One World, One Dream, 1.3 Billion Souvenirs

Lest anyone doubt my Olympic spirit, I present the image below:


I didn't get prescription lenses in these glasses, but the salesgirl assured me it could be done.

Extinguish the Four Dangers!

This evening I received the following text blast text message from the Beijing Patriotic Santiation Committee:

The Beijing Patriotic Sanitation Committee health reminder: June 20th will be a whole city "Extinguish the Four Dangers" activity. For everyone's health, we invite the whole city population to motivate and stand up together to eliminate the threat of bugs.

I have to admit, I was initially a bit confused.

First, I made the rookie Chinese mistake of translating a title literally. The Chinese short name of the Beijing Patriotic Sanitation Committee is Beijing City Love Sanitation Committee (北京市爱卫会). Not that loving sanitation isn't a great reason for having a committee, but it sounded a little funny. When I went to their web site, I realized the Love stood for Love-Country, i.e. patriotic. I've definitely got to get back to formal Chinese lessons - when I forget that one character always stands for two, it's been too long!

Then, I wondered what were the "Four Dangers" Beijing citizens are coming together for fight? The rest of the message sounded so upbeat, yet eliminating the four dangers sounds so ominous. I could certainly think of plenty of dangerous things in Beijing that could use wiping out. The four dangers of transportation come to mind: wild taxi drivers, wild motorbike riders, wild bus drivers, and arrogant black sedan drivers. I didn't think the patriotic sanitation committee would target the roads, though, and I hoped friendly blogging foreigners wasn't one of the dangers tagged for extinguishing.

It turns out the "Four Dangers" are actually the "Four Pests": rats, cockroaches, flies, and mosquitos - all quite worthy targets for patriotic elimination.

The term Four Pests has not always referred specifically on these four. For instance, in 1955, Mao Zedong named sparrows one of the four pests, on the basis that they were menacing peasants by eating seeds and crops. By 1959, researchers had concluded that banging pots and pans to frighten sparrows and destroying sparrow nests were not productive uses of peasant time (a locust explosion in the absence of their natural predator, the sparrow, was one clue), and the sparrow was replaced by "stinky insects" on the list, and stinky insects were later replaced by cockroaches.

During the SARS epidemic, officials harkened back to the Four Pests as they called for citizens to get rid of civet cats and other rodents, in addition to rats and cockroaches. A web site dedicated to extinguishing the four pests (www.miesihai.com) has articles describing how to fight invasion by several different types of creepy crawlers.

Now that I think of it, I really hope the cleaning staff in my office are participating in the extermination activity, as the cockroaches there are decidedly unpatriotic, yet numerous and apparently invincible. Here's to patriotic extermination.

Try Air Canada for Reasonably-Priced Flights to Beijing

It's pretty expensive to fly from the United States to Beijing or Shanghai, and as the Olympics approaches prices for all travel services are going through the roof.

Happily, I was able to find a round-trip ticket from Beijing to Newark for $830 including all fees & taxes, and a friend recently found round-trip tickets from Beijing to Portland for under $700.

So, if you're coming my way for a visit (hint, hint), you might want to give Air Canada a try: http://www.aircanada.com/en/us/home.html.

I have not heard fantastic things about Air Canada's service, but they do have individual in-seat audio-video units on all Economy seats on the 77W aircraft that fly from Toronto to Beijing. Also, since I am usually forced to fly United trans-pacific for work, I am sure it will be an improvement. After observing United flight attendants - and I'm talking during boarding, not at the end of the flight - I've decided United must prep them for travel the same way bulls are prepped to go into the ring at a bullfight. There is no other explanation for adult professional coming to work so angry and aggressive.

The People's Cheer

In the gamut of national cheers (Huzzah! Ole!) where does "two claps - thumbs up - two claps - fists up" fit in?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7438367.stm

BBC NEWS
Beijing approves Olympics 'cheer'

Beijing Olympic chiefs are introducing an official cheer for patriotic spectators to spur on Team China at the Games, Chinese media reports.

The authoritative, four-part Olympic cheer, accompanied by detailed instructions, will be promoted on TV, in schools and with a poster campaign.

It involves clapping twice, giving the thumbs-up, clapping twice more and then punching the air with both arms.

The cheer is accompanied by chants of "Olympics", "Let's go" and "China".

The Beijing Olympic Organising Committee has hired 30 cheering squads who will show spectators how it is done at Games stadia, reports Xinhua state media.

'Civilized cheering'

A committee official said the simple chants and gestures were designed to help spectators cheer for their favourite athletes in a smooth, civilized manner.

The Ministry of Education is also arranging special training sessions in schools for the 800,000 students who are expected to attend the Games.

Li Ning, president of the Beijing Etiquette Institute, told the Beijing News that the cheer was in line with general international principles for cheering, while at the same time possessing characteristics of Chinese culture.

There is so much to think about in this brief little article!

The Ministry of Education is going to teach the people how to cheer for the Olympics?

Beijing has an Etiquette Institute? I would like to know more about this institute, which must be either extremely busy or extremely beleaguered.

Moon Festival for Spring Breakers?

Today I received an email from a local travel agent advertising two-day trip for Dragon Boat Festival, a traditional holiday in southern China that has just been added to the list of official Chinese holidays, creating a 3-day weekend this June 7-9.

The story of Dragon Boat Festival is that a beloved and respected poet, distraught about government corruption, threw himself into the sea in protest. The members of his community were so impressed by his devotion to right, that they threw tasty rice bundles (called "zhongzi") into the water so the monsters of the sea would eat the zhongzi instead of the poet. The poet died, but to this day everyone eats zhongzi on Dragon Boat Festival.

Back to my travel agent's email which offered more than a traditional celebration. Specifically, the advertisement reads:

What to expect on this trip? Eating zhongzi, playing volleyball and flying kite on beach, Sunshine, Beer, Experiencing fisher's lifestyle, barbecue dinner, windmill, Holland style wooden house or camping, bonfire, party, and randomly romantic.

