From Tomorrow 从明天起...

With 2013 fast approaching (or upon us, depending on when you read this), now is the time to reflect on the happenings of the past year and set your resolutions for the year ahead. A time to change. 

But, what is it about the changing of the date that makes us think that we can suddenly tackle our entrenched flaws? Some people feel a New Year is a new leaf, that it wipes out the misdeeds of the past and makes it easier to begin again. And everyone around is doing it too; ‘next year I will go to the gym’, ‘next year I will be punctual’, or my own personal foible, ‘next year I will not procrastinate’. And so on and so on. 

Such lists are full of aspirations to become the athletic, organised, and efficient self we feel we could be if we ever put in the effort. Yet, I also feel that setting a New Year’s Resolution gives you a few more days to wallow in justified indolence before the clock strikes midnight. It’s okay if you eat that entire left over chocolate cake now, because you’ll totally work it off when your New Year exercise workout begins. 

Rare is a person who notices their own shortcomings and decides to change it, right then and there. It’s far easier to say, in the New Year, or next week, or tomorrow. Tomorrow is a wonderful place where everything gets done, and of course, you’re also more toned with brighter complexion and a new willpower to avoid tiramisu. 

So before you make your resolutions, if you haven’t already, spare a moment and read this poem by Haizi 海子. A very simplistic poem, it too speaks of wanting to reform oneself, to not overcomplicate things, and to prioritise only what matters in life.

Facing the Sea, with Spring Blossoms

From tomorrow, I will be a happy person.

I will feed the horse, chop the wood, and travel around the world.

From tomorrow, I will care about food and vegetables.

I will have a house facing the sea, and in Spring’s warmth the blossoms will open. 

From tomorrow, I will write to every one of my family,

I will tell them I am happy.

As that carefree lightning bolt told me,

I will tell everyone.

I will give every river and every mountain a fond name.

Strangers, I also wish you happiness,

I wish you a glittering future,

I wish you wedded bliss with your sweetheart,

I wish that in this mortal life you obtain happiness.

I only wish to face the sea, where in Spring’s warmth the blossoms will open.

Perhaps the saddest element of this poem is that Haizi two months after penning it, he committed suicide by lying down on train tracks at the age of 25. As with many artists, recognition and fame was only achieved after his death. He is now regarded as one of the most important post cultural revolution poets. As I was given a compilation of Haizi’s prolific poetry for my birthday, one of my resolutions is to translate them for you.  

Beer's Virtue Benefit Liver 啤酒有益于肝脏 ?

Now, I'm no expert on alcohol, and luckily I wasn't relying on the Qingdao drinks industry to illuminate the depths of my ignorance. Especially after seeing 'beer's virtue benefits liver' on a sign in the Qingdao beer museum, I think I should probably disregard most information picked up on my travels. 

The first stop on my alcohol adventure was Chateau Huadong-Parry (华东百利酒庄), which the ticket boldly claims is 'China's no.1 European style wine chateau', founded in 1985 by Michael Parry. Commenting on the scenery in Winter would be a tad unfair, as the grapevines were bare it made for rather bleak viewing, but I can imagine in Summer the nearby hills would be covered in row upon row of endless green. But I can comment on the "chateau" itself. 

*Disclaimer: Huadong-Parry Chateau does not come with real sparkles.

Upon entering the chateau, there is a compulsory video watching session, 10 minutes of pure Chinese gold. Complete with its own tacky American voice-over and CGI Disney style story book structure, the video aims to introduce the history and integrity of the Huadong-Parry brand, taking on the mantle of European wine traditions, winning glory for China, etc, etc. The video is saturated with the gaudy, tasteless interior design that Chinese people associate with European grandeur. Unfortunately, you leave the video room and find the chateau was the setting for the filming, except probably quite a few years ago, as the garish grape covered wallpaper is already stained and peeling. 

The wine tasting room was another decorating debacle, as well as being unwelcomingly cold. Fair enough, they probably weren't expecting guests and so hadn't bothered with the heating. One commendable feature of this room were the large glass windows, that let you look out towards the swans swimming in the pond, or the out-of-place grecian statues, or perhaps the dominating bust of Michael Parry himself. 

For the Y50 ticket, I got to have a go at wine tasting. Yes, I sat there with a wine glass in my hand, swirling and sniffing a 2007 red like I actually had a clue about wines. Obviously, I didn't really have much opinion on this part. I can only relay the well-informed views of Will's father, who said they lacked distinction but would be perfectly acceptable as house wines, and definitely shouldn't cost over £15 a bottle. Which is quite amusing when considering the introductory video, which made it sound like none other than Jesus had created this wine, nay, miracle. 

We also got a tour of the wine cellar's collection of impressive oak barrels, and some other things too, I forget. Of course, the final stop was the wine shop. The only thing that seemed to affect the price of the wine was the decoration of the bottle and case. The more showy and ornate, the more you pay. You can visualise a Chinese businessman slowly presenting the beautiful case, delicately opening it, then withdrawing the prized embellished bottle from inside, to the oohs and aahs of all around the table. It's all an exercise to flaunt your wealth. The most expensive bottle we saw was over Y5000, a price that could buy you wine from some of Europe's best Chateaus. According to one of our teachers, most Chinese don't even like the taste of wine, and will add lemonade to la Fete. Well, I'd have to agree with them on that point, although I'd probably pass up a good wine for an orange juice so that it wouldn't be wasted on me.  

What kind of blog post about Qingdao's drinks industry would this be if I failed to mention the legend that is Tsingtao Beer. Internationally, Tsingtao is Qingdao's claim to fame, and it is affectionally known by the locals as Qingpi (as shortened form of 青岛啤酒 Qingdao Pijiu). So, a trip to the Qingdao Beer museum was in order. 

