音乐会: Jurassic 5 Concert

Chaoyang, 24ºC, scattered showers

A friend on the programme is really keen on the band Jurassic 5. I must admit I am not at all familiar with the group, nor am I well versed in their DJ style. However, I thought it would make for a different music experience compared with my classical training.

The DJ was a cool and lively figure on the stage with all of his DJ equipment. A close up camera feed was projected onto a projector by the bar, and rather than be caught up in the sweaty crowd on the main floor, we decided to sit back and enjoy the show in front of this projector.

I had never experienced a concert like it. Lights flashing and shining in all directions, seemingly co-ordinated with every move the DJ made. He mixed song after song, an everlasting source of music. As a classical musician, I would typically reject such music, but I was taken in by the occasion, the lights, the music, the atmosphere. The performance didn’t exactly blow me away, but I certainly enjoyed this new musical experience.

舞美: Chinese Supermarket

UIBE, 32ºC, hazy

Over the past six weeks, I have made daily trips to the 潮湿 local grocery store and 7-Eleven, but I have not been into a large hypermarkets. Today, I needed to buy a few toiletries that the潮湿 local store did not stock, so I ventured to a hypermarket.

I had walked into an Asda, I was sure. The only difference was that all the labels were in Chinese. The舞美 hypermarket offered everything: clothes, stationary, electronics, home appliances, food. As I made my way to the toiletries section, I observed dozens of sales assistants everywhere. I guessed they were there to help you if needed help, but considering there were hardly any customers at the time, I was a little bemused at how many people were on shift. They weren’t even stocking shelves – they were literally just standing there.

When I came to pay, there was a long queue, and just one till. Yet several unoccupied shop employees were watching on as we customers waited at the single checkout that was open. It didn’t make any sense to me – pure bemusement!

面子: Giving respect, saving face

UIBE, 26ºC, overcast

Earlier in the programme, our teachers introduced us to the concept of 面子 “mianzi”. Although it sounds very similar to the idea of saving face in English, our teachers insisted that there is no direct translation into English. However, the concept is powerful, and it seems to me that 面子 is very much entrenched in Chinese society. From family to education, from image to the treatment of others, 面子 is very important.

One of the most common scenarios in which we applied this 生词 new word was in the context of respecting our teachers. In China, students do not answer back to their teachers because that does not give their teachers面子. In the same way, our teachers told us that we must always give面子 to them both inside and outside the classroom. In a hierarchical way, the teachers would have to give面子 to their superiors (i.e. more senior teachers).

I fear that many students both in England and in the US have lost the meaning of “respect your elders”. Too many students are too full of themselves. As students, they believe education should be geared to them, when in fact they could learn a few things from the concept of面子.

意大利菜: Italian food

UIBE, 31ºC, hazy

I was persuaded by a couple of friends to go to an Italian restaurant for dinner tonight. I should have learnt from the “Western” breakfast we were served in Xi’an that Italian food in Beijing would hardly be stellar. I opted for a lasagne, and found it eatable, if unremarkable. There was little taste in it, and I paid a premium for eaten European food in China. I could have bought three bowls of noodles for this one lasagne! Good to know for next time.

“不可以”: Taxis on strike

UIBE, 28ºC, hazy

Across most of Europe and in America, if you hail a taxi, the driver must take you to where you ask. Not in China. Last Friday, five taxis no less refused to take three of us to the 798. When we left the 798, two taxi drivers were smoking a cigarette, and turned us away while they enjoyed their little break.

I certainly find it surprising that a taxi driver might choose to turn down business. But taxi fares in Beijing are not based on a combination of distance and time, but fares solely take into account distance. So if you want to travel to the other side of Beijing during rush hour, it is probably not worth the time of the driver to sit in traffic for more than an hour to do a journey that would take 20 minutes in light traffic. That being said, I only ever expected French taxi drivers to go on strike!

非洲: This Time for Africa

Sanlitun, 31ºC, sunny

This is a very exciting year for Africa. With the successful conclusion of the first World Cup to be hosted in Africa, South Africa, indeed the whole continent of Africa, has a lot to be proud about. What better day to demonstrate this than today, Mandela Day.

