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#chineseculture — Public Fediverse posts

Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #chineseculture, aggregated by home.social.

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  1. ✨ Have you ever wondered about the spiritual meaning of hairpins? Beyond styling your hair, hairpins have long carried cultural and symbolic meanings connected with beauty, protection, personal energy, and inner balance. Explore their connection to the Crown Chakra and discover how choosing and wearing a hairpin can become a simple, mindful daily ritual that reflects your intentions and personal style.

    auraandluck.com/blogs/lifestyl

    #Hairpins #Spirituality #CrownChakra #Mindfulness #ChineseCulture

  2. ✨ Have you ever wondered about the spiritual meaning of hairpins? Beyond styling your hair, hairpins have long carried cultural and symbolic meanings connected with beauty, protection, personal energy, and inner balance. Explore their connection to the Crown Chakra and discover how choosing and wearing a hairpin can become a simple, mindful daily ritual that reflects your intentions and personal style.

    auraandluck.com/blogs/lifestyl

    #Hairpins #Spirituality #CrownChakra #Mindfulness #ChineseCulture

  3. ✨ Have you ever wondered about the spiritual meaning of hairpins? Beyond styling your hair, hairpins have long carried cultural and symbolic meanings connected with beauty, protection, personal energy, and inner balance. Explore their connection to the Crown Chakra and discover how choosing and wearing a hairpin can become a simple, mindful daily ritual that reflects your intentions and personal style.

    auraandluck.com/blogs/lifestyl

    #Hairpins #Spirituality #CrownChakra #Mindfulness #ChineseCulture

  4. ✨ Have you ever wondered about the spiritual meaning of hairpins? Beyond styling your hair, hairpins have long carried cultural and symbolic meanings connected with beauty, protection, personal energy, and inner balance. Explore their connection to the Crown Chakra and discover how choosing and wearing a hairpin can become a simple, mindful daily ritual that reflects your intentions and personal style.

    auraandluck.com/blogs/lifestyl

    #Hairpins #Spirituality #CrownChakra #Mindfulness #ChineseCulture

  5. There's a concept in wuxia: real mastery isn't found in the crowd shouting at the city well — it's found on the mountain, in quiet, unglamorous practice.

    I've been building a mythology around that idea for my Substack — including 叱石成羊 ("shout at the stones, turn them into sheep"), a four-character idiom born from a Daoist tale I adapted recently: [黄初平 → [mappingmandarin.substack.com/p]

    My newest piece expands that world: a parable about an academy that promises easy mastery and quietly fails its own students.

    "The Academy of All Tones Under Heaven" →
    [mappingmandarin.substack.com/p]

    #Mandarin #ChineseCulture #WritingCommunity #language #mythology #china

  6. There's a concept in wuxia: real mastery isn't found in the crowd shouting at the city well — it's found on the mountain, in quiet, unglamorous practice.

    I've been building a mythology around that idea for my Substack — including 叱石成羊 ("shout at the stones, turn them into sheep"), a four-character idiom born from a Daoist tale I adapted recently: [黄初平 → [mappingmandarin.substack.com/p]

    My newest piece expands that world: a parable about an academy that promises easy mastery and quietly fails its own students.

    "The Academy of All Tones Under Heaven" →
    [mappingmandarin.substack.com/p]

    #Mandarin #ChineseCulture #WritingCommunity #language #mythology #china

  7. Made on a shoestring budget, the hit Teochew film Dear You has triggered a surge of interest from the Chinese diaspora and those wishing to reconcile with regional cultures.

    The film has been one of China’s biggest box office surprises this year. Despite its modest 14 million yuan (US$2 million) production budget, it had grossed 1.9 billion yuan by June 27, less than two months after its release.

    The film, starring a largely rookie cast, debuted in April and was initially available on less than 4 per cent of the country’s screens, but has since grown into a national phenomenon through word of mouth.

    m.youtube.com/watch?v=egsyRCqd

    scmp.com/news/china/diplomacy/

    #AsianMastodon #Teochew #Gaginang #ChineseFilm #ChineseCinema #ChineseDiaspora #ChineseCulture #NewFilms #GlobalSouthFilms #TootSEA #TeochewDiaspora #InternationalFilms

  8. Made on a shoestring budget, the hit Teochew film Dear You has triggered a surge of interest from the Chinese diaspora and those wishing to reconcile with regional cultures.

    The film has been one of China’s biggest box office surprises this year. Despite its modest 14 million yuan (US$2 million) production budget, it had grossed 1.9 billion yuan by June 27, less than two months after its release.

    The film, starring a largely rookie cast, debuted in April and was initially available on less than 4 per cent of the country’s screens, but has since grown into a national phenomenon through word of mouth.

    m.youtube.com/watch?v=egsyRCqd

    scmp.com/news/china/diplomacy/

    #AsianMastodon #Teochew #Gaginang #ChineseFilm #ChineseCinema #ChineseDiaspora #ChineseCulture #NewFilms #GlobalSouthFilms #TootSEA #TeochewDiaspora #InternationalFilms

  9. Made on a shoestring budget, the hit Teochew film Dear You has triggered a surge of interest from the Chinese diaspora and those wishing to reconcile with regional cultures.

    The film has been one of China’s biggest box office surprises this year. Despite its modest 14 million yuan (US$2 million) production budget, it had grossed 1.9 billion yuan by June 27, less than two months after its release.

    The film, starring a largely rookie cast, debuted in April and was initially available on less than 4 per cent of the country’s screens, but has since grown into a national phenomenon through word of mouth.

    m.youtube.com/watch?v=egsyRCqd

    scmp.com/news/china/diplomacy/

    #AsianMastodon #Teochew #Gaginang #ChineseFilm #ChineseCinema #ChineseDiaspora #ChineseCulture #NewFilms #GlobalSouthFilms #TootSEA #TeochewDiaspora #InternationalFilms

  10. Made on a shoestring budget, the hit Teochew film Dear You has triggered a surge of interest from the Chinese diaspora and those wishing to reconcile with regional cultures.

    The film has been one of China’s biggest box office surprises this year. Despite its modest 14 million yuan (US$2 million) production budget, it had grossed 1.9 billion yuan by June 27, less than two months after its release.

    The film, starring a largely rookie cast, debuted in April and was initially available on less than 4 per cent of the country’s screens, but has since grown into a national phenomenon through word of mouth.

    m.youtube.com/watch?v=egsyRCqd

    scmp.com/news/china/diplomacy/

    #AsianMastodon #Teochew #Gaginang #ChineseFilm #ChineseCinema #ChineseDiaspora #ChineseCulture #NewFilms #GlobalSouthFilms #TootSEA #TeochewDiaspora #InternationalFilms

  11. The Last Generation of ‘Bananas’? How Malaysian Chinese Identity Is Transforming

    The English-educated Chinese in Malaysia are dying out, and that could be a good thing.

