Being healthy in China (or, the only country where you can over indulge on cabbage)

Hey Kids,

As I’m down to my last couple of weeks here in China I wanted to write some more posts before I get absorbed back into the Western world. This is one that I’ve been meaning to write for a while, but it is also one that I’m glad I left to the end. I’m gonna try and keep this as observational and vaguely informative as possible.

So, you’ve just arrived in China.The last couple of weeks were spent partying and indulging on delicious home cuisine with tears in your eyes thinking about the next time you will get the chance to cuddle up with a hot chocolate and a cinnamon scroll. But that doesn’t matter, you’re in China now. The land of small waists and tiny, chopstick-sized mouthfuls. You feel a teensy bit excited about how easy it will be to get into that pair of jeans that were too small but you bought anyway cause they were on sale. Actually, they were currently lining the bottom of your suitcase in anticipation for that day to come.
The next thing you know, you are swept up in the gentle chaos that is China. Losing weight and eating well is the last thing on your mind, as so it should be.

When I got to Ji’an I realised that those too-tight jeans were even tighter. It got me thinking…what went wrong? When I was studying in Nanjing I was doing Taichi and Yoga weekly. I had tried to do some running, but was shortly put off due to the increasing smog levels. I felt like I ate pretty well at meal-times, always lots of veggies and very minimal meat.

It wasn’t until I started to notice my weight getting back to normal did I realise where those extra calories had come from.

1- A complete change in diet leads to cravings: In the west we eat a large amount of bread and wheat products, as well as A LOT of dairy. In China, these are two of the hardest things to find and the worst things to consume when you do find them. Whereas back home I would usually be found eating a salad sandwich with organic Rye bread or something, in China that wheat craving was replaced by Chinese bread which is NOT REALLY BREAD. I’m not entirely sure what it is, but the locals consider it a sort of confectionary snack, it is blindingly white and packed full of sugar. The same goes for dairy. I started taking calcium supplements because the lack of milk products was such a drastic change for my body, my fingernails were soft and cracked and I ate a lot of eggs because it was one of the only dairy sources I could find that seemed somewhat natural. China has a bad history of milk product poisoning (especially, baby formula, they always know about Australia because that’s where people buy their baby formula from) so I tried to avoid dairy as much as possible. However, when I did find it it was in the form of Bubble tea, drinking yoghurt and weird fruity flavoured milk drinks sold in convenience stores. All of these things are packed with sugar. So, you know, I couldn’t find that low fat Greek yoghurt I like so much.

Weird fruit milk. Looks like milk, tastes like apples. Probably has neither milk nor apples in it.

2- Communal meals don’t control portion sizes: A lot of the time when you eat out in China, you go to a restaurant with a bunch of other people and order approximately a dish each, which is then laid out on the table for everyone to attack with their chopsticks. If you have grown up eating a single serving on your own plate, like I have, then it becomes pretty tricky to work out how much food you need to eat before you are full. After a childhood of being told to ‘clean your plate’ it is psychologically hard to stop eating when confronted with a table full of food.

3- Chopsticks do not lead to taking smaller bites: Have you seen the locals eat? I think it’s even faster than a knife and fork because in China you just raise the bowl up to your mouth and basically pour the food in. None of this cutting, spearing, raising to the mouth junk.

4- Eating means you don’t have to talk: Sitting down with a large group of people to a meal generally means they will begin multiple conversations around you, speaking rapidly in a language that is hard enough to follow for you even without the background din of other rowdy diners. What do you do? You can’t just sit there, grinning like a fool while straining to hear the people on the other side of the table who may or may not have just mentioned the political situation in Xinjiang. So, you eat. Eating means you can smile, nod and generally look amiacable without seeming rude or so clearly out of your depth.

5- Vegetables do not equal healthy here: Yes, I will admit that I managed to raise my daily servings of vegetables from, like, three per day to ten. However, somehow I don’t think the health benefits count if said vegetables are fried in gallons of oil and seasoned with various amounts of white sugar, salt and MSG. The oil, salt and MSG also lend a very addictive quality to that innocent looking eggplant.

So, how did I overcome these problems whilst in Ji’an?

1- Cravings: Removed from Nanjing, I had even less options in a small city like Ji’an when it came to finding any substitutes for wheat and dairy. Also, I was more used to the diet by this point and didn’t feel that weird hunger after every meal anymore.

2- Communal meals: I was no longer in a big student body that wanted to go out for a communal meal almost every evening, so I had less instances of these. Also, when I went out I made sure to eat slower and to drink copious cups of tea-water-stuff. I also became more confident in speaking Chinese and made a point to start a conversation with the person directly next to me, thereby distracting me from my food.

3- Vegetarianism: I made the decision to embrace vegetarianism shortly after getting to Ji’an. I never particularly enjoyed eating meat, especially not the fatty, bone- ridden (dodgy) meat that you get in China.

