Written By Chao Huang & Nicole Webb, Edited by Nicole Webb One of the first stories about giving birth I heard in China was from Chao.. it was our first meeting, in a cafe that is probably about as westernised as you can get in Xi'an. They serve coffee, no skim milk mind you and toast smothered in honey and cornflakes. But they have cool tunes playing and it's a great little slice of normality amongst the oriental fray. Chao is Chinese but one of the most westernised Chinese people I've yet to meet. She's married to a Dutchman, but never lived out of China, so we are constantly impressed with her ability to understand the western way. So on that first coffee date, she came rushing in, almost six feet tall, long thick dark hair to her waist... again an education for me, given most Chinese I'd met were quite small and at five foot 3, I'm usually on the tall side. (I discovered Chao's from north, north, north China, up there they breed them tall, they tell me.) We ordered coffees, began introductions and before I knew it, Chao was giving us a blow by blow account of her own birth story in China. It wasn't the last story... over the course of our stay in Xi'an, I heard all sorts of "pregnancy" stories - some heartwarming, others that would make your hair stand on end and had me quietly vowing never to have a baby in China. Stories of there not being enough beds to deliver on, women in the height of labour on trolleys in the corridor. Nurses scolding women during the birth for crying. Having to pay "Guan xi" (extra money) to secure more time with the doctor or a better service. And be sure to BYO food, nappies, cleaning products and most definitely toilet paper! In many Chinese hospitals, fathers still aren't allowed in for the birth. I've heard stories of babies suffering jaundice and being kept in hospital for a week with no parental visits allowed. Stories of Chinese doctors scared to treat babies of mixed race. Stories of China's quest for the perfect baby (ultimately stemming from the one child policy) and subsequently meaning abortions legally carried out as late as eight months and often encouraged by families and doctors if there is something (often minor) wrong with the baby...(busses all over town still bear big signs advertising abortion clinics). One particularly memorable story about an American expat who had to ship her own blood in from the U.S because she was A-negative blood type and few Chinese people are. Being in this blood group also had me a little on edge truth be told, should I ever need a transfusion, in China. And then, of course, the strange (to us) things a pregnant woman can and can't do during her nine months of pregnancy. My dear friend Chao is pregnant again... in Xi'an, so I asked her to write a guest post on how things have gone so far, and what it's really like having a baby in China, today. Standing in the busy hospital, bustling with about 100 other pregnant woman, my husband and I were lost in the madness. (Actually, my husband was stunned!) We were in one of the biggest and best women and children’s hospital in China but it was totally overwhelming and knowing where to go was impossible. I'd only just found out I was pregnant, for the second time. Of course, as with everything in China, a lot of things have rapidly moved on since my first pregnancy, five years ago. But what struck me immediately, that definitely hasn't changed, is the chaos! With a population of 1.4 billion and the relaxing of the one child policy, China's hospitals are only getting more and more crowded. Guest relations are a last resort. Priority is getting through the bevy of patients in need. When you first enter the hospital, there's a woman sitting at the main service desk. My simple question,‘ Which floor should I go to?’ was answered with, "It depends if you are 100% sure you are pregnant!” Um...I try to explain, I've tested positive twice, but before I could finish, she waved me off with an impatient “Go the third floor!” We rode the elevator, squashed in with a dozen other women and their partners. The doors opened and my eyes bulged -- there before me were two giant halls - overflowing with no less than 300 people!! There was a long queue winding out of the hall and down the corridor with women lining up to pay for a heart-beat monitor; another shorter queue with women waiting on two blood-pressure machines, and the rest of the space was filled with pregnant women, their mums, husbands and probably mother-in-laws. It was utter bedlam. I tried to gently push through the crowds to get to the counter. Anxious and uncertain, I quietly stammered to the older nurse, "What shall I do when I find out I am pregnant?" She looked at me like I'd asked the silliest question and perhaps I had. She gruffly interrupted with a quick gesture to say, read the procedure on the wall, “You have eyes and are literate right?!” she chided. Side note: Doctors and nurses in public hospitals in China aren't known for their bedside manner. I struggled my way through the people leaning against the wall and read that I would need a hospital card with my name on it and enough money deposited on it to move forward in this pregnancy game! How much money is enough? Well that depends on how much trouble you want to go to. You can just deposit 20RMB ($US3) for a doctor’s appointment but then you'll have to keep running to the machine to deposit for the medicines, blood tests, ultrasounds, etc. And only then can I go online and register to a doctor’s office. (No specific doctor, of course, at this stage.) The security guards were chasing away any male who was standing in the hall that looked out of place (even though they were the equally nervous fathers-to-be); the nurses were frantically writing down blood pressure figures, and while it seemed like everyone else was sitting quietly, the noise was unbearable. And that was my first visit to an Obstetrician/Gynaecologist. (There are few general practitioners and almost everything