Things that make me uncomfortable and how to deal with them (because the reality is that I have to deal with this stuff)

July 31, 2010

As the title says, here’s a list of things in China which make me feel rather uncomfortable and ways in which I can deal with them. Please leave comments. I will add more of these articles as I face more confronting cultural differences.

骨头和肥肉 (Bones and Fat)

Issue: Conflict of the tastefulness in food. In western culture we do not eat a lot of meat with bones because it is often too difficult to eat (like fish head), therefore our meats are well pre-prepared before we purchase them from a butcher. In China, the animal carcase, bones, fat and all is simply cut up and thrown into a pot. I find that some of the food I am offered in China is not well prepared and too difficult to eat with not enough actual meat. Furthermore, in western culture, we feed such meat to animals, so Chinese dining can sometimes appear uncivilised.

Australian thinking: When eating meat, we should do just that and eat the meat with a minimal amount of fat or bone. (Some meats are an exception to this). As such western meat is often cut into fillets and we can eat with little hassle.

Inferred Chinese thinking: Flavour is quite important therefore bone, bone marrow and fat store a lot of flavour. The most nutritious part of an animal is in the bone marrow, so a straw is sometimes used to suck out bone marrow. The grease (?!) is drained from the fat too, so it acts as a cushion to store flavour.

Solution: I ought to try more Chinese meats. I am quite adamant about fat being fat as even when stewed it still tastes flavourless. It all seems like a big cultural excuse to skimp on the meat. I had hot pot the other day with 4 big bones of beef thrown in with very little meat on the bone and a predominate amount of fat. I guess this does depend on the dishes though. I mean, even though it’s difficult to eat, I quite enjoy fish head and I do enjoy most dishes with meat on the bone. It’s mainly what we’d call “dog bone” style of meat on a bone which I disprefer. So I’ll have to keep experimenting with what I like and find a good middle ground or just take what I can handle.

和我不认识人一起住 (Living with People I don’t really know)

Issue: Cold and impolite feeling when staying with some Chinese people who do not introduce or acknowledge (myself as) a guest. This has happened on several occasions and it’s something that I still fail to fathom. If someone is staying with you, why not acknowledge their presence? Particularly if they are from overseas. Otherwise it just feels impersonal, as though you’ve come to use their home as a hotel. This situation makes me feel uncomfortable as I feel rude that I haven’t properly introduced myself and the host hasn’t facilitated introductions.

Australian thinking: Hosts should make the guest feel welcomed in the house and introduce all of the members of the household to the guest as to make them feel comfortable and so that they know who to ask if they have a problem.

Inferred Chinese thinking: I guess this depends on the individual circumstances. Most Chinese families have not meet a foreigner before, let alone have one stay with them, so there may be apprehension in regards to disturbing the foreigner or making them feel uncomfortable. It is better to express politeness indirectly by offering them a comfortable room, good food and peacefulness.

Some people in China are simply quite shy and prefer to stick with their ingroup relations. In other cases the relationship between the guest and the inviter may affect the behaviour of other members of the household.

Solution: Try not to feel offended by the natural reactions of others in these situations since the reason behind it isn’t always because of you. In fact reasons for shyness or a lack of acknowledgement are more so norms without specific connotation than anything else and not reading into them is okay.

穿短裤 (Wearing Shorts)

Issue: No one in China wears shorts?! I am the only person wearing shorts in summer and, furthermore, the only one sporting gorilla-like leg hair. I stand out like a sore thumb.

Australian thinking: The weather is hot. Wearing pants makes you hot. Don’t wear pants if you don’t have to.

Inferred Chinese thinking: There is simply no logic behind wearing pants in summer. There is even less logic behind wearing pants and a jacket at the same time.

Solution: Chinese people are impractical. Okay, I’m kidding here. Chinese people do wear shorts. At least I remember some doing so last time I was here. It’s just that they don’t wear them very often as they don’t really have the same summer culture and mentality as we do in Australia. Still, it’s kinda weird. I guess I’ll just keep wearing shorts and staying comfortable then. Xi Wei told me in Chaohu this whole wearing shorts phenomena was something he embraced in Australia (in particularly the windcheater/shorts combo), because people don’t wear shorts so much in China. God bless him, and God bless wearing shorts.

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“I thought you wanted to be here”

July 29, 2010

The responses that I’ve received to my own reactions of living in China, via this blog or otherwise, have quite surprised me. Every person who has read this blog and talked with me or left a comment has expressed a degree of concern that I…I dunno, I don’t really feel is warranted.

I guess I want to say something like “we all deal with these things in our own way”, by which I am dealing with it through negatively critiquing the surface level observations of a culture with my untrained foreigner eyes. I guess I’m look for an affirmation, a good answer, a justification to fend off the fear of alienation. When life is too complicated and the brain cannot understand everything, we fall back on safe assumptions and I guess I’m just doing that.