4- Home cooking: With my own apartment and basic kitchen set up (*COUGH* a bucket as a sink, an electric pan, one bowl and a pair of chopsticks that the old woman downstairs gave me) I managed to work out how to make some pretty delicious meals using the vegetables that the villagers sold and no oil, no MSG and very minimal salt.

5- Exercise: It definitely helped that Ji’an has nearly zero pollution and that it was the middle of summer instead of the dead of winter. I bought a pair of rollerblades and proceeded to get insanely passionate about getting home from work in time to go for a skate around the university grounds.

Inline Skating with my friend. I’m the one on the right cracking up. (Photo: Emccall 2014)

So, in conclusion, losing and gaining weight is pretty common when dealing with such drastic changes to one’s circumstances. It isn’t something to be worried about and ain’t nobody got time to obsess over a pair of jeans in the middle of an adventure like living in China. However, I hope this might help some other foreigners in China who are wondering where they ‘went wrong.’ I also hope that people who have never lived in a foreign country for an extended period of time will be able to skip the scrutiny of someone’s outward appearance when they get home, and notice instead how much has changed inside.

The story of Jián and a bonus hilarious anecdote

IFChina, the NGO I am interning with here in Jián, is currently hosting two photographers from Nepal. These photographers founded Photo.Circle (a cultural NGO in Kathmandu) and we are lucky enough to be basking in their wisdom. I’m a staff member here, so it means I’m not taking part in the photography assignments but I enjoy being camera woman, occasional translator and all-round helpful person. I love being able to reflect on how far I’ve come during my 6 months here, from completely bamboozled and feeling out of my depth to working on a project like this one. I get to share my cultural knowledge, observations and advice with two outsiders and I also get to appreciate how awesome it is knowing the language when I see the two photographers trying to work out how to buy food. Like….Chinese is so totally useful!

The photography project that we are working on is ‘The Story of Jián’ and I think it is very poetic that this is one of the last things I am going to be involved in during my stay here. Participants are shooting stories of everyday people of Jián (characters that feel familiar to me now) and places that I’ve been to. In the end, we will have a collection of photos which are a sort of… time capsule of this city. I like that I will always have these photos to look at, because I know that when I come back, whenever that will be, the people and the city would have already changed. Such is the nature of China. It is a place that is constantly developing.

I am helping put together an exhibition of the photos, which is also exciting and totally surreal (like, am I really helping coordinate an exhibition of street photography in the middle of China… I feel like this was a dream of mine that I hadn’t even realised I had.) And everyone will be given a book of all the photos. Really, the greatest souvenir of my time here.

A quick hilarious anecdote (Dedicated to my friend Sophie who wants funny stories for her script writing projects.)

The other day I went with the Nepalese photographers to meet children from a nearby village who are involved in an IFChina photography project. I was acting as translator, when one serious little 9 year old girl asked me why I was the one translating when the photographers clearly looked more Chinese than me. After explaining that they were from a nearby country and spoke a different language, she nodded thoughtfully and added that other languages are not the same as Chinese and that words in other languages don’t really mean anything in Chinese. I agreed with her in all seriousness. Then she asked me why her own Chinese accent was better than mine, even though I was older.

One of the photographers decided to do a short activity with the children. We were in a park and it was a good location for them to run around in, taking photos. They were given four things to find and photograph. Firstly, something pretty. They sprinted off and naturally took photos of interesting rocks and flowers. Secondly, they had to take a photo of something ugly. One girl presented her photo of a fat man proudly, her friend pushed ahead and showed us her photo of the fat man’s fat child. As the third thing was announced, as luck would have it, a wedding party and some kids on rollerblades were approaching us. They had to take a photo of something moving fast. Half of the kids went and harrassed the bride to try to make her walk faster, the other half formed a hunting party to chase after the children on rollerblades. Chaos ensued. Finally, after the poor children on rollerblades were driven far from the area nearly in tears, they were told to take a picture of something they hadn’t seen before. Most of them went and took pictures of (more) interesting rocks and flowers, but one little girl came up and told me to pose so she could take a picture of me “I’ve never seen someone with white skin before” she said. Smart kid.

