Adventures in Chengdu and Xian 在成都和西安探险

Ya'an Bi Feng Xia Base for CCRCGP 

My write-up on this trip is a very overdue, as I left for Chengdu on the 9th of May. I've been busier than usual since then, with my mother and sister coming to visit me in QD, exams, and getting ready to leave. However, this was the most memorable and my favourite experience of my year abroad in China. I was looking forward to this from the moment I touched down in the Middle Kingdom last August, and I finally got to complete my dream of hanging out with giant pandas.

My volunteer card, if you lose it theres a fee of 1000RMB 

Me cleaning up an outdoor enclosure 

Unfortunately, Szechuan had been hit by another Earthquake just a few weeks before we went. Tours to the panda reserves had stopped running. After some sassy research by Will, we were able to find an independent tour guide willing to drive us for over two hours out of Chengdu to reach the Bi Feng Xia base.

We set of at 6am from the Shangri-la (got a free room upgrade, our room had a living room and two bathrooms, ain't nobody got time for that), and I promptly fell asleep. I woke up an hour later, and found the cleanest, clearest air I've breathed in all year. There were Szechuan's snow capped mountains ripping into the sky at the horizon, but all else was flat, vast and green. We got back in the car, where I fell asleep again. 

The Bi Feng Xia base itself is in Ya'an, in the mountains. So the last past of the journey was spent winding around slopes of bamboo forest. When we got to the base itself, we had to wait around for a while as our tour guide had to sort out our IDs and entrance. Following the earthquake, the base stopped letting tour groups and tourists enter, luckily volunteers were still allowed in. I'm glad I didn't have to explain my purpose there to an angry apparatchik. Especially after all the experience I have with Chinese offices, who seem to hold the personal mantra, 'make everything as bothersome and long as possible'. Anyway, after a bit of a wait, we got back in the car and drove a little further to the panda base.

We were greeted and taken to an office where we signed contracts with the panda base, nothing too rigorous, but essentially agreeing to be responsible and follow the instructions of the carers. It costs 700RMB a day to volunteer at the base, but there are more expensive options where you can play with the baby pandas in the panda kindergarten. Uniforms, gloves and lanyards were handed to us, and I'm still surprised they had a suit to fit Will. 

Then the mucky work began. Luckily a panda's diet is so fibrous that their doppings are still basically bamboo. We cleaned an outside enclosure, a couple of indoor enclosures, prepared bamboo, and cleared up the compound (which was the compound for pregnant female pandas). As we were cleaning up one pen, a panda was sitting in the one next door. It nonchalantly watched us clean up its mess, as it sat leaning against the wall, belly out, munching on some bamboo. 

I think our instructor gave us a lot of freedom because we could speak Chinese, which was great. Our instructor had been working there for 4 years, and his favourite was Gongzhu (Princess), a supermum of a panda. He then brought out two platters, one for Fengyi and one for Gongzhu. Pandas spend most of the day eating bamboo and bamboo roots, but the platters contained a special cake, carrots, and apples. Our instructor had trained the pandas to reach out and hold a metal bar when they wanted feeding. Fengyi was very obedient, and would take whatever you gave her calmly, finish eating it, then stick her arm out for more. But because the instructor liked Gongzhu he didn't enforce this rule on her too harshly. Gongzhu also had an obvious preference for sweet foods, after I placed a carrot in her mouth she reached up, withdrew it and tossed it on the floor. After breakfast our chores were over, so we explored the base for a couple of hours until we had to return to feed them lunch. 

This is me feeding Fengyi, the 6 year old panda, her breakfast

Fengyi enjoying her cake

A young panda relaxing in the panda kindergarten.

Regrettably, we had to leave after we fed Fengyi and Gongzhu lunch because it was such a long drive back to Chengdu. However, we did meet some other volunteers (there weren't more than ten other volunteers in the entire base, it was so empty!) who were staying in Ya'an and came back to volunteer each day, of which I was very jealous. I don't think any zoo can really compare to the hands on experience I received at Bi Feng Xia. It was amazing how after such a short amount of time spent interacting with the pandas, you could still recognise out their individual personalities.

The next day, we only had a few hours to look around the city before flying off to Xian, which is a far too small amount of time to look around such a large, exciting and culturally rich city. From all the choice available, we chose to wonder around the People's Park (Renmin Park). Considering it is the main park in Chengdu, it was a lot smaller than I was expecting. And it was packed. Even the pedal boats (some had motors...) in the mini-lake had formed a traffic jam under a bridge. It was one of the nicest parks I've been too, especially in terms of things to do (tea houses, dancing, pedal boats, etc), but it was just too crowded. The most interesting part are the paths lined with advertisements for prospective marriage partners. It seems everyone there is a parent looking on behalf of their children.

