China: Coming to a place near you

If any of you feel far removed from that foreign land you see printed on the back of all of your products, I’m here to tell you that you shouldn’t. The Chinese population living outside of China itself is at least 40 million. And that’s not just in Asia, but 17% of Vancouver, 9% of Toronto, and 7% of Sydney is Chinese. Of if you want to talk economics, I can mention the dependence created by the Chinese running a $262 billion USD surplus (2007) or the $1.9 Trillion USD worth of Foreign Reserves (money other countries are borrowing from China). So whether we like the products or not, the influence they have in the world today is enormous.

Within the month I’ve had the chance to visit Chinatown Chicago, Philadelphia, Toronto and New York. New York was by far the biggest, with upwards of 700,000 Chinese living in Manhattan, Queens, and Brooklyn, combined. Now the home to those who have migrated, largely from Guangdong and Fujian provinces, they are the best place to buy cheap (sometimes you might wonder too cheap) stuff and the core parts of Chinese culture plopped right down there in lower Manhattan. (See video below)





Interestingly enough, like many words that we translate differently in English than Chinese, the word “Chinatown” in Chinese is 唐人街（“Tong Rin Geeya”). This literally “a market of the Tang Dynasty” (618 to 907 AD), considered the Golden Age of China. The highpoint of culture, largest landmass yet to be conquered (slightly smaller than present day China), movable block printing was discovered (1000 years before Gutenberg’s printing press) and during the lifetime of the famous philosopher, Confucius. Though not totally clear to me, my gut tells me the name is such as to promote the highpoint of Chinese culture around the world.

Speaking of promoting Chinese culture around the world. Are you interested in learning more about Chinese history, culture, cooking, or even taking the dive into some Chinese language classes? It just so happens there is a foundation called Confucian Institutes which have been created for those very purposes. Funded by the Chinese government, these institutes are now worldwide. The only one I have visited so far was in my hometown of West Lafayette, home of Purdue University and almost 1000 Chinese students! Classes were only offered a couple times a week, but further involvement in the Institute included a relationship with a local school corporation to teach Chinese in elementary schools.

Its not just Chinatowns and China 1 Buffets anymore, but as businessmen, students, professors, tourism, you name it. I even met a Chinese teenager on a train to Beijing a few months ago whose purpose in going to the US was to join the US Army! (can he even do that?!).

Now for a little test, where its your turn to differentiate between China and Chinatown. Look at the pictures below and try to decide if I took in the US/Canada or in China. Good luck!

A bird’s eye view of McCain’s turf

ok, so I’m not going to take advantage of this time to rip apart either of the presidential candidates, my complaining isn’t going to change anything. I actually got to see Senator Obama a few days ago at a rally in north Philly. I frankly was inspired by my first attendance of a political rally to see how excited people can get about getting who they believe is the right person in to a particular position. So how is this blog political, its not but just to say that I’m registered to vote, and will do so absentee while I’m in China, if you want to know who I voted for and why, feel free to contact me.

What I do want to do is to share with you an amazing glimpse of an amazing city, or rather cities, that McCain calls his home, or homes. Phoenix, which to me seemed to be more of a city of ‘burbs than anything else, was a very attractive location with much variety. Not only does it rarely get below 40 in the dead of winter, but even the heat (it was mid-90s during my visit) didn’t feel hot at all because of the dryness. Not to mention the wide streets, picturesque sunsets, and clean air that Chinese would die for. I also realized a reason why so many older retired people spend the end of their lives there. Apart from avoiding the cold winters, word on the Arizona street says that the hot weather helps with thinning one’s blood that has health benefits. My favorite part was the several small mountains/large hills, that took no more than 8-10 minutes to walk up to where you could see the whole metropolis area. At the top, my friend, Austin, gave me a grand explanation of all the peaks, parts of “the Valley” and even Geronimo’s favorite hideouts.

On one day my sister and I decided to make the two-hour drive up to Flagstaff, up thousands of feet in elevation with a lush variety of desert, pine forest and everything in between. Great for skiing in the winter (2nd most snow of any American urban area) and filled with a hiker’s dream in the other months. All you Columbia brand fans and REI frequenters (like Gander Mountain) would be right at home. Not to mention the very strong New Age influence in many of the clothing boutiques and bookshops.

I quickly learned that Arizona should really be more affectionately named “the outsider state” as NO one calls Arizona there home (most people I asked were from Californians sick of the coast, retirees, and those form all over the US attracted by the amazing weather). Its population is supposed to double by 2030. After doing a little more research, in Phoenix, there were 35,000 residents between 2006 and 2007, second fastest growing city in the US (nothing compared to the mass migration of tens of millions in the US, but who can compete with China when it comes to quantity anyway). I mean we are are talking about a city which by 1900 still wasn’t even among the 100 most populous cities.

After just 4 days in Arizona, I definitely understand why its growing the way it is. I’ve never been a proponent of people moving anywhere just because they like the weather, but you might want to check it out. My sister and her friend both found a large availability and higher paying jobs than they ever did in the MidWest. And if things go well for Republicans in the next month, you might even be the recipient of a few “pork-barrel” benefits from being in the Presidents home state. Or then again, the fact that McCain raves against that each time he talks, maybe you won’t.