Cute kiddie wonkles (Photo: Emccall 2014)

Something Moving Fast (Photo: Emccall 2014)

How to get fluent in Chinese (for realz)

Hey kids,

So there has been an aspect of this whole China experience that I’ve by and large ignored. That is, my Chinese language journey. I came here after finishing 3 1/2 years of Chinese study for my University major. I was feeling pretty unsatisfied with the prospect of graduating with this piece of paper touting my language ability, when personally, I was pretty unsure of how far that ability actually extended to. I had never gotten myself together to take the standard Mandarin exam, the HSK, so I didnt have that score to rely upon. And besides, I found that I had trouble writing characters by hand, simply because I was more focussed on conversational ability. The HSK exam largely assesses reading, writing and grammar structures. Thus, I decided that I needed time to focus on these technicalities. Introducing…an intensive Chinese language program conducted in Nanjing university. I found studying in China vastly different to your standard exchange experience. Because we were taking Chinese classes for second language speakers, most of the people I interacted with were exchange students too. Apart from my Korean friends, we all socialised in English to accommodate differing levels in Chinese. The classes were monday to friday,   8am until 12pm. Students were placed into appropriate level classes and could choose to swap as they pleased. Classes were taught by native Chinese, most of whom spoke little more than a scattering of English. The classroom environment was entirely Chinese, regardless of level. Homework consisted of review and prep of lessons. Subjects included reading, writing, speaking, listening and bonus classes such as newspaper reading, history, ancient Chinese and HSK prep which you could choose at your leisure. I personally chose to fill my spare time with brush painting, taichi and getting private lessons on the Erhu (traditional Chinese instrument.) These were all taught in Chinese and I felt greatly benefited because I was genuinely interested in these things. I felt frustrated by my inability to meet locals though, as our accommodation and classes were held in separate buildings.  We were segregated. To get around that, I tried many different schemes. I found a local language partner, made sure to go straight to the few chinese who went to the same parties I did. I met some really great people just by being open to those really random approaches that often happen here in China. But it still wasnt forming the core of my interactions. Frustrated with my lack of immersion, even while in China, as well as feeling generally over studying Chinese (saturation point is quickly reached and there are only so many hundred characters you can stuff into your brain before needing a break and a chance to consolidate.) Deciding that I was more than happy to call it quits on the study, I started looking for other…opportunities… in China. My plan had been to go travelling, Tibet, Nepal etc. But I wasnt ready to leave my Chinese level where it was currently at. I still wouldnt feel happy upon graduating. I’d feel…dishonest somehow, like I didnt deserve my accreditation.

An internship was suggested to me, and I decided it was just the thing.
I applied for a whole heap and got a whole heap of responses. I was most interested in one in Beijing and one in small city Ji’An. Well, I decided to put in my best and go for the most difficult option. To move away from any safety blankey expat communities I might latch onto in Beijing, to go to a small city in a (seemingly) distant province. It was the best decision I could have made.

I struggled with the language and cultural barriers, but as they say, nothing worth obtaining is easy. As I am getting to the last stages of my time here, I realise that it really hasnt been that long at all. But I feel like Ive achieved a lot.

I had a breakthrough moment not long ago. I went to a social enterprise workshop with my collegues and a whole group of young people involved in the small (but growing) NGO sector in China. I was really nervous, thinking that no way would I be able to follow what was going on, it would be a complete waste of time where I would embarrass myself by asking ‘what?’ too many times. Well, it was hard and occasionally I needed a translation of some of the more complicated concepts, but overall I learned some valuable things and feel inspired about my own future in NGO organisations. It felt  amazing to be able to sit in small group discussions about project planning and troubleshooting and to be able to make a meaningful contribution. I forgot that I was speaking Chinese because I was more focussed on what I was actually trying to communicate.That’s not to say that I knew every word that was being said, or that I followed every conversation, or that I spoke with even mildly correct grammar, or that I never had to ask someone to repeat or rephrase what they said…but I still made it to the end and dammit I’m gonna take that as a victory.  When I finally finished the three day intensive, I found everything else so much easier. General chitchat, asking for directions… how could that make me nervous now?

Learning a language is all about roadblocks and overcoming roadblocks. The more you learn, the harder the roadblocks get and the harder they are to overcome.

With this new confidence in speaking and understanding spoken chinese, I feel like I can finally see past another block. I know that I need to sit down, study some more complicated vocabulary (those annoying words that I can talk around, or substitute for an English word but eventually need to learn) and take it back out onto the field.
Being fluent in Chinese isnt about a piece of paper from university, or about a number on an exam. To be fluent in Chinese all you need is the confidence to answer the question “are you fluent?” …with a defiant “yes, bitches!” Because confidence in your second language is the most valuable thing you could ever learn. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not good enough. They usually are the ones who feel the least confident in their own ability.

Haters gonna hate (Photo: Emccall 2014)

Least favourite fashion trend

Let’s keep this one short (no pun intended).

So, it has come to my attention that maybe some women are quite self-conscious about their height and many take to wearing ridiculously high and uncomfortable-looking shoes (see this earlier post https://soaringredbucket.wordpress.com/2013/09/27/platform-thongs/)

When I had some time off I went to Ganzhou, a considerably large city located some time out of Ji’an. My friend decided to take me to check out the particular bulbous mountains and traditional Hakka fortified villages (See wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hakka_walled_village)

The bus ride was for four hours and was followed by another half an hour ride to get to the mountain base. The climb was steep although there were steps for most of the way and the day was hot and humid.

