One of the things that I love about living overseas are the small differences between Western and Chinese culture that are constantly on display. People are people everywhere and most of us have the same basic desires, and yet there can be wide chasms between us that prevent us from understanding each other. It is these differences that I am constantly bombarded with that are the most interesting things about living in Beijing. Small actions that people take can be clues to a broader historical context. I will try to note them here when I see them.

For instance, today when I was on the train at rush hour, I had to literally fight may way into and out of every train, nearly knocking over young people, old folks, men and women alike, or I would never get where I was going. Nobody will make way for you and people will push you down to get where they need to go. Just staying upright is a constant battle.

And it is not confined to jockeying for position within trains. I had to switch lines today and even the simple act of walking through hallways and down a flight of stairs can become a full-contact sport as people rush to get by you (no matter how fast you are moving there is always somebody trying to go faster), try to get a better position in line or just plan don’t want to be stuck behind you.

It all got me to thinking: Where does this come from?

Sure, there are people who push and shove back in the US, but as a society, we tend to wait in relatively orderly lines and move in a common fashion that allows for the right of way to go to the person who is in front of you.

Generally.

But this all flies out the window here in China. Lines are anathema here. Everywhere that you go people will tend to jostle for position rather than defer to whomever was there first. In fact, every single bank that you visit here requires you to take a number; there are no lines to stand in because of the chaos that would ensue.

I’m not an anthropologist, but I started to consider that in a society that has matured in an environment of consistently scarce resources (such as food) and living space, over the millennia people will have tended to rush as fast as they could towards what they wanted and/or needed to ensure that they got it before their neighbor did. They would’ve had to in order to survive. It doesn’t take a big leap to see how the habit of running and pushing and shoving might stay with the culture in the developed cities considering that those born in them are really only 1 generation removed from the peasants scraping by in remote villages.

Utterly alien and completely fascinating.

All of this is to preface my thoughts about a fantastic article in today’s Boston Globe. It has nothing to do with China or Boston specifically, but apparently there has been a follow-up study to some early 19990s research where scientists tried to quantify why men tend to be attracted to women with a specific hip-to-waist ratio (0.7). It seemed to fly in the face of evolutionary theory: Women with wider waists (and, hence a smaller ratio) actually have advantages over their curvier sisters: They tend to be more fertile, have smarter babies, are more resistant to certain types of cancers and can endure greater amounts of stress before it adversely effects their health. So it follows that man’s image of the “ideal” female shape would tend towards the more reproductively successful gals, right?

Wrong. It turns out that the “ideal” female shape varies between cultures and socio-economic strata all around the world. There is a lot of great data in these studies and the answers are complicated, but what it all boils down to for me is nature vs. nurture. Or, more specifically, the absurdity that our lives, societies and cultures are driven by one or the other. We are products of both our evolutionary successes and our sociological morays.

As for all of the ladies wincing at the thought of objectification for the sake of science, here is the final quote from the Globe’s piece that really should have been the lead, as it is clearly the most important:

“It’s important that people are aware that there is no set standard for what’s attractive… and there are a number of different factors that influence what we find attractive at different points in our lives and under different circumstances.”

Happy reading, folks!

I went to a really interesting event a couple of Sundays ago. Over at Yugong Yishan, there was a showcase of 3 North Korean films and a pretty large crowd showed up, filling the venue. The organizers seemed pleasantly surprised at the turnout, and it was evident from the mostly-western crowd (though there were a fair number of Chinese in attendance) that the sheer novelty of gaining a glimpse of what life is like in the secretive country that is just a 90 minute flight away from us was a huge draw.

As for myself, I was fascinated by the things that I saw. I am always amused by government propaganda; the more absurd and strident, the better. And it doesn’t get much more militaristic and anti-Western than North Korea. Also, the depictions of daily life -even when you know that they are glamorized for the screen- help you to understand what life must be like for the average person there.

The first film was a short “documentary” by the DPRK government. It told the story of the USS Pueblo, an American spy vessel that was captured in North Korean waters in 1968. It was a pretty amusing, and a lot of the westerners -me most definitely included- couldn’t help but chuckle at lines like “The damn criminal [President] Johnson,” and “The entire world rallied to [the country's] cause, condemning the aggressor Americans’ illegal action.”

