Elysium

A Gentle Reminder I

Posted by snow under china

Whether it’s because I’m too westernized, naive, or plain simple minded, all of my relatives and close friends of my relatives have given me survival lessons that have bordered paranoia. Though they’ve made me a coward I’ll take the liberty to describe some to you here more as a reflection of Chinese culture than advice. I’ve also made the effort to organize them into categories

A) The “Thieves are Everywhere” category:
1. Don’t wear your purse or bag behind you. People will cut it open and take your valuables.
2. Similarly, don’t put your wallet in your back pocket, or anywhere visible. In crowded buses, people will bump you and steal it.
3. Don’t display anything of value in public: this includes digital SLR cameras, laptops, smartphones. People will stalk you and rob you.
4. Don’t leave any bags or coats unattended, anywhere. They will be taken.

Things have gotten better these years, but given such a disproportionate amount of poor people in China, it’s no surprise that some will make their living off of less glorious professions.

Heat

Posted by snow under china

Beijing in the last few days has been not so much a frying pan, but an iron smelting crucible. With air temperatures hitting 107F and pavement temperatures at a balmy 154F, I finally had the opportunity savor the feeling of being roasted alive. It was on exactly a day like this that we decided to visit the BeiJing zoo.

The animals there were far more intelligent than their primate brethren and for the most part were either sleeping in the shade, sleeping underground, or sleeping in the water. One of the pandas opted for a loftier perch and slept in a tree. Between the four of us, we consumed what would amount to a small ocean’s worth of fluids, but did not visit the washroom once.

Such weather mandates daily laundry sessions, unless you liked wearing moldy, stinky, sweat stained rags. A majority of the people here still wash their clothes by hand, or hires someone to wash them by hand as running a load on a washing machine with just a tshirt and a pair of shorts is unreasonable. I, with my heavy fabric western jeans and thick western tshirts has had a heavier workout than normal. In fact, my jeans were almost impossible to wring by hand.

Sleeping in such a climate also has it’s unpleasantries, for me at least. Our room isn’t equipped with AC, though we are blessed with a fan. We make do with woven bamboo mats placed on our beds so that any sweat we do produce won’t make our sheets a mushy soggy mess. They also cool much faster so shifting around in your sleep serves a double purpose. We’ve basically left the fan running 24/7 at this point to make the room even remotely habitable, though there are still nights when falling asleep in the heat was difficult.

Pangu Hotel

Posted by snow under china

Walking into the Pangu hotel made me reminisce about the forbidden city of old. Only after three layers of security checkpoints did I even get to see the entrance of the hotel. Entering the massive automatic revolving door, I was greeted with a brigade of beautiful, smiling attendants. They asked for my every need and professionally made me feel like someone important. I obliged and held my head a fair inch higher, though snobbery was not something I was adept at. Unsurprisingly, I quickly fumbled, and reverted to my old form.

The glossy marble floors, the gilded decor made the entire lobby seem like a treasure vault, shining with golden rays at every angle. I stood dumbfounded for a good ten minutes, idly wandering around, taking in the sight. Exquisitely stuffed couches, beautiful attendants, illuminated fountains, everything drew my eye. The classy, but not overly modern decor made me feel like a successful industrialist of the 1960′s briefly stopping in before signing a giant pig iron deal. From the elevator to my friend’s room, I was escorted by a succession of smiling staff, all who were ecstatically waiting for the opportunity to serve me. Halfway through, I realized I was being too much of a tourist, promptly picked up my jaw and headed to the room.

If the lobby left me dumbfounded, then the hotel room left me temporarily brain damaged. Just the hallway space between his door, his bathroom, his multiple closets and his cancerous huge bedroom was more than enough to barracks half of the red army. His bedroom vied with tennis courts for size and imperial palaces for comfort. It was generously equipped with five lavish crimson couches, one king sized bed, a fireplace, a humongous mirror and TV. His two giant windows were equipped with electronically activated curtains that were controlled via a remote control. From the cushioned command center that was his bed, he could, open and close the curtains, the TV, the lights, the fireplace, call for room service, issue the execution of 500 rebels, launch nuclear warheads, and of course, sleep if necessary. The entire area of his room was rounded off with a gorgeous, plush carpet thick enough to lose small mammals in.

