MAY 2022
www.thenanjinger.com
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
7
Nanjing Nomads
8
Editorial
9
Poem Legacy
10 Word Nerd; On Names and Naming 14 My Beautiful Fragrance; Chinese vs. Korean Naming Traditions 16 Don’t Mess with Mr. Zero; The Names Chinese People Choose for themselves 18 My Double “E”; A Story of Surnames, Identity & Formula 1 “Pilots” 21 The Gavel What’s in a Name? Matriarchal Clans vs. Britain vs. Portugal
24 When Locals Say they Know Better; It’s “Luhe” not “Liuhe”! 26 Great Nanjingers (22) Left Wing Movie Director who was Critics’ Darling; Shui Hua
27 Nankinish Delights Eat Duck Like a Nanjinger: Where, What and How
29 Capital Constructs ~6~ Deji Plaza
30 Our Space
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
6
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
Editorial
John Doe
C
revisit her favourite place and person; Ug in his cave with his coffeemaker, although he may in fact have been called “Kushim” (p.10-12).
Therein the clue to this month’s theme.
Also this month, Nahee Kim returns to tell us why she’s called “overwhelming happiness” in her home of Korea (p.14-15).
hinese people, you may have noticed, have a thing for tartan. Is it because they identify with the fabric’s purpose to not only keep one cosy, but also as a means of identifying one family from another?
Now, are you a Zhang, Wang, Li, Sun or Chen? There’s a good chance of it, or do you take after something a little more unusual? You may in fact be called “Mr. Zero” (p.16). Before that, regular contributor and minstrel, Triona Ryan, has an excuse to
Finally, Rita Andreetti makes her debut in our fiction section, but just as she departs Nanjing. How does the song go?”; You say goodbye, I say hello”. Welcome to “Names” from The Nanjinger.
Ed.
S
can the QR Code to visit The Nanjinger on WeChat, from where you can download a free PDF of this issue, find a full list of distribution points for hard copies or arrange a subscription to have The Nanjinger delivered to your home or office! This magazine is part of a family of English publications that together reach a large proportion of the foreign population living in Nanjing, along with a good dash of locals, comprising: The Nanjinger City Guide www.thenanjinger.com Facebook, WeChat, Twitter & Instagram
All of the above are owned and operated by HeFu Media, the Chinese subsidiary of SinoConnexion Ltd; www.sinoconnexion.com
8
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
My late grandfather’s name abides in historyan heroic epithet of times past, engraved in brass. It rose high above this earth to face dark, flacked fears that those dear might breathe free air. When he passed, flags dipped. A bugle called The Last Post. My father’s name in stoneware is impressedintemporally held in the very earth out of which his dreams find form, tested and hardened in flame, his name will ever live in the changing shapes and slips, borne of many hours of art, of craft, and of his love. Will my name, on a shifting shore, be etched in sandpic’ed, swallowed by a trillion bytes and, in an unforgiving sea of likes or retweets, be drowned? How has it come to be that our names might now lack legacy? That they now rot into obscurity long before our dusk. Yet, let each rising son bring hope…
By M ait iu Bra lligan ‘2 2
9
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
By Triona Ryan
10
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
“To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world …” Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, “The Little Prince”
N
aming is to humans as photosynthesis is to plants. It is but one of the fundamental attributes of the human condition, yet perhaps one of the most curious and endearing. On a video call with my brother last week, he took a gulp of scalding hot tea from a mug I recognised. “Hey, that’s mine,” I said, admiring once again the sheer volume of it, the very thing that had caught my eye on the charity shop shelf all those years ago. But we both know that the mug belongs to him now. After all, he was the one who named it; Big Brown. Indeed. We name “to identify, symbolise, refer, describe, simplify, organise and, most importantly, to tame”, says the Encyclopaedia Britannica. Cave paintings from prehistoric times universally include handprints, much like these childhood relics parents preserve from kindergarten; clay imprints of baby hands made long before dexterity allows for the act of writing. There is something inherently human about leaving a mark. Some of us shorten our names. Some of us cast them off and adopt new ones. Nowadays, we name cars, (Khalesi Car), musical instruments (Black Mamba), plants (this I have never done, most likely because I will inevitably end up killing them, more on that to follow), pets (Gabo, Valentina, Frida), toys (Foxy Loxy, Lula); the list is endless but not without its limitations. We do not tend to name livestock, for example, and there is a good reason for this. Nicholas Epley, Professor of Behavioral Science at the University of Chicago, ascribes this tendency to name inanimate objects to human cognitive and emotional intelligence.
