When Life Gives You Lemons

Sometimes China depresses me. The country is riddled with natural assets – beautiful landscapes, breathtaking scenery, diverse flora and fauna, and so on. On top of all that, China often boasts about having the longest written historical record in history, stretching back three thousand years or more. But the beautiful scenery is scarce to be found. Everything is urban, modernized, new. Many of those same natural assets are being systematically destroyed to make way for new roads, highways, methods of transportation, and to prevent floods in other parts of the country. Take the Tiger Leaping Gorge, for example. If I remember correctly, this is one of the largest natural gorges in China, maybe in the whole world. It is a place I am visiting in about a week – and good timing, too, because in three years it will be under water. The Tiger Leaping Gorge will be part of a large lake that simplifies river transport from one end of the country to another. At least I’ll get to see it while it’s still around. And this very same country, with a semi-cohesive history spanning thousands of years – where are its relics? The China I see is brand new. It’s only been around for fifty years or so. In Europe, evidence of its age and history is everywhere. You can walk into a building and smell the age that has settled into its cracks and crevices. But here, all I see are modern high-rises and apartment buildings. So many of the structures that hint at China’s great and glorious history have been torn down and replaced with other things. What’s more, the government is a much more present force than what I am used to, even in its absence. When I was in high school, my government class talked about the constant struggle between security and privacy – the more privacy you have, the less secure you are, and vice versa. In China, it seems as though much of privacy has been done away with in favor of security – but I wonder who it is that benefits from it. The government is everywhere; reading my emails, blocking my access to the internet, watching me throughout the day. There are topics of conversation I don’t feel comfortable discussing with the locals. What if someone hears me? They might throw me in jail or deport me. The entire concept of free flow of information that my life has been structured around simply is not relevant here. The government owns the media. The government issues propaganda so that its citizens only know what the government wants them to know. The government delivers its version of Chinese history to its citizens. Truth is not the primary concern – it is the propagation and perpetuation of the government. Consider the recent riots in Lhasa. Everyone had some vague idea of what was going on, but no one really knew, since any mention of Tibet was conspicuously absent in local media. Newspapers, television programs, all reported on things that had nothing to do with Tibet. In fact, it’s still hard to know what went on or is continuing to go on. All foreign journalists were kicked out and tourists are no longer allowed in. It makes me sad – I recently heard my Chinese teacher talk about Tibet, and it was both troubling and depressing. She is an educated woman, but the only things that came out of her mouth were clearly what the government wanted her to believe. “Everyone in Tibet is really very lucky,” she said, “the average citizen in Lhasa is more wealthy than the average Han elsewhere in China.” That wasn’t where it ended. “The situation in Lhasa’s not so bad,” she continued, “really, Tibetans are very lucky people. The government has treated them so well. All of the provinces are required to have building provinces in Tibet, did you know that?” Tibet has the poorest economy of all of China’s provinces.

The Chinese Recycling Program and Buttless Baby Pants

A quick note on the Chinese Recycling Program, which in my opinion epitomizes the operation of the country. The country actually has no recycling program. But the government pays you for turning in recyclables so they can be used again, and this is how it works. Normal people throw out everything that you can recycle. These sorts of things end up in trash cans, naturally. People less well off root through trash cans, pull out plastic and glass, and turn them in for money. Truly, this is an excellent description of how China functions. Also, I've discovered Chinese people don't believe in diapers. Instead, pants for small children have a big section cut out of the back, so naked baby butts abound. I'll bet it's quite drafty! At least it provides an impetus for the parents to house-train their kids as quickly as possible.

Bits and Pieces, Odds and Ends

First, I thought I would list a few things I have a newfound appreciation for now that I'm in China.
1. Peanut butter and jelly. I can't believe I used to think it was boring. Here, it's heaven.
2. Apples with the peel intact. In China, you can't eat any fruit peels because of the pesticides they use. Which means that if you want an apple, you first have to peel off the skin. When I get back to America, I'm going to eat a lot of apples. With the skin intact.
3. Libraries. I love them. And book stores, too. Unfortunately, I can't actually read anything in any of the ones around here. I miss them so!
4. 1% milk. France had no fresh milk. China has plenty of fresh milk, but it's all whole milk, which means it's so thick and icky that I can't drink it. I am going to drink A LOT of milk when I get back home.

Also, I've had some requests for my mailing address in China. Here it is:

Rebekah Farrar
c/o Wentao Song
Foreign Affairs Office
Southwest University for Nationalities
Chengdu, Sichuan
610041 PR CHINA

Finally, I am including some random pictures.