    I am what many Malaysians would call a banana: Chinese, but more proficient in English.

    To others, I’m not “banana” enough, because by some freak of geography and luck, I can converse badly in Mandarin and in a rare form of Hokkien, the northern version spoken in Penang. But that doesn’t mean I’m Chinese enough for the Chinese-educated, who still firmly consider me a banana because I can’t read well, nor have I read the Chinese classics. So I exist in a weird in-between place.

    But I think it’s a good thing. It has enabled me to see perspectives from both sides. And I really think it’s a privileged position to be highly educated in English and middling in Chinese education.

    The Divide

    Note: Malaysia’s education system is… complex. You can choose to go to vernacular schools where you are taught in either Chinese or Tamil, or you can choose to attend national schools (English and Malay) or international schools (mostly English).

    For the longest time, I come from a generation of Chinese who thought that Chinese education was inferior. My mother used to tell me that if I was educated in a Chinese school, I would turn out different or think differently. Just how differently, I’m never sure, but there’s no denying the gap between English-educated and Chinese-educated Chinese.

    It takes a lot of brains, effort, and motivation to burst out of these educational bubbles. As an English-educated Chinese, it’s rare for someone like me to learn Mandarin on my own. In Chinese-educated circles, you probably need a family that speaks fluent English and an interest in anything Western to escape the Chinese cultural bubble.

    As a result, some Chinese are so Chinese-centric that they only have Chinese friends, work in Chinese places, speak Chinese 98% of the time, and consume only Chinese media. On the other end, we have Chinese bananas who dwell only in English-speaking spaces, consume English media and have friends who speak in English.

    I remember a time when consuming Western media and its narratives meant you ended up mirroring them—often awkwardly, especially when you’re Chinese and don’t realize these narratives might work against you. Yet, for some reason, you still support them.

    Take 2008, during the Beijing Olympic Games. I had two banana friends with wildly different reactions. One was enormously proud to be Chinese because of what he saw on TV. The other wore Tiananmen Square T-shirts to work every day and took every opportunity to remind everyone that the Chinese government violates human rights. I sat somewhere in the middle, confused by it all, because I exist in both worlds. I understand Mandarin and Chinese perspectives, and I understand Western perspectives, but I don’t know exactly who to choose. So I didn’t choose anyone.

    One friend loves to speak French as often as she can, as if to show off how Francophile she is: I can speak French. I lived in France. I had a French boyfriend.

    The other was learning Mandarin. I look at this and think: This is what it’s like being a Chinese diaspora, conflicted between two things. I realized this is what it’s like being a Chinese banana—divorced from your culture and not knowing how or where to stand.

    Roots: The Peranakan Story

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIVa1zCjJ_w&t=1032s

    Watch this documentary above to understand the creole culture of the Peranakans or the Baba Nyonyas. These are my people. ☝️

    In many ways, I’m the same, but not torn between the West or China. I’m an unique: My ancestors are Peranakans—imagine the Creoles of Louisiana, and you’ll get the idea. This is the Malaysian version.

    Peranakans came to Malaysia in three waves. The first was during Admiral Zheng He’s time, at the height of the Ming Dynasty in the 15th century. Between 1405 and 1403 AD the legendary admiral traveled the South China Sea, Indian Ocean, and East African coast by ship. Malacca was one of his ports of call.

    Legend has it that he brought a princess who married the Sultan of Malacca, and from there descended the Peranakans. She brought a retinue of people who stayed, intermarried, and created a culture that was a mix of Malay, Chinese, and—believe it or not—British. Yes, British, because the Peranakans were Anglophiles. We adopted English dining habits, and our children were educated in English missionary schools. My family had a strong tradition of sending their kids to these schools.

    When you come from this background, what is cultural purity? I don’t understand it. All this talk about being “100% more Chinese” or more this or more that doesn’t make sense to me, because I come from a culture that happily adopted all kinds of cultural tidbits from various places.

    My ancestors were part of the second wave of Peranakans in Penang. During the fall of the Ming Dynasty around the late 17th century, many Chinese, mostly men, fled to Malaya. They intermarried with local Malay women, and many didn’t stay in Malaya. T

    They were sea merchants, often leaving home to do business abroad, which explains why Peranakan culture is very matriarchal. The women ruled the house, and the men went out to find work. I descend from these people. I am essentially mixed race, though it’s been many centuries. I look 100% Chinese, but my DNA will probably says otherwise.

    Why Bananas Are Fading

    So why do I say it’s a good thing that bananas are dying out in Malaysia? Bananas have always consumed so much Western media. Due to the language barrier, they don’t understand their Chinese side much. They don’t get the narratives as much. But now, many Malaysian Chinese families—including banana families—are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    I spoke to a Chinese banana friend who came from a banana family but was sent to a Chinese school. He honestly said he hated being educated in the Chinese school system, probably because he was a banana. There was a cultural clash. But today, he’s able to read in Chinese and converse fluently in Mandarin. I envy him. Although I have good listening skills, my speaking is still shit. When I speak, I’m so afraid because my tongue keeps tripping over itself from lack of practice. I’m not as fluent as he is. I envy his ability to bridge both cultures without effort. I want to be him.

    The Ideal Future

    Ideally, the next generation of Chinese in Malaysia will be fluent in Chinese but also retain the ability to understand the West, like the bananas did. Of course, the danger is that they might end up leaning too much to one side—like being so pro-China that they forget other narratives exist.

    That’s why I say it’s maybe a good thing. The status quo wasn’t working well for the Chinese community. Having the Chinese community divided into English-educated and Chinese-educated wasn’t fun. When you’re like me, somewhere in the middle, it’s very odd.

    The Chinese-educated looked down on the bananas. The bananas looked down on the Chinese-educated, while secretly probably envying each other. Back then, the Chinese-educated were more envious of us, because English was the dominant business language of the world, so they felt at a disadvantage. But now it’s the other way around.

    Interestingly, more non-Chinese parents are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    #Chinese #ChineseCulture #education #languages #Malaysia
  12. The Last Generation of ‘Bananas’? How Malaysian Chinese Identity Is Transforming

    The English-educated Chinese in Malaysia are dying out, and that could be a good thing.

    I am what many Malaysians would call a banana: Chinese, but more proficient in English.

    To others, I’m not “banana” enough, because by some freak of geography and luck, I can converse badly in Mandarin and in a rare form of Hokkien, the northern version spoken in Penang. But that doesn’t mean I’m Chinese enough for the Chinese-educated, who still firmly consider me a banana because I can’t read well, nor have I read the Chinese classics. So I exist in a weird in-between place.

