The Dumb Laowai

Much has been written about the “Golden Week”, most of it incapable of accurately representing the full depth of its absurdity, if only because it would require hundreds of pages to fully consider the phenomena. Short of writing that book, which would sell dozens of copies, all one can do is hit some of the low points and paint a fuzzy picture of hell.

A recent Expedia poll of hoteliers declared the Chinese tourist to be the overall worst in the world. The China National Tourism Administration announced that more than 60% of the population would be traveling during last week’s National Day Golden Week. That in itself is a scary combination.

To put this in perspective, it might help to know that the China is only 2% smaller than the United States in size and yet has more than four times as many people. Imagine if every single person in the US decided to travel at the same time. Now double that number. Now increase it a little more. How relaxing do you think your vacation would be? Don’t forget that most of those people are going to be as socially pleasant as a drunken Philadelphia sports fan on a bad day.

Where lines do form, they are still sort of a vague concept, far from universally understood. Even when you are in line you must defend your position from those who still think you’re just forming a rugby scrum. This is done by keeping full body contact with the person in front of you. It’s a very intimate experience and deeply ingrained in the psyche. I found myself on a moving sidewalk in an aquarium with a woman permanently attached to my derriere. When I finally turned around to exhibit my annoyance I found that there wasn’t anyone for 20 feet behind her and her husband. It just seemed to be instinct for her; she had to keep contact with me to avoid someone cutting in, even though there was no one around. Thus was spent an entire week.

Hotel prices double and triple during this week and my girlfriend, LD, was not about to let me spend enough to stay somewhere that takes reservations, drastically increasing our adventure quotient. She also likes to ask for and listen to advice from anyone on the street, so most of our excursions would appear on a map as endless circles. We were turned away by most hotels and rejected a few ourselves (the idea of us staying in same-sex, dorm-style rooms with 7-10 strangers was more interesting than appealing.) We ended up in a windowless room with a running toilet, non-functional television, two rock-hard single beds and only hand-towels.

When traveling by train, it is impossible to buy a round-trip ticket so the next morning was spent wandering around town trying to secure a way back to Beijing. Better hotels make tickets available to their guests but we weren’t in that kind of place. After blindly insisting that there had to be somewhere other than the train station to buy tickets, we wandered the town for two hours in a fruitless search, LD not speaking to me. I gave in and we settled in for an hour in line at the station.

The rest of the trip was spent wandering around Qingdao, trying to avoid being run over by mobs wearing identically colored ball caps following someone waving a flag and yelling in a megaphone: the much loved tour groups. Nights were spent at the Beer Festival, which is another story in itself. Everyone wants to drink with the foreigners and have their picture taken. We were forcibly adopted by a rural family one night and could not escape. They kept pouring us beer and shoving dried fish in our faces. Even the one year old son got into the act, but he was so excited to drink with me that when we tried to clink glasses he ended up throwing it at me.

LD and I depend on our PDA dictionaries for a great deal of our communication needs. Hers tends to be a little more earthy than mine and when she pulled up the term tubaozi to describe our hosts, I actually sprayed the table with a mouthful of beer. Mine just says rube, hick but hers said clodhopper. It became a much used term for the remainder of the trip.

Of course by Sunday the entire country was trying to get home. Arriving back in Beijing, we found over 200 people, all with excessive amounts of luggage, waiting in line for a taxi and opted for a bus. The crowds were so bad that we decided anywhere was better than the train station and hopped on the first one we saw. Our co-travelers were very kind in assisting me onto the bus, chanting something I understood to be “1, 2, 3, heave!” Unfortunately my arm had somehow been forced into an elevated position as if reaching for the sky. It was 30 minutes before I could lower it. Two hours later, we finally made it home, vowing never again.  

 

 

I usually avoid short commentaries as this blog is written primarily with family and friends in mind; people who show a little more patience in slogging through excess amounts of drivel. Today I just can’t help it. Plus I’m headed for Qingdao and the beer festival, so my memory may not survive the trip intact.

As my Chinese girlfriend and I played cards and watched local television last night, a very somber ceremony was shown on the news. LD (little dictator) put down her cards with a very worried look and asked “Who died?” She followed along for a while, through the mass moment of silence and wreath laying before letting me know that it was simply the National Day (think of it as a Chinese 4th of July) ceremony at Tiananmen.

I realize that it is a day of celebration and remembrance, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t look more like a state funeral. We went back to playing cards; her relieved and me confused.
    

