I had the slightest interaction with someone on the MTR a few days ago in Hong Kong. She half-stood up, and at her tiny stature, strained to see above everyone’s heads to find out what station we had just arrived at. She must have just not been mentally present or aware, as they’d just announced it over the loudspeaker in three languages, all of which she likely speaks—her 2 designer bags (LeSport Sac, Coach) and double ‘C’ Coco Chanel rind indicated that she was well-off and educated. Nevertheless, this doesn’t mean that she doesn’t give in to daydreaming to exit the boring present of the MTR commute like all of us generic-brand wearing public transit patrons. Thus, there was a flicker of panic in her eyes as she tries to decide whether or not it was to push her way through the crowd and out of the open doors of the metro car.
Witnessing all of this in the span of 2.3 seconds, I leaned over and stated, “Jordan.” She locked eyes with my own, and with a sigh of relief, gratefully replied, “Aaah—I’m going to Tsim Sha Tsui.” We rode together without interaction for just one more stop, until she stirred as the train slowed, and looked and me and stated, “Have a seat.” My painfully sore, heeled leather boot-clad feet were very thankful as I watched her escape through the automatic doors, never to be seen in my life again.
It was such a beautiful and simple example of how humans are eager to repay any act of kindness with something of their own. It also shows the benefit of being aware of our surroundings—interactions like these contribute to a brand of happiness that only exists when you help others, however slightly. Making a habit out of gestures like these really can restore faith in fellow man, whether it’s reciprocated like mine was, or only a notion appreciated on the receiving end.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Chinese Vocab for the Shower
Sometimes it's a bit funny the situations that you never thought you'd get into while having to speak a foreign language. You don't usually learn in class how to yell at a restaurant manager when you wait for 40 minutes for your food before someone finally tells you they've run out of what you ordered. Your Chinese teacher won't teach you the necessary vocabulary to set right an uncivilized person who cuts in front of a line, spits at your feet, or pushes onto the crowded subway while you're trying to alight. Similarly, looking back on a situation that I had last week, it makes the memory even more hilarious that it was Chinese rather than my native language that spewed out of my mouth.
I've found a new hobby that I've luckily been able to spread to a few friends of mine as well: Squash. It took me 20 years of living before I'd even heard of squash, when a cute boy I met on a Spring Break trip to Acapulco played it at his college. The sport became nothing but an inside joke between my travel companions (who had both taken interest instead in athletes of the rather more manly sport of ice hockey), and we laughed it off. As it turns out, squash is actually one of the more fun sports I've ever played, and I wish I'd let it spark my interest a bit more back then.
Last week, three friends and I went to a local squash court at a hotel here, where we'd played a few times before. I like the place. The prices are decent, the courts are nice, the facilities are good, and it's simple to make a reservation. Each person pays 40 RMB for an hour of play, which is about US$7. Squash: it's fun, social, and amazing exercise. The only problem is, it's played in a tiny enclosed court with barely any ventilation, and I live in a very tropical climate. Thus, by the end of an hour, the walls themselves are sweating, let alone your own exhausted body. Luckily, the locker rooms have some amazing showers, so we always enjoyed a quick rinse before heading off for a celebratory pint.
On this particular day, however, my friend had gotten out of the shower before me, when I heard some sort of struggled argument between her and a gym worker. (She is a beginner in Chinese; the worker spoke very broken English.) I could tell something was wrong, so naked in my shower with the water still running, I stuck my head out of the curtain and asked the woman in Chinese what the problem was. She angrily exclaimed that we hadn't paid for the showers, and that we each had to pay a whopping 40 RMB for them.
Side note: when I say we were yelling at each other, in American terms I do mean it. But in China, it wasn't really an angry conversation, as those of you who have visited or lived here know that sometimes even conversations that aren't heated occur at a loud volume.
"40 RMB for a shower!" I exclaimed from my shower cubicle in Mandarin. "No way! No one told us you have to pay for showers! Every time we come here we take showers and no one has ever told us this."
