Slow Boat to China

thoughts on life in the East

Small Melon Sauce Explosion of Kidney

These are real.

I will let these Cantonese dishes, translated on an English menu, speak for themselves.  Generally these will fall into a few preposterous categories, which below I have separated for your convenience, and avoidance.

A word of advice: DON'T try the Pepper You Should Try Soup

Too Many Nouns Without Adjectives or Prepositions
Burn Juice Celery Pork Bone Tea Mushroom
Caterpillar Fungus Flowers Yuanyang Chicken Stew

Things that Would Be Better Falsely Advertised as 'Chicken'
Burned Taste Platter
Stone Nest Pig Tails
South Piglet's Hand

Who Could Resist?
With Chicken Beef Together Party

Poetic, to Be Ordered Whisperingly
Gently Green Beans
Nestle Sea in Treasure

Swamp Food
Bubble Pepper Fried Frogs
Fresh Frog Porridge

Not Even the Chef Knows What's In It
Pig Miscellaneous Pot
Iron Plate Pig Miscellaneous
Gold Cow Miscellaneous

Wildly Dangerous
Small Melon Sauce Explosion of Kidney
Health Speculation Green Vegetables
Peas, Slippery Chicken Rice

Mildly Satanic
Of Burning Flesh Brine Rice
Roast Duck Dinner of Burning Flesh

Subtly Insulting to the Eater
Fengcheng Dumplings Face
Pork Pack

Imperatives and Suggestions
Bake the Pig's Rice
Eat Meat Double Eggs
Pepper You Should Try Soup

Cannabilistic
Eight Jane Tofu Pot
White Juice Cheese Baked Godmother

 

The Biggest Thing You've Never Heard Of

Welcome, World-Citizen-Still-Skeptical-About-China's-Speedy-Rise, to the biggest non-event the world has ever blissfully ignored.  Watch in wide-eyed wonderment, you non-believer you, as billions of dollars in Chinese currency are invested into making nothing into something.  China is hosting the biggest sporting event no one has ever heard of in the biggest city no one's ever heard of, inspiring the same burning inquiry around the world from everyone who accidentally clicked that one CNN link:

"What? Huh? Where?"

In hosting the Universiade, alternately called the World University Games by its dozens of rabid fans, Shenzhen joins the ranks of such polished global cities as Poprad-Tatry, Slovakia ('99) and Zakopane, Poland ('93 AND '01).  And who can forget Edmonton '83? (hint: a watershed year for men's badminton).

The bid to host was a chance for Shenzhen to engage the international community, create lasting bonds among the youth of the world, and shovel more money than Mao at stadiums that will only ever be used again for Rec League soccer.  And after Beijing got the '08 olympics and Shanghai got the '10 World Expo, there was really nothing left.

So after two years of preparation, the Games are finally here.  President Hu Jintao joined the opening ceremony, evidently to make sure it featured more clapping than the State of the Union Address, and everyone from the King of Swaziland to the Prince of Gambia showed up with legions of student ping-pongers, windsurfers and hurdlers.

Even the USA sent a delegation.  Frankly, a 'Universiade' sounds like exactly the kind of foreign thing we usually stay away from, like the United Nations, or speedos.  Still, our brave athletes marched out there, marveling at the roaring crowds and still bitter they didn't make the real Olympics.

Amidst the pomp and circumstance and shiny new stadiums, you've got to feel bad for the next Universiade host.  Kazan, Russia, start saving your rubles, 'cause this is a tough act to follow.  And as for China, the next event they're vying to host is the only one guaranteed to garner less passion from US sports fans than the Universiade.

Ni hao, World Cup 2026.

 

Weiguan-ing Our Way to Number One

围观 [wéiguān] verb

  1. (of a crowd of people) to stand in a circle and watch
    How many Chinese does it take to screw in a light bulb?  1.3 billion and one.  One to do it, and 1.3 billion to wéiguān.*

Now to be fair, realistically it only takes 3-4 people to weiguan a small activity like a light bulb replacement.  A larger-scale action or anything especially unconventional can warrant a dozen or more.

Don’t be fooled though.  The presence of those onlookers is vital.  They are a living breathing expressionless silent spitting smoking bona fide support group.  They add a net of moral support and validation to the mundane tasks that burden China’s workforce.

