Your "Taiwanese Hokkien" isn't an isolated island, but a long river flowing into the sea.
Have you ever felt this confusion?
The Taiwanese spoken by grandmas at the local market seems a little different from the Taiwanese you hear on 8 PM TV dramas. Travel south, and you find the accent of some words changes again. What's even more fascinating is when you meet friends from Malaysia or Singapore, you seem to understand 70-80% of their "Hokkien" (Fujianese), yet there's an inexplicable sense of unfamiliarity.
We often assume "Taiwanese Hokkien" is a fixed language, but in reality, it's more like a majestic river.
A Great River Called "Min-nan" (Southern Fujian)
Imagine this: the source of this great river, hundreds of years ago, was in Southern Fujian, China – specifically Quanzhou and Zhangzhou. That was once a bustling trade port. Countless people set off from there, like streams, carrying their native language and flowing in all directions.
The largest of these branches flowed towards Taiwan.
This branch, upon reaching the land of Taiwan, assimilated local customs and culture, forming what we today call "Taiwanese" or "Taiyu". The accent in the north has a bit more of a "Quanzhou" flavour; while the accent in the south carries more of a "Zhangzhou" hue. Later, shaped by the currents of history, it also incorporated Japanese vocabulary (for example, o-tó-bái for 'motorcycle', bì-luh for 'beer'), becoming even more distinctive.
This is why, even if you and your elders both speak Taiwanese Hokkien, your choice of words and accents might have slight differences. You are simply on the same river, but in slightly different stretches of it.
The River, Never Ceasing to Flow Towards the World
But this great river didn't stop its journey in Taiwan. It continued to surge, flowing towards the wider Southeast Asia.
- Singapore's Branch: In Singapore, it's known as "Hokkien". This branch has integrated English and Malay vocabulary, forming an accent with a strong urban feel. So, most Taiwanese can understand the Hokkien spoken by Singaporeans, much like meeting family from another branch downstream.
- Malaysia's Branch: In Malaysia, the situation is even more intriguing. Hokkien in Penang 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 are like two divergent streams at the river mouth, each with its own unique charm.
- Even More Distant Relatives: There are also some branches that diverged even earlier, such as Guangdong's "Teochew" (Chaozhou) dialect. It shares the same origin as Min-nan (Hokkien), like distant relatives who branched off from the river very early on. Though closely related by lineage, after long periods of independent development, direct communication is now quite difficult.
So, next time you hear a language that "sounds like Taiwanese, but isn't quite the same", don't feel confused. What you're hearing is actually the "Min-nan great river" singing different tunes in different corners of the world.
From "Speaking Correctly" to "Truly Understanding"
Understanding the story of this river, we might be able to look at language from a different perspective. Learning Taiwanese Hokkien is not just about communicating with family elders or understanding local TV dramas. It's more about gaining a map to explore all the places this river flows through, and to experience the diverse forms it blossoms into in different cultural soils.
It helps you realise that language isn't a rigid, standard answer, but a living, constantly evolving entity. When you're on a rural road in Taiwan, striking up a conversation with a shopkeeper using a friendly 'Tou-ke, chia̍h-pá bōe?' (Boss, have you eaten yet?), you'll feel a warmth that goes beyond mere transaction. This warmth is equally present at hawker stalls in Penang or among neighbours in Singapore.
But as we follow the river and seek to connect with these "distant relatives", that 70-80% similarity and 20-30% difference can sometimes paradoxically become barriers to communication. How then can we bridge this final mile?
Fortunately, technology has built a bridge for us. Some tools are specifically designed to eliminate this awkwardness of "almost understanding but not quite". For example, the chat app Intent. Its built-in AI real-time translation feature acts like a personal interpreter, capable of keenly capturing the subtle differences between these languages. Whether you speak Taiwanese Hokkien, the other person speaks 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 opens up the possibility for us to converse with the world.
Next time, don't just say "I can speak Taiyu." You can say with more confidence:
"What I speak is the most heartwarming and moving branch of that magnificent Min-nan great river, the one that flows through Taiwan."
And now, you have the tools to discover the entire landscape of this river.