death and distance in Shanghai

My reading teacher died Tuesday. The last thing he had said to us was that he was going to treat us to chocolates and snacks to reward our hard work. That was last week, when we were finishing up our finals. He was an older man, our 阅读 (intensive reading, yue du) professor. You could tell he had a lot of experience teaching; he was so comfortable with us in class and projected a lot of warmth. He knew about the NBA, basketball, Zorro, and a lot about cinema. He had a good sense of humor, too. I didn't even know his name.

I don't know any of my teachers' names. While I know that I am especially bad in this regard, I’m not alone; there is a great deal of separation between foreign students at Jiao Tong University and the faculty.

Some of us come for fun, attending class to learn a few words but mostly as a means to keep in touch with other foreigner friends: between going to clubs and bars and hanging out in one of the world's fastest cities you need to have a break, and school can serve as that place to chat or even nurse a hangover. Others come for the student visa; you see them during registration and after that they never return.

Then there are the many that come to learn Chinese. While I take my studies seriously, I don't care about grades, and I even skip some classes that I think are covering things too slowly or covering things I’d rather study on my own. The course is what you make of it, you can learn a lot or a little inside and outside of class depending on your attitude. The teachers know this, of course and barely take roll or check homework. Not to say that classes are taught without passion, thought, or care… but there is no graduation from the Long Term Chinese Refresher Course at Jiao Da and you can easily get around many classroom conventions (such as tests that are supposed to count towards your moving up in level) and regulations (like registration!!!).

After class, the Tao Li Yuan area fills with foreign students speaking Korean, Japanese, Dutch, German, English, Thai, Indonesian, and of course Mandarin. There is intermixing between nationalities sometimes, and also tutoring and language exchange between Chinese and foreign students. A few of us sometimes venture out to mingle with the normal, local students of Jiao Da, but mostly there is a clear divide between 留学生( Liu Xue Sheng abroad study students) and Chinese students. The more I thought about my own feeling of distance from school, the more I also thought of our distance from China while living here.

The divide can be seen when you go out at night. You have your Chinese clubs, most notably Babyface. If you're foreign in Babyface chances are you are a guy and you are hunting for Chinese girls. Of course, you yourself might be the unwitting prey…ah this train of thought is a little played out isn’t it? Sorry. The "foreign clubs" range from Guandi and its devotion to American Hip Hop to the bars that have made China nightlife famous. These bars always have an inevitably predictable clientèle: white males 30+ and Chinese semi-professional (and some downright professional) madams. We call 'em 小姐（xiao jie). The vast majority of the time "relationships" that spring from these kinds of bars are based on money and sex; a self proclaimed expert on China, an expat from the U.S., told me it was kind of like prostitution but not enough to give him a guilty conscience when he paid one of his “girlfriends” her monthly allowance. Then there are places like Bon Bon, where the ratio of Chinese to foreigners is much more equal. I was there at Bon Bon, the club famous for its open bar of fake liquor and the monstrous hangovers therefore produced, with a Chinese female friend who told me what she thought of relationships between foreign men and Chinese girls.

"When I look at the eyes of the Chinese girl, I see sadness. Even her smile I can't believe.
She is sad because she knows the relationship is temporary, and that the foreign guy is just having some fun with her."

And if said girl is truly happy and believes she has a future with her boyfriend from overseas?

"Then she's stupid," my friend replied. She pointed to a couple slow dancing in front of our table. The guy's back was to us, brown hair illuminated by the flashing lights from the ceiling. The girl, mostly bangs and eyeliner, was resting her chin on his shoulder. They moved in this embrace just like any other couple anywhere in the world would. But her eyes were empty.

There was a guy I knew who gave me a piece of advice one night:

"China equals sex."

China = sex. Sounds ridiculous, no? But for better or worse this is a mentality that many, many, MANY foreign guys take when they travel not only to China but Asia.

You can see the divide in the streets. Local peddlers and shop keeps try with all their might to squeeze every yuan out of any 外国人 (wai guo ren, foreigner) who cross their path or enter their shop. The arguments between customers and taxi drivers, and of course, the stares. I think in Shanghai more than any other city the local Chinese are not impressed by foreigners. I have more than one friend who's gotten into altercations with locals that turned physical and even very violent.

