I Just Accidentally China... the Whole Thing!

你是草场上最大的屁篓子。

You’re the biggest fartbasket on the playground.

China Hipsterism

So, after a year-long break from updating this blog, I'm back to share more observations and adventures. As I'm soon to begin my third year as a teacher in China, I've found myself falling into a bit of what I'll call “China Hipsterism.”

It's no secret that the economy in the West is tanking. Despite the glimmers of hope that come with reports of a recuperating stock market, massive inequalities sustain. This being the case, Westerners are bound to look abroad for more opportunities. Hell, some aren't even looking for opportunity insomuch as relief. They just want to be able to afford food, rent, and utilities each month without maxing out their credit cards. The threat of massive unemployment, too much competition, and companies trying to get people to work for free just isn't that alluring anymore.

China has attracted some pretty well-adjusted, normal people. Some are just college graduates looking to kill some time while they wait for the economy to heal. Others are gristled stragglers, wrinkled perverts that found themselves washed upon the shores of the Middle Kingdom, after Western society vomited them up. You can find them at the local expat bars, smoking like chimneys and arguing in slurred speech. Every city has their own.

Hipsterism isn't a good thing, to be sure. But it's an attitude one begins to forge after living in China for more that a year. Every year, a drove of fresh foreign faces will descend on each city, bringing their cultural orientations with them. You can watch them go through the same phases of discovery, some of which are even included in this blog: “Wow, this whole street smells like shit!” “Whoa, what do you mean no toilets, that shits cray, cray!” You can watch them transition through the peaks of excitement, to the troughs of numbing disappointment: anger at poor service at the bank, or sitting through a lackluster cuisine.

After one becomes inured to the inconveniences: the sights, the smells, the rudeness, the shoddiness of everything, hearing those observations again can feel a little too redundant. Instead of the arrival of the new Westerners being met with enthusiasm, it is met with vague apprehension: “Oh, here they come again with all their noobie noobiness.” Thus, China hipsterism is born. It's not “I was in China before it was cool.” It's “I was in China before you, and I speak Chinese.”

And there is nothing wrong with someone being a tourist, really. Why get annoyed with someone for wanting to visit a foreign place? If anything I should be excited when more Western faces appear. I don't always like it when Chinese people gape at me like I'm a magical unicorn. If more white people show up, maybe the novelty will wear off. Maybe the next time I go out, no one will blink an eye.

But most people don't stay for more than a year. Nor do they have any plan to. They come, they get their fill, and then they go right back home, enjoying their more plush comforts.

As I went through the new Starbucks that opened in town, a number of noobies walked in and got in line behind me. We exchanged glances, and though they looked interested in conversation, but I wasn't in the mood for talking. Are all white people obligated to speak to each other when in foreign environments? I stepped down the way to wait for my brewed coffee. This white kid stepped up and asked for a “Raspberry White Mocha.” He didn't speak any Chinese. He just came up with his pissy Western expectations of customer service, and asked for a drink a teenage girl would fancy. I don't know why I found that so irritating. Perhaps it was because I was living perfectly fine without reminders of the things that used to annoy me while living in the U.S..

“Oh, would you like a pink tutu and sparkle wand with that, you fucking douche?” I shouted down the line. He gaped back at me with incredulity.

…

No, I actually didn't do that. But I wanted to.

I am Culturally-Modified Iron Man

When I heard they were making adjustments to the new Iron Man movie for Chinese audiences, I didn't know what to expect. The thought crossed my mind, what if they made Tony Stark into a Han Chinese male? What would he be like? Hmm. Would he actually develop technology on his own, or would he just use the internet to steal designs from the U.S. Government? Would he actually live in China, or would he do what other rich Chinese do, and move to the U.S.? Would women still throw themselves at him? Hmm.

As it happens, one of the main plots in Iron Man 3 is when Tony Stark is forced to operate with a broken-down Iron Man suit. I felt the story would go over really well with Chinese audiences because they know what's like when shit breaks down and they're forced to make-do with something crappy.

But in further attempts to pander Chinese audiences, Hollywood decided to add in some auxiliary scenes to the Chinese version of “Iron Man 3,” things the West never saw. These clips added Chinese actors that have no significant presence in the rest of the film. They bring in Wang Xueqi (王学圻) to play Dr. Wu, and Fan (Sex-face) Bingbing (范冰冰 ) to play an unnamed nurse. In the film, Dr. Wu is charged with the role of removing the shrapnel from Tony Stark's chest as a medical specialist. As if any wealthy American would ever go to China for that kind of treatment ever.

Fan Bingbing (范冰冰 ) Distressed.

