words
chapter three @ 1998 June
still life in jinzhou
Still alive and well in Jinzhou: the mundane stuff
My three month anniversary here in China has passed. Time flies when you're having fun. (I prefer the Groucho Marx version: "Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana" - but I digress.) This will be the third chapter I have written. The new and unique experiences keep piling up. I'll pull some things off that pile for this issue. Some of what follows didn't make the cut for Chuck in China 2. Other stories in this issue have been related to some of you in personal e-mails. So forgive me if you have read some of this before. Nevertheless, I hope you find this issue of Chuck in China interesting. Finally, I would like to thank everyone for their e-mail. It is most welcome. I awake each morning and check my e-mail (see A Day in the Life ... in this issue). It is always nice to get that "Mail Waiting" message when I log on. Again, thanks for the e-mail - and for the kind words many of you have sent me regarding these Chuck in China posts. Xiexie (=Thank You). So here's chapter 3 - a little bit of this, a little bit of that, and a lot of gratitude mixed in.
You will meet many people here who will offer to introduce you to any aspect of Chinese culture you may wish to delve into. They are proud of their culture and feel honored to help westerners understand it. I am more interested (at least at this point) in the Chinese language and history and I get many offers (every day, in fact) for assistance. But a word of friendly caution, many of the people who offer to help will do so with an expectation that in the process of helping you, they will have the opportunity to improve their English, or (as occasionally happens) get assistance from you in emigrating. So a "Chinese Lesson" for me quickly morphs into an "English Lesson" for them. I have become wary of offers of help. In Jinzhou, there is a contingent of what I call "English Groupies". They attend all of the various English Corners held at the various schools around the city. There are also English clubs in the city sponsored by a few local individuals who speak passable (barely) English and who are always trying to hire themselves out as English tutors. Whenever a new westerner comes to teach at one of the schools here, word immediately spreads among the English Groupies and they will try to get our phone numbers or hang out by our apartments. If they succeed in getting your phone number, you will get lots of unsolicited calls; some from people wanting to meet you to practice their English, some who will actually ask you "Will you be my friend" within 10 seconds after meeting you. Some of them are small-time foreign trade "wannabes" who will try to get you to help them started in the import/export business. These people are long on ambition and short on capital, know-how, and contacts. Some of the people in Jinzhou will just dial your number to listen to the strange sounds coming from their earpiece when you answer the phone. The latter are the worst. When you hang up, you immediately get a string of 4 more phone calls. They call all their friends, I think, and tell them "Dial this number and check out the funny noises waiguorens make!". (One of the teachers from another college had to have his phone disconnected because his number was all over town!) I am very discreet in who I give my number to but that still hasn't stopped some of the Groupies from somehow getting it. My approach with the Groupies has been this: I work for my college, not for the people in Jinzhou who want to practice their English. My first duty (indeed my only duty) is to my school and my enrolled students. So I have kept the Groupies at arms' length. I have had people from the town occasionally show up in my larger classes (I have one lecture class with 90 students). They think I won't notice them (you know, the old "All Chinese look the same" which incidentally isn't true - and that becomes much clearer the longer you are here). The Groupies just want some English/western contact. Some teachers don't notice them but I usually do. I make a point of telling them they must have permission from the school to sit in my class. They invariably tell me they have permission. They may even pull out a handwritten note in Chinese to prove it. (As if I can read it! Which is what the desired effect that they hope to gain.) When I tell them to have the department dean call me to confirm it, they ask for my phone number so that they can give it to him. He knows my number and rarely calls. I rarely see them in my class again. And they realize I am not Er Bai Wu. The cultural differences between East and West are immense. So too, the United States, as the proverbial "melting pot", is much more accustomed to encountering people of other races and nationalities. It is much rarer in China to encounter a non-Asian. In Jinzhou it is virtually nil. Because the culture differences are so great, I am glad that I am spending my first year in a larger town, if only to get acclimated to the constant staring and attention. Guaranteed: walk down the street for two blocks and people will stop dead in their tracks, drop their jaw and gape at you. Groups of drunken men standing on the street corner or high school boys hanging out will yell, "Goodbye! Okay! Hello!" at you then turn around, look away and giggle (yes, even the old drunks giggle - everybody giggles here - I have read that it is the manner in which the Chinese show embarrassment). Or the people hanging out in the doorways of shops will duck back inside and call to their family "Kuaidianr come see the "Waiguoren". Jinzhou has a small zoo located at Bei Hu Park north of the city. I went to there last week with one of my adult students and warned her as we walked in, "I will get more attention than the lions and bears". She laughed, but she soon learned I was right. People were trying to "subtly" get me in their camera frames as they purportedly took pictures of the "other" animals at the zoo. I told her that I should get a percentage of that day's admission fees for being the "Special Exhibit " at the Jinzhou Zoo. 