That some serious celebration.

Putting the China in KFC

Before I begin this story, a disclaimer: This is not my story. I was not present, and I can not possibly tell it with the hilarity of the original protagonist, who related it to me. But I do have his permission to post it on the blog. And, while the setting and the exact dialog are unique, this conversation plays out in various forms in various situations hundreds of times a day in China. It's one of the reasons ex-pats, even those who know and love China and know this type of interaction is coming and even understand the cultural background, still occasionally end up tearing our hair out and screaming that we hate this place. So, without further ado...

Two white men walk into a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Beijing. The first one says to the girl at the counter, "We'd like some chicken in a bucket." The counter girl replies, in English, "Oh, we don't do that." The following conversation ensues.

American guy 1, thinking she didn't understand: Oh, all we want is some chicken, in one of those buckets.

Counter girl, still in English: We don't do that.

American 1: But, there's chicken in the bucket right here in this picture on the menu. And on the sign up there. And I can see the buckets right there on the shelf.

Counter girl: I'm sorry, we don't have chicken in a bucket.

American 1, now frustrated, launching into Chinese: Listen, you might think I'm just a big dumb foreigner, but I know you serve chicken in a bucket. You can't tell me you don't have chicken, in the bucket, because I can see you have the buckets. Don't make fun of me and lie to me... (and on this way for several minutes, which, I will note, is an impressively long time to rant and rave in a foreign language, particularly one as difficult as Chinese)

American 2, interrupting American 1: Wait. That's enough.

American 2, to the Counter Girl, in English: Ok. How about this. We would like 20 pieces of chicken. Can you do that?

Counter Girl: Sure, we can do that. Would you like that in a bucket?

I promise not to complain about the 13-1/2 hour flight to DC

My ayi, the incredible, cheerful Xiao Ping, mentioned she would be taking some time off over Chinese New Year. She, like most of the Chinese population, will return by train to her home province. Her home happens to be Anhui, one of the poorest provinces in China.

I asked her how long the ride would take, and she responded:

It's not too long. I'll get on the train at night and in the morning I'll be almost there. It's only 17 hours. It will be even better if I can get a seat instead of standing room.

It's when I get there that it gets harder. From the train I have to take a bus, then when I get near my home I have to take a boat across a small river. The river isn't wide, but sometimes you have to wait half a day for a boat to come.

I Don't Make These Things Up: Carrefour in China is Scary

In my February 27, 2007 blog, I described the Carrefour experience in China:

... let me acknowledge to those familiar with Carrefour in China that I do know how ridiculously nuts it was to brave the wild, cart-wielding, desperate DVD-, chocolate-, clothing-, appliance-, and frozen-food-seeking masses in Carrefour on any Sunday, let alone the weekend of Spring Festival. For those of you who have never been, I'll say this: the store is a reminder that even though the middle class is only a tiny fraction of the Chinese population, a tiny fraction of 1.2 billion is a very large number. And they all shop at Carrefour on the weekends. And not one of them knows how to navigate a parking lot with either a shopping cart or a car.

On December 3, I wrote:

That I went to Carrefour on a Sunday afternoon, by the way, speaks volumes about my desire to have a bike. It's dangerous in there. Picture the grocery store snack food aisle the morning before the Superbowl, the toy store on Christmas Eve when it finally gets a shipment of Nintendo Wiis, teenagers vying for autographs from the Harry Potter actors. This is Carrefour, every weekend. From liver to auto accessories, you can get what you need at Carrefour - if you can survive the crowd.

Some readers might think I'm exaggerating. Perhaps, Nancy simply doesn't understand the Chinese and their ability to turn into a crowd that is larger than the sum of its individual human parts. Maybe I'm so mentally prepared for a bad experience when I go to Carrefour that I attract trouble.

Now read this: 31 people were injured and three died at the Carrefour in Chongching when they stampeded for discounted cooking oil. If you don't believe me, read it on bbc.com.

Cough, cough: It Couldn't Get Any Worse (but the scary thing is, it could)

421 was not, in fact, the height of Beijing's pollution the other day. That was the official Chinese Environmental Protection Agency reading in Beijing up to 6 pm. But the following day, the Beijing Environmental Protection Bureau reported that from noon Thursday to noon Friday, almost all of the monitors within the city limits of Beijing had readings of 500. Since the charts top out at 500, it is impossible to say how bad the pollution really was.

Follow this link to see the Beijing Environmental Protection Bureau readings for Thur-Fri. It's in Chinese, but each line is a different district of Beijing, so all you need to see is how many readings are above 400 and 500 to understand. Also, it includes all of Beijing's surrounding counties, where the pollution indexes are generally much lower. www.bjepb.gov

At the bottom of this post, I have copied an AFP article that includes quotes from Beijing environmental and Olympics officials, but I also highly recommend reading this Dec. 29 longer, in-depth New York Times article by Jim Yardley that accurately describes both the Olympic and long-term aspects of Beijing's pollution problem.

If you don't read the NYT article - and again, I think you should - this quote the author got from a factor worker assessing Beijing's efforts to ensure clean air for the Olympics tells a large part of the story, and the first photo in the article, also pasted below, is chilling.

“Yes, I heard about it,” said an engineer at one factory that may temporarily be shut down. He refused to identify himself because he was criticizing government policy. “It is like you invite some guests to your home, and hide all your children underneath the bed to make the house look nicer. If all the polluting factories are shut down for the Olympics, there will be a major pollution outbreak afterward when all the factories restart, right?”

Picture of Tiananmen Square on Thursday, from the NYT article (Oded Bality/AP):


The AFP article is copied below. Don't miss the last line.

Beijing air pollution 'as bad as it can get,' official says

BEIJING (AFP) — Beijingers were warned to stay indoors on Thursday as pollution levels across the capital hit the top of the scale, despite repeated assurances by the government that air quality was improving.

"This is as bad as it can get," a spokeswoman for the Beijing Environmental Protection Bureau told AFP.

