Unleashing Your Inner Pop Star

Let's establish a few things:

1)  Every Chinese person is a pop star at heart
2)  Chinese people love to let the inner pop star shine

Yes, the Chinese are not like Americans, who generally reserve their tuneless wailings for either the car or the shower.  Chinese people will sing in public at the drop of a hat.  Some examples:

• It is not uncommon for a student to be cajoled into singing an a cappella solo at one of my free talks.  
• I have often walked through campus on a Saturday morning to the backdrop of some truly mediocre performances at campus song competitions.
• Perhaps the single most popular social activity for young people is going to KTV (karaoke) with their friends.
• "Parties" in China are not parties at all, in our sense of the word; they are talent shows, and the main talent (or sometimes lack thereof) is singing.

As a non-Chinese, I am sadly lacking the inner pop star.  My singing is a little pitchy and the only songs I know from beginning to end are Christmas songs, kids' songs, and worship songs.  However, this doesn't stop me from being constantly requested to sing -- in class, at free talks, and at performances.  No one ever bothers to check if I can actually sing or if I like to, because they don't care if I can sing and why wouldn't I like it?

When backed into a corner, I usually try to mollify the students with a short rendition of "The Itsy Bitsy Spider," which is probably disappointing because they are surely expecting one of their English KTV favorites:  "Country Roads," "My Heart Will Go On," "I'm a Big Big Girl in a Big Big World," or anything by the Backstreet Boys or Westlife.

A few days ago, Sara and I went to KTV with a few of our students.  In Asian-style karaoke, you get your own room, usually equipped with crazy flashing lights, a couple mics, and some tambourines.  It's fun because you're with your friends, and no one cares if you sing badly.  KTV is still not my favorite thing ever, but after 2.5 years in China it might be growing on me.

Recently our department threw a huge gala to welcome the freshmen.  They hired a professional company to do the staging, sounds, lights, and fireworks (of course), and invited various talented students and teachers to give performances.  The foreign teachers were also requested to sing (of course).  We figured we better do something, so three of my teammates and I worked up a very cheesy performance of "Lean on Me."  I agreed on the condition that I would be allowed to hold my mic as far away as possible. 

So we performed to a crowd of hundreds.  About 30 seconds into our song, four students came running up to give us flowers while we sang -- another quirky and extremely common feature of public singing performances.  I knew I wasn't contributing much in the singing department, so I just tried to smile a lot.  The end result is that we looked better than we sounded.... considerably better.

Lean on Me

Our big finale

Fortunately, this is my blog, so I can just leave you the pictures and keep the video to myself.  Here are a few other photos from the event:

Students were watching from the classrooms above.

Our vice-dean, quite the crooner

Our vice-dean, after the delivery of flowers and a lei

The crowd

Some of the Korean department leaders

Students giving department leaders flowers while they sing

Lisa, my student, was one of the hosts.  (The department also hired professional make-up artists for the performers -- they always go for the glam at these kinds of events.)

Some teachers and performers after the event.  The four hosts are in the middle.  (There are always four.)  Sara and I get a kick out of our student, Lee, the host near the middle whose hair is dominating the entire picture.

And now when you hear about...

• KTV-crazed kiddos...
• the undying popularity of boy bands in Asia...
• a normally staid department dean belting out a pitchy pop song on stage...
• performers being given mountains of flowers, balloons, and glow sticks on stage...

...and ask yourself, "Is this normal?", you'll know the answer: YES.  Now go unleash your inner pop star.  (Can I suggest a little Celine Dion?)

Social Norms

What makes crossing cultures so complicated?  Many things, and here's one I've been thinking about lately:  We grow up thinking a certain way of doing things is the way everyone does them.  When we encounter a new culture, we know some of these things will be different, but it's surprising how often we assume differences that don't really exist, and how often we take for granted things that are fundamentally different.

Today, in a twist on my series "Is this Normal? (Yes)," I will talk about our mutually faulty assumptions of normal and how I noticed them when visiting my student.

Exhibit A:  At the table.  While picnicking with my student and her family, someone pulled out a canister of pigs' ears.  I was asked, do I want one?  I politely declined but was pressed, so I crunched my way through a single pig ear and watched the show unfold.  There were only a couple pairs of chopsticks at our picnic, so Rita's mom took to using the chopsticks to feed interested party members directly.  If they demurred, she forced the pig ear to their lips until they took it and started to chew.  A good time was had by all.

Their normal:  Eating pigs' ears.

My normal:  Not eating pigs' ears.

Their normal:  Force feeding.

My normal:  Offering once or twice and giving up.

