Whistle Power

As the world economic crises thickens, countries around the globe are searching for ways to get people off the street and into jobs. Like the United States, China has launched it's own initiative to provide work for the excess of 20 million men, women and children recently laid off from factories and other jobs. One solution the government had was to put crossing guards, armed with whistles, at ever intersection between my house and the subway with express intentions to piss me off.

I appreciate that these men have jobs, and congratulations to the government for providing for them. It's just that... well, I can't stand them. Stationed 4 to an intersection, these reflective-vest-wearing state employees were given whistles and instructions not to let anyone set foot off the curb if they don't have a green walk signal. Why is the government targeting a crackdown on the ever dangerous jay-walking when none of the vehicles seem concerned for the rules makes me wonder if the police are treating the paper cut because the knife wound looked too daunting.

Or maybe I'm just bitter. These men have no tact, manners or soul. Last week, having absent mindedly taken 2 steps off the curb while waiting for the light to change, the nearest whistle bearer came running over, whistle shrieking at full tilt until he was 5 feet away and continued to lay on the noise until I'd retreated the yard back to the curb. Not to be cliche, but I've never seen so little power go to someone's head. The overreaction to the offense seems vastly disproportional, but then again... isn't China known for over reactions and power going to peoples heads?

Not that I wish these people didn't have jobs, nor am I unhappy that China is at least trying to enforce a rule - for a change, and nor is my life vastly effected by this change (I now patiently wait on the curb and watch in astonishment at the vast number of startled offenders whistled off the crosswalk). What dismays me is the attitude of these men. My story above isn't an isolated experience, I've witnessed dozens of others befall the same screeching fate in the past few days. But in a country better known for authoritarianism than humanitarianism, perhaps it isn't surprising that pedestrians are treated like misbehaving dogs.

Paper Plates

In an effort to keep western traditions and to ensure human interaction, my girlfriend and her roommate threw a brunch this past weekend at their apartment; I was to be employed as official egg maker (a task which I feel I satisfactorily completed). This brunch, attended by about 15 people ranging from the age of 2 to 30 something (a married couple brought their child), was a veritable smorgasbord of food - eggs and bacon, waffles, Dunkin Donuts, home-made hummus and vegetables, chips and salsa, pate and sushi. If that isn't an international spread, I don't know what is. Enjoyable as the brunch was (with the cleaning up was not so much), the more humerus incident happened the night before.

We had ventured to the Carrefour near my girlfriends apartment to buy supplies - eggs, bacon, utensils, etc. After securing all the edible needs, we proceeded to hunt around the bottom level of the store for the paper goods, including paper plates which were curiously hidden from us. After 5 minutes of hunting on our own near the disposable silverware, paper cups and bowls, we got smart and asked one of the workers where we could find paper plates. Her response: "We don't have any because there isn't an event [or holiday] this month, come back next month."

The sheer Chinese-ness of the response is beautiful. While completely illogical (what do you mean no events? My brunch isn't an event?), it has a screwball grain of thought behind it (most people wouldn't be buying them, so you shouldn't either). How a store which carries over 30 varieties and brands of green tee (they have a green tea isle, where no black, herbal or medicinal tea is sold), can not carry any paper plates is still a mystery to me. But then again, so still is most of the culture here.

Of Birds and Men

In the past two days I saw two interesting bird events. Something as simple as the relationship between men and birds can seem so different in different cultures, and I don't just mean the dishes we put them in. Birds here usually are for eating, but sometimes, just sometimes for pleasure.

I saw a collection of white pigeons in the park the other day. While this may not seem like a revolutionary observation, the more I think about it the more interesting it becomes. Pigeons of any sort are rare in Shanghai. I tend to think they're all eaten by the locals (hence the number of pigeon dishes in the restaurants) but I have no proof. Instead, these birds are clearly government sanctioned, complete with ankle tags and a seed-selling vendor nearby: These are show birds, which may explain why they're white. Most pigeons I've seen are a mix of black and grey, with the occasionally albino thrown in, but this group was all white. I guess they just looked cleaner, I can't think of any other reason. It also mystifies me because when I show my students pictures of doves they always call them pigeons. I can't help but wonder about the unique pack of strange white pigeons in a city devoid of free birds.

