Yellow Cows and Gray Income – 黄牛和灰色收入

Greyincome.2.Credit.1421consulting.com. Consulting Group
Is Gray Income really just a “Fact of daily life in China”? Credit: 1421consulting.com

You’re late to the game, the lines for tickets are ridiculous. You’re losing hope of getting in and watching your favorite team. Until some dude in a ball cap and jeans saunters over to you and discreetly taps a bag he’s carrying and mumbles, “Tickets, man, need tickets?”

Buying from scalpers is a gamble, no doubt, but I’ll be honest, I did it with a few friends when we almost missed a game in South Korea two years ago. The seats were crappy, but we moved around and made do. Before that shady guy showed up we thought we’d lost out on chance to see the Twins playing, but it all worked out.

China has its own kind of scalpers, and just like everything else in this country full of contradictions, they take it to the extreme. Huang Niu, Yellow Cows, is the Mandarin term used to describe these folks who hang around bus and train stations. We’ve used them here from time to time, but never as a first resort.

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No body wants to do anything about the Yellow Cow in the room…. Credit: http://www.soho.com

Where China takes this idea and goes to the nth degree is at the banks, hospitals, and other civil service industries.

About a year ago a video on WieBo (Chinese Twitter) surfaced and brought this issue into the public forum. A young woman and her mother surrounded by patients stand in line at a hospital, and the young woman is yelling at this older lady. The older woman is one of the people who wake up early, get to the hospital and get the first tickets to see the specialist doctors. She’s not sick at all, and instead sells the ticket to the highest bidder. In the video the young woman, who is seeking treatment for her sick mother, yells at the scalper for scamming people like this. The scalper calmly replies that she does all the work. She gets up and comes early. The payment is for her work and time. Very practical, right?

Where this practicality crosses the line into illegal activity is when the hospital staff and the scalper collude on the practice. This is the part that is very hard to pin down because no one admits a thing. The specialists are the ones most want to see, but there are so many people who want to get into see them that it is pretty hard. Unless you get there early enough and are lucky enough. The other way is to know someone who can pull some strings.

That’s when these scalpers use their guanxi or connections with the workers to snare this sought-after ticket, all the while keeping it from other patients who should receive it. Totally wrong and totally illegal. But hard as hell to prove on a case by case basis.

Greyincome.1.Credit.China Medical News
It’s all about those Red Maos.  Credit: China Medical News.com

The banks are another story altogether. More complex, these particular scalpers are called Zhong Jie, intermediaries, and perform more than just getting people quick tickets. The formal sounding name is fitting as you realize how institutionalized the whole system truly is. Read: Corrupt.

These Zhong Jie are customarily middle-aged women, but there are men among their ranks. Here’s how they work and how to engage their services. And why they seem like a necessary evil in the present day China.

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Credit: adst.org

In China, any official civil service that a citizen may need to use is rendered into a labyrinthine obstacle course that often leaves a person sweating, tired, and at their wit’s end due to the farce that is bureaucracy here. License, renting an apartment, paying utilities, buying property, banking—doing any of that here can make even the most self-actualized individual want to run into traffic.

Generally speaking, at any official building you can run into Zhong Jies. Stand in line for a minute or so and they will approach you on their own. Look around and you’ll find them standing by doorways or in the corners of the room chatting up the security guards. They are discreet but direct. They tell you what they can do and their price. You take them up on their offer or brave the “system” on your own.

The world of bank loans is how I entered unknowingly into this cycle of institutionalized corruption. A while back, my wife took out a loan to help her folks with a new apartment. We went to the bank and outside the doors a plump fifty-something-year-old Chinese woman with two purses met us. Xiao Ming talked to her respectfully, addressing her by her sir name with the title “Jie”—sister—after. Apparently Xiao Ming had met this woman at the housing bureau office. I had no idea who this lady was, but everyone else in the bank did.

As I quickly found out, she was a Zhong Jie, our intermediary for getting the loan at the bank. In the span of an hour and a half, she cut through a dozen lines, joked with workers while handing them our documents and a bit of money discreetly tucked between forms, and all the while assured us that everything was okay. I didn’t understand much of that morning, but it was clear that our Zhong Jie had saved us hours and hours of standing in lines and the guesswork of unclear instructions that the bank seemed to give just to screw with people. I saw several people waiting in lines, only to get to the counter and be told they’d filled out the wrong paper and needed to do it all over again, and, yes, wait in line. She helped us avoid all the pitfalls. It was like watching a slight of hand act where there were so many hands to keep your eyes on that eventually I just gave up and, when our Zhong Jie declared that a loan agent would call us in a few days, I just chalked it up to magic.