Bei Hu Park - Jinzhou
Photo by Jinzhou Econ. Dev. Zone
Even in a town as "large" as Jinzhou (which is the same size as Cleveland but only the 45th largest city here), and despite the large contingent of English Groupies, for the most part even the most basic things are wonderful challenges at first: going to the market each day, buying toilet paper, eating in a restaurant off a menu you can't read. I am glad I am getting acclimated a little before I visit some small towns and villages. Every time I go out of my apartment building here, I am on display. I don't know how it can get worse, but I am sure it would be in a small village. Recently, I found a quiet bench by the river, back in some trees and tall bushes so I could get outside and write some letters. I was near an area where many of the old men who keep songbirds for pets come every morning with their bird cages. It is a big hobby among the elderly here. They all hang the cages from the trees and bushes. Dozens of birds sing while the old men visit each other. It was a very peaceful place to sit and write and, I thought, I was pretty well away from the beaten path and the constant stares. As it happened, two of my students wandered by and saw me and came over to talk. People along the paths heard the strange sounds coming from the bushes; not the birds, but the funny sounds of people speaking a strange language. Of course they wandered over to investigate. Then they saw the Waiguoren. The students left after five minutes but word quickly spread through the park that a "long nose" (one of the Chinese slang terms for westerners - see Chinese Lessons in this chapter) was sitting in a corner of the park writing strange symbols on paper so, of course, they had to check it out and I was soon surrounded by a dozen staring people 4 feet away (that's 1.2 or so metres - China is metric - also Chinese-English spelling is British, thus "metres"). Anyway, I just continued to write. One kid, about 11 years old, just stood there about 2 feet away (that's 0.61 metres for those of you who are metrically-challenged). He just stood there watching me writing away and staring at the paper (which, incidentally, was 210 mm by 297 mm; 8 1/2" by 11" paper doesn't exist here.) This lasted for about 15 minutes (that's 900 seconds-oh, never mind). He was oblivious to the western concept of rudeness - that concept just doesn't exist here. So I just wrote away, as oblivious to him as he was to the concept of rudeness. And the caged birds just sang their songs - the only living things in the park that day oblivious to my presence. 
