For the May and June issues, I searched for the answer to why the Chinese care so much about the Expo and how attitudes towards sex evolved in Shanghai. Here are the links to the articles if you are interested:

1. What the Expo means to locals

2. Let’s not talk about sex, baby…

I must say that writing about sexual attitudes started out challenging. My dear editor JFK Miller hoped that I could write about it to celebrate the magazine’s list of sexiest people in Shanghai. But I struggled with the angle…until I walked past a park which brought back memories. You will see what I mean after reading the article.

Last week, news that CSRC (China Securities Regulatory Commission) has designed a series of initiatives to encourage farmers to invest in the stock market stirred up a fierce debate in China. (Currently, only urban residents are allowed to buy stocks in China.) The proposed policy met ferocious opposition from the public and experts alike. They see it as a ploy to cheat China’s 900 million farmers into putting their life savings into China’s notoriously volatile, ill-regulated and nontransparent stock market. In various online surveys, the majority of urban investors blankly said that China’s farmers lack basic financial and investment knowledge to discern which stocks to buy and whether they should invest in the first place. The concern is definitely legitimate and reflects the true condition of rural-urban disparity in China. But whether farmers should be allowed to buy stocks also has a human rights side to it. Most of China’s public policies treat farmers and city residents differently. But as the country tries to eliminate these differences and extend welfare to all, especially the farmers, shouldn’t the stock market follow the suit of health care and education?

But on the other hand, urban investors’ opposition is not unfounded. A closer look at China’s stock market and Chinese investors’ characteristics would suggest a more nuanced view. Andy Xie, former Morgan Stanley chief Asia-Pacific economist, now independent economist best known for his repeated warnings against China’s overheated economy is a good resource on the topic. He once described China’s economy as a “giant Ponzi scheme”. There is a lot of truth in his view. There are currently around 120 million registered individual investors in China. It is an extremely fragmented group that spans over all adult age groups and professions. The majority of these investors trade stocks on their own, not through a fund. Nor are they value investors. Most people buy and sell stocks so frequently that investing in the stock market is called “炒股票” in Chinese (literally meaning “stir fry stocks”, referring to the fast action.) Given the insufficiency in the market and weak corporate governance, China’s investors are extremely vulnerable to market volatility and their own speculative action. Many people base their investment decisions on “insider information”, which is usually fake. The same market, same investment culture and style applied to China’s farmers, it is scary to imagine the consequence. Thus, it’s a relief when China’s Securities and Regulatory Commission came out to announce that it has no plan to encourage farmers to trade stocks.

A few days ago, a rumor that the Shanghai Public Security Bureau would impose curfew on foreigners during the Expo sent shockwaves among expats and bar owners in Shanghai. According to the article on local blog Shanghaiist, foreigners would not be allowed outside past 11 pm. The information was widely circulated on the web. People were cursing with disbelief and bitter sarcasm. Then the story took an 180 degree turn when a spokesperson for the Shanghai PSB held a press conference to quash the rumor. He said that no curfew would be imposed on foreigners during  the Expo and that Shanghai would not single out any particular group as an administrative measure. He said that such a measure would be against the very essence of the World Expo.

That’s probably the most postmodern and refreshing thing ever coming out of a Public Security Bureau official. Of course, China still regularly singles out particular groups of people as a measure to exercise control. And it does so unabashedly most of the time. That’s what makes the annoucement a notable sign of progress. But I hope there would be a day when sober and rational approach to policy making would not even be noticed because it was the norm.

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.

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.

As some might know, English names chosen by Chinese often range from weird to wacky. Over the years, I have known several girls named ‘Kinki’, men ‘Sky’ and even a ‘Boot’. They are young cosmopolitan Chinese who want to express personality and individuality through their English names. But they must have a very misconstrued view of English names. I suspect many see it as a name rebirth of the ‘tribal’ names they were first given by their English teachers, most of who go through a list of top 20 boys’ and girls’ names. That’s how I got my name ‘Jenny’. I have thought about switching to names like ‘Chloe’ or ‘Valaria’. But I would have a new favorite name once every month that I was even confusing myself.

