Phrase of the Week

   我简直想杀人！
(wǒ jiǎnzhǐ xiǎng shā rén)   

"I could simply kill someone". 

 Use this turn of phrase  during a moment when your really upset or as my classmate suggested, when the nearest public restroom runs out of toilet paper. 

故宫

China has no more iconic location than the 故宫 (Forbidden City). For nearly six hundred years this city within a city was home to the Emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties. With 999 rooms, a number of secret passages, and a spectacular royal garden. After the fall of the imperial government in 1912, the 故宫 became a lavish prison that held the powerless last emperor, and following the fall of China's republican government in 1949,  Chairman Mao stood on the balcony of the 故宫 and proclaimed the establishment of Communist China.
Today the palace is known as the 故宫博物馆 (palace museum), and it is beautifully up kept. I made the short trip there from the subway station near school last Tuesday and it was spectacular. Have a look.

好球! (Good Shot!)

Over forty years ago, a group of American athletes embarked on a diplomatic mission to the People's Republic of China on a sports tour that forever changed American and Chinese relations.

Still struggling to reconcile with seven years of failed policies, extreme isolationism and severe poverty caused largely by the Cultural Revolution, the Chinese Government extended an invitation to a small of American athletes in an attempt to renew Chinese-American relations. So much was dependent upon the success of this tour. Was this unprecedented invitation a possible first step to a more open China? Or would this mark a new period of increased competition between the U.S. and the PRC? Was there a possibility that the U.S. and China, two of the largest nations in the world, could one day join together as Allies? Numerous possibilities suddenly became possible because of the door that athletics had provided. But the Chinese were keen to pick a sport that they new extremely well, one that Mao Ze Dong at one point called China's "spiritual, nuclear weapon"-- 乒乓球 (ping pong).

Everyone in China has picked up a 乒乓牌子 (ping pong paddle) at some point (yes, it's a stereotype to say that all Chinese people are good at the sport, but I have so far found that everyone is familiar with it).  In my neighborhood 乒乓球 is played both casually (like playing at a community center with friends) and seriously ( like at a club) at all age groups. My family opts for the more casual setting, playing the 公立乒乓中心 (public ping pong center) down the road. The 乒乓中心 is simple and the structure is nothing more than a tin roof covering a couple of rows of battered 台子 (tables). In the back corner, a single table is separated from the rest by a make shift wall constructed out of some old sheets and a taught piece of string. Although net yet worn down, it has been well used, and there are slight depressions in the floor, where players have stood agressively returning ball after ball after ball. However, don't let this more laid back environment fool you, people play hard to win (I've seen old people do things that I didn't know my body could do).  This includes my host mother, who, at 57 years old, can easily beat me. Despite the competition, 乒乓  has been a great way for me to socialize and meet people. I've been playing since I was six years old and can rally pretty well. To my surprise, this skill tends to grab peoples attention. A few times I've heard whispers like “你看，那个外国人打球打得不错”  ("look over there, that foreigner actually plays pretty well").

So far I've made a few friends my age playing ping pong, but mostly I've befriended a group of older people interested in my choice to come study in Beijing. 乒乓球 has become an ice breaker for me. People seem to relax and feel comfortable initiating a conversation when they realize that I can do something that they consider Chinese. Onlookers will ask to play with me (probably to check if their eyes are deceiving them, and this black person can actually play), and by the time that we have finished playing I've usually taught my opponent some english phrases, learned some new Mandarin words, and exchanged phone numbers or been invited to dinner.  There is a spirit of cooperation that comes with playing 乒乓球, and it is best expressed in a phrase that the Chinese government crafted specifically for the American ping-pong tour through China, "friendship first, competition second." In essence,  its not the outcome of the game, but the game itself that is important. I'm sure that this is the very feeling that followed these "diplomat athletes" as they toured this country, playing in arenas packed with thousands of Chinese onlookers who simply wondered what Americans were like. I'm glad to see that this spirit lives on today in the 乒乓中心 down the road.

For More :

This brief NPR on Ping Pong diplomacy was interesting

 Watching a brief clip of Competitive ping pong won't hurt

Off The Charts!

Per a suggestion from a reader who requested a post on Chinese pop music, "Off the Charts" will be a new monthly (or maybe bi-weekly) post introducing readers to what songs are popular in China.
The first song is something people have been talking about since I arrived two weeks ago. It is a relatively new release by 筷子兄弟 ( The Chopstick Brothers. Think,  Lonely Island or a singing Key and Peele) called “你是我的小平果” (you are my little apple). It is literally impossible to avoid hearing this song at least three times each day.  While people really enjoy the upbeat rhythm and catchy melody, they have become enchanted by the "square dancing" (not really, but thats what my host mom calls it) that is an integral part of the official music video.  In fact, when head to school there is usually a group of old women "square dancing" for exercise in the local park near my house.

