Encountering the Peculiarities

This post came from an idea of an email to my sister-in-law (my husband’s sister) who is coming to Shanghai with her son for a visit in June. I wanted to give her a heads up what it is like here, to sort of prepare her so that the shock would not be too big of a blow to her, whose adult life has only seen a quiet western suburb of Chicago.

During her ten day visit in Shanghai, she will encounter a lot of the “peculiarities” that I describe below. I call them “peculiarities” because they are strange and unusual to a westerner.

With a population of 1.3 billion, the crowded conditions are hard to miss. An old saying in China “people mountain people sea” (人山人海) which means very crowded, describes it all. This requires a fair amount of pushing and shoving to get into any form of public transportation. The good thing is, you may be offered a seat – this is all part of your celebrity status as a foreign guest! At the same time, don’t be surprised if people come up with attempts for a conversation. Their unanimous excuse is that they would like to practice their English with you. This can be very annoying to some foreigners, while others completely enjoy having a conversation with perfect strangers. If you are the private type and find it irritating, or don’t feel like giving out free language lessons, feel free to feign sickness or an inability to speak English. :-)

The crowdedness is made worse by the ever booming car culture, especially in cities like Beijing and Shanghai. China’s famous bicycle culture no longer prevails while more and more people prefer cars to bicycles. With more private car owners, the problem on the road is also growing. Chinese drivers have a propensity to drive in the middle of the road regardless of lane markers. Coupled with the fact that a yellow light is usually interpreted as a signal to speed up, this makes many intersections very dangerous places.

When sightseeing in tourist spots, it’s quite normal for complete strangers to ask if you would like to pose for a picture with them. After that, you will be showered with raving comments of your good look and fantastic physique – many foreigners are delighted to find they are very handsome or beautiful after coming to China!

Even though Shanghai is a big city with people having more contact with foreigners, the locals still see them as a curiosity and fascination. Foreigners attract a lot of attention, usually in the form of staring, pointing, giggles, endless shouts of “hellos” at you. This is a place to feel like a rock star!

This massive attention, wanted or not, also applies to shopping. When shopping in a supermarket, for example, it is nothing out of the ordinary to be surrounded by strangers who take great interest in the contents of your shopping cart. Lots of smiling and pointing is inevitably part of the exchange but it’s all in good fun. Many Chinese people are not used to seeing foreigners. They are just curious.

The Chinese notion of personal space is very different from the west. An average North American would require more personal space than a Chinese person in a face to face communication and aslo a lineup. This difference in personal space oftentimes creates frustration and is a source of great discomfort for many westerners. Abiding by the North American standards of personal space in a lineup will inevitably result in people assuming that you are not actually waiting in line. The result is the locals cut in front of you without even an “excuse me”.

Chinese popele like to show their affection by commenting on your weight. When I lived in the U.S. and came back to visit my extended family, the first thing they would comment was my weight. Usually it was “You’ve gained some weight.” Many of my expat friends in Shanghai have the same problem. Usually when they return to China from their summer vacations back home, their Chinese ayi (housekeeper) would greet them with “You are fatter” before even saying hello. So the bottom line is if you happen to be a little overweight, expect to hear about it sooner or later. If you are more than a little overweight, you will probably hear about it much more often. My sister-in-law has no weight problem, but she is still going to hear about her perfect weight, “You are not fat, nor skinny!” These comments are by no means meant to be offensive. On the other hand, it is designed to show their affection. It indicates their familiarity with you, like saying, “Hey, old friend. You’ve been gone for a long time. I’ve missed you.” Noticing your waist line changes only means they care about you enough to notice the difference.

Chinese people love to exercise. If you go to a park in an early morning, you will most certainly see people practicing Tai Chi or some other kind of fitness regimen. Traditional Chinese Medicine states that, in the early morning hours, trees emit a great amount of Chi, the mystical life force for any living beings. Doing exercise in close proximity to trees early in the morning enables a person to absorb the excess Chi.

Tai Chi exercise is elegant. But elegance is not all one encounters. In the high heat of the Shanghai summer, if you go out later during the day or somewhere in nature, you will also see some phenomenon that is not too satisfying to your eye: men with their shirts pulled up and their bellies exposed. The theory goes that by aerating their navels, the whole body can cool down and their general health can be improved by absorbing Chi through their exposed bellies. Just wish for a well toned body rather than a flappy sagging drooping one!