medical is done in one of China's mammoth hospitals.) Of course, to my dismay, I had to go back again, especially as it has the best doctors in the province and every one, including me, is desperate for the very best treatment. In second or third tier cities, like Xi'an, despite having a population of nine million, private hospitals with good service don't attract the top doctors and they lack first class medical equipment. Of course, it's natural for any new parents to want the best medical care, but the extremes Chinese people go to during pregnancy to ensure a healthy baby are surely debatable. Google "Chinese pregnancy taboos” and you'll be swamped with a million 'do's and don'ts'. A few I have been warned of personally that you might find interesting (or have a chuckle at), but many Chinese take very seriously are: #1 Don't eat crabs! This can cause a difficult labor and the baby could be born sideways. (Like a crab right!) #2 Eating light-coloured food will make your baby fair-skinned, while soy sauce and coffee will ruin the baby’s skin, making them dark, and in China the fairer the better. #3 Eating a lot of black sesame will make the baby’s hair glossy and shiny like black satin; #4 No eating rabbit meat, as this could cause cleft palate (which is quite a big problem in China..and sadly one many parents can't afford to fix, resulting in a huge number of orphans.) #5 You should look at pictures of cute babies constantly, that will make your future baby beautiful (I do find this one kind of cute); #6 Food that is too “cold” should be avoided as nobody wants a miscarriage or diarrhoea. And when I was pregnant five years ago, we were all advised to wear an ‘anti-radiation vest” when sitting in front of a computer or talking on the phone, to block out radiation. When my obstetrician suggested I wear one for the whole pregnancy, I did, but with hindsight, I shouldn’t have, as that thing is thick and heavy and you were not allowed to wash it and I had to wear it for 9 long months!! So, not surprisingly, China is possibly one of the few places where airport security is willing to shut the radiation screening on the security check for a pregnant woman and agree to check her by hand — and that, is quite sweet. And did I mention that many Chinese friend's jaws dropped when they heard I'd be taking multiple planes across continents during my second and early third trimester for travel? Many of them warned me against it, shaking their heads and saying “A friend of a friend's lost their baby after a domestic flight - the doctor's explanation — "It might be true, if you haven't done any other unusual things, because there's not enough oxygen in the plane.” I know, generally speaking, pregnancy is not easy, the world over, but here where it's steeped in tradition, superstition and the (often over bearing but well meaning) advice of elders/friends/or even doctors, it goes to the next level. And the intensity only continues during postpartum, especially that crucial first month. Called "Zuo Yuezi", it is commonly practiced in urban and rural China, and means the new mums must behave according to traditional beliefs and practices. It's believed this will help the new mum regain her strength and protect her health for the future, and includes avoiding cold or salted food; staying inside the house with the doors and windows closed so no wind blows through. (It's thought the wind will blow into the bones of the new mum and cause arthritis and joint pains!) Avoid housework and limit visitors. And because the body structure has changed during pregnancy and labor, Chinese believe women should lie in bed before all the organs in the body move out of position; and definitely no showering or brushing your teeth for this month!! I was thinking these old traditions had died down a little, but recently the fairly modern-looking lady next door told me she didn't get out of her bed unless it was absolutely necessary after giving birth! My eyes widened when she told me she did NOT brush her teeth for a month. But before I could hide my surprise, she said "Yeah, you can be as judgmental as you want, but you will regret it when you have the inside problem in your body when you are older.” Then when I asked how many damaged teeth she had, she shrugged, “Just one cavity, but it was bad and I had to have a crown after the month.” Of course, these old traditions are wise customs from the past, and I do believe, that to some degree, women need enough rest and nutrition after such a major change in their body, and in the past (as little as three decades ago), women were better off following these rules because there was no hot water or heating; a lot of women were doing hard labor work and were malnourished. But with all the amenities and convenience we have now, surely it needs updating? I am not the only one to say that. This age old tradition is bringing new business and "YueZi Zhong Xin" is one. Postpartum care centres for new mums in that first month, are springing up all over the place. Charging from 10,000 RMB (about $1600USD) to 200,000 ($30,000 USD) or even more depending on how luxurious it is, they provide in-room dining up to six times a day, help with breastfeeding and breast massaging, and have nurses on hand to check body measurements. New moms can just rest in their hotel-like bedrooms until care givers bring your baby for feeding. (Sounds just like a regular western hospital, doesn't it?) ;) And now with more migrants and more rich mums trying to deliver babies in developed countries to get their children a “better” passport, there are more postpartum centres thriving in the popular Chinese residing cities like Los Angeles and Toronto. In China, we like to quote Hegel’s saying “What is rational is actual and what is actual is rational.” to explain that everything exists for a reason and these deep-rooted traditions won’t die down in the foreseeable future. After all, everything has its reason. This is China. … [Read more...]
