中国,别忘记我! (China, don't forget me!)

我爱你中国!
Here's the thing: in America I fear the fetishization of my Chinese culture and in China I shied away from any fixations of my American upbringing.

Yes, I recognize the perverse irony of the reversed situations. For the most part, my worries were unfounded; everyone was incredibly welcoming and open and made me feel as though I were returning to a home(land) instead of visiting as a tourist. I did feel the need to reassure people that I wasn't a complete cultural sellout, which meant actively trying to improve my spoken and written Chinese, not complaining about living discomforts, following social etiquette, and eating everything offered to me. The last thing I wanted was to appear elitist and ungrateful. The only bumps were in the first two weeks, when everyone treated me as if I'd break at the slightest inconvenience or culture clash. Then, of course, there were those moments when people tried to stereotype my own preferences as those of America as a whole. . . I can't even remember how many times I had to tell people that just because I don't drink carbonated beverages doesn't mean Americans don't drink Pepsi and Coke. Or that just because I refuse to go out the door without a shower first every day doesn't mean Americans are all obsessed with hygiene (though they are, in comparison to the Chinese, anyway). Stereotyping, what easy traps you lay. I have enough trouble representing myself, much less representing an entire nation of people.

When I visited China in the past, I never stayed longer than a month, and a month was usually the most I could stand; by the end of the 4 weeks I couldn't wait to return to America. Maybe it's only because I lived by myself this year and had more executive control over my life, but I desperately didn't want to leave after 8 weeks. Even now, I miss the early morning jian bing runs, the dodging of 6 lane traffic, and the endless hunts for street food. I miss the convenience of stores at my fingertips and the knowledge that everything can be fixed, that there's a service for every trade. When I would attempt to navigate Xi'an by public transport or when I'd try to learn new words, I always thought of it as re-learning my city, re-learning my language. I miss that feeling. Would it still be the same had I been born in the United States? Maybe. I don't know.

I'd love to return to China in the future and stay longer, maybe one or two years. China's going to change exponentially in the near future, and I really want to be part of it. But I guess only time can tell what will actually happen. School starts again next week, and my summer is officially over. This post marks my 25th entry on Mobile Disco and most likely my last, until further notice. I'm not exactly new to blogging or traveling - I travelblogged my way through my study abroad semester in Germany last Fall, but I'm glad that I kept with the China blogging even after I returned to the United States; I feel satisfied with my coverage of topics and events. I can't really think of any more posts that would make my China experience even more comprehensive.

To people who actually took the time to read what I wrote, thanks for staying with me. :) I'm pretty sure that everyone who's read Mobile Disco is already familiar with my many and varied internet handles, but for anyone who doesn't and is curious about my personal blog or if you have any comments or concerns, you can shoot me an e-mail at binglove at gmail.com.

Interruption in your regular visual viewing

The amount of coverage (print and media alike) and focus on China this summer has been staggering; there hasn't yet been a day since I've been back that I haven't read an opinion piece or journalism article or watched a documentary or heard a political soundbite on China's domestic and international movements and ambitions. Don't worry, I don't plan on talking politics. What I want to discuss is the type of comments often found in response to the media coverage, particularly comments regular viewers and readers make to online articles. The overwhelming Western belief is that the bulk of the Chinese population -- the blue-collar laborers, the union workers, the farmers -- are quietly suppressed by the government, that they're unhappy with their country, and are waiting to be rescued from oppression. What shocked me even further is that any dissenting voices attempting to defend China and the living conditions of its people were immediately ripped apart and accused of perjury. In fact, the popular belief seems so sound that many convince themselves that any defending voices must be undercover Chinese government officials trolling Western media outlets to spread more lies about the motherland. They cite that since many websites are banned in China, the only way a Chinese person can read condemning articles is through special government treatment, never mind the millions of Chinese people abroad in the rest of the world. Of course no normal Chinese person would defend China of his or her own free will.