As I puffed my way up the mountain in my hiking shoes and sensible clothing, I was amazed at the amount of women who had insisted they dress up for the photo opportunity a mountain may present them with and complete the outfit with a remarkably high pair of shoes.

This particular woman needed her boyfriend to ensure she didn’t topple head first down that flight of stairs onto the rocks below.

Everyone should be free to their own choices in life. But really, shouldn’t high heels and tight dresses be reserved for…you know…flat, stable surfaces?

Just saying.

My favourite (optional) fashion trend

Hey Kids!

This is something I’ve been meaning to blog about for a while, but with the coming of summer and the surge in the amount of girls wearing tshirts and short(ish) shorts, this has really come to my attention.

Prepare yourselves, Western women (and men) for some shocking, radical and…earth breaking news.

Female body hair is optional.

[Shock, horror, women begin to hyperventilate and pass out at their desks, men walk away in stoic silence to mull things over in a faraway land. In the background, a child begins to weep piteously at this unknown assailant and its mother can offer no comfort because she is currently slumped over the computer with her nose pressing down on the keyboard jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj]

That’s right, for you who have not succumbed to the above. Here in China it is actually pretty common for women to simply let their natural body hair…be all, well natural. Why is this? Some may argue that it’s because Chinese simply have less body hair than their Western counterparts and therefore it is a non-issue because they didn’t have any to begin with.

Well, just like everything there is natural variation. True, on average, Han Chinese people naturally have less body hair than Westerners, but that doesn’t mean that every Chinese woman walks around with all areas of her body a smooth as the sale of donkey meat to ignorant tourists (which is to say, very.)

I can say this, because I have taken many a yoga class during my time here and let me just say I was enlightened in more ways than one during the Salute to the Sun pose.

I have to say that I found that tuft of black hair under a demure woman’s arm, and the shadowy look to the calf in those rolled-up jeans  at first confronting, then fascinating and finally enviable (always with the jeans and exercise, what is with that?).

Here I am, wasting precious time with a bar of soap and a sharp object in my hand veritably  hacking at my body hair to fit in with a societal norm which was pressed onto me at the unquestioning age of 12 and which I have been following ever since.

Well, I say, it’s unfair!

I’ll tell you why women cringe, men snigger or girls blush when they see hair anywhere but on a female’s head (although, granted sometimes even even that hair isn’t completely real.)

Because the treatment of body hair is based on cultural practice. Why are 11, 12 and 13 years old girls  in the West shamed and handed a razor quietly by their mothers? Because some high class snobs thought that 15th Century french prostitutes were simply delightful to emulate. (And, of course because shaving companies enjoy making a profit.)

Well, it seems those french ladies didn’t make it to China. And those shaving companies were not exactly allowed into China until recently. Now, I know as China rapidly urbanises and globalises that there will be more of this Western cultural influence putting pressure onto Chinese women to shave (and, of course, for Chinese men to demand that it be thus) but for the time being I am so happy that a woman is allowed to choose what she does with her own body hair. That, like makeup, it is optional and can be adhered to in various degrees of ‘giving a shit’.

I’m just sad that my cultural programming doesn’t include an easy ‘opt-out’ function.

It’s summer, and as I rip open my packet of razors sent to me from home because they didn’t have any going for cheap in China, I shed a tear. Caught in thoughts of my Chinese friends outside playing badminton in short(ish) shorts, not even thinking about the shadow on their legs or the extra keratin under their arms.

 

Getting my point across Photo: Emccall 2014

 

Things China just does better

I have a lot of rants to do with China, so I decided it was time for a post about some things that China just does better than back home in Australia.

Playing

After work my Chinese friends usually ask me to  出去玩 (chuqu wan) However, when they literally translate this sentence into English and ask me whether I want to “Go out and play,” they subsequently ask me why I’m laughing. They get really confused when I say that children will “play” but everyone else just kind of…Hangs out. Chills. Has a drink or something. Which got me thinking…why is it unacceptable to ‘play’ back home, but here, I always ‘go out to play.’ ? And I’m not exaggerating either. Most of my activities here consist of games and sports. Like, after work we’ll grab a ball and muck around for a couple of hours. It doesn’t even matter that none of us are very good. Whereas I kinda get the feeling the only people who play sports back home are people who are actually somewhat decent at sports. It’s not really ‘playing’ it’s ‘practicing.’ I also run this theatre workshop in the office every Sunday, and it always surprises me how damn enthusiastic everyone is about playing theatre games.