Today, Tsingtao beer production takes place in Laoshan, and in various sites all over China. Tsingtaos's original 1903 factory has been converted into what is now the Tsingtao Beer Museum. Despite its age, the museum site is still very large, as it was expanded with each new generation. Because Tsingtao is such a prominent brand in China and abroad, it attracts large groups of domestic tourists. Be warned. 

Thematic water feature - 干杯!

Apparently beer comes from outer space, from which it was bequeathed to Qingdao in China's Shandong province.   

There was a very interesting collection of advertising posters, which traced the history and ownership of the brewery, with some posters even featuring swastikas while the company had German ties in the 1930s. The above was my particular favourite. 
  

Something I think my father will be interested in.

All in all, the Museum provides information on much more than just Tsingtao beer with a huge range of exhibits, and opportunities to drink the beer itself. A highlight was the 'drunk simulator', where an entire room is set on a tilt, so you end up unable to stand and clinging to the wall in disorientation. Naturally, theres a camera, so those outside can watch you struggle to walk across the room in a straight line. Hilarious. 

PUNtonghua 文字游戏

Chinese is viewed as an inaccessible language by most people, as Scandinavia and The World explains:

Source: http://satwcomic.com/it-s-all-greek-to-me

Once you manage to overcome mandarin's tones, measure words, literary references, and tens of thousands of characters that reveal little about their pronunciation, you still have to face the truth that every province speaks a dialect that sounds as different from mandarin as English is to French. Luckily mandarin, called Putonghua (the common speech), can get you around most places well enough and is the standard language of China.

'Please speak Mandarin, then it's easier for all of us'

How do I face the formidable task of tackling this beast of a language? By finding the funnies. Or things that help me remember characters, for example, the word for 'monopolize' is 垄断 (longduan). The first character is 'dragon' on top of 'earth', which makes me think of Smaug, hoarding his piled up treasure. However, it's highly impractical to come up with a mnemonic for every character.

Here's some Chinese you might not even realise you speak. Next time you say the word 'manly', you may be saying 蛮力 (mán lì), which means 'brute force'. Is somebody you know staying up all night partying? Awww yeah, or in fact, 熬夜 (aó yè), which translates as 'to stay up all night'. If O2 is thinking of entering the Chinese market, it may want to consider rebranding itself, as 呕吐 (oŭ tù) means 'to vomit'.

If you've ever listened to Chinese people speaking, you might have thought you heard the infamous, racially exclusive 'N word' repeated several times. What is actually being said is 那个 (nei ge), meaning 'that'. People end up repeating it if they can't remember the name of the thing they are trying to say, the effect being 'nei ge nei ge nei ge'. You know you're learning Chinese properly if you end up saying this and don't feel uncomfortable.

As a student of Chinese, I end up reading scores of articles related to learning Chinese. In most of those articles, the only example people seem to provide to demonstrate tones is 'ma' - 妈 (mother, first tone), 马 (horse, third tone), 麻 (hemp, second tone). But to be honest, these are pretty hard to get confused; mother is always said as a compound 妈妈, and horse should have a measure word, e.g., 一匹马. And 麻 is pretty vague as a stand alone character, lending itself to compounds such as flax, anaesthetic, sesame, and even pins and needles. My personal favourite tonal confusions are 手机 (shŏu jī) and 首级 (shŏu jí), the first being 'mobile phone', and the latter 'severed head'. Another sinister mix-up is 迟到 (chí dào), meaning 'to be late', so imagine your teacher's surprise when you announce "对不起老师，我持刀(chí dāo)了" (I'm sorry, Sir, I'm wielding a knife). My classmate recommends caution when shopping for mirrors, as the reflective surface, 镜子 (jìng zi), may be accidentally spoken as sperm, 精子 (jīng zĭ).

Before I studied it, I tended to believe most of the interesting facts regarding Chinese that circulate around. I was disappointed to learn that many of these are simply misnomers borne from a lack of understanding. Take for example, a fact provided by Lisa Simpson, who claimed, "the Chinese word for 'crisis' is the same as 'opportunity'". It is a nice idea, but a quick trip to the dictionary reveals there is no such word, only two separate words 机会 (jihui opportunity) and 危机 (weiji crisis). My guess is that someone saw both words contain the character 机 and assumed they were the same word. The shared character 机 is a bit of a compound whore, and can be found in anything from 'airport' to 'mechanic' to my humble 'soy milk maker'.

Another thing that bothered me before learning Mandarin was what 'ching chang chong' actually meant. In fact, it's bothered me ever since primary school, when it was used as the standard response to telling someone I was mixed race. Even my sixth-form maths teacher greeted me with this phrase when I told her my degree choice. I could go off on a rant about how East Asian people put up with racism passed off as socially acceptable humour, but instead, I'm going to try to salvage this phrase that non-Chinese speakers seem to think encapsulates the Chinese language. In modern pinyin (today's prevalent form of Chinese romanisation) there is no such word as 'ching', the closest being 'qing'. So, mission 'translate qing chang chong' begins.

情场 (qingchang) affairs of the heart, 情场冲 a rush of affairs of the heart.
清唱 (qingchang) to sing opera, so 清唱虫 the opera singing worm.
清偿 (qingchang) to pay a debt in full, 清偿重 to pay off a debt again.
青长虫 green long worm (where 'long worm' is actually spoken phrase for 'snake'), green snake.

I think this is the best I can come up with without taking too many liberties. Although getting a Chinese person to understand the above phrases would still be difficult; they sound as ridiculous in Chinese as they do in English. Thus proving that 'ching chang chong' is the refrain of the culturally illiterate.

'Stinky' Chang?