"Level five is the worst level of air pollution. This is as bad as it has been all year."

According to the bureau's website, 15 out of the 16 pollution monitoring stations in urban Beijing registered a "five" for air quality rating.

The main pollutant was suspended particulate matter, which is usually attributed to coal burning and automotive exhaust.

"Old people and young children should reduce outdoor activities and protect their health," the spokeswoman said.

The Beijing Evening News warned residents not to do their morning exercises on Friday as pollution levels were likely to linger over the capital until a cold front moved in and blew some of the bad air away later in the day.

A lack of wind in the capital over recent days has led to a heavy cover of smog trapping in the pollutants, the paper said.

By nightfall, the pollution was still horrendously thick.

In the run up to the 2008 Olympic Games, Beijing has vowed to clean up its air and this year set a goal of 245 "blue sky days," or days with only light pollution.

As of Thursday, the city needed one more day to reach the annual goal, the bureau said. But official "blue sky days" are often hazy affairs with heavy pollution.

Beijing's air quality is routinely rated among the worst in the world by international agencies such as the United Nations and the World Bank, with rampant coal burning, regular dust storms and a growing number of cars cited as the main reasons.

The head of the government's information office, Cai Wu, told reporters on Thursday that Beijing's environment was improving and they should have "full confidence" that the Olympics would be pollution free.

The City in Smoke

Twice in my life I have thought, "This must be what it feels like in a war zone." Both times were in China.

The first time was in February 2004, as I celebrated my first Chinese New Year in Shanghai. I and a couple hundred other foreigners were holed up in the Blue Frog bar on the old Maoming Rd bar street, the bar filling with smoke and ash from the fireworks outside. Over a couple of hours, the scattered sound of fireworks going off in all the neighborhoods around us grew, like popcorn in a microwave bag, into a steady popping on all sides, then into a furious, dizzying stream of different explosions, crackling, booming, whizzing so loud that there was no guessing which direction they came from. I assumed the chaos would subside after midnight, but when we stumbled out of the bar two hours later, holding our ears and unable to talk, we had to dodge sparks and flame, trudge through the waves of ash and paper wrappings that were continuing to pile up, and communicate with hand signals through the din. On that festive occasion, the twinge of fear that mingled with the sensory assault only added to the novelty and excitement.

The second occasion was this afternoon, and it was neither exciting nor festive. Beijing is officially just one Blue Sky Day short of the 245 Blue Sky Day quota this year, and wind and storms are expected tomorrow. Confident the wind will clear the air enough to make a Blue Sky Day by Monday, the Beijing authorities have apparently given up all pretense of trying to protect the People's air. Not only that, they are refreshingly honest about it: the official pollution index was 421, the highest I've seen it since I started paying attention in July. Other days may have been just as bad - although today was certainly among the worst - but since no one wants to be the bearer of that kind of news, officials low-balled the pollution index.

When I first arrived to Beijing, I would gauge the pollution by how far a I could see or not see outside my window in the morning. Now that coal-heating season has arrived, I gauge by the smell. I woke up in the middle of the night Wednesday night with smoke in my nose. The charred pollutants in the air had completely permeated my tightly sealed 16-th floor apartment.

By morning, I could feel it in my eyes and throat. All winter, Beijing-ers from my employees to taxi drivers to store cashiers have been telling me, "Drink more water," as if that were the cure for living in a petri dish. Mostly they say, "Beijing air is dry, drink more water, drink hot water." The bolder sometimes day, "Beijing's air is bad in the winter, drink more water." Several times I've said to myself, if one more stranger tells me to drink more water, I'm going to wring his neck. Today, though, I was drinking that water. With a bottle of cool water and a tall mug of warm water with honey next to me at all times, my throat still felt parched and dusty all day. By closing time, I had used up a significant portion of my herbal tea and cough drops, but my voice was still raspy.

When I left the office, the temperature was cold, yet it felt like walking into a burning building, where you can't see the flames but the smoke tells you there must be a serious fire. I could feel the grit in my mouth when I breathed. Although I could hear the ongoing construction on a nearby half-finished office tower and I knew where it always breaks the skyline, I couldn't see it until I was almost next to it. Wafts of a faint, almost sweet, chemical smell occasionally mixed with the basic underlying burnt odor the air.

On the way home, I was reflecting on how completely the smell and feel of smoke had covered the city. Everything was darker than usual, as thick layer dampened the glow of street lamps and fluorescent signs. The muted colors of Beijing, already a fairly gray place, faded into a e exhausted monochrome. Not only was there no identifiable source of the smoke and darkness, there's no way to know how long it will last - everyone tells me January is the worst month, and for all I know it might be this bad all winter. Everything looked depressed, from the tired commuters waiting for their buses with masks over their mouths to the coughing motorbikes to the friendly noodle shops that are usually oases of warmth and light. As I rounded the corner into my neighborhood, I saw one young child running. Her dainty, happy skip was so incongruous that it only magnified the gloom surrounding her. That's when, for the second time in China, I thought, it must feel like this in a war zone.

Lost: The Story of a Bike and a Nosy Bystander

I have previously written how much I enjoy my daily two-wheeled commute, despite the constant peril in the bike lane and the additional exposure to Beijing's toxic air. Even now that it takes some seriously creative engineering to determine the correct distribution of layers to both survive the morning cold and arrive to work looking at least somewhat professional, I am willing to do what it takes to ride to work.

Imagine my frustration, then, when I walked into the parking garage, excited for my first day back to work after two weeks in the States, and found my bike was missing. I searched the two bike racks by our entrance and walked the parking lot looking for a security guard, to no avail. The driver of the illegal taxi I grabbed to try to make it to work on time said, check Building 9. If you didn't use your bike for two weeks, they probably moved it to Building 9.