But this pales in comparison to what I saw yesterday - a man walking his bird. The man carried a cage alongside him, while his small black bird flew in a zig zag patter across the path in front of him, pausing each time to make sure his master was still with him. This bird, untethered as far as I could see, flew alongside his master up the path and onto the steps to their apartment. At this point, the man bent over, opened the cage door and the bird hopped inside. I couldn't scarcely believe it. I've heard of birds with loyalty to their masters, and seen it in movies, but to see a bird act like a dog was a totally new experience. I love it.

A word on Hope

Hope. A word we've heard more of this year than we have in long time. President Obama has given us a cause to hope again, yet the feeling still seems generally foreign and forgotten. It's an emotion our society doesn't speak about in earnest much these days, preferring to retreat to the scepticism and pessimism instilled in us from abundant heartbreak in our past. This pessimism inflicts our thoughts - we don't trust the kindness of strangers on the street, and our dreams for the future - we all still hope the world gets better, but are far from certain that it will. Honest to goodness Hope is in short supply.

The other emotions get more face time; joy for example sees its fair share. And although joy would seem to be the opposite side of the coin from hope, hope realized if you will, I've seen much more joy than childlike hope in the past decade - at weddings, graduations, parties and whatnot. So where is the hope?

We have holidays for love (Valentine's Day), holidays for fright (Halloween). We have holidays for luck (St. Patrick's Day), for patriotism (Independence Day), and even holidays for reasons we don't really remember (Cinco de Mayo). Christmas was once a day, a season, of hope, but now it's shed that image to mean more in some ways, less in others. But I wouldn't say Christmas is a time we're filled with hope. New Year's could be a day of hope, but generally we chose to look back, not forward. So why isn't there a holiday of hope? I say there is. And it's today.

If there ever were a day which represented hope - unchecked, wild and delirious hope it is today: Pitchers and Catchers Report to Spring Training. Hope Abounds.

The Dissapearing Man

China is different. I'm not the same either, but China's different. And not from when I left in December, at least not as far as I can tell, but I finally deduce a difference. The loudspeakers men are gone.

When I first came to China there was a humorous (if unnerving) phenomenon where men would ride bicycles in slow motion through residential areas and around housing complexes with loudspeakers blaring a man's voice shouting in Chinese. For a long time I had no idea why this was or what it was for. I suspected it was communist propaganda being spilled constantly onto the minds of the unsuspecting citizens. The information saturation was complete and total, and even more invasive than I could have imagined. Fortunately, this wasn't the case. The truth is the men are advertising their interest in purchasing old refrigerators, air conditioners, appliances, etc. Not nearly as exciting or juicy as propaganda, but much more sensible.

But now these men are gone. Was a law passed banning this activity? Is the economy hurting that bad? Did they buy each and every old appliance in the city already? I don't know and probably never will. All I know is the men with the loudspeakers (the men who let me imagination run wild), are gone.

Where have all the dumplings gone?

Anyone who asked me what I was looking forward to back in China while I was home got pretty much one of two responses - my girlfriend and the food. I've blogged here numerous times about my love of meals - noodles, dumplings, Peking Duck. Which is why the reverse-reverse-culture shock is so terrible now - I cannot find good food!

Over the holidays at home restaurants close, some might even be closed for a week, heaven forbid! It's a fact of life we can all accept. But what happens in China is both shocking and terrifying - restaurants close for a month!

Since I arrived the week before the Spring Festival, all my favorite little dodgy restaurants - the ones I was looking forward to most, have been closed. That means were going on 3 weeks now of no greasy kung-pow chicken, no authentic sweet-n-sour pork, even Noodles is still closed (on an unrelated note, I've moved back into the neighborhood where Noodles the restaurant is located, so joy and delectable noodles will soon rain upon me eventually, just not yet). How torturous is it to look forward to something so simple, so ubiquitous as food from cheap dodgy restaurants in China, only to have it snatched away by the great Spring Festival?

I understand they're family restaurants, and that everyone has returned to the countryside to be with their families. I understand that this long trip can only be taken once a year, so why not make it count. I understand all this, but as a sad little westerner in Shanghai, I miss the food!