Roots of Communication, Fruits of Language
As a foreigner, learning to speak Mandarin in her very motherland is akin to being born a second time, but this time through the aging eyes of experience. The early stages of learning a second language is more so an exercise in silence; body language takes precedence over the spoken word. It is a powerful experience to transition from having an educated foundation to at once being illiterate and near mute. Listening skills must be honed before the tongue can be tamed. Simple truths in life abound across cultures: A smile is universal. Curiosity is reciprocated. Language is only a framework for communication.
Another language may not translate in full the feeling behind an original thought; each is unique and therein lies the beauty. It is not enough to simply master a language in terms of vocabulary and grammar, for the subtleties of communication lie not only in what is said, but how it is communicated. Learning another language presents an opportunity to graft the wisdom of one onto the voice of the other.
The Chinese language is truly a ripened fruit born from the roots of more than 5,000 years of history. Spoken Mandarin harnesses a thought and tames it for communication. Written Mandarin captures a feeling and liberates it via the joining of ink and paper. The very thought wrapped by humans around an abstract concept was born into a single character. While any language evolves over time, to learn Mandarin is to taste this fruit of bygone days. The wisdom of years past are worn into each character and each formulated thought.
The path to fluency in Mandarin is a journey that reminds one of their own humanity and how their native tongue is but one way to view the world. There is an opportunity to share overseas what is taken for granted at home. There is an opportunity to experience firsthand what many will only read from a book. Each day we live and breathe and learn not only another language, but we have the opportunity to gain this wisdom of the past and apply it to the present day.
While English and Mandarin are natively spoken from two vastly different perspectives, there is a common essence to our humanity that persuades louder than any difference might dissuade. It is a reminder that the real essence of communication is but a common ground upon which both English and Mandarin are deeply rooted.
c.20080621
Showing posts with label etymology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label etymology. Show all posts
20081208
20081031
dreaming in script
My black clothing served as a magnet for the penetrating rays of sunlight that cut through the crisp fall air. Out of the autumn breeze, a park bench seduced me into putting my feet up and letting my eyelids down...
This is an autumn day fit for lore.
It wasn't long before I awoke from my shallow slumber, nor was it from the soft hum of students walking past. It was something that I saw, something that flashed lucidly, whilst my eyes were yet closed.
Dreaming in China comes differently than it did before I came here. I often find myself plotting in a mixture of English and Mandarin, often centering around a newly learned word. It tells me that my 'small' brain is more capable than my 'big' brain, and simply goes to work after the night has conquered me.
Some say you only dream in another language when you reach fluency, but my experience is proof that it can occur at even earlier stages. Learning by osmosis seems to be more efficient (and less painstaking) than what my 'big' brain can accomplish when most alert.
Today I did not dream in tongues; instead, I dreamt in script.
A Mandarin character flashed in irridescent green superimposed upon the blackness of my closed eyes. It shone brightly as as does the back of a great flower beetle.
The fact that I dreamt the above character above is interesting on a couple of levels.
The first question I had to ask is why did this character come to me in my sleep? Not only did a Mandarin character appear, but it's meaning attached is also very intriguing!
Secondly, the character appeared in its 'traditional' form. This form is not found in daily use within mainland China (who uses only 'simplified' characters); it can only be found in places such as Taiwan, Japan, and Korea.
The left and right side of the character each represent a meaning and/or a sound. For example, ‘言’ means "language" (or "words") and ‘京’ means "capitol" (or "great"). Together, they mean 'words that are great or grand'... i.e, trust or forgiveness.
Here is a great site that can provide insight into the geneology (etymology) of Chinese characters, in particular, this character above.
I looked up this character several months ago, but as it is not often I speak of 'forgiving' (thankfully the need is not great!), there is no immediate inkling as to why I thought of this character. In fact, I have never written this character, and have not studied it outside of looking it up [once] for its pronunciation.
So, how has it come to pass that this very character came to me in my sleep, in its ancient form? I may not ever find out, but I will at least simmer satisfied in its revelation for some time to come!
A few more brain blots that spilled after the slumber.
This is an autumn day fit for lore.
It wasn't long before I awoke from my shallow slumber, nor was it from the soft hum of students walking past. It was something that I saw, something that flashed lucidly, whilst my eyes were yet closed.
Dreaming in China comes differently than it did before I came here. I often find myself plotting in a mixture of English and Mandarin, often centering around a newly learned word. It tells me that my 'small' brain is more capable than my 'big' brain, and simply goes to work after the night has conquered me.
Some say you only dream in another language when you reach fluency, but my experience is proof that it can occur at even earlier stages. Learning by osmosis seems to be more efficient (and less painstaking) than what my 'big' brain can accomplish when most alert.
Today I did not dream in tongues; instead, I dreamt in script.
A Mandarin character flashed in irridescent green superimposed upon the blackness of my closed eyes. It shone brightly as as does the back of a great flower beetle.
(traditional) 諒 vs. 谅 (simplified)
The fact that I dreamt the above character above is interesting on a couple of levels.
The first question I had to ask is why did this character come to me in my sleep? Not only did a Mandarin character appear, but it's meaning attached is also very intriguing!
Secondly, the character appeared in its 'traditional' form. This form is not found in daily use within mainland China (who uses only 'simplified' characters); it can only be found in places such as Taiwan, Japan, and Korea.
The left and right side of the character each represent a meaning and/or a sound. For example, ‘言’ means "language" (or "words") and ‘京’ means "capitol" (or "great"). Together, they mean 'words that are great or grand'... i.e, trust or forgiveness.
Here is a great site that can provide insight into the geneology (etymology) of Chinese characters, in particular, this character above.
I looked up this character several months ago, but as it is not often I speak of 'forgiving' (thankfully the need is not great!), there is no immediate inkling as to why I thought of this character. In fact, I have never written this character, and have not studied it outside of looking it up [once] for its pronunciation.
So, how has it come to pass that this very character came to me in my sleep, in its ancient form? I may not ever find out, but I will at least simmer satisfied in its revelation for some time to come!
A few more brain blots that spilled after the slumber.
¨ ¨ ¨
A shadow follows not the light.
¨ ¨ ¨
A pen cannot trace its own shadow.
¨ ¨ ¨
The sky is constant, but its weather, not.
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