ON THE BIRDWALK
photo © carla king, 1998
Jinzhou is 12 hours ahead of Cleveland - if it is 9:00 Sunday morning here, many of you are probably just heading out for (or for my parents and their friends, just getting home from) a Saturday night in Cleveland. Here's a rundown of a typical weekday in my life in Jinzhou. 6:20 am The campus loudspeakers crank up exercise music. No alarm clocks are necessary here. Hundreds of students and others gather just outside my apartment to do morning exercises. (Incidentally, all of this happens Sunday mornings too). 6:30 am I pull the pillows off my head and plug in the electric teapot to boil water for my morning coffee. While the water boils (remember kids: "A watched pot never boils"), I crank up the Thinkpad and I plug in the bathroom hot water heater. It will take about 1/2 hour to get enough hot-water for a shower. In about 2 minutes, I make my first delicious cup of Nescafe Instant Coffee. I have been waiting two months for a package of fresh coffee my parents shipped. (Needless to say, at that rate, it won't be very fresh - but I'm sure it will still beat instant coffee from a jar.) 6:45 am I check my e-mail and a couple of web-sites on the Internet for the world news (and sometimes Cleveland news), and to see how many students went on a shooting spree in U.S. schools that day. That's one problem that doesn't exist here, but it has happened 4 or 5 times in the States in the three months that I have been here. And my students are always shocked and incredulous when I tell them such things. 7:15 am I do my morning exercises. In my apartment, thank you. It's a little too early yet to deal with the gapes and stares that an outdoor workout would engender. 7:40 am There is now enough hot water ready to take a shower - if they haven't shut off the water altogether (an occasional occurrence here). 8:00 - 11:30 am. Class, class prep, grading, answering e-mail, writing. For some reason, I never have classes on Wednesdays (am I bitching?) so Wed. mornings I sometimes catch the 9:00 am re-run of Baywatch - David Hasselhoff dubbed into Chinese is hilarious. Pamela Lee needs no translation whatsoever.) This semester (Spring, 98) I have no morning classes scheduled any day of the week. 10:00 The loudspeakers crank up again (in fact as I write this it just happened). At 10 every morning the medical clinic across the courtyard empties out and about 20 or so white-coated doctors, nurses and staff do morning tai qi (exercises) in the courtyard to taped music. I make my daily trip to the market for cigs, Coca Cola, necessaries, and lunch. I have made many friends among the vendors (much like the West Side Market) so I often sit and try to "talk" with them. My Chinese slowly gets better. You'll meet one of the vendors, Li Yu Feng, later in this issue. 12:00-12:30 pm Lunch. I usually grab something at one of the stands and bring it back to my room to do more work before class. I check my e-mail again. Some of my friends in the States are night owls (Right, Joe?) and do there e-mail late at night which is noontime here. 12:30-1:15 pm - Siesta. Everyone takes a mid-day break here (must be those 6 a.m. exercises that tire them out. Even the banks close from noon until 1:30. After May 1, they moved the afternoon classes back an extra half-hour - from 1:30 to 2:00 now. I have been told by many that the Chinese don't like the sun (you see lots of umbrellas on sunny days) and heat and so, they will take a long nap after lunch. It's true. You hardly see anyone walking on campus between 12:30 and 1:45. Even the workers go off somewhere to nap. 2:00-4:00 pm - Classes. 4:00-5:00 pm - Office hours with students or I go play basketball. 5:00-6:30 pm - Class prep. for my evening classes 4 nights a week. I check my e-mail again. I have a few friends in China who are just getting home from work and may e-mail me then. 6:30-8:30 pm - Evening classes (including Friday night - imagine American college students attending class on Friday night. I don't think so!) 8:30 pm - Dinner time. 9:00-11:00 pm - E-mail, class work, study Chinese. In theory, anyway. Often I am pretty worn out and don't get to the class work or the Chinese lessons. After leading two 2-hour long classes and when every little errand takes a lot of mental effort to accomplish, I am often exhausted (happily so) at the end of the day. But I do check my e-mail one more time. It's morning in America and some of my friends send me e-mail from their office or school. After a day surrounded by Chinese language and characters, it's nice to read a bit of English and hear from friends. 