China Segment

I haven’t been able to access my website from in China for about 2 weeks now.  It’s probably part of the clamp down on all things to do with China and ‘public security’ over the last few months.  From visa restrictions to arrests of dissidents, China’s shoring up all possible avenues of potential Olympic Spoilers.  It’s not like China Segment is some hotbed of anti-China sentiment.  Frankly, I love China and I’m blessed to be living here.  So why is my website blocked when other more prominent blogs are still accessible?

I hate to say it, but many of the foreign workers in China are not too happy about the Olympics coming here; it’s making life a lot more difficult than it used to be.  I for one am still happy to see the Games in China - but I’m hoping things get back to ‘normal’ afterwards.

Feds

China’s gone a little bit overboard with tertiary education. Parents from all walks of life want their kids to go to university, and the schools have responded with an ever-expanding list of degree programs to answer the need. Not good with numbers? Try a degree program in Flight Attendant Services. Don’t care much for history texts? Get yourself enrolled in the Television Host program. There are countless other, all worthy of raised eyebrows.

Seriously, we need degree programs for serving drinks at 30,000 feet? And, correct me if I’m wrong, but I doubt Johnny Carson ever had formal training in ‘hosting.’ Seems to me that university degrees are needed for everything these days. Are we really learning anything at school that we couldn’t have learned in 5 days on the job?

Up next for Tsinghua University: Crop Circling and Setting Up Fake-Goods Markets.

Feds

Squatting is a rather ingrained habit among many people in China. Go out into the countryside and you’re guaranteed to see people squatting by the roadside, watching the world pass them by.

But in the uber cities of modern China, many of the migrant people from the countryside retain their ways – spitting, rolling up their shirts in hot weather, public urination, and yes, squatting. Whether in train stations, subway trains, on the sidewalk or in public squares, the squat is the way to people watch for the urban-lifestyle challenged. The gentleman in the picture above was obviously concerned his call might turn out to be a long one, so how better to remain comfortable than to pop a squat?

But is it really more comfortable? I myself am quite used to standing or sitting in chair, but perhaps there is something to this squatting. After all, many argue that squatter ‘slide it out’ style toilets are healthier than our Western ‘sit up and push’ style potties.And by the way, for those of you coming here for the Olympics, squatter toilets have been installed at many of the venues in Beijing. You’ll certainly be getting yourself a real taste of culture. Better bring the wet wipes if you’re not used to sittin’ on your heels.

Another factor pointing either to comfort or habit or both is that even many chairs in China are so short that your body is positioned as if you’re squatting.To be truthful, I’ve never seen said chairs in offices – imagine a person squatting in front of a computer – we’d need shorter tables! But look in the many small shops selling clothes or stationary and you’ll find one or two.I’ve tried them out and it’s just like riding a 3 year olds’ tricycle with your knees touching your ears. Old habits die hard, and squatting doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere anytime soon.  They’re probably all wondering what we’re doing standing when we could be sitting or squatting.

Heck if I know.

Feds

[got a great pic to insert here but I’m currently circumventing a block on my site through a third party so it looks like picture uploads won’t be possible]

Known as a Buddhist nation for centuries and having mix of Taoism, Buddhism, Islam and other religions unique in the world, China suddenly took a turn for atheism in 1949.

These days as the ideology of Communism fades, Buddhism and other religions are staging gradual comebacks, though they are still hampered by barriers and discrimination. It is mostly the older generations that are gravitating back to the old ways that they remember practicing as kids.

There are still a bevy of Buddhist sites in China, particularly in cities like Lanzhou, Luoyang and Lhasa, and sites like the Dunhuang Caves of Gansu and the Big Buddha of Leshan.

Here in Shanghai the two best places to go for a taste of Buddhist life are the Jade Buddha Temple up in Northern Jing’an and Longhua Temple in the southern tip of Xuhui. Both are far superior to Jing’an Temple, which is not much beyond a facade.

