'One country, two systems' - Deng Xiaoping

I must firstly offer my apologies to those of you waiting with baited breath for another instalment of my blog and indeed those of you who harbour a healthy interest in it’s contents.  I myself can not believe that it has been over a month since I last put pen to paper or rather brush to scroll!  This absence, I am pleased to confirm, does not reflect writers block but rather the extent to which I have been occupied and positively amused. 

Stretching like a local, Xi Hu Park (2 mins from my apartment), October 2011

I spent a weekend last month in Hong Kong applying for and obtaining my working visa.  The process of acquiring a working visa in China is certainly not quick or simple but thankfully my school has basically taken care of everything and I’ve just had to sign a few papers here and there, have a medical, the odd photograph (with a red background) and travel to the Special Administrative Region (SAR).  I am a, wait for it, ‘foreign expert’ and even have a certificate to prove it!  The medical examination, which I had several weeks ago, was great fun.  I donned some white pyjamas, had a few x-rays, gave a urine sample, had a few electrodes stuck here and there and even enjoyed an ultrasound.  That is something I certainly never expected and just like a pregnant women I was looking at the screen with the nurse!  I tried to banter with the nurse asking if it was a boy or a girl etc. but she remained very stern faced indeed.  The medical concluded with a most amusing blood test that was very much a public spectacle.  There is no one in, one out private room, no queue and no softly spoken nurse to relax you.  Instead there is one large room, a lot of pushing and shoving and a nurse who looks like she does thousands of blood tests a day.  I was, of course, the subject of much curiosity and so my path to the front of the ‘queue’ was made all the more easy and everyone fell silent as my blood drained away. 

I decided against paying to fly to Hong Kong and instead took a twelve hour sleeper bus – £40 instead of £200.  This is an experience and I am glad to say that I’ve done it but it is certainly not something I recommend to anyone who is wider or taller than me.  The in-coach entertainment also confirmed something I have perhaps known subconsciously for some time – you don’t need to understand the dialogue to appreciate a Steven Seagal movie.

Settling down for the night on my way to Hong Kong, September 2011

It is pretty cool to walk into Hong Kong from China.  There were about 40 lines for Chinese Nationals and or Hong Kong Residents that were 50 deep.  There was one line for foreigners and there was just one ugly American.  That certainly went someway to offsetting the hours I must have spent cumulatively after midnight on Sunday evenings at Stansted airport trying to get home.           

October 1^st was National Day celebrating 62 years since the founding of the People’s Republic of China.  I got up early, wore my red Li Ning tracksuit top, bought a flag for 10p and waited patiently in Wuyi Square for the raising of the flag.  The majority of my foreign colleagues were still out partying when I got up and had thought me a little unusual for wishing to retire early in order to part-take in such festivities.  It was certainly not a wild celebration but rather one of respect.  The crowds, for example, didn’t sing along to the National anthem or the preceding Five Stars on the Red Flag (tune) or cheer and or clap once the flag finally reached it’s destination instead remaining silence and just wondering off.  It was also not a cold-war style ‘get’s your guns out’ parade instead just your typical military brass band and a few dozen troops.  They didn’t even come in military vehicles but hire coaches! 

Lin Qin, my Chinese teacher, and I meet Chairmao Mao Zedong in Xiamen, October 2011

National Day marks the beginning of Golden Week which traditionally was a week long annual government reminder of how good they were.  It is now just a massive vacation where everyone is ‘encouraged’ to spend money to demonstrate their patriotism.  I decided, like many Chinese, to take the opportunity to do a little travelling.  I was a little tight after my trip to Hong Kong and so decided to go on a budget trip to Xiamen with my Chinese teacher.  My father tells a rather amusing anecdote (all too often) about when he, my brother and I went camping with some friends when we were small children and basically spend next to nothing fooling around in the New Forest.  I am, however, confident that my trip to Xiamen, even not accounting for inflation, blew that holiday away.  I spent less than £50 in three full days and that included a return trip on a state of the art high speed train – the kind of which we’ll have to wait until 2025 for in the UK. 

We stayed with friends of my Chinese teacher Lin Qin – Xiao Kai and Xie Xie…and their pet turtle that costs just 10p a year to feed.  The apartment was brand new.  However, in China a brand new apartment equates to something altogether different from Europe.  In short it has a smooth cement floor, a few plug sockets, no doors and yes, you’ve guessed it, no bathroom fittings, just a hole in the floor.  Lin Qin was very embarrassed not realising the extent to which her friends apartment was not ‘fully furnished’ but I was having a great time it especially as I knew I would not be staying in these ‘conditions’ indefinitely.  A curtain had been hastily put together prior to our arrival to offer some privacy which was greatly appreciated as I really was making a right fool of myself in the bathroom.  You realise what a privileged life you have led when you have to ask someone to explain to you how you take a shower in a bathroom with no shower or bath and only a cold tap with no basin and a hole in the floor.  The technique is to buy several kettles and have them all boil water simultaneously, fill a couple of buckets and add cold water as desired.  You then wet a towel and commence washing.  I soon discovered, untutored, that if you sufficiently spread you legs, squat and bend your back it is possible to fully submerge your head in a bucket of water offering you a moment of tranquillity. 