Come to find out later that Zhong Jies spend all their time at banks building up guanxi with bank employees. This is pretty much their “day job.” They do favors, give money, share food, anything to ensure a working business relationship. They are not employees at any of the places for which they provide services. The Zhong Jie then directs her customers to her “friend” and takes her cut (we paid 1,000RMB for our Zhong Jie’s service), and the bank worker also takes his share. But his comes from the loan itself. You see, there are set interests rates on loans, of course. These are annoying, but legal. The loan agent takes an extra percentage from your loan as his personal payment for providing you with the loan. This amount is divided up among the individuals involved in the process, like tip sharing at a restaurant. In Xiao Ming’s case, the bank worker took out 2 percent.

This happens all the time, in many banks around China. And is completely illegal.

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You can trust us. We don’t know how to smile. Credit: China South Morning Post

A popular Chinese television show recently shed light on this issue. That’s happening a lot lately with T.V. shows. Love that directors are pushing the envelope more and more! The specific show I’m referencing is called “以人民的名义” – In the Name of the People. This is seriously one of the most popular shows in China right now, and it’s all about the government crackdown on graft. President Xi’s mission of weeding out the corrupt and upholding the “Chinese Dream” has become hot entertainment fodder. I’m sure this is just the beginning of a series of shows where greedy officials get taken down by Party-loving (that’s a capital P) detectives and watchdog citizens. Despite the heavy hand of the Communist Party all over the show, it is still pretty engaging. Relevant to this blog post is the episode where a bank manager gets busted for the exact process I just described, and she claims that it is such a widely practiced procedure that she had no idea it was even considered corruption.

How does that happen? In the case of these new Chinese shows, art is imitating life. At least the gritty, corrupt elements of it. It’s basically a mandate from the government. So then my question is how in the hell do people get so immersed in this septic mess of criminal behavior without even knowing it’s illegal?

This isn’t a new phenomenon. Back in 1978 when China began “opening up” economically, they coined a term for this sort of “off the books” income stream that emerged: Gray Income.

Teaching, tourism, the funeral, and medical industries are all areas that generate substantial “grey income.” This is not an exaggeration. Xiao Ming’s cousins just gave birth, and a few months ago while I drove with them to a hospital they got talking about how they have to give the anesthesiologist and the doctor delivering their babies hongbao to ensure they do a good job. I couldn’t believe what I heard. Questioning them, I found out that, it’s true, they felt they had to give the doctors and nurses red envelopes packed with money in order for them to DO THEIR JOBS. When I lost my cool over this news, everyone in the car just looked at me like I was a naïve child.

One of the cousins tried to give a red envelope to her doctor for a surgery, and when the surgeon turned it down it was a big deal. Turns out, the doctor just needed a favor from this cousin’s husband (who is a police officer) a short time later. Waiving the red envelope fee was her way of ensuring the favor would get done.

I used to live in an apartment where a public school teacher was a neighbor. Every weekend her place was packed with students. All day long I’d hear kids going up and down the hall to one of her weekend “classes.” Moonlighting like this is illegal, but that didn’t bother this teacher. And it doesn’t bother so many others that do the same exact illegal thing.

Some people caught in the cycle, people like those interviewed in this NPR article claim they can’t change the system, and to survive they need to play the game. This “fact of daily life in China” is alarming not because it is happening, but because EVERYONE believes it’s wrong on an ethical and moral level, but believe they can do nothing about it. So nothing changes.

There’s no doubt that people benefit from expedient service using Zhong Jies and Huang Nius. Heck, it’s downright entrepreneurial of them to use their time this way. But they’re near the bottom of the system that goes up and up. And that system is corrupt.

The people at the very bottom are the ones who need those loans, need those workers to do their damn jobs honorably.

The people at the bottom are people like me and my wife. Like you, probably.

Unless you’re a guilty bank worker in China, of course.

Talking With Xiao Ming – 和晓明的对话

LastNightOut.JordanInChina

The other night was my school’s end of the year dinner. It was at this new Japanese style spa/restaurant/hotel/resort/compound thing. Yeah, I’m not sure how to refer to it, obviously. There was a buffet, our school’s teacher-band played, and people gave speeches to those who are leaving at the end of this year. I gave a speech for a friend that I’ll miss (but will visit in Korea), and tried not to make a fool of myself at the mic. Oh, and we all had to wear sandals the whole time.

