来猜一猜:Come Guess One Guess
If you’re not studying Chinese, you probably don’t get much of this post. In my own time, I’ll post the translations/answers/explanations. Meanwhile, enjoy guessing.
Answers, explanations and a correction are available here.
New Year, New Post
We’ve entered a new year here in the PRC, the Year of the Golden Rabbit. For anyone thinking this is a ridiculously late New Year’s post, keep in mind Chinese holidays follow the traditional lunar calendar, so the year started on February 3rd (making this just an oddly late New Year’s post).
Pictured here is one of five very collectible (to me) 红包 I got this year. 红包 (hong2bao1) are literally “red envelopes” that adults give to children during the first weeks of the new year, usually filled with “lucky” amounts of money. Though it’s not unheard of, it’s strange to give 红包 to adults.
The Trix rabbit, on the other hand, is basically unheard of in the PRC, since Trix cereal isn’t sold here; these 红包 came with a box of Cheerios. Nor are there any commercials using the line, “Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids.”
I almost wonder whether, instead of just being chosen because it’s the only General Mills rabbit mascot, the Trix rabbit isn’t suddenly appearing here as part of an obscure joke, the unspoken English catch-phrase changing to “Silly rabbit*, 红包 are for kids.” The Chinese on the envelope is 茁壮成长(zhuo2zhuang4cheng2zhang3), “Growing/maturing vigorously.” Taken together, it’s almost like saying, “My, but you’re getting big so fast…guess this will be your last 红包.” Or maybe it’s only me that makes that connection.
For anyone wondering why the 福 (fu2) on the rabbit’s cereal bowl is upside-down, this is a widely followed tradition. The 福 or “luck” hanzi is usually hung upside-down, because the Chinese for upside-down, 倒 (dao4), sounds like the Chinese for arrive, 到 (dao4), so an upside-down 福 sounds like luck arriving.
*小兔崽子(xiao3tu4zai3zi5) or “son of a rabbit” is a slightly rude way to refer to a kid, but I do hear parents here fondly using it to tease their own children.
万圣节快乐!
严格的说,今天是万圣节快乐,昨天就是Halloween,另外一个节日。看一看,圣的意思就是saints,还可以说hallows. 西方人的传统节日,All Hallows Day, 是每年的十一月一号,这节日是跟基督教有关系的。原来这个节日可能被翻译对的,但是现在的用法错了。
Strictly speaking, today is what Chinese call 万圣节, not Halloween. The 圣 means “saints,” or “hallows” as it appears in the holiday name. (万, literally “ten thousand”, is often used just to mean “a lot.”) The Western All Hallows Day, November 1st, is a Christian holiday. Originally this holiday was perhaps translated correctly, but it’s now used incorrectly.
Living Seriously
One typo gets repeated again and again in this sign, and while it may seem bizarre to confuse “t” and “e,” it’s not so difficult when you realize most Chinese begin writing each with a horizontal line, then finish “t” with the curving downstroke in 七 and finish “e” with a similar (and unnatural to their writing style) curving up-down stroke. The “r/”l” typo in “esprosive” is neither particularly common nor unheard of; the “s/x” typo is very common.
(For anyone who still thinks it seems strange, try remembering that 巳 is one of the Earthly Branches, 已 means “already,” and 己 means “self.” )
Aside from that on little letter turning “lift” into “life,” this sign is almost perfectly translated. (Note that the British “lift” is preferred to the American “elevator”; the addition of a definite article in the instruction “Take care of the children” also makes me think of Reverend Lovejoy’s wife: “Won’t anyone think of the children?”)
While the “life” typo renders most of these instructions nonsensical, “For your safety, please do not play or rock around inside the life” has a wonderful Orwellian feel to it that has me laughing every time I leave my apartment. To anyone thinking that life in China is like 1983, note that this young woman has chosen to ignore this prohibition completely:
There’s not a rat helmet in sight in that picture , though her purchases do seem to include a kicky version of Darth Vader’s helmet. (I’m still looking for a better picture of that ad.)
Quick quiz: Which hanzi means “self”? a) 已 b) 己 c) 巳
Not Just a Reminder
Just for context, this notice shows up in the elevators of a development I won’t mention. I’ve pinked out some names and numbers in the photo. There’s a lot of tricky little differences between the original and Chinese in this one, but the eye-grabbingly hilarious one is
This “sweet reminder” is a translation of the Chinese 温馨提示, which in English more or less just means “Notice.” The literal Chinese version of “Notice” is 通知, but the 温馨提示 is a common way of labeling “No smoking” or “Keep off the grass” signs. 提示 translates simply as “sign”; however, 温馨, meaning something like “heart-warming,” introduces a weird little element of Chinese culture into the culture gap–namely the rather new idea that notices announcing things like “Trespassers will be killed on sight” should be heart-warming, touching, friendly, or at least contrivedly cute.