But what was funny were the shots of Dr. Wu talking in his Chinese office. If you were to look through the windows, and you could see a run-down, polluted city skyline. I don't know why they wouldn't beautify the images to fit the style of the rest of the film, but whatever. If they were going to bolt-on unnecessary scenes like those, they could have at least been exciting. Unfortunately, they were dull bits of dreck. Overall, Chinese audiences found the additions insulting to their intelligence, as they were obviously superfluous. Most wanted to see the version the rest of the world sees. It all comes back to the Ministry of Culture.

The Ministry of Culture is a group of people that decide what is and what is not appropriate for Chinese audiences. They are appointed by the government to trim foreign motion pictures to their sensibilities. In many cases, their choices on what needs editing, or what doesn't, is rather inconsistent with what is already available in mainland Chinese entertainment. For example, they're not cool with violence in Western films, but there are plenty of Chinese kung fu films that are just as bloody. They will not tolerate foreign films where the bad guy doesn't face justice, though in Chinese movies, it doesn't always happen.

But the one thing the Ministry of Culture will not tolerate, under any circumstances, is bare boobs.

There was a fiasco earlier this year surrounding the release of Quentin Tarantino's “Jango” after they already had mutilated it and got it sanitized for release. On Thursday April 11^th, on what would have been the film's opening day in China, it was yanked out of theaters. Why? Officials were confronted by a brief sight of nudity when Jango's slave wife was pulled out of confinement. That ruffled the fuck out of their feathers. So to appease them, the film had to go back on the chopping block. After a few more modifications, they re-released the film, and guess what? No one bought a ticket. Everyone in China knew they'd be seeing a watered-down, neutered version of the film, so they just stayed at home and downloaded the unedited version off a torrent.

Though China is not a democracy, there are surely some democratic influences when the Chinese speak with their wallets.

Don't fuck with Lei Feng

Earlier this year, the Chinese government funded the production of a propaganda film called “Young Lei Feng.” If you don't know who Lei Feng is, he is considered the moral example for Chinese people. He was a PLA soldier back in the late fifties who is said to have behaved quite selflessly in the promotion of communist values. You will still find billboards endorsing his name around China that say, “学习雷锋” (Study Lei Feng). The Chinese government hyped the shit out of this film, setting release on a date they dubbed “Learn from Lei Feng Day.” After all the build-up, the commercials on billboards, internet and the radio, they got ready for opening day... and not a single soul bought a ticket. It seems that cynicism prevails when the Chinese government tells the public which kind of moral values to endorse. The government sheepishly pulled the film from theaters.

Going to films in China is much more affordable than in the West, especially for 3D features, but the one thing I dislike is how they turn out the lights and kick everyone out immediately after the credits start rolling. They don't seem to understand that the credits are also a part of the film, and there is a reason they are there, even if very few people may be interested. I waited all the way until the end of the Chinese Iron Man 3 for the Easter egg, and got nothing. There was no goddamn Easter egg in the Chinese version. All the while the Chinese staff was scratching their heads as to why anyone would stay after to watch the credits. I wanted my Easter egg.

Revelations

So now I'll share a positive experience I've had. Many of the items in this blog tend to lean toward the more critical side. And not all of my experiences in the Middle Kingdom have been bad. If that had been the case, I wouldn't have agreed to stay for three years. Every once in a while, when you're involved in the teaching field, there comes a time where something goes right. Perhaps a student will be awarded with some insight of some kind, and you will see the unmistakable expression of enlightenment on their face. It's those kinds of moments that make the gig worth it.

There was a young girl looking to get into a prestigious school in Singapore, and in order to do so, she needed to pass an interview in English. I got hired by her mother to help her out, and after reading all of her responses to possible interview questions, I sat with her to refine her introduction and materials. We practiced pronunciation, and I helped her understand the reasoning behind the items we wrote. I told her not to just memorize the sentences, just to understand what they meant and what she wanted to say.

A couple weeks later, I had completely forgotten about the project. I got a call from the girl's mother on her cell phone, and she said the girl wanted to speak to me.

The girl told me that she's been accepted out a group of fifteen other candidates. She said they seemed very impressed, and she couldn't have done it without my help. In a parting statement, I told her that it was her talent that got her into that school, and I was only the guide. She kept thanking me, over and over, until I told her I had to go.

I tend to have a rather cynical attitude about how helpful I am as a teacher at times. In my experience teaching college classes, there have been times when my students have made it more than abundantly clear that they have no interest in anything I have to say. They don't respect the idea of English as a mandatory professional requirement. But this wasn't one of those times.

This time, I felt I had finally done something worthwhile. I felt that my guidance had actually helped her, and it was more than a futile exercise. Who's to say where she would go someday, as a result of that interaction? Perhaps someday she will even be a future leader, someone who will do important things to shape her nation. I found myself getting a little choked up over the idea, even if I had agreed to help the girl under the precedent of financial gain. You never know you've done something good until it hits you like a bag of bricks.