The University is about five minutes from my apartment and at all times of the day there are people utilising every bit of space with their activities. It’s about 6pm and students are out practicing a  dance routine together, teaching each other kungfu on the basketball courts or even rollerblading (I am so keen to get myself some rollerblades and join in!) And that’s just the students. The infamous ‘square dancers’ come out at about 8pm and proceed to take over the school grounds. These dancers are groups of old (50+) women who gather and spend hours dancing together in a strange pop/aerobics/traditional Chinese fusion dance. I don’t know how they get themselves so organised, but anywhere you go in China, the ‘square dancers’ will be there. So, maybe the community has a bit of a problem with them (think: noise complaints, see: http://www.chinasmack.com/2014/stories/residents-buy-speakers-to-yell-at-noisy-public-plaza-dancers.html)  But I think they are absolutely wonderful. Because this desire they have to get together, be outside and be active is so healthy! The phenomenon of isolated, lonely, unhealthy retirees happening in the West can be combated with this sort of activity. It would be great if I could start dancing in the park for the old people back in my town.

Overall, we could definitely learn from the Chinese attitudes of being outside, in groups, having fun. It is my favourite thing about China.

Also, to anyone who says that Chinese people are generally ‘shy’ or ‘quiet’ I will laugh in your face, because there is definitely a lot more noise and enthusiasm on the streets here than I’ve ever seen in Rundle Mall.

 

A pretty standard afternoon on one of about 20 University courts (Photo: Emccall 2014)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not giving a shit about what others think

I went to a theatre performance the other day and was pleasantly surprised yet again by people’s willingness to laugh. I say that, because, I dunno, if I went to a theatre performance back home people would feel that they would have to keep the laughs to a polite level, make sure that everyone else was laughing too, so as not to show that they were enjoying it too much and thus risk looking like a fool. At this show, people were standing up and laughing, guffawing, my friend was actually slapping her knee and tears were coming from her eyes. All from a skit that went for about two minutes and was somehow mocking Titanic. But it’s something I love about a lot of people I meet here, they’re quick to laugh and smile and don’t seem to care whether anybody else found it funny or not. They always seem to be looking for the next joke.

Also, I’ll add to this category with sneezing and burping in public. I have never heard one of those weird ‘stifled’ sneezes here. If you gotta sneeze, you gotta sneeze. And burping cracks me up. On a public bus? No worries. Nobody turns around or gives the perpetrator that squinty eyed look of disapproval. Everyone continues as normal and it’s only me, the foreigner, feeling like a should be offended. But somehow I can’t bring myself to care.

Recycling

Ok, so overall China isn’t exactly leading the way with this whole environmental stuff. But at the grassroots level, I would have to say that people are always looking for ways to reuse things. They don’t seem to like throwing things away (although as to where those piles of rubbish are coming from…?) I  bought a little convector stove top for my apartment and I put all my rubbish in the box it came in to throw it away later on. My friend comes over and she asks me whether I’m just going to throw that box away, didn’t I have any use for it? I said that I didn’t, so she took the box and gave it to the landlady who accepted it happily. I also give all my bottles to the landlady and she uses them for various things.

Those are just small examples, but my favourite instances of recycling usually involve gardening. Since a lot of people around here used to live in the countryside and farm, they are very good at growing things in the most seemingly inhospitable environments. I’ve seen a construction site with piles of slag rock and dirt which have been planted out with seedlings in perfect rows. They don’t seem to mind that ‘one day’ their little gardens will be destroyed for the next apartment block. They’ll just keep planting. In buckets on the street, on the nature strip next to the road. It is all fair game. And it is beautiful to walk past these flourishing little gardens everyday, old women harvesting their veggies from down the road while chatting to passer-by’s, old men sitting outside their homes in the evening selling bunches of organic produce for one RMB a piece.

I think the thrifty culture of China persists to this day, strangely in juxtaposition to the rampant materialism which also is very visible here. It’s funny how hard people try to be ‘environmentally friendly’ back home (paying through the nose for organic produce and setting up complex recycling systems), but here reusing materials and eating your own organically grown vegetables is just a way of life. I hope this way of life can persist as more and more Chinese are moving (either forcefully or by choice) into the big cities.

Peace Y’all

Reusing an old suitcase for some plants is really quite common (Photo: Emccall 2014)

I don’t understand what you said but, apparently, I’m a Royal Sister?

I have been currently living in Ji’An for a month, working at my new job for all of three weeks. So far, I’ve been to two mountains, three villages and on a bike-ride through the countryside. I’ve had staff meetings, been to documentary screenings and a sketching class. I’ve started working on a large scale community project and every week must host a two hour theatre workshop.

I am trying to work, explore and make new friends here…

and it’s hard.

I have to keep reminding myself that moving to a small city and starting a new job is pretty challenging as it is, and that I should feel proud to have made it this far. The fact that I’ve done all this in China, speaking Chinese, should make me feel even more satisfied. Right?

