These past few days, I have been thinking about new forms of Shen Kong integration. Shen Kong (深港) is an abbreviation of Shenzhen-Hong Kong, which is frequently used as an adjective, but may also refer to the two city area.In fact, these past few years, Shen Kong collaborations have included: a 24-7 border crossing, linking the subway systems of the two cities, loosening the travel restrictions on Shenzhen residents for visiting Hong Kong, the architecture biennial, and planning the Qianhai Cooperation Zone and the Lok Ma Chau Loop. In this post, I give a brief contextualization of Shen Kong history in order to explore how power balances have been shifting in the Pearl River Delta since 1980. Continue reading
Tag Archives: exegesis
Life lessons
Chinese politics confound me because they seem complicated and redundant. Fortunately, text messages simplify the problem. Of interest is the way that “family” operates as a metaphor to explain and justify power relationships. Actual job descriptions follow translation:
小姑娘看报，问妈妈：什么是党委，妈妈：党委就是你爸，整天不干活还老骂人。小姑娘又问：政府呢？妈妈：政府就是你妈，整天干活还被你爸骂。人大呢？人大就是你爷爷，名义是一家之主，但整天提着个鸟笼子，啥事不管。小姑娘又问：政协呢？妈妈：政协就是你奶奶，整天叨唠，但没人听她的。小姑娘还问：什么是团委？妈妈：团委就是你哥，整天在外瞎折腾，啥忙都帮不了，小姑娘最后问：什么是纪委？妈妈：纪委就是你，名义上是监督父母的，但是吃父母的，穿父母的，受父母领导，关键是还整天问这问那。
Reading the newspaper, a little girl asked her mother, “What’s the Party Committee?”
Mom answered, “The Party Committee is your father, who doesn’t do anything all day but yell at people.”
The little girl had another question, “What’s government?”
Mom answered, “Government is your mother, who works all day and still gets yelled at by your father.” Continue reading
capitalist crises, news induced ADD, and making sense of the world
I’m reading Bateson reading Margaret Mead:
Dr. Mead’s contribution consists in this—that she, fortified by comparative study of other cultures, has been able to transcend the habits of thought current in her own culture and has been able to say virtually this: “Before we apply social science to our own national affairs, we must re-examine and change our habits of thought on the subject of means and ends. We have learnt, in our cultural setting, to classify behavior into `means’ and `ends’ and if we go on defining ends as separate from means and apply the social sciences as crudely instrumental means, using the recipes of science to manipulate people, we shall arrive at a totalitarian rather than a democratic system of life.” The solution which she offers is that we look for the “direction,” and “values” implicit in the means, rather than looking ahead to a blueprinted goal and thinking of this goal as justifying or not justifying manipulative means. We have to find the value of a planned act implicit in and simultaneous with the act itself, not separate from it in the sense that the act would derive its value from reference to a future end or goal. Dr. Mead’s paper is, in fact, not a direct preachment about ends and means; she does not say that ends either do or do not justify the means. She is talking not directly about ends and means, but about the way we tend to think about ways and means, and about the dangers inherent in our habit of thought.
Lovely.
And on to thoughts inspired by the ever relevant Steps to an Ecology of Mind.
Roughly nine months ago, Shenzhen news media reported on the quicksand building incident (楼陷陷事件) and then a month later on the Foxcomm Suicides (富士康跳楼事件). Character by character, 楼陷陷 means “building trap trap,” however I’ve translated as “quicksand buildings” because the term referred to buildings that were literally sinking into reclaimed land in Houhai, Qianhai, and the Baoan Center District. At the time, both incidents received much Shenzhen press, although Foxcomm ultimately eclisped quicksand, both in Chinese and English. Indeed, I haven’t noticed any English press on the quicksand building incident and would appreciate links and/or references.