And finally, I don't know how many people wondered what Cho Chang, of Harry Potter fame, means. I did. Let's take Chang to be 常, a common Chinese surname, rather than 娼 meaning prostitute. For a country of 1.3 billion people, it has surprisingly few surnames, so much so that the hoi polloi are referred to as 'the old one hundred surnames' (老百姓). So, Chang 常 it is. Leaving us with Cho as her first name, yet another sound that doesn't actually exist in pinyin, so it could be read as 'chou' ('ou' as in 'low'), 'chu' ('u' as in 'soon') or 'qu' ('u' as in... this isn't dipthong used in English, it's like 'ew' but with more 'oo'). It is usual for a Chinese person to have two characters comprising a first name, although there are plenty of famous Chinese with a one character name: Yao Ming, Liu Xiang, Ang Lee.

Chou would be quite an unfortunate name, as it could be any of the following; 仇, 愁, 丑, 臭: enemy, anxiety, hideous, and stinky, respectively. The best of the bunch is definitely 绸, meaning silk. The interpretations rise exponentially when you look up 'chu' and 'qu'. Perhaps the reason why I find Cho's name so distasteful is because it smacks of the 'ching chang chong' factor. That is to say, Rowling created a Chinese character for her books, and created a name that she thought sounded like Chinese, without consideration of traditional naming customs or sounds that actually exist in Chinese. Seeing that Harry Potter has a huge Chinese fan-base, it would be interesting to know what Cho Chang has been translated into, considering that her name is essentially a foreign construct. If I find out, I'll let you know.

Laoshan's Mountain Water 去崂山游山玩水

If the title of this post baffles you or you are worried about the degeneration of my English skills, fear not. 'Mountain water' is in fact a literal translation of the ever economical Chinese word for landscape, 山水 (pronounced 'shanshui'). Hence, landscape paintings are called 山水画, drawing of mountain and water. I also used a Chinese idiom, 游山玩水, which means to go on a scenic tour, and literally means 'to roam the mountains and play in the waters'. Not that I played in the water, as it was -2'C. Even so, it was a beautiful clear day, and we got to see some fantastic views. The landscape invokes images of traditional Chinese watercolour painting, and it's not hard to see where the old artists got their inspiration from. 

The scenic area of Laoshan is just under one hour East of downtown Qingdao, and is China's tallest coastal mountain, at 1,132.7m. We were stopped from entering in our taxi, and had to buy tickets to then continue on in a minibus. The tickets weren't cheap either, ¥100 for a senior and ¥70 for a student. Laoshan is huge, being the major mountain range of the province, so I don't understand how they managed to seal off all roads to tourists and force them to take minibuses. 

As for tourism on the mountain itself, Laoshan boasts terraces, temples, a cable car, and the Laoshan springs. Our aim was to catch a leisurely ride on the cable car to glide over the tree tops. However, the wind was too strong so the cable car was forced to shut. We also managed to get a little lost, as none of the maps actually pinpoint their location, although through guesswork we muddled along just fine. We also caught a dodgy people carrier with a loose door back to the first carpark because we couldn't find the minibus drop-off point. 

  

Now I guess I'll leave you with a few mountain based chengyu;

青山绿水 (qing shan lü shui) green hills and clean waters.

湖光山色 (hu guang shan se) beautiful lake and mountain landscape.

依山傍水 (yi shan pang shui) mountains on one side, water on the other.

背山临水 (bei shan lin shui) with one's back to the mountain, facing the water. This is a very important principle in Chinese culture, and houses built in these locations will fetch much higher prices. I believe it's to do with the energy flow between them, and not just the nice scenery. 

Qingdao Travels 在青岛旅游

Last month in November, we were visited by some friends from Beijing. The great thing about showing people around somewhere you are already familiar with is that through their eyes you get to see it for the first time again, and whole discover new aspects that you'd completely overlooked. We we also lucky to catch the last throes of Autumn, enjoying a long weekend of crisp blue skies and pleasant temperatures.

Qingdao Train Station

A day of glorious sunshine and healthy air quality. Will and I were mobbed outside the station by a gang of map sellers while waiting for our friends to arrive. When it became apparent that we were not going to buy maps, they hung around anyway to ask Will his height and if he was a basketball player. Except all questions were directed to me and I became a spokesperson of sorts. Ah well, practice is practice.

Now these photographs might leave you feeling confused; I thought Holly was in China and it is Winter there? Correct and correct. Although the pictures may look warm and Australia-esque, it was still under 10'C. But ain't nothing gonna stop a man with determination and a pair of speedoes. Even in mid-November, men in just shorts saw fit to play a game of beach volleyball. Rather them than me.  

Discerning readers may recognise the pagoda at the end of the pier, and if you did, well done, because it looks like every other pagoda in China to me. Except that it's on the end of a pier. It is, in fact, the small pagoda icon that appears on every bottle of Tsingtao beer. Despite being a popular tourist attraction, it was thankfully lacking the herds of tourists complete with flag-waving megaphone-blaring tour guides. As it happens, our Beijing friends managed to escape from the Beijing hubbub and unwind listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the base of the pier.

Subverting the State? Me? Never. 

Next stop on our quick tour of Qingdao's old town was the Naval Museum. The map was extremely useful, revealing that currently over 80% of the site is under construction. The museum of artefacts was more an exhibition of mildew and rising damp, but that didn't stop intrepid explorers like us, oh no. Because outside was a collection of tanks, planes, fighter jets, a submarine, two warships and piles of unexploded missiles that I was reluctant to approach. To reach the warships, you had to cross over a rickety bridge of wooden planks that gave slightly underfoot, and through the gaps you could see the ocean swirling far below. It was like being in a Final Destination instalment. The ship itself was... shippy. When I learn know something intelligent about ships/naval warfare/the Chinese navy, I'll let you know. But for now that's the best description you're going to get. At least I know I won't be pursuing a job with the Royal Navy.

