ALL NEWS IS GOOD NEWS

Both of my morning classes take place just off an all-purpose room optimistically termed the 休息室 (relaxation room), where one can peruse a variety of Mandarin newspapers as well as the country's official English-language newspaper, the China Daily. Those in my cohort are not yet advanced enough to read much in Chinese newspapers (which, again, have their own style of language), but my classmates Wei Lian and Ding Ding have developed a habit of perusing the China Daily together during the break between our classes (I usually just sulk in the corner and lament my poor classroom performance). By peruse, I really do mean that they just leaf through, as there isn't much to be gleaned from news items like this:

Or hard-hitting editorials like this:

While these are mostly just facile, there are also many that make optimistic pro-China news items out of non-events;

Or misrepresent news items in the interest of the CCP:

In the case of this one I must call attention not only to the inaccurate image that people of Chinese descent the world over are rioting in the streets to bring Taiwan back into the tender arms of the motherland, but to the troublesome linguistic distinction that a country cannot actually secede from another with whom it has no diplomatic ties.

Usually the only time I pay attention to the China Daily is when Wei Lian and Ding Ding find a real zinger of a headline, the kind that causes laughter and light consternation and to which our classmate Han Wei characteristically responds with a sing-song "mei you daoli" (没有道理 - literally - 'lacking in truth'). These articles are not so much outright falsehoods, but gross distortions based on extremely vague statements of supposed fact.

I really feel for the journalists behind these pieces, apparently required to create a headline which has little more to bolster it than the bold-faced quote: "The judicial reform process has been progressing smoothly". The body of the text contains another such quote from the garrulous Chief Justice Xiao:

"The number of death sentences has been gradually decreasing and human rights are being better protected", Xiao told a national work conference on court reform, without elaborating.

Because why would you need to elaborate on such on obvious statement of fact? Progress is progress, Socialism with Chinese Characteristics is the way forward, and all those tricky human rights issues and environmental catastrophes are pretty much going to work themselves out, right?

Of course I have selected only the most extreme examples from the last week, and much of the paper is actually composed of international articles taken from wire sources (but certainly cleared through some national authority) which exhibit no more or less truthiness than those you would find anywhere else. I think the thing that really gets me about the more farcical articles is that I just don't understand on whose behalf they are being produced. They must know that the English speaking readers of the paper are just going to chuckle at the empty places where news should be and go find contraband ways of reading the New York Times online, yet they obviously put a great deal of care into keeping up the appearance of vigilant indoctrination. So I suppose its just another wink, wink, nudge, nudge sort of a deal. You pretend to write the news and we'll pretend to read it.

WANG LEE HOM - 放开你的心 (open up your heart)

Starting at 7:50am and continuing during each and every 10-minute break between classes at IUP, Chinese pop music is played loudly over the school's speakers. I have yet to determine the purpose of this system, but I very much enjoy the insta- life soundtrack it provides. Every few weeks the five or six songs that rotate get replaced by a new set and I must say, someone has fairly decent taste, at least regarding inoffensive, chipper tunes. For several weeks running now, Wang Lee Hom, a massive heartthrob on the mainland (and apparently a star in Ang Lee's Lust: Caution, which is screening here in a massively censored form) has been the darling of the IUP airwaves. This is not one of the songs playing now (there's too much English in it for that), but it is one of my cheesy favorites from the dreamy Mr. Wang. Enjoy

生日快乐?

This year my birthday fell on a Tuesday which also happened to be the first day of the new semester. As much as I agree with my teachers that a glorious entree into the Chinese language is the greatest gift of all, this happenstance didn't exactly lend itself to an opportunity for celebration. Luckily we had Monday off, so I went to explore the city's tea district then met a dozen or so classmates for dinner at Xiangyang Tun, a Cultural Revolution themed restaurant (because who doesn't want to re-live those all-singing, all-dancing, all-persecuting, halcyon days?).
Because it was a Monday night there wasn't much of a show, but we did get a taste of the comedic and acrobatic skills of the proletariat.



