Time to Start Sharing

There are 18 million more Chinese men of marriageable age (20-45) than woman of said age group.

By 2020 the number, produced by ‘family planning authorities’, is predicted to rocket to 30 million.

There are 122 boys for every 100 girls in Chinese rural areas. The global sex ratio norm is 103 boys to 107 girls.

What can one do except invest in scandalous calender and playing card companies?

I predict that this will be a problem.

I also want to ask if these numbers have been seen in other societies, past or present. If so, what happened?

Cheers for the Cheerless

Right now I am sitting in China’s modern day Opium den- the ‘Internet Bar’.

It’s smoky, dark, dirty, and, you guessed it, smelly.

The people burn up spare time, lunch breaks, and whole evenings here. They chat with friends, watch movies, and play games that would make any middle school student droll.

In China no minors are legally allowed access to a computer. It’s strictly 18 years or older. For the most part this rule is adhered to in populace neighborhoods. The rule is broken in the suburbs and less crowded venues.

In Shanghai most (by most I think I mean all) Internet ‘bars’ are located on the 2nd floor of a grubby building. Each staircase is littered with game and cola advertisements. They are high up to avoid disputes with the law. Very clever.

No beer or alcohol is sold or permitted inside the ‘bar’. This makes sense. Drunk gaming would wreck havoc on alternate universes.

These ‘bars’ are either a ’shit-hole’ or they are classy dives. Regardless of which ‘bar’ you frequent roaches and bugs will actively search you out. They eat the food droppings of fast typing gamers and chatters.

It sounds bad, but it has its charms.

The one sad institution in these cafes are the poor children. These children, with nothing to do, and no money to spend, sit in unoccupied chairs next to gamers or movie watchers. They then attempt to glean as much entertainment as possible from the active, smelly, and unconcerned gamer next to them.

It’s sad to see kids (by that I mean teenagers) so desperate for amusement. They are also desperate for food. They will ask only when said gamer takes off his headphones, reclines and lights up a smoke (obviously basking in the pride one can only feel after slaying a large monster from mysterious origins). It’s unfortunate.

What’s even more off putting are the smiles and glimpse of true enjoyment that momentarily cross their faces as the screen next to them mildly amuses them.

I remember, watching a man fall down on Youtube (now blocked for reasons the Gods only know), the teen next to me couldn’t control his laughter. Once he stopped laughing he looked like shit again.

I had to give him something. He had an amazing laugh.

Facing people who want food in an urban area is something all to common. People can get used to it, harden up, and start making excuses as to why beggars don’t need their money.

It’s something else entirely to see a kid want to laugh, relax, and escape. You can’t walk away and say, “He will just buy drugs.”, or “The money won’t go to him, but rather a gang.”. In this case, the case of begging for entertainment, excuses are hard to come by.

I expect that such dislocated youths in other countries form gangs and raise hell for attention and lewd entertainment. In China these kids don’t/can’t form collective groups of hell raisers.

So how do you entertain a number (what that number is I don’t know) of hungry, bored youths?

Social groups and community service projects are the buzz phrases probably forcing their way up to your tongue right now. I hope that could/will work. But I don’t see it working anytime soon. There’s more pressing problems.

For now, I can only search out really funny videos (without Youtube) when a kid sits next to me and hope he tells his friends all about it. Hopefully he can get his friends laughing really hard.

If he can do that, he can probably do a whole lot more.

Youtube Banned in China

Far less Chinese falls, spills, accidents, collisions, reported

Youtube.com has been blocked by Chinese authorities since this Wednesday (10/17).

It joins the likes of the BBC, parts of Flicker, Wikipedia and some (really good, or really bad?) porn sites (authors note: Playboy.com has been deemed fit for Chinese eyes).

Why now?

One can argue that this months 17th Communist Party Congress has spurred authorities to block Youtube fearing negative (or satirical) footage to be shown (not to mention comment abuse from 8th graders around the world).

However, there is no obvious rhyme or reason as to when or why sites deserved to be blocked.