As I entered his bathroom, I made the astonishing realization that a family of four could probably live comfortably in there. There was a tub, a shower room, a toilet room, two surprisingly beautiful sinks in the shape of rafts. I couldn’t hold in my curiosity and asked to take a shower there. The experience could be described as nothing less than a revelation. I was finally shown that showers could be addictive, irrationally comfortable experiences that made personal hygiene an excuse to indulge in pleasure. Water came pouring down from a one foot square tile perforated roughly 1/4 inch holes. My friend described the whole experience as ‘natural rain’, but for me, it was more uteral. It was probably the most comfortable shower I’ve taken in my life, or at least since coming to China.

We spent the good part of an hour going over all the nifty perks in the room before continuing on with the other scheduled activities. Oh did I mention there was free beer in the fridge?

Note: Trying to catch up with my blog count, apologies for posting too many at a time.

An Unexpected Guest I

Posted by snow under china

In an unexpected turn of events, a good friend of mine ended up staying in Beijing for two days for a conference. After skipping out early on work and arriving at his hotel, We pondered long on what to do for the precious afternoon. We ended up deciding on some combination of shopping and night life. From there, it was merely a matter of finding the right venues.

In Beijing, there are two very famous shopping areas that are must sees (or at least so I’m told): WangFuJing and XiDan. The latter, being a street with quite a bit of histoy dating well into the Qing Dynasty. It’s named after a well on the street where the relatives of the emperor resided. My sources inform me that this was a nice place to pick up some specialties of Beijing and do some shopping in one of the countless shopping centers. My sources also informed me that there wasn’t much to see here now. We chose to hit up WangFuJing shortly after 6 to have some dinner and wander about.

Going through WangFuJing proper, we found no restaurants unless you count Mickey D’s or the Colonel’s, though there was a wide variety of snacks available. We opted to look for something proper and ended up leaving the area. We finally settled on a shop that claimed to make homestyle Chinese food – a blatant lie as I doubt most families ate Beijing Duck. We ordered a very hearty meal consisting of a Beijing Duck meal and a couple side dishes. One dish of “Asparagusplettuce” as Baidu calls. It was sliced into thin stripes about 1/4 of a fry in area and 1/2 a fry in length. It was incredibly crunchy, much something like an apple.

Everyday Man Part II

Posted by snow under Uncategorized

As expected, the cafeteria was a battleground. A good hundred to two hundred people dotted the gymnasium sized dining area, congregating for the most part in pairs or trios around the 4 person tables. The tables were built of white plastic and steel, with two pairs of colorful plastic chairs welded into place next to them. A disturbing number of the chairs were somehow damaged, giving the otherwise clean cafeteria a worn look that was so characteristic of China. I walked down the right side of the cafeteria, scanning the huge line of food ready to order that made up that side of the room. At this hour, a good half of the food had already been plucked away. Soup, congee, fried vegetables, buns, dumplings, noodles, pancakes, hotpots, nothing really drew my eye seeing as I have already had over 20 meals here.

I stood expectantly in front of the line for gruel, waiting for one of the bored attendants to wander over. Hopefully my bright, watery eyes and my childish smile would bring her over closer. A professor type snuck up next to me and called out his order in a loud, throaty voice: “Give me two bowls of congee.” I glanced over at him to see if he had any guilt for cutting in front of me – of course there wasn’t a hint. “One bowl for me as well.” I quickly yelled out. The attendant hardly looked at us, took out a bowl and scooped two spoonfuls of viscous liquid into it and placed the bowl on the counter. The man quickly grabbed it, and the bowl following that.

