Chinese Characters--look for the story

I’m teaching my daughter and her friend how to write Chinese characters as part of their weekly lesson (see my post from last week about our new Chinese language co-op).  Since they are also encountering new vocab and grammar patterns almost every week, I try to introduce only one or two new characters at a time.

Instead of forcing my daughter and her friend to copy the new characters hundreds of times (which was how I learned...and then promptly forgot), I look for creative ways to keep the characters fresh and alive in their minds.  One idea that I've been looking into lately is  imagining the character as part of a larger drawing and/or making up a story about that drawing. 

Illustrator, author, and graphic designer Christoph Niemann does this brilliantly in The Pet Dragon. He illustrates the meaning of Chinese characters by making them part of his illustrations for a story about a little girl named Lin Lin and the little dragon she receives as a gift. For some characters, Niemann employs the historical meaning of the pictograph (i.e. the character for “person” is meant to look like a walking person; Niemann draws this  character on top of a walking Lin).  But for others, Niemann creates his own interpretations of characters (i.e. the character fu, father, becomes Lin’s angry father’s eyebrows and moustache).  

Niemann is upfront with his intentions for this book—it is not to teach Chinese but to inspire kids to learn more. And that's what I loved about the book: it inspired me to look for the story, whether intentioned or unintended, in the characters. By asking my daughter and her friend to help create the story, this will help them remember the character—or at least that's my theory.  I'll let you know how it turns out!

How do you help kids remember Chinese characters?

Will she ever dream in Chinese?

We’ve begun a new year of Chinese lessons in our household. This year my friend and I are trying something entirely new. We’ve formed a small co-op and are team-teaching our girls Chinese.  With my background in the Chinese language, I contribute to the linguistic side of our lessons and she, the master teacher, finds new and creative ways to make our lessons “stick.”

This past week, I watched my daughter process a sentence from a story I was telling them.  “Lùlù yào yī zhǐ xiǎo gǒu” (Lulu wants a small dog), I stated.  

She looked at me quizzically, “Huh?” and held up her index finger, which is our sign for "please say it one more time.”

“Lùlù yào yī zhǐ xiǎo gǒu,” I repeated. 

She looked out of the corner of her eye thoughtfully and held up two fingers (the sign for two more repeats). 

“Lùlù yào,” I broke the sentence up into fragments. “Lulu wants,” she translated out loud.

 “yī zhǐ,” I continued.

“That means one,” she said.

“xiǎo gǒu,” I finished.

“Xiǎo is little and gǒu means dog,” she responded.

“So what did I say?” I asked again.

“Lulu wants a small dog,” she beamed.  And I did too, because she patiently analyzed the sentence, bit by bit, and--despite being confused at first--successfully completed the translation.

Later that night,  I wondered, "Will she ever dream in Chinese?" Will she, at some point, become  fluent in this language that right now feels so strange in her mouth and mind? And when will she be able to transition from translating word for word to thinking and responding automatically in Chinese?

Do I even remember when this happened for me?

I remember sitting in first year Chinese in college, hearing my teacher speak and trying desperately to make the cogs in my brain turn faster.  During the second year, my teacher spoke Chinese only during class and although I quickly began understanding what he said, I struggled in my responses, stuttering and sputtering, as I tried to first translate in my mind what I wanted to say from English to Chinese, and then repeat this phrase as imagined out loud.  At some point during the following five years, my brain made the switch and I started to respond, think, and yes, even dream in Chinese.

I know that my heart will swell with pride if and when my daughter gets to this point, but for the time being, I am thrilled that she is learning the language, even if it is bit by bit.

***The title for this post is from a book I'm currently reading by linguist Deborah Fallows, which is about her experience as an American in China, as seen through the lens of learning the Chinese language. 

Ten Years and Counting

Last week my husband and I celebrated our tenth anniversary with a box of chocolates (from Pure Imagination Chocolatier in the North Market, Columbus for my Central Ohio readers...yum!). As I thought about years past, I realized that the love of good food has played a central role in our romance. 

I knew I was in love when on our first date, a tall, handsome Chinese man made me pasta with sautéed shrimp and set the table with linens and lit candles.  I was a vegetarian at the time, but his cooking was so good that I didn't bring up the subject until much later in our dating relationship (and then I happily converted back to an omnivore--my choice).  

Later, our dates revolved around finding the best fresh-roasted coffee beans and hand-rolled sushi in town.  We dined at fine restaurants and local food trucks, and cooked regularly for friends.


      


 When we planned our wedding, we capped our guest list at around 100 and held the event in the morning so we could afford to serve each of our guests tasty breakfast fare that included peach-stuffed french toast and smoked salmon. In order to afford a delicious cake, we skipped fondant and sugar decorations, and used extra flowers from the florist instead for decoration. 

After we married, we continued to pursue our growing gourmand tastes on a chicken-of-the-sea budget, eating simple noodle dishes throughout the week so we could afford a sushi splurge on the weekend or a yearly trip to our favorite local Japanese restaurant--that was the size of a shoebox and often had a line out the door.  


Ten years down the road, we still enjoy sharing good food. It's a passion, a hobby, a joy, but stronger bonds hold us together--our love for each other, our faith, and our children. In this season of life, we are enjoying teaching our kids to cook and introducing them to new tastes.  

Last night, all four of us watched spellbound as PBS chef Ming Tsai sliced a green papaya. The fact that we each found this simple but precise task amazing tells me that the pursuit of cooking and eating good food is something we will enjoy as a family for many years to come.