"You must pay! It's our policy!" She retorted. "You owe an extra 160 RMB!" (Keep in mind we'd paid that amount for the entire hour of play.)
Thus, the woman and I shouted at each other in this way for about 5 minutes before both of us looked down and realized something: we would never come to a conclusion while I had soapy hair, water gushing on my back, and my nudity was separated from the room by nothing but a thin sheet of plastic. Thus, she blushed after realizing the awkward position she'd put me in and looked at the tile floor and muttered, "Let's talk about this after..." I laughed and pulled my head back inside the curtain.
Luckily, I eventually persuaded them to allow us that day's showers for free, with a promise that we wouldn't take them after future squash games.
So, to all you textbook authors, I recommend you write a chapter for your next Chinese book called Vocabulary for Arguing About Showers While You're Naked in the Shower.
I've found a new hobby that I've luckily been able to spread to a few friends of mine as well: Squash. It took me 20 years of living before I'd even heard of squash, when a cute boy I met on a Spring Break trip to Acapulco played it at his college. The sport became nothing but an inside joke between my travel companions (who had both taken interest instead in athletes of the rather more manly sport of ice hockey), and we laughed it off. As it turns out, squash is actually one of the more fun sports I've ever played, and I wish I'd let it spark my interest a bit more back then.
Last week, three friends and I went to a local squash court at a hotel here, where we'd played a few times before. I like the place. The prices are decent, the courts are nice, the facilities are good, and it's simple to make a reservation. Each person pays 40 RMB for an hour of play, which is about US$7. Squash: it's fun, social, and amazing exercise. The only problem is, it's played in a tiny enclosed court with barely any ventilation, and I live in a very tropical climate. Thus, by the end of an hour, the walls themselves are sweating, let alone your own exhausted body. Luckily, the locker rooms have some amazing showers, so we always enjoyed a quick rinse before heading off for a celebratory pint.
On this particular day, however, my friend had gotten out of the shower before me, when I heard some sort of struggled argument between her and a gym worker. (She is a beginner in Chinese; the worker spoke very broken English.) I could tell something was wrong, so naked in my shower with the water still running, I stuck my head out of the curtain and asked the woman in Chinese what the problem was. She angrily exclaimed that we hadn't paid for the showers, and that we each had to pay a whopping 40 RMB for them.
Side note: when I say we were yelling at each other, in American terms I do mean it. But in China, it wasn't really an angry conversation, as those of you who have visited or lived here know that sometimes even conversations that aren't heated occur at a loud volume.
"40 RMB for a shower!" I exclaimed from my shower cubicle in Mandarin. "No way! No one told us you have to pay for showers! Every time we come here we take showers and no one has ever told us this."
"You must pay! It's our policy!" She retorted. "You owe an extra 160 RMB!" (Keep in mind we'd paid that amount for the entire hour of play.)
Thus, the woman and I shouted at each other in this way for about 5 minutes before both of us looked down and realized something: we would never come to a conclusion while I had soapy hair, water gushing on my back, and my nudity was separated from the room by nothing but a thin sheet of plastic. Thus, she blushed after realizing the awkward position she'd put me in and looked at the tile floor and muttered, "Let's talk about this after..." I laughed and pulled my head back inside the curtain.
Luckily, I eventually persuaded them to allow us that day's showers for free, with a promise that we wouldn't take them after future squash games.
So, to all you textbook authors, I recommend you write a chapter for your next Chinese book called Vocabulary for Arguing About Showers While You're Naked in the Shower.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Jokes & Articles
The pluralization in the title is a deception. Here follows only one of each:
In an international class, the teacher poses a discussion question to the students:
"What is your opinion on food scarcity in other countries?"
The African student replies, "What is food?"
The European student says, "What is scarcity?"
The American student says, "What are other countries?"
and the Chinese student says, "What is my opinion?"
