China Hope Live » Family

Mommy Wars: foreign moms vs. Chinese ayis

Joel 大江 — Fri, 02 Mar 2012 00:21:29 +0000

Conventional wisdom says that politics and religion don’t make polite small talk topics — they’re too contentious and people routinely fail to disagree respectfully. But there’s a third equally volatile, if perhaps overlooked, small talk landmine: parenting. And if you thought the disparity of good parenting opinions was wide among foreigners, imagine the scathing looks of scandal and judgment exchanged between foreign mothers and Chinese ayis across the preschool classroom. You can read a sample here: Everything is Dangerous: Taking care of children in China.

Foreign mothers and ayis generally make no attempt to talk to one another. During the slightly calmer snack break, ayis congregate around the table of children eating to keep a constant vigil as the mothers retreat to the back walls for a hard-earned chat with their girlfriends. The resentment is clear from both the ayi and the Chinese teachers, who delight in any chance to scoop up the plate of a fumbling child or help push in a chair, all the while staring daggers at the negligent chatting mothers. It was abundantly clear what was on their mind: they were doing it right, and we Westerners had a lot to learn. And maybe, in a way, they were right.

Parenting differences between Chinese and foreigners routinely generate loads of mutual amusement and scandal. Here’s a few of our own amusing experiences:

The suspiciously Orwellian children’s story 《鸭子农夫》 “Farmer Duck” Chinese-Pinyin-English read-along

Joel 大江 — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 21:35:04 +0000

The children’s story 鸭子农夫 (Farmer Duck) is fun to read out loud, usefully repetitive for language learning, and contains some interesting vocab. And as a special China-related bonus, it’s ominously, vaguely Orwellian. If you’re the kind of person who doesn’t let your kids watch The Smurfs for political reasons, then you probably won’t like this book.

You can mouseover the Chinese text below to see the pronunciation and translation, or download a PDF that has the Chinese, pinyin, and back-translated English.

Download: Yazi-Nongfu.pdf

鸭子农夫

从前有只鸭子，和一个农夫一起生活。鸭子要干所有的活儿，农夫只管整天赖在床上。

鸭子到地里把牛牵回来。
农夫嚷嚷：“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
鸭子回答：“嘎嘎！”

鸭子到山上把羊驮回来。
农夫嚷嚷：“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
鸭子回答：“嘎嘎！”

鸭子把鸡赶回鸡舍。
农夫嚷嚷：“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
鸭子回答：“嘎嘎！”

农夫从早到晚躺在床上，胖得不成样子。
鸭子没日没夜辛苦干活，累得快要崩溃了。

“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
“嘎嘎！”
“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
“嘎嘎！”

“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
“嘎嘎！”
“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
“嘎嘎……”

“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
“嘎嘎……”
“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
“嘎嘎……”

可怜的鸭子又困又累又伤心。

牛、羊和鸡很爱鸭子，他们都为朋友感到难过。
于是大家趁着月色，精心安排起第二天一早的行动。
“哞哞！”牛说。
“咩咩！”羊说。
“咕咕！”鸡说。
好，就这么定了！

天还没有亮，农场静悄悄。
牛、羊和鸡从后门偷偷溜进农夫的房子。

大家轻手轻脚进了走廊，踩得楼梯吱吱作响。

他们一起挤到农夫的床下，使劲往上顶啊顶，床开始摇晃。
农夫被惊醒，又嚷嚷起来：“活儿干得怎……”

“哞哞！”
“咩咩！”
“咕咕！”
大家拱起床，农夫叫嚷着。
大家挤挤撞撞把床掀，
农夫轱辘轱辘滚下来，
重重得摔到地板上。

农夫拔腿就跑，牛、羊和鸡紧追不舍。
“哞哞！”
“咩咩！”
“咕咕！”

一直追到小路上……
“哞哞！”
穿过田野……
“咩咩！”
翻过小山……
“咕咕！”
农夫再也没有回来过……

清晨，鸭子疲惫不堪地晃进院子里，
等着听那句——
“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
咦，竟然没有人说话！

牛、羊和鸡回来了。
“嘎嘎？”鸭子问。
“哞哞！”牛说。
“咩咩！”羊说。
“咕咕！”鸡说。
大家把事情的经过告诉了鸭子。

“嘎嘎” “哞哞” “咩咩” “咕咕”
从此以后，农场里充满了欢乐的声音。

And they all lived happily ever after:

“Four legs good, two legs better!”

