Meow 泽东

The following are pictures of my cat George/Chairman Meow to mentally prepare my bestfriend Tabi for the throes of fright and terror she thinks she will be put through when she comes to visit:

I will watch you when you sleep

BOOYA! Try to scare the shit out of you. Aren't I intimidating?

Drink all your water when I think you're not looking.\

Take wild rides on your bike.. Bought insurance?

Install Viruses into your Mac

Demand that you tuck me in when I'm sleepy

Tabi, I hope these terrifying images will not deter you from your plans to visit and will adequately prepare you for the horror that you will face if you do come. I promise to equip you with protective gear and have a trident at hand to slay the beast should the need arise.

Love you!

有名人

Leonardo Dicaprio likes redmango

Or maybe not.

是墙壁还是人？

We decided to go ice skating one weekend in Ningbo.

The idea was more daunting to us than it probably sounds to you. I’ve been ice-skating less than 10 times in my life, and the last time C ice skated was close to 8 years ago. Furthermore, this was a Saturday and the ring was rather crowded. AND we were in China. But being adventurous and death-defying people, we decided to try it anyway.

I believe I can fly

We put on our shoes, wobble unsteadily towards the ice skating arena and gingerly step onto the sparkling white ice. I cling on to C for my life and we make a few rounds on the outskirts, trying to ignore the teenagers zipping past us and the rosy-cheeked children doing pirouettes and splits in the center of the ring. I gradually start gaining momentum and finding my center of gravity again. I think to myself, “Oh, this is actually pretty nice!”  as we slow down and smile at each other.

Just then, a sweaty-faced Chinese man comes up from behind us. He grunts with effort as he steps heavily on the ice and lurches forward clumsily to catch up with his son. As he passes me, he grabs my arm and shoves me backwards, using my solid and massive weight to heave himself forward. I gasp in surprise and look angrily at him, but I guess my heavy frame worked because he gleefully bypassed his son and cheered. Never once did he acknowledge that he used me as a wall.

My ego was as bruised as my feet afterwards, but it was overall a pretty good day.

骂人

Today I have decided to blog.

I realize that I have begun blogging less and less, despite my valiant promises to keep this blog alive and have my friends view it and make them hopefully laugh about China. I gave this some thought while on the way to work today, and have some reasons why:

1) Work is getting busier.

2) I recently returned from Japan – Now you might think that I would be refreshed after a lovely and relaxing holiday and be readier than ever to continue sharing my exciting experiences about China. I myself thought it might be that way, but, as things often end up, this foolish and romantic notion backfired in my face. Upon stepping off the civilized, clean, polite, friendly and beautiful grounds of Japan and into the unwelcoming ones of China, I instantly took to comparison and became gloomy. The money-swindling cab driver who took me home from the airport did not help.

3) I have entered Living in China Phase 3  (insert ominous DENG DENG DENG DENG) – Living in China is an experience like no other. As time passes with every prolonged day, we all start entering different stages where our attitudes towards everything change. Let me elaborate.

Phase 1: Amazement/Amusement/Excitement – (to self) Ooh! China! People are so different, it’s so interesting, I want to learn more and immerse myself in the culture!

Phase 2: Frustration: – (to self) Why are Chinese people this way? Why do they have to spit on the ground? Why do they shove? Why are they rushing and squeezing past me like there’s a dragon blowing fire at their asses?

Phase 3: Anger – (to Chinese person) Stop pushing me! Can’t you queue up? Are you trying to cheat my money? Do you think I’m stupid? -insert death glare-

Phase 4: Resignation – (to self) Yeah, whatever.

I recognize that I’m in Phase 3 – I have taken to randomly scolding Chinese people whenever my buttons are pushed. If I were in any other country, I would think that people knew better and I was in no position to tell them otherwise. In China, however, the anger quickly snakes up in me and words often blurt out of my mouth before I can catch them.

The first time was two weeks ago, when I was in riding the lift to the lobby with my colleague. As the door opened, we motioned to step out but three burly Chinese men frantically squeezed themselves through the tiny space that wasn’t occupied by us, bumping our shoulders in the process. They then glared impatiently at us as if it were our fault that we hadn’t exited the lift yet and they couldn’t go up that very second. My good mood quickly turned to annoyance and I snapped, “你们不会等吗？你们很重要吗？” (Can’t you wait? Are you a very important person?)

