There are 6 “major wars” and 27 smaller-scale ongoing conflicts in the world.

Source: wikipedia

I know my blog gives our Chinese friends a hard time, but that’s only because my expectations were so high. The image they presented was so great. How could I, literally, not expect the world of them? 5000 years, right? I’m not sure if my cynicism comes from a disappointment in them or myself. Or maybe it just comes from time. In any case, I want to take the opportunity to highlight some of the characteristics I really admire about the people here.

Approachable. In the States, it’s easy to feel that approaching someone to ask for help (friends and strangers alike) is bothersome to them. In China, never. I ask for more favors here than I have in my entire life living in the States.

Generous. I don’t think this is true for the young people, but those born before 1978 are definitely more than generous with their time and money. Chinese get a bad wrap for really caring about money and talking about money all the time. Well, yeah, they care about it, and talk about it, but when they have it, they spend it freely. They might count pennies, but they certainly don’t pinch them, especially when it comes to friends, or even friends of friends.

Even tempered. Yeah, you can see Chinese people trading blows, but it’s much more common to hear them trading verbal assaults. Maybe the best part of being in China is that you can argue (over anything) and it’s not just a pre-text for brawling. People here argue healthily and aren’t knocking each other out over a 1 second stare, which is more than I can say for us in the States where, sometimes it feels like we just skip the argument and go straight to punching.

Good hosts. You ask for a burger, and you’ll get a banquet. You’d be hard pressed to find a people that put on a better show than the Chinese. Fuck Bush, these guys can shock and awe with the best of ‘em. Yeah, their style is over the top and can, at times, feel a little overbearing, but to be doted on once in a while isn’t all bad.

Helpful. If you need something, the Chinese are there for you. Whether they know you or not is irrelevant. Whether it’s buying a cell phone, finding your way on the street, getting your Visa, etc., they’re always willing to drop what they are doing and work relentlessly on your behalf. Besides that, the Chinese are extremely capable people and no matter the obstacle, can always get from A to B.

Note: I had “friendly” on this list, but I had to take it off, much to my own surprise. My explanation of Chinese friendliness was too involved. Positive characteristics shouldn’t have to be qualified or explained in depth. After some consideration it seemed too far a stretch. After spending so much time with the Chinese, I don’t think they are all that friendly, actually. “Sociable” more accurately describes them.

It’s not all it cracked up to be. Actually, it’s been a little disappointing, but there are moments I’m thankful for spending so much time memorizing those funky characters and making sounds with my tongue that, honestly, sound downright sinful (o3!!! ah1!! oo4!!!). Last night was one of those times. There is nothing like the feeling that comes with dominating an argument in someone else’s language. I totally handed this guy his ass in my funky mix of Mandarin and faux local dialect. He retreated like he was a Georgian or something.

Can’t believe McCain’s choice for VP.

There is one question I’m not sure, no matter how long I stay here, can be answered. That is: “Do Chinese people not know or just not care?”. Everyday I find myself asking this question, on average, 20 times. In the States, there are people who simply don’t care, and they will tell you that much: “I don’t give a fuck”. But they know. Here, it’s a mystery. I’ll give you an example from just now.

It’s Friday afternoon. I’m sitting in Starbucks doing some work. This lady (older, not pretty <– important information), whom I knew from previous encounters here (she talked to me after hearing me speak Chinese on my cell phone), sits down next to me and starts chatting away. She doesn’t ask if I am busy or if she can sit next to me or even how I’ve been lately. She just starts talking with about as much consciousness for me as I have for the keyboard on which I am currently typing. So while her words are tapping against my face, I try at least to be polite and give a few gestures that I am busy. They are too subtle, I guess. There is zero concept of nuance in China, I swear. I’m out of my work groove. My armpits are sweating angst.

She sees a little white girl sitting nearby. Of course she must comment on how beautiful she is. And then wave and say hello to her. The little girl, 11 or 12 probably, looks petrified. She seems not to pay any mind to the look on the little girl’s face, which clearly says, “stay away, you crazy bitch”. I tell her it’s not polite and she shouldn’t do that to foreigners. She tells me it’s so friendly, actually. I ask her if she is being “so friendly” to other Chinese people. I didn’t see her waving at any of the other people seated here. I tell her that little girl gets the same look and wave and hello from between twenty and thirty “friendly” people a day, and to her, it is, if not rude, then at least tiresome. If anything, that girl wants to feel apart of the environment, not the center of it. She persists. The girl’s Dad is using the restroom, so this is an opportunity for her to get up and seat herself next to the girl and talk to her. Oh, did I mention, she doesn’t speak English? The girl is terrified.

