Hello everybody,
I just thought that I'd keep you up to date with things around here, as they gradually wind down to the end of the programme. It's crazy to think that it's less than a month until I board my flight to Shanghai...
It was a sad day for me on Thursday night, when my best Chinese friend, Kevin, left for Xinjiang to go and see his girlfriend. He has finished all his tour guide exams, and obviously all of us here are desperately hoping that he passes. Only about 1 people in 10 pass; however, this little piece of paper is the difference for him between selling pirated DVDs or becoming a well-off tour guide. This piece of paper has the power to change his life absolutely and completely.
I've been spending a lot of time with both friends from the programme itself, and some other friends from my Chinese class. As a class last weekend we went bowling -- it was hilarious, and a great time. Also, it helped that I bowled a 170 point game! My Chinese classes, overall, are very enjoyable -- to be honest, my oral language skills are better than the rest of my class, but my reading and writing (vocab) is at about the same level. It's amazing what having over 15 hours of class a week, completely in Chinese, will do to your listening and speaking.
With the delegates I've been having a great time too. It was Agung's (Indonesia) birthday this week, so we went out to a pizza place on Gannan Street. It was a great time -- apart from those who were sick, all the delegates and some of our other friends came along. It was a wonderful night -- I think it made us all realise how much we're going to miss each other when we go. It's hard to explain, but there's a very real and very strong bond between us all here -- I have made some friends and learned some things which I will never forget. And I did it all on the Gansu Provincial Government's ticket -- something I constantly remind me of. Aside from China, aside from my classes, and aside from the trips, this is probably the thing I'll be most grateful for -- I have a lot of repaying to do when I get back.
I would like to share a typical Lanzhou story with you. There's a very nice family owned restaurant just down the street from the side gate of University which the delegates often go to. We call the owner of the restaurant 'Ayi', which means 'Aunty' -- it's a polite form of address for an older person who we feel close to. So anyway, this lady is incredibly nice to us, and gives us overly generous helpings of anything and everything we order, and will then sit down and talk to us in her broad Lanzhou-ese while we eat. Everytime I go there, she tells me that I'm far, far too thin, and that I need to eat more. So what she'll do is tell me that I need to eat more rice. When I tell her that I couldn't eat any more, she laughs, and brings out another bowl of rice. By the time I've eaten a huge plate of beef, fried bocchoi, and 3 bowls of rice, I'm pretty much ready to explode -- when I finally manage to convince of this, she refuses to charge for the extra rice, then tries to give me a discount on the food. Last time I put the money down on the counter and ran!
To get into the spirit of leaving Lanzhou, obviously, I have to go on a shopping spree. It's about 21RMB per kg to send a package back to NZ (3 month wait though). That means that I have to buy about five more pairs of jeans, more clothes, a couple more suits, various art... you get the picture. From my point of view it's completely worth it -- the prices in NZ for what I'm planning on buying is normally at least double, and sometimes up to five times the price.
How can we pay $120NZD for a pair of jeans in NZ? The manufacturing + shipment + materials cost would be about $25 NZD. Someone's making a lot of money, and it's not the sweatshop workers. We accept a complete disjuncture between manufacturing value and exchange value. That is to say that in New Zealand we blindly accept marketing ploys which deliberately try and divorce these two supposedly related values; instead we have the ideology of charisma, of innate value, of 'style' -- all of which have absolutely nothing to do with material value, and instead are just markers of cultural capital. When I get back to NZ I'm going to refuse to engage in this false economy; of handmade rock doormats blessed by only the best Buddhist monks, of $40 crystal dream catchers, and of $18 'Hello Kitty' mechanical pencils. I paid 2RMB here for 2 mechanical pencils, with spare leads, as well as 4 rubbers. That's a pretty good approximation of its value. So why do we placidly accept the ideology of charisma? Why, in the age of replication, do we still believe in innate value? The answer, I think, is simply that there has been very good and very persistent marketing for a long time.
I feel like Oedipa Maas sometimes over here. I live in a country of 1.3 billion (or 1.6 billion if you believe other sources), and everyday I see members of Tristero living out their lives in the underground walkways, I see them foraging through the rubbish bins for empty plastic bottles which can be sold to the recycling companies, I see them boarding trains carrying the contents of their lives on their back, and I see them dialling the numbers scrawled on the footpath which promise fake degrees, passports, and identity cards. That's the thing about China, I guess -- the Chinese Economic Miracle has increased mobility for almost everyone, but it has not raised the standard of living for all; there is a group of people here which must run into the tens if not hundreds of millions, who have committed themselves to the lines and flow of Chinese Energy, who travel from city to city looking for new hope, new energy, and new lives. What'll happen to the sons of Tristero? What'll happen to this hidden world -- if it exists? Is this group real? Is this Chinese Tristero actually there?
Or am I just imagining it?
Hope you're all well,
Andrew
Friday, November 21, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Snow!
Hello all,
The last couple of days have seen the very first of the winter snow in Lanzhou. It's been getting well below freezing over the last couple of weeks; however, we hadn't had any snow until last night. The exciting part for me wasn't the snow, but the reactions of the Indonesian, Pakistani, and African delegates. Yovanka, from Indonesia, and Faria, from Pakistan, were spotted prancing in the tiny snowflakes, jumping up and catching them, and running around like children.
The Canadian delegates watched idly on.
It really has been very cold here recently. Every time I go outside now I wear my full trenchcoat and several layers underneath, and I have even started to bring the NZ army issue long johns into play underneath my jeans. I would say that I'm not happy about it, but any time I get to wear long johns like these is a good day in my books.
Hope you're all well,
Andrew
The last couple of days have seen the very first of the winter snow in Lanzhou. It's been getting well below freezing over the last couple of weeks; however, we hadn't had any snow until last night. The exciting part for me wasn't the snow, but the reactions of the Indonesian, Pakistani, and African delegates. Yovanka, from Indonesia, and Faria, from Pakistan, were spotted prancing in the tiny snowflakes, jumping up and catching them, and running around like children.
The Canadian delegates watched idly on.
It really has been very cold here recently. Every time I go outside now I wear my full trenchcoat and several layers underneath, and I have even started to bring the NZ army issue long johns into play underneath my jeans. I would say that I'm not happy about it, but any time I get to wear long johns like these is a good day in my books.
Hope you're all well,
Andrew
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Catch-up
Hello all,
It has been an incredibly busy time for me since I have returned from Hexi. For a start, my parents came. Then I had my exams. So basically I've been flat out for the last three weeks, lurching from event to event, and from class to class, trying to keep my head above the water. On the whole, I think I've managed admirably!
There have been many new developments in my life over here. For a start, I am teaching English (for free) at the Lanzhou Academy of Sciences to a Ph.D class. For their doctorates from this rather prestigeous University, the students must publish a paper in English. However, being good at science and research doesn't necessarily make you a good English student, hence the problem. So for 3 hours a week, Paul, Arshad and I all stand at the front of the class, chalk in hand, trying our best to explain what the difference is between, "I want", and "I would like." I was very apprehensive before my first class -- I thought that it would be hard to communicate at all the students, given my accent, their major, and their overall focus. However, I shouldn't have been so worried -- most have a reasonably good vocabulary, so have little trouble understanding me if I talk slowly and carefully. It is when they write and talk that I have trouble -- the Chinese school system places very little emphasis upon spoken English, and so many of the students have trouble opening their mouths to talk to me in front of the class. Nervousness and self-consciousness, really, can be the biggest limitation to communication over here. Also, I was a little bit shocked that when I introduced myself, a 20 year old with no degree, to a class of doctorate students, they insisted on calling me "Teacher Andrew", "Mr Andrew", or just straight out "sir". In my class, I have a 45 year old man who has written four books, published many, many journal articles and is a reasonably well known scholar. I almost fell over laughing, when I asked him to provide an answer: just like a Middle School student, he jumped out of his chair, and said, "Mr Andrew, I think that the answer is...". I told him to sit down, although even now, after my fourth lesson, some still struggle to remain seated when I address them. Honestly, I really enjoy it overall; it gives me a good connection with bright Chinese students, and allows me some sort of theatre where I can 'perform' culture -- a Westerner, with Western teaching methods, teaching a class of Chinese students in English. It's fascinating!