The next morning Xiao Ming and I had one of our talks about the night.

Not an I’m-in-the-dog-house talk. A culture-differences-pop-up-everywhere talk. I love the second type of talks, and mostly actively avoid the former.

For four years Xiao Ming and I have been attending events with my colleagues – birthdays, dinners, bar nights, anniversaries, memorials, concerts, and graduations. After nearly every single one she and I sort of debrief the event.

I’m constantly amazed at how objective, attentive, and curious she is about the world around her, so much so that I actually record some of our conversations because I don’t trust myself to remember what she says faithfully. And I do want to remember. Her point-of-view as a highly educated Chinese woman with extended experience abroad and a deep, objective love of her culture and country makes her a fantastic conversationalist on most topics related to China.

“Your co-workers are so free and expressive,” she said to me. Her opinion piqued my interests and I followed up, asking her what she meant.

What follows are parts of our conversation. All of the requisite PC statements are in place here – we’re not sociologists, harbor no agenda that would benefit anyone by championing one culture at the expense of another, know that generalizations are not entirely accurate all the time, and welcome all constructive dialogue that might spring up around any of these topics.

 

Thoughts on Expression

After crying through several of the farewell speeches, Xiao Ming told me that in China something as heartfelt as personal, touching, sentimental goodbyes like that would never happen. You’d get printed out speeches where people read completely from paper with little emotional register in their voice. You’d get words like “you’re great,” “good job,” and “good luck” with no humorous anecdotes, no choking up, no passion.

Inhibitions often control the masses everywhere, but maybe more so here. I myself am not much of a dancer without some liquid courage, but Xiao Ming says that so many more Chinese people are lead-footed because of culture differences. Dancing, singing, playing in bands, these are not Chinese habits. Our staff band, she claims, is something that wouldn’t exist in a Chinese company due to the workers not being “professionals.” My colleagues are good, but they’re definitely not moonlighting for Bon Jovi on the weekends. That doesn’t stop them from putting on great shows at many of our school events and getting teachers out on the dancefloor. Save for the nearly soundproof rooms at KTVs, Spring Festival events, and contest television shows, Chinese workers don’t perform much on a regular basis.

Sentimental statements of gratitude and love are simply not a part of the conversation for families and close friends. Any culture book about China will tell you this, and it is mostly true. Xiao Ming has no memory of her folks telling her that they love her, nor would she feel comfortable telling them that she loves them. They don’t even thank each other or say goodbye on the phone before hanging up! By comparison, every time my mom WeChats us she makes sure to tell Xiao Ming and me that she loves us.

 

Thoughts on Age and Decision-Making

I work with some pretty great people of all ages, and so many of them are full of a zest for life that quite frankly puts me, at only 30, to shame. Some of my co-workers are in their fifties and they dance, laugh, sing, and party like they’re still in college. Women of the same age in China dance a bit, too, but only in the city squares and only when they’re lead by people doing choreographed movements. There’s no way in hell they’d be in bars or dancing at parties.

“Old Yellow Cows,” Xiao Ming calls these types of women. Apparently a term used to describe some of the generation that’s in their 50s and 60s now. “When they don’t have anything to do they just stand there like they’re mooing, they have no entertainment. How many times has my mom said she wants to travel, but then at the last minute she changes her mind? She’ll watch the kids, or do something else. If she does go she comes back complaining about spending money,” Xiao Ming says without pulling her punches.

Younger people, mostly women since Xiao Ming likes to ease drop on them, constantly worry about not being married, losing weight, or shopping. Sit in Starbucks a bit and you can overhear conversations from those around 30 and under and they almost always revolve around obsessively wanting to find a significant other, going on blind dates, and-or their latest romantic fiasco. If they aren’t fretting about who their Mr/Mrs. Right is then they’re posting to WeChat about losing weight while also taking Food Porn shots of their daily meals. Or they’re just flaunting their newest bargain buy with selfies of perplexing angles.

Younger Westerners just don’t seem as bogged down by the same concerns, she theorizes.

I’ve talked to Xiao Ming about how financial burdens can seriously hinder choices in America, and how bills can all but annihilate your day-to-day happiness, but she still feels that Americans tend to have more flexibility than her countrymen and women.