1. My friend Kerry on Chunxi Lu. Chunxi Lu is a street in Chengdu that is known as Walking Street. Lots of shopping. She accompanied me there since I had never seen it.




2. Me in my cooking class! The dish on the left is friend noodles. The one on the right is Yangzhou fried rice. Yes, I cooked both of them, and yes, they were quite tasty.



3. Me and the statue of Mao in Tianfu Square, the center of Chengdu. Apparently (according to Kerry) his statue is in that position because he was always seen trying to hail taxis.


4. My pride and joy! The beautiful, gorgeous, WONDERFUL tea set I bought in Xi'an. There are two more cups and saucers not pictured here.

Longer, more interesting post to follow.

How to Make Cookies Without Any Ingredients Or: My Life in China

Mostly, life in China is pretty interesting. Well, insane would be an apt way of putting it. However, sometimes life gets you down, as it is prone to do, and all you want are some cookies. But here in China, the local conception of “cookie” is very different from the one you are used to. They think of cookies as sweet, spongy things, more like very small quantities of bread. And you want the kind you are used to. Which means you can’t go to the bakeries. As for the expensive imports aisle in Carrefour, they only have things like Chips Ahoy. No. You don’t want those kinds of cookies. You want the kind you make yourself. What a fabulous idea, you find yourself thinking. I’ll go pick up the ingredients I need and bake myself some cookies. But wait. After more than a moment’s reflection, you see a problem arise. One big, glaring flaw to your brilliant plan: you don’t have an oven. In fact, the only ovens you’ve ever seen in China are in the bakeries. And in fact, you haven’t even seen them, but bakeries sell bread and other baked goods, so you infer that they must be there. Well, it’s not the end of the world, you tell yourself. For even though you’re craving the hot, freshly baked kind of cookie, you would settle for any cookie you could make with your own two hands. So this just means your recipe choices are somewhat limited – that is, you can only make no-bake cookies. Fortunately, there are plenty of no-bake cookie recipes to be had. Sit down at your computer and google “no-bake cookies” and you’ll find untold numbers of recipes, just waiting for you to un-bake them. Now hold on just one more minute. You’ve really got a problem now. Because once you start looking at the recipes, you realize you have no ingredients. For one thing, most of them call for vanilla extract, and your entire time in China, you haven’t even seen anything that remotely resembles vanilla extract. And what about butter or margarine? You’ve seen that in the imports aisle, but well, it’s about $4 for a single stick of butter, which is a little out of your budget. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen any powdered sugar either. A little disheartened, you head down to Carrefour to see what you can scrounge up. You find a jar of peanut butter, nice and cheap since it’s the store brand. Hurrah! One success down, several more to go. Right next to the peanut butter, you realize, to your amazement, that there is something that might be distantly related to powdered sugar. The bright, shiny label proudly declares, “Glucose Powder.” That’ll just have to do, you tell yourself. Margarine is out of the question, though. Too expensive. Wandering through the store, you stumble across some cheap oats. Perfect, you think, I’ll just add this to the mix. So now you have peanut butter, fake powdered sugar, and oatmeal. Something’s missing, you tell yourself. Ah! All of a sudden, you realize no cookie recipe is complete without chocolate chips. Hold it, hold it! There are no chocolate chips in China. In fact, you’re not even sure they believe in chocolate. Well, it’s just going to require a little more work than you anticipated. You buy a solid bar of dark chocolate (the best kind), and resort to chopping it up yourself. Now you’re actually ready to begin making your cookies! So here’s what you do, step by step. 1. Most importantly, find some clean dishes. This is rather difficult, as some of your roommates tend to hoard them in their rooms for weeks at a time. Or leave them in the sink for days on end, hoping upon hope that a different roommate will do their dirty work for them. 2. Upon locating clean dishes, scoop out an appropriate size of peanut butter into your nice, clean bowl. Add some knock-off powdered sugar to your knock-off peanut butter and mix it in. Continue until you get something that’s less sticky than peanut butter by itself, but still holds together. 3. Chop up an entire bar of chocolate and dump it in. Oh no, there’s too much chocolate! But what were you supposed to do? Chocolate is gold! You can’t waste a single sliver. Okay, fine, add some more peanut butter. 4. Add some oats. Mix. You’ll probably end up readjusting the peanut butter levels again. 5. Roll your fake peanut butter cookies into a ball and then roll them in some fake powdered sugar (which, as you suspected, is not actually powdered sugar as you conceive of it, but it will have to suffice). Put them on your nice, clean plate. This last step is very useful, as it prevents your cookies from sticking together. 6. Place them in the refrigerator (after shoving all your roommates’ foodstuffs out of the way, of course). 7. Share them with your American friends. They’ll love you forever.