Therefore, you get such heart-warming signs as “Green-green grass, cherish it under the foot,” instead of the straightforward “Keep off the grass.” These are supposed to be more “human” than the previously used signs. According to one of my teachers, 温馨 is like the feeling brought about by the knoweldge of a mother’s (or an enlightened father’s) love. So the more “human” translation of 温馨提示 would be something like, heart-warming-as-knowing-that-your-mother-loves-you sign (and, by the way, put your dog’s excrement in a baggie).
I like to think of such notices as announcing, “Hi! I’m a friendly little sign with fragile feelings,” and then for the most part ignore their advice, especially when the friendly little sign is suggesting I not smoke in a smoky restaurant that provides ashtrays. Good luck, January 1st.
Now, we get into the big translation gap, which is that the original Chinese really is much more motherly than the English. The first chunk of the Chinese translates roughly as follows:
“Honorable Tenants: As the neighborhood’s number of pets are continuously increasing, so the noise regarding dog-raising etiquette [literally “raise-animal civilization”] is getting louder and louder. But in some instances, owners [保姆–roughly, nannies] are not paying attention to dog-raising etiquette, walking dogs within the neighborhood without using a leash, allowing dogs to 小大便 [“little-big-convenience,” i.e., urinate and defecate] as they like. Not only does not using a leash ruin the cleanliness of the neighborhood’s environment, but it also results in dogs running and scurrying about all willy-nilly, chasing people [that is the best translation of 随意乱跑乱窜追逐行人 that will ever be written, if I say so myself] and giving other tenants a big fright. The impression left on old or frail people–and children–is even greater. Heavens forbid [万一, literally, “ten thousand to one”] there should be an accident of the sort that no one wants to see (In the present time, in other neighborhoods [目前其他小区], tenants have been bitten by dogs.)
“Because of the above, the management reminds dog owners of the following:
“1, Any dog-owners who have not already done so should register their dogs as soon as possible, and at the same time have rabies-shots administered in a timely manner to their dogs.
“2, Regarding violent dogs and large dogs, they should be tethered or kept in cages. It is not allowed to carry your ‘dog-baby’ [That’s literal! 狗宝宝!] into the clubroom or guest elevators. When taking ‘dog-babies’ outside, please carry a garbage bag with you and clean up your dog’s squirted-out feces [Again, that’s literal–排出的粪便] in a timely manner. Also, please put a muzzle and harness on your dog and only allow adults to lead the dog by the collar.
“If you have any concerns regarding dogs, please call…”–END
Now, from my experience, the big and violent dogs in question are generally about the size of beagles, while the “dog babies” are at largest mini-pugs. Notice that the management officially recommends using muzzles and harnesses for all dogs too small to be constantly tethered or caged (even toy poodles). Even more alarming is the English version of the notice.
Apparently the writer found his or her English not up to the task of translating the saccharine heart warming message, and what we get in English is quite abrupt. Nothing is said about the cleanliness of the environment or dog-raising etiquette; instead it’s all about health and safety:
“In order to safeguard health and the personal safety of the tenants in [neighborhood name deleted] please pay more attention to points as follow:
“1, Please inject bacterin into your dog regularly to prevent hydrophobia.
“2, Please tie up your dog when you walk the pets. [Foreigners apparently own dogs so dangerous they must hogtie them before going for a walk.]
“3, Please wear protective mouthpiece and dog chain on your dog and please keep your dog on a lead by adult or safeguards. [These dogs are so dangerous, dog-walkers should wear mouthguards.]
“4, Please take a garbage bag when you walk the pets.
“5, Please don’t take dog into the club and the guest ladder [ladder is the literal translation of 梯, the second hanzi in 客梯, or guest elevator.]
Notice that in the translated English version, it’s not people in other unspecified locales being bitten by dogs, but local tenants; add that to the first point about rabies-injections, and I have to wonder if it’s just me who reads this as a warning: Rabid dogs are biting people right in our own backyard!
You Can’t Always Trust Spell-check

This one’s from a supermarket in 厦门. It’s easy enough to see how such signs happen; I always forget characters myself when I write sentences. 购物袋 are shopping bags, though seeing it translated as “hopping bags” makes me think of sack races.
And, yes, Chinese supermarkets do now have entire aisles dedicated to shopping bags, specifically fabric tote bags. This is because the Chinese government, in order to limit the amount of plastic bags used in stores, actually requires stores to sell each plastic bag they give to customers. As a result, more and more stores sell cutesy fabric bags, usually covered in cartoon designs.
Interestingly, I’ve almost never heard anyone complain about the added charges, and in my district it sometimes looks like there’s a competition to have the cutest bag collection in the Wal-Mart checkout line. My own favorite bag is the 7-11 one shown below, which I not only used for shopping, but also to carry my books to classes my first term:
The happy little Earth is all ready to do some serious cleaning. The Chinese exclamations are 爱护环境! and 少用胶带!–“Take good care of the environment!” and “Use fewer plastic bags!”
