At the subway station, I walk up to a stand that sells drinks. I notice they have some bottled water and so I walk up to the young girl who works there to ask her for a bottle of water. I am parched since I just finished taiji practice.
"What kind of water do you want?" she asks me.
I don't get it. Behind her are about ten different kinds of drinks and only one of them is water. Did I miss the "beverage" lesson in my Chinese textbook?
"Well, do you have several different kinds of water?" I ask.
"Yes," she says.
I look again and start reading to her. "Well, you have orange juice, oolong tea, green tea, jasmine tea, milk tea, Pepsi... "
She starts laughing at around "jasmine tea" and pulls the water off the shelf.
I always like it when Chinese people laugh at my jokes.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
The Market Near Dongbaoxing Station
I am walking to taiji class today and I am on a quest to find cashews (腰果; yaoguo). When you are hungry but can't have a big meal, what hits the spot more than a bag of cashews?
I decide to take some side streets (actually, I have no choice--I can't find any convenience stores anywhere) on my quest. I thought it would be a quick affair and that I would have time to go to a cafe to study Chinese before my class, but it was not meant to be. No, I was meant to walk around the side streets near where I practice taiji. Suddenly, I stumble upon an outdoor market.
There are many fish vendors. They keep their fish (which are still alive, floating in water) in clear plastic boxes, all of which have plastic hoses going into them to aerate the water so the fish don't die. There are all kinds of fish, and I stand in front of a fish vendor, just staring at all the different kinds. They look like they are dead, but then I see their gills are still moving. They're very cramped and can't swim around. They've resigned to their fate, what else can they do? Try to escape?
I still feel sad for them, although I know the tasty fish dish I ate a few weeks ago, well, contained fish. We live in a world of limits and I know the poor fish lady can't buy big aquariums with toys in them for the fish.
I notice there are some frogs a couple boxes over. They're big and deep, dark green. I say to the lady, "Hey, you have frogs, too." She says they aren't regular frogs, but niu wa (牛蛙). I think "cow frogs?" Then I realize that they are bullfrogs.
I continue through the market and notice all the other things for sale, mostly vegetables. There's a burly sugarcane woman and her knife, which looks like a butcher's knife. She's shaving the rind off and cuts off two pieces for her customer. Then I see the two water chestnut vendors and I notice the skill of one them as he deftly uses his small knife to peel the skin off the brown vegetables, leaving white buttons.
The market it pretty packed. There aren't any foreigners there and so people examine me, the only laowai, as I walk by them. I try to smile at people, and one guy, another vendor, gives me a big smile back. I like being away from the city center, where people aren't used to seeing so many foreigners, and no one is trying to scam me or sell me a fake Rolex.
There's a young girl of about 18 selling something up ahead. Her skin is darker than most girls in Shanghai, and I think if you saw her, you would describe her as pretty. She's squatting down, focused on whatever she's doing. She's got something in one hand and scissors in the other. I notice her hands are bloody. If you are squeamish, I suggest you stop reading here and go check your email or something.
As I get closer, I realize that she is selling small chicks the size of your fist. They are all brown-colored, and they are alive. She's got a bag of them and customers come by and tell her how many they want. She pulls them out one at a time, and, using her scissors, first pulls off the skin and feather. The bird is squirming in her hand. Then, she cuts off the birds feet and wings.
She's a pro, and it's like watching that guy process those water chestnuts, excepts that what she's holding in her hands is alive.
I am looking at this with astonishment. I wonder what does this do to your soul if you do this kind of thing every day. I know that the girl probably has no choice, and that if she could get a job working in an office, she probably would. Maybe this is what her family does to make a living, and she is helping out. I feel compassion for that chick, and I feel compassion for the girl, too.
I see a nut vendor, but he doesn't have any cashews. After I leave the market, I chance upon a convenience store, where I am finally able to find my cashews.
As I get closer,
I decide to take some side streets (actually, I have no choice--I can't find any convenience stores anywhere) on my quest. I thought it would be a quick affair and that I would have time to go to a cafe to study Chinese before my class, but it was not meant to be. No, I was meant to walk around the side streets near where I practice taiji. Suddenly, I stumble upon an outdoor market.
There are many fish vendors. They keep their fish (which are still alive, floating in water) in clear plastic boxes, all of which have plastic hoses going into them to aerate the water so the fish don't die. There are all kinds of fish, and I stand in front of a fish vendor, just staring at all the different kinds. They look like they are dead, but then I see their gills are still moving. They're very cramped and can't swim around. They've resigned to their fate, what else can they do? Try to escape?