What? Again, what? I'll be the first person to admit China's flaws and shortcomings (of which there are many, on immense scale) but I feel unless people wish to prevent a China vs "rest of the world" mentality (which will only lead to trouble), Western nations especially need to stop underestimating China's cultural and historic legacy. It's true, the Chinese government excels at propaganda, at whipping up the population into a frenzy, of promoting a patriotism that puts America to shame. And yet, it's important to remember that China contains over a billion people, scattered over thousands of miles, and technology such as television and the internet is still a luxury concept to millions. Bureaucracy is unavoidable, and there are a lot of interceptions and red-tape between the decisions made by the central government in Beijing and the people in the country. But this disconnect doesn't damper the pride Chinese people have in their country or (especially) in their ethnicity. No matter what China's government is like, China is still a land full of Chinese, and that's not going to change.

I met with hospital directors and university presidents and I also went home to my grandparents, into the heart of Shaanxi where you can find a spot that overlooks miles and miles of fruit orchards and not much else. If anything, I've found that farmers in the country are even quicker to defend China than the leaders in the city; people are proud of where they've come from, how far they've come, and how far China can and will go. Living conditions are still astronomically unbalanced and the poverty can be frightening. But give the Chinese people some credit; they love their country not because the government forces them but because they recognize the thousands of years of China's history and accomplishments, that despite class disputes they still share the same culture and race. The common ethnicity is a double-edged sword: too much compassion for one's country & race may encourage the overlooking of grievances or violations made by the government, and I'm sure that's a balance that China will continue to struggle to find for years to come.

Way to a country's heart is through its food

In my 2-week absence, I: watched a lot of Olympics; despaired over the commentary, video montages, & media coverage; fell in love with Ryan Lochte. He doesn't quite fill the void in my heart left from Pieter van den Hoogenband, but he'll do. In my spare time, I also hung out with friends, accumulated even more "stuff" to take back to Boston, attended six (6) sleepovers, and marathoned 8 episodes of China's live action Prince of Tennis drama. Yeah, my newfound "azn-ness" acquired from China still hasn't faded.

I've been waiting all summer to write up my obligatory food post, and I'd originally saved it for the Opening Ceremony, which has now turned into. . . the Closing Ceremony. . . I did say timeliness isn't my best trait. :T

On average, I ate out about 5 times a week; there's just so much variety for food in China, and especially in Xi'an, that it seemed a waste not to take advantage. Or so I told myself. Most of the time either teachers or family friends and classmates invited me out to lunch and dinner. I've already written about the complex etiquette of formal dining, and by the end of my 2 months, I was pretty burnt out from the higher dining experience. Even casual eating among friends and family can turn into a complicated affair. Chinese banquet restaurants always follow a strict course order: cold meat appetizers, cold vegetable dishes, hot vegetable & meat plates, hot meat cuts, soup, and then usually a large cauldron of hand-rolled noodles to round off the meal. Perhaps in the more Southern parts of China restaurants will also serve rice in the beginning of the meal to eat with your vegetables & meat, but Xi'an natives usually only order rice for guests or tourists. We're loyal to our wheat & flour; the only rice we eat is stewed in congee. (In my opinion, no other city can top Xi'an's specialty noodles and dumplings.) The problem with the course order, however, is that you invariably fill up on vegetables and meat, which to my American carb-obsessed body means. . . I simply eat vegetables and meat until I can't force them down anymore but I still don't feel "full". No one's hungry by the time the noodles make an appearance as the last dish; often times, the noodles are only ordered as a customary show of, "Look! Everyone is so full and content that we even have a giant pot of food leftover!" The Chinese middle class enjoys extravagance.

My favorite way of soaking up Chinese culinary culture is sampling all the different delicacies a city offers via street carts and stalls. Unfortunately, most of the time I had to sneak around to eat some of my favorite foods because the adults tend to frown upon street eating (sanitation safety is often an issue) and instead took me out for food like. . . raw beef dipped in wasabi and roast duck. But fear not, for I grew up with protective Asian parents and know how to budget double city lifestyles. Pictorial proof!