“1.60″ The attendant muttered at the man while scooping up my bowl. The man put down the bowls and swiped his meal card on the card reader, after which I quickly did the same. A few more stops later, I had myself two servings of stirfry, one bowl of congee and a sugar bun, the usual amount of food I got. All this for a mere 6 RMB, not even 1 US dollar. I grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the stand and quickly got to work. The two dishes of stirfry were composed of a large variety of vegetables, some meat and spices. From what I could taste and see, there was eggplant, onions, green peppers and pork in one and nappa, onions and eggs in the other. Both had a healthy dose of peppercorns, hot peppers, garlic and starch. They tasted surprisingly good but mass produced. The bun was triangular and about the size of my hand. It was filled with brown sugar that formed a pocket of sweetness in the middle of the bun one had to mine through the dough to reach. It was one of my favorites.

The meal passed by quickly and uneventfully. I caught a couple glances of the TV show showing on one of the several TVs suspended from the roof, but without sound, they were of little interest to me. Upon completion, I scooped up my bowls, chopsticks and planted them in the giant bin of dirty dishes at which a lady was cleaning out leftovers. After which I made my way to a long row of sinks to wash my face, mouth and hands. The whole apparatus reminded me of water troughs for cattle. I picked up a popsicle at a nearby school store and sauntered away from the cafeteria in the general direction of my dorm. The whole process had taken less than 30 minutes and according to my custom, there would be 30 minutes worth of strolling before I would consider going home. As I sucked on my yogurt flavored popsicle and listened to the murmur of people on the streets chatting away, I thought about what I’d do to pass the evening.

BTW: got askimet working, so should be able to validate comments now though I’ll apologize for it if yours is labeled spam… by me.

Everyday Man Part I

Posted by snow under Blog, china

It’s a couple minutes before 6. I push back my bag to reveal the left pocket of my dress pants to reach for my keys. The brown stain of dirt on my pant leg left when I had scraped past a construction worker causes a minute of irritation. “I’m going to have to wash these pants again.” I’ve worn the pants for only two days and had not yet earned back the time I invested washing them by hand. With a rattle and a click, my dorm lock opens. I carefully avoid the giant gaping cavity on our flimsy plywood door to find a relatively solid part and push it open. My roomate wasn’t home.

He’s been coming home later than usual these days, either because of the pressures of work, or because of the plethora of friends he’s obliged to dine with. It’s just lonely me tonight, at least I can get some work done. I set my bag down along with my bus pass, keys, cellphone, Chinese cellphone for reading text messages, wallet, all part of my daily armament and sit down on my bed, one of two sitting surfaces that belong to me in the room. I take a deep breath and let out a long sigh, as if such an action could relieve the built up stress of a day of heat, crowded spaces and trying not to get robbed.

Suddenly, as the hour hand hits 6, like clockwork, the school’s broadcast system blares to life and the streets are flooded with the sounds of beautiful music. A pair of sweet voices reach out from this bouquet of sound, like a pair of roses. “Beijing Technical University School Broadcast” they introduce themselves as, letting their voices hit the last two words in unison. I pause for a couple moments, absorbing in the music, and soon the broadcast about school news. They were talking about someone receiving an award, and then about a bit of history from the Tang dynasty. It was interesting stuff, but made little impression in my mind. The sound, blended into the din roar of old diesel tractors and loud voices that created the backdrop of my entire trip.

With a start I awake from my stupor, glance down at my watch, 6:30. Shoot, if I didn’t get going to the school dining hall, I’d be eating leftovers again. I swap my formal pants for some light tan shorts, the kind that don’t ever seem to get dirty and my short sleeved dress shirt for a gray t-shirt. My black socks and leather shoes were also swapped for a pair of flip flops. My garb was not stylish by any standard, but was quite comfortable in the 34 degrees celcius weather in Beijing. It was a relatively cool day too, so I wouldn’t have to worry about my sweat drenching my tshirt and me having to wash it immediately upon my return.