Although it is as of yet unconfirmed, I was informed by an impeccable source (a friend of a friend, who knows a guy that is related to someone who claims to know) that the adorable little girl who signed the song at the Paralympic closing ceremony was actually hand-synching. The actual signer, who earlier had been judged by one of the volunteers to be lacking the appropriate level of cuteness, was actually hidden beneath the voluminous dress of the girl we all saw and fell in love with.

I am both speechless and disillusioned. I guess I’ll have to drown my sorrows with some rather strange tasting Chivas. Cheers!
 

I’ve never paid much attention to the Paralympics so to say that I have never enjoyed them more would be misleading, but I have enjoyed them more than I ever thought possible. My normal, cheery demeanor has returned as a result.  

At first I thought that it was simply because the Paralympics had provided me with a cooling-off period before resuming normal daily life in Beijing. Let’s face it: if I had carried my Olympics induced rage at the public and private powers that be straight into a Monday confrontation with the normal, hellish traffic and its resultant smog I might have snapped. However, I soon realized that some truly inspiring performances (not all by winners) had quickly made most of my complaints seem minor, even churlish.

Once properly chastened I began to look back and reexamine what just happened. None of my negative predictions for the games came true, with the possible exception of the guy who sells scorpions and seahorses on a stick going blind from television camera lighting; I haven’t heard anything but I hope he survived. God knows his business thrived.

The level of enthusiasm for the games was astounding, as was the level of knowledge about the games as well as support for and politeness to other participants and spectators. I was teaching a class when the games began and my students named every single event - in English! They knew more than I did, and I had prepared for the class!   

Not once did I hear a Chinese person speak negatively about other countries or their athletes. Not a single ugly boast was made in my presence. People were proud of China’s accomplishments, but in an unbelievably polite manner. English soccer fans could learn a thing or two, as well as people from Philadelphia.

Now life slowly returns to normal. I can get my baozi once again and traffic is due to return to normal in a few days. Maybe I’ll even be able to buy a DVD again soon.  I’ll save the bitching about my torture at the hands of a Chinese tour group for next week; I’m in too good of a mood.

Having had a little time to leisurely reflect on the Olympic phenomenon and its ability to turn me into a foaming at the mouth China basher, I’ve started to see things in a slightly different light. Believe it or not, I’m actually beginning to develop a very positive personal spin on things.

Viewed from the position that the games should enable people to experience the real China, what I saw was ham-handed, ill-conceived policies to the contrary. This Hu Jintao Village presentation irritated me on almost every level because it showcased a China that I could not identify and not the one that I have come to love. At this point I have only one thing to say to the organizers - Thank You!

My spirits have slowly returned to their previous high level mainly because I am no longer subjected to non-stop advice on how to behave in front of foreigners and constant interference with even the smallest aspects of daily life. Once again I can leisurely enjoy my cherished morning baozi and spend the evenings sitting outside with friends, enjoying a few bottles of Yanjing and eating chuanr (kebabs.)  I can once again walk down the local streets and not be mobbed by smiling volunteers trying to “help” me. I can enjoy the China that most visitors never saw.

China loves to put forth a happy 56 faced picture of multi-cultural harmony. Fortunately for me, it was limited to putting 56 ethnic costumes on Han children for the opening ceremony. Imagine the horror if they had been presented properly. Imagine something like the Ethnic Park on the Olympic Green, with food, art and legitimate ethnic products available to one and all. Those damn tourists would just keep coming back and even tell their friends to come. We’d be overwhelmed with foreigners.

As it is, practically no one will be returning because of their Olympic experiences or their exposure to Wangfujing “Fear Factor”, tourist-only snacks. Those few who do return will find a China so different from their packaged and sanitized first trip that they will probably scramble to change their tickets for earlier departure dates.

China’s “Coming Out Party” has shown that they have truly mastered the few foreign concepts they have selectively chosen to study. In this case they have proven themselves to be the advertising equal of anyone on Madison Ave. by giving us all image and no substance. It was brilliant! Now we can slowly return to normal, with minimal impact from our close shave with disaster.  

 

There are three laws that I try to live by (not always successfully): Never go grocery shopping when you’re hungry, Never call ex-girlfriends when you’re drunk and Never post a blog when you’re too angry to be rational. As a result, I’ve waited a couple of days to write about my Olympic experience but, mind you, I’m still pretty pissed off.

The Evil Axis of the Beijing Games: The IOC, McDonalds and Coca-Cola. This should include the government group responsible for concessions planning, but I can’t put a name to the morons yet. Let’s look at these briefly.