But… I can’t help but bemoan my Chinese ability when I consider how much my current level of Chinese is restricting me from doing more things, meeting more people…

This isn’t a classroom where the teacher speaks in moderated, standard accent Mandarin, using standard expressions and full phrases. Here, everyone I meet has their own unique way of talking. They all come from different provinces, and I’ve already learned that if they come from Ganzhou they say ‘r’ as ‘l’, if they come from Ji’An they say ‘n’ as ‘l’, if they come from northern provinces they say ‘s’ as ‘shi’ and ‘shi’ as ‘si’ and if they come from rural Jiangxi they say ‘shi’ and ‘s’ as ‘s.

Most of the people I’m interacting with are in their twenties so use a heap of net vocabulary that I just can’t keep up with.When I tried to tell them that I was excited for our expedition I was told to instead say 我很HIGH,  [I am very high], cause it was cooler than the word I used.  When one of the girls insisted she wasn’t tired as she was going up the mountain, everyone laughed and called her  nuhanzi

“…literally meaning a manly woman or a tomboy – a woman who thinks and acts like a man and is yet more than just an unceremonious woman.” [See: http://offbeatchina.com/the-rise-of-nu-han-zi-in-china-manly-ladies-who-challenge-chinas-traditional-female-image%5D

Definitely not something you would find in a textbook, or in a dictionary for that matter. It has only been around for a few months but these words seem to catch on like wildfire, leaving the second language learners always a few steps behind.

Playing catch-up everyday in every situation is exhausting, sometimes I can’t wait to crawl back to my apartment and speak in English on Skype. When I get tired after a day at work or whatever, the last thing I wanna do is put myself into a situation where I feel lost in a group conversation or struggling to express my opinions on something. But I have to. Otherwise I would become a social recluse and never learn anything. It helps though when the people I’m hanging out with take the time to explain things to me, to speak a bit slower even when they’re speaking together so I can join in if I want to. To appreciate that I’m trying my very best and that if I don’t understand to say it again or wait for me to look something up on my phone.

I have a lot more empathy for the many people who come to Australia speaking English as their second language, I now fully understand why the international students can be so quiet in class and might struggle to make friends with those who are not from their own country.

I was hanging out with a group of girls the other day, and one of them turned to me and said something with a huge smile on her face. I hesitated, wondering whether I should pretend to understand her, but decided to confess my confusion. She whipped out her phone and tapped away, before showing me an explanation in Chinese of a new slang word. 御姐 yujie, this literally means Royal Sister, and it is used to describe young women with the following traits: 20-30 years old, mature, wise, confident, has initiative and style, elegant and considerate. [Source: http://baike.baidu.com/view/2864.htm (Chinese only)] She pointed at me and said that I was a Royal Sister. Although I’m sure she wasn’t saying I possessed all these traits, it was still the nicest thing to say to me, because I felt so happy that even when stumbling over words and getting lost in conversations and feeling like the stupidest, most clumsiest human being on the planet, that I still managed to make a good impression on someone and that she bothered to take the time to get to know me regardless.

Peace y’all

A Miao minority woman posing with me at JingGang Mountain (Photo: Emccall

打太极拳、拉二胡、画中国画：Studying Taiqi，Erhu and Chinese brush painting

I decided to write a little summary some of my studies here, since my classes are quickly drawing to a close and I’m sadly moving onto other things for the time being. I wrote it originally in Chinese, because final exams are next week and I really, really needed some practice. Enjoy!

　　我学了太极拳三个月了，我现在能打一个很简单的２４步骤态样，也学了一半的太极剑态样。　我的老师，杨老师，的父亲是一位太极拳名家。杨老师老了，　不过还很康强、手脚灵活，　老了的时候要打太极拳，我觉得你要现在开始。　在公园跟老人打太极拳是一个我的梦想，我喜欢在中国老人能自由行动、健身、社会化、尊重的，比西方不同的，我想退休以后在中国花时间打太极拳、搓麻建、等。原初.我看过太极拳以为很漫漫的，所以容易的，然后打太极拳觉得很不舒服，我的身体不太自然的，我真知道每个奥妙的步子才能觉得强力的、大大方方。但是，　还有一些很难的步子，我要联系努力．．．很高兴有足够时间啊！