Sadly, the cluttered repository in Building 9 did not have my bike. I was chagrined, especially considering I definitely shared some blame for the loss. With the nice SUVs, high end vehicles, motorcycles, and other, much more expensive bikes parked in the garage, I had assumed there would be no reason for anyone to steal my bike, so I was not 100% diligent about locking it up. Clearly, I was not thinking about the scourge of bike theft in Beijing, as reported in this China Daily article. The author notes, "That 3,686 people have so far this year been caught stealing bicycles speaks volumes about the efforts of the local public security departments."

After a frustrating week of taxi-ing to work, I was relieved when the weekend came and I had time to buy a new bike. I headed to Carrefour, where I had originally purchased my 289 RMB bike at the discounted price of 189 RMB - plus, of course, the price of a basket, lock, bell, and light.

That I went to Carrefour on a Sunday afternoon, by the way, speaks volumes about my desire to have a bike. It's dangerous in there. Picture the grocery store snack food aisle the morning before the Superbowl, the toy store on Christmas Eve when it finally gets a shipment of Nintendo Wiis, teenagers vying for autographs from the Harry Potter actors. This is Carrefour, every weekend. From liver to auto accessories, you can get what you need at Carrefour - if you can survive the crowd.

It took me about 10 minutes to make my way to the bicycle section on the third floor. I
browsed the bicycle section, looking for the least expensive item that seems sturdy enough to survive the rigors of my commute, namely, getting up the ramp out of the parking lot and getting hit by other bikers without stopping. Two salesmen in yellow work suits watched me, and muttered about whether I might or might not understand Chinese. I settled on a 99 RMB number that one salesman said was too cheap for me. I replied my last one had been stolen and he nodded with an understanding sigh.

I tested the bike, dodging customers and carts in the mops & buckets aisle, the hats & jackets aisle, and the children's musical instruments section, which are all sensibly located around the bicycle department. As I returned to the bike salesman and told him I would need the handlebars and the seat raised, a 50-ish man in a slightly crumpled, mismatched brown suit appeared and started giving orders. First, he told me to get a more expensive bike, to which the salesman responded, she doesn't want to spend too much money because it will get stolen. Then, he told the salesman to raise the handlebars and put air in the tires.

I didn't know who this man was, and I didn't particularly appreciate him inserting himself into my bicycle transaction, but it was in fact time for the salesman to adjust the handlebars and tires, so I ignored it. You would be amazed how long it takes to adjust some handles bars and inflate tires in a busy Carrefour, and I was convinced this random brown-suited man was delaying the whole process. I pointedly ignored him as he attempted to advise me on what basket and lock to purchase (I was taking the lock more seriously this time than last), so he devoted himself to bossing around the salesman.

Almost minutes later, the bike was ready for me to test again. As soon as I climbed on it, I said, "You haven't raised the seat yet." The salesman replied, "Oh, the seat can't be raised on this model." I nearly lost my head, "But the FIRST thing I said was that I needed the handlebars and seat raised!" To which the salesman responded, "The seat can't be raised," and the brown suit guy chimed in, "He's right, it can't be raised."

I tried to explain that while I was annoyed that the seat couldn't be raised, what I was most bothered by is that because they failed to listen to me when I told them what I needed, I had just wasted over half an hour in their crowed, noisy, stuffy store. The brown suit then ordered the salesman to raise the seat - even though it couldn't be done - to show me that it couldn't be done. Moments later, we were in a shouting match, the brown suit and I, both tugging on the bike and telling the other to let go, as he insisted he could show me that the seat could not be raised and I insisted the last thing I wanted in the world was to watch him and the salesman futilely attempt to achieve the impossible task of raising the seat just to prove to me that I was wrong about wanting a bike with a seat at the appropriate height.

As you can image, we attracted onlookers. Finally, the salesman told the brown suit, she doesn't want to see me raise the seat. "Who is this guy?" I asked the salesman, but I got no reply. I was ready to ditch the store and go home without a bike, but how would I get home if I didn't buy a bike? With the throngs of people pouring out of Carrefour on a Sunday afternoon, it could be an hour wait for a taxi.

I sullenly refused to talk to anyone as I again browsed the section for a new bicycle. Brown suit man would not take a hint, however. And by hint, I mean, my turning to him and snapping, "I do not want to listen to you! Leave me alone!" as he gave me unsolicited advice about which bike to buy. He said, "But I'm just trying to tell you the right bike to get," until the salesman finally came over and repeated to him, "She does not want to listen to you. She wants you to leave her alone." at which point the brown suit shuffled off to the other end of the bicycle section to watch from a safe distance.

Finally, I saw it, for 289 RMB (plus the price of basket, bell, light, and lock). The same model bike I had originally lost. The one I knew could be adjusted to my height. And could fit the basket, bell, and light I liked. No discount this time, but in the face of the serene stability of the purple MANTX Bike, and the possibility of leaving the store without another fight, suddenly my fear of spending a chunk of money on something that was likely to be stolen again didn't seem so important.

As I completed my second spin through the mops and jackets and mini-instruments, the brown suit approached me again. He opened his mouth to comment on my choice of bike again, but I cut him off. It was time for a showdown. Here's how it went:

Me - Who are you anyway? Do you work here?
Him - Rolling his eyes, Oh, come on.
Me -Do you work here?
Him - No reply.
Me- You're not wearing a yellow uniform. Do you work here?
Him- (finally!) No, I don't work here.
Me - Then what does my purchase have to do with you?!?!?
Him - Silence.
Me - Nothing to do with you! Do not interfere with me again!

The salesman again came and told the brown suit, "She doesn't want your help." He huffed, annoyed, then finally shrugged and walked off.

Without the brown suit's "help", the process of exchanging my previous receipt for the n0-seat-raising bike, adjusting the new bike, and adding my accoutrement took about 15 minutes. Then it took only about another 12 minutes to navigate my way out of the store again to freedom.

So this was the tale of the hard fight I fought to obtain my second bike in China. The second bike is in for more adventures very soon, though, so stay tuned...

Yuck!

Yesterday, our Environment, Science, Technology & Health office sent out a notice informing everyone in the office that air quality was poor.