“There’s so many times when I interact with your co-workers and I have these thoughts,” she tells me. “Like the other day when I asked Sherry when she and Ryan were leaving and she said they were all packed up and ready to start their new life next week in Singapore. You know, it’s their life, and I don’t totally want to do that, but I do admire that. They have the choice and chance to change their life. Their life is light, no burden. They can stay somewhere for a few years and then pack up and leave. Even Pat and Cassady. They have two kids and they are free, too. Nothing in their life makes you feel like they have a big stone on their heart. But Chinese people are different. They will always think about how to be stable. Find a house, a job. Settle down and focus on their kid.”

“Even your older co-workers are so free. You can tell they live for themselves. They’re confident. Happy. I can’t even do that. I can’t stop thinking about how other people will judge me. So many Chinese people are this way. Very few Chinese people live for themselves. Even the most selfish actually do things in their life for other peoples’ eyes and judgement. There’s always a thing you have to get done or follow. Like on WeChat you can see that they post about finding a husband, losing weight, or what they eat so others can see.”

“Also like your co-workers in the band. They played instruments and sang. None of them are professional, right? I don’t see Chinese people do this if they’re not professional. They don’t play like that just to relax. Unless it’s KTV, they won’t, and that isn’t real because the machine helps your singing. They can’t be in a group and be themselves.”

 

Thoughts on Education

“I think this is connected to the way the kids are educated. Even with something like music it’s not about enjoyment. Chinese teachers won’t just let students play songs to get interested. They will force them to do the Doe, ray, me, fa, so, la, tee again and again for a month. There’s no creativity or passion. We can be great students, but we can’t apply the equation or function in the real world. Everything is too practical. Teachers think they need to train the kids to answer the questions as fast as possible. You know that even for GaoKao preparation the teachers will show the students how to answer the questions without even reading the whole sentence. It’s all test-taking skills, not about the knowledge itself.”

When I ask her what she thinks of this Xiao Ming says without hesitating, “I think this way of education kills the intelligence and innovation of students.”

“I thought it was only in schools, but since I teach in college now I see that it’s even there, too. Some majors are better than others, but still most are the same. I attend meetings and the heads of these departments just focus on what score will get you what job. Everything is about the score. They list and rank people for everything!”

“They had this so-called good student who gave a speech about how he was ashamed that he couldn’t go to Tsinghua (one of the best in China) like his brother. In the speech he talked about how important it was to get the scores, how hard he had to work, and he sounded very proud of himself. But I thought it was all bullshit. It wasn’t about the knowledge at all. He made it sound like everything is about fighting and the final result, not the process. No one talks about what you learn, what you can contribute to society, how the information makes you useful. They are still hooked on their scores, they’re still in GaoKao mentality. Maybe this explains a lot. About how Chinese people can’t innovate and why they copy so much. It comes from the education. They’re made into cows by the culture and what their parents tell them.”

“I can see this boy’s future. He will graduate and try to find a good job, a good wife, and won’t be able to change anything or be truly productive. The only kids that will be different will be the ones who aren’t great in this school system. Sometimes they’re naughty and they seem very strange to people, but they will become successful and useful people. I feel that even though you have people like this in America, some who just follow and others who stand out, in China most are followers. In America even if they’re not great, at least they have their own thoughts and personality.”

“No one can just express themselves here. It’s like in the speeches. Most of your coworkers spoke without reading from paper the whole time, but even our president can’t do that. He reads directly from his paper. And he never smiles!”

“We never had a charismatic leader, at least beyond that first generation of New China. Today they just don’t have that leader quality about them anymore. They can’t even give a speech well. And when I attended your school’s graduations these last couple years I feel that some of your students are different. It’s clear they have picked up a part of the American culture when they express themselves. A lot of the kids who studied in your school are very good. They have charisma because of the way they were educated. I think that is a great spirit.”

AudreyWang.Graduation1.JordanInChina

 

Thoughts on Parenting

“You can’t imagine how often I think of this when I interact with your co-workers. That’s why I always want to go. I don’t always talk or something, but I always watch and observe. I’m trying to understand them, understand your culture. It’s just so deeply different.”

“And I think all this is the same thing, the same phenomena come from the same root. It’s the philosophy of life, the way we think. Your people are all about being yourself. But the thing that Chinese parents often say to their kids is ‘kan bieren jia haizi,’ which means ‘look at other people’s children.’ They want you to be the same. You’re always told to follow examples.”

“Like the woman who works in the little store in our complex the other day. She was complaining about how worried she was about her son because he is getting 80s in class. She’s so worried about his future, and he’s so young, in fourth grade. And 80s aren’t bad! She said she’s so worried that he will become a useless person. It’s her main concern in life right now. So I told her that it’s okay, to calm down. It will be fine. But this is how obsessed Chinese parents are.”