Through the Eyes of My Expat Child! Lessons Learned.
People keep saying to me, “Oh your little girl must be loving the normality of being back home in Australia.” I smile, nodding meekly, not wanting to seem ungrateful for this amazing life Down Under. Sure, she is loving all that being “home” has to offer. Who wouldn't! But then I politely interject with “But for her, this is not normal.” That piercing blue sky creating a vibrant rooftop above us, that’s seriously quite remarkable, but I've gotta be honest, all these bugs...they're really doing her head in...and she hasn't quite figured out how to cross the road, sensibly. My small person was born in the oriental kingdom of Hong Kong six years ago! Despite her Australian citizenship, blonde hair and blue eyes, she will proudly announce to all and sundry, she’s a Honky, through and through. Her preference for rice and dim sum is yet to be surpassed by pizza. Living the expat life meant that when she was just three and a half, with a mix of reluctance and anticipation, we upped stumps and left the glittering fragrant harbour of Hong Kong for more rugged (in every way) pastures in Xi’an, north west China. Wearing a mask for much of winter, even in the playground, the frenetic crowds that never seem to quiet, the neon signs brandishing bold Chinese characters that never seem to dim; the notorious traffic jams that have cars riding mere centimetres from one another… and the random strangers who hoist her up onto their shoulders in the street (without asking) for a prized photo...these are all things, to her, that until now, have been utterly normal. Not to mention, despite our best efforts, it's impossible to understand what most people are saying to you, much of the time. Living Down Under, in a westernised world, for her, is a first. So far, the continuous stream of fresh air and never ending carpet of green grass to roll in (without wondering what's in it), driving our own car from place to place wherever and whenever we may choose and strolling through the quaint neighbourhood to school… is all a joyous novelty. (As are the toy aisles in K Mart.) But what does it really mean to be an expat kid… or as they like to call you a Third Culture Kid? As with just about anything in life, there are pros and cons to growing up in a foreign country and as an expat parent you are constantly asking yourself if you're doing the right thing. Missing out on family back home is clearly the number one drawback… and is one of the major reasons, we are… 'back' after seven years abroad. Now we're here and have come through the initial teething stages, I asked my small person, what she thinks she’s learned living in these countries, now she’s had time to absorb the Aussie life. I think you’ll agree, her answers, though simple and unguarded are truly indicative of what it means to be an expat kid. HAVING FRIENDS FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD When you’re an expat child, often you’ll go to an international school, rather than a local school. Obviously it depends on the country you’re living in but if their native language is not English, the language barrier at a local school can be difficult and the education system is often not what your child is used to, particularly in China where a local school for Ava would've meant around the clock tuition, seven, long, days a week. An international school will still have a mix of local kids - in our case, many who couldn't speak English - and then a handful of people from all corners of the world. Ava’s mix of friends spanned the globe from American to English, Canadian, Welsh, German, French, Korean, Irish, Italian and of course Chinese…and that was just the kids. Her expat teachers were also from all walks of life giving her their own taste of the world. Having few expats in Xi'an meant the pond from which to choose friends was small…but it meant Ava wasn't just friends with expat kids in her year but kids from every grade and you can bet, they always had each other's back. Thats not to say she wasn't friends with the locals too. When I asked Ava if it was difficult when they couldn't speak much English, she said (in her words) “While it was frustrating on both sides not being able to always talk to all your classmates, you could still play together, Mum!” Language is no barrier when you’re on the slide or doing arts and crafts, right? How do you communicate? Simple, “You just show them or use your hands,” she says. In Australia, Ava is still getting used to having such a wide circle of friends - and mostly they all look like her! Not to mention their mums look just like me! Say it isn’t so! And they’re not arriving at school on the back of a scooter or in a Tuk Tuk. CULTURAL AWARENESS When I asked her what she remembers most about her international school, apart from her friends of course… she says, “celebrating different traditions from all over the world.” From Halloween, to Chinese New Year, the Dragon