I propose: “Chinican”

Not sure what’s coming in your mind when I say that. The first time I said it I thought of “Heineken”, but its coined t to be more like “Chinglish” (“CHINese and EngLISH” which is a direct translation of a Chinese into English, often quite humorous), a term understood very well by any foreigner living in China.

During my couple months back in the States I’ve had the privilege of going to about a half dozen Chinese restaurants, primarily buffets in Indiana. Furthermore, fresh out of hearing about Chinese food programs on TV during the Olympics every friend I’ve gone out to Chinese with has realized the lack of Chinese authenticity in Chinese restaurants in the US. In order to educate this growing number of culturally-sensitive Americans, I am writing this blog post. And for me, after being in mainland China for a year not only are they reminiscent, somewhat, of most everything I ate this last year, but they are a great venue for practicing my Chinese!

But before we go around hastily labeling what this “Chinican” food is, I’d like to present an amateur, non-chef perspective on Chinese food and then you can judge for yourself whether the title is appropriate. So, here’s some facts about most food and how it is served in China:

• Contains large amounts of oil
• Often cooked with hot peppers, garlic, ginger and salt
• Instead of being marinated or added at the beginning in order to cook in the food, most spices are added a few minutes before they are done cooking
• Is not baked, actually most Chinese have never used an oven! (but maybe the reason for our high carbohydrate/sugar diet, lets just say I’ve never seen the label “low-carb” in China)
• Is diced into much smaller pieces
• Is served on a single plate, heaped in such a fashion that all but the most professional chopstick connoisseurs spill at bit on the table
• Has very little sugar (a very bad fit for my sweet tooth)
• Rice served after all the hot and cold dishes and only eaten as a filler, if someone is still hungry. Its never mixed with any other dishes spices but eaten straight (and for the record I’ve never seen “fried” rice in China, surprised?)
• Soup, usually water based, at the end of the meal serving as most of the liquid for the meal since the teacups usually can hold 2-3 oz.
• All food is served by what we call “family style” (too bad that’s not what most families in this country to anymore) which people eat by using their own personal chopsticks
• Comes directly from the kitchen and is cooked up right after you order, none of this buffet sitting out for hours stuff

The majority of Chinese restaurants in the US are owned by people from the provinces Fujian and Guangzhou, both southern provinces, with different food varieties than the north. But to be fair, they do adapt to what American like, I mean I’ve never seen jello, shortbread, pudding (tapioca, vanilla, or chocolate), ice cream, sprinkles, brownies, crab cakes, deep-fried egg rolls, fried rice, anything as deeply fried as Sweet and Sour Chicken, egg drop soup (there’s one fairly similar which also contains tomato), orange slices, canned pineapple, sliced watermelon, bananas with sugary coating, or fortune cookies EVER at a Chinese restaurant while in China.

And just for the record, after a little digging online, a word about fortune cookies:
Originally Japanese before it was sampled in a Chinese restaurant in Los Angeles during World War 2. After that time, it began spreading rapidly across the US. For the detailed account of fortune cookies, see http://www.fortunecookiechronicles.com/2008/01/16/how-did-japanese-fortune-cookies-end-up-in-chinese-restaurants/.

This article is not meant to criticize, change or even poke fun at Chinican food. Simply an educational article in order to look for some more authentic restaurants or foods when you’re at a Chinese place. And while you’re at it, why don’t you be friendly to the next Chinese waitress you see and greet her by saying “Knee How” (English phonetics), how she’s used to be greeted in her home country. So even if the food isn’t quiet authentic she can at least feel a little more like she's back in her home country.

When YOU’re the one stopping traffic

Ok, well a continuation of the bus story below is actually more on the positive side. I ended up getting to Chicago on an Amtrak train a few hours later than planned.

For those of you ignorant, like me for the first 24 years of my life, and might never have taken a train, or any form of public transportation for that matter if your from the ‘burbs or a smaller town, allow me to enlighten you. After probably close to 100 train rides during my 1 year in China I want to share with you some differences to see how behind, or in some ways just different, the trains are in the US compared with China. I was initially only going to state the negatives in America’s train system, but after looking around I realized there were some things to be proud of as well.

It can’t compete with China because it…
• Putters along on the rickety train, not possibly going more than 25 maybe 30 mph. Doesn’t have much on the 260 km/h train in a few place in China!
• One train the whole day with a total of 4 cars, compared with many cities in China that have dozens going to the same destination each train holding approximately 1500 passengers

• Not able to buy tickets in the station and have to reserve them by calling ahead or going online

• Doesn’t have to slow down in towns and stop for 45 on end when there is “congested on the tracks” (build some more track for crying out loud!)

• No postings as to when the train leaves/arrives (although the old man on the cell phone with the conductor of the coming train was pretty cool)

• There’s no ultra-convenient “Air Sickness bags” (No joke) with the seat in front of you, fully to the task as trash bin, notepaper, or oh yeah, if you can get yourself “air sick” on a train it catches those blowing cookies like no other

But it does have…
• Conductors that see me as a person, not just another number, or job to be completed who won’t even look at you (like it is in China). On my trip to Chicago the conductor actually told me I had to have a reservation or I’d have to pay more money. To which he responded, not getting mad or asking me for the full price, but rather initially telling me a number to call and then just calling it himself, making a reservation, and charging the reservation price that is $13. Now that’s American customer service!