Dating: Park Life Style. All the people, so many people, they all go hand in hand...

Then came Xian...

Whoo looking at the Terracotta Warriors! The most extensive guide I've found about visiting the Terracotta warriors can be found here: http://www.tour-beijing.com/blog/shaanxi-travel/xian-travel/how-to-visit-terracotta-army-in-xian/

Which can be summarised into:

• Take bus 306 from Xian Railway Station, a ticket should cost 7yuan. I've heard that there are fake 306 buses and other tourist trap buses who drop you off at their mate's factories. When I got on the 306 I noticed that no one was shouting from the door trying to coerce people into boarding. So avoid anyone trying to push you onto their bus. The Terracotta Warriors are the last stop on the 306, don't get off at Huaqing Hotspring or Qinshihuang's Mausoleum (unless you're into that).  
• Once you reach the site, you will be approached by a number of English speaking Chinese tour guides. If you already know a bit about the Terracotta Warriors, don't bother.
• There are student discounts available, halving the price of a ticket (150yuan for peak times of the year, 120yuan for other times).
• Once you decide you have had enough of the Warriors, you have a very long walk through endless shopping streets and complexes back to the bus stop. The guide warns that toilets in the shopping area are not free, so if you need the bathroom, be sure to go while you are still in the museum site. 
• The best tip from the guide is probably 'don't expect too much'. Which is sad, but true. With the huge numbers of tourists, you are corralled around the pits. You can get a feel for the vastness of Qinshihuang's project, but you don't get the intimacy with the warriors that comes with watching a documentary.  

 In another news, Xian was very, very hot and very, very dry.

In peace nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility, but when the blast of war blows in our ears...

....disguise fair nature with hard favoured rage. 

...then imitate the action of the tiger, stiffen the sinews...

Day two in Xian, Will and I met up with Alice and Leo to cycle several kilometres round the old city wall. After completing the circuit in record time and not dying on a tandem with Will, we head to the Muslim quarter, which was essentially just a long market street.

Alice and Leo mastering the tandem

Wall mural in the Muslim Quarter

Fun fact: I went to at least one buffet a day over this long weekend. Omnomnom.

Chinese Beauty Standards 中国审美

Beauty standards in China is a well discussed topic on the Internet, and this post is by no means attempting to offer a final say in the matter, given cultural perceptions are constantly shifting. However, I hope I can shine some light on a few of China's well entrenched and newly ensconced beauty standards through my own experiences and study, and readers comments and views are welcome!

White Skin 皮肤又白皙又滑

It seems from the very beginning of Chinese history, fair skin has been desirable in women, and men too. The reasoning behind its allure is a bit of a platitude; fair skin represented (and represents) wealth, it implies one does not need to labour outside. The same ideology existed for centuries in Europe, where the aristocracy would powder their faces deathly white for this effect. In China, India, and many other East Asian and South East Asian countries, an endless array of products promise to 'whiten' your skin. It is the same pursuit of paleness. As the sun has come out in Qingdao, so have the umbrellas. These are UV reflecting umbrellas, designed to keep those dastardly rays of sun off you. And then there's the 'facekini', which, let's face it, is just a balaclava. On the flip side, some women in the West give themselves skin cancer through overusing sunbeds in order to get a tan. Excesses exist on both sides of the scale.

A couple of years ago during a home-stay in China, I met a young girl who said to me, "it doesn't matter what my grades are, my skin is very white, so I will be fine." While this shocked me, as most Chinese students I know seem determined to succeed through study and hard work, it did highlight the extent to which the Chinese value fair skin. In fact, a recent term depicting the perfect woman has arisen, a 白富美, literally 'white, rich, and beautiful' lady. If I mentally list all the female Chinese stars I know, they all exhibit the same dewy white complexion. All except Jie Ke Jun Yi, who recently came third in China's version of 'The Voice'. She is probably the first "tanned" star to find favour from the Chinese public. 

Considering the Chinese language, it's no surprise the ideal of pale skin hasn't faded. The idea of a 'white beauty' is embedded in its very words. Take the idiom 冰肌玉骨 bingji yugu, meaning 'ice flesh and jade bones'. Sounds like a stone-hearted, cold-blooded person, right? It actually refers to a beautiful woman, 'jade' and 'ice' both being white and pure. Beauty and fair skin are hard ideas to divorce when they are synonymous. 

