China: the quirks

As I considered how best to tell you about the 10 days I spent in the Far East, I decided to take a thematic approach. Rather than writing the vacation narrative chronologically, I will tell you stories about the sights I saw and the people I met and the food I ate. And I know the first thing I would want to hear about is what makes China different from home. So that is where I will start -- the cultural differences, if you will.

Not surprisingly, one thing China does well is uniformity. After a few days, I realized that I kept seeing the same things over and over. The architecture was very utilitarian and stark and grey. In the midst of older, shorter buildings were towering skyscrapers that housed hundreds of three-generation families in small apartments. (I am blessed.)

This is the campus where Leslie lives and teaches, the Financial College.

These water jugs were everywhere on campus. Students go to a special building to fill them with hot water. While in class, they set them in groups like this.

And the most adorable redundancy of all: matching couples. There is an entire store devoted to T-shirts designed in girlfriend/boyfriend sets. Here are some lovers lounging at McDonald's. 

In a country that encourages equality/sameness/standardization, I found the acts of community we witnessed very endearing. We visited the Temple of Heaven in Beijing, which features a beautiful sprawling park (that alone was a treat after so much pavement). On a Thursday morning, hundreds of people had come to the park to exercise, play games, dance and sing together. We joined a couple of the activities, and the regulars didn't seem to mind.

That last photo is a group gathered to sing traditional Chinese songs -- another example of their love of performing. One of my favorite moments of the trip happened when I guest-spoke in Nate's final writing class. Each student introduced himself or herself to me and one sweet girl asked kindly if I would sing a song for them. That was unexpected, to be sure, but Nate told me later that since they love performing, they think everyone does. Of course I honored her request at the end of class with a rousing rendition of "Tomorrow" from Annie. I am not sure if that will be as cherished a memory for them as it will be for me. But it certainly helped prepare me for karaoke that night. 

This was not one of the songs I sang.

You'd have thought we Americans were performing everywhere we went with the constant audience we seemed to garner. One of the most apparent cultural differences was that people in Baoding stared at us because we look different. I was taught at a young age that staring is rude and thereby learned to be uncomfortable with being stared at. I met the most loving people there and felt such a sense of welcome, but the staring was hard to get used to. Full buses of people would look our way when they drove by (I never did get a good photo of that). You may think this guy is staring because I'm taking a picture of him, but I took the picture because he was staring.

These streets were a necessary and harrowing part of exploring the cities. There is all manner of bikes, mopeds, pedestrians, cars and buses trying to get somewhere and not paying attention to anyone else. They will honk to let you know they're coming up behind you, but you must be prepared to move over. Pedestrians are the bottom of the totem pole, and there was quite a learning curve for this Kansas girl. Sidewalks were not even safe for walking with vehicles like this ubiquitous little van helping themselves.

Even more surprising in this chaotic street scene was the number of riders sitting on the back racks of bikes. Every single bicycle I saw (again with the uniformity) had a basket on the front and a rack on the back that is used most often for toting children.

At first I was a bit startled to see them precariously perched back there, but when I got the chance to ride on the back of Nate's, I did not hesitate long. (Although there was a moment that I second-guessed the decision when my knees hit one of those speedy motorized trailers.) It may have been the least safe thing I did there, but I am thankful for the true, local immersion. 

Sam and Stephanie: seasoned pros.

As a journalist, I was shocked by the vast amount of Chinglish I encountered. I had heard Nate and Sam's funny stories, but it is much more common than I realized. I simply don't understand why one wouldn't ask a fluent English-speaker to proofread before printing the sign or massive amounts of T-shirts. (Truthfully I loved it.) Here are a few of examples that were readily photographable. 

This sign in the subway tunnel reads "Forbid to beam on,"
and I believe means to caution against leaning on the glass.

A shirt for a small girl. Click on the photo to enlarge it to legible size.
I have no guesses as to what this one means to say.

Sam explained that the Chinese word for Levi's sounds a bit like "Keanu Reeves." Not Chinglish in the formal sense of the word, but hilarious. And this man happened to walk into the photo. I love it.

Another disgrace to journalism (and other creative fields) is the lack of copyright laws. Lots of music and movies are freely available for download and Leslie told me that students will often photocopy entire textbooks. The real humorous side of this is the store that sells pirated DVDs. For 10 yuan, you can purchase a movie, including a few that haven't been released yet. Some of them were filmed with a handheld camera in a theatre. Some have Chinese voiceover. Many of them have Chinglish in the back cover description. And Americans shamelessly purchase them too.

Now, I really don't want to come off as a snooty, incredulous, or (heaven forbid) ignorant American. These observations were made with far more fascination than disdain. They are exactly the kinds of things I was hoping to encounter. It is why I went across the world.

Please check back. There is more where that came from.

With love.