Saturday, April 21, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
Ich bin ein Beijinger
Sitting in the stark black and white office of the German operated internet company Jabgo, it is hard not to notice the reality behind the stereotypes that we often use. The office bleeds efficiency. Within the single room, computers block sight lines so that the employees can see nothing but their own work; at the same time, the boss has a large desk from which he can attend to everyone no matter where they are sitting. The only sound is the persistent tapping of keys and the occasional phone ring. It's not an unhappy office, but it serves only one purpose: work.
Compare this German workspace with the chinese setting of Hutong school. There, five of us work in one office. We each have our own desk with plenty of space, and interdesk communication is often enjoyable and encouraged. When I suggested removing a wall to allow the back room (barely more than a closet) to be more included, Jan started trying to arrange it immediately. People at Hutong school frequently leave the office to sit in the sun in the courtyard, walk down the street for a bottle of water, or just to chat. Lunch breaks last from 12:30 to 2, or whenever you feel like returning to work. It is not an inefficient workplace, but it is certainly more relaxed, and definitely more in synch with Beijing life.
I have learned more about cultural stereotypes in Beijing in the last two weeks than I ever knew before. The dutch always seem a bit embarrassed by their nationality; the Germans have no sense of humor; the French are inefficient; and surprisingly, Americans are romantic. Jews are a novelty in China, and in the last 3 days I have explained my religion several times to curious Chinese who were shocked to discover that I was a walking talking Jew.
In Beijing, we are all expats. We all speak English to each other, and we are all united as outsiders in the Chinese world. Perhaps this is the reason that we harp on cultural stereotypes and even embrace them as symbols of who we are. Most of the time, I just think of myself as a foreigner in China, but sometimes its good to be the one who calls fooball "soccer" and impatiently waits for my Big Mac and fries. It's also fun to crush people's stereotypes by having less of an appetite for my Big Mac than my French friends.
The stereotypes are reassuring, and an endless source of amusement--especially when someone discovers that they have always held a false belief about someone else. We will never be chinese here, but we can at least live like the stereotype of Hutong life: relaxing and enjoying life as it comes.
Compare this German workspace with the chinese setting of Hutong school. There, five of us work in one office. We each have our own desk with plenty of space, and interdesk communication is often enjoyable and encouraged. When I suggested removing a wall to allow the back room (barely more than a closet) to be more included, Jan started trying to arrange it immediately. People at Hutong school frequently leave the office to sit in the sun in the courtyard, walk down the street for a bottle of water, or just to chat. Lunch breaks last from 12:30 to 2, or whenever you feel like returning to work. It is not an inefficient workplace, but it is certainly more relaxed, and definitely more in synch with Beijing life.
I have learned more about cultural stereotypes in Beijing in the last two weeks than I ever knew before. The dutch always seem a bit embarrassed by their nationality; the Germans have no sense of humor; the French are inefficient; and surprisingly, Americans are romantic. Jews are a novelty in China, and in the last 3 days I have explained my religion several times to curious Chinese who were shocked to discover that I was a walking talking Jew.
In Beijing, we are all expats. We all speak English to each other, and we are all united as outsiders in the Chinese world. Perhaps this is the reason that we harp on cultural stereotypes and even embrace them as symbols of who we are. Most of the time, I just think of myself as a foreigner in China, but sometimes its good to be the one who calls fooball "soccer" and impatiently waits for my Big Mac and fries. It's also fun to crush people's stereotypes by having less of an appetite for my Big Mac than my French friends.
The stereotypes are reassuring, and an endless source of amusement--especially when someone discovers that they have always held a false belief about someone else. We will never be chinese here, but we can at least live like the stereotype of Hutong life: relaxing and enjoying life as it comes.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Lingualisme
The best characteristic of the Beijing is that it is not America. Not only do the locals speak Chinese, but the expats come from all over the world. 
Hutong school is a particularly good example of the reality of the internationality of this city. Last night I went out with two Poles, an Italian, an Australian, two French, a Slovakian and a Filipino. We also met up with a few Chinese friends.
The inevitable result of the convergence of nationalities is a language juggling act. Desert last night included a rousing discussion of the Chinese phrase 马马虎虎 mamahuhu:
French Girl1: "mamahuhu...it's horse horse monkey monkey?"
