I have finished a draft of the first song of American Expatriate, “Arriving”. It’s got a skeleton instrumental and complete lyrics, although I haven’t revised them yet. It describes the narrator’s first moments arriving in China, first while he’s looking out the plane and then later when he’s lugging his luggage up the eight flights of stairs to his apartment. It’s got a chorus that is meant to be sung, so prepare yourselves now: I’ll be singing again on this album. (Don’t worry though, I’ll be getting some knowledgeable help before I record it).

I’ve decided on a writing style for the album that’s heavily influenced by my recent experience writing some short fiction (and reading it). Although the overarching plot of the album isn’t exactly crystallized yet, don’t expect there to be a lot of dialogue. This song, and those that follow it, get the point across largely through a description of the environment, filtered (of course) through the narrator’s somewhat distorted perspective.

Why am I choosing to write it this way? For one, I find it much more interesting than conveying feelings with dialogue. A song already is dialogue in a sense; I can use tone and emotion in the delivery and convey information without having to have the character talk to people. Secondly, it fits one of the overarching themes of the album, which is isolation. This is not to say that the narrator won’t interact with other people–quite the contrary–but my concern is primarily what’s going on inside his head. What happens outside is really only important in that it affects his mind state. Finally, it allows me to paint a visual picture and convey information about the narrator at the same time. Since urban China is an interesting setting, and one that many listeners won’t be familiar with, the more detail I can cram into the songs, the clearer a picture of the setting they are going to get. At the same time, by filtering that detail through the narrator’s language, the listener learns something about him, too. It’s the proverbial two birds-one stone thing.

I’ve also been wanting to bring magical realism into some of my music for a while now, being a fan of authors like Borges, so expect a good bit of that, too. Nothing too crazy, though. I think you’ll like it.

Musically, I’ve got around 40 skeleton instrumentals, of which 3 or 4 might end up on the album, if that. I’m still learning my way around the new Reason, and developing my composition skills. It’s really too early to say anything for sure, but expect real-life drums and stripped-down piano chord melodies mixed with some distortion and occasional electronic intrusions.

A friend of mine posted this in the comment section of my previous post, and it got me thinking:

Fear is in most situations driven by ignorance, but in this situation it’s an ignorance that is maintained by the West probably not wanting to know, but also in China’s institutionalized lack of transparency. [The article] raises a great point though, that things have come a far way from where they were. A friend of mine who just visited his relatives in rural China said that things were surprisingly well and that everybody was generally pretty happy. This conflicts pretty heavily with my notion of China, but I readily admit I’m a product of American media.

She makes a good point, and it got me thinking about how much of Western ignorance we can really blame on the Chinese government’s lack of transparency. If the issue we’re looking at here is purely why Americans (or Western people generally) are ignorant about China, then first we need to examine the things Americans don’t know about China and whether the availability of that information is affected at all by the Chinese government. So here are some things Americans are ignorant of, generally speaking, as based on my experience in the twenty-two years I lived in the States.

1) Chinese History: Without knowing at least some history, is it really possible to understand any country? Especially in the case of China, recent history shapes the way citizens view their country and their government. Chinese people, by and large, look at their system and compare it to the way things were in China twenty years ago, or earlier. After more than a century of bloody warfare, ruthless imperialism, disastrous economic management, and heartless ideological persecution of nearly everyone, the current system looks like heaven, even if it does have some downsides.

Americans by and large completely lack that historical context. But can we blame the Chinese government for it? Not really. There are thousands and thousands of English language books available on modern Chinese history, many of them very good. Just reading one book about the last hundred years of Chinese history would do wonders for understanding, but most Americans haven’t. (Many Americans have read a book or two about the mistakes the Communist Party made in the 1950s and 60s, but in my experience, they tend to imagine the China of today as more or less the same place, so it doesn’t help.)

2) Chinese Culture: There’s no way to understand a people without understanding their culture. Unfortunately, Chinese culture is probably one of the hardest to understand because it more or less spans 5,000 years of history and is extremely diverse. Because of this, most Americans tend to pick and choose which parts of it they know anything about, the result being that lots of Americans know the names of famous Kung Fu stars but couldn’t tell you anything about Confucianism.

Again, this isn’t really the government’s fault. Information on Chinese culture is readily available in the States in movies, books, and in the various “Chinatowns” that dot Americas major cities.

3) Chinese Popular Opinion: Everyone in the world knows that most Americans don’t approve of President Bush, and that the war in Iraq has faced bitter opposition both at home and abroad, but what do people know about how the Chinese people feel about their political system and their leaders? In general, very little.

