Friday, July 4, 2008

Desert Diaspora

I remembered my childhood in vivid flashes, sudden bursts of long-term memory goaded by the impetus of emotion. I saw an Arab woman crying on the street today. She was inconsolable. In her wave of sorrow, Khaled came back to me. I can’t remember exactly the first time I met him but I remembered the first time I was blasted by one of his strikes of a football (soccer to the outnumbered Americans). Khaled was a star. He was hyperbole in motion, the most talented footballer in the realm. It was a spine-tingling affair to be the unlucky soul who stood between him and the goal. He could strike a ball with such thudding velocity that the goal keeper would much rather dive away from one of his missiles then risk the guaranteed pain of impact. I remembered a time in the desert.

The American-British Academy stood on the top of a hill overlooking the gated opulence of Muscat’s elite. To get there one had to traverse up a thirty degree inclined road then maneuver through the manicured mansions of Oman’s oil barons. I was a Bedouin then, unfazed with triple digit weather. The school was still undergoing construction and the rows of scattered trailers around the compound proved an eyesore to this synthetic oasis. Nonetheless, it opened with much fanfare, much to the delight of the couple of thousands of expatriate children who were stuck with homeschooling. His Majesty himself, Sultan Qaboos, cut the red ribbon that wrapped around the whole perimeter of the compound on opening day. Educated in England’s Royal Military Academy, Oman’s despot was a religious liberal, eager to modernize, and had a special affinity for Western Culture. In an English accent, he greeted the pioneering students with fatherly pride, “Welcome my children, as I was once welcomed to be molded in your country, I welcome you to mine. Welcome to your American-British Academy…”

During one of the countless lunch-hour football games, I found myself in between Khaled and a surefire goal. We played on the basketball courts which from all accounts were never once used for basketball. Often the case, when the rampaging Khaled was surging towards goal, the last standing defender would just defer the inevitable. On this day I refused to defer to this behemoth. My heart pumping rapidly, he came upon me. He must’ve been surprised that I stood there in waiting, resigned to my fate. He ripped a shot from his cannon leg anticipating that I would jump out of the way—I did not. BOOM! I felt the ball ricochet off my stomach and also felt the jarring impact of the hard concrete as I fell. I was in football hell and I gasped for air in short staccato breaths. At least I saved a goal.

“What were you thinking?” Gareth, a rotund American who was playing goalkeeper, was the first to come over me. I wanted to say fuck you Gareth but I was having problems breathing, much less talking.

“Gareth move. Let me have a look…” It was my homeroom crush, the tomboyish Mancunian, Anne Turner. She knelt down and probed me, as if a fifth grader would know anything about mending anything broken. Anne was a football fanatic and could talk for hours about Manchester United, her favorite team. She had always wanted to join in on a game but no one would ever pick a girl. Still she cheered me on whenever I got to play, because it was just as rare for a Filipino to be picked (what with my native country’s long football playing tradition and all). But I was certain she was no medic.

“Anne. I can’t breathe.” I managed to say in one of my heaving gasps.

“You’re very brave Vince. Have I told you about my favorite player Brian McClair? He was very brave. One time a defender kicked him in his balls but he still managed to score a goal. Oh I love him…”

“…Anne”

“And another time he was kicked in the face and his eyelid was hanging from his eye and he played the whole game. Those are the kind of footballers I love. Brave…”

“Anne! Help me off the court.” I pleaded weakly, surprised that I could actually complete a sentence.

“Is he alright?” It was the football god himself, Khaled.

“Well he’s not bleeding. Maybe you need to save those big shots for a real game, huh hotshot?!”

Khaled looked embarrassed at being accosted by the feisty blonde with the thick English accent.

“I’m sorry. But I think that’s good that Vince here actually plays defense. I want him to try out for the team.”

“You think I’m good enough?” I implored perking up instantaneously.

“You’re alright Vince, you’re very fast. And you play defense! We need defenders; no one ever wants to play defense.”

“Can I play too?” Anne interjected to which Khaled smiled sarcastically.

“I’d love for you to be on the team but don’t they have a girl’s team?”

“That’s not a team…just a bunch of girls kicking the football like chickens with no heads.”

“Yallah…tell you what Anne, how about I pick you and Pele here for tomorrow’s lunch hour match.” Anne grew more animated and relayed to Khaled more useless trivia about Manchester United and her favorite footballer Brian McClair. He was impressed. Little did he know, in another life, Anne was Brian McClair.

“Uh guys…can you help me off the court please?” I groaned still in pain. They both laughed, the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh as well. Khaled helped me up while Anne hovered about offering more words of encouragement.

True to his word, Khaled prodded my homeroom teacher Mr. Moser, the football coach, to make me a member of our school’s powerful football team. Mr. Moser was a gruff ex-British marine who had a habit of paralleling his classroom lessons with football, more specifically Liverpool football. The fact that he taught geography ingrained in me the immeasurable knowledge of the topography of the various football venues Liverpool had played on. He also ran the team as if he was still in the marines. “Well lad, you’re on the team. But don’t expect to play until you’ve paid your dues. And never- ever-ever be late! Five o’clock sharp at the pitch every day!”

Ours was a team the United Nations would be proud of. The only aspect predominantly American or British about the American-British Academy was the curriculum. The school was a hodge-podge of nationals from as far off as exotic Fiji to as close as neighboring Saudi Arabia and the team was a reflection. We ran the gauntlet that football season, tearing through the opposition with ruthless precision. I scored my first goal against our rival, L’Ecole Francais, relieving Khaled after the second half when we had built up a ridiculous six to zero lead. The game ended being a respectable seven to four margin. The season ended with smashing success as we overcame the Omani junior national team on penalty kicks.