I had been tipped off by a friend that there would be an event celebrating Mandela Day at a coffee shop in Sanlitun hosted by the Young African and Professionals Society (YAPS). I was not entirely sure what to expect, but having been intrigued by the vibrant African community at UIBE, my host university, I wanted to gauge the cohesiveness of the African community across the city.

There were about 100 people squeezed into the side room of the Book Trader, a big crowd for the space. There were speeches praising the unity Africa finds in celebrating its diversity, praising the success of the World Cup, and praising the work of Nelson Mandela himself. The Chinese head of the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) gave a speech that drew attention to constantly improving relations between China and Africa. This is currently a hot topic in the study of international relations, and so hearing warm words towards Africa right from the horse’s mouth made this event all the more interesting.

对不起，天门关门: Sorry, the Gate of Heaven is closed today

红螺寺 Hongluo Temple, 31ºC, sunny

This weekend’s excursion took us to the Hongluo Temple, a revered Buddhist complex of temples, hills, bells and gates. Located about an hour outside Beijing, our teachers told us that people often came here for spiritual reasons.

We had a couple of hours free to roam around this complex. As I walked past a pond covered with beautiful pink lilies, I noticed a sign: 天门 the Gate of Heaven. I decided to follow it. I walked around the corner and found myself at the foot of some steps. Many steps. Along with three other students on the course, I climbed and climbed and climbed. It seemed that this staircase would never end. But after about 30 minutes of climbing in the burning heat of the scorching sun, we made it to the top of the peak. The first peak.

The signs kept on directing us up, and we continued to climb. After another 20 minutes or so of climbing, we did finally make it. To the entrance of 天门 the Gate of Heaven. But the Entrance was closed. We asked some Chinese people if they knew why it was closed. 三点，天门关门. At 3pm, the Gate of Heaven closes. It was 3.30pm. Perhaps we were not worthy, but at least we made it that far.

七九八: the 798 Art District

798, 31ºC, sunny intervals

Whether it be the ornate brush strokes of calligraphy, the beautiful landscapes of famous mountains, or portraits of the Four Beauties, I have always admired traditional Chinese art. The 798 Art District presents a completely difference side of Chinese art: more modern, edgy, innovative, the 798 has works I had never imagined before. Take, for example, this stone sculpture of a car. You can actually sit inside it!

With two other classmates from the programme, we wondered from gallery to gallery, viewing, indeed experiencing, art of all forms. Still life, photographic art, scrapyard art, this place is so eclectic. Photos do more justice than words here, so please enjoy!

邮局: the Post Office

UIBE, 25ºC, scatters showers

When I arrived in Beijing, my bags were already overflowing. 然后我买东西 Then I starting buying things, lots of things. It dawned on me that transporting everything home would be nigh on impossible. So today, I went to the post office, hoping that I would be able to ship a fairly large box of belongings home.

My post office vocabulary (from week 1) needed refreshing, so this was a good test of my Chinese, especially considering no one in the post office spoke a word of English. I successfully bought a box, enquired about different shipping methods and prices and asked them to seal up the box. The one mistake I made was to not ask how much it cost before they sealed my box. When the cashier told me how much it cost, she sounded almost apologetic. I was a little aghast, and was even more concerned when I discovered that they only accept cash. The only record I had was a little piece of paper that had some numbers scribbled on it. At least there was an electronic tracking number!

交通堵塞问题: Beijing’s traffic problems

UIBE, 28ºC, overcast

北京有交通堵塞问题。Despite having vast ring road that make concentric circles around the heart of Beijing, despite providing an endless array of buses, despite charging just 2元 (20p) for a ride on the underground, Beijing has severe traffic problems. Private ownership of cars has risen dramatically as many Beijingers have cashed in on China’s recent economic prosperity. The result is that there seems to be eternal rush hour in some parts.

On a Friday afternoon at 3pm, I was stuck in gridlock on the third ring road. It was in this traffic jam that I noticed a fascinating phenomenon – bus convoys. This is my own term, but I think it quite accurately describes the reality. When there is heavy traffic, buses help each other out. They yield for other buses, and create a driving column of buses. I spotted one poor mini stuck in the middle of a line of six double decker buses. This is traffic bullying in its most cruel form.

