Trendy Pandas 05/05/2012
As the warm weather threatens to turn hot in the next month or so, Brian and I have been trying to stock up on seasonal items. Considering Hangzhou is about as humid as a bear's armpit, forcing us to shower and change two or three times a day in the hottest months, we have run through our summer clothes rather quickly here. So we have been shopping for some cool, breathable (100% cotton) T-shirts to replenish our wardrobe. In the US, we all know buying 100% cotton clothing is a fairly mindless and nondescript task. Yet as you have probably intuited, dear reader, mindless tasks at home often become elaborate adventures in the Middle Kingdom (hence the blog's name! :). At least in Hangzhou, synthetic is the name of the game. Polyester and rayon are fine enough to minimize our hypothermia in the winter, but of course would leave us incredibly miserable when August rolls around. For some reason, 100% cotton shirts have proven difficult to find outside of the stores catering to the uber-rich (i.e. I'd rather not pay $100+ dollars for a T-shirt, thank you very much). To lighten not only my body temperature but also the mood for summertime, I've wanted to go local and find a 100% cotton panda T-shirt. Pandas are actually a popular logo for clothing here, and I asked my Chinese friend to help me surf the Chinese equivalent of Amazon.com to look for a cute and comfortable top. I was hoping to find something along these lines:  Unfortunately, as my Chinese friend informed me, cute and cuddly panda Ts are out of fashion now. Apparently angry and scary panda motifs are currently all the rage. Like these:  Oh, well. I suppose, yet again, these inexplicable difficulties will make me appreciate any T-shirts we do find even more. Or maybe I just need to wait until next year when fluffy pandas become fashionable again..... 1 Comment After eight months of Mandarin studies, Brian and I appreciate that we've reached a new level of language absorption. We're by no means fluent, and not even proficient (and as my post below indicates, I don't want to pretend like I've fully grasped the culture! :). Yet we find ourselves elated when we can read signs that used to be incomprehensible, and pick up conversation on the street that formerly left us bewildered. We're also pleasantly surprised when tasks that used to overwhelm us now seem manageable. It's a good feeling to discover that our studies are reaping benefits. I'm also fascinated by the glimpses into Chinese culture that we gain from studying Mandarin. The written characters Mandarin heavily influence the worldview of this country's citizens, and offer thrilling insight into the mindset of a substantial portion of the world's population. In fact, since Chinese is at least partially a picture-based language, it operates on a level that English simply does not. I'll offer a few examples below (in my rough translation). Hopefully you'll find them as interesting as I do! :) Note: As you may know, most Chinese characters are comprised of parts called "radicals." Radicals are simply the building blocks of Chinese characters. Some of them convey meaning, and some convey the word's sound. When I mention "radicals," I'm simply talking about these linguistic building blocks :). Interesting Chinese Characters: 1. The word for "to chat about" is the radical for "word" combined with two radicals for "fire," or "two fires sharing words." This makes me think about James 3:6, which says, "the tongue also is a fire." 2. The word for "bad luck" is the character "to pour" as well as a character that combines "every" and "rain." One truly has bad luck when falling victim to all the rains pouring down! 3. The word for "to teach" has a radical for "pen in hand" beside one for "child," underneath a radical for "old person." To teach is when the child holds a pen in hand, under the tutelage of an older, wiser adult. 4. The word for "hair" is two characters: "to emit" and "head." Hair is what comes out of your head! 5. The common word "to see, to look" is the hand radical over the eye radical. When we put our hand up to our forehead, we can look out into the distance! 6. The first character in "to rest" is the radical for "person" beside the one for "tree." When we lean against a tree, we rest. 7. The Chinese word for:
1. Just as many Westerners avoid the number 13, the Chinese do not like the number 4 (in fact, one hotel we stayed at lacked both a 4th story and any rooms with the number 4 in them!). The number 4 sounds similar for the word for "death." 2. While people in China often give each other fruit as a present, they do not give each other pears. The word for "pear" sounds like the word "to part." So giving a pear means the pair (like that rhyme? :) will part ways! 3. Men should avoid wearing green hats in the Middle Kingdom. The phrase "wear a green hat" sounds like the Chinese word for "cuckold." 4. For those seeking a little luck, try the number 8. The word for "eight" sounds like the word "to make a fortune." 5. Feeling amorous? Text your love "520," which sounds similar to "I love you" in Chinese. Enough fire words for now! This electric brain needs to lean against a tree! :) Figuring Out China 04/20/2012