Download: Yazi-Nongfu.pdf

Other children’s story Chinese translation read-alongs:

We’ve also given some popular Chinese songs similar treatment (plus guitar chords!):

The suspiciously Orwellian children’s story 《鸭子农夫》 “Farmer Duck” Chinese-Pinyin-English read-along

Joel 大江 — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 21:35:04 +0000

You can mouseover the Chinese text below to see the pronunciation and translation, or download a PDF that has the Chinese, pinyin, and back-translated English.

Download: Yazi-Nongfu.pdf

鸭子农夫

从前有只鸭子，和一个农夫一起生活。鸭子要干所有的活儿，农夫只管整天赖在床上。

鸭子到地里把牛牵回来。
农夫嚷嚷：“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
鸭子回答：“嘎嘎！”

鸭子到山上把羊驮回来。
农夫嚷嚷：“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
鸭子回答：“嘎嘎！”

鸭子把鸡赶回鸡舍。
农夫嚷嚷：“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
鸭子回答：“嘎嘎！”

农夫从早到晚躺在床上，胖得不成样子。
鸭子没日没夜辛苦干活，累得快要崩溃了。

“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
“嘎嘎！”
“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
“嘎嘎！”

可怜的鸭子又困又累又伤心。

天还没有亮，农场静悄悄。
牛、羊和鸡从后门偷偷溜进农夫的房子。

大家轻手轻脚进了走廊，踩得楼梯吱吱作响。

他们一起挤到农夫的床下，使劲往上顶啊顶，床开始摇晃。
农夫被惊醒，又嚷嚷起来：“活儿干得怎……”

“哞哞！”
“咩咩！”
“咕咕！”
大家拱起床，农夫叫嚷着。
大家挤挤撞撞把床掀，
农夫轱辘轱辘滚下来，
重重得摔到地板上。

农夫拔腿就跑，牛、羊和鸡紧追不舍。
“哞哞！”
“咩咩！”
“咕咕！”

一直追到小路上……
“哞哞！”
穿过田野……
“咩咩！”
翻过小山……
“咕咕！”
农夫再也没有回来过……

清晨，鸭子疲惫不堪地晃进院子里，
等着听那句——
“活儿干得怎么样啦？”
咦，竟然没有人说话！

牛、羊和鸡回来了。
“嘎嘎？”鸭子问。
“哞哞！”牛说。
“咩咩！”羊说。
“咕咕！”鸡说。
大家把事情的经过告诉了鸭子。

“嘎嘎” “哞哞” “咩咩” “咕咕”
从此以后，农场里充满了欢乐的声音。

And they all lived happily ever after:

“Four legs good, two legs better!”

Download: Yazi-Nongfu.pdf

Other children’s story Chinese translation read-alongs:

We’ve also given some popular Chinese songs similar treatment (plus guitar chords!):

Chinese adoption scare: stolen babies

Joel 大江 — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 21:36:11 +0000

We know a guy who used to run an adoption agency in China but quit doing it because it was just too sketchy for him to handle. The NYT reports on adoptions from China and baby trafficking: For Adoptive Parents, Questions Without Answers

“If the government is utterly corrupt, and you have to take an orphanage a donation in hundred-dollar bills, why would you think the program was ethical? … Now you have to give $5,000 as an orphanage fee in China. Multiply that by how many thousand adoptions. Tens of millions of dollars have flowed out of this country to get kids, and you have no accounting for it.”