Changing manhole covers?  The next three guys to amble by will make sure you’ve got company.  Messy fender bender?  Cue dozens of eyes trying mightily to pop that dent out and get you back on the road.  Cleaning lily pads in a fake pond outside the mall?  Guaranteed fan club for hours.

Weiguan-ing happens enough here that if there weren’t a two-syllable word to describe it, the Chinese economy would lose more in productivity than it does from… people standing around doing nothing all the time.

Some claim language is a strong reflection of culture.  I once got a D in a Linguistics course in which we read a claim that Eskimos have a hundred words for snow, while the denizens of Southern Florida have a fairly equal number of words for cocaine.  If the course served me well, and I’m sure it did not, my conclusion is that languages reflect in often hilarious and revealing ways the incubators in which they evolve.

Chinese have been standing around and looking at things for millennia.  They needed a quick way to express this phenomenon, and voila! (a French word that is, in turn, evidently more concise than any English expression of the concept).  Eskimos have a strong environmental connection with snow, and Miamians with a different brand of snow, giving rise to a wealth of words in those departments.

So the next time you see someone doing something that needs watching, don’t shirk your responsibilities and keep walking.  Take a cue from the Chinese.  Weiguan for a while, offer a few grunts of acknowledgment to justify your loitering, and recruit your fellow pedestrian patriots to do the same. 

Because China’s on the march, and they sure didn’t get to where they are by not standing around in a circle and watching.

*Credit: Bennett Chinese-English Dictionary

China in the Media. China Day-to-Day.

Reading Western media reports about China is a mixed bag.  

Living in China gives me a greater chance to understand this place.  It also makes it hard to remove myself from the equation, zoom out and appreciate the macro perspective on something I'm living day-to-day.  

Below, I'll lump the stories I see into categories and try to add some local, on-the-ground flavor.

Human Interest - Movin' On Up

Have you read stories like the following?  
"Zhou Wen and Zhang Li are poor beet growers.  Two years ago they had nothing.  Now as newly minted members of the 800 million Chinese with cell phones, they check current beet prices with their phones to know when to harvest and take their produce to market.  The first thing they bought with their increased profits was a TV.  Li is saving for a refrigerator next."

I live in the most populous province in China, with around 110 million residents.  Nearly a quarter of these are migrant workers.  They come here to work hard for a few years, save and bring enough back to open a business and settle down.  Then they buy their beet-growing parents cell phones.  Repeat.  Observe results.
Environment - It's a Numbers Game

With every Joe Chan and his brother buying air conditioners, refrigerators and cars, this is certainly worrying.  China is taking steps to improve the situation.  Beijing already has a car ID system by which certain cars are banned from the roads on certain days.  But in the end, this is a matter of sheer scale of population and pace of development.  It's not going away.

When I stayed in Beijing for a couple weeks last year, it was totally shrouded in haze.  When the sun finally came out toward the end of my stay, people stopped what they were doing and gathered outside as if it were a lunar eclipse.  Inland cities like Beijing and Chongqing are notorious for their permanently hovering pollution.  But even cities benefiting from consistent coastal winds like Shenzhen realize more than their share of hazy days.
Business - RMB Appreciation

A story on China isn't complete without mentioning this.  US politicians push for it because of pressure at the polls to take action on China's "artificially low currency," which they accuse of siphoning jobs from America.  Whether an additional 25% increase in the currency's value would send jobs back to the US or instead to Cambodia and Vietnam is another question entirely. 

Movement on currency doesn't spell disaster for anyone except those manufacturers operating on the slimmest profit margins.  Most industries producing in China depend on a combination of low labor costs + low overhead + certain skilled labor + infrastructure + stability.  This combination isn't present anywhere else on this scale. 

I've seen the RMB rise around 3% in the past 6 months.  Not much on the ground action.  A couple of noodle vendors bumped their prices up around $0.15.  Gougers.

Politics - the Fear Factor

Positive stories on China's political system will generally emphasize that the country's authoritarian free market system allows the quick executive decisions needed to sustain this tremendous pace of growth.  America's economic woes have some other countries questioning the Washington Consensus for the Beijing Consensus - in short, deciding that political reforms are not a prerequisite for economic reforms.

