Drew and I are back in California! We got back on Wednesday afternoon, and we are slowly recovering from jet lag. In case you didn’t know, we were in China during the month of July. Drew’s research interest is China and he decided to supplement his study of the language with a trip to China so that he could practice in context. Fortunately, I have a job that I can do anywhere, and well, anywhere includes China. So we packed up and spent the month in Beijing. I could not access blogspot while I was there, so blogged at wordpress instead. You can read all about our travels at www.chriswithak.wordpress.com. Here are some brief thoughts about our trip:
This was my first time out of the United States, and it was quite an experience. Beijing was a modern city and it had the comforts of home. At the same time, it didn’t completely look or feel like home, which was a good thing. When I thought about where I wanted to go on my first trip out of the country, I knew it wouldn’t be Europe. I didn’t want to go somewhere that looked and seemed an awful lot like the United States. I guess I had always imagined that I would go to South America (mainly because it’s not Europe and because I can speak some Spanish), and I never thought my first overseas trip would be to Asia. But it was, and it was great.
One of the first things that I noticed is that Beijing is more poor and developing than the United States. Sure, there are poor areas in the U.S., but it seemed most of Beijing was poor. There were areas with tall and shiny buildings, but most areas were clearly impoverished. People rode old bikes and drove old cars- if they had any of these things at all. Cars, I might add; not SUVs, not Range Rovers, not mini vans, not Hummers, not gas guzzling vehicles that are excessively large and extravagant. I saw rows and rows of shacks where people lived, securing their tin roofs down with bricks.
Drew’s adviser said that Beijing is trying to be DC, Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, and Boston all rolled into one. I’ve been to all those cities except Boston, but I understand what he is saying. There are the windy freeways and the increasing car culture that is LA, but then there is the public transportation system reminiscent of DC, NY, Chicago, and presumably Boston. There are bright and shiny buildings that remind me of the skyscrapers in NY. Beijing is large and sprawling, which reminds me of LA, but then there are areas that are more compact and crowded.
As the city develops and modernizes, I couldn’t help but wonder about the pros and cons of progress and modernization. First of all, how do you even quantify or define these terms? What does it look like? Let’s consider two possible aspects: cars and food. Beijing is increasingly becoming more of a car culture, but at what cost? Obviously, this has a considerable environmental impact. There are also signs of Western influence, namely fast food. KFC and McDonald’s are signs of privilege and status, but again, at what cost? One of the stark differences between the US and Beijing was obesity. It seemed non existent in Beijing. I think that the only overweight people I saw were foreigners, probably American. So with the increasing influence of fast food, will we also see increases in Body Mass Index?
I’m happy to report that the English language is alive and well. Whewwww, what a sigh of relief. At the same time that social conservatives are trying hard to nationalize the English language, it is flourishing in Beijing, and presumably around the world. While some people are trying to make sure that everyone speaks English in the US, it turns out that everyone outside of the US is already doing it. I’m sure that this does nothing to quell the fears of those social conservatives because really, nationalizing the English language isn’t really about preserving it at all, right? But really, to all those who fear that English is a dying language and support legislation or an amendments that would make English the official language of the United States, I’m happy to report that this language is alive, well, and thriving. I mean, and here I thought it was going extinct, and we’d have to add the English language to the endangered species list right along with the gray wolf and American bison. But this isn’t the case. In Beijing, it is easy to get along without reading, writing, or speaking Chinese. Signs are in English, menus are in English, and at least one person in every restaurant or store that I frequented spoke English. While Americans are learning no foreign language, everyone else is learning English. Even on our tour to the Great Wall (in English, of course), there were people from France and Spain. Amongst themselves, they spoke French or Spanish respectively, but the English language was the common denominator and so we all communicated just fine. It seems that you can’t escape the English language (which ironically, is what Drew was attempting to do in Beijing). Although I have only one case in my non scholarly study of the prevalence of the English language, I’m certain that it is not an aberration.
When I told everyone that Drew and I were going to China, the first question people asked is why. The second was what we were going to eat. When meat is central to your diet, it’s difficult to imagine what vegetarians and vegans eat, especially when visiting a country in which the people seem to eat anything and everything. But I was determined to eat good food, and really, food is everywhere. We ate, and we ate well. We went to a few vegetarian restaurants, but it wasn’t always necessary to eat at them in order to enjoy the food that Beijing had to offer. I ate dumplings, fruit kebabs, stinky tofu, and lots and lots of noodles. I took advantage of the street food, indulging in jiangbing, sushi, egg sandwiches, and noodles. Never did I feel like I was missing out at all, and our food experience didn’t suffer simply because we are vegetarians. I mean, it’s not like carnivores were lining up to sample Asian delicacies such as intestines, boiled lamb’s head, or pig’s tongue. When we grew tired of Chinese food, we found American food to eat- pizza, veggie burgers, pancakes, and even a visit to Outback Steakhouse for baked potatoes and salads (Forgive us; this was after our foray at the Donghuamen Night Market where vendors serve up everything and anything- silk worms, seahorses, snakes, intestines, sheep penis, etc. We were feeling a little queasy, and I’m sure you would have too). We also kept trying out the desserts and pastries, even though we didn’t find many that we enjoyed, yet we kept trying them all.
