CONTRADICTION: Gaining face by losing it

You'll often hear, on getting to China on business, that drinking culture here is a bit different. As it's put by some: "it's good to puke." Overindulging at a client dinner shows new friends that you are willing to hold nothing back in dealing with them, that you're "letting it all hang out" and are able to let them "have something on you." In other words, by losing face, you gain friendship and can form guanxi.

I have been getting back into basketball these days. The realtor who is trying to sell the apartment I'm living in (for my landlord, not for me) was adamant that I come to the 6:30am game in Taiyanggoing park, down the street, to hang out and 锻炼身体, "work out, exercise your body"--and to help them practice their English, which I'm happy to do. When I first got to China, I played basketball on the college campus where I worked. I certainly got worked out. Inspired by the moves of Russell Westbrook and Kobe Bryant, and generally with no previous formal coaching, recreational Chinese ballplayers have an out-of-control style that led to my having no less than 3 bloody noses and a handful of bruises my first month on the court. This danger was exacerbated by the fact that I myself am totally out of control and am still trying as hard as I was in 7th grade to move gracefully walking down a sidewalk much less driving down the lane. In an effort to reinvigorate my spoken Chinese, get a workout, and have some fun, I decided to give basketball in China another shot and join the daily game down at the park. I've gone twice now, and while I've not shared some baijiu with the fellas (yet), I've built up a respectful, friendly relationship with some of them.

Today, setting up shop down in the post, I was being d'ed up by one of the bigger guys--one with a Fresh Prince-style flattop hairdo that generally is associated with military types, according to the dictionary of Chinese hairdos. The dude is actually way nicer than his hair would let on, and we were playing each other with the right kind of competitiveness, contesting shots cleanly and playing pretty closely. At this particular moment, gassed after about 20 minutes running around a half-court, I pushed off with my back to gain some separation for a turnaround, and nothing was there. I stumbled into the air and did a backwards somersault on the concrete, as I went down hearing the rising "oooooOOHH" of the guys on the court and the dudes playing pingpong next door. Just total amateur hour. After popping up with a smile--unhurt, but with my 面子 mianzi, or "face," flung out the window and screaming as it fell to the ground--I was helped up and high-fived as I jumped back on the court. After the game, chatting amiably, it felt genuinely friendly, like a gap had been bridged. I had "gracefully" embarrassed myself, let it all hang out, but shown myself capable of having a good time. In the West or in China, that's what life is all about, isn't it?

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...