Face shape 脸形

Just as Brazil has over 100 different words for shades skin tone in order to describe its multi-ethnic population, China has a vast range of words to describe the shape of a person's face. For example, 烧饼脸 'pancake face' obviously describes someone with a round flattish face, and 苹果脸 'apple face' describes someone with round rosy cheeks. 国字脸 is the Chinese for square face, and is the ideal face shape for a man. 

The ideal features for Chinese women, however, are 瓜子脸 a 'melon seed face' (the English translation would be an oval face, but with a pointed chin) and 鹅蛋脸 a 'goose egg face'. Dating sites even list face shape as important information alongside build, age, etc. 

Fan Bingbing has a 'melon seed face'

Gong Yuanyuan has a 'goose egg face' 

Actress Gongli has a 'goose egg face'

This is perhaps one aspect that has seen traditional characteristics recede. From what I have read and seen in classical literature and artwork, rounder faces seemed to be preferred. However nowadays, if there's a body part you dislike, there's a surgery out there to correct it. Liposuction can be performed on the lower areas of the face to slim down the jaw, to the more extreme option of shaving away the jawbone to give a 'V' shaped face. 

Slim Figures 苗条身材

I've read some blogs complaining about how China's predisposition towards thin women must be a vestige of Western advertising, forcing Chinese women to become unnaturally thin. This is a one-sided approach to a many layered phenomenon. 

Genetically, asian bodies are less able to store fat than, say, western bodies. Also, the average Chinese diet is healthier than those of their western counterparts. I would say the average Chinese woman is just naturally thinner than the average western woman. But, the times they are a-changing. In a couple of decades, it is possible obesity could be a real problem for China, as its swelling urban population gorges itself on Macdonalds and KFC. Being overweight is starting to be an issue for children, as parents and grandparents lavish all their attention and love on one child. However, there is virtually no one here my age who I would consider overweight or obese, by my UK standards. In fact, most of the time, I walk around being jealous of 99% of the girls I see. 

So the issue is perception. After a meet-up with one of my language partners, I said I was going home to eat dinner. She looked at me with surprise, and said, "you eat dinner? But you're so thin!" She then confessed that after going home for Chinese New Year she had gained a kilogram or so. Therefore, when term restarted, she had stopped eating dinner. It was my turn to be shocked. My language partner is by no means fat, or even pudgy. She would have no trouble fitting into a UK size 8. So yes, there is a pressure forcing girls to be thin. 

However, placing the blame for this at the door of Western media is to overlook China's own literary and historical ideals. The Chinese have favoured a wide range of female figures over history, often linked to the preferences of the emperor at the time. The sentiment is summarised in the saying 燕瘦环肥 yanshou huanfei, referring to Empress Zhao Feiyan who was slim (瘦) and Imperial Concubine Yang Huhuan who had a fuller figure (肥). Regardless of their silhouette, both are regarded as historical beauties. Moreover, one of the most important female characters in the Chinese classic Dream of the Red Chamber is famed for being incredibly waif-like. Lin Daiyu 林黛玉 is so painfully thin, that when she is sick and bed-bound, it hurts to lie down because her bones protrude so much. Yet she is still one of Chinese literature's most beautiful women. Lin Daiyu's love rival is Xue Baochai, and each embodies different a facet of Chinese beauty; Daiyu is slender whereas Baochai is shapely. 

Comely figures were not frowned upon, and when I was young I remember being told that if a Chinese person called you 'fat', it was meant as a compliment. But I can't help but feel this notion has turned on its head. My slim language partner represents a new generation of girls who can't stand to be over 50kg. It seems they have forgotten the essence of 燕瘦环肥 yanshou huanfei, that 'beauty comes in all shapes and sizes', and would rather skip dinner. The women I see at my gym never run because they are afraid it will give them muscle, so they just walk. Taking up all the treadmills.  

Those who have studied Chinese culture know that the Chinese are typically very upfront about someone's appearance. Especially weight. I made a trip to one of my favourite clothes shops, and the shop assistant said to me, "Oh, you've put on weight." Which isn't the best way to make your customers feel great about themselves. Anyway, my point is that chinese people don't skirt around the issue of weight, especially parents. Having your appearance, and more acutely, your flaws pointed out to you by your family, friends and even strangers can be hard going. Competition here for jobs and partners is fierce, and society is judging. The question is, whose standards are Chinese society judging by? There is both a precedent for thin ideals, and an influx of thin idols from South Korea and the West.  