    But I think it’s a good thing. It has enabled me to see perspectives from both sides. And I really think it’s a privileged position to be highly educated in English and middling in Chinese education.

    The Divide

    Note: Malaysia’s education system is… complex. You can choose to go to vernacular schools where you are taught in either Chinese or Tamil, or you can choose to attend national schools (English and Malay) or international schools (mostly English).

    For the longest time, I come from a generation of Chinese who thought that Chinese education was inferior. My mother used to tell me that if I was educated in a Chinese school, I would turn out different or think differently. Just how differently, I’m never sure, but there’s no denying the gap between English-educated and Chinese-educated Chinese.

    It takes a lot of brains, effort, and motivation to burst out of these educational bubbles. As an English-educated Chinese, it’s rare for someone like me to learn Mandarin on my own. In Chinese-educated circles, you probably need a family that speaks fluent English and an interest in anything Western to escape the Chinese cultural bubble.

    As a result, some Chinese are so Chinese-centric that they only have Chinese friends, work in Chinese places, speak Chinese 98% of the time, and consume only Chinese media. On the other end, we have Chinese bananas who dwell only in English-speaking spaces, consume English media and have friends who speak in English.

    I remember a time when consuming Western media and its narratives meant you ended up mirroring them—often awkwardly, especially when you’re Chinese and don’t realize these narratives might work against you. Yet, for some reason, you still support them.

    Take 2008, during the Beijing Olympic Games. I had two banana friends with wildly different reactions. One was enormously proud to be Chinese because of what he saw on TV. The other wore Tiananmen Square T-shirts to work every day and took every opportunity to remind everyone that the Chinese government violates human rights. I sat somewhere in the middle, confused by it all, because I exist in both worlds. I understand Mandarin and Chinese perspectives, and I understand Western perspectives, but I don’t know exactly who to choose. So I didn’t choose anyone.

    One friend loves to speak French as often as she can, as if to show off how Francophile she is: I can speak French. I lived in France. I had a French boyfriend.

    The other was learning Mandarin. I look at this and think: This is what it’s like being a Chinese diaspora, conflicted between two things. I realized this is what it’s like being a Chinese banana—divorced from your culture and not knowing how or where to stand.

    Roots: The Peranakan Story

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIVa1zCjJ_w&t=1032s

    Watch this documentary above to understand the creole culture of the Peranakans or the Baba Nyonyas. These are my people. ☝️

    In many ways, I’m the same, but not torn between the West or China. I’m an unique: My ancestors are Peranakans—imagine the Creoles of Louisiana, and you’ll get the idea. This is the Malaysian version.

    Peranakans came to Malaysia in three waves. The first was during Admiral Zheng He’s time, at the height of the Ming Dynasty in the 15th century. Between 1405 and 1403 AD the legendary admiral traveled the South China Sea, Indian Ocean, and East African coast by ship. Malacca was one of his ports of call.

    Legend has it that he brought a princess who married the Sultan of Malacca, and from there descended the Peranakans. She brought a retinue of people who stayed, intermarried, and created a culture that was a mix of Malay, Chinese, and—believe it or not—British. Yes, British, because the Peranakans were Anglophiles. We adopted English dining habits, and our children were educated in English missionary schools. My family had a strong tradition of sending their kids to these schools.

    When you come from this background, what is cultural purity? I don’t understand it. All this talk about being “100% more Chinese” or more this or more that doesn’t make sense to me, because I come from a culture that happily adopted all kinds of cultural tidbits from various places.

    My ancestors were part of the second wave of Peranakans in Penang. During the fall of the Ming Dynasty around the late 17th century, many Chinese, mostly men, fled to Malaya. They intermarried with local Malay women, and many didn’t stay in Malaya. T

    They were sea merchants, often leaving home to do business abroad, which explains why Peranakan culture is very matriarchal. The women ruled the house, and the men went out to find work. I descend from these people. I am essentially mixed race, though it’s been many centuries. I look 100% Chinese, but my DNA will probably says otherwise.

    Why Bananas Are Fading

    So why do I say it’s a good thing that bananas are dying out in Malaysia? Bananas have always consumed so much Western media. Due to the language barrier, they don’t understand their Chinese side much. They don’t get the narratives as much. But now, many Malaysian Chinese families—including banana families—are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    I spoke to a Chinese banana friend who came from a banana family but was sent to a Chinese school. He honestly said he hated being educated in the Chinese school system, probably because he was a banana. There was a cultural clash. But today, he’s able to read in Chinese and converse fluently in Mandarin. I envy him. Although I have good listening skills, my speaking is still shit. When I speak, I’m so afraid because my tongue keeps tripping over itself from lack of practice. I’m not as fluent as he is. I envy his ability to bridge both cultures without effort. I want to be him.

    The Ideal Future

    Ideally, the next generation of Chinese in Malaysia will be fluent in Chinese but also retain the ability to understand the West, like the bananas did. Of course, the danger is that they might end up leaning too much to one side—like being so pro-China that they forget other narratives exist.

    That’s why I say it’s maybe a good thing. The status quo wasn’t working well for the Chinese community. Having the Chinese community divided into English-educated and Chinese-educated wasn’t fun. When you’re like me, somewhere in the middle, it’s very odd.

    The Chinese-educated looked down on the bananas. The bananas looked down on the Chinese-educated, while secretly probably envying each other. Back then, the Chinese-educated were more envious of us, because English was the dominant business language of the world, so they felt at a disadvantage. But now it’s the other way around.

    Interestingly, more non-Chinese parents are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    #Chinese #ChineseCulture #education #languages #Malaysia
  13. The Last Generation of ‘Bananas’? How Malaysian Chinese Identity Is Transforming

    The English-educated Chinese in Malaysia are dying out, and that could be a good thing.

    I am what many Malaysians would call a banana: Chinese, but more proficient in English.

    To others, I’m not “banana” enough, because by some freak of geography and luck, I can converse badly in Mandarin and in a rare form of Hokkien, the northern version spoken in Penang. But that doesn’t mean I’m Chinese enough for the Chinese-educated, who still firmly consider me a banana because I can’t read well, nor have I read the Chinese classics. So I exist in a weird in-between place.

    But I think it’s a good thing. It has enabled me to see perspectives from both sides. And I really think it’s a privileged position to be highly educated in English and middling in Chinese education.

    The Divide

    Note: Malaysia’s education system is… complex. You can choose to go to vernacular schools where you are taught in either Chinese or Tamil, or you can choose to attend national schools (English and Malay) or international schools (mostly English).

    For the longest time, I come from a generation of Chinese who thought that Chinese education was inferior. My mother used to tell me that if I was educated in a Chinese school, I would turn out different or think differently. Just how differently, I’m never sure, but there’s no denying the gap between English-educated and Chinese-educated Chinese.