In the summer of ‘89, Anne Turner had a farewell party at her home in the Ruwi section of Muscat. Ruwi was Muscat’s old city and the ancient clay buildings strewn about conjured up images when Sinbad the Sailor roamed its streets. Her parents were headed back to Manchester after five-year tenures at the local oil plant. It was to be a farewell for all.

“I’m leaving too.” Khaled said, “I’m going back to Iraq.” Khaled’s father had gotten a high-ranking position with the government. His parents were coming home after ten years abroad.

I had my own disclosure. Due to an incident with a shopkeeper and two pocketfuls of candy I had conveniently forgot paying for, I was being shipped off to American relatives to some place called Virginia. My paranoid parents were concerned about a relatively archaic Muslim law…something to the effect of fingers being chopped off. I looked at Anne and Khaled unsure if I would ever see them again. The three of us were from drastically different worlds, yet somehow in Muscat we were so the same.

”This is sad, I’m leaving too.”

We sat in deafening silence amidst the international collection of professional expats congregated in Anne’s living room. We sat sipping on our ice-cold Kool-Aid not knowing exactly what to say. It became more uncomfortable when Anne started to tear up.

“Promise me we’re all going to keep in touch.” She said sniffing.

“Inshallah…I know we’ll cross paths again. You guys can always visit me in Baghdad. It’s a beautiful city.” Khaled’s calming voice resonated among us, “Let’s not be sad. How about we kick the football around out back?”

On a Brooklyn street, the air filled with a mother’s grief. I entered my local corner store haunted with what I had seen. I asked Hassan, the Yemeni store owner, why the Arab woman outside was crying uncontrollably. The normally affable Hassan looked solemn, as if holding back belligerence.

“They’re animals, these Americans…they’re animals.”

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“Her son, her son…” He said stuttering, “He was shot by an American soldier.”

“Who? Where? Why?”

“He’s a lawyer in Baghdad. He refused to halt when an American soldier told him to halt, and the bastard shot him in the back…He was a good man, his name was Khaled. May he rest in peace. Alhumdudillah…”

I felt numb. We all cut and bleed, it’s a universal occurrence. I walked by the woman outside and I wanted to cry with

her, in my mind I was already crying for her. Being American should not preclude one from having a conscience. A

feeling of shame came over me. I remembered Khaled from the desert. Inshallah Khaled…we shall cross paths again.

I gritted my teeth in disgust. Inshallah Khaled…I hope you are safe...inshallah. Yes we do, we all cut and bleed but it

should be for the right reasons. Why does it have to happen like this?

Saturday, June 21, 2008

THE JASIKA THAT READ LIKE A MEAL

It was the peak of winter. There was no mistaking it. The air had become like my overbearing doctor-brother who had overstayed his welcome. On Myrtle Avenue ice clung to the sidewalks, not how a newborn would to a mother, but rather how a virus insufferably clamped to its unrelenting host. My roommate had gone off to Puerto Rico for work. One day I will be a jet-setting photographer with month-long assignments to far-flung exotic places. Instead I huddled indoors, shying away from and spewing even more expletives at that meteorological term wind-chill. The brownstone stood empty and cold, colder with its shiny hardwood floors. “What the fuck, I wish I had my work’s shitty carpeting right about now.” My voice trailed off as I realized that I was talking to myself. Oh but how I wished I had a pack of cigarettes, maybe even just one…maybe even just a drag. I should go to the corner store to buy a pack and some food to appease my growling stomach. I threw on my boots and coat and headed out to be greeted by the impending frozen tundra. As if faced with the specter of a schoolyard bully, I had a change of heart (nicotine craving be damned). I retreated back to my couch. My cable had been shut off after two months of non-payment and I stared at the blank screen and imagined the Travel channel…dementia, this must be how it starts.

The hours dragged uncomfortably. There was solace in Ramen noodles. I ate and experimented with the many eclectic ways I could serve it up. Like which addition would be the more ideal-tasting meat—ham or salami? I inspected if it’s better to crack an egg unfettered or if by scrambling it; it would make it more aesthetically pleasing. I toyed with the proper mixture of soy sauce and sesame oil that would intangibly give it that distinct noodle-shop quality. I decided more sesame and less on the soy sauce.

Divine intervention came in the form of an unsecured wireless signal that radiated from my Irish neighbor’s house, Pere. For what else was out there that could so relieve this listless ADHD funk other than the endless black hole that was the internet? I should go next door and give him a hug. He was my guardian angel, a soul-saving superhero that deserved my gratitude. Outside it was pitch black and the wind bellowed with indomitable ferocity. I looked out the window towards the rows of brownstones and muttered. “Thou shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife…but aha, God never mentioned anything about coveting thy neighbor’s wireless signal.”

In front of my laptop, I tasted another one of my Ramen concoctions. This time I added specks of curry and basil. Eureka! It was sublime. I saw a vision, a bestselling Ramen recipe book. Pretentious top-flight chefs were secretly referencing to spice up their four-star menus. I was the Ramen king! I was going to revolutionize the Ramen industry! I stared at my bowl of lukewarm noodles and sobered at the sight—it really was only Ramen. Could it be that delusions of grandeur were in relation to hunger and boredom? I scribbled it down: DG=H+B, a future thesis project maybe, or perhaps the impetus to a future Nobel Prize winning text on the human condition.

I refocused to my laptop (which for non-work related purposes was just a euphemism for surfing the internet). I opened five tabs on Firefox and jumped from one to the next. They were as followed: Facebook, Myspace, Espn, SportsIllustrated, and Craigslist.org. I grew less antsy as I passed onto a monotonous internet surfing haze, it didn’t matter that two of each of those websites were essentially the same.