Every semester, our university's language program sponsors a trip for us international students. As you may recall, Brian went on the autumn outing to Thousand Island Lake.* This semester, the university took us to a canal town about two hours away called Nanxun. I was incredibly excited at the prospect of only paying the equivalent of three dollars for transportation, attraction entrance, and lunch in this charming canal town. My handy China guidebook highlights Nanxun's "arched bridges, canals, narrow lanes, and old houses," along with its "intriguing mix of Chinese and European architecture, introduced by affluent silk merchants who once made their homes here."** I'm always fascinated to visit a place with substantial history, and apparently Nanxun has at least 1400 years of it. I was ready to fall for some historic enchantment and be swept away into a bygone era. Our teachers commanded us to report to the buses at 7am so we could leave promptly at 7:30am. Since Brian and I are in different sections of Level Two language study, we were supposed to ride on different buses with our respective classes. Feeling like middle schoolers, we nonetheless attempted to save face by asking our teachers' permission to ride together on the same bus. The response? "You cannot! It is not possible!" What did we do? "Thank you, teachers!," and promptly boarded my section's bus together. I could write an entire blog post on how incredibly patronizing the culture can be here, but I have at least come to expect that I'll be treated like a child at all times--I will be told what to do, I'll be talked down to, and I will be told how to do procedures (such as studying) that I figured out years ago. I realized our teachers' reaction didn't surprise me, and smugly pondered the concept that perhaps I have actually "figured out" China. That all changed when the bus parked in Nanxun. A tour guide (who looked more like she was dressed for a high school basketball game than for recalling nerdy tidbits of information) boarded our bus, shouted a few incomprehensible orders in Chinese, then started walking away from the bus. Not knowing what else to do, we exited, as well. Within a few moments, somewhere between a few hundred and ten thousand Chinese tourists started cramming around us on the sidewalk. Our guide haphazardly waved a flag in the air whenever she felt the whim. We did our best to stay close to her as we passed what looked like a visitors' center, some shops, and finally an entrance for the "historic town." We quickly learned it was impossible to stick with our guide. She walked wherever she pleased (often in incredibly tight, cramped quarters), and we had no choice but to let the rushing tide of gabbing tourists push us hither and thither. To make matters worse in the Sea of Body Odor and Stares at Foreigners, the guides also had an ear-popping portable microphone system attached to their waists, and would (at completely unpredictable intervals) feel compelled to bark into it. Nanxun swept me away alright, but it wasn't into a bygone era. A few teachers attempted to translate the guides' speech for us (especially since I haven't learned the Chinese words for "silk merchant," "lonely widow's mansion," or "wisteria" yet), but it was a lost cause. We eventually had to do like all the other groups and wander aimlessly, clueless to the charming-yet-unknown scenery that surrounded us. As much as we could, we spent two hours dodging loogies, guides with mikes, and brazen attempts to gawk at and take pictures of us exotic "foreign devils." I learned two important lessons from my Nanxun journey: Chinese tourists really do love to wear matching hats, and they all feel compelled to sight see between 9:30 and 11:30 in the morning. By the time we left, the site was empty. The bus drove us to a nearby hotel for a decent yet nondescript lunch. By 1pm, we boarded the bus to return home. Why couldn't we have staggered our journey, you ask? Perhaps grab an early lunch, then see the sites in the afternoon when no one else would be there? Good question. My classmates and I asked it many times ourselves on the bus ride back, frustrated and confused as to the purpose of the day trip. Perhaps the guides aren't available in the afternoon because they have to get ready for the basketball game. Now that a few days have passed since our journey, my frustration has been replaced with a bit of humility and ironic acknowledgement. I have certainly learned another lesson--I will never fully understand this country! China makes me scream, makes me laugh, makes me scratch my head--but it never makes me bored. *To read more about Brian's rather humorous experiences that day, see his November post "No Speeling!" **Lonely Planet China 2011 Edition, page 247 (contact me if you want the full bibliography, though that should suffice for an Amazon search if you're that interested :).  The picture everyone wants at Nanxun. We had to wait in line for awhile for this.  Admittedly lovely entrance to.....well, some rich person's estate. Or something. Like I said, it was lovely.  This picture doesn't do the crowds justice.  I agree! The Living and the Dead 04/02/2012