11:00 pm - Read in bed 11:01 pm - Fall asleep The Chinese get up early and go to bed early. The lights in all the buildings on campus except ours are turned off at 10:00 p.m. They are turned back on at 5:20 a.m. That's when the students get up. In fact because of the strange time-zone here (the whole country is on the same time even though it spans 4 or 5 time zones) the sun these days is actually rising at about 4:30 a.m. Here's a funny story about how early the Chinese get up; it wasn't funny at the time, though. One Saturday morning any thoughts of sleeping in evaporated at 7:15 a.m. At that ungodly hour, a student called to apologize for missing my Friday night class. The college had shown the official version of the Titanic at the student union the previous night (see A Pirate Ship ... in this issue) and there were five people absent from my class. I made a joke about how I hoped the absent students would enjoy the movie. "Ohhh noooo! they are not at the movie. They are all ill," said the other students in the class. "Ohhh noooo! I saw one of them on her way to the theater as I was walking to class," I told the class. "Ohhh nooooo!," thought the other students in the class, worried now about their friends and their little lie. Alma, one of the absent students, felt guilty all night when she learned that I had spotted someone going into the theatre (it hadn't been her I had seen, incidentally) and she had to call and apologize!!! At 7:15 A.M.!!! On Saturday morning !!! On the one day that they don't do 6:20 a.m. exercises outside my window (yes, they do them Sunday through Friday)!!! Ohh noooo!, my phone is ringing at 7:15 a.m.!!! "Ohhh NoooooI," I told Alma, "I can forgive you for skipping class, but don't EVER call me at 7:15 a.m. on a Saturday morning again." "Ohhh Noooo! Never again!" she replied. I'm not sure whose Postal System is worse, ours or theirs. You decide. Mailing anything from Jinzhou is similar to 1930's America. You take your letter to the post office (The guide books tell you not to seal it until you are at the post office, but no one there seems to care what is in the envelopes.) You hand your envelope to the clerk at one of the windows. Lines don't exist at the post office (or anywhere else for that matter). Just push it in front of her face along with everyone else who is doing the same thing. My height and reach give me an advantage here. My appearance also tends to freeze many of the people who, and I say this loosely, are "standing in line". The clerk weighs your letter on a scale. No need to tell her it's overseas air-mail. Where else would this Meiguoren be sending mail to addressed with strange symbols. She tacks on the air mail charges. She adds up your bill on an abacus, hands you a bunch of stamps of various sizes and amounts, and you are now ready to mail your letter. You walk over to a long table with 4 or five glue pots sitting (actually, they are stuck) on top. Neither the stamps nor the envelopes have adhesive and you take a stick from one of the glue pots and you seal your envelope and glue on the stamps. It's a lot like second grade. But it ain't Elmer's Glue in the pots. The stuff is industrial strength. You could use it to fix (bad pun here:) your broken china. On my first mailing, I ended up gluing all four envelopes I mailed together. The clerk I handed them to was not amused. But then, neither was I with the whole system. But the U.S. Postal Service has got to be worse. When my sister Barbara had her baby in early April, I sent a letter and card with some pictures to her. I had her old address in Chicago. Last week, I got the letter back. That's about 6 weeks after I mailed it off. It had arrived in Chicago and the US Post Office had stuck the yellow forwarding address sticker on it with her correct new address. But do they forward it to her the six or so blocks she has moved? No! Because she had moved more than 6 months previously. So rather than deliver it to her new address - which they had - it was on the sticker they stuck on the envelope, they return it halfway around the world to China. Er Bai Wu. And then to add insult to injury, U.S. Customs searches it on its way back. So I got a mangled envelope six weeks later, Barbara, Dan and the kids got nothing, and someone in U.S. Customs got to look at some pictures of Jinzhou. And it only cost me 24 Yuan (US$3.00). That's about 5 lunches here - hell, that's two (2) cartons of cigarettes! And then there's that package of fresh coffee I'm still waiting for in the mail. Wonder which postal service is enjoying that coffee. (Here's a hint - they prefer tea in China.) KARAOKE UPDATE Believe it or not, we have not visited a Karaoke place since the last issue, so I have no interesting updates for you on China's national pastime - Karaoke. Chen He (see Chuck in China-Chapter 1 and Chuck in China-Chapter 2), who owns the Karaoke Bar has not called and invited us back since our last visit. Was it something we said?
As you no doubt know, Mao is dead. What you may not know is this: Mao's China is too. For the last twenty years, China has been embarking on it's self-described "Opening Up to the World Policy". A primary focus of that policy, especially in recent years, is a move toward a market economy. As I have related in previous Chuck in Chinas, everybody sells everything here (except fresh coffee). The country calls it "A Market Economy with Chinese Characteristics". 