UPDATE: In a response to the above article, Dr. Jane Aronson of Worldwide Orphans Foundation prescribes some global context:

“Why did we create such a marvelous bureaucracy to improve international adoption practices and not pour some of that money into the welfare of mothers in these countries? It seems immoral to me to accredit US adoption agencies and to not empower women from sending countries to make international adoption a well-thought out choice for a birth mother no matter what her economic status. We do this for all domestic adoptions in the US. If we educated women abroad and showed some respect for their process, we might find that some women would still opt for their children to be adopted…even changing some attitudes about domestic adoption in very poor nations.”
[Link: The Trouble With International Adoption Is not Trafficking: It's the Global Orphan Crisis]

For more on adopting from China:

Belatedly starting to understand my Asian Canadian high school classmates

Joel 大江 — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 15:58:08 +0000

Greater Hongkouver is loaded with Asians. There’s the “University of Brilliant Chinese” (UBC), and it has the fastest way to get from India to China (the Alex Fraser Bridge). There are two Chinatowns, and whole shopping malls that are 100%-Chinese-language-English-is-absolutely-unnecessary (we’ve gone there to practice Chinese). The parents of Taiwanese kids I’ve tutored complain that their kids speak Chinese all day at their Canadian public high school. Even 500 years ago when I was in high school, I had no shortage of Korean and Chinese classmates (most of us couldn’t tell them apart, at least I know I couldn’t!).

Of my high school classmates (small high school, 50 kids in my graduating class), I can specifically remember five who, while certainly Asian and from Asian families, fit in well with the rest of us. I didn’t consciously talk or relate to them any differently, though I remember once or twice one girl getting annoyed if someone thought she was Chinese: “I’m Korean!” she’d emphatically reply in 100% native-speaker English (sorry, Jennie! ;) ). But aside from those five, our class also had a small group of Asian girls who, from my perspective at the time, were nearly invisible. They were the quietest and most unobtrusive students in our class; they kept to themselves and I can’t remember them ever speaking up in class. I have memories of coming up the stairs, seeing them huddled together by the lockers, but never talking loud enough to be heard.

I recently read Yell-Oh Girls! by Vickie Nam (ed.), 2001, a book of essays by Asian American high school and college freshman girls where they talk about their experience of growing up as TCKs (though they don’t use that term). There’s one particular essay that really made me think of my old classmates, especially that group of quiet girls; I wonder how much this essay does or doesn’t resonate with their experience. It’s unfair in the sense that it compares American cultural ideals to the worst side of particular aspects of East Asian cultures, from the view of a teenager, but it’s still an eye-opening read. You can read the whole essay and more at this googlebooks link. Here’s an excerpt:

“Identity Crisis” by Michelle Chang, 17.

Being Taiwanese American is supposed to give me all the benefits of two rich, vastly different cultures, when in reality, every cultural influence from either side makes it impossible for me to be accepted by the other. Everyone who is Taiwanese considers me American. Everyone American considers me Taiwanese. It’s like standing with one foot planted on the side of a crack that continually widens with time. For every time I thought I actually belonged to either side, there have been five times when I’ve felt entirely lost, bereft, and on my own. When I begin to feel comfortable in one environment, something brings me back to reality. I don’t fit in anywhere.

“Do your parents encourage you to speak your opinions?”

I sit listening to the teacher in an orange chair in the warm classroom, half asleep from yesterday’s grueling six-hour gymnastics workout. Leaning over the desk with my head down in my arms, I try not to attract attention to myself; I am content to listen to, but not participate in, the discussion of a book. Slightly interested, I hoist my head up to watch the other students’ reactions. Of course, the ones whose parents have encouraged them to form opinionated minds are the first to respond.

Someone answers, confidently, “My parents were extremely oppressed and not allowed to voice their opinion, so they try to encourage me to always say what I think.”

Well, then, that was profound, safe, and politically correct. Intelligent, creative, thoughtful answers like these scream, I’m trying my hardest to let you know that I see everyone as an individual and I know that everyone is equal. Their preposterous self-righteousness makes me want to laugh, but instead, I put my head back on the desk and close my eyes.

I consider the question, too, but what could I say?