How do you relax after all this sea-based excitement? Head to Daxue lu (University Road), perhaps the most chilled street in Qingdao. Both sides of the road are lined with mature plane trees, and colonial architecture sits beside traditional Chinese buildings. My favourite feature has to be the charming coffee shops. One has to be entered through a tunnel of bamboo, and inside is decorated like a beach hut, with a pair of cats cuddling up to customers. Another boats a glass roof, which allows you to fully enjoy the towering plane trees that filter in dappled light onto the shop floor. The coffee is pretty good too.

Ice Mocha-licious

Petty Romance and Korean Romances

Another perk of working for UK based Asian film distributor, Terracotta Films, was watching this hidden gem of a film: Petty Romance. I read another blog focusing on the inadequacies of the film's name, but that doesn't even cover it. Terracotta's founder and director is (a great guy) committed to bringing Asian film to UK audiences, but this film was such a marketing conundrum for him and his team. I'm guessing most people reading this haven't watched the film, but if I say to you Petty Romance, the name doesn't really sell itself. Not only that, but it doesn't tell you anything about the characters, the motifs, or even the film's ambience. Whereas, the best thing about Chen Kai Ge's 2011 offering of 'Caught in the Web' was its name. Seriously. Now I've mentioned it, forget it, it's not worth remembering.

So, overlooking the mediocrity of Petty Romance as a title, I'm here to sell this film to you. The leading characters' lives converge when they are forced together by money troubles; Da-Rim has just been fired from her job as a sex columnist for extravagant lies and a hyperactive imagination. Soon after, during an argument with her brother she swears she will move out of his flat. On the other hand, Jung-Bae is an unsuccessful manga artist, although he lacks no skill in the drawing department, his plot-lines fail to impress. His father was also an artist, who only achieved posthumous recognition. In order to save his father's portrait of his mother, Jung-Bae has to find a huge sum of money to buy it off his corrupt uncle.

This is where a main element of the story comes in; manga. More importantly, an international manga competition where the winners could bag enough money to, say, buy a portrait AND buy your own flat. Of course this isn't just any old manga competition, it's adult manga. Desperate to win the prize-money, Jung-Bae advertises for a story writer. This is where over-imaginative sex columnist Da-Rim steps in to save the day. Except not really. Because she's actually still a virgin. And lying about most of her work experience. She's also demanding, a bit of a drama queen, and gets on Jung-Bae's nerves.

However, they actually balance out each others problems and realise that only together they can create a manga capable of winning. Manga is woven artfully into the film by having several brief scenes with animation, giving the film a playful and unconventional edge. Not only this, but it strips back the conventions and tropes of the romance genre; we see the leading lady poor a bottle of water on herself before knocking on Jung-Bae's door for pity, even though it's not raining. Hell, we even see her in a toilet scene, which has to be a first for a female Korean protagonist, whose only bodily function seems to be exuding beauty. Romance fans, don't worry, you've still got some kissing-in-the-rain scenes you can squeal at.

Then obviously you're going to have the romantic complication. I'm not going to give it away, but while watching the film with my boyfriend, he turned to me with a worried look on his face and said, "are they going to get together at the end?". I watched this film with my mother, and we had a riot. I was confident enough to show it to my boyfriend, and it even made him have a little chuckle.

I'm constantly in awe of how Korean cinema can invent and reinvent romance, and Petty Romance no exception. I was never bored; I laughed, I cringed, I sighed. This film was so hard to market because it had so many layers, a romance, a comedy, an adult manga. Every time I watch a Hollywood romance, be it a romantic comedy, or regular a weepy one, my cinematic stomach is just not satisfied (excluding 50 First Dates and She's The Man). Demand more from your Romances. If you feel the same way, I have compiled a list below of my favourite Korean romance films for you to get your teeth into. Happy romancing!

My Sassy Girl - a classic, and a good starting place for people new to Korean film.
A Millionaire's First Love - Your classic Korean tragedy, prepare the tissues, it's gonna get messy...
My Girl and I - high school tragic romance in beautiful korean countryside, with the added dimension of the Grandfather's story.
Daisy - a more grown-up tragic love triangle, an interpol agent chasing a master assassin, when an innocent girl gets caught in the middle. You'll need tissues again.
200 Pounds Beauty - although there are ongoing debates about the overall message of the film, as the protagonist gets full body plastic surgery, I found it very entertaining.
Crazy First Love - example of a well named film. I liked it.
Lost and Found - great film poking fun at Korean romance stereotypes, in a similar way to Petty Romance, so you should probably watch the above films to get some of the jokes.
Please teach me English - characters are refreshingly normal, mundane even, the leading male is an assistant in a department store's shoe section. Which makes the dramatic romantic parts all the more touching!

Assorted Ramblings

This is a cabbage bigger than my head. It weighs 3kg. It also costs 30p.

Things I could do with such cheap and hefty cabbages;

• Door stops
• Free weights
• Sew the leaves together to make a statement dress
• Foam roller 
• Use the leaves to keep rain off my head
• If I am ever trapped in my apartment I will sew the leaves together, comme Icarus, and fly to freedom
• Hurl them at people wearing Uggs, diamante, and kitten heels. 

*

Occasionally, when I have the misfortune to hear Chinese pop music, I have the strange feeling that I have heard the song before. I would like to put this down to a natural affinity with Chinese. But that would be a lie. I realised that in fact it was the tune I recognised, and that many songs, children's rhymes and even Christmas carols have become Chinese pop songs. Where Aqua's Butterfly translates well, I was just plain creeped out by God Bless Ye Merry Gentlemen's rendering into mandopop. 