• Pillow for each and every seat

• Emergency and Handicap accessibility, something unheard of in China

• Luggage racks above the seats that were easily twice as tall as those in China

• More space than I knew what to do with! One guy on the train layed across the two seats (see picture). Only half the car filled, if that (much different than my experiences in China during Chinese New Year: See picture!)

• Power outlets (120 V!) for my laptop so I can type this blog and still be charging my battery!

• More diversity of passengers than I’ve ever seen on any train in China (easy to notice since everyone wasn’t staring at me)

• Views of the forest and farmland of Indiana at a comfortable pace, the first time in my 24 years of life in the US - priceless!

So before you travel to a destination within a few hours, before mindlessly jumping in your gas-guzzling SUV where you’ll probably spend $100 at the pump this weekend, why not consider a ride with Amtrak! Cheaper than a ride in your car, reliability that even though its not flawless trumps Greyhound every day of the week, and I’ll guarantee right now, they will be plenty of space for you!

And the best part of all: Going through towns where you’re not the one stopping when the railroad gates go down over the road, but you’re the one stopping traffic!

Greyhound gets another strike

I rolled out of bed a few minutes before 5, groggy and not happy to be getting up so early when I didn’t really need to be Chicago so early in the morning. But I was flexible with my schedule in order to catch the 5:45 AM bus. I arrived a half hour early because I knew I had to buy a ticket and when I had been at a Chicago station the month before there was a line. As I walked up to the lobby of the station it didn’t look very promising, no cars in the parking light and absolute silence. I pulled on the handle, wet as it was damp from the morning dew. Nothing happened. I said goodbye to my friend and told him that I’d call if there were any problems. After 15 minutes of waiting, another guy pulled up in his car and waited along with me. It was 5:45, 5:55, 6:05. He went and checked another street where he found a city bus. He asked that driver about a Greyhound bus and he said “Oh yeah, that pulled out about 20 minutes ago up there on 3rd street!”

3rd street! For some reason due to the bus not being able to turn around very easily, the bus decided to stop a couple blocks totally out of view of the current station. There was no sign about lobby hours, change of location, even a number to call if there were any problems. I even tried calling the Greyhound station in Chicago and what was I told? Nothing because they never picked up the phone. Frustrated I told my friend to come back and pick me up because I had “missed” or rather, never seen, the bus. The only saving grace about that experience was that knowledgeable of Greyhound's less then stellar track record, I didn’t book the ticket online, so I wasn’t out any money, just a few hours of sleep and inconveniencing my friend.

It wasn’t until an hour later when I returned to the same station, (shared by Amtrak, there was a train up to Chicago) that I found out that day was the first day that Greyhound was stopping their lobby service in Lafayette. “Oh, why that’s convenient to know”, I thought. Sure enough as I entered the station I saw a sign inside the building about 4 x 6 inches saying “Greyhound buses are boarding on Third Street until further notice”. Next time. Well maybe there won’t be a next time. I’ve now lost all confidence in Greyhound to deliver service, punctuality or certainty of having a seat. If I do have to travel long distance and flying is too expensive in the future I’ll either go Amtrak or Megabus-a new express and cheap bus service that opened a few years back.

“If I was in China this NEVER would have happened! I’d be lining up, or mobbing, behind 500 people waiting to get my ticket punched, down the platform and onto the train. And if I ever miss it, in 30 minutes time there’s bound to be another train/bus going the same place.

Oh well, just over 3 weeks and I’ll be back in the land of bike armadas perusing the streets, cattle chute train station lines, early morning taiqi in the parks, and color-enhancing pollution-sure to take any uneventful journey on the road and turn it into a ride through exhaust pipe (the picture was taken after a 3-hour leg of a weekend bike tour in China). 中国加油！

a peek into the life of an International student…in America

“Wo bu zhi dao, shi zai na li,” (in English meaning:”I don’t know where it is”) was the speech I heard from a tall, Chinese-looking student on the phone as he was walking down the sidewalk on Purdue’s campus. Somewhat taken aback because I felt as if I was back in China, I intentionally shortened my strides a bit. I gathered that he was on his way to the library but didn’t know where it was. After he got off the phone I asked him if I could help him and then, speaking Chinese asked where he was from. In hearing the Chinese he quickly taken aback and asked if I spoke Chinese (always a funny question given I just spoke a couple lines of Chinese to him). After helping direct him to the right place on campus, after talking to this guy for less than 5 minutes, I was asked for my phone number so we could hang out some time. Interested in finding opportunities to speak Chinese myself, I gladly gave it to him, but mentioned I was going to leave the area in just a few days.

Luckily the next day I wasn’t very busy, so we were able to connect with him in the afternoon. We talked for quite a while in his new apartment, absolutely bare except for his laptop (within his first 4 days in the US he had already bought a new one since the US is the cheapest place in the world to buy them, please friends, no complaining), a bag of Oreos, and an opened suitcase filled with clothes and food from his hometown, in Jilin province in Northeast China. It was an apartment for 3, but since classes didn’t start for a few more days, both of his roommates, whom he hadn’t the slightest notion who they would be, still had not arrived. As we began talking it wasn’t too long before he attempted to turn on the air conditioner, quickly asking me what a reasonable temperature was since he had never heard of Fahrenheit before. Also before we left his apartment he was sure to give me several plastic packages of dried squid (not fresh of course, but dried, salty and crunchy fishy-flavored goodness) and a few small Mooncakes. Both of these were special foods from his hometown in China that his mom, like any Chinese mom, or as I think about it any mom anywhere, would give his son before he takes off to the other side of the world.