    It takes a lot of brains, effort, and motivation to burst out of these educational bubbles. As an English-educated Chinese, it’s rare for someone like me to learn Mandarin on my own. In Chinese-educated circles, you probably need a family that speaks fluent English and an interest in anything Western to escape the Chinese cultural bubble.

    As a result, some Chinese are so Chinese-centric that they only have Chinese friends, work in Chinese places, speak Chinese 98% of the time, and consume only Chinese media. On the other end, we have Chinese bananas who dwell only in English-speaking spaces, consume English media and have friends who speak in English.

    I remember a time when consuming Western media and its narratives meant you ended up mirroring them—often awkwardly, especially when you’re Chinese and don’t realize these narratives might work against you. Yet, for some reason, you still support them.

    Take 2008, during the Beijing Olympic Games. I had two banana friends with wildly different reactions. One was enormously proud to be Chinese because of what he saw on TV. The other wore Tiananmen Square T-shirts to work every day and took every opportunity to remind everyone that the Chinese government violates human rights. I sat somewhere in the middle, confused by it all, because I exist in both worlds. I understand Mandarin and Chinese perspectives, and I understand Western perspectives, but I don’t know exactly who to choose. So I didn’t choose anyone.

    One friend loves to speak French as often as she can, as if to show off how Francophile she is: I can speak French. I lived in France. I had a French boyfriend.

    The other was learning Mandarin. I look at this and think: This is what it’s like being a Chinese diaspora, conflicted between two things. I realized this is what it’s like being a Chinese banana—divorced from your culture and not knowing how or where to stand.

    Roots: The Peranakan Story

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIVa1zCjJ_w&t=1032s

    Watch this documentary above to understand the creole culture of the Peranakans or the Baba Nyonyas. These are my people. ☝️

    In many ways, I’m the same, but not torn between the West or China. I’m an unique: My ancestors are Peranakans—imagine the Creoles of Louisiana, and you’ll get the idea. This is the Malaysian version.

    Peranakans came to Malaysia in three waves. The first was during Admiral Zheng He’s time, at the height of the Ming Dynasty in the 15th century. Between 1405 and 1403 AD the legendary admiral traveled the South China Sea, Indian Ocean, and East African coast by ship. Malacca was one of his ports of call.

    Legend has it that he brought a princess who married the Sultan of Malacca, and from there descended the Peranakans. She brought a retinue of people who stayed, intermarried, and created a culture that was a mix of Malay, Chinese, and—believe it or not—British. Yes, British, because the Peranakans were Anglophiles. We adopted English dining habits, and our children were educated in English missionary schools. My family had a strong tradition of sending their kids to these schools.

    When you come from this background, what is cultural purity? I don’t understand it. All this talk about being “100% more Chinese” or more this or more that doesn’t make sense to me, because I come from a culture that happily adopted all kinds of cultural tidbits from various places.

    My ancestors were part of the second wave of Peranakans in Penang. During the fall of the Ming Dynasty around the late 17th century, many Chinese, mostly men, fled to Malaya. They intermarried with local Malay women, and many didn’t stay in Malaya. T

    They were sea merchants, often leaving home to do business abroad, which explains why Peranakan culture is very matriarchal. The women ruled the house, and the men went out to find work. I descend from these people. I am essentially mixed race, though it’s been many centuries. I look 100% Chinese, but my DNA will probably says otherwise.

    Why Bananas Are Fading

    So why do I say it’s a good thing that bananas are dying out in Malaysia? Bananas have always consumed so much Western media. Due to the language barrier, they don’t understand their Chinese side much. They don’t get the narratives as much. But now, many Malaysian Chinese families—including banana families—are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    I spoke to a Chinese banana friend who came from a banana family but was sent to a Chinese school. He honestly said he hated being educated in the Chinese school system, probably because he was a banana. There was a cultural clash. But today, he’s able to read in Chinese and converse fluently in Mandarin. I envy him. Although I have good listening skills, my speaking is still shit. When I speak, I’m so afraid because my tongue keeps tripping over itself from lack of practice. I’m not as fluent as he is. I envy his ability to bridge both cultures without effort. I want to be him.

    The Ideal Future

    Ideally, the next generation of Chinese in Malaysia will be fluent in Chinese but also retain the ability to understand the West, like the bananas did. Of course, the danger is that they might end up leaning too much to one side—like being so pro-China that they forget other narratives exist.

    That’s why I say it’s maybe a good thing. The status quo wasn’t working well for the Chinese community. Having the Chinese community divided into English-educated and Chinese-educated wasn’t fun. When you’re like me, somewhere in the middle, it’s very odd.

    The Chinese-educated looked down on the bananas. The bananas looked down on the Chinese-educated, while secretly probably envying each other. Back then, the Chinese-educated were more envious of us, because English was the dominant business language of the world, so they felt at a disadvantage. But now it’s the other way around.

    Interestingly, more non-Chinese parents are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    #Chinese #ChineseCulture #education #languages #Malaysia
  14. The Last Generation of ‘Bananas’? How Malaysian Chinese Identity Is Transforming

    The English-educated Chinese in Malaysia are dying out, and that could be a good thing.

    I am what many Malaysians would call a banana: Chinese, but more proficient in English.

    To others, I’m not “banana” enough, because by some freak of geography and luck, I can converse badly in Mandarin and in a rare form of Hokkien, the northern version spoken in Penang. But that doesn’t mean I’m Chinese enough for the Chinese-educated, who still firmly consider me a banana because I can’t read well, nor have I read the Chinese classics. So I exist in a weird in-between place.

    But I think it’s a good thing. It has enabled me to see perspectives from both sides. And I really think it’s a privileged position to be highly educated in English and middling in Chinese education.

    The Divide

    Note: Malaysia’s education system is… complex. You can choose to go to vernacular schools where you are taught in either Chinese or Tamil, or you can choose to attend national schools (English and Malay) or international schools (mostly English).

    For the longest time, I come from a generation of Chinese who thought that Chinese education was inferior. My mother used to tell me that if I was educated in a Chinese school, I would turn out different or think differently. Just how differently, I’m never sure, but there’s no denying the gap between English-educated and Chinese-educated Chinese.

    It takes a lot of brains, effort, and motivation to burst out of these educational bubbles. As an English-educated Chinese, it’s rare for someone like me to learn Mandarin on my own. In Chinese-educated circles, you probably need a family that speaks fluent English and an interest in anything Western to escape the Chinese cultural bubble.

    As a result, some Chinese are so Chinese-centric that they only have Chinese friends, work in Chinese places, speak Chinese 98% of the time, and consume only Chinese media. On the other end, we have Chinese bananas who dwell only in English-speaking spaces, consume English media and have friends who speak in English.

