going, going, gone …

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Shenzhen’s mayor Xu Zhengheng (徐宗衡简历) has been arrested for graft and yesterday the resume of the new  mayor Wang Rong (王荣简历) was broadcast on televisions throughout the city, including on street corners, buses, and taxis.

And not even with much of a wimper, let alone bang. What has been interesting is the lack of conversation about the scandal. Maybe people haven’t spoken to me about the topic because I’m foreign, but it could also be because Shenzhen people take corruption to be business as usual. When the topic did come up, most complained that Xu Zhengheng had gone too far (太过分), or that maybe somebody was gunning for him, or maybe that possibly didn’t have any friends in Beijing. The general consensus, however, was that if Xu Zongheng had  had been content with five million, even 10 million, all would have been well. However he just “went to far”. Indeed, I heard graft figures as high as “several hundred millions (上亿)” for himself and even more for his “network”. Rumors rumors…

The most interesting analysis came from one of my better connected friends who said that this case showed that there was a clear difference between “the people’s will (民意)” and “righteousness (正义)”.  He thought the arrest of the mayor was a good sign (of oversight) and expected to see more arrests follow.  However, in his opinion tolerance for graft and corruption had a deep history in China, so taking a few million, especially if you worked hard for the city wasn’t a problem, but in terms of making China a “just” society more had to be done. He also thought this general tolerance for some level of graft explained the difference between the amount of tax revenue the city generated and the actual amount of money going in and out of the banks. How, he wondered, could the government know, come to terms with, and actually regulate all the economic activity in Shenzhen, let alone Guangdong and the rest of the country if at every level the “people’s will” allowed for leaders to take an unreported portion of the profits for themselves?

Shekou Tempest Updates

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Twenty years after the Shekou Tempest, reporters interviewed the two protagonists, Li Yanjie (李燕杰) and Zeng Xianbin (曾宪斌). In retrospect, it seems clear that the two were already walking different roads, which headed to two different versions of contemporary Chinese society, one neo-traditional and the other neo-liberal, both with a nationalist twist.

Li Yanjie continued and deepened his neo-traditional ethical teaching and, over the past ten years has re-emerged as a cultural critic. On his blog, he occassionaly contemplates the meaning of life in highly poetic prose that receives enthusiastic accolades from his readers.

For young people, love is a sweet word. From ancient times to the present, how many people have added to its beautiful colors and poetic imaginary! In those beautifully moving romantic poems, we can frequently feel the noble and healthy way that our Chinese people love.爱情，对于青年人来说，是一个甜蜜的字眼。古往今来，曾有多少人赋予她以美的色彩、诗的意境啊！在那些优美感人的爱情诗歌里，我们常常可以感受到我们中华民族高尚、健康的爱情格调。

Ormosia blooms in the south, but who knows how many branches this year?

Please pick several, as ormosia most symbolizes love.

红豆生南国，春来发几枝，愿君多采撷，此物最相思。

After a few more examples of romantic poetry, Li Yan Jie continues:

But how many young people today don’t know anything about this. After watching a few foreign films, they intentionally imitate those scenes of embracing and kissing, and some even are like this in public during broad daylight. 可是，现在有些青年人却不知道。看了几部外国故事片，就专门模仿那些拥抱、接吻的镜头，有的人大白天在公共场所也这样。

And then he concludes:

To maintain the purity of love, we need lofty ideals of love and to  pay attention to romantic civilization. 爱情的格调要高，还得注意恋爱文明，要保持爱情的纯洁性。

Complete post, here.

Zeng Xianbin’s neo-liberal ethics blossomed into a career as a real estate development planner and professor at the Qinghua University Professional Management Training Center ( 清华大学职业经理人培训中心).  I have been unable to find a blog under his name, but that may be because he sells video-cds of his lectures, and they aren’t cheap.

What is interesting is that Zeng Xianbin transformed his career as a journalist into that of a lecturer, much like Li Yanjie. And, like Li Yanjie, Zeng Xianbin has focused on living in the new era. However, unlike Li Yanjie, Zeng Xianbin has understood each of these changes to be an opportunity and pursued them as such. Indeed, his first opportunity was his comments on and understanding of how Shenzhen reformed public housing by gradually eliminating subsidized housing in favor of a housing market. He now provides ideas for how to use the market to provide suitable housing for low and middle income families.