I won’t recount the entire “film,” but to get a good idea of what was in there, just check out the website maintained by the veterans of the incident here. Basically, what I saw about what went down during the capture of the ship and their subsequent 8 month captivity was the exact opposite of what is written there.

The second film was “The Schoolgirl’s Diary” (Here is a nice piece written about it from Starpulse).

This was a splendidly awful film. The acting was poor (though the lead actress, Pak Mi Hyang, is strikingly beautiful and had a few moments where some acting talent shined through) and the story is difficult to relate to. It is not an overtly political movie, but as with all films, it is a reflection of the society that it was made in and the ideology of the totalitarian regime is clearly evident.

The movie tells the story of one girl’s struggle to honor her often absent father when he fails to achieve success in life. How is this success defined? Her greatest wishes are to have her father earn his doctorate in science and, through this achievement, she and her mother, sister and grandmother will finally be able to move into an apartment in the city. This alone says a lot about the state of affairs in North Korea.

And that, as I mentioned above, was the draw of the film. Nobody knows nothin’ about what’s going on I North Korea, save for a few hearty souls who navigate the bureaucratic maze to actually take a trip as a tourist down there. I’ve met a couple of those people here in China and even they will tell you that what they see is a carefully-choreographed presentation. There are minders and you can’t exactly wander off to explore the back roads of Pyongyang just to see what you can see.

So we gleaned what we could from the movie. Some of the most revealing moments were:

At one point, the main character’s youngest sister is thrown into a rage and runs away from home because her mother forgot to pack her a “special lunch” for her school’s field trip to some picnic grounds. It is merely the most emphatic example of the importance placed on food in the movie. Over and over again, food takes a prominent place in scenes. The older women were always cooking. Scenes in the home would often take place during meals and there was always plenty to eat.

These things really stand out when you know that the country is currently begging the world for shipments of rice and that at least 2 million people are malnourished due to persistent famine.

Some great moments that got laughter from the audience:

When the main character confronts a schoolyard bully who has been making fun of her father’s lack of professional success, they get into a slight shoving match. The camera angle shifts to a wide shot and the two girls square off against each other with a small crowd surrounding them, egging them on… Just when you think that there will be a serious throw-down, the main character yells, “Let’s race!”

So the fight is resolved via a foot race around the playground, with the requisite drama-filled power chord background music and slow-motion shots. Hilarious.

Several musical interludes, where people sing songs about “The General” walking with the soldiers at “the front.” The song also included references to how “The General” loves children. (Wow, this General must be a really great guy!) It was like they were channeling The Sound of Music. These scenes were completely incongruous with the rest of the film and were very amusing.

The final montage showing the father’s unexpected success creating an “automated production system.” (For what, we never learn- enriched uranium, perhaps?) The main character’s voiceover tells us that she is very proud of her father now because even though he has been away from her for most of her life, he has achieved something for the state and he got a picture in the newspaper with the Great Leader! Everything is OK!

 
After this laugh fest, the evening wrapped up with The Game of Their Lives, a foreign-produced documentary about North Korea’s 1966 World Cup team that unexpectedly made it into the Quarterfinals and won the hearts of soccer fans in England. It was interesting, serving as a nice window into the minds of North Koreans, but it was longer than it should have been. And since I hate soccer, I had a hard time getting into the footage of the games. The best part for me was the scene of the teammates, nowold grizzled men in the present day, standing in front of a statue of Kim Il-sung, weeping as they remembered meeting him. So thoroughly is he loved there that they mourn his passing to this day.

I had a great time that night and, honestly, I can’t wait until there are more films shown. Heck, I may even try to take a trip down to North Korea myself one of these days to check it out.

I’ve been blogging in or about China for over 5 months now. I’ve written close to 70 posts so far adding up to tens of thousands of words and 19 photo essays (so far).  Annie Osborn of Boston Latin Academy has basically summed up my entire website in this single 500 word op-ed piece in Monday’s Boston Globe.

Good for you, kid.

Today, NPR’s Morning Edition wrapped up a 3-part series of reports from China’s Guangdong province. They’re tracking how the eponymous “global financial crisis” is affecting the engine of China’s growth: The Pearl River Delta. That’s where a majority of the factories that make all of the “Made in China”-labeled products are situated. Over the past 28 years it has seen the largest migration of human beings in the history of our planet.

