Earthquake

It’s been nearly two weeks since the massive earthquake hit China, and the country is still appropriately in mourning. Much like America, China is quick to band together for nationalistic causes, and this is no exception; however unlike the blind irrational fervor raised over the Olympic torch protests, I have nothing but admiration for China’s response to this disaster.

I was at work Monday May 12, when the quake struck, but despite being over 1000 miles from the epicenter, the building I was in shook enough to cause the evacuation of our entire school for close to an hour. Personally, I didn’t feel anything, nor did any of our students, but other people in Shanghai in taller buildings said they felt an unexplained queasiness. Other than a brief inconvenience, Shanghai was unaffected.

In the week following the news covered the disaster exclusively, revealing more graphic images than I would expect. In fact, the Chinese seem to revel in these graphic images, as we have a wall of photographs from the disaster sight in our school. The aim is to raise money through fundraising, but pictures of hands reaching out from underneath piles of cement seems unfit for a school.

The following Monday thru Wednesday was declared the three national days of mourning. Concerts were cancelled and every TV station showed the same feed of news and memorial services. At my school we observed the three minutes of silence in memorial one week after the earthquake, and students still are eager to discuss the quake, yet sad when the subject is broached. To my knowledge, none of my students had families affected, and those with families nearby said nothing much happened to them, thankfully.
Yet as you may have seen in the western media, China’s response has been tremendous. Charity is new to China, so in addition to the cold efficient military, there is now the more human touch of giving and unity throughout China. Perhaps a sign of better things to come, the Chinese people are eager to help out. I can’t help but be encouraged by this generosity and I can’t help but enjoy admiring China’s response to this devastation.

Tsingtao

It’s been a little while, but not much has changed really. Life in Shanghai, much like life everywhere can fall into being routine, but that routine can also be a busy one.

The most expensive endeavor of my trip to Qingdao, as well as the most famous factory in the city, is the Tsingtao beer brewery on Beer St. The brewery is much like other breweries I’ve been to, they tell you about themselves, they tell you about their history, they tell you about how to make beer, and then they give you some. All and all, it’s a pretty good way to pass an afternoon.

Typically I do not enjoy Tsingtao beer; it’s a pilsner in the true German style (they occupied the city from 1900-1915). However I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the beer in Qingdao on tap is much better than the skuzzy bottles they have in Shanghai. Plus the beer was cheap.

At lunch before the brewery we were seated at a table with 2 other Chinese gentlemen who spoke very little English. We quickly struck up a relationship as they insisted that the bottles we were getting were inferior to their large pitchers. We took them up on their challenge for the second round and indeed the liter plus pitchers (which cost less than a dollar, oh and were bigger than the one pictured above) were superior to the green bottles. These men, pleased with their ability of persuasion, proceeded to toast us with ‘gambe’ regularly with us for the rest of the meal. When toasting in Chinese, the word ‘gambe’ translates literally to ‘finish it’ – and with us trying not to be rude, you can imagine the result. After our very cultural lunch we stumbled to the brewery.

Culture like yogurt

If there is one good thing about traveling away from Shanghai, it’s the extra kick in the pants you get to go see some culture. In Qingdao there was plenty of it (and not just at the Tsingdao Brewery!) Between the food and street performances, I got to see quite a different side of China.

The food fulfilled all of my wildest fantasies, or at least some of the ones I’ve had about good Chinese food. Once the weather got better and we were more adventurous (and less cold), we had feast after feast. There were probably 4 highlight meals, each more astounding than the last. As you’d expect being on the ocean, Qingdao had some great seafood. Though negotiating the menu was darn near impossible, pointing at different meat until we found something we liked got us some green shoots and squid fried up deliciously, with a side of spicy garlic clams. Not to be out done, that night for dinner I finally had authentic Peking duck, with a side of fried fresh shrimp and oddly delicious cabbage. To the horror of those around me, I single handedly saw to every last piece of that duck finding its way into my belly. Look how happy I am and how full that plate is… the duck was gone by the end of the meal, but the smile still remains.

We also stumbled across a wedding reception, which was great news because they had dancing dragons!!! As you can see from the clip, the dragon dancers were really athletic and knew what they were doing. Even though the crowd sometimes pulled back in horror as the flailed about in front of the bride and groom, I was rooted where I stood, unable to take my eyes off the dazzling spectacle.

