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to stay calm for my excited but nervous three and a half year old, who was yet to comprehend why her old world had been replaced by this new, raw version of the Orient.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...]
When Two Worlds Collide — Your Perception is Your Reality!
At the start of my Chinese class each week, my tutor asks me if I have any questions. Usually I have a bunch of things I want to say and need to know the best way to go about it. This week at the top of my list was the word “disgusting.” I immediately feel bad when I ask her. My eyes dart sheepishly to the floor. “Of course I don’t want to use it, not really,” I say…back pedalling faster than a fox in a lion’s den. “I just want to know if there’s a word for it, you know, just in case," I stammer. I can almost feel her heavy sigh…reverberating through my own body. Living in China, I am forced to constantly remind myself that what often seems inappropriate in my culture is certainly not in others. Of course, on this particular occasion, I’m thinking about my recent flight south to Guangzhou, which is when I found myself mentally searching for the Chinese equivalent of “disgusting.” On the trip down, a lady next to me proceeded to spit at random intervals into a paper bag, pulled from the seat pocket. She made no moves to disguise what she was doing and I guess I should be thankful she used a bag! And of course, no one but me batted an eyelid. Why would they? Spitting has been a 'thing' the world over since the dark ages and in China today, a good hoick (that's Aussie slang for spit) is largely par for the course. On my flight home, to Xi’an, a man next to me continuously made that loud, (to my untrained ears) cringe-worthy, hacking sound with this throat, you know, that guttural sound that signifies the build up of bodily fluids. I was tempted to reach over and pull out his paper bag! I desperately wanted to tell him to stop, because, well… it sounded “disgusting.” I didn’t though, mainly because I didn’t know the words — but mostly because I know to him it’s nothing of the sorts….and I was pretty sure I was also completely outnumbered in my disgust, as the only westerner on the plane! It begs the question about whether the belief that “it’s better out than in” is warranted. Given the amount of polluted air I’ve no doubt inhaled in the last few weeks as winter descends rapidly upon us, while I can’t quite bring myself to ‘flob’ on the ground, in a paper bag (or the floating candles in the hotel lobby for that matter - yes that's happened!) I am inclined to agree somewhat with the theory. Unfortunately, while the jury is still out, most evidence points to the fact that spitting does spread airborne diseases like tuberculosis, pneumonia and bronchitis. My tutor does agree that spitting on the footpath is “not so nice” but says it’s hard to educate the older generations. In many ways, she's right. I used to frown and shake my head profusely when I would see an elderly person or just for the record, a middle aged and often young person, spit directly in my line of sight…. suddenly causing me to veer sharply off my path to avoid colliding with said spittle. Now I realise it’s probably futile…locals have no idea why the strange, white woman is screwing up her face like a donkey’s ass, gesturing madly. Is she having conniptions? Does she need the toilet herself? "Spitting, my friends, is a sign of healthy lungs!" They proudly say. For me, living in China, it's often a case of two worlds colliding -- sometimes the clashing of my moral high ground with reality rumbles a little louder. The glamorous lady teetering on high heels up the main drag, so busy staring at my small person and I - with a cigarette swinging frantically in her pursed lips, as she shouts “Piaoliang!” (Beautiful) through her clenched teeth at my little blondie — all the while seemingly oblivious to the fact her own child is up against a tree, relieving himself in full view of a swarm of motorists and passersby on a busy tourist stretch. Or the car stopped outside the hotel, doors flung open, traffic banking up behind, daddy holding little Daisy over the gutter. “When you’ve gotta go….” Or how about the motorbike that ‘had to be seen to be believed’ this morning, it’s baskets front and back, piled high with dead chooks, feathers floating into the air. Disgusting right? Only to me, the lone foreigner traversing the morning traffic. And the toilets and their often obscene state which had my conference colleagues recoiling in horror. To my tutor’s credit, she immediately turns the conversation onto us unyielding foreigners. Do we really blow our nose, loudly in public? She questions! I have to think about that. Yes, well….um — she cuts in, crinkles up her nose and tells me about a time at the dinner table in Australia, when a man took out a tissue and makes a jolly old show, raucously relieving the contents of his nose like a foghorn into a tissue! And then put it back into his pocket! Disgusting right? Errr well…. I suppose it is. I nod meekly. After all your perception is your reality. And every culture is different. This is China. … [Read more...]
China’s Culture Club: Flower Power, Fruit Platters and Laughing Gas!