Boat Festival, the Lantern Festival and Thanksgiving, she’s seen it all and understands that "everybody is different" and we all come from different backgrounds in this diverse land. LEARNING TO ADAPT Do kids adapt easily? I often hear people say children are resilient but sometimes I’m not convinced. I won’t sugar coat it, some days have been tough for Ava. Beneath the smiles and the giggles, there are tears as she gets used to a new life, a new school, a new teacher, new friends, new rules and a new routine. But as she says, when we first went to China, she would cover her ears, the incessant honking of car horns was so loud! Two years later, she barely noticed the noise. Driving to school was always a nightmare in the bumper to bumper traffic and walking into a new school was terrifying, let alone trying to navigate the zig zagging cars, just to get to the front gate. Now she can laugh about those times our driver dropped us at school and actually stuck his hand out like superman to stop the traffic so we could cross. What school zone? No one’s uninvitingly touching her hair and pushing little XiaoWu into her side for a picture, which in those early days had the potential to send Miss Three into a right tiz. By the time she left, while she perhaps never got used to it, she learned to accept it for the harmless curiosity it was. Does she miss the attention? Apparently that's a big, fat NO, mum, with a screwed up face! (And here I was thinking I could get use to the paparazzi.) Of course there's adapting and adopting! Regularly seeing other kids relieve themselves on the side of the road, doesn't mean she follows suit.. she still chuckles at the time(s) her and daddy saw a lady squatting on the toilet with her pants down. APPRECIATING THE LUCKY COUNTRY What’s different about being back? I ask. “Well mum we don’t get things done for us… no one brings our food or cleans our house.” Um, tell me something I don't know! "We don't have big heavenly hotel beds or a big balcony," she says (covered in desert dust, I might add) and now we have to learn to do things for ourselves. Ahhh. Yeh! We do, I say through gritted teeth. But how about not having to brush our teeth with bottled water anymore! Despite being privileged with all the pleasures of a hotel at our beck and call, Ava also realises not every country is the so called "lucky country". Life is more simple here, she says…”Mum you have more friends and they all have pets!” “And there are so many more trees, less pollution and people don’t throw their rubbish or spit!” We can go to a doctor whenever we need to and speak English to him or her and get medicine with relative ease. "Mummy doesn’t fly into a complete meltdown when I get a cold… and run around checking and re-checking medicine supplies." (Just in case.) “Driving our own car is exciting because there’s English music on the radio and I can learn the words….” But being in a car seat is still a little constricting. And much to her dismay, she still has to learn mandarin! ;-) "You can’t help where you’re born though," she says and perhaps that's a fact so many of us forget. … [Read more...]
China’s Smoking Gun: Somebody’s Making a Killing! #ThisisChina
When your taxi driver casually offers you a cigarette, Toto, you know you’re not in Kansas anymore. When I first arrived in Xi'an, China, it felt like a time machine had transported me back into a bygone era. Rampant smoking was one of the first signs that I'd stepped straight into the 50’s, the 60’s or even the 70’s. One thing was clear, it wasn't the naughties! In most western countries in 2017, smoking is discouraged with vehement education programs, smoking bans and ugly, graphic images on cigarette packets, that cost you an arm and a leg! In downtown Xi’an, smoking is still the ultimate height of fashion! Except well, it’s mainly men - walking around, their stomach paunch on show with pride; the ubiquitous cigarette dangling from their pursed lips. It's as much a part of their daily routine as applying deodorant. Oh wait.... The numbers are startling. A 2015 study put 68 per cent of the male population as smokers. That’s two thirds of men puffing away like there’s no tomorrow. And perhaps there isn’t, for many. It’s big business for the country. China’s currently the world’s largest consumer and producer of tobacco with 350 million smokers. The world’s largest cigarette manufacturer is the state-owned 'China Tobacco' - who’s nearest competitor is Philip Morris and he doesn’t even come close. The government is making a killing, literally. In the early days, I watched on with amusement (and mild horror) as men and the humble but deadly cigarette seemed mutually exclusive. Bike riders and their cigarette dangling precariously as they weave in and out of the bedlam traffic…a look of James Dean minus the muscles and ripped shirt. I watched as middle aged men were shuffled out of the hotel by a certain hotelier for lighting up in the lobby, the