When I was back home in the States, I was often frustrated by cashiers’ putting my one-item purchases into large plastic bags, especially since many of my purchases were already in bags, which seems a little backwards to me now. Maybe it’s time for the US to adopt the same change; if it’s good enough for D.C. and PagoPago, it should be good enough for oh-so-hip California.
While China’s standing as an environmental watch-dog is maybe shaky on points, this is one point on which China clearly has the right idea.
Tough-Talking Macaws

I AM MACAW, I COME FROM AMERICA. I AM VERY BEAUTIFUL, BUT I CAN BITE YOU, SO PLEASE DON’T PLAY ME!
I guess it’s just because the macaw comes from America and is “talking” in all-caps that I can’t help reading the “please” as “puh-lease” and mentally adding the word “sucka” to the end of this sign. (For people outside of the US, in urban dialects that are often used in movies, “play” often means “to take advantage of” or “fool” someone: 骗人.)
我是金刚鹦鹉 should probably be “I am a macaw,” and the 美洲 in 来自美洲 means the American continents, rather than 美国, the United States of America. (Actually, when I meet foreigners in China, I now tell them I “come from the States,” because saying “I’m from America” to indicate the same meaning is sort of ethno-centric.)
The Chinese for 我很漂亮, 却会叫人 is literally “I very beautiful, [“adverb” indicating a change in meaning] can bite people” and the sign-maker did a good job with the idiomatic sentence “I am very beautiful, but I can bite people,” especially since 却 can also translate as “retreat” in different contexts.
Obviously, the problem lies in the word 逗 in 情别逗我, which can translate as “tease,” “tantalize,” “play with,” “entice,” or “attract,” among others. Here, the meaning is clearly “tease.”
逗 is actually a tricky word to “get” (掌握): 他拿着一枝红花逗孩子玩, for example, can translate as “He amuses/entertains a child with a red flower”; in my experience, the actual action of the sentence is similar to a tall guy holding a ball out of the reach of a child, letting it get close enough for the child to grab, then pulling it away while laughing. (This form of playing with a child is apparently universal, though I don’t know whether the desire to punch the jokester in the 丫杈 is as universal.) Clowns are also apparently good at 逗ing 孩子; no comment is available on whether Chinese children have the full range of emotions regarding clowns that American children have.
At zoos here in the Culture Desert at least, attendees are actively encouraged to 逗 animals such as tigers by poking bits of meat on sticks through the bars of cages, so the warning sign here is well deserved. However, since I’m also from America, I’d change the translation a bit: I AM VERY BEAUTIFUL, BUT I CAN TAKE YOU OUT, PLEASE DON’T [傻X]* WITH ME.
I found this sign in an aviary on 鼓浪屿 (Gulangyu), a truly worthwhile vacation destination.
*傻X (silly X)=[expletive deleted]
Hello World! Keep off the dog
南山 (Nanshan) District’s 海岸城 (Coastal City) sports an absolutely massive pedestrian overpass, crossing a major highway, then turning into the walkway for the shopping mall’s upper terrace (which now has not only a Starbucks and Pizza Hut, but the newly added Dunkin’ Donuts and a Burger King).
That’s just a picture of one entrance, which is where I found this sign:
Now, the message should be pretty clear from the dog-with-slash-in-circle sign given, but for the record, the Chinese says 禁止溜狗 (Forbid fill/plaster dog). Now, in classes I’ve learned that 遛 is a word for “strolling,” thus making 遛狗 the word for “walking a dog.” In a few places I’ve also seen 遛犬, where the second hanzi is just another way to write “dog” (and also an important radical). The difference between 遛 (stroll) and 溜 (fill/plaster) is that the first one shows the radical for walking, while the second one shows the radical for water. Perhaps this is a new way of saying “let the dog go number one” that I haven’t heard of.*
Whoever got stuck translating this sign into English had a big puzzler on his hands from the start. Someone, however, has found out that the best way to write “Don’t walk on the grass here” on a sign is simply “Keep off the Grass.” This is the main reason I think the hanzi here are mistyped. “Forbid walk grass”=”Keep off the Grass”; “Forbid walk dog”=”Keep off the Dog.”
What made this one especially funny for me was seeing “Keep off the dog,” thinking I had to get a picture, then slowly realizing as I was lining up my shot that the Chinese sign was telling me “It’s forbidden to fill the dog.” I really hope this sign just means “No Dogs Allowed.”
*Note, it may well be, since 遛 is usually buried well back on the pinyin entry list that people have switched to using 溜 instead. The area, incidentally, is one in which I haven’t ever seen a dog being walked, and the actual walkways are spotlessly clean.









