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Vending Forbidden
Spray-painted on the wall of an alley that is bustling with fruit, vegetable, and poultry vendors is this government warning: "Vending Forbidden." They are going to build a shopping mall soon. Traveling abroad is definitely one way to challenge your perception of your own values and morality. Some days I find myself struggling with the question of whether I should release some values of mine in order to view a particular problem in a more Chinese light, or else stick by my Western modes of thought lest I lose my direction and credibility entirely.
An example: I recently asked a teacher who is a big proponent of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) why there are so few double-blind clinical trials in testing the efficacy of TCM. She said it's because TCM is based so deeply on the many variables that are inherent to an individual, like in what ways they are governed by the elements of Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water, that double-blind studies aren't done. I wanted to go on to argue that many medical trials control for a very large number of variables, but there was almost certainly no point: double-blind trials are just not reconcilable with TCM, and none of the explanations as to
why will satisfy either mode of thinking. I'll just go on thinking that proponents are making excuses to get out of proving the method
Shopping Mall
It says "A more dazzling, bustling shopping center!" This is directly across the alley from the vending warning. scientifically, and they'll probably go on thinking I am loony for insisting on bringing science into it. That being said: I still don't believe in the efficacy of Chinese medicine.
The more interesting stories are probably the ones in which I compromise my Western values, maybe because I come out looking like less of an Imperialist jerk. Or maybe because I come out looking like a jerk by Western standards? Let's find out . . .
Last week, a foreign friend who lives in Shangri-La asked me if I could help a Chinese friend of his who needed a foreign participant in some sort of activity, and that I would be compensated handsomely (hour for hour, the same amount native speakers of English make to give private, one-on-one English lessons!). He didn't know the details, but gave me the guy's name and number (I wish I could give the Chinese guy's name, because it is an amazing name, but I want to protect his privacy. It's the equivalent of a family with the last name "Anyon" naming their son "Grand C."). I called the guy, and he was vague when I asked for details on what this activity
New City
It's funny how the English writing is placed more prominently than the Chinese. If it's foreign, it must be an asset to China's development! was, just saying there was a meeting in which they wanted a foreign participant's point of view. Okay, I thought, no time like the present, in China, for adventure.
He picked me up the next day at 7:30 a.m., and he introduced me to a few colleagues, one of whom was to brief me on the subject matter before we got to our destination. I was shown a confusing Chinese PowerPoint about urban design and architectural planning and for my own part looked completely lost throughout. Eventually good old Grand C. in the driver's seat said "Don't worry about confusing her with that stuff. Just explain what she needs to know."
My PowerPoint buddy looked kind of thoughtful, and then he was like "Well, there's really only two things you need to know for this meeting: you're a professional urban designer, and you work for us at S--- N--- Company." Up front, Grand C. added another requirement: "Also, you do not need to speak Chinese . . . no wait, you
need to
not speak Chinese."
I had expected my presence to be mostly useless--this "point of view" thing they were talking about sounded a lot like
Thoroughly Acne
The Chinese: "Acne specialists--thoroughly dispel acne, won't leave scars"
English: "Thoroughly Acne"
They missed something in the translation. cultural tokenism. But then I got it, that I was not a cultural token, but a
complexion token. It turns out, my job was to sit next to the presenter of this design proposal, nod approvingly at PowerPoint slides that I supposedly had a hand in making, and feign ignorance of the language if asked any questions about urban design directly.
See, in China there is the thought particular to some fields--urban design being one of them--that foreigners are an asset. If a foreigner is working for a Chinese company, then the company must be
really good, it must be internationally known. Merely having a white face (and that's a key point I'll get to in a moment) sitting on the board makes a company look good, is the thinking.
We drove about an hour to a small city outside Kunming where the team was making their pitch to the planning committee. The trip took us through a long, narrow tunnel in the mountains that was downright
hazy with what I'm sure was truck exhaust. The shipping trucks here spew out smoke so dense it might be black ectoplasm. We rolled up our windows. Outside the tunnel the
Squirrel Fish
This Chinese delicacy is so named, I think, because the inside-out fried fish ends up sort of resembling a squirrel's tail. Also affectionately known by foreigners as "exploded fish." Fun fact: Chinese for squirrel is literally "pine rat." scenery was gorgeous--I didn't have my camera, but there were a lot of those steep, craggy foothills characteristic of Chinese topography, and donkey-pulled carts, and rice paddies and stuff. We got to the little suburb where we were to have our meeting, and I was asked to stop communicating in Chinese. The little meeting hall was complete with "No Smoking" sign and accompanying ashtrays. I sat through three hours of presentation and Q&A and tried not to fall asleep, instead concentrating on how I might look if I were an expert on urban design who didn't understand the language being spoken; that's the opposite of the truth, so I tried to look the opposite of how I felt like looking.
After the meeting we had an interesting lunch out with the city's planning committee. I think my guys were also trying to give the illusion that they can act as interpreters for me. Their English is limited. So it was a good thing we had already discussed a lot of things on the drive over like what city I was from and all, so that they could respond to the small talk questions on my behalf without having to
Arm Wrestling
Not an uncommon sight in Chinese bars, but they seem to operate on slightly different rules. Not pictured: all the cash that was on the line. pretend to interpret them into English for me. I would have to say the highlight of the lunch was not having to pretend to be modest when the lady clerks said I was pretty. Because I couldn't understand!
At the end of it all, I came home with as much cash as if I'd taught English for five hours straight. I can't say it was a horrible experience.
If I had shown up that morning and turned out to be anything but white, I don't think they would have wanted me. If I was Chinese-American, even if I was completely born and raised in the U.S., I wouldn't have delivered the punch they were looking for. They weren't looking for a foreigner's point of view--they were looking for someone obviously foreign to be a
point in the field of
view of the audience. So yeah, in the West we see that as racist. I was hired for this job based entirely on race. But I participated! Sometimes the ways I see people act about race here, they're just not okay with me, and I say so. But this was something that definitely went against my Western morals concerning race, and I went along with it.
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