China Bits

Haze, a skyscraper under construction: a bit of China

BY WAY OF A PREFACE


It's been more than a year now since I posted on this blog. Now it's time to get back to it and to provide some background about why I've not been writing.

I have several excuses. One, pure laziness: writing is work. Second, Iowa Laoshi in the Middle Kingdom has written so well about many of our experiences here in China that I don't believe that I can add much more than "yea". And finally--and most distressingly--I feel that I don't really know much about China.

We've been living in China for over a year now, and I'd logged some time in earlier visits before moving here. But unlike our experience in India, where we lived in a family compound (in a guest apartment), worked in Indian workplaces, and spoke a local language (English), we've none of that here. Of course, we didn't get far with our Hindi (and nowhere with our Malayalam), but where we lived and worked, the locals spoke English, often extremely well. In China, C works in an English-language school that consists of all English-speakers except for the janitorial staff. (Even the Australians and New Zealanders speak English, although sometimes I wonder with those accents and strange turnes-of-phrase.) I work at home, so I have not regular social contact with locals. Smiles and a Chinese "hello" ("ni hao"), along with ordering some of my favorite dishes at the local noodle shop, are my most extensive local interactions. I volunteer as a coach at the school, but I can teach basketball and volleyball in English (and most of the players are Korean  anyway). Add to this the observations of our eldest, who's spent a long time in China and who speaks the language well, that trying to get to the heart of Chinese society is like trying to to peel to the center of an onion. A very large onion. I've been discouraged.

However, I realized that while my direct understanding will be limited, I still observe things. To borrow the term that Temple Grandin used to describe herself to Oliver Sacks, I can be an "anthropologist on Mars". I won't be able to ask questions or discover explanations, but I can describe from the outside what I percieve and ponder.

And so I'll try to do this in small chunks. It will be bits of China, short observations (barring some great revelations). Thus, I'll introduce such pieces as "China Bits", bite-sized observations and reflections to whet the appetite. For real insight and deep consideration--to provide real nutritional value--you'll have to turn elsewhere. But if nothing else, I hope that I'll provoke some curiosity and further inquiry. 

Dress Codes and Other Observations from Suzhou

Images of the winning team

Dress Code. One of the immediately apparent differences between China and India is between the types of clothing that women and men wear. Indian women, in both the north and the south, usually dressed in local costume. That is, usually in a sari, salwar kameez, or kurta. Only in some sections of Delhi or other of the largest cities (or in Bollywood photo shoots) would you ever see a (young) woman in a skirt or shorts or revealing any leg. The clothing is is marked by vibrant colors and lots of decoration. Jewelry is very prominent. In China, on the other hand, one rarely sees anything that I'd call traditional or local costume on men or women. The women tend to wear western-style clothing with skirts, dresses, or shorts with high hemlines. Having spent so much time in India, the sight of females with legs almost came as a shock. I perceive no difference in women's clothing from that worn in the contemporary West. Chinese men get the most boring clothes award, about as bad as contemporary Western males. In India, the more educated and well-to-do dressed in a Western style, but often with some Indian flare. In the north you'd see stylish kurtas on men and in the south, many men wore longis (man-skirts; long or above the knee, depending on taste). Thus, in a head-to-head match-up of India and China re dress, India wins.

N.B. The number and ease of women in the public spaces in China compared to India deserves a complete post of its own. I perceive a huge difference. 

Everyday wear in Kerala, this is a mundu (a white longi)

Decked out to be checked out in a sherwani

Firecracker 500. Some mornings here--before 8 in the morning--I'll hear bursts of firecrackers go off in our compound. I do not know the occasions. A wedding announcement? The anniversary of a death? The birth of a child? I don't know. Such events seem entirely random to me. Since we have a number of multi-story buildings in our compound, we get quite an echo effect.Howver, let me assure that nothing has matched--or can match?--Jaipur during Devali. Now that was a lot of fireworks, by everyone, everywhere in the city, all night. We'll have to see how Chinese New Year shapes-up.

