Ape Rifle

Here is an interesting take on China's megalopolis courtesy of Andy Xie over at Morgan Stanley (via T-Salon). Mr. Xie seems to be more level-headed than most when talking about the Chinese economy. In this entry he gets into the "Shanghai as showpiece" phenomenon, and the city's effect on first-time visitors:

"The visual impact of Shanghai on first-time visitors is quite powerful. It appears similar to Tokyo or New York, not what one would expect in a country with a per capita income of US$1,000. Because the physical appearance of a city is usually correlated with the wealth within, visitors to Shanghai would subconsciously draw such a link. "
[...]
"Because China’s vast labor pool keeps construction costs low, Shanghai has managed to use the inflow of funds to build a very expensive-looking city."

To read exactly just what kind of euphoric effect this city can have on tourists and visitors, check out this rather over-the-top post. Then, when you are done with that ode to utopia with Chinese characteristics, check out this rather appropriate response.

Found an interesting article over at Alternet. Although I could have done without the usual references to Marxism and socialism (ooh! the evils of capitalism!), it really does raise some good points concerning the relationship between capitalism and the environment. Is this economic model, based on the idea of perpetual growth, inherently destructive no matter how "green" industry becomes? Will the perceived need to "grow" always trump any attempt at reconciling business and environmentalism?

Regardless of your political stripes, some fascinating questions to ponder.

Two days ago I got the great news that I have been offered admission to the London School of Economics for a Masters starting fall 2004. This of course means that I have some tough decisions to make over the next few weeks.

I now have to somehow decide between urban planning at McGill (in Montreal) and an Msc in urbanisation and development at LSE. After I got accepted to McGill, the idea of returning to a familiar environment for a few years to concentrate on a great personal interest sounded too good to be true. My interest in LSE faded a bit, as the idea of relocating yet again to another new country and environment became less attractive by the day.

But when I got my notice of acceptance the other day, I felt something I have sorely missed over the past few months: real, tangible excitement. LSE, London...wow! Having just pretty much convinced myself that McGill was the way to go, everything was suddenly thrown right back up in the air.

This is not just a matter of city vs. city, school vs. school. The programs in themselves are quite different. The McGill School of Urban planning offers a two-year Masters which seems to emphasize professional development and practical application of knowledge. Basically, I come out of there as an urban planner (wow, god forbid I actually acquire some tangible, employable skills!).

The Msc in urbanisation and development at LSE, on the other hand, is only one year and, as I understand it, comes across as much more academic and theoretical. I should also note that this is the program's inaugural run, so I would be among the first group of students to start it up in fall '04.

So really, I have to figure out what I am looking for at this point in my life. So far, it has been a lot of academia and theory. Four years in Political Studies, and two years "teaching English" in China (read as devouring all the material I can find related to China's development and urbanization). Is it time to transform this interest into more tangible skills? Or, rather, is my true calling to remain on the theoretical side of things? I'm not sure whether I am ready to embark upon a career, or whether some more time arguing about economic policy over pints is in order.

I'm also afraid that my current state of mind will affect a decision that, in turn, will affect the next few years of my life. I seem to be suffering from expat fatigue, feeling a bit emotionally drained from my two years of detached existence. In that context, the idea of relocating to yet another new environment and reality, let alone the frenetic energy of London, seems a bit daunting. Usually one to go for the new and uncharted, lately I have been longing for the familiar.

However, it is quite possible that this longing will be quickly satisfied by a few months in Canada this summer. If I stay on in Montreal after that, will I regret it? Should I forgo an opportunity like LSE just because I feel a bit worn out?

McGill and LSE are both excellent institutions, but with the latter pulling ahead in terms of international reputation. LSE to me seems like it would be a crazy, energetic year, spent at an international intellectual hub surrounded by many of the world's bright minds. An exciting prospect to be sure, but as someone very close to me said: "Is it worth spending all that money only to once again have no idea what you want to do after a year?" McGill would definitely offer a little more structure and direction.

So right when I am trying to wrap up my teaching, plan for my mom's visit and figure out my return to Canada, this rather large dilemma shows up. Perfect! Decisions are hard, but somehow has to make them.

Feel free to leave any comments or suggestions, especially if you are familiar with the programs or institutions in question or if you have experience in the "what the hell am I going to do with my life" department.

Imagine you are sitting at a bar towards the end of a fun filled night. As you are enjoying your drink, a woman comes and sits next to you to strike up a conversation. She tells you something along the lines that her friends ditched her. Being polite, you probably smile and say hi, maybe even engage in a bit of harmless small talk. Soon, however, you are joined by two other guys. You say hi to them and even offer to cheers them (a usual winner around here), but they seem slightly less receptive. Next thing you know, you are outside and one of your new "friends" is trying to bash your head in with a board he just tore off a fence. The attack is soon thwarted by the boss of the bar, but you are left to wonder, in probably shock, (excuse my language here) what the fuck just happened.

