It has been over 2.5 months since I started the process of acquiring and then filing the paperwork and running all across Beijing to various ministries to get required documents. Lots of trials and tribulations were experienced, including: I had made a stupid mistake that got my 1-year/2-month-per-entry tourist visa cancelled. I got some bad information from the Security Bureau that caused me to have to pay some “renewal” fees twice. Then my company delayed filing for the visa last month causing me to have to fly to Hong Kong to get a NEW tourist visa.

Honestly, I was starting to think that my insanely good luck here in China had finally run out, or that all of the good fortune that I have experienced was going to be balanced out by a denial of the visa, or maybe just interminable delays.

Not only did this not happen, but the date of issuance on the visa ended up being December 25. My own Christmas miracle.

When I got that visa in my hands last night I was so giddy! I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. It has been impossible to think about the future without it. I mean, how can I plan vacations, or ask friends to plan trips to visit me, if I don’t know if I will be here after my next 30-day window of tourist visa validity?

I sure as hell haven’t spent any money buying things for my apartment, such as pots and pans, curtains or any other accoutrement of life. I haven’t bought a stitch of clothing because everything that I have just barely fit into my luggage when I came over in August. If I’d had to travel home suddenly I wouldn’t have been able to bring anything back with me. Why waste the cash?

All of that ends now. I am an official, legal resident alien with a permit to hold a job. And so long as I am gainfully employed I can renew that visa every year.

I’ve got the next 5 days off. Tonight is New Year’s Eve. I’ll be heading out with a huge group of friends to a massive warehouse to party in style. Tomorrow, Friday & Saturday I’ve got plans to party as well. I really, really have something to celebrate this year. My future in China begins now.

Of course, China being a communist-ruled country, the state is officially atheist, and, officially, so are all of the people. Practically it doesn’t quite work that way, as I’ve met plenty of Chinese who identify as Christian, Buddist, etc. But you can forget seeing and stars of David, nativity scenes or crosses around town. As for peoples’ homes? Well, lets just say that there are no rows of houses that are so lit up that people drive from miles away to see them. Look at the typical apartment building and you won’t see multi-colored lights filling any windows.

Christmas is conspicuous here only by it compartmentalization. That is, you can expect to be assaulted by gaudy displays in front of modern office complexes and malls, but forget about it anywhere else.

There is no mad rush of shopping. The city doesn’t shut down as people trek home for family gatherings. The highways are as crowded as ever.

Every culture has some sort of seasonal holiday celebration. In the West we had pagan solstice festivals that were appropriated by the Christians 1,700 years ago. Here in China they still set their winter Festivus by the lunar calendar. As a result, the “Christmas Season” is a cultural curiosity here rather than a reason to actually celebrate anything. It’s a time to hang pretty lights (which the Chinese love anyway) and listen to some cheesy and cheerful Western music.  Check out this blurb from a recent article in the Globe:

Although many Chinese have come to love Christmas, decorating trees and windows, piping the ubiquitous Christmas carols into elevators and stores, one thing they don’t do is shop. The big consumer holiday here is the lunar New Year, and parents buy clothing and shoes for their children, not toys.

 

“All these toys we make are for the foreign children,” said 40-year-old Long Sunjun, who runs a small shop near the closed Smart Union toy factory. She says that even the children of the toy factory workers seldom were given toys other than squirt guns or balls. “Chinese kids can make their own toys. Besides, they should be studying, not playing with toys.”

Practically it is just a regular day. Everybody goes to work. The banks are all open. Restaurants tend to be a little more crowded, but that’s just because Westerners like me all go out to eat, and we tend to drag along some of our Chinese friends with us.

I was surprised at how much of a relief it was to be in this environment. Sure, we as humans tend to need some seasonal excuses to re-connect with friends and family. This is valuable. And I’ve been socialized to recognize the winter solstice as my time to pine for this affirmation of life, so I won’t lie: I was looking for some stuff to do. But over here you are forced to strip away all of the “normal” accoutrement of gift-buying, excessive home decorating, card-sending (try finding Christmas cards here) and hosting/visiting etiquette, leaving you with a simple proposition: Let’s hang out.

So that’s what we did.

For myself, it was a 3-night celebration. On Christmas Eve, my friend Alain organized an outing for several of us (1 Chinese, 1 French, 1 Quebecois, 2 Americans & 1 Filipino) to have dinner at the Ritz Carlton.

It was really nice- the camaraderie was warm and comforting while the food was wonderfully varied. Ironically, the turkey was the worst thing they had, so I “settled” for some curry, some barbeque chicken, amazing stuffing, ham and dumplings.

My friend Catherine went for the crab.

It was a great time. Unfortunately for me, I had to work my regular overnight shift so I was not able to stay with the crew for the drinking and dancing that followed but I made up for it later.

Through a quirk of my work schedule, I actually had Christmas Day off and planned a much longer outing. My night began with a wonderfully eclectic group of us gathering for dinner at a fun Russian restaurant in Dongzhimen. The countries represented this time? India, China, France, Scotland, the US and the Czech Republic. Awesome.

There is really great food here so the restaurant was packed; there was a line to get in (we arrived early enough that we did not have to wait) and the decorations were obnoxiously gaudy.