Qingdao

I spent my past week in the ocean side city of Qingdao. Qingdao is famous for the three B's: Beaches, Beer (birthplace of Tsingtao beer) and Bavarian architecture (it was run by the Germans for 20 years at the turn of the last century, hence the beer). For much of our time there, the weather was cloudy and the city seemed dirty; we wondered why it was so highly touted and why we came. Then the last day the sun came out and as we strolled along its seemingly endless ocean side walk, getting a wicked awesome sunburn (its quite a feat to do in China), the city revealed all its reputed beauty.

The most 'German' thing was the old embassy, which apparently cost so much that the German Chancellor fired the local governor when he received the bill. It was a little odd walking out of dirty China into a clean, kept and old luxury home.

When the sun came out, Qingdao was as pretty an ocean side city of 2 million people you could ask for. With over 6 beaches and clean(ish) blue(ish) water, the city really is a little escape from the gigantic cities in China. By building a long ocean side park, the city is a lovely place to stroll and will only become nicer as it is slated to host the Olympic sailing events. We walked around the near complete facilities, and they certainly are pulling out all the stops. The statue pictured is a bit of modern art (China doesn't usually do good art, but I give them credit for this one).

After wondering why I'd come to a bleak, dirty city for the first few days, Qingdao turned out to be a great escape from Shanghai once the weather turned nice. Hard to believe I 'escape' to a city twice the size of Boston.

Hot Water

May I start by extolling the virtues of hot water? How many things are possible because of hot water? Tea, pasta, hot chocolate, bread and beer all require hot water to make. And we’d never have clean clothing without it. Plus who doesn’t love a good warm shower in the morning? Or snuggling up with a hot water bottle at night? I could go on, but man’s discovery that putting regular water over a flame to make it ‘hot’ is up there with the wheel. That said – I hate it.

In China, drinking hot water is not only acceptable and encouraged, but darn near mandated! One time when expressing delight that the water from the fountain was cold for a change, a co-worker suggested I mix some hot water to make it better… Make it better? How could destroying the sanctity and refreshingness of my cold, condensation causing water be an improvement? I understand this may not come as such a shock to you, especially if you’ve never faced the evils of hot water, but believe me the reality is more terrifying than you dare to imagine.

In the winter I found it appalling but eventually came to an understanding. Initially I asked how a country known for basically 5 things (tea, rice, communism, fireworks, and ping pong in some order), could fail to deliver on one of its most famous idioms – ‘all the tea in China’. If there is so much tea, why did I get a pot of hot water at the restaurant? Why couldn’t they throw a leaf or two in for some flavoring? These were hard questions, but eased over time as the pathetic ‘it costs too much money’ excuse seeped into my battered mind.

Yet as summer nears and I’m still surrounded by hot water drinkers, I shutter to think that the hottest summer I’ve experienced to date may also be my least refreshing! Of all the water coolers in our office only one delivers slightly cool water, meaning it’s a mission to get cold water. Then in stores the ‘coolers’ like you’d see at any 7-11 aren’t actually on and why should they be? It would cost money to make drinks cold and people here don’t want that anyway. I guess I’m resigned to lukewarm water until I get back to the states. At least the beers cold.

Rain

The weather the past few days has been beautiful; high seventies and sunny (or as sunny as we get here). However before this onslaught of wonderful summer Shanghai was confronted with about two straight weeks of rain! I can already hear you saying, ‘but Dan, you love rain!’ And it’s true; I love it in all forms: light rain, heavy rain, and misty rain… all fantastic. I just don’t love Shanghai rain.

When it rains here, instead of becoming mysterious like other cities do, Shanghai’s dirt and pollution are brought to the forefront of the daily experience. The inescapable feeling that this rain is somehow eating away at your skin, dissolving your watch, or could be bottled and sold as a household bathroom cleaner called ‘chock-full-o-acid’.

Crossing the streets becomes perilous, not because of the dimwitted drivers, but because like the Everglades it is a slow moving river of mud. I’ve learned not to step on the ‘white’ strips of the crosswalk because when covered in mud they are far more slippery than any winter ice I’ve encountered back home. When drainage doesn’t work properly there is a puddle of sludge eerily the same color as the ma-la-tong soup I had last night. If any of this gets on your clothes you have a 50-1 shot of becoming the 5th Ninja Turtle.