Me: "Horse Horse Tiger Tiger."
French Girl2: "and it means?"
Me: "Comme ci comme ca."
French Girl1: "Oui, Comme ci Comme ca"
Italian: "In French it's Comme ci comme ca? In Italian it's Cosi Cosi [sic]."
Pole: "In Polish it's [something I can't remember]"
German Girl: "In German it's So la la."
Me: "In English it's 'it's okay.'"
There may have been some other options discussed, but we decided that the Chinese is definitely the most astute. Somehow "horse horse tiger tiger" says it all.
I spent a good part of the weekend hanging out with the French. On Friday I went with the French guys to see NOFX. Great punk rock concert--I hope that it was Beijing's first exposure to a live American punk band because the crowd was about as rowdy as they possibly could have been. There was enough energy in the room that I somehow ended up on stage. Fortunately, there was enough energy in the room that people were there to catch me when I got off the stage.
Anyway, I started off the evening eating pizza with the French and feeling like a sore thumb for making everyone else speak English. Eventually, I had to admit that I had studied french for quite a long time, and then I got in trouble because I had to use it. At that point I could barely put a full sentence together in French before reverting back to English, or Chinese. The guys gave up and spoke to me on my own level. I did manage to overhear parts of the side conversation in French, and I think my comprehension is much better than my ability to speak.
I spent the next two days sightseeing with the French girls, Virginie et Marguerite. By the end of today, I had become thoroughly confused. I was speaking English with the girls, reading their French guide book and directing the driver in Chinese. When I tried to bargain with the driver in French, I knew I was in trouble.
The balance of my non-native languages is at stake! I'm not worried though: If I lose my Chinese, then I'll at least improve my French. Marguerite assures me that if I hang out with them, then in three months I will be watching French movies without subtitles.
***NEW FEATURE: Click on the images for links to more photos!***
Hutong school is a particularly good example of the reality of the internationality of this city. Last night I went out with two Poles, an Italian, an Australian, two French, a Slovakian and a Filipino. We also met up with a few Chinese friends.The inevitable result of the convergence of nationalities is a language juggling act. Desert last night included a rousing discussion of the Chinese phrase 马马虎虎 mamahuhu:
French Girl1: "mamahuhu...it's horse horse monkey monkey?"
Me: "Horse Horse Tiger Tiger."
French Girl2: "and it means?"
Me: "Comme ci comme ca."
French Girl1: "Oui, Comme ci Comme ca"
Italian: "In French it's Comme ci comme ca? In Italian it's Cosi Cosi [sic]."
Pole: "In Polish it's [something I can't remember]"
German Girl: "In German it's So la la."
Me: "In English it's 'it's okay.'"
There may have been some other options discussed, but we decided that the Chinese is definitely the most astute. Somehow "horse horse tiger tiger" says it all.
I spent a good part of the weekend hanging out with the French. On Friday I went with the French guys to see NOFX. Great punk rock concert--I hope that it was Beijing's first exposure to a live American punk band because the crowd was about as rowdy as they possibly could have been. There was enough energy in the room that I somehow ended up on stage. Fortunately, there was enough energy in the room that people were there to catch me when I got off the stage.
Anyway, I started off the evening eating pizza with the French and feeling like a sore thumb for making everyone else speak English. Eventually, I had to admit that I had studied french for quite a long time, and then I got in trouble because I had to use it. At that point I could barely put a full sentence together in French before reverting back to English, or Chinese. The guys gave up and spoke to me on my own level. I did manage to overhear parts of the side conversation in French, and I think my comprehension is much better than my ability to speak.
I spent the next two days sightseeing with the French girls, Virginie et Marguerite. By the end of today, I had become thoroughly confused. I was speaking English with the girls, reading their French guide book and directing the driver in Chinese. When I tried to bargain with the driver in French, I knew I was in trouble.
The balance of my non-native languages is at stake! I'm not worried though: If I lose my Chinese, then I'll at least improve my French. Marguerite assures me that if I hang out with them, then in three months I will be watching French movies without subtitles.
***NEW FEATURE: Click on the images for links to more photos!***
Saturday, April 14, 2007
New Pictures!
Here Is a Picture of the old man from yesterday.