“Well, actually—no, not really. My parents’ opinions were suppressed; therefore, they silence mine as part of traditional Asian beliefs. I supposedly have no opinion, because as my parents’ daughter, I have no right to an opinion.” Besides, according to my parents, it’s not right to talk about personal, family matters. And now I’m wide-awake. My teacher’s question has reminded me once again of my inner conflict: I don’t belong here or there.
[…]
The generation gap that separates teens from their parents makes communications difficult; in my case, it’s more than twice as bad, not only because my parents are extremely conservative, but because they’re extremely conservative for even for Taiwanese parents. They seem to think that they can raise us exactly the way their parents raised them in Taiwan; the fact that we’re living in the United States a quarter century later apparently means nothing to them. Even though I was born here, I go to school here, and I spend eleven months of every year here, I’m supposed to be 100 percent Taiwanese. Clearly, it doesn’t work, and it’s obvious that I don’t belong in Taiwan. Regardless, they continue to try to make me into something I’m not.

Imagine being unable to lock (or even close) your door for any reason, ever. Imagine being punished for listening to WILD 94.9 radio, not because of the sex and violence contained in the lyrics, but because the music is a sign of how “American” you’ve become. Imagine being treated as if you were less important in the family because you are a girl and because your last name will be lost when you marry. Imagine having to listen constantly to sexist, racist or homophobic ranting and getting punished for expressing an opposing viewpoint. Imagine a place where staying silent when you disagree is not enough; you must vocally agree and submit to their power. Imagine having to follow a course of action that will lead you nowhere, simply because your elders are always right—even when they’re wrong. Imagine living in constant fear of being disowned by your family were you to do something wrong. Imagine having you entire life plotted out for you without your opinion or consent. Any deviation from a prescribed path is impossible.

Imagine all this, living in a country supposedly built on liberty and equality for all, while going to school in a supposedly open-minded environment, where independent thought is encouraged. The home environment inevitably has an impact on everything else, especially school. For instance, how can I participate in class and present opposing views when it’s expected that, at home, I shouldn’t have an opinion at all? How can I choose my own classes, my own path, make my own decisions, when my parents have already made them for me?

Living in the U.S. has instilled me with more American than Taiwanese values; I think we should develop strong, personal opinions and foster creativity. I believe in freedom, equality, and nondiscrimination, wherever these issues might be problematic. Unfortunately, for me, my parents have been more successful than they know in inscribing certain Taiwanese values ideas in me. I feel uncomfortable talking to anyone about my personal problems, or even presenting my own ideas. I’m never happy with anything less than perfection. I see things skewed through the window of my own experiences…

If you’re interested in reading more about Chinese American and Asian American identity, I found these worth reading for the cross-cultural angle:

On the blog, there’s more about Vancouver, our own reverse-culture-shock experiences, raising a foreign kid in China, and Chinese parenting：

Eric Carle’s “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” in Chinese! 好饿的毛毛虫

Joel 大江 — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 18:51:59 +0000

We found more than one Chinese version of Eric Carle‘s “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” online, and together with our tutor tried to combine the best parts of each. Here’s our most recent draft. Mouseover the Chinese text to see the pronunciation and definition. Suggestions for improvement are welcome!

好饿的毛毛虫

月光下，一个小小的卵躺在树叶上。

一个星期天的早晨，暖暖的太阳升起来了——啪！——从卵壳里钻出一条又小又饿的毛毛虫。

他四下寻找可以吃的东西。星期一，他啃穿了一个苹果。可他还是觉得饿。

星期二，他啃穿了两个梨子，可他还是觉得饿。

星期三，他啃穿了三个李子，可他还是觉得饿。

星期四，他啃穿了四个草莓，可他还是饿得受不了。

星期五，他啃穿了五个桔子，可他还是饿呀。

星期六，他啃穿了一块巧克力蛋糕、一个冰淇淋甜筒、一条酸黄瓜、一片瑞士奶酪、一截萨拉米香肠、一根棒棒糖、一小角樱桃派、一段红肠、一只杯形蛋糕、还有一块甜西瓜。到了晚上，他就胃痛起来！