    I remember a time when consuming Western media and its narratives meant you ended up mirroring them—often awkwardly, especially when you’re Chinese and don’t realize these narratives might work against you. Yet, for some reason, you still support them.

    Take 2008, during the Beijing Olympic Games. I had two banana friends with wildly different reactions. One was enormously proud to be Chinese because of what he saw on TV. The other wore Tiananmen Square T-shirts to work every day and took every opportunity to remind everyone that the Chinese government violates human rights. I sat somewhere in the middle, confused by it all, because I exist in both worlds. I understand Mandarin and Chinese perspectives, and I understand Western perspectives, but I don’t know exactly who to choose. So I didn’t choose anyone.

    One friend loves to speak French as often as she can, as if to show off how Francophile she is: I can speak French. I lived in France. I had a French boyfriend.

    The other was learning Mandarin. I look at this and think: This is what it’s like being a Chinese diaspora, conflicted between two things. I realized this is what it’s like being a Chinese banana—divorced from your culture and not knowing how or where to stand.

    Roots: The Peranakan Story

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIVa1zCjJ_w&t=1032s

    Watch this documentary above to understand the creole culture of the Peranakans or the Baba Nyonyas. These are my people. ☝️

    In many ways, I’m the same, but not torn between the West or China. I’m an unique: My ancestors are Peranakans—imagine the Creoles of Louisiana, and you’ll get the idea. This is the Malaysian version.

    Peranakans came to Malaysia in three waves. The first was during Admiral Zheng He’s time, at the height of the Ming Dynasty in the 15th century. Between 1405 and 1403 AD the legendary admiral traveled the South China Sea, Indian Ocean, and East African coast by ship. Malacca was one of his ports of call.

    Legend has it that he brought a princess who married the Sultan of Malacca, and from there descended the Peranakans. She brought a retinue of people who stayed, intermarried, and created a culture that was a mix of Malay, Chinese, and—believe it or not—British. Yes, British, because the Peranakans were Anglophiles. We adopted English dining habits, and our children were educated in English missionary schools. My family had a strong tradition of sending their kids to these schools.

    When you come from this background, what is cultural purity? I don’t understand it. All this talk about being “100% more Chinese” or more this or more that doesn’t make sense to me, because I come from a culture that happily adopted all kinds of cultural tidbits from various places.

    My ancestors were part of the second wave of Peranakans in Penang. During the fall of the Ming Dynasty around the late 17th century, many Chinese, mostly men, fled to Malaya. They intermarried with local Malay women, and many didn’t stay in Malaya. T

    They were sea merchants, often leaving home to do business abroad, which explains why Peranakan culture is very matriarchal. The women ruled the house, and the men went out to find work. I descend from these people. I am essentially mixed race, though it’s been many centuries. I look 100% Chinese, but my DNA will probably says otherwise.

    Why Bananas Are Fading

    So why do I say it’s a good thing that bananas are dying out in Malaysia? Bananas have always consumed so much Western media. Due to the language barrier, they don’t understand their Chinese side much. They don’t get the narratives as much. But now, many Malaysian Chinese families—including banana families—are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    I spoke to a Chinese banana friend who came from a banana family but was sent to a Chinese school. He honestly said he hated being educated in the Chinese school system, probably because he was a banana. There was a cultural clash. But today, he’s able to read in Chinese and converse fluently in Mandarin. I envy him. Although I have good listening skills, my speaking is still shit. When I speak, I’m so afraid because my tongue keeps tripping over itself from lack of practice. I’m not as fluent as he is. I envy his ability to bridge both cultures without effort. I want to be him.

    The Ideal Future

    Ideally, the next generation of Chinese in Malaysia will be fluent in Chinese but also retain the ability to understand the West, like the bananas did. Of course, the danger is that they might end up leaning too much to one side—like being so pro-China that they forget other narratives exist.

    That’s why I say it’s maybe a good thing. The status quo wasn’t working well for the Chinese community. Having the Chinese community divided into English-educated and Chinese-educated wasn’t fun. When you’re like me, somewhere in the middle, it’s very odd.

    The Chinese-educated looked down on the bananas. The bananas looked down on the Chinese-educated, while secretly probably envying each other. Back then, the Chinese-educated were more envious of us, because English was the dominant business language of the world, so they felt at a disadvantage. But now it’s the other way around.

    Interestingly, more non-Chinese parents are sending their children to Chinese schools.

    #Chinese #ChineseCulture #education #languages #Malaysia
  15. No China memoir has told this story
    from the inside through a dog.
    Not with this depth.

    The Four Seasons of Rascal

    Available June 15

    Amazon— paperback and Kindle.

    For up to date information, follow Rascal’s Facebook page: facebook.com/rascalfromharbin

    #dogmemories #chinamemoir #expats #expatlife #harbinwinter #memoirwriting #dogsofinstagram #chineseculture #booklover #comingsoon #memoir #memories #booksbooksbooks #books #rascal #RascalTheDogFromHarbin #rascalandfriends #RascalTheBook

  16. No China memoir has told this story
    from the inside through a dog.
    Not with this depth.

    The Four Seasons of Rascal

    Available June 15

    Amazon— paperback and Kindle.

    For up to date information, follow Rascal’s Facebook page: facebook.com/rascalfromharbin

    #dogmemories #chinamemoir #expats #expatlife #harbinwinter #memoirwriting #dogsofinstagram #chineseculture #booklover #comingsoon #memoir #memories #booksbooksbooks #books #rascal #RascalTheDogFromHarbin #rascalandfriends #RascalTheBook

  17. No China memoir has told this story
    from the inside through a dog.
    Not with this depth.

    The Four Seasons of Rascal

    Available June 15

    Amazon— paperback and Kindle.

    For up to date information, follow Rascal’s Facebook page: facebook.com/rascalfromharbin

    #dogmemories #chinamemoir #expats #expatlife #harbinwinter #memoirwriting #dogsofinstagram #chineseculture #booklover #comingsoon #memoir #memories #booksbooksbooks #books #rascal #RascalTheDogFromHarbin #rascalandfriends #RascalTheBook

  18. No China memoir has told this story
    from the inside through a dog.
    Not with this depth.

    The Four Seasons of Rascal

    Available June 15

    Amazon— paperback and Kindle.

    For up to date information, follow Rascal’s Facebook page: facebook.com/rascalfromharbin

    #dogmemories #chinamemoir #expats #expatlife #harbinwinter #memoirwriting #dogsofinstagram #chineseculture #booklover #comingsoon #memoir #memories #booksbooksbooks #books #rascal #RascalTheDogFromHarbin #rascalandfriends #RascalTheBook

  19. June 15 would be my mother's 100th birthday.
    She met Rascal.
    And always asked when I would write the book.
    It's time this story enters the world.

