I recently saw a photo on Facebook of a Caucasian man covered with a tattoo comprising four Chinese characters on the side of his leg that read zyu yuk caau faan; this translates as “fried rice with pork” in English. You can imagine the hilarious comments from other Facebook users who were privy to the young man’s faux pas (if it even was one). …
We shouldn’t make fun or laugh at people who choose to wear Chinese characters as tattoos. On the contrary, we should applaud and thank them for admiring and promoting Chinese culture for all to see.…
Hong Kong desperately needs foreigners like this who love the city so much that they are willing to openly express their fondness for it as often as possible and in whichever form they can.
We are in dire need of these unofficial “ambassadors” to speak to the world about Hong Kong’s qualities, its innate charm, and uniqueness. We need people like this to sing its praises whenever permissible because Hongkongers aren’t doing enough at the moment. [Link]
This reminds me 35 years ago I go to pick up my young daughter from a sleepover at a friend’s house, a fancy place they’d recently remodelled partly in Japanese style, rice-paper dining doors, tatami mats. The mum showed off the new curtains, with black kanji characters running down them. She thought they were Japanese poetry, and asked if I could translate. In fact they were simply the transliterated name of the manufacturer, repeated over and over. She hasn’t even been able to see that there was endless repetition. I hesitated before telling her. But couldn’t resist. She was livid; “I’ll kill them…” she said through gritted teeth.
One of the comments at the story notes Japanese are always wearing T-shirts with random crazy, rude words.