There are many possible explanations for the focus on Foxcomm rather than quicksand. Continue reading
special is as special does
The new Qianhai Bay Shenzhen Hong Kong Modern Service Cooperative Zone (前海深港现代服务业合作区), which has been billed as “the Special Zone’s Special Zone (特区的特区)” illustrates the principal that in Shenzhen, the character “special (特)” is often most usefully translated as “privileged”.
As yet, the Shen Kong Zone does not exist; it will be created through reclaiming coastal land along the Pearl River Delta. However, it has been planned, approved, and contracts signed. Not unexpectedly, as the City revs up for a prosperous Year of the Rabbit, Qianhai has become a media focus.
What’s special about the new zone? One, it will be administered under Hong Kong law by a joint committee of Shenzhen and Hong Kong representatives and is thus, the latest incarnation of the “One Country, Two Systems” policy. Two, in order to build the New Zone, the Eastern Coast of the Pearl River will be narrowed and the actual river bed deepened in order to serve even larger and more ships. Three, like Guangming and Pingshan New Districts, Qianhai is one of the few areas in the city with Government mandated competitive advantage.
Clearly, Shenzhen and Hong Kong are cooperating in order to create one of the largest and most comprehensive service ports in the world. The media is gushing about all the money that this project will bring to the two cities specifically and the Delta more generally. However, as development rights have already been allocated, the money that will be earned there has already been divvied up and so what we’re left with is a promise that trickle down economics might kick in at some point.
Sigh.
watching the SZ evening news in Tianjin
I have been watching the Tianjin evening news, but last night had the chance to watch the SZ evening news (via SZ satellite television) and the differences between program content were as interesting as the similarities. Impressions below. Continue reading
Shenzhen’s third language…
If the languages that appear on ATM machines are any indication of how a society imagines its others, what are we to make of the fact that Arabic has appeared on some newly installed Shenzhen ATM machines?
I’d been thinking that it might have had something to do with the fact that roughly 8 months ago, China became the biggest importer of Saudi oil. But maybe not. According to non-random conversations with several friends (1) East Asian foreigners (Korean, Japanese, the other Chinas) are expected to read Chinese, and (2) Euro-descended foreigners are expected to speak English, after all the meaning of “外语 (outside language)” in everyday discourse is “English”. As in “I don’t speak 外语 (foreign language = English)”. This means that (3) Shenzhen’s third language needs to be another large, representative language of many speakers. And although Russian might have also been an interesting choice, it is a Euro-language and therefore counts as “English”. Moreover, given the way colonialism has reworked continental lingua francas , most peoples now speak some variant of a Euro-language (English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, and other variants of “English”), leaving Arabic a clear favorite for Shenzhen’s third language and providing us with an interesting reworking of “three worlds” theory.
Thoughts?
new year’s flowers
Flower streets are one of my favorite Guangdong New Year’s traditions. In the day’s leading up to those beautiful streets, moreover, local flower shops begin to sell intwined bamboo, mandarin orange trees, and narcissus, which if cultivated properly bloom for Spring Festival. The mandarin word for narcissus is “Water Immortal Flower (水仙花)”. The convergence of English and Chinese names for a variation of daffodil shows up an interesting divergence in interpretation. Both focus on the fact that narcissi bloom in shallow water. However, in English, Narcissus was a self-absorbed young man, who rejected Echo’s love and died staring at his reflection in the water. In Mandarin, the flower is an immortal, clearly a wonderful way of welcoming the New Year.
Point du jour is that I learned both the English and the Chinese rather late in life. As a child of the Jersey suburbs, I learned the names of topiary, a few trees, and grass, but gardens and wilderness and oceans and rivers were not part of my world. Or rather, my understanding of these areas was limited to how I interacted with them – hiking in the Pine Barrens, swimming at the Shore, and planting weeping willows. In other words, if learning names reflects the ways through which we come to inhabit the myths and traditions that constitute our worlds, then not learning the names of plants and animals tells us a great deal about our distance from earth. I grew up in a beautiful area, but it was clearly beautiful in the sense of conformed to human desire of what the world should be rather than what it may or may not be.
