CONTRADICTION: Urban and rural

In a courtyard garden hidden between new-built art deco skyscrapers, a group of 3 old women sit on a concrete abutment screaming at each other. If you were standing on the other side of the 10-foot wall forming the other side of the yard, you wouldn't be able to see the ladies, but you could certainly hear them, and might wonder when the cops would be called to break up a fight. But there are smiles all around. One lady with short, permy gray hair makes an amazingly quick move that seems decades younger than her years, shoving her conversation partner forcefully. Nearly tumbling off her seat, her buddy regains herself and takes a swing back at the perpetrator.

There is a timelessness about the exchange: people enjoying each others' company, gossiping, soaking in sunlight which does get through the clouds sometimes here in Beijing. This is a scene that has happened every day in China all over the place, for thousands of years. Surrounded by supermarkets, malls, movie theaters, and Starbucks, it seems that most people--especially older folks and families--keep some kind of routine that feels like it has been ingrained here since antiquity. Sitting under a tree together, chatting in the park. Taking a stroll around the block after dinner. Practicing taiqi in the courtyard, late at night once the city is calm. As many Ferraris, Bugattis, and Rolls Royces as you see stteaming down the avenues, it cannot take away from the undercurrent you get than this place is so, so old, with ways of doing things as ancient as the Wall.

A friend visited here some time ago, it was his first trip ever to mainland China. I asked him what was his strongest impression, just several hours after getting off the plane. Despite all the KFCs, McDonalds, luxury brands, and news reports about China's economic explosion, the proximity people maintained to a rural way of living is immediately palpable. "Not just the way people dress, but the way people walk, the way the look at one another.." Like you're in the middle of a village in the midst of a city. There are downsides, but in Beijing there's a village's warmth and a rawness, a realness to the lifestyle here that you simply don't get in the developing world.

CONTRADICTION: Foreigner feelings

Dudes in Chinese gyms go pretty hard, but none go harder than the oldest guys. It's literally the 60-70 year old bracket that I see constantly pushing sets to failure, sweating their brains out, and really letting out some noise when pushing out their reps. Oddly, when lifting weights, there is little or no spotting (I've often considered why: face? concerns about manliness? just unaware of the practice? there are coaches walking around the gym but don't seem to help out unless they are getting paid for 1-on-1 training). I needed a spot and called her over to help me in case I was going to drop the bar on my head. As I was doing the set and giving some instruction, a couple of guys who were there working out together were looking on, seeing what this spotting thing was all about. It seemed like having a girl being the one giving the spot was of special interest. Although they had been working out for a half-hour on the bench press and other exercises, neither one of them had been watching out for the other; right after we were done, they waited for us to walk away to change weights and gave spotting a try. Within a half-hour, I saw 3 other sets of people helping themselves with spots on other benches.

It's cool and fun to see this kind of knowledge dispersed in real time. I don't know if "knowledge dispersal" is even the right term. Maybe these dudes already knew about spotting, and seeing two foreign people do it gave it the imprimateur of, "OK, I guess this spotting idea is legit" or "oh, that's how you spot someone." You take for granted the Phys Ed classes in middle school where most American kids learn about this stuff, about how to lead not only a healthy lifestyle but also how to exercise properly and effectively. China is developing so fast, and the involvement of foreigners isn't important just for building English skills, taking international technology, or the other stuff you see in the news. There are just so many "best practices" in so many areas of life in China where there is room for sharing--for education and exchange. And there is a genuine respect, appreciation, excitement among folks here to learn more about other cultures.

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It is often observed that there is not a lot of love lost between China and Japan. Politically, right now the two countries are at odds over a number of issues: Diaoyu/Senkaku Islands, Japan's prime minister visiting WWII shrines commemorating war criminals. On an individual basis, people are people, and many locals I know have great friendships with Japanese expats here in Beijing. I think there is a difference between urban China and rural China, where less exposure to foreigners as real people means that people are more susceptible to influence from movies and TV. And Chinese CCTV certainly does not help to quell any negative feelings. From Murong Xuecun in NYT yesterday:

The state prohibits content that “incites ethnic hatred,” yet according to Southern Weekly more than 70 anti-Japanese TV series were screened in China in 2012. And in March 2013 the newspaper reported that 48 anti-Japanese-themed TV series were being shot simultaneously in Hengdian World Studios, a film studio in Zhejiang Province, in eastern China.