There is still a long way to go however. Last time I was in Hong Kong I went to a temple up in Kowloon and was blown away by the devotion and spirituality of the people worshiping there. In fact, the lack of spirituality in the mainland is something that gets to me. I find there is a real void and that I’m affected by it. I notice it more since I’ve been to Egypt (Islam), Bali (Hinduism) and HK (Buddhism and Christianity) on vacations in the last year and a half. Just the range of beliefs, practices and commitment were awe inspiring for both myself and my wife coming from Shanghai, where there are some religious people, but mostly a pervasive, all-consuming consumerism. There is precious little time for religion here, and most of what the older generations knew and practiced were wiped out in the 60s. Those born after 1980 have little concept of it, but as more of them are starting to taste success and achieve material comforts, I believe they will start to look for the answers to the questions that money, homes and cars cannot answer, filler for the voids that cannot be plugged by RMB.

One more note. Hong Kong largely smells like incense - it is literally everywhere (mostly covering up the smells of seaweed and dried fish) - while Shanghai often smells… well, I really shouldn’t say but I will. It begins with the garbage that’s emptied out on to the streets by those looking for scrap metal, cardboard, or plastic bottles to sell, and ends with those urinating in the nooks and crannies of the city streets. A little incense to cover that up would be nice. More Buddhists, please!

Feds

One of the most popular streets for shopping and gawking is Huaihai Road. From around Xiangyang Road, at the site of the old fake goods market (now deceased), down to around Tibet Road, Huaihai is the place to be. If you want window shopping, it’s here. If you need restaurants, many of Shanghai’s best are along this road or just off a side street, including great vegetarian fare. If you’re looking for dates, it’s a drooling zone for members of the opposite sex. From tall(ish), well-off or soon-to-be-wealthy men dressed in their finest 3-pieced suits on their way to work, to the women walking the high streets, on Huaihai they all come out to look their best. Now, I’ve written before about the women in Shanghai, however we all know it’s a mixed bag. But on Huaihai the hot girls come out to work and shop. Trust me. This area has the greatest concentration of well-educated, savvy young people China has to offer.

A few highlights:

• Shanghai Times Square (there is also a “Times Square” in Pudong, don’t get confused), including a City Shop under the Lane Crawford and a bookstore second to none in the same basement. Sometimes the site of parades passing by.
• Porsche Shop just east of the South-North Elevated Road. Just for looking of course.
• Huangpi South Road subway station and the Hong Kong Plaza Computer Market. Get your computer or accessories here. Bargain hard for extras as they won’t go down much off the listed price. Get speakers, headphones, flash drives and even printers thrown in for free on your next computer purchase. Also tons of cameras, camcorders, iPods, etc. Physical across the street and Xintiandi just a few blocks south.
• Shaanxi South Road subway station and the site of the old Xiangyang Market. There are still hawks out there trying to get tourists to go to their small lane shops that used to feast off of the Xiangyang gravy train. Now a dying breed. Turn North up Shaanxi for that great shoe shops and interesting shops for those interested in a trendier but cost-effective look. (For those who don’t know which way’s north but are shopping conscious, at Huaihai and Shaanxi, turn towards Plaza 66 and proceed straight.)

Feds

Guess what? There aren’t any.

More or less that statement is true. The army has guns, the people don’t. If you really want to kill someone you have to do it with a knife or your bare hands, hardly a task for the meek.

Consequently, I feel safe. In downtown Vancouver I’d walk home at night and check over my shoulder now and then to see if anyone was following me, and once a year or so someone gets shot at a bar. In China the worst gun crime I’ve heard of happened just a couple months after I arrived when some guy surnamed Ma gunned down 5 people at his old university before taking his own life. In five years, that’s the worst gun crime perpetrated in this country.

Of course we’re not safe from everything in China: floods, earthquakes combined with shoddy construction codes, traffic accidents (which produce a huge amount of deaths each year) and general lack of awareness for safety that seems to dog developing countries everywhere.

But that still beats the fear of someone cracking one morning and coming in with an automatic weapon and spraying the office with metal. Not that I lived in fear in Canada, I just appreciate a general feeling of personal physical safety in China now that I’m here.