Learning Mandarin. So far my efforts have been self-taught and computer-assisted only. It's a matter of baby-steps. The first thing that I'm trying to do (per the advice of those who've given the matter series consideration) is to learn the Pinyan system of sounds and tones. (Mandarin is a four tone language.) I'm trying out small phrases here and there as the situation allows. I'll keep readers posted, but it's not easy, and we do miss the Glamorous Nomad's help. For my lunch outings, pointing is still my best bet!








     

Shirtless in Suzhou & Other Observations from Suzhou

"Shirtless in Suzhou" or "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem". Some little cultural differences that one observes from time to time in a foreign country really strike us. In this case, I'm referring to the fact that in hot weather one sees some Chinese men pull up the their shirts to bare their midriff, or they completely remove their shirts. I haven't seen this phenomena much here in the Chinese burbs, but I have seen it here and in Chengdu. It's not something you see a lot of, but you do see it, and for obvious reasons, I couldn't resist the first alternative title. And I have to admit, I haven't seen anyone shoeless in a restaurant, so I admit to some artistic license with the second alternative title. I haven't done this, and I won't until I have those 6-pack abs. You can breath easy now. And for what I hope are apparent reasons, no photos with this piece.

"Let me point something out to you."Today I went to lunch and to the cleaners for the first time here without the Glamorous Nomad as my interpreter and guide. To say that my Mandarin is not up to these tasks is an understatement the size of Mt. Everest. But I find that resort to the universal language of pointing and grunting can work. Based on a picture in the restaurant, I received a delicious bowl of noodles, the specialty of the house at my favorite neighborhood eatery. As for the laundry, I'm hoping that they got my sign language that one set of clothes needed ironing only (back and forth with the hand) and the other needed washing and ironing (making a hand-washing motion followed by an ironing motion). Time will tell. Anyway, the opportunities for miscommunication are rife, but with my current (miniscule) level of Mandarin, it's all we've got. (Technology fails us here, as C recruited the GN to give us the phrases, but my phone is in the shop getting gerry-rigged for China, thus leaving me bereft of guidance.)

Check this out:  These photos from The Atlantic online provide a glimpse of 21st century China. China isn't not quite as diverse as India, in that it's much more modernized for the most part, but it is an ancient culture and one in amazing transition such that no particular scene seems out of place. We haven't been here for long, but you don't need to be here long to get a sense of "yup, that's what we see".

Cool, cool water. At home, that is, not from a Chinese home or restaurant. While the hot, sultry days of last week made cool water from the frig a must, when I was out at our local coffee shop (NB: coffee shop, not tea house) and I'd finished a delicious panna cotta, the barrista gave me a glass of warm water. That's the Chinese way. They don't think cold water a good idea, even in warm weather. Needless to say, I found that first sip a bit disconcerting, yet I've lived to tell the story. I think that the difference comes out of Chinese traditional medicine. Just another one of those little cultural differences.

Dream Living

Do you recognize this skyline?

Before we left for China we spent several days with friends who live in the far north side Chicago burbs. For the most part, the weather was mild, the scenery green, and the people tame. As you ride the train to downtown Chicago, you view the pristine towns along the way. Sometimes the facades seem too perfect, but nothing's perfect. The towns seduce you as if a part of Norman Rockwell's America. A walk to the lakeshore revealed beautiful, manicured homes from around the turn of the century built by Gilded Age businessmen to escape the heat and bustle of the city. The houses—only houses—were all single-family. When it comes to material well-being, this is an alluring example of the American Dream. (These folks do have to put up with harsh winter weather. As I said, nothing's perfect.)

From our bedroom window in the Chinese burbs

Now we're in China, where we get to see the Chinese Dream. We didn't appreciate this until the Glamorous Nomad* noted that she enjoyed staying in the "suburbs". "Suburbs"? All around us are high-rises and not a single-family dwelling in sight. Yet, on further reflection, she's right. Wide boulevards, manicured greenery, and modern amenities make this area into the burbs, China-style.
Our apartment, on the sixth floor of a 22-story high-rise, is brand new. We're the first inhabitants. Everything is in good working order, and as a special treat, all the knobs are solid and hinges don't squeak. C has decorated with a mix of Indian and Chinese motifs, and I'm looking for a Tibetan thangka to grace a wall, but we’re doing well on the move-in.