I wonder if there is any implication for foreigners choosing a Chinese name. (Stick with transliterations?) I have an ultra-hip friend from Brooklyn whose Chinese name is 张明/Zhang1 Ming2, which could not be a more authentic and average Chinese name. But it was too Chinese of a name for him.

Oh, speaking of weird English names, my little nephew is named ‘Navy’ (given by his mother to honor our grandfather who served in the Chinese Navy.) Ah, maybe there is a personal story behind every weird name.

Additional thoughts: it dawned on me why so many Chinese have weird English names (and why some foreigners have funny Chinese names). It’s because we sometimes lack the cultural awareness and references to interpret names. So the nuances get lost in the process. Someone named ‘Cridge’ is most likely unconscious of how awkward the name is. And these subtleties   take time and sometimes being in a foreign country to develop. So I guess the best way to pick a name is to ask at least 5 native speakers.

Out of the 4 gold medals that China has won in the Vancouver Winter Olympics so far, only half of a gold was won by a male athlete, Zhao Hongbo in pairs figure skating. Are the men having a bad run at these games? Actually, it has been like this for as long as many Chinese can remember. There is even a term which describes the phenomenon, ‘阴盛阳衰’(yin1sheng4yang2shuai1), which means rise of the women, decline of the men. (Note that the phrase uses the Yin/Yang concept. Yin refers to the female, Yang male.)

But why? A Chinese curling commentator had this to say when he tried to explain why the Chinese women’s team is in the semifinal, won the 2009 World Championship while the men struggled to qualify for the Olympics. The same goes for a lot of other sports, e.g. speed skating, soccer, tennis, swimming, etc. His explanation is that when China started to train for curling 5 years ago, men’s game was a lot more developed in its complexity than the women’s game. So it was harder for the Chinese men to match their competitors than for the women. That created a vicious cycle where the men always did poorly, resulting in scant chances to compete in world-class events whereas the women kept building on their success to refine their game. I don’t know how strong the argument is. After all, in their own gender group, I am sure it wasn’t easy for the women to catch up with the competitors.

Some think the imbalance is partly caused by physique. The difference between the build of a Chinese man and a Western man is generally greater than that between women. That’s why Chinese men are weaker than women in sports that rely more on physique, speed and stamina. I guess some of it is true. Simply by looking at the people in the ChinesePod office, the Chinese girls are not so different from the Western girls whereas Chinese men are at least 2 sizes smaller than Western men.

So it seems Chinese male athletes are disadvantaged, excluding things like table tennis and badminton. But once in a blue moon we are blessed with a guy like Yao Ming to tip the balance back.

The two weeks leading up to Chinese New Year are marked by excessive feasting and drinking between colleagues and friends in China. It is an important social duty that puts one’s drinking ability into serious test. I was at such a dinner recently where a friend was barely holding his liquor, but insisted on drinking until he collapsed. He even proudly announced that his body can collapse, but his dignity can’t. This is the essence of China’s drinking culture.

Destructive drinking isn’t really a college thing here as it is an indispensable social ritual among mature, grown up men. They drink not for the thrill of getting wasted, but to show that they are trustworthy and upright. Yes, drinking excessively is a respectable quality here. We have this word 酒品/jiu3pin3, which combines the word for alcohol/酒/jiu3 and the word for personal integrity/人品/ren2pin3. The result is a concept which glorifies drinking and associates it with one’s dignity.

Business dinners in China are the most prominent display of our die-hard drinking culture. Even if you can’t drink, you need to drink to give your business partner face and respect, and also to show him that you are honest and trustworthy by putting your life on the line and drinking more than you are capable of. It’s not uncommon to find people whose entire career is built on their ability to drink. But of course not everyone in China abides by the same rule. The drinking culture in Shanghai for example is a lot more moderate. But that’s also why people from Shanghai are often the subject of ridicule at dinner tables.