I still feel sad for them, although I know the tasty fish dish I ate a few weeks ago, well, contained fish. We live in a world of limits and I know the poor fish lady can't buy big aquariums with toys in them for the fish.
I notice there are some frogs a couple boxes over. They're big and deep, dark green. I say to the lady, "Hey, you have frogs, too." She says they aren't regular frogs, but niu wa (牛蛙). I think "cow frogs?" Then I realize that they are bullfrogs.
I continue through the market and notice all the other things for sale, mostly vegetables. There's a burly sugarcane woman and her knife, which looks like a butcher's knife. She's shaving the rind off and cuts off two pieces for her customer. Then I see the two water chestnut vendors and I notice the skill of one them as he deftly uses his small knife to peel the skin off the brown vegetables, leaving white buttons.
The market it pretty packed. There aren't any foreigners there and so people examine me, the only laowai, as I walk by them. I try to smile at people, and one guy, another vendor, gives me a big smile back. I like being away from the city center, where people aren't used to seeing so many foreigners, and no one is trying to scam me or sell me a fake Rolex.
There's a young girl of about 18 selling something up ahead. Her skin is darker than most girls in Shanghai, and I think if you saw her, you would describe her as pretty. She's squatting down, focused on whatever she's doing. She's got something in one hand and scissors in the other. I notice her hands are bloody. If you are squeamish, I suggest you stop reading here and go check your email or something.
As I get closer, I realize that she is selling small chicks the size of your fist. They are all brown-colored, and they are alive. She's got a bag of them and customers come by and tell her how many they want. She pulls them out one at a time, and, using her scissors, first pulls off the skin and feather. The bird is squirming in her hand. Then, she cuts off the birds feet and wings.
She's a pro, and it's like watching that guy process those water chestnuts, excepts that what she's holding in her hands is alive.
I am looking at this with astonishment. I wonder what does this do to your soul if you do this kind of thing every day. I know that the girl probably has no choice, and that if she could get a job working in an office, she probably would. Maybe this is what her family does to make a living, and she is helping out. I feel compassion for that chick, and I feel compassion for the girl, too.
I see a nut vendor, but he doesn't have any cashews. After I leave the market, I chance upon a convenience store, where I am finally able to find my cashews.
As I get closer,
My Taiwanese Mandarin
I visit Yufo Si (玉佛寺; Jade Buddha Temple) again today and go to the second floor above the main gift shop, where there are beautiful things like Buddhas and dragons made of jade and wood. The man who paints landscapes with the side of his hand is there and he recognizes me from last week and gives me a smile.
There's a beautiful wooden low table for tea behind him, and he invites me to sit and join him. He compliments me profusely on my Chinese, although I know I am still just a beginner. I am humbled every day by this dragon of a language. But he isn't used to seeing laowai who speak Chinese. His coworkers join us, and as we talk, hen kaixin (很 開心; very warmly), tourists who don't speak Chinese walk in to browse.
The girl who works there gives me an English blurb about Pixiu (貔貅) the big-bellied dragon that they display in the store, and I am happy to translate it from Chinglish to English. So, we continue our exchange, and I work on editing the paragraph in between drinking tea and speaking with them. I learn that it is good luck to rub the dragon's belly.
A middle-aged man wearing a motorcycle helmet walks in with his kid, a boy of around eight, who is also wearing a helmet. He watches as we all talk. Then he looks at my friends and says, "His Chinese, he learned it in Taiwan."
I turn to him and tell him he is right. We all talk for a while longer, but after I leave the temple, I am still tickled by the guy's observation and I call my Taiwanese friend Chi up and we laugh.
There's a beautiful wooden low table for tea behind him, and he invites me to sit and join him. He compliments me profusely on my Chinese, although I know I am still just a beginner. I am humbled every day by this dragon of a language. But he isn't used to seeing laowai who speak Chinese. His coworkers join us, and as we talk, hen kaixin (很 開心; very warmly), tourists who don't speak Chinese walk in to browse.
The girl who works there gives me an English blurb about Pixiu (貔貅) the big-bellied dragon that they display in the store, and I am happy to translate it from Chinglish to English. So, we continue our exchange, and I work on editing the paragraph in between drinking tea and speaking with them. I learn that it is good luck to rub the dragon's belly.
A middle-aged man wearing a motorcycle helmet walks in with his kid, a boy of around eight, who is also wearing a helmet. He watches as we all talk. Then he looks at my friends and says, "His Chinese, he learned it in Taiwan."
I turn to him and tell him he is right. We all talk for a while longer, but after I leave the temple, I am still tickled by the guy's observation and I call my Taiwanese friend Chi up and we laugh.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
The Temples of Shanghai
Today, I had the urge to visit a Buddhist temple, and so I went to Yufo Si, which means "Jade Buddha temple". There are two main temples in Shanghai--Jing An Si and Yufo Si.