Since then, my bouts of China-induced tourettes have happened more and more. And to be honest, it’s getting less inadvertent and more deliberate now. Because it actually works. People get embarrassed when you call them on their behavior, and they stop yelling, screaming, or shoving. Instead they’ll be surprised, and they’ll quickly rearrange their features into nonchalance and try to shrink into the background to make it look like they weren’t the offending person pointed out.

It’s mean, I know. But, TIC baby.

奥迪人

A Chinese Audi

流血人

WARNING: The following blog post may contain graphic and potentially disturbing images. Reader discretion is advised.

The biggest turnoff about China so far would be its public restrooms. Not so much that the majority of them are muddy, unhygienic and flooded with human waste. What disturbs me even more are the little wastepaper baskets stationed in each cubicle. Here’s a peek into what a typical bin contains:

Tissue, tissue, more tissue... wait. Whats that red thing?!

If you haven’t yet guessed it, yes, it’s blood you’re looking at. Blood leaked from a woman’s privates during her menstrual cycle, to be exact. 99% of locals avoid the big, bad tampons that will rip your hymen apart and flock to using pads instead. Which is a personal choice that I honestly have no qualms about.

The problem comes when women carelessly toss their used pads into the bin. The moment this undesirable object leaves their hands, its none of their business anymore and they happily exit the restroom, not caring that the crimson stain of their menstrual blood is on full display for everyone else to see. It makes me a little sick every time I enter a restroom and find myself staring in horror at a blood soaked dirty pad that was previously squashed onto someone’s hairy vagina for hours before being unceremoniously tossed into this bin.

Trust me when I say that this is not a rare occurrence. This actually happens much, much, MUCH more than I would like it to.

上班人

China has over 1 billion people. Shanghai itself has over 21 million people, with 98% of them being local Chinese. Now this, as you can imagine, creates a lot of unemployment issues.

In attempt to combat this problem, the government magically creates unique, creative, and sadly, rather pointless jobs for their citizens. Take the Metro for instance.

Everyday as I take the escalator down to the Metro, I face this before the gantries:

Security check!

I completely understand that this thoughtful act is done for the safety of all Metro users. It also requires the hard work of many people. There will be a person scrutinizing the monitors, and up to three people standing by the machine gesturing for people to put their bags through the scanner. Sounds like a grand scheme to solve unemployment problems and improve our safety, right?

A closeup of the security man

Wrong. The issue is, it’s not mandatory to place any of your personal belongings through the scanner. The bored, restless and stoic man standing by the machine simply lifts his hand feebly each time someone walks past. Just continue moving and his hand will drop limply back to his side as he awaits the next person with the same deadpan expression.

That’s not all. As I enter the Metro waiting area, I will see this man:

The train-watcher

It stands to this day that I have no idea what the real purpose is of this man’s job is. All I know is that every time the chirpy woman’s voice filters through the intercom announcing the arrival of a train, he lifts his arm and faintly wiggles the green flag around. I suppose this could be a signal for the deaf as they will not be able to hear the announcement. When the train arrives and the doors open, he puts a silver whistle in his mouth and blares it so loudly that it will deafen you even if you are not yet deaf. Come to think of it, it’s a pretty smart move. That way you will need his expert flag waving skills and he can keep his job, you see.

I get that the government is trying to create jobs and minimize unemployment. But I’m struggling to see the value in this and cannot help but laugh every time I see these people.

新加坡人

I’ve been spending my time sharing my musings on Chinese people. I was thinking that today would be time to turn the tables and share what I’ve seen is the opinion of us Singaporeans.

While most Chinese people that I meet can instantly guess that I’m not from China, most foreigners that I come upon shake my hand cordially and say “你好！” (Hello!) with an over pronounced accent and a little bow to boot.