In 1980, Shenzhen, the main port for the region, and the 2nd-largest port in China, was a small fishing village of 30,000 people. Today it is a sprawling metropolis of 12 million. That’s half again as large as New York City; and that’s just one city in the region. As a whole, Guangzhou Province is home to 115 million people.

To get a sense of just how insanely astounding this evolution has been, imagine the American government trying to engineer the creation of a single city and region like that. The Pearl River Delta area is about the size of New England. So we’d have to move 1/3 of the population of the US into that space. Boston would have to grow to 12 million people. Providence, RI? Try 8 million. Portland, ME will see at least 4 million. Manchester, NH will have to absorb another 5-7 million. Burlington, VT goes from a sleepy college town to a city of 10 million.

Sound impossible? Well, it’s not. The Chinese have done it. In less than 3 decades.

With this context in mind, listen to part 1 of the story here, and then follow the links to continue on with the 14-minute series. You can begin to understand why the idea of a large-scale economic slowdown here gives the government the jitters.

The reporter, Anthony Kuhn, also writes an accompanying essay that you can read here. It is very enlightening and even-handed.

He rightly points out that both the Chinese & US economies have been living on borrowed time. That is, thanks to Americans’ insatiable need to overspend and rely on debt to finance their dreams, both countries have gotten drunk off of the seemingly endless supply of cheap “stuff” that has been flowing out of China. The people in the US got more things to buy so that they could validate their cushy standard of living, while the Chinese got 300 million people raised up out of crushing poverty, political stability and mega-cities.

China also needs to replace energy-wasting, heavily polluting factories with hi-tech and service businesses. And while U.S. households have to save more and spend less, Chinese families need to do the opposite. So every iPhone, patio furniture set and Barbie doll that China exports to America means one less of that product available for Chinese consumers to buy.

How the relationship between our countries will evolve given the new realities that are dawning on free-spending Americans is anybody’s guess. And that, in and of itself, is a frightening thought.

It’s a little complicated and I don’t want to get into all of the details here (at least not yet), but last week my visa situation came to a head. Due to some paperwork delays on my end, some government misinformation and, finally, some bureaucratic delays by my employer, the clock ran out on my tourist visa last week before my work visa could be applied for. As a result, the good people at the Security Bureau informed me on Monday that I had to exit the country and obtain a new tourist visa before I could file for my work visa. (NOTE: Click on any of the pictures below to jump to my complete photo album from this trip on Flickr with lots more details.)

What day did I have to exit? Try Tuesday.

I learned this information at 3:00pm and by 5:30pm I was in my office frantically making last-minute travel arrangements to Shenzhen for the next day (it costs half as much to fly there as it does to fly into Hong Kong directly) and looking for a hotel. You can get a rush visa in 1 business day, but I had to plan for a few days at least in case there were any problems.

So my week was shot: I would have to take time off from work and I would have to spend my emergency travel funds not on an unexpected trip home, but on a forced “vacation.”

Of course, there are worse places to be forced to travel to.

Hong Kong is a beautiful city. I love it. I have visited several times in the past and each time I have marveled at the seamless melding of Eastern and Western culture. It is both a booming center of commerce and a homey collection of intimate enclaves. Most people are multi-lingual and there is a real sense of adventure in the air everywhere that you go. My biggest problem on this trip was that I couldn’t really go out and experience it all.

As wonderful a place as Hong Kong is, I arrived with no plans, no local contacts, weary and in a foul mood. I’ve done most of the touristy stuff before and didn’t feel like repeating myself, so as a result, I ended up spending most of my time either in my hotel room or walking aimlessly around the Peninsula neighborhood in Kowloon.

There were, however, some bright spots.

By sheer luck I ended up booking a decent mid-level hotel that sits directly on top of Tsim Tsau Tsui station, which is the end of the line for the train from Shenzhen. Furthermore, the China Travel Service (CTS) office that books excursions & processes visas is directly across the street, making this about as convenient a spot to stay as I could have found, and I stumbled across it completely by chance. (My now-legendary luck in China had not, it seemed, abandoned me.)