Their normal:  Communal eating and free exchange of germs.

My normal:  If it touched your mouth, it can't touch the serving bowl.

Epilogue:

Their normal:  Contented burps.

My normal:  Hold it in.

Exhibit B:  At home.  Every evening when we got back home, all the family members would take a shower in turn, change into PJs, watch TV in their bedrooms, and go to sleep.  The shower was in a separate building that also housed the washing machine and toilet.  The bed, which I shared with Rita, was "comfortable" in her words, but so hard for me that I actually checked in the morning to see if there was a mattress of if we were sleeping directly on wood.

Their normal:  Shower at night.  Use hand-towels to dry off.

My normal:  Shower in the morning.  Where's my nice, big towel?

Their normal:  Hard mattresses.

My normal:  Soft mattresses.

Exhibit C:  Family relationships and titles.  Rita has zillions of aunts, uncles, and cousins, which she calls by their titles rather than their names.  So I met Aunt #1, Aunt #2, and various cousins and in-laws.  Rita told me she once visited her grandmother in the hospital and embarrassed herself by seeing the name on the door and not knowing that it was her grandma's -- she never had heard her referred to by her name.  This type of naming is further complicated by the fact that every family friend older than Rita is also her "aunt" or "uncle," and her peer relatives are various forms of "sister" and "brother."  She has one cousin that she just calls "Fatty."

Their normal:  Titles rather than names.

My normal:  Names rather than titles, usually.  And I know my grandparents' names even if I don't call them that.

Exhibit D:  Going visiting.  On my last day, Rita's aunt #2 called her and asked if we wanted to come over.  Rita said yes but didn't say when, and eventually we went.  When we arrived at her very nice apartment (the front door of which was curiously embossed with the Olympic Bird's Nest), Aunt #2 immediately invited us into her bedroom.  She was sitting on her bed in her nightgown working on a gigantic cross-stitch and watching a period drama on TV.  Rita and I also sat on the bed and nibbled on the lychees and corn on the cob that were offered, while chatting with her aunt and admiring the cross-stitch.

Their normal:  More openness for visitors.  Sure, come into the bedroom.  Who cares if I'm in my PJs?

My normal:  Don't invite someone unless the living room is mostly clean and I'm dressed for the day.

Their normal:  Offer copious snacks and tea to visitors, including random stuff like freshly boiled corn.

My normal:  "Do you want something to drink?"

The reason these differences can throw you for a loop is because each side assumes its own normal carries over to the other side.  Rita wouldn't think to explain to me, "Oh, we'll probably just sit on Aunt's bed and eat corn, and after awhile she'll ask us if we want to visit my uncle's office," so I didn't know until I got there.  And everyone would be surprised if I tried to shower in the morning.  And Rita's mother wouldn't think it would be off-putting for me to eat the huge lump of fat hanging off the pig foot she just gave me.  And I was confused by the fishing poles because ours are different.  And I didn't know in advance when I went to change clothes after river rafting that I would walk into a room of naked ladies.

So I remained perpetually taken off guard by things that were normal for them but never explained to me.  For example, Rita's family eats all their meals in their shop, not their house.  How could I have known that?  But no one told me, because it was so normal for them.

On Exams

My student Kevin decided he wants to go to grad school.  The entrance exam is in January.  The April before, he moved out of his dorm into an apartment in order to have a quieter place to study.  From that time forward, he has spent most days studying 8 to 12 hours.  He spent some school breaks taking additional politics classes that might help his chances on that part of the exam.  He calls ahead his orders at his favorite restaurant to save an extra few minutes for study.  His main activity for the last nine months of his life has been studying for a single test.  Is this normal?  For many of my students, yes.

Exam culture enjoys a long history in China.  In days gone by, you could advance into official-dom by scoring well on a test.  In the present day, a lot of people still see exams as the golden ticket to success.  For this reason, people around here take their exams very, very seriously.

My first really good Chinese friends were some neighbors in grad school.  This couple moved to the U.S. so he could pursue an engineering Ph.D.  Her plan for the year was to study for the GRE.  My roommates and I felt sorry for her -- we were sure she would be lonely and bored, since all she had to do for a whole year was study for one exam.  Ah, how silly we were.

We didn't know that it was not only common but expected that a serious student would treat exam preparation as a full-time job -- morning to night, day after day, for months on end.  This came as a shock to someone like me, who didn't start studying for the GRE until the night before, when I made the unhappy and stomach-sinking discovery that I had less than a day to learn long division.

I have written before about the Gao Kao ("Big Test" -- the College Entrance Exam), which dominates the average Chinese student's life from the time he enters primary school until he mercifully graduates from high school.  The exam insanity does not end here.