CHOP SHOP
This man carves and sells Chinese "Chops" - carved stones with your name engraved in Chinese characters in bas-relief on the bottom so you can stamp your name on things. photo © carla king, 1998
You can buy/sell/haggle everywhere you go here. It is a shopper's paradise - especially since the prices are exceptionally low. It goes beyond just the exchange rate (currently stated to be 8.28 Yuan to the dollar but in reality (i.e. when I go to the bank) about 8.02 Yuan to the dollar). Even after figuring in the exchange rate, the prices are still much cheaper. You begin to get a sense of just how high prices are in the U.S. and how advertising and promotional costs (e.g. Nike pays Michael Jordan $30 Million a year) and liability costs (lawyers and insurance fees due to excessive liability lawsuits) add to the prices of goods sold in the U.S. One of the first adjustments I had decided to make here in China after a few days was to ignore the exchange rate. Here's an example: I am brand new to China. I walk into a store. I see a shirt I like. I ask the price. It's, say, 18 Yuan (that's after a bit of haggling - the vendor started at 30 Yuan). I think, "OK, that's US$2.25. Unbelievable! Cheap! This shirt in the U.S. would cost $25. I can buy it for US$2.25! Sold!"
Then I realized that I am not being paid in US Dollars, I am being paid in Chinese Yuan. So I readjusted my thinking. "OK," I now say to myself ignoring Dollars and Yuan, "this is a 25 shirt. I will not pay 30 for it. If I can haggle the price down to 18, now it's a bargain." So I ignore the exchange rate and just think in terms of numbers. A can of Coke is 2.50 Yuan. That's only US$0.25. It's a deal in the US. But would I pay US$2.50 for a can of Coke in the US? Probably not. But then again, Chinese soda pop is so awful tasting that I probably would. But that's another story! (See Li Yu Feng in this issue ).
Thus, if you come here for a short time, just to visit and shop, and are living on US Dollars, it is downright incredible how far your dollar will go. But if, like I, you are going to live here for awhile - and are being paid in Chinese Yuan - you must readjust your shopping sense. Just think in terms of the amount and ignore the currency and the exchange rate. Nevertheless, the cost of living is still considerably lower here than the U.S. First, my salary if considered in US Dollars, would be below the poverty rate in America. But by Chinese standards, my salary is considered quite high (perhaps 3 or 4 times what a Chinese professor is paid). Secondly, just in terms of buying power, my pay goes much farther in a month than if I was paid the exact same numerical amount in U.S. Dollars and living in the US. Thus I am enjoying quite a good standard of living while I am here. Another simple example will suffice: I can have a pretty good lunch everyday for 3. That's US$0.37. Incredible price to a visiting American. But I ignore that and focus on the number. The same lunch in the U.S. would cost me 6 in the US, so it's still a great bargain. See! Isn't economics fun? Especially Economics with Chinese Characteristics? The next time you see one of those sappy Wal-Mart ads, think of this next story: Teacher Donna (from Canada) was at one of the big local department stores here and found a blouse with a Wal-Mart price tag (US price) and inventory control tag on it. The US price tag said $10.52. The store's price tag was 12Y which is about US$1.49. Apparently a company in China produces the clothes for Wal-Mart (and Wal-Mart advertises themselves as the "All-American" place to shop!) and they even attach the price tags and inventory control tags (all in perfect English mind you - that's rare here) before they ship them off to Wal-Mart in the U.S. But a few of them found their way into Jinzhou on the way from the manufacturer to Wal-Mart - much to Donna's delight. They made this little movie in America called "Titanic", it seems. Perhaps you have heard of it? So have the people in China. Big Time! The Titanic is the hottest thing all over China right now. It arrived in Beijing the first week of April and shortly after, in Jinzhou. In the form of pirated (bootleg) copies of the movie. Back home, I really didn't care about seeing the movie, but after weeks of Chinese television, I was ready to see anything in English. One day, we discussed the movie in class because everyone had heard about it and they all wanted to know about it. I told them I hadn't seen it in America. So two students figured that since I talked about it in class, I must want to see it. (The students here are very big in the brown-nosing dept.). The VCD (video CD) rental stores here all had bootleg copies within days after its release in Beijing. (Video CD's are everywhere here. VCR's are out-of-date technology here. This place is electronically more advanced than the U.S. probably because the new technologies are manufactured here before they are shipped to the States. Music CD's are all VCD's-every song has a video along with it. No one has a VCR anymore - they have VCD players and systems. You can rent a VCD movie for 2 Yuan a night -that's about US$0.25!) Anyway, two hours after class the two students show up at my door with a VCD player and the Titanic VCD. They plug the VCD system into my TV and we watched the Titanic. About 2 minutes into it, the screen goes dark for about 2 seconds. Then a little while later there is some real low giggling in the movie which didn't seem to