Known as anthropomorphism, we name objects with which we have formed an emotional attachment or consider as extensions of our identity. Hence my brother’s naming of the tea mug, and my reticence to name my houseplants. If each of my plants had a name, then each death would mean a constant funeral in my heart, much the same as farmers do not name animals earmarked for the slaughter. Needless to say, some objects are rarely named; the lavatory for example, or the nose hair trimmer, which may be because they are rarely referenced in public discourse or because of their expendability. Though naming a boat or a coffee machine may seem like a mere eccentricity, it actually goes far deeper, revealing a need to bond with and exert control over the named object. Or person. We cannot know the earliest human names. I like to imagine cavemen names, Ug, and Thunk and Fred, but these have been lost to us. The spoken word is ephemeral. Charles Darwin postulated that the earliest humans communicated with each other by singing, just like birds. Imagine that dawn chorus! All we have conclusive evidence of, however, is that which has been preserved in writing. One of the earliest names ever recorded comes from Sumar, in Ancient Mesopotamia, where some of the first written records were discovered carved in clay tablets. These detailed the economic transactions of barley, and are thought to be signed by “Kushim”. Some scholarly debate arises as to whether Kushim is actually a name, or a role, like “slave” or “barley counter”, but in that case, why sign it
11
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
at all? So, there you have it. Kushim; the very first name recorded in writing in our species. Most ancient peoples, like Kushim, made do with mononymic names, much like “Madonna”, or “Cher”; though in Ancient Greece these were more like “Sophicles", “Euripedes" or “Pythagoras”. As population grew, this mononym was expanded to allow for further identification or specification of which Pythagoras the speaker was referring to. By adding “Son of Mnesarchus” to the name, the listener could then be sure of which Pythagoras the speaker was on about, assuming that they stuck around for long enough to listen to that mouthful. This is known as a patronym. Back in Ancient Athens and other Greek states, patronymic names; those related to the male ancestry, have been in use since approximately 3000 BCE, though raiding hoards and book burners after that time have erased many valuable cultural artefacts. They also form the basis for most naming practices around the globe. Prefixes “Mac” (son of) and “Ní ” (daughter of) are common in Gaelic surnames and have been recorded as early as the 10th century CE in Ireland and Scotland. They signify the practice of creating surnames by designating the child as begotten of the father. My surname in Gaelic is Ni Ríain, daughter of Ryan. Perhaps for this reason, in this particular case, I prefer the anglicised version. The Ancient Greeks also paved the way, in written texts at least, as influencers when it came to the use of demotic surnames, those based on “deme” or a particular place. Diogenes of Sinope is one example of a birthplace used as a demotic surname. Of course, many texts which would have completed the holes in our knowledge were set aflame by raiding Viking and Barbarian tribes in the period between the
late 5th to the 10th century in Europe. Regardless of this, it would appear that surnames were not common in Europe until around the 13th century, many of which were based on a location; Brooke, Marsh, Hill, again using the demotic and patronymic forms of surname generation. Though this may seem like a rather swarthy leap through history, surnames were not commonplace among the general populace in Africa, and Korea or Japan until the 18th and 19th Centuries respectively. The reasons for this require a whole ‘nother ramble. Interestingly, it is here in the Middle Kingdom that one of the few examples of matronymic naming systems exists, where surnames were generated from the mother’s name. Historians posit that in China, surnames first existed in noble clans, the surnames of which use the female radical “女” in the Mandarin character for surname, for example Ji (姬), Jiang (姜), Yao (姚) and Yíng (嬴). This system was phased out in favor of a patronymic one cerca 1000 BCE, with all names thereafter reflecting the patrilineal legacy. Curiously, this trend is beginning to reemerge in recent years, according to Xu Qi, a Nanjing based sociologist. The reasons are manifold; an emerging feminist campaign for matrilineal naming practices, the increasing prevalence of female children within one-child families and the increasing presence of women in the demographic, educational and political spheres, to name but a few. A handprint. A yoke. A sign of love and belonging. A means of self-actualisation or revealing who’s your daddy. Whatever way you look at it, the act of naming is so very human, it transcends the boundaries of time and place, connecting us to the past, the present, and to each other. Making us, and our cars and pets and mugs “unique in all the world.”
12
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
By Nahee Kim
“Smith”. “Kim”. “Li”. “Devi”. These are all surnames from different parts of the world. I was never very interested in names, or the meanings that are behind them. I merely believed that names were labels meant for identifying who is who. However, as I arrived at China and began to go to a school where many people from all around the world come together, I started to recognise how interesting and different both first names and surnames from different places in the world truly are. Not only did I see this through meeting friends from Germany, China, France, Slovakia and more, I also realised this through people from my own culture; that of Korea. When I lived in Incheon, South Korea, I came across very few surnames. Nearly always, the people I encountered would have the surnames of “Kim" (a very common surname and the one that I have), “Lee”, or “Park”, all of which are extremely typical surnames in Korea (which, by the way, also each have their own special meanings). But after I enrolled in an international school in Nanjing, I somehow was able to see and learn that there are many more Korean surnames, such as Min, Gong, Oh, or even two-syllable surnames, which I did not know existed. I was also able to open my eyes to hidden meanings and reasons behind these names; "Kim" has the meaning of “metal” or “gold”, “Lee" means "plum tree" and “Park” means “gourd”. This led me to think about first names as well; why would a person’s parents name someone a certain way? Would it be to match their firstborn sibling’s name? Or would it have a beautiful meaning derived from an ancient language? Or would it just be a wordplay that means something concise and sweet? As for me, my name is made of ancient characters; “Na” meaning “unsure of what to do” and “Hee” meaning “happiness”, which therefore translates my name to “overwhelming happiness". From what I’ve heard, my mother and father had consulted a professional that thinks up the ideal names for babies based on their star signs, birthdays, where they were born, etc., in order to find the best name according to their date and time of birth. It’s a tradition in Korea; to seek the help of a professional to name a child in such a way that would bring them the most happiness.