Negative stories focus on a myriad of human rights abuses, the Nobel Prize question, and increasingly ask the question "What would war with China look like?"  I've seen two recent "What If's" based on the Taiwan situation getting out of hand.  Although conflict is clearly not in either country's interest, war games simulated by our country's military pundits increasingly focus on this scenario.

Here, people simply don't talk about politics.  In the vast majority of cases it's not that they're scared but that they just don't care.  When it has been brought up, you hear a matter of fact acknowledgement of the differences.  "Oh yes, you vote for someone to lead your country.  We do not."
As usual, the media gets plenty right but errs on the side of hyperbole.  They quote radical demagogues more often than reasonable, thoughtful pundits.  Fear does sell.

Try as I might to appreciate the China issues raising red flags in the media back home, day-to-day life just isn't that scary here.

Cultural imperialism? Gimme a break

What's your vision of life in China?  If you're imagining a mysterious, inscrutable place, with fog-shrouded bamboo shoots and temple-dwelling sages, that China is as foreign and mythical to most Chinese as it is to you.  If you think of towering skyscrapers, pollution and cities teeming with migrant workers, that's closer to the mark but not the whole story.

I live in a modern, quickly developing section of Shenzhen, one of the fastest growing cities of the fastest growing country in the world.  There are no factories near my apartment, and there are few bamboo shoots.  Nearby construction is focused on a futuristic stadium and accompanying metro stop.

Walking to work, I pass Burger King, Starbucks, Dunkin' Donuts, Dairy Queen, KFC, Pizza Hut, McDonald's, Carrefour, a Brazilian BBQ place and a Texas-based chain called The Smoothie Factory.  The working professionals in the area tend more toward hash browns and coffee from McDonald's than traditional breakfast foods like dumplings, hard-boiled eggs or corn on the cob.

Is this process unfolding before my eyes modernization, or Westernization?

There's a difference.  Modernization assumes that developing countries apply technologies and trends from developed countries, but are able to make them their own in the process.  Their cultural habits adapt, but are not eroded.  Westernization is a replacing of indigenous culture, habits and institutions with their Western equivalents.

When you see a Chinese guy in jeans and a designer t-shirt speaking English on his iPhone at Starbucks, it's tempting to claim that these things are Western and he has been Westernized.  On the opposite end, it's tempting to point to the McDonald's menu in a given country as proof that an adaptable modernization is clearly possible.  "In Saudi Arabia McDonald's doesn't serve pork!"  Or, "In Liechtenstein they have Sheep Earlobe Nuggets!  Wouldn't find that in Atlanta."

There's a lot of gray area here.  My take is that modernization comes with a good dose of Westernization/Americanization by default, given that our hemisphere has been at the helm during the rapid globalization of the past half-century.  That the technologies China uses and the styles and music and movies it consumes are from the West should be no surprise.  But for anyone crying cultural imperialism, it's not.  It's only incidental.  China is looking for a quick fix, for a fast-track to development, and our institutions and brands and language and foods are providing that.  For now.

But as China grows more self-assured, as Chinese people become more confident in their country's newfound status as a major player, will the novelty and prestige of these Western symbols be enough?  Or, will homegrown businesses and icons begin to replace them?  

Right now, China issues thousands of visas to "foreign experts," or foreigners brought in with the end goal of propagating skills like English fluency or Western management techniques, guiding China into the modern age.  You could say that foreign businesses like KFC and Starbucks, with their experience and brand power and novelty abroad, are in a sense foreign experts.  Will China still need foreign experts in fifty years?  Or, will it dispatch its own foreign experts to developing nations, as it's beginning to do now through foreign aid and investment from Cambodia to Venezuela to Angola? 

Is Sinicization tomorrow's Westernization?  And in the course of the 21st century, will both come to signify modernization?

America votes, life goes on

They tell me there was an election last week.

The headlines worked hard to catch my attention.  "Midterm elections a referendum on Obama's... "  "Tea Party rally set for..."  "Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert storm the Mall to..."  
Skim.  Glance.  Ignore.  Blissfully unaware, I joined the ranks of the nonvoters.

Not that I don't care.  I do.  I care about the direction of the country's foreign policy. I'll take collaborative and globally engaging over hawkish and isolationist, free trade over protectionism.  I care about electing qualified, principled, rational representatives over reactionary partisan demagogues.  I care about the protection of personal freedoms, I care about voting as a civic duty and I care about how elections impact my wallet. 