Also, we've had a number of interesting trips. The first one was to a city near Lanzhou, named "Baiying". Baiying, literally means "silver", and it has historically been one of the major sites for non-ferrous metals in China. However, like many places that have large amounts of easily accessible resources, it was over-exploited in the early phases -- like a gold rush, the Maoist 50's and 60's saw huge scale production, which has resulted in Baiying being stripped of much of its wealth. As its resources run out, it is trying to diversify and up-skill; it has a 'hi-tech industrial park', and is generally trying to develop other industries. It will be interesting to check back there in ten or twenty years to measure the success of the project; I get the feeling it is one taken out of necessity, and that the resources are seriously depleted.
Also, we have taken part in a number of interesting trips within Lanzhou. The first was a trip to the Foreign Languages Middle School in Lanzhou. This is a seriously funded Middle School; its facilities would match almost any public school in the West. My parents were also very impressed --there's something about going to a developing country, and then being shown around a state-of-the-art place like this. The teachers spoke very good English (and French, Spanish, and Japanese), and it seems to be a very desirable location for those who can gain entry. Oh yeah, one more thing...it had many thousands of students, and some ridiculous number of buildings, student dormitories and cafeterias.
The next trip was to the Research Institute for Solar Technologies. This is a fascinating place; it has real potential for activating change throughout Gansu. Basically, they are finding more heat efficient ways of heating houses (heat based designs), and finding cheap alternatives to the model of centrally distributed energy. One of the things that struck me most was an all year round solar water heater; they are sold for under 2000 kuai ($400-500NZD) and are incredibly efficient. They work down to temperatures of about -10 degrees; for holiday homes in New Zealand, and even better, normal homes, it's a great idea. Think about it -- if your water cylinder takes up about 40% of your bill, then a system like this would pay for itself within a year, or two at the most. Why spend millions on making new power plants? Surely the way of the future is to change the model of energy distribution to much smaller scales; reducing energy consumption, combined with making better use of energy that we get for free, would be a much better place to start. The national grid in New Zealand is famous, basically, for its incredible inefficiency; most of the coal and natural gas burnt at Marsden Point doesn't even end up being used at all, as it is lost in transmission. Anyway, I think that if someone were to start selling water heaters like this in NZ for under $1500 (and hey, you never know, we could even get a progressive government which would subsidise installation), then they would make a lot of money. It's an opportunity, that's for sure...
It's interesting how scale works around this place; cities larger than Christchurch are situated upon less land than the total size of Ashburton. We really don't know how lucky we are; at least the financial crisis, our immigration policies, and related downturn in the housing market will artificially rescuscitate our quarter-acre pavlova dream. It just seems silly to even think of "4 million people"; that's the population of Lanzhou, the population of a suburb in Beijing, or the population of a 25km x 25km stretch of land in Singapore. It's no wonder that per capita, we are in the top 10 countries in the world for our ecological footprint. The population of China's military is at least five times the total population of New Zealand. This is how scale works over here: about 1/4 of NZ's entire population (or more if you believe other sources than the Chinese Government) was displaced ('moved') in the construction of the Three Gorges Dam. So that's the entire South Island. In the Rangitata Electore there are 60'000 people. The population of Lanzhou University is probably bigger than that. Overall, I count myself lucky to be a New Zealand national every single day; really, our lives are so comfortable and easy -- we can go anywhere and do anything. We don't have elderly people sleeping in sacks in the underpasses (it's -10 degrees at night here now), we don't have to study 18 hours a day to get into University, and then study for another 18 hours a day for 7 years at Uni in order to get a half-decent job. We are always told that the Anzacs died so that we could be free; well, maybe, the developing world toils so that we can be comfortable. Or at least, if it is not 'so that we can be comfortable', they at least toil while we live the 'dream'. Just remember though, that it is a dream; what do others have to sacrifice so that we can live like we do?
Finally, it's been sad for us here recently -- a delegate from Pakistan, and a good friend of mine, Ghazanfar Ali, has had to return home due to his Father having a sudden heart attack. Unfortunately, his Father never recovered, and died two days in Pakistan -- our thoughts are with you Ghazanfar, we miss you and hope that you can find strength at this tragic time.
More to come, including pictures,
Andrew
p.s. sorry for the vitriol about NZ!
It has been an incredibly busy time for me since I have returned from Hexi. For a start, my parents came. Then I had my exams. So basically I've been flat out for the last three weeks, lurching from event to event, and from class to class, trying to keep my head above the water. On the whole, I think I've managed admirably!
There have been many new developments in my life over here. For a start, I am teaching English (for free) at the Lanzhou Academy of Sciences to a Ph.D class. For their doctorates from this rather prestigeous University, the students must publish a paper in English. However, being good at science and research doesn't necessarily make you a good English student, hence the problem. So for 3 hours a week, Paul, Arshad and I all stand at the front of the class, chalk in hand, trying our best to explain what the difference is between, "I want", and "I would like." I was very apprehensive before my first class -- I thought that it would be hard to communicate at all the students, given my accent, their major, and their overall focus. However, I shouldn't have been so worried -- most have a reasonably good vocabulary, so have little trouble understanding me if I talk slowly and carefully. It is when they write and talk that I have trouble -- the Chinese school system places very little emphasis upon spoken English, and so many of the students have trouble opening their mouths to talk to me in front of the class. Nervousness and self-consciousness, really, can be the biggest limitation to communication over here. Also, I was a little bit shocked that when I introduced myself, a 20 year old with no degree, to a class of doctorate students, they insisted on calling me "Teacher Andrew", "Mr Andrew", or just straight out "sir". In my class, I have a 45 year old man who has written four books, published many, many journal articles and is a reasonably well known scholar. I almost fell over laughing, when I asked him to provide an answer: just like a Middle School student, he jumped out of his chair, and said, "Mr Andrew, I think that the answer is...". I told him to sit down, although even now, after my fourth lesson, some still struggle to remain seated when I address them. Honestly, I really enjoy it overall; it gives me a good connection with bright Chinese students, and allows me some sort of theatre where I can 'perform' culture -- a Westerner, with Western teaching methods, teaching a class of Chinese students in English. It's fascinating!
Also, we've had a number of interesting trips. The first one was to a city near Lanzhou, named "Baiying". Baiying, literally means "silver", and it has historically been one of the major sites for non-ferrous metals in China. However, like many places that have large amounts of easily accessible resources, it was over-exploited in the early phases -- like a gold rush, the Maoist 50's and 60's saw huge scale production, which has resulted in Baiying being stripped of much of its wealth. As its resources run out, it is trying to diversify and up-skill; it has a 'hi-tech industrial park', and is generally trying to develop other industries. It will be interesting to check back there in ten or twenty years to measure the success of the project; I get the feeling it is one taken out of necessity, and that the resources are seriously depleted.
Also, we have taken part in a number of interesting trips within Lanzhou. The first was a trip to the Foreign Languages Middle School in Lanzhou. This is a seriously funded Middle School; its facilities would match almost any public school in the West. My parents were also very impressed --there's something about going to a developing country, and then being shown around a state-of-the-art place like this. The teachers spoke very good English (and French, Spanish, and Japanese), and it seems to be a very desirable location for those who can gain entry. Oh yeah, one more thing...it had many thousands of students, and some ridiculous number of buildings, student dormitories and cafeterias.