lifts or even the toilets. They'd grunt in response as if it was the most ludicrous thing in the world to be told not to smoke. Who’s the white guy shouting in his broken Chinese, “Bu keyi Chou Yan!” "Don't smoke!" I watched as my driver, hurriedly stubbed out his cigarette, moments before I approached….I can imagine he was more than happy when I took long enough on the school drop-off for him to park himself at the bus stop and inhale, before a quick obligatory snooze, (if he was left in a car for longer than five minutes). When it rained, he didn't even bother getting out, instead, hanging out the window….his smoke billowing into the already polluted air...and stinking out the hotel car. The smell of stale cigarettes was a permanent fixture for most of my China days. I'd see bus drivers sucking back as they roared around town, sometimes with a bus load of school kids on board. And of course there have been those crazy stories reported on social media, showing little kids in China's villages smoking! My expat friend's six year old is always pretending to smoke, because well it's what you do... and it's what we did as kids in the 70's. When I queried one of the drivers about the severe pollution levels in China and whether or not he ever feels the need to wear a mask, he just laughed, albeit sheepishly. Why wear a mask when you smoke a pack a day. True that. It’s a cultural calamity, men everywhere are smoking. They hang about on corner streets, the cigarette a constant companion. They meander down alleyways, and gather around small rickety tables on miniature chairs playing mahjong, the cigarette a necessary accessory. Street cleaners in their orange is the new black uniforms, a broom made of spindly twigs in one hand, a cigarette in the other. At weddings or special events, I was always amused by the little bowl of ‘free flow’ cigarettes perched invitingly on the bar tables out the front. “Would you like a canapé or a cigarette with that?” In fact it's considered a sign of bad manners not to offer someone a cigarette when you light up. It’s still a perfectly acceptable form of “Guan xi” - given as a gift on many occasions in the professional world. Or as a bribe. Visiting the Longmen Grottoes in Luoyang, it’s 35 degrees and we are wandering aimlessly trying to find our way to a tourist hot spot. A hawker has his goods unravelled on the footpath to capture the weary tourist. We watch a golf buggy carrying two solemn police officers pull up… there’s an exchange of Chinese, I miss (obviously) but it wasn’t too hard to get the picture, “We’ll let this slide if you can give us a few ciggies, mate!” The hawker looked like he had just had a visit from the President himself. One officer saw me looking and attempted to pretend they weren’t about to take cigarettes in exchange for turning a blind eye. But as they drove off I saw them ferreting the cigarettes out of sight. Compared to China’s puffing billy males, just three percent of women smoke. Scarily though, the number is increasing amongst young women as smoking is seen as more glamorous and sophisticated. Some, particularly the older generations, comfort themselves with the popular Chinese myth, that smoking is somehow less hazardous for Asian people. The powers of ‘Mo gu’ - a black Chinese mushroom are still highly praised. A Chinese Traditional Medicine doctor tells me it's because they are cold and black and nurture the lungs like duck's blood. Cigarettes can be acquired at a much lower price than in most other countries, the cheapest pack is seven kuai (that’s around US74c) so there’s little to dissuade a smoker from buying them. Mind you, that price will also get you a bowl of noodles for dinner, so it’s all relevant. The Lancet medical journal warns if the current smoking rates prevail two million Chinese will die by 2030. China's National Health and Family Planning Commission is planning to implement a nation-wide ban on smoking in public places by the end of this year. But still, the World Health Organisation says only 25 per cent of Chinese adults have a comprehensive understanding of the health risks of smoking. It seems local doctors are among them. Figures show 60 per cent of doctors smoke, some while treating you! Advertising in mass media, in public places is (theoretically) banned and government party officials are banned from smoking during official activities -- but that's where it ends. In 16th Century China, tobacco was virtually unknown. In 1637 the last Ming Dynasty Emperor declared anyone caught selling tobacco would have their head removed. While that's clearly taking things a little too far, someone needs to butt in and give China's people some serious education. But just like a lot of bad habits in China, it’s going to take a little while for them to catch on and butt out. This is China. **This is an excerpt from my book (working title) #ThisisChina -- stay tuned for more. ;) … [Read more...]
Dear China, Thanks for the Memories!