Pick up the wallet, lock the door and I was soon on my way. Five steps out the door, I double back and knock on my neighbors door. Courtesy demanded I check whether he’d be eating tonight. *knock*, *knock*, *knock*. . . No sound from inside, great, I’m on my own today. I scamper down the stairs, my flip flops making loud clapping noises against the dull gray cement steps. The sound, dust and light outside paralyze me for a moment, almost long enough to be hit by a passing bicyclist, the rings of his bell reminding me of his presence just in time. I make a sharp left and head for dining hall #3.

Note: New commentors are currently disabled as I can’t access WordPress from China and can’t turn on a Spam Filter == billions of spam comments.

Safe Landing

Posted by snow under Blog, china

Beijing Welcomes you! The familiar slogan peeks through the piled up gunk on a building’s wall. I sure felt welcome. The hardened look of students walking by me and the steeled expressions of street workers created an atmosphere of oppresion that gave me the warm feeling of home. It’s been what, three days since I’ve landed, out of around 70 or so and already I’ve begun to miss the comforts of home: potable water, internet, mosquito free rooms, 80 degree balmy weather, park benches, the list goes on. But, this stay is not without it’s benefits. I’ve so far eaten far better than I’ve imagined. And, the 0.4 RMB (roughly 8 cent) bus rides make me feel rich. I went out and bought myself a nice pair of dress shoes the other day, total? less than 40 USD.

One thing that has amused me to no end, and is something I think we should have (but doubt we can pull off) in the US is school wide radio broadcasts. Every day at 12:00, the schools loudspeakers begin broadcasting the school radio across the entire campus. It, a student run program covering entertainment, school news, fashion and a plethora of youth related topics hosts a surprisingly beautiful and professional pair of voices. It created a sense of unity and identity for me almost immediately, a feeling that not four years of school spirit building and activities at U of T could foster.

I’m working at my intended location now, though as you may notice (I’m typing this out at work) not at my intended role. This is a brokerage firm and I’m working in the IPO/Merger department. So far, I haven’t been able to discern what it is that everyone is doing when they stare at their LCD displays. Seeing as it’s ‘just after lunch’, it seems impolite to ask all the sleepy, preoccupied people.

Photos are forthcoming, when I can get some internet in my room, or remember to upload them from my phone.

Lay of the Land

Posted by snow under china

In the countrysides of China, the people are organized into small farming towns, each about a half an hour’s walk appart. These are a cluster of maybe a hundred homes that farm the nearby fields. Each family uses about 8 mu of land, roughly 5336 square meters or 1.32 acres. Back in my father’s generation, much of these fields were farmed completely organically: weeds and insects were removed by human labor, fertilizer was either the remains of the last harvest or manure and other composted wastes. Nowadays, it’s a completely industrialized process with small scale tractors, herbicides, pesticides, chemical fertilizers and such. This change, according to my father has brought about an over 4 fold increase in yields, at the expense of sustainability. Much of China’s modern destruction of farmlands for cities relies heavily on the bigger yields that the remaining farmlands can produce.

The types of crops varies depending on region. The wetter South is known more for exotic fruits (like lychee) and rice (i’m not so familiar with Southern agriculture) while the dryer North grows a lot of corn, wheat, millet, cotton, yams and a plethora of vegetables. Most of my grandfathers fields grows two cycles of crops: wheat in the late fall spanning into early summer (around early June), corn after that into late summer. Though in some areas, people grow three crops a year. For us, wheat is grown in late fall and it has time to sprout before the snow sets in. From what i understand, the sprouts can’t be too large or they’ll freeze to death over the winter, but having theses small sprouts makes the crops ripen faster the next year. Before the wheat is even harvested, corn is planted into the fields. When the wheat is cut, 2/3s of the stalk is left in the field because corn is about that high and removing all the stalk will damage the corn. The stalks are left in the field as fertilizer and are flipped under the ground (i believe) after the corn is harvested.

There are some communal plots as well where some people grow a little bit of vegetables like beans or cucumbers. My uncle assures me that nobody bothers your plots, though this being China, i had my reservations about the system.