Google’s Blogspot is currently available (since June) after it was blocked for hosting a series of exotically charged tales authored by the illusive Chinabounder (a English teacher in Shanghai who enjoys penning his sexual experiences with Chinese girls). The site was lewd and inspired a few Chinese academics to demand its downfall for the sake of Chinese cultural preservation. I don’t know what that means. If Chinabounder was telling the truth, and this we can never know, then his adventures are simply Ian Fleming books without all the fighting and spying.  http://chinabounder.blogspot.com/

Regardless, I, along with 1.3 billion other people, will be robbed of the pleasure of seeing people fall down on a nicely laid out webpage. We will instead have to use the Chinese equivalent, Tudou.com (which activity breaks every copyright law in the book).

It’s an inconvenience which will, in my opinion, not prevent social unrest. For every free Tibet or Taiwan video there are thousands more that are far more entertaining, and thusly far more appealing to the masses.

China’s View on Development

Local Feelings, Foreign Views

Before I went to bed last night I stood on my balcony for a minute. I was trying to guess what the morning’s weather would bring (I guessed cloudy). The scene below was business as usual.

This morning I woke up and eventually stood on the balcony to feel the weather (my prediction was right). However, to my surprise the vacant lot about a half mile away was now bustling with workers and decorated with balloons. It was now a construction site.

The vacant lot sits in front of the river and the Pearl Tower (read: tallest building in shanghai). The lot, and this is a wild guess, will be home to a new high rise building.

Knowing the speed of Chinese building projects I assume my balconies view will suffer greatly in about 4 months.

This speaks wonders for Chinese development. However, development at the cost of obstructed balcony views appears to be a grave injustice.

This small point is meant to be seen in the larger picture.

Why?

The slums below my apartment will eventually be paved over and block another balcony before 2010. The area I live in, although not centrally located, is becoming centrally located enough.

Remember the (only) internationally reported Shanghai real estate story of this past Summer?

The story concerned an old woman who refused to leave her slum house for bulldozing developers.

It was not a shocking news item. I think everyone collectively sighed, “That is so China.”

The story was a story for (in my opinion) the simple fact that the woman lived in a very photogenic rubble heap.

Well, this is happening still. It is just odd and amazing.

Odd because it is not an evil, per se. The occupants of slum housing are not pushed into the street to find new digs. They are relocated. This is a travesty for social and family connections. Plus destroying the slums will allow for better sewage systems, cleaner streets, etc…(the list is really long). But, you are also erasing some culture. With new condo’s brings the loss of the old culture and a creation of the new one that shops at bigger stores.

The transformation is amazing because it is just that. Neighborhoods are transforming in the span of a few years. This makes a whole slew of people rich (from developers to the guy who watches the construction at night) but with the aforementioned human costs.

So who’s for making the streets nice and kicking out the poor shopkeepers?

I would side with development. But, and this is why the previous woman’s story was a headline, where are the property rights? Shouldn’t these slum inhabitants have a say? It’s hard to say, “No”. It’s also hard for these slums to stand up in a stiff wind.

China will ultimately side with development and let a few citizens remain forever vigilant, under the clause that they are “preserving culture”.

So this means my view will be blocked and the slums next to me will soon join me at the 22nd floor.

There view will be blocked as well.

Civil War

This is an addition to the last post.

This comes from the Xinhua News Agency (Monday 15 October), “It’s true that a two-party or multi-party political system is better than authoritarianism and dictatorship, but it by no means applies to [China].” Go figure.

Why?

Because, and this is a direct quote, “Look at what happened in Taiwan (province) and you will understand.” The author (unnamed) is referring to corrupt Taiwanese politicians and the social problems they have caused.

Why else should China avoid a multi-party system?

That’s it. The author favors one party rule because he/she fears corruption (corruption which was exposed by the free, paper-selling, press).

I too worry that one day, when the Communist party allows for a multi-party system, that corruption will start.

This article was found, translated, in the editorial section of the Shanghai Daily (a English, local, paper).

17th National Congress of the Communist Party of China

The last time the CCP gang met was five years ago (16th National Congress). This time they will talk about what they did last time and add some future goals.

Here are the big proposals:

1- Create an anti-corruption committee

2- Share, with more equity, all the money made from economic growth

3- Conserve culture and respect the pre-existing ones

4- Set higher GDP goals while restraining a ‘free-for-all’

5- Then they will all say “Hell No to Taiwan Independence!” in unison

The conference, publicly viewable for the first time ever, is broadcast live on most TV stations and the highlights are replayed incessantly. All newspapers have managed to get good pictures of the session in session with a big headline reading, “More Money for the Poor”, or something like that.