The next trip was to the Research Institute for Solar Technologies. This is a fascinating place; it has real potential for activating change throughout Gansu. Basically, they are finding more heat efficient ways of heating houses (heat based designs), and finding cheap alternatives to the model of centrally distributed energy. One of the things that struck me most was an all year round solar water heater; they are sold for under 2000 kuai ($400-500NZD) and are incredibly efficient. They work down to temperatures of about -10 degrees; for holiday homes in New Zealand, and even better, normal homes, it's a great idea. Think about it -- if your water cylinder takes up about 40% of your bill, then a system like this would pay for itself within a year, or two at the most. Why spend millions on making new power plants? Surely the way of the future is to change the model of energy distribution to much smaller scales; reducing energy consumption, combined with making better use of energy that we get for free, would be a much better place to start. The national grid in New Zealand is famous, basically, for its incredible inefficiency; most of the coal and natural gas burnt at Marsden Point doesn't even end up being used at all, as it is lost in transmission. Anyway, I think that if someone were to start selling water heaters like this in NZ for under $1500 (and hey, you never know, we could even get a progressive government which would subsidise installation), then they would make a lot of money. It's an opportunity, that's for sure...
It's interesting how scale works around this place; cities larger than Christchurch are situated upon less land than the total size of Ashburton. We really don't know how lucky we are; at least the financial crisis, our immigration policies, and related downturn in the housing market will artificially rescuscitate our quarter-acre pavlova dream. It just seems silly to even think of "4 million people"; that's the population of Lanzhou, the population of a suburb in Beijing, or the population of a 25km x 25km stretch of land in Singapore. It's no wonder that per capita, we are in the top 10 countries in the world for our ecological footprint. The population of China's military is at least five times the total population of New Zealand. This is how scale works over here: about 1/4 of NZ's entire population (or more if you believe other sources than the Chinese Government) was displaced ('moved') in the construction of the Three Gorges Dam. So that's the entire South Island. In the Rangitata Electore there are 60'000 people. The population of Lanzhou University is probably bigger than that. Overall, I count myself lucky to be a New Zealand national every single day; really, our lives are so comfortable and easy -- we can go anywhere and do anything. We don't have elderly people sleeping in sacks in the underpasses (it's -10 degrees at night here now), we don't have to study 18 hours a day to get into University, and then study for another 18 hours a day for 7 years at Uni in order to get a half-decent job. We are always told that the Anzacs died so that we could be free; well, maybe, the developing world toils so that we can be comfortable. Or at least, if it is not 'so that we can be comfortable', they at least toil while we live the 'dream'. Just remember though, that it is a dream; what do others have to sacrifice so that we can live like we do?
Finally, it's been sad for us here recently -- a delegate from Pakistan, and a good friend of mine, Ghazanfar Ali, has had to return home due to his Father having a sudden heart attack. Unfortunately, his Father never recovered, and died two days in Pakistan -- our thoughts are with you Ghazanfar, we miss you and hope that you can find strength at this tragic time.
More to come, including pictures,
Andrew
p.s. sorry for the vitriol about NZ!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Halfway
Hello Everybody,
With my parent's arrival, I've had time to reflect a little -- I am now (scarily) halfway through my trip. What I think became most apparent to me while Mum and Dad were here was how much things that are ridiculous in New Zealand have become perfectly natural for me.
The first example is 'getting anything done'. In China, I think that there is a form to fill in for every single action you could ever undertake, and a receipt to receive to confirm it. Not only that, but there is also the joy of finding it damned near impossible to do something relatively simple. So, for example, we casted our vote by international fax last week. One would have thought that it would be a simple process. However, after going around and around the University, asking at the hotel, and checking out local communications/printing stores, we found that it was quite a lot more difficult than we expected. We were ceaselessly pointed to someone else, who then told us that they couldn't do it -- but we could check back with someone else! Eventually I just rung up Foreign Affairs, and they did it quickly and without fuss; I should have thought about that 4 hours earlier.
The other example is among the service people. Working people in China generally don't fit what we in the West consider as a model for professional service. The attendants giggle when I talk to them, look at them, or come within 5 metres of them. The boat driver we had out to Bingling Temple and Grottoes thought it was perfectly acceptable to play 'Crazy Frog' over his speaker system and dance to it throughout our trip. The chefs at restuarants bring their children out of the backrooms for photos with we foreigners (although my parents didn't experience this one). The people at China Post don't know, don't care, and don't want to serve you unless it's absolutely necessary. You have to maintain constant eye contact and approach them confidently, or else they will escape without serving you. I've become used to it now -- but it was funny for me to try and gauge my parent's reaction when one of these 'out of the ordinary' moments were occuring.
Anyway, I'll post more later -- at the moment I'm studying for my Canterbury University exams, and am very busy. Can't wait until it's over!
Andrew
With my parent's arrival, I've had time to reflect a little -- I am now (scarily) halfway through my trip. What I think became most apparent to me while Mum and Dad were here was how much things that are ridiculous in New Zealand have become perfectly natural for me.
The first example is 'getting anything done'. In China, I think that there is a form to fill in for every single action you could ever undertake, and a receipt to receive to confirm it. Not only that, but there is also the joy of finding it damned near impossible to do something relatively simple. So, for example, we casted our vote by international fax last week. One would have thought that it would be a simple process. However, after going around and around the University, asking at the hotel, and checking out local communications/printing stores, we found that it was quite a lot more difficult than we expected. We were ceaselessly pointed to someone else, who then told us that they couldn't do it -- but we could check back with someone else! Eventually I just rung up Foreign Affairs, and they did it quickly and without fuss; I should have thought about that 4 hours earlier.
The other example is among the service people. Working people in China generally don't fit what we in the West consider as a model for professional service. The attendants giggle when I talk to them, look at them, or come within 5 metres of them. The boat driver we had out to Bingling Temple and Grottoes thought it was perfectly acceptable to play 'Crazy Frog' over his speaker system and dance to it throughout our trip. The chefs at restuarants bring their children out of the backrooms for photos with we foreigners (although my parents didn't experience this one). The people at China Post don't know, don't care, and don't want to serve you unless it's absolutely necessary. You have to maintain constant eye contact and approach them confidently, or else they will escape without serving you. I've become used to it now -- but it was funny for me to try and gauge my parent's reaction when one of these 'out of the ordinary' moments were occuring.
Anyway, I'll post more later -- at the moment I'm studying for my Canterbury University exams, and am very busy. Can't wait until it's over!
Andrew
Monday, October 20, 2008
Up to Hexi: The Home of Beauty and Liquor, in Equally Large Proportions
Hello all,
Last week was one of the most intense of my life, as we spent a week away travelling North to the top of Gansu and back again.It's approximately 1200km from Lanzhou to Dunhuang, travelling through the Hexi Corridor. This area is a long stretch of flat land sandwiched between two large mountain ranges running parallel to each other, North to South. It's an amazing and strategic area with a very long history; from the Silk Road to the Revolutionary Era, this thin stretch of land has been very important in creating and destroying nations. The Chinese say, "Build roads and make a fortune". Well, maybe out here, "Build roads and make a country," would be more appropriate -- the roads are wide, straight and relatively level. This is a testament to Central Government investment, as they build roads so that goods, people, technology, money, and the army are all able to Go-West; and Go-West at speed...