Then there is the somewhat frightening CCTV music channel, that pumps out epic ballads like 我爱你中国 (I love you, China) and 幸福中国 (happy China). I remain unconverted.  

*

I wish that someone told me that text books are all taunting liars and prepared me for the horrible truth that is reality. I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about. All those model conversations in your language books? They lie. 

Learning how to ask for directions seemed simple enough at the time, only hampered by my own inability with the cardinal directions. "Excuse me, where is the library?" I'd ask the friendly passerby, "Straight ahead, then turn left", the amiable reply would come. OR SO YOU THINK.

I was looking for a particular room in my university campus, and decided to ask for help. I asked two different people, both were dead-ends. And not metaphorical dead-ends. Oh ho ho ho ho no. Two separate, different people pointed me down routes that were literal cul-de-sacs; one was blocked up by dusty boxes and was clearly in disuse, the other by A LARGE METAL GRATE. 

Of course, at this point, you may say, maybe you misunderstood their instructions? Maybe I did, but they also pointed. If I managed to misinterpret the 'point' I will throw my arms up in resignation and admit to being the worst linguist that ever was or will be. As far as I'm aware, it is not Chinese custom to point one way and say, "definitely do not go that way". Because that wouldn't be answering the question. 

Almost as helpful as the above advice are supermarket assistants. Imagine a huge store, innumerable aisles and signs you can't read. You approach one assistant and ask, "excuse me, where is the...". Then comes the reply "往前走" (walk straight on). Straight on doesn't really take you anywhere, because you are on the central aisle from which all the other aisles diverge. Of course, this could be allegorical advice, as in 'continue on your journey, earnest shopper, and you will soon find the item you seek'. Yeah, I will. Without your help. 

Animal encounters 遇到动物

The late Ivan (right) and Odin (left)

My first experience of purchasing pets in China didn't end well. As I learned later, buying animals cheaply comes at the expense of the animal's health; they have received substandard care and little veterinary attention. Not long after purchase these animals can die suddenly. In particular, the small dogs, kittens and rabbits bought at markets are notoriously short-lived. When I went to the Qingdao Beer Festival, a large noisy affair, I saw a man peddling rabbits on the roadside. I have never seen more pitiful, terrified animals in my life. And they were selling for stupidly cheap prices. It struck me that they were no more than the goldfish that can be won at funfairs. You expect them to die quickly. A temporary plaything.

At my nearest bus stop, it is possible to buy pet birds, which are sold next to sweet potatoes. Just in case you decide to buy a bird before you catch your bus. Handy.

Perhaps an even stranger experience was the attempt to visit a 'pet market' with a classmate. We were both interested in seeing some cats, and if possible, giving them a cheeky cuddle. It turns out that 'pet market' was the name of a dingy shop specialising in dogs, and by dogs I mean, the tiny shrill dogs that double up as accessories. Naturally the shop owner was curious as to why two foreigners had just entered his establishment, and in my haste to depart without causing embarrassment to the owner, I answered that we were more interested in cats. "What kind of cats?" he asked. "Scottish folds." I replied (yes, I can say that in Chinese. Degree win). "I have a friend who breeds them," he answered, "I'll give him a call." Next thing we know, we spend the next 10 minutes waiting in his dim shop, surrounded by the sound of yapping, breathing in the perfume of urea, to be picked up by the shop owner's friend. A while later, a car pulls up, and we get driven to a cat pet-shop. Inside, a ginger Persian (called 加菲猫, literally a 'Garfield' cat) sauntered around the shop floor. Asleep on a box was a stunning blue British short hair tomcat. The cat pet-shop owner informed us that he was his breeding tom, who had recently fathered a litter of kittens. But the kittens weren't on the premises, they were being raised at home. Who can resist a batch of kittens??? So we hopped back in this man's car and drove to his house. When we reached his compound, he told us to wait in the car with his wife, while he fetched a kitten. And this we did. He handed the tiny blue bundle of joy to us through the rear window of the car. Somehow something as innocent as looking at kittens felt like a drugs transaction. It was probably because of the shaded windows. And secret location. And kind of because we felt like hostages in the car. But anyway, we totally fell in love the kitten, and what was originally meant to be a cat reconnaissance mission became a kitten shopping trip. Oh well.

And Lo! Loki was purchased. 

Even more recently, I became the owner of a samoyed puppy. After a 2 and a half hour journey, my flatmate and I finally arrived at the assigned bus stop, on a dusty and deserted road, ready to meet the breeder. What we didn't expect is that she would arrive walking, arms full of white fur. She had brought along three A-DOR-ABLE puppies for us to choose from. So, on the street behind a bus stop, we met little Heimdall.

AARRRGH PUPPEHS

A Chinese Halloween

I'm not a particular Halloween fan (it's all about Christmas, I've been listening to carols since the start of October. No lie.), but this October I had a refreshingly novel experience. So Halloween sort of snuck up on me this year, as all the usual precursors were absent; no frilly children's costumes in the shops, a lack of fake cobwebs, a deficiency of scary movie adverts, and so on. The only omen was an abundance of small pumpkins in the supermarket. And it was much more pleasant this way. 

In fact, to find evidence of the existence of Halloween, you have to go out of your way to search for it. Dressed up as Minnie Mouse, I headed to the hidden Carnegies - a well known expat bar - for a special Halloween themed night. The decorations were great (as far as I could tell, it was very dark), and we ate our meal by candlelight. We overlooked the dance-floor, and had a clear view of the various costumes; nurses, surgeons, cowgirls, cats, vampires, Anonymous and even some elaborately dressed Victorians. They all made for a curious rendition of Michael Jackson's Thriller.  

