline, a prodigious collection of DVD’s, and possibly a new spouse.</span></blockquote><br /><br />Ben speaks a lot of sense and shows some natural ability as an economist as he argues the case why his friend is ultimately doomed. His bleakness is refreshing (to an economist).<br /><br /><a href="http://benross.net/wordpress/ok-so-i-learned-chinese%E2%80%A6now-why-can%E2%80%99t-i-find-a-job/2009/11/17/" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 153); ">Ok, So you learned Chinese…Now where’s that dream job???</a> [Ben Ross's Blog]<br /><blockquote style="margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 20px; "><br />Earlier this week I received an e-mail from an American friend of mine who had recently moved from China back to the US. My friend had spent three years in the Middle Kingdom, taught English, studied Chinese, and even worked a “real” job in Shanghai for half a year, and had now been back in United States for three months. His Chinese was solid, as it should be for anybody who spends three years in China, and good enough to be used on an occupational level. <span style="font-weight: bold; ">In his e-mail, he explained the frustration he was experiencing trying to secure a job in the United States which could build on his experience in China.</span><br /><br />“I thought learning Chinese would be a hot commodity when I got back, and didn’t expect it would be this tough to find a job,” he expressed.<br /><br />His sentiments are not out of the ordinary. In fact, the post-China unemployment funk is practically unavoidable for former expats upon their re-entry to the Western World, even in times when the economy is healthy. Part of the funk is due to the natural difficulties in transitioning back to American life. However, these frustrations are often aggrandized by high expectations, which are predicated on a fallacy that seems to follow any Westerner who has spent significant time living in China. It usually goes something like this and comes from the likes of parents, grandparents, teachers, generally anybody who is in a natural position to give you advice:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; ">“Oh, you’re learning Chinese? China is the world’s next super-power, you know. You’ll be in high demand when you get back home.”</span><br /><br />(Notice how people who make these comments never seem to be in the position to make use of your services. Yet they are confident others will be lining up to do exactly that.)<br /><br />Chinese people provide similar, unsolicited life coaching. The line I hear most is:<br /><br />你会英文也会中文。你应该做生意 。 “You speak English and Chinese. You should start a business.”<br /><br />(As if that’s all it takes.)<br /><br />The funny thing is that most of the people dispensing this kind of advice have never actually been in the situation which would require testing it out in the first place. They’ve never been an expat in China. And they’ve never looked for a “China job” in the US. However, they have heard all about it in the news, and they all seemingly buy into the axiom that: China is the next world superpower, and therefore there is no better way to cash in than to study Chinese.<br /><br />The simple fact is however, mastery of Chinese, no matter how good you are, is NOT a golden ticket to employment in the United States.* That is, of course, unless your career goals are purely linguistic in nature (i.e. Chinese teacher, interpreter, or translator). More often than not, expats who learn Chinese and return home, find their way back into the same career (or school) path they had before they ever left for China in the first place.<br /><br />Big money, international trades, product sourcing…these dreams are all in the trajectory of the scores of Tom Joads who show up annually in the Middle Kingdom. Everybody comes to China with a plan to strike it rich. <span style="font-weight: bold; ">Rather than a fortune and a new career, most expats seem to return home with little more than a thicker waistline, a prodigious collection of DVD’s, and possibly a new spouse.</span> While China certainly is the current land of opportunity, capitalizing on this fact is not simply a matter of learning the language.