fit the scene. Then about a minute later there's a shadow of a man walking across the bottom of the screen. That is when I realized that someone with a video camera had filmed the movie in a movie theatre so I was watching a video VCD of a movie screen showing Titanic. Occasionally, you would hear people in the audience. And as the 3 hour movie wore on, you'd see shadows of people walking up the aisle and a couple of minutes later walking back down (the theatre's cesuo becoming busier as the movie wore on!). So my first view of Titanic was in China from a pirated copy of the movie. The copyright lawyers would have had a field day over here. And I guess they are beginning to. I have read in the papers that the government is cracking down on pirated music, movies and software in the larger port cities and in Hong Kong. This is due in part to China's strong desire to gain admittance to the World Trade Organization (WTO). One of the main concerns the WTO has voiced about China is that it needs to strengthen it's intellectual property laws (i.e. trademark, patent, copyright). So in an effort to show the world that such things matter to the Chinese, the authorities have been cracking down on bootleg and pirated copies. (By the way, if you think this is a problem endemic to China, well there's an old proverb about glass houses and throwing stones. If you are looking for cheap, bootleg copies of cassettes, VCR tapes, and CD's in Cleveland, just visit one of the many convenience stores in Ohio City.) In 1978, two years after the death of Mao Zedong, Deng Xiaoping, his successor announced a major policy shift. It was called the "Opening Up to the World" policy. It is still going on. A major part of China's opening-up is the move to what it calls "A Market Economy - With Chinese Characteristics". The bottom line seems to be that China, while still a socialist country (but I would hardly call it "communist" in the Soviet sense that most Americans think of), is bending over backwards to encourage private enterprises. The "Chinese Characteristics" so often cited seem to be a mix of Asian culture (customs mean a lot as does a person's word - written contracts are rare - family is paramount - elders are to be respected -education and teaching are essential) and societal principles (the individual is secondary to the well-being of the society as a whole, a principle that is difficult for us to grasp given our individualistic nature). Yes, it is incredibly crowded. The streets, the buses, the housing, the classrooms, the dorms. It is remarkable that people get fed, that people have places to live, that people can get from here to there without many private cars (entirely legal, by the way, to own your own). There are very few beggars on the streets. I have seen more homeless people sitting in the park in Ohio City in one afternoon, than I have seen in Jinzhou in three months. Everybody tries to do something to earn a living even if it is just setting up a shoeshine stand, a curb-side barber shop, a bicycle repair stand on the sidewalk, or a fruit stand in an alley. They don't seem to have a lot of regulations for businesses to meet, or zoning laws or traffic laws, etc. 
HAIRCUTS - 12¢ Here's a great concept:
Barber Shops al-fresco.
And you can't beat the price. photo © carla king, 1998 People pretty much go about their business (emphasis on "business"). Living here, in a country that is home to 1/4 of the world's population and 5 times that of the U.S., all of whom are occupying essentially the same amount of land (U.S.: 6.2% of the world's land vs. China: 6.5%) you begin to have an appreciation for the massive job it is to feed and house the 1.2+ billion people here. When a people are faced with such a situation, it becomes less of a political issue (socialism/communism) than one of survival and functionality. China has been around, more or less intact, for 2500+ years - longer than any other world culture. I think they have some idea as to how it all works. Despite what Americans have heard, private property exists (big time!) in China. And China continues to move to the market economy. It is selling off its formerly State Owned Enterprises. As it does so, the new (privately held) owners are laying off the overstaffed businesses. Laid off workers are encouraged to start their own businesses. Small businesses are as prolific as weeds in the streets of Jinzhou as I have mentioned in previous C in C's. Gone are the "Iron Rice Bowl" days when every person was guaranteed a job and an apartment for life. With privately-owned businesses, there is no job guarantee. Nor is there the housing guarantee. As a matter of fact, beginning July 1, workers will now be required to buy their apartments. (In the city here, their are no houses, but some of the apartments I have been in here are as sumptuous inside as a Gold Coast condo - cherry wood, floor-to-ceiling paneling with carved wood fixtures, parquet floors, etc.) Since mortgages and credit are new concepts here, the government will provide the initial loans. Interest rates in China are less than 1% currently. Outside of Beijing, Shanghai, Shenyang and Guangzhou, prices of apartments are downright cheap. And you can't beat the financing. And with this move, I expect that that bane of western business - the real estate agent - will soon be flourishing here in China ... with Chinese characteristics, of course. (U.S.: "Location, location, location"; China: "Bargain, bargain, bargain!)