There is no doubt that anti-foreign nationalism is a key component of how the CCP has chosen to define Chineseness--which is weird, given the myriad ways Chinese people I see in Beijing both respect and seek out foreigners as friends, sometimes primarily for practical purposes like English learning, but many times simply because they're curious. That the government has chosen to define a group of people not for what they are, but for what they are not--"we are not Japan, we are not the West"--leads to the confusion behind what Jonathan Spence calls "the search for modern China." Negative definitions of things don't really lend any clarity to a thing's true nature. It's kind of like Boston Red Sox culture--there is none. The Yankees all shave? We'll have handlebar mustaches. They're elitist snobs? Red Sox are dudes of the people. It's not "Red Sox culture," it's "not-Yankees culture." As China culturally and politically regains some confidence lost during the "100 years of humiliation," it will be interesting to see if so much anti-foreign nationalism remains in politics.

Math is fun (i.e. easier)

In an attempt at a 'practical English' lesson the other day we talked about how to say 'math sentences' e.g. "124+235=359" When I tried to figure out the sum in class by stacking the numbers and doing 'long addition' my 8-year old Chinese students yelled at me. "That takes too long!" I asked confusedly how they would suggest I speed up. They wrote out the numbers horizontally, instructing on how to add from left to right, albeit in broken English: "Add the number 3 numbers first..."

I fee like I have a veil lifted: working from left to right, rather than right to left, and with the sums displayed horizontally is actually waaay faster. Why don't we learn math this way in US elementary school??

Hangin' out

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning, I rush to the gym around opening to fight for a spot at the bench press and Gravitron. My rivals are older men and women who could be my grandparents. The older ladies are generally taking it easy, but it is incredible to see how hard many of the older men are going after it. A few of these dudes are huge, but most are there, apparently, to keep the qi moving and maybe to get a bit of a sweat on. Very few show any awareness of weight room etiquette from Western gyms: toweling off the bench after use, replacing weights when repping in on a machine, moving quickly through an exercise if you see someone is waiting. Not really a big deal, though, because as soon as you ask to jump in on a machine folks generally either hurry along to their next routine or let you jump in. The trainers are attentive to clients misusing machines--letting weights crash, pushing on levers meant to be pulled--in all instances where things that cost money could get broken.

One, who we call Mr. Clean, is usually pumping iron and is very outspoken, leading the locker-room banter going back and forth across the mirrored room. He is a good dude, more courteous than mostAt least when I'm around, it seems like the conversation swings to talk of America or the West in comparison to China: NBA vs CBA, clothing, money. Most comments have nothing to do with me directly, but I do become the topic of analysis occasionally, particularly as I'm trying to force out the last rep of a set and am making some excruciating face or emitting some kind of gross sound. Feels good to be a celebrity--just wish it wasn't for my bitter-beer bench press face.

Perception is reality

Caught this on the wall of my gym earlier today. One of our trainers sitting on a press with a huge rack of weights pushing up apparently with a lot of exertion.. except none of the weight is actually on the bar.

Most Chinese-y thing I did this week

I took the plunge two years ago and bought a motorbike. Taking cabs back and forth from work was really taking a toll, so despite the clear safety concerns, I reasoned with myself I'd save a lot of money, life and limb be damned.

And save money I have. It was super-easy getting a bike. Cost is about 3,000 RMB for a new 150 cc moped, more then enough pep to get around anywhere (even out to the suburbs, as we experimented with a month or so ago). Gas costs about 35 rmb for fill-up, getting me about 150 km per tank--dooope! License and registration? Although I finagled mine through a shady dude I met through the bike dealer, you can now get your "blue book" (registration) and even plates through Taobao.