For the fated night of Halloween itself, I owe a 'thank you' to my amazing 同学, for inviting me to her Halloween dinner party. And thus, I spent the evening with a group of dentists, which may be some people's idea of scary. When I was younger, Halloween was an inventive way of acquiring sweets. What I didn't realise is how fun it is to be inventive with food; my classmate made scary eyeballs to put in the cocktails by stuffing a pistachio into a longan. Less inventive were the sliced pigs ears, which were actually sliced pigs ears. 

土豆鬼 - mashed potato ghosts

Eyeballs for cocktails, made from longan with pistachios inside

Pumpkin hopefuls for the pumpkin carving competition

My conclusion is that Western festivals don't come to you here, you need to put in the effort and make the atmosphere yourself. It is nice not to be saturated with cheap, tacky goods, and I think much more satisfying to enjoy the fruits of your labour. Christmas 2012, here I come...

Don't mention the War 别谈到日本

As I mentioned in a previous post, there is a considerable amount of unresolved tension between Japan and China. Anyone who has visited chinaSMACK can testify to the vitriol that a minority of Chinese netizens can spew regarding anything Japanese. Under the anonymity of the internet, many people feel able to speak more loosely. However, 反日 (fanri, or anti-Japan) is an accepted and unchallenged topic of conversation. Last year, I stayed with a perfectly hospitable, friendly and normal family over the Summer holidays, but even on the first day, the daughter said to me offhandedly and casually that she hates the Japanese. My current landlord told me he would never rent any property of his to a Japanese. Recently, I had a disagreement with a teacher, let's call him Mr. Zhang, that really appalled me. 

I hadn't prepared all of the text, so I thought I could delay him a little, and seeing as he was looking at the map of China on the wall, I asked why China laid claim to the entire ocean below it right up to the shores of Malaysia. He somehow moved the topic onto the Japanese and spent the next hour ranting. And not the regular 'I don't like the Japanese' rants. He said he would never teach a Japanese person, because 'I teach students, not pigs or dogs', which he said in both English and Chinese. At first we treated it like a normal lesson. We've had other classes with other teachers where we've had discussions on the Diaoyu Islands that were perfectly reasonable, so we offered up other points of view, but remained neutral over the issue. Every time we tried to debate a point he would shout us down saying we were '没有道理' (being unreasonable or illogical), or deceived by the Japanese (through our university education!!), or that we didn't understand China. Another student eventually walked out, while I sat in silence. 

The next day, we went to the office and asked to switch teachers, not because he disliked the Japanese, but because as a teacher wasn't able to distance himself from the topic. He had upset too many of us to able to continue learning comfortably from him. We were then visited by the head of department and another teacher, who tried to convince us 

1. We didn't understand what he was saying
2. We misinterpreted what he was saying
3. It was our fault, for raising the topic of the Diaoyu Islands and for not understanding Mr. Zhang's temperament. 
4. Mr. Zhang can't be racist because the majority of people think this way

Firstly, I understood quite clearly what he was saying, especially as he repeated himself and he stood up to write words like 'deceptive' on the board. Secondly, calling people 'dogs' or 'pigs' is a common insult in China, and in those cases it is metaphorical (I hope), but saying 'I teach students, not pigs or dogs' denotes that this was not a metaphor. I would concede the third point had I actually raised the topic of the Diaoyu Islands. I'm not even going to go into the fourth point. AAARRRGHH. 

At this point, I feel the need to defend myself, as I understand that many Chinese have lasting personal reasons to feel embittered towards the Japanese. My mother's family were also directly affected by the Imperial Japanese expansion during the Second World War and before. Chinese resentment toward the Japanese mainly springs from their actions during this era. But personal grievance and violent Nationalism shouldn't have to be linked.

James Kynge, author of China Shakes the World, sees Chinese Nationalism as a child of the CCP that it is no longer able to control. From the mid-1990s the Chinese government altered its education system to what the Japanese see as an instigation of “drives to drum up patriotism”, reinforcing Japan as the enemy. As a result the anti-Japanese riots of 2005 became more than the government could control. They were unable to stop the crowds attacking Japanese property and embassies for fear that they would face a backlash for being pro-Japanese, which immediately equates to anti-Chinese. Consequently, the people of Japan saw “images of [Chinese] policemen standing by while demonstrators hurled stones at Japanese diplomatic offices”.

This is very much a shadow of what the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs calls the History Issue, which the media and education on both sides does not appear to be soothing. Chinese sentiment revolves around the lack of war reparations, a lack of a sufficient apology and Japanese aggression, especially over incidents like Nanjing. A CCP writer acknowledged that Japanese aid, grants and loans are “virtually non-existent” in China’s media, and newspapers deliberately tap into anti-Japanese feelings in order to improve their sales. The effects of the education which hones in on the Japanese atrocities of war has bred a youth which when asked what they associate with Japan, 83.9% respond “the Nanking Massacre”. Faced with such strong feelings from what is dubbed ‘the restless youth’, would the CCP leadership be allowed to back down in a crisis with Japan? Would it be pressured to continue by the will of the almost dangerously patriotic nation that it had a hand in making?

Likewise, the Japanese education system has been accused of neglecting or distorting the events of World War II, a cause of much aggravation in South Korea and China. Tokyo maintains that there was only textbook in question, and it was created by an independent publisher, and was only picked up by 0.1% of Japanese middle schools. In response to the outrage in China and South Korea, joint historical research groups were proposed, but the damage from the textbooks was already too deep. The textbooks combined with Prime Minister Koizumi’s Yasukuni visits sparked anti-Japanese demonstrations and hackers on the Prime Ministers site.