After a five hour drive from Lanzhou we arrived at the first city of the trip: Jinchang. Jinchang is a new city built on the back of the success of the Jinchang Nickel Mining Company, a company that was started as one of the major Maoist era projects in 1964. It is now the largest nickel producer in China, and it also produces large volumes of other non-ferrous metals. In the 60's, Jinchang was a village of about 30'000 people; now, it numbers around 350,000 people, most of whom are first generation migrants to the City providing the necessary 'manpower' for the mines, factories, and service industries which keep the place operating. This town has the second highest income per person in Gansu, which is again mainly due to the success of the mining company -- beyond the higher incomes, it seemed a fairly desolate place in the middle of a desert. We toured the company, and were taken around to see their equipment, factories, and the now defunct strip-mine. We got to look at the heavy machinery and big whirring wheel things!!! Yaay! All I needed was my Tonka Trucks and a sandpit, and I would have been in my element. After all this excitement, obviously it was time for dinner...with the president of this eight billion US dollar company. We ate the local speciality: whole roast sheep. The sheep itself is cooked for 8 hours in a special oven, and then cut up in front of you; truly, it was amazing, and absolutely delicious. Then on to the next city...
I think that Jinchang is a testament to the mobilisation power of China. In New Zealand, and even in places like the US, it is difficult to imagine a city forming in such quick time; the days of massive urbanisation are quite simply behind us in the West. Also, I think that this city showed to us the power of companies in China to create positive change within less developed areas. It is notable, however, that 'company' doesn't really have the same meaning over here as it does in the West. 'Companies' are normally majority owned by a network of government and quasi-autonomous government entities. At this level, the public and the private seem to strangely merge; 'profit' figures for the companies are hard to come by, while the company handbook will proudly tell exactly how much tax and taxable revenue the company had in the last financial year. In some ways this makes a lot of sense -- the profits are plowed back into local economies, rather than in Africa, for example, where large oil producing nations like Nigeria receive little benefit other than civil war. A lot of questions remain to be answered -- but at the moment it seems successful in the sense that this city-come-company-come-government department seems to be performing a lot better than the rest of Gansu, as wages and standards of living are much, much higher.
The next morning we went to our next city, Jiayuguan. The Jiayuguan Pass, the final outpost of the Great Wall, was our first stop in Jiayuguan. This place contained an incredible array of traps, hidden walls, and everything else you can imagine. The Ming Dynasty Great Wall had been visible constantly out of the bus window as we had been travelling North until we finally arrived at what I think is its Westernmost point; it was a powerful experience. I felt very, errr... metaphoric, as I physically stood upon the site of resurfaced and reconstructed History and looked from the Jiayuguan Pass to the mountains to the North and South, the smokestacks to the East in the City, and the wastelands out to the West. Nothing to do but take pictures with the dressed up Mongolian guards/caricatures and carry on I guess...to the next banquet.
The next morning we went out to see more of Jiayuguan. Jiayuguan is a city dominated by a single company -- the Jiayuguan Iron and Steel Company (JISCO). Again, this company comes out of the early Maoist era -- it was established in 1958 because 'Mao wanted an Iron and Steel Company in Northwest China'. However, as the Great Leap Forward began to stumble, workers on the ambitious project returned home to help their families through famine and the Cultural Revolution. The result was that the 'company' was not completed until 1970, and did not make a profit until the 1980's. The company is worth more than 65 billion Yuan (about 17b NZD), and makes most of its money from selling steel and steel dirivitives. It is a hugely sophisticated operation; it has its own thermal power plants to run its many factories (most of which are almost fully automated), its own mines to power the power plants, many control rooms...you get the picture -- it's just one giant machine. A giant successful machine -- Jiayuguan has the highest per capita income in the Gansu region. In fact, this company provides approximately 8% of Gansu's entire GDP. It's no surprise that this company has its own police force assigned to it, and seems to almost run the city. Any place which employs 30,000 people must get something in return, I guess -- especially when their average workers will make $9,000USD per year within the next two years. $9,000US!!! Most farmers here wouldn't make $100USD per year. We had a tour of the amazing steel factory, which featured even bigger whirring machines and big pieces of hot metal and lots of noises and smells and wow. Anyway, after they dragged me out of there, we went out to the JISCO owned Vineyard -- JISCO, it seems, are diversifying into all sorts of operations, and I can only hope that they will be successful.
After a banquet lunch we headed off to Dunhuang -- the highlight of our trip. It had been becoming steadily more arid as we'd been heading North, but by an hour into our trip from Jiayuguan, we were definitely in the Gobi Desert. It was the lack of anything except sand which was probably the biggest giveaway. Actually that's a lie -- sand and giant windfarms. It's great to see alternative energies receiveing serious investment out here. The roads as well were still great, as we travelled along at about 120km/h. A little background: Dunhuang is basically an oasis city, an island of green in the desert; it was part of the Silk Road, and again it is the meeting point for many cultures and people. After 5 hours, we arrived in Dunhuang, and were merrily greeted with another banquet dinner with the Director of Foreign Affairs in Dunhuang. Then we stumbled off to the night market, which sold everything from meat on sticks to fancy mirrors to fake cultural relics. I didn't really know what to expect from Dunhuang, but the first night there was something of a false dawn -- it seemed fascinating, interesting, but much like many tourist places in China. How wrong I was.
The next day in Dunhuang was the highlight of the trip, and probably the highlight of my time in China. First, we went to the Mogao Grottoes. For those of you who know nothing about it, look it up on Wikipedia -- or better still, go there. Basically, it's awe-inspiring. They are a set of caves built into the mountain, each cave containing ancient frescos, sculptures, and other religious idols. All up there are over 450 caves, some of which are as big as a Church, and some which you can only just fit your head into. The very first cave was constructed in 366A.D. Anyway, this place is absolutely amazing. The first cave we went into initially didn't really impress me that much, it was built in the 7th century, etc. etc. -- but why was I being taken into a cave to be shown what looked like some faded paint on a non-descript sculpture? Surely this can't be the highlight of the trip! Then I looked up, and everything fell into place. Thirty-six metres above me was the top of the giant-seated Buddha with a shining face , and what I had been looking at with apathy was in fact his big toe. A shaft of light was shining right onto his head, and the effect was unlike anything I have ever felt before -- I stumbled backwards and almost fell over as the light literally dawned. The frescoes around the wall, again, were amazing, as they told stories and generally gave the impression that they think Buddha's not too shabby a guy.
After another giant Buddha, this one sitting at about 24m, we went off to the lying Buddha cave. For me, this cave was the most amazing of all. Surrounding the Buddha were beautiful yet horrific representations of everyday life, which were a counter-point to the lying Buddha's serene pose as it drifted off into something like but not quite death. The art-works, the sculptures, the frescoes, and the Buddha itself had an overwhelming effect -- when every single inch of the cave is painted, and you are surrounded by religious idols, its difficult to not be amazed by how these people devoted their entires lives to their beliefs. In the tight atmosphere of these caves, it is easy to understand this devotion -- isolated from the outside world people must have come here to reflect, worship, and adore.
From a cultural studies point of view, the Grottoes are also fascinating in that they demonstrate the entrenchment of religious within culture. In the early caves, the sculptures are noticeably Indian in appearance -- they have darker skin and a more central Asian/Subcontinental face structure. By the time we get to the more recent caves and frescoes, they are much more Chinese in appearance, with lighter skin, flatter faces, and more slanted eyes. Similarly, in the early caves, the ancient Chinese Gods of Thunder, Lightening, Rain, and Wind appear alongside Buddha, tempting him to come out of his pose under the Lotus Tree; however, by the time we are in 13th Century caves, such Gods seem to have disappeared, and have been replaced by what we associate much more with modern Buddhism. The stories too seem to fit the myth templates which we associate with religion; call to arms, difficulties, assistance, success or failure, and finally, resurrection. In fact, some of the stories reminded me so much of Christianity that I had to check to make sure he was still talking about what was inside the caves. The iconography, the history, the culture, the art, and the religion all combined in a mixture which I am still struggling to take in -- I could have stayed there for days, looking at the gold tipped frescoes, or just staring up at the Giant Buddha.