I was in a cab with two friends, one from Singapore and one from Australia. The guy from Australia looks like Wang Li Hong and extremely nice, the fellow from Singapore has frizzy orangish hair and an English accent. Our cab was struggling to get past some pedestrians who were blocking the street in front of the night club Bon Bon. Randolph, from Singapore, leaned his head out of the window and shouted at them.

“Get the hell out of the way!” They were white, possibly American. One of the girls in their group replied,

“Fucking Chinese!!!”

I thought her choice of words were inappropriate and interesting. We were in China, or so I thought.

The divide is manifested in the superior attitude many foreign expats, businessmen, and students adopt here in Shanghai. Surely there exists cooperation between locals and foreigners here. Shanghai is a very international center for business in the world. But I am still surprised when I sit at a restaurant and see a white person and a Chinese person eating together (so long as it’s not a 50 year old man and his 20 year old girlfriend), and I believe that those of us who come here to really mix and mingle with Chinese are few and far between.

That’s just how I see things now. Are we really a part of Shanghai? Are we here just to have fun? Is Shanghai, with all of its expats and foreign infusion, really China? In the wake of the death of a teacher who genuinely interested in relating to his students, I wonder if I have been doing my part to not be just another carefree American in China.

I did go to Babyface, the local club, a few times last semester.

And it was always to get girls.

In Korea, Beyonce is called "Big Upper Thighs."

tutoring, finding a niche, and the Lord

I looked back at this post I never finished, I am ashamed of myself as a human being. So, I will add edits in red text...I mean...this was started back in December!

Been almost a month (longer) since I last blogged. I have started tutoring English to a nine-year old Korean boy named Howard. Howard's English is already pretty good, and his parents are very kind; I was a bit hesitant to ask for 200 RMB an hour but they readily accepted. If DC Lee can charge 300 an hour, then I shouldn't be reticent to charge 200. I asked Howard when I met him what his favorite color was:

"It's always changing. Right now it's blue." My family has a lot of home videos of my sister and I when we were young. Howard's voice sounds just like mine when I was a couple years younger than him. I'm mentioning this because boys talk about the same things or because we all sound the same before puberty, but he sounds A LOT like I did. He's a good kid, and in contrast to New World Baby ( a mostly bad experience teaching that I think I reflected on already in a blog, i hope) I feel I can make a difference with his English level.

The result of my tutoring? I don't think I improved Howard's English a bit. We ended up disliking each other, him climbing like a monkey all over the study room and saying "I don't want toooooo!", me wishing I had taken a firmer stance with him instead of playing the nice guy. I could get away with being nice and being someone kids could talk to at Kingsbury (years ago) because I did not actually have the direct responsibility of teaching them. At that time, I was more like a stress buffer for the teachers, allowing the kids someone to play with while they finally got a chance to exhale. Basically, with Howard, I gained a new respect for teachers. It's a tough job, and one that could make me hate kids. Thus, I had to quit and vow never to teach kids again. Call me a quitter, I just did.

Met with Mr. Barrett yesterday in People's Square. It had been over half a year since we had contact; we met back in March during a very interesting "business" meeting with an interesting Chinese "developer." During that meeting, my role for the "developer" was to act as his "little helper" in another Chinese city while he tried to wine and dine potential investors. If they gave him money? Well, Mr. Developer took out an old receipt and scribbled on the back RMB 10,000 (about $1,430). The flight and the food would all be paid for by him; he needed a young international to make him look better to these potential Chinese clients.

I didn't know what the fuck was going on, honestly. He had brought me to a fast food place and treated me to a never ending, copious amount of tea. He told me he could teach me Chinese in four months better than any school, and he told me he could introduce me to good contacts in Shanghai to jump start my career. He told me a lot of things, but between the buzz I was starting to get from the 82nd cup of tea, his greasy long hair and nails, and the fact I had been there for two and half hours already...well, I could not get a recurring vision of being sold into slavery, robbed and left dead far from home, or anally raped. He kept saying "little helper". Freaky.