Absolutely love it.
Here's a link to the most recent article I've written for Global Times, about how I'm enthused about some Shanghai universities planning to upload their lectures to iTunes U for free download.
Online Lectures Offer Opportunity
In an international class, the teacher poses a discussion question to the students:
"What is your opinion on food scarcity in other countries?"
The African student replies, "What is food?"
The European student says, "What is scarcity?"
The American student says, "What are other countries?"
and the Chinese student says, "What is my opinion?"
Absolutely love it.
Here's a link to the most recent article I've written for Global Times, about how I'm enthused about some Shanghai universities planning to upload their lectures to iTunes U for free download.
Online Lectures Offer Opportunity
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Earth Ship
I accompanied my awesome friend Anders and his amazing girlfriend Bailing to help build the first ever Earth Ship in China. For those of you who don’t know, an Earth Ship is a completely self-sustained house that is made primarily of recycled and natural materials. Think re-used old tires, plastic bottles, and dirt from the very hillside into which it is built. It collects, stores, pumps, and re-filters its own water for use in the sinks, toilet, shower, and even watering the plants in the built-in greenhouse. Finally, as you might guess, all of the electronics in the house typically run on solar power generated by rooftop panels. While I can’t say that I would likely suck it up and live full time in a home made out of tires packed with dirt, I definitely advocate the message behind it of living our entire lives in a more sustainable way. Earth Ships were first designed by a man named Mike Reynolds in New Mexico way back in 1969, and the official ones are built by a company that you can find here: http://www.earthship.org/ 
I really think it’s great to see something like this going on in China. Even moreso, it was wonderful to meet locals who are passionately involved in the project and trying to spread the concept of environmental living around their home country.
I really think it’s great to see something like this going on in China. Even moreso, it was wonderful to meet locals who are passionately involved in the project and trying to spread the concept of environmental living around their home country. 
--
Throughout the day, I had quite a few inspirational conversations with my fellow volunteers. One notion that Anders and I discussed dealt with education systems. The project leader Damien mentioned that he had to calculate a right angle in order to build a certain part of the house just so for maximum strength. He said that while none of their young interns could remember that for this task they should use the Pythagorean Theorem, this exact 7th-grade geometric equation is what he utilized. Thus, we initially discussed how a practical, hands on education can be much more effective in teaching students useful application. Take the kids out into the field and have them volunteer and build a damn house, helping out the community while learning about applied geometry at the same time. (There’s a fine line between this and child labor, so please be careful when heeding this advice.)
Secondly, how many of these kids are actually going to be building a house or working in a field where they need to know how to calculate the hypotenuse of a right triangle? Minimal, at best. Most of the information that we learn is really only a means to a way of thinking and a basis for answering further questions through logic. Thus, I think it a major shame that teachers tend not to focus on this meta-education. Education about education. Learning about why you learn. Making the connection that will be what actually helps you in the future. I had one professor who explicitly did this in college, constantly telling us to write down the QUESTIONS instead of the ANSWERS that we learned. This is some of the most valid advice I ever received in my education, it’s just unfortunate that it came so late.
--
Finally, I will leave you with what I look at as an amazing bit of wisdom from the man who is responsible for the Earth Ship project in China, Ian. While I mostly zoned out during an intense philosophical discussion far beyond my Chinese abilities, the conversation actually ended with a short bit of English. Ian looked each of us in the eyes, and said “You are the most important people in the world to me. But only right here, right now.” I project this to mean a vast volume of things, as I hope you can read into as well, and perhaps at a later date I’ll expand more into how it tremendously effects the way that life is lived.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Shanghai as a Solitary Vice
Another article I wrote for Global Times:
A recent farewell dinner for a fellow expat who is returning to our mutual home country led to a cheesy yet heartfelt discussion of what we all love most about Shanghai. Among the overwhelmingly positive answers, my favorite must have been about the strong independence that is necessary to develop throughout life here.