After this, I didn't think there was anything left in Dunhuang which I would really want to see -- I mean everything must suffer in comparison, right? Well, sort of. We went out to the Crescent Moon Lake, which is situated amongst the sand dunes. Apparently, when the wind gets up, the sand dunes sound like they're singing, but fortunately that wasn't the case when we went out there. The Lake itself is interesting and unexpected -- sort of like Dunhuang, in a way. The Lake lies between two high sand dunes, and never goes dry, as it is fed from an underground spring. It forms an interesting crescent shape, hence the name; but perhaps most interestingly of all, during the night, the sand which has blown into the lake during the night floats to the top, and is then carried back onto the sand dunes due to the micro-climate of the area. Anyway, after taking a look at the lake, we decided to climb the sand-dune. This sounds easy, but it's not. You sink and slide on every single step, so you are incredibly exhausted by the time you even make a quarter of the way up. The two New Zealanders, Paul and I, proudly made it to the top first, and took a look around our surroundings -- desert everywhere, except for the lush greens of Dunhuang away to the North. So anyway, then I decided to have a bit of excitement. For the princely sum of 15yuan, you can sit in a wooden board and slide down the hill. I suspect the safety measures aren't too strict; the guy explained it all to me in Chinese, which I half understood. He asked if I was ready, I said, "No", and he pushed me anyway. It was so much fun! By the time I got to the bottom I was really moving, bouncing all over the place, and almost flipping, until finally I came to rest in the middle of the only thorn bush in the entirety of the Gobi Desert. It was worth it though!
Then, it was on to the camels. I mean it makes sense right? Go to Crescent Moon Lake for the water, stay for the camels! Anyway, we went over to the approximately 100 camels sitting around looking cranky and smelling worse, and were promptly put on them by the Director of Foreign Affairs. Most of the camels took it graciously. Mine didn't. It whinnied in a camel-ey sort of way, and screamed a little bit, just to make sure that I thought back to my human-animal relations modules I did at University last year. When it was sure I was feeling guilty, it stood up without any prompting. For those who know how a camel stands up, it's not good when it happens without warning. First they lurch forward and then back in sudden jarring motions. Somehow, I held on, and waited for the others to get moving. Our camel train moved serenely over to the gate, and after a good 5 minutes, we all got down and returned to the hotel for another banquet.
I was planning on having a quiet night -- honestly, I was exhausted. However, China had other ideas for me. Turned out someone who we know in Lanzhou is friends with some people in Dunhuang. The Lanzhou person asked the Dunhuang person to invite us all out for drinks that evening. So we did. And we did. These people were serious drinkers; every toast meant that the full glass of beer had to be finished. And so, after a few too many "ganbei's", we toddled off to bed, happy, tired, and not looking forward to leaving Dunhuang.
But leave we did. Primarily, this day was taken up with travelling -- a six and a half hour journey, through Jiayuguan, and on to Zhangye City. Zhangye City is special for we New Zealanders because Shandan, the area where Rewi Alley lived, is a county area of the city. The first thing we did after getting off the bus was head straight off to the Giant Buddha Temple. This temple featured the longest indoor Lying Buddha in China, at 24m long. It's a truly beautiful sculpture, and again, I can see why it is a focal point for religious worship in the area. After this temple, we headed off for...another banquet! At this banquet, I had to make a speech; Zhangye and Christchurch are moving forward with a sister-city relationship, and being the Chinese home of Rewi Alley, it was important that I say a few words to celebrate the occasion, and discuss the effect that this man had upon NZ/China relations. After those 'few words', it was toasting time; the Mayor of Zhangye, particularly, seemed keen to toast me, and told me I was to toast every table 'one-by-one'. Joy. Overall, though, it was a great night, and Zhangye seems to be an interesting city from what we saw of it.
The next morning our visits were rearranged due to rain. We went to two rather interesting locations: the first was a water saving exhibition. For me, what was most interesting was the way that Gansu manages its limited water resources. The people of Zhangye are allowed a maximum of 150L of water per household, per day. Unlike in the West, China is taking resource demands seriously; as the standard of living increases, the Chinese government is attempting to create an environmentally friendly society. The success of this is yet to be seen -- the chic value of owning a brand-new personal car, for the moment, seems to outweigh the less tangible benefits of continuing with low-energy consumption practices. The next visit was a local village, which is part of the 'New Socialist Countryside'. What this means is anyone's guess; 'socialism' in China is a portmanteu word, which basically means 'the prevalent political theory/policy of the moment'. So, for example, the 'New Socialist Countryside' now involves transferrable leases on farmland, and some ability to transfer title to the land. The results, however, are amazing; 98% of farmers have comprehensive government subsidised medical insurance, they have high quality roading, mechanised farming, and an average income of 4831yuan per year. This is nearly triple what they had ten years ago. What does this all mean though? There are over 800million peasants in China, and huge levels of income inequality between city and country (~0.50 on the GINI index); the 'New Socialist Countryside' will be an interesting place to be in the next twenty years, as China tries to balance its growth and maintain stability. I think though that if there's anywhere that can do it, it's this place.
After these visits, it was off to Shandan, to the home of Rewi Alley. The place itself, I guess, was sort of like any other Chinese county...sort of. For a start, it had an amazing resemblance to the Canterbury Plains, if you looked strategically past the Ming Dynasty Great Wall. For me though, it was special. The Rewi Alley Museum was interesting, in a hagiographical sort of way. What I didn't realise, however, is that Alley himself had a huge and priceless collection of cultural artifacts -- walking around the place let me feel his incredible love for China, and the strength of his devotion to a people and a culture. After the Museum we went to the Baile School; this, for me, was very moving. The place, now, is basically a school with an interesting heritage and a special New Zealand connection. What started me thinking though was what this man and his 'comrades' did during the Revolutionary Era -- in the middle of nowhere, the set up a school, sacrificing the self for the promotion of others. Out here one can feel the strength of his devotion and the effect that he had upon these people; how can we even begin to imagine trekking for over a month from Lanzhou to Shandan, along terrible roads, to come to a desert seemingly an infinite distance away from anything familiar, in order to service some dream, some spirit, some sense that things should be better? I don't know if I can even begin to relate; it's like it's a different time, a different ethic, and it seems, a different planet. What would Rewi Alley make of modern Lanzhou? How about Beijing and Shanghai?
For that matter, where does Maoist Communism fit in with China's huge growth, production, and exporting?
After Shandan, it was off to yet another city -- Wuwei. This was the final stop on our tour, and by now, most of us were feeling exhausted after a full week on the road. That night we had another banquet, another meeting with the local officials, and another night of Baijiu and excellent food. I was suckered into hanging around for some more drinks, as the officials of the city taught me how to play Chinese drinking games. Many, many cups of Baijiu later, I had learnt the game, but lost the war!
Then, finally, after an incredible tour of Gansu's Northwest, we headed off back to Lanzhou. Who would have thought, in early September, that we would celebrate the arrival of the bright lights of Lanzhou, and a bowl of beef noodles? When we got back, it tasted scarily like home...
Hope you're all well,
Andrew
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Business Investment, and Middle School Superstardom
Hello everybody,
The last couple of days have, again, been fascinating. Our two official outings were to the Gansu Bureau of Foreign Investment and Trade, and to an area outside Lanzhou to go to the Number 69 Middle School.