Dear China, I feel like a bit of a traitor just taking off and leaving you like that but rest assured, while I've reached out to greener (fresher) pastures, you will not be forgotten. I want to thank you for taking me into your arms two and a half years ago when I was wide eyed and let’s face it, more than a little petrified as I stood in the rain, peering up at your famous 1300 year old Pagoda, opposite our new home (the hotel), trying to understand its significance. Your world looked anything but familiar to me, and that was (surprisingly) despite having lived in the oriental harbour city of Hong Kong for four years. I smiled through clenched teeth and fought back tears as I tried to stay calm for my excited but nervous three and a half year old, who was yet to comprehend why her old world had been replaced by this new, raw version of the Orient. Back then it felt like English was rarely spoken, even in the confines of the hotel, a conversation was, at best, challenging. I remember finding that one single foreigner working there and clinging to his words like bees to honey. Outside of the hotel bubble, those early months felt like I was treading water, desperately trying to stay afloat. Routine was everything, yet we had none. A trip to two “international” schools set up for those few expats in town and wealthy Chinese had me anxious when I learned five full days in class was the norm for my Small Person, one of the few Westerners on the block. A trip to my local hairdresser for an attempt at colouring my blonde hair had me in tears. Not because I’m vain (ok, maybe a little) but because it was then I realised I was completely alone and had no clue how to communicate my thoughts to a group of people looking at me like I really was an alien. Our first visa run had me in shock as we were shoved this way and that, poked and prodded in full view of a very inquisitive audience. A bizarre visit to the local doctor who asked me for advice on which drugs I needed and then wanted a photo together! It was all indicative of everything we attempted to do in a bid to set up a life in China, in those early days. Back then, I didn’t realise that while you boast the world’s second biggest economy and churn out much of the world’s goods not to mention the world’s most travellers ….. essentially much of you is still developing, still learning and still adapting to life in the 21st Century. I soon found out that you are a nation full of contradictions. Xi’an may have been your capital for 13 dynasties, but her lack of exposure to the modern world meant for the most part, you were still learning much of what the Western world had already conquered. I learned that despite how far you’ve come, authoritarian rule is still your preferred mode of governing. Censorship is par for the course. A quick Google soon confirmed that, as did watching my television go to black regularly, simply because it was something your government wanted to shield us from. Controls over things that involve people’s safety and livelihoods though seem minimal. Smoking is still in force like it’s the 1970’s… when it comes to the roads, rules are few and far between and riding motorbikes without a helmet, with phone and at least three or four passengers (including children) is completely normal. Pollution during those winter months is literally off the radar, at least north of the Yangtze River. When you walk outside and it smells and tastes like an incinerator and pollution levels are '20 times' the healthy limit, you have no choice but to shrug, put your mask on and get on with it -- as much as your head tells you, it’s a ludicrous way to live (and some locals will tell you to "go for a run, it'll strengthen your lungs")! I’ve learned to strategically avoid those small wet patches of spit that litter the ground; and not to bat an eyelid when I see small (and big people) relieving themselves, mid squat in the middle of a busy footpath. Fast forward almost three years and like a toddler emerging into childhood, I can appreciate you’re changing and developing at a rapid pace, perhaps unparalleled in world history. English doesn’t seem as hard to come by, both spoken and written… but perhaps that’s just because I’ve added a little bit of my own Chinese into the mix to help with our communication. Those things that seemed incredibly hard are still incredibly hard, but perhaps our indifference or constant exposure to it, has made it all the more bearable. They are now just "China moments." A city of nine million that had very few restaurants and bars outside those local watering holes overflowing with spicy noodles and bbq skewers now has an abundance of new hotspots of every flavour on every corner. There is an element of the West weaving its way into society, rightly or wrongly and the nouveau riche are dividing classes like never before. Despite the hairdresser telling me I’ve got "farmers hands" one day and am a little “alien” like the next, as he rifles through my shopping bags to see "what she buys", we have become firm friends. That day I cried, clearly still etched firmly in his mind he tells me, as he bids Small Person and I farewell with bear hugs and promises to visit