Ironically, it’s the locals who firmly believe that we are as Chinese as them. Not so much that we use RenMinBi and are located in China itself (though I’ve met people who did ask me that), but that that we are much similar to a country like Taiwan, with the generation above recently having been separated from China but still strongly withholding Chinese practices and customs. Upon revealing my nationality, 90% of Chinese people I meet will proudly comment, “啊，新加波有很多中国人，你们都是从中国来的！” (Ah, there are many Chinese people in Singapore, you are all from China!) This usually follows with questions on our level of Chinese education in Singapore and our frequency of using the Chinese language.

Foreigners, on the other hand, tend to think us as Chinese as we are Koreans or Japanese. After the usual rounds of ““AH!! CHEWING GUM! CAPITAL PUNISHMENT! HAHA!”, we usually launch into arguments where I insist on the authenticity of my Chinese background and vehemently try to explain the Chinese customs that we follow. Laughter and multiple head-shakes will then ensue as they firmly assert that I have no Chinese characteristics whatsoever.

What do you think? While I firmly believe that we have Chinese roots, our generation has indeed strayed far from the rudimentary Chinese customs that our grandparents still hold. I’m still undecided if I should be proud of insulted when called Chinese.

Then again, why do we have to be Chinese, or Malay, or Indian? Why can’t we, while acknowledging our various descents, simply be Singaporean and leave it as that? We are a multiracial and multilingual country that needs to have its own label and peel away those that others try to stick on us. Are we too small to be able to proudly own our individual label? Or would the gradual progress of our young country eventually earn the respect of the world to call us Singaporeans?

精彩人

In order to diffuse the negativity that may appear to be the central theme of my previous posts, let me now share what I find to be wonderfully irreplaceable in China.

1) It supports your laziness – Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING can be purchased and delivered to your house instantly. Up for a good meal? Log in online and order Chinese, Mexican, American, Singaporean, or Italian food from any joint across the city and have it arrive at your doorstep in 45 minutes. Throwing a party? Call your nearest supermarket and order beers, raw steaks, sausages and fresh fruits. You can even get an entire barbecue grill if you lost your previous one. Feeling tired? Text your personal masseuse and she’ll be there to knead you into a state of relaxation and bliss. I could go on, but you get the picture. You can literally survive for weeks without stepping out of the house. The best part is, most of these services are done at no cost, or if anything, at less than 15 RMB (3 SGD). The worst part is that you will grow fat and lazy.

2) It’s an endless treasure hunt – Hidden in the nooks and crannies of Shanghai are places you would never expect to find. You could be strolling down a local neighbourhood filled with Chinese people speeding and honking away. Take a right turn and voila! A rustic European-style street bustling with little brasseries, cafes and bistros that will be the perfect place to have a cappuccino on a warm Sunday afternoon. You could also be walking cautiously down a dark, deserted street in the middle of the night. Take a left turn and lights and noise explode in your face as you suddenly find yourself facing masses of elegantly dressed people spilling out of a glittery club.

3) Everyday is an adventure – Despite my constant whining about the oddities of this country, it never ceases to amuse me daily. On one day I can have an overeager squeezer shuffling so close to me on the escalator that I trip and my shoes fall off. On another day I can meet the nicest cab driver who lets me ride for free because he feels bad about the horrendous traffic jam. You never know what’s going to happen to you in China, but you know that whatever does is sure to put a smile to your face when you reminisce upon it.

病人

So for those of you that don’t yet know, this is how I make my way to work every day.

A bicycle!

Well, for the first part of the journey anyway. Then I take the Metro for about 4 stops and walk 1km to get to the office. I know, I’ve come a long way from my spoilt, car-driving, petrol-wasting, parking-paying days.

So anyway, I’ve come to rather enjoy this part of my journey. Turns out escaping near-death traffic accidents, breathing in polluted air and going deaf from endless honking actually brings about some sense of inner peace to my zen self. I would even rather cycle to and from work than take a cab these days. I guess the constant morning mayhem makes me appreciate that I really am in China and living a frugal and independent life.

This was all fine and beautiful until one day after work. I exit the Metro, approach my bike, and see this:

This, as I reach my hand to pick it up and toss it out, turned out to be a crumpled wad of tissues that must have been used by someone curling up and shriveling to death from the worst flu in the world. The tissues were filled with a gooey, discoloured substance that I can only assume to be…

Snot.

Eeeuurgghhyyyhhhhhhhhhh is right.