The Art of Hinting in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, ChinesePod, cultural differences, culture,Tags: , ,
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The Chinese have mastered the art of meaning one thing when saying another. You need to read between and behind the lines to know what they really mean. I share a few classic examples in this ChinesePod blog post to help decipher the code in the message.

The Art of Grandparenting in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, parenting, society, tradition,Tags: , , ,
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Those with Chinese in-laws will instantaneously know what the title of the post means. Close family ties are a key feature of Chinese culture. Most Chinese parents will gasp at the idea of their kids moving out unless they relocate to a different place. And they tend to stay very involved in their children’s lives throughout their existence. The one-child policy brings the old tradition to a new height as parental attention is concentrated onto one kid. And it carries on even when the child is married, and especially after a grand child is born. The attention multiplies and shifts to the precious new one.

In China, grandparents have increasingly become primary caretakers of their grandchildren. Traditional family values provide the underlying basis. But some recent social and demographic developments have also greatly contributed to the situation. One major reason is that most Chinese women go back to work after having a child, leaving a void at home. A lot of middle class parents hire a full time nanny to take care of the baby while they work. I am included in this group. However, there are many more parents who don’t have the resources to do so or are unwillingly to hire a stranger to be their baby’s primary caretaker. Grandparents naturally come to the rescue. And most Chinese grandparents see child rearing as a key duty of being grandparents. They are willing to perform tasks usually done by the parents.

It’s even common for Chinese kids to live with their grandparents instead of their own parents. In fact, most of my friends and relatives with young children have made such arrangements. They only take the kids home on weekends. During the week, they visit a few times. I can’t imagine spending so much time away from my kid. But that seems to be the most practical solution for many people. I think this touches on a fundamental difference between Chinese and North American culture. It’s that after a child is born, the Chinese family completely readjusts their life for the kid, though sometimes not in the kid’s best interest. Parents and grandparents tend to see care giving as the most important aspect of bringing up a child. And it’s understandable because they often have limited financial options. We are at the lowest level of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs for child raising.  But it seems even people who have means choose this approach as well. Taking my cousin for example, he and his wife left their daughter under his parents’ care since she was born because both had to work to provide for the family. But as the kid grew up and their financial stability significantly improved, they continued the approach.  They chose preschool near the grandparents’ home, and now looking at elementary school nearby. Their daughter will probably spend her entire childhood living with her grandparents. And many people do the same thing. Therefore in China, parenting is in fact “grandparenting”.

A major cause of “grandparenting” is the one child policy which allows both sets of grandparents to have time and resources to care for one grand child. I was raised primarily by my parents, even though they both had to work. They asked a neighbor to look after me before I was enrolled in preschool. In their days, people did not have grandparents to rely on since they had siblings who also had children. Grandparents could not possibly care for all of them. But of course, many families back then prioritized sons and grandsons. Now the supply and demand dynamic has switched. There are abundant supply of grandparents. Two sets of grandparents often fight over who become primary caregivers. Often the ones with more financial resources and live closer to good schools win.

I often feel Chinese parents have the strongest can-do spirit. They believe that if they work hard and provide the best things for their children, they will most likely to succeed.  And most Chinese parents spend their lives trying to do so. You might think they have paid their dues but as soon as a grandchild is born, they are sucked into the old parenting cycle again.  No wonder Tiger Mom Amy Chua concludes that Chinese parents think their children owe their lives to them. Rightly so.

Maternity Confinement in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, parenting,Tags: , , , , ,
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About a month ago, I became the proud mom of a baby boy. Needless to say, it was the most magical experience of my life.

This post is however less about the warm and fuzzy feelings of a new mom. It is more like the ramblings of a woman on the verge of an emotional breakdown as the result of a unique Chinese tradition-月子/yue4zi. The term refers to a full month of confinement after giving birth. This tradition is said to have started around 2000 years ago in Han Dynasty. It must be one of the most longstanding traditions in China. It was even kept intact during the Cultural Revolution when most other Chinese traditions were denounced.

月子 has its roots in traditional Chinese medicine and is founded on the belief that labor is the most strenuous physical experience a woman goes through. Therefore, the month after labor must be used as a time to recuperate. I think many cultures would concur on this. But what makes 月子 very extreme and a candidate for superstition is its actual practice and the claim on a range of dire consequences if one does not abide by it. Now, let me list some of the things that I have to go through during my 月子:

1. NO GOING OUT. I have not taken a single step out of my house (actually my parents’ house since they insist they are better caregivers) for about a month now. I have not even gone to the balcony.

2. NO SHOWER. I definitely smell. But thank God it is winter and that I have a full time nanny who cleans me with a warm towel everyday.