Australia. Those hairy car rides to school no longer have me in a state of shock…. Frank (the driver) and I have settled into a comfortable daily routine. Every morning, come rain, hail, shine (or snow) he waits downstairs, standing at the car door, ready to greet us with a smiley “Zao Shang Hao” (Good Morning), helps to buckle Small Person in as she squirms and fidgets, and off we roar into the morning chaos... Despite never having spoken a word of English bar “Ok” - he quite possibly knows more about us and vice versa than either party would care to. We know he likes to put on the morning talkback shows in Chinese while he fiddles with his beads all the way to school, weaving in and out of tuk tuks, two wheelers, and overcrowded busses, beeping the horn with gusto. We know that after dropping us off, he’ll usually sneak in a cigarette at the bus stop until he sees me coming back and then does a six point turn in the middle of a crowded school street - traffic banks up, while I wait awkwardly at the side of the road, pretending it’s all completely normal. And it is. We have reached an 'unspoken understanding' and perhaps an appreciation of each other. That's evident when my girl draws him a goodbye picture and we give him some new beads. Then there’s the security guards at the school gate that greet me with a big hello and goodbye every day, proudly in their few English words… and once in an unexpected downpour, run out to the car with me holding an umbrella over my head…yet still won't let me inside the school gates unless my I.D is hanging around my neck. My last week in China was no different to the entire two and a half years… unpredictable and challenging! If nothing else China, you are consistent in that nothing is ever straightforward! A book interview with an American-English teacher in the north of the city; a lunch with school mums from China, America and Brazil at a kitsch Chinese restaurant, overflowing with statues, local red wine, a warm drink made from dates, Peking Duck and spicy noodles. All followed by a twenty minute wait in zero temperatures (outside the school gate) and then a regular school pick up that unexpectedly becomes the end of the school term, closing abruptly due to extreme pollution levels! This also unexpectedly makes it my Small Person’s last day, ever, so I'm forever grateful her teacher has the foresight to run out at the eleventh hour and get her a goodbye cake! Then a farewell night out that ended at a “Gentleman’s Club” which isn’t as risqué as you might think! Curious to see what it was all about…we enter the shiny, new establishment (one of many that has sprung up in our local neighbourhood) all in the name of checking out the "competition!" Chandeliers, leather sofas and karaoke (China’s other love). In the spirit of a 'proper' Chinese night out, we find ourselves agreeing to hit up the microphone with a few tunes. A dozen beers are delivered and then... as an added bonus, we're treated to a line up of suitable men of all 'shapes and sizes' to choose from (including the token 'foreigner' who hails from Kazakstan)!! All for ‘company’ we're told…or as we soon find out in between giggles, a university student to sit amongst our group, make strained conversation, drink our beer, smoke cigarettes and sing the odd Chinese pop song! China, you will forever have me bamboozled by your extremes - from the overwhelming poverty that envelopes you, to the ever-increasing number of Rolls Royces cruising the streets; to the intense effort given to academic education yet lack of life guidance; to the seemingly selfish public acts yet incredible acts of kindness, to the strict censorship but overly flexible road rules; the human trafficking and domestic violence but feeling of peace and safety on the streets, to the emphasis on Guanxi (networking) and family but the inability to lose face…and those layers upon layers of ‘bureaucracy!’ China, both your complex and simple personality traits have made it possible for me to love you, yet loathe you - all in the same breath. But just as you’re changing, I hope that I am too. Still fresh out of your grip, it’s too soon to tell how you've changed me. Only time will tell. One thing’s for sure, you’ve taught me to be more open and tolerant and definitely not to sweat the small stuff. I’ve learned that trying to understand cultural differences, nuances and a country’s history is not always easy but it is the key to understanding a nation and every thread that intertwines to makes up the fabric of your society is to be appreciated. Your spirit and strength in overcoming a recent history of oppression and poverty is admirable. As different as China can at times seem from the world in which we know, and as much as that old mantra, ‘survival of the fittest’ still rings true for many of you….there is no mistaking, you have a nation of people only too willing to show an outsider kindness. And that for me, has counted for a lot. (If only someone had told us what's in the tap water sooner!) ;) It's not goodbye, it's see you later! This is China …. and you’ve stolen a little piece of my heart. … [Read more...]
China’s Little Emperors – Victims of the One Child Policy?