Travels: Round Two

Xi’an is a city that pulses with its own rhythm. It is a city I could live in; it lets you breathe; it doesn’t force itself upon you. It does not have the crowded nature or rushed, frenetic pace of London and New York. The city spreads out, sprawls just a little bit, just to let you know it can. The sidewalks are wide enough that you rarely bump into another pedestrian (a fine feat for a country with such as exorbitantly large population), and open enough that there is room for large, garish sculptures in front of business complexes. The city is clean, to boot; not pristine in any sense of the word, but the sidewalks are not so thickly caked with years of grit and grime that no amount of cleansing will ever truly leave them clean. There is none of the unsavory detritus found on the streets of Chengdu – trash goes in the trash can, and all manner of bodily secretions are dealt with appropriately, not left out for the public to gawk and gag at.

Xi’an is a manageable city. It is big enough that there will be no lack of whatever you’re looking for. If you’re craving some good ol’ traditional Western food, there is no shortage of restaurants waiting to serve you. If you prefer Korean food, no problem. If you’re dying to be the proud owner of the latest Gucci handbag or European fashion, Xi’an is the place to go. If you’re in the mood for a unique cultural experience, head on down to Xi’an’s Muslim quarter. Yet, in spite of the availability of anything you could possibly want, the city is small enough that it isn’t overwhelming. It is a walkable city; take the bus if that’s what floats your boat, but if you have some time you might as well use your own two feet.

Xi’an is a city that lives for the night. The setting of the sun is countered by the lights of the city at night. As the sun goes to sleep, the city is just waking up, embracing the night with open arms. An area not lit up is difficult to find, at best – the world is all bright colors, neons, and flashing lights. The city beautifies itself nightly with its stunning light displays.

Xi’an is a city with a long history, spanning 2,000 years or more. It is home to one of the most renowned historical sites in all of China – the Terracotta Warriors. Some 2,000 years ago (story time), Emperor Qin died. While he was alive he apparently thought he was extraordinary and wanted to continue feeling extraordinary in the afterlife. So what do you do? You get buried in a massive tomb with thousands of life-size terracotta warriors to guard you and continue to serve you on the dark side of the moon. Thus the Terracotta Warriors came into being. I read that each of the thousands of warriors has a unique face – pretty unbelievable, considering the sheer numbers of soldiers. There are other attractions, too – the city is littered with 1500-year-old pagodas and embellished with a thriving Muslim community and one of the oldest mosques in China. It is also the site of Chiang Kai-Shek’s abduction by a Manchurian warlord.

In short, I have learned that I cannot rely on exchange programs to pick cities for me. Lille was nice, but I would’ve been happier in Paris; Chengdu is the Manhattan of China, when I would have much preferred Xi’an. I came to Xi’an and I fell in love. I could see myself living here, working here, forming lasting relationships here. I could start a life here – not in Chengdu, where the streets are crowded with shops crammed as close together as possible, but here in Xi’an, where I can stretch out my legs and have a conversation with someone who’s actually taller than me.

I also learned that I need to get out of Chengdu as frequently as possible. I crave the sun and need to go somewhere I can see it. The rest of the semester will accordingly be packed with weekend excursions out of the city – the next two weekends are already accounted for, and right after that we’re getting another week-long break, which I hope to spend in Lhasa. At least one other weekend trip is planned for April, and International Labor Day (in May) will be spent in Beijing. Then the program will end and I’ll be off for my international adventures.

Even though my program still has another two months left, it feels like it’s nearly over.

Pictures (potentially out of order, as usual):

1. The general craziness of the Xi'an train station

2. The Terracotta Warriors!


3. More Terracotta Warriors.

4. Last Terracotta Warriors picture. I promise.


5. Bar street, not far from our hostel. The lights were really quite lovely, but unfortunately, this picture fails to capture it. Also, there were more and better lights throughout the city, but I didn't have the presence of mind to photograph them.

6. The minaret of the Great Mosque in the Muslim Quarter which, as the free pamphlet we got told us, is "cleverly disguised as a pagoda."

7. The ceiling right inside the minaret

The Second Sex

Having spent a little bit of time in China, I think it’s time I wrote a post on Chinese women. Well, I plan to talk about the men too, but my focus is mainly on the women.