China saw Japan as glorifying its Second World War acts. Whether or not this is true, there is simply not the emphasis on the atrocities committed as there is in China, or South Korea, and as such some Japanese do not have the same understanding of events. Hence, Japan is frustrated by Chinese references to the past. The Chinese calls for an apology causes dismay in Tokyo, when they feel that they have apologised explicitly and repeatedly from 1972; “in the Japan-China joint communiqué of September 1972, in the 1978 treaty, and in the Japan-China joint declaration of 1998” and in numerous political speeches. However, after some such apologies, visits would be made to the Yasukuni shrine, where a number of Class A war criminal's names are listed. In visiting the shrine, it is felt that the Japanese honour the atrocities committed and their apologies are thus invalidated.

Such a gulf of misunderstanding between these two populations, perpetuated by their narratives of history and constant media portrayal of one another, takes a long time to heal. In the case of Mr. Zhang, Japan is difficult topic for him, one which time has not changed, a Chinese friend used the word 老顽固 (old and stubborn) to describe him. Understandably, this topic is particularly sensitive for the older generations, the ones who experienced occupation first-hand. So when Mr. Zhang said that we didn't understand China, he had a point. There is a difference between studying China's history in a formal, detached setting, from understanding the pain of humiliation, invasion and occupation. This pain and anger lives on in China's restless youth. 

I titled this post after the famous quotation from Fawlty Towers, but I mean it sincerely and with sadness, because unlike in Europe, the War is not forgiven, and is an ongoing issue in the form of the Diaoyu Islands. Raise the topic of the Japanese and the War, and you may find a can of worms that might be best left closed. Having said that, China is such a vast and populous country; among its citizens are those who are pertinacious in their prejudice, and on the other end of the spectrum, those who enjoy Japanese music, language and popular culture. 

River Crabs and the Chinese Internet

The majority of what we hear about the Internet in China paints a gloomy picture. Censorship, online police and the planned introduction of real-name registration for microblogs; it’s an Orwellian nightmare. Despite the image of repression, there are a surprising number of ways in which the online Chinese are evading the censors and making themselves heard. Recent events could not be more relevant in showing the huge impact social media can have on social movements and revolutions. It’s no wonder the Chinese government are uncomfortable about the freedom of discussion that the internet provides.

A Chinese Mitten Crab

The internet has given Chinese netizens a taste of free speech, which they will now resolutely defend. In response to the proposed built-in censor ‘Green-Dam Youth Escort’ software of 2009, tens of thousands of China’s online population signed up to proxy servers that allow them to ‘climb’ the firewall. At the last moment, the government pulled the plug on the Green Dam.

A recent glitch in China’s ‘Great Firewall’ allowed netizens access to the normally forbidden social network Google+, which is banned alongside Facebook and Twitter. Swarming towards the leader of the free world, they began a movement to occupy President Obama’s Google+ account. The fissure was sealed up within five days, but the ‘Occupy Obama’ movement continues. His page has become a forum for thoughts that the censored Chinese people want to express; some call for Western style democracy, some the release of China’s victims of conscience, others want tougher reproof of China’s human right’s record.

However there are ways around the firewall that do not need proxy servers or VPNs, that rely on the nuances and complexity of the Chinese language, as well as a bit of humour. If you search expletives or forbidden topics, an error page or forbidden content page will appear. Now, imagine a language where you can find a homophone for anything. Although it sounds the same, it will have a completely different character with an entirely different meaning. When Hu Jintao introduced the ‘Harmonious Society’ (héxié shèhuì) ideology in 2004, its clauses came to justify the growing internet exclusion of topics that ‘undermine social stability’. Before long, it became synonymous with censorship. Under the erratic eye of the censors, ‘harmonisation’ (héxié) became a taboo topic. Chinese netizens circumvented this blockage with a pun, ‘harmonisation’ was substituted with ‘river crab’ (héxiè). Thus the lowly Chinese Mitten Crab arose as the champion in the fight against censorship.

Similar puns have emerged, one former expletive is so popular that there are now cuddly toys of its new rendering as ‘grass mud horse’, an ancient mythical animal resembling an alpaca. As fast and as complex as the firewall is, Chinese netizens have developed a constantly mobile vocabulary ready to adapt to it. With an online population of 300 million and counting, and a language of over 80,000 characters, censorship will be a constant game of catch-up for the government from here on.

Cao ni ma 'grass mud horse' fluffy toys

Split personality rocks: Diaoyu vs Senkaku

I realise that to some, this title may sound like a review of Street Fighter and psychological disorders. Well it's not. Currently it's one of the biggest stories in Chinese media, and raising the issue with a Chinese or Japanese person may hit a nerve.

The Diaoyu (Chinese name) or Senkaku (Japanese name) Islands sit in disputed waters and are claimed by China, Japan and Taiwan. The recent spat of violent protests over the Islands was the culmination of a tense year,  brought about by a patriotic Japanese citizen planting the Japanese flag on the Islands on the 18th of August. This is one of a number of points of particular tension to Japan and China. While not mentioned on the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs site, their Chinese counterpart has labelled seven so called “Sensitive Issues”. These sore spots for the Chinese are currently listed as the issues of History, Taiwan, the Diaoyu Islands, Japanese-American Security Co-operation, War reparations, Japanese chemical weapons discarded in China and Guanghualiao*.

While on the surface these 'islands' are little more than uninhabited rocks, the seabed on which they sit may be the site of rich natural resources. At the same time as fighting for the potential resources, it is also a bigger battle ground for pride and nationalism, from which neither side looks willing to step down. A former Prime Minister of Japan, Hatoyama, pledged a further $7 million to strengthen its footing on the small island of Okinotori, which China argues cannot be part of Japan’s Exclusive Economic Zone. For the Chinese, and South Koreans, Japanese ownership of the territory would impede their “fleet’s freedom of navigation along some key routes”. Yet these rocks have national prestige embedded within them, and the increased activity of both countries’ navies around such areas leads to an increase in tension and a higher possibility of military accidents.