“For Chinese parents everything is about their kid,” she continues. “If the kid fails in study the parents will feel like failures. They’ll feel hopeless. You can listen to the middle-age men and women talking about their children. They talk about needing to buy them a house, get them a car. They’re obsessed. If it’s a married couple they talk about this, but if it’s a younger person they talk about clothes, shopping, places they’ve been. It’s just, I feel that so many people now have no spirit. I don’t know why. Is it because we were farmers for so long? Is it just a farmer’s mentality?”

There’s no way to answer her last question, or at least I am hopelessly without an answer, so she takes a step back and considers again the role of the parent.

“The kid’s future is his. That’s the way it should be. Er sun zi you er sun fu, ‘your son and grandsons will have their own luck’ is a Chinese phrase that people should remember, but parents try so hard to control things.”

 

Closing Thoughts

It’s at about this point in the conversation that we pause and just sort of look at the people in the coffee shop. Who are we? Two over-caffeinated yuppies with too much education bashing everything around us like we have the answers? Maybe. But it beats playing video games and watching bad television.

 

P.S.

Look what a senior made me!!! She surprised me with it on her last day. Very touching!

 

Thinking of Language -语言之想

Version 2
Just having the books makes you smarter!

After reading an article that claimed John Cena (WWE Wrestler) was a proficient Mandarin speaker, I had to find proof. And so I did. I saw that interview with Mark Zuckerburg where he did his Q&A in Mandarin. I’ve even heard one-time Presidential Candidate Jon Huntsman speaking Mandarin. Apparently at some point in the recent past people up and started studying China’s official language like it was the crazy aunt’s dish she brought to a cookout that everyone swore they’d never try, but then did and loved it despite the strange smells and occasional indigestion. Too much? Anyway…

Whenever I hear someone who isn’t Chinese speaking Mandarin I immediately want to know their story. Why’d they study it? How and where did they learn? What tricks could they recommend for learning new vocabulary? Just picking it up is a pretty unrealistic sentiment when it comes to Mandarin, at least if you want to move beyond Survival Chinese, so to study means to put in serious man hours (are we saying people hours? Person hours?). When I hear non-Chinese people speaking Mandarin I also think of my first days learning it.

Probably Not the Best Way to Study…

Jayland Learning – the school that brought me to China – offered two one-hour classes a week. Every month one of the Chinese staff members taught the class, and this rotating teacher system created interesting incidents during lunch and dinner time. Mian Zi, or reputation, is highly regarded in Chinese culture, and even though there are about a million cultural gems that people pick and choose to follow in modern China, the influence and consideration of Mian Zi is one of the constants. There are all sorts of little intricacies to wielding and applying Mian Zi and I’m sure I still don’t know it all, but I do know a few things.

Make Your Teacher Look Good is one of the first tenets. So after about a week or two of classes the rest of the staff got it into their heads that starting a tradition of quizzing the lao wai would be in everyone’s best interest. From around the long wooden table questions in Mandarin flew toward me – Ni chi fan le ma? Ni dui zhongguo shenghuo xiguan ma? Zhe shi shenme (asked by pointing at random stuff)? Women de xuexiao you ji ge zhongjiaoshi? Waimian de tianqi zenmeyang? I could answer some, but not all. Getting one right brought a smile to my teacher’s face; wrong meant they sat a bit lower in their chair and got razzed a bit for their student’s mediocre performance.

Trying to simultaneously endear myself to my teacher and progress with my language study, I began translating super short stories and parables into Mandarin in order to recite them around the table. It was a big hit. Not only did the move literally get applause from time to time, my teachers quickly began to swell with pride. Even the school’s Ayi, a woman we all called Da Jie – big sister – took an interest in my story-telling. One short parable in particular made an impression. It was about a Dog who almost convinces a Wolf to give up his wild life to live with him and his master. The Wolf nearly goes for it until he realizes that to get the free food and shelter he’d have to give up his freedom and wear a leash. More than a month after I told it the first time, I heard Da Jie quoting the last line: “I’d rather die skinny and free than live fat and a slave.”

Notebooks full of words and grammar structures I’ve more or less forgotten and relearned over the years are stacked on my bookshelves. About a dozen titles like HSK Vocabulary Workbook, Graded Chinese Reader 1000 Words, and Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar: A Practical Guide accompany the notebooks and suggest to anyone who ganders at them that I am completely fluent. I am not.

