Turkey Isn't Too Popular in China

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Really. I've eaten delicious Peking duck, excessive amounts of beef and pork, plenty of seafood, and every once a while even chicken. But I've hardly caught the faintest whiff of turkey since landing here.

If it wasn't for the Desautels, an American family I've been staying with for the past 5 days, I might have had to forgo turkey even on beloved Turkey Day. But you can all exhale. Chris was well fed this last Thursday, having been served a meal complete with gravy, imported cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, turkey and one delicious apple pie. We even said a nice meal prayer.

I guess the Chinese don’t know what they are missing.

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When I last posted I was staying with Vince and Kitty, and they definitely deserve more than a word here, as they supported me for several weeks.

They're married, in their thirties, and don't have children. I suppose that on some level that made me a kind of surrogate son to them. I came into contact with them via an online forum that organizes an exchange between Chinese people who wish to improve their English and English speaking travelers who want accommodation. After hosteling for several days here in Shanghai, I met them in person, let them treat me to dinner, and moved into their guest bedroom within the week.

In my eyes, they fit every characteristic one might expect of a typical urban Chinese couple. They are both accountants. They live in a modest apartment, with your usual amenities. Nothing too lavish. They lead quiet lives and enjoy propping themselves in front of the tube after a day at work, or even playing computer games (in the case of Kitty). Neither academia nor religion play much of a role at all in their daily lives. They dutifully obey Confucian values of self-effacement, filial piety, and pronounced cordiality and hospitality. And they want to improve their English, mostly on account of their jobs.

It was a pleasure getting to know and live with this homely couple. Vincent has a great sense of humor, and is sharp, if not intellectually inclined. He taught me how to play Chinese chess and was more than a match for me in International Chess. Kitty was a bit more shy, and her English was not quite as fluent, but we certainly got along OK. All either of the two asked of me was for daily English conversation, that they may learn to express themselves more easily and intelligently at the workplace. I was more than happy to help, and even managed to pry political, religious and societal commentary out of them as well. They showed me the proper way to light incense. I helped Vincent with his skills on the badminton court. They showered me with a range of home cooked Chinese meals. I told them of life in America and shared treasures from home.

Needless to say, I was a little disheartened when they informed me that Vincent's parents would be visiting for some weeks in the near future, and would undoubtedly need the room. I insisted they shouldn’t worry about kicking me out, and asked that they only inform me of how long their parents would be staying. I bought them high quality tea (you can't go wrong with tea gifts in China) as a token of my thanks, and bade them a hopefully temporary goodbye.

And said hello to Tom, Jake and Jim Desautel, from Detroit, Michigan.

…

Walk a good enough distance south from the Jinqiao subway station, line 6 and you may just lose track of which country you are in, let alone where you are in Shanghai. That's because you'll be walking through a culture that has been imported and engineered to suit the interests and expectations of a certain international Business class. Here you can find a reputable burger and shake, a California Pizza Kitchen, very fine dining, Walmart-style shopping, and streets of, let's say, a slightly different character than the rest of China. It's, well, it's nice. Chinese employees speak descent English and you see a good amount of white pedestrians.

Here live the Desautels, who I had had brief correspondence with back in America, a friend of a friend sort of deal. I had never met or spoken to them directly until contacting them here in Shanghai. They, coincidentally, live only about ten minutes from where Vince and Kitty live.

I rang them up last Saturday and spent the day getting to know the father of the family, Tom Desautel. He showed me around town and took me sightseeing and shopping, bought me lunch. An extensional and gracious man, there is no doubt. As I enumerated on past, present and future prospects for my trip, he understood I would in no time be homeless. What I dared not encourage a hope for came true: he offered to put me up for at least a week, perhaps more.

I should probably mention that it was completely within his power to make this decision. Put another way: it's not like I'd be put a strain on their food budget to stay with them for a few days. Put even another way: he and his family are rich.

Tom works as GM engineering executive in the company's branch here in China. His veteran experience was hired to guide Chinese college graduates too green to navigate the practical, realistic side of the car manufacturing biz. He is valuable enough to GM that the company goes out of its way to make sure he and his family are comfortable. Quite comfortable.

So I backpacked for ten minutes to their vacant guest room located in paradise Americana.

It's kind of like living in a 5 star hotel. I came home from teaching on Monday to find my clothes washed, my bed made, and the jeans <em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I already stuffed inside my drawer folded neatly. I can walk to the window and look out over Shanghai from a two story penthouse in a wealthy apartment complex. If we go somewhere, we call the personal driver. A cook comes to make dinner. A maid comes to wash dishes.

In the bathroom, and this is my favorite, there lies an automatic soap dispenser.

Tom's wife is currently out of the country, but I've gotten to know their two sons. Jake is 12 years old, and manages to keep up with his ice hockey and American football practices here in Shanghai. Jim is 16. We talk about high school, which from what he has told me, is not terribly different from what it was back home (especially true considering his school is based in the American system). They have more video games and media entertainment than they know what to do with.

My being in China for the past month and a half coupled with the fact that my family isn't exemplary of your typical American household to begin with, means that I've endured some "reverse culture shock." So I'm going to devote some space to an analysis of what I've observed in Shanghai's little Western oasis:

If what I've seen is typical American culture (true, of American culture of a certain socioeconomic status), then I am honestly willing to declare the culture of my homeland much stranger than most anything I have found in China.