Jack was only a sophomore college student abroad for just one semester. Studying architectural design, this opportunity he had to study in the US was possibly once in a lifetime. One that he said he would take advantage of by seeking to understand more of American’s open-mindedness and views about the world. One where he’d travel from East coast to West coast, visiting landmarks and buying what he deemed to be better quality technological and acoustic equipment for his band. Ultimately though I was seeing by all the uncertainties and questions on his mind, a step into the unknown.

I glanced at his class schedule filled with abbreviations which was all Greek to him. So, I offered a few words of wisdom on the classes that might be more difficult or rather simple. Then he asked about the computer he bought online and whether or not he had to call the company after it was delivered to him. That’s what you do in China, he had no idea if you did the same here. I listened to him and a group of other Chinese students that evening share their fears about how they talk to Westerners. What if they don’t understand what I’m trying to say? What if I totally miss the meaning of their answer? What about all that slang they use? Do they really laugh after everything they say and is it really that funny? Language especially is a very difficult thing that I didn’t personally realize how fast, culturally-specific, and idiom-filled it was until I was in China and began speaking to my American friends while my Chinese friends were present. Even someone who speaks fluent English but hasn’t been in an atmosphere of those who speak like college students do, might not have a clue what the meaning is. And when they don’t how encouraging are we as Americans to move to that person’s level and explain it in words that person will understand?

We talked for a couple hours, first in Chinese and then both realizing his English was better than my Chinese, in English. We talked about life, sports, food, technology, and faith. Honestly, not too much unlike my time in China except with the roles reversed. Instead of my Chinese friends wanting to look after me to make sure I knew where things were and that I was safe, I felt the same kind of responsibility for him. It was amazing to me as I pondered, “This guy is coming over here taking classes just like any other freshman here at Purdue. He’s got a class schedule, orientation, apartment, and buying books and gadgets just like I was my first year at college. He isn’t really that unique anymore. That’s just part of what society looks like today. And yeah, why not go travel and see different sights of interest in the US, maybe it’ll be his only chance.”

He is one of 800 Chinese students at Purdue and one of tens of thousands that comes over every year, or every 4 years since many attend all 4 years in the US. And though China is the largest country with possibly the most students, there are dozens of other countries with similar motivations and programs.

We also went back to my friend’s house to hang out for a while and Jack’s curiosity in the house included anything and everything. All the pictures and awards on the wall, couches on which we sat, and size of…well, everything. Jack was lucky, in the fact that he had been in the US for less than a week and had already been in an American home. Something the majority of students never get to see in the 4 or more years in which they study in America.

I couldn’t help but think how many more “Jack”’s there were around the world. Students who were leaving their home countries and cultures in search of a better education and way of life in the West. You here how common it is today and that over 80% of Chinese students who come over to work/study never return. But what effect does that have on the economy? I’m sure it pushes, or should push, the average American to be more dedicated in their studies since the competition gets stiffer, especially in disciplines of hard sciences and technology. Its great that students from abroad are coming here, working in Western companies, and primarily benefiting our economy. But it almost doesn’t seem fair to their home countries. Isn’t it great that many people desire to come to my home country of the US for under- and post-graduate studies. When might come a time when there will actually be better opportunities educationally and vocationally in one’s home country?

And what should our response be as Americans to this? And as a child of the King? Will we welcome them with open arms and share our culture and lives with them or will we have feelings of competition or anger for the jobs they might take or awards they will win. I’m not trying to open a huge can of worms or suggest any real changes that should be made. I am hinting that the America of the 21st century will truly become a continually larger global society. I’m also pointing out the realities of what life is like for one, “Jack”, and many others who leave their home countries in search of a brighter future elsewhere. Will they find that future that gives them that much sought after joy and satisfaction? Or only be in a neverending competitive fight with the next one who’s smarter and richer. In so doing sacrifice much in familial, relational, and social aspects of life that they will look back and say 50 years from now, despite the increased material rewards, and say that it actually wasn’t really worth it? And what impact will you have in them going through that process?

When all hope seems dashed… Olympic Torch Relay

Everyone knows the tradition of the Olympic torch passing through many
cities on the way to its final destination and beginning of the games.
Today my friends and I had the chance to go see it in.

Knowing that big crowds are anything but rare in urban China and how
excited everyone is about the Olympics, I was prepared to not get the
best seat in the house (I mean “by the street”) this morning when I
only left an hour before the torch was supposed to pass by. But after
walking outside my house and turning I saw the 2nd of 3 barricades
where officers of the law would not allow anyone to pass. Even at this
point we were 100+ meters from the road where the torch would be
carried.

We soon learned that the only people they allowed through were those
that arrived before 6 AM (although most arrived by 4 AM) and had an
official company registered team or volunteer status. Having arrived
well after 6 AM and with none of these credentials, even the most
flowery Chinese language and jokes I could come up with wouldn’t
budge those in charge.

After about an hour and failing to get through 3 different barricades,
we despairingly headed back for our apartment. Then, just as we were to
enter our apartment’s gate we noticed a stream of people running
through the 2nd barricade towards the torch route! We joined hundreds
of others in this mass movement of people as we hurried through the
barricade and dipped under a couple more pieces of caution tape before
reaching the street. We were delighted to have gotten so close to the
street and soon looked anxiously for the arriving motorcade.