Yesterday I bought two bulbs of narcissi and placed them on my desk. Today I am wondering about the nature of self-absorption.
more gossip about daomei
Daomei, of the bagua fiasco had a part in “Eye”. And played it well. Daomei is a wonderful actor and sinks himself into roles with enviable enthusiasm.
One of Daomei’s college classmates works in Guangzhou. He heard from a friend that “Eye” was a hit and decided to drive to Shenzhen for the show. He told the director to arrange to have Daomei stand center stage during curtain call so that he could present Daomei with the biggest possible bouquet. All was arranged and Daomei took his bows center stage. However, as the other actors received bouquets and hugs, or went into the audience to give gifts to their parents, Classmate did not appear.
A restless, empty-handed Daomei called out, “Classmate, where’s my bouquet?”
Classmate then slunk on to stage and stage-whisphered explained, “Ai ya, Older brother Dao, I drove as fast as I could, but got stuck in traffic so I didn’t have a chance to buy the bouquet. I am truly, truly sorry.”
Daomei threatened to hit Classmate with a prop, the audience laughed, and Classmate took a bow. Then the two went off drinking. Classmate redeemed himself by picking up the tab.
One would think the story ended ingloriously here. Alas, no.
The next day during make-up, Daomei heard that Classmate had approached one of the actresses and said, “Lend me your bouquet.”
The actress said, “No, this is for my mother.”
Classmate responded with, “Mothers always understand. I need this for my girlfriend or she’ll be angry. Lend it to me and you can give it to your mom after curtain call. You know how girls care about mianzi (prestige face).”
Actress humphed and said, “你真是。。。”
“你真是。。。” literally means “You truly are…”, but in conversation is used to express distain, shock, and disbelief at how low someone will go. Yes, it can be said with affection, but it is affection laced with exasperation and (sometimes) contempt.
Ai, Daomei, with friends like these…
why bad things happen
My groin muscles and Achilles tendons are tight. So tight that it is difficult for me to squat without my feet splaying and my back hunching. According to my yoga teacher, this is a situation of 活该 (serves you right) because quote unquote: you americans don’t use squat toilets.
Hmmm.
Anyway, the point of this post is the cultural perspective that make 活该 and serves you right different, even though they are used in overlapping situations.
活该 literally means “live – should be”. In other words, how you live has created this situation irrespective whether or not you have chosen this lifestyle. In contrast, serves you right pivots on the idea of “just rewards or punishment” for the choices one has made. Thus, my yoga instructor says that not using squat toilets has resulted in me having tight groin muscles and Achilles tendons – live this way and this should happen, indeed. In contrast, I’d be more likely to explain my general lack of flexibility to the fact that I don’t stretch every day. In other words, serves me right would indicate my decision not stretch caused my lack of flexibility.
活该 and serves you right both work to describe my condition, but the explanations used focus on different aspects of the situation – one the environment, the other my agency within that environment. 活该 includes the habits we acquire simply from hanging about in a particular environment. In contrast, serves you right seems to function much more on the level of poetic justice for bad choices.
So yes, I’m now actively choosing to use squat toilets and seeing it as an opportunity stretch my groin muscles and achilles tendons. Serves me right, indeed.
What’s love got to do with it? Speculations about what it means to say 我爱你 (in Shenzhen)
I am an American woman married to a Chinese man. I have lived in Shenzhen for many, many years. Consequently, I have heard many, many stories about cross-cultural romance – some successful, some not, others vaguely disturbing.
The other day, a good friend – Euro-American man because these labels mark the site of negotiation – told me that Chinese women say, “I love you,” way too soon. Creepy soon. So, I asked another good friend, Chinese woman, why it might be that my friend would go out on one or two dates with a woman and she was already willing to confess her love. My Chinese woman friend countered with her own question, “I thought that foreigners [meaning Westerners] were open about their feelings. Isn’t that true?” I then asked a Canadian born Hong Kong women what she thought it meant to say 爱 and she replied that she usually meant something leaning towards appreciation and gratitude.