Speaking of which, utilising the meaning of words to create individual names for babies is also a custom in China. Each name is specifically chosen in order to represent certain qualities, as well as to ensure that the child has a bright future, which is why most names for babies are identical. Parents also consider using the correct number of strokes in the characters of the name, as well as somehow integrating the five elements (fire, water, earth, stone, and wood) so that the name is balanced. Something else to consider in a child’s name is their horoscope (and birthday). While there should be statistically few identical names, having been chosen from a canon of over 10,000 characters, in reality the same names keep popping up, as used by parents due to their good meaning. These include “mei” (美), used widely for girls due to its meaning, “beautiful”; “fang” (芳), which means “fragrance"; and “min" (敏), meaning "clever". Chinese people often also do not give their child a name for their first few months of life, as it is believed having elegant, beautiful names invites demons and evil spirits into their lives. For demons are assumed to cause illness and premature death in babies, and therefore parents might not give a name at all, or even call their infant by a negative name until they grow up and become stronger so that they could ward off evil spirits. Call a child by a name such as “Dog" or "Ugly" and demons will run a mile. Today of course, many Chinese people choose to create English names for themselves too, quite often when they enter an important stage in their lives, such as going to university or getting married. And of course foreigners may have trouble pronouncing Chinese names; one of the benefits of Chinese people transitioning to using both Chinese and English names is that international interactions become more convenient and easier. Naming is a significant part of our lives, as it is not only a label meant for differentiating between people as I formerly thought, but because it is also a part of our identity. Our names can brings us happiness, they can show what our families think of us, and perhaps what traits we have. This is true for not only our names from our birth, but also the names we have in other languages too, because they are what connect us with other people on the international stage. 15
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
K
THE NAMES CHINESE PEOPLE CHOOSE FOR THEMSELVES
now anyone with a dog named “Coca Cola”, shortened to “Cola” (可乐 )? Turns out that is also in fact a real life surname for a human in China.
By Frank Hossack
Now everywhere has weird names. In the western world, many are the result of marriage whereby a maiden name is lost to a new surname which, when combined with the forename, can have some pretty hilarious consequences. This correspondent’s sister’s name rhymes, for example (it’s in French so the pronunciation might be a little lost here, but you get the point). Much fun has also been made during the last decade of the English names Chinese people choose for themselves. How may people do you know called Echo, Unicorn, even Stone and Mr. Zero (Remember him, and how we’re not to mess with him?). Writing as to the economic opportunity for Chinese youth, Geoff Gibson noted in a 2017 article for this very publication, “Emilys can send out forty resumes in Australia and will get at least some responses. Echos will get none. Claires will get interviews. Apples won’t. Jessicas will, in many cases, get the jobs they want in Sydney or London but, alas, there will be none for Unicorn.” But the fact is, sometimes the Middle Kingdom can give its people some pretty weird Chinese names too. Meet Mr. Plaza (广场), Mrs. Exhibition (展览), Miss Car (汽车) and Master Temperature (温度), all real-world Chinese surnames, albeit they admittedly few and far between. These odd Chinese equivalents of double-barrelled surnames are not the end of the story. For China would not be China if there weren’t any people named after numbers, preferably those implying economic prosperity. It should therefore not come as a surprise that there exist a few folk wandering around today surnamed “Hundred” (百), “Thousand” (千), “Billion” (十亿) and “Trillion” (兆). Care should be exercised with the last; it also means “omen”. But not every “number name” may be financially auspicious. Because yes, there is also a Mr. Zero in China. “Ling” (零) is indeed a surname, but again, thankfully, like the Echoes and Unicorns before him, a very rare one. 16
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
Adapted from a real-life experience
S
A Story of Surnames, Identity & Formula 1 “Pilots” urnames stick to you. Like skin, you can’t actuallychange them.You get tanned orbitten by insects, but cells are always there to remind you that this is your shape for ever and ever.
Surnames just staywith you, even ifyou legally change them. Is it a burden? A sin? A blessing? I always keep in mind how huge the fights were in the past around surnames and caste. How huge a matter it was for a patriarch to ensure that his lineage was maintained as long as he could live and breathe. I understand that, both in the case that you are special and unique or that you are the most common one. I respect it.
So, I have always been a double “E” and a double “ T ”. I’ve always been somebody that since the very beginning of her talkative life, should have articulately repeated her last name letter by letter. It is actually not that big of a matter in Italian, you don’t really need spelling in Italian.You only need to pronounce it clearly because every letter has its own sounds, so there are no mistakes. But when you’re just a little girl who is a few years old trying to introduce herself to adults, and they consistently ask you to repeat your surname, well... then you just wish to delete it. Forget it. Just call me by my simple-four- letters-name, I’m fine.