眼睛市场: The Glasses Market

Jinsong, 26ºC, overcast

There are markets all over Beijing. I have already been to the Silk Market, one of the most magnetic to tourists, and Panjiayuan, the largest antique market in Beijing. Today with a couple of classmates, I made a trip to the glasses market.

Imagine Harrods only sold glasses. Boutique after boutique crammed in side by side. Every type of glasses you ever imagined. This was the glasses market. The three of us browsed from shop to shop, looking at different styles, looking at prices. When they realised we weren’t Chinese (as our Chinese is still far from native!), many 老板 shopkeepers asked, 你们是韩国人吧？ “Are you Korean?” This left me a little bemused at every turn!

After a good couple of hours of browsing, I eventually decided on a pair of black thick-rimmed glasses. They would offer a good contrast to my rimless glasses. After a brief exchange, I bartered the price down from 200元 to 120元, and the deal was done. Here comes the amazing bit: the shopkeeper then measured my rimless glasses for my prescription and told me to come back in half an hour. Thirty minutes later, lo and behold, my brand new glasses were ready. I found it astounding how quickly they had managed to cut the lenses and fit the frames, all for about £12 ($17).

以前的学生: From teacher to student

UIBE, 24ºC, overcast

The past three summers, I have taught Chinese students English on a one-month long summer course hosted by a school in England. The experience of standing in a teacher’s shoes allows me to identify with teacher’s frustrations and jubilations the world over. Thankfully for me, my own students were all very dedicated and hard-working.

Today, I had the pleasure of eating with two of my former students. Beyond (left) and Vicky (right) were my students two summers ago. 老师 “Teacher”, Beyond used to address me. Her unwavering respect always impressed me. It was incredible to see how two of my former students had matured into two driven, successful young ladies. Next year, they will both be attending Qinghua, an Oxbridge of China.

When I last saw Beyond and Vicky, they were only allowed to speak in English, and I knew no Chinese. Two years on, I felt like I had taken on the role of student myself, only speaking in Chinese (except for the odd word…) and learning new words from both of them. Their patience was admirable, and made me wonder if they might one day teach too.

在西安的游客: Touring Xi'an

Xi’an, 33ºC, sunny

Helen had told us the previous night that a special Western breakfast would be served for us from 8am. A Western breakfast, indeed: we had a choice of sausage, eggs, boiled tomatoes and other staples of a cooked breakfast, croissants, brioche and other continental bites, and noodles and Chinese dumplings (this is China, after all). Many of the other students on the programme were relieved at the chance to eat “Western” food, but the food seemed to taste different. A fried egg is a fried egg, but eating Western food in China didn’t quite feel right. As our teachers had told us, 我们渐渐习惯中国生活 we had gradually got used to Chinese life, including Chinese food.

As I ate breakfast, I scanned the room in search of Helen, but she was nowhere to be seen. I was relieved when our guide came in a little after 8.30am, announcing that we would be leaving at 9am. Our first stop of the day was at the Wild Goose Pagoda in the centre of Xian. The name is somewhat misleading, but the building is essentially a tallish tower (see below). I climbed to the top to take in the view of a surprisingly expansive city. Wide roads spanned north, south, east and west from near the tower, indicating that we were right at the heart of the city.

Our next stop was the Great Mosque. Of historical and religious importance, the Great Mosque is one of the most revered places of worship in China for Muslims. Everyone had to cover their shoulders during this visit, so the girls were given large scarves to cover themselves. At the heart of the Mosque, one could make out inscriptions of ancient scripts. The craftsmanship that went into this Mosque is truly phenomenal.

By evening, we had returned to the train station, and set off on our 11 hour return journey to Beijing. Our time in Xian had been so brief, but thanks to Helen’s guidance, we had been exposed to many of China’s former capital’s relics.

A day in the life: a Xi’an tour guide

西安 Xi’an, 27ºC, sunny

“Your tour guide’s English name is Helen. Helen will take you on a tour of Xi’an today.” I had never met anyone who constantly referred to themselves in the third person. Nor did I ever expect to meet a Chinese tour guide who did exactly that. “Helen will take you biking along the city walls.” She did. It was, in fact, only my eleventh time riding a bike, so I was a little 担心 nervous. But I managed not to fall off in the 45 minutes we had cycling along Xian’s stunning city walls under the sizzling overhead sun.