I visited Jing An temple a few weeks ago during the New Year and found it to be touristy. Of course, Chinese New Year is the time when the masses throng to the temples. Kids and adults were playing a game of throwing money in ceremonial pots, and everyone (including me) had a camera.
My initial impression of China, from my quite narrow view of it from here in Shanghai has been that it is quite un-spiritual. As everyone knows, Shanghai is all about money and bling. As my Chinese friend (who's not from Shanghai) says, everyone is in a rush to achieve success and get rich quick (急功近利).
And for those of you who need a short lesson on Chinese history, 60 years of communism and a cultural revolution haven't been kind to Buddhism, or any religion for that matter.
Nevertheless, I was happy, nay, amazed, to see Chinese people praying, lighting incense, and bowing at the temple. It reminded me of my old home, Taiwan, which is full of temples and people bowing in them.
Yesterday, I was reading a book about Buddhism in present-day Chinese, and the author said that when he went to see the large Buddha on Leshan Mountain in Sichuan, his impression was that it might as well have been a statue of Mickey Mouse--the Chinese tourists with their cameras didn't come to worship, only to take pictures and say that they had visited this famous sight.
Just as I did at Jing An Si a few weeks ago, I paid the 20RMB (which is steep for China) fee to enter Yufo Si. Upon entering, I was again moved to see Chinese people devoutly bowing with incense. Yufo Si is smaller than Jing An Si, but it actually is a monastery (Jing An isn't). I could feel something special there. Maybe it's not just a tourist trap, I thought.
I walked around to the different parts of the temple, seeing the many different Buddhas, but mostly paying attention to the people, old and young, who were there. I didn't really pay attention to the foreign tourists there. I want to know who comes to temples in Shanghai to pray. I was curious.
As I was walking, I came to a small shop within the temple where they were selling statues and other Buddhist supplies. Lest I forget that I am in Shanghai and not Taipei, as soon as I walked in, I was accosted by a professional calligrapher, a performer and salesman, who offered to do calligraphy for me. When I told him I was American, he started talking about America (in English). When I mentioned France, he started saying a few word in French. I walked away to continue exploring the temple and a few seconds later could hear him continuing his spiel in English to the group of tourists just behind me.
After finally seeing the Jade Buddha, I ended up going to another of the shops that are part of the temple complex. I spoke to the girl who worked there in Chinese and began to look around. There was an incredibly intricate carving from a large slab of a tree trunk showing a whole village, probably a whole myth. There were jade marble bracelets. More Buddhas. And at the other side of the room, a bunch of Chinese men sitting around drinking tea.
One of them, upon seeing me, got up and started painting mountain scenes in ink using the meaty part of his hand. He tried speaking English to me until he was interrupted by the girl, who said I can speak Chinese. So, we started talking, and all the guys at the tea table behind us started listening, surprised that a laowai like me can speak Chinese.
His friend joined the conversation and asked me where I learned my Chinese. I said in Taiwan. I mentioned that in Taiwan, there are quite a lot of temples. He nodded his head. He asked if I am here on business, and I told him that I am here to study Chinese.
We had a fun conversation and I even cracked some jokes that made everyone laugh. They told me to come back, and I think I just might do that.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
The Future of China
I get in the crowded subway this morning. A young mother is holding her four year-old daughter's hand and the little girl looks up at me. I give her a big smile. She is precious and keeps looking at me. I smile at her and keep eye contact with her. We're all about to get off the train at People's Square, and I wave goodbye to the little girl. I see her little pink and white knitted gloves starting to move. As her mother's leading her out of the train, she is waving to me.
There is hope for China, perhaps a long time from now.
There is hope for China, perhaps a long time from now.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
China is a Nightmare
I haven't written in my blog for a while for the simple reason that I know that if I write about my experiences in China, they'll inevitably be negative. Why do I want to share that with you, my dear fans? You want me to inspire you, to help you see the beauty and magic of life. Right?
My friend Michael in Seattle, who is also an acupuncturist, wrote me an email recently. He noticed that my blog entries in China haven't been as full of magic as those I wrote while living in Taiwan.
Well, I'm sure you will all be happy to know that I finally have an answer. "There ain't no magic here, that's why!"
Ahh, that feels good to get off my chest. Oh, I'm tingling.
Yeah, after living in Taiwan, if you are interested in Chinese culture, living on the mainland is almost a practical joke. It's almost as if your girlfriend's tatooed, phlegm-spitting, asshole twin sister suddenly takes the place of your soulmate, the woman you've waited your whole life to be with.