Here’s what it looks like:

More then 2,000 representatives are seated in front off a huge crossed hammer and sickle. The centerpiece is draped with red flags on both sides. A huge red glowing star sits at the top of the ceiling (reminds me of Logan’s Run) and from the star’s points a trail of glittery Christmas lights shine.

Of the seated, most are Communist party members while a slim majority represent different cultural factions (Tibetans, Southern tribes, etc). The Communist party members all wear nice suits with a red (or a shade thereof) tie. The other guests wear their traditional garb, from the ornate to the simple toga.

On television the cameramen make a point of focusing in on one ethnic group and then zooming out rapidly to show said minorities incorporated into the larger system (I am sure the same cameraman got his start taking pictures for US University brochures).

Then one speaker gets up and tries his hardest to tire the clapping hands of all the members. I am sure that everyone, no matter there political or social group, became sick and tired of clapping by the first hour. This part is boring. The swooping camera angles make it fun. That’s it.

In all the Communist party has set out to make a big ‘to-do’ list in which they let the public and minority groups watch. It’s a start. If everything gets done then that would be great.

Now it will become a question of when these goals can be properly checked of the list.

It’s Been too Long

It’s been about a month since I have posted here.Sorry.

The interlude was first due to overwork. When the work went away I couldn’t afford to access the Internet (This could be a lie. It costs about 10RMB for about 2 hours of good Internet time. It’s cheap but I may have been cheaper). When I was paid I was summarily dismissed for vacation. I imagine I could have written loads of stand-up prose with my free week. However, feeling compelled to travel, I traveled.

At the end of September my bank balance approached a low that would make an art student blush. I walked to and from work to save on bus fare and cooked noodles at home. This lasted for all off two days. Thankfully.

My new found friends supplied me with enough cash to survive and take the bus to work.

I didn’t rough it. I didn’t even come close. This small anecdote was only meant to excuse me for the lack of  written web logs.

National Day!

October 1st was national day. It was celebrated with fireworks, a bit of booze, traveling, and a good meal.

I didn’t do much on national day. I wasn’t in a festive mood. I had a cocktail with a t-shirt designer and his friend. Bored, I went home.

The following day I left for Nanjing.

I regretted it.

If you mention Nanjing to Chinese people they will give a patriotic shiver and rightfully recite the wrongs of imperial Japanese aggression. If you mention the city to Westerners they will give a far less convincing shiver and start comparing this and that to Hitler. Eventually US foreign policy is brought up. If the conversation lacks alcohol there will only be a few experts on hand, with alcohol every Westerner appears to have an advanced degree in 1900’s history.

Rereading the last paragraph I feel my meaning is lost. Nanjing has historical weight on its shoulders. This prompts Westerners and Chinese alike to discuss said history, then current politics. It seems Nanjing is stuck comparing and thinking. They have a large number of Universities in Nanjing and, from what I have seen, the highest concentration of bookstores in any Chinese city. I am not saying from there bloodied history comes bookstores. I am saying everyone who lives or visits there is compelled, at least once, to dwell on recent history and give a heavy sigh (Just a sigh you say. I didn’t see anything else.)

Anyways, Nanjing has a typical Chinese layout (tight streets, a few parks, and the handful of renovated historical tourist attractions). What Nanjing has that other cities don’t is tree lined streets and plenty of fried chicken stands. Both would be welcome additions to any city. The city still has ample walls left from the olden days. These walls, formally surrounding and protecting the city, are now half gone, have visible, and very old. They are pretty to look at as your cab tunnels through one at 60km/h. Other then that they would seem to just serve graffiti artists looking for a nice urban canvas (graffiti has yet to become cool here, however trend-setters are eagerly pushing it).

Nanjing is near Mt. Mufu. On it is the Ming tomb and Dr. Sun Yat-sen’s tomb. Owing to technology Sun’s tomb is massive and eye catching. The Ming tomb is simply old and had the chance to be exotic. It fails at inspiring a gasp of historical mystery that tourist pay money for because it has been renovated so many times that it seems Walt Disney was a raising star on Ming’s creative team.

Too bad.

I spent the nights with the large Cameroonian population. They were friendly and tried their best to make me see the merits of the city. They treated me to drinks and dinner. Friendship aside, I couldn’t be wooed.