Typical Chinese banquet spread (mid-meal, post-appetizer)


Typical dinner at home for a family of 4 +1


Fish dumplings with portobello mushrooms


Morning jian bian stuffed with chives and rice noodles


Eggplant potsticker


Classic Xi'an noodles with vegetables


Ma po tofu!!! One of my favorite Chinese dishes


Another jian bing with peanut sauce, spices, and pickled vegetables


a Chinese style döner


Dry fish & shrimp hot pot with lots and lots and lotsss of spices


Hand-cut long noodles, served dry with vegetables


Genuine dimsum with rice congee


Relax, these were vegetarian but they definitely tasted strange
There are still a ton of Xi'an specialty foods that I forgot to visually record, such as lian pi, rou jia mo, and yang rou pao. Not to mention the insane amount and variety of fruit I consumed every day. I ate basically everything I came across in China; I definitely wasn't a picky eater. I told everyone that I'll eat anything, just maybe not a lot of it. Mostly, I didn't want people to think of me as a snobby Chinese-turned-American who could only eat fried rice and stir fry. I guess I'm still culturally sensitive to perceptions and expectations.

Surprisingly, I didn't crave a lot of American foods during my stay, but I did lust after (1) good chocolate, especially dark, and (2) cupcakes & cake in general. Diary products, with the exception of yogurt, are a bust in China, because almost everyone drinks powdered milk and thus use powdered milk in baking instead of thick & creamy whole milk. I vainly tried bakery after bakery, to no avail. I even treated Xiao Ke out to (way overpriced) Häagen-Dazs one afternoon in desperation for quality dairy, only to find the ice-cream inferior to its German/American counterparts. Oh well, I ate enough in China; according to the tailors and seamstresses, I probably should've gone without dessert for the summer, anyway.

What I'll miss the most from China: suan nai!!! Literally translated as "sour milk", culturally translated as "yogurt", only. . . drinkable. Gosh, this stuff is delicious; I'd drink two cartons every morning for breakfast. American GoGurt and yogurt drinks just aren't the same.

Clothes: pieces of fabric and so, so much more

Olympics start today! YAYYY. I was going to celebrate by writing up the food-post that I've been accruing all summer long, but after some consideration I decided my tailoring & clothes post has more backlog leverage.

Labor in China is ridiculously cheap, and even though the falling of the U.S. dollar (so brutal) and improved living conditions in China have hiked up fees in recent times, one of my most anticipated experiments this summer was trying out tailor-made clothes. Depending on what quality fabric you select, what style you want, and where you get it made, the price might end up only slightly less than a ready-made item in a department store, but (1) you know you're definitely not paying for the "brand" name (2) the clothing is fitted custom for your body and (3) you get executive power over styling details.

I'd been dreaming about this dress for months and managed to have it made for about 10 USD (including fabric costs). High-quality silk, cotton, jersey, and woolblends are also much easier to come by over there than in the U.S. - a few years ago, my mother fitted all of our house's curtains in China and shipped them over using huge boxes. I know there's a lot of expressed concern over the quality of China-made items, and though my experience has been mixed, one of the truly awesome things about China is the amount of custom-made detailing available: it's just as easy to commission a painting rather than buying one from a store; street carts and stores sell all kinds of personalized souvenirs; fabric and accessory shops almost always include personal tailors and seamstresses. The price will be steeper than mass-production, obviously, but definitely worth the cost.




For me, the best part of tailor-made clothes is choosing the fabric - the possibilities are endless! It's best to browse with someone who's familiar with different fabrics, of course, but most shop owners are happy to answer basic questions about quality and how many meters you'd need for a shirt or skirt or dress. The most important part of dealing with tailors is staying firm - Chinese people are rather opinionated and much more blunt than the West. When I drew out the above dress and shirt for the first seamstress I went to, she flat-out told me she couldn't do it. Hey, no problem. I just crossed the street to another tailor shop. (Thanks, 1.3 billion population!) I don't even know how many times I heard that my desired "style" will look ugly or argued over measurements and lengths. Hey, I'm the one who's going to wear it, not them. And everyone seems to assume that if you're a young girl, you will gain weight within the next year and therefore should make all of your clothes "loose-fitting". Um, what? No. If say I have a small upper-body frame, I mean it. Half the reason why I like tailored clothes is because the clothes in the stores are always too big on top. And! Most tailors will also try to make everything knee-length. Resist. If you want a shorter hem, push for it. I adamently told her I wanted my dress short(er) and I still came back to see. . . knee-length. Join the 21st century, China, please.