What I was not expecting was the way Beijing manages to control and discourage gas-powered bike riders--at the pump. I quickly discovered which gas stations around my home are a bit lax on the government's requirement to show registration and driver's license every time you gas up your motorbike (a regulation that, amazingly, isn't something required for car drivers). From time to time--at rush hour, lunchtime, and during important political conferences in Beijing--gas is especially hard to come by.

We are now in the midst of the aftermath of the Third Plenum, one of Xi Jinping's first shots at displaying the extent of his consolidation of power by outlining the extent of the reforms he and the Politburo are cooking up. It's what they call in China a "sensitive" time, which to your guy on the street basically amounts to some laws that are usually not enforced being enforced for a limited period of time, as a public security measure supposed to clamp down on any possible unrest or chicanery.

At my first stop for gas, a younger employee (first bad sign: more inclined to be performing his job correctly, to "play it by the book") who I had never seen before  (second bad sign: not inclined to give me a break as he's probably never seen me get gas from a more relaxed colleague) asked for my driver's license. Typical response: "I left it at home" (whereas "I don't have one" will definitely get you denied, some guys will let you by with even a horrible excuse for not producing the right documents). I get blown off: "You have to have your driver's license--look at the rules board over there!" I looked over at the rules board I've driven by 76 times as I gassed up at this same station in previous weeks, months, years. "Sure you can't help me out, buddy?" "Nope."

Off I went up to my mainstay: a place in central Wangjing that even during the 18th Party Congress (another particularly annoying "sensitive" time, as it lasted for weeks, throwing travel plans totally out of whack) let me have a tank. An older guy (first good sign) who I had seen before (second good sign) told me to pull up to the pump ahead. Looking at my bike and the plates stored in my glovebox, he quietly noted "Display them." Hmm? "Display them. They have to be on the outside." I kneeled down to attach the plates onto the rear fender of the bike at the pump and got yelled at: "Not here!" "Then where?" I asked. "Over there!" he said, pointing to a parking space right next to the gas station entrance.

I pushed Ysobelle (what I've taken to calling my moped) over to the parking spot and realized I had nothing with which to attach the plates. Nothing in the glove box except a ragged sandwich bag I use to hold my plates and registration. Carefully ripping the bag into a long plastic strip, I placed the license plate on the rear fender right above the reflector, and tied it on using the plastic bag-turned-rubber band. Pushing the bike back up to the pump, I turned to see a security guard from the hotel next to the station and jumped a bit, until I saw the smile beaming across his face. A smile that said.. I don't know what it said, but he approved of the jerry-rigging.

7 things you learn about the non-China world while living in China

- A well-ordered traffic system isn't as important as you might think. Oddly, one of the things that scared me the most about the more recent Die Hard where Timothy Oliphant organizes a fire sale is that--oh man!--the traffics lights would all be screwed up. Then you come to Asia and see that, despite traffic lights working most of the time, people don't really care about them and a surprisingly number of people aren't dying because of this (at least by my last count).

- Parenting skills are not innate. You take for granted that, despite also carrying on some of the baggage from the generation before, your parents are utilizing a set of skills and knowledge in raising you than Among more affluent families China is still coming up the curve in areas like, especially during Spring Festival, not letting children play with high explosives.

 - "Hot mess" is also a business model. Constant change leads to constant preparation for opportunities that present themselves every day. Oftentimes, we develop services that we're selling before most folks inside our shop even know this is something our company does. Once we have customers, then everyone plays catch-up. It's a fun, if not ulcer-inducing model. If I had a nickel for the number of times, on 3 minutes' notice, I've been told I'm going to do something I could not have fathomed doing before that moment... New arrivals at our organization are constantly blown away by how quickly situations change and how one has to adapt on the fly. Those that cannot don't last long.

- Fashion makes absolutely no sense. The English-gibberish tshirts sported by young people in Beijing are silly--but are they more silly than paying $125 for a hooded sweatshirt because it says the word "Hollister" on it? "But the quality is excellent..." Not that excellent. As I've heard from a lady, there is something about Asian women that sometimes enables more aggressive fashion choices to work out well for them. As some folks from Shanghai will observe, Beijingers dress a bit like they just grabbed whatever was closest in a pitch-black closet that morning and ran out the door. What's more amazing than dressing like this is that sometimes it leads to outfits that, to fashionable people, "make sense." (So I've heard.) Don't get it.

