Your "Local Tongue": Not Uncouth, But a Forgotten Treasure

Have you ever had one of those moments?

When calling your family, you instinctively want to use Mandarin, feeling it's more "formal"; at a friends' gathering, hearing others speak a dialect, you secretly label it as "uncouth" or "old-fashioned"; and even when asked, "Do you speak your local tongue?", you might shyly reply: "A little bit, but I'm not fluent anymore."

We seem to have all tacitly accepted a fact: Mandarin is "the language", while our mother tongues – those local languages we've grown up hearing, filled with a sense of familiarity – are merely "dialects". A seemingly secondary, less significant form of communication.

But is that really the truth?

A Story About a 'Secret Recipe'

Let's look at this issue from a different perspective.

Imagine your grandmother has a "secret recipe" for Braised Pork Belly, passed down through generations. The taste of this dish is one of your warmest childhood memories. Later, your parents' generation grew up and moved to different cities, such as Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Chengdu. They made subtle adjustments to Grandma's recipe based on local tastes: relatives in Shanghai added a bit more sugar, making it sweet; relatives in Guangzhou incorporated Chu Hou sauce, resulting in a richer flavour; while those in Chengdu added some Pixian bean paste and Sichuan peppercorns, making it spicy and aromatic.

Although these adapted versions of Braised Pork Belly tasted different, their roots all came from Grandma's "secret recipe". Each one was delicious, carrying the unique story and emotion of a branch of the family.

Now, a large chain restaurant has introduced a standardised "National Braised Pork Belly". It tastes good, is uniform nationwide, convenient and quick. For efficiency and consistency, schools, companies, and television programmes all promote this "standard version".

Gradually, people started to believe that only this "standard version" was the true, 'proper' Braised Pork Belly, suitable for any occasion. The sweet, savoury, and spicy "family versions" were deemed "home cooking", not "professional" enough, and even a bit "unsophisticated". Over time, the younger generation only knew the taste of the standard version, and Grandma's secret recipe and those creative adaptations slowly faded into obscurity.

Doesn't this story sound rather regrettable?

In essence, our "dialects" are those unique, historically rich "family heirloom Braised Pork Belly dishes". And Mandarin is that efficient, standardised "national version".

Minnan, Cantonese, Wu, Hakka... they are not "regional variations" of Mandarin, but languages that have developed in parallel with Mandarin over the course of history, both originating from ancient Chinese. They are like different branches thriving independently on a large family tree, rather than mere twigs sprouting from the main trunk.

Calling Minnan "a Chinese dialect" is akin to calling Spanish or French "Latin dialects". From a linguistic perspective, the differences between them have long reached the level of "language" versus "language", not "language" versus "dialect".

What Do We Lose When a 'Dish' Disappears?

When a "family heirloom dish" disappears, we lose more than just a taste.

We lose the sight of Grandma bustling about in the kitchen, we lose that unique family memory, we lose an emotional connection that cannot be replicated by a "standard version".

Similarly, when a "dialect" declines, we lose far more than just a communication tool.

In Penang, Malaysia, the local Minnan dialect (known as "Penang Hokkien") faces such a predicament. Generations of Chinese immigrants there used their language to blend with local culture, creating unique vocabulary and expressions. It was not merely a tool for communication, but a vehicle for their identity and cultural heritage. But with the popularisation of English and Mandarin, fewer and fewer young people can speak it fluently.

The disappearance of a language is like the last page being torn from a family history book. The witty remarks, ancient proverbs, and unique sense of humour that can only be precisely expressed through it will all vanish with it. The emotional bond between us and our ancestors also becomes blurred as a result.

Reclaiming Your 'Secret Recipe' is a Source of Pride

Fortunately, more and more people are beginning to recognise the preciousness of these "family heirloom recipes". Just like the young people in Penang who are striving to document and promote Hokkien, they are not clinging to the past, but guarding a treasure.

Nor do we need to choose between our "local tongue" and Mandarin. This is by no means an "either-or" struggle. Mastering Mandarin allows us to communicate with a wider world, while rediscovering our local tongue enables us to understand more deeply who we are and where we come from.

This is a much cooler form of "bilingualism" – being able to master the formality of the official language, whilst also revelling in the intimacy of your local accent.

So, next time you call your family, try chatting in your local tongue. Next time you hear someone speaking a dialect, try to appreciate its unique beauty. If you have children, teach them a few simple phrases in your local tongue; it's just as important as teaching them to remember their own name.

That's not "uncouth"; it's your roots, your unique cultural imprint.

In this era of globalisation, we are more easily connected with the world than ever before. Yet sometimes, the furthest distance lies precisely between us and our closest culture. Fortunately, technology can also become a bridge. For example, if you want to share family stories with relatives overseas but are worried about language barriers, chat tools like Intent with built-in AI translation can help break down initial communication obstacles. It's not meant to replace the language itself, but to build a first bridge for communication, allowing those lost "family secret recipes" to be shared and heard once more.

Don't let your most precious "family heirloom recipe" be lost in your generation.

From today, proudly tell others: "I speak two languages: Mandarin, and my local tongue."