In my humble observation, this might pan out to be an crucial event that could shape China’s history by awakening its young, fledgling civil society. It is fair to say that Google’s users in China are the most cosmopolitan and enlightened people in the country.

• The majority of them are in their 20′s to 30′s, grew up in relative stability and now enjoying the opportunities and wealth that the new resurgent China has brought them.
• Many have gone abroad to study or have had a fair amount of international exposure. I, and many many of my colleagues and friends belong to this bunch.
• We want to believe that our government would one day realize its strategies have to change in the 21st century even when it has repeatedly made authoritarian and outdated decisions with regards to the web and many other issues. We might even have fervently defended our government when it is criticized or ‘attacked’.
• Many of us are ambivalent at best about issues like free/speech, human/rights and censorship, because we don’t know going against the establishment would be the best way to bring about change in China. And frankly, many of us are disengaged from politics because we don’t have the courage to pay the price.
• Many of us are not activists of any cause.

But today, a company who has brought us a fresh way of thinking and outstanding services is forced to pull out from China. Unlike, to be honest, the detachment and ‘how we go again’ sentiment we feel when people are shouting ‘free XXX’, we actually feel a personal stake in it. It has hit us harder than any prior incidents which have also exposed the deficiencies and backward thinking of a country which doesn’t need to behave this way.  Google is on the right side of history. I am bringing flowers to them.

I spent the better part of my past Saturday sitting in the waiting room of a renowned plastic surgery clinic in Shanghai, the No. 9 People’s Hospital (the name certainly doesn’t inspire glamor.) It also turned out to be a first-hand look into the pursuit of beauty and youth in China.

Oh, what work did I have done? An ear job. That’s right. My right earlobe was torn apart by the earring I was wearing. For a week or so, I could perform a gross human trick with my split earlobe. So on the weekend, I went to the hospital to have it stitched together.

Business was certainly booming for plastic surgeons. I went to the clinic at 9:30 in the morning and received my operation at 5:30 pm. As frustrating as the wait was, it was a widely novel and informative experience.  Here are my observations:

1. Most popular form of plastic surgery in China: an even divide between all-time favorite double eyelid operation (双眼皮/shuang1yan3pi2) and new comer face-slimming injection (瘦脸针/shou4lian3zhen1).(Note, many Asians are born with single eye lid, but double eye lids are considered beautiful. We are also obsessed with a small face. My take is that Asian faces tend to be flatter (hence bigger). I don’t know what’s ugly about that, but there is an industry dedicated to making one’s face smaller, everything from lotion to plastic surgery).

2. The consumers: girls in their 20′s top the list. The aforementioned operations were monopolized by these girls. There were literally 5 girls coming in for one of those treatment every hour.

3. The dandy (middle-aged) Shanghai men: they certainly live up to the reputation. There were 2 of them sitting in the waiting room both getting an eye bag removal operation. One man said to the other, ‘I am also getting a double eyelid job’. The other said, ‘these eye bags started to show up last week. They seriously bother me.’

4. Privacy: we observe collective privacy in China, i.e. extends to all who seek similar kind of treatment. While in the waiting room, everyone was asking everyone else what kind of work they were getting done, and how much it cost. The long waiting time and auto magazines from 2007 didn’t help either. You had nothing to do but to small talk.

5. Price: expensive by Chinese standards, but not stopping anyone. My ear job cost RMB2600 ($400).  Double eyelid and face-slimming were about the same price. Nose job is around ¥4000. Must be a wild bargain compared to the prices in the U.S. and Europe. Medical tourism anyone?

6. Outcome: my ear is still covered in band-aide and sponge. And the people who went for operations came out with faces covered except for the girls who were getting face-slimming injections. But those didn’t show immediate effect according to the doctor. We shall see.