18
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
Daddy felt embarrassed as well. By then, he was a chubby short boy, he was struggling with Italian. He would have preferred to speak his dialect since he came from a modest countryside family. Well, his problem was even worse, since his first name was as troublesome as our surname. He was a shy overweighted impossible-to-be-pronounced-name boy. What a nightmare. Very often he would remind me how hard his youth was because of this double “E” and double “ T”. How messy papers were if his voice was too low to make it clear to the receiver. How heavy those letters were, at the beginning. Once he told me that he had desperately wished more than once to have just one simple silly name. “Bu”, (which in English would be pronounced Boo). Something like, “Hi, chubby puffy little cutie lovely boy, what’s your name?”. And he would just say, “Bu”. Two letters; just one “B” one “U”, no mistakes. I know how stupid this seems. But trust me, I totally sympathised with him by then; we felt the same shameful vibration every time we heard that question, the one which every social life begins with. How did he grow up with this? Well I think that at some point, you just do it. To me it was like being the only one. Yes, I was special not only because of that awkward sound, but because unlike every other friends of mine, I had my grandma’s surname. You didn’t really have much of a choice if you got knocked up by singer, a fascinating traveller who would have entertained different girls after you, especially from the countryside. You couldn’t really have a choice. Keeping your family name and staying with your family was the only way to keep yourself alive in the misogynistic society that was the provincial North Eastern Italian countryside at the time. So my super-duper granny who had guts raised a child by herself and against the whole world; a child who carried her and her brothers and sisters’ own family name. And that was her pride; to not share her child’s identity with anyone else. I kept this in mind every time somebody needed to confirm that my surname was actually written with double “E” and double “T”.
Then, at some point of my life, but still too early, there was this very famous Formula 1 driver, who unbelievably, carried MY unique surname. Or better, people thought we had the same surname. And of course, when you are thought to carry the same family name, the first question you are asked is:, “Are the two of you relatives?”. But no no no. This American, he maybe came from an Italian family, but, gosh, he only got a miserable lonely puny “E”. Just one. And you cannot compare my outstanding impossible to pronounce double “E” with a single one. That was my turning point; when I started to understand that my fear of this word, because at the end of the story it is still a word, was about to swallow my identity. And my identity, remember, my skin, well everything was in there, in that family name. Our whole story, the strength of my grandma, the fight of my father, everything was in there, in that awkward dissonant and unique double “E”. So, I had first to cope with that, accept it and then make it mine. Alright, I actually needed to find a way to get it properly under control and proudly mine. If correctly pronouncing an Italian word wasn’t enough to stop people from staring at me with that dopey look, I found my own strategy. The “surname-with-double-’E’-and-double-’T’”. It goes together now, as if was a single word without space nor pause. You have to say it in one single breath. As if it was a prayer. Because if you show yourself reluctant in any of this passage, you will receive “the look” back. I can’t stand it anymore, come on. Eventually, I found the point when I’ve outgrown this too. There was once somebody that told me something very precious. When I told him my full name, he was so enthusiastic, and I mean genuinely enthusiastic, and exclaimed, “Wow, this is so director-style”. It sounded good. I don’t really care about being famous, but I’d like to see my double “E” and “T” respected because they belong to me. I am not a single letter. I am an unusual combination of two vowels and two consonants that got together hand in hand, and walk straight and hard as armour. Take that, Formula 1 single “E” pilot. By… Rita Andreetti
19
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
The Gavel
Legal notes from The Nanjinger in association with:
D’Andrea & Partners Legal Counsel
What’s in a Name? Matriarchal Clans vs. Britain vs. Portugal
F
rom a historical perspective, the main function of "surname" is to "separate marriage", that is, to distinguish blood relationship. In China, the progress and development of society has resulted in the legislation of surnames also changing accordingly.
Mainland China On the mainland, the concept of surname can be traced back to the matriarchal clan period of primitive society. In those days, only the identity of a child’s mother was known, the father not. The "surname" was born in the patriarchal clan society. With the increasing scale, parts of the population were divided in order to facilitate management. Therefore, "branches" were generated on the basis of surname. As the sun set on the Qing Dynasty, especially after the rise of the New Culture Movement, the complex names of the ancients, as a symbol of feudal culture, gradually disappeared down the long river of history. After the founding of PRC, the Marriage Law of 1950 was promulgated. Therein, Article 11 of Chapter III clearly stipulates that husband and wife have the right to use their own surnames and first names. Since then, women have been encouraged to keep their own surname in overthrow to the previous situation.
Taiwan Article 1000 of the Family Code of the Civil Law of 1929 promulgated by the National Government in Nanjing stipulates, "The wife shall be preceded by the husband's surname, and the redundant husband shall be preceded by the wife's surname with his own surname, unless otherwise stipulated by the parties”. The principle is to take the husband's surname as the principle and the absence of the husband's surname as the exception. However, in real life, except for the fashions of the upper class, ordinary take the exception as the principle and most women do not take the husband's surname. In 1998, the Article was amended thus: "Each husband and wife shall keep their own surname. However, they may agree in writing that their own surname shall be preceded by the spouse's surname and registered with the household administration authority”. For the younger generation in Taiwan, whether to take the husband's surname or not depends more on the free choice of both husband and wife.