The image is the roofs of a Chinese village. The pointy house in the foreground is built of ceramic tiles while the rest are of concrete. Ceramic tiles is the traditional method, it’s more expensive, but is much cooler in the summer and doesn’t leak.

Abandoning the Past

Posted by snow under Blog, china

China is an interesting place. Despite the modernity of Shanghai, or Beijing, its success is very much a modern phenomena. In the countryside where time passes more slowly, the traces of the old world have not completely given way to the new. Dig one or two generations back and an almost mystical world unravels itself, one without electricity, modern industry or concerns. Now, these relics and ways of life are slowly slipping away into history while the rest of the nation is focusing on the future.

When i was a child living in the countryside, not having electricity was the default state. There were so many brownouts, during the day that it could not be relied on for any part of our life. It was not uncommon for there to be no electricity for weeks or months. Bedtime was usually when it was too dark outside to do anything productive (8:30) and we owned no appliances. Nobody seemed to mind. We had a wood stove to cook food and on some days, the smoke from burning corn stalks would mask the courtyard like gunpowder flashes on a battlefield. I use to splash water into it and be chased away elsewhere to play. Everywhere in the house, there were strange devices of wood and bamboo that seldom saw use: a roomful of equipment for making cloth from cotton (something my dad told me took up the majority of a wife’s time), carpenter tools for making furniture, a chisel for printing ‘money’ to send to deceased family members. It was all strangely fascinating and i soaked in these sights without much appreciation or thought: they were just part of ‘life at grandpas’. When i go back now, i can hardly find any trace of that lifestyle. The ancient foyer table for the lord and lady of the house had been disassembled, the cotton weave burned, the carpenter tools sold, various homemade straw hats, mats, baskets being replaced by their modern counterparts. I was even hard pressed to find candles about the house. I look at the next generation and wonder: will they know what it was like to be Chinese then? will they ever understand the easy, agrarian lifestyle passed down for countless generations on which i was weaned?

China is very much a country of culture, ancient traditions and sights still dominate our lives. Yet, with today’s modernism and focus on material wealth, much of the joys and guidance our past offers us is disappearing. Many relics of thought and identity are lost to make way for progress. I can’t help but wonder, a hundred, five hundred, years from now, will they still understand what it means to be Chinese? what it is that we value? that we strive for? Perhaps this is the way it’s meant to be, the future should cannibalize the past to grow. I wonder how many in similarly old cultures hold similar thoughts.

::EDIT::
I’ve decided to at least pull my weight in preserving the past. I’ll put up pictures and blog posts about the little i know of this lifestyle.

Tolerance

Posted by snow under Blog

This arose in a discussion with a friend recently.

If we see wrong in this world, should we actively seek to fix it? I suppose all of us would say yes for this question and each of us would envision a different scenario, say an old lady being mugged, or a corrupt tax official punished. But where do we draw the line? How about a person eating him/herself to death off of junk food, or a country imposing a stringent dress code on their population? When should we stick out a hand to help and when should we respect the fact that we don’t know enough about the situation to act meaningfully?

My friend, a revolutionary, was . . . displeased with my passive attitude and on several matters disagreed with my lack of action. In my eyes, we should not act to change the life of another unless it’s directly causing immediate harm to another person – eg. violence or swindling. All other matters we should empower the individual with the proper ideas and tools to help him/herself. Why? Because each of us experiences a different reality, created by our different circumstances and experiences. Our views make perfect sense in each of these unique realities. To criticize another’s behavior while not experiencing another’s reality is not only pointless, but also destructive. More helpful is to listen, to empathize, to immerse oneself into another’s reality, but subjectively and free of the emotions that another is experiencing. The way to interject is not by forcefully altering the landscape of another’s reality, but by offering glimpses of one’s own reality to another and providing a path out of their current plight. Give him/her an idea that can allow him/her to escape their present situation. I feel this not only applies on a personal level, but scales to a communal, national and global level. To fire down criticism from out rocking chairs as the mass media society would have us do and to act brutishly on these often misguided perspectives is arrogant, offensive and often causes more harm.