On Tuesday, they noted, Beijing's Air Pollution Index was 172. You didn't have to tell us - Tuesday evening, a group of us walked outside around 9:30 pm, and one of my friends said, "Jeez, can you see that?" And indeed we could. A thick haze blurred vision in every direction. The haze wasn't fog, it was particulate matter in the air. You could smell it, too.

On the Chinese EPA's scale, 172 is considered "lightly polluted," and the health effects are described as "healthy people begin stimulate symptom." The US EPA considers 172 "unhealthy" and states that everyone may experience health effects at that level.

Beijing, city of grand scale, was not ready to stop at an API of 172. Wednesday, the Air Pollution Index turned out to be 253! Even the Chinese EPA recognizes this level as "moderate-heavy polluted" and describes the health effects as, "the healthy crowds popularly appear some symptoms." The US EPA considers this level of pollutants "very unhealthy," meaning that everyone may experience more serious health effects.

I wonder if that's why several members of my staff have been off work sick each day this week with sore throats and colds? And those who are in the office are coughing and complaining of hoarse voices. I keep hearing about Beijing's winter pollution - I hope it's not like this for months!

Visitor Points Tally Update

I realized it is time to re-post the Visitor Points Tally, as I had a wonderful visit from the Shah sisters - Manisha Shah-Bugaj, Rupal Shah-Palanki, and Julie Alleyne (1 point each).

Although I haven't had a chance to blog about their adventures here, suffice to say they rivaled my cousins Michelle and David in shopping volume but didn't quite approach my Mom's professional attack on Yashow Market and the market at Yu Gardens in Shanghai. Like everyone who has been to visit me in Beijing so far, they were delightful guests, and both General Tsao and I missed them when they left.

Below is a link to just a few photos from their visit. Those of you who have been here will appreciate how much they were able to see in a short period - plus of course spending some quality time with me! Those of you who haven't visited yet, I hope you will take some inspiration - if these three high-power career women with families to take care of can find a way to take some time for themselves and each other (and me) to visit China, surely you can, too!

Shah visit Sep 2007

Enjoy the pics. The updated VPT is listed in the comments.

More hotel English

At our hotel in Jinan, the provincial capital of Shandong, the guest welcome note in our room was translated into - well, I couldn't really truthfully call it English, but it did use our alphabet. I couldn't get a clear picture, but the text read, in part:

If you are drunk the liquor please to send a telegram "2345" with the room service center relation. We will deliver the tea for you.

Please will not pollute the rug or the bed the thing as well as the turban class.

A sign in the shower was less stern, with this message:

Friendly proposing: Please control the temperature well.

Got all that?

Qufu - Birthplace of Confucius

We walked off the overnight train and into the town of Qufu to the explosions of confetti canons, which rained multi-colored paper scraps on the street in front of a newly opened department store. The sound - once we got over our fright at the sounds of artillery less than a block away from us - was apt accompaniment to bright red archways adorned with dragons and Chinese characters announcing the 2007 annual Confucian Culture Festival.

The wall surrounding the Confucian temple and Kong family home was draped with banners quoting famous insights from the works of Confucian scholars, while a crowd of locals and Chines tourists gathered in front of an immense TV screen to watch the ceremony being performed in front of an audience of invited dignitaries on the other side of the wall.
We started our tutorial on Confucian history at the Kong family mansion (Kong was Confucius's surname in Chinese.) Confucius himself rejected luxury and lived in a simple three room house that was later replaced by the large and ornate compound built by an emperor of the Song dynasty for his descendants.

The first generation of Confucius's descendants to live in this home was the 32nd generation - that is, the family of 32nd first-born son in the line of Confucius's first-born son's first born son's first born son, etc. Leading us around the site, our guide continued to pepper us with stories of the various generations, their families, and the interactions with emperors. I was amazed that the life and history of every generation of Confucius's descendants, on through the 77th generation son, who moved to Taiwan, is common knowledge. Our guide could give us the names of any generation of son, his wives, his brothers, his personality, and anecdotes about his life and accomplishments.

The birth of the 77th generation son was a fairly typical story about the descendants, whose lives did not seem to be consistent with Confucius's own way of life and philosophy of loving others, doing what is right, and leading by example. When Kong DeCheng, the 77th generation son, was born in 1920, his father had died several weeks before. The whole household, including not only his mother, but his father's other wives and all their children, were anxious to find out whether the child was a boy or a girl. His father had not yet sired a son; the Kong family estate, the authority of head of the Confucian family line, and the title of Sacrificial Official to Confucius hung in the balance. If the child were female, all this would have gone to the son of the father's sister, as the oldest male child in the generation. This was the last chance to save the household and keep the line.

As we now know, the child was male, and the household rejoiced. A large ceremonial door in the center of the courtyard was opened for the first time ever, and the mother walked through it with her son. (The door was opened for a second time when then-president Jiang Zemin visited the Kong family mansion, but he walked around the door, rather than through it, as a sign of respect.) One would think everyone in the family would have been grateful to her forth birthing the child that kept them in the mansion and in control of the Confucian family line, but jealousy drove another wife to murder the mother a few days later. So much for loving others.

I was pleased to find that city officials of Qufu have long protected the historical and cultural heritage of the Confucius family home, Confucian temple, and Confucian cemetery there. Unlike many important historical sites in China, these do not seem to have been destroyed by restoration, nor have they added loud music, lights, or amusement parks - despite being a famous tourist attraction, the atmosphere remains fairly serene. As you can see, preservation remains a priority. This bench reads, "The archaeological artifacts are not recyclable. Please take care of them."

The Confucian cemetery is home to the graves of Confucius and his many descendants. Anyone with the surname Kong is considered a descendant of Confucius. What if they are from some other Kong family, not at all blood related to Confucius, I asked the guide? Confucius was the first person with the last name Kong, she explained, therefore anyone with the last name Kong is his descendant. And if they are not even Chinese? Even if they are not Chinese. You see, Confucius is considered the father of surnames in China, since before Confucius there were no surnames. Thus, Confucius started the tradition of last names, and he started the Kong family line, therefore anyone with the surname Kong is part of his family. Got that?