To top it off, the Chinese love umbrellas. I’ve done extensive studies and polls and discovered that nobody over six feet tall uses an umbrella because of the unknown social unrest and horror they cause – they poke us tall people in the eye!! With umbrellas every where in China (for both sunshine and rain), I hopelessly try to meander my way down the sidewalk, navigating huge umbrellas jamming the walk, ducking and dodging every last pointy end. It’s such a frustrating and maddening experience the best option is usually to just walk in the street and take my chances with Shredder.

Stumbling Blocks

Flames and Riots!! No, I’m not talking about Paris in ’68 (or 2005, or 1780 for that matter). I’m talking about the Olympic flame and Chinas brief but calculated hatred of all things French. No doubt if it were not for their own skyrocketing bread costs, the people of the PRC would have been smashing baguettes underfoot. Being a westerner I am both proud and horrified by China’s reaction. I congratulate the people on the people for organizing a boycott of Carfour (France’s Wal-Mar. I pity them really; they can’t even avoid protests in China). On the other hand, I’m horrified that people of China are grossly unprepared to enter into a discussion of world events. The people I work with are managers in global corporations (HSBC, Mitsubishi, etc), yet some suffer from a narrow mindedness that prevents any positive discussion. I’ve spoken with a few students about it (we’re very much not supposed to) and though most realize the world is big place with real problems, some don’t! Among those that don’t there are unique and different reasons than I am used to among people. They are:

‘The Truman Show’ Effect – In this movie, Jim Carrey lives in a world made for him by a ‘benevolent’ TV show director, never knowing there is a larger outside world with different ideas and opinions. People in China often end up like Jim Carrey, unaware not just of the other arguments, but unschooled in the philosophy and logic required to understand these arguments. Perhaps it is rooted deeper than the government, with the history of Chinese Philosophy vastly different from our own, but without any education in rational discourse (why study debate when there can be none?) the people are left to accept what they are told and never question it. Just like Jim Carrey.

The ‘Terrible Two’s’ Effect – At one point or another in our lives, most of us were two years old, and if psychiatry and biology have anything to say, we were probably miserable little children to be around. Two year olds are old enough to be conscious of themselves, but lack the consciousness to be fully aware of the feelings of people around them. This isn’t to say that Chinese people act like two year olds all the time, but when asked ‘are there problems in China?’ they respond with ‘my family is good, so no.’ How can one persons family be an adequate sample size for a country of a billion? When confronting a student with the issue of human rights violations in China, I’ve been told, “but the people are happy, so why not leave us alone?” It’s as if they refuse to accept that people are suffering in their country because they themselves are not suffering.

The ‘Hey, Scientology Might Be Right’ Effect – I don’t think a spaceship full of aliens blew themselves up with a bomb and that their souls inhabit human beings causing sickness and death, but I can’t prove it’s not true or convince a believer otherwise. In much the same way I cannot prove there are human rights violations, much less that the government is stifling their subjects thought development to someone who doesn’t want to believe it. The best we could do would be to agree to disagree, but just like with a Scientologist, it’s not an option.

The ‘Nationalism’ Effect – China is more nationalistic than the United States, and that is saying something! In my opinion Nationalism may be the single most devastating force in the world. Nationalism is a rallying cry and a fire starter. The people of China make no distinction between the government and themselves, meaning when the world media says, ‘China prohibits free speech, they are repressive goons’, the people see it as a personal attack on them. While teaching I asked for examples of things that could happen to someone which would make them have a bad day. One of the common responses was, “the world hates the Olympics.” When I reminded the student that doesn’t make them have a bad day the same way loosing their wallet would they chided me insisting that any slight to China is a slight to them all!

There you have it, four damaging effects on the discourse of thought in China. Perhaps someday after the government releases its grip on information we can have meaningful discussions. Until then we’ll have to deal with dumbfounded looks of distrust when the world suggest something bad happened in China in 1989.

Grind

The daily struggle to survive in a foreign country is often greater than the struggle to survive at home for a number of reasons; different language, different food, different cultural norms. I however, have encountered a different type of struggle that is wearing me down - my job has odd hours.

Beginning with my 8am alarm to make my 9am Chinese lesson and returning home around 10pm, my days often last over 14 hours before I can relax. Even when I can relax at night, I'll need to go to sleep within an hour or two of getting home, or I won't have enough energy to make it through the next day. I've discovered everyone needs 1 more hour of sleep than normal while in China (I blame the pollution for causing our bodies to slow down so much). This leaves me with almost no time to do things I enjoy on a daily basis, and my weekends are often spent catching up on sleep! It's not a life!