Making this dress was a nightmare. I argued with the seamstress for half an hour, first with her disagreeing with my fabric choice & color and then with her insisting that, "This style dress will look horrible on you! It has no shape!" Yes, I know, I want a trapeze shift dress in light gray. She finally relented after I refused to back down; the dress still finished slightly loose around my sides and. . . yes, knee-length, but otherwise I'm pleased with the shape. It's deadly showing doubt in China; a sales person will swoop in on your insecurity before you can even blink. Also: people in the clothing industry love commenting on other people's bodies and weights. Don't take it personally; I'm not considered skinny in China, either.

As for popular fashion right now. . . the amount of people and the cheap labor also means that fashion trends switch every few months. The clothes I saw in stores this summer were already completely different than the styles I saw last summer in Xi'an. A safe way of describing youth style is that mainstream boys & girls will dress in whatever's popular in Korea right now, and the more hip, stylish youth dress in whatever's popular in Japan. Hilarious, but true. I saw a lot of empire waistlines, babydoll dresses, bubble skirts, ruffles, vests, and pale colors thanks to Korea, and then I saw fake eyebrows, monstrous nails, striped thigh-high socks, acid-wash skinny jeans, and platforms thanks to Japan. Most of the clothes in small stores and street stalls are low quality, where you're mostly buying the style alone and not the fabric (think Forever 21), but you can buy shirts for under 30 RMB (~5 USD) and dresses for under 50 RMB (~7 USD). The most curious discovery this summer dealt with the higher quality and Chinese brand name clothing found in upscale malls or small boutiques. Somehow "luxury" clothing in China has become even more expensive than regular department clothes in America, even though the quality is comparable and there's still no return policy for most stores in China. It's become the new status symbol for the rising middle class, buying brands at the higher the price, the better. Personally, if I'm going to dish out a couple hundred USD on a pair of designer jeans, I'd rather go with an established American or European brand than a Chinese brand that I haven't heard of, but I suppose the "status" of the "symbol" is different there than here. Some of the spending habits I observed from the teachers at the university even made me feel conservative, and I'm pretty weak in the face of clothes. /:)

You only realize the vastness of China when. . .

Can't believe I still have so much China backlog, bear with me for a bit here. :( Remember all those long weeks ago when I talked about flying to Ürümchi? Well, uh, I WENT. The trip was pretty spontaneous, and everyone told me how I ought to have waited until July when the grape orchards ripened and tourist attractions reached their peak, but my main reason for going was to see my aunt and ☆ Cousin ☆. My best friend C. teased me all last summer about my cousin complex, but the only family I have in the States is my parents and a brother 8 years my junior, so it's really exciting to have a relative my age who also understands me so well. It's bizarre, the Cousin and I only met once at age 12 for 10 days, but I feel like we really bonded in our vulnerable preteen state. Anyway, I'm yet unconvinced on the influences of genetics on personality and attitude, but the Cousin and I grew up in definitely very different cultures and environments and we have almost the exact same tastes and opinions, so. Maybe science is onto something. :) I miss him terribly, which my college friends can testify is a rare occurence for me; I easily miss places and eras and certain moments or atmospheres, but I rarely miss actual people. I can't help but feel as though so many of my social ineptitudes and struggles would be solved had I only a close relative my own age here in the U.S. :( Cousin remarked that even though I appear so American at first glance, he's surprised at how traditionally Chinese I appear at times; I guess my inexplicable faith in blood ties is one of them.