Not every descendant of Confucius is eligible to be buried in the Confucian cemetery, however. According to our guide, there are four conditions for burial in the cemetery:
1) Must have the surname Kong. (See above.)
2) Must be male. (Females would marry someone and have children whose last name would not be Kong, therefore they are not really part of the family.)
3) Must be 17 years old or older. (For some reason, it is important to be an adult Kong to be considered a true descendant.)
4) Must have good morals/ no miscreants allowed.

Confucius's own tomb is in a place of honor in the cemetery, right near those of his son and grandson. Confucius is was given a title that can be translated as Sage, or even saint, and his grandson and many generations after were given the same title. Confucius son, however, while also venerated, was never given such a high title. I think the following story will dispel any misunderstanding that he might have been less clever than the other Kongs.

Kong son said to Confucius, "Father, in every way you are greater than me, but in one way I surpass you." Confucius asked, "In what am I inferior to you?" And the son replied, "Your son is not as great as my son."

Kong son then addressed his own son, "Son, in every way you are greater than me, but in one way I surpass you." Confucius's grandson asked, "In what way am I inferior to you?" And Kong son replied, "Your father is not as great as my father."

So, there.

We also learned at the Confucius cemetery that corruption is not a new phenomenon for Chinese public officials. There is a brook running through the cemetery called the Zhu Shui River, and there is a large stone sign identifying the bridge over the brook as Zhu Shui Bridge. When the sign was erected, the name of the bridge was carved in characters in the middle of the sign, with the date and a quote from the official who commissioned the sign along the side.

Many dynasties later, an emperor sent a large sum of money to Qufu to have a new sign built for the bridge. The new sign, of course, would recognize the emperor instead of the earlier office. Of course, the money went to other uses.

When the emperor announced he would come to Qufu to pray and honor Confucius, the local officials knew he would cross the bridge and see the old sign, rather than the one he had paid for. Scrambling for a solution on a shoestring, the officials removed the stone panel, turned it around, and carved a new sign, with the new date and emperor's name, into the back side of the panel. They put the sign back up with the newly carved side facing front. The emperor never knew the difference, and the sign with two carved sides remains over the bridge today.

For more pictures of our trip to Qufu and nearby Taishan, follow the link below:

Qufu & Taishan

You get what you ask for?

I was recently stranded in a Chinese airport while my flight was delayed for several hours. Because it is not possible to check in for a Chinese domestic flight more than an hour in advance, I was stuck, with my luggage, outside security, where there were no shops with Olympic paraphrenalia, no comfortable lounge (OK, there's no comfortable lounge in any Chinese domestic terminal, but a lounge anyway).

My only options were the Chinese airport restaurant - huge, with no customers, surly staff, plastic-wrapped dishes (more on that in another post), and food that manages to be at once bland and incredibly salty - or the Chinese airport bar - Chinese wine, Chinese beer, maotai, a couple of cocktails you've never heard of, and pickled anything snacks. I went with the bar.

The waitress appeared by my side as soon as I sat down, not saying a word but indicating with her bored countenance that I should order immediately. When I asked if I could have a minute with the menu, she said yes and kept standing there.

What to order? My new departure time had not been posted, but the airline representative reported our aircraft would not arrive for at least 3 hours. I didn't feel like beer, and I definitely did not want to take my chances with Chinese wine - after all, what I really needed was to relax. Every cocktail on the small list included either blue curacao or rice wine, not a good sign.

As I was about to resign myself to a bottle of water and some boiled peanuts, I spied "Bailey's coffee" on the list. I didn't feel like caffeine, but if they have Bailey's with coffee, they must have Bailey's right? But Bailey's as it's own drink was not on the list. Not on the list = will not compute with waitress.

I chose my words carefully. "You have Bailey's coffee, right?" Bailey's coffee, yes, she replied, turning around and walking away. "Wait! Wait!" She came back and stood over me silently. "So, can you bring a glass with Bailey's in it, like from the Bailey's coffee, but don't put any coffee?" She stared. "You get my meaning? Baileys, but I don't want any coffee?" Wait, she told me, and turned around and walked away again.

Wait, instead of the anticipated, No, sounded promising. Even better, she reappeared and said. Yes, we can do it. "Great, then, I'd like that - Baileys, no coffee. Oh - and I'll need some ice with that, OK?" She didn't reply, but slid off and I waited happily. And in fact, I did receive Bailey's, no coffee, with ice. Like many things in China, it was not exactly what I expected...
... but it did the trick.

The Beijing Terry Fox Run - Don't Run - Run

About half an hour after I got back from the gym Saturday morning, my friend Jenson called and told me the 7K Beijing 2007 Terry Fox Run would begin across the street in Chaoyang Park in an hour - did I want to run? I was a little concerned that the combined effects of jet lag and and additional 4+ miles on top of the previous hour of exercise might really wipe me out, but I decided to join.

I'm glad I did not miss it. Of course, I wanted to see my friends after a couple of weeks out of town, and I support the Terry Fox Foundation's cause - raising money for cancer research in the name of Terry Fox, an amputee with bone cancer who attempted to run across Canada in the early 80s to raise awareness and money for the National Cancer Institute of Canada. On top of that, the event had some memorable aspects, including the biggest foreign celebrity in China and an militant announcer who told the runners not to run.

Arriving around 9:30, Jenson, Mark, Ti-Ying and I were happy to see we had not yet missed the 9 am warm-ups. Warm-ups, when they did begin, consisted of two small, wiry Chinese guys in tank tops rolling their heads and shoulders and making what someone described as kissing motions toward the sky. As we looked around at the many people gathered for the event - alarmingly few actually dressed in running clothes, or even sneakers - we commented that 7K was an unusual distance for a run.