More of my pictures from the last few days are HERE.
More of my pictures from the last few days are HERE.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Taking Candy
Remember when you were young and your parents, teachers and generally wiser elders told you not to talk to strangers? That rule doesn't apply when you're a foreigner in Beijing--at least not when you're trying to improve your Chinese.
Today I took to the roads on a photography and workout extravaganza. I've learned in the last couple days that biking around Beijing is not the best way to get in shape because weaving between pedestrians, other cyclists and buses does not provide much opportunity for speed.
Nevertheless, I started heading south on Dongsidajie with no aim in mind. Soon, I unexpectedly found myself at Wangfujing, where I discovered that the police don't like it when you ride your bike on pedestrian streets. A short time later I learned that the police don't like it when you try to take pictures of them...
Forced to circumvent Wangfujing, I headed towards the Forbidden city to take pictures of the tourists/locals/anything interesting. By the time I left, the light was getting to be pretty decent and the vendors were starting to realize that I had no intention to buy anything.
I pedaled up the street, and was in the process of taking the long way home when and old man in fatigues waved me over with one hand while he spilled beer from the bottle in his other hand.
Having a shiny new bike is a good way to make new friends.
The old man couldn't speak. He could only give me a thumbs-up to let me know how impressive the amount of hair was that I have on my arms. His thumbs-up quickly became a "clink" as he and his fellow sidewalk squatters invited me to enjoy an afternoon beer with them.
We chatted for about an hour, and one by one the gang dispersed until I was left with the original old man (who kept clinking and trying to get me to drink more) and one pedicab driver named Wang Sheng, who told me that he is twenty-three years old even though he looked like he could be forty. Eventually, he reminded me that Beijing has two thousand years of history, and that he could guide me through the hutongs to see historic courtyard houses. I appreciated the distraction, so I took him up on his offer, and followed him on my bike.
We basically just followed a few alleyways back to the houhai area. Every so often, we stopped and my new friend told me to read a sign that explained the historical significance of a particular hutong or house. He also pointed out places where old houses were being knocked down to be replaced by modern facilities.
Meanwhile, we chatted about various things--the differences between Beijing and America, whether I had a girlfriend, what I was going to do after studying Chinese--the usual. I can't say that anything he told me was particularly enlightening (although it was interesting to learn that spirits can't jump over high thresholds), but I did make a new friend.
We eventually worked our way north through a maze of alleyways and moving obstacles, and finally found ourselves at the Hutong School.
One of the teachers was standing outside, and after Wang Sheng left he told me: "You have to be careful when you spend time with strangers."*
Maybe you don't have to remember--teachers everywhere give the same advice!
*rough translation
Today I took to the roads on a photography and workout extravaganza. I've learned in the last couple days that biking around Beijing is not the best way to get in shape because weaving between pedestrians, other cyclists and buses does not provide much opportunity for speed.
Nevertheless, I started heading south on Dongsidajie with no aim in mind. Soon, I unexpectedly found myself at Wangfujing, where I discovered that the police don't like it when you ride your bike on pedestrian streets. A short time later I learned that the police don't like it when you try to take pictures of them...
Forced to circumvent Wangfujing, I headed towards the Forbidden city to take pictures of the tourists/locals/anything interesting. By the time I left, the light was getting to be pretty decent and the vendors were starting to realize that I had no intention to buy anything.
I pedaled up the street, and was in the process of taking the long way home when and old man in fatigues waved me over with one hand while he spilled beer from the bottle in his other hand.
Having a shiny new bike is a good way to make new friends.
The old man couldn't speak. He could only give me a thumbs-up to let me know how impressive the amount of hair was that I have on my arms. His thumbs-up quickly became a "clink" as he and his fellow sidewalk squatters invited me to enjoy an afternoon beer with them.
We chatted for about an hour, and one by one the gang dispersed until I was left with the original old man (who kept clinking and trying to get me to drink more) and one pedicab driver named Wang Sheng, who told me that he is twenty-three years old even though he looked like he could be forty. Eventually, he reminded me that Beijing has two thousand years of history, and that he could guide me through the hutongs to see historic courtyard houses. I appreciated the distraction, so I took him up on his offer, and followed him on my bike.
