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

 

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

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)

Hangzhou 杭州: Another weekend escapade

Hey!
So, finally, what you’ve all been waiting for…another travel post!

Last week some random French guy decided he wanted to go to Hangzhou for the weekend, seven people in ear shot casually shrugged and voiced their agreement. Thus, setting the laid back tone of this particular escapade.

I knew nothing about the city, only that it was located in another province (gasp!) 浙江, zhejiang, by ‘G’ (speedy) train it took about an hour and a half. Oh just a fun fact, you can tell the speed of the train by the letter in front of the train number, see this site for more info. http://www.travelchinaguide.com/china-trains/types.htm [Travel China Guide, 2013]

We stayed in Wushanyi, a YHA Hostel, highly recommended hostel chain in all parts of China for the most communal/back-packing/inexpensive/clean/trustworthy accommodation http://www.yhachina.com/index.php?hostID=2 [YHA China, 2013]

The hostel was located in the middle of an awesome district with wide streets, vintage style buildings, vibey cafes, interesting knick-knacks and street food. After one particular night of drinking we decided we needed food, so we weaved our way to a stall selling joy-on-a-stick. The centipedes looked appetising, the dried snake a tasty morsel and the seahorse most intriguing. After a discussion with the stall owner we settled on large, shiny black scorpions and a tarantula. The people stood and watched in horror and curiosity as we cackled over our purchases. After the obligatory selfies with my scorpion, I then looked at it to see which part I would eat first…the wicked curved tail? The little spindly legs? How about the head? I finally settled on the claw, fighting back my gag reflex and trying to not make eye contact with it, I crunched off a claw and chewed heartily. Hm…not bad. The shell got caught in my teeth but other than that…fine. I quickly polished it off with a victorious grin. Next, the tarantula. It was…as big as my palm. Breathing deeply, I grabbed a leg and snapped it off. My hand had a wild spasm at the revolting furry feeling of it and I dropped it. I almost left it at that, but then I realised that eating a tarantula is kinda a cool story. Almost eating one, not so much. Trying again, I took another leg and threw it in my mouth. Chew, chew, chew, swallow. Breathe. Such a cliche, but it tasted like…chicken. Burnt, furry, chicken. The abdomen was quite meaty and tasty, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat the head/body/pincers/eyes thing. Too creepy. I used to be quite afraid of spiders, but I hope that I can live by my friend, Nanna’s, philosophy and will think to myself everytime I see a spider “I nommed on your cousin, I ate his little legs one-by-one and they were tasty… watch out, I’m top of the food chain.”

Yeah, spiders beware.

Joy on a stick. All sorts of street food goodies. (Photo: Emccall, 11/13)

Hangzhou is a really nice place, we went to a tea village 龙井茶园 longjing chayuan and admired the view of the plantations whilst avoiding the hawkers. At the heart of the city is the UNESCO World Heritage site, West lake 西湖 xihu. If we had more time there, we would have hired bicycles and cycled around the lake to see all the gardens and temples etc. We also went up a mountain area to 灵隐寺 lingyinsi, a Buddhist monastery, there are other temples around on the mountain but this is the one to see. There’s an area called 飞来峰 feilaifang, it’s the opposite side of a wide brook, and little paths take you around to see amazing Buddhist rock carvings from the Yuan Dynasty 1271-1368AD. Jungle and cave exploration combined with the bright colours of Autumn and the fresh breeze made it the perfect end to our trip.

It was the first time I had returned home feeling completely refreshed and ready for another week of classes.

Buddhist rock carving in Feilaifang (Photo: Emccall 11/13)

My Chinese study experience (now with extra Chinese!)

Hey kids!  A kinda-translation-thing for ya’ll

I have been in China now for nearly 3 months now and I could be here for another half a year or so yet. Recently I heard the saying “A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” This got me thinking, what was the start of my ‘thousand miles’?  This is my third time to China, the first time I was here I toured Beijing with my highschool, I remember having very severe culture shock, I was only 17 and hadn’t seen much of the world. It was overwhelming, the smell of pollution, the traffic and people swarming the streets speaking in a language I didn’t understand. Up until that point, I had always wanted to study Fine Arts in University. After being in China for two short weeks, I decided to study something which was a complete mystery to me… linguistics and languages, so that I could experience more of the world. I changed my university choice to linguistics at the last moment and I often wonder how my life would have turned out if I had studied art instead.

The second time I came to China was in late 2011, I had the opportunity to show three friends around Beijing and Shanghai.  It was really exciting to be able to understand and speak some Chinese this time around , but still I felt very nervous about using Chinese and possibly (probably) making mistakes or misunderstanding people. The day after after we arrived in Beijing, I went to the train station to buy tickets,  I was so tired and I was asking the sales assistant whether or not there were tickets available to Haerbin departing “Yesterday” “Yesterday!” Another customer in the line then prompted me, “Do you mean…Tomorrow?” I was really embarrassed, but the people around were so forgiving and so genuinely pleased that I was even trying to speak Chinese that I felt marginally better about the whole ordeal.

To this day,  I still occasionally mix up “tomorrow” and “yesterday.” I have no idea why…

When I returned home, I continued my Chinese study in University, but I didn’t work particularly hard in some of my classes, as I felt that the content was not particularly relevant to my reason for studying Chinese. I couldn’t believe that I had struggled to order train tickets in China, whilst back at home we were being taught advanced vocabulary related to policy/business/bureaucracy/transactions/intercultural/transatlantic/transparency.

I realised that I had been so nervous about speaking Chinese, because I was feeling so overwhelmed by the endless grammar structures and hundreds of words I had been studying, difficult to recall and utilise when you’re trying to have a conversation with a Chinese taxi driver who speaks rapidly about American films in his thick, regional accent.