From the outside, it looks like it could quite easily be a quaint British pub. Of course, finding said venue in the middle of China is debatable, but for a few split seconds we kid ourselves, this cute and cosy taverna is just a hop, skip and a jump up the road. It’s definitely the flowers, draping prettily from the wooden cottage-like exterior that has us in denial. Cute little chairs and tables perch on the balcony, and you can imagine sitting there on a balmy summer’s evening (perhaps a little cooler than the current 35). Called Harbour City, about now, dripping with the effects of humidity, we are desperately wishing Xi’an was….in fact a harbour city. Let me not digress though with talk of the incessant heat that’s plagued the city for weeks. Back to the ‘pub’ up the road - clearly, the flowery theme was just a pre-cursor of what was to come! Stepping inside, it's like stepping into another world! At first glance, it looks like a wedding reception in complete over drive. My eyes boggle in awe. Gigantic, fresh floral arrangements hang from the ceiling, decorating candelabras and chandeliers in extraordinary fashion. Scenes from the Great Gatsby swirl through my head, as we’re ushered through the crowds. All eyes on us. The only white people in the venue (and potentially the oldest)! I half expect someone to come swinging down from the roof, aka Nicole Kidman style in Moulin Rouge! Whatever Harbour City is doing, after a month in business it seems they’ve got something right. Looking ever so sophisticated, this “bar” in the middle of Xi’an…a place where you can be forgiven for thinking most locals are more interested in snacking on over-sized bowls of cold noodles in the street on a Friday night…is heaving with people. The waiters hastily kick a staff member from a high bench table, tucked in beside the bar, for us to take our places in this outlandish scene. (Never mind the stools are actually chained to the table, as long as it's not us, I think.) Three (yes three) waiters bring a menu to us… of course the entire thing is in Chinese characters, which isn’t going to do us mere foreigners any favours. It's soon clear no English is spoken, so after looking blankly at the menu, in my best Chinese, I ask if they have ‘bai pu tao jiu’…white wine, to which they nod enthusiastically. Pointing to three options (again in Chinese) it’s a case of ‘eny meeny miny moe!’ Turns out ordering a 'glass' of wine is simply not an option, so a bottle it is! Regular wine is still a bit of an enigma in much of China’s bars….especially white wine. So it comes as no surprise when the bottle that arrives, is indeed red. Poured ever so carefully into a sleek glass decanter, we are dispatched with large wine glasses, two shot glasses of warm water and two cans of Sprite?! Ice is poured into our wine glasses and swished around for a good thirty seconds in what looks to be a rather high tech procedure. (Who doesn't like a good red wine on ice!! 8-O ) Next minute, an old school, silver bell is put in front of us. We assume this is to call someone when we are in need of attention (should they hear us over the loud rumbling of music). I look around at other tables…most are furnished with buckets of beer. There are VIP ‘minimum spend ‘tables boasting glowing buckets of beer stashed under the table and about a dozen Coronas lined up on the table. In China this is seen as a show of great prestige! There are also artistically carved fruit platters decorating many a table! Forget about the cheese platter or peanuts and chips. Another sign of distinction in China appears to be fruit or 'fruits' as they're more commonly known! A lady comes around selling cigarettes and cigars. Even though China authorities have banned indoor smoking, the rules are having little impact on China's 350-million smokers. The band is singing a mix of western and Chinese songs. The first song we hear is a Natalie Imbruglia tune. To hear an Aussie singer’s hit being belted out in the middle of China, is at the very least, freakishly fantastic! I wonder what most of the people in the bar think when they can’t understand the words. Does the song resonate at all? I seem to be the only one having a sly boogie...that is... until one of the many cleaning ladies, quietly pottering around, spies me and gives me a little shimmy with a cheeky laugh. A Lady Gaga song reigns out….no one is dancing though, then two of the band members are up on podiums in the middle of the club cranking out a local Asian song. Everyone gets up, mimicking the dance moves with all the energy they can muster! Some are playing a popular Chinese drinking game at their tables called ‘Liar's dice!’ About now, a waiter pops over and grabs a shot glass, proceeds to pour himself a glass of OUR red wine toasting us, knocking it back like a shot!! Cheers or "Gan bei!" he smiles. And just like that, he swaggers off, while we watch after him, highly amused. There’s a table of guys with balloons. Naturally, at first, we assume they’re blowing up balloons for their celebration… just quietly, I think it’s bit late for the party, but anyway… The thing is they keep sucking the air out of the balloons, so we start to wonder what the point in that might be! There’s also something on the table that looks remarkably like a whipped cream canister. They appear to be endlessly unscrewing and screwing a capsule that resembles a silver bullet and then attaching the balloon to the canister in earnest. Amused and perplexed we watch on as another table of girls, who’ve spent all night taking selfies, barely speaking to each other, start up on the balloons. By now I'll admit we’re completely bamboozled. I realise it’s potentially been awhile since I’ve been to a club, as such, and this is definitely no English country pub, flowers or not.. I try not to stare.......well maybe just a little. A quick Google tells us, this is indeed a craze involving inhaling nitrous oxide, otherwise known as ‘laughing gas’!! Ah ha!! Apparently it makes you feel euphoric and relaxed, for about ten seconds! Mystery solved. A little reluctantly, we emerge at around 1130…early birds I know…and who knows what happens in there as the night goes on, but I spy the champagne starting to flow. It’s 32 degrees….hot and humid…. we walk the five minutes home to the hotel. A three wheeler bike cruises past in the dark, three people are half dressed, bouncing a naked baby in the air, as they scoot past. We giggle…and they giggle back, no doubt finding us an equally odd spectacle! This is China. … [Read more...]