Besides the army, there are a few other guns in this country. There are licensed hunters who have guns, but I’m quite sure they’re not out there with AK-47s or Kalashnikovs.  And though I’ve never seen one, there must be a fair amount of gun ranges around since China has its fair share of marksmen out to win Olympic gold this year.  (They really cleaned up in Athens, putting all of the gun-totting Americas to shame.)

I’ve heard if one has enough money and connections that a gun could be purchased, but it’s all hearsay until you actually need one, isn’t it?  I can’t see why most people here would.  Chinese people just don’t fight much - not the way North Americans do, anyway.  Yes, I see arguments everyday on the streets, but the most it usually escalates is into a short scuffle, without any real punches thrown.  People surround those arguing and break up the fight before it even really begins.  The only time I’ve ever seen a really good fight is after a traffic accident when the two morons involved had each other by the throat.  Normally though, everyone is talked down and eventually the would-be combatants walk away.  No bullets fired, no gangs around to get involved and no reason to end lives.  Not many arguments are worth that, are they?

It’s nice to feel safe and to be able to say what you think without much thought of possible violent retribution: one of the many ways a person is freer in China than in some other countries.  It may have its faults, but gun control ain’t one of them.

Feds

I’ve been silent for a long time about the quake.  I should write something but I suppose I’ve been soaking it in. People outside of China may have a difficult time understanding the impact this disaster is having here. It’s more or less equivalent to a Katrina or 9/11. Canadians don’t really have a similar experience to compare with, nor do many Europeans in recent history.

It’s not just that 65,000 people have died (it will probably rise to 80,000) or that tens of thousands are badly injured. It’s the orphans, the parents who lost children, the buildings that crumbled so easily, the swaying skyscrapers more than a thousand miles away, and the massive response from all around China.

Death tolls are really just statistics in a way. The shock and horror of 9/11 went far beyond the 3,000 people that died that day. But sometimes the sheer depth and breadth of destruction and death and take its own toll. There have been countless reporters and relief and rescue workers breaking down in tears because of the never ending corpses and mourning families. Whole villages have basically been wiped off the face of the earth and countless families have lost everything they had.

In China, most parents are only allowed a single child.  The love and attention an only child gets is only compounded in a society where the children are looked upon as the future of the entire family.  They are dotted on but are also heaped with pressure to provide for their elderly parents and grandparents, and the pressure starts early.  The parents pour all their love into their kids and expect to be taken care of in return.  Given the amount of ancestor worship that goes on in China, I venture to assume that though it’s not stated in a conscious way, children are the only way that parents and grandparents can attain immortality.  It is they who must burn money in order to give the deceased a comfortable afterlife, and it is through the child that they are remembered.  With no child, the memory is extinguished and the comforts not provided for.

The orphans still have a fighting chance, but that depends upon the kindness and generosity of foster parents.  China has begun to organize for the maintenance and care for the kids left behind.  Those who lost a child in the earthquake are being given preference, though many of them lost what resources they had to take care of a child.  Other families in China and even foreigners are being considered for the thousands of kids left behind, their world shattered, their hopes in limbo.

Officials have announced a relaxation of the one-child policy for parents that lost a child in the quake.  Though this is hardly much of a consolation, it represents a logical derivation from the policy, whatever your views on it.  Many parents who lost their child are too old to begin again, but others can, and are being given the chance.

On another front, the construction of the schools that crumbled so easily is an issue that won’t be going away anytime soon.  Parents are demanding explanations for why the schools were built so poorly, their sorrow now turning to anger.  Protestors are being begged to stop and riot police have been called in to try to sooth the parents, surround them so that they cannot be seen by reporters, or drag them off, as the case may be.  The collapsing schools have become a source of embarrassment for the government and a rallying point for those trying to air grievances in the aftermath of the quake.  Officials will offer compensation in return for parents giving up their right to sue.  But who would they sue?  Construction companies that are probably long since bankrupt?  The schools?  The officials who turned the other way as building codes were neglected?  Fat chance.  Individuals have no standing in PRC courts to sue the government.  Their lawyers will be harassed or even have their licenses revoked, as were some lawyers in Beijing who promised free legal advice to Tibetans accused in the Lhasa riots of this spring.