So I had my guard up, vowing not to give in to the power of the tea and agree fully to this deal. Finally, Mr. Barret walked in, all long hair parted down the middle and bushy mustache. And white. From Virginia with a house in Florida. Fluent in Chinese to boot. I thanked God a little bit, unaware of the possible irony to follow.
To cut that story within a story short, Mr. Barret (who was trying to use the developer's contacts for his own work) saved me from a sketchy trip with a sketchy man. Barret told me that it was a safe proposition by Mr. Developer, but that he understood that I was very hesitant to go as I had just come to Shanghai. He was American and experienced in China; he spoke fluent Chinese, and had a boisterous energy that exuded confidence and made me feel safe. We said we would keep in contact, and about seven months after that faithful meeting in a fast food tea place, we met again in People's square for coffee and lunch.

Mr. Barret is a devout Christian trying to set up a recognized charitable organization in Shanghai. He has a non-recognized one already, which raises and provides money and goods to families and people in need of surgery, musical instruments, food, or just financial help in hard times. Most of the beneficiaries are Christian as well, for example the family of a pastor in the countryside, but anybody in need is viable for help from them. During lunch I learned a lot from him and the politics of China.

To become a legit charity, Barret would need a lot of money from a big Chinese businessman who is Christian. Big money meaning over a million.

"He wasn't impressed with me, and to tell you the truth, David, I wasn't really impressed with him and his wealth, either." They had met before in the businessman's huge office in Guangzhou.

Mr. Barret told me that the opportunity to take the man's money and found a charity, in the name of that man, was available. I questioned why he did not take it, as another requisite is that all organizations and charities must be in the name of a Chinese. Barret's answer came like this:

"I do the work of God not because I am seeking some kind of reward in the afterlife, nor do I do it because I want His praise. A true Christian follows the word of God, and is in step with His plan. Too many nowadays do good in His name as a ticket into the pearly gates. I have helped a lot of people, and of course when they thank me I feel their gratitude...but I do it because it is the right thing to do according to God. Also, once we are in line with his plan, sometimes we have to question Him when He is not doing His work."

Question God?

"Yes, a passage in the Bible that has been disputed for many many years says that we must question God when he seems to be getting off track with his plan."

Mr. Barret told me a story of a poor pastor in the countryside and his musically gifted daughter. They could afford no piano to give her a chance at being special. Mr. Barret prayed that night for God to grant this family it's wish, and help this little girl.

After a week, God answered Mr. Barret and said that it would be done in three weeks, at the end of the month. Wait, was the answer to Barret's prayers and so he did.

After just nine days, an American doing business in China offered Barret a baby-grand piano from his old home that he had no use for. This man was a Christian. He had been having an affair in China for half a year, while his wife and children waited for him back home in the States.

"I could not accept his piano," Mr. Barret told me.

Another two weeks passed, and nothing happened. Mr. Barret began to panic, and prayed to God telling Him that he had to keep His word and execute His plan.

"Now remember, You told me You would help this little girl. I remain your humble servant, but the end of the month has come and gone, and I am worried You have forgotten Your word."

The next day, a Chinese woman called Mr. Barret, and spoke excitedly with him. She had been fired from her old job some months ago. The reason she had been fired was the same reason many in China are let go: workers get an annual raise in salary, and companies fire them so they can hire new workers at lower prices. She had already started working a job shortly after she was fired and was not resentful of her previous situation. However, unexpectedly a new manager from the woman's old company had called her just a couple of days ago and offered her severance pay, unheard of, and a personal apology, even more unheard of. Acceptable reasons for laying off workers, severance pay, these are aspects of capitalism that are just coming into widespread practice in China. Here is still a time and business culture where making money is the only ethic.

"It was like a miracle, them admitting they were wrong." The woman was a devout Christian like Mr. Barret. Her miracle was a sincere apology from a big company and a sum of money just enough to buy a quality piano.

It was generously accepted.

This story is true, and I have no reason to doubt it. I spoke with Mr. Barret about my studies in Chinese, about my searching for a soul in Shanghai. I expressed to him my desire to help people and do something bigger and more meaningful, that when i think of doing good I get excited, motivated, and everything becomes clear...even in a murky place like Shanghai. He told me that even though i am not a Christian, he felt that I had a lot of the values Christianity is about.

Whether this would help me during Judgement, he said he didn't know. We said we would meet again and wished each other luck.

I have not, though I have given thought, become Christian. I have not followed a spiritual path as of yet. I have not even found my niche in Shanghai yet.

But I think i am getting there, and whatever the path may be, I will follow it.