Hong Kong When it comes to Hong Kong, the proportion of married women in Hong Kong's political and business circles with theirhusband's surname is higher than in other industries; for example, Fuzhen Chenfeng (Margaret Chan), the first Chinese Director General of the World Health Organisation; and Yuee Linzheng (Carrie Lam), the first female Chief Executive of Hong Kong. Prior to 1971, there were no special marriage regulations for Chinese people in Hong Kong. They jointly regulated marriage in accordance with the laws and regulations of the Qing Dynasty, Chinese traditional customs and the British legal system. Under British customary law, the right of name is an important part of the personal relationship between husband and wife. Affected by this, Hong Kong women should adopt their husband's surname after marriage, or precede their own surname with their husband's surname. After the death of her husband, the widow can still use her husband's surname. As for those civil servants in Hong Kong, the permanent pension terms for those who do not take their husband's surname or precede their own surname with their husband's surname become temporary. Therefore, in order to win recognition, promotion and their own pension, women in politics have tended to precede their own surname with their husband's. Since 1971 however, Hong Kong has successively promulgated the laws and regulations which effectively protect women's rights in marriage, education, inheritance and land inheritance, childbirth, employment and taxation. They no longer need their husband’s surname.
Macao Over in Macao, the situation of women taking their husband's surname is similar to that in Taiwan and Hong Kong, according to the relevant laws and regulations that have developed over time and the colonial culture left by Portugal in Macao. With changes in laws and concepts as to surnames confirming women's increasing awareness of choices and rights, in the final analysis, diverse options for women in society is not to provoke gender opposition, but to liberate more forces to promote social progress beyond stereotyped ideas.
DISCLAIMER This article is intended solely for informational purposes and does not constitute legal advice. Although the information in this article was obtained from reliable official sources, no guarantee is made with regard to its accuracy and completeness. For more information please visit dandreapartners.com or WeChat: dandreapartners 21
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
By Frank Hossack
E
veryone knows it’s hard enough to learn Chinese in the first place. But then regional dialects impact upon the way things are spoken as opposed to how they are written. And to make matters worse, the Romanisation of Chinese remains something of an inexact science. Before I was first sent to China in 1993, my boss at the time would talk about a place called Peking in one sentence, and Beijing in the next. I thought they were two different cities. That’s the first problem, as we will come to later. Now on to Nanjing. No, Nanjing. Aren’t they the same thing? No. One is here in Jiangsu and the other is in Fujian Province. The difference, of course, lies in the Chinese characters for their names, the former being “南京” and the latter “南靖”. So, yeah. Pinyin is already revealing its inadequacies. While the pinyin for our smaller cousin to the south is 100 percent correct today, 100 years ago, it may well have been “Nanqin”. That’s because before its standardisation as pinyin in the 1950s, there were countless ways to render Chinese characters as Roman equivalents, based on their pronunciation.
As yet another barrier to those wishing to learn Chinese today, there are still many examples of these archaic Romanisation systems in use today. As our first witness, we call Tsingtao Beer (青岛啤酒) to the stand, as the brewer retains on its bottles the old Romanisation to this day, while the rest of the world simply flocks to the beaches of “Qingdao” (and that brewery). A bit further north, in their excuse for a capital, there are Peking University (北京大学) and Tsinghua University (清华大学), respectively “Beijing” and “Qinghua” today. The most fun of all, however, is to be had when local people completely ignore that the authorities decree to be a place’s official name, believing quite rightly that they know better. For example, many a student in Nanjing will tell you that Hehai University (河海大學) is of course pronounced, “Hohai University”, and would not in a million years contemplate going by anything else. Elsewhere, over in Hebei Province, there’s a place called Leting (乐亭). But that’s silly to the locals, who prefer the moniker, “Laoting”.
24
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
Even more complicated, there are places which change their pronunciation but are unable to fllow suit with the pinyin. To our southeast, in Zhejiang Province, find Taizhou (台州), the “Tai” of which locals pronounce using first tone, not second tone. The same goes for Lishui (丽水), where they use third tone to say, “Li”, not forth. Saving the best for last. Nanjing’s finest example of the local dialect for a place name not following its official version is our northerly district of Liuhe (六合). The Nanjinger renders it thus, but perhaps we should forgo the continuity on which we pride ourselves in this case, since the entire populace says, “Luhe”. And as can be seen above, the local pronunciation has become such an accepted part of the lexicon that the Nanjing authorities have paid homage to the fact in the English on its road signs. Perhaps pinyin has its uses, after all.