We would have missed most of the show anyway, as we had our own Chinese style private room, which was kind of lavish looking and unsurprisingly, rather red. The gilded Buddha in the center was flanked on either side by little cubbies with beds, reflecting, I am sure, the opulence enjoyed by the peasantry in the mid to late 1960s. The food was good, though not spectacular. The meat-eaters liked the ribs, and the herbivores enjoyed the soybeans, greens, and Chinese chives cooked in a clay pot. A surprise hit was the fish stew with cornbread (at right). We opted against sampling the more authentic fare of variously prepared innards, and were all the happier for it. Not that we didn't eat well...


Apparently there was an attempt to bring the evening's performers into the room to sing to me, but there was a miscommunication and they went home early. I was perfectly happy just to be serenaded by all of my classmates.

Bellies filled, we departed for a round of drinks at a bar close to campus. Chinese people don't really go to bars, preferring to drink at restaurants or at home, so the only bars around are those catering to and populated by foreigners. It seems that certain of these foreigners believe they have reason to doubt the quality or authenticity of the beverages on offer at these establishments, thus the reassurance below:

When Jessica and I got home, it was almost midnight, and I responded with the tears and lamentations I thought appropriate upon reaching an age at which unmarried women are referred to in Chinese as the 大龄女青年 (aged youth). Jessica presented me with a gift bag of marvelously weird stickers, notebooks, and pins, and I gibbered unintelligibly about my 学历太高了and 找不到男朋友 problems. The girl is a saint really.

The week staggered by, but the blows of the new semester were softened by all of the thoughtful birthday greetings from friends near and far. My dear mb must come in for extra special commendation, as her care package of handmade birthday wonder was one of the nicest things I've ever received.

On Friday we hosted IUP's weekly happy hour, starting at 7:30pm so the teachers could come if they wanted to, but lasting into the early morning (at around 2:30 we accompanied the last 5 or 6 revelers to our classmate Adam's apartment two floors for an "after-after-party", though I fear that my bragging about this just shows how old I really am). I was nervous, as I always am when hosting a party, that no one would show up, but as it turned out it was a really, really fun time. Hula hoops were employed, hipster music videos were viewed, towers of Yanjing beer were created, and I mixed drinks using my new Olympic mascot shot glass.

This panda, who goes by the name of Jingjing, is my favorite of the five Olympic friendlies depicted in murals and on souvenirs all over town. Jingjing represents sports classified as liliang (meaning physical strength or force) and according to the official mascot website:

Jingjing makes children smile -- and that's why he brings the blessing of happiness wherever he goes. You can see his joy in the charming naivety of his dancing pose and the lovely wave of his black and white fur. As a national treasure and a protected species, pandas are adored by people everywhere.

And that's all fine and good, but I am slightly troubled that Jingjing's "charming naivety and optimism" seem to lend so much to his sharpshooting. If you think about it though, violent pandas are pretty freaking punk rock.

All of which goes to say, you really shouldn't let me get started on pandas. Returning to the party, I must say again that it was terribly fun, and that it felt kind of deliciously naughty speaking all night in English to people that I have to speak Chinese with during the week. Although party photos tend to make both participants and event look less fun that they really are, here are a few.

Leslie and Jason (whose blog is essential reading for those wanting more critical observations on modern China as well as for those just wanting vicarious visits to Siberian tiger reserves).

Laura, working the red on red.

Canaan, who celebrated his birthday on Friday and wore the birthday crown I passed down to him with great manly gusto.

Though I woke up happy this morning in recalling the evening's merriment, I confess that at times I have felt better. It was a grand, lazy day though, with much tea drinking, a bit of internet time-wasting, bustling about the house, and a trip to the city's art district to see a gallery exhibit on the Chinese New Wave. Chinese Dada from the 1980's? I don't know if it can get much cooler than that (but if it can, rest assured that you will hear all about it).