The Myspace tab rotated back to attention when the most welcomed of images appeared—new messages. I filled up with elation; I wanted to do cartwheels on the living room floor. I mean God forbid, I haven’t even had a Myspace message in almost an hour. I clicked with giddy excitement. It was from an artist page where I left a glib compliment. I had exhorted her oh-so wonderful drawings, writing, and art to the point of what I had thought was callousness. Not that I didn’t pay any attention to her work (in which featured prominently selected blogs about dry-humping and an ode to peanut butter), rather I was more in tuned to the pleasant visuals of her. She looked like a wholesome Denise Huxtable or how I imagined Denise without the addiction problems. She, however, bought into my overblown commentary.

She wrote:

“…I have written and rewritten this message to you about 5 times, but it won’t come out right. I keep starting over. I’m trying to make a reply to impress *you* too...a reply with some scathing wit, some dry humor, some sentences coupled with both grammatical panache and hip, coined phrases...but it’s not working out. I’m not sure why. It’s probably because you are the cute.
I’m not that familiar with cute guys randomly writing to me, and if they are cute, then they are dumb, or creepy. I pretty much resigned myself to the fact that any guy who wrote me and complimented me on my writing or my artwork, however genuine and sweet he was, was going to have gold teeth, or eyeball piercings, or large breasts, or Rockport shoes on, or blurry camera phone images of his schlong, or blogs about his dry humping episodes....(Oh wait, that was me).
What I’m trying to say is, I’m glad you like chucks, I’m glad you like my writing, and I’m glad you don’t seem creepy.
So tell me, what do you do?
What is your favorite color?
Do you eat cheese?
Do you remember the Snorks?

*j*”

The *j* stood for Jasika (pronounced “Jah-cee-kuh” as she so elaborately stressed in a subsequent message). She worked as a way-off Broadway actress, as far off as Philadelphia. She moonlighted as a waitress at that Times Square tourist magnet, Spanky’s Barbeque. Inasmuch as she rewrote it, I reread the message several times. I marveled at how they seemed to capture the very essence of the bubbly visage splattered across the page. Moreover, I marveled at that particular line where she so unabashedly wrote: “…I think you are the cute.” Who writes like that? She was well-versed in these hip coined phrases, one of which was “you’re dope on a stick”…because as she explained, everything was better on a stick. I unequivocally incorporated it to my repertoire of urban slang. I grew another vision, of me in a Cosby Show episode making out with Denise Huxtable. But oh shit! I happened to own a pair of Rockport topsiders and I had no inkling of what the Snorks were. And there was absolutely no way I was giving up my topsiders.

I meticulously crafted a reply filled with the compulsory “hip coined phrases” if not the deemed preemptive grammatical panache, scathing wit, and dry humor. I answered the preliminary questions; that I worked in a specialty pharmacy in Chelsea aka “the gayborhood” (with me being the token straight guy), that green is my favorite color, and that I couldn’t imagine a world without cheese. I confided that sometimes I secretly went out with my coworkers to gay bars just so I can cop free drinks, for apparently the skinny, emaciated, malnourished look was the gay-world equivalent of a curvy blonde. With the help of Google, I feigned surprise at the coincidence of our shared affinity for the Snorks; I assured her it was one of my favorite childhood cartoons right up there with GI Joes and Transformers. I had a vague recollection of the Snorks. I remembered thinking that this underwater cartoon, with straws coming out of their balloon-head characters, was inconceivable. How could snorkels work if they’re deep underwater? Now gigantic transforming robots from outer space, that’s more believable. For good measure I downloaded and watched an episode and even memorized the opening lines of the irritating jingle, “…Come- along with-the-Snorks, and swim-along with-the-Snorks…”

She wrote back:

“…Vince Paolo, have you ever thought that maybe you are secretly gay? Why else have you worked in Chelsea for a couple of years yet you hide it from your friends. Yet you frequent gay bars. Is it really for the free drinks? You love the Snorks yet you temper it with macho cartoons like GI Joes? Please don’t take offense if I am correct. I highly commend the skills involved in being secretly gay in an openly gay neighborhood…I feel almost envious, honored actually. I mean me being a professionally trained actress and all. It’s okay Vince Paolo; if it makes you feel better I’ll tell you why I write blogs about my dry-humping episodes. Would you believe that I am a virgin? Yes it’s true. I’m a 24 year old virgin who writes blogs about my dry-humping episodes. I think I’m scared of the penis. They’re kind of hideous, what girl in her right mind would want that inside of her? I think I just might be lesbian, don’t be scared, I still think you are the cute.

Ps—I will let you use ‘dope on a stick’ but I will require royalties which could come in the form of peanut butter and wine.”

That was a revelation; the inspiration behind her thought-provoking soliloquies on dry-humping. And admittedly her obsessive compulsion towards peanut butter was beyond reproach. But it was her insightful reference to my sexual preference that needed immediate clarification. Did she respond to me because I looked like a really butch lesbian? Maybe I unknowingly transmitted some sort of gay-vibe electrical synapse through my keyboard. I re-evaluated what she could’ve meant when she wrote “…you are the cute.” Hmm, maybe she’s onto something, maybe I am gay…me, gay? She kind of looked like a boy, albeit a lovely feminine looking one. Nah… I responded with resolution:

“My dear Jasika…I have to say you have a good eye for details, a keen eye for the human psyche. Now I’m open to the possibility of being gay, much the same way that I’m open to the possibility of a rock hurtling through the universe for billions of years can randomly fall from the sky and take me out. But if it’s true that I am secretly gay, it’s a tragedy that my male sexual organ (that of which you find so hideous)…doesn’t know about it.

Ps--You’re freaking weird but I mean that with the utmost admiration.”

Thus fashioned a streaming correspondence with this internet oddity, she lamented that she was cliché; just one of your quintessential New York starving artist. I pictured her huddled in thermals and sweats while connected online from some burrowed wireless signal. I envisioned her cursing the cold and devouring a jar of peanut butter while simultaneously making recipes for it. “Don’t you fret Juuuuh-ceeee-kuuuh.” I responded, “I am too in a way a starving artist, sans the artist part.” Like clockwork, she would reply with something clever. We divulged into a competitive tit for tat with trivial if not useless jargon exchanged.