    The Four Seasons of Rascal —

    June 15 on Amazon.

    RascalTheBook.com

    #dogmemories #chinamemoir #expats #expatlife #harbinwinter #memoirwriting #dogsofinstagram #chineseculture #booklover #comingsoon #memoir #memories #booksbooksbooks #books #rascal #RascalTheDogFromHarbin #rascalandfriends #RascalTheBook

  20. une 15 would be my mother's 100th birthday.
    She met Rascal.
    And always asked when I would write the book.
    It's time this story enters the world.

    The Four Seasons of Rascal —

    June 15 on Amazon.

    RascalTheBook.com

    #dogmemories #chinamemoir #expats #expatlife #harbinwinter #memoirwriting #dogsofinstagram #chineseculture #booklover #comingsoon #memoir #memories #booksbooksbooks #books #rascal #RascalTheDogFromHarbin #rascalandfriends #RascalTheBook

  21. Of abandoning mother tongues and shame

    ℹ️ Now, a caveat before I go on. There’s a common narrative on left-leaning US-dominated social media that there’s a concerted effort by Beijing to stamp out native languages. This interpretation is false and propaganda, and this writer is not in the mood to educate or argue with these believers right now, and as I don’t want this thread to be hijacked by an agenda, I’ll be moderating the comments.

    This will be my only attempt at educating people on the subject: Even in Malaysia, Chinese dialects are fading, being replaced by Mandarin. There’s no concerted effort by the Malaysian government to stamp out Chinese dialects. This is all due to the power of peer and family pressure. Self-inflicted, almost. Kids feel pressured to adopt the perceived “elite language” at school or even at home. And if parents do not make a concerted effort to educate their children in the native tongue, it’ll fade.

    It happened in my family, with my siblings being total bananas, preferring to communicate most of the time in English while I am can converse in Hokkien (a Chinese language dominant in China’s Fujian province) and Mandarin. This was a choice on my part to keep learning Mandarin and speaking in Hokkien. My siblings just didn’t think it a priority, that’s all. It’s no biggie. It’s just a personal choice every individual in Malaysia may make. Now on to the essay.

    Yaqi Li’s essay, Reversed Tones and Borrowed Tongues fascinated me because, as a Malaysian, I grew up in an environment where we end up using multiple languages.

    I thought long and hard about whether I was ever ashamed speaking Hokkien, and the short answer is, No.

    In fact, I’d be surprised if any Malaysian-Chinese would feel ashamed speaking their native tongue. For as long as I lived, the Malaysian Chinese community had been fiercely determined to preserve their traditions, and that included speaking their native tongues. If anything, they’d frown at anyone who look down on their mother tongue.

    The pressure and “shame” I feel is that I was never fast or smart enough to master more languages. For example, having lived in Kuala Lumpur for most of my life, I am often side-eyed for not bothering to learn Cantonese.

    Malaysia’s unique education system—we have schools whose primary languages are either English (private schools), Malay (national schools), Chinese or Indian (vernacular schools)—meant that there’s no one Malaysian with the same command of language in any language.

    My strongest language is English despite being in a Malay-dominated national school because my family are Penang Peranakans who are Anglophiles. Even before Malaysia’s independence, the Penang Peranakans spoke English and sent our kids to missionary schools.

    At home, my parents and I speak a mixture of English and Hokkien. Among my siblings, I’m the most fluent in Hokkien and Mandarin. Mandarin was a ‘chance of geography’. I grew up in Johor, but unlike my siblings, I just naturally learned Mandarin while they didn’t.

    The Peranakans are Chinese, but we don’t really feel inferior or ashamed for not speaking Mandarin or our native mother tongue because it’s understood that most of us can’t. The Malacca Peranakans, for example, mostly speak Malay.

    One of the excuses I give when a Chinese-educated Malaysian-Chinese scoff at me for not speaking Mandarin fluently is that I am Peranakan. A look of understanding will dawn on their faces and they will say, “Oh no wonder.”

    They’re not as forgiving for complete Chinese bananas, however. They just cannot comprehend Chinese people who do not bother preserving their mother tongues.

    We also don’t feel any shame/superiority/inferiority for learning a language. When you are a Peranakan, whose culture is a blend of myriad cultures including Chinese, Malay, Thai and even British, there’s really little shame in learning a language. As I said, if anything, our shame comes from not learning more languages than we should!

    I’m an odd duck in that I have really good accents in my languages (great Malay and Mandarin accents) but my vocabulary sucks. My accent makes up for it, fooling many native speakers into thinking I’m native like them.

    So, in summary, Malaysians generally don’t really have an identity crisis over our mastery of language. However, language is politicized, with Malay trying to maintain its primacy in an English-dominated world, made even more complicated by a language-fractured education system and a population whose mastery of Malay isn’t standard or homogeneous.

    But I hear that among the Chinese educated, they do feel bad if they can’t master English. But again, only because they are supposed to. They understand how important it is to master English and their mastery of it will determine their success in business.

    But again, when most of Malaysian society is multilingual, able to switch to multiple languages (sometimes in one sentence), the shame comes from not mastering a language fast enough or adding more languages to your skillset.

    #languages #Chinese #Culture #Mandarin #Hokkien #Malaysia

    #BahasaMalaysia #China #Chinese #ChineseCulture #Hokkien #LanguageLearning #Malaysia #Mandarin
  22. Of abandoning mother tongues and shame

    ℹ️ Now, a caveat before I go on. There’s a common narrative on left-leaning US-dominated social media that there’s a concerted effort by Beijing to stamp out native languages. This interpretation is false and propaganda, and this writer is not in the mood to educate or argue with these believers right now, and as I don’t want this thread to be hijacked by an agenda, I’ll be moderating the comments.

    This will be my only attempt at educating people on the subject: Even in Malaysia, Chinese dialects are fading, being replaced by Mandarin. There’s no concerted effort by the Malaysian government to stamp out Chinese dialects. This is all due to the power of peer and family pressure. Self-inflicted, almost. Kids feel pressured to adopt the perceived “elite language” at school or even at home. And if parents do not make a concerted effort to educate their children in the native tongue, it’ll fade.

    It happened in my family, with my siblings being total bananas, preferring to communicate most of the time in English while I am can converse in Hokkien (a Chinese language dominant in China’s Fujian province) and Mandarin. This was a choice on my part to keep learning Mandarin and speaking in Hokkien. My siblings just didn’t think it a priority, that’s all. It’s no biggie. It’s just a personal choice every individual in Malaysia may make. Now on to the essay.