For my three months here I have been taking Taiqi classes, so far we’ve finished the basic pattern and over half of a sword combination (with my new practice sword!) The late father of our teacher (Yang) is apparently a very well-known Taiqi master in this area, although she hasn’t really mentioned much about him, we hear rumors…Teacher Yang is incredible, she is an older woman but she continually surprises us with her strength and flexibility, I know a lot of people think they will take up Taiqi when they’re older, but really you have to start as young as possible to get to her level. My little fantasy with Taiqi has always been to practice Taiqi in the parks with the old folk, it’s such a common thing to see around China, I love the way that seniors here are very independent, they go out with friends, exercise everyday in the outdoors and enjoy the general respect of their community. It is quite different to the Western culture of loneliness and isolation so prevalent in the older population. When I’m retired, I will come to China, do Taiqi and play Mahjong all day long. Bliss. When I first watched Taiqi, I thought it was slow and therefore easy, when I started practicing I was at first quite awkward and off-balance but when I learned the moves thoroughly it felt as natural as breathing, although some moves are just crazy-hard (how does Teacher Yang keep her leg above her head for ten seconds without breaking a sweat?) luckily, I have plenty of time to improve…

　　在南京大学我也开始学了二胡，我第一次来到中国看到一个老公拉二胡，我觉得是很特别的乐器，二胡自然的声音比唱歌差不多， 我不会唱歌，所以我要拉二胡我的老师很熟练的、友好的和用汉语为教我, 学什么东西用汉语你的汉语水平一定提高了，因为二胡是一个特别的中国乐器，为什么用英语学吧？二胡不太难的，我已经会弹钢琴，不过我的手很小，有时候不太舒服，我也觉得为把那个弓比把筷子办法一样的，对西方人很麻烦。我拉二胡以后，不会用筷子，因为我的手疼痛的。

I have also started studying the Erhu (Chinese traditional instrument, a two-stringed cello), when I first came to China I was fascinated by this instrument that old beggars would play on the streets, it has a really ‘Chinese’ sound to it, and it’s pitched similar to the human voice. Because I can’t sing for peanuts, I might as well play the Erhu. My teacher is great, she is incredibly skilled and has toured Europe playing in orchestras, she also insists on using only Chinese in our lessons. Can I just say, the best way to learn a language is to study something, anything using that language. Also, why on earth would I study a Chinese instrument in English? It would just be strange, like reading Shakespeare in Chinese (apparently, they really struggled translating the ambiguous line ‘to be, or not to be’) Erhu isn’t too hard to learn with a bit of patience, but my hands are quite small and some positions can be uncomfortable. Also, the technique for holding the bow is actually the same as holding chopsticks, so a bit of a disadvantage for Westerners…after a long session of playing Erhu my hand hurts so much I can only eat my rice with a spoon.

　　最后，我每个周一学了中国画，在家，我学人物写生了，不过在这儿没有地方能随便画画儿吧，我了解能画中国画的时候我很高兴！我们学了很传统的中国画，比如画了果园、竹子、梅花、对虾、等等。我画了很多画，要联系很多，能中国画送给我家人。我买了毛刷和墨水，所以我能继续画中国画，我很败兴的因为我想画金鱼，我最喜欢的中国画，不过我的老师说了比较难的，没有时间，能自己画画儿。

The last thing on my busy schedule, every Monday I took classes in Chinese brush painting. At home I do art classes, so I was really excited when I found that these brush painting classes were offered at the University. We studied really traditional figures, like orchards, bamboo, plum blossoms, shrimp etc. You get shown the method for this and that and then you just have to practice it over and over until every brush stroke is perfect. I did a wardrobe full of paintings, I think I know what all my family will be getting for Christmas this year, and next year too. I bought my own brushes and ink too so that I could do my own stuff once classes were over,  I was disappointed because we never got to learn the fish design, which is my favourite in traditional Chinese art, our teacher said it was a bit more advanced and we ran out of time. I guess I will just have to work it out myself (maybe with a little YouTube help too…)

我学了三个特别中国的技艺，连时间不太长的，也了解了三个重要的学语言办法：

Three things that  I learned about studying language from studying some random stuff in China:

1。如果在将来要做什么东西，要现在开始吧。(If you want to do it well when you’re ‘older’, you have to start now.)

2。如果你要语言学得好，不能只学语言，要学每个东西用那个语言，也很有意思的。(If you want to study language, don’t just study language, study random things using the language, it’s way more interesting.)

3。如果要改进什么水平，与其等待为老师教你，不如自己尝试。 (If you want to improve, rather than waiting for the teacher to teach it, just go ahead and try to work it out for yourself.)

Peace ya’ll

Lea, Teacher Yang, Martyna and I in our Taiqi outfits (Photo: 11/13 LKorva)

Learning the technique for painting plum blossom (photo: 11/13 emccall, painting by lecturer)

Dystopia is PM 2.5

I look outside my window and I am blinded by the strange yellowy glow, the highrise buildings I can normally see are completely obscured. There is no horizon, I start to feel claustrophobic. I look away and down at my hands instead. I try and pretend that it is fog, but fog does not smell like petrol and dust. I jump as a guy walks into the elevator wearing a black face mask, the filter on it is creepy, not like the pink bunny ones that people normally wear. In class, we hear the news that schools in Nanjing and Shanghai have been closed. I understand why as we sit through four hours of dry coughing, my teacher has to drink water before she can speak. My nose is running, my throat is raw, I’m really tired, I know I do not have a cold because everybody else says that they are feeling the same. People with good jobs don’t have to go to work. The construction workers outside the classroom aren’t so fortunate, they continue to jackhammer the pavement into the night.