<br /><br />Although Chinese may in fact be in high demand, what’s equally important is to factor in is the supply of Chinese speakers. According to the US census, in 2006 there were 2.5 million** people in the United States who speak Chinese at home. That’s more than any language other than English and Spanish. What this means is that not even counting the hundreds of thousands of American currently studying Chinese as a second language, there are already over two million Americans, who by virtue of growing up speaking Chinese, speak the language better than you ever will, regardless of how much you study. <span style="font-weight: bold; ">From international traders to insurance salesmen to delivery boys at the local chop suey joint, most of the “China jobs” in the US are filled by Chinese Americans.</span><br /><br />On the other side of the ocean, English proficiency in the Middle Kingdom is spreading like SARS in a Chinese train station during Spring Festival. Every year Chinese universities are churning out millions (literally) of graduating English majors, a large percentage of whom don’t find jobs with their bilingualness either. Those that do, tend to start out in the 1000 RMB per month range, about 170 USD. In short, there is no bottleneck in communication between China and the United States. And in a capitalist world governed by the laws of supply and demand, there is little justification for hiring an American and paying him an American wage solely because he can speak Chinese.<br /><br />That being said, it certainly is possible to create a career out of your China experience, but here are some points you should consider.<br /><br />-A decent “China job” is best attained by using Chinese to augment a pre-existing skill set. While the language alone won’t procure much in the way of employment, Chinese should give a competitive advantage to individuals who already have existing qualifications such as an engineering degree, a background in biochemistry, or experience in the financial sector.<br /><br />-There are a substantial amount of career-oriented positions available which will make use of your Chinese skills. The thing is, most of them are in China, particularly Beijing, Shanghai, and Shenzhen. If your goal is to base your career on Chinese, you should be comfortable with the idea that you’re going to be spending the majority of your time in China.<br /><br />-In order to secure a job using your Chinese, you’re going to have to be pretty good. Basic conversational skills and “knowing the culture” aren’t going to get you squat. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly, but you should be able to sit in on a business meeting, soak up the details, and contribute to the conversation without falling too far behind. We’re talking a pretty advanced proficiency level here. Being literate helps too.<br /><br />-But most importantly, finding a good China job relies much more on your actual skill set than your language skills per se. This is where people tend to kid themselves and hide behind their HSK scores. If you’re a poor communicator, disorganized, or can’t create an Excel spreadsheet, these traits are going to hurt your chances at employment much more than your inability to properly pronounce the third tone. Regard the bulk of your China job search as you would any other job search which wouldn’t pertain to your China experience. Your Chinese language chops are the gravy.<br /><br />Now all of this is not to say that learning Chinese is a waste of time. Learning a foreign language, especially one spoken by 20% of the world’s population is, provides access to a wealth of knowledge and experiences unattainable to monolinguals. The ability to speak Chinese will allow opportunities for personal and intellectual growth to which it would be impossible to attach any price tag. But in terms of paying dividends measured in annual salary, the rewards of learning Chinese will likely never exceed the time and effort put into it. If you do decide devote the time and energy to study Chinese, do so out of a desire to further your own personal curiosities and intellectual development, not under the pretense that it will directly boost your career. For that, you’d be better off getting an MBA.<br /><br />*I am assuming the same would apply to Canada, Australia, New Zealand, or Western Europe, but since I’ve never lived in any of those countries, I’m going to limit my direct discussion to the US.