第二天，又是星期天。毛毛虫啃穿了一片嫩嫩的绿树叶，这一回他感觉好多了。

现在他一点儿也不饿了——他也不再是一条小毛虫了。他是一条胖嘟嘟的大毛虫了。

他绕着自己的身子，造了一座叫做“茧”的小房子。他在那里面呆了两个多星期。

然后他就在茧壳上啃出一个洞洞，钻了出来……

他变成了一只美丽的蝴蝶！

Download the text (汉字/pīnyīn/English): HaoEdeMaomaochong.pdf

More Bedtime Stories in Chinese:

Eric Carle’s “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” in Chinese! 好饿的毛毛虫

Joel 大江 — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 18:51:59 +0000

好饿的毛毛虫

月光下，一个小小的卵躺在树叶上。

一个星期天的早晨，暖暖的太阳升起来了——啪！——从卵壳里钻出一条又小又饿的毛毛虫。

他四下寻找可以吃的东西。星期一，他啃穿了一个苹果。可他还是觉得饿。

星期二，他啃穿了两个梨子，可他还是觉得饿。

星期三，他啃穿了三个李子，可他还是觉得饿。

星期四，他啃穿了四个草莓，可他还是饿得受不了。

星期五，他啃穿了五个桔子，可他还是饿呀。

第二天，又是星期天。毛毛虫啃穿了一片嫩嫩的绿树叶，这一回他感觉好多了。

现在他一点儿也不饿了——他也不再是一条小毛虫了。他是一条胖嘟嘟的大毛虫了。

他绕着自己的身子，造了一座叫做“茧”的小房子。他在那里面呆了两个多星期。

然后他就在茧壳上啃出一个洞洞，钻了出来……

他变成了一只美丽的蝴蝶！

Download the text (汉字/pīnyīn/English): HaoEdeMaomaochong.pdf

More Bedtime Stories in Chinese:

Intercontinental Jet-lag with a Toddler is Like…

Joel 大江 — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 11:39:40 +0000

Jessica’s Facebook status after our second night in Vancouver, BC:

Jet-lag with a toddler is the stuff of which bad dreams are made. Except that you’re awake.

It’s 4:37am Vancouver time (7:37pm Tianjin time), and she’s in her crib singing Sunday school songs and Happy Birthday in Chinese and having conversations with her stuffed animals in English. Feel free to commiserate and/or share your advice/secrets/magic tricks below!

Intercontinental Jet-lag with a Toddler is Like…

Joel 大江 — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 11:39:40 +0000

Jessica’s Facebook status after our second night in Vancouver, BC:

Jet-lag with a toddler is the stuff of which bad dreams are made. Except that you’re awake.

Sunday morning overflow at the Shanxi Lu Three-Self church in Tianjin, China

Joel 大江 — Sun, 29 May 2011 05:33:39 +0000

According to one of the greeter/usher/crowd-control guys (who just became my best friend for finding me a place — out of range of all the āyís and their unsolicited advice — where I could change a mid-Sunday school poopie diaper), the Shanxi Lu Three-Self church can hold almost 1600 in the pews. These pictures are from this morning, half-way through the early (8:30) service, outside the overflow room where people who couldn’t get seats inside the main split-level auditorium or who can’t climb stairs watch the proceedings on a video screen.

Looks like they ran out of stools.

People were even camped out around the corner listening through the side doors and windows of the overflow room:

I would have had better pictures, but these were all I was able to squeeze out of my dead camera batteries if I let them rest in between shots.

Shanxi Lu is the biggest of the four Three-Self churches in Tianjin. “Three-Self church” means a legal, registered Chinese church that is officially under the “Three-Self Patriotic Movement”, which is one of two Party organizations controlling all legal Protestant church activity in China (there are other organizations that control the Catholics). The term “three-self” is a missiological term from the 19th century referring to missionaries’ desires to have local churches be “self-governing, self-supporting and self-propagating.”

ABC News’ “True Believers” feature has recent reportage on the legal, illegal-but-tolerated, and illegal-and-not-tolerated churches in China.