It’s a little unnerving that buildings in Shanghai and Beijing swayed for 2 to 3 minutes from an earthquake so far away.  It’s like a quake in Mexico shaking buildings in Toronto.  That just doesn’t make sense.  For people working in towers like Jinmao in Shanghai, I’d start to think twice over whether it’s a good idea to be located 400 meters above the ground.  The fact that people in all buildings around the country felt the quake added to its immediacy.  When combined with the idea of the “Chinese Family”, a.k.a. all Chinese citizens plus ethnic Chinese living abroad, this immediacy added fuel to the massive response.

The response itself was interesting to watch, even if the damage and destruction was mortifying.  The first day or so there was little reaction from the common people and not the serious attention it deserved on the news.  It seemed like it took a while to sink in how serious the tragedy was.  Then more detailed reports and pictures started rolling in, and as day 2 and 3 began, the mobilization of the country and its resources started.

Mobilization in China begins with neighborhood associations and companies.  Workers were encouraged (i.e. pressured) to donate and lists of donors and the amounts were circulated through email and posted on walls.  (Many companies had rules about not giving more than your superiors, etc.)  Same in apartments where lists are still up showing how much families gave.  TV galas displayed proud corporate bosses parading around with red donation envelopes, touting how much they’d given.   That part of the response started to get sickening, real fast.  Especially when money will only help for certain purposes - and it depends who you donate to.  What was much more wonderful to see were lineups and blood mobiles and health workers so overwhelmed in cities like Shanghai that people were being turned away after leaving their phone numbers to be contacted to return later.  The Chinese are not normally big blood donors, given certain beliefs about blood and the HIV tainted scandals of the early 1990s, so this reaction was good to see.  Students at medical schools tried to get to the disaster area, but were usually turned away because many places were still unsafe.  Police, fire and medical crews from around the country poured into Sichuan, not to mention the armed forces, from which China has plenty of manpower.  Banners were put up around China within days encouraging people to give to charities and to help overcome the devastation - they are everywhere in neighborhoods, painted on buses, in train stations and on television.

The rebuilding will take years, but the relief and rescue operations were something unheard of in this country’s recent history.  The reporting was - at least at first - much more extensive as all earthquake-related topics were green-lighted.  Only later did sensitive information start to be repressed.  There is grief everywhere, but much applauding to do for China and its response.  Clearly the government was out to show that it would take care of the people, but for the average person it was simply a part of their duty to help out their compatriots.

I guess that’s all I want to say for now.  There’s so much to this topic, people have been discussing it 24/7 for a month now.

Feds

What was the difference growing up between my wife and I?

Many things. But one small one is interesting: eggs.

Before she was 12 or so my wife ate eggs only sparingly, and only pork on occasion. Eggs were one of the few animal related sources of protein for the average Chinese person in the 80s and most of the 90s. Most protein came from tofu. Milk, yoghurt and all the other dairy products that are so commonly found today were much harder to find back then, and the average family didn’t have the spare cash for them.

For those of you who don’t have the background, until the last 15 years or so, most of China was busy churning out as much rice and wheat as possible to provide enough calories from rice and wheat for the massively growing population of this country. There was no land for cattle, let alone for growing the spare feed. Importing beef? You must be joking. All funds were diverted into feeding the population and creating the infrastructure for the industrial giant China is today. My wife doesn’t come from a poor family at all, but then 20 years ago everyone was relatively poor, compared with today.

Rachel has told me stories about when she was lucky enough to be able to eat an egg: most revolve around when a guest came to their home. The guest got the egg. Feeling sorry for the kids about (extended families often eat together in China, though not as much anymore), the guest would often only take a bite or two before giving it to those who needed it to grow. The average Chinese men and women grow much taller today than even their parents did - a generational change in diet of massive importance and scale.

When I would wake up in the morning during high school I would first fix myself a heaping bowl of cereal with the milk I took for granted and poured over the sports section of the newspaper. Then I’d fry two eggs, often eating them over two pieces of buttered toast, checking the paltry international news we got before getting ready for school. I had more calories for breakfast than my wife had before dinner most days.