Given that I like, respect, and trust these three people, I started thinking that the romantic cultural gap was even further than I had once thought (and yes, pangs of what was I actually doing when I fell in love ringing in my ears). I knew my Chinese friends often had different understandings of their place in a family because they have different understandings of what a family is. I knew that my Chinese women friends were more likely to start dating with an eye to marriage than my Western women friends.
And yet. I hadn’t stopped to think about what it might mean to say, “I love you,” in Shenzhen because that feeling has been so fundamental to how I have defined myself. Nor am I alone because one of the define features of modernity in the West has been the way that individual passion for god or a person or an ideal defines a fully human life. Consequently, I have assumed that love was not only a universal feeling, but universally important without stopping to consider that (1) it may not be universal even in the West or that (2) even if it is universal, forms of expression are certainly not.
After these conversations, I began listening to the use of 爱 in conversations and media broadcasts. I now think that 爱 means something closer to “appreciate” or “enjoy” or “desire” or “am grateful for”. More interestingly, I think 爱 allows Shenzhen Mandarin speakers to establish a site of individuality or personality. Who and what they love allows them to have something that is personal. Importantly, I also think 爱 is a much less socially important emotion (possibly because of its individualizing function) than are other sentiments, such as loyalty and trust and long-term commitment.
All this to say, I think that Shenzhen Mandarin speakers say I love you in order to create an individualized self. This self is recognized as being distinct from and often in opposition to the more important social and/or collective self. Anecdotal evidence follows.
(1) Accomplished children generally thank (in order) – their parents, teachers, classmates, and audience for supporting them to succeed, after which they add the line, “I love you all.” （我想感谢爸爸妈妈，感谢我的老师，感谢我的同学，感谢观众朋友；我都爱你们!) Given that that gratitude is hierarchically ranked and explicitly differentiated while爱 is general, this use of 爱 seems to signal that all the support excites or makes the speaker happy.
(2) One of the main ice-breaker conversations that Shenzheners enjoy is about hobbies or 爱好 – literally love-like (好 is a fourth tone noun in this phrase).
(3) 爱 is used to describe foods and activities that people enjoy – he loves to eat sweets (他很爱吃甜品); she loves to play tennis (她很爱打网球). Interestingly, this use of爱 seems in contrast to fear or 怕 as in the expression – he’s afraid to eat spicy food (他很怕吃辣的); she’s afraid to get sun tanned (她很怕晒太阳). In this context, it’s easy to see that this is not fear of boogeymen fear, but rather fear as dislike or something that challenges a sense of self.
(4) Once when my husband and I were having difficulties, I complained to a friend and told her how I intended to handle the situation. My friend responded, “It’s great that you dare to love and dare to hate (你敢爱敢恨多好).” In retrospect this use of 敢 seems to indicate the personal and marginalized aspect of爱.
(5) Likewise, I have been repeatedly told that Chinese women do not “become obsessed with passion (痴情),” but are loyal (忠) and faithful (贤).
(6) Indeed, a true friend is someone who is revealed over a long time (日久见人心), the person who is still by your side when those who love to eat and carouse with you (酒肉朋友) have gone their merry way.
To return to the question of what’s love got to do with it, clearly not as much as one such as I – western, feminist, using love to establish a life – would like to think. Hence, the “creepiness” of Chinese women who declare their “love” after several dates, when in fact all they might be saying is “I like you” and “Given the fact that I’m dating, it means I’m looking for husband material and I think you’ll due.” That said, once married, “I will be faithful and due my duty to you, my parents, your parents, my friends and yours – in short, I’ll live a socially responsible, respectable, and meaningful life.”
Now it may be that part of reform and opening China will be the increasing importance of 爱 in defining, constituting, and giving meaning to individual lives. But maybe not. And I don’t think matters because there are so many, many ways to be fully human and I’m learning to love – rather than fear – the diversity.
Shenzhen Noted 