Big Eyes and Small Noses 大眼睛，小鼻子

The pursuit of large eyes through double-eyelid surgery (known as blepharoplasty) is perhaps the most controversial, as it is the pursuit of a feature that is unnatural to Chinese and Asian aesthetics, instead of the enhancement of an existing trait (like skin whitening). That said, many Chinese people do naturally have double eyelids. For those unwilling or unable to get the surgery (I've heard in Korea some girls get double eyelid surgery for themselves as a present for graduating high school), there are 'eyelid tapes' available in pharmacies and beauty stores. 

We could approach this issue of larger eyes from psychological perspective, as humans have an innate preference for things with large eyes, small noses and chins (think kittens and babies). These features in women often emulate youth, which in turn signify fertility. But this perspective oversimplifies the matter. Single eyelids were a desirable feature in numerous dynasties, but now you would be hard pressed to name a female celebrity without double-eyelids. The entertainment industry has a full time job suspecting who has and who hasn't had it done. To Westerners, this procedure often seems farcical, like MJ's sudden race change. However, to some Chinese and other East Asian women, that small fold in the skin is a huge deal. It's not about making yourself look Western, but about keeping up with your friends, giving yourself a fighting chance in a job market where you have to attach a photograph to your CV, and living up to the new beauty standards of the modern Asian woman.

 "From having performed double eyelid surgery since 1981, and teaching the surgical techniques to other doctors for the same period, I honestly do not believe that most of the Asian patients are wanting to look like Westerners or their Caucasian friends. Rather, they want to retain their Asian features with the addition of an aesthetically pleasing Asian eyelid crease, just like their Asian friends or siblings." {Dr. W.P.D. Chen, M.D., F.A.C.S.}

Another feature which is highly coveted is a small nose, with a high nose bridge. Words used to describe this type of nose include 'noble' and 'elegant', compared to the relatively flat noses with wide bridges and nostrils that are a common Chinese trait. I've received some atypical compliments during my time here, including "you have a small face" and "your nose is so high". At first I didn't know what to make of those comments, because I didn't understand the desirability behind those features. 

Lucky old Fan Bingbing, owner of large eyes and a prominent nose.

Body Hair

If you really want to watch Western standards imposing themselves on China in action, you should start looking at ladies' body hair. I'm serious. I remember going to Yantai, Shandong, two years ago and getting on a bus. I remember a rather attractive lady got on at the same time as me, we both paid, and then she reached up to grab the rail and - OMFG WHAT IS THAT?! Yes, her armpit was growing a  veritable shrub and her short sleeved top was doing nothing to hide it. I had literally never ever seen armpit hair in my life. Not that I don't have my own, but it is regularly decimated for personal and public reasons. Everyone I know does the same. In the UK, if ladies haven't maintained their own pits, it's polite to cover it up. So seeing not just any old armpit hair, but a such dense crop was a culture shock. I later went to an English corner and raised the topic of body hair, and I was told that if a Chinese person sees a hair-less armpit, then that is considered weird. I like the thought of that lady and I standing on a bus together, both appalled by each other's armpits. 

But Yantai is a small, third-tier city, how does it reflect changing tastes? Currently in Qingdao, a second-tier city of 8-million with a large foreign contingent, I cannot get a wax. But I can buy hair removal devices such as razors and waxing strips, which were very hard to find/impossible to buy in Yantai. There is also much less armpit hair on show. Yet in Beijing, there are a handful of places offering a full scope of waxing services, for foreigners but also for rich Chinese customers. 

It is sensible to conclude, the more interaction with foreigners and foreign habits, the more likely average Chinese women are to adopt Western hair removal practices. Who knows, maybe in ten years time, it will be possible to get a wax in Yantai. 

The Land of Milk and Money 牛奶和金钱之乡

Apologies for the hiatus! During the blogging interlude, I have decided on the topic of my dissertation; milk in China! Those of you who know me well, know that I dislike milk and I have a little bit of a sulk every time a coffee shop charges me extra for ordering a latte with soy milk. But I've found the topic of the growing milk industry in China fascinating; it sums up China's increasing interaction with the world as well as its own growing pains. It is an industry peppered with incidents and scandals, that is, in turn, sharpening the awareness of the Chinese consumer. 

I have just written an article for Qingdao magazine about the issue, as well as a fun 'infographic' for extra facts about the milk industry (click here for the June issue, my article and infographic is on pages 6-9). Alternatively, read below for the unedited article (last paragraph was perhaps too subversive to be published in the mainland). 