“Helen will take you to eat the lunch now.” And just as Helen said, we were whisked away in our coach to a restaurant. Helen’s English is far better than my Chinese, but I couldn’t help but laugh to myself every time she referred to herself in the third person. After a dumpling infused lunch of local cuisine, Helen took us to see the Terracotta Army, Xian’s most treasured site.

The Terracotta army was built under Emperor Qin’s instruction to protect his tomb in the afterlife. It took more than 700,000 people almost four decades to build these terracotta figures, their horses and their chariots. Every single figure is different, with clothing and moustaches indicating rank. They were all intricately painted one by one before being enclosed by their imposing mausoleum. Yet as the Qin dynasty fell, uprisings brought soldiers to the site of the terracotta army. They razed everything, with not a single figure escaping their ruthless devastation. The terracotta army was lost and forgotten for nearly two thousand years.

Then one day a farmer was building a well. As he dug deep into the ground, he came across the remnants of a terracotta soldier. He had made one of the biggest archaeological discoveries of the century. This farmer has received great acclaim, and Helen shared a funny anecdote of the time he met then President Bill Clinton. Unable to speak English, the farmer had been given a quick crash course so he could say a couple of basic phrases when he met the President.

“Who are you?” The farmer was so nervous, he said “who” instead of “how”.

“I am Hilary’s wife,” was the President’s reply, humoured.

“Me too.”

Helen had booked dinner at the Flourishing International Hotel. When we arrived, it was dead. When we left, it was also dead. But it was nice to have a huge banquet hall to ourselves, I suppose.

What does tomorrow have in store? Only Helen knows.

Helen, our delightful Xi'an tour guide

软卧: The Overnight Train

从北京到西安 From Beijing to Xian

Today, we set out on our midterm trip out of Beijing. About half of the students on the programme had chosen Xian as their weekend destination. Xian lies some 14 hours south-west of Beijing. Driving that far south of London would take you to the suburbs of Barcelona!

To cover the vast distances across the country, Chinese people tend to opt for a cheaper train rather than a quicker plane. Our teachers had told us the previous week that travelling by train gives you the opportunity to 交新中国朋友 make new Chinese friends, 尝当地的小吃 try local snacks, and 看好环境 to see the beautiful countryside. But travelling in a group of about 25 means that you tend not to meet new people, and travelling by night limits how much of the countryside you actually see.

However, there was one aspect of this train journey that was particularly distinguishing – the comfort. We had the luxury of 软卧 soft beds, the best tickets you can book on these trains. There were four beds to a cabin, two 上的upper and two 下的 lower ones. I was in an upper one. The reliable air conditioning, coupled with the soft mattress made our eleven hour journey pass by very quickly. I even slept better in this moving cabin than on the rock hard wood-like mattress we have back at UIBE! The journey was more comfortable and much quieter than overnight trains in Europe, which was a wonderful surprise. I must admit, I am quite looking forward to our train back to Beijing, so pleasant was this experience.

在上海的游客: Touring Shanghai

Thursday 8^th July, Shanghai, 25ºC, hazy

I was very fortunate to meet up with a Yale friend and her Shanghainese friend to do a whistle-stop tour of Shanghai. Two nights previously, I had managed to climb the 88 floors of the Jie Mao tower by night to see a spectacular view of the city skyline. But today, I set about visiting many of the sights I strained to see among the brightly lit skyscrapers.

Our first stop was the Bridge of Nine Turnings in 黄浦区 the Huang Pu District. This bridge zigzagged across a pretty lake. It was supposedly built to ward off demons, who it was believed were afraid of corners. In the surrounding area, there were a number of little shops, buildings that exhibited traditional Chinese architecture and food stalls that sold a number of local snacks. I allowed myself to buy a caricature fan: for this, I had to sit as motionless as possible focussing on a bamboo pole over the right shoulder of the artist. Some ten minutes later, and a several photos later (other tourists had taken to capturing the moment on camera!), I left the stall with a personalised fan in hand (see below).

Next, we went to the beautiful Yu Yuan gardens. This complex network of temples, gardens and ponds made for a peaceful respite from the hustle and bustle of the city around us. This picture really epitomises the beauty hidden behind the stone walls we passed through to enter the garden.