3. NO HAIR WASHING. This is something that I had to fight for as I have an obsession with clean hair. So by the end of the first week, I almost got down on my knees begging my mom to let the nanny give me a wash. Now, I am granted 2 washes every week.

4. NO BRUSHING TEETH. My salvation is Listerine and cotton buds.

5. NO COLD FOOD. My mom even microwaves apples and oranges for me.

And the list goes on. So why all these extreme practices? Well, without much quantitative or qualitative data, every single Chinese would tell you that by doing any of the above, you will suffer from a related illness sometime down the road. Taking brushing teeth for an example, legend has it that it will cause gum infection and teeth ache. Why no shower? You will develop rheumatism. And you can probably guess what washing hair and eating cold food will lead to.

It is surprising how these seemingly ridiculous acts are still so religiously carried out even in today’s society and by women across demographics in China. And I have to admit that what I am going though is a much toned down version of 月子. I know many young professional Chinese women who are as hardcore as women were 1000 years ago. They would not even leave the bed. I guess the explanation is that sacrificing personal liberty and hygiene for a month is a small price to pay to prevent a debilitating future ailment.

But more importantly, the will of a Chinese mother is unyielding when it comes to 月子. My mom would not back down safeguarding her daughter’s post maternity health.  This brings me to the ultimate revelation of why this old and semi-superstitious tradition has survived and thrived in the past 2000 years: new moms who just gave birth to a new life have a new found level of respect and love for their own mothers. They know as wacky as 月子 might be, it is done out of love. So I will tell my mom in 20 years’ time that if it were not for her insistence, I would have rheumatism, infected gum and really bad migraines.

P.S. I want to thank my wonderful husband who despite being Canadian and completely foreign to the idea of 月子 showed enormous understanding, support and love.

To learn more about the 月子 tradition and related vocabulary in Chinese, listen to this lesson on ChinesePod.com.

Those Curious Chinese

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, life,Tags: , ,
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“It is said that ‘a cat has nine lives,’ yet curiosity would wear them all out,” wrote the Reverend Dr. Ebenezer Cobham Brewer in his 1898 Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. The same does not, however, seem to apply to the Shanghainese or the Chinese in general. They may only have one life, yet there are no signs of it being worn out by inquisitiveness. While curiosity is part of human nature – and what propels mankind forward – the Chinese seem more unrelentingly curious than most.

Crowds often gather in commotion over ‘chicken feather garlic skin’ (鸡毛蒜皮) a Chinese phrase which means insignificant triviality. Sometimes it’s a minor spat between two scooter riders, sometime it’s a vendor waving a big fruit knife and loudly yelling about cheap watermelons. It only takes a few people to reach critical mass to build a decent crowd. As soon as three people stop to watch something they seem to develop their own force of gravity, drawing others in.

So why the curiosity? The question warrants a complicated sociological study.  However, as a Chinese who inherited a heightened sense of curiosity, here is my take: the masses historically lacked affordable means of entertainment both in the country and the city. Most urban families didn’t even have a TV set until the late 1980s. Therefore, people have always looked for alternative sources of entertainment. Drama and fights on the street were a ready and reliable way to pass time. And perhaps more importantly, they provided people with something to talk about. Just as the social value of mass media is not really in the content but the conversations it generates, the most seasoned curious onlookers participate too by providing commentary and passing judgment. They often become mediators of the fight. Over time, this becomes a social obligation; they see themselves as community arbiters who need to be at the scene. They have elevated curiosity from a disposition to a duty.

There is also a demographic element to the curious crowd. They are usually middle-aged (especially retired), elderly or migrant workers. But I believe most Chinese are equally curious at heart, they just try to contain it so that they won’t seem nosy or appear to have nothing better to do with their lives. I myself can’t resist the temptation to briefly investigate when I see a crowd, but I always carry on with my own business and never stand there to watch.

Curiosity can be genuinely quaint, too. I was once on a flight to Singapore with a team of Chinese construction workers. Before the plane took off, one of them pulled the life jacket out from under his seat, blew it up and put it on. While the flight attendant angrily reprimanded him, I saw a man from rural China who, just like a child, was excited about his first plane trip. This is the kind of innocent curiosity that should be cherished.

America’s Silent Revolution in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, musings,Tags: , , , ,
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The title of this post should be in quotation marks as it was said by a GMAT teacher at New Oriental, China’s largest training institution. The company specializes in test prep, especially US developed tests like TOEFL, GRE and GMAT. It went from running classes in basements to being traded on the New York Stock Exchange. In China, New Oriental is like a religion which performs miracles on its students. Its test prep essentially is about gaming the exams, i.e. using strategies and tactics to help students get insanely high scores without really improving their English skills. The school does it by having teachers and students memorizing the exam questions after they took the tests, record and update them regularly, as well as having a team of exceedingly smart teachers who are exam maniacs driven by coming up with frameworks which can be used to get the right answers.  The school was sued by various US testing organizations, paid large sums in damage and forced to change how it teaches. Yet the core DNA persists and the legend lives on.