Written by Chao Huang Edited by Nicole Webb An eight second video clip featuring a boy around ten kicking his mum five times because she wouldn't let him play on her phone has gone viral on Chinese social media, much to the disgust of netizens. The shocking video was taken in a Guangzhou hospital in China’s south. In it you see the boy’s grandmother trying to block the little boy from attacking his mum. This is by no means an isolated story in China. With over three decades of the “One Child Policy” there’s a popular belief that China is bringing up a nation of ‘Little Emperors' and ‘Little Princesses.’ In fact the Little Emperor Syndrome is a genuine phenomenon and many parents have been accused of being unable to discipline their kids. Another video that went viral last November shows a young graduate beating up an older couple in the street, right outside a real estate showroom in Harbin, China’s north. It turns out, the older couple were, in fact, his parents. The mandatory and customary wedding gift given in China from the grooms’ parents of an apartment just wasn’t up to scratch. “Too small and embarrassing,” according to their spoiled son. Of course all kids (and some grown ups) are liable to have a meltdown at one time or another, and there are plenty of one child families, my current situation included, so what’s so different about China? In 1979, the one-child policy was introduced to slowdown China’s soaring population in what was then a very poor country. In order to comply with Chairman Mao's "Human Resources Are Power" philosophy, most families had multiple children but many were struggling to raise them. Growth was out of control, leaping nearly 75% from 1949 to 1976; its per capita income was about 300 yuan, or just over $48. Without the policy, China's population today would have been well over the 1.4-billion it is. While each couple was restricted to one child, there were exceptions to the rule! Couples could apply to have a second child if their first child was disabled, they were of ethnic minority or farmers in rural areas. Or, if your first child was a girl, you were given leniences. My personal story can attest to it, thanks to me being a girl, our family got a permit seven years after I was born to have their second child. My little brother, you are welcome. ;) In the cities though, family-planning regulations were strictly enforced. Couples who ended up having one child were granted an ‘Honorary One Child Certificate’ while couples who violated the policy faced high fines, loss of employment and often forced abortions. Mind you, many richer families could have another child by simply paying the high fine. Lasting more than three decades the policy has long been steeped in controversy. It’s been well documented that it led to abortions, female infanticide (from the traditional Chinese point of view, having a boy was superior) and the under-reporting of births - especially girls. It was also implicated as a cause of the stagnant birthrate, gender imbalance and much more. Many studies done on China’s ageing population and starkly low birth rate show the fertility rate in Beijing and Shanghai is about 0.7 – far below the national figure of about 1.5 and far, far below the replacement level of 2.1 children per woman. This generation of only children from the 1980s and ‘90s have now reached adulthood and many have become parents themselves. Most of the newlyweds and budding couples have no siblings, leading to what has been dubbed the "4-2-1 syndrome.” Four grandparents at the bottom, two precious parents in the middle and one priceless “Little Emperor” ruling at the top. With them all often living under the same roof there’s a definite element of “helicopter” parenting. These little ones are waited on hand and foot, wrapped in cotton wool right up until they get married and have their own children. These so called Little Emperors have also been forced to bear the burden of heavy expectations, particularly by parents and grandparents who feel they lost their chance in the Cultural Revolution. Often the grandparents are the ones doing the nurturing while the parents work and some say they tend to let them get away with blue murder. There is immense pressure on these only children to succeed academically in today’s competitive society of 1.4 billion - and it’s common for nearly half a family's income to be spent on a child’s education. Parents struggle to distance themselves from their kid’s success and with so much emphasis on educating their “precious commodities”, there’s not enough time spent on guidance and manners. As much as I believe the Chinese tradition of molly-coddling the child also plays a big part, researchers have proven the theory that sibling “deprivation” alters the relationships with parents and changes the way a child develops. And the stories of unruly, out of control kids, like those mentioned earlier are not uncommon at all. This kind of small-sized, pyramid-like family structure, together with a dramatic increase in wealth has “produced significantly less trusting, less trustworthy, more risk-averse, less competitive, more pessimistic, and less conscientious individuals,” according to an article in the prestigious journal Science. The introduction of the two child policy last year, after 35 years, has been seen by many as too little, too late, with a rapidly ageing population, under supply of young workers and over supply of males to females. Many couples don’t want a second child, fearing they can’t afford it in today’s high pressured society and they admit they also worry about giving more than one child enough attention. The name “Fuerdai” has been given to older generations of the policy, which translates as “rich second generation” or those kids of the nouveau riche. Labelled ‘spoilt brats’ President Xi Jinping has even called for national effort to make them appreciate where money comes from. Needless to say, the majority of grown up only children in China are decent, hard working people who got the best education in the world under an entire family’s support. But being the only one in your generation means your children don't have many cousins or extended families — isn’t that kind of sad? One of the biggest issues for only children in China is who will look after the elderly. It’s generally non-negotiable in China that as parents age, their children will bear the responsibility of looking after them, both financially, physically and mentally. The new 4:2:1 syndrome places a huge sense of responsibility on only children. Many wish they had other siblings as so called “Back up.” China believes the policy has prevented 400-million births, contributing to China’s unparalleled economy growth and development since the 1980’s. But others have called it China’s most radical experiment in social engineering - the media dubbing its Little Emperors, China’s loneliest generation. … [Read more...]