Ai Weiwei's map of China, made with over 1000 cans of foreign infant formula

For most part of recorded history, the Chinese relationship with milk can be summarized by the word ‘avoidance’. The History of the Former Han Dynasty, written in 82 AD, tells of the Han princess Liu Jian sent to marry the king of the Wusun tribe. Her poem laments the changes in her lifestyle and longs to return home.

吾家嫁我兮天一方，遠托異國兮烏孫王。

穹廬為室兮旃為牆，以肉為食兮酪為漿。

居常土思兮心內傷，願為黃鵠兮歸故鄉。

My family married me off, to somewhere under the sky.

I moved to far away foreign lands, to the King of the Wusun.

I have a yurt as a room, cloth as my walls.

I have raw meat as food, curled milk as broth.

I often think of my native land, how my heart aches.

I would that I were a yellow swan, to fly back to my home.

The yurt and cloth walls are at odds the Han way of life. Similarly Liu Jian’s poem presents curled milk as antithetical to the typical ‘Han’ diet, where soybeans provided an alternative. Farming cows and drinking milk was seen as barbaric, as the sustenance of nomads. And so, this attitude continued for centuries. 

Only within the past 40 years or so have attitudes begun to change in the wake of globalisation. Milk and dairy began to creep onto breakfast tables and into fridges. Even the founder and chairman of milk behemoth China Modern Dairy, Deng Jiuqiang, admits that, “China has a short history of dairy.” Back in 2006 Premier Wen Jiabao stated, “I have a dream, that every Chinese, especially children, could have 500grams of dairy products every day.”  While Wen's dream might not have been as profound as Martin Luther-King's, his ‘500g Dairy Declaration’ has taken hold. The elder generations may prefer to stick to tofu, but there is no escaping dairy in modern China. Anyone who has been to a Chinese supermarket has heard the furor surrounding the milk aisle, as shop assistants brandish their tubes of yoghurt at you like lactic swords. 

Dairy has swept China. And it is still a growing market, worth $32billion and counting. The average Chinese consumes 2.5 gallons of milk per year, less than a third of the average Japanese or South Korean. Forecasts predict the demand for dairy will continue to grow as urban populations swell and incomes increase. 

However, meeting the demand has proved to be an issue for China’s domestic milk producers. In 2008 the milk supply was not enough to meet the market’s demands. Preoccupied with inflation, the government forced milk producers to maintain artificially low prices. To balance overheads, milk was diluted with water and melamine powder was added to raise the protein content. As a result of the melamine, 6 babies were killed and a further 300,000 hospitalised with kidney problems.

While the melamine scandal of 2008 received widespread international and domestic condemnation, it is not the only scandal to have hit Chinese dairy industry in recent years. The Fuyang Milk Powder Incident in 2004 and the Sanlu Milk Powder Incident in 2008 both caused significant dips in the formula milk market. The Chinese dairy companies Mengniu and Ava Dairy have recalled baby milk powder over fears of high amounts of aflatoxin. Last June, Yili Group, issued a recall after its infant formula was found to contain "unusually high" levels of mercury. These incidents have severely affected consumer confidence in homegrown brands.

In response to the melamine scandal, the government quickly implemented measures to help ensure the safety of domestic milk. Small farms were shut down in favour of group facilities and large farms, where produce can be inspected and monitored more easily. The government even meted out the death penalty to those guilty of manufacturing toxic protein powder.  

Yet the reputation of domestic dairy brands still suffers. Chinese consumers, desperate to purchase safe milk for their children, are turning to imported foreign brands in the hope of ensuring product quality. Foreign brands of infant formula sold on Taobao can fetch over double their original retail price. Evidently, milk powder has become a lucrative market for those with the right foreign connections. This has lead to Hong Kong, the UK, the Netherlands, and Australia imposing restrictions on infant formula as a means to stop mainland Chinese from bulk buying. 

Optimistic Chinese companies are confident that it will not be long before the demand for milk can be met by domestic producers. In 2011 China spent $250million on importing shiploads of cattle from Australia, New Zealand, and Uruguay. Thousands of tonnes of bovine semen were also bought from America. The hope is to scientifically breed a more productive herd, as a Chinese heifer produces less than half the milk of its American cousins.   

If the Chinese dairy industry wants to overcome the suspicion surrounding its quality, it will have to wean itself off the produce from small farms rather than mudslinging at its foreign competitors. Building a large scale, accountable industry will take time, as will casting off the shadow of various scandals. As for the Chinese people, crying over spilt milk does have a purpose. The voice of the Chinese people crying out in complaint is the strongest method to ensure their food safe is for consumption.