We also couldn't help scratching our heads a bit about the the dancers, who were dressed in traditional Chinese costumes but performing an odd, sort of neo-modern, jerky rowing motion back and forth across the stage. As they gave way to dancers dressed in nurse costumes singing, 'Thank you," then Beijing city officials, then the Canadian Ambassador, we knew we must be approaching starting time.

Of course, no Canadian-sponsored event in China would be complete without Da Shan, and we were not disappointed. Da Shan, for the unititiated, is simultaneously a symbol of friendship, hope, and unmitigated hatred for foreigners studying in China. Da Shan, whose Chinese name means "Big Mountain," is a Canadian named Mark Roswell who began studying Chinese in Beijing in the late 80s, when there weren't many foreigners running around. At some point, he ended up on a TV show - not an uncommon even for Chinese speaking foreigners, who were considered highly amusing novelties well into the 90s - and became noted for his particularly good Mandarin.

As he continued to study Chinese and began learning traditional Chinese performance arts, Da Shan continued to get invited for appearances and shows, until all of China knew of Da Shan, the foreigner who speaks Chinese better than many natives, knows classical Chinese, reads poetry, and builds bridges between Canada and China. He's been in Chinese TV programs and movies and has his own Chinese learning TV show and web site, and he's plugged products from Chinese translators to Ford automobiles in China.

All this sounds delightful, unless you are unfortunate enough to be another foreigner studying Chinese here. Friendly Chinese making conversation always ask, "Do you know Da Shan?" (No, he's Canadian and much older than me.) "I mean, have you heard of Da Shan?" (Yes, about a million times...) "Your Chinese is good, but not as good as Da Shan." (Yes, I've heard that too.) "You can't really understand Chinese culture until you've learned classical Chinese like Da Shan. Da Shan can do xiangsheng [a traditional Chinese type of comedy routine involving very fast-spoken, quippy conversation among 2 or 3 performers with lots of puns and literary references], you probably don't know what xiangsheng is." (But I do! Sigh.)

Can you blame us other foreigners for making violent gestures whenever we hear his name? The following quote in the China Daily after Da Shan was appointed Canada's Olympic Attache to China didn't help his case with Americans, either:

When Chinese people see the red and white and 'there's a guy from Team Canada,' the image is, 'Oh, Dashan's on that team and they're our friends.' As opposed to the Americans.

As Da Shan introduced the run - given the prized role of speaking last on stage, even after the Canadian ambassador! - Mark noted that he would really like to catch up with Da Shan and give him a piece of his mind about that quote.

Finally, it was time for the race, which we knew because an announcer suddenly yelled in Chinese, "The Terry Fox 2007 Beijing Marathon of Hope begins now!" and not one, but two starters shot off guns. Excited but slightly confused runners looked right and left in front of the stage, not exactly sure which direction was the race course. They were saved by another announcer who quickly grabbed the microphone and yelled, "Don't run! Wait a minute! Don't run!"

Apparently, an enthusiastic rush of runners pouring across the starting line was not the chaotic image the organizers wanted associated with the Beijing Terry Fox run. The announcer then began listing groups of sponsors - universities, cancer-fighting organizations, companies, who may proceed across the starting line to the right, with their supporters behind the appropriate banner or flag.

We did not have a banner or flag, but we finally felt it would be OK for us to start on the loop through Chaoyang Park. We passed a variety of events occurring simultaneously with ours, including two weddings doing pictures and a couple of groups of Xinjiang-style dancer groups in multi-colored skirts and head-dresses. Unfortunately, it was a thick, dark gray day with light rain and palpable pollution in the air, probably not the best day for either an outdoor run or wedding pictures.

The course was a very simple loop, and we had been running for perhaps 20 minutes when Da Shan appeared by our side, chatting with a Chinese runner. A moment later, we found ourselves crossing the finish line. While one might expect celebrations and festivities at the end of a charity run, the plaza was surprisingly empty. We found almost no one there other than Mark, who had finished a few minutes in front of us. Mark confirmed with his GPS wristwatch that the run, advertised as 7K, had been only about 3.5 K, or 2.2 miles, and equally round number for a road race, I suppose.

With no fanfare, music, or even water at the finish line, there was nothing to do but head off for a nice brunch at Chef Too, which we did once Mark had taken the opportunity to talk to Da Shan. I don't want to steal Mark's thunder, so I will hold off on reporting that conversation to give him the opportunity to blog it on www.facethesun.org.

Back - but what does it all mean?

I'm back to blogging, after a frightfully long hiatus. There's lots to tell, but let's start with a language lesson. A colleague and I joined two Chinese teachers and a local guide on a trip to Qufu, which is the birthplace of Confucius, and Taishan, which is one of China's five most famous mountains. In addition to our Chinese immersion, however, we also tested our English with these translated signs. Let's see how you do...

1) In a (slightly smelly) public restroom. English text: Sweet memories go with you and clean environment leaves behind.

Chinese text - proper translation: Leave a beautiful environment, leave a beautiful memory.
What did they really mean? Please be neat!

2) In our hotel guest guide. English text: Respect guest hello, the guesthouse enters you in the room has electric heatingcanteen, Please directly receives in the basin tap the running water,after boils Then drinks uses.
Chinese text - proper translation: Greetings Respected Guest. There is an electric hot water pot in your room. Please boil the tap water before drinking.
What did they really mean? It takes 5000 years of civilization to learn how to use a tea kettle.

3) On the light switch above the night table in our hotel. English text: Bedside shoots the lamp.
Chinese text - proper translation: Bed head shoots the lamp.
What did they really mean? Since you are an American, we have booked you into our "Wild West" room. Please enjoy the violence. Tee hee.

4) Hotel night table. English text: For your safety, please keep chsh and valuable goods in head stage.
Chinese text - proper translation: For your safety, please leave cash and valuables at the front desk for safe keeping.

5) In hotel bathroom. English text: Please use slippery.
Chinese text - proper translation: Please take anti-slip precautions.
What did they really mean? This is the most dangerous bathroom ever. Because this is an old state run hotel in a provincial capital, it is not well kept and the bathroom floor is never dry.