The Peninsula neighborhood in Kowloon, I learned, is filled with great shopping and restaurants and is only 1 train stop away from the Hong Kong Island (where the trendiest clubs and bars are located). Alternately, the ferry is just a couple of blocks away, as is the immense, obnoxiously stylish Harbour City mall. (Boy, do I know some ladies who could do some serious damage in there!) Another interesting tidbit is that it is like a Red Light District for tailors. No shit. As I walked down the main streets, I was accosted every few feet by well-dressed Indian men asking me if I needed a suit made.

I actually started feeling dirty after a while… Though I suppose that it could have been the abundant porn available on every corner.

I made most of these discoveries not because of my own exploration, but because of the invaluable help of Jade, a native CouchSurfer who graciously spent her Wednesday night walking me around her fair city. We had dinner in Lan Kwai Fong and then walked down to the ferry terminal for the short but beautiful trip back over to Kowloon.

Once there, we paused so that I could take a few photos of the gorgeous skyline…

…Before starting our trek through the Peninsula neighborhood. We went through the Harbour City mall and followed a seemingly random path through marketplaces and outdoor plazas…

…Until we finally settled in a small tea shop and chatted until just before midnight. It was truly the highlight of my trip.

The weather in Hong Kong at this time of year is really unbeatable. It is 70-75 degrees and sunny every day with low humidity. Light breezes were refreshing instead of chilling and the scenery is truly stunning.

I would not have any problems living here and I have often told people that one of my goals is to be able to get a place in this city. Of course, after spending a sweltering summer here and living through one of their infamous rainy seasons, I may sing a different tune, but for now this place is like a paradise for a guy like me.

After several days here of not doing much I ended up getting my new visa with no troubles and headed back to Beijing. As I was finally leaving my hotel, I thought to myself, “It’s great to be heading back home.”

That made me stop in my tracks (and brought the whores- um, I mean, tailors scurrying over). I think that I have finally started to think of Beijing as home.

It feels like I’ve taken a huge step and that there is no going back… Unless I get screwed out of my work visa, that is.

I mention it often, this CouchSurfing thing. If you’ve ever bothered to click on the hyperlink embedded in that name then you know what its all about. If you haven’t, then do it before going on, because if you don’t you might get a little lost. (NOTE: Click on any of the party pictures below to jump the complete photo album from that night. Believe me, there is a LOT more to see that did not get posted here.)

I first got involved with this community last October. I created a profile and offered my services in Boston as a local know-it-all. I gave walking tours of downtown full of stories that you won’t find in guidebooks, as well as a local’s perspective on the history that my home city is so rich in and proud of. I didn’t attend any meet-ups in those first months and my experiences were limited. It is one of those very first experiences that illustrate the amazing connections that can be forged via this website, and how, last weekend, it ended up helping me have one of my most fun nights out since arriving in Beijing.

Back in November, I met my second CSer, Marie-Line. She’s from Belgium and was working as an Au Pair on Long Island so that she could live in the US for a couple of years and travel around a bit. I gave her a tour of downtown Boston and took my baby brother Nick along for the ride. We all got along famously. On a whim, we ended up going to Blue Man Group (which I had never seen), and we had am awesome time. We hit it off so well, that when new Year’s Eve time rolled around Marie-Line decided to come back to Boston to check out First Night with me.

At the same time, Christine was a new resident in the city attending graduate school. Her best friend from college back in Buffalo, Liz, was coming to visit her for New Year’s and she posted an inquiry onto the CS Boston message board: What is this “First Night” thing all about, and what, exactly, should we see?

I replied with some basic info on what was going on and my recommendations on which events would be best/easiest to attend. There was some emailing between us, and we eventually decided that Christine, Liz & I, along with Marie-Line and another CSer that she was bringing, Darren, would all go out to First Night together. We would hop between art events and bars and have dinner at a really nice out-of-the-way restaurant to avoid the crowds.

It was, quite simply, one of the best New Year’s Eves that I’ve ever had. All of these disparate strangers had come together with a similar mindset and a willingness to meet new people and learn all that they could about their backgrounds and experiences. It was very welcoming and affirming. But even more, from it sprang a whole new path of life for one of the attendees.