25
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
Great Nanjingers (22)
Left Wing Movie Director who was Critics’ Darling; Shui Hua By Frank Hossack
Shui Hua (水华) was a film director and screenwriter who maintained artistic integrity while also appealing to the general public with his simplicity and a subtle but clear personal style. Born in Nanjing on 23 November, 1916, Shui devoted himself to left-wing drama activities when he was as young as 15. This was to forge the foundation of his career and make him posthumously more and more relevant today. In 1933, Shui enrolled the law department of Fudan University in Shanghai and the following year served as a member of the Nanjing Branch of the League of Left-Wing Writers. It would pave the way for his long term career as one of China’s most acclaimed directors, when he would often use the screen name Zhang Shuihua, possibly to be more “directorial”. But Shui’s work should not be too narrowly bookmarked as left-wing cinema. The term “left wing” has connotations with not only politics at the top of the tree, but also the media and entire branches of sociology below it. But to the average Chinese citizen in the 1930s, “left wing” remained but two words. Laikwan Pang points this out in “Building a New China in Cinema: The Chinese Left-Wing Cinema Movement, 1932-1937” (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers; 2002). Pang notes that while the genre may have had political intent, these movies brought in an audience that “spanned a large spectrum of population in Shanghai”, in particular “petty urbanites”, a term that refers to, at least from the leftists’ point of view, a community of urban
consumers who were “unenlightened, conservative and with a taste for things popular”. Hence, and with the study of Chinese cinema now more popular than ever before in western colleges and universities, a prolonged consideration of Shui’s canon of work would be a valuable scholarly pursuit. In 1950, Shui co-directed “White Haired Girl” (白毛女) which went on to win the special honour award at the 6th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival in today’s Czech Republic. Further critical acclaim came as the decade closed, with Shui as solo director on “The Lin Family Shop” (林家铺子), based on a short story by Mao Dun. But then came China’s turmoils of the 1960s and 70s, which made many believe that Shui had already directed his last ever film. But that was not to be the case at all. The 1980s saw Shui in the director’s chair once again for more films based on celebrated authors’ works; 1981’s “Regret for the Past” (伤逝), adapted from a story by Lu Xun; and 1984’s “Blue Flowers”, based on the Li Guowen short story, “Eclipse of the Moon” (月食). Recognition for his 4 decades of work in the industry came Shui’s way in 1995. Commemorating the 90th anniversary of the birth of Chinese cinema, Shui was awarded with a Director Award in the Chinese Century Movie Awards. Shui died of illness in Beijing at the age of 79 on 16 December, 1995. Leaving behind him at least one movie from each period in the history of Chinese cinema, the rigorous creative attitude of this Great Nanjinger persists even today for those interested in the Middle Kingdom’s silver screens. 26
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
NANKINISH With Wu Zeyuan
“No duck leaves Nanjing alive.” Statistics show that the city consumes over 100 million ducks each year. Everyone has heard of Nanjing ducks, but they are too often misunderstood. Visitors and tourists to Confucius Temple feel obliged to order salted duck from the restaurants nearby. They would find the duck unpleasantly salty and no more authentic than what they have already had in their home cities. Nevertheless, they would bring back some vacuumpacked duck as souvenir gifts because they find nothing else worth buying in the vicinity. That, of course, is not how the local people eat duck. Now, let me show you where to get the most authentic Nanjing duck, what kind of duck and cuts are recommended, and how to place your order. The local language gives us a hint. Instead of saying “We buy some duck,” Nanjingers say “We get some duck chopped”. The word “chop” (“zan” in Nanjing dialect, “zhan”; 斩 in Mandarin) implies action and freshness, and most importantly, the particular places where the ducks are chopped to order. Those places are delicatessens that mainly, or even only, sell ducks. When you approach a duck deli during its busier hours, you will hear the cleaver quickly chopping against the wooden block, and that is the spirit of “zan” (perhaps onomatopoeia as in the English word “chop”), the sound of deliciousness to any duck lover.
In Nanjing, you will find duck delis on almost every street and around every residential community. People need them all the time. Don’t know what to eat for supper? Get some duck chopped. No time to cook? Get some duck chopped. Friends coming for dinner? Get some duck chopped. Visiting someone? Get some duck chopped and bring it over. Unlike Peking Duck, which is typically a treat in finer restaurants, the duck sold in Nanjing delis is an everyday essential. Two major types of duck are sold apart from everything else; the renowned salted duck and the less renowned roast duck. Both are at around ¥23 per 500 grams these days, which is perhaps the lowest price you can get for any cooked meat. Much as people love salted duck, it may be argued that roast duck sells even better among the locals. “Try the roast duck.” That’s my advice to every out-oftown guest. You might think that roast duck is too commonly seen around the world, but roast duck made in authentic Nanjing style is indeed something unique about the city. The flavour exemplifies the local palate, and it is rarely found anywhere else. Evidence suggests that the famous Peking Duck is a ramification of Nanjing roast duck as the Ming dynasty moved its capital from Nanjing to Beijing in 1421 CE, but the two types of roast duck have long become considerably different. Duck in the Nanjing style is roasted with steam. The cavity of the bird is filled with
27
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
warm water while it cooks with the residual heat of a hot oven. This makes the meat tender and moist, while giving the skin a slight touch of crispiness. The water that cooks with the duck is then used to make the sauce, which is what really makes Nanjing roast duck unique. Each deli has their own sauce cooked with various herbs and seasonings. You will get a generous scoop of the warm sauce in a plastic bag. Pour it over the duck just before you eat, and feel the magic when the sauce meets duck fat.