My mother would scold and nag at me if I had more than two eggs in a day. Of course in Western cooking there are a lot of eggs in other dishes we eat, such as quiches, egg salad sandwiches, and many baked goods, so we consume a lot of eggs on a regular basis. The big Western health scare of the 1980s was cholesterol, with warnings on eating too many eggs coming from doctors and health bureaus alike.

So: “Don’t eat so many eggs, Kristopher. Don’t you know that too many eggs are bad for your health?” Versus: “Don’t eat that egg, Lian. That egg’s for the guest. Watch your manners, eggs are for guests.”

The different between the two couldn’t be greater.

Feds

I should have known from the humidity today - it was hot and sweltering - but it took until the moment it started pouring sheets of rain for me to put it together. The rainy season has hit Shanghai.

Fortunately it only lasts about 2 weeks. Yup, that’s right - a two week season in June each year. Wet n’wild. Lighting and thunder storms at any time of the day, unlike the almost precision-like 4:30-in-the-afternoon thunder storms of the Canadian prairies. The rain comes down hard, I mean pounding, with wind often blowing it completely sideways. Umbrellas are useless; they all become the playthings of the wind. People struggle to open them and then get tossed around as the wind bends them inside-out and back again, left, right, forward and back.

The craziness began today at about 2:45 pm. I know because I was on my way home in a cab. We were at a light and I saw ahead that there was a lightning flash. A short time later came the clap of thunder. Yet it had been a little dark all day so I didn’t really think it would quite rain yet. When I looked up again the rain was coming down hard. But without sound. It wasn’t raining on my cab. I looked to the side to confirm and there was no rain on the lane beside us, but ahead about 50 meters the street was already swimming. Suddenly the cloud came upon us and after about one second of “pop pop pop” buildup the rain really started. The light turned and we were off, but needing a significant amount of window wiper action. We turned and drove another 200 meters at most and then the rain stopped. Well, it hadn’t stopped but we had crossed past the tip of the rain cloud that we’d been under. But another 10 seconds later it had shifted and was over us again. When I got out of the cab I had less than 50 meters to walk into my building, yet when I got there the upper half of my body was already soaked.

Sweet sultry mugginess, the rainy season is here.

Feds

After being in Jiangxi for a few days my wife had a confession to make.

“I didn’t really have a good time because I wasn’t me. I was just the foreigner’s wife.”

Rachel, it appears, had lost her identity. The locals who were our hosts mostly paid attention to me, wanted me to drink with them, sit at their tables, tell them what I thought of Jiangxi, etc. They called me over and sometimes would fail to call my wife as well. So I had to make sure Rachel was included, like suddenly I was the cool kid and she was my side kick.

I tried to assure her that in Canada the opposite was true, but in fact it isn’t. In my family Rachel is the new one and she’s Chinese so she’s unique and special, but not to the same degree.

Here, outside of Beijing and Shanghai I am laowai: a curiosity, a welcomed outsider, a walking celebrity (without a reason for it) and a topic of discussion. Even in my wife’s family I am an asterisk. I have been accepted and her entire family treats me with love and honesty, but I will always remain unique and special. No matter how long I live here or even if I have children who will be assumed to be Chinese because of their skin tone, I will not be considered Chinese. So I will always be different, at least in the countryside. Rachel, by contrast, blends in somewhat better in Canada where a great deal of the population is non-white.

But it’s a little unfair for her here. Why should she be reduced to a footnote when we travel? Of course there are few foreigners in Jiangxi and the people we were with were quite interested in talking to me and asking me questions. Now that I can speak enough Chinese to get by in most conversations, my wife no longer has to translate. Translating was a thankless job, but now she’s sometimes ignored altogether. Though I would hardly describe my wife as normal - I did marry her because she’s different - some people only take interest in her only insofar as she’s married to a foreigner.

A hard thing to accept. It’s a good thing we live in Shanghai, where there have been so many foreigners for such a long time that I hardly get noticed. We are both anonymous, atomized in Shanghai.

Feds