Thursday, November 24, 2011

China Is Not Japan


It is hard to believe that when I chose to come to China a few years ago, I actually had the option of spending my Far East experience in Japan instead. I even went as far as to learn basic Japanese language skills and became endeared to that country's culture and history. In fact, while factoring-through my decision to come to Beijing, I made the mistake of considering Japan and China as similar in a lot of ways: I thought China was a modern, technologically-advancing, economic powerhouse with cities filled with skyscrapers and people busily moving into the 22nd century.

Living in America, so far away from the region, causes you to think these things. Of course, it turned out that the two countries could not be more different in every respect, and China was more like the Flintstones than the Jetsons.

I could have understood it sooner by looking at the recent history between China and Japan. The imperial Japanese of the early 20th century took over China in a brutal occupation, a fact that today's Chinese will never forget. But then, after Japan was beaten in World War II, the country rebuilt itself into a world-leader in business and economics, something that China could have done if it wasn't for its political system, its huge and fractious population, and its failure to open up to the rest of the world.

But it goes a lot deeper than that. The Japanese are simply a kind, humble people. They seem to value kinship and sacrifice. They are even polite when they crowd each other onto subway trains. They are friendly to foreign investment. Their bullet trains don't crash into ravines.

In short, Japan seems to be everything that mainland China is not. There are no hip Chinese kids getting their radical fashion groove on in the flashy shopping districts. There are no unbearably cute Chinese television programs featuring young female pop singers. There are no cosplaying people randomly performing on the urban sidewalks. There are no computer scientists inventing robots to help the elderly live a better life.

In the end, of course, it will all come full circle. Japan's work force continues to shrink; its birth rate keeps falling, and its elderly population is growing fast. It has newfound qualms about high technology and nuclear energy. China is destined to take over as the region's dominant nation.

It all just points to the obvious fact that China is not Japan. And don't get me started comparing it to South Korea.

Friday, November 11, 2011

The Culture Shock Trifecta


I recall Beijing tried a civility campaign in the months preceding 2008 and the Olympic games. The city hoped to improve the general manners and attitude of its residents, and make them more welcoming to the foreigners who would soon show up for the event. It even tried to convince taxi drivers and police officers to learn English.

Now that a few years have passed, I figure we can pretty much declare that little experiment a total failure. Leave the lessons in good manners to London 2012. Who knew that England would need them more than China ever did?

Be that as it may, business and tourism travelers arriving in Beijing brainwashed by the stories of modernization and development should take note that China still inflicts a high degree of culture shock. It's a shame that so many Americans stroll through the financial district of Hong Kong or Shanghai and come home bragging that they've seen China. You have no right to make that claim until you've experienced China's Culture Shock Trifecta in an inland city like Beijing.

Spitting: I've actually met foreigners who have lived here long enough to ignore this nasty habit, until they think about walking anywhere barefoot, including indoors. Even wearing sandals won't make you safe in the Capital.

Public Urination: I place this habit behind spitting, because Beijingers don't have enough public restrooms. In a city with more than 15-million residents, there could be an indoor toilet shack on every other block and it still would not be enough. On the other hand, people of Beijing, why not at least walk behind a bush or a tree to do the deed? Just pretend there's a door, and imagine using some make-believe toilet paper while you're at it.

Busting In Line: This is at the top of the list, by a huge margin. You can always bet on a jet-lagged foreigner arriving in Beijing, already weary of waiting in a line for everything from airport bathrooms to baggage claim, finally getting a chance to hungrily queue up at a fast-food counter, only to have some stranger just barge-in as if he OWNS the hot-dog stand.

The overt, non-blinking rudeness of Beijingers is what will drive the traveler over the edge every time. Of course, just getting to the edge might be tough. Imagine the crowd he'd face there.

Doraemon

Over the years, I've been trying to come up with the definitive symbol to represent things, thoughts, or ideas that are utterly foreign to Beijing visitors, but widely familiar to people who live here. You know, things that cause the locals to consider you stupid for NOT knowing about, like using chopsticks or interpreting calligraphy. In the United States, these things would be rules like "don't break in line," and "look both ways before crossing the street." Things that we consider to be common sense, but concepts which Beijingers have never heard of in their lives.
I finally found that symbol in a ubiquitous cartoon character called Doraemon.

Doraemon is, for lack of a better description, a blue talking robot cat from the future. It is probably more-recognized in Asian countries than either Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck. Why Doraemon does not have its own dedicated theme park chain is beyond me, but it does have a hefty endorsement deal, visible on all sorts of products ranging from refrigerator magnets to boxes of instant noodles.

One thing that makes Doraemon most interesting to me is this: it is just about the only thing from Japan which Chinese people love. Keep in mind that the Japanese will never be forgiven, especially in Beijing, for their imperial reign of terror during World War II. But somehow, the cartoon cat and his pals have risen far above it and become idolized for generations, ever since the series was introduced in manga form and proceeded to regional anime stardom some 40 years ago.

The biggest problem I have with Doraemon, with the exception that it doesn't have ears yet apparently enjoys perfect hearing, is that everyone expects foreigners to know about it, and they are idiots if they don't. If I ran into someone in Beijing who had never heard of Garfield the cat (and there are a lot of Chinese who haven't, believe me), I would be happy to explain everything about the feline furball from Muncie, Indiana. When I profess ignorance about Doraemon in Beijing, all I get is:

"Doraemon? Of course, it is the blue talking robot cat from the future. Everyone knows this."

Me: "But what's his story? What's with the goofy theme song? Why do his friends look like they were bused from Fat Albert's neighborhood in North Philly?"

Beijinger: "Doraemon? Of course, it is the blue talking robot cat from the future. Everyone knows this."

Me: "How far in the future? And why doesn't he ever say anything in English? Don't they have English in the future?

Beijinger: "Doraemon? Of course, it is the blue talking robot cat..."

Me: "Oh, never mind."

The point is, as usual, when you are in an Asian country, just about everyone there is from that country. Immigration, at least the way we know it in the West, has never happened. In mainland China, the chances that you will be born, grow up, go to school, live, work, and eventually die without meeting anyone from another part of the world are still way up there. The idea of running into a non-Chinese person in China is a crazy notion that ranks barely below science fiction.

Speaking of which, I finally found out that Doraemon is from the 22nd century. Hey, that's not all that far from now. I'm sure the Chinese will have invented flying cars by then, which means no one will need to learn any silly rules about looking around before crossing the street in Beijing.