<br /><br />**I’m willing to grant a significant number of that 2.5 million speak a dialect other than Mandarin (Unfortunately the census lumps all Chinese dialects together). However, current trends in immigration indicate that a) Chinese immigration to the US continues to increase and b) the vast majority of recent immigrants are proficient Mandarin speakers."</blockquote><blockquote style="margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 20px; ">Source: <a href="http://china-economics-blog.blogspot.com/2010/01/does-learning-chinese-lead-to-good-job.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed:+ChinaEconomicsBlog+(China+Economics+Blog)">http://china-economics-blog.blogspot.com/2010/01/does-learning-chinese-lead-to-good-job.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed:+ChinaEconomicsBlog+(China+Economics+Blog)</a></blockquote></span></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-90619627642720352872009-12-31T10:36:00.000-08:002009-12-31T10:45:50.294-08:00Watch me.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPnVHm2uxlUFlMenokcWWZCHfQ9cwmnFXtJhfY3NRmjQTNJBMRGVXc7QW9Zlnmc6HeR1jU5ikmIPaTYRVli04EUcO3zDSGn7CrtO9Y5Qb4subpslHY_1ZsAZEs5QDRXBqEjS8dIT5n5IN/s1600-h/turn-around-and-watch.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPnVHm2uxlUFlMenokcWWZCHfQ9cwmnFXtJhfY3NRmjQTNJBMRGVXc7QW9Zlnmc6HeR1jU5ikmIPaTYRVli04EUcO3zDSGn7CrtO9Y5Qb4subpslHY_1ZsAZEs5QDRXBqEjS8dIT5n5IN/s400/turn-around-and-watch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421471055747126866" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Happy New Year! 新年快乐!새해 복 많이 받으세요! 新年おめでとうございます!</div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-48103427818428346722009-12-30T01:06:00.000-08:002010-01-03T19:10:22.033-08:00Schubert's Moment Musicals: A summer? A year?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-I-EYkN87qHV-PU-57VHdMmUomrZFHbJvwKLoXe38fYYygYHiNI5fCOg3AezTSrunxP7Ni2HHdGoekTwrSvcjfeTK35nG8IIEvORqjwDsn2fYw1CTgOiJfFnlY0yZo48J0sNZsQkIXImU/s1600-h/newyear4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-I-EYkN87qHV-PU-57VHdMmUomrZFHbJvwKLoXe38fYYygYHiNI5fCOg3AezTSrunxP7Ni2HHdGoekTwrSvcjfeTK35nG8IIEvORqjwDsn2fYw1CTgOiJfFnlY0yZo48J0sNZsQkIXImU/s320/newyear4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420970113377513266" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(Standing in front of Tiananmen, New Year's Eve 2008).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I recently had a Google Chat conversation with a friend at Yale. For privacy reasons, I'll call him Dough. Dough studied Chinese as a Light Fellow this past summer, and was seriously considering going to China for a longer period of time. However, he asked me for advice on <i>when</i> <i>and how long</i> he should go. This summer? After I graduate? This summer and another academic year? <div>Dough loves all that is China, from the characters to its bicycles, from its natural wonders to its women. He is thrilled by the idea of fending for himself and carving a new identity in a foreign environment. He read my blog (yay!) and said, "I want to have the experiences you had." I am flattered.<br /><div>However, Dough admitted that he participates in many extracurricular activities on campus and has friends across the classes and faculty. How could he leave everything just to study a language? He would be leaving behind friends, advisors and organizations that will need him.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dough raised interesting concerns. He at once wanted to leave and remain in his <i>network</i>. Allow me highlight some of the savory bits of our discussion:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">-- "I don't want to leave my friends, my campus job, my positions, etc."</span></div><div>Simply put, <b>your</b><b> friends and your commitments will be waiting for you when you get back. </b>Your friends won't desert or forget about you. After talking with other alumni who had taken leaves of absences, and experiencing for myself, I found that organizations in which you were a member will want you back because you're know more globally aware and knowledgeable. However, you'll probably want to leave them and find new activities that suit your newfound tastes. Also, by being a part of society abroad, you can pursue much more interesting junior/senior research when you're back at Yale.