Like the dystopian futures predicted by Sci-Fi writers for centuries, we are being poisoned by the very air that we breathe.

People talk all day about the air quality, like commenting on the weather, but underneath every comment lies a modicum of fear. Afraid that it will only get worse as the years progress, China has not committed to improving their air quality levels, their stance is that high levels of PM 2.5 is merely the by-product of economic development (Particulate Matter size 2.5 microns is the main category of pollution monitored by government departments and is fine enough to enter the respiratory system.)

Recently, there was a report of an 8 year old girl living in Jiangsu province who died of lung cancer, it was linked to air pollution (see report: http://www.theguardian.com/environment/chinas-choice/2013/nov/07/china-air-pollution-eight-year-old-cancer, The Guardian, Duggan, 2013).

People are being killed by something which you can see, taste, smell, choke on. Where are the protests, where is the outrage, where is the anger? I see complacency by the people as well as by the government, just as predicted, centuries ago…is this the perfect sci-fi dystopian future?

Imagined Dystopia: Original 1982 artwork for the Sci-Fi movie “Blade Runner”

Dystopia: Industrial Jiangsu Province, China, 2013

The Laowai effect

The Laowai 老外 (laowai-foreigner) effect. I’ve probably mentioned before that being a foreigner in China means you will encounter many interesting, strange phenomena. It’s mostly limited to staring, photos (hiding in the background of your photos so it looks like you’re posing together.. ) random people wanting to make conversation with you more than they would at home, free drinks, overpriced clothing, shouts of ‘hello’ or ‘welcome to China’ without an attempt to converse any further, being discussed by people whilst they’re standing right next to you, being told “I don’t speak English” even when you’re already speaking Chinese and old people trying to pawn their son/daughter/niece/nephew/family-friend/that guy onto you.

So what can one do with this mix of positive and negative experiences, positive and negative attention brought on simply because of how you look? Everyone reacts differently; unphased, aggressive, embarrassed, amused, uncomfortable, etc. Some people glory in their new-found fame, and some people use it as an opportunity…

Today, I asked a 30-something Westerner guy in my class how his weekend was. He began to regale myself and the other students with a tale of his trip to a mountain village with a Chinese woman he had been chatting to for at least a week on popular IM service, WeChat. He told me how lucky he was that she didn’t ask him to meet her parents, because in China-speak that apparently means “we’re getting married!”

Or so he’s been told.

Anyway, so he goes on a wonderful hike up the mountain with her and her two young children. At the top, she tells him why the husband is no longer around. She was really upset and in tears after telling him of her tragic past. Leaning forward he taps his nose knowingly, a serious look on his face, “Chinese men are awful” He tells me “There’s something totally wrong with them and the culture here.”

That night he, like the model gentlemen that he is, decided to not make a move.

“It didn’t feel right after she told me about her ex.” he said with a frown. Suddenly his expression clears,”… I definitely had the opportunity…My mates were disappointed though when I told them, we all thought it would be a  more…interesting trip…ah, well, I have this date next week with a Chinese woman, she’s a fashion designer…”

Myself and the guy sitting opposite me shared equally bewildered looks, before turning back to our books without comment.

This is not the first time I’ve heard this guy say things like this, gloating about how many Chinese women he dates. This is not the first guy here I’ve heard say things like this, for example the 20-something who told me that he had so many women chasing him just because he was white, he dated some of them and his girlfriend broke up with him when he mentioned this (‘she wouldn’t marry me,’ he told me, ‘and now she wants me back because there are so many women here who will.’) Looking to the perpetuated stereotypes of Chinese women, some expat men say that they want a Chinese girl because they are ‘traditional women’ who know how to ‘treat men’, who are so much more attractive and more feminine than these gosh-darn Western women. Apparently, it is because Chinese men ‘don’t respect women like we do’ that Chinese women are so ‘crazy’ about Western men.

I think anyone who has spent any period of time in China has met at least one laowai who has said a combination of the above.

I raise it here, because it is shameful, inexcusable behaviour. These people and these sorts of statements manage to be racist as well as sexist and to offend both Chinese men and Chinese women…actually, all women everywhere!

So, yeah, I’m kind of sick of hearing this sort of thing.

I’d say ‘go home’…but I wouldn’t want anyone there to have to endure your bigoted attitudes either.

I’d warn the women here about you…but they’ll figure it out even before you refuse to see their family and slink off back to the WeChat ‘find-a-friend’ function.

What some Laowai must think happens in China… (Image: CharismaMan.com 2013)