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.
No comments:
Post a Comment