On a favorite Muppet character in which I claimed Gonzo:

“I would be Oscar, yes OSCAR. I’m an asshole, I told you that before I’m sure but Oscar is a funny asshole and I told you I’m not dirty like him...that’s where our similarities stop, the humorous asshole part. I can work with Gonzo. I like Gonzo because he reminds me of a Snork.”

On me calling out the ridiculous straws protruding out of the Snorks’ heads:

“They’re called vestigial organs, much the same way the human penis will be within a hundred years...”

On my idea of vitaminated cigarettes:

“Is vitaminated even a word…but why vitamins? I say put caffeine in it, coffee and cigarettes go together. It saves you the trip to Starbucks. It would be like a two for one happy hour…”

On cheese and Scrabble:

“…I’m glad you are good at Scrabble, and I’m glad you like cheese, ‘cause I’m not good at Scrabble nor do I eat cheese, and this provides a more adequate view of my regretfully autonomous personality. I wish I liked cheese. It would be more American. I wish I was good at games, but I refuse to learn. To me learning something new, like a board game that no one bothered to teach me when I was little, is me at my most vulnerable. Does that make sense?
That sucks though, ‘cause I know some good words like ‘indigenous’ and ‘assface’. By the way, I don’t totally dislike cheese. I like Doritos…”

On my name:

“…okay, I’m glad you told me to say Paolo like ‘Pow-lo’. If I said it in person it would have come out more like ‘Poooooowlooooow....?’(as I tried to read your face and gauge how brutally I was pronouncing the name). Vince Paolo, is Vince short for anything, like ‘Vincentianamo’ because that would be dope on a stick…”

I lost all pretension. ..“Jasika, if I am dope on a stick, then you are a codeine-laced Veniero’s cheesecake on a stick.” It dawned on me that the scathing wit and dry humor permeated more on her side. I strained to keep up to her deluge of quick one-liners and to her colorful references of life as a struggling actress from Alabama. I could have countered with the many splendid ways I could whip up a Ramen, but it paled in comparison to her religious adherence to peanut butter. I could’ve told her that I probably hold the impressive record of most gay bars frequented by a straight guy. But she wasn’t even entirely convinced I was straight. When she recounted an implied on-set affair with Bronson Pinchot (of Perfect Strangers fame), I ceased to care if whether I appeared interesting, it only mattered that she was.

Snowflakes danced about outside my frosted window and a hint of approaching sunrise was evident from the glow of freshly accumulated snow. My bowl of curry/basil Ramen had solidified into a cold yellowish sludge. I poked it with my fork and it had the consistency of Jell-O. It was seven a.m. Sunday morning and my stomach growled alerting me that ten hours had elapsed since my last calorie intake. It growled a second time as if pleading, “Hey buddy, time for breakfast.” I clicked back to the MySpace tab and once again the most welcomed of images appeared—new messages. Sorry buddy, overruled. On the subject heading it said: “Your Prize”, on the body of the email in enlarged bold fonts were displayed “917-598-9832 Congratulations!!”It was the shortest message from Jasika…the Jasika that read like a meal.

THE END

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Hanyu Notes

Referring to Persons in Mandarin Chinese

The chinese personal pronouns are very straightforward and have the same form regardless of being subject, object, indirect object, etc...

First person singular: 我 (wǒ) - I, me
Second person singular: 你 (nĭ) - you
Third person singular, masculine: 他 (tā) - he, him
Third person singular, feminine: 她 (tā) - she, her

The plural forms are derived from the singular forms by adding the plural marker 们 (men).

First person plural: 我们 (wǒmen) - we, us
Second person plural: 你们 (nĭmen) - you(-all)
Third person plural, masculine or mixed: 他们 (tāmen) - they, them
Third person plural, feminine: 她们 (tāmen) - they, them

Expressing Personal Possession in Mandarin Chinese

Using the Chinese personal pronouns possessively is also very easy compared to most other languages, just append the determiner particle 的 (de) to the pronoun, as the following example will illustrate. The thing that is being determined will appear after this particle, and the thing that determines it (the possessive adjective/pronoun in western grammar) will appear in front of it:

我的大学 (wǒ de dàxué) - my university
你的大学 (nǐ de dàxué) - your university
他的大学 (tā de dàxué) - his university
我们的大学 (wǒmen de dàxué) - our university
你们的大学 (nǐmen de dàxué) - your university
他们的大学 (tāmen de dàxué) - their university

Independent constructions (possessive pronouns)

Such a construction can be transformed into a more independent construction, similar to the possessive pronouns like "mine", "yours", "ours" in english:

这所大学是我的 (zhè suǒ dàxué shì wǒ de) - This university is mine
这所大学是他们的 (zhè suǒ dàxué shì tāmen de) - This university is theirs

Referring to things in Mandarin Chinese

Expressing "this" and "that" can be done as in the following example, but note that there appears an extra word that one might not have expected, this is a so-called Measure Word and is a very important feature in Chinese Grammar:

这所大学 (zhè suǒ dàxué) - Literal: This [MW] university - This university
那所大学 (nà suǒ dàxué) - Literal: That [MW] university - That university

In this case the measure word is 所 (suǒ), but there are numerous Measure Words, each can be used with a specific category of words. Those will need to be learnt by heart. However, there is a measure word that Chinese people use when they conveniently forget the right one: 个 (gè).

The use of such measure words is obligatory in many cases (such as this one).

Basic Sentences: Articles and Plural in Mandarin Chinese

Chinese nouns do not have articles, such as "the" and "a" in English, nor do they have a plural form.