Liz was fascinated with Marie-Line’s choice to become an Au Pair as a means to living overseas. She peppered her with questions about the job and her experiences throughout the night. Eventually, after some subsequent back-and-forth, Liz decided to take the plunge herself and she moved to Geneva, becoming an Au Pair and taking every opportunity to travel all across Europe.

While in Geneva, Liz has, of course, made many new friends, and one of them, Rafaella, took a trip to China recently for her job. Liz told her that she knew me, figured that we would hit it off, and told her to look me up when she arrived in Beijing.

Boy, was Liz ever right! Raffy & I clicked immediately and it was an immeasurable joy to hang out with her. And here the miracle and tragedy is illustrated most clearly: I never would have met Raffy had it not been for Liz and Marie-Line, two people that I never would have met without CS. But now that I have met her, she is gone just as quickly as she arrived.

I still keep in touch with both Liz & Marie-Line, as I am sure that I will keep in touch with Raffy, and I consider both of them to friends. Marie-Line has moved back to Belgium and Liz has visited her there, and I hope to be able to see them both when I take my hoped-for trip to Europe next year. Now, hopefully, I can add Rafaella to the list.

I hadn’t really given it too much thought to this whole social network thing until a fellow CSer back in Boston posted this article on the site. Its quite illuminating and I was interested to read that what I am living right now is a pretty new and evolving phenomenon. Nobody is really sure over the long run how our newfound ability to forge and maintain connections with so many people all over the world will effect us as individuals, within societies, or if we are seeing the first stages of the creation of a new kind of society.

Its all very exciting. I mean, this weekend I met with this crazy cast of characters who were all different sizes, shapes, colors and creeds and we all had an awesome time…

…We were all pretty much strangers, with only the Beijingers knowing each other, but we got along like we were an established group of friends. We vamped it up with each other.

We took embarrassing photos.

We demonstrated feats of strength.

And we most definitely danced together.

Some of us even danced with an old guy.

I really hope that I’m able to keep in touch with as many of these great folks as possible.

Anyway, I guess that what I’m saying is this: This whole social network thing -and CouchSurfing in particular- is pretty awesome. This really is a great tome to be alive… and it’s a great time to be in Beijing.

I am continually struck by all of the differences that there are between Chinese and American culture. And, just as often, I am struck by just how the same all of the people that make up those respective cultures are. (NOTE: Click on any of the pictures below to jump to the complete photo album on Flickr, where you’ll find a lot more details on our day!)

Take last Sunday, for instance. My good friend Yansu came across some promotional tickets for the Beijing Amusement Park for 5 people. Fall weather in Beijing is clear, dry and crisp (usually in the upper 40s to low 50s) every day, so it sounded like a lot of fun. Plus, a Chinese amusement park? This, I had to see.

This was like the equivalent of Canobie Lake Park. It was a smaller venue than, say, Six Flags, in terms of the number of rides, but the layout is very different from what you’d see in the US. Back home, these places tend to have a carnival-like atmosphere, with an attempt made to squeeze as many rides and games into the area as possible. Here, there is a premium placed on open spaces, long walkways and scenery. The artificial lake surrounding the park is pretty striking. Also, there weren’t any carnival games that I could see anywhere.

This was like a piece of Americana copied painstakingly by the Chinese, but re-built with Chinese sensibilities in mind. For instance, all of the rides are things that you’d recognize in America: Merry-Go-Round, Ferris Wheel, Roller Coaster, etc. The buildings had a western aesthetic. No hutong-esque structures here. Everything looked like it came straight out of a “Typical Amusement Park Structures” box.

Even the lines to get onto the rides were American. No jostling, pushing or shoving, as is typical everywhere else here. (Just try to ride the subway during rush hour.) Everybody was orderly, and even happy, to wait their turn.

Now the food served at some of the snack stands… that was a different story. This stand was waiting for us after we got off of the roller coaster.

I loved this setup; it was so Chinese, in several ways. First, it was reminiscent of the food vendors that you see in the streets in the mornings and evenings all around the city. They often have the best food and it is unbelievably cheap.