We spent time in other parts of the city during the afternoon, including 新天地 Xintiandi, a very modern shopping district, and a small art district that exhibited a whole range of traditional and modern Chinese art. I also couldn’t resist taking a photo with Haibao, mascot of the World Expo!

梁祝: World Expo Concert

Shanghai, 27ºC, sunny intervals

Today, Max played the most famous violin concerto in China at the World Expo. Instrumental figures from the Expo were present along with Chen Gang, the composer of the Butterfly Lovers.

My friend had played this concerto at his school leaving concert four years ago, and in that performance I had played the viola in the orchestra. At Max’s first note, memories of that performance came flooding back, memories of the tears that poured down the cheeks of some, memories of the tremendous reception. Very few audiences in England had heard the beautiful story of the Butterfly Lovers told through this magnificent concerto. Now, Max was playing it to the audience it was meant for.

Images of 梁山伯 Liang Shanbo and 祝英台 Zhu Yingtai’s love flashed through my mind as the Romeo and Juliet storyline unfurled. As the final coda played, I pictured Zhu Yingtai throwing herself into her lover’s grave, and a pair of beautiful butterflies fluttering away into the distance. The beauty of the storyline was matched by the softness of Max’s tone, and the reaction of the audience was a testament to his performance. Truly wonderful.

上海: A change of pace

Beijing, 38ºC, hazy; Shanghai, 29ºC, hazy

I had the great fortune to exchange the classroom for a couple of days in arguably China’s most modern and exciting city. My primary purpose in Shanghai is to see my best friend play the Butterfly Lover’s Concerto at the World Expo. The concert is tomorrow, but my first impressions of Shanghai are definitely worth noting.

Vibrant. Effervescent. International. As soon as I stepped off the plane, I knew I would take a liking to Shanghai. There are so many differences compared with Beijing: people dress more fashionably, everyone walks with purpose, the underground buzzes with many different languages. As I took the tube into the centre of Shanghai, I noticed one lady with blue and red toenails. Each nail was perfectly covered without a single blemish. This attention to detail drew me to how much it seems 上海人 Shanghai people care about their image. Most of the women I saw on the train were wearing carefully chosen make up, complementing their well-fitting dresses. Fashion seems so important here.

Once I had emerged from the underground, I found myself facing the longest commercial pedestrian street in the world. Magnificent, regal, commanding,　南京路 Nanjing Road was everything you see in the pictures. And more. I could feel the energy of the people. I felt like I had found the heartbeat of Shanghai within my first few hours. I have yet to find it in Beijing.

This bustling street captures the energy of Shanghai life

麦当劳: McDonalds Delivery

UIBE, 40ºC, sunny

Fast food is everywhere. I abhor it. McDonalds, KFC, Burger King, they follow you as closely as your shadow. And yet the discovery that McDonalds deliver to your doorstep in China was intriguing, compelling even. Late this evening, some of us decided to give it the litmus test.

11.30pm: call to McDonalds placing our order

11:35pm: call from McDonalds asking why weren’t outside our dorm

It literally took five minutes for our order of three happy meals (alas, yes…) to arrive on our doorstep. And we paid 7元 or about $1 for the privilege. You would struggle to find such service in the Ritz Carlton!

The cost was more or less on a par with US prices, making it seem relatively expensive. Yet Chinese people sometimes go to the likes of McDonalds on dates because it is trendy to eat “Western” food. Thankfully, fast food isn’t the only Western export to China.

一个采访: An interview in a park

–北土公园Beitu Park, 38ºC, sunny

This weekend, for our 作文 weekly essay, we were asked to go to 北土公园 a park near UIBE to interview a local Beijinger. Having grabbed a handful of baozi to eat en route, I walked some ten minutes from campus to the Beitu Park.

I descended from the brightly lit road and walked along the small river that ran through the park. Having walked along the back for some ten minutes, I found a group of five men listening to music and chatting under the dim lights that were scattered along the side of the river. Most of them were in their mid-20s, but one was older, perhaps in his 60s. A little nervous at speaking Chinese with a complete stranger, and equally nervous at trying to understand a broad Beijing (儿) accent, I approached the older man.

