ktravula – a travelogue!

The Year of the Tiger

I’m beginning to consider the possibility that I might have been Chinese in my former life. The more I think about it, the more I remember instances in which the Chinese people, or the Chinese language has revolved around me. One of my favourite FLTAs at our orientation in Providence, Rhode Island was Chinese, and she taught me to write my name and my country in Chinese, and I’d given up of ever having such a chance again.

But today, I had another chance or reunion with my adopted spiritual home in the continuation of the events marking the “Discover Languages Month”. Last week was Yoruba. this week is the celebration of the Chinese new year, called The Year of the Tiger, and the student of Chinese had come out to exhibit their skills and knowledge of the language. Supervising the event was none other than Professor Lavalle, the teacher of Chinese language and literature whom I’d blogged about a few days ago. As special attraction, there were marshmallows and chopsticks, and interested competitors can win one of several Chinese toys and artifacts if they could only hold the chopsticks right and move the marshmallows from one bowl into another.

"My name is Chinese Kola"

I had never had marshmallows before, so it was nice that I showed up. Afterwards, after devouring them all, with my hands – of course, I began to wonder why it was sooo sweet in the mouth. I also had dates, which were nice, and then a fortune cookie which predicted that I was about to become $8 poorer. Tell me what kind of a “fortune” cookie is that? Later, I walked up to the stand where calligraphy was being exhibited, and I had my name written, again, in Chinese. I can’t read it now, but I believe the Chinese guy who wrote it. And Prof Lavalle was there. I believe that he would have told me if it was wrong. More than that, I also confirmed that I had not forgotten the few words of Chinese that I know: Ni hau for “hello” and Shi-shi for “thank you. When next I get free time, I think I will be making a trip to Beijing.

If it helps, Chinese is a tonal language, just like Yoruba. Professor Lavalle had also told me on our first meeting that what he read of my poems reminded him of Chinese poetry, as opposed to the prosy and “confessive” nature of American poems. It is supposed to make me feel better, I guess, that my peripatetic spirit has now has more links to the Orients than I like to acknowledge?

Maybe this is why I like Jackie Chan so much. Blood is so thicker than water. 🙂

The Year of the Tiger was published on February 10th, 2010, with the tags , , , , , under the Academic, adventures, Art, Fun, Observations category. There are currently 6 comments on this article so far.

On Chinese Poetry

Professor Tom Lavalle is a great man. He is soft-spoken, he has sparse beards that cover much of his chin, and he smiles a lot. And he speaks Chinese! He is an American Professor in my department and he learnt, speaks and teaches Chinese language and literature. Isn’t that amazing? I met him for the first time on Monday even though we had been communicating a lot through email, and even though his office is just a stone throw from mine. For all I know, we may have gone past or maybe even bumped into each other more than once since August without knowing. For sure, the image of him that I had in my head before meeting him was not of someone of such height and demeanour. Why I had the preconceived image in my head, I have no idea. All I know is that when I met him, I was pleased. He is a pleasant person to talk with.

During the first email exchanges we had before we actually met, he had sent me these few translated poems from Chinese which I loved, so on meeting him, conversation inevitably turned to the subject of Chinese poetry and language and how it had influenced Japanese language and literature as well, especially in the form of writing. I learnt so many new things, about him, about China and about writing, language and culture. Why an American would be interested in Chinese poetry is not a question I would always ask, but I did ask for his own motivations, and I found them rooted in a craving for private space in the solace of words. He is a poet himself, writing in English, and his contact with Chinese writings had sparked a different kind of interest in him that has been sustained up to the present day. And because of him, students of this department now have the chance to learn Chinese language and culture at SIUE, and take field trips to a country of so much intriguing history.

Because of meeting him, one day I hope to start learning Chinese. I don’t know where to start from though, whether on a lesson in good calligraphy or on a lesson in Chinese alphabets which I am very sure is larger than the English one. And unlike many of the students who register for the class, my motive will not really be in anticipation of, and preparation for the new world order where Chinese is spoken as a first language by all world citizens, but to access many of the different forms of expression of thought buried within the texts of old and classical Chinese poetry.

Well, maybe I lie when I say that, but how would you know?

“Drinking Wine” #4 of 4

Tao Qian (365-427)

Autumn chrysanthemums have beautiful color,

With dew on my clothes I pluck their flowers.

I float this thing in wine to forget my sorrow,

To leave far behind my thoughts of the world.

Alone, I pour myself a goblet of wine;

When the cup is empty, the pot pours for itself.

As the sun sets, all activities cease;

Homing birds, they hurry to the woods singing.

Haughtily, I whistle below the eastern balcony –

I’ve found again the meaning of life.

(Translated by Wu Chi-liu)

On Chinese Poetry was published on February 4th, 2010, with the tags , , , , under the Academic, adventures, Fun, Travelling category. There are currently 3 comments on this article so far.