As I said before, I never thought that my first trip out of the US would be to an Asian country. It’s not because I dislike Asia or anything, but because it’s frustrating and hurtful to be reminded that I’m not perceived to be legitimately Asian or legitimately American. I suppose this can happen anywhere in the world, but I was never sure how I would feel when people would inevitably assume that I’m Chinese, only to be confused when they realize that I’m not. This is painfully evident when people play detective with my face. While this game appears to be amusing to other people, it is wildly irritating and annoying to me. Over time, I’ve become better able to blow off the game and allow it to run its course. I knew that people would play detective with my face in Beijing, and I was prepared to take it with a grain of salt. For reasons that are beyond my understanding, people are curious about my nationality. They want to know what I am. It makes people nervous when they can’t quite place me (I just hope it hasn’t caused any sleepless nights). This happened all of the time when I lived in MN, and it occurs less frequently in CA (it helps that I’m one of many, many Asian people and thus less of an anomaly). Apparently, my face is a mystery. People in MN don’t think I’m American, but they can’t quite figure out what I really am. In Beijing, people assumed that I was Chinese, but after learning that I wasn't, they assumed that I was from another Asian country. I guess it didn’t cross their minds that I could be American. The detective game usually goes something like this: First, people ask what I am. Sometimes they are very straightforward, asking where I’m really from or what my nationality is. Other people think they’re been more sneaky and ask if I’ve grown up here all my life. I see right through them. My favorite version of the game is when people try to guess my ethnicity. They ask “are you Chinese?” No. “Japanese?” No. “Korean?” I lie and say no because it is quite a lot of fun to see how many Asian countries people can name. In case you’re wondering, the answer is not a lot. In Beijing, this man asked me if I was Chinese. I said no. He asked if I was Japanese. I said no. Then he asked if I was Asian. I guess he didn’t know his Asian countries that well, giving up quite easily. Depending upon my mood, I’ll tell people after a few guesses. When I’m feeling sassy (and this is usually the case), I tell them that I’m American. Because I am.
I enjoyed my time in Beijing, but there are some things I won’t miss. For starters, I won’t miss the weather. July is quite possibly the worst time to go to China. It is hot and humid. The heat is an oppressive heat, and I use that word to convey that it seems like I can feel the heat pressing down on me. The weather was nearly unbearably hot, and we were sweaty and sticky all the time. You could almost feel the heat closing in on you. If you’ve ever experienced the heat and humidity of the Midwest or the South (and probably the NE, so I guess anywhere except the West Coast), you know what I’m talking about.
I also won’t miss the aggressive, pushy Chinese culture. I have a friend who said that her mom was the stereotypical Chinese mother. I didn’t quite understand what that meant, but I do now. Chinese people are aggressive and damn it, they get what they want- right now. People are pushy in Beijing, and they shove when necessary. One time, when I was making my way out of a crowded subway station, a guy pushed me aside only to stop right in front of me. I have never before done what I did next, but I had had enough. I aggressively place both my hands on his arm, pushed him aside, and never looked back. If I weren’t a woman, I’m pretty sure he would have slugged me. In Beijing, lines sometimes exist, but waiting your turn isn’t really a norm. When we landed at the airport, nearly everyone from my flight headed out to the taxi stand. All the foreigners waited their turn in a line, while the Chinese marched ahead and authoritatively claimed taxis. “See, that’s the difference between white people and Chinese people,” said a white American 20-something guy as he greeted his family (presumably visiting him) and ushered them to the taxi stand. Here, you have to be on your toes here and paying attention. Otherwise, you will never get to use the ATM, go to the bathroom, or get your street food. We aren’t perfect and patient in the U.S., but there was no “are you waiting in line?” or “oh, after you” in Beijing. When I boarded the plane for the flight home, I paused at my seat and hoisted my luggage to the overhead compartment. Behind me, I could hear a young Chinese woman say excuse me. I thought to myself, this is simply a part of the boarding process that you have to deal with: everyone takes up room in the aisles and you have to patiently wait your freaking turn to pass by. I mean, you’re on the plane and it’s not going to leave without you. I ignored her and thought to myself, “yep, it’s time for me to go home.”