College students take exams for all manner of things.  They take standardized tests to get "certificates" which certify their competency in computers or business English or some other marketable skill.  They have to take a standardized leveling test for their ability to use Mandarin Chinese.  Our students take a couple big English tests (after 4 and 8 semesters of study) to verify their English level.  These types of skill-verification can help students get jobs in the future.

And then, as graduation looms, scary new exams appear on the horizon.  Want to go to grad school?  Exam.  Want to get a job?  (Often) exam.

Even grad students are not immune.  For example, my tutor is a 2nd year masters student trying to decide what to do next.  She has already taken the extremely competitive civil servant's exam, which can get you a cushy government job, but only if you end up in the top 1%.  She also wants to try testing into a teaching position in a high school in her hometown.  If she does well enough on the exam (competing against about 200 other equally qualified candidates), she will be granted a job interview.

And now I'll get to my point:  The grad school entrance exam is today, January 15, and close to 100 of my former students are taking it.  My university is well-known for students taking and passing this exam -- about 80% attempt it.  It's a brutal exam, because you compete for only one school.  For example, if I want to get into a grad program at Beijing Foreign Studies University, I only take that specific test.  If I can't get a spot in that program, I have to wait a year and try again, either at that school or perhaps an easier one.

I asked a few students how they're feeling about the exam.  In spite of months of full-time study, many of them feel under-prepared:

• "Keep cramming till I get sick.  Kidding!  I am trying my best while expecting the worst."
• "I am a little nervous and doubt myself."
• "I haven't study for a long time.  Now I worry a lot."
• "The 'big day' finally comes.  Now I want to finish it as soon as possible."
• "I'm fine, although a little worried and a little nervous.  Hope I'll be lucky."
• "To be frank, I don't think I can pass the post-graduate examination, regarding my far-from enough preparation... So, here I am, decided to give it a shot even though this is not the best time.  After it, I will go back home immediately for the teacher's exam."

Ah, China, you and your exams.  Please be thinking of my precious students as they hope for a pay-off on their hundreds of hours of preparation.

Are these normal?

Well guys, we've been slowly chipping away at the mountain of things that are "normal" here but would raise eyebrows back home. I'm having fun writing this series, but there is just way too much material to do it all justice. So today, I'll just toss out a bunch of cultural norms that I may or may not ever get around to writing about in detail:

• Wearing your clothes multiple days in a row
• Wearing your coat inside
• Tossing bones and other non-edibles directly on the table when eating
• Slurping noodles
• Running up on stage to give a performer a bouquet while he is singing
• Addressing people by their titles ("Teacher," "Administrator," "Older Sister") rather than their names
• Covering your mouth with your hand when you laugh (girls)
• Carrying your girlfriend's purse (boys)
• Learning stuff by memorizing and reciting long passages
• Having your baby soon after marriage
• Denying compliments ("Who, me?")
• Eating chicken feet and pig feet
• Paying with cash
• Spitting on the street (men)
• Having romantic pop songs as your ring tone (all genders, all ages)
• Getting IV antibiotics whenever you are sick
• Bargaining
• Singing off-key

Ah, I feel better getting all those on the page. Maybe I should start keeping a running list of all the nutty things that have somehow started to seem normal. Of course, I've given you mostly surface stuff, but there's a deeper level of "normal" that would probably include things like:

• Saving face
• Keeping face
• Giving face
• Cultivating mutually beneficial relationships
• Being devoted to your parents
• Submitting to your superiors
• Conforming
• Respecting the elderly
• Cultivating economic development
• Being patriotic
• Maintaining harmony at all costs
• Solving problems through intermediaries

But these are not quite so entertaining, so I'll stop there for now. Good night!

Drink More Hot Water

Yesterday my teammate Mallary taught an aerobics class to a group of her sophomore students. I went and tried to follow along, and it was really fun! At the end of the hour, everyone was sweaty and tired -- both Mallary (who was wearing a tank top) and the students (who were working out in long underwear and sweaters). The students didn't want to take any layers off, but they quenched their thirst with a few swigs of hot water from their thermoses. This kind of behavior can't be normal... can it?

This post will begin with a simple observation that Chinese people drink hot water. Then I will veer off into the realm of unsolicited medical advice, and end with a reflection on a central theme in Chinese ideas about health.

First, drinking hot water. People here drink hot water, not cold. You can get near-boiling water in most places -- restaurants, trains, offices, airports, homes, and (if none is available) from your thermos that you carry everywhere. This is especially handy for making tea and instant noodles without the aid of a microwave or stove.