The Bureau of Foreign Investment and Trade was an incredibly interesting insight into the development of China, and more specifically, of Gansu. First, a couple of facts I didn't realise: 1) Gansu has the second lowest GDP per capita of any province in China, 2) although Gansu is very reliant on its primary industries, they only make up 14.3% of Gansu's total domestic product. This is an indication of the way that the economy works over here -- local low value goods, such as Polyethylene, Potatoes, Corn, and so on, are sent out of Gansu for processing. This is where the most value is added to the goods, and subsequently, it is the secondary and tertiary stages of production which attract the most profit. In the context of China, this means that the areas of high levels of production -- the East -- is that which is making the most profit, while the West unfortunately is not able to develop as quickly. The government of China is contributing billions of yuan to development projects out here, and the results are obvious -- the expressways for example are brilliant, fast, and smooth. While the government is trying its best to correct this and develop the West of China, however, the West still remains some distance behind the East. Gansu is increasingly attracting foreign investment, for its 10 000 MGW windfarm, its wine industry, amongst others. What is clear, however, is that Gansu most of all needs technology and skills transfers; for the key steps of manufacturing and processing, it is not lack of investment, but their simple inability to construct and operate the necessary processing machinery and technology which holds Gansu back. Certainly, high value-adding processing plants for local agriculture would be great for the area, but instead, we end up seeing farmers driving slowly into town on their 3-wheel tractors at with a trailer load full of their potatoes/walnuts/melons/whatever, in order to sell them at an impromptu market on the street somewhere. Anyway, after the meeting, we went to a banquet, which was one of the most amusing we have had; Mr Ding was playing his usual tricks, and making us all toast the Director, to see whether he could manage "toasting to us 23 cups of wine". He did, and then started singing love songs and army songs over the P.A.!
The next day we went out on a trip to Lanzhou Number 69 Middle School. It's located about 40km outside of Lanzhou, which was fine for 38km of the trip; however, once off the highway, the bus was launching from pothole to pothole, as went along what they euphemistically called the 'road' to the school. The school has a roll of 1600, including the children from the primary school, which is attached to the middle school. The school itself, while not being flash, was at least reasonably clean and tidy, and not too run down. We were immediately posted into a classroom to teach English; Karombe and I went to the older students (15-16 years old), and tried our best to facilitate class discussion. It didn't work too well -- for a start, the children were painfully shy and embarrassed, and for another, I don't think they're too used to my Nuw Zild accent. They were amazed, however, that I could write Chinese characters, and that I came from a place where the farmers are the rich people! Both were equally astounding to the children. Every time they addressed me, they stood up from their seat and gave a slight bow; when I suggested that they call me 'Andrew' (not 'Laoshi', 'Waiguo Pengyou', or any other title) and that they stay seated when they answer me, they were at once confused and uncertain: 'But...but...you're our teacher, we have to stand up!' Perhaps the funniest moment was when one of the children uttered a politically sensitive slogan (in English), that only I managed to hear; when I asked him what he said, he completely changed what he said, and asked an innocuous question about sheep. Apparently, even in this environment, some anti-colonial sentiments abound, and English is the language to mobilise these thoughts in. The classroom itself was quite nice -- they even had a widescreen TV in the class, which was something I did not expect at all.
Anyway, after we finished class, we headed out onto the main courtyard to observe the students' daily exercises. There was a definite mixture of apathy and boredom amongst the students; I have a couple of videos that I will post which may amuse you. We were absolutely mobbed by the kids during their break-time; we were objects of absolute fascination as they ran over to us and all demanded photos. They must never see foreigners -- it was as though I was David Beckham in a room full of middle-aged females. At one point, we must have had about 1000 children all around us, talking, yelling, screaming, jumping, laughing, and generally looking as though they had had too much lime cordial. It'll be quite a comedown in status when I return to NZ, that's for sure -- over here I'm met by mayors, governors, and everyone is fascinated by me and basically everything that is the enigma of a tall GENUINE Westerner! All of this was followed by some cultural performances from the children, which were absolutely spectacular; the children never missed a beat, while being incredibly modest and shy -- something I have also become very used to in China.
After the school visit, we headed out to a local village, to view the houses and fields. The houses were modest and very different to what we have seen in the city; however, they seemed slightly larger, and perhaps more suited to the environment -- cool in summer, warm in winter, and the beds even have fires underneath them to heat them during the long winter nights. At the moment, they all have corn drying in the sun outside in the court yards, and it's quite obvious that the people are beginning to prepare for winter. The fields themselves were interesting as well; they are completely different to anything I have seen in New Zealand. For a start, they were growing corn, chillis, tomatos, potatos, eggplant, Chinese cabbage, and other vegetables. High efficiency mechanised farming is about 180 degrees from where these people are; the farmers were using spades to hand-plough their small paddocks, the three wheel farm vehicles were chugging slowly by, and people were hand picking all of their produce. I have been told that a relatively well off farming family in China (if that is not an oxymoron) will have a farm which is about 2 'mu' in size. 'Mu' is a Chinese measure for area, and it equates to 666.6square metres; thus an relatively large farm will only be about 1300 square metres in size. To put that in proportion, that's less than 40m long, and less than 40m wide. How anyone can make profit off that I really do not know; most farmers live off less than 2000RMB ($300USD) per year.
Out of all the farm experience, I guess that I gained a sense of how amazingly resiliant these people are; after famines, poverty, drought, and incredibly hard lives, they still 'beat on, boats against the current'. In China, there are 800 million peasants/farmers, and 500 million living in the city; old and new China seem to live side by side, increasingly connected yet also disconnected. Revolutionary slogans from the 1960's still adorn some people's houses; the changes in the City seem to be only marginally reflected out here. I think that if the Chinese government manages to keep China together and reach across the gender/ethnicity/city-country/wealth divides, it will be an amazing and unprecedented achievement; that said, lifting 200million people out of poverty in the last 25 years is in itself something no one could have or would have dreamed of back in the 80's. A real positive, I guess, out of the trip is that it seems that these children at least seem to be gaining a reasonable education -- the one real escalator out of peasantry and into the urban knowledge elite. Proof of the success of some of the schools in more rural areas is that Universities here are full of people whose parents are farmers; sitting above them and behind them is the hope of people who previously had little -- this must be why they stay in bad dorms, and study 18 hour days, 7 days a week. The problem is though that I know that the further out you get, the lower the standards of education; I can't imagine what some of the schools must be like out in the middle of the countryside...
Anyway, hope all is well,
Andrew
p.s. Check out Paul Rutherford's blog, it's a bundle of fun, and a whole lot more thorough than mine'll ever be! http://chchtogansu.blogspot.com/
p.p.s. My photos aren't uploading at the moment, so I'll put up a post purely of photos tonight or tomorrow.
The last couple of days have, again, been fascinating. Our two official outings were to the Gansu Bureau of Foreign Investment and Trade, and to an area outside Lanzhou to go to the Number 69 Middle School.
The Bureau of Foreign Investment and Trade was an incredibly interesting insight into the development of China, and more specifically, of Gansu. First, a couple of facts I didn't realise: 1) Gansu has the second lowest GDP per capita of any province in China, 2) although Gansu is very reliant on its primary industries, they only make up 14.3% of Gansu's total domestic product. This is an indication of the way that the economy works over here -- local low value goods, such as Polyethylene, Potatoes, Corn, and so on, are sent out of Gansu for processing. This is where the most value is added to the goods, and subsequently, it is the secondary and tertiary stages of production which attract the most profit. In the context of China, this means that the areas of high levels of production -- the East -- is that which is making the most profit, while the West unfortunately is not able to develop as quickly. The government of China is contributing billions of yuan to development projects out here, and the results are obvious -- the expressways for example are brilliant, fast, and smooth. While the government is trying its best to correct this and develop the West of China, however, the West still remains some distance behind the East. Gansu is increasingly attracting foreign investment, for its 10 000 MGW windfarm, its wine industry, amongst others. What is clear, however, is that Gansu most of all needs technology and skills transfers; for the key steps of manufacturing and processing, it is not lack of investment, but their simple inability to construct and operate the necessary processing machinery and technology which holds Gansu back. Certainly, high value-adding processing plants for local agriculture would be great for the area, but instead, we end up seeing farmers driving slowly into town on their 3-wheel tractors at with a trailer load full of their potatoes/walnuts/melons/whatever, in order to sell them at an impromptu market on the street somewhere. Anyway, after the meeting, we went to a banquet, which was one of the most amusing we have had; Mr Ding was playing his usual tricks, and making us all toast the Director, to see whether he could manage "toasting to us 23 cups of wine". He did, and then started singing love songs and army songs over the P.A.!