Our compound (gated & fenced) with manicured greenery & walkways. Very nice.

Can China sustain and continue the Chinese Dream along these lines? This is a huge question for them and for the rest of the world. But for now, they're doing well indeed.

*The Glamorous Nomad, or has she’s designated in China, “Number one daughter”, is currently our special house guest, welcome-to-China interpreter, and guide extraordinaire.

Swaraj by Arvind Kejriwal

Since arriving in India in the fall of 2012, the continuing complaint we hear from locals, as well as in the press, is about corruption. From public opinion leaders to ordinary persons, many Indians believe that corruption cripples this great country. While many traits and trends hinder India, there is no doubt that corruption presents a major ongoing problem. 

Just before we arrived, a groundswell of anti-corruption demonstrations erupted nation-wide. Anna Hazare, the prophet of the movement, set the tone. As with many movements in democratic society, the success of the movement depends on a successful translation to electoral politics. Arvind Kejriwal, a former government worker, has provided the practical political guidance for organizing Hazare’s moral outrage. Kejriwal led the way by starting a new political party, the Aam Aadmi Party (Common Man [sic] Party). In elections held in Delhi toward the end of last year, the Aam Aadmi Party led by Kejriwal scored impressively, and Kejriwal was asked to form a government. The government (coalition-based) didn’t last long. Like many new, outsider parties, they found governing much more challenging than campaigning. 

Before taking up governance, Kejriwal wrote Swaraj. Swaraj is the term that Gandhi coined for “self-rule”, and it served as a theme for the independence movement. Kejriwal uses swaraj as a rallying cry for the anti-corruption movement. Kejriwal argues that the nation needs to make major changes at the level of the panchayats (village or district councils). He argues that the panchayats foster corruption but have little power. Thus, a structure for decentralized decision-making becomes a vehicle of corruption.

Kejriwal’s book describes incidents of corruption and how the system fails to deal with such incidents. He points to examples of success in stemming corruption. He also details steps needed to make the system more responsive and less corrupt. I don’t have the knowledge to know whether his diagnosis centered on the panchayats is accurate—although the diagnosis of corruption seems unassailable—and whether his prescription will work if applied. The crucial remaining issue is whether the patient will take the medicine. Corruption exists because some, albeit a very few, benefit from it. The major parties, Congress (now ruling and most rife with corruption) and BJP (the party likely to form a new government this spring), both have long histories of problems and seem little interested in rooting out corruption. The upcoming elections have forced some acknowledgement of the problem by these two parties, but I get the sense that too many powerful leaders are happy to maintain the status quo. 

Kejriwal’s book raises an important question: whether a democracy such as India can address corruption as effectively as authoritarian China. The current leadership in Beijing has made a show of its intention to quell corruption (at least below the highest levels). We don’t know how successful they will be, but with a judicial system that’s less than meticulous about due process, Chinese efforts could prove effective. India, on the other hand, because of the dispersion of political power and the need for coalition building, may have a much more difficult time rooting out corruption even if the central government commits to doing so. Democratic government can root out corruption for the most part (the exception of Illinois and Chicago noted!), but it takes an effort. In the U.S., the Progressive movement, arising out of a growing middle-class, attacked and eventually took down political machines like Tammany Hall, but the question remains whether India’s middle class has grown enough to overcome the inertia of caste and class voting that remains the norm here for many voters. 

I hope that Kejriwal is correct in his diagnosis and that a cure—or at least limiting of the worst symptoms—succeeds.

Anne's Post-JLF Interview 2014

Anne, a/k/a The Glamorous Nomad, gracing a sari

On January 26, I sat down with Anne (a/k/a “The Glamorous Nomad”) on our balcony in Trivandrum to discuss her experience at the Jaipur Literature Festival. Anne had not been able to join us last year, so I first wanted to ask her about her expectations. She confirmed my suspicions by reporting that her “expectations were high because of all the praise that she had heard from us from the previous year.” She expected the panels to be interesting as she looked at the program carefully before coming, and she’d planned her schedule carefully. She had no idea how it would all work out at Diggi Palace, and she found it very crowded. The chai at Diggi Palace was perhaps the best surprise. 