What is evident in the region is China’s much more active navy, that has popped up near Guam, in Japanese waters and near American aircraft carriers. Despite apologising for their “error”, these are most likely displays of Chinese naval capabilities. Yet why would a country that claims to only have an army for internal security need a navy? This question has unnerved officials in Tokyo, and there are considerations to amend their post war constitution to allow for a Japanese force instead of solely relying on the USA. While the Chinese navy might be a form of its acceptance as a world superpower by taking to the stage at sea, it also has people ominously considering the navy preparation for its designs on disputed territories, like the Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands. 

The Chinese state that their “sovereignty over these islands is fully proven by history and is legally well-founded”, as the Chinese were the first to document the existence of the Islands. Whereas the Japanese state “[the islands] showed no trace of having been under the control of China… [the] Senkaku Islands have continuously remained as an integral part of the Nansei Shoto Islands which are the territory of Japan”. I read an interesting blog on the NY Times, researching the Japanese National Archive's Diplomatic Records Office for documents regarding the Diaoyu/Senkaku Islands (read here). It essentially concluded that the Islands were seized by Japan in 1895 as 'war booty', while the Japanese say they legally own the Islands under the Japan-US Security Defence Treaty. The Japanese Prime Minister further inflamed Chinese nationalists by proposing to 'purchase' the islands. 

As of yet, there has been no detente over the issue, but at least the protests that erupted all over China have discontinued. Japanese property and embassies were stoned, Japanese products were (and in many places, still are) boycotted, and in one extreme case, the Chinese owner of a Japanese car was viciously struck by a brick to the head in a frenzy of anti-Japan feeling. Fortunately, other members of the crowd thought this was too much, and he was eventually given help, although he remains in a coma from the attack.

Both sides seem unable to back down, each sending vessels into the disputed waters in a 'to-me-to-you' fashion. As this persists, there will be no visible end to the discord. 

*An issue based around a youth hostel that was located in Kyoto, and in 1950 it was purchased by the Taiwanese, the debate circles around whether the property it  belongs to China or Taiwan, as China states that it is not just a lawsuit but about the legal rights of the Chinese government.

Starbucks: Comparing the Market

One of the reasons for my excitement at living in China for a year was the relative cost of food and products. Living it large in China equates to living ordinarily back home. In the UK, how much would you expect to spend on a meal out with your friends: £20 to £15 a head?

The rising cost of eating out has led to a growth in the UK's coffee shop sector, as people turn to the local Nero as a meeting place, Starbucks as a study buddy, or Costa as a quick pick-me-up. This makes sense in the UK, where a the price of a meal dwarfs a petty latte. However, what has surprised me is that, unlike everything else, the price of a coffee in China does not convert. 

After a few days in Qingdao, I felt a small pang of nostalgia when I spied a Starbacks sign hidden in Sunshine Plaza. I recounted the times I had sat in the squishy Starbucks sofas, catching up with old friends, cradling a warm chai tea latte. Its familiarity drew me in, and I found myself inside ordering a 香草拿铁. When buying a cappuccino in Starbucks back home, you can expect to pay over £3. So I wasn't too surprised when the friendly man behind the counter asked me for Y33 (roughly £3.30); goaded on by my thirst for caffeine I parted with my money.

I collected my drink and turned to look for a sofa to nest in, but found only hard seats. It didn't particularly matter, as I was in a rush, and it was one of those annoyingly humid days where if I had sat on an armchair, I would have slid off it in a trail of my own perspiration. It appears that Starbucks' expansion strategy in China has been to shaft the sofas and comfy corners, occupy outlets with bigger floor space for longer tables with more seating. Instead of a casual meeting place, Starbucks in China has reformed itself as an actual meeting place. Starbucks is drawing in the market of young urban professionals who are happy to spend Y30 for the association with the brand. 

After I bought and consumed my 星巴克 (Chinese for Starbucks) did I realise how incredibly disproportionately priced coffee is to everything else in China. Below I am listing things one can buy for the price of a Starbucks (or less). (I will continue to update this list when I find more ridiculous comparisons.)

• As previously mentioned, two pet terrapins, coming in at Y30.

• A grocery shop, including; 4 peaches, 12 figs, 2 aubergines, 4 tomatoes, 7 peppers, 1kg of oats and 1kg of black rice, costing one Starbucks exactly.

• A pair of black culottes, Y30.

• 22 red bean buns from a 24hr convenience shop for Y33 (not that I've eaten 33 buns in one go)

• Two large crabs (for eating, not for pets this time) Y25

• A big bowl of tom-yum ramen, topped with fish, muscles, squid and king prawns, is only Y29

Just like in the UK, the coffee market in China is growing, but clearly for different reasons. Firstly, the prevalence of coffee culture in a Chinese city tends to imply it has a large foreign contingent. For example, Qingdao is abound with Korean coffee shops (where you can buy sweet potato latte, trust me, it's delicious) catering to the city's 200,000 strong Korean population. Secondly, coffee can exhibit one's wealth; wealth which Qingdao is by no means short of. Despite being only a second-tier city, Qingdao can boast numerous high performance car outlets (don't make me name car brands, you know it'll be embarrassing for both of us). Purchasing a cup of coffee insinuates a certain kind of lifestyle. A fusion of the above demonstrates the change that has been happening in China for the past 20 years; growing affluence and increasing contact with foreign cultures. Naturally this leads to a transformation of tastes, as coffee culture draws in ever more of China's young population.