Sound crazy? Well, it happened to a guy I know this past weekend. To make matters worse, he now has to deal with getting a chipped tooth fixed in China. Sure, people get into bar fights all the time, but this one was particularly worrisome as it was a completely unprovoked attack. I've seen many foreigners act like assholes in bars and come very close to deserving the scraps they inevitably start, but last Friday's incident sets a pretty bad precedent in my mind.

Will it get to the point where being polite in a bar becomes a dangerous activity? Unlike a number of nightlife patrons in this country, I would rather not spend my night wearing sunglasses and shaking my head to techno music. I'm a social person: I like to have fun, mingle, meet people, and..yes...even dance. The bar scene in Hangzhou is pretty decent, and my regular hangout in particular is usually filled with happy drunks, the kind who get up and dance on tables instead of throwing punches at each other.

But over the last few months here I've been sensing an increase in negative attitude towards "foreigners". I'm not sure if this is a growing phenomenon or simply something I'm now catching onto with my increasing Chinese comprehension and my decreasing naiveté. What used to be excused as curiosity or ignorance is increasingly appearing as mockery and belligerence. Is the honeymoon over for "foreign friends" in China?

This trend is particularly worrisome for expats and their beloved bar scene. Bars around the world are well known as breeding grounds for alcoholic-fueled combat, but the problem for us here is that we stick out like sore thumbs and make pretty convenient targets. As a "foreigner", you can never fit in. If a Chinese guy looks the wrong way at someone else's girlfriend, tempers might flare. If a "foreigner" does it, China's national pride has been offended and a fiasco ensues. This whole nationalism angle seems to rear its head quite often and can easily make a minor situation a lot less minor.

Growing up in Canada, this whole protect the tribe thing is pretty foreign to my way of thinking and I cannot, as much as I try, accept it. I judge people by their character and their actions, not their skin colour or place of origin. Last Friday's attack was more likely than not fueled significantly by the fact that an "evil foreigner" dared to be nice to a Chinese woman who approached him, not vice versa.

The problem, in the end, lies in the inability of many of these people to understand the concept of individualism. If one creepy "foreigner" mistreats women and sleeps around without considering consequences, that must mean all "foreigners" do this. Individual personality traits are quickly blown into generalizations of ridiculous proportions. You are a "foreigner" first and foremost, with all the baggage that entails. Somehow 5 billion people are reduced to one large, broad stereotype. Resistance is futile.

Of course, I am not knocking the many wonderful and open-minded people I have met during my time here. They are the ones I will remember when I go back to Canada, although incidents like Friday night cannot help but taint the memories a little.

Somewhere deep down inside I have a feeling I might be leaving China at just the right time, as the "foreigner as curiosity" mentality gives way to something as yet unknown and perhaps a little more volatile. Let's just hope this is not replaced with a destructive "foreigner as scapegoat" approach, what with the wrong people getting richer and the wealth gap increasingly freakin' unreal. Anyone who thinks they are special or loved as a result of their 老外 status is just in complete denial: you are an interest, an investment, and you are currently being protected as such.

However, I want to cut the pessimism right here and end things on a nice positive note. I'm including a picture of 西塘 (Xi Tang), a fascinating water town (think canals and foot bridges) in northern 浙江省 (Zhe Jiang province). I went there for the day, invited by the family of a bright middle school kid I tutor. It was suprisingly relaxed and picturesque, considering it is crammed right into the endless industrial sprawl that is quickly turning Nanjing/Shanghai/Hangzhou into one giant development zone. Of course, my student and I had an unofficial competition going to see who could max out their digital camera's memory capacity first. I won.

After almost two years here, I'd like to think I have achieved a basic ability in Mandarin, at least enough to survive in daily life and have interesting drunken bar chats. Characters and vocabulary are starting to stick in my head in increasing numbers, and I'm finally getting a little more comfortable stringing the whole mess together (although, yes, the tones still get me down). I no longer feel lost, and the language is feeling pretty commonplace and comfortable to me (although, obviously, still often not understood very well). I've been thinking this was quite an achievement, considering I've never even studied the language.

And then nights like last night happen. I went out to dinner with some staff from the primary school I moonlight at, and I had what could only be described as a complete Chinese language meltdown. Of course they told me that my ability was astounding, but they were only being polite: they acted like they didn't understand a word I said, even the basics. Or if they did, it would be greeted with some laughter after a long pause ("OH!..I think he means...!") To accompany this, their Chinese was sounding completely foreign again, I couldn't catch ANYTHING they were saying. I was messing up and misunderstanding very basic stuff. I have no idea how this happened, but last night was a very shameful display. I had scary flashbacks of September 2002. Disgraceful.

Needless to say I returned home extremely frustrated with myself and briefly considered donating my Chinese learning materials to the street noodle lady to complement her coal supply. But then I consoled myself by thinking about some of my students, who after many years of toiling over English can barely string a sentence together in that language. Today I share their pain (and then, of course, laugh at them).