- Weird food is relative. You're teaching the terms "often, sometimes" and "never" in a class about food. In asking about "foods you often eat," student flatly responds: "doves." More interesting than the student's response is how unfazed you are with their constant dining on the international symbol of peace: you just had one last month in Shenyang. at a curbside dove joint where the wait staff would twist their heads off in front of you (proof of freshness) and grill them up chuanr-style. Could have had a shot of blood on the side. You passed.. Maybe weird food isn't relative.

- We're all just animals. You can't help but realize this when you see how unapologetically open people are about spitting, farting, urinating, and defecating in public or semi-public. In the elevator today an otherwise coy and unassuming woman let go of a sharp, short burp that made me jump. Better out than in, I suppose. Just as the book title says, "everybody poops." Everybody also does everything else that involves expelling body gasses, liquids, and other semi-solids.

- Economics trumps politics. The residue of the Cold War, the lingering sense of a great Communist menace that many think they perceive (particularly in the US) is absolute horsewash. China is more rabidly free-market capitalist than the US was even in the days of the robber barons. Ever since Deng Xiaoping proclaimed, "To get rich is glorious," China has been a place where the "honor's in the dollar." Many politicians get into the game, not because of the power and influence they yield (usually not much), but because the chances for kickbacks and bribes that occur at different bureaucratic bottlenecks.

People watching

The chairs in the cafes, bars, and restaurants in HCMC are oriented toward the sidewalk and street, just like you would see in a Parisian cafe on the Champs Elysee. There's certainly no shortage of people watching opportunities here, like there is in France. Streams of moped riders cruise down the streets endlessly--we're told that, in a city of 10M people. there's 7M bikes, more than 1 for every adult. Collisions between riders are inevitable. We say a bad crash in the middle of a monsoon rainstorm the other day; someone rushed off the sidewalk to help, there was an exchange of words and both riders drove off. We didn't see any money change hands.

I'm looking out onto our small lane while writing this post. Meagan just walked by on her way back from some shopping, buying postcards to send back to friends and family stateside. As much as the cafes are arranged in the French way, enabling chats about the folks you see walking by, more than anything we see both locals and backpackers buried in their 3Gs, rarely having conversation even with the person sitting right next to them. Guess I'm one to judge, typing away here at my computer in the hostel dining room. It's a sad state of affairs when, as cool as the technology is, the Facebook Mobile post about the experience becomes more pressing than really taking the moment in.

Shanghai vs Beijing

Just got back form Shanghai after their Mid-Autumn hockey tournament. Beijing's team went 2-3-1, I was only able to compete in 2 of 6 games because of work conflicts. As striking as the hockey were a couple other things I observed about Shanghai (this is my first stay of more than 20 hours despite having been in China for over 5 years):

1) Way more cosmopolitan. Aside from the city skyline, layout, As I've had it put by some female friends in Beijing, it sometimes seems as if local ladies here choose outfits by turning the lights off and grabbing whatever the touch first in their closets. Shanghainese seemed a bit more fashion-forward in such a way that they were playing with trends and designs in a more self-conscious way, as opposed to the bizarre mimicky stuff you see in north China.

2) Better service culture. Waitstaff at restaurants were generally much better trained, more attentive, and had better English than what you see on average in Beijing.

3) More coins used in change. I got a lot more 1 yuan coins than 1 yuan notes in Shanghai. I definitely find the 1 yuan notes annoying, but not as annoying (or destructive to the material in your pants pocket) as a sackful of metal coins I had to lug around.

4) Tips seem expected, from foreigners at least. Whereas in Beijing you would get 1 cabbie in 12-15 who would not give you back full change down the 1 RMB on your cab fare, 3 or 3 Shanghai cabbies I met did not return the 1-2 RMB extra change, then seemed irked when I requested all my change back. Guess this is a result of longer history of Americans/foreigners in Shanghai and increased tourist numbers?