To some, running into a topless guy (or almost) is nothing in comparison in terms of the unpleasantry when it comes to spitting. In China, spitting is a way to clean out one’s sinuses and is considered a natural body function beneficial to one’s health and is therefore very common, regardless of where you live, big cities or rural areas. It is usually proceeded by a loud, grating throat-clearing sound. Many foreigners finds it gross, just like Chinese people find it unpleasant to see westerners blow their nose loudly into a handkerchief and then stuff the dirty rag back in their pocket.

One last thing I can think of for this post is the phenomenon of Chinglish (or Chinese English) on public signs, park rules, and T-shirts. Many places do not have English speakers on their staff. However, many people, especially young ones, like a T-shirt with English words, no matter how nonsensical the jumble of words is. That’s how factories mass produce T-shirts and product labels with nonsense English slogans. But come to think of it, it’s no difference from westerners sporting Chinese character tattoos that say ge (个 - which has no actual meaning but is part of a number) or de (的 - it indicates possession, equal in meaning to ‘s) or other meaningless words just because they look hip.

One more thing I want to point out is that, for each and every single generalization made above, there will be a large number of individuals who don’t fit the mold. The idiosyncrasies described that apply only to some are enough to make a culture different from another.

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All Depending on the Tones

Friends from the U.S. often ask me about my children’s Chinese and whether they are totally fluent. Before I answer that question, I would like to give some idea about the language.

Chinese is not an easy language to learn. It is tonal. This means that word syllables, which may sound identical to the Western ear, entail totally different meanings depending on the inflection used. Some even say it resembles music.

Surprising, isn’t it? Does that mean over one billion Chinese people know music before they speak the language. How do they get it?

The key lies in the difference between acquiring the first language from birth and a second language. The linguistic skills and competence is horned by actually living in the language context and acquiring it within the critical period (which states that the first few years of life is the crucial time in acquiring a first language). But for a second language learner, there is a whole new set of challenge.

As an example, the English words “yes”, “yes”, “yes” and “yes” could all take on very different meanings, depending on which musical notes were used and how they were “sung” while speaking. This difference in musical notes is usually referred to as tones in Chinese. So depending on the tone used for the word “yes”, the first one might mean “rain”, the second one “worm”, the third one “horse”, and the fourth one might mean “mom”. Hopefully this gives you an idea of the difficulties associated with learning the Chinese language.

To illustrate the subtlety, here is another example. A Westerner is trying to say, “Hello. Nice to meet you. I like China. I have many Chinese friends. ” Because of the improper use of tonal inflections, he is actually saying, “You vast. Hate tell apricot person are mud. Fertile happy bracelet planting fruit. Fertile again hate many planting fruit bump oil.” (你浩.恨告杏人是泥.沃喜环种果.沃又恨多种果碰油.) Small wonder he is not understood!

My children are fluent in Chinese. As for the infamous tones, they are mostly proficient. Only occasionally they crack me up with a little episode of tonal joke.

The other day at the dinner table, my five year old commented on the soup that I cooked. I knew she wanted to say “The soup is hot.” But instead she came up with, “The hot is soup.” You see, the words “soup” and “hot” both take on the “tang” syllable, but the first tone tāng () means “soup”, but the fourth tone tàng () takes on a radically different meaning: hot or burning hot. By switching the two tones, it became unintelligible. Do you know that the second tone táng means sugar () or Tang dynasty ()?

I won’t be surprised next time if she came up with “The sugar is burning hot” or “The Tang dynasty is soupy”.

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University As Easy as a Walk in the Park

My older niece Tong came to Shanghai from her university to stay with us for a week. Knowing it is in the middle of the semester, I was concerned with the lessons missed and the consequence of that. She told me not to worry, adding she already took care of things.

Puzzled, I asked her how. What could she possibly do to “take care of” the fact that she is missing a whole week’s class.

“Oh, I told the class monitor to skip my name in the routine roll call so nobody will even know I am absent.” She brushed aside the subject easily.

Is that all to her university life? Just to be there for the roll call? What about class participation, essays, projects and assignments, presentation, tests and exams and other forms of assessment? How can all those be “taken care of”?

At the point when I was more perplexed than ever, I realized there is a vast gap in educational success between the Chinese and western standard.

Unlike the typical western education system, a Chinese student’s life changes dramatically for the better, once accepted into a university. We all remember the hardship of childhood when one has to toil on school work from dawn to dusk. Those days are gone, replaced by a good life in the university, a time to play, a time to make up for lost childhood. In this sense, it is pretty much a reversal of Western standard on childhood development.