The Father, a big American dude, comes back and stands imposingly over the woman. She seems to get his less subtle gesture and stands up from the chair he was sitting before. The guy looks at me; we roll our eyes, more in synch than synchronized swimmers in the Olympics. “Your daughter?”, the woman asks. A nod and she replies with, “Very beautiful”. A nod and a perfunctory smile.

She returns. “See, they like it, right or wrong?”, she says full of confidence, ignorance.

“I don’t know. I don’t care.”

I’m preparing to throw this lady out the window.

http://www.vimeo.com/1616061

“This shits about to go down like Bear Stearns”.

“I like my bankroll, bro, keep your fuckin’ work-life balance”

I was just at the bank exchanging cash. The girl slides the money under the window and I feel something hard at the bottom of my pile of cash. I count my money and finally, her security card that she plugs into the mouse and allows her to log on to the bank’s system. Ahhhh…decisions decisions. She did call me a “chink” when I came to her window. Who’s the “chink” now, my little scrumptious moon pie? ‘What would Jesus do?’, I thought for a moment, only to be interrupted by my more pragmatic side: ‘Would they even give Jesus a Visa?’. Me Mum did teach me the Golden Rule, but does it apply in a Godless country?

“…by not maintaining his dignity, frequently descending into the arenas to fight with the gladiators and doing other degrading things…”

For the life of me, I could never understand why some expats only hang out with their likes when living in a foreign country. It was simply beyond my reach. Why come to the other side of the world to eat the same food, listen to the same music, with the same people, in the same setting, etc.? But alas, one night, for one moment, the feeling arrived. It didn’t stay for long, but it left an indelible impression on me. It’s priceless.

My first year or so here, I was all about assimilating and understanding. I got that down and now I’m rocking out like a rowdy expat (with the knowledge and language skills of a local, of course)…and I’m loving it. Forget the Olympics, THIS is life in China:

1. “I’m still with the hostess…i’m crazy about her…she is so beautiful…what are you doing?”

2. “I have to tell you about her….she is wildddddddddd…luckily she has a boyfriend.”

The Chinese are so cute. Their hatred of the Japanese is almost comical and their idea that democracy means we have direct influence over military/policy decisions is lovely, if not idealistic.

I’ve told some of you about the time when I went to a friend’s office for lunch. Her manager joined us and, as we sat down and I shoveled the first grain of rice into my mouth, he asked me, “What would you do if we attacked Taiwan?”. All this before a “hello”. “We’d crush you!!!”, naturally, was my response. He was perplexed. He couldn’t understand why I, the guy with no special executive or legislative powers sitting across from him, would command the world’s most powerful military to attack them.

And whenever something Japanese related comes up, you can see their yellow skin turn red with anger - “You know we hate the Japanese, right?”, the response so common that it must be taught in schools. It’s fun to see them all worked up, but mostly it’s annoying because their is a conspicuous absence of logic in their ideas. On Thursday, I sat down for a bowl of noodles during lunchtime. The guy sitting next to me started chatting and said he worked for a computer game company. He said there are a lot of gaming companies in the States. I said I wasn’t too familiar with the industry, but yeah, probably the States and Japan have the most. “You know I hate Japan, right?”. Look at that hate. Your noodles are getting cold, bro!

I wasn’t in the mood for it, so I cut him off. “Look, I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it. If it wasn’t for us, you’d be eating ramen right now and saying ‘konichiwa’.” I caught him off guard, but he wasn’t gonna retreat that easily. After all, this was a chance for us to alter Asia-Pacific policy. “What do you think of Taiwan?”.

Check please.

Watching Olympic coverage in China is definitely a learning experience for me. It’s like watching a communist Bill O’Reilly - spin without regard for logic. The twist they put on everything has given me some new insights into the mind of the Chinese, though.

One of the biggest discussions is surrounding Jamaica’s dominance in sprinting this year. The Chinese are completely baffled by it. They can’t get their head around it, so they resort to the race issue, pondering whether the Jamaicans are “racially superior” than the rest of us. When someone brings up that, until now, the Americans dominated sprinting, someone else pops in with, “but they are likely from the same ancestors” (i.e. black people). Sigh*. Then they bring up the argument for fast twitch muscles in the legs of Jamaicans. I just wonder if the Chinese have fast twitch muscles in their arms that make them so dominate in ping pong? And what about the white guy (also a 2004 Gold medalist)  who came in second in the 400m last night? And how about those white Belgium women who finished first in one of the 4×100 relay heats last night? Must be something in the chocolate.