5) Bit less picky about ID-related stuff. Whereas I was almost turned away at the turnstile in Beijing when I could not produce my original passport (I had a color scanned copy), they didn't bat an eye at the train station in Shanghai... however I was turned away at the hotel when I couldn't produce an original passport.

Most Chinese-y thing I did this week

We're supposed to pay our ayi by the last day each month--at least, that's the tradition we've gotten into, which is as good as a law in China. About a month ago, she asked for a raise, mentioning how the cost of living in Beijing is getting higher, and how long she's been working for us. In a letter I left for her to read, I responded that I wasn't aware that time alone necessitates a raise; rather, increase in quality of work over time is something that seems more raise-worthy. I mentioned several areas in which she was slacking, and the following week she wrote back her apologies and conceded the point. I am waiting, however, for the sabotage that is surely being plotted.. subtle sabotage: socks go missing a bit more regularly, weird marks or tears in favorite shirts, etc.

Last week, sitting on the table instead of money, I accidentally left her a bag of week-old defrosted chicken meat. Totally accidental--in running out the door, I spaced and just left the chicken I was meaning to throw out sitting there.. festering. By the time she came in to clean later that day, it must have reeked. Needless to say, it was still sitting there when we got back in the evening, REALLY festering at that point. It's moments like these in Chinese relationships, where a faux pas has been committed and something needs to be done to restore balance to a relationship.

Typically, I would have opted for money. Decent cure-all idea, and something she might have expected, after leaving the chicken there on the table defiantly. Money can be complicated as it leads to expectations about raises. Instead, I went the curry-favor-through-not-so-random-act-of-kindness route, involving an investment of money but more so some thought and in-kind reparations. At the shop today, I purchased a bag of nice jet-fresh mangoes, and deliberately left the weight and price on the bag. Classic Chinese move, people usually don't even try to pretend they forgot to take the tag off; neither did I. To boot, I threw in some Arizona iced tea, an American import and a personal favorite that I fumbled my way through describing as "one of southeast America's favorite summertime beverages." She seemed happy enough, and accepted with a kind of half-refusal--different from the usual 2 to 3 refusals you're offered when folks are actually being polite. Talk of the chicken did not come up. I'm hoping that the case is now closed, and that she's no longer secretly grinding up glass and putting it into our muesli...

First Nations

In attending to HR duties here at work it's interesting reading through names of all the towns in Canada where you can find talented early childhood educators: Mississauga, Moose Jaw, Chilliwack, Penticton, Halifax... just some solid, strong town names here. Lots of choppy consonants and hard stops, in languages that I wish I knew but that you could only hope to learn today at a small college on a reservation. It's funny to see the terms for these town names and consider the heaps of humanity that call each of them home--from the teachers we're looking for to those now fast asleep, but maybe planning on playing frisbee in the park or going deep-sea fishing as soon as the sun comes up tomorrow. The world is such a huge place with so many people, but in hiring teachers and interacting with them once they arrive, you always get something different.. but you always kind of get something the same. Guess that might be the effect of interacting with someone with the same cultural background in the midst of a vast and ancient alien society.

Calm within the storm

Sprezzatura, a kind of "studied nonchalance," was described in the 16th century by Castiglione as the unique way that courtiers--gentlemen--go about life with a kind of ease that conceals the difficulty of things. I've written before about this kind of nonchalance and how it seems in harmony with the "unflappable" way that many Chinese folks appear to go about their day. But sprezzatura is supposed to denote the easy way people go about difficult tasks. People here, instead, seem to have an easy way they go about encountering near death experiences by car, bicycle, subway, or bus like 15 times every day. Instead of sprezzatura, perhaps the best way of relating this is more as a "calm within the storm." In the incredible hustle and bustle, noise and frenzy of everyday Beijing, there is a kind of serenity and practiced deliberateness that characterizes the local approach. It could be that everyone is just in shock. Or it could be that thousands of years of a deliberately-paced existence is not so soon cast off with migration into the city.