If you happen to be under the weather, you will almost certainly be advised to drink more hot water. This cure-all is generally suggested along with a host of other unsolicited medical advice. For example, Sarah, one of the American teachers, recently had a cold. After class, a student gave her a hand-written note with four pieces of advice, including the standards (drink more hot water, wear more clothes) and one that I never heard before (wash your face well, especially your nose).

This sort of thing happens all the time. Friends and strangers in China are always telling you what to do -- it's one way to show that you care about someone. They will tell you what to eat and what not to eat, what to wear and what not to wear, when you should get married (and to whom), when to have a baby, how to care for said baby, and the list goes on. One time I was eating a meal with a few students when one of them piped up that I needed more exercise. The reason? She noticed that I don't have very big half-moon shapes at the base of my fingernails, which is a traditional sign that I'm not getting enough blood flow.

Sometimes this advice strikes me as a little funny, because I still haven't gotten used to Chinese ideas about health. Westerners tend to think about sickness in terms of germs and contagions: If you keep your hands clean and stay away from sickies, you will stay healthy. But Chinese seem to think about sickness in terms of hot and cold: If you avoid cold things, or maintain the proper balance between hot and cold, you will be healthy. This explains why people cheerfully share communal bowls of food at every meal, but will not take off their jackets during aerobics because they don't want to catch a cold.

This also explains why:

• Babies are overdressed
• New moms aren't supposed to shower for a month (because the water will make them cold, thus risking illness)
• You shouldn't sit on cold surfaces
• Girls won't eat or drink anything cold during a certain time of month
• People drink hot water instead of cold

And now we've come full circle. Next time you have a cold, drink more hot water! I do it all the time and it really does make me feel better.

All About Bikes

The scene: Dozens of cyclists are jockeying for position as they bike down a crowded street. All of them are wearing helmets. Is this normal? No. At least not in China, where I have yet to see a local wearing a bike helmet.

In today's post, we will take a look at what constitutes "normal" bike behavior in Qufu. What gear, attitudes, and behaviors will make you look like a local?

1. Your Bike and Other Accouterments
Common types of bikes in Qufu include the following:

• The electric bike (very popular -- makes up perhaps half of the two-wheeled vehicles on the road)
• The standard single-speed
• The small-wheeled portable
• The rusted octogenarian

Almost every bike comes equipped with a basket in front and a seat in back. We are in the business of practicality here, not recreation. Once you have your bike, you're going to need some gear:

• Bike lock: No one locks their bike to anything, and I have never seen a bike rack in town. You just put a lock through the back wheel so the bike can't be ridden and then park it wherever it's convenient.
• Mitts: These bulky hand-warmers are permanently attached to most bike handles in the winter months. They also double as boxing gloves if you get into a fist fight.
• Face Mask: Another winter accessory, this will keep your face warm and cute while warding off any flu or pollution particles.
• (Boys only): A girlfriend for the back seat: Very romantic! But actually, anyone can share a bike.
  
• Headlight or reflectors for night riding: Hahaha -- just kidding! Only electric bikes have lights, although we all ride at night.

2. The proper attitude
Wrong: High heeled boots should not be worn while biking.
Right: These heels look great with this skirt! Maybe I'll hop on my electric bike and go buy some more.

Wrong: It seems dangerous or inconvenient to bike there.
Right: Ding ding! Coming through!

Wrong: This stuff won't fit on my bike.
Right: I will fit these (large boxes, fresh vegetables, recyclables, small children) on my bike or die trying.

Wrong: It's raining; I better walk instead.
Right: Where's my umbrella and/or full-arm rain poncho?

Wrong: I should not stare at random things or answer text messages while biking.
Right: Look! A foreigner!



3. What to do
OK. You have your bike, your gear, and the mindset of a local. Here are a few rules of the road:

1. Qufu has wide bike lanes on both sides of the main roads. Do not be fooled into thinking that these are one-way thoroughfares or that they are only for bikes. Today I biked about a mile in the bike lane of Qufu's main road and counted 28 bikes, 3 rickshaws, 5 pedestrians, and one taxi going the "wrong" direction.

2. Try not to hit or be hit.

3. Pay attention to your surroundings. For example, the constant honking of cars is not only a delightful China soundtrack, but also a helpful warning that you will definitely be run over if you don't get out of the way. Also, as previously mentioned, any vehicle could be going any direction on any part of the road at any given time.


4. Your bike is not just for transportation. It is also a convenient attachment for your food service or rickshaw business!