Two nights was plenty of Nanjing. I arrived in Shanghai and I felt like placing my hand on the cab drivers knee and smiling to show him, through expression, my happiness at returning…home(?). If that sounds awkward then you haven’t heard me express extreme thankfulness in Chinese.

Friday Shanghai hosted the Yue music festival. Faithless (a band of some notoriety) was headlining. I attended as did every other ex-pat in Shanghai. It felt like a big club meeting in which the guest speaker failed to arrive and the musicians were forced to play all day.

It was fun.

The weekend after was a spent cleaning up, relaxing, and reading.

On Complainers

People who like to talk are annoying at times. People who like to complain can also wear on ones nerves. The few gifted individuals that can marry talking and complaining are a special breed.

At work, school, or a party the lonely ear is willing to let a talker talk for the sake of company. It’s not that every loner wants company. Company at times, is preferable to looking like awkward wallpaper.

When ready company is needed a stranded individual must make a gamble. They should be pressed to find a talker who likes to talk of things that have some interest or merit. Therefore, when searching for company, look for the older, more weather worn, faces. Generally they have a few good stories that have withstood the test of time.

However, in a crowd of youths and middle aged business professionals, decent company is rare. Unless of course you are interested in the trails of youth or fluctuating market values.

Still, something is better then nothing. Any conversation, no matter the pointless direction it’s heading, can be nodded through with little physical pain.

The pain of a conversation will increase dramatically if, the one talking, enjoys a good gripe.

Take the man I just met, Steve. Steve likes to talk. He has something to say about everything and everything is a complaint.

Complaints are generally founded on dislikes for certain people, things, or places. Most complaints stem from one persons deep anger about being miffed by another person.

When, trapped in a corner, nodding rapidly to a complaining talker you are stuck. If you were to upset the person in front of you just imagine the complaints that will be served against you to the next open ear. If you are pleasant to a complainer they will take you as a compatriot and tell you the history of their miserable life, career, or marriage.

You are trapped. Damned if you break his heart, damned if you don’t.

How does one disentangle themselves from this sort? The trick, in my opinion, lies in pretending to take the complaints to heart. If they curse a coworker you defend the person to your grave. Here they will step away. A complainer can’t have you spreading their complaints nor can they trust your character for you don’t share the same dislikes. They will back away. Maybe, if your lucky, with an apology.

Take Steve. He said, “I hate the company I work for….” what followed was so boring I dare not repeat it.

I simply told him that I have nothing but respect for your company and you. The next day Steve was telling another lonely ear about his woeful existence.

I was spared. But without a book and with 15 minutes to kill, I had nothing to do.

Teaching

My vacation is over. I started teaching yesterday.

I teach English to elementary school kids. The first graders don’t know a word. The fifth graders know more English then their Chinese teachers.

In the middle of all this I am charged with speaking to each grade for about half an hour at a time. I use a textbook, flashcards, and games to make the children pay attention.

Its not rocket science. It’s personality.

Some English teachers are amazing. They can stand in front of 30 squirming kids and command their attention and make them speak. Others awkwardly read from a book while the class is busy teasing each other.

I fall in the middle. I can’t help but to admire a good joke. Nor can I feel good if I didn’t teach a thing.

Some of the teachers I worked with and talked to break teaching down into a science. They give names and ratings to various games and teaching techniques. All seem fair. However, they are simply just describing a good teacher and what a good teacher does. That is a teacher who cares and has the energy to keep caring even when they don’t.

I work for an academy. The academy works to find schools that are willing to use their English teaching technique. The technique my academy uses can be boiled down to this: speak English to little kids until they can’t help but get it.

The schools, if keen, then have to ask the Shanghai municipality if its OK. The municipality, a PTA with money, has to then appeal to the Chinese government.

When class starts all these parties, including the parents, demand to observe the classes once every month.

Annoying as it may sound some English teachers can do with a little check.

The Chinese students are rather well behaved. In hallways and about on the school yard they stand in lines. However, each child bubbles with anticipation and can’t stand still. When their Chinese teachers come into sight they stand rigid and obedient. They all wear red scarves tied around there neck. It is patriotic. They take them off once they step past the school gate.

Teaching is tiring. It is also fun. It is also hard. It will take practice.

September 1st marked the start of the moon cake season. Or, in other words, Fall.