As we were waiting for the torch, I was personally disappointed that
despite the hoards of people with flags, headbands, and Olympics
regalia galore, there wasn’t any kind of cheering. Bound to fix the
problem, I leaned over to my friend and asked if he thought I should
begin a cheer. As I weighed my options: the amount of staring and
humiliation I might bring upon myself if the cheering failed, I quickly
realized: “I already stand out like crazy in this mass of people and
I frankly don’t care what these people think about me.” I then
quickly proceeded to let out my loudest “Zhong Guo…JIa You”
(literally “China, Add Oil”). Within a matter of about 20 seconds I
had a huge group of Chinese around me echoing my cry of “Zhong Guo”
and a lot of entertained fans!

In a few minutes time, the torch came and went and that was it. A great
experience of cheering on the home country in preparation for the
Olympics in just 6 days!

For specifics on the torch relay se: http://torchrelay.beijing2008.cn/en/

China's Ramen

Everyone’s heard of Ramen noodles and knows that it’s a hit with college students that are needing a cheap filling meal or a midnight energy boost to finish a paper. But what you might not know about is Ramen’s big brother in China: Fang Bian Mian (in Chinese), translated “Convenient Noodles.”

They sure are convenient too. At any train station or at the end of any train car is a large container of hot water always ready to turn the next bowl of dried noodles into a hot, tasty, nothing but carb snack. On the many train rides I’ve had the chance to take in the last 10 months, it didn’t take me long to notice that whether its lunch, dinner, or even breakfast the food of choice is always Fang Bian Mian.

One of the most telling influences that Fang Bian Mian has on China is evident in its grocery stores. Filled from the top shelf to the ground on the better part of an aisle, the myriad of rainbow colors of all the different boxes is quite a sight.

The ready-to-eat variety usually packaged in paper bowls approximately the size of one very large, cereal bowl, is a noodle block usually enough for a whole meal. Coming in many different tastes (meat and vegetable flavors) and varieties (the purple one I had last time made me drink a liter of water), there’s always a new type to try. When opening Fang Bian Mian, the most surprising thing is probably the inclusion of a small fork, rather than chopsticks. Though initially a major shock to me, especially given the fact that forks are next to never available at restaurants, I realized that given the diameter of the bowl, the 3-pronged fork was the way to go. The image on the outside packaging is quite deceiving as there isn’t actually fresh meat or vegetable inside, but plenty of salty sauces, noodles, and artificial flavorings to keep anyone’s tastebuds on full alert.

Ocean Bound

So, myself and an Australian, Canadian, Chinese, and one other American friend got up last Friday morning and left at 7 on what was supposed to be a 550 km (about 400 mile) round trip ride to an ocean resort city and back. We were fully prepared with our "Zhongguo jia you" (literally "China: add oil", which is what fans cheer during sporting events and translates loosely as "Go China"). After getting through an hour of rush hour traffic and missing our first turn, we had our first repair of the trip (a couple screws had popped off the the front wheel). Luckily we had just the right thing to fix it, paper clips! It did the trick in minutes and though it was somewhat disheartening to already be fixing a busted bike, we continued on in full spirits. It was the first of only two repairs during the trip. The forecast had said it was supposed to be 100 degrees that day and we started to feel it by mid-morning. It wasn't the ride we had quite expected, with several big trucks flying by us every minute, sometimes dropping stones, coal, or other remains from the bay of the truck (truck drivers over here don't know anything but filling their bays to the brim, and then some).

By lunch the second day with our bottoms thoroughly sore, foreheads caked in dirt, and numerous body parts aching in pain; one of the gang planted a very tempting idea in our minds. "What if after getting to our destination tonight we don't turn around and get up the next morning at 7 to ride back, but take the train back the next day instead?" It didn't take very long for the rest of us to jump on board and soon we were filled with hope during the rest of that day's ride, as we knew it would be our last. The last part of our trip was the highlight, as we rode along a beautiful, yet still not completed, highway along the beach, where the temperature fell to the 50s and mist
surrounded us all. We felt like we were in some kind of video game as the cloudy, misty glaze fell over our us, creating a mystical atmosphere. We continually had to move back and forth to the sections of the road that were already completed and tried to ignore the inquisitive stares from the construction workers (not an unusual phenomenon for us by now). The second night concluded with being rejected by a half dozen hotels, who for some reason didn't want to give lodging to foreigners. Then, after a little bargaining, our 24-hour, 2-day bike trip covering 200 miles came to a close.

The last two days were much less uneventful, as we put our bikes to rest and enjoyed seeing a few sights and exploring the coast on our own. It was fun to be able to spend some time getting to know the guys and giving each other a hard time about all of our different English accents. Traveling alongside people in the countryside gave me a better glimpse of the sights, sounds, and smells of what is experienced there. It made me appreciate the life in the city, away from the beaming hot sun all day long, where farmers have little to no equipment to farm. It made me appreciate cars and the privilege we have to drive in comfortable, convenient conditions, without getting covered in dirt from head to toe.