Maybe the biggest issue is about the manufacturing of athletes by the Chinese government and whether or not it’s good for the athletes and sports in general. I can think of one reason they are talking about this - a lot of the athletes, after winning gold, are interviewed, and can barely speak. No emotion. Just “yes”, “it’s not bad”, and that’s all. They look petrified, and that’s after winning the gold. Dronified. Anyway, some of the Chinese seem to think that in all countries, the athletes are “selected by body type” and then sent away to camps like they are here. In an interview with Dominique Dawes (’96 USA Gold medal gymnast), a reporter was baffled when she said she “chose” to become a gymnast. “You chose?”.

Then they pondered whether or not they should “quit” playing soccer because they haven’t won. The Brit being interviewed gave the best response available: “to even ask that question, shows the problem. You don’t play sports to win, you play to participate. If only the winners played, there would only be three or four countries playing soccer. I’m from England, we haven’t won anything since ‘67, but it’s the most popular sport in our country.”

And in typical Chinese spin fashion, they had to say, “If it weren’t for Michael Phelps, this Olympics would be a disaster for the United States.” All I’ve got to say is this: As I write this, the United States has won 99 medals, the most of any country competing.

“I’m proud of my Mexican heritage, but I’m an American. It’s the best country in the world. They call it the land of opportunity, and it is. Maybe if some other kid watches this, he can do the same.”

Henry Cejudo, Olympic freestyle 55-kilogram wrestling Gold medalist

Right now! There is a woman giving her boyfriend/husband a hair trim in Starbucks, and throwing the hair on the floor. Right now!

China: I can’t make this shit up

I watched “You don’t Mess with the Zohan” last night. Adam Sandler was hilarious. In case you haven’t seen it, Sandler plays an Israeli counter-terrorism specialist named Zohan who fakes his own death to fulfill his dream of going to the US and becoming a hair stylist. I had the English subtitles on because I like a visual component to the dialogue. They weren’t very accurate, but they were funny, mixing English and Chinese pinyin.

A couple of examples.

Here Zohan tells his parents that he would like to quit his career in the military and move to the States to style hair. “Cut hair” in Chinese is “Jian toufa”. The subtitle reads, “I would like to jian toufa”. Classic.

Sandler makes it to NYC and meets a guy who helps him find an apartment. He invites Zohan to dinner, then Zohan has sex with his Mother. The guy walks in on them. When finished, the Mother says, “I can’t get up”. “Can’t get up” in Chinese is “qi bu lai”. The subtitle reads, “I had qi bu lai”. Yet another classic.

You might’ve noticed my pre-occupation with Putin. That’s not because he is a good guy, but because he’s a smart guy, and one we can learn a lot from. He is a master of statecraft and has handed us (the USA) our asses several times over the course of his rule. Here’s a great quote on him from David Remnick of The New Yorker:

“Putin’s is a new and subtler game…to deal with him will require statecraft of a kind that has proved well beyond the capacities of our current practitioners.”

All the Chinese here are saying that Phelps won 8 golds because of the “Water Cube”…..

Right, not because of his training or talent….

Can they, just once, not take credit for something?

I think the appropriate response to this assertion is either:

Water is water no matter what building it is housed in

or

Australians designed the “Water Cube”, not Chinese.

To which their response would be:

“But the water is Chinese and our migrant workers built it.”

To which I would say

“That water was made clean by GE technology. Okay, the migrant workers did build it. Let’s give them one of Phelps’ gold medals. Wait, where are they? Oh, they’ve all been kicked out of Beijing.”

I’ve lived in China for a while and I still don’t know what the Chinese believe in*. I don’t know what their principles are. Well, besides being “traditional”, what they stand for, what their core values are, has thus far escaped me. This past weekend, while continuing my search, one woman gave me some insights.

Me: Do you have a religion?

Her: No, but in my heart I have many strong beliefs.

Me: For example?

Her: The Olympics.

mei banfa

*Well, I think I do, but I hope I’m wrong.

I went for dinner with a couple of friends on Saturday night. The restaurant, by Chinese standards, is a nice one. It’s a place I have been with people for business.

Our table seats four people. I am seated next to the wall. We’re halfway through the meal. Hair in the vegetables. Mei banfa. We’re almost finished, the DJ alerts me to three roaches climbing on the wall next to me. I call the waitress over and say, “Look, roaches.” Her response?

A big smile and “Don’t worry, they don’t bite”.

Mei banfa.

No effort to kill them, to offer us a new table, to offer an apology, to comp our meal, to even show a shred of regret or embarrassment.

Instead, she makes me seem to be the one out of place. My Chinese counterparts tried to calm me down, because they said if I yell at her nothing will happen. If I say nothing, nothing will happen. So I should save my energy. What recourse do we have then? “We’ll never come here again!!”, they said. That’s funny, I thought, because every place we go, we end up saying that.

Mei banfa.