Your basic Christian values form a decently solid moral foundation for this family. We say grace at the dinner table. The kids are spoiled but not rude. Jim is a quiet fellow; I have not yet deduced if it is due to introspection or sheer boredom. There is no serious familial discord.

Thanksgiving , we went to two different parties; one featured a group of Tom's friends that skewed conservative, another featuring friends who will drink till the wee hours of the morn. Both are just as much if not more well-to-do than Tom. It was in the former group I got treated to the marvelous food and drink I mentioned at the beginning.

Where I am used to conversation centering on politics or philosophy or social phenomena, the vast majority of conversation here compared and contrasted means of pleasure seeking. I listened to expats talk about the best vacation ventures; what is likable and dislikable about maids and drivers; how best to extract the niceties of America in this Eastern setting. A common discussion topic is Chinese people, the "Chinese" way of doing things, how "that is China for you." Some of this commentary is admiring; most is derogatory. It was not entirely dissimilar to the phenomena I witnessed among French college students at the beginning of my trip.

Tom's other group of friends, party animals, struck me as a somewhat sad slice of the human condition. People with more wealth and material than is good for their health. We arrived on a scene of 40-55 year old adults saturated in alcohol. They were bent on staying up till 3:00 in the morning to watch a football game live, which we did.

I think it was especially surprising to me because in many ways the past 7 weeks have been the story of my being driven to self-discipline. And yet here was an example of adults with an astonishing lack of it. Deep undercurrents of marital conflict periodically rippled to the surface among most of the couples. When I told them of my trip, most could understand it only as a reflection of what they would do with a "gap year," that is, a year of debauchery and 'time off.' They were loud, self-absorbed and capable of being quite mean.

I really felt like I needed a shower when I got home.

Tom was not immune to their merriments but clearly descends from a higher place, so to speak. Among them, he probably has the greatest tolerance and taste.

I just, for example, finished a lengthy conversation with him about his admiration for engineering. It assuaged my worries of his being another just another caught-up plutocrat. He expounded the details of the car manufacturing business. How a new Buick model is created, from the inception of its design, to the science of production line logistics, to its rolling out the factory. It wasn't fine art, but nonetheless--it can be a real treat to hear a man talk about a craft he genuinely finds fascinating.

But that's enough about the Desautels and company. I honestly believe Tom is a good guy and I'm astounded than anything at being given the opportunity to stay here.

…

Now, I think a brief recap of my teaching ventures is due.

Sticking out of the backpack I take to work is, well, a stick. It's one of the signatures of Teacher C. Actually, it's not really a stick; it's a wooden device that looks deceptively like a stick I picked up for five yuan. Its intended use is to help you put your shoe on. But to my students it's my waking stick. I smash it on tables and it keeps their minds refreshed and ready for learning. If they ask me about it, I tell them that if students are bad they will face its wrath.

The first day I brought it home to Vincent's and he asked me about it.

"Do you use that on your students?"

"Well, I threaten to."

"You know, in older China, teachers would really hit kids with a stick like that."

"Hahaha"

"No, really, I'm serious."

"Heh"

When other teachers ask about it I tell them it is my "jiao bian," or teaching stick. Then I act like I'm pointing at the chalkboard. They laugh.

…

I'm a great teacher in some classes, adored and adorned by students. In a few, I'm still a complete fool.

Jing'an Primary School is an example of where things are going well. Here is a highlight of late:

One day I was eating lunch in the teacher's lounge. Much to my surprise, Jing'an cafeteria food is usually the best food I eat all day. This is legitimate traditional Chinese cuisine they serve us. Tasty, healthy, different everyday. I'm always looking forward to it.

Anyways, a Chinese teacher approaches the table I am sitting at. A part of me is afraid I'm about to get chewed out, but my record with this school has been altogether positive, so I keep my spirits high.

Out of the blue, she, in broken English, invites me to some kind of fashion show taking place at the school. Moreover, I am to participate in it. The students are so happy I am be coming.

HUH?

I didn’t quite realize what exactly was going on until I showed up at the event. And what an event it was! Students are lined up to greet incoming visitors. Teachers, parents and photographers are dashing here and there. It turns out this is a "Celebration of Cultures" day I've been asked to be a part of. European cultures, specifically. Students put on a show displaying cultural elements of 5 different countries: France, Denmark, Spain, Britain and Italy.

How cute it was! I strongly urge you to check out the pictures/videos on Flickr.com.

I did in fact participate. Italy's feature presentation was a fashion show in which little first graders dressed in fancy Italian garb would strut out onto the catwalk. I got to escort a little girl named Yoyo dressed in pink with sunglasses. I struck a pose. I got to say in Chinese, in front of at least a few hundred students, teachers and parents, "Huan ying lai yi da li" (welcome to Italy). One of my second grade classes began chanting "Teacher C! Teacher C!"

It was a treat.

And the Beatles performance for Britain was priceless.

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I think that's good, for now. It's late and I haven't slept much since eating my own weight in Thanksgiving food.

Take care, all of you; I miss you dearly.

Chris Stasse--

The Desautel's 12th floor apartment,

Pudong District, Shanghai

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Comments

[Deb Stasse]

A window opens
Hey Chris, Aunt Debbie here saying I look forward to each blog! Educational, experential, exquisite! A window on a world I have not seen, but now, in another way, have. Thank you for the gift of your time and effort. Love ya!