Across the street from the College is the Hangzhou Market. It reminds me a lot of the West Side Market in Cleveland where I often went (especially when I had Uncommon Grounds). I have dubbed the Hangzhou Market the "East Side Market". And just like the West Side Market, I have made many friends among the vendors - even though the language is a barrier. Yesterday, one of my students accompanied me to the market. I had been shooting baskets and she challenged me to make a 30 foot shot - with an ice cream bar at stake. (Ice Cream is relatively new here and it's all the rage). I lost of course. At the market, all the vendors greeted me. Lisa (my student) was astounded. "They all know you, Teacher Chuck!", she said. "How can you make friends when you can't understand each other?" My favorite vendor is an older woman by the name of Li Yu Feng. I have given her the English name of Lucille in honor of one of my favorite vendors at Cleveland's West Side Market - Lu Walker of Walker Meats. Everyday I stop at Li's stall for cigarettes, Coca Cola and bottled water. She charges me 2.50 Yuan (US$0.30) for a pack of cigs, 2 Yuan (US$0.25) for a can of coke and 1 Yuan (US$0.10) for a 1/2 litre bottle of water. Lisa was astounded. "That's cheaper than Chinese prices," she said, silently acknowledging what we foreigners already know - there are Chinese prices and there are foreigner prices. Lisa starting talking to Li while I stood by not understanding a word of it. As we walked along, she talked to other vendors. On the way back to school she told me that Li had told her that the vendors all think I have a heart of gold and I am very friendly and considerate to them, even if we don't speak the same language. They told her they admire the fact that I am living here, so far from my home and family, and that I get along just fine without speaking the language. They told her that they know that people will try to cheat foreigners and that, since they like me (and probably since I shop there everyday too), they agreed among themselves to charge me the cheapest price. Li herself charges me less than she charges other Chinese, Lisa told me afterwards. Lisa herself has to pay twice as much for bottled water. I told her about the West Side Market (it's a shame that places like that have all but disappeared in America - thankfully for me, they are all over Jinzhou). I told her how some of the vendors at the West Side Market are among my favorite people in Cleveland and so I found it easy to make friends with the vendors at the East Side Market. Lisa told me she that she was proud that I could easily make friends with (as she called them) the common people and that I treated them as my friends. She told me that she was proud to be my student. But, she added, she was proud that her own people, the vendors, would treat me, a Waiguoren, as one of their own. Pride is a primary character trait of the Chinese. They are a proud people - and not without good reason. They are good people. And there are no people who are more helpful. In the end, it doesn't matter that I speak no Chinese, nor they English. Smiles and friendships need no common language.  CHINESE OMELETS - Hao Chi (Good Eats!) This picture may as well have been taken outside the East Side Market. There is a stand exactly like this standing on the sidewalk where the vendor makes omelets like these on hot metal slabs all day long. My egg-eating friends crave these things. And at 2 Yuan (US$0.25) it's cheap. photo © carla king, 1998
Lately, I have been hanging out with a guy and his wife who are pretty cool. Their English names are Mike and Anna. They own a music shop on one of the side streets. Mike (Xu Bai Xin) speaks excellent English Anna is from a western province of China, Ningxia, and she is working hard to improve her English. Mike used to work for a large Jinzhou corporation but tired of the business world (been there, done that!) and he and his wife opened their shop not long ago. It has about the best selection of western music (not to be confused with country and western, folks) that I have seen here. That means he has about 50 western cassettes as opposed to 5 - and that's not counting the bad disco, Celine Dion, Richard Marx, the Carpenters, Michael Jackson, and Madonna that every place sells).  