I just read that Jacques Brogge does not take a salary so, technically, I can not call him a whore. His sole criticisms have been of Usain Bolt for his celebrations and of American athletes who dared to arrive wearing masks which happened to be issued them. His sole, pale attempt at legitimacy, made only under pressure, has been to ask the FIG to investigate the ages of Chinese gymnasts, even though FIG had already said that the matter was closed.

The IOC has taken its absurd policy to new heights. That is, “nothing can be wrong in our Olympic fairyland except having an opinion that isn’t ours.” There is a rather earthy American saying that succinctly sums up my thoughts on the forthrightness of the IOC and Chinese officialdom, “Don’t piss on my head and tell me it’s raining.”  Remember the days when Juan Antonio Samaranch would open the games, close the games and shut up in the interim? Admittedly, he had some faults but in retrospect he’s looking better all the time.

McDonalds managed, under cover of Olympic sponsorship, to eliminate absolutely any dining choice in any venue. Volunteers actually sit on lifeguard chairs and use megaphones to direct people to the nearest golden arches. I arrived to find almost one hundred people outside closed doors, waiting for the opportunity to get inside and wait behind another few hundred.

Deciding to search elsewhere, I wandered a soulless Olympic Green, a vast stretch on concrete that makes Tiananmen Square look like someone’s patio. The only attraction are a few corporate pavilions. People were so starved for entertainment that they were actually jockeying for position to photograph a very confused man standing behind a counter of Omega watches. He never moved and I’m pretty sure that he still hasn’t sold a watch.

Spotting a Coca-Cola stand, I waited for twenty minutes to buy a beer and discovered that there were indeed other dining choices, sort of. You could choose between small, vacuum sealed sausages or an unidentifiable meat with rice. It turned out to be the best entertainment around.

I watched as people would pull their white plastic container out of a box and read the instructions on how to initiate a nuclear reaction. Take substance A and put in container, Place bag B on top of it. Place food C on top of that. Take them all out and retrieve the arming device (string) that you left at the bottom. Start over. When completed, place top on container and pull string. Run like hell.

The reactions were fairly universal. The food preparation device would start to blow steam in all directions and people would jump back, looking around for emergency services. After waiting fifteen minutes or so, they would feel brave enough to take the top off and burn the crap out of themselves on the food. After waiting another ten minutes or so they would finally take a bite. The rest was immediately thrown in the trash.

Heading into the Bird’s Nest and finding my seat made everything else fall away into insignificance. A ninth row seat with a good view of the pole vault, if nothing else. The place is amazing. I watched a few javelin throws and long jumps, mainly on television before I decided to get a beer before the races began. I once again ran into the evil handiwork of concession planners, who will probably be rewarded with lucrative Coca-Cola jobs when the games are finished.

It’s hard to believe that a building like the Bird’s Nest can have areas that receive no breeze, but there are a few. They seem to be favorite sites for the few concession stands. I stood in line with a few hundred swearing Chinese, all of us trying to maintain three inches of personal space and profusely sweating. There were more volunteers asking us to be patient than there were people who were actually serving. I’m still baffled how it consistently took 2-3 minutes to give someone a bottle of Coke and a pre-packaged bag of popcorn, but it did. All three servers were that slow.

Finally reaching the head of the mob, I got the now familiar service with a snarl. “No beer!” I asked why there was no beer, politely pointing out that all of the signs had promised me a beer and that it was 7:30, only thirty minutes into the event. “No beer!”

I stormed off with a Coke (perhaps the last I will ever drink) and reviewed the handwritten board of scheduled events for the evening. The only one of real interest was the 4×100 relays. Since they were two hours off and I’d had my fill of frustration for the evening, I stormed off. My Olympic experience had lasted an hour, half of that in concession hell.

I’ll share a long held conspiracy theory of mine that seems more and more plausible. The much discussed visa issues and difficulties involved in coming to China for these games were absolutely intentional. The powers that be preferred that you stay at home and watch the wonder that is modern China on your television. It’s much easier to present a wonderful image that way, without all of the inconvenient Potemkin Village moments.   

A high party official recently compared the Beijing sky to a sauna while explaining why you couldn’t see from Mao’s mausoleum across the square to Mao’s picture (I don’t believe he actually used that example.) When you’re sitting in a sauna, it’s sometimes hard to see clearly because of the mist was the concept he tried to apply to an entire city of 13 million hacking and wheezing people.