Weather and aggressive culture aside, Beijing was a lot of fun and it was a great experience. Drew and I were able to combine work and play in our trip, visiting the Great Wall and other popular tourist destinations like the Forbidden City, Summer Palace, and the Olympic Park. We explored the hutong, and we strolled around the Houhai Lake. We saw a Peking opera, and we haggled at the Silk Market. We became regulars with the nearby street vendors and at 85C. And, of course, we ate our way through Beijing.
This was my first time out of the United States, and it was quite an experience. Beijing was a modern city and it had the comforts of home. At the same time, it didn’t completely look or feel like home, which was a good thing. When I thought about where I wanted to go on my first trip out of the country, I knew it wouldn’t be Europe. I didn’t want to go somewhere that looked and seemed an awful lot like the United States. I guess I had always imagined that I would go to South America (mainly because it’s not Europe and because I can speak some Spanish), and I never thought my first overseas trip would be to Asia. But it was, and it was great.
One of the first things that I noticed is that Beijing is more poor and developing than the United States. Sure, there are poor areas in the U.S., but it seemed most of Beijing was poor. There were areas with tall and shiny buildings, but most areas were clearly impoverished. People rode old bikes and drove old cars- if they had any of these things at all. Cars, I might add; not SUVs, not Range Rovers, not mini vans, not Hummers, not gas guzzling vehicles that are excessively large and extravagant. I saw rows and rows of shacks where people lived, securing their tin roofs down with bricks.
Drew’s adviser said that Beijing is trying to be DC, Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, and Boston all rolled into one. I’ve been to all those cities except Boston, but I understand what he is saying. There are the windy freeways and the increasing car culture that is LA, but then there is the public transportation system reminiscent of DC, NY, Chicago, and presumably Boston. There are bright and shiny buildings that remind me of the skyscrapers in NY. Beijing is large and sprawling, which reminds me of LA, but then there are areas that are more compact and crowded.
As the city develops and modernizes, I couldn’t help but wonder about the pros and cons of progress and modernization. First of all, how do you even quantify or define these terms? What does it look like? Let’s consider two possible aspects: cars and food. Beijing is increasingly becoming more of a car culture, but at what cost? Obviously, this has a considerable environmental impact. There are also signs of Western influence, namely fast food. KFC and McDonald’s are signs of privilege and status, but again, at what cost? One of the stark differences between the US and Beijing was obesity. It seemed non existent in Beijing. I think that the only overweight people I saw were foreigners, probably American. So with the increasing influence of fast food, will we also see increases in Body Mass Index?
I’m happy to report that the English language is alive and well. Whewwww, what a sigh of relief. At the same time that social conservatives are trying hard to nationalize the English language, it is flourishing in Beijing, and presumably around the world. While some people are trying to make sure that everyone speaks English in the US, it turns out that everyone outside of the US is already doing it. I’m sure that this does nothing to quell the fears of those social conservatives because really, nationalizing the English language isn’t really about preserving it at all, right? But really, to all those who fear that English is a dying language and support legislation or an amendments that would make English the official language of the United States, I’m happy to report that this language is alive, well, and thriving. I mean, and here I thought it was going extinct, and we’d have to add the English language to the endangered species list right along with the gray wolf and American bison. But this isn’t the case. In Beijing, it is easy to get along without reading, writing, or speaking Chinese. Signs are in English, menus are in English, and at least one person in every restaurant or store that I frequented spoke English. While Americans are learning no foreign language, everyone else is learning English. Even on our tour to the Great Wall (in English, of course), there were people from France and Spain. Amongst themselves, they spoke French or Spanish respectively, but the English language was the common denominator and so we all communicated just fine. It seems that you can’t escape the English language (which ironically, is what Drew was attempting to do in Beijing). Although I have only one case in my non scholarly study of the prevalence of the English language, I’m certain that it is not an aberration.
When I told everyone that Drew and I were going to China, the first question people asked is why. The second was what we were going to eat. When meat is central to your diet, it’s difficult to imagine what vegetarians and vegans eat, especially when visiting a country in which the people seem to eat anything and everything. But I was determined to eat good food, and really, food is everywhere. We ate, and we ate well. We went to a few vegetarian restaurants, but it wasn’t always necessary to eat at them in order to enjoy the food that Beijing had to offer. I ate dumplings, fruit kebabs, stinky tofu, and lots and lots of noodles. I took advantage of the street food, indulging in jiangbing, sushi, egg sandwiches, and noodles. Never did I feel like I was missing out at all, and our food experience didn’t suffer simply because we are vegetarians. I mean, it’s not like carnivores were lining up to sample Asian delicacies such as intestines, boiled lamb’s head, or pig’s tongue. When we grew tired of Chinese food, we found American food to eat- pizza, veggie burgers, pancakes, and even a visit to Outback Steakhouse for baked potatoes and salads (Forgive us; this was after our foray at the Donghuamen Night Market where vendors serve up everything and anything- silk worms, seahorses, snakes, intestines, sheep penis, etc. We were feeling a little queasy, and I’m sure you would have too). We also kept trying out the desserts and pastries, even though we didn’t find many that we enjoyed, yet we kept trying them all.