In my niece’s situation, she is not slightly worried about the possible consequences of missing class. In her young mind, she thinks she has “made it”. She is secure in the knowledge that getting expelled from university for any reason is virtually non-existent. Why should she worry? She has paid her dues and earned the right to play. Like her peers, she has achieved the impossible of surviving childhood and gained entry into higher education, which is considered an adequate accomplishment itself. Now is the time to cut down on study but to join clubs and activities, socializing and networking.

When asked about tests and exams, she laughed it off as if what I asked does not concern her. She told me there is barely any exames, and if there is, her professors hand out model essays.

It strikes me how different China’s university life is these days compared to my time which was twenty years ago. At least back then students respected learning a great deal. But nowadays there exists a widespread but disturbing practice in modern universities: plagiarism. It is a well known fact that throughout China’s educational system, all forms of creative thought tends to be devalued. Once in university, they are however, expected to write essays, papers, presentations, etc. Given the situation of zero experience in these skills, plagiarizing is the only way. And the professors are well aware of the absurd fact but are too feeble to uproot the problem. Therefore, they advance the matter by handing out A’s and B’s essays and papers that are from the Internet or a book. It is sad that plagiarism is the norm rather than the exception in Chinese universities.

My niece is comforted with the fact that she doesn’t have to burn the midnight oil to make up for missed work. I wish I were as light hearted. I am deeply concerned how much she can get out of her university life in terms of training her mind.

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Family Affair

I guess each family has a fun parent and a more serious one.

In ours, my husband is the fun parent and me, the dull one.

This distinction was not crystal clear to me until my daughter flagged the label in my face the other day, “Mama, do you know why I love Baba so much?” I knew there was more coming, but before I could say anything, she added, “He is so funny.”

Now I get it. I get the fact she gets up extra early just to be with him for a bit before he leaves for work; I also understand why she waits by the door just to open it for him when he gets home from work; she always holds his hand while we are out for a walk, sits next to him at restaurants, on the plane; she puts his shoes away when she is in the mood. One of her frequent questions is, “Is tomorrow Saturday or Sunday?” she knows that’s when he stays home.

Like every working dad my husband works nine to five for five days of the week. When he is home after work, he is usually tired from his daily drudge. But any time before and after dinner, even at the dinner table, he always tickles the kids’ funny bones, with funny faces, hilarious jokes, silly voices, gestures, and comical way of talking, just to make them laugh and giggle. He won’t stop until they are rolling in laughter and tears.

The thing is, he doesn’t even spend that much time with the kids.

On the other hand, I am the one that is with them all day and everyday, taking care of their every need, with no lack of exerting pressure along the way. I push them to work on their math, piano, journal, science, make them drink their milk, eat up their lunch, rush them out of the door for classes, museum visits, or for grocery, play dates. In the course of the daily mundane and familiar, I become the drag, the all-work-no-play parent.

But to my consolation, my daughter also took my feeling into consideration, “Mama, I wish I said you are funny, too, but you are really not!’

At least she is trying to make me feel better.

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A Dog’s Life

A neighbor below us just had a baby. I ran into the new dad yesterday who was complaining of sleep deprivation that is unique to those new to parenthood.

It reminds me of a story I read a while ago. I wish I remember the source.

This story is about a dog who wandered into a nice man’s yard (not his owner’s), followed him to the house, curled up at a cool spot in the corner, and fell asleep. The next day the dog came back and did the same. This continued everyday for several weeks.

Curious, the nice man pinned a note to the dog’s collar which said that he would like to know the owner of the sweet dog and also to inform her that her dog came to his house for a nap everyday for weeks.

The next day the dog arrived for his nap, with a new note to his collar that said the dog lives in a home with seven children, three under the age of four, so he is trying to catch up on his sleep. ‘Can I come with him tomorrow?’ was how the note ended!

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I Am Shanghaied

It happened over a week ago, and I still feel sick to my stomach whenever I think about it. Even though the memory of humiliation and mortification is fresh, I decide to write about it with the humble hope that someone would learn from it.

The experience that mortified me greatly happened during the 2012 Chinese Grand Prix, held on Sunday, April 15 at the Shanghai International Circuit in Shanghai. It is a much anticipated event by the whole motor racing world and its fans. That includes my husband Tom who has been religiously following their every move. Now my son is becoming a young enthusiast, too.

Just like last time, my father was flown in to watch our daughter Kaiyi who is too young for the race, so that Tom and I and our son could go and watch the race.

We skipped the practice on Friday. Tom had to work.

But Saturday we got up early. It was an important day, the day we needed to get the tickets, at the track, which sounds like a common practice.

