Knowing Makes for Easy Steering

Scratching your head at this seemingly half-baked idiom? Read on and you will find the answer at the end of the blog (be forewarned that it’s in Chinese). But don't be like me who simply cannot refuse the temptation to do just that, bypassing the challenging journey and perching myself right at the score line. That's what happens when I read Marilyn von Savant's Ask Marilyn column in the Parade Magazine, a Sunday supplement to newspaper throughout US. Invariably there will be a word game (anagram, looking for connection among disparate words, etc.) and I will immediately end up turning the paper upside down, without fail, 'cos that's how the answer is printed. One of my many weaknesses indeed. But you don't have to be like me. So read on.

As I said in my previous post, Chinese is my mother tongue. Of course we speak other dialects as well, depending on the clans that our ancestors hailed from China. But Chinese, the written form, and Mandarin, the spoken form, has always been the preferred medium of communication. Even the English-educated (at least in my hometown) can rattle off in rapid succession conversational Chinese. Another prime example of total immersion at work.

Being my mother tongue, it seems learning Chinese is so natural and easy. Phrases automatically form in the mind and emit from the mouth, and responses are processed and registered effortlessly. So much so that we Chinese native speakers do not realize that Chinese is one of the toughest languages to learn, let alone master, in the world.

And the Chinese characters. I still remember writing the same character to fill up an entire page, several words a day, until at the end of it I can almost memorize the order of the stroke. For pronunciation, we would read aloud passages, first en masse, then individually. Then there would be reciting passages from memory. I guess this constant drilling is no different from learning English.

Through the tri-prong methodology of "read it, write it, and speak it", 24/7 (even the dialogue in the dreams), using Chinese, really by force of habit, permeated every facet of my life. I also got hooked on reading Chinese martial art novels. This genre of Chinese writing has a long tradition dating back to the Tung Dynasty. I think it evolved from such old classics like the Romance of the Three Kingdoms and the Water Margin and developed into its own niche. The heroics of a student avenging the death of his master teacher, that of a orphan growing up to defeat the imperialistic ambition of a warlord, intertwined with convoluted love triangles, are the favorite themes. Some are long on historical accounts and attempt to stay true to historical events in the overall setting such as the uprising against the Yuan Dynasty (Mongolians) and the Ching Dynasty (Manchurians) but deviated in details for dramatic effects.

I remember being cocooned in my room, laying on the bed with the novel in hand, and imagining myself in the role of the hero (not unlike the role-playing fantasy video games that kids today love to engage in, but minus the visual display since every action takes place in the elevated sphere of the mind), swatting away all resistance to the righteous end and emerging victorious over all evil. Many a time my mother had erroneously assumed that I was busy studying, which I was, to certain extent.

Another genre is romance novels, labeled at times as the gray literature as the ending is invariably divorce, love lost, and the dear departed. It seems that the protagonists always preoccupy themselves with plotting for love/favor. There is no worry of earning a living. But these I soon grew out of, no less because of the detachment from reality portrayed in them. This is not saying that the martial arts genre is any more real, but I guess it still holds fascination for me till today simply because of the male psyche that longs for action heroes, the good old triumph of the good over the evil.

Actually, other genres of DIY, motivation, non-fiction abound too. But these seem to attract a more mature readership, to which I currently belong. But somehow they just don't evoke a feeling of familiarity, a natural flow of adventure gleaned from reading English books.

Lately, I'm into Buddhist books that elevate the already beautiful Chinese phraseology into a higher realm that seems surreal. But lest we detract ourselves, being taken in by the form of the prose, the deep thoughts of compassion, caring, understanding life as a constant change, impermanence are what we should take from the messages and hold steadfastly to.

I think I'm at a unique confluence where the East and the West converge, having absorbed the respective ethos that each offers and blended them into some sort of "unified" worldview: progressive and humanistic. And a world citizen with the world at heart, in my own small little way.

Nothing comes easy in life. Then again nothing seems difficult if you put your mind to it. That's how I become more than functionally bilingual. It also explains the congruent view I have with one of the Laws of Simplicity cited in a previous post:

The more you know something beforehand, the simpler it will ultimately be perceived.

If by now you're still at sea as to the relevance of the Knowing Makes for East Steering, don't despair since it is my own fabrication and you'll be the judge as to whether the East and the West shall meet, in me that is, or not.

Now click on the first comment and Presto!