Chengdon't

To paraphrase travel journalist Paul Theroux, “the Chinese have 50 different ways of laughing but few of them actually involve humour.  For example, ‘ha ha – we’re in big trouble now!’ or ‘ha ha – don’t expect me to answer that question’.  The relatively serious nature of people here has led to the incorrect assumption of some that the Chinese have no sense of humour.  There are, of course, plenty of amusement opportunities – some concern subjects that cross the global laughter barriers, others travel well across Asia but no further, while a few gags leave all but the natives scratching their heads.

One example of things that people the whole world over find funny comes in the form of good old-fashioned slapstick.  From Charlie Chaplin right through to Mr. Bean, hilarious pratfalls and footballs in the groin are as funny in Chengdu as they are in Chicago or Kolkata, and have been popular here for as long as the populace has had access to them.

Another bridge over the cultural comedy divide is smut, as demonstrated by the recent ‘grass-mud-horse’ video hysteria that hit Chinese youtube a few months back.  Pranksters put together a fake documentary and song about the mythical animal, whose name when translated into Mandarin sounds very similar to an especially unpleasant Chinese insult.

As one might expect, when more highbrow forms of jest come into play the differences in humour become more pronounced.  A good case in point can be found in Chinese Crosstalk or xiangsheng (lit. face and voice).  At first glance it seems very similar to Western stand-up comedy, with two comics onstage in front of a live crowd engaging in rapid-fire conversation, their interaction following the tried-and-tested recipe of a straight-man acting as an exasperated foil to the muddle-headed clown.

However, as David Moser points out in his essay on the decline of Crosstalk ‘No laughing matter’, there are subtle differences between the two art forms.  Crosstalk mostly features more than one person, and is always a self-contained routine with a fixed narrative or main premise. In this sense, a typical crosstalk piece resembles a scripted dialogue like Monty Python’s ‘Dead Parrot’ sketch, or the Two Ronnies ‘Four candles’ routine. There are hundreds of traditional crosstalk pieces, and although new pieces are written all the time, each new piece is performed to the original premise, leaving the performers free to add material or edit sections according their specific needs.

The western concept of sarcasm also doesn’t seem to travel well here, and the ‘lowest form of wit’ is generally not well received in social situations.  A dictionary translation of the word into Chinese comes out as fengci (讽刺), but this would probably be better interpreted as satire – lampooning petty officialdom or pouring scorn on the pretentious social elite.  The concept of sarcasm appears a little strange to some Chinese people, who just do not seem to find saying one thing and meaning another that funny.

Xiao - The Chinese for laugh

In a completely unscientific attempt to try and find out what actually made normal Chinese people laugh, I decided to ask all my Chinese colleagues to email over one Chinese joke that they thought might amuse.  The results were pretty random (and some unprintable!), and perhaps were influenced by their bi-lingual skills, but nevertheless made for interesting reading.  You can see examples below – enjoy, (and good luck and good tasty – zaijian!)

Once, there was a boy who was an onion. He cried every day.

Q: Why don’t babies need to brush their teeth?
A: Because 卑鄙无耻 (bei bi wu chi – homophone of ‘baby has no teeth’…)

George Bush: Who was the first president of the U.S?
Deng Xiao Ping: Wo xing Deng [我姓邓: My surname is Deng]
George Bush: Yes, Washington.  And what are you doing in the U.S?
Deng Xiao Ping: Xiaoping [小平]
George Bush: Ah, shopping.  Very good.  Have nice day!

Shortly after the declaration of the PRC in 1949, Premier Zhou Enlai held a press conference. A foreign journalist deliberately asked how many lavatories there were in the new PRC. “Two,” Premier Zhou answered. “One male and one female.”

Number 13  – Luo shui munchkins

Courtesy of Pop-pop Chengdon’t, here are a couple of little chaps we met up in the town of Luoshui in Northern Sichuan.

Number 12 – Freedom isn’t free…

“True freedom is freedom based upon assigned limits”.  An odd quote to have anywhere, but on the wall of our local nursery school?

There it was – the name was plain as day on the map.  I rubbed my eyes to check it wasn’t a trick of the light, but when I looked back it was still there, a small dot on the west coast labelled ‘Monkey Island’.  It’s a sadly typical British male stereotype, the ‘men and primates’ fascination.  Perhaps they appeal to the naughty little boy inside all of us?  A few birthdays ago I even organised a trip to Dorset’s magnificent ‘Monkey World’ to see our genetic ancestors in action.

From the south of Britain to the south coast of China, and a gruelling set of Chinese language exams combined with the Shanghai winter had left us looking for a break somewhere a bit warmer and slower.  In such a vast and diverse swathe of land as China the choices are endless, but until recently foreign tourists had the obstacles of language, knowledge and accommodation (among others!) to overcome before full access to the middle kingdom could be achieved.

Internal tourism in China is now a rapidly growing industry, and it is mainly geared towards the increasingly affluent Chinese middle class rather than foreign visitors.  Domestic tour companies have prospered, and in major tourist destinations flag-waving, mega-phone toting tour guides are never far away, leading around large, well-disciplined groups of Chinese holidaymakers, who seem to prefer this method to independent travel.  A friend who works in Shanghai as a tour guide complained to me that foreigners don’t tend to like sticking to their itineraries, and often wander off on their own.

One popular destination for the new breed of Chinese tourist is Hainan Island, just off the south coast of mainland China.  The Chinese often call it ‘the Hawaii of China’, because it’s an island, roughly on the same latitude as it’s American cousin and er, begins with the letter ‘H’.  The mild temperatures, air quality, seafood and reasonable prices are also factors in luring more holidaymakers to the island.  We stayed in the tourist city of Sanya on the south coast of the island – budget tourists can fly to the island’s slightly grim capital Haikou, and then get the coach three hours across the island to save a bit of cash.