I could smell the excitement in the air. Tom made himself some toast and coffee and offered to make breakfast for me. He arranged for some music entertainment for the train ride on the way to the track that is in the Jiading District. It takes two train rides to get there from where we live. The first one is from the Science Museum to Jiangsu Lu on Line 2 which takes about 30 minutes, then from there another ride on Line 11 to Shanghai International Circuit that takes about an hour.

The train was packed with fans – everyone looked excited and it was great to be in the fan club!

When we got to the Circuit, we were surrounded by sellers of ear plugs, but no ticket sellers. There were security guards everywhere, especially by the gates and close to the entrance. Maybe that’s why the ticket sellers were not on site. So we started to walk away from the gates and from the guards, hoping to find tickets, but no luck. We kept walking, still no luck.

We were walking so far from the track that we were both giving up hope that we would ever get tickets this year. By that time, we were really walking away from the track towards the city of Jiading. I could sense the disappointment from my beloved, not at me, but at the whole event. He has been waiting the whole year for this day. Everybody at work and online says it is extremely easy to get tickets on the track. Now that’s not the case and he can’t even get in. I felt so sad at that point that I would do anything and pay any amount of money so that he could watch his favorite sport.

While I was occupied with these thoughts, we were approached by a guy waving tickets in our face. “Want tickets?” That was like music to my ears.

Do I want tickets! That was the only thing I wanted at that moment. I was so pleasantly surprised and excited that I was losing my head. He came out of nowhere! I wanted to get tickets from him at whatever cost! My husband warned me that there are not many people around, and it’s highly likely his tickets were counterfeit.

So reluctantly I walked away from him, as if walking away from our ready tickets. We kept walking. With no other sellers on site I seriously regretted not buying tickets from that guy. You see, I had never been deceived by a con artist. In my simple world, that kind of thing only happened in dreams or movies.

On we walked. We saw fewer and fewer people on the way. Neither of us was tired, but in my heart hope was dwindling. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I felt this cursed melancholy. Thinking of all the happy people sitting at the track, and looking at us walking on the dirt road, I fell into despair.

My husband wanted to go home. For him, the experience of a fun day at the race was already ruined.

Not entirely ready to give up, I was desperately trying to hold on to the last thread of hope. I craned my neck to see any activities ahead of us. Yes, there was a crowd! We were approaching what looked like a transaction of tickets changing hands. My husband was still skeptical, but I didn’t care that much any more. I just wanted to get the tickets, our only chance to get in the track.

Besides, there were five other popele getting the tickets from the guy. What could go wrong? After some routine bargaining, the transaction was complete, and I had tickets in my hand.

Happy as I was, I felt a little uneasy and apprehensive deep down. I fear what my husband warned me may come true. I could not truly relax until the tickets passed inspection and we were actually inside the track. The ticket sellers were nowhere near the track, maybe there was a chance the tickets were not genuine.

I tried to keep that thought at bay by looking at the scenery for the first time in our walk back to the track. There were a few trees with beautiful cherry blossoms. Looking at them somehow calmed me.

We walked back to one of the gates, with the people who bought the tickets from the same seller. Her turn came to scan the tickets. I was so nervous that it felt like taking China’s national entrance exam, the most nerve wrecking exam in the world. All that left me in a nervous wreck.

It didn’t look too good. Her ticket could not be scanned. I totally lost my cool, and rushed ahead even though it was not my turn yet. I was eager to find out what caused her ticket to fail. Machine malfunction! Phew!

But she was still there, being stopped and looking desperate. My heart sank! Other people’s tickets had no problem getting through, only her and her friend. I showed my ticket to the gate official, he scanned it, same story. By then, his supervisor was called in, and he looked at our tickets and asked us where we bought it. His conclusion: counterfeit.

I was stunned! I just could not believe my ears. It really happened to me! I know I am somewhat gullible. I am easily sucked in by good deals on TV, or phone scams, but it only stopped at being tempted. I never paid any real money and get really sucked in. My husband is never a gullible person who is always able to keep a cool head at temptations and has stopped me countless times from being ripped off. But this time it’s different. It is his Formula 1, his all time favorite. He did not stop me hard enough.

While I was standing at the gate, watching all the people pouring in the track, I suddenly lost interest in any of this. I felt so violated that I could not stand looking at anyone nearby. They all looked like thieves and robbers. My psyche is damaged! My confidence in my fellow Chinese is bruised!

