I have resisted trying to learn written Chinese for a long time. It was like trying to read a forest of wind-whistled leaves and twigs. To wit: 我的中文的名字大树. Then I gained interest as I discovered the unbelievably magnetic symbolism attached to some of the characters.

Now I know 我的中文的 字大树 means “My Chinese name is Da Shu” (“Big Tree”, which is my Chinese nickname) and I can read simple “Jane meets John” Chinese. Wow! I am now nearly seven years old. Let’s take or ming. The top part of the character, above the 口, is an archaic word for night. And 口, kou, is aptly the character for mouth. Going back through many centuries a person could only be recognised or acknowledged at night if he answered to the calling or mouthing of his name. Hence mingzi, 名字, which means: name.

As I grow I am discovering some marvels. For example, mamahuhu has the same meaning as our “not very good” or “sort of” as a disappointed response to the question, “did you enjoy the movie?”

I teach Chinese children English and “mamahuhu!” is my typical response to my Chinese students more lame-brained answers. But I only recently discovered that the written form, 马马虎虎,literally means “horse horse tiger tiger.” Huh? So every time in China we are disappointed with the service or product we are saying horse horse tiger tiger?

“Anything else you’d like from the buffet counter, sir, madam? asks the waiter of the disgruntled couple.
“It’s horse horse tiger tiger,” replies the gentleman with a soft belch, patting his lips with a napkin.
“Gosh sir, ha ha, we do have a wide variety of choice meats but not actually those at this precise moment in time. We do have some excellent shark or zebra … just smashing with that merlot I see you have … ”

I had to find out how on earth the written characters for mamahuhu came about.

The repetition of ma and hu was easy enough. Chinese love to repeat words for emphasis. In an argument saying “that’s correct” is dui but they are unable to say it just once. It has to be exuberantly blasted out at least three times, dui dui dui like balled bits of paper through a pea shooter peppering your victim’s neck.

But at first no Chinese person could tell me the origin of mamahuhu. To them it does not mean horse horse tiger tiger, as the original “sense” of the written characters has died in that particular context. Then my Chinese teacher, the brilliant, young Wei Qian, told me the story. Here is a MacKenzie-ised version:

Once upon a time, an artist living near a village tried to eke out his living by selling paintings or inviting the local villagers to his cave to look at his art. They could come and look around for a small fee.

The villagers amused him by doing so though he was not thought of as a good artist. One day a strikingly fresh painting blazed on his cave wall. It was an animal rearing up to the sky. “What a wonderful tiger!” gasped one villager. “It’s not a tiger,” exclaimed another villager. “It is a horse.” “You’re wrong,” said another villager, “of course it’s a horse, just look at its eyes and ears … ”

The crowd grew and soon a huge hubbub of people arguing filled the cave. The artist, a responsible aesthete, deigned not to comment or give his interpretation as he saw this was his moment to gain fame. But eventually his wife shooed out the crowd as she wanted herself and her husband to have dinner in peace. The villagers all descended the hill shaking their fists at each other and shouting “horse horse!” “tiger tiger!” at one another. There was almost a riot. The next day the villagers got together to restore peace and agreed that the artist – now suddenly famous in the area – had simply drawn another somewhat less than average horse/ tiger painting, where, for God’s sake, you could not even tell if it was a tiger or a horse.

And so, needless to say, the expression mamahuhu was born.

I think I will keep up these blogs on the Chinese language as at the rate the global recession is going and China’s ongoing economic expansion, her people mostly debt-free, we may all end up having to learn Mandarin, or at least learn to imitate some of the sounds. Monkey monkey parrot parrot?

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Rod MacKenzie

Rod MacKenzie

CRACKING CHINA was previously the title of this blog. That title was used as the name for Rod MacKenzie's second book, Cracking China: a memoir of our first three years in China. From a review in the Johannesburg...

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