I felt better after that. I hadn’t realized that rather than complaining, I should be enjoying the wonders of a nice, natural phenomenon, a “Mist”. I wanted to head right out and look for some gorillas.

This may be one of the lasting effects of these games. The Chinese government has managed to redefine an English word. Showing their usual lack of independent thought where China is concerned, Yahoo has for the last week shown the weather in Beijing as being “Mist.” I’m used to Fair, Cloudy, Partly Cloudy, and a variety of other terms, but I’ve never seen the weather forecast as “Mist” before. If we can just get a couple more media companies to buy into this you could soon see Los Angeles described as being covered in Mist.

While Official A was editing the English language, Official B was also blaming the weather for the current air quality issues, saying that a lack of rain was the culprit. Let’s just think about the questions that brings to my simple mind. (You may have others.)

So, you’re saying that we want rain to clear the moisture (mist) out of the air?

By lack of rain, do you mean the usual  August weather?

But you promised us no rain during the Olympics. Now it’s a good thing?

Don’t get me wrong; a nice day-long rainstorm does make things a little clearer on the following day, but the third day sees a return of the “Mist.” The only way that we can hope to see these games clearly is if it rains all night, every night and magically stops the next morning. 

In the meantime, I’ll try to remember that my clothes are drenched from a nice, refreshing mist and not from two gallons of sweat. My spirits should be uplifted.  
    

After a day of rain - relatively good day. 8/3/08

Olympic morn with a light mist. 8/8/08

All of the latest observations, predictions, kvetches and assorted oddities from the The City The Sun Forgot, otherwise known as Beijing.

We may be treated to the first sporting event where visibility is limited by smog, within the stadium! Hard to believe that officials are having such a hard time meeting their long-stated goals in this regard.

Excerpt from an August 2006 blog post of mine:
“On August 8th, the government announced a program to study air pollution in Beijing until December, 2007 and then make recommendations on improvements to be made for the Olympics. Eight months to fix the problem? They’re already moving the heavy polluting industries out of the area, but count on these being the “Smog Games.” The U.S. might want to look at moving the Olympic Training Center from Colorado to Los Angeles.”

Let me see, 17 months to study the problem and 7 months to fix it. I just can’t imagine what the problem is!

The mad rush for tickets means that I am limited to one, measly event. I’d like to buy a few more but, even though tickets were released just last month and are fairly elaborate in quality, there are already counterfeits on the street. I think I’ll take a pass on that idea and stay home to watch it on TV. At least any body search there will be of the pleasant variety.

Come to think of it, I don’t get the American network and the Chinese network will be a little biased for my taste, not to mention their heavy attention to ping-pong and badminton. I’m stuck with my Phillipines satellite broadcast, which I just discovered was illegal. Not the signal, but even owning a dish! The most security paranoid, I mean conscious, games in history and I’m sporting a illegal dish that looks directly down onto one of the major Olympic thoroughfares. Why do I get a bad feeling about this?

I’ve decided to risk it. I just can’t wait for what is sure to be riveting coverage. After all, this is the network which told me to “Watch as the Rockets and the Nets attempt to continue their mastery of each other” and tried to entice me into watching a game by giving me the score! “The NFL kicked off the 2007 season…when the Indianapolis Colts defeated the New Orleans Saints, 41-10, at the RCA Dome. ‘In Stereo.’” I’m sure the gems will be non-stop, with breaks taken only for previously scheduled cock fights.

While I and every other westerner with access to the internet is mentioning various oddities and lack of preparation did you realize that, ten days prior to the opening ceremony, a factory was working overtime to finish the US Olympic Team’s uniforms? In Dalian, CHINA!?

Is burning a FUWA (mascot) a legitimate form of protest? Not against the games or against China, but against the FUWAs, themselves.

With such an opportunity to introduce Chinese products to the world, don’t you find it a little strange that the official vehicles are Audis? I wonder who’s getting a great deal on slightly used, status symbols afterwards?

Just A Few Predictions

At least four terrorist plots will be foiled be the government, with only their word to go on.
Any actual disturbance of the games will be found to be non-terrorist-related.

At least three different people, none of whom could find Tibet on a map, will foolishly attempt to stage a public protest within a sporting venue. These will not be seen on TV and hundreds of video cameras will be inspected and/or seized.

At least two events will be postponed due to air quality. Chinese officials will protest, saying it’s not really that bad.

At least four persons of African descent will be beaten by police.

At least one Chinese mob will go amok after an unexpected loss.