Even more interestingly is that both men have shifted their ethical focus away from society and placed it firmly on the individual. Ethics has become self-expression, which may be more properly be understood as a kind of self-control (自治能力), whether in the pursuit of love or  money. Which returns me to much earlier thoughts on Confucian businessmen or 儒商。

Confucious on the bus

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At dinner, a friend tells the following story:

She was on a bus with her two year old son. Suddenly, she looked down to see him scurrying away. He had seen an empty seat and immediately darted over. This story was told with great pride because it demonstrated her son’s independence and ability-he knows what he wants, goes after it, and succeeds. The story was met with laughter and smiles-yes, an all round great kid.

My a-ha moment: my mother never told such stories about me and thus I continue to line up and wait for others even when this strategy for boarding buses has long proven ineffective.

Indeed, I sometimes fear that I all I ever do in China is un-learn everything I learned in kindergarten. According to Confucian wisdom: at thirty one establishes oneself, at forty no doubts, at fifty know the will of heaven, at sixty everything sounds good, and at seventy, follow one’s heart and make no mistakes (30而立，40而不惑，50而知天命，60而耳顺，70从心所欲而不逾矩). But what if one changed lives at thirty? Can one actually become established and start over at the same time? Or is everything delayed? Or more likely, do we never quite get it right and doubt at 40, wonder about the will of heaven at 50, still become annoyed by chatter at 60, and make all sorts of mistakes when we follow our hearts into our 70s?

Sigh. Because I also know how difficult it is to go home and get back on track to a retirement of effortless grace.

the shekou storm – translation

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Throughout the 1980s, Beijing and Shenzhen were symbols in and locations of debates about the development of post-Mao society. In many ways, Beijing symbolized and produced theories of reform and opening, while Shenzhen symbolized and actualized these theories. However, as the saying goes, plans can’t keep up with change. Roughly a year and a half before the demonstrations in Tian’anmen, the Shekou Tempest demonstrated that the government was serious in its intention to reform and open all of society, including politics as usual.

In tribute to the efforts of young people in both cities, and the sincerity of the questioning, I have translated “Questions and Answers about the Shekou Tempest (蛇口风波问答录) by Zeng Xianbin (曾宪斌) because the article reminds us how important Shenzhen was (Shekou especially) to the hopes and dreams that characterized Chinese youth during the 1980s. The article also illustrates at what cost Shenzhen’s post Southern Tour (1992) development has come; once upon a time, Shenzhen residents had the rhetorical skills and ethical compulsion to debate the social implications of going capitalist.

Ironically, many of the early Shekou gold diggers, who once believed it was possible to make money and contribute to society, now sould like old leftists – too many people have come to Shenzhen only to make money without contributing anything to society. This emphasis on working for society, rather than oneself seems to be the important thread that links Old Shenzhen to the Chinese Revolution; New Shenzhen, post 1989 Shenzhen, is something else again.

Questions and Answers about the Shekou Tempest

by Zeng Xianbin

Reporter’s note: This is a small debate that took place half a year ago and was later reported in several newspapers. Today this newspaper [People’s Daily] introduces the event and some related opinions, as well as providing space for more comerades to participate in the discussion, together exploring the question of youth political thought work.

On January 13 this year [1988], Shekou, Shenzhen organized a “Youth Education Experts and Shekou Youth Symposium”. Participants included Comerades Li Yanjie, Qu Xiao, and Peng Qiyi, three political lecturers from the Chinese Youth Thought Work Research Center and seventy Shekou youths. The media has already introduced this symposium. Even if evaluations of this discussion were mixed, nevertheless there was concensus about one point: its meaning exceeded the actual tempest itself. During the first and middle parts of July, this reporter split his time between Beijing and Shenzhen, interviewing people involved such as Li Yanjie, Qu Xiao, Peng Qingyi and Yuan Geng, asking them to answer questions about which readers are concerned. In order to insure that the reader gets objective, verifiable facts, this reporter has recorded only the questions and answers. The reader must judge the rights and wrongs of the case for herself. Continue reading →

what’s in a name? uncanny histories…

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Today, I had multiple journeys with cabbies, whose names uncannily re-inscribe a history of social movements as labor migration.