So the word 大学 (dàxué) can any of the following mean:

a university
the university
the universities
universities

The context usually makes clear which is meant. There are however ways to stress what is meant:

一所大学 (yī suǒ dàxué) - Literal: one [MW] university - One university
这些/那些
大学 (zhèxiē/nàxiē dàxué) - these/those universities

Basic Sentences: Expressing TO BE in Mandarin Chinese

是 (shì) is the chinese equivalent of the English verb "to be".

Sentences like those expressing religion, nationality, etc... use this verb:

我是中国人 (wǒ shì Zhōngguó rén) - Literal: I am china person - I am chinese

However, when specifying profession the verb 当 (dàng) or 做 (zuò) is used:

我当老师 (wǒ dàng lǎoshī) - I am a teacher
我做老师 (wǒ zuò lǎoshī) - I am a teacher

Edit HoYin: Outside China the expression 我是老师 is perfectly acceptable. Note that the expressions 我当老师 and 我做老师 are considered formal, though they do appear in informal contexts.

Negation

The negation of this is made with 不 (bù):

我不是中国人 (wǒ bú shì Zhōngguó rén) - Literal: I not am china person - I am not chinese

A longer sentence

Let us look at a bigger sentence using 是 (shì):

我是你的中文老师 (wǒ shì nǐ de Zhōngguó lǎoshī) - Literal: I am your [DP] china teacher - I am your chinese teacher

Basic Sentences: Sentences describing properties in Mandarin Chinese

We will now take a look at a sentence describing a property, equivalent to english sentences such as "the university is old". In this case the chinese use no verb for "to be", but instead they use their word for "very", where this word has a very weak meaning. Furthermore, we must also remember that the chinese do not use articles such as "the" and "a":

大学很旧 (dàxué hěn jiù) - Literal: university [very] old - The university is old

There is another way of forming this sentence. We can use the verb "to be" in combination with the determiner particle (DP):

大学是旧的 (dàxué shì jiù de) - Literal: university is old [DP] - The university is old

This way of expressing a property is usually used when you want to emphasize something, it is pretty much always used with colors.

Negation

Negation is usually made with the word 不 (bù), this always applies to this type of sentence, in which case 很 (hěn) is not not needed anymore:

大学不旧 (dàxué bú jiù) - Literal: university not old - The university is not old

And another way of expressing this using the verb "to be":

大学不是旧的 (dàxué bú shì jiù de) - Literal: university not is old [DP] - The university is not old

Adjectives in Mandarin Chinese

Adjectives in Chinese are placed in a construction with the Determiner Particle 的 (de). The determinator (the adjective) appears in front of the particle and that what is to be determined appears behind it:

旧的大学 (jiù de dàxué) - Literal: old [DP] university - (the/an) old university

Questions: yes/no Questions in Mandarin Chinese

A simple yes/no question, similar to the english question "Are you chinese?" is, in chinese, formed the same as the non-questioning sentence "you are chinese", the only difference is the presence of the question particle 吗 (ma) and the question mark.

你是中国人。 (nǐ shì zhōngguó rén) - Literal: you are china person - You are Chinese
你是中国人吗? (nǐ shì zhōngguó rén ma?) - Literal: you are china person [QP]? - Are you Chinese?

The chinese does not really have words for "yes" and "no", unlike many other languages. The answer to a question is generally formed by repeating the verb. The answer to the question above can be formed as following:

是。 (shì) - Literal: am - yes
不是。 (bú shì) - Literal: not am - no

Another very common way of forming a yes/no question is by providing the answer choices in the question, in this case the question particle should not be used anymore, because this construction implies a question already.

你是不是中国人? (nǐ shì bú shì zhōngguó rén?) - Literal: You are not are china person? - Are you Chinese?
你是中国人不是? (nǐ shì zhōngguó rén bú shì?) - Literal: You are china person not are? - Are you Chinese

When you use this construction with an auxiliary verb you repeat that auxiliary verb, and not the main verb:

你会不会说汉语? (nǐ huì bú huì shuō hàn yǔ?) - Literal: you can not can speak mandarin chinese? - Can you speak mandarin chinese?

Questions: Question Words in Mandarin Chinese

The following question words (interrogative pronouns) are available in Chinese:

谁 (shéi/shuí) - who?
什么 (shénme) - what?
为什么 (wèi shénme) - why?
什么时候 (shénme) shíhou - when?
哪 (nǎ) - which? (singular)
哪些 (nǎxiē) - which? (plural)
哪儿/哪里 (nǎr/nǎli) - where?
干吗 (gànma) - why?
怎么/怎么样 (zěnme/zěnmeyang) - how?
多少 (duōshao) - how many?
几 (jī) - how many? (under ten, requires measure particle)

These interrogative pronouns are inserted at the place where normally the answer would appear, so Chinese does not put the interrogative pronouns at the start of the sentence as English does.

Also note that the presence of interrogative pronouns like these, makes the question particle not necessary anymore.

Asking about persons

你的朋友是谁 (nǐ de péngyǒu shì shéi?) - Literal: you [DP] friend is who? - who is your friend?

Asking about objects

这是什么? (zhè shì shénme?) - Literal: this is what? - What is this?
你看见什么? (nǐ kànjiàn shénme?) - Literal: you see what? - What do you see?
你看见什么书? (nǐ kànjiàn shénme shū?) - Literal: you see what book? - What book do you see?
你看见哪书? (nǐ kànjiàn nǎ shū?) - Literal: you see which book? - Which book do you see?
你是哪国人? (nǐ shì nǎ guó rén?) - Literal: you are which country person? - From what country are you?

Asking why

你为什么看我? (nǐ wèi shénme kàn wǒ?) - Literal: you why watch me? - Why do you look at me?
你干吗看我? (nǐ gànma kàn wǒ?) - Literal: you what-for watch me? - Why do you look at me?

The latter is more direct and more like "what for".