I'm sitting in Starbucks studying last week and having a good conversation with a middle-aged guy. He tells me his car was just in an accident, and he's admiring the Chinese characters I'm writing in my notebook.
"Your Chinese is pretty good," he says.
Recently, I've made a resolution to see the good in China, to not be so negative. I feel that if I can change my attitude, that somehow people will suddenly be "good", that I will find the "magic". And so I engage this guy in Starbucks in a conversation.
After my study session, I go downstairs and walk out to my bike. Suddenly, the guy is calling me. "Excuse me, my friend," he says. He's got a whole little act for me, but I'll spare you. To cut to the chase, he asks me for 20RMB, about $2.50.
I am incredulous. All that conversation, for this? In China, you better believe that, yes, all that conversation was, in fact, for the purpose of this punchline.
I'm not going to give him money, and I tell him "no way" (不行) in Chinese.
"You're so cheap," (那麼小氣啊!) he says, and walks away.
I am even more incredulous now. I immediately ride my bike home and call my Taiwanese friend Chi on Skype to ask for her help.
"What do you need?" she asks curiously.
"I need to learn how to say 'Get the fuck out of my face, you asshole' in Chinese."
Chi is cracking up. As you may or may not know, Taiwanese people are experts in the ways of people on the mainland.
In Taiwan, I never needed to learn such profanities, but I feel that I might need to use such sentences here in the mainland. Lest you think I am on a downward spiral here in the PRC, I also think of funny responses (in Chinese) to such requests.
Perhaps I'm still getting used to China. Perhaps I need to just get settled here, get in a groove, and slowly, things will come together.
Don't get me wrong. There are good people here. They'll be embarrassed about the guy in Starbucks. They'll shake their heads and tell you you need to protect yourself a little more from the bad people who are just part of society. And if you are lucky, they'll tell you China needs to evolve.
In a way, China is my teacher. I see this impatient part of me that I've never seen before, and I get to examine it, witness it, maybe even grow. And every day, I get a chance to practice compassion, to be good instead of reacting in a normal, conditioned way.
This afternoon, I go to a bookstore, which is pretty much my favorite thing to do in the world. I get stuck reading a book by some Westerners on how to do business in China.
They mention how Taiwan is one to two generations ahead of China in terms of mentality. Tell me about it. They also say how the failure of communism here, although it led to the deaths of millions, also had an upside, which was to point out to the world quite clearly the flaws of communism and preventing us from repeating them. Living here, I agree.
I come home and do a YouTube search on Taiwan. I watch a video made by the government to promote tourism there. I am practically in tears.
Okay, okay, I'll admit it. There are a few tears.
I eat dinner in my apartment, and then it's time to study. Fortunately, while I am enduring "China", there is the Chinese language, which I love, which keeps me going. It's creative, it's poetic, it's beautiful. I figure I'll go to Starbucks again to study more. Who knows, maybe I'll make another friend, maybe even one who won't ask me for any of my renminbi.
On the way there, while thinking of what I'll write in my blog tonight, I am disturbed by one of the hawkers on the corner near my house. He wants to sell me a fake Rolex or LV bag. I always tell these guys that I am a student and that I need their help to help me practice my Chinese. And so they usually run in the opposite direction. Fortunately, most of them know me already, and so they don't usually even bother me.
But I've never seen this guy. He is persistent, and I don't get upset at all. I just tell him that I need him to help me with my Chinese. He suggests we go to his shop to look at fake merchandise. I ask if he can help me practice my Chinese and teach me a cheng yu, a Chinese proverb, for the day.
After thinking for a second, he says. "Would you like a little maiden?" (姑娘,你要不要?), which I guess, because he uses the word for "maiden" is supposed to sound profound and educated.
I want to learn some advanced Chinese, and this guy is most probably trying to find me a massage parlor.
I think back to my many experiences in Taipei, sipping wulong tea in the mountains and having civilized and warm, friendly conversation with new Taiwanese friends about Chinese culture. I even learned a few cheng yu.
Instead of wanting to leave China on the next plane to Taipei (via Hong Kong), I am curious to see how my journey here will unfold. Will the magic finally appear?
I remember an old Zen teacher of mine. He would say that the magic has already begun.
I say goodbye to my new teacher (the one with the fake Rolexes), and head to Starbucks to write more characters.
My friend Michael in Seattle, who is also an acupuncturist, wrote me an email recently. He noticed that my blog entries in China haven't been as full of magic as those I wrote while living in Taiwan.
Well, I'm sure you will all be happy to know that I finally have an answer. "There ain't no magic here, that's why!"