The next day we went out on a trip to Lanzhou Number 69 Middle School. It's located about 40km outside of Lanzhou, which was fine for 38km of the trip; however, once off the highway, the bus was launching from pothole to pothole, as went along what they euphemistically called the 'road' to the school. The school has a roll of 1600, including the children from the primary school, which is attached to the middle school. The school itself, while not being flash, was at least reasonably clean and tidy, and not too run down. We were immediately posted into a classroom to teach English; Karombe and I went to the older students (15-16 years old), and tried our best to facilitate class discussion. It didn't work too well -- for a start, the children were painfully shy and embarrassed, and for another, I don't think they're too used to my Nuw Zild accent. They were amazed, however, that I could write Chinese characters, and that I came from a place where the farmers are the rich people! Both were equally astounding to the children. Every time they addressed me, they stood up from their seat and gave a slight bow; when I suggested that they call me 'Andrew' (not 'Laoshi', 'Waiguo Pengyou', or any other title) and that they stay seated when they answer me, they were at once confused and uncertain: 'But...but...you're our teacher, we have to stand up!' Perhaps the funniest moment was when one of the children uttered a politically sensitive slogan (in English), that only I managed to hear; when I asked him what he said, he completely changed what he said, and asked an innocuous question about sheep. Apparently, even in this environment, some anti-colonial sentiments abound, and English is the language to mobilise these thoughts in. The classroom itself was quite nice -- they even had a widescreen TV in the class, which was something I did not expect at all.
Anyway, after we finished class, we headed out onto the main courtyard to observe the students' daily exercises. There was a definite mixture of apathy and boredom amongst the students; I have a couple of videos that I will post which may amuse you. We were absolutely mobbed by the kids during their break-time; we were objects of absolute fascination as they ran over to us and all demanded photos. They must never see foreigners -- it was as though I was David Beckham in a room full of middle-aged females. At one point, we must have had about 1000 children all around us, talking, yelling, screaming, jumping, laughing, and generally looking as though they had had too much lime cordial. It'll be quite a comedown in status when I return to NZ, that's for sure -- over here I'm met by mayors, governors, and everyone is fascinated by me and basically everything that is the enigma of a tall GENUINE Westerner! All of this was followed by some cultural performances from the children, which were absolutely spectacular; the children never missed a beat, while being incredibly modest and shy -- something I have also become very used to in China.
After the school visit, we headed out to a local village, to view the houses and fields. The houses were modest and very different to what we have seen in the city; however, they seemed slightly larger, and perhaps more suited to the environment -- cool in summer, warm in winter, and the beds even have fires underneath them to heat them during the long winter nights. At the moment, they all have corn drying in the sun outside in the court yards, and it's quite obvious that the people are beginning to prepare for winter. The fields themselves were interesting as well; they are completely different to anything I have seen in New Zealand. For a start, they were growing corn, chillis, tomatos, potatos, eggplant, Chinese cabbage, and other vegetables. High efficiency mechanised farming is about 180 degrees from where these people are; the farmers were using spades to hand-plough their small paddocks, the three wheel farm vehicles were chugging slowly by, and people were hand picking all of their produce. I have been told that a relatively well off farming family in China (if that is not an oxymoron) will have a farm which is about 2 'mu' in size. 'Mu' is a Chinese measure for area, and it equates to 666.6square metres; thus an relatively large farm will only be about 1300 square metres in size. To put that in proportion, that's less than 40m long, and less than 40m wide. How anyone can make profit off that I really do not know; most farmers live off less than 2000RMB ($300USD) per year.
Out of all the farm experience, I guess that I gained a sense of how amazingly resiliant these people are; after famines, poverty, drought, and incredibly hard lives, they still 'beat on, boats against the current'. In China, there are 800 million peasants/farmers, and 500 million living in the city; old and new China seem to live side by side, increasingly connected yet also disconnected. Revolutionary slogans from the 1960's still adorn some people's houses; the changes in the City seem to be only marginally reflected out here. I think that if the Chinese government manages to keep China together and reach across the gender/ethnicity/city-country/wealth divides, it will be an amazing and unprecedented achievement; that said, lifting 200million people out of poverty in the last 25 years is in itself something no one could have or would have dreamed of back in the 80's. A real positive, I guess, out of the trip is that it seems that these children at least seem to be gaining a reasonable education -- the one real escalator out of peasantry and into the urban knowledge elite. Proof of the success of some of the schools in more rural areas is that Universities here are full of people whose parents are farmers; sitting above them and behind them is the hope of people who previously had little -- this must be why they stay in bad dorms, and study 18 hour days, 7 days a week. The problem is though that I know that the further out you get, the lower the standards of education; I can't imagine what some of the schools must be like out in the middle of the countryside...
Anyway, hope all is well,
Andrew
p.s. Check out Paul Rutherford's blog, it's a bundle of fun, and a whole lot more thorough than mine'll ever be! http://chchtogansu.blogspot.com/
p.p.s. My photos aren't uploading at the moment, so I'll put up a post purely of photos tonight or tomorrow.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Kazakhstanis, Women, and the Anti-Porn Porn Society
Hello all,
Last night, I had one of the scariest stereotype-fulfilling evenings I have ever had. After a good night out, we headed back to the Guest House to have one more beer and then go to bed. That was until 4 Kazakhstanis arrived, with 18 700mL bottles of beer. I knew it was trouble when a Kazakh sat down, opened a beer with his teeth, and then gave it to me all in one swift movement, saying "This for you. We make friend. We drink." They would not take 'no' for an answer; I was told, after Ashley went to bed, that I was in the for the long haul: "She is woman. She can go bed. But we are boy. We drink." It seemed to be pretty clear cut that I was expected to drink with them until the sun came up. Now I was not particularly willing to do this; that heady combination of their sublimated sexism, aggressive masculinity, and me not wanting a hangover all gave me reason to toddle off to bed while the leader of the pack (yes, it really was that aggressive and animalistic) was looking for something in his bag. Dale, apparently, had the heat increased on him after I went to bed -- whereas previously I was a distraction, he was suddenly alone. I went to bed at 1:30a.m. Dale ended up in bed at about 3:45a.m. -- in which time they had finished all the beers, and bought another 9 bottles from the euphemistically titled 'Vegetable Supermarket'. Let me just say I'm glad I got out when I did. Dale woke up fully clothed on top of his bed with an open beer bottle on his bedside table, at 9am, and was less than thrilled about the prospect of the remaining day.
I have another related story. A friend of mine, Kvanch, is a Russian from Uzbekistan. He tells some wicked stories: for example, he told me that for Valentine's Day, he climbed in through his girlfriend's window on the 5th floor with the help of a fire ladder, and gave her 101 White and Red Dutch Roses. He even offered to teach Ashley how to become a good Russian Wife; he tells us that, "The Russian Women, they cook, they clean, they love, they can do ANYTHING, and if you ask them, they will!" Apparently, he owns 2 houses is his home town, but prefers to stay with his grandmother because she is a great cook. Anyway, the point of me talking about Kvanch was this: the Kazakh tradition, as I've had it explained to me, is to literally 'take a wife'. This means that when you find a woman you like, you take her; it's culturally condoned kidnapping. Kvanch has a heavy gold chain that he proudly sports around his neck; his friend gave it to him after he helped this friend 'take a wife'. The friend had coveted this woman for quite some time. He decided that he loved her. Kazakh courtship is perhaps a little different to what you might expect in the West. In traditional Kazakh style, after he decided he loved her, he took her. He simply pulled over in his car one day, with Kvanch, rolled her up in a big piece of carpet, and bundled her into the car. A week later they were married, and the girl's father had a brand new sports car. The wife was taken.