I myself recently became a student to experience the New Oriental magic. I enrolled in the GMAT class in preparation for applying to business school in a few years’ time. On a Saturday afternoon, I sat in a classroom with 150 other students who were eagerly waiting to be transformed by New Oriental. (The photo was taken in a New Oriental classroom).

The first class was GMAT reading. The 4-hour class was a good mix of test prep skills, strong personal opinions topped off with topical jokes. Speaking of jokes, New Oriental is famous for its team of ‘edutainers’ who have mastered the art of engaging students. It is even said that the school partly evaluates teachers on the number of times they make students laugh during a class. Funny as it was, what really resonated with me is the teacher’s point of the lasting effect of GMAT prep, or in his words ‘America’s silent revolution in China’. He said that to do well in GMAT, Chinese students need to reverse their ways of thinking, namely to learn to think critically. To question, to reason and to separate facts from opinions are counter-intuitive for a Chinese student. But when they are exposed to these skills as young adults, there is no going back. According to the teacher, during his 10 years at New Oriental, only 10% of students end up going to business schools in the U.S. But regardless of the path they choose, the way they see the world is changed. They are not easily fooled anymore. That’s America’s silent revolution in China.

A Chinese Take on Memory

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, learning with ChinesePod,Tags: , , , ,
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The annual Shanghai Literary Festival is a great time to see literary luminaries and engage in intellectual debates of sorts. I went to an event this past weekend featuring the famed Chinese author Su Tong whose book “Wives and Concubines” was later adapted into the iconic film “Raise the Red Lantern”.  The theme of his talk was ‘Child, Memory and Inspiration’. During the Q&A session, the audience asked questions which I though revealed quite a stark contrast between how the West and China view memory. A few people asked Su Tong what he thought of the relentless tearing down of old buildings for new urban development in China, namely how it was destroying the memory of the society. Su Tong, while lamented such insatiable speed seemed quite ambivalent as well. For him, the real issue was to know where to draw the line between casting away and destruction. It seemed he was not emotional enough about the old buildings as many hoped him to be.

So where do you draw the line? During the taxi ride home, an interconnecting web of elevated roads took me through a jungle of skyscrapers, posh condominiums and the occasional old lane houses in Shanghai. I tried to think what had been there before the flashy premium properties. My memory was limited to the fuzzy old photos of colonial mansions and propaganda pictures of slums pre-1949. At that moment, I felt maybe the real fear was that a lot of people like myself don’t even know what has been lost.

Taking the focus back on buildings, Shanghai’s cluster of historic ones lies along the Bund and in the former French Concession. They were Baroque and Art Deco style buildings built by foreign settlers but have come to symbolize Shanghai. A number of them were destroyed over the years. But a large number of the surviving ones have been preserved or put into commercial use. They make up a cosmopolitan Shanghai: glamorous, nostalgic but comforting for a local. At the other end of the spectrum are the cramped Shikumen (old lane houses). They housed the vast majority of locals in the first half of the 20th century. These houses define another side of Shanghai: delicate, convivial but petty at times. The narrow streets, stone brick constructions  make for charming photos and postcards. But the memory of living in them is less charming. Most of them have no toilet facilities. People have to use a bucket even until today. Most of those lived in them jumped at the chance of moving out when they could, although they all reminisce about the old days at some point.

So I guess for a lot of people in China, memory is something that needs to be reset, because it has not been very good for at least 200 years. Buildings are torn down, for profit, for a modern China and sometimes because no one wants to live in a place with no toilet in it.

Rust Belt Humor in China and America

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture, life,Tags: , , ,
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A few days ago, I overheard a fascinating discussion about Chinese and American sense of humor. While many concur that comparing the two are like comparing apples to oranges, there seems to be an amazing convergence, that of the Rust Belt, the Northeastern parts of both countries. They have produced the nations’ most celebrated comedians and helped shape the nation’s sense of humor. In China, the undisputed king of comedy is Zhao Benshan/赵本山 (pictured above with his disciple and sidekick) who has the noble task of entertaining the entire country on CCTV’s Spring Festival gala. He hails from a small town in China’s Rust Belt. Originally a local 二人转/errenzhuan performer ( a local comedy style that features 2 comedians performing), he exploded on the national stage with his comedy rooted in blue-collar and peasant wholesomeness but galvanized by sharp sarcasm directed at inequities in the society, a sentiment widely shared by China’s masses.