He seemed a little 糊里糊涂 confused at first. I was equally so, as I struggled to understand his accent. But after our first 30 seconds of interaction, he understood that I wanted to interview him. He did speak rather quickly, and didn’t seem to speak any slower once he had established that I am a foreign language student.

Our conversation did bring some life to the relatively deserted park. He spoke of how at sunrise old and young flock to the park to 锻炼 exercise, 打太极拳 to do tai chi, 跳舞 to dance, 下棋 to play chess, and even to 遛鸟 “take a stroll with one’s caged bird”. The latter activity seems to be a distinct Chinese activity, akin to walking your dog. Except these people carry a bird cage. Imagine dozens of Tweety Birds being taken to the park!

Perhaps the most surprising thing this man told me was that he came to the park to get some fresh air. The smog in Beijing is much less than when I last visited in 2006, but the haze still obscures the sun most days of the week. Nonetheless, for someone who lives by himself, coming to the park on a daily basis and witnessing such a varied crowd of people must help him keep young.

火车站: The biggest train station you have ever seen

北京南火车站: Beijing South Train Station, 37ºC, sunny

We hopped off the underground, ascended the escalators, swiped our tickets to pass through the ticket barrier and looked around us. There was a huge notice board with not a single word of English. I checked the train ticket. Train D59 was definitely not listed. I rechecked the ticket and found what looked like the gate number: 24. We went upstairs. Suddenly, we were in an airport terminal. Or so it seemed.

A few days ago, I found out that a good friend from school would be coming to China. I had booked Anthony’s train ticket to Qingdao, and had promised to help him navigate the Beijing public transport network to make sure he caught his train. Now, we found ourselves in the largest train terminal waiting area I have ever seen. Clean, calm, vast, this space seemed to take the best parts of an airport waiting area and put it in a train terminal. Quite incredible.

Anthony and I in Beijing South Train Station

唱歌KTV: Karaoke and an unexpected song

Wudaokou, 38ºC, sunny

Although it originates in Japan, karaoke is more prominent in Beijing than I previously imagined. A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to try out karaoke Chinese-style, and this evening I returned to the microphone. This karaoke bar, though, happened to be a little different. Located in Wudaokou, which is sometimes dubbed “Little Korea”, this one was 韩国的 Korean.

Being surrounding by singing (and not all the most tuneful!) for the first time in quite a while reminded me of my 一对一 one-on-one conversation session with 胡老师 one of my teachers yesterday. 听说你唱歌唱得很好 “I hear that you sing really well.” The teachers had been telling me this for the past few days now. 唱一个歌 “Sing.” She even leant back in her chair, arms crossed, in anticipation. Reluctantly, I sang a snippet of Hugo Wolf’s Verborgenheit.

In general, I have been surprised that none of the teachers on this programme still play a musical instrument. Indeed, having asked about ten teachers, I have not come across any teacher who has played an instrument beyond the age of 16. And yet most of the Chinese people I have met in England, America and on my travels were sat down at the piano aged 5, started the violin shortly after, and are generally very accomplished musicians along with whatever else they do. Nonetheless, they enjoy music very much, and have asked me on more than a few occasions to sing (I have only succumbed once so far…).

吐痰,插队: Chinese Habits

UIBE, 27C, light showers

Today, in the small on campus supermarket, a man cleared his throat loudly and spat on the floor. No shame. Yesterday, I was waiting to cross the road, and another man did exactly the same thing. Our teachers tell us that, thanks to some 政治性标语 government campaigning, fewer and fewer people spit nowadays. I would hate to think what it was like beforehand; without fail, every time I leave my dorm, I see someone spitting.

A couple of days ago, as I queued to order food at a restaurant counter, three people no less barged their way to the front and ordered before myself and the other two patient customers. Our teachers say that more and more Chinese people are learning to 排队 queue. Again, I wonder how life was in 20^th century China.

Of course, every country has its own cultural norms, and they should be respected. However, there are some daily habits that even the Chinese government acknowledges are 坏习惯 bad habits that should be eradicated – combating spitting and teaching people to queue are just two of a plethora of issues. On these issues alone, China still has a long way to go, but it is at least the government is trying.

An example of the signs the government has employed to discourage spitting. The habit continues, though.