There are a slew of challenges thrown at me everyday dealing with language difficulties, errands, and public transportation mishaps (When will Line 10 finally be open past 4:00?). But this is a different type of independence-- merely the ability to subsist alone is not what life, or this article, is about.
What I'm talking about is the internal and segregating independence that accompanies the realization that most of my friends that I meet and become close with here are transient. Although we may develop a deep connection and a binding trust, there is always the lingering notion that after one or two crazy years in Shanghai, we will likely return to our respective hometowns, or travel on to our next big adventure in some other foreign location. It's a feeling fairly unique to Shanghai, as a true international hub for students and young members of the workforce.
In the same way that terminal dating can hinder an otherwise meaningful depth between two lovers, Shanghai's expat friendship scene can seem shallow. At times it's difficult to remember why we invest time in building bridges when we know they'll be singed after our departure. Although endless connections through social media have made maintaining contact with international friends easy, when there's fewer deep conversations and no real fun to be had together, friendships will quickly dissipate.
It's this separation that forces me to realize that really, you are your own best friend, and that's OK. In fact, it's great. There's so much to experience in this city and the world that to depend on others for all of one's life would be a true disservice to one's self.
On the other hand, the expats that I've met in Shanghai are often of a different breed from people I've met elsewhere. Open-minded, intelligent, and worldly, many of my friends in this city have contributed to my life experience in an extremely meaningful way. Even though I’ll likely never live in the same vicinity as my Parisian Shanghai best friend again, I’ll never forget the hours we spent discussing linguistic differences and their cultural implications while she earnestly tried to correct my pronunciation of the French ‘r.’
It’s an odd feeling to know that the people I frequent The Shelter, Moganshan Lu, or Bifengtang with might be removed from my mobile’s phonebook in 12 months. But it’s a great one to know that I can turn off that same phone, spend a day or two enjoying the recent outstanding weather on my own, and still feel completely fulfilled.
A recent farewell dinner for a fellow expat who is returning to our mutual home country led to a cheesy yet heartfelt discussion of what we all love most about Shanghai. Among the overwhelmingly positive answers, my favorite must have been about the strong independence that is necessary to develop throughout life here.
There are a slew of challenges thrown at me everyday dealing with language difficulties, errands, and public transportation mishaps (When will Line 10 finally be open past 4:00?). But this is a different type of independence-- merely the ability to subsist alone is not what life, or this article, is about.
What I'm talking about is the internal and segregating independence that accompanies the realization that most of my friends that I meet and become close with here are transient. Although we may develop a deep connection and a binding trust, there is always the lingering notion that after one or two crazy years in Shanghai, we will likely return to our respective hometowns, or travel on to our next big adventure in some other foreign location. It's a feeling fairly unique to Shanghai, as a true international hub for students and young members of the workforce.
In the same way that terminal dating can hinder an otherwise meaningful depth between two lovers, Shanghai's expat friendship scene can seem shallow. At times it's difficult to remember why we invest time in building bridges when we know they'll be singed after our departure. Although endless connections through social media have made maintaining contact with international friends easy, when there's fewer deep conversations and no real fun to be had together, friendships will quickly dissipate.
It's this separation that forces me to realize that really, you are your own best friend, and that's OK. In fact, it's great. There's so much to experience in this city and the world that to depend on others for all of one's life would be a true disservice to one's self.
On the other hand, the expats that I've met in Shanghai are often of a different breed from people I've met elsewhere. Open-minded, intelligent, and worldly, many of my friends in this city have contributed to my life experience in an extremely meaningful way. Even though I’ll likely never live in the same vicinity as my Parisian Shanghai best friend again, I’ll never forget the hours we spent discussing linguistic differences and their cultural implications while she earnestly tried to correct my pronunciation of the French ‘r.’