It’s with a sigh of relief and lightly sun-kissed cheeks that I write today.* The weather could not be more beautiful as we have a three day respite from class (or rather, have a net one day break as everyone had to work Saturday and Sunday in order to have a “break” Monday through Wednesday). Why did the Middle Kingdom go to so much effort to shuffle the work schedule, you ask? I honestly don’t know why they simply couldn’t just grant Monday leave, but I do know why this week is special in China: we are in the midst of Qing Ming, or Grave Sweeping time. About two months after suffering exorbitant fares and bone-crushing crowds to traverse across the country to see families,** the Chinese are now traveling back to their ancestral homes so the men can sweep the graves of the departed, and the women can clean the homes of relatives. As far as I understand, both genders will spend wads of REAL cash to buy FAKE cash that will subsequently be burned as an appeasement to dead relatives who want wealth in the afterlife. A friend of ours who recently visited nearby Fujian province was shocked to encounter vendors selling effigies of BMWs and women. Turns out, the departed in Fujian not only want cash, but also luxury cars and mistresses in the Great Beyond! I won’t even expound on my opinions of equating women with cars, or the symbolism of burning them. I can only hope cars in the next life have horns that are a little more soothing to the ear. I haven’t noticed many changes around Hangzhou for Qing Ming—no distinctive decorations, and no especially significant changes in the flow of people. From what I hear, most Hangzhou residents view this holiday merely as a time to pay their respects, and don't necessarily expect any blessings in return from their ancestors. Yet there must be a few folks around here who are reaching out to the next life for a little love in this one. There's been a trickle of men in saffron orange robes and shaved heads walking (and sometimes driving commercial trucks) out and about—they don the garb of monks, but as one Old China Hand has assured me, they are just as likely to be con artists as earnestly faithful practitioners. I’ve heard stories of monks decked out with Apples (i.e. of the technological sort) who gain affluence by selling blessings to people also seeking such prosperity. I suppose frauds are found in every faith system. I’ve also been thinking this week of the coincidence of Qing Ming falling during Holy Week. I’m not sure if this happens every year or not (I’m guessing not, but I’m open to the input of other readers who are more familiar with Chinese culture :). But this year, the quirky timing of these observances has led me to reflect on the search for salvation. From what sources do we seek our identity and well-being? In the realms of the living and the dead, where will we find peace and wholeness? What can we expect from those who have gone before us? How is the tomb of a man from Nazareth the same, and how is it different, from the tombs of our ancestors? These questions have rumbled in my mind the past few days. Perhaps some locals are also pondering similar thoughts in their own context. *I imagine it may be nearly impossible to tan, or even sunburn, in this part of China (though the Chinese make sure this doesn’t happen with their ubiquitous parasols). Between the high amounts of rain and thick pollution, I rarely find my skin bearing witness to any exposure to the sun. The fact we’ve had sun AND clear skies lately is quite a rare (and welcome) feature! :) **I was initially tempted to wonder why holidays so close to each other would require travel back home until I remembered Thanksgiving and Christmas. While it is of course worth the effort to travel to see family (!), I don't envy the Chinese for the hassle and crowds they have to deal with—makes Thanksgiving airport traffic look tame! WHEE!!!!! (or, bliss on a swing) 03/22/2012
Now that spring is slowly but surely emerging, I’m noticing more people out and about. Friends are chatting on the sidewalk, families are playing with their infants by apartment entrances, people are strolling with their (insanely cute and fluffy) dogs, and intriguingly, some people are passing the time squatting on the sidewalk. Yes, just squatting. While we Americans sit Indian style if we want to hunker down, the Chinese often hover on their knees low to the ground. Like these people:  In all of this, the relative warmth and sunlight of late is also encouraging people to exercise more outdoors. I actually find myself infatuated with the breadth of options for physical movement in China, and I lament how we limit ourselves in the West in this regard. As many of us know, the West has a strange mind/body dichotomy—we’ve come to believe that the mind is superior to the physical world. We’ve inherited many diverse philosophies/ideas through the centuries (i.e. Greek dualism, the Enlightenment, etc.) that have taught us to value cognitive abilities above anything material. What this means in practical terms is that we highly regard critical thinking, but are embarrassed by the fact that we are embodied creatures. As a culture, we’ve whipsawed from Victorian squeamishness to Postmodern fetishism that sexualizes everything physical. We don’t know how to live in the middle of these two extremes and be (wholesomely) comfortable in our skin. We heavily regulate (through stigma and embarrassment) what type of physical movement is appropriate, and where. Exercise nowadays has its place, but only certain forms in certain places. I’ve only come to realize the depth of this Western imbalance the past few months as I’ve observed the Chinese in leisure. In general, Middle Kingdom denizens seem incredibly comfortable with their bodies and moving in them. They are happy to engage in physical activities in the public realm, and encourage many types of hobbies that Western adults for some reason are mortified to attempt in front of others. For example, in addition to the occasional runners and basketball players, China also has the leisurely badminton partners (net not necessary), tai chi practitioners (slapping, clapping, and rocking encouraged), ballroom dancers (pick a street corner), and adult playground participants (see saw, swing, monkey bars and more!).  