I think some of the parodies are just as good as the official video:

    this one has english

天安门

Literally meaning, Gates of the Heavenly Palace, 天安门 (Tian An Men) is one of the most famous sites in China. Equivalent to the National Mall (but completely concrete) in Washington, D.C, 天安门 lies in the very center of Beijing, and acts at the point of access for almost all of the city's famous landmarks. Although it's pretty touristy ( hagglers are constantly trying to shove their wares in your hands, and there are an abundance Japanese tourists snapping photos), 天安门 is the embodiment of modern China. It is a place where China's varied history becomes visually apparent as Beijing's millennium old 故宫(imperial palace) sits only steps away from Mao's mausoleum and the 人民大会堂（Great Hall of the People).

When a couple of friends and I took the subway here last evening to explore downtown Beijing, we were all struck by the sheer size of the space. Although there were clearly thousands of people, they all looked so tiny in comparison.  Also surprising to me was the large number of Chinese tourists who come to the the capital city. I don't know why that shocks me. Living in DC, I always dread the summer rush of domestic tourists with their oversized fanny packs, Hawaiian T's, and bratty kids (I'm a snob, I know). Non the less, 天安门 has an abundance of 外地人 (non-local Chinese), many from western China, who have never seen foreigners (let alone black ones). If you ever want to feel like a class B movie star ( think the actors in Sharknado 2), this is the place to go. Many of these non-locals were waiting to see the lowering of the Chinese flag, a daily occurrence that is very popular with domestic tourists. One kid around my age, told me that his family had been waiting for two hours to get a good spot to see the flag lowered. This type of patriotism is constantly capitalized upon at 天安门 as street vendors hawk small Chinese flags, pictures of Chairman Mao, and knockoffs of the hats that the 红卫兵（Red Guards) used to wear. The cult of Mao, though feeble, still lives.

 Only a few blocks away, the sight is extremely different. As my classmates and I searched for a restaurant, we strolled through a beautiful public park that, if not for the smog, could almost be considered European in style. There were lots of people walking dogs,  one couple walking hand in hand, and someone selling ice-cream. The park is home to the 国家大剧院 (National Centre for the Performing Arts), a huge egg-shaped theater that sits in the middle of a shimmering reflecting pool. Constructed in 2007, The国家大剧院 is part of a large-scale attempt to make Beijing a destination for the visual and performing arts. The center hosts performers from around the world, and has made Beijing a more culturally internationally city. This park is very characteristic of the new Beijing--it is still very Eastern, but has clearly picked up on some western influences. I wonder how The Chairman would feel about this?

The Old City Gate

Some of the 外地人

Flowers for Chiarman Mao?

国家大剧院

Week One: We're not in Kansas Anymore

Hello from China! An Amazing week has passed since the start of my journey and my first blog post. From the moment I arrived at  北京首都国际机场 （Beijing Capital International Airport) I have been warmly accepted by teachers, new students, and my new host family. Of course, my first interaction with my host family went nothing like I expected. In fact, I didn't say one word before my bags were taken from me,  I was whisked into their car, and I was interrogated about what I wanted to eat for dinner and how much sleep I had gotten on the plane.  In the past week I have truly come to admire my 中国妈和爸（Chinese mom and dad) for their patience, understanding, and overall compassion (trust me, it takes a lot of those characteristics to deal with a person who more or less  becomes a two-bit mime when he doesn't know how to say something ).  And although I do miss home, I already feel that I've gained another set of parents. This is not to say that my transition has come without difficulties. In fact, there have been certain things that I have had a lot of trouble adapting too.  Here are some of them...

1. Put your house shoes (usually slipper or flip-flops) on immediately after entering the home. (You don't want to know the types of things I have seen on the streets of Beijing)

2. Don't put toliet paper in the toliet or a serious plumbing problem will ensue. (If you ever come to China you'll realize that this is extremely difficult to remember)

3. Let the shower head run in a bucket for about three minutes, allowing the water to heat up (Also most showers consist of only a shower head and a drain. Because there are usually no wall or curtains you must be careful about where the shower head is pointing)

4.Don't drink the tap water. (All drinking water comes from either office water coolers or it must be boiled)

5. You can't use Google ( Do you know how much Yahoo sucks?)

These are the sort of mundane logistical tasks that have separated my daily life here from my daily life back in the States. And although they are necessary to perform, they still have cultural signifigance. For example, because water is often boiled to make it drinkable, many people just drink hot water or tea. In fact, it is impossible to find a truly cold drink.  Also, the demand for house shoes is so great that all Beijing department stores (Wumart in particular)  have aisles of slippers with an extensive variety color, size, and styles. So far it has been these little differences, not so much the large ones, that have really made me think about the cultural variations between Chinese and American society.  As I end this post, I am forced to recall something that a great history teacher once told me, "When you spend extensive time traveling abroad, you'll find that culture is not just major holidays or traditions, but also the brand of cereal you'll eat, the scent of soap you wash with, and the other small things that were never important to you before." I now wholeheartedly agree.