To some extent, one could argue that the government restricts access to this information through censoring dissenting voices inside the country. There are, however, respectable polls that can give Americans a good idea how how the Chinese people feel about their political system. (Most recently, a Pew poll found that “strikingly large numbers of Chinese are happy with their nation’s overall direction, booming economy and how its government is handling important problems”). Alternatively, anyone interested enough to learn Chinese can go online and ask any of the hundreds of millions of Chinese internet users anything they want. Even non-Chinese speakers can get a glimpse from websites set up specifically for them, such as the recently-popular Anti-CNN’s English-language forum.

4) Public Opinion on Controversial Topics: Of course, what everyone in America really wants to talk about is what the Chinese think of controversial issues like, say, that thing that happened in a famous public square in 1989 (You know the one I mean).

Is their access to this information limited by the Chinese government’s lack of transparency? Partially. Certainly, the veracity of information provided by the Chinese government on those kinds of topics is questionable. Of course, there’s tons of conflicting information available outside China from various protest and human rights groups, but much of that is pretty biased, too. Really, the issue here is not a lack of information, but a lack of information that isn’t obviously biased either for or against China.

Talking to Chinese people about these topics can also prove difficult, and one might be inclined to assume that a Chinese person’s reticence to discuss them with foreigners reflects that they are either “ignorant” of the truth or “oppressed” and afraid of state retribution when the foreigner isn’t looking. Both of those things may be factors, but there is a third, and perhaps more powerful factor: the general perception that that sort of “dirty laundry” isn’t something one should discuss with outsiders.

Conclusion: Generally speaking, I think that most Americans have a lot to learn about China before they can rightfully claim that their ignorance is the fault of the government. On a more editorial note, it seems to me that those who really want to change things in China would do better to educate themselves about China before engaging in any pro- or anti-China protests. Read books, talk to Chinese people, learn Chinese (it’s not as hard as you think, start here). And remember that there are always two sides to a story, and the truth is generally somewhere in the middle.

And when all else fails, just ask me what I think, because I’m right, dammit.

I especially think this part is worthwhile:

Today’s schoolchildren [in China] enjoy far more sophisticated sports than throwing hand grenades [a school “sport” during the Cultural Revolution]. They know a lot more about the outside world. I wonder if Western children know as much about China? And if they did, would there be still be the same fear? Maybe the Olympics will bring us closer.

Perhaps I should elaborate. I’m fine; everyone I work with was driven to the hospital today for the mandatory medical inspections that come with our residency visas. I went with three other people in the morning because I had to teach this afternoon.

After filling out some forms in the lobby, we walked upstairs and saw a doctor, who checked our blood pressure and then covered our forms with stamps. He was also willing to check your heart, if you wanted, but it wasn’t mandatory. In the next room, some nurses and a woman with an IV rack were sitting on wooden benches watching Olympic swimming.

After that, we walked downstairs and outside. The Chinese staff member who was with us helpfully pointed out that the building next to the hospital (with an open gate that we were walking towards) was a prison. We turned before the prison gate and went down some dingy stairs into a darkish basement with two regular wooden doors, one of which had the symbol for radiation on it. This was because we needed chest x-rays, apparently. The machine was clearly quite old, and they didn’t use any kind of shielding for any other part of my body, so I assume that I now either have cancer or am sterile. Or both! (Not really). The X-ray guy stamped our forms and we climbed back out of the gloom.

Then it was off to another room in the main building, upstairs. Another doctor was there, and he asked us how tall we were, and how much we weighed. Being the only American (and thus the only one in the room who wasn’t intimately familiar with his own measurements in metric), I couldn’t really answer these questions (”Six feet?”), so they made up numbers. Then he put some more stamps on the forms and we went back downstairs.

The last stop was a room with several nurses on the ground floor. I knew they needed to draw blood and so was nervous (I hate the fingerprick thing), but it turned out this was the badass kind of drawing blood, the kind where they tie off your arm, put a needle in it, and watch as the pressure rockets several gallons of your blood into a glass container. Seriously, they took so much blood. What the hell do they need all that blood for? My arm hurts. Anyway, they stamped our forms some more, and that was it. Having collected the requisite number of form stamps, we exited. Theoretically, someday, we’ll get visas.