One of the first things you notice upon venturing out is that all the signs are in Chinese and Russian, and the Chinese hawkers also address you in Russian, as opposed to the traditional “hello!”  I got chatting to one of the many peddlers selling fruit smoothies by the beach, and it turns out that thanks to a budget airline hundreds of thousands of Russians flock to the island every year in search of the sun.

Our budget hostel on the beach was where I first spotted the map featuring Monkey Island, and although obviously keen, I did have my reservations about a Chinese animal park.  However, there were some encouraging reviews about the Island online, so I put my doubts aside and dedicated a day to finding it.

The trip itself was epic, involving a public bus, a mian bao private bus, several wrong turns, a motorbike taxi, a prolonged bout of haggling with the motorbike taxi driver and then finally a spectacular cable car across the strait to the island itself.  Although exhausting, it was a fascinating journey, as you could see first hand the Chinese countryside and rural economy in action, from the fruit sellers carrying their wares on their backs to the farmers tilling the fields with their water buffaloes.

As the cable car finally ground to a halt, I looked down and there they were!  Skittering around in the afternoon sun were hundreds of macaque monkeys.  According to the island’s publicity blurb, the island now houses about two thousand of the critters, and is a state-protected nature reserve – one of the first of its kind here in China.

For those who are not so keen on monkeys (???), the park also features many protected species of butterfly and several rare plants.

It wasn’t perfect – a big fly in the ointment was most certainly the ‘monkey stunt show’ and there were also several monkeys forced to raise miniature flags at passing tourists.  There is a long way to go before some of the more less savoury aspects of animal treatment in this country are eliminated, but all in all it was most definitely a positive step forward, and proof that this kind of more nature-friendly tourism has a future in China.

If you’re interested, the photos of the journey (and of course the island) are here…

Until next week blogwatchers good luck and good tasty, zaijian!

Number 11 – the electric tree

With the ‘current global economic crisis’ (© international media) looming large in the hearts and minds of all, the number of ‘venerable outsiders’ coming to China to seek their fame and fortune grows larger by the day.

There was a time when these intrepid entrepreneurs would be limited by language, legislation or just the basic nuts and bolts knowledge of how to do business in China.  However, with the rise of Chinese language study, the country throwing open their doors to all foreign friends and reams of ‘chasing the Chinese dragon’ style literature on best business practice, these barriers to entry are not the ‘great walls’ they once were.

Although it is almost universally acknowledged that access to the Chinese market is now easier than ever, better access is no guarantee of success.  There are still many subtle dangers and learning experiences that every budding Mr. /Mrs. China has to encounter and overcome before they see any real returns for their hard work or investment.

In the modernised, vibrant cities around China, you sometimes find yourself forgetting that it is only in the last 25 years that the middle kingdom and the west have been reading from anything like the same page in terms of commerce.  It is in the melting pot of international office space that this disparity in experience and cross-cultural knowledge can come to the fore and create problems for both natives and outsiders here.

Below are a few of the most common issues found in such workplaces.  It is by no means a comprehensive inventory, and also comes with the caveat that none of is intended as a criticism of either culture, but merely a guide to successfully adapting yourself to the Chinese working way of life:

• Reactions

In this country that was hidden from the world’s glare for such a long time, everyday people’s reactions to certain situations differ somewhat from their western counterparts.  An obvious example is laughing.  Travel scribe Paul Theroux once pointed out that “the Chinese have 50 different ways of laughing but none of them involve humour, like ‘ha ha ha – we’re in big trouble now!’ or ‘ha ha ha – don’t expect me to really answer that question’”.  Being put on the spot can trigger this laughter reflex, and under intense questioning from an angry laowai boss who hasn’t received a vital report on time, a Chinese worker may be prone to a fit of the giggles.  This in turn provokes further rage from the manager who cannot comprehend why the situation is amusing to his or her member of staff, when actually the worker thinks it’s anything but.

• Patience

The ‘I want it all and I want it now’ culture of the west can at times grate against the more xiu xian (relaxed) working culture prevalent in many Chinese cities.  It’s a fact of life that things move a little slower here, and rather than jump up and down, rail at the injustice of it all and get nowhere fast, it’s much better for your heart and your popularity to go with the flow, politely smile and apply consistent and polite pressure where it counts.

• Style

For a number of reasons, the Chinese office is generally a lot more casual than its Western counterpart.  For one thing no one really wants to stand out, and when the boss rarely wears a suit, it’s hard for his underlings to do so without looking like they are trying to show off.  The casual nature of the Chinese workplace makes it hard for someone who wants to be stylish to fit in with the overall office aesthetic.

• Lunch

Never play down the vital role lunch plays in the Chinese workplace.  While the British practice of a wolfing down a quick sandwich in front of your computer is slowing beginning to become more prevalent on these shores, on the whole the Chinese take a more continental approach to their afternoon meals.  Asking staff to work during a lunch hour could result in a few raised eyebrows.

So, that’s the end to this short guide to adapting to life in the Chinese workplace.  Every country in the world has its difficulties and rewards when it comes to doing business, and China is no exception.  Working here can be frustrating, but it can also be diverse and fun, and China is arguably the most exciting place on the planet to do business right now.  You meet enthusiastic and talented co-workers and learn new things every day, and with an open mind and a healthy dose of patience and anyone can make success happen here.

Number 10 – Romance isn’t dead in the middle kingdom

Personally I like to think about my old school bag while ‘getting off’.  Ah Mr. Sackville, how I miss you…