This adult playground is directly behind our apartment. We often see people here on the machines, or doing tai chi (think walking in slow circles around the tree, facing it, while cautiously moving arms in defense positions).  This contraption is kinda like a mechanical bull, but not quite as fun.  Our friend Kathy gettin' jiggy with it.  This machine is like a leg press, but more fun :).  I think what confused this grandfather and his grandchildren is not the fact that I was an adult on the swing, but the fact that a foreigner would engage in such practices (we heard the common word for "silly foreigner" a few times while we were blissfully swinging :). It is perfectly natural for a 30, 60, or even 90-year-old to engage in these activities on any little swath of pavement or grass they can find. The city has also set up multiple adult playgrounds (I know of at least three within walking distance from my apartment), and yes, the Chinese use these with admirable frequency. There is no awkward giggling, no cutting of eyes, no intake of breath when an adult starts dancing, twirling, or swinging for the world to see. It is perfectly natural. Brian and I also encountered the Chinese comfort with their bodies on a China Eastern flight a few months ago. The “Bon Voyage” video featured flight attendants dancing with ribbons. At the time, the video seemed incredibly odd. I can’t imagine Delta or United Airlines agents twirling and spinning to some flute-heavy tune (or at least not in earnest). Yet now I see that the China Eastern agents' lack of embarrassment is because this country doesn’t have the particular stigma that Westerners have regarding embodiment. I’ll conclude my ruminations for now with a video that the English artist Imogen Heap recently filmed here in Hangzhou. While I’m sure some of it was staged, I can assure you the group dancing en masse was likely authentic. For all the moments I’m utterly flabbergasted in this land, words aren’t necessary to comprehend the emotion captured here. Getting the Hang of Yin and Yang 03/10/2012
As the world celebrated International Women’s Day this past week, I thought it appropriate to comment on gender relations in China. Most people know that China has very firm notions of proper gender relations—men are supposed to lead, and women are supposed to follow. Men live in the public realm, and women in the private. Men are strong, and women are weak. The best way, of course, to perpetuate these concepts is to make sure everyone perpetuates like-minded families. You get the idea. My time here has only confirmed the vitality of this way of thinking. One of my new teachers this semester introduced herself by telling us her age (35), then promptly saying, as if this fact were tautological, “of COURSE I am married and have a child!” Some of our other teachers (who are about our age) have confessed the intense pressure they face to marry and to have children. In response to this pressure, we have heard that a thriving “rent-a-boyfriend” business has emerged. Why would an accomplished, career-minded young woman want to pay to rent a boyfriend, you ask? Picture this scene: Young woman (after traveling back home for Chinese New Year): hello, family! Family: Hello! Ah, you are getting fatter! You need to watch your weight, or you’ll never get a boyfriend. Oh, who is this handsome young man? Young woman: Well, this is my boyfriend. His name is (pauses to make one up) Lee. Family: Wonderful! We were getting worried about you. You know you need to settle down very soon, right? We want a grandson! Glad to see you have finally found someone. Yup, “rent-a-boyfriend” buys a year of breathing room as a placation for pushy families. Like everything else in the Middle Kingdom, these boyfriends-for-hire save face. I recently had a conversation with some friends that revealed to me why these ideas are so entrenched here. The Chinese not only rely on Confucian ideas of proper hierarchies, but they also see gender as a reflection of yin and yang. You’ve probably heard of yin and yang—the Taoist idea symbolized here?  Yin and yang are all about balancing polarities: dark and light, cold and hot, high and low, masculine and feminine. The one cannot exist without the other. As you can probably guess, the cold, dark, and low are associated with femininity. The light, hot, and high are associated with masculinity. Each person, therefore, is a reflection of his proper yang or her proper yin identity. To push against this concept is to question the basics of reality. Yin and yang also appear in ideas of traditional Chinese medicine, as well as dietary preferences. On more than one occasion, we have had a meal with Chinese friends who have told us “THIS food is for women,” and “THAT food is for men.” Such a differentiation seemed extremely odd at first, but now we understand: everything we do, including what we eat, serves to balance these polarities. Why my “organic” brown sugar proudly boasts it is “for women" finally makes sense.  The rewards for the Chinese who abide by this culture’s code of ethics and living can be great (in fact, far greater than perhaps those we have in the West). People from the same family or villages will go to great lengths to take care of each other and to support each other. They may reap benefits that we often lack in the West with our individualism and weakened communities. Yet the payoff for such tight knit fellowship seems to be wholehearted deference to entrenched ideas of proper relations. Cultures and groups as varied as the Amish, the British noble class of earlier centuries, or certain indigenous communities also have this all-or-nothing approach. There is no picking and choosing, which obviously causes hardship for those who fall outside the expected norms. I’ll conclude my thoughts for now. There are many more reflections that could be made about this topic, but suffice it to say for now that the topic of gender is alive and well in China in often surprising ways—especially when it dictates what kind of food I am supposed to buy! A new haven from the chaos 02/25/2012