When we got home, I was so ashamed of my experience that I coud not bear to tell my father the truth. I told him tickets were hard to get. That way, I blocked the whole thing out of my memory. I refused to say it out loud that I was conned! I couldn’t say it.

Now after a whole week’s contemplation and reflection, the shame is gone. After all I did not do anything wrong. The thing that led to this unfortunate event is that I trust too much. Now I want to sum up the lessons that I have learned. If I could do it again, I would do it differently.

First of all, I would buy from sellers who are near the gate. I would check the tickets immediately while the seller is in site with the gate security. If the seller is not quite near the gate, force him to walk to it.

Secondly, in our situation of a group of five people buying tickets from the same scalper, I would try to let one of us go in first and see if the ticket is genuine. I would wait outside with the scalper and hold off paying him until there is proof the ticket is genuine.

Another way of making sure tickets are real is to ask for the scalper’s ID. If the tickets he is selling are fake, he would not want to show it. But a friend of mine warned me that a person’s identification could also be forged!

Well, there is always the sure way to get in: pay the full price.

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Cookout … in the Cold

Things and people that make memory are special.

One incident that sticks out among others in my recollection is a cookout in our friends’ backyard when we last visited Chicago in March this year. These friends are also our next door neighbors in the townhouse complex of our Chicago home. It seems a tradition now that each time when we visit, our whole family of four are treated to a delicious home cooked meal. With good food, fantastic drinks, great conversation and hanging out comfortably, it’s really the company that matters, and that’s the best part.

The day when we got off the plane and stepped onto American soil was in mid March, but North America was bestowed with a round of welcoming warm weather. It was in the 80 degree F! If I had not lived there for fourteen years, I would have been pleasantly surprised by this “fake heat”. But I had seen it all and knew better – for Chicago, it is nothing unusual with one day being a blistery 20 degree day in the morning, then the temperature spikes up to 80 degrees in the afternoon.

Or the other way round.

When we went to see our friends/neighbors a couple of days later, it was not as warm, but still warm enough in the morning that none of us had a jacket on when we left the house. Our friends who threw us a welcome-back party last year IN the house had their mind set on something more … summery. That was the plan anyway, to fire up the grill on an early evening of way-too-early summer for a tasty meal.

The preparation and cooking was fine, not too warm with one shirt on, but with the sharp drop of temperature, it became unbearable, thanks to the billowing north-westerly winds. By the time the food was laid out on the table, the temperature dropped to 40 degrees. But the spirits were high and the outdoor party was not to be stopped.

Our friends’ sweaters, jackets and blankets were put to good use.

It felt freezing out. Sitting on the cold bench and staring at the lemonade, salad, and other cool summer dishes, I felt colder. But my heart was warmer than ever, and I was so grateful we have such good friends who would cook the best food for us, sit out in the cold and shared one of the best days with us.

I also went home with one of the tastiest vegetarian recipes. Thanks, Gwen!

Chickpea–Sweet Potato Burgers With Dilly Cucumbers
Hearty sweet potatoes and chickpeas create a burger that’s about as meaty as it gets without using any meat. Dried chickpeas keep these patties crispy; soak them overnight so they’re ready to cook when you are.

Serves 4

INGREDIENTS

  • 1 1/4 cups dried chickpeas
  • Olive oil cooking spray
  • 3 tablespoons tahini
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt, divided
  • 1 small sweet potato, peeled and grated
  • 1 medium cucumber, peeled and thinly sliced
  • 1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced
  • 1/4 cup chopped fresh dill
  • 2 tablespoons rice vinegar

PREPARATION

  1. In a bowl, soak chickpeas in 4 cups water for at least 12 hours and up to 24; drain well. Heat oven to 375°. Coat a baking sheet with cooking spray. In a food processor, process chickpeas, tahini, black pepper, baking powder and 3/4 tsp salt, scraping down sides as necessary, until mixture holds together when pinched, 2 minutes; transfer to a bowl. Stir in sweet potato.  Form chickpea–sweet potato mixture into 4 burgers; place on baking sheet; cover tightly with foil; bake 20 minutes. Remove foil; coat burgers with spray; bake until crisp and golden underneath, 20 to 25 minutes. Flip burgers; coat with cooking spray; bake until crisp on other side, 10 to 15 minutes.
    In a second bowl, combine cucumber, onion, dill, vinegar and remaining 1/4 tsp salt; set aside.
    Serve burgers with dilly cucumbers.

THE SKINNY

338 calories per serving, 10 g fat (1 g saturated), 50 g carbs, 13 g fiber, 15 g protein
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