So, back in Australia, I was meeting many Chinese people who were studying at my University. It was easy to speak both Chinese and English with them, to learn from them and to befriend them. We are very lucky in Australia, we have so many people wanting to live, study and work in our country from all over the world, what an amazing chance to learn about foreign languages and cultures…

This time around, as soon as I stepped off of the plane in China I consciously let go of my insecurities and decided to embarrass myself by speaking to everyone I met in very loud, enthusiastic, grammatically incorrect Chinese.

I often remind myself that is has only been four short years since starting my escapades into China and Chinese, and in that time I have been able to venture out and make friends and have amazing experiences and overcome many challenges.

Some people study Chinese because they hope to take a high level HSK (the Chinese proficiency exam) for future employment options in both China and other countries. This is a very admirable goal, but it is not my main reason for being here. I’m here to meet, understand and befriend people from all walks of life. I want to  have fun with it! Learning a second language doesn’t have to be a chore, used solely as a tool for future employment use, make it your play thing,  laugh at yourself, make mistakes and revel childishly in the smallest achievements.

Peace Out!

Nanjing Massacre Museum

I decided that it was time to face something which I had been dreading, the Nanjing Massacre Museum, detailing the mass slaughter of Nanjing civilians by Japanese invading forces during the Second World War (December 13th, 1937). The grey, November sky was a perfect backdrop for our visit to that sombre, black stone building.  The first thing that you see as you walk to the entrance is a series of statues, human figures, bodies and faces distorted in various states of pain and panic. Look at the translated plaque beneath them, “The Devils have sent the bombers again, the poor orphans. Frightened by the vicious laugh of the brutal devils, Terrified by the corpses piling up in the alley…” Gritting my teeth, I mentally prepared myself for an afternoon filled with human tragedy and undisguised, volatile hatred towards the perpetrators. Visitors walk past a series of square-cut, grey structures. A monument stands with a repeatedly translated “300,00 victims” cut deeply into the side. Finally inside the museum. One of my group recognises the entrance-way as being built from the stonework from the destroyed old city wall. After an impressive light and sound show simulating a battle-field, we walked through to a room with a wall covered from top to bottom with the names of all the known victims. The character “女“ (nv, female) was written after many of the names, presumably to demonstrate that they are civilians rather than soldiers (I thought it was unnecessary, undoubtedly the males were just as innocent and defenseless). The memorial wall was a beautiful gesture and my defensive stance against the museum relaxed a little.

I waded through the swathes of highschool students in order to stand in front of each individual display, to read the plaques (translated from Chinese into English and Japanese) and to ponder on both the massacre as well as the present-day attitudes towards it. The first thing I noticed was that everything seemed very…disjointed. Each room had a loose theme, but it seemed as though someone had hoarded together everything which had a connection to that period in history and had scattered them throughout the exhibitions in a sort of “Find the Odd One Out” treasure hunt. You are looking at a torch used by a Chinese general moments before being shot in the leg, then you sidle along to the next artifact to read “This is a number plate from a wheel barrow used in 1937.” Wait, what? At best, it was bemusing, at worse, confusing and even insulting. Why would the curator place a photo of three children who had been killed by the invading force, directly next to a photo of the British ambassadors Mini? Are these two things somehow of the same import? How about the photo of a woman who had just been raped, next to a card about China’s financial situation of the times.

Smack bang in the middle of the building is an open mass grave, bones litter the ground and you can go around the outside to read in what horrific ways these people were killed. It was definitely too much, I cannot imagine why the bones needed to be on display, were the curators so desperate to make sure that the evidence was irrefutable that they would display human skeletons from only a couple of generations ago? I assume that these skeletons had not been identified, relatives would not know that their grandmother was down there, permission was not sought. In the same room were gruesome photos of the victims, next to them was a picture of two Japanese soldiers, noted for boasting about killing hundreds of Chinese single handedly. I noticed someone had slashed across their throats in that black and white photo.

Slit throats on photo of Japanese soldiers (Photo: emccall 11/13)

It was at this point I just wanted to walk straight out of the museum, indeed two of my friends left quickly after that. When I inquired as to why, they just said that they “got the idea pretty quickly.” However, hold strong and linger at the last couple of rooms. Bland, in comparison to the grand displays of the other rooms, but I stopped and read every bit of text and was very glad for it. A wall of pictures of present day survivors, as well as their testimonies, hung next to the quote “What we must remember is history, not hatred.”- Li Xiuying  “要记住历史，不要记住仇恨”－李秀英

Yes…YES!Was this the same museum? I felt like I was suddenly dealing with a whole different place. In that same room, the opposite wall was lined with present-day images and video archives of the people who had taken part in the massacre, with their testimonies. It made a strangely poignant juxtaposition with what we had been shown so far. These old Japanese men, crying and apologising for what had happened, taking full responsibility for their actions, saying that it must never happen again. Both sets of testimonies were used as evidence in the law suit which successfully brought the war criminals to justice. At the memorial site, were piles of paper cranes, folded by Japanese highschool students, wishes for ‘Peace’ were attached to them. A garden, donated by Japan, with a white statue of Lady Peace standing out amongst the grey buildings leads you out and back onto the streets of Nanjing.

My thoughts drifted back to the last thing visitors see before exiting the museum.

“Under the inspiration of the patriotic enthusiasm, we should struggle unceasingly for the construction of socialism with Chinese characteristics, the realisation of the peaceful reunification of our motherland, and the maintenance of world peace.”

I can’t help but feel disgusted by the governments use of a tragedy, the loss of hundreds of thousands of innocent lives, for their own propaganda purposes. They had clumsily added and subtracted from what could have been a poignant reminder of this incident and in doing so, had confused and dulled the lessons taught by history.

Paper cranes and wishes written in Japanese in memorial (Photo: emccall 11/13)