Talking to Xi Wei and some of the foreign teachers here I feel pretty terrible about saying that I’ve spent the past 3 years studying culture, because I’m clearly the most disgruntled of the bunch. But then again, these teachers rarely expose themselves to much culture at all. In a sense, they live their lives in safety capsules and only by living here for several years do they slowly develop a base of survival Mandarin, make friends in a foreign language, leave the city they work in, move house by themselves and survive in part without the handrail assistance of the school. I’m surprised that they’re surprised when I tell them what I’ve been doing, because the way I see it, I’m just doing what needs to be done.

So my reaction is undoubtedly different because I have effectively thrown myself in the deep end a little. Perhaps it’s a stronger reaction because not only am I taking in more, but I’m also trying madly to figure it all out at the same time.

When you’re overseas you just want comfort, last time I found this refuge in language which I practiced all day, every day. This time, I feel my Chinese slipping away from me. It’s not so much digressing (I do need to accept that my language won’t improve right away and that it will be slower this time), but rather the added exhaustion in practicing the language and the fact that everyone around me doesn’t want me to speak Chinese (will write this up later), crushes my faith in myself as a second language learner and my ideals towards living in this country. I yearn for that comfortable feeling of speaking decent Chinese again, particularly to 女神(moniker), but I am probably too preemptive and dogmatic in my wants. I just need to realise that this takes time and already it’s getting better.

I guess the last point is rather common sense: I’m here as a slave to a CEO who runs a monopoly. I am plainly exchanging my humanity for their yuan and I don’t like that one iota. Growing up is hard, particularly in a world of accepted subordination under a pretence of democracy. In any case, the school is mostly kind enough.

And lastly, it has been an exhausting and often emotional few weeks and that can only compound the chaos. One part of my soul is shelling out for “the man”, the other part unsettled that I am so far away from the person who feeds my humanity.

It’s also all about getting settled too. I’m still not quite comfortable with my routine here. I haven’t found a regular eatery, still don’t have good internet, haven’t really started work properly and once training is over it’s “summer fun”, working 6 days a week. Fortunately the teachers have made aware that the peak season periods are usually much shorter than what was stated in the contract being mid-June through to August and 2-3 weeks in Jan/Feb. So basically after “summer fun” I should be okay, by the time it ends 女神‘s situation will be different too and maybe things will start to work out. I’m getting comfortable now and I’m pleased that I’m finally stuck in the one place and I hope that future articles will reflect this change (given I have the time to write them >_<). For now though, September is my goal. By then the worst of it will be over and life can normalise. I am sorry for bitching.

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“我说得很标准， really”

July 27, 2010

The above quote (“I speak very standardised [Chinese], really”) and the doubtful expression which followed on Xi Wei’s face as the two of us were eating in a 巢湖市 (Chaohu) restaurant had me laughing uncontrollably for a brief moment. In fact, his jibes continued over the several days I stayed with him in 安徽 (Anhui) and it’s reasons like this that I will always consider him my Chinese brother.

(In China, due to the one child families, close friends often call each other older/younger brother or sister as an acknowledgement of their tight relationship.)

You see, humour is a very effective tool at breaking down the barrier of cross-cultural communication. Humour releases tension and allows the interlocutors to view each other in a more relatable light—and Xi Wei is the most relatable Chinese guy I know.

Xi Wei isn’t just a wisecrack though, he is a good friend and together we can just do “guy stuff”. This is quite important for our development as second language speakers as well as overseas expats. Plus, to be quite honest, besides from my actual brother (“Hi!”), I don’t really have anyone in Australia to do guy stuff with.

As has always been the case with my experience with China, it’s the personal relationships which act as the catalyst towards understanding and language development. Touching base, not just with anyone, but someone you really like is the best means to find your feet in a foreign country. Having reunited with Xi Wei as the conclusion to my recent travels and as someone who I haven’t seen for two years, I’m starting to feel a little more comfortable here.

The air of criticism which has permeated throughout the previous blog posts are, I think, quite a natural type of knee-jerk reaction that anyone would have towards their initial experience of living in a foreign country (even if this is the 3^rd time). For me, the past few weeks have been exhausting as I travel around and organise accommodation, toilets and internet. The exhaustion has been met with a fair deal of emotion and turbulence as I meet with friends I haven’t seen for a long time and deal with the ceaseless amount of inconveniences which plague my presence.

(I have talked with other foreigners about their initial experiences here in China and they don’t seem to share or sympathise with my disgruntlement. “To each his own” they say as if show a level of acceptance that befalls my own troll-like attitude. I am most certainly a poor student of cultural studies, or maybe I am thinking too much again. Next time).

Meeting with Xi Wei, someone whom has a firm understanding of what I’m going through—a rarity on both sides of the cultural fence—has restored my attitude towards this place and reminded me that a little common sense towards openness, as opposed to wrapping my exhausted self in a cultural cocoon, is the best way to approach this place. We are so unstable without the friendship which supports us.

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