More on China’s Rust Belt. It refers to the region once known as Manchuria which now includes the provinces of Heilongjiang, Jiling and Liaoning. These places are marked by vast wilderness and punishing climate. They were also China’s heavy industry hub after the founding of the P.R.C. However, similar to the fate of America’s Rust Belt, China’s Dongbei (meaning Northeast) was in the doldrums in the early 90′s when large state owned firms underwent restructuring, throwing a large portion of the population out of work. However, the courageous people of Dongbei, with “their rustic manners and boisterous camaraderie—washed down with 120-proof grain alcohol—adapted the spirit to the 21st Century with new ways of thinking” (quote from the Nine Nations of China, the Atlantic).  And many of them turned to the grass root 二人转/errenzhuan comedy for inspiration. Song Xiaojun, China’s prominent cultural and military commentator (yes, that’s right) has said that unemployment and 二人转/errenzhuan performances peaked at the same time in Dongbei. His analysis was that comedy helped people get through the harsh times and also offered an idea for entrepreneurial attempts. Many who were blessed with the talent became amateur 二人转/errenzhuan performers, while others opened performance venues, now an important part of the region’s economy and cultural identity.

Would the same happen in America’s Rust Belt?

A Nation of Self-medicators

Jenny Zhu Posted in China, cultural differences, culture,Tags: ,
6

A few days ago, an American friend announced that he was leaving Shanghai due to a chronic stomach problem. In the midst of hugs and good wishes, Chinese friends started to eagerly offer remedies passed down from grandparents or introduce him to qigong masters who could cure all sorts of illnesses.  This got me thinking that the Chinese are firm believers of self-medicating using TCM as our knowledge reserve.

In many ways, TCM with its use of herbal medicines, everyday food items, massage and acupuncture lends itself quite well to ‘do-it-yourself’ style exploration. People frequently turn to ‘pedestrian’ remedies as an alternative source of help to cure or at least ease certain conditions. For example, in the face of a flu breakout, we turn to vinegar by putting a bowl of vinegar in open air in the house. Supposedly, vinegar helps kill virus. This doesn’t mean that people abandon professional treatment. What it means is that people here overwhelmingly supplement Western style treatment with Chinese philosophy and practice that are beneficial in the long haul. I am sure this is similar across societies with long history and civilization where people have developed an efficient system of maintaining health and well being using traditional wisdom.

Getting back to the story of my friend, what also struck me is how people gave medical advice, with full conviction and confidence that it is going to work. I on the other hand refrained myself for fear that my family remedy might do him more harm than good. Maybe I have watched too much American court room drama to think that a friendly piece of advice could turn into a potential law suit.

How Not to Get Duped in China

Jenny Zhu Posted in business, China, cultural differences, interviews,Tags: , , ,
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I am sure you have received calls from ‘financial advisers’ and emails of inheriting a fortune from a distant relative. Ever since I started to register my own business, I have received tons of calls from swindlers, making up a plethora of lies ranging from ridiculous to highly skilled. If you live in China, this unfortunately is a fact of life. I hope some of my experiences could help you be more aware.

Top 3 lies:

1. I am the local tax authority. New businesses need to receive tax training (which is true). The training is free (hook), but you need to pay for books. I will courier them to you. You pay the courier man. (ha, definitely a scam).

2. I am Google (or Baidu) ‘s sales rep. We are offering a limited time promotion to promote your site.

3. I am from the local commerce bureau. We have an orientation course for new businesses. You need to attend.

Special attention: if you use an agent to handle your registration process as many do, pay a bit more and choose a trustworthy one (although price is no indicator of integrity). I have known people whose agent disappear overnight, causing them to lose not only money but also time.

An easy way to tell if you are talking to a scammer is through phone numbers. If they are using a cell phone number, it is a scam for sure. And finally, as a rule of thumb, always always be doubtful when you receive calls from ‘authorities’. They are scams 99.9% of the time. Although I did once ignore several calls from China Telecom and end up missing the internet upgrade.

Foreign Managers in China: Real Stories of Trials, Tribulations and Triumph

Jenny Zhu Posted in business, China, cultural differences, interviews, management, Uncategorized
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The title of this post happens to be the theme of the Suixuntong interview series.  It will feature conversations with foreign managers in China who face dual challenges of management and culture.

The inspiration came from enlightening conversations in restaurants and bars where friends (and often my own bosses) speak candidly about their frustration, bewilderment and joy of being a manager in China. These real life stories tell the most down to earth experiences and carry practical and overreaching implications for fellow managers (and employees).

I have known and worked for some great foreign managers in China. They are able to build and lead effective teams because they work particularly hard to understand their staff’s perception, action and motivation shaped by the socio-cultural context. They are the ones who go beyond than just saying ‘why don’t my staff get it’. They observe, communicate and reflect to find a better approach.  I hope their stories will help you get the most out of your team in China. And I look forward to hearing your stories in the interview. Feel free to contact me  jennyzhu at suixuntong.com