Now, the point of all this, to draw a very long bow, is that for these people, this way of thinking is as natural as breathing. Culture is, after all, just a collection of social constructs which you take for granted. I personally find this way of talking and thinking completely repulsive; however, they are very confused that we 'allow' our women so much freedom.
Back to China for a moment. China, I have found, is similarly structurally sexist. I am not going to deny the salary-gap in the West between men and women, disparities certainly exist, and there is a long way to go before equality is reached. Over here, however, the disparities are much, much larger. I notice it all the time -- I feel like I'm living in a male fantasy, or at the very least, in a porn-society. All of the hotel assistants wear very short skirts, or qipaos with side slits basically up to their armpits. For a start, I thought this was just reverse Orientalism; that the Western fantasy tropes had been retrojected into Chinese society in areas where they work in service of foreigners. However, now, I think that it this is simply how it is; that is to say that service workers are to be seen and not heard. The pictures around the town such as the advertising for local companies seems to be highly pornographic in a way even the West can't match. It is assumed, whenever any man goes into a massage place, that they will want the 'extra service'. Indeed, on the way to the pub last night, we spotted 4 sex shops in the space of about 400m (which translates into English as Husband-Wife Use Articles), and several more places which offer 'extra service'. When I was out shopping the other day in a converted temple, there were pornographic books and movies laid out onto the tables, right next to the silk fans, dragon shaped tobacco pipes, and fake greenstone accessories. I have been told, however, that in China, pornography is illegal, as are strip shows. In my class, I have (poorly) translated a famous poem:
"You are on the bridge observing the scenery,
The people observing the scenery are upstairs watching you,
Next month you will decorate your window
You decorate other people's dreams."
This, to me, captures the role of women in China: they are scenery, they are the natural, sublime, and romantic, they are things to be looked at, but ultimately, they are part of the background -- they are the object of gaze. I have been told that female tour guides who fail the test, may be passed if they are sufficiently attractive. Overall, it is harder for women to be promoted, to get a high paying job, and to escape the shackles of being a woman in a man's world.
I guess, all up, the point is is that China is remarkably morally conservative, for better or for worse. The boys' club is very, very powerful.
Anyway, aside from this, I've had a great time over the last few days! I have had hot pot with the Zhang family, done some shopping, caught up on homework, and generally been very conscientious. It's very easy to get behind in my Chinese classes, and when I have both Chinese homework and my New Zealand University work, it makes for a heavy course load. Still though, I have plenty of time to do the things I want to do.
The first month has been fantastic, and I am only looking forward to the next three...
Later now!
Andrew
Last night, I had one of the scariest stereotype-fulfilling evenings I have ever had. After a good night out, we headed back to the Guest House to have one more beer and then go to bed. That was until 4 Kazakhstanis arrived, with 18 700mL bottles of beer. I knew it was trouble when a Kazakh sat down, opened a beer with his teeth, and then gave it to me all in one swift movement, saying "This for you. We make friend. We drink." They would not take 'no' for an answer; I was told, after Ashley went to bed, that I was in the for the long haul: "She is woman. She can go bed. But we are boy. We drink." It seemed to be pretty clear cut that I was expected to drink with them until the sun came up. Now I was not particularly willing to do this; that heady combination of their sublimated sexism, aggressive masculinity, and me not wanting a hangover all gave me reason to toddle off to bed while the leader of the pack (yes, it really was that aggressive and animalistic) was looking for something in his bag. Dale, apparently, had the heat increased on him after I went to bed -- whereas previously I was a distraction, he was suddenly alone. I went to bed at 1:30a.m. Dale ended up in bed at about 3:45a.m. -- in which time they had finished all the beers, and bought another 9 bottles from the euphemistically titled 'Vegetable Supermarket'. Let me just say I'm glad I got out when I did. Dale woke up fully clothed on top of his bed with an open beer bottle on his bedside table, at 9am, and was less than thrilled about the prospect of the remaining day.
I have another related story. A friend of mine, Kvanch, is a Russian from Uzbekistan. He tells some wicked stories: for example, he told me that for Valentine's Day, he climbed in through his girlfriend's window on the 5th floor with the help of a fire ladder, and gave her 101 White and Red Dutch Roses. He even offered to teach Ashley how to become a good Russian Wife; he tells us that, "The Russian Women, they cook, they clean, they love, they can do ANYTHING, and if you ask them, they will!" Apparently, he owns 2 houses is his home town, but prefers to stay with his grandmother because she is a great cook. Anyway, the point of me talking about Kvanch was this: the Kazakh tradition, as I've had it explained to me, is to literally 'take a wife'. This means that when you find a woman you like, you take her; it's culturally condoned kidnapping. Kvanch has a heavy gold chain that he proudly sports around his neck; his friend gave it to him after he helped this friend 'take a wife'. The friend had coveted this woman for quite some time. He decided that he loved her. Kazakh courtship is perhaps a little different to what you might expect in the West. In traditional Kazakh style, after he decided he loved her, he took her. He simply pulled over in his car one day, with Kvanch, rolled her up in a big piece of carpet, and bundled her into the car. A week later they were married, and the girl's father had a brand new sports car. The wife was taken.
Now, the point of all this, to draw a very long bow, is that for these people, this way of thinking is as natural as breathing. Culture is, after all, just a collection of social constructs which you take for granted. I personally find this way of talking and thinking completely repulsive; however, they are very confused that we 'allow' our women so much freedom.
Back to China for a moment. China, I have found, is similarly structurally sexist. I am not going to deny the salary-gap in the West between men and women, disparities certainly exist, and there is a long way to go before equality is reached. Over here, however, the disparities are much, much larger. I notice it all the time -- I feel like I'm living in a male fantasy, or at the very least, in a porn-society. All of the hotel assistants wear very short skirts, or qipaos with side slits basically up to their armpits. For a start, I thought this was just reverse Orientalism; that the Western fantasy tropes had been retrojected into Chinese society in areas where they work in service of foreigners. However, now, I think that it this is simply how it is; that is to say that service workers are to be seen and not heard. The pictures around the town such as the advertising for local companies seems to be highly pornographic in a way even the West can't match. It is assumed, whenever any man goes into a massage place, that they will want the 'extra service'. Indeed, on the way to the pub last night, we spotted 4 sex shops in the space of about 400m (which translates into English as Husband-Wife Use Articles), and several more places which offer 'extra service'. When I was out shopping the other day in a converted temple, there were pornographic books and movies laid out onto the tables, right next to the silk fans, dragon shaped tobacco pipes, and fake greenstone accessories. I have been told, however, that in China, pornography is illegal, as are strip shows. In my class, I have (poorly) translated a famous poem:
"You are on the bridge observing the scenery,
The people observing the scenery are upstairs watching you,
Next month you will decorate your window
You decorate other people's dreams."
This, to me, captures the role of women in China: they are scenery, they are the natural, sublime, and romantic, they are things to be looked at, but ultimately, they are part of the background -- they are the object of gaze. I have been told that female tour guides who fail the test, may be passed if they are sufficiently attractive. Overall, it is harder for women to be promoted, to get a high paying job, and to escape the shackles of being a woman in a man's world.
I guess, all up, the point is is that China is remarkably morally conservative, for better or for worse. The boys' club is very, very powerful.
Anyway, aside from this, I've had a great time over the last few days! I have had hot pot with the Zhang family, done some shopping, caught up on homework, and generally been very conscientious. It's very easy to get behind in my Chinese classes, and when I have both Chinese homework and my New Zealand University work, it makes for a heavy course load. Still though, I have plenty of time to do the things I want to do.
The first month has been fantastic, and I am only looking forward to the next three...
Later now!
Andrew
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