We just completed our first week of classes. Overall, this semester is shaping up to be much more pleasant than the last one: the bureaucratic nightmare of tuition/visa payment is behind us, we have at least a very basic knowledge of the language to get around town, and we are settling nicely into our much improved living space. I think I appreciate small victories even more now (such as washing my own clothes, having a sufficiently heated living space, or eating a ham and cheese sandwich) because I know how difficult they can be to achieve here. I'll focus firstly on our new living situation--can we say wonderful? On February 1st, we moved into an apartment across the street from the university. We are also directly above a supermarket, hair stylist, and most importantly, four cushy coffee shops. I wish I had a fireman's pole so I could slide directly down into my favorite one! This place literally is an answer to prayer, and we are very blessed by it for a few reasons: our neighbors are much quieter, the windows actually fit into their frames (and therefore keep out most noise and cold), we have a washing machine for laundry, fridge and kitchen for preparing food, and we have separate rooms for common area and privacy (as opposed to one big dorm room). By US standards, the apartment isn't incredibly big or fancy--we still don't have a clothes dryer or oven, the counter space in the kitchen is limited, and the common area is fairly small. Yet for China standards, this place is especially nice. It is obvious from the top end appliances and fixtures that our landlords (who used to live here before becoming even wealthier and buying a bigger unit) took pride in the apartment. Unlike the university's dorms, which reek (sometimes literally) of the stench of shoddy work and minimal standards, this apartment is classy. We've also felt classy because of our ability to prepare our own food. For some people, this may not matter, but for me, this has taken on great importance the past few years. I became more interested in cooking while in graduate school. Burdened with abstract thoughts of the world's problems and interpretative puzzles that have stymied intellectuals for millenia, I could at least come back home to prepare a nice meal. The process of producing food worked a different part of my brain (and let the analytical part take a rest), and it was a nice accomplishment to have concrete results for my efforts. While I love pondering paradoxes and contemplating God's great mysteries, sometimes I simply appreciated a nice chicken and broccoli dinner that had a definite beginning, duration, and completion. This culinary satisfaction brings us even more contentment here in China. I may not understand what that guy on the street was shouting at me earlier, but at least I can make a tasty and healthy bean stew for dinner. I have no idea why every day at 6:30pm traffic comes to a halt outside our apartment as the rush hour "one way" ban lifts prematurely, causing pandemonium with cars pointed in all directions and blaring their horns as if their lives depended on it. But I can toast some bread and savor it with some jam and tea. I don't comprehend the laws of economics that govern stores here, throwing basic principles of "supply and demand" to the wind and replacing them with bullhorn-adorned salespeople touting perfectly useless products. But I can stir fry some eggplant, bok choy, tofu, mushrooms, tomatoes, and spices together for a lovely curried vegetable meal. In short, preparing my own food helps me feel a little breath of tranquility in a country hyped up on new money and old superstitions. That's probably enough food for thought (pun intended :) for today. I'll include some pictures below of our new abode, and hope to blog again soon as I'm finally recovering from the trauma of living through Chinese New Year in a Chinese dorm.  The first meal we cooked here--vegetables and tofu in Thai curry sauce.  Our lifesaver in China--a working heating unit for our bedroom!  Tea collection from all over the world--England, Australia, and China :).  Our living room/office/wall space for fridge (since the kitchen is too small for the fridge). The window in the background is the Disney-themed wall screen we inherited when we moved in. A little quirky, but we make it work :).  Our bathroom (complete with heat lamps above the shower). The shower area isn't large, but please note the clean floor and nice toilet--these are not always givens in Chinese bathrooms.  We finally have our own washer (yes, the washer is outside on the balcony. Not sure why)! Fortunately, the buttons are in English and Chinese. This is the detergent we use (and we weren't certain whether or not it was detergent when we first arrived here). Report card: US vs China on health care 02/17/2012