August 8

Well, give Beijing one thing: they managed a blue sky day for August 8.

I really don't think we can give credit to Chinese calendar's assertion that
yesterday must have been a clear, warm day because it was the first day of autumn, though.

Yesterday, citizens of Beijing definitely saw blue sky. But while we were out there staring out the blue sky, we were sweating our eyeballs out: it was 93 degrees and humidity once again reached 100%. According to weather.com, the humidity went as low as 56%, almost refreshing, although I was inside at that time and can't confirm.

As for pollution, this could not possibly be a coincidence: the pollution index for Beijing yesterday was 88.

So how did the weather turn so blue and half-bearably dry? I am sure the rain storm the day before had something to do with clearing the air. Did the heavens cooperate to bring honor on the descendants of the dragon as they prepare for the historic 2008 Olympics? Perhaps, but the heavens surely had help from a little seeding of the clouds.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, don't mind that peasant farmer over there manning the anti-aircraft gun. Those shells he's shooting into the clouds will make it rain. Like all other Olympics preparation systems, the rain-making (in more ways than one!) system was tested for the one-year countdown. Beijing officials have committed to preventing rain at Olympic venues during athletic events, and they also plan to rely on manufactured rain storms to clean the air.

There are a few minor flaws in this plan, however. One, noted yesterday, is that the effects of a seeded rainstorm don't last that long. This morning looks a little bluer than normal, but in general these storms clear the air for only a little more than a day. On top of that, the effect is not always dramatic as one would like. Sure, the sky was blue yesterday. But would you want to be an Olympic marathoner in 93 degree heat and over 70% humidity most of the day? Even without pollution, August in Beijing is just not an ideal setting for athletic competition.

Finally, cloud seeding is just one of many, many aspects of Olympic preparations where the effects on ordinary citizens don't seem to be taken into account. Last year, farmers complained when officials seeded clouds to make a convenient rainfall. Without interference, they pointed out, the rain would have eventually fallen on their fields, instead of falling prematurely on the city of Shanghai. Their crops suffered in favor of Shanghai's cleansing shower.

Waiting for August 8

For the last eight weeks, Beijing has been a humid, soggy, gray mess. I have seen blue sky twice. It's hot - in the 90s almost every day. And, it's wet - humidity over 90%. I used to believe that 100% humidity = rain, but that's not true. Beijing reaches 100% humidity, and it doesn't rain. For days.

With this level of humidity, it's impossible to differentiate between the fog and the pollution. You know they're both out there, but on any given day, you can't tell which one is responsible for the fact that you can barely see across the street.

The Chinese government's Air Quality Report (SEPA) gave Bejiing a "3A" rating for yesterday, which means, according to SEPA,

"The symptom of the susceptible is aggravated slightly, while the healthy people will appear stimulate symptom. The cardiac and respiratory system patients should reduce strength draining and outdoor activities."

As a healthy people, I can confirm I did appear stimulate symptom: nose running, sneezing, and an occasional stinging in the eyes when outdoors.

I should be clear, though, not all of the blame lies on the pollution or the failure of the authorities to curb pollution. Even with a normal level of pollutants, it would be difficult to be outdoors in this weather, and in the States it would be recommended for many folks to reduce strength draining and outdoor activities. And, with this level of humidity, it would be difficult for even minor levels of pollution to dissipate from the city air.

When one points out to Chinese acquaintances, especially Beijingers, that even if Beijing achieves its pollution control goals, 90-degree heat with 90-percent humidity are not conducive conditions for Olympic athletic performance, they all say, "It will be clear by August 8." Every one agrees, on August 8, the heat will break. On August 8, the air will be dry. August 8 is a magic date. And so, I wait, for August 8.

Why do Beijingers have such faith in August 8? There are probably a few reasons. The first two are most straightforward:

• August 8 is 8/8. 8 is the most auspicious number, so this date must be an auspicious one. Not as auspicious as it will be next year, when the Olympic opening ceremonies will begin at 8 pm on 8/8/08, of course, but an auspicious date in any year to be sure.
• August 8 or this year kicks off the 1-year Olympic countdown activities. As part of the countdown kickoff activities, sporting events are being held all over the country to test China's level of preparation. Festivals and banquets will be held to evaluate the progress of the service industry. 1 million cars will be taken off the road in Beijing to practice for the Olympics and see if it makes any difference in the air. In case you're curious, the way officials get 1 million cars, 1/3 of the automobile population, off the road in Beijing, is to tell all the public servants not to drive. (No, foreign diplomats don't count.) When 1.3 billion people, all descendants of the dragon, join forces in this way to bring honor to the Middle Kingdom, it's not too much to expect the heavens will force the weather to cooperate.
  

But there is another reason, entirely separate from the Olympics. In the Chinese traditional calendar, August 8 represents the beginning of a new season: Autumn. By the time we in the West start Autumn on September 23, the Chinese are halfway through it.

The Chinese also subdivide their seasons into smaller portions, so that August 7 (today!) is not only the last say of summer, but also the last day of the most unbearable sub-portion of the hottest sub-season of summer.

Summer starts in early May, on a day called 立夏 (li xia), or the standing up of summer. But the real heat starts at the beginning of the 三伏天 (san fu tian), which literally means three lying down days, and perhaps could be described as the three periods when it's so hot you want to lie down all day. This stretch of time is about 30 days of the hottest, most humid weather in China.

More over, the hot san fu tian 三伏天 is further broken down into three 伏天 (fu tian) periods of about 10 days (I say about, because there are some years when the whole 三伏天 period is actually 40 days - a fact that requires a far deeper understanding of the Chinese calendar than I posess.) There's early fu, middle fu, and end fu. End fu is the hottest and most humid of them all, and August 7 is the last day of that final fu.

So, today I will bask in the end of the 末伏 "final fu" of the sanfutian of summer. And let's hope Chinese are right about tomorrow!