One of the things that greatly surprised me here was just how affectionate young couples are with each other. Before arriving in China, it was my impression that China was rather stuck in its traditional roots. That is, polite, conservative, and exceptionally modest. Much to my surprise, though, the streets are littered with couples – and they don’t even make a play at trying to hide it. They cuddle, hold hands, and wrap their arms around each other in plain view of everyone (and we’re in China, so everyone encompasses a lot of people). This tends to give the impression that the entire country is coupled up, and I, the lone foreigner, am the only single female in the entire country.

As far as these relationships go, the men are very protective of the women. They reserve seats on the bus for them; they carry their bags; they shield them from the crowds; they pay for everything. They do their best to ensure that their female counterparts are as sheltered as possible and have to do absolutely nothing even minimally strenuous.

In terms of appearance, I think many Chinese males take greater care with their looks than American ones. There are some crazy hairdos out here – a whole head of Asian hair sticking straight out from their heads, like a gigantic Asian afro. It must take hours to do. And just imagine trying to sleep! The girls are gorgeous and glamorous, every last one of them. They all wear boots, and if they happen to not be wearing boots, they’re wearing heels. Their hair is beautiful, done up in some complex design that I couldn’t mimic if I tried. They’re all fashionistas; I’m not even sure the girls in Europe are stylish on this grand of a scale. On top of all that, they’re unbelievably slim. And utterly ageless. The 30-year-olds look like they’re 20. It’s crazy.

Another interesting observation: I have not yet met a Chinese male that does not smoke. However, I have never seen a Chinese woman smoke. Why this is I cannot fathom; I’ll have to ask a Chinese person before getting a definitive answer. However, for some strange reason, only the men smoke. Never the women.

Now, back to the dating scene. I have been informed that people here date to marry, unlike many Americans, who date to date. There is a huge push in this country toward marriage, and the population acts accordingly. So (forgive me, my experience in this particular category is rather limited), as far as I have seen, when a Chinese woman finds a man expressing any interest, she latches on to him and holds on for dear life. The girls are quite persistent and tend to ignore disinterested hints. For example, consider exhibit A, currently dating one of my fellow USAC students. A was very quick to declare her love for this fellow, whom I shall henceforth refer to as B. A also told B that she would wait for him – that is, for him to go back to America, finish school, do whatever he needs to do, etc. B, on the other hand, was very clear that once he’s gone, it’s over.

Or consider C, who was invited once by another USAC student (henceforth referred to as D) to spend some time with him. D decided he wasn’t interested; C didn’t get the hint. Some time later, they exchanged a series of text messages along these lines:

C: I would like to improve my English. Could you help me by being my language partner?
D: I’m afraid I can’t. However, I have a friend who is willing to help you out. Why don’t you get in touch with her?
C: Great! I’m so glad you are able to help me with my English.

As the exchange most likely occurred in Chinese, I find misinterpretation unlikely.

The last thing I’d like to mention is a note on body types. For example, consider me. No matter how much weight I lost (not to worry, I’m not planning on it), I would probably still only ever fit in to size 5 pants, which is not an issue in the slightest. This, as we have seen, is largely a function of my American hips. Chinese women, on the other hand, have very slight frames. When they are fully filled out, they’re still usually only about a size 0. Regardless, many of the Chinese women I know are still quite fixated on their weight (it seems to be the same the world over – or at least in America, France, and China). That being said, women under about the age of 40 or so are all still super-skinny. Even over the age of 40, they’re not overly large; some of them have just filled out a little bit. On the other hand, once men hit the age of 20, they’re allowed to fill out. In fact, I haven’t met many Chinese men over the age of 20 who aren’t a bit chubby.

It’s all very curious.

Pictures (at last! Sorry to be so slow):

1. The beautiful baozi of deliciousness, from my favorite baozi stand (three for just one kuai!). I often get a few on my way to school. I'll write more about these marvelous creations in further posts. Probably with another picture.i

2. The guqin I've talked so much about!

3. This is the kitchen Liz and I scrubbed for hours. If you look closely, you can see a black travel mug to the left of the sink. I also take this to school with me every day, generally filled with tea. This is the second best purchase I have made in China (the best being my space heater).

4. The end of the Spring Festival is celebrated with a Lantern Festival. This is a picture from Chengdu's.

5. Lovely shot of the living room. If you look past the stairs, there are two doors. The door on the right (it's open) is my room. The one next to it is Liz's room.

6. A truly excellent shot of my room and desk... er, bed. Sometimes it's hard to tell the two apart. Especially since I don't have the former.