It's easy for us in the West to take for granted that Asians feel compelled to assume English names when immigrating to our countries. In fact, our culture demands it. While we're accommodating to all the Diegos and Stanislavs and Gethsemanes who come from other distant corners of the world, for some reason we refuse to cut any slack to Dong Hyun, Zhen Yi, or Yusuke. "Can I just call you John?" is what most of us would ask.
I've generally been sensitive about the names I use for my
foreign friends. When I become close to someone, I'll ask what their native name is. Half the time, my
acquaintance prefers his English name. "Don't ever call me Ming Han. Only
my mom calls me that, and usually when she's mad." The other half the
time, I get a response like, "I love my Chinese name. I only picked an
English name because I felt I had to, so I'm really happy if you call me Wei
Cheng."
"Patrick" and "Alan" |
There was a telling moment when I was staying in Taiwan. My
friend from Malaysia, Shen Siung, came to visit me and my friend Tzuching.
These were the names I had always known them by. Yet when they met, they called
each other Patrick and Alan. Here I was trying to respect their culture by
using their proper Mandarin Chinese names, but even with each other, these two
Chinese men reverted to English names. I was astounded. I looked at them both
and asked what was going on.
Shen Siung said, "You Westerners don't know how to
pronounce our names properly." But you guys aren't Westerners, I
replied. After some more probing, I got what he meant: Western
culture imposed on them spellings that even they couldn't understand. The
confusion was borne out of the antiquated and byzantine system of romanization
that Taiwan and Malaysia had adopted. During the discussion, I came to realize
that I had been mispronouncing their names since the days when I first met them, and they were
too polite to correct me.
Learning Chinese in Taipei |
The method of romanizing Mandarin Chinese used by the
Taiwanese was invented in the mid-1800s by academics named Wade and Giles, and
thus it was unsubtly christened the Wade-Giles system. However, the system
recognized by the International Organization for Standardization is a creation
from the mid-1950s called pinyin. Because it was developed by China's Communist government, the Taiwanese shunned pinyin to distinguish a
separate identity from the mainland. Fully adopting pinyin would have been seen by many as a form of linguistic treason. (Pinyin has been used to some
degree in Taiwan for the past decade, but more about that later.)
Consider the grief that this stubbornness causes. Coming
back to my friends Shen Siung and Tzuching, here are their names in pinyin:
Shan Xiong and Zi Jing. Actual pronunciation: Shan Shee-ong and Dz-Jing.
Neither Wade-Giles nor pinyin represent an exact phonetic transliteration (the linguistic term for "translating" a character-based language into a phonetic alphabet), but
which one do you find more accurate?
Learning pinyin, a writing assignment from week-one of Chinese class. |
To be frank, there is actually no single perfect system of
transliterating Mandarin Chinese into our Roman alphabet. That's because there are
subtle sounds in Mandarin that don't have an English equivalent. (In
linguistics, these sounds are called phonemes.) For instance, our ch
phoneme comes from placing the tongue on the roof of the mouth, coming out like
chuh. In Chinese, there are two ch phonemes – one similar to
ours, and another made with the tongue extended closer to the teeth, sounding like chee. It's the same with sh – one from the
front of the mouth, another from the back.
The challenge in romanizing Chinese is to imagine new
letter combinations that represent these different phonemes. Between Wade-Giles and
pinyin, the most accurate in many people's opinion is the latter.
Many aspects of Wade-Giles resemble a bit of a linguistic
joke. Take, for
instance, Peking. That was the old spelling of China's capital city
before the nation formally adopted pinyin in the 1970s. (Peking was actually a French-missionary spelling, not Wade-Giles, which would have been Peiching, but still an interesting example.) I had always been
curious as to why China changed the name to Beijing. But, in fact, bay-jing
has always been the pronunciation.
In Taiwan, however, they continue to insist on phonetic spellings
that often bear no relation to actual pronunciation. The city of Kaohsiung is
one good example. Kow-see-ung is how I always spoke it. In fact, it's
closer to gao-shee-ong. And did you know that Taipei is actually tai-bei? In fact, there is a method to the Wade-Giles madness, a formula to explain how "k" becomes "g" and "p" becomes "b", but it's not worth explaining here, as it remains understood only by academics. The Taiwanese layman generally has no clue as to the workings of the nation's transliteration system.