Xiamen itself is wonderful.  As a former treaty port European architecture is plentiful, particularly on the island of Gu Lang Yu where for many years the Chinese were prohibited from visiting.  There is also a strong classical music tradition which was welcome.  As we visited during Golden Week it was extremely busy.  This was at times a little frustrating like when queuing for tickets for the ferry (only 80p return) or just plain terrifying when boarding the boat.  You are basically hoarded onto the boat like cattle and, like cattle, are crammed in and have to stand bolt upright with no hand rails!  The previous day a record 150,000 people had caught the ferry to Gu Lang Yu so I shouldn’t have been surprised. 

I could write a lot about Gu Lang Yu as we really did enjoy a wonderful day there but, in spite of all the architecture, natural beauty, food and music I am most eager to report on the most hysterical line up on offer at the equivalent of Madame Tussauds.  I was obviously not surprised to see Mao enjoying a cigarette and a cup of tea – indeed it was an opportunity to get a snap with the Chairman (albeit for £1) that drew me inside – but I was surprised to cuddle up next to Hitler, Chiang Kai-shek, Tojo and Stalin.  Hitler in Chinese is 希特勒.  If you pump this into google translate you’ll discover why it is both amusing and rather apt.

I have been asked several times by both the Chinese and my friends and family at home what things I find myself missing about Europe and the UK.  I think it still far too early to really answer this question especially as I have spent some time in Shanghai and Hong Kong that are as modern and Western as anywhere in Europe.  I am, or rather was, missing English breakfast tea.  I brought a packet with me from the UK but they soon disappeared as I listened to Test Match Special on my balcony in my pants.  There is only one shop (at least that we know of) in Fuzhou that sells English breakfast tea, Metro, and it is sadly about one hour on a bus.  I was, thankfully, able to get three boxes into my bag in Hong Kong. 

A. A. Dollimore & Son's, October 2011 

I think if I had gone to China twenty years ago I perhaps would be able to provide an answer to such a question with a greater degree of immediacy because, as it is, the internet enables one to feel very much in touch with matters in Europe should one be so inclined.  The purchase of a proxy server (approximately $40) enables me to watch or listen to anything on British TV or Radio respectively live and, furthermore, thanks to sites like the iPlayer I am not even inconvenienced by the time difference.  I have thus not been able to miss Radio 3, Radio 4 or even BBC4 – very much enjoying the recent documentary about the Regency for example.  I am also, thanks to my kindle, able to download my weekly copy of the Spectator, uncensored and cheaper than when I was at home. 

I think an easier question to answer already might be what things will you miss if and when you leave the People’s Republic.  This is already not an inconsiderable list and I could write at length about the obvious things like the food, the people and the railways.  There are also, however, many more other things that you can get all too quickly accustomed.  

I have, for example, stopped washing my own hair.  There is a salon underneath my building that will do that for me for only £1.20 (with a loyalty card in my Chinese name) and provide a 30 minute head, neck and shoulder massage.  If this was not outrageously good value enough it is also proving an excellent place to practice my Chinese as invariably other clients are intrigued by the presence of a foreigner and want to talk.   

Writing my name (Zhan Rui De) in Chinese under the
watchful eye of an intrigued local, October 2011

I think another thing I will miss, on a more comic note, are the comb-overs which are still very much the fashionable hairstyle for the balding gentleman.  I am sure few of you are surprised to hear that my Chinese is already sufficient to pass judgment on such matters.  I have found myself using it as an ice breaker – 今天早上我看见一个人,他的秃头看起来很帅 / jīntiān zǎoshang wǒ kànjiàn yīgè rén, tā de tūtóu kàn qǐlái hěn shuài - this morning I saw a man, his comb-over looked very handsome.  

The shifu and calligraphy teacher in Xi Hu Park...showing off his handsome comb over, October 2011 

Maria asked ‘What about drinking?  It would appear that, like in Germany, what you drink in China is dependent on which city or region you are in.  In Fuzhou there are essentially two brands of beer that are widely available - Sedrin and Tsingdao.  I am sure a majority of you are familiar with Tsingdao as it is readily available in many Chinese restaurants worldwide.  Sedrin, on the other hand, is not widely available outside Fujian!  It is possibly the weakest beer I have ever had the pleasure of drinking although, that said, it certainly doesn’t taste bad.  It seems to have acquired cult status amongst the foreigners in Fuzhou who enjoy all too regularly filling tables with empty beer bottles whilst eating dinner.            

If you exclude a very nice bottle of wine I drank with an old Bulgarian friend in Hong Kong, I have drunk just a single glass of wine in China – a mediocre yet expensive French wine at a friend’s birthday dinner.  This may seem incredibly prudent but when one considers the current annual per capita consumption of wine in China is only 0.35 litres it would appear I am something of a guzzler!  In fairness the vineyards of the People’s Republic are considerably further north and thus even palatable Chinese wine, let alone imported French or Italian wine is somewhat expensive.  A critical Frenchman suggested to me that the €5.00 vin de table you may enjoy in Bordeaux can cost over ¥500.00 (£50) in Fuzhou!

I feel that over the past several years I have acquired a not insignificant knowledge of my drink of choice – whisky, or more specifically, scotch – and therefore consider myself able to speak with some authority on the matter.  There is, regrettably, a poor and not inexpensive selection available in Fuzhou.  The best whisky I have found thus far has been Glenmorangie priced at ¥330.00 (£33) in Wal-Mart.  I had to travel to Hong Kong and part with nearly 500 HKD (£40) to enjoy some proper peaty Islay whisky. 

I am, once again, sorry this has been quite a lengthy account.  I really should try and be more disciplined and write less more frequently. 

    

This is testament to the standards of driving in China.  This bin has been hit by a car driving on the path! September, 2011