I asked her to compare this to her academic conference experiences (she’s a Ph.D. candidate in Political Science). Anne reported that this was a much more enjoyable experience because she wasn’t under an obligation to present a paper or to respond critically to any presentations. She also noted that the quality of the speaking was higher, although there were places where she thought there was a bit too much of poetic license or sophistry. She expressed her agreement with author-presenter  Antony Beevor that nonfiction must be distinguished from historical fiction. An example she provided of this is Rana Dasguta’s Capital, his new book about Delhi. Anne reported that it was “beautifully written, but I wonder if his style convinces when I’m not sure that there’s a cohesive argument being made.” In one of his talks, Dasguta claimed that partition was not so much motivated by hatred as by love and fear. Anne found this an interesting thought, but one not supported by any data or extended argument to support his conclusion.

 I asked Anne to comment further about the difference between academic writing and general non-fiction writing that was a popular subject of discussion at JLF this year. She responded bluntly, “Most academic writing is boring and suffers from cumbersome citations. Nonfiction for the general audience, on the other hand, enjoys a different audience and, therefore, a different format for addressing issues of documentation. Although nonfiction won’t normally use the cumbersome citation systems of academic writing, good nonfiction does validate its claims with endnotes, bibliographies, and the like.” I noted that legal writing often suffers from the same problem of burdensome citations that break up the flow of an argument.

I asked Anne for her opinions about the format of the sessions. Anne commented that there were a number of different formats. In one session, Gloria Steinem and Ruchira Gupta held a one-on-one conversation. In another, Michael Sandel conducted a Socratic question-and-answer session involving the entire audience. In still another, William Dalrymple interviewed Rana Dasgupta., author of Capital, in a one-on-one session. The keynote, of course, was a solo venture by Nobel economist Amartya Sen. Finally, there were a number of panels. Some became unfocused and sometimes left  some members aside. However, she noted a happy exception to this flaw in the panel about Afghanistan, which she found extremely informative.

Asked about her discoveries at JLF, the first thing Anne noted was a “rediscovery” She had heard Gloria Steinem speak about 12 years ago when she was a student at Barnard College. She admitted to having forgotten how wonderful and inspirational she found that talk. She had read Amartya Sen before hearing him speak in person, but hearing him speak in person was a true delight.

Asked about any new reading experiences arising out of JLF and she reported that she’d read Maaza Mengiste’s Beneath the Lion’s Gaze about the Ethiopian Civil War in advance of JLF, and after learning about Capital, she is already out well into it and enjoying it very much. She hopes to read by books by Taiye Selasie and Nadifa Mohamed as well. She admitted not to having read any William Dalrymple before, except perhaps for some chapters from Nine Lives. She reported she hopes to cure that however by reading The Return of the King, which she purchased that JLF. Anne estimates that she bought a total of 12 or 13 books at JLF  that she will be shipping back to her apartment in China for happy reading during the course of the coming year there.

I ask her about any disappointments, and she quickly volunteered a presentation by John Ralston Saul, which was a dialogue with Hubert Vedrine. It started out with Saul trashing the work of Francis Fukuyama ( specifically The End of History and the Last Man) and Samuel Huntington’s work The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of the World Order.) Anne found this irritating and defamatory and left after about five minutes. (This interviewer stayed for the entire session and asked a question following the presentation that led Saul and Vedrine to back off some of their criticisms of Fukuyama. Saul also appeared in a dialogue with Michael Sandel the following day that was much less inflammatory.)

I asked Anne for her recommendation to future JLF attendees. Her advice was succinct: “Bring a warm coat, read some of the books ahead of time (two or three should be enough), come early enough to get a good seat, and enjoy Jaipur.”