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>-- "I want to have the experiences you had."</b></div><div><b>Sorry, but you won't</b>. I'm not saying this with any sort of pride - rather, I say it with jealousy. <b>Your experiences will be more exciting and awesome, guaranteed</b>. In countries as confusing, bizarre, exciting and insane as China, Japan and Korea, you can walk down a street, talk to ten different people the same question and hear widely different responses. East Asia is changing rapidly - my blog attempted to capture, in several hundred word bits, brief moments that I found amazing. I want to go back and continue being a part of the change. If I had the choice of either finishing my Yale degree or going back and submerging myself in any of those countries for another year, I'd choose the latter in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, Yale only allows leaves of absences with a maximum length of one year. I guess I'll just have to read your blog until I graduate.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>-- "I had a lot of fun during summer, studying and partying."</b></div><div>The academic year experience can be very different. Many of your summer drinking buddies will probably go back home, and you'll have to find new ways to keep yourself occupied. You'll probably feel homesick, alone, depressed, annoyed. You'll probably complain often. (Complaining, though, is something we have to do anyways in order to learn languages.) But think of the good things: <b>you'll experience the other three seasons</b>. You can use your solitude to seriously reflect about your life - assuming we all will live until we're 100, you've already lived one-fifth. How will you live out the remaining four-fifths? You can build more intimate relationships with local friends. You can visit more exhibitions, participate in club events far more interesting than the ones at Yale, attend events you'd never go to - and in the process, you can begin understanding your own passions. At Yale, most people don't really allow themselves the peace and serenity necessary to find their interests. </div><div><br /></div><div><b>-- "The idea of being a foreigner excites me."</b></div><div>Read this piece on <a href="http://www.economist.com/world/international/displayStory.cfm?story_id=15108690&source=hptextfeature">being foreign</a> by The Economist.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dough, I hope you ultimately make the decision that you won't regret.</div></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-7163183587645180542009-12-25T00:28:00.000-08:002009-12-25T00:43:39.741-08:00Silent Night - 이야기<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Batang;">An exercise in English-Korean translation. English passage from John Welwood's <i>Journey of the Heart, pages 25-26.</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="KO" style="font-family:Batang;mso-bidi-font-family: Batang;mso-fareast-language:KO">어떤 상황을 알게되는 것은 간단해도</span><span style="font-family:Batang;mso-bidi-font-family:Batang;mso-fareast-language: KO">, <span lang="KO">있는 그대로 알게 되는 것은 쉽지가않다</span>. <span lang="KO">우리는 현실의 식상한 견해를 유지하고 촉진하는 것들에 익숙해져있어서</span>, <span lang="KO">어떤 상황을 사실되로 보는 능력이 저해된다</span>. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span lang="KO" style="font-family:Batang;mso-bidi-font-family: Batang;mso-fareast-language:KO">특별히 사랑에있어서</span><span style="font-family:Batang; mso-bidi-font-family:Batang;mso-fareast-language:KO">, <span lang="KO">우리의 한정된 희망</span>, <span lang="KO">두려움과 여러 선입관</span>, <span lang="KO">믿음및 의견들이 우리의 눈을 멀게한다</span>.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Batang;mso-bidi-font-family:Batang; mso-fareast-language:KO">“<span lang="KO">세상은 이렇게 돌아간다</span>” – <span lang="KO">이런 주제의 물든 반복적인 이야기들을 통해서 세계를보는 한정된 시각들을 영속하게한다</span>. <span lang="KO">이런 이야기들은 사람들이 아는 체계에다가 실제적사건을 해명하고싶은 허구다</span>. <span lang="KO">우리는 평소에 이런 이야기가 자신의 꾸밈이라는 것을 알지 못하고 그것들이 대신 현실을 표현한다고 믿는다</span>. <span lang="KO">이런 이야기들은 정신의 배경에서 기계처럼 작동해서</span>, <span lang="KO">잠재의식을 통해서 우리에게 영향을준다</span>. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span lang="KO" style="font-family:Batang;mso-bidi-font-family: Batang;mso-fareast-language:KO">그것들이 우리를 지배하는 것을 자각하지 못하면</span><span style="font-family:Batang;mso-bidi-font-family:Batang;mso-fareast-language: KO">, <span lang="KO">그 것들은 우리들을 식상한 행동양식에다가 더 묶여지게 만든다</span>. <span lang="KO">성숙한 인간관계의 제일 큰 장애물은 대개 인간관계가 어떻게 되야 된다는 </span>“<span lang="KO">이야기</span>” <span lang="KO">들이다</span>. (<span lang="KO">누구를 사랑하면</span>, <span lang="KO">그를 영원히 행복하게해야한다</span>…<span lang="KO">그를 반듯이 지켜야한다</span>…<span lang="KO">자기의 화를 꼭 억 눌러야한다</span>) <span lang="KO">그런 이야기들은 우리의 선택과 자유를 적어지게하고 꼭막힌 상자속에 갇혀있게 만든다</span>.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="KO" style="font-family:Batang;mso-bidi-font-family: Batang;mso-fareast-language:KO">이런 믿음과 이야기들의 구성은 자연스러운 의식의 투명성과 유동성을 여과기 처럼 불투명하게한다</span><span style="font-family:Batang;mso-bidi-font-family:Batang;mso-fareast-language: KO">. <span lang="KO">이 구성이 너무 두텁고 얽혀서</span>, <span lang="KO">우리는 자신이 구성의 이야기를 꾸미는 것을 발견하고 간파하고</span>, <span lang="KO">그리고 실제로 일어나는 것을 볼수있는 간단한 기본적인 의식으로 회복하는 방법을 찾지못하고있다</span>. <span lang="KO">우리는 언제든지 사상에서 의식으로 옮길수 있다는것을 이해해야된다</span>. <span lang="KO">그러므로</span>, <span lang="KO">악기를 연습하면 더 아름답게 연주할수있는 것처럼</span>, <span lang="KO">우리는 의도적으로 자각을 </span>“<span lang="KO">연습</span>” <span lang="KO">해야 그상태를 더 쉽게 접근할수있다</span>. <span lang="KO">더 큰 의식을 갖으면서 우리의 행동을 제어하는 </span>“<span lang="KO">이야기</span>”<span lang="KO">들도 버리고 우리의 삶에서 더 큰 자유과 투명을 발견할수있다</span>.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Batang; ">While becoming aware of what is happening is simple enough, it is of course not always easy to do. This is because we have an investment in maintaining and promoting an old familiar <i>version</i> of reality, and this prevents us from seeing what is actually going on. Especially in the area of love, we are blinded by conditioned hopes and fears, by cherished preconceptions, beliefs, and opinions of all kinds, both personal and collective.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Batang;">We perpetuate these conditioned ways of perceiving the world through repetitive stories we tell ourselves about "the way things are." These kinds of stories are mental fabrications, judgments or interpretations that put what is happening into a familiar framework. Usually we do not recognize these stories as our own invention; instead, we believe that they represent reality. Stories often operate in the background of the mind, as part of an ongoing stream of subconscious gossip that we keep up with ourselves. The less conscious we are of how they control us, the more they keep us locked into old patterns of behavior. The greatest obstacles in relationships are often our stories about how we think relationships should be. ("If you love someone, you should always keep them happy...you should always want to be there...you should set aside your anger.") They narrow our options and keep us stuck in very tight boxes.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Batang;">This dense fabric of entrenched belief, stories, and reaction patterns acts as a filter that clouds and obscures the natural clarity and fluidity of awareness. Because this web is so thick and entangling, we need to find ways to catch ourselves in the act of constructing these stories, see through them, and return to a basic, simple awareness of what is immediately happening. We need to discover that we can, at any moment, make a shift from thought to awareness, which is the larger space in which thoughts and stories arise. So, just as practicing a musical instrument allows us to play more fluidly, we must at first intentionally <i>practice</i> awareness before it can flow more fluidly and reflect more accurately on its own. With greater consciousness, we can begin to dislodge the stories controlling our behavior, thus developing greater clarity and freedom in our life.</span></p>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-85243722445799220792009-12-21T13:10:00.001-08:002009-12-21T13:45:00.915-08:00Jingle Bells: Online Resources to study East Asian LanguagesThis past semester, I began studying Japanese. Because I am familiar with Korean grammar and studied Chinese for a bit, learning Japanese has been a very smooth and fun experience. Occasionally, I had to learn how to write certain characters differently, or rearrange words to conform Japanese structures, but overall the language is interesting. It has been particularly interesting to find linguistic similarities and go on small etymological quests to understand the history of related words. Sometimes, I confuse pronunciations and add onomatopoeia using the wrong languages: "その車は、ちょっと。。。