MANILA, Philippines—An intense desire for some object is called a “philia,” as in “bibliophilia” (love of books), in contrast to “bibliophobia,” an extraordinary aversion to books that seems to afflict so many students. A “mania” is even more consuming than a “philia,” manias affecting large numbers of people, like “Beatles mania” used to describe, in the 1960s, the way teenagers swooned over the rock group.

I think “mania” is appropriate as well to describe our obsession these days with the number 8 (octamania). I use the term without the usually negative connotations attached to manias and maniacs. Social scientists analyze these social manias because they give us insights into the mysteries of society and culture.

8/8/08

If you haven’t noticed, today is Aug. 8, 2008 or 8/8/08, and at 8 tonight, there will be much fanfare as Beijing launches the Olympics. The Chinese have spent billions of dollars for the event, from the now iconic Bird’s Nest stadium to grand cultural events and massive security measures to fend off a variety of dissidents. Much is at stake here. The Olympics has been described as a formal coming-out event for China, a way of displaying China’s progress and stability to the world.

The Chinese aren’t taking any chances, and even under a communist regime that supposedly discourages “superstition,” the number 8 has become part of their insurance arsenal, hoping the events will be successful, minimally marred by disruptions.

The Olympics’ launch is only part of a wider Chinese octamania that has been going on for several years now, characterized by people paying for the privilege to use 8 for business names, license plates and phone numbers. This craze has spilled overseas, affecting even non-Chinese.

Yet many people, including the Chinese themselves, are unaware that this octamania, even in China, is fairly recent. My father, who lived in Shanghai in his youth, says there was no such craze when he was there, which was in the 1930s and 1940s. Some of my older Chinese relatives and friends agree, saying that the local Chinese weren’t particularly concerned about the number 8 until recently.

I checked Wolfram Eberhard’s “Dictionary of Chinese Symbols,” a classic first published in 1983, and 8, together with all the other numbers, is discussed for its symbolism and meanings. There’s the 8 items used by a scholar, the 8 Taoist immortals, the 8 trigrams in the “bagua” (a Taoist charm now also used in the Philippines), but nothing about 8 being associated with prosperity, wealth or luck.

“Fat choy”

To understand octamania and its origins, we have to go back to the Chinese’s attachment of magical meanings to words. Simply displaying the word for “luck,” for example, is said to bring good fortune, which is why you see many calendars hanging in Chinese homes with that one word. Moreover, the word is often displayed upside down, because “to invert” is pronounced “dao” in Chinese, the sound that is also used to refer to another word which means “to arrive.” By inverting the word for luck, you actually make it arrive.

It’s the meanings given to sounds that are also behind the Chinese avoidance of the number 4. In almost all Chinese languages, “4” sounds like “death,” which is why buildings in China don’t have a 4th floor, but there are no qualms about a 13th floor, triskaidekaphobia (fear of the number 13) being a Western phenomenon.

Let’s get back now to the number 8. Explaining octamania’s origins is challenging because in Mandarin or Putonghua, the national language of Chinese, 8 is pronounced “pa,” which doesn’t have a particularly lucky or auspicious meaning.

I suspect Chinese octamania might have started in Hong Kong, a hunch based on something pointed out to me several years ago by one of my readers, a noted Chinese-Filipino scholar who prefers to remain anonymous. I had written a column about Chinese New Year and she wrote to ask me to clarify that “kung hei fat choy” is a Cantonese greeting. “Kung hei” means “wishing” while “fat choy” means “produce prosperity” so the phrase means, loosely, “wishing you wealth.”

My scholar-friend was dismayed about how the local media kept using the phrase, when the local Chinese are actually not of Cantonese origins. Most Chinese in the Philippines trace their roots back to Fujian province, where that phrase would be pronounced “kiong hi what jai,” except, my friend emphasized, that the people of Fujian (as well as in many other parts of China) don’t usually wish each other prosperity. The greetings are more generic, for example, “kiong hi sin ni,” which simply conveys warm wishes for a new year.

It seems then the fixation on “fat choy” (producing wealth) is more specific to the Hong Kong Cantonese and most likely linked to their vigorous money-making culture.

Now, how do you think the number 8 is pronounced in Cantonese?

Yes, 888 would be pronounced “fat fat fat” or “produce, produce, produce.” It’s like a mantra: The more 8’s you have in your life, the more wealth you hope to produce. It’s this play on 8 and on “producing” that gives you the 168 mall, where there’s a brisk trade in Chinese goods. “168” is pronounced “yat lok fat” in Cantonese, the same sounds also used for three Chinese characters that mean “one,” “road” and “produce (wealth).” You can actually buy car stickers with the three characters in several local car supply stores and hardware shops.

My Hong Kong anthropologist friends will have to look into the evolution of octamania in Hong Kong itself, but its spread through China was most likely associated with economic liberalization in the 1970s, when China decided to adopt a market economy. Prosperous Hong Kong, even if was at that time still a British colony, was a model not just for economics but also for culture. Things Hong Kong became popular in China, from Cantopop (Cantonese pop music) to this desire for 8.

Similarly, non-Chinese Filipino households are now using Chinese good luck charms, and Quiapo’s fortune-tellers claim expertise in “punsoy” (the Filipino corruption of the Chinese words “feng shui,” or geomancy). The idea here is that the local Chinese all seem prosperous (a myth, actually), so you probably won’t lose anything using their good luck strategies. If the economic crisis worsens, you can expect more people to look for more of these magical antidotes.

There’s an interesting twist to all this octamania in 2008. This year’s month of August coincides with the 7th lunar month, which many Chinese consider to be inauspicious because it’s the month of hungry ghosts roaming the world, causing accidents and other misfortune. Many Chinese business people, including the ones here in the Philippines, are usually reluctant to start new businesses or invest new money during this “unlucky” month. Let’s see if the love for 8 prevails over the fear of 7.

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Email: mtan@inquirer.com.ph