Asking whereabouts

你在哪里? (nǐ shì nǎli?) - Literal: you are where? - Where are you?
你在哪儿? (nǐ shì nǎr?) - Literal: you are where? - Where are you?
你去哪里? (nǐ qù nǎli?) - Literal: you go where? - Where do you go to?
你去哪儿? (nǐ qù nǎr?) - Literal: you go where? - Where do you go to?

Asking time

你什么时候去? (nǐ shénme shíhou qù?) - Literal: you what time go? - When do you go?

Asking quantity

Usually without Measure Word:

去多少人? (qù duōshao rén) - Literal: go how-many person - How many people go?

Always with Measure Word and only valid between a quantity of one and ten:

去几个人? (qù jī ge rén) - Literal: go howmany [MW] person - How many people go?

The above construction can be transformed to be valid within other ranges:

去几个人? (qù jī ge rén) - Literal: go howmany [MW] person - How many people go? (1-10)
去几十个人? (qù jī shí ge rén) - Literal: go howmany ten [MW] person - How many people go? (a factor 10 between 10 and 100)
去几百个人? (qù jī bǎi ge rén) - Literal: go howmany hundred [MW] person - How many people go? (a factor hundred between 100 and 1000)

Asking way/means

你怎么(样)去北京? (nǐ zěnme(yang) qù běijīng?) - Literal: you go Beijing how - How do you go to Beijing?

怎么 and 怎么样 mean the same in this context. It's also possible to use 怎么(样) as a predicate, in which case their meaning differs. But we will not get into that yet.

Returning questions & suggestive and doubtful questioning

There is another particle relevant to questions. This is the particle 呢 (ne). This particle is usually used in context to return a question.

我是中国人, 你呢? (wǒ shì zhōnggúo rén, nǐ ne?) - Literal: I am china person, you [QP]? - I am chinese, what about you?

呢 (ne) can be an interrogative particle that is not as direct as 吗 (ma), and it has a somewhat suggestive air to it, or a hint of doubt.

Choices in questions

We already saw constructs in the form 你是不是中国人?, here a choice is implied 是 versus 不是.

We can also introduce a more restrictive and explicit choice with 还是 (háishì), a chinese equivalent of the word "or".

你去中国还是去日本? (nǐ qù zhōnggúo háishì qù rìběn?) - Literal: you go China or go Japan? - Do you go to China or to Japan?

Note that 还是 binds verbs together, not nouns, so the verb 去 has to be repeated here. The only exception is the following:

你是中国人还是日本人? (nǐ shì zhōnggúorén háishì rìběnrén?) - Literal: you are chinese or japanese? - Are you Chinese or Japanese?

You see that you don't need to repeat the verb 是 because it's already part of 还是.

Using question words in a non-interrogative way in Mandarin Chinese

Interrogative pronouns outside questions

It is possible to use interrogative pronouns in a non-interrogative way, below you can see what meaning the words have if used in an interrogative way, and in a non-interrogative way:

谁 (shéi/shuí) - who? - somebody
什么 (shénme) - what? - something
为什么 (wèi shénme) - why? - for some reason
什么时候 (shénme shíhou) - when? - sometime
哪 (nǎ) - which? (singular) - something
哪些 (nǎxiē) - which? (plural) - something
哪儿/哪里 (nǎr/nǎli) - where? - there
干吗 (gànma) - why? - for some reason
怎么/怎么样 (zěnme/zěnmeyang) - how? - in some way
多少 (duōshao) - how many? - so many
几 (jī) - how many (under ten, requires measure particle)? - so many

Some examples:

我找谁? (wǒ zhǎo shéi?) - Who do I search?
我找谁 (wǒ zhǎo shéi) - I search somebody
我看见什么? (wǒ kànjiàn shénme?) - What do I see?
我看见什么 (wǒ kànjiàn shénme) - I see something

Transforming interrogative constructs to an every-construct

There are two particles that change the meaning of an interrogative pronoun, instead of having an interrogative meaning, the interrogative pronoun will function more like an adverb. These two particles are 都 (dōu) and 也 (yě). The latter can be used only in negated sentences and the former can be used in both.

Take a look at the following example, in negations 都 (dōu), can be replaced by 也 (yě).

谁都 (shéi dōu) - everybody
什么都 (shénme dōu) - everything
什么时候都 (shénme shíhou dōu) - always
哪里都 (nǎli dōu) - everywhere
怎么都 (zěnme dōu)- in every way

Note that in negations, the opposite is expressed: nobody instead of everybody etc...

谁都去北京 (shéi dōu qù běijīng) - Everybody goes to Beijing
谁都不去北京 (shéi dōu bú qù běijīng) - Nobody goes to Beijing
谁也不去北京 (shéi yě bú qù běijīng) - Nobody goes to Beijing
我看见什么都 (wǒ kànjiàn shénme dōu) - I see everything
我不看见什么都 (wǒ bú kànjiàn shénme dōu) - I don't see anything / I see nothing
我不看见什么也 (wǒ bú kànjiàn shénme yě) - I don't see anything / I see nothing
我什么时候都看见你 (wǒ shénme shíhou kànjiàn nǐ) - I always see you
我什么时候都不看见你 (wǒ shénme shíhou dōu bú kànjiàn nǐ) - I never see you
我什么时候也不看见你 (wǒ shénme shíhou yě bú kànjiàn nǐ) - I never see you

Interrogative pronouns in pairs

The chinese word for "so", 就 (jiù), can be used with interrogative pronouns in pairs, these pronouns will not be used interrogatively and are bound to eachother. An example will illustrate how to form such a construct and what its function is:

你看见什么, 就看见什么 (n kànjiàn shénme, jiù kànjiàn shénme) - Literal: you see [what], so you see [what] - You see whatever you (want to) see
你去哪里, 就去哪里 (nǐ qù nǎli, jiù qù nǎli) - Literal: you go [where], so you go [where] - You go whereever you (want to) go
你看见什么, 我也看见什么 (nǐ kànjiàn shénme, wǒ yě kànjiàn shénme) - Literal: you see [what], I also see [what] - You see what(ever) I see as well
你看见什么, 我看见什么 (nǐ kànjiàn shénme, wǒ kànjiàn shénme) - Literal: you see [what], I see [what] - You see what(ever) I see
你去哪里, 我也去哪里 (nǐ qù nǎli, wǒ yě qù nǎli) - Literal: you go [where], I also go [where] - You go where(ever) I go

The first two example make use of 就 (jiù), the last three don't, but note that the interrogative pronouns are also bound here. It is recommended to use the sentences with the 也(yě).