But I clearly don't care ENOUGH about these things to search for an absentee voter form, research the candidates and send it in.

If I learned anything as a former politics junkie, it's that voters are inherently self-interested.  When you choose whether to vote, you weigh the positives of voting (the chance your vote will influence the outcome, the feeling of patriotism and involvement you get by participating, how likely it is your party or candidate will win) against the negatives (the hassle of getting to the polls, bad weather, the time spent reading about the candidates and issues, the reality that your vote probably won't affect the election).  For me it's simple: I'm 8,000 miles away.  Apathy won.

Guess I'll vote twice next time.

Whenver I turned on my TV this October in Shenzhen, China, I saw public service announcements from Hong Kong encouraging people to wash their hands, remove standing water to prevent the spread of mosquitoes, stop smoking indoors.  Whenever Joe Voter turned on his TV in Akron, Ohio, he saw candidates bashing each other for sending his job to China, for allowing tax breaks for American companies doing business in China, for ordering a second plate of fried noodles at P.F. Chang's.

One candidate for Senate in Connecticut actually asked his opponent why her company manufactured action figures in China and not in the U.S. I'd like to ask him if he'd pay $25 for a G.I. Joe if she moved her factory to New Haven.

Clearly, I'm an anomaly.  I live in China.  I like China.  And companies like mine that export to the U.S. only stand to lose from a rise in the RMB or consumer anger towards goods that are Made in China.  Employment's down, frustration is high, workers are looking for an easy target and politicians are happy to oblige.  I get it.  

But I can't help but think that they would feel differently if they knew how much Chinese workers like and respect America, and that this transition of manufacturing jobs is a difficult process but one that has happened before.  With its easy access to raw materials and lower wages, America "took" manufacturing jobs from Britain in the 1800s.  Twenty years ago, we had the same debate as NAFTA came into being and Mexico began to drain textile jobs and other light manufacturing work from the US.  Now in China, as wages rise, the Renminbi appreciates, and the country develops its expertise in heavy industry and R&D, these same light manufacturing jobs will eventually and naturally shift to Vietnam, Malaysia and other low-wage, low-skill countries.

Rationally, this makes sense.  But that's ignoring the fact that China is different from Mexico and Malaysia and Vietnam because it's not just about jobs.  It's about the deep-seated fear that each job lost to China is another bit of American primacy lost.  It's about being the uncontested Number One Superpower for a few generations and seeing that start to slip away.  This fear has staying power. The U.S.-China relationship will be the defining foreign policy dynamic of the 21st century, and this guy even says historians may come to see the War on Terror as just "an interlude between great power competition, the kind of thing the United States could afford to focus on in those unipolar years between its rivalry with the Soviet Union and its rivalry with China."

Since I didn't lose my job to this recession - in fact, I'm working for the enemy - it's easy to discuss this in the detached framework of natural economic flow.  I know our high unemployment numbers represent actual Americans having an incredibly tough time.  But instead of vilifying a country we're inextricably tied to economically, responsible politicians need to focus on cushioning the transition: providing economic safety nets and retraining programs for those whose jobs can be done for $0.80 and a bowl of rice in Chengdu.  

Politicians: do this next time and I promise I will find a Chinese Kinko's, print off an absentee ballot and mail it in.  As long as it takes under an hour and it's not raining.

Money matters

"How much did your watch cost?"  "How about your suit?"  "How expensive is your apartment?  What floor?"

"What's your salary?"  

Do these questions make you uncomfortable?  How about when they come from total strangers?  In China, taxi drivers, noodle makers and umbrella vendors alike are simply too curious about the details of your financial life not to ask.  Far from a taboo subject, asking your salary can seem like the natural followup question to "What do you do?"

Of course, you'll get an earful on whether you make enough, and the response probably depends on how their salary compares.

As an English teacher last year, I concluded I was about even with taxi drivers and with other teachers.  "You're a foreigner, so why are aren't you pulling in more than us?" they wondered.  Like people in any country not on the Euro or a currency ending in 'dollar', many Chinese assume Americans are all rich.  I enjoyed using the opportunity to explain the reality: we're not.

But then again, aren't we?  Sometimes it's more humbling.