Ahh, that feels good to get off my chest. Oh, I'm tingling.
Yeah, after living in Taiwan, if you are interested in Chinese culture, living on the mainland is almost a practical joke. It's almost as if your girlfriend's tatooed, phlegm-spitting, asshole twin sister suddenly takes the place of your soulmate, the woman you've waited your whole life to be with.
I'm sitting in Starbucks studying last week and having a good conversation with a middle-aged guy. He tells me his car was just in an accident, and he's admiring the Chinese characters I'm writing in my notebook.
"Your Chinese is pretty good," he says.
Recently, I've made a resolution to see the good in China, to not be so negative. I feel that if I can change my attitude, that somehow people will suddenly be "good", that I will find the "magic". And so I engage this guy in Starbucks in a conversation.
After my study session, I go downstairs and walk out to my bike. Suddenly, the guy is calling me. "Excuse me, my friend," he says. He's got a whole little act for me, but I'll spare you. To cut to the chase, he asks me for 20RMB, about $2.50.
I am incredulous. All that conversation, for this? In China, you better believe that, yes, all that conversation was, in fact, for the purpose of this punchline.
I'm not going to give him money, and I tell him "no way" (不行) in Chinese.
"You're so cheap," (那麼小氣啊!) he says, and walks away.
I am even more incredulous now. I immediately ride my bike home and call my Taiwanese friend Chi on Skype to ask for her help.
"What do you need?" she asks curiously.
"I need to learn how to say 'Get the fuck out of my face, you asshole' in Chinese."
Chi is cracking up. As you may or may not know, Taiwanese people are experts in the ways of people on the mainland.
In Taiwan, I never needed to learn such profanities, but I feel that I might need to use such sentences here in the mainland. Lest you think I am on a downward spiral here in the PRC, I also think of funny responses (in Chinese) to such requests.
Perhaps I'm still getting used to China. Perhaps I need to just get settled here, get in a groove, and slowly, things will come together.
Don't get me wrong. There are good people here. They'll be embarrassed about the guy in Starbucks. They'll shake their heads and tell you you need to protect yourself a little more from the bad people who are just part of society. And if you are lucky, they'll tell you China needs to evolve.
In a way, China is my teacher. I see this impatient part of me that I've never seen before, and I get to examine it, witness it, maybe even grow. And every day, I get a chance to practice compassion, to be good instead of reacting in a normal, conditioned way.
This afternoon, I go to a bookstore, which is pretty much my favorite thing to do in the world. I get stuck reading a book by some Westerners on how to do business in China.
They mention how Taiwan is one to two generations ahead of China in terms of mentality. Tell me about it. They also say how the failure of communism here, although it led to the deaths of millions, also had an upside, which was to point out to the world quite clearly the flaws of communism and preventing us from repeating them. Living here, I agree.
I come home and do a YouTube search on Taiwan. I watch a video made by the government to promote tourism there. I am practically in tears.
Okay, okay, I'll admit it. There are a few tears.
I eat dinner in my apartment, and then it's time to study. Fortunately, while I am enduring "China", there is the Chinese language, which I love, which keeps me going. It's creative, it's poetic, it's beautiful. I figure I'll go to Starbucks again to study more. Who knows, maybe I'll make another friend, maybe even one who won't ask me for any of my renminbi.
On the way there, while thinking of what I'll write in my blog tonight, I am disturbed by one of the hawkers on the corner near my house. He wants to sell me a fake Rolex or LV bag. I always tell these guys that I am a student and that I need their help to help me practice my Chinese. And so they usually run in the opposite direction. Fortunately, most of them know me already, and so they don't usually even bother me.
But I've never seen this guy. He is persistent, and I don't get upset at all. I just tell him that I need him to help me with my Chinese. He suggests we go to his shop to look at fake merchandise. I ask if he can help me practice my Chinese and teach me a cheng yu, a Chinese proverb, for the day.
After thinking for a second, he says. "Would you like a little maiden?" (姑娘,你要不要?), which I guess, because he uses the word for "maiden" is supposed to sound profound and educated.
I want to learn some advanced Chinese, and this guy is most probably trying to find me a massage parlor.
I think back to my many experiences in Taipei, sipping wulong tea in the mountains and having civilized and warm, friendly conversation with new Taiwanese friends about Chinese culture. I even learned a few cheng yu.
Instead of wanting to leave China on the next plane to Taipei (via Hong Kong), I am curious to see how my journey here will unfold. Will the magic finally appear?
I remember an old Zen teacher of mine. He would say that the magic has already begun.
I say goodbye to my new teacher (the one with the fake Rolexes), and head to Starbucks to write more characters.
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