Emperors Exert Their Power

It was a usual day playing our Friday afternoon game of basketball. The
weather was considerably warmer, so outside joining us around the
basketball court was a group of a half dozen 6 and 7-year old boys
playing with their cards, guns and dirt. Given the ample places to play
around the basketball court, we didn't consider starting a full-court
game of basketball to be a problem. Even after an hour and a half of
playing (being occasionally careful to avoid the little ones) there was
really no problem (though there were several close calls. Then, on one
breakaway, there was a little boy who stepped right in the way of a big
guy as he was backpedaling and fell down. Everybody was ok, but boy
that little kid was furious. He got up and started frantically yelling
and swinging his right arm round and around as fast as he possibly
could. I didn't hear until later that he was also giving some choice
words to these guys at least 3 times his age.

At that point, all of us playing basketball were in a tough position
because we felt bad for the kid, but their moms were right there
watching us play and didn't ever tell the kids to be careful. The kid
was also so mad at us he probably would have gone ballistic if we tried
to comfort him. So after several minutes of not much happening, and one
of the mom's suggesting we play half court. It was the most indirect
situation I've ever seen with no one saying anything or really doing
very much, just kind of shrugging their shoulders and not sure if they
should change their game and comply or just continue playing as before.

I finally stepped in and decided we better comply and play half-court.
As we took a few minutes to regroup and split up into smaller teams,
the situation went from weird to absurd. The kids understood which side
of the court was theirs and they began to play. But quickly they
lost interest in their own fun and took more delight in getting revenge
on the evil basketball players who were taking over their kingdom. They
ran over to the side of the court and began taking the clumps of grass
and dirt and throwing them onto our court. After it was too dirty to
play in we moved back to the other side of the court. To which the
kids, predictably, by now, responded by littering that side of the
court with grass clumps as well. We soon realized the hopelessness of
the situation and stopped playing altogether.

I was appalled at their behavior and the grins on their face, but even
more so by the lack of discipline from their moms who were watching
them from a very close distance the entire time. They didn't have any
sense of responsibility for their kids' behavior, and even seemed to
take joy in the actions of their children!

It was at this moment that I realized what the term "little emperor" and
this new "Me Generation" looked like. Complete disregard for what might be
the right way to act or treat others, and total indulgence into one's
childish nature of anger, whining, and revenge. These children are the ones
being served and they are not learning the word "no". Parents only have one
child, so their desire to give their "little emperor" anything he wants is
great and to punish him too severely is dangerous. My friends all agreed that
they were spoiled and needed to learn some lessons, but no one was taken
aback as much as I was by the situation. They know that's just what kids
are growing up like these days. But, "What are these kids being taught?" I ask.

That I'm not sure, but I am sure if they continue in their behavior, they will
have a tough "reign" ahead of them. 

There's No Place Like Home

Where are you from? In America this can sometimes be answered quickly and other times takes people 10 minutes to explain all the places they have lived and why they could call several of them "home".

Not so in China. The dozens of times I've asked people where they are from, they give me an answer without any hesitation. Though they might be going to a university in a different city than which they grew up, they will undoubtedly tell you that where their parents and extended family live is their home.

Why is that? Its not just because that's where one is most comfortable living, but it all comes down to your hukou. A hukou is like a residence permit that allows people to live, work and study in a specific city, but makes living in another city difficult. Furthermore hukous are required for most companie's housing stipends, insurance, medical coverage, and school attendance. To give you an idea of how important it is to obtain a hukou in the right area, a recent survey asked 3000 graduates whether they would rather have a salary of $14,000 USD/year (very high by Chinese standards) or have a Beijing hukou. Over 2/3rds of them answered they'd rather have the Beijing hukou.

Considerations for applying for a hukou in another province include:
1. College major and grades
2. Where one finds a job in a given city
3. Age (one province made it mandatory the person be under 45 in order to apply)
4. Amount of taxes a certain business has paid in the last 3 years

Like any system of this nature, there are of course a number of other details that I have not come to fully grasp. For example, there are ways to obtain temporary residence permits (necessary for a person or business to come somewhere in the first place and reside for 3 years).

Furthermore, anyone with an understanding of the kind of mass migration that is taking place in China right now is right in assuming all of the people moving from the rural areas to the cities don't necessarily have registered hukous. Just like immigration in the US from other countries, there are certain economic considerations that make the immigration of people who are willing to work for low wages desirable for a city. Jobs of street cleaner, construction worker, and trash man are some of the most common. Its no surprise to me as I look down any street and see people doing these jobs that the number of non-hukou residents in China is in the range of 120 million and continuing to rise.

Of course like anything in life, there are very good reasons why the systems in place are there. The reason I am often given is that if the migration of people in China isn't controlled, the problem will only get worse. This problem of overpopulation didn't truly make sense to me until living here and trying to go anywhere at 5:00 in the evening. Now I understand the magnitude of the problem.

And what does the system result in? Among other things, one positive result is in people who stay more closely connected to and a greater appreciation of the saying, "There's no place like home." A concept that, due to the freedom and economic opportunities in other places, is becoming more and more foreign to the Western mind.

Intellectual Property and Pirating

Despite an article I recently read in a scholarly economic magazine
about there being more of a crackdown on protecting business'
intellectual property, I see a very high degree of apathy towards the
subject, especially here in China.