The XinJiang province (and the city of Ürümchi in particular) is interesting in that minorities make up a sizeable part of the population. And not just minority as in "Asian-but-not-Han-Chinese" but as in immigrants - largely from Pakistan and the Middle East. You know those obnoxious people in America who will stare at minorities or foreigners in public areas, as if they'd never seen someone of a different skin color before? I'm ashamed to admit that somehow China turns me into one of those people. Maybe it's because the majority of China is just so. . . homogeneously Chinese that I grow used to seeing Han Chinese faces and so the sight of a minority or foreigner automatically makes me stop and stare. That was me my entire 5 days in Ürümchi. I promise I'm much more politically correct in the States, okay. The Cousin told me that his university has probably a quarter minority population and even though most of the kids were born and grew up in China and can speak fluent Chinese, they always speak Turkish (??) among themselves. Also apparently the Chinese government promotes affirmative action; who knew. I wanted to see the Cousin's dormroom and tried sneaking up the stairs twice but was thwarted each time by the cleaning lady who immediately screeched, "NO GIRLS ALLOWED IN BOYS ROOM!!" Sabotage. :(


The Cousin skipped class to show me around campus / Ürümchi


He took me up to Red Mountain, the highest point in the city


Only China would put a nature reserve so close to the highway. . .


a Turkish dish that's become a XinJiaing regional specialty
Funny story: I don't like eating meat and fish in China because the Chinese don't believe in serving without bones (usually very small and prickly ones) because kids learn from a young age how to spit them out. Ummm, not me. I didn't even realize there were (small) bones inside the lamb pieces until Cousin paused in his eating, stared at my plate, and then asked, "Where are the bones you spit out?" I stared back blankly. "Oh, are we supposed to spit them out?" I replied weakly. "HAVE YOU BEEN SWALLOWING THEM?" his jaw dropped. "You're like a 5 year old, I can't even believe it."

So, ummm, yes. I prefer staying vegetarian in China. Also I possibly need to learn how to properly chew my food.

The only real touristing I did during my 5-day stay in Ürümchi / Wulumuqi was a day trip to Heavenly Pool, which was even more beautiful than Lake Namtso in Tibet and thankfully a lot less freezing. I wanted to climb up, but the tour guide advised against it due to time restraints, so we took a bus up and then rode the cable car down. We ended up having to climb up 1000 steps to see the temple, though, so that made the mountain experience at least a little bit more "authentic". The view was stunning.


Entrance at the midpoint of the mountain


Climbing up the steps to the temple


Cloudy skies and the mountain peaks


A sense of past peace now passed


Locals renting traditional wear for photo-ops


The lake gave an overwhelming sense of loneliness


The lake under clearer skies with the thousand-year old elm tree on the dock


Cable cars! Better than the amusement park equivalent


Perfect for street racing, yes? Yes.


Cousin and me riding the cable car down
The rest of my days in XinJiang was spent romping around Ürümchi with the Cousin. We saw Kung Fu Panda in dubbed Mandarin in a movie theater, navigated our way through construction sites at midnight, and sat around in restaurants and cafés for hours eating ice-cream and idly catching up on the past 8 years.


SUGAR COATED HAWTHORNES ON A STICK, gosh so delicious


Spicy lamb skewers, another regional specialty


XinJiang noodles with-- you guessed it, lamb and spicy peppers
Ürümchi was probably my favorite part of China this year; the week felt so relaxing and full of fun. It probably helps that the Cousin did all the planning and executive work and I could just enjoy myself without any of the stress. /:) The Cousin attentively asked if I was hungry or thirsty throughout the day, guided me when crossing the street, carried my bag for me (look, it was heavy. . . ), and occasionally even held up my umbrella (oh, boys in China). I told him hanging out with him was even better than having a boyfriend (perks but no stress) and he confessed that he treats me better than he treats his girlfriend. As C. would say, the cousin complex lives on. . . Hilariously, when I first stepped into his room, I noticed a framed picture of a girl by his desk, and I had a brief petty flash of, "WHO IS IT >:O!!" before I realized. . . oh wait, it's me. :")