Though we had a five week break from classes for Chinese New Year, for some reason this past week feels like the only productive one. As the previous post explains, the perpetual cold here put us in the closest thing I can imagine a human has to hibernation. We are incredibly grateful, however, that the first promise of spring now hangs in the air. I've seen a few flower buds emerging, the sun has made a rare appearance this weekend, winter clothes are on clearance, and Wal-Mart is now touting spring apparel (yes, it involves pandas and odd English phrases :). Hoorah! Good-bye, winter. I will not miss you. As we awake from our extended stupor, Brian and I ran some errands this week that leave us feeling more human. One of those tasks was finding a dentist for our periodic cleaning. I've been particularly overwhelmed to approach any health-care related task here (for what I assume are obvious reasons). Yet I knew I'd need to face the facts and stay on the up and up with our oral health care. So I prepared myself for the worst, and started calling English-speaking dentist offices. It was time to play ball. In the US (particularly in DC), I'd have to call four months in advance to make an appointment. FOUR MONTHS. Does anyone else think that is a bit excessive? I called before Chinese New Year hoping I could make an appointment for the next month. The receptionist was shocked I wanted to book an appointment so far in advance, and kept trying to cajole me to come in the next day. "After Chinese New Year?!," she exclaimed. "We don't know our schedule yet after the holiday. Just call the week you want an appointment." So I did. I froze, slept, and stumbled around a few weeks, and finally called again. I told her the exact time I wanted appointments, and she booked them for Brian and me. Ease of booking appointments? China one, US zero. D-day finally arrived a few days later (coincidentally, V-day this week), and we took a taxi to the premier hospital in the city. As other Westerners had reassured us, the international ward was incredibly nice. The hygienist (from California) saw us immediately. She scrubbed our pearly whites, until they were well, white :). Best of all, we received this top-notch care for only $45/person. Turns out, we could get our teeth cleaned as a foreigner with Western technology/medical standards, and Chinese prices/billing practices :). Value for dental work? China two, US zero. I am thrilled to discover how easy it is to receive excellent, affordable health care in China as a foreigner.* As a bonus, however, I also gained some education about receiving health care in China as a Chinese person. The hygienist's husband (also American) happens to be the marketing director at the hospital. Whether he's just an incredibly friendly guy or happened to be bored that morning, he sat down with me while his wife cleaned my husband's teeth and chatted about life in a Chinese hospital. He told fascinating stories about how health care works in this country. Like the US, doctors often spend very little time with patients. Moreover (as I had learned to my advantage), many people in China don't make appointments to see a doctor. They just show up, and often have to wait for hours. Combine this extended waiting with limited face time when they finally receive care, and many people begin to feel desperate. Patients in the waiting room will therefore often intrude on patients that have already been admitted both out of boredom and to try to glean more information about their own situation. Sitting in a room in an oh-so-breezy hospital gown in the midst of an awkward procedure? Have your privates exposed to the harsh hospital elements? Even these situations are not above a stranger just barging in on the room. As Brian and I have learned the hard way, the Western idea of privacy simply does not exist here. For patient privacy and confidentiality, the US is far better. US one, China two. Additionally, since patients cannot sue doctors for malpractice, they will often break glass, throw furniture, or physically assault the doctor and/or hospital guard if they are angry. While this approach is obviously violent, it goes with the trend here to settle disputes immediately when they occur. Whether for medical malpractice or car wrecks, there are no insurance claims or suits, no litigation dragging out for years in court. Just an exchange of money, blows, and words. One man had recently climbed to the top of the hospital with a large sign lambasting the doctor and authorities in charge of the ER where his mother had recently died. In his grief and fury, he threatened to jump into the crowds below. The hospital leadership apparently struck a compromise with him: he could sit on the roof for one day, publicly shaming the hospital to his heart's content, if he'd agree to descend the building via stairs and not air. Apparently this compromise worked for hospital and patient. How do we score US versus China health care regarding patient rights? I'm actually not sure. My first impulse was to say the US is better in this category, hands down. Yet what kind of health care system do we currently have? Haven't the costs of malpractice insurance, insane health care premiums, and lack of transparency taken their toll on us? I have certainly been tempted at times to break glass and throw chairs. Sure, we can sue, but at what financial and emotional cost? I'll have to call a draw for this one. I'd almost say China wins regarding my experience dealing with these two country's health care systems. Yet I must disclose that both times I've walked through the ER corridors of a Chinese hospital, I've