那个那个那个。。。비싸, no, 高いですねえ!”<div><br /></div><div>I noticed that if I was aware of all the internet resources to study the East Asian languages earlier in my Yale career, I probably would have enjoyed first-year Chinese more (though, Zhou Laoshi's lectures were always fun and second to none). I'll try to compile a few sites I use to study Japanese now, including a few other sites that I use to review Korean and Chinese.<br /><div><br /></div><div>First of all, I'd like to highly recommend a blogging site called <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.lang-8.com">Lang-8</a>. You can write entries and have native speakers correct them for you. The website has fairly large communities of Japanese, Chinese and Koreans. This is one of the few social networks online that I've found to actually be effective in learning languages.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chinese</div><div><a href="http://www.nciku.com/">nciku </a>- Back when nciku was still in beta, there were lots of expats trying to build this site and make it as organic as possible. The result today is impressive - you can write in characters that you cannot pronounce, or write in pinyin for the characters you can't write, and find definitions quickly. The example sentences are especially helpful to understand the contexts for word usage. </div><div><a href="http://zdic.net/">zdic</a> - All Chinese interface, for the advanced learner. This site is excellent for understanding classical definitions of characters and finding fun chengyu (成语). It uses Kangxi Zidian and Cihai (kind of like OED, but Chinese) to explain character etymologies.</div><div><a href="http://www.wenlin.com/">wenlin</a> - translation and dictionary software. You can copy and paste anything Chinese into the interface to find quick definitions of characters. Whenever I write essays or translate articles, I usually have this open in the background for quick cross-referencing. Wenlin also offers flashcard programs to help you memorize pesky words and difficult phrases. Unfortunately, Wenlin is not free. For a free, but not as resourceful, software similar to Wenlin, try <a href="http://chinese.yuehan.net/">Chinese Practice</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Japanese</div><div><a href="http://jisho.org/">jisho</a> - Pretty basic layout, with search engines for hiragana, katakana and kanji all on the main page. You can even search/translate sentences!</div><div><a href="http://jpdic.naver.com/">naver</a> - The major Korean search engine designed this dictionary for Korean speakers learning Japanese. It allows you to write Japanese on the screen to find definitions. The example sentences are extremely helpful. If you look up grammar words, the site also offers grammar explanations written and approved by bloggers. </div><div><a href="http://wakan.manga.cz/">wakan</a> - like the Wenlin for Chinese learners. Built-in dictionary is a bit cumbersome to use, but the translation and pronunciation features are awesome.</div><div><br /></div><div>Korean</div><div><a href="http://dic.naver.com/">naver</a> - This one is a no-brainer. This site is not just a Korean-English dictionary, but also offers Korean-Hanzi, Korean-Chinese, Korean-Japanese, H-K, C-K and J-K dictionaries. Other major Korean search engines, like Nate (originally Empas) also offer dictionary services, but they are nowhere as comprehensive as Naver's. </div><div><br /></div><div>Hope this helps. Happy holidays!</div></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6415248240518727907.post-74052977477267038322009-12-13T11:13:00.000-08:002009-12-13T11:31:40.110-08:00legend of ashitaka: musings in the rain<div><br /></div>天門點灰雨柔下,<div>坑卻映白松鼠跳。<div>忘舍鍵立於架下,</div><div>盼冷而感暖為何?</div><div><br /></div><div>Gray dabbles the sky as the rain softly falls,</div><div>but the puddles reflect white. The squirrel skitters.</div><div>I forgot my dorm key and am standing under the door rail——</div><div>I see cold but feel warm - why?</div></div>Rickyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02933943498563024606noreply@blogger.com2