If America finishes highest in the medal count, at least ten of us will be beaten by small groups.

The guy on Wangfujing who sells scorpions and seahorses on a stick will go blind from constant exposure to television camera lights. (A word to the wise: no one here eats that stuff except tourists, but it makes a great story the first hundred or so times.)

Internet service throughout Beijing will crash at least once, and possibly for several days.

Maybe I’m just cranky because I’m hot, sweaty and can’t breathe. Let’s hope none of these actually happen, but don’t hold your breath, especially if you’re in Beijing.

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PS I’m sorry I deleted someone’s comments to a recent post. I’m not used to working without a mouse and accidentally hit delete while checking out my computer at the repair shop.

***PRESS RELEASE***

From: *****Withheld for security reasons**** (hereafter referred to as ???.)

In order to conform to the socialist vision of the Olympic spirit, as defined by the most recent Gathering of Big Wigs, fun has been declared to be counter-productive in meeting the goals set forth by said, omnipotent organ of the state.

Being honored with permission to visit our glorious worker’s paradise also requires that you contribute to the advancement of responsible, harmonious society by pretending not to be an individual. Your duties will include:

Not to blatantly cheer for any particular team. It has been determined that indicating support for the performance of any one individual or group of individuals is disrespectful to the other participants.

Not to publicly consume alcohol. Affirming the wisdom of the party (no pun intended), you will be assisted in the performance of this duty by the total lack of opportunities for outdoor consumption. This is a new and temporary campaign, designed strictly for your benefit!

Not to mention ?????, ??????, ????? ?????? or any other topic likely to hurt the feelings of the entire (without exception) Chinese population. Since we are discouraged from mentioning these topics ourselves, rather than guess, it is advised that you simply avoid saying anything while you are our guest.

Not to encourage or support wildly anti-social activities, such as the live performance of music. (Actually, this is also temporary. We just don’t have enough morality/political monitors to go around these days.)

Please keep in mind that these are just a few of the conditions under which we will tolerate your presence in Eden, otherwise know as the PRC. You will be notified of any other regulations after paying the appropriate fine, while being escorted to the airport.

Further announcements on regulations may be forwarded to you, provided that this office has not violated one itself, in which case you may never hear from me again.        

If you take a look at many blogs based in Beijing, you’ll notice that the vast majority of writers writing about the Olympics are growing less enthused by the day. It has become an overload for the senses, especially logic.

From the thought of Segway-mounted SWAT teams chasing down terrorists (who are hopefully in wheelchairs) to the idea of hacking up a lung on a “blue-sky day”, it all leads to a sense of living in the Bizarro World of logic.  

It doesn’t take long, wandering around Beijing, to realize that a sizeable portion of the local population has had their fill of it as well. Maybe you’re trying to figure out how to get to work on the alternate days you won’t be allowed to drive your car. New subway lines are nice, but they won’t do much to help with the overcrowding of existing ones. They just don’t go to the same place now, do they?

Then again, maybe you don’t have that problem because you work at one of the hundreds of companies that will be closed. Maybe you just spent three months redecorating your restaurant, only to be told that you would need to close it until late September. Maybe some of your key employees are taking a few months off because they can’t get their business visas renewed.  Maybe you counted on all of those extra tourists to justify the investments you’ve made and now realize that there will be the same number of them as last year.  

I remember hearing all about “China’s Coming Out Party” and “Introducing China to the World.” It turns out that most of the invitations were canceled and the introduction resembles a video-dating service. It has been decided that it’s really much better for you to learn about China while watching your television than to actually be here. You’re much more likely to get a warm, fuzzy feeling about it all.

Bring up the Olympic Games with any taxi driver and you’re likely to be answered with a grin/sneer and a rolling of the eyes.  Maybe he’s finally realized that he’s made years of sacrifice and still can’t see where the payoff is.  Then again, maybe he’s just tired of talking about it all.  I know that I am.

PS I really want to put a countdown clock for the end of the Olympics on my website (www.dumblaowai.com) but I can’t find a good one that works on my server (it just might be me!) Any thoughts?

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PS Following comment re-posted after a mistaken deletion. Unfortunately, since I can’t even see this blog in China, I couldn’t post it as a comment.

Comment text: Interesting observations…it makes me wonder what media outlets will talk about after the Olympics are over. Probably still the Olympics.

We actually left the country for the Olympics just because we didn’t want to be there while it was happening. I’ll be glad when they’ve finally “come out”.