zimatravels

This is a continuation of the last two posts where I, in 1992, had a conversation with Mary Gaunt, who wrote a book called  A Woman in China, published in 1914.  We are comparing our observations on travel in China.

Mary:  “It marked a wonderful stride in Chinese feeling that a Chinese should come to the assistance of a foreigner in distress.”

Me:  The first time I knew I was being cheated by a street vendor was the look of triumph on his face and the laughter of the crowd that had gathered to watch our transaction.  And Richard, Russell, and Bill explained to me once that a watermelon vendor had chastised them for not helping him to cheat me.  He told them he expected their help as Chinese to be on his side.  But then I remember a woman who stopped by while I was negotiating for some fruit.  Even though I couldn’t understand her words to the vendor, it was clear that she told the vendor not to charge me more than a Chinese person.  Other pedicab drivers In Jiaxin also told one of their own that he had overcharged me and pressured him to give me back some money.

Mary:  “But since the interpreter knew even less English than Tuan, whom I had left outside, there was really little else to do but smile and look pleasant.”

Me:  Smiling and looking pleasant is often the only option in a country where you are reduced to an illiterate deaf mute.  Being speechless in a different country is a humbling experience indeed.

Mary:  “In truth, the civilization of China is still so much like that of Babylon and Ninevah, that it is best for the poor man, if he can, to efface himself.  He does not pray for rights as yet.  He only prays that he may slip through life unnoticed, that he may not come in contact with the powers that rule him, for no matter who is right or wrong, bitter experience has taught him that he will suffer.”

Me:  My friends have told me of a Chinese saying that the nail that stands above the others is the first to get hit by the hammer.  So, it is still true today that they don’t want to be noticed too much.  Yet, there is something else stirring in the minds of Chinese people of today.  The educated have been awakened by what they’ve learned of the world.  For peasants even in the remotest villages, the television has brought knowledge of other worlds to them.

Mary:  “Today, the spirit of the West is breathing over her and she responds a little, ever so little, and murmurs of change, yet she remains the same at heart as she has been through the ages.”

Me:  China is a vast country of over a billion people whose history spans thousands of years.  I cannot comprehend these numbers in any meaningful way.  How fast can a behemoth change?  What parts of its culture should be kept and which parts thrown away?  Are the western ways better?

I cannot guess China’s immediate or distant future.  Part of the fascination for me is being here watching what happens and somehow being a part of it all.

Mary:  “One thing seems certain, between us Westerners and the Chinese, is a great gulf fixed.  We look across and sometimes we wonder, and sometimes we pity, and sometimes we admire, but we cannot understand.”

Me:  I do not understand the bond that has grown between me and China, between me and my Chinese friends.  Yet I know it is there because I feel it strongly.

Mary:  “…and again I questioned the curious fate that sent me wandering uncomfortably around the world, and sometimes actually — yes actually getting enjoyment out of it.”

Me:  I just think of it as a very special magic that has captured me under its spell.

This is a continuation of the previous post.
Mary:  “The average Chinese mind is essentially orderly, and never dreams of questioning rules…their faces are impassive, smiling with a surface smile that gives no indication of the feelings behind.”

Me:  Events in China between your visit and mine have held much sadness and repression of both thinking and action, but these observations are as true today as they appeared to you in 1914.  The inscrutability of the Chinese must be attributable to their culture more than their politics.

Mary:  “Squeeze seems to be the accepted fact in China.”

Me:  Bribery and corruption certainly remain in China.  Proper “connections” can make or break one’s life.  My friends have told me that guanxi is interwoven into the very fabric of life in China, much like a sweater that would unravel without it.  They may not like the system, but they can imagine no other.

Mary:  “The foreigner in China is divided into two camps.  He is either missionary or he is anti-missionary.  Both sides are keen on the matter…I began to think and to say that missionary enterprise, which I had always thought should turn its attention to its own people, was at least justified in this land of China where no provision was made for the sick and afflicted, and where charity is unknown.”

Me:  You would be surprised to know that all the missionaries were kicked out of China by the communist government.  This did not mean, however, that the sick and disabled have been cared for by anyone else.  Train stations are filled with unfortunates who stick the stump of their arm into your face to beg for money.  Painfully thin children stick out bowls to you as a way to tell you they are hungry.

My friends assure me that begging is organized and big business, but my western eyes see mostly desperation on these faces.  Are children really intentionally maimed by their parents to evoke more sympathy for begging?  Perhaps so.

Missionaries are sneaking back into China in any guise they can.  Their goal is more conversion to Christianity than helping the poor.  Deprived by the government of their Buddhist rituals, the Chinese of today seem starved for some sense of spirituality.  Some of my students have asked me about god.  As China opens its doors more and more, many religious groups are poised to jump in and fill the spiritual void.  In Macau, there is a large group of the Baha’i faith encouraging converts.  I even met a couple of Messianic Jews assigned to infiltrate China and quietly introduce their religion.

I’m sorry to say that missionaries will once again have their day in modern China.

Mary:  “…and when I inspected the room offered for my accommodation, I only wished drearily that there had been no room in this particular inn, and that I might have slept out in the open…When I smelled the smell of the rooms, rank and abominable, and reeking of human occupancy, I envied my mules sleeping outside.  The Chinese, as a rule, have not much use of fresh air.  They all bear a strong resemblance to one another, the rooms of these Chinese inns.”

Me:  Although probably not as bad as where you stayed, the sameness and dreariness of the cheap hotels I stay in can get rather depressing.  The carpets are always stained.  Nothing seems truly clean.  Rarely do things like toilets, showers, lights work properly.  And the room, sheets, pillows — absolutely everything reeks of cigarette smoke from many former occupants.  They are places to be endured rather than enjoyed.

To be continued…