This is not to say that pinyin is flawless. With the example
of Kaohsiung, the pinyin spelling is Gaoxiong. The "x" would throw
off native English speakers. It's not easy to intuit that it represents a sh
phoneme. However, here's what pinyin does to make the learning and intuition of
the system easier: it makes use of redundant Roman letters to represent
phonemes that aren't replicated in English. While the letter combination "sh" in
pinyin represents its English equivalent, "x" represents the softer sh
with the tongue extended. Similarly, "ch" is self-explanatory, but
"q" is the letter that represents ch with the tongue moved toward the teeth.
Wade-Giles is misleading by taking common letters and
changing their vocalizations. Let's look at Kaohsiung again. The sound of the
letter "k" in English is made with a burst of air but no
vocalization. The letter "g" is like "k" but with a
vocalization. Why should the "g" phoneme end up being represented by
the letter "k"? Again, we can look at Peking (Peiching) and Taipei – the
"b" phoneme (made with vocal chords) ended up being represented by
the letter "p". You will find this replacement of vocalized and
non-vocalized letters and phonemes all throughout the Wade-Giles system.
When pinyin needs to use a letter to represent a phoneme not found in English, it uses letters with similar English phonemes, making the
pronunciation of a word easier to intuit. With that in mind, look at the
difference between Tsingtao and Qingdao, the same Chinese city before and after
pinyin was adopted. Neither has a completely intuitive spelling for native-English
speakers. But the former version uses "ts" for a soft ch phoneme, and "t" (non-vocalized) for d phoneme (vocalized). In
pinyin, the temptation might be to pronounce Qingdao as king-dow, but
once you learn that the "q" is a soft ch, it's not as hard to wrap
your head around that as it is to think of "t" forming a d phoneme. The old spelling of Tsingtao has the potential for a reader to misunderstand two phonemes, whereas the pinyin Qingdao only offers one misleading phoneme. It's not perfect, as no language system is, but it does the job more efficiently.
So that explains the problem Westerners have pronouncing
names that use the Wade-Giles system. We meet Mao Tse-Tung and we pronounce his
name phonetically. In fact, it's not t-see-tung but dzeh-dong.
(Wade-Giles even changes the phonemes of the vowels by using tung for dong.) The pinyin spelling, Mao
Zedong, is more likely to elicit a correct pronunciation, making Mr. Mao less
likely to say, "Just call me Dave."
Try it with this Wade-Giles name: Hsien Chiu. Did you say huh-see-en
chee-oo? Now in pinyin: Xian Jiu. I bet you're closer to the actual pronunciation: shee-an jee-oh.
I am not a linguist and I have not done any studies or
serious readings on this subject. I am in no way an expert. However, I think my
layman's observations are probably more relevant than an expert's opinion,
because you shouldn't have to be an academic to pronounce the name of the
street you see on a map, or a city you want to visit, or to greet a new friend
or employee.
I should also state that I have simplified Taiwan's
linguistic predicament in this post for the sake of clarity. It's actually more
of a mess than I let on. Taiwan did adopt something called Tongyong
Pinyin between 2002 and 2008, which was a sort of compromise that would have
allowed Taiwan to ditch Wade-Giles while not conforming to mainland China's
system. Standard pinyin (called Hanyu Pinyin) has since been adopted
officially, but the government continues to abide with a jumble of systems – in
Taipei (Wade-Giles) you can find Jhongjheng Road (Tongyong Pinyin) and visit
the Xindian district (Hanyu Pinyin) or take the train to Tamsui (Wade-Giles). Birth certificates and passports in
Taiwan, as far as I can tell, are still being issued mostly with Wade-Giles
transliterations.
All of this just creates unnecessary stumbling blocks for
those of us who are learning Chinese and must use some form of romanization to
grasp pronunciation. Westerners living in Taiwan can regale you with stories
about the inanity of signs being replaced and re-replaced, and systems being
adopted, modified and reverted, depending on which party (the pro-China KMT or
the pro-independence DPP) is in power, which county or city you're in, or which
constituency is most vocal about its preference at any given time.
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