It’s an odd feeling to know that the people I frequent The Shelter, Moganshan Lu, or Bifengtang with might be removed from my mobile’s phonebook in 12 months. But it’s a great one to know that I can turn off that same phone, spend a day or two enjoying the recent outstanding weather on my own, and still feel completely fulfilled.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Knocking Down Culture
I freelanced a few articles for Global Times, Metro Shanghai, an English-language newspaper in China. Here's the first one, with a couple more to follow...
“This city is just so… futuristic,” my sister repeated over and over while I led her around my new home. It’s a surprising realization for an American who had never crossed over to Asian soil as China is often feared to be ancient, unkempt and raw.
The latter view of China is the one that most Westerners hold: a romanticized imagination of the Middle Kingdom as the home of fallen emperors and the historical sites they’ve left behind. Not only does this give Shanghai a unique identity among the world’s large cities, but it also brings soft power to the country as a whole – the attraction of this ideal of Chinese culture is a major driver of tourism, immigration and even investment.
One of my favorite things about living in Shanghai is when I see or experience the type of familiar interactions that I know have been commonplace in China for hundreds of years. In my hometown of Los Angeles, you will not see old men playing chess in the park or groups of ladies in a choreographed dance on a street corner. However, I find that the more modern each district becomes, the less likely you are to come across these types of richly cultural activities.
And increasingly, every older area of the city is being rebuilt to resemble the cookie-cutter, modern areas of Shanghai. According to the Shanghai Statistical Bureau, more than 800,000 households were demolished to make way for skyscrapers, shopping malls, and other city modernizations over the past 10 years. I witnessed firsthand a massive gentrification project on the old Shanghai neighborhood where I live in Hongkou district.
The unfortunate effect of globalization, modernization, and beautification of this evolving city might indeed undo a large portion of this community feeling. Police pluck peddlers and loiterers off the streets in order to create a better city and a better life. But in the process of reaching the global standard of a civilized locale, I truly hope that Shanghai doesn't sacrifice the most appealing parts of its everyday culture.
“This city is just so… futuristic,” my sister repeated over and over while I led her around my new home. It’s a surprising realization for an American who had never crossed over to Asian soil as China is often feared to be ancient, unkempt and raw.
The latter view of China is the one that most Westerners hold: a romanticized imagination of the Middle Kingdom as the home of fallen emperors and the historical sites they’ve left behind. Not only does this give Shanghai a unique identity among the world’s large cities, but it also brings soft power to the country as a whole – the attraction of this ideal of Chinese culture is a major driver of tourism, immigration and even investment.
One of my favorite things about living in Shanghai is when I see or experience the type of familiar interactions that I know have been commonplace in China for hundreds of years. In my hometown of Los Angeles, you will not see old men playing chess in the park or groups of ladies in a choreographed dance on a street corner. However, I find that the more modern each district becomes, the less likely you are to come across these types of richly cultural activities.
And increasingly, every older area of the city is being rebuilt to resemble the cookie-cutter, modern areas of Shanghai. According to the Shanghai Statistical Bureau, more than 800,000 households were demolished to make way for skyscrapers, shopping malls, and other city modernizations over the past 10 years. I witnessed firsthand a massive gentrification project on the old Shanghai neighborhood where I live in Hongkou district.
The unfortunate effect of globalization, modernization, and beautification of this evolving city might indeed undo a large portion of this community feeling. Police pluck peddlers and loiterers off the streets in order to create a better city and a better life. But in the process of reaching the global standard of a civilized locale, I truly hope that Shanghai doesn't sacrifice the most appealing parts of its everyday culture.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Freethought
"...Do not accept anything by mere tradition... Do not accept anything just because it accords with your scriptures... Do not accept anything merely because it agrees with your pre-conceived notions... But when you know for yourselves—these things are moral, these things are blameless, these things are praised by the wise, these things, when performed and undertaken, conduce to well-being and happiness—then do you live acting accordingly."
- Siddhārtha Gautama Buddha
- Siddhārtha Gautama Buddha
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