The sad solution is to skip my Chinese lessons in the morning, which I have been doing more and more often. I'm beginning to realize I likely won't ever become fluent and that certainly is a knock on the motivation to run my body ragged trying to learn. If I sleep in, I can have a relaxing morning, eat breakfast, and read a little bit before showing up to work at about 12:30. That's a bid difference than 9am, and I don't get to go home until my last class finishes at 9:30 either way.

I'm still learning to balance learning Chinese and having a life. It's not easy, I'd like to go to Chinese more, but in the past week I've only been once. The real problem is I need to devote even more time outside the classroom to learning, which is time I don't really have much of. Hopefully my upcoming trip to Qingdao will help me - 5 days in a beach resort town home to the most famous beer brewery in all of China. If I can't relax after that, I'm afraid there is no peace to be found anywhere in China.

TLC

With employees separated from friends and family, working odd hours in a city where the language is foreign, EF strives to find fun exciting activities to engage and reward their teachers for a job well done. The department that does this is called the Teacher Life Club, or TLC for short. Recently they held a traditional Chinese rice paper painting course, as well as a morning Tai Chi practice. Well after signing up for both, I slept through the Tai Chi (getting up at dawn is too steep a price to pay for spiritual enlightenment), I did manage to attend the painting course.

With an expert teacher who only spoke Chinese, and a translator or two, about 5 teachers including myself attempted to learn this ancient art form. We struggled to first learn a chicken, which looked nothing like a chicken until we added feet, who knew they were so important? Then we learned the art of painting bamboo, a skill our master had crafted over the past 40 years. Whenever our master wasn't happy with our work, instead of explaining our errors to us, which was linguistically impossible, he would forcefully, yet gently, grab our hands still holding our brushes and guide our strokes. Though far from being an expert, I'd say my work isn't half bad; and after seeing the creation of my own hands, I don't think I'll need to buy any bamboo paintings now.

Some of the events they will be offering in the future include concerts, day trips to nearby cities and more Tai Chi. Its a great (free) way to experience some of the Chinese culture I miss by living in Shanghai and speaking English while hanging out with Westerners mostly.

Another picture from Suzou, this is the ancient gate to the city. It was unclear if it was rebuilt or is still the original, I'm going to assume it, like most things in China, is not original. These pictures of Suzou don't really capture what the city looks like today however. Suzou suffered more than most cities in the 'Great Leap Forward', with many of the old estate homes and narrow streets and canals turned into generic any city bland commercial centers. Its quite tragic because Suzou, while not a naturally beautiful city, seems to have once been a beautiful city through the efforts of its inhabitants.

Blue jeans, zip-up hoodie, faded baseball cap and a Coca-Cola

I am closer to Daivd Beckham than I've ever been before - I know what it feels like to be an international super-star. As I cruise the streets of Shanghai I usually get a glance here or there. I am after all, one of less than a few hundred thousand westerners in a country of more than a billion. But when I walked the streets of Suzou you'd have though it was Brad Pitt himself walking the street with the number of heads that turned. Dan was the center of attention, where ever he went.

People were obsessed with looking at me, taking pictures of me, having their kids speak to me. Aside from the numerous not so subtle photos taken of me as I passed on the street or through the temple, one man even asked to have his picture taken with me, as though I was a noteworthy person to show his friends that he met. Mothers brought children outside, prodding them to say 'nye' which we took to be a halfway point between 'hi' and 'ni hao'. With my new found knowledge of Chinese I could hear everyone talking about 'the American man' as I walked past them. While waiting for my train home in the train station, a group of 12 men, full grown men, gathered around me to watch me look at my pictures. I was the village celibrity.

My travel partner was a girl from England, and whenever we separated, nobody paid any attention to her, but continued focus solely on me. It wasn't until we realized this that we were able to pinpoint the true essence of why I was so popular: the baseball cap. Nobody wears a baseball hat like an American, its our passion, our pastime.

Perhaps more than any other nationality, the 'American' uniform is easily identified - blue jeans, zip-up hoodie, faded baseball cap and a Coca-Cola in hand. I fit into the ideal for the good American stereotype (not the shorts, socks and sneakers with a Hawaiian shirt and giant camera around my neck stereotype... no sir not me). If you ever want to wonder what its like to have the paparazzi follow you, doff a baseball cap on your head and head to Suzou; I bet Brad Pitt doesn't get half the looks.