Now that you have come to a duck deli and have decided to order both salted duck and roast duck, the only remaining question is how to get what you want. The importance of knowing how to order is often overlooked by people from out of town. They find themselves standing in front of the queue, wondering whether the duck is sold by piece or by weight. They might finally get a lower quarter (leg) with the help of an impatient local customer queuing behind them, but later feel cheated when they find half of a duck head hidden under the leg.
Those awkward moments can be easily avoided by following the steps below. Start with how much you want. If a whole bird sounds too much to you, there are two more options: a half (for 2-4 people), or a quarter (for 1-2 people). If you opt for a half, it will come with either a head cut into halves, or a neck chopped into 1-inch pieces. I usually choose head because I like the brain, but some other people prefer neck for its flavourful skin. You might not want any of them, which is fine, but they have to be weighed for the total price. Rest assured that wings and feet will not come with your order. They are sold separately at higher (yes, higher) prices.
If a quarter is all you need, the next step is to decide whether you would like the upper quarter or the lower quarter. Simply put, breast or leg. The default is that half a head or half a neck will be an add-on to the lower quarter, but not to the upper quarter. Some delis may have different rules, though.
You may then confidently place your order like a Nanjinger; “A lower quarter of roast duck, with neck, please”.
Of course, the above instructions are just the basics. Some canny frequenters would even ask for the “soft side” when they order a half or an upper quarter. The soft side refers to the side that does not include the spine, which allows one to pay for a lighter weight while enjoying no less meat. Considering the limited supply, their requests may be considered but not always guaranteed. Finally, which of Nanjing’s delis would I recommend? Well, that is a tough question, and every Nanjinger has a different answer. A few locales are listed below, but this is by no means a complete list of the best or any sort of ranking. In fact, you will hardly find a bad duck deli in the city. The less satisfying ones will not survive the intense competition of the Nanjing duck market. Just keep in mind that most of them tend to sell out their daily supplies by 18:00. Only the early birds get their favourite cuts and add ons.
Lujia Duck 陆家鸭子, 59 Shuiximen Da Jie 水西门大街59号 Daji Deli 达记卤菜店, 4 Guanyin’ge, Hongmiao 红庙观音阁4号 Zhuqiao Brothers 竺桥兄弟烤鸭店, 239 Zhujiang Lu 珠江路239号 Zhangyun Cured Duck 章云板鸭, 236 Shengzhou Lu 升州路236号 28
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
The Building of Nanjing
By Frank Hossack
~6~
Deji Plaza
C
According to Jing Daily, home to all things luxury in China, there are three kinds of high-end shoppers in Nanjing; High Net Worth Individuals (HNWI), the rising middle classes and students.
But why? Shanghai has a plethora of mega malls that rake in the bucks. Why Deji?
Deji brings in those HNWIs from Nanjing of course, but also from neighbouring cities such as Ma’anshan. They come to shop and learn about luxury brands, having little in their home towns.
onsummate shoppers among our alert readers will know all too well that China’s topperforming shopping mall is SKP (新光天地) in Beijing, with yearly sales of ¥13.5 billion. And the only other mall in China in that club with a revenue over ¥10 billion? Our very own Deji Plaza.
Part of it is down to the status of Nanjing in the Yangtze River Delta; more on that later. The big reason though, is the building itself. In other words, its feng shui. Like many buildings in China, Deji chose an auspicious date (ok, one purely associated with money) to kick things off. Phase 1 of the Plaza opened on 26 June, 2006, and the cash registers started going “ka-ching”. But long before that, the Deji Group had brought in leading international architecture and design practice, Aedas. By the time Phase 2 was complete and open on May, 2012, Deji boasted a floor area of 135,710 square metres and the Aedas vision had been realised. With their design for a unique, high end shopping environment that would be a combination of modernity and nature, that vision was to provide a space where the flagship stores of international luxury brands could congregate. And it worked. Bringing us back to those shoppers. Following a lessthan-stellar performance by Phase 1, For Phase 2, Deji reserved two-floor flagship stores for brands such as Chanel, Cartier and Tiffany. As a result, these branches of the retail icons are superior to their stores in nearby Suzhou and Wuxi.
Nanjing is also where we find many a regional or national company headquarters, while the city’s rising middle classes work in government, finance and technology. All are fond of a trip to Deji Plaza. And those students? In Nanjing, they are not so humble, with many attending élite high schools, knowledgeable about luxury brands and generously supported by their parents. Remember also that the student ratio in Nanjing is the highest in the country, at 10:1. And finally, back to the Feng Shui that lies in the heart of Deji Plaza. The Aedas website claims that they “create world-class design solutions with deep social and cultural understanding of the communities we design for”. It’s an assertion borne out in the DNA of Deji. Both Phase 1 and Phase 2 of Deji Plaza have their axis orientated on a slight diagonal away from the main complex’s north-south alignment along Zhongshan Lu. And in both cases, that axis points directly at Xinjiekou Square itself and in particular, the statue of Dr. Sun Yat-sen. With the Republican era in China the very épitomé of cool, such associations with the man who led that revolution here in Nanjing have turned out to be auspicious indeed for Deji Plaza.