Auxiliary verbs and their negation in Mandarin Chinese

To have: Possession

Although this verb is an auxiliary verb in english, where it is used to form the perfect tenses for example, this is not the case in Chinese.

The verb 有(yǒu) is the chinese equivalent of "to have" and is used to express possession:

我有词典 (wǒ yǒu cídiǎn) - Literal: I have dictionary - I have (the/a) dictionary

HoYin Edits: Usually in such contexts the speaker is referring to the fact that he or she possesses dictionaries, meaning the sentence above can be translated also as "I have dictionaries." or "I have a dictionary." Usually it isn't an answer to someone's question, e.g. "Do you have a dictionary?" but rather when talking about it "I have dictionaries, but I'm not a nerd." (not that it actually is very relevant)

The negation of this verb is never formed with 不 (bù), but always with 没 (méi).

我没有词典 (wǒ méi yǒu cídiǎn) - Literal: I not have dictionary - I don't have a dictionary

To be able to (can): Capability to do someting

There are several auxiliary verbs for expressing ability to do something. First of all there are 能 (néng) and 可以 (kěyǐ), both expressing a natural ability to do something.

我能给你词典 (wǒ néng gěi nǐ cídiǎn) - Literal: I can give you dictionary - I can give you the dictionary
我可以给你词典 (wǒ kěyǐ gěi nǐ cídiǎn) - Literal: I can give you dictionary - I can give you the dictionary

The negation of both 能, as well as 可以 is 不能 and NEVER 不可以*.

我不能给你词典 (wǒ bú néng gěi nǐ cídiǎn) - Literal: I not can give you dictionary - I can't give you the dictionary

能 and可以 are both often used expressing a quantity related to a natural ability to do something.

The verb 会 (hùi) is used to express an acquired ability to do something:

我会用词典 (wǒ huì yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I can use dictionary - I can use a dictionary, I know how to use a dictionary
我会说汉语 (wǒ huì shūo hànyǔ) - Literal: I can speak mandarin-chinese - I can speak Mandarin Chinese
我会汉语 (wǒ huì hànyǔ) | Literal: I can mandarin-chinese - I can speak Mandarin Chinese / I know Mandarin Chinese

能 and 可以 also have another usage, that of being permitted to do something, this same use is also implicit in the english verb "can".

我能给你词典 (wǒ néng gěi nǐ cídiǎn) - Literal: I can give you dictionary - I can give you the dictionary [as in: I have permission to give you the dictionary]
我可以给你词典 (wǒ kěyǐ gěi nǐ cídiǎn) - Literal: I can give you dictionary - I can give you the dictionary [as in: I have permission to give you the dictionary]
我能给你词典吗? (wǒ néng gěi nǐ cídiǎn ma?) - I can give you dictionary [QP]? - Can I give you the dictionary?

To have to (must): Obligations and forbidding

Expressing a strong obligation in Chinese is done with the verb 必得 (bìděi), 必须 (bìxū) or 必要 (bìyào):

我必得用词典 (wǒ bìděi yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I must use dictionary - I must use the dictionary

Note that in the above cases a strong obligation is meant, like the teacher ordered you to use a dictionary, and you will fail the assignment if you don't. A much weaker obligation, like the english "ought to" is also expressable in chinese, with the verb 应该 (yīnggāi) or 应当 (yīnggāi):

我应该用词典 (wǒ yīnggāi yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I ought use dictionary - I ought to use the dictionary / I must use the dictionary

When expressing the opposite of of an obligation to do something, forbidding to do something, there you should use 不必 (bú bì)

我不必用词典 (wǒ bú bì yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not need use dictionary - I needn't use a dictionary / I do not need to use a dictionary [as in: There is not need at all to use the dictionary]
我不能用词典 (wǒ bú néng yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not can use dictionary - I cannot use a dictionary / I am not allowed to use a dictionary [as in: I am forbidden to use a dictionary]

To put it a bit less strongly, but with a moralising emphasis, you can use 不应该 (bù yīnggāi)

我不应该用词典 (wǒ bù yīnggāi yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not ought use dictionary - I mustn't use a dictionary / I can't use a dictionary / I ought not to use a dictionary

We can take again more force out of it using 不用 (bù yòng) or 不须要 (bù xūyào)

我不须要用词典 (wǒ bù xū yào yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not have-to use dictionary - I must not use a dictionary / I don't have to use a dictionary

Another neutral way of expressing this is:

我别用词典 (wǒ bié yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I must-not use dictionary - I must not use a dictionary / I don't have to use a dictionary
我不要用词典 (wǒ bú yào yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not must use dictionary - I must not use a dictionary / I don't have to use a dictionary

to want: Desire to do something

A good way of expressing desire to do something at a specific moment is by using 想 (xiǎng):

我想用词典 (wǒ xiǎng yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I want use dictionary - I would like to use a dictionary / I want to use a dictionary
我不想用词典 (wǒ bù xiǎng yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not want use dictionary - I wouldn't like to use a dictionary / I don't want to use a dictionary

A strong desire in general, can be expressed using 爱 (ài):