Second, the food was unusual. It was all on a stick, and you had 3 choices: chicken, beef or squid. And when I say “squid,” I mean an honest-to-goodness squid impaled on a stick and boiled. Even being from New England and used to all kinds of seafood, it was an odd thing to see. I’ve actually tried squid in China before and don’t care for it (I’m partial to New England style fried calamari).

Finally, there was no “line” for the food like there was for the rides. It was a scrum to get to the front and get your order in to the vendor. And when you finally got your food, you had to push your way through to the little area to the side where the spices and sauces were laid out.

It all tasted great, as Lena can attest.

As you’d expect in a place like this, everywhere you went there were kids. And families. When you see a dad chasing after his kids, or an older brother looking exasperated at the antics of a younger sister, you realize that for all of our stupid differences, everybody is the really the same. Maybe we see things a little differently sometimes, or maybe our governments take what we think are crazy stances on some issues, but when you put folks into an amusement park, that all just goes away.

I had a really great time, and while it wasn’t as crazy and alcohol-soaked as my French adventure the night before, it was rewarding in its own ways. I got to chill out with some great friends, get a little taste of home in the process, and then wrap it all up with a fun meal at the end.

Life certainly is good.

Some of my best friends are architects, so I get lots of flack for hating the hell out of Boston’s City Hall building. They like to cling to its significance as a shining example of Brutalist design. I like to point out that whatever design it is, its juts plain ugly… and barely functional. (Why, oh why, are the most popular and important city services located in the bowels of the building and nearly impossible to find for newcomers? Because the acid-trip-in-a-cement-mixer layout of hallways, staircases and overhangs makes going from one point of the building to any other point a task that requires an iPhone with GPS functionality.)

Now the traveling masses have spoken, according to the Boston Globe.

A survey by Virtual Tourist has declared City Hall to be one of the 10 ugliest buildings or monuments on the planet. You can see some discussion on the topic here.

Any time that they want to tear that monstrosity down would be just fine with me.

With development not slowing down at all over here in Beijing, as it is back home in Boston and the rest of the US (the Chinese recently announced an almost $600 billion stimulus package that will focus on further infrastructure development), it was interesting to see this piece in last Saturday’s Globe about the last great period of vast infrastructure construction back home and who was the driving force behind it.

James Michael Curley.

Probably best known as the inspiration for “The Last Hurrah” and the Bosstones’ tune “The Rascal King,” much has been said about his life and career. It was one that exhibited the absolute best and worst of public life. But what is less known was his unquenchable thirst to make Boston a better, more livable, city.

Agree or disagree with some of the things that he did or said, “in the end, they knew his name…”

With the Presidential race finally over (I’ll have some Beijing-centric wrap up on that soon), political junkies like me have little to follow except for the recount in Minnesota and process stories about Obama’s transition, so it was with nostalgic glee that I caught this column in today’s Boston Globe about the 1983 race for Mayor of Boston.

This is the first political event that I remember being aware of as a kid. I wasn’t around for the start of busing in Boston but I remember the racial troubles that were palpable throughout the city in the years that followed. The mayoral race between Mel King and Ray Flynn took place amidst an ocean of racial undercurrents, yet these two leaders strove to keep those debates -and problems arising from them- contained.

One of my earliest memories is from Election Day that year. I can remember walking to the Edward Everett School where I attended kindergarten that morning and seeing all of the people holding signs and handing out leaflets as people walked into the polling station that was in the basement there. Just before I got onto the school grounds, a bus drove by. It was filled with black kids and was on its way to a white neighborhood to drop them at a school that had been forcibly integrated just a few years prior.

What I remember was the entire busload of black kids all pushed up against one side of the bus, with half of them hanging out of the windows, yelling: “MEL KING!! MEL KING!!”

Now these kids couldn’t vote, but they were swept up in what was happening at the time: White Boston was in a race to beat back an insurgent Black Boston. It was truly the first racial electoral battle of Boston’s modern age. Previous battles had been fought between the Brahmins and the Irish in the late 19th and early 20th century, but now it was different.

Whites “won,” but they elected a guy who was pro-desegregation and who worked hard to keep the progress of race relations in the city on track. One generation later, Boston is a “majority-minority” city with far fewer racial troubles to speak of, and who voted overwhelmingly to elect America’s first black president. We’ve come a long way, baby!

Damn, I love my hometown.