I woke up to fireworks. I went to bed with fireworks. Fireworks are supposed to, in theory, scare off all the ghosts. If you can’t afford fireworks you make a fire. This is all done outside of your building. Locals light off the small loud ones. Businesses light off the big loud ones.

I am graced with a firework show every night. Not bad.

September 1st also marked the first day the weather cooled. The hot, heavy, and wet heat lasted all summer and then disappeared with some rain and fireworks.

I found a place in Shanghai.

(Unedited, some stuff may be unclear yet)

I also found a roommate. His name is Phil and he is nice.

The place is in the Hong Kou district. If you looked it up on a map it would be north of the cities center. Getting downtown in a good cab costs 20 RMB.

The apartment is on the 22nd floor and its balcony looks over the Bund. Every building that has its own line of postcards can be seen from our rooms.

We have two bedrooms and rooms in between for dining, living, cooking, and washing.

Hutongs, or something like them, rest below our building. Looking down you can see their occupants walk, sit, eat and talk.

The area below is free from banks, major businesses, and chain banks and eateries. Instead it is a weave of streets that intersect rows of one story buildings. The buildings are dissected into store fronts that stretch about 15 feet. Each store front sells its own product. Each store is dedicated to one line of products or services. Whole store fronts are dedicated to the sale of towels while its neighboring store will sell all, and every kind, of bucket. Each street has at least one barber shop and at least two massage parlors.

Interestingly all of these streets seem to have the same types of store with the same products. Presumably business comes from a one block radius. I imagine a family’s bucket seller will be that family’s bucket seller forever.

In the back of these stores are the owners homes. Sometimes one can spy a lonely cot in the back with a small TV glowing next to the gas burner. It seems quaint. However, at other times, a train of kids flow from behind the curtain or sheet that separates store from home and one can see the floor that is the bed and the small TV playing cartoons.

In the morning these store homes are busy. Generally a woman will cook and her children will set up a table (no taller then one foot) in the store. They will eat one bowl of rice each and enjoy it by adding some green vegetable stew when their mother allows it.

As breakfast is cleared the morning coolness permits some work to be done but by noon everyone retreats into there stores and sleeps. The occupants of these Shanghai houses all seem to have a type of lawn chair that I have yet to see in the US or in other parts of China. It’s a recliner chair that is held together by rows of what seems to be bamboo. Walking through the streets in the hot midday, one must wake up the store owners as they laze in front of a quiet TV to buy water. Even the kids, in the shade knocking things together and trying to break rocks, are quiet.

Only the hard up are working these neighborhoods during the day. Poor guys mill around the streets looking to collect plastic bottles. Others patrol the streets on bikes and look for loose cardboard. They ring a loud bell to announce their approach so people can prepare to donate whatever boxes they may have grown tired of. I can here their bell on the 22nd floor as I wake up and as I fall asleep.

I can also hear our neighbor at night. He is a young boy whose mother thought it would be nice if he played the flute. My landlord (An ex-math professor of 70), who doesn’t speak a word of English, described the music the boy produces thusly: he put his finger to his ear and then contorted his face to show the grief of having just lost a family member. He has had to bear with it for 7 months as it turns out.

As 5 o’ clock arrives activity begins to spread in the neighborhood. A woman will start to do some laundry with a board and a bucket and another relative will chop up garlic while squatting and trying not to get cigarette smoke in his eyes.

By 6 o’ clock food vendors and other street hawkers will spread blankets on the side walk and sell their wares to the tired returning from work.

The street food is good but the utensils in which the food is prepared and then eaten with are filthy and washed poorly. It has made me sick but it has also been delicious.

Once everyone has ate and had a few beers the vendors pack their bags and the nightly games of cards and Mahjong end. The TVs are turned off, presumably because all the good shows are over, and the neighborhood pulls their recliners out into the street where they sit, gossip, drink, and watch their kids. By 11 o’ clock the family members fall asleep in the recliners or they drag bamboo mattresses out into the street to keep cool. At night one must be careful not to wake anyone. The old, and others who can’t sleep, walk around the block in their underwear, hands held behind there backs, slowly walking and smoking.

All this can be seen from the balcony if you had decent binoculars.

The above lacked good stories. It was just a description. The kind you can skip over in a book and not feel too bad about it.

I have plenty of stories. They will follow.