The first cabbie was named Weibin (卫宾). He was born in 1971 to parents who supported Mao’s Cultural Revolution. At 18, Weibin joined the army and was redeployed to Beijing in April, 1989, where he and other trainees were on as back-up. According to Weibin, PLA soldiers didn’t respond to any civilian actions until they received orders. Weibin said it is a cruel tragedy whenever compatriots (同胞 literally “from the same womb”) fight.

The second cabbie was named Xiaoping (小平), who denied any connection to historic figures. Xiaoping first came to Shenzehn in 1993, a year after his non-namesake’s visit jumpstarted the post-Tian’anmen Chinese boom.  Cabbie Xiaoping left Shenzhen after 6 months to work with hometown friends in Xiamen. He returned to Shenzhen two years ago, but can’t find any of his earlier haunts; it is not the same city.

June 7 update: John Ford discusses the relationship between labor and 1989 more concretely, here, reminding us that the past twenty years have been about keeping labor in its place, even when people move around.

In a related post, Lyn Jeffrey neatly summerizes the different challenges that unemployed students and workers/migrants (might) pose to the government.

(Yes, in an internet world, I now read newspapers and blogs  like I watch television – I show up at a site (or a series), browse around, and follow interesting links, rather than reading today’s newspaper or watching a show on the day it was broadcast/rerun…)

玉历宝钞：return of the repressed, reworked for the current age

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old museum entrance

Originally uploaded by maryannodonnell

Recently I have noticed that buddhist iconography is seeping into local shrines, which have been growing stronger this past decade. At the Daxin Tianhou Temple, for example, Guanyin (boddhisattva of compassion, but also the Goddess of conception) and 天花娘娘 (Tiānhuā niángniáng the Goddess of pox -cow, small, and vaccines thereof, who also heals disease in general and is somehow related to conception) have joined Tianhou on the alter. Also, popoular Buddhist texts and sutras are being distributed in local shrines and temples. In fact, the Shenzhen Hongfa Temple in Fairy Park is actively publishing and presumably delivering these tracts. Other sutras are published by very local printers, whose addresses include place markers such as “side alley”. Continue reading →

the gift of ruins

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doubly noted

Originally uploaded by maryannodonnell

Friend Frank Meinshausen has stopped by on his ’round the world journey. We first met Frank four years ago, when he translated Hope (Chinese > German) for a staged reading at the Schaubuhne, Berlin.

Yesterday, we walked through Zhongshan Park, one of my favorite Shenzhen greenspaces.  At the center of the park are the ruins of the former Ming Dynasty city wall that once enclosed the County Seat of Xin’an County, the adminstrative predessor to Baoan County, which in turn predated Shenzhen Municipality.

So obscure and uncared for is the ruined wall that vines have overgrown the first stone marker and a second has been placed at the base of a tiled staircase, which rises sharply and ends as suddenly as it began. Sundry trails emerge from the park and disappear into the undergrowth, connecting the Ming Dynasty to the rising city of Shenzhen. We walked the narrow path, which traced the boundary of a world that has become as elusive as crumbling fistful of dry earth. We climbed the molding, vaguely imperial concrete viewing platform that abruptly interrupted our steps. We listened to birdsong and inhaled the fragrence of magnolia.

Further flights of romatic fancy, here.

great dividers

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Yesterday, a colleague handed me a photocopy of a recent South China Morning Post Post Magazine article “Pass Masters” by Simon Parry. Unfortunately, the photocopy didn’t have the publication date and I haven’t been able to find an online link to the article. I apologize for responding without proper citation. If anyone does have the link, please let me know.

Uncontextualized translation seems to be one of the great dividers between Chinese and English readers of news both virtual and printed. At the very least, uncontextualized translation seems to add fuel to stereotypical fires, such as “China can’t be trusted”. Reporters often translate “words” in order to explain a situation. However, rarely to they remind readers that the histories and cultural schemes in which the orignal words operate are different from those in which the translation operates.

For example, in his expose Pass Masters, Simon Parry uses “shooter” to translate 枪手. Thus:

Stand-in candidates, known as “shooters”, claim to be able to exploit loopholes in a globally respected examination system to help students with weak English skills get the qualification the need, along with a home-country degree, to secure university places.