THE PLACE

The Place is a new shopping center in central Beijing which claims to have the largest LED screen in the world and uses it to dramatic effect by streaming scenes of either outer space or undersea. This was the part where we went hurtling towards the sun and the whole plaza was bathed in warm orange light.

Rather than inspiring childish wonder, China generally causes me raise my fists to the sky in a silent cry of "what is this fresh hell?" Thus, I felt I owed it to my poor brain and nervous system to visit The Place and be amused. Also, I totally wanted to go hang out at Starbucks.

The undersea part was very soothing. I especially liked when the life-size humpback whale went sailing above, although the Asian mermaid kind of creeped me out.

The Chinese name means something like "World of Heaven's Greatest Goods". I don't know what marketing genius decided to give it an English name that makes anyone who speaks of it sound like a simpleton in an Abbot & Costello sketch.

Here are some 30-second clips of the streaming footage. Yes, that is me giggling in the background and saying aiya, zhen zaogao (oh no, how terrible!) as the asteroid came rushing towards us.





It was really cool. Thanks to my trend-scouting pops for hearing about it first!

BABY, IT'S COLD INSIDE

On account of what appears to be a country-wide decree passed down from on high by cold-hearted bureaucrats, no one in China turns the heat on until the 15th of November. It just isn't done. Schools seem to receive a slight exemption -- at Tsinghua the heat was turned on on the 1st of the month, putting an end to the strange sight of teachers conducting class wearing parkas. You can of course buy a little space heater, and some apartments have A/C that can also blow heat, but they aren't very effective, especially in my big room with a wall of floor to ceiling windows. It is the radiators that do the real work, and it is those that we have no control over. And lest you think this is evidence of a greener China, guess how most of those radiators are going to be fueled come next Thursday? Wait for it..............

COAL!

While I am nervous about the incineration and aspiration of even more fossil fuels, I still think the policy is too, too cruel. I had to buy an extra blanket and still usually sleep in my hat and several layers of clothing. I bundle up to study but still shiver and have to get up and run around or think of an errand that will give me an excuse to go up and down our nine flights of stairs.

In a strange way, I can appreciate the unifying nature of the policy, which becomes a shared experience for everyone, as well as another way in which we conceive of time as divided by the senses. When I think back to remember events of this year I will probably categorize them by pre- and post-heat weeks (and possibly also by when I am finally forced to abandon my skirts for more [sigh] practical trousers). In India, the monsoon is a killer and a huge pain in the ass, but it also has a strong place in collective and individual memory. Every Indian writer I've ever come across has waxed poetic about the romance of the rains, of being drenched with strangers; or being cozy inside, playing games, cooking, or reading as the torrents fall.

While far from a natural phenomenon, I wonder if the National Starting of the Radiators holds a similar place in Chinese hearts. Do lovers write to each other, "my heart is suddenly aflame like the middle of November"? Are more relationships begun in the first half of the month than the second on account of the practical needs for warmth?

I don't know, but I've decided to pretend that my birthday falls two days later than it actually does, just so I can wake up to all that lovely radiating heat and imagine that it is all for me.

MY LIFE IN PICTURES

It occurs to me that I have been writing too many strange stories about offensive hoodies and human douches and not posting enough pictures lately. Thus, I present a gallery from recent weeks.

First are some pictures from Xi'an of some of the teachers hamming it up for the camera.

The second from the left is my teacher Li laoshi, and the fellow on the right is Ding laoshi.

I can't remember this teacher's name, but she is widely agreed to be one of the most adorable things any of us students have ever laid eyes upon.
Cai laoshi with Ding laoshi. Ding laoshi has a strong penchant for stripes and is rumored to have excellent connections in the CCP. He teaches my Talks on Chinese Culture class, using a textbook which discusses things like traditional marriage and Chinese fiscal policy and which has the characters in the dialogues (necessary because spoken Chinese is very different from written Chinese) say things to each other like: "Your knowledge of changes in the post-war Chinese monetary system is impressive! This conversation has greatly enhanced my understanding". I'm grateful that my classmate Wei Lian studies economics at MIT. You should see how excited he gets when we talk about national reserve funds and foreign exchange. Actually, it looks kind of like this:

Anna, Wang Yang, Joel, Richard, and Wei Lian (at bottom) in Xi'an.