29
Additional info, online version or Chinese contact via the QR code that follows each review.
GASTRONOMY By Matt Ford
From Bordeaux to Nanjing; Dream along in Laomendong
30
Minor niggles aside, this place is super! There is something for everyone, and there is no better place to drink beer in the afternoon in Nanjing. Bring me beer, bring me flammekeuche (and ideally my poke in a bowlwithout paper cones and dry ice) and this place really is the stuff of dreams for the discerning all-day imbiber. Talking of dreams, are those flammekeuche really calorie free? Well yes, they are... no, really! Don’t call me out on this one, just believe it. If we all believe it, it’s as good as true isn’t it? A second branch at Hexi Wanda has opened recently. Edward warned us last month about the potential sting of a sequel. The Hexi Wanda branch stings like a very, very angry hornet. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Table Space is located 16-2 Laomendong, Qinhuai District ���老门东边营16—2. Tel: 17116382960 / 17614252529.
GASTRONOMY By Frank Hossack
What’s Yellow, Tall and Cool? Soho in Nanjing’s Xinjiekou!
The Nanjinger chose the Soft Boiled Egg Wrapped with Bacon and Avocado (¥48), Stewed Mussels with French White Wine (¥68), Hungarian Beef Vegetable Soup (¥48), Cheese Burger (¥68) and Paella (¥169) and a Baguette Cheese Pizza (¥48). Allwere excellent,with the egg/bacon/avocado combo as standout, thanks to the addition of arugula. An obvious option for brunch! Our only quibbles were that the mussels were frozen (but what else are they to do, especially these days?) and the unfortunate surprise that was shrimp on the baguette for someone allergic to seafood.
S
oho is its official name, as decreed by The Nanjinger. But it’s not the local equivalent of today’s Soho in London, so full of tourists that it has lost the trendy allure it once had. No, Nanjing’s version is thankfully mostly the Soho from an era when hippies would set up record labels and airlines. We’re talking about that part of Nanjing a little south of Xinjiekou off Wangfu Da Jie, specifically Nantai Alley (南台巷), which zigzags its way over to Fengfu Lu. Along it, a plethora of restaurants, coffee shops and bars, many of which opened in the past year.
This is the kind of thing that would stop places such as Y&T popping up in London’s Soho of today. And it’s also holding back virtually all international dining in Nanjing from doing the same. A simple labelling of menus taking into account common allergies would propel any establishment significantly up the rankings. But back to the charm of Y&T. When we asked for a glass of wine, the manager, Peter, said they don’t normally do wine by the glass but he would open a bottle just for us. Commenting that the rest would probably go to waste, Peter gave us the bottle to take home, by way of a discount.
And epitomising the Soho of Nanjing is Y&T Steakhouse Bar, the initials being the surnames of the partners behind the venture Speaking of alcohol and saving money, where else in downtown Nanjing will you find a bottle of Heineken in such (Yellow; 黄, and Tall; 高). surroundings for just ¥26? Making it special is the down to earthiness of Y&T. With an Y&T Steakhouse Bar is located at 15-10 Nantai environment that achieves well the difficult balancing act between Alley in Xinjiekou, Qinhuai District 秦淮区新街口南台 being cool and pretense free, Y&T is foremost a fantastic hangout. And if patrons choose to dine, they won’t be disappointed. 巷15-10. Tel: 13814020057. 31
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
PYP1A students at EtonHouse Nanjing had the chance to wear one of their favourite hats or one that reflects their personality during the lockdown. Conducting online lessons with all the students wearing their chosen hats allowed them to laugh, play and connect with their friends. During these uncertain times, as much as it is crucial to focus on the physical health of our children, their social-emotional wellbeing is just as important.
EtonHouse Na n j i n g 29 March - 23 April, 2022
To see photos from your event on these pages, contact The Nanjinger via info@thenanjinger.com. Conditions apply.
32
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
Students at The British School of Nanjing had the opportunity to participate in the100m, 200m, 400m, 800m, 1500m, javelin, long jump, triple jump, shotput, 4x100m relays and a tug-of-war in the annual Secondary Sports Day. The day delivered outstanding individual and team efforts, as well as some wonderful examples of sportsmanship and team spirit. School house, the Saxons, was crowned 2022 Secondary Sports Day Champions.
33
THE NANJINGER | VOLUME 12 ISSUE 07 | MAY 2022
Nanjing International School’s vibrant Primary production, Rocktopus, delighted their community, as Grades 2-5 performed in front of a full house of teachers and students. The musical was the culmination of months of student-led work, including sets, costumes, props, and advertising.
21 April, 2022
34
THE NANJINGER | 2022.05
THE
Download this map to your smartphone via The Nanjinger website
The Nanjinger’s Metro Map is the only printed map of the city’s metro system to include first and last times for every station, perfect for planning a late night out or an adventure to somewhere new with an early start. In the case of last trains, passengers are advised to enter the station of departure at least 10 minutes before the train time.