As example, I bought a fairly expensive program for my Palm Treo that
has A Chinese Dictionary and character recognizer on it. After showing
the program to a few of my Chinese friends, the obvious question was
(like always), "How much did it cost?" Of course, I told them home
much it was and they promptly were taken aback by its cost and told me:

"Chinese don't have enough money to buy that program." Then, my
more tech-savvy friend responded: "I could find that same thing
online for free!" To which, he went online and sure enough, 5 minutes
later showed me a program with similar features downloaded all for
free! He then said that everything on his phone was also free programs!

Then just a few days later, I was talking with another friend who had a
friend in an African country that had a great idea for export! He could
take an electronic device from a brand-name company, not put the
trademark on it, and sell it in this country for much cheaper. Of
course the big advantage for him was that because it would be imported
as a "no name" brand, it would avoid all of the larger import
duties on name-brand products!

Whether its iPods, Nike Swooshes, or DVDs, SO many things in this
country are pirated. Its even hard to find shops in this country that
sell anything BUT pirated DVDs. That has led me to not buy anything
pirated, therefore any DVDs at all. But even not buying any DVDs
doesn't prevent me from watching the dozens of pirated DVDs my
roommates own.

Sure, I understand the vast majority of people in this country don't
have the money to pay for the kind of software program I just bought
(often the justification I hear). But does that justify every
occurrence of successfully pirated product? Is that just the way this
country works and I shouldn't feel guilty about it because everyone
does it?

Or in the macro sense is the incessant duplication of anything good
actually bad for the economy since it discourages that entrepreneurial
spirit one has to come up with something new? Why don't you just wait
for the "first movers" to make thousands of mistakes in order to
come up with a few dozen things that work. Then, just copy those
products that have proved to be successful and avoid all that trouble
of trying to see if a new product will be successful or not? I don't
know if there is a black and white answer, because even in the US
you've got illegal burning of CDs going on in everyone's CD burner.

Its just another one of those considerations to go into when we
actually look at what we are consuming, its legally, and what effects
it has on the economy. There is one thing that is for sure, most
everyone who is reading this article does have enough means to buy the
real thing and should think a few moments before we just always buy
whats best on our pocket books in the short-term. And I'll join you
in asking those questions a little more honestly of myself too.

Michael who?

Though Michael Jordan still regularly appears on Gatorade bottles (a recent picture I took), posters, and top of the line basketball shoes, the future of American dominance of the Chinese basketball market is in jeopardy. Already with recent stars of Yao Ming on the Houston Rockets and rookie Yi Jian Lian on the Milwaukee Bucks, Chinese basketball's popularity and talent is rapidly increasing.

Given not all Chinese have the natural build for basketball. Case in point, I have always been a shooting guard growing up. But now that I have grown a little to 6'1' and live in China, I am always the big center that gets many of the rebounds (needless to say my inside game is a little rough given I've never played in the post before). But though the average Chinese is definitely shorter than the average
American, I have played against, and seen many more, people who are definitely taller than me.

I've heard on order of 400 million basketball enthusiasts here (and I'd believe it given the amount of streetball I see everywhere!), So with a number of followers like that, well more than the American population, why isn't China turning out more Yao MIngs? My answer is threefold:

-Its Youth: I was struck when playing basketball with a college student recently and he told me he has been playing for 3 years, to which I had to be honest and say, I'd been playing for 18!

-Its Organization: I almost never see organized teams or coaches to have athletes play together. It always pickup streetball, which hurts their understanding of "team ball"

-Its Model: NBA. That's all people here watch! Their fundamentals suffer for it! Television now shows 4 games a week and recently, much to my delight, even been adding an NCAA game in the mix!

The latest in the growth of the Chinese basketball market, the takeover of Chinese Basketball Association by NBA just two months ago. Sure to be the first step before the NBA as was the case for Yao Ming and Yi Jin Lian, the CBA has almost no following among Chinese and could use a big boost! (Article: http://www.usatoday.com/sports/basketball/2008-01-14-698984466_x.htm)

So, even Yao Ming's injury last week, possibly keeping him out of the Olympics, may not be such a catastrophe after all. Maybe its just the opportunity for many future Yaos to step up and give Chinese basketball a name for themselves! There's one thing Americans still have: I still haven't seen any Chinese that can match Shaq's frame inside! Keep bringin the McD's!

Wat?

The first person we met on our 16-hour hard-seat overnight train ride
was a young Thai man in his mid-20s named Wat. He seemed to be as high
and out of touch with reality as anyone I've met. Wat incessantly
spoke the simple English words he knew and offered my friend and me all
of his goodies. Wat warmly welcomed my friend and me onto our 16-hour
overnight train ride where we quickly learned that he had no home
(since he's lived so many lives), no parents, and appeared to have
nothing to turn to except for his 5 bottles of beer and whiskey and the
bowl from which he smoked numerous substances. ("Wat" we later learned is
the Thai word for a Buddhist temple.)

When I looked into Wat, I saw what looked on the outside so much like
one of my friends from home, probably with the same desires, motivations, and fears. But I couldn't help but be saddened by the lies he believes that have penetrated his heart to bring him into the situation that he is in today. Alone, confused, disillusioned, and filling that void with all that he knew could: alcohol.

In the middle of the night I noticed Wat disappeared, along with the 5
bottles. And after a thorough search of the train in the morning, we
concluded he had been removed by train authorities from the car. The
question will always remain: What became of Wat?

