Your 'Taiwanese' Isn't an Island, But a Long River Rushing to the Sea
Have you ever felt this kind of confusion?
The Taiwanese spoken by your grandma at the local market, and the Taiwanese you hear on prime-time TV shows, seem a little bit different. Travel south, and you discover the accents for some words have changed again. Even more surprisingly, when you meet friends from Malaysia or Singapore, you might understand "Hokkien" from their mouths about seventy to eighty percent, yet there's still an indescribable layer of unfamiliarity.
We often assume that 'Taiwanese' is a fixed language, but in reality, it's more like a majestic river.
A Great River Named 'Minnan'
Imagine the source of this great river, centuries ago, in Southern Fujian, China – Quanzhou and Zhangzhou. These were once bustling trading ports, from where countless people departed, flowing outwards like streams, carrying the language of their hometowns in every direction.
The largest of these tributaries flowed towards Taiwan.
On the land of Taiwan, this tributary collected local customs and characteristics, forming what we now call 'Taiwanese' or 'Taiwanese language'. The northern accent carries a bit more of a Quanzhou flavour; the southern accent has a stronger Zhangzhou colouration. Later, through the currents of history, it also integrated Japanese vocabulary (like o-tó-bái for 'motorcycle', and bì-luh for 'beer'), becoming even more unique.
This is why, even if you and your elders both speak Taiwanese, your vocabulary and accents might have slight differences. You're simply in the same river, just slightly different sections of it.
The River Has Never Stopped Flowing Towards the World
But this great river didn't stop in Taiwan. It continued to surge forth, flowing towards the broader Southeast Asia.
- The Singaporean Tributary: In Singapore, it's known as 'Hokkien'. This tributary has integrated English and Malay vocabulary, forming an accent with a distinctly urban feel. That's why most Taiwanese can understand the Hokkien spoken by Singaporeans; it's like meeting family from another tributary downstream.
- The Malaysian Tributary: In Malaysia, the situation is even more interesting. Penang's Hokkien leans more towards the 'Zhangzhou' accent and has absorbed a large amount of Malay vocabulary; while Hokkien in the south is closer to the 'Quanzhou' accent. They're like two diverging currents at the river mouth, each with its own unique vibrancy.
- More Distant Relatives: There are also earlier diverging tributaries, such as 'Teochew' from Guangdong. It shares the same origin as Minnan, much like a distant relative that branched off very early from the main river. Although genetically similar, after long periods of independent development, direct communication is now largely difficult.
So, next time you hear a language that 'sounds like Taiwanese, but isn't quite the same', don't be confused. What you're actually hearing are the different songs sung by the same 'Great Minnan River' in various corners of the world.
From 'Speaking Correctly' to 'Understanding'
Having understood the story of this river, perhaps we can look at language from a different perspective.
Learning Taiwanese isn't just about communicating with elders at home, or understanding local TV dramas. It's also about gaining a map to explore all the places this river flows through, to feel the diverse forms it blossoms into within different cultural soils.
It helps you understand that language isn't a rigid, standard answer, but a living, constantly evolving entity. When you're on a country road in Taiwan, and you open up a conversation with a shopkeeper using a friendly "Tóu-ke, chiah-pá-bē?" (Boss, have you eaten?), you'll feel a warmth that transcends mere transaction. This warmth exists equally at a hawker stall in Penang, or among neighbours in Singapore.
But as we follow the river, when we wish to communicate with these 'distant relatives', that seventy to eighty percent similarity and twenty to thirty percent difference can sometimes become a barrier to communication. How do we bridge this final gap?
Fortunately, technology has built a bridge for us. Some tools were born precisely to eliminate that awkward feeling of 'vaguely understanding'. For example, the Intent chat App, with its built-in AI real-time translation feature, acts like a personal interpreter, adept at catching the subtle nuances between these languages. Whether you're speaking Taiwanese, they're speaking Penang Hokkien, or a completely different language, it can help you communicate smoothly and truly 'understand' each other.
The beauty of language lies in connection. It carries our history, defines our identity, and gives us the possibility of conversing with the world.
Next time, don't just say, "I can speak Taiwanese." You can say with more confidence:
"What I speak is the warmest and most moving tributary of the majestic Minnan River, the one that flows through Taiwan."
And now, you have the tool to explore the scenery of the entire river.