There was bad live “jazz” complete with a Russian in a cheesy, sparkly jacket that some lounge player from 1970s Vegas was probably missing.

And there were incredibly rich, typical Russian dishes that were unbelieveably bad for us, like this bowl of beefsteak covered in carrots, potatoes, cheese and mayonnaise. An “Aorta Bomb,” as an old friend of mine would have called it, accompanied by imported Russian beer. It was delicious.

After dinner a bunch of us headed on over to Nanlouguxiang hutong, an ancient alley filled with small, fun bars that the Chinese flock to (unlike the big dance clubs in Sanlitun that cater to mostly Westerners). There, we hung out with the locals and enjoyed the pleasant, welcoming atmosphere. There was karaoke on display from drunken, over-enthusiastic Chinese,

And we played my favorite Chinese drinking game, Dai Wa Sik, or “Liar Dice.”

I didn’t fare too well.

Overall, it was one of the most fun Christmases that I have ever had, namely because I wasn’t busy running from place to place or wrapping (or even buying) gifts. I wasn’t a slave to tradition. Everybody just wanted to have a great time and it didn’t matter how we accomplished our goal. At one point, I turned to Deepesh and said, “What the hell is going on? It’s Christmas and I’m eating in a Russian restaurant in Beijing with an Indian guy?!” So surreal and so much fun. I had thrown my old holiday rulebook out and I was reveling in the freedom that I never knew I had been denied by my old habits. There were no seating arrangements to cause the least amount of friction. No planning to arrive late enough and leave early enough so as to spend the minimal amount of “acceptable” time. No having to listen to racist jokes.

Luckily for me it didn’t stop there. Due to another scheduling quirk, I only had to work the afternoon shift on Boxing Day, so I was able to rally a large group to go out for a night of drinking and dancing.

It was, for all intents and purposes, a “normal” Friday night out, but perhaps with a little more thankfulness at the chance to be together. The hugs that I got from friends -both old and new- were a little tighter and longer than normal.

It was a wonderful stretch of days, a wonderful holiday season. Of course, there was a wistfulness at some moments for the familiar trappings of Christmas back home, but it felt like the same kind of pining that you get for an old pair of shoes. I had these great new ones, but my feet really were used to the familiar, worn pair that I just shoved into the back of my closet.

No matter. I’ll survive -and thrive- in the new shoes that I’ve got.

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!

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.

Smoking bans are popping up all across the world. Boston introduced theirs a half decade ago and after a recent study showed that it has directly led to a decline in deaths from heart attacks, it was recently strengthened.  But here in China, you can light up almost anywhere.

[Right now, the hot Latin girl is putting her tongue in my ear. It's hard to focus, but I shall soldier on.]

Sure, the subways are smoke-free, as are all Starbucks, but almost all restaurants and bars either allow smoking or only have small No Smoking sections. The sidewalks are filled with smokers. Some estimates say that almost 400 million Chinese smoke; a number so high that even the government here was unable to institute their own ban in bars and restaurants earlier this year. For somebody like me who absolutely hates smoking and is mildly disgusted at the very scent of a puffer nearby, it is like Hell on Earth. The only thing that makes it tolerable is drinking heavily.

Good thing that booze is cheap here.

Good for you, kid.

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.

Remember, this is not a list of the “Best” or “Worst” films in the Christmas genre. They’re not even necessarily my favorites. They are, in my opinion, among the most important, in that they are cultural touchstones, genre-definers, or just accurately portray some facet of Americana or American history.

You will not agree with all of the choices, of course. Check out the list over on the left and leave a comment on why you know better than I do.

I hit my first dart dead-on with my second dart, impaling it. The odds on this? I have no idea, but it’s gotta be pretty astronomical.

Needless to say, I started shouting to all of the people in the bar to come and see what I had done. And I would not get out of the way of the people waiting behind me to play until everybody in the bar had come over to check it out and I had a chance to take some photos.

Full disclosure: I wasn’t actually aiming for that dart, or even in the same area that the dart was in on the board. It is yet another example of my amazing good luck here in Beijing.

I should’ve bought a lottery ticket right after it happened.

Since China’s capital slipped out of the world spotlight — and away from its Herculean efforts to unclutter the air for the Games by closing factories, halting construction, and removing half of the cars from the roads — the air quality has bounced between looking a bit better or far worse than what you’d suck up in Los Angeles.

A fair assessment. I have most certainly noticed some amazingly clear days as well as some smoggy ones. The reason for the improvement from the past (as inconsisent as it is)? Many of the worst-offending factories and foundries that were shut down in the run-up to the Olympics were permanently moved out of the city. Also, thousands of old, inneficent, exhaust-belching trucks that were used on construction sites and to haul all sorts of good to and fro were permanently retired.

I haven’t really noticed any adverse effects from the air quality here yet, but, to be fair, I haven’t been out to play a hard-core game of frisbee since I arrived. I do, however, walk at least 1 hour per day and I do not feel winded. I may feel differently come spring time when I play frisbee again and start taking kung-fu lessons. We’ll see.

Anway, you can check out the rest of the article here.