The three of us have gone to dinner and played pool quite a few times. Mike is 31. Anna is 23. A couple of Sunday's ago, I was invited to his house for dinner along with Ramon, a student from Germany who is at the college here studying Chinese. Mike's father lives with he and Anna. It is virtually a rule here: when the eldest son gets married, the parents will live with he and his wife for the rest of their lives. I had read about this custom before coming here and, yes, it is true. It is uncommon to the point of non-existent that a parent does not live with a child. So it was an honor to be invited to their home for dinner (it is considered the greatest compliment the Chinese can extend to you). Mike's father is 72. The same age as my father. He spoke not a word of English. But he treated me as if I were one of their own. His father was in the People's Army (Mao's Army) in World War II, the Chinese Civil War, and in Korea. He was wounded badly in the shoulder during the Chinese Civil War by as Mike told me, "powerful American weapon which had been supplied to the Chinese Nationalists" (the group that now is in Taiwan in case you have forgotten your Asian history). He was a real interesting guy. He was a Chinese version of my father. He even had scrapbooks from his army days just like my Dad. (Substitute Mao for Macarthur and you get the idea). Though they fought for different armies, the resemblances were amazing. Mike's father even had had a reunion recently with his best friend from W.W.II who he hadn't seen in 50 years. I was thinking during the whole evening that he and my Dad would get along great. Really. Though they fought for different causes they both have so much in common - strong memories of the past, abiding kindness and friendliness to guests in their homes. It was an interesting evening. And as I left, the feeling swept over me that it would have been great to have my father there with me and to have witnessed two soldiers become new friends as a decades-old cultural gap just faded away.
This chapter is running on and on. So I'll go easy on your Chinese homework ... this time. First, let's learn a little slang. I have used the phrase Er Bai Wu a couple of times in this chapter. It is Chinese slang for "stupid" or "idiot". Literally translated it means "250". No one seems to be able to tell me why the Chinese refer to a stupid person as a "250". Maybe on a scale of 1 to 1000, 250 isn't too high. I don't know. But whenever I use it, people are surprised that I know the phrase. They laugh. "I know exactly what it means", I tell them, "Wo bu shi Er Bai Wu!" (=I'm not stupid!). Today I will teach you all the slang words (that I know) which the Chinese have for "foreigners". And there is a funny story which my family ought to get a kick out of: There are a number of slang terms for foreigner which I hear as I walk down the street everyday: Waiguoren (="far country person"), Laowai (="old foreigner", "old outsider" or "non-native", depending on who you ask), Meiguoren (="American"), even Houzi (="monkey"). I read somewhere that we are sometimes referred to as Houzi because our faces aren't flat as many Asian's are and we have to shave a lot more often - once a day as opposed to, say, once a week). One of the slang terms for foreigners here is Chang Bizi (="long nose") because our noses are longer than theirs (mine more so than most). Chang Bizi is pronounced "Chahng Beezuh" which comes out sounding an awful lot like "Chuck Beezer". When I was a child, my family, for some unknown reason, gave me the nickname of Beezer. (It later became the dog's name after I was older). So perhaps when I inherited my long nose and the nickname of Beezer, I was destined to travel here. Thought y'all would get a kick out of that little lesson in Chinese slang! FOR MORE CHINESE "LESSONS" VISIT
CHUCK'S (very) ABRIDGED CHINESE GLOSSARY.
To go there now, click here 
Chuck
  
Most of the photos in this issue are courtesy of
and copyright © of carla king, 1998.
All rights reserved. Used with permission.
For her fascinating accounts of her solo motorcycle journeys through the U.S., China, and India, motor on over to http://www.carlaking.com. Soon to be a best-selling book. See her site for details.
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