Tasting Thailand's Tourist Trap

Taste. Starbucks Caramel Macchiatos, Dunkin Donuts Apple Fritters, Tex-Mex restaurents, Burger King Whoopers, Baskin Robbins ice cream, and 7-11 Slurpees (on every corner)! All of which I've never dreamed of the last 6 months were at my finger tips the last few weeks! To top it off, you can actually talk with people in ENGLISH whenever you want (or if you just flat out get lost)! Well, its not central Indiana or southern California. Its Thailand!

Much better than familiar tastes and restaurant signs though, were the
unique sites, including meticulously neat green rice paddies, gracefully
slothful water buffalo, and immensely clean blue water AND skies (both
of which were a sight to sore eyes). I was also warmly welcomed by
kind-hearted Thai men and women that help any group of tourists (no
matter how confused or incompetent).

But the biggest surprise to me was definitely the number of Western
tourists! Whenever I heard about the biggest industries in the country,
the one word I always heard was TOURISM! And tourism it was: riding
elephants, white water rafting, and even renting a motorbike for less
than $5 a day (if you want to know the story on that one ask me
later. Lets just say I have a few wounds that are still healing from
that one).

Now I've been to countries before where there is a mandate that every
business must have a picture of the current president somewhere in the
building. And, though a bit strange, it was quite normal compared to
what I saw with King Bhumipol Adulyadej, who has reigned in Thailand
since 1946. It seemed that literally everywhere I looked there was a
picture of the King! And not just a picture, but usually decorated with
ornamented frame and a shrine-like display. Because it's hard to make
such nice displays everywhere, the place I saw his picture most was on
the light pole banners located every 20 meters on the side of the road.
I guess when you are grateful for the work someone does it's appropriate
to show your appreciation, but this was appreciation on a whole new
level!

Tourists Running Late!

Last week, my 2 college friends and I spent a few days in Xi’an, the ancient capital city of China. On our last day we went to see the most famous landmark in the city, the Terracotta Warriors. The location, where in 215 BC Chinese Emperor “Qin” (from whom “China” got its name) had forced over 700,000 laborers to build this amazing display of individually handicrafted warriors. The purpose: to protect his body after his death. It also helped me realize the great development of society, and pride of man, that has existed for thousands of years.

After getting over the shock and awe of the sight, we hurried back to catch a taxi back to our hotel, since the bus there had taken twice as long as they had told us. The first 30 minutes of our ride went great! Until the taxi driver tried to turn onto the express highway only to realize that it is closed! At that point that taxi driver, fully aware of our deadline, turned to me and asked if we had the phone number of the hotel. He wanted to know if we could have our luggage delivered to the train station because we wouldn’t have enough to go there first before catching our 2:30 train. We not only had to make it to the station on time, but we had to ask our hotel to correctly find our 8 bags in a big luggage room, locate a car big enough to fit them, and make it to the train station to meet us all in the next 20 minutes!! This on top of the fact that train tickets aren’t refundable and who knows when we could find the next ticket to where we wanted to go.

Luckily, my friend had kept the phone number for the hotel and we quickly gave them a call and explained to them the situation. Their reaction, loosely translated into English was: “You’re asking us to do what?” After my friend described all 8 of our bags in fine detail, the taxi driver and van driver of the hotel agreed on a location, and the plans were set.

We arrived near the train station at 2:10, waited a few minutes and then found the hotel van which had every one of our pieces of luggage. By 2:20 we had driven closer to the entrance, grabbed our luggage, and run 5 minutes behind a short hotel employee. All this while stealthy dodging hundreds of Chinese bystanders on our way to the train station. I thought with 10 minutes to spare we had plenty of time to get through the train station and onto our train, that is, if this station had been like all the others I had been to. It wasn’t. As I gazed towards the entrance I realized an inordinately large number of people were standing idle in a wide, tightly-packed line with railings on either side. I thought to myself, “That’s it!” We came all this way just to wait in a line and miss our train!

Then, my determined mind took over. Without checking with my two friends behind me, I took off. I pushed through (I mean “politely making my way through”) person after person with my train ticket raised high attempting to politely say, “2:30 train ticket!” Next, I had no choice but to move a crowd barracade out of the way and receive a glassy stare from a policemen, who didn’t seem to know what to do or think. We finally got to the door, up the escalator and into the lounge.

Unfortunately, the train station was very crowded and hard to figure out, so I didn’t know where to go! I ran to a policeman to give him a look at my ticket. He gave me a confused expression and then blew his whistle to have a train station employee come show us where to go. The train hadn’t left, but what used to be the line had turned into a mob of lounging people waiting for the future trains. After pushing many more people, I gave the clerk my ticket. Knowing time was short and ground still to cover, I told one of my friends that I would “stop the train” (whatever that meant) while we waited for my other friend who was caught in Chinese traffic (a common theme in this story and many others in this country). When I finally ran down to the train platform I saw people still boarding the train so I knew we had made it! We ran past 11 more train cars and finally boarded the train with a whooping 3 minutes to spare!

Not exactly an experience I would like to have repeat, especially with several hundred dollars on the line. Not to mention that we fit the model of the most stereotypical tourists to a "T". Tall, white, long-nosed foreigner with North Face pack, seemingly no manners, and little knowledge of his surroundings or why he was taking so many bags with him. Never an image I like to present. But, a decent story for a blog and one I’ll probably never forget.