As I said before, I never thought that my first trip out of the US would be to an Asian country. It’s not because I dislike Asia or anything, but because it’s frustrating and hurtful to be reminded that I’m not perceived to be legitimately Asian or legitimately American. I suppose this can happen anywhere in the world, but I was never sure how I would feel when people would inevitably assume that I’m Chinese, only to be confused when they realize that I’m not. This is painfully evident when people play detective with my face. While this game appears to be amusing to other people, it is wildly irritating and annoying to me. Over time, I’ve become better able to blow off the game and allow it to run its course. I knew that people would play detective with my face in Beijing, and I was prepared to take it with a grain of salt. For reasons that are beyond my understanding, people are curious about my nationality. They want to know what I am. It makes people nervous when they can’t quite place me (I just hope it hasn’t caused any sleepless nights). This happened all of the time when I lived in MN, and it occurs less frequently in CA (it helps that I’m one of many, many Asian people and thus less of an anomaly). Apparently, my face is a mystery. People in MN don’t think I’m American, but they can’t quite figure out what I really am. In Beijing, people assumed that I was Chinese, but after learning that I wasn't, they assumed that I was from another Asian country. I guess it didn’t cross their minds that I could be American. The detective game usually goes something like this: First, people ask what I am. Sometimes they are very straightforward, asking where I’m really from or what my nationality is. Other people think they’re been more sneaky and ask if I’ve grown up here all my life. I see right through them. My favorite version of the game is when people try to guess my ethnicity. They ask “are you Chinese?” No. “Japanese?” No. “Korean?” I lie and say no because it is quite a lot of fun to see how many Asian countries people can name. In case you’re wondering, the answer is not a lot. In Beijing, this man asked me if I was Chinese. I said no. He asked if I was Japanese. I said no. Then he asked if I was Asian. I guess he didn’t know his Asian countries that well, giving up quite easily. Depending upon my mood, I’ll tell people after a few guesses. When I’m feeling sassy (and this is usually the case), I tell them that I’m American. Because I am.
I enjoyed my time in Beijing, but there are some things I won’t miss. For starters, I won’t miss the weather. July is quite possibly the worst time to go to China. It is hot and humid. The heat is an oppressive heat, and I use that word to convey that it seems like I can feel the heat pressing down on me. The weather was nearly unbearably hot, and we were sweaty and sticky all the time. You could almost feel the heat closing in on you. If you’ve ever experienced the heat and humidity of the Midwest or the South (and probably the NE, so I guess anywhere except the West Coast), you know what I’m talking about.
I also won’t miss the aggressive, pushy Chinese culture. I have a friend who said that her mom was the stereotypical Chinese mother. I didn’t quite understand what that meant, but I do now. Chinese people are aggressive and damn it, they get what they want- right now. People are pushy in Beijing, and they shove when necessary. One time, when I was making my way out of a crowded subway station, a guy pushed me aside only to stop right in front of me. I have never before done what I did next, but I had had enough. I aggressively place both my hands on his arm, pushed him aside, and never looked back. If I weren’t a woman, I’m pretty sure he would have slugged me. In Beijing, lines sometimes exist, but waiting your turn isn’t really a norm. When we landed at the airport, nearly everyone from my flight headed out to the taxi stand. All the foreigners waited their turn in a line, while the Chinese marched ahead and authoritatively claimed taxis. “See, that’s the difference between white people and Chinese people,” said a white American 20-something guy as he greeted his family (presumably visiting him) and ushered them to the taxi stand. Here, you have to be on your toes here and paying attention. Otherwise, you will never get to use the ATM, go to the bathroom, or get your street food. We aren’t perfect and patient in the U.S., but there was no “are you waiting in line?” or “oh, after you” in Beijing. When I boarded the plane for the flight home, I paused at my seat and hoisted my luggage to the overhead compartment. Behind me, I could hear a young Chinese woman say excuse me. I thought to myself, this is simply a part of the boarding process that you have to deal with: everyone takes up room in the aisles and you have to patiently wait your freaking turn to pass by. I mean, you’re on the plane and it’s not going to leave without you. I ignored her and thought to myself, “yep, it’s time for me to go home.”
Weather and aggressive culture aside, Beijing was a lot of fun and it was a great experience. Drew and I were able to combine work and play in our trip, visiting the Great Wall and other popular tourist destinations like the Forbidden City, Summer Palace, and the Olympic Park. We explored the hutong, and we strolled around the Houhai Lake. We saw a Peking opera, and we haggled at the Silk Market. We became regulars with the nearby street vendors and at 85C. And, of course, we ate our way through Beijing.
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