In the U.S., street biking is mostly for the serious biker. But in Qufu, you'll share the road with everyone from middle schoolers getting out of school to senior citizens crawling along on bikes older than they are. And as you swerve your knock-off "Giont" brand bike to miss the mangy puppy that just trotted into your path you can ask yourself, "Is this normal?" Yes, yes it is.

Childrenswear in China

This picture was taken a couple days ago in the East Market. I was walking down the street, sweating in my long underwear and coat, but the children were layered in so many clothes they could barely move. Is this normal? Yes.

In today's post, we will discuss three characteristics of childrenswear in China.

1. Layers
Question: How do you know if your child is wearing enough clothes?
Answer: Don't be silly -- your child is never wearing enough clothes. The warmer, the better. Bring on the marshmallow babies!


2. Split Pants
Chinese-style potty training involves a convenient slit in the back of every layer of clothes. Small babies sit on their granny's laps and pee in little arcs down to the street while granny spreads their legs. Toddlers squat whenever the need arises. True, this custom means lots of bare butts and pee on the street, but think how nice it would be not to worry about diapers.

(Photo credit: Bryan Lentz)

3. Shaved Heads
Most babies around here have their heads shaved until they are preschool age. I've heard various reasons, including the fact that it's easier and cleaner. If you are wondering whether this results in difficulty distinguishing boy babies from girl babies, see #2 above.


I don't care how many clothes they have on or how little hair they have -- I think little Chinese kiddos are adorable. Don't you?

Post Edit: More cute kids in the East Market this week. Thanks to my teammate Mallary for the photo!

Circle, Happy, and Moon 2

Imagine you are teaching your first English class in China, and someone has helpfully made you a list of all the students with their English names. You scan the list: "Vera, Vivian, Happy, Circle, Roony, Sunny, Snow White, Cinderella, Emily, Sarah, Echo, Adaline Undumbara."

"Is this normal?" you ask yourself. Yes. And then you find out Sunny is a boy.

Some Chinese students pick pretty normal English names, but there are many more who are drawn to old-fashioned names (Edna, Eunice, Beryl) or names that are -- how shall we say this? -- not names.

Beta
Roice
Clover
Moon 2 (a boy who had a brother with the English name Moon)
Black Sister
Shmily (short for "see how much I love you")
Remmer's Tears
Show
Seven
Arble (Seven and Arble are both in my Christmas decorating post below)

The English name phenomenon is a never-ending source of amusement among ex-pat teachers. Everyone has their stories of the nutty names they've encountered. I usually try to gently advise a name change, but if the name isn't too outrageous, sometimes I allow it. So I still teach Clover, Roony, Cinty, and Lisara, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it.

*Note: All names in this post are students I have known or my teammates have taught.

Squatty Potties

What does a normal Chinese bathroom experience entail?

• Sitting? No.
• Squatting? Yes.
• Closing the door? Sometimes. (In some public restrooms there are no stalls, just dividers. Even if there are stalls, not everyone closes them.)
• Bringing your own TP? Yes.
• Flushing your own TP? No. Toss it in the overflowing wastebasket.
• Bringing your own soap? Yes.
• Watching where you step? Yes.
  
• Enjoying sparkling clean surfaces and fragrant aromas? No.

I think bathrooms are one area in which most foreigners don't succumb to the standard of "normal" here. We like our bathrooms clean and well-stocked, and we want to be able to sit for a minute or two in privacy, doggone it! Many foreigners have a few "sweet spots" in hotels or Western restaurants around town where they can pop in for a visit to a clean, Western-style toilet. (Qufu, of course, is not over-burdened with fancy hotels or Western restaurants.) My personal tactic is just to wait until I get home.

Let me introduce you to the restroom just down the hall from my office in the English department:

Here we have our standard squatty and waste basket accompaniment. Be glad I didn't take a shot of the clogged one in the next stall. Ew.

And finally, the sink. Don't be fooled by the soap dish -- the foreign teachers put that there. You can also see the tub for the mop. There's always someone mopping, but I'm not sure it accomplishes much.

Actually, "mopping" could be a post all on its own. China is big on mopping. And that concludes the first edition of Is this normal? (Yes). Stay tuned for more culture tidbits.

Is this normal? (Yes)

Dun da dah! That was the trumpet announcing the start of a new series on the blog. I was thinking the other day about all the small aspects of Chinese culture that seemed strange at first, but are so common they soon ceased to catch my attention. And since they are no longer catching my attention, I've never blogged about them.

It's time to remedy this situation. In this series of posts, I will introduce you to my new "normal" -- a world filled with squat toilets, hot water, and marshmallow babies. Enjoy!