Chatting yesterday with a fellow noodle-eater, it came up.  A migrant from Hunan province who worked at a Chinese fast food joint, he made around the average 2,000RMB a month, or about $3,500USD a year.  How much did I make last year as an English teacher? he wondered.  As it happens, about two and a half times that much.  Let's consider that.  While $8,750 a year doesn't even cover your mortgage in the US, it had him dreaming of a whole new lifestyle.

Now, everyone in the noodle shop thinks I'm rich.

Here's my theory.  Since asking isn't taboo, and since I'm not aware of a Chinese Bureau of Labor Statistics that keeps track of average salaries here (ironically, we do), it's the easiest way to get an idea of where you stand.  Am I earning what I deserve?  Assuming they get feedback on this frequently, they should already have a pretty good idea.  But since they may not get a chance to ask foreigners often, you're an interesting data point and probably an outlier.

As culturally flexible as I like to think of myself, there won't come a point where I'm entirely comfortable with the salary issue.  Financial matters are private matters in America, between strangers but also among friends and even within families.  Dad didn't talk to me about our own finances until my mid-teenage years.  There's a reason for it: it takes a long time to build a mature understanding of personal finance, and from the U.S. household savings rate (1-3% in recent years) you might wonder if we ever do quite get the hang of it. 

But China's problems are different.  China has little in the way of government safety nets or personal credit.  Your assets here are real estate and cash, and your credit is your family and your network of personal contacts.  As a (quickly) developing country with an unparalleled household savings rate of 38%, the government finds itself in the position of promoting LOWER savings rates to stimulate economic growth.  

So while an increasingly money-focused culture, a lack of cultural taboos and a simple case of curiousity may explain many of the salary inquiries, does this brazenness about money also help explain the savings rate?

An episode of the animated comedy King of the Hill finds the son, Bobby, eavesdropping on his dad, Hank, as he discusses his $1,000 yearly bonus.  Bobby misinterprets this as his dad's DAILY salary, and with daydreams of jetskis and hot tubs proceeds to go on a shopping spree with the credit card Hank reserves for emergencies. 

Do the Chinese avoid this kind of financial confusion and pass their thriftiness on to the next generation by keeping these matters out in the open? If you know how much your apartment costs and what the payment on the family car is and how much Mom and Dad make, you're better-equipped to make financial decisions from a young age.  Maybe you won't raid the rainy day fund to buy an Xbox.

Rude as the question may seem to foreigners in China, it's hard to criticize a country that saves almost half of each paycheck.  

I'll try to remember that the next time my taxi driver tells me to ask for a raise.

A month's difference

The end of August found me coming to grips with delaying my hopes to live abroad again in favor of looking for work in North Carolina.  And the last night of September? At a dumpling stand near the apartment I share with two Chinese people. Yes. In China. 

What a difference a month makes.

Four weeks ago, I got the green light on a Shenzhen manufacturing job I interviewed for back in May.  I bought the ticket, got the visa and started work the day after flying in.  My time since has been spent at work, catching up with my American friends here and practicing Chinese with anyone who will listen.  I'm enjoying my work and am glad to be back.  

How is living with Chinese people, you might be wondering?  One word: singing.  I've lived with Americans and Mexicans before, and nobody sings or hums with the ferocity and persistence of Chinese people at home.

With a solid year of China under my belt, my plan for this blog is less a series of narrative updates like last year and more a set of reflections on living in China, as well as my comments on China-related business news and current events.  That's the plan anyway.  Some reflections are brewing right now, in fact.

Stay tuned. Your China correspondent, Ryan Kane.

On traveling

I'm terrible at tourism.  Here I am, in Istanbul, sitting on a park bench near a Free Wi-Fi sign.  Glancing over my laptop screen, I can see the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque.  Went in both already.  Walked across the bridge to Asia and back to Europe.  Wandered around a bazaar and bought kebabs.  I'm traveling alone.  What now?

I'm just no good at it.  Paris to see Notre Dame?  The Coliseum in Rome?  Eh.  I know I'll just take a few pictures and cross it off the list.  Egypt to climb the Pyramids?  Maybe I'll do it some day, but oohing and ahhing at a stack of rocks and avoiding aggressive vendors is something I've done from China to Cambodia to Mexico.