We basically just followed a few alleyways back to the houhai area. Every so often, we stopped and my new friend told me to read a sign that explained the historical significance of a particular hutong or house. He also pointed out places where old houses were being knocked down to be replaced by modern facilities.
Meanwhile, we chatted about various things--the differences between Beijing and America, whether I had a girlfriend, what I was going to do after studying Chinese--the usual. I can't say that anything he told me was particularly enlightening (although it was interesting to learn that spirits can't jump over high thresholds), but I did make a new friend.
We eventually worked our way north through a maze of alleyways and moving obstacles, and finally found ourselves at the Hutong School.
One of the teachers was standing outside, and after Wang Sheng left he told me: "You have to be careful when you spend time with strangers."*
Maybe you don't have to remember--teachers everywhere give the same advice!
*rough translation
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Beijing Bicycle
Here's a picture of my new bike. According to Laoguo it's very beautiful, so it might get stolen. I have to make sure to lock it to things other than itself. It's a little bit too small, but it was the biggest frame size they had in the store, so maybe Chinese people don't buy very many big bikes. At any rate, it's pretty decent, and you can't beat the blue and pink color scheme!
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Meeting Hutong School and Tibet
Yesterday I finally got to go to the Hutong School itself and start to figure out what's what. Jan is still not there, so I'm not really starting the internship, but I got to meet a lot of the other students/interns and some of the teachers. I still have to arrange my Classes because they will be private lessons, and I'm still not sure what time they will be held or how often.
More interestingly, I went out to dinner with some of the other students and one of the English teachers. The teacher was really interesting because she is originally from Tibet. I am not positive, but I think that she must be Tibetan and not Han Chinese.
Anyway, this teacher has a lot to say because she comes from an autonomous region and she studied politics in University. At first, she insisted that she liked teaching as opposed to doing something related to her major because it is more fun, but eventually she admitted that the real reason she is teaching is because taking a teaching job was the only way that she would be allowed to stay in Beijing. The Chinese have what she described as a "stupid" system in which everyone has an ID that says where they are from and where they are allowed to go; unless they have a job that validates their living away from home, they are not allowed to leave their original province.
Naturally, once we all discovered that she was from Tibet, we began asking questions about China's treatment of Tibet and what she thought of Tibetan independence. As someone whose family lived through the Communists rough handling of Tibet, she had strong feelings about the questions. Nevertheless, she is not so unhappy with the Chinese that she supports independence. In her opinion, if Tibet became free from China, then it would just become dominated by another nearby country like India. The way things are now, the Tibetan government is technically autonomous. The Party only gets involved through capital investments and maybe back room type dealings--perhaps these types of involvement show a greater control than direct rule, but for the time being things are working out reasonably well.
Admittedly, the past was much more of a problem. We talked mainly about the Great Leap Forward. The teacher told us that a huge percentage of people in Tibet starved at that time, and that some even resorted to cannibalism. She started to talk about how family members tried to save their children, but we didn't get very far into that conversation.
The most telling part of our discussion was when she told us that during the Great Leap the government collected crops from the peasants--allegedly to repay their debt to Russia. However, the government really was not paying any debt (I may be wrong about the date, but it was around that time that Stalin died and China stopped its involvement with Russia). Meanwhile, the crops that were collected just rotted while the people starved! The governor(?) of Tibet feared for his life at that time. It seems that people threatened to eat him.
What strikes me most is that none of the people in Beijing even knew about these problems in the provinces. Beijingren only get their news through government sources, so the censorship is severe and people are kept ignorant of the governments dirty dealings in its own country. Today the censorship reaches the internet, and it's hard to say what people know, and more importantly what they believe. It seems that the only reliable source of information about Chinese history are the people who experienced it first hand.
More interestingly, I went out to dinner with some of the other students and one of the English teachers. The teacher was really interesting because she is originally from Tibet. I am not positive, but I think that she must be Tibetan and not Han Chinese.
Anyway, this teacher has a lot to say because she comes from an autonomous region and she studied politics in University. At first, she insisted that she liked teaching as opposed to doing something related to her major because it is more fun, but eventually she admitted that the real reason she is teaching is because taking a teaching job was the only way that she would be allowed to stay in Beijing. The Chinese have what she described as a "stupid" system in which everyone has an ID that says where they are from and where they are allowed to go; unless they have a job that validates their living away from home, they are not allowed to leave their original province.