I turn the conversation then to Anne’s special interest, China, and its presence and absence the JLF. Anne noted that China scholar Rana Mitter presented a very fine talk regarding his book about China in the Second World War. Mitter also presented at the panel titled “Who Will Rule the World in the 21^st Century?”. Anne found this a disconcerting title and the panel discussion unfocused. However, she again found Mitter quite well spoken and articulate in his knowledge about China. She was surprised that otherwise there was not much the China representation other than one fiction writer. She noted a lack of Chinese attending JLF.  She related an interesting anecdote on that topic that arose from JLF. While waiting in a cue for the ladies room, she met an Indian woman who asked where she was from. This is not an easy question for Anne to answer given her rather extensive travel itinerary in the last year. Anne responded that she is from America, but she had traveled to India from Ethiopia, and before Ethiopia from China (apparently choosing to leave out Vietnam to avoid further confusion). The conversation partner reported that  she was in English literature Ph.D. student in Jaipur. She then asked Anne if the Chinese government was as oppressive as it is made out to be. Anne remarked that she pondered carefully how to answer the question and came up with, “Yes and no. The government can be intrusive and abusive in some instances, but in daily life, things are pretty good except for the pollution”. Anne wondered what kind of coverage China receives in the Indian media.

This led me to ask her about a comparison of China and India. Anne replied that there is very little interest about India in China. She is never heard any Chinese discuss India unless she happened to raise it  because of the fact that her parents are currently residing in India and that she been to India now three times to visit. The Chinese do not see India as a rising superpower. Indeed, perhaps the most frequent comment that she hears is that Chinese do not like the Indian palate. On the other hand, almost all Chinese are intensely interested in the US and other OCED countries, including those of Western Europe. China is certainly in the throes of super capitalism. Anne noted that buildings in China are named things like “The American Dream Apartment Complex” or “Paris Life”. People will decorate in a French Baroque style and  borrow the status symbols and vocabulary of wealth from the American and European world. Many of the rising Chinese middle class are engaging more and more and tourism, but  the last place they seem to be interested in going is India. Anne suspects that it’s too close to the poverty that they only recently left behind. This is especially true of people over 40.

I then asked and to put on her hat to comment on the difference between India and China, and her immediate response was  that she wears two different hats, one “personal” hat, and the other her “social scientist hat”. Using her social scientist eye, she noted that median PCI (per capita income) is vastly lower in India than it is in China. Everything in China is newer, safer, and more efficient, including its infrastructure (at least for now). Indian culture seems to have co-evolved with global capitalism in way that China hasn’t. A distinct Indian cinema, Indian dress, Indian religion, Indian crafts, and other manifestations of native Indian culture survive, but such arts have not survived nearly so well in China. In addition, India enjoys a greater degree of freedom of speech and overall a greater cultural vibrancy. China, on the other hand, has much less of a public culture. She remarked it between the 1950s and 1970s, China wiped out much of its traditional culture. In fact, if you want to enjoy traditional Chinese culture, you’re better going off going to Taiwan than to the Chinese mainland. India, compared to China, is much less westernized and Americanized and has retained more of its uniqueness. The one difference may be that China has retained its language, while India has adopted more to English as a global medium, which is to its advantage.

Finally, I ask and for her reading recommendations. She listed the following:

•  Beneath the Lion’s Gaze by Maaza Mengiste. This is a novel about the 1972 communist coup and the following Red Terror. Anne found it a brilliant novel that blends interesting insights about politics and human rights issues through  the use of a strong storytelling capability.
• Capital by Rana Dasgupta. Anne is not finished it yet, but she want to reiterate that it is a beautifully written book.
• The Map Of The Invisible World by Tash Aw is written about “ the year of living dangerously” in Indonesia. This occurred in 1963 when Sukarno was deposed from power. Anne found it a rewarding work about  revolution, family, and identity in a postcolonial context.

I wrapped up my interview with and by thanking her for sharing her thought her insights. I wished her well on her travels that would be taking her to Bangladesh, Seattle, Chicago, and back to her temporary home in Chengdu, Szechuan, China. Happy travels, Anne!