Am I jaded?  Maybe.  I know I'm incredibly lucky to have seen the things I've seen at such a young age.  Absolutely so.  And to treat these world heritage sites so casually is a complete dismissal of their historical value.  But I'll read about the Blue Mosque and the Bund and the Great Wall on Wikipedia later, when I'm at home and bored.  When I'm there, I just want to casually explore the place with people I like.  Eat and drink and see exotic things with them in a new place.  For me, it's never where you travel but who you travel with. 

In my travels, I've met plenty of people going it alone.  Not just for a short stretch but for months and months at a time.  And I don't get it.  Traveling creates a set of shared memories exclusive to the people you travel with.  That's where the value is.  Austin and I traveled for six weeks through Europe.  Tomorrow he'll be hosting me in his city in Turkey, where he's working as an English teacher.  These are experiences we'll be able to look back on forever.  "Remember when...?"  "What about the time...?"  You can't separate the places from the people who were there.  Shanghai? Nicks F and G.  We tried to go to the 87th floor bar of the fanciest building in town but they scoffed at our attire so we bought beer at a grocery store and sat by the river.  Macau? Pretended to be high-rollers with Tori, Danny, Nick and Greg.  Mexico?  Skipped classes to go to Acapulco with John and Phil after they moved into my place because their host family was robbing them. 

Sure, some places are better than others.  But I'd rather be in Cleveland with good friends than in Bora Bora by myself (Ok, please don't test me on that).  Life is meant to be shared.  People are more important than places.  Now that I'm leaving China, my friends are spread all over.  Turkey, Colombia, China (still) and every corner of the US.  My wanderlust isn't served by exploring the hidden corners of Amazonia by myself.  It's satiated by meeting up with friends, wherever they may be.

Of all the reasons to travel, that's the best.

Order

During my lunch break, I return from a quick run.  As their sweaty, baseball hat-clad foreign teacher stumbles through the school gate, six students obediently bow and give a unified "Hello, Teacher."  I wipe my hands on my gym shorts and wonder what I could have done to deserve this respect.

Class time.  They're noisy again.  Multiple warnings and I finally flag down their head teacher.  Five minutes of rapid-fire, barking Chinese convinces 55 children to line up and, one by one, deliver a bow and an "I'm sorry, Teacher."  Some faces are tearful, some smirking, some an awkward hodgepodge.  I stand like the Chinese teachers do, one hand grabbing the opposite wrist behind the back, and try not to laugh.

There's a devastating earthquake in northern China.  Rather than depend on spontaneous donations, Beijing decides that April 21 will be the official day of mourning and charity.  Entertainment outlets from video websites to bars are shut down, with visitors instead directed to a variety of donation options.  Schools across the country have a morning assembly in support of the rebuilding effort.  Last fall, when a typhoon hit Taiwan, my school pressured me into donating a generous sum.  During the northern China earthquake assembly, I hide off campus and eat dumplings.  Later that day I learn how much many of the students gave.  I feel bad.

Ten top students make it into an English speech contest.  Because I'm the only native English speaker, I'm the judge at the rehearsal.  Ten cookie-cutter speeches praise China's recent global resurgence and offer the Beijing Olympics and the Shanghai Expo and the Chinese space program as proof.  Some sing the praises of yellow skin and black hair.  I need to ask each student a question so I lob ten softballs.  This is not the venue for constructive criticism.  As Cindy recites her essay from memory, I steal a glance at Jason pacing as he practices his for the last time.  If I didn't know these kids I'd think they were brainwashed.  But it's just another assignment. 

Early one April morning, men and women in orange hats begin to appear at the school gates.  Soon there are dozens, moving in locomotive-and-caboose pairs to assume control of each of the thirty classrooms.  They answer the question, "How do you safely escort 1,538 children to and from and within an amusement park?"  They are professional child-wranglers.  Unburdened, the Chinese teachers wander the park with no particular destination in mind.  Incredibly slowly.  I sneak off to play with the kids.  Outside of the classroom context, they love me.  They fight over who gets to sit next to me.

Every morning, 1,538 students march outside in unison to do morning exercises.  1,538 uniformed, goose-stepping, flag-saluting students.  One foreign teacher.  1,538 smiles and goofy looks as they pass me.  I know what those looks mean.  After they're done goose-stepping they'll get back to flicking paper clips and making paper airplanes in their desks.  Underneath the patriotism and respect and order, they're just kids.