我爱用词典 (wǒ ài yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I love use dictionary - I love using dictionaries
我不爱用词典 (wǒ bù ài yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not love use dictionary - I don't like using dictionaries

肯 (kěn) is used to express a wanting or being ready to do something, with less emphasis on desire:

我肯用词典j (wǒ kěn yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I willing-to use dictionary - I am willing to use a dictionary
我不肯用词典 (wǒ bù kěn yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not willing-to use dictionary - I am not willing to use a dictionary

要 (yào) expresses also a strong desire (or refusal when negated) to do something, it is also used to express future tense, but more about that in a later chapter:

我要用词典 (wǒ yào yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I want use dictionary - I want to use a dictionary
我不要用词典 (wǒ bù yào yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not want use dictionary - I don't want to use a dictionary

to dare: Daring to do something

Expressing having the courage to do something is done with the verb 敢 (gǎn):

我敢用词典 (wǒ gǎn yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I dare use dictionary - I dare to use a dictionary
我不敢用词典 (wǒ bù gǎn yòng cídiǎn) - Literal: I not dare use dictionary - I don't dare to use a dictionary

might: Possibility/Probability

The construction 会...的 (huì...de) is used to express a possibility or probability in the future.

我会用词典的 (wǒ huì yòng cídiǎn de) - I might use a dictionary
我不会用词典的 (wǒ bú huì yòng cídiǎn de) - I might not use a dictionary

Specifying Location in Mandarin Chinese

Position words

The following list of position words is used for expressing position, the character between braces is the _obligatory_ suffix that should be added when using the postposition, when there are multiple you can choose any of them. The characters that are marked with an asterisk can also appear directly as postposition (behind the noun) without needing a suffix.

这里/这儿 - zhèlĭ/zhèr - here
那里/那儿 - nǎlĭ/nǎr - there
上 (*/边/面/头) - shàng (biān/miàn/tou) - above, on
下 (*/边/面/头) - xià (biān/miàn/tou) - below, under
里 (*/边/面/头) - lĭ (biān/miàn/tou) - in(side)
外 (*/边/面/头) - wài (biān/miàn/tou) - out(side)
後 (边/面/头) - hòu (biān/miàn/tou) - behind
前 (边/面/头) - qián (biān/miàn/tou) - in front (of)
对 (面) - duì (miàn) - opposite (to)
旁 (边) - páng (biān) - aside,near
中 (间) - zhōng (ji�?n) - between
这 (边/面) - zhè (biān/miàn) - at this side (of)
那 (边/面) - nǎ (biān/miàn) - at that side (of)
左 (边/面) - zuǒ (biān/miàn) - left (of)
石 (边/面) - yòu (biān/miàn) - right (of)

Note: In Chinese the points of the compass are usually listed in the order of: East, South, West, North. Not in the usual Western order of North, South, East, West.

东 (边) - dōng (biān) - east (of)
南 (边) - nán (biān) - south (of)
西 (边) - xī (biān) - west (of)
北 (边) - běi (biān) - north (of)

These position words can appear in several ways in a sentence, they can appear independently, which is by the way the only way in which 这里 and 那里 can appear:

这里是房子 (zhèl�? shì fàngzi) - Literal: here is house - Here is the house
房子在北边 (fàngzi zài běi bi�?n) - Literal: house is north - The house is in the north

The position words can also be used adjectively:

北边的房子 (běi bi�?n de fàngzi) - Literal: north [DP] house - the northern house

Postpositions

But the most common use is to be used as postposition:

房子後面 (fàngzi hòu miàn) - Literal: house behind - behind the house
房子外边 (fàngzi wài biān) - Literal: house outside - outside of the house
房子外 (fàngzi wài) - Literal: house outside - outside of the house

When there are two items, such as often is the case when using "between", then you can use a postposition in the following way, using the Chinese word for "and": 和 (hé):

在我的房子和你的房子之间 (wǒ de fàngzi hé n�? de páng bi�?n) - Literal: my house and your house between - between my house and your house

The main three verbs

There are several verbs associated with expressing location, the main ones being 在 (zài), 是 (shì) and 有(yǒu). The two latter we have already seen before.

When using 是 (shì), the position must appear at the start of the sentences:

房子外是我 (fàngzi wài shì wǒ) - Literal: house out am I - I am outside of the house

The more common 在 (zài) works the other way round, the position has to appear at the end of the sentence:

我在房子外 (wǒ zài fàngzi wài) - Literal: I located-at house outside - I am outside of the house

有(yǒu) (which you know is also used to indicate possession, "to have") can be used in this context to mean "there is/are" and is usually used with undetermined things, unlike 是 (shì). The position also has to be at the start of the sentence here:

北京里有房子 (běijīng l�? yǒu fàngzi) - Literal: Beijing in have house - There are houses in Beijing

在 (zài) can also be used as a locational preposition, instead of a verb. 在 (zài) will then be followed by the position it applies to and then will be followed by a position word, this position word is not necessary though when the position is a geographical name or a very common place.

我在房子後面给你辞典 (wǒ zài fàngzi hòu miàn gěi n�? cídiǎn) - Literal: I [LOC.PREP] house behind give you dictionary - I give you the dictionary behind the house

Note that the construction is: subject - locational preposition - position - position word - predicate - object.

在 (zài) can also be used to express "at my place", "at your place" etc..., in this case it is followed by a personal pronoun and the word for here or there

我在你这儿 (wǒ zài n�? zhèr) - Literal: I located-at you here - I'm at your place (here)
我在你这里 (wǒ zài n�? zhè l�?) - Literal: I located-at you here - I'm at your place (here)
我在你那儿 (wǒ zài n�? nǎr) - Literal: I located-at you there - I'm at your place (there)
我在你那里 (wǒ zài n�? nǎ l�?) - Literal: I located-at you there - I'm at your place (there)