Testimony suggests IELTS exams are being infiltrated by shooters on a nationwide scale, potentially earning places in overseas universities at the expense of properly qualified students.

A speaker of American English, I understand Parry’s use of “shooter” to refer to a vague, kind of random criminal. His usage also inflames a sense of unscrupulous goings on in China and that these nefarious dealings pose a threat to British education and by extension Western civilization as we know it.

However, a better translation of 枪手 would be “hired gun”, which points to the specificity of what is happening. And this is precisely where and why contextualized translation becomes necessary: in Mandarin a 枪手 is anyone hired to write something for another person. Thus, 枪手 also translates as “ghostwriter”, a respectable career in English-speaking worlds. Continue reading →

i’m just a symptom of the moral decay…

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If I didn’t realize it in college, when I happily sang The Sinking Feeling by The The, I know it now – I’m just a symptom of the moral decay, that’s gnawing at the heart of the country…

My interlocutor explained that of the three ways to be unfilial, not having children was the worst (不孝有三，无后为大).

I laughed. He turned serious, “This is what’s wrong with foreigners. You have no sense of responsibility.”

I admitted that I didn’t want to raise a child and pointly asked, “Does China really need more people (中国真缺人吗)?”

He counterpointed that, “Every family needs their own (每个家庭都缺自己的).”

I laughed again.

He went on to explain that I had failed to continue my family line. Chinese abroad and at home have geneaologies that clearly mark generational differences. For thousands of years, each generation has followed the next. He himself had two children, three grandchildren, and hoped to hold a fourth.

I congratulated him on his happiness (幸福).

He nodded soberly and encouraged me to reconsider, “Maybe your mother-in-law can take care of the child and you can continue your carefree [and irresponsible] life.”

This truly is an argument I didn’t know I was in and can’t win anyway.

starter teapot

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starter teapot

Originally uploaded by maryannodonnell

72 hours into the rain, rain go away and I am taking pictures of the starter teapot that Xiao Chen recommended, rather than go outside.

Xiao Chen had told me that if I “raise/nurture (养-yang)” a teapot then I will develop affection for it (发展感情). Even if it’s a relatively cheap teapot, like a 20 rmb machine producedteapot or a 180 rmb handmade starter (pictured), the act of caring for the teapot will become affection for it. Lo and behold, it’s true.  A week into the process and I’m considering naming my teapot, Terrance T. Pot, or something equally ridiculous.

To make my tea, I first rinse Terrance with hot water, then add the leaves, which I wash twice, before I pour myself a cup of fragrent pu’er tea. I don’t discard the rinse water, but pour it over Terrance so that it will become 润 (run), a word which may be translated as moist, or smooth, but might be usefully thought of as “flush” as  run also describes the characteristics of well-cared for skin. With each rinsing, Terrance’s color subtly changes and I find myself fascinated by the new colors and different textures; I even note the gradual change in temperature, from too hot to touch to cool smoothness.

This long weekend of intense communion with my teapot and I now understand how is it possible to develop feelings for an online pet – just check in with it every now and again and 养 it. In fact, it is also possible to buy various clay “pets” for your tea set. To yang a tea-pet, give it frequent tea-baths, much as you would a beloved teapot.

Throughout Shenzhen, many have hobbies that are, in fact, yang-ing an inanimate object. I have friends who take care of jade objects by frequently handling them; the oil on their skin nurishes the jade, which like a teapot also becomes run through care.  Others prefer to yang a living creature – a plant, a pet, or even a mistress.

What and how one yang-s is culturally coded and recognized; it is a way of creating an identity. Cultivated people yang things like teapots, jade, potted plants, and tropical fish. Many spoil dogs of various kinds, giving them names reminicent of childrens’ nicknames, Precious and Treasure and Baby. Others yang projects and relationships. Signicantly, the number of mistresses that a man can yang is a symbol of his ability (能力).

There are, of course, deeper implications – caring for a goldfish, or your house, or small patch of earth will lead to love for your goldfish, your home, and your world. Parents, of course, yang their children, who in turn will yang their parents in old age. I believe that this is precisely where 玩儿 (wan’er/playing) seems to diverge from yang. Wan’er is just for fun. In fact, it’s possible to say 养着玩儿 or “nurishing for fun”. In this sense, a person or an object – like a teapot – is just a plaything.