immediately gotten sick afterwards. Perhaps this is because my immune system is still not accustomed to every bug here, but the cough I picked up a few days ago is still quite unpleasant. So as far as unwanted side effects from doctor's visits, I'll say the US wins. US two, China two. We'll declare a tie for now. As the US has recently hosted the next Chinese President this past week, perhaps the diplomatic score is the best one to use for concluding my health-related musings :). *Yes, my goal is to break out of expat circles as much as possible and not remain in a Western bubble. Living in Chinese accommodation and dealing with Chinese university bureaucracy, however, tests the elasticity of my cross-cultural limits. I am not ready to go "local" with health care. We can only acclimate so much day by day :). Still Climbing Maslow's Peak.... 02/10/2012
As you may remember, I posted back in September about the difficulties of meeting basic needs in this new country. While we have made many strides here the past six months, sometimes I still feel unexpectedly exhausted by tasks that would be brainless back home. We still have to hunt for food, laundry is a labyrinthine process, and without the basic comforts of central heating, I do wonder if the perpetual cold has made it more difficult for my brain to warm up for higher thinking. I therefore confess that my musings today come from a fairly enervated mind. I wish I could offer a polished, well articulated, pithy, and intellectually amazing post right now. Sometimes I am struck here by new insights into culture and human nature that I want to share. I am still percolating some of these ideas, and I fully intend to examine them on this blog at some point. But I must be honest with where I am, and today it is in the land of the languid. In order to prevent too much time to pass from my previous post, I'll offer some quick updates: 1) We moved into a new apartment at the beginning of this month. This space is an amazing answer to prayer. We now have a decently comfortable bed, windows that fit in their frame (and don't have a visible gap like the ones in the dorm), more privacy, a KITCHEN!, our own washer (though no dryer), and a shower that is clean enough to use without the precaution of shower shoes. This flat was definitely made for Chinese tenants, however, and has quirks that are both endearing and irksome. I hope to post sometime soon about some of these idiosyncrasies. 2) We had to scramble to pay tuition for next semester's language classes, as well as renew our visas to stay in country. This task wasn't nearly as daunting as it was when we first arrived, though it was still unexpectedly frustrating. I could write an entire blog post on the idiocy of this process, but suffice it to say for now it involved a typical reticence to inform students of deadlines/requirements, red tape equally annoying though uniquely perplexing in comparison to the West, and more trips to the Bank of China's ATM than I care to remember. At least it is all settled, with a new visa in passport! 3) We took a much-appreciated week long vacation to Malaysia. We chose Malaysia because it was A) warm, B) cheap, and C) had an inexpensive non-stop flight from Hangzhou. Turns out, Malaysia is one of the most wonderful countries I've ever visited. Expect yet another blog post on this delightful destination, and the intriguing comparisons of its Chinese diaspora population with the Chinese we meet in the Middle Kingdom. So that's where we are today. I'll offer one rumination that floats through my thoughts from time to time. About two years ago, I was struck when I first encountered Sirach 38 24:34.* Verses 24 through 26 proclaim, Scholars must have time to study if they are going to be wise; they must be relieved of other responsibilities. How can a farm hand gain knowledge, when his only ambition is to drive the oxen and make them work, when all he knows to talk about is livestock? He takes great pains to plow a straight furrow and will work far into the night to feed the animals. Sirach observes the same for the artist, blacksmith, and potter. In verses 31-34, he concludes, All of these people are skilled with their hands, each of them an expert at his own craft. Without such people there could be no cities; no one would live or visit where these services were not available. These people are not sought out to serve on the public councils, and they never attain positions of great importance. They do not serve as judges, and they do not understand legal matters. They have no education and are not known for their wisdom. You never hear them quoting proverbs. But the work they do holds this world together. When they do their work, it is the same as offering prayer. Perhaps my prayer lately has been foraging for food, washing clothes, securing the legal right to stay here, and keeping warm. I am learning to appreciate how I had an infrastructure that met these basic needs back in the US, and therefore allowed me the "time to study." While we are meeting basic needs here, the infrastructure to do so is not nearly as robust. I'm therefore learning what a gift education is, and how hard I have to work for it. Speaking of, it is time to secure a meal for dinner. I'm not sure if I'll attempt to cook for the first time in the new kitchen, or simply visit one of the cafeterias nearby. But for now, the effort to feed myself (and praising the One above who provides the food) will be my divine offering. Amen. * To learn more about the Book of Sirach, see my post from October, "Big Noses Get Big Ears." Happy (Chinese) New Year!! 01/24/2012
