Pro… Where?

It should come as no surprise to you that I occasionally reread my own blog entries. Not out of a sense of vainglory but so that I can keep up the narrative thread. You should know that I am not building a concordance as I write. When I refer you back to a previous entry I am mostly doing it from memory, something to the effect of “I KNOW I’ve written about that topic before!” And then off I am, searching my archives for when I’ve written about specific subjects, before I type the dreaded (See ---- entry, written on this or that date).

Having now written over two hundred entries, and on two different computers, sometimes searching for a specific anecdote can be daunting. Add to that the central file, formerly kept on the external hard drive that died last year in December, as well as now using thumb drives that I use to store entries in so I can take them to the internet café, I can testify that my blog archives are truly a mess. It would be so much easier if I could access my blog to see what I’ve posted and when I’ve posted it, but I don’t have that option while living in China.

Which brings me to this topic: Pro… Where?

I was going through the last few posts I’ve written, storing them on my laptop’s hard drive from the thumb drive, and ran across what I feel is one of the most provocative posts I’ve ever written: the one titled Human Rights.

I wonder how you received that post. Did some of my opinions and contentions outrage you? Did some of them give you pause? Did anything I wrote in that post sway you to the conviction that ending that poor child’s life was in fact more merciful than preserving it?

After rereading that post, and several others I came to the conclusion that it appears I admire Chinese society and the Chinese way of life at the cost of regarding the American way of life with any fairness. In this post I want to set the record straight.

I am not pro China or anti America. For that matter, I’m not vice versa, either.

When comparing the two societies side by side I am attempting to highlight the cultural and societal differences. I am so privileged as to have experience living in both countries. I feel I have a duty to report on my personal experiences – kind of like an Evremonde of the Charles Dickens “A Tale of Two Cities” fame. His name was a play on words, designed to mean ‘everyone’ or ‘anyone’ (Evre – from English ‘every’; ‘monde’ – from French to be ‘world’, or ‘population’). Very cleverly done Mr. Dickens, being as the story itself is a Tale of Two Cities – Paris and London, located in the countries that speak those languages.

I also feel that I have a duty to emphasize that what the media might report, such as this little girl’s fate, or when pianist Lang Lang regaled a White House audience with his rendition of a moving cinematic moment (see Lang Lang Madness, posted in January of this year) is often done with a liberal bias against the Chinese. My personal preferences do not belong in a factual assessment.

But they do belong here, in this entry.

Obviously, I enjoy living in China. Otherwise I would not be here. I would long have packed my bags and run back to where I had it made: America. Where I was a homeowner and car owner, with family and great friends on the same continent and… who knows? Maybe I could have gotten my old job back and taken up the middle class lifestyle again. Or, at least, the middle class income.

Some aspects of this life are not pleasant: being at the mercy of the university, who administers to my needs as possible or as they see fit. For example – a petty one to be sure, but one nonetheless: when I asked for a replacement for the office chair that died. Instead, I got a kitchen chair that tortures my back and butt. When I questioned Sam about the chance of getting an actual office chair, padded/swivel/casters model, I got… another kitchen chair. This one is mahogany. I would much rather have an actual office chair, but the chairs I was given are considered an office chair to this school. Not even Dean Tu, the head honcho has a better chair than the ones I have. If I want an office chair I will have to buy it myself.

Why would I buy a piece of furniture for myself when I have no guarantee of tenure here?

I am on a year by year contract. If, for some reason I become displeasing to A. the students, B. the university staff, C. the Chinese government, my time here is over. And that is another uncomfortable aspect of living here: no guarantee for the future and no stability.

Simply put: I love my life in China. That is why, amidst my heartbreak at not sharing a continent with my kids and grandkids, not being able to observe traditional holidays and festivals with my fellow Americans, not seeing anyone who looks like me, talks like me or lives like me, I choose to live here.

I also feel that I have lessons to learn. Deep, spiritual, life-changing lessons that I could not and did not learn in the 20+ years I spent living in America. Like how to share. How to be a friend. How to open up to people and stop believing I must live behind a wall my painful past experiences have caused me to build.

And I am learning these things. By virtue of this society that is based on sharing and openness, I too am learning to open up and share. Because I am so far away from everyone I love in the States I am learning how to be a better friend. It is so hard to learn these life lessons but, being immersed in a culture that demands such things, I have no choice but to adapt. To learn how to do it. You could say that I’m living in China because I’ve never learned how to be human.

Do I think America is bad? No. Not at all. I believe America is a very young country, still finding her place in the global scheme of things. She has a long way to go in forming a culture, and in learning about diplomacy and fairness. Take things that America damns China for – human rights violations, for example. Americans are guilty of the very same thing! The legal system is not fairly administered, even though we have documentation that specifically states how it should be administered fairly. Discrimination is a seemingly insurmountable societal ill. Street violence causes people to barricade themselves in their homes, set their alarms and not try to mingle with other cultures. Indeed, some are compelled to hate other cultures and ethnicities because of the rumor that that culture/ethnicity is violent.

Do I think China is good? Not necessarily. China, just like every country on the globe including America, has her issues. In her 5,000+years of continuous civilization, the Chinese, in one form or another have practiced atrocious violations against humanity. They have spurned relations with other countries and openly proclaimed their superiority. At one time their borders were completely closed. That is 1/7^th of the world, locked up tighter than a drum, with all of the resources she could have been sharing, and all of the knowledge and wisdom such an ancient society has accrued and could have taught others, locked up. Only recently has China seen the errors of her ways and cautiously opened up again.

Which country is better? That is a matter of conjecture. Why should one country be deemed good and another one bad? Wouldn’t it be fair to say that every country has their good and bad points?

This is a great gig for me, being your eyes/ears. But I do so with the awareness that my words are tinged with my own preferences. My eyes are clouded by my own prejudices. Please believe me that, inasmuch as possible I do my best to be unbiased and factual in my reporting. Also, remember that anything I write is interpreted through the window of your own thoughts, feelings and experiences.

Maybe there is no answer to whether America is better than China or China is better than America. Maybe it doesn’t matter, as long as the Chinese are happy with their country and the Americans are happy with theirs.

Whether one is good, the other is bad or they are both the same, please believe that I hold them both in high esteem and see them both with great regard. No matter what my blog postings seem to say to you.