Anna and Wang Yang looked a little different at the Halloween Party Leslie hosted the weekend before last.

Leslie, at left, went as a rapper, but was identified as J. Lo by one of our teachers. Wang Yang, at center, was a chengyu, a traditional Chinese 4-character expression, this one meaning "as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns" (you can't see her horn, but it was impressive). Anna was Robin Hood. They made quite the gang.

Canaan was in a costume instantly recognizable to anyone who has lived in China, the curbside bike mechanic. These dudes set up shop all over the place (I pass about 3 during my 15 minute commute) and they are always smoking and wearing grubby button-up shirts and jackets. They'll also tighten up a loose chain for about 28 cents.

Me, Leslie, and Peter. I didn't have much in the way of materials with which to cobble together a costume so I made use of the hat I bought in Xi'an and went as a Russian spy. Peter was a shudaizi, or bookworm, but for him, that isn't really a costume.

Ding Ding was attempting to costume himself as an Ivy League student, but we all just told him he looked like a newsie. I don't think Loafers even noticed, but if he had I'm certain he would have taken it as tribute rather than offense.

This past weekend, Leslie, Canaan, Anna and I took advantage of the crisp, clear day and moderately clean post-rain air and rode our bikes out to the Summer Palace. Pretty amazing that I live in a big, filthy city in one of the most polluted countries in the world and yet it only takes about 45 minutes to ride from my house to here:

Here is a close-up of the actual Summer Palace complex.

I had really wanted to take out a boat again and my classmates indulged me. Good thing too, as all that peddling kept us nice and toasty. Here are Leslie and Canaan looking at the island in the center of Kunming Lake.

This lovely bridge connects it to the land, and you can get a pretty good echo from going through the archways.

As we were walking back around the lake to get to our bikes an old man starting singing, quite beautifully. I took a little video but I don't know if you can see him in it. Sorry it's so shaky but I was trying to figure out if I could zoom in (nope).



Anyhow, it was a fine day. It made me feel just as fresh and rejuvenated as if I had just ......................................... oh, forget about it.

I JUST GOT CHASED BY DOUCHE AT THE MALL!

So it's Friday afternoon here and since our regular classes were canceled today Jessica and I thought it would be a good day to take a taxi out to Carrefour to buy some foreign products (mostly just cheese and gin). Walking through an underground mall area to get to the entrance we encountered a promotional display and several pretty ladies in uniforms giving out samples and information. We couldn't tell what the product was, aside from noting that its English name was "Gayo", but I spied two figures costumed as what appeared to be giant white lotion dispensers about 30 feet away. Jessica thought they were just inflated parachute-material displays, but I was certain they were interacting, and sure enough, as we got closer, we saw that they were trying, as much as their immobility-inducing Michelin Man-esque suits would allow them, to chest-butt each other. Obviously, I was delighted by this, and stopped to chuckle and point. Big mistake. Turning around, one of the figures spotted me and started towards me with all the bumbling grace of an astronaut in low gravity. I, naturally, started backing away. The bottle picked up speed and began bounding towards me. I turned, giggling nervously and began to walk away. The bottle continued its pursuit. Jessica had moved away from me a little on realizing that I had become a target. I kept walking, looking back to realize that the bottle was closing in, and was now close enough for me to decipher the elegant cursive on its abdomen reading: "GAYO Feminine Wash".

But why was the douche still pursuing me? I didn't understand. I don't mind a good-natured chest-butt now and then, but would I be required to buy douche afterwards? I started to run, and easily created a safe distance between us. Once we rounded a corner Jessica and I nearly collapsed in hysterics, and I barely managed to choke out "I just got chased by douche", over and over again.

So yeah, maybe I shouldn't have given the punchline away so quickly, but it was quite the way to start an afternoon.