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Because Language!

But I would consider myself a bilingual. Most would consider the term Bilingual to mean complete fluency in an additional language, but apparently there is a continuum. The field of study focused on Second or Additional Language Acquisition and Bilingualism has all sorts of words like additive and subtractive, coordinate, passive, balanced, and about a half dozen others to categorize those who use more than one language throughout their life. A big part of me – maybe the part that will push me to pursue a PhD in that area? – is fascinated by the different ways to analyze the role language plays in the lives of people, but another part of me just wants to be able to get a point across to my in-laws without them turning to my wife and asking “Ta shuo sha?” What did he say?

Living abroad, it’s no surprise that most of the people I talk with and work with speak more than one language. Spanish, German, Italian, Japanese, Tagalog, Dutch, Romanian, Korean, Mandarin, French – words from all of these languages crisscross and intertwine with English daily, and I love it. Maybe one day I’ll get to that stage some call Balanced Bilingualism, but until then I’ll just keep plugging away.

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What language(s) do you speak? How and why’d you study?

Calling on Relatives – 串门儿

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It’s my turn, people! Fire Rooster! Credit: Yvonne Osborn http://tlpsart.edublogs.org/

China is a country full of tradition. China is also full of people that have no time for tradition.

But most of those folks fall in line during the Chinese Spring Festival. They save up, fight for their tickets home, stuff Red Envelopes with their hard-earned cash (many of them giving up meals to do so), and spend the first week of the Lunar January with their family eating dish after dish of homemade grub. Most families pull out all the stops. Preparing the New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day meals are endeavors they labor over, choreograph, and take pride in. For days before the event, Xiao Ming’s family blew up the family WeChat Group with instructions for preparing and making the food. You’d have thought they expected Xi Jinping himself to show up.

The celebratory atmosphere lasts until Lantern Festival which is the fifteenth day of the first Lunar Month, this year that’s February 11. It’s really just the first week of the New Year that gets most of the attention, though. Once the family is all together they eat, play mahjong, watch the Spring Fesitval Gala, and some, you know, like fireworks a little bit. Starting at eleven pm you hear the crack and pop and explosive bursts all throughout the city. This goes on for about a week with minor slowdowns throughout the daytime.

For most foreigners celebrating Spring Festival in China they learn about the importance of red, fireworks, and Red Envelopes first. Those are the shiny parts of the holiday and integral to the celebrations, but another tradition is all the visiting of relatives that’s expected. The Chinese call it chuan menr – 串门儿. Just like many Americans on New Year’s Day, the Chinese pay visits to family members at this time of year.

Luckily for Xiao Ming and me, most of the family lives here in Kai Fa Qu. We headed over to the oldest male cousin’s house. He lives in the same complex as Xiao Ming’s parents and aunts. There’s like eight family members in that one complex. We used to live there, too, but it was before everyone decided it was the best place in the world to live. Now we have at least a ten-minute walk separating us!

As usual when there is a family dinner, only about half the food was ready by the designated time of 4 pm. Everyone fretted over something. Chairs for the guests, enough cups, chop sticks, who wore too little, who was too thin, who was too fat. The spread looked great. Tasted better.

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I’ve been here too long. That all looks really good to me!

After the food we all just chilled. The aunts played mahjong in the back, couple of the uncles smoked and talked about nonsense, and Xiao Ming and I watched some of the Spring Festival Gala. Every year this program takes over Chinese TV and heralds the New Year with performances from all over the country. Dances, songs, Kung Fu performances, Chinese skits of Crosstalk (Xiang Sheng), and of course over-the-top patriotic interviews with men and women in service jobs and military posts.

Then Jackie Chan leads everyone in a song of “My Home is in My Heart” while simultaneously performing Chinese Sign Language. Yeah, seriously.  Here’s a better link to it. 

Like Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, there’s the same host for decades, a countdown, and even a Midnight Meal. Back home we ate Sour Kraut and Pork. Here they eat…

Dumplings!

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Eat Me!!!

Surprised by this, anyone?

I noticed the fireworks the most my first year in China. The noise, smoke, colors. It was the Year of the Dragon. Aside from what I read online or was told at my work, I didn’t take part in much celebrating that first year, at least not Chinese celebrations. With each year that passes that changes. Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, and now the Rooster. Being a part of a Chinese family has changed the way I view and experience China. How could it not?

And a random video of me walking: