The Chinese Obsession with Numbers

3585

3680 

4094

5725

Do you recognise the numbers above? If you find them to be quite familiar, you must have been diligently following our nation's number of Covid-19 infections in the past 4 days ... for various reasons. I say 'various reasons' because I know of some who genuinely study the numbers to analyze the pattern of infection or to speculate whether the nation will have to undergo the highly-rumoured lockdown come February 4. Even so, there are others who look at the numbers and are only able to see potential 4-digits (4D) winning lotteries (think Toto, Magnum, da ma cai etc.). Among this final batch of observers, one can bet that many are actually Chinese... 

We Chinese have always been known to be obsessed with numbers. Every number (as well as every combination of numbers) has its own interpretation, and this cannot be more true than for Cantonese (and Hakka) speakers. Perhaps, to get a better grasp of this entry, it helps to first take a look at the picture below courtesy of the Viking Barca website and to study how each number is pronounced in the Cantonese dialect: 

If you have just failed your mathematic paper, or hate numbers in general, you may find this entry very disturbing and tortuous as it is ALL about numbers and nothing else. If that be the case, please feel free to stop reading here. But if you are a Cantonese speaker, you may be able to relate and laugh at some of these puns with numbers...

(You may need to pardon my lack of knowledge in Chinese characters and inaccurate pinyin, though. I am just trying to capture the right sound.) 

I think most people already know that in the Chinese culture, the digit "8" is auspicious, whereas the number "4" is NOT so popular among those who are superstitious. This is because the digit "8" (baat) is often conveniently tweaked as fatt, which means "to prosper". To the Chinese, "prosperity" is the world. On the contrary, the digit "4" (say) has the same sound as "sei" i.e. "to die". Naturally, most Chinese (being the money-minded monsters that we are) will prefer number 8, and avoid no. 4 like a plague. 

For this reason, many apartments, condominiums, and high-rise buildings DO NOT have a unit no. 4 or a Level 4 in its premise. This comes as a surprise, especially to foreigners. Instead of a Level 4, you will most likely see Levels 1, 2, 3, 3A, 5 etc. This also stretches on to Levels 11, 12, 13, 13A, 15... because the number "10" sap sounds even more similar to saat which means "definitely". To have Level 14 is, therefore, equivalent to saat say, which in typical Chinese translation means ... "sure die wan!" 

A foreigner exclaims his surprise at the unusual buttons found in Malaysian lifts

If you think it ends here, you are wrong because Level 24 is not going to be any better. The digit "2" in Cantonese is pronounced as yee, which also means "easy". Of course, by itself, the number promises ease in all sorts of situation. Case in point, if one's unit is at no. 23, it would be yee sam or yee sang which is good for couples who are trying to start a family. As for unit no. 28, it would be yee fatt i.e. "easy/smooth prosperity". Nonetheless, when paired with an inauspicious digit, namely "4", it can only mean "disaster". Yee say is to "die easily". While optimists look at 24 as a blessing (hmm... it certainly beats struggling in death), the Chinese also avoid this like a pandemic! 

If a building has many floors, I suspect that the units on the 88th floor would most likely be the priciest of all. You see, to have double '8' is akin to "double prosperity". Actually, anything ending with an "8" is almost certain to be auspicious. I use the term "almost" because there is an exception to the rule. While it is considered positive to work at Level 48 (say fatt, which denotes "endless prosperity"), superstitious business men and women may avoid setting up their office at Level 58 (mm fatt)! The digit "5", mm, reverses everything because it simply means "no/not". To have one's office at Level 58 suggests that business is NOT going to prosper. Isn't that wonderfully ironic? 

Oh, have you also come across Chinese restaurants with weird numbers (not based on their actual unit number, mind you) on their signboards? I have seen Restoran 168 (yat lou fatt = "prosperity all the way", and Restoran 118 (yat yat fatt = "daily prosperity"), but I am quite sure there are Restoran 128 and 188 somewhere as well. 

It is possible, however, for the same digits to mean absolutely different things when arranged in different sequence. For instance, while it is flattering to have 4848 (say fatt say fatt = a repetition of "continuous prosperity", the number has a less impressive interpretation when it is arranged in the reverse, 8484 (fatt say fatt say = "prosper to death")! 

Yet another set of numbers which I find particularly interesting is 5354 (mm sam mm say). My late uncle and aunty used that phrase very often to describe dodgy characters. Likewise, 9394 (gow sam gow say) is to dabble in questionable activities. Needless to say, both combinations have negative connotations! 

Image taken from diamondpaintings.com

This Chinese obsession with numbers is an endless affair. In addition to the pun on numbers, they have also come up with clever and creative phrases/idioms by personifying numbers. When a total stranger demands for our assistance, we tend to justify our reluctance to help by explaining that after all, sam mm sik chaat, which is a direct translation for "no. 3 knoweth not no. 7". Because 3 is far from 7 (and not immediately next to each other), it implies that there is no obligation between these two persons. They are strangers, after all. 

How often have we been guilty of expressing irrelevant ideas or said things that are out of sequence? In Cantonese, there is also an interesting phrase to describe this context: gow mm tup baat (simply said, 9 does not follow after 8). Isn't that an intelligent roundabout way of insulting someone who has just said something irrelevant? Under normal circumstances, no. 9 should follow after no. 8, but in this case, it doesn't. That is so much easier to say (and to understand) than the Latin version i.e. non sequitur.

I suppose one can go on and on playing with numbers and coming up with various interpretations. I know I would have to if I were a car sales executive who is trying to justify the number plate for clients or a property agent who is trying to sell a unit. 

Do you know of any other combination that sounds enlightening or entertaining? Do let me know. Till then, continue to have fun with numbers! 

Virtual Ambivalence: Little Things about Online Classes I will Secretly Miss

I was down to the second last class of the semester before the first MCO (Movement Control Order) was announced in March 2020. With only one class left to go, I set out to record the final lecture. 

In all my years of teaching, never have I thought that I would one day be caught 'working' in front of a camera. Before this, the camera used to be exclusively reserved for actors, models, and those in the entertainment industry. These days, however, we do not need to have a pretty face, a sexy figure, or a 42-inch pair of legs to get onto the screen. In fact, everyone gets more than their share of 5-seconds fame ... to the horror of many.

And if you happen to be a lecturer, you get way more screen-time than anyone else. 

Oh, of course, whether anyone is actually listening on the other side is an entirely different topic altogether. But I digress...

If you know me well enough, (or even if you don't) you would have probably guessed that I am a mimosa pudica, a touch-me-not, when I am in front of a camera. I am capable of performing the most acrobatic matrix moves when I sense myself getting within the frame of any camera. Suffice to say, I have the chubbiest face, the flabbiest body, and the lowest self esteem - the worst combo if you wish to appear on screen. I hate the camera and the camera hates me. The feeling is definitely mutual. I am just more of ... er, what you would call .... a wordy person rather than a visual one! 

Little did we know, however, that Lil Ms Corona would come and transform everyone into an overnight avatar. I, for one, had to finally tear off the sticker on my webcam and use the camera during live sessions via Zoom with the students. In addition, we were also expected to record some of our lectures using PowerPoint slides presentation. This proved to be equally challenging, too, considering that I am not blessed with a cheerful, chirpy voice. On another note, though, my students should be grateful that I am providing the most effective balm to cure insomnia --- albeit in the form of my recorded PowerPoint lectures. =) 

See the sticker covering the webcam? That had to be eventually removed...

When the MCO was first implemented in March, I was curious enough to conduct a quick poll via Zoom to find out if students preferred online or physical classes. After all, the local newspapers then had raved about how both educators and students adored and welcomed online classes. The result? 75 percent of all three groups of students preferred physical classes. Hmm ... I wonder where did the local newspapers get their initial source from?

Nonetheless, now that we have had months of online classes, those same students may have a different point of view. I mean, there are certainly a couple of things which even I, the mimosa pudica of the virtual world, will miss when this whole online learning bites the dust, if it ever does. 

#1 Sleeping In

I think both lecturers and students alike appreciate the extra snooze we now get before class. Under normal circumstances, I would have to leave the house by around 6:30 AM (and even that is sometimes considered late) if I plan to reach my workplace in time for morning classes. Half the time, it's so early that I am not even human yet as I drive on the highway. 

With online classes, I do not need to get up as early, and as a bonus, there is no need to join the heavy traffic and to 'silently cuss' at other drivers at the beginning of the day. I know this is also true for the students because many have confessed that they have woken up just 5 minutes prior to logging on to Zoom. Surprisingly, some of them can still look sleepy and dazed for their 11:00 AM classes! Sleeping in is a perk we will lose when physical classes resume. 

#2 Stretching Out

In addition to sleeping in, I also appreciate the opportunities to stretch on the bed, sofa, or floor in between classes (and during short-breaks, too). Many a time (actually, almost all the time that I am in campus), I would tell my colleagues how I wish to rent a bed just for half an hour or a few short hours to stretch my back. Coincidentally, there were some shoplot hotels renting out their rooms at an hourly rate right opposite one of the colleges where I used to teach. One fine day, I mentioned my desire to rent one of those rooms to take a quick nap. My colleagues then laughed at me and informed me that those 'rooms' were only meant for hanky-panky lunch-hour 'businesses'. (If you get it, then you get it. If you don't, then congratulations, for you have yet to be corrupted by this world.) 

To me, being able to stretch my back really makes a lot of difference. You see, I am not good at sitting still on chairs and I do have the worst posture. Being confined in that position for a long time is utmost torture for me. Stretching on the sofa, bed, and floor is certainly yet another thing I will miss when physical classes resume. 

#3 Multitasking 

One massive advantage of attending online classes is that we get to multitask on a really large scale. I have been guilty of this, both as a host and as a participant. I have soaked my dirty laundry, vacuumed the room, and even washed the toilet during those 10-minute breaks given to students. That, is one of the benefits of having the bathroom right next to my room (where I conduct the live classes). Well, I just need to check that the video and the mic are not switched on. 

As a participant, I have done much worse things. One can find me marking exam papers, preparing for other classes, and folding laundry while listening to the speaker(s). Once, I actually ran around, cooking nasi goreng kampung for my family while attending a webinar with other lecturers. How? I placed the laptop in the kitchen, switched off the camera and mic, and ran back and forth from the laptop to the chopping board, to the kitchen basin, and to the stove. (Of course, our kitchen is super small!) I had even unmuted the microphone to ask and answer questions throughout the session in case they thought that I was not present. The result? The facilitator complimented me for my contributions during the session. Haha! If there is one thing which online classes propagate, it would be sheer hypocrisy!

This was the actual nasi goreng kampung made during the webinar. Not bad, uh? 

#4 Dressing Sloppily

I suspect many lecturers would probably agree that we have become much sloppier in our dressing these days, thanks to online classes. A colleague mentioned that she only plans to look presentable from her neck upwards because that is all that the webcam can capture. While I may not have her courage (in case I have to move about in the middle of class and thus expose myself), I notice that I have been stealing opportunities to wear some of my oldest, most faded, or uncomfortable blouses paired with that pair of slacks that has a faulty zipper. Under normal circumstances, I would have felt really insecure to risk such wardrobe, but knowing that I am in the comfort of my own room, and without watchful eyes, I can easily get away with these sloppy attires. 

To be fair, another reason why some of us choose not to dress up is also because we are no longer in the freezing air-conditioned classrooms in campus, but trapped in the afternoon heat of our non-air conditioned bedrooms! Now that I come to think of it, all of my blazers, jackets, and scarves have not been aired since physical classes had been banned. It is quite impossible to wrap ourselves in such thick, rigid attires in the heat of our home. 

 

#5 Snacking 

I guess the thing I am going to miss the most when physical classes resume is the uninterrupted accessibility to snacks. When I was a full-timer, I used to have a darurat stash (emergency stash) right under the office desk. I would stock up all sorts of canned food, biscuits, packet drinks, instant drinks ... and basically everything that would prevent me from starving in the event a state of emergency is declared. As a part-timer who does not have a designated desk, though, I have had to sacrifice this darurat stash since 2016. I will have to walk over to the canteen or the convenience store to buy snacks if I wish to have any. 

Snacks at home, on the other hand, is endless. Ask anyone who has ever been to our house. From carrots to candies, biscuits to broccolis, you name it, we have it! But the most exciting sight is when I walk into the kitchen and see Mom preparing all sorts of hot, random snacks. Being confined at home (and often glued to YouTube) has prompted her to try various recipes from cekodok pisang, cucur udang, bread, apam balik, and yau char koey! Oh yes, she has definitely made online classes more fun ... for me, at least! 

With all these perks, I am not quite sure if I am ready to get back to physical classes. Oh, of course, there are MANY, MANY disadvantages of online classes, but I think I may need an entire entry to highlight them. In the meantime, I am just going to enjoy whatever life dishes me. I hope you do, too. 

Cheers and Happy 2021!