    Yaqi Li’s essay, Reversed Tones and Borrowed Tongues fascinated me because, as a Malaysian, I grew up in an environment where we end up using multiple languages.

    I thought long and hard about whether I was ever ashamed speaking Hokkien, and the short answer is, No.

    In fact, I’d be surprised if any Malaysian-Chinese would feel ashamed speaking their native tongue. For as long as I lived, the Malaysian Chinese community had been fiercely determined to preserve their traditions, and that included speaking their native tongues. If anything, they’d frown at anyone who look down on their mother tongue.

    The pressure and “shame” I feel is that I was never fast or smart enough to master more languages. For example, having lived in Kuala Lumpur for most of my life, I am often side-eyed for not bothering to learn Cantonese.

    Malaysia’s unique education system—we have schools whose primary languages are either English (private schools), Malay (national schools), Chinese or Indian (vernacular schools)—meant that there’s no one Malaysian with the same command of language in any language.

    My strongest language is English despite being in a Malay-dominated national school because my family are Penang Peranakans who are Anglophiles. Even before Malaysia’s independence, the Penang Peranakans spoke English and sent our kids to missionary schools.

    At home, my parents and I speak a mixture of English and Hokkien. Among my siblings, I’m the most fluent in Hokkien and Mandarin. Mandarin was a ‘chance of geography’. I grew up in Johor, but unlike my siblings, I just naturally learned Mandarin while they didn’t.

    The Peranakans are Chinese, but we don’t really feel inferior or ashamed for not speaking Mandarin or our native mother tongue because it’s understood that most of us can’t. The Malacca Peranakans, for example, mostly speak Malay.

    One of the excuses I give when a Chinese-educated Malaysian-Chinese scoff at me for not speaking Mandarin fluently is that I am Peranakan. A look of understanding will dawn on their faces and they will say, “Oh no wonder.”

    They’re not as forgiving for complete Chinese bananas, however. They just cannot comprehend Chinese people who do not bother preserving their mother tongues.

    We also don’t feel any shame/superiority/inferiority for learning a language. When you are a Peranakan, whose culture is a blend of myriad cultures including Chinese, Malay, Thai and even British, there’s really little shame in learning a language. As I said, if anything, our shame comes from not learning more languages than we should!

    I’m an odd duck in that I have really good accents in my languages (great Malay and Mandarin accents) but my vocabulary sucks. My accent makes up for it, fooling many native speakers into thinking I’m native like them.

    So, in summary, Malaysians generally don’t really have an identity crisis over our mastery of language. However, language is politicized, with Malay trying to maintain its primacy in an English-dominated world, made even more complicated by a language-fractured education system and a population whose mastery of Malay isn’t standard or homogeneous.

    But I hear that among the Chinese educated, they do feel bad if they can’t master English. But again, only because they are supposed to. They understand how important it is to master English and their mastery of it will determine their success in business.

    But again, when most of Malaysian society is multilingual, able to switch to multiple languages (sometimes in one sentence), the shame comes from not mastering a language fast enough or adding more languages to your skillset.

    #languages #Chinese #Culture #Mandarin #Hokkien #Malaysia

    #BahasaMalaysia #China #Chinese #ChineseCulture #Hokkien #LanguageLearning #Malaysia #Mandarin
  23. Of abandoning mother tongues and shame

    ℹ️ Now, a caveat before I go on. There’s a common narrative on left-leaning US-dominated social media that there’s a concerted effort by Beijing to stamp out native languages. This interpretation is false and propaganda, and this writer is not in the mood to educate or argue with these believers right now, and as I don’t want this thread to be hijacked by an agenda, I’ll be moderating the comments.

    This will be my only attempt at educating people on the subject: Even in Malaysia, Chinese dialects are fading, being replaced by Mandarin. There’s no concerted effort by the Malaysian government to stamp out Chinese dialects. This is all due to the power of peer and family pressure. Self-inflicted, almost. Kids feel pressured to adopt the perceived “elite language” at school or even at home. And if parents do not make a concerted effort to educate their children in the native tongue, it’ll fade.

    It happened in my family, with my siblings being total bananas, preferring to communicate most of the time in English while I am can converse in Hokkien (a Chinese language dominant in China’s Fujian province) and Mandarin. This was a choice on my part to keep learning Mandarin and speaking in Hokkien. My siblings just didn’t think it a priority, that’s all. It’s no biggie. It’s just a personal choice every individual in Malaysia may make. Now on to the essay.

    Yaqi Li’s essay, Reversed Tones and Borrowed Tongues fascinated me because, as a Malaysian, I grew up in an environment where we end up using multiple languages.

    I thought long and hard about whether I was ever ashamed speaking Hokkien, and the short answer is, No.

    In fact, I’d be surprised if any Malaysian-Chinese would feel ashamed speaking their native tongue. For as long as I lived, the Malaysian Chinese community had been fiercely determined to preserve their traditions, and that included speaking their native tongues. If anything, they’d frown at anyone who look down on their mother tongue.

    The pressure and “shame” I feel is that I was never fast or smart enough to master more languages. For example, having lived in Kuala Lumpur for most of my life, I am often side-eyed for not bothering to learn Cantonese.

    Malaysia’s unique education system—we have schools whose primary languages are either English (private schools), Malay (national schools), Chinese or Indian (vernacular schools)—meant that there’s no one Malaysian with the same command of language in any language.

    My strongest language is English despite being in a Malay-dominated national school because my family are Penang Peranakans who are Anglophiles. Even before Malaysia’s independence, the Penang Peranakans spoke English and sent our kids to missionary schools.

    At home, my parents and I speak a mixture of English and Hokkien. Among my siblings, I’m the most fluent in Hokkien and Mandarin. Mandarin was a ‘chance of geography’. I grew up in Johor, but unlike my siblings, I just naturally learned Mandarin while they didn’t.

    The Peranakans are Chinese, but we don’t really feel inferior or ashamed for not speaking Mandarin or our native mother tongue because it’s understood that most of us can’t. The Malacca Peranakans, for example, mostly speak Malay.

    One of the excuses I give when a Chinese-educated Malaysian-Chinese scoff at me for not speaking Mandarin fluently is that I am Peranakan. A look of understanding will dawn on their faces and they will say, “Oh no wonder.”

    They’re not as forgiving for complete Chinese bananas, however. They just cannot comprehend Chinese people who do not bother preserving their mother tongues.

    We also don’t feel any shame/superiority/inferiority for learning a language. When you are a Peranakan, whose culture is a blend of myriad cultures including Chinese, Malay, Thai and even British, there’s really little shame in learning a language. As I said, if anything, our shame comes from not learning more languages than we should!

    I’m an odd duck in that I have really good accents in my languages (great Malay and Mandarin accents) but my vocabulary sucks. My accent makes up for it, fooling many native speakers into thinking I’m native like them.