It’s official: both East and West, lunar and solar calendars, have jumped full force into 2012. The Middle Kingdom welcomed the year of the Dragon this past Monday at midnight with a heavily viewed TV gala, gifts of money and chocolate in red envelopes, a huge feast, and of course, hours and hours (and hours) of intense fireworks across the country. Since this holiday has no emotional attachment for Brian and me, we’re mainly spending our time resting, reflecting, strolling, and preparing simple meals from the food we stockpiled beforehand (pretty much every restaurant and store is closed this week). Our city has become a ghost town as endless waves of workers have returned to their villages, and almost every student on our university campus has traveled, well, somewhere else. I’ve actually been amazed how often I’ve heard birds chirping this week, since they don’t have to contend right now with car horns, car alarms, and the bullhorns of street hawkers. Their only competition is sporadic fireworks. While most of the fireworks occurred between approximately 5pm-1am on Sunday/Monday morning, an occasional “boom!” still breaks the silence of morning, afternoon, or late night. I knew very little about Chinese New Year before moving to China. My knowledge mostly consisted of dragon parades and clogged transportation veins as millions of people traveled back home to be with family. I’m disappointed to report that dragon parades are nonexistent here, but the epic traffic jams are not (think armpits in faces, luggage in laps, and mile long queues to buy tickets or travel highways). Needless to say, Brian and I decided to hunker down and stay put this week. While we couldn’t find a colorful parade to capture our attention, we did learn that the Chinese state television sponsors an evening gala the night of New Year’s Eve. This evening variety show has acts similar to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, and viewership volume on par with the Super Bowl (though ironically, no commercials). After five months of merely using the TV set as a laundry rack, we plugged it in and tuned in Sunday night to get a taste of Chinese New Year culture. The evening gala was fascinating, and highlighted the differences in Chinese morality and aesthetics from those of the West. We saw a beautiful yet strange dance between a man and a woman dressed as peacocks, heard singers croon about the passing of seasons, strained to understand a Beijing Opera song and dance, watched the archetypical small skinny guy and tall fat guy exchange witty puns, and met the winners of a contest for the “most beautiful family in China.” This video recounts the origins of Chinese New Year. In ancient times, villagers were terrified of a lion monster named Nian ("year" in Chinese) who would annually descend from the mountains to eat children. Some wise sage recommended lighting fireworks and wearing the color red at new year to keep Nian away. Apparently this antidote works, because I haven't heard of Nian ever eating any children.... This video is called "Beautiful China," and highlights beautiful features throughout the country. Underlining all the hours of skits, singing, and dances was an ethic (both verbalized and assumed) of the centrality of family. At one point, the hosts introduced some big-wig military leaders (decked out with medals and epaulettes) who paid their patriotic homage. But I was touched that these leaders subsequently introduced their parents, who earned more air-time than the leaders themselves. In fact, the audience at this gala consisted of entire families spanning multiple generations. One of the song and dance numbers was peasant mothers cleaning house to prepare for their sons’ return home, and another song lamented the son who never called his parents. Even with my level one Chinese, I could detect the thick layers of filial piety at play. Another dominant theme was the didactic nature of the gala. Just like older family sitcoms in the US, the skits and songs taught some sort of moral. One skit (from the best we could tell) was a warning to unscrupulous business leaders who try to cheat the vulnerable or unaware. That sweet old lady you try to hoodwink could end up being an undercover police officer who goes kung fu crazy on your (behind). Trust me, that granny knew some crazy moves. In general, I not only enjoyed the TV gala, but also the opportunity to experience a country in the midst of its most important holiday. Its celebrations differ greatly in some ways from ours (i.e. no red envelopes, dragons, or scrolls on the door posts back home), yet I can appreciate the emphasis on sharing feasts, games, and strolls with loved ones. Until we can gather again with family and friends, Brian and I will continue to accumulate more stories that we’ll one day be able to share around the dinner table. In the meantime, though, please don’t sing guilt-trippy songs or go kung fu on us! :)  The entrance to a neighborhood near our university.  These lovely lanterns are currently on display throughout the city.  East meets West (or syncretism at its best). The entrance to our building.  How Brian and I spent Chinese New Year: sipping lattes at our favorite Costa beside West Lake. | AuthorTwo free spirits who happen to be a lawyer (Brian), an educator (Melanie), and Americans find themselves in China in the twenty-first century. ArchivesMay 2012 Categories |
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