Naturally, once we all discovered that she was from Tibet, we began asking questions about China's treatment of Tibet and what she thought of Tibetan independence. As someone whose family lived through the Communists rough handling of Tibet, she had strong feelings about the questions. Nevertheless, she is not so unhappy with the Chinese that she supports independence. In her opinion, if Tibet became free from China, then it would just become dominated by another nearby country like India. The way things are now, the Tibetan government is technically autonomous. The Party only gets involved through capital investments and maybe back room type dealings--perhaps these types of involvement show a greater control than direct rule, but for the time being things are working out reasonably well.
Admittedly, the past was much more of a problem. We talked mainly about the Great Leap Forward. The teacher told us that a huge percentage of people in Tibet starved at that time, and that some even resorted to cannibalism. She started to talk about how family members tried to save their children, but we didn't get very far into that conversation.
The most telling part of our discussion was when she told us that during the Great Leap the government collected crops from the peasants--allegedly to repay their debt to Russia. However, the government really was not paying any debt (I may be wrong about the date, but it was around that time that Stalin died and China stopped its involvement with Russia). Meanwhile, the crops that were collected just rotted while the people starved! The governor(?) of Tibet feared for his life at that time. It seems that people threatened to eat him.
What strikes me most is that none of the people in Beijing even knew about these problems in the provinces. Beijingren only get their news through government sources, so the censorship is severe and people are kept ignorant of the governments dirty dealings in its own country. Today the censorship reaches the internet, and it's hard to say what people know, and more importantly what they believe. It seems that the only reliable source of information about Chinese history are the people who experienced it first hand.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Apartment Pictures
This is a shot of the kitchen. You can see the washing machine through the door. The bathroom is behind it. If the internet connection wasn't so slow I would upload a pic of the bathroom, which impressively incorporates a toilet and a shower in the same closet.
This is the living room. Nice mod-ish couch, TV with DVD player and refrigerator/freezer.
My room. A bed that might as well be a granite slab with a beanbag pillow. There is also a wardrobe that is not wide enough to hang things in.
Overall it's a pretty nice place! There's an elementary school next door and a bunch of little shops around the corner.
到了
I arrived in Beijing last night. The drive from the airport to the apartment was fun because I got to remember a bit of Beijing Geography. It looks like the city has grown since the last time I was here, but once we got inside the second ring road I started to recognize where I was.
The apartment building is in a block of similar buildings. It has six floors and I'm lucky enough to be all the way on top--Six flights of stairs was a lot of fun with my suitcases. The building is right near 雍和宫 the Lama Temple. Apparently we are a subway stop away from the Hutong School.
Today the school is closed because of Easter, so I get a day to settle in. I'll post some pictures this afternoon.
The apartment building is in a block of similar buildings. It has six floors and I'm lucky enough to be all the way on top--Six flights of stairs was a lot of fun with my suitcases. The building is right near 雍和宫 the Lama Temple. Apparently we are a subway stop away from the Hutong School.
Today the school is closed because of Easter, so I get a day to settle in. I'll post some pictures this afternoon.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
First Post
Helloooooooooo!
So I'm being lame and starting a blog because I'm not going to see real people for a while, and I thought that you all might want to find out about things that are happening outside of the Dartmouth Bubble. Don't worry, I'm not really going to the elusive "real world," I'm actually going to the land of make-believe (AKA China).
I'm calling the Blog "Dan Ran Away" because I'll post about cool places that I go and things I see etc. Also because that title has awesome assonance (and assonance has the word ass in it...).
I'll only put up the good pictures here. I'll put lame pictures on facebook (maybe).
Anyway, enjoy!
So I'm being lame and starting a blog because I'm not going to see real people for a while, and I thought that you all might want to find out about things that are happening outside of the Dartmouth Bubble. Don't worry, I'm not really going to the elusive "real world," I'm actually going to the land of make-believe (AKA China).
I'm calling the Blog "Dan Ran Away" because I'll post about cool places that I go and things I see etc. Also because that title has awesome assonance (and assonance has the word ass in it...).
I'll only put up the good pictures here. I'll put lame pictures on facebook (maybe).
Anyway, enjoy!
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