    So, in summary, Malaysians generally don’t really have an identity crisis over our mastery of language. However, language is politicized, with Malay trying to maintain its primacy in an English-dominated world, made even more complicated by a language-fractured education system and a population whose mastery of Malay isn’t standard or homogeneous.

    But I hear that among the Chinese educated, they do feel bad if they can’t master English. But again, only because they are supposed to. They understand how important it is to master English and their mastery of it will determine their success in business.

    But again, when most of Malaysian society is multilingual, able to switch to multiple languages (sometimes in one sentence), the shame comes from not mastering a language fast enough or adding more languages to your skillset.

    #languages #Chinese #Culture #Mandarin #Hokkien #Malaysia

    #BahasaMalaysia #China #Chinese #ChineseCulture #Hokkien #LanguageLearning #Malaysia #Mandarin
  24. Of abandoning mother tongues and shame

    ℹ️ Now, a caveat before I go on. There’s a common narrative on left-leaning US-dominated social media that there’s a concerted effort by Beijing to stamp out native languages. This interpretation is false and propaganda, and this writer is not in the mood to educate or argue with these believers right now, and as I don’t want this thread to be hijacked by an agenda, I’ll be moderating the comments.

    This will be my only attempt at educating people on the subject: Even in Malaysia, Chinese dialects are fading, being replaced by Mandarin. There’s no concerted effort by the Malaysian government to stamp out Chinese dialects. This is all due to the power of peer and family pressure. Self-inflicted, almost. Kids feel pressured to adopt the perceived “elite language” at school or even at home. And if parents do not make a concerted effort to educate their children in the native tongue, it’ll fade.

    It happened in my family, with my siblings being total bananas, preferring to communicate most of the time in English while I am can converse in Hokkien (a Chinese language dominant in China’s Fujian province) and Mandarin. This was a choice on my part to keep learning Mandarin and speaking in Hokkien. My siblings just didn’t think it a priority, that’s all. It’s no biggie. It’s just a personal choice every individual in Malaysia may make. Now on to the essay.

    Yaqi Li’s essay, Reversed Tones and Borrowed Tongues fascinated me because, as a Malaysian, I grew up in an environment where we end up using multiple languages.

    I thought long and hard about whether I was ever ashamed speaking Hokkien, and the short answer is, No.

    In fact, I’d be surprised if any Malaysian-Chinese would feel ashamed speaking their native tongue. For as long as I lived, the Malaysian Chinese community had been fiercely determined to preserve their traditions, and that included speaking their native tongues. If anything, they’d frown at anyone who look down on their mother tongue.

    The pressure and “shame” I feel is that I was never fast or smart enough to master more languages. For example, having lived in Kuala Lumpur for most of my life, I am often side-eyed for not bothering to learn Cantonese.

    Malaysia’s unique education system—we have schools whose primary languages are either English (private schools), Malay (national schools), Chinese or Indian (vernacular schools)—meant that there’s no one Malaysian with the same command of language in any language.

    My strongest language is English despite being in a Malay-dominated national school because my family are Penang Peranakans who are Anglophiles. Even before Malaysia’s independence, the Penang Peranakans spoke English and sent our kids to missionary schools.

    At home, my parents and I speak a mixture of English and Hokkien. Among my siblings, I’m the most fluent in Hokkien and Mandarin. Mandarin was a ‘chance of geography’. I grew up in Johor, but unlike my siblings, I just naturally learned Mandarin while they didn’t.

    The Peranakans are Chinese, but we don’t really feel inferior or ashamed for not speaking Mandarin or our native mother tongue because it’s understood that most of us can’t. The Malacca Peranakans, for example, mostly speak Malay.

    One of the excuses I give when a Chinese-educated Malaysian-Chinese scoff at me for not speaking Mandarin fluently is that I am Peranakan. A look of understanding will dawn on their faces and they will say, “Oh no wonder.”

    They’re not as forgiving for complete Chinese bananas, however. They just cannot comprehend Chinese people who do not bother preserving their mother tongues.

    We also don’t feel any shame/superiority/inferiority for learning a language. When you are a Peranakan, whose culture is a blend of myriad cultures including Chinese, Malay, Thai and even British, there’s really little shame in learning a language. As I said, if anything, our shame comes from not learning more languages than we should!

    I’m an odd duck in that I have really good accents in my languages (great Malay and Mandarin accents) but my vocabulary sucks. My accent makes up for it, fooling many native speakers into thinking I’m native like them.

    So, in summary, Malaysians generally don’t really have an identity crisis over our mastery of language. However, language is politicized, with Malay trying to maintain its primacy in an English-dominated world, made even more complicated by a language-fractured education system and a population whose mastery of Malay isn’t standard or homogeneous.

    But I hear that among the Chinese educated, they do feel bad if they can’t master English. But again, only because they are supposed to. They understand how important it is to master English and their mastery of it will determine their success in business.

    But again, when most of Malaysian society is multilingual, able to switch to multiple languages (sometimes in one sentence), the shame comes from not mastering a language fast enough or adding more languages to your skillset.

    #languages #Chinese #Culture #Mandarin #Hokkien #Malaysia

    #BahasaMalaysia #China #Chinese #ChineseCulture #Hokkien #LanguageLearning #Malaysia #Mandarin
  25. Xi Pushes for "Independent Knowledge System" in Chinese Thought

    China's President Xi Jinping wants social science and philosophy to have 'Chinese characteristics' and be independent from other countries. This means more focus on Party theories.

    #ChinaKnowledge, #SocialScience, #XiJinping, #ChineseCulture, #IndependentSystem

    newsletter.tf/china-pushes-for

  26. Xi Pushes for "Independent Knowledge System" in Chinese Thought

    China's President Xi Jinping wants social science and philosophy to have 'Chinese characteristics' and be independent from other countries. This means more focus on Party theories.

    #ChinaKnowledge, #SocialScience, #XiJinping, #ChineseCulture, #IndependentSystem

    newsletter.tf/china-pushes-for

  27. Xi Pushes for "Independent Knowledge System" in Chinese Thought

    China's President Xi Jinping wants social science and philosophy to have 'Chinese characteristics' and be independent from other countries. This means more focus on Party theories.

    #ChinaKnowledge, #SocialScience, #XiJinping, #ChineseCulture, #IndependentSystem

    newsletter.tf/china-pushes-for

  28. President Xi Jinping wants China to build its own knowledge system for social sciences and philosophy. This is a push for ideas that are uniquely Chinese and support the Communist Party's goals.

    #ChinaKnowledge, #SocialScience, #XiJinping, #ChineseCulture, #IndependentSystem
    newsletter.tf/china-pushes-for