Also, I had my first taste of real 地三鲜 today and it was amazing. For those who don’t know what that is, imagine this: Jesus makes an amazing dish of potatoes, green peppers, and a magic heavenly sauce. Then, someone tells him to put in eggplant and he says, “You know what, fine. This is so frickin’ good that even eggplant couldn’t screw it up.” Then you eat around the eggplant and it is delicious. (Pro tip: order it salty 咸 as opposed to sweet 甜 if given the option). It cost me 10 RMB, which is about double what a giant plate of noodles costs at the same place, but I think I’ll have to indulge every now and then anyway.

Yeah, me neither. According to the Chinese TAs who work at my branch of work though, I look like Taiwanese megastar Jay Chou. I asked them how I could resemble a Chinese person, and someone said, “Well, you both speak Chinese…”

Of course.

Other Miscellanea: I’ve got an adapter for the camera now, so video production will resume as previously kinda-scheduled. I’ve got a busy week coming up, but I’m still hoping to do that little bit on the Olympics.

Also, I met a bunch of the neighbors yesterday in an attempt to apologize for/disassociate myself from my roommate’s cultural faux pas/pet murder. They were very nice, but they reminded me like no one yet has just how bad my Chinese actually is. I went out and bought like 5 different textbooks today, and a bunch of Tintin comics in Chinese, too.

Regarding music, I haven’t done a ton recently. I’ve got about a couple verses that may or may not end up on American Expat, 5 or 6 songs for my regular solo project, and one instrumental done for the project with Sarah Clark, although I haven’t heard whether she likes it or not yet.

I was sitting in the Foreign Teachers’ Office today with a few other teachers when he came in, clearly flustered. He’s often sort of flustered–he’s been putting a lot of effort into meeting Chinese people and just getting out, but he’s been ripped off a bunch of times, and just generally found things difficult (he doesn’t speak any Chinese). Then, he told us that he had just killed someone’s pet.

At first, I figured that was some British figure of speech I had never heard, but no. He saw a praying mantis tied to a string that “appeared to be suffering” and killed it. This, shockingly, had angered the insect’s owner. In an annoyed tone, he explained to us that he had been forced to get a Chinese-English dictionary and explain to them “praying mantises aren’t pets.”

Of course, Praying Mantises have been pets in China for thousands of years. They eat other insects and don’t stain rugs, and so are often kept tied to a string near beds so as to get rid of pests. They apparently live 5-6 months, and I imagine they aren’t kept in the winter, so the one he killed probably had a good couple months left.

It might have been suffering, of course, but honestly, unless you’re an expert in praying mantis behavior how could anyone tell? Can insects even feel pain? (According to this guy, no.). And even if it WAS suffering, why didn’t he tell the pet’s owner that instead of telling him that his pet isn’t a pet?

The answers to these questions are not clear to me. I did ask him if he would kill someone else’s dog if he saw that tied up somewhere. He answered that when he lived in the Middle East, people there considered cats pests, and left poison out for them. The poison took a while to actually kill the cats, he said. He paused for a second, and then: “A cat’s neck isn’t easy to break.” As he said it, he left my room.

The cultural superiority and general insensitivity he displayed is simply staggering to me. I knew that he held some misguided opinions about Chinese culture, but I figured they came more from ignorance than anything else (and that’s a problem a lot of people have when it comes to China). Telling someone his pet isn’t a pet, and refusing to apologize or even pay for it after you’ve killed it, though…that’s something else entirely.

And, of course, as the only other foreigner living in this area, everything he does reflects on me, and in all likelihood, people get the two of us confused. Great.

Needless to say, I was pretty panicked when I actually stepped in front of the class for the first time. I think I did a decent job of hiding it, and it turned out they were more terrified of me than I of them. At the end of the first activity, which involved me chasing students and trying to tag them after they read a specific vocab word, I heard one of the girls say (in Chinese to the TA) “the teacher is frightening!”. I think she was sort of joking, though.

Anyway, the kids definitely had fun, and they seemed to learn some stuff, too. They were very solid on the review material, and picked up the new vocab I was teaching them very quickly. For 4-6 year olds, they were pretty calm. All in all, it was a good class.

The highlight, probably, was when I was doing a relay game with them where I ask one student, “How are you?” The student must respond, “I am fine,” then turn to the next student in line and ask them, “How are you?” and so on down the line. One of the girls, Coco, was pretty sharp but didn’t have the longest attention span, and during one of the relays she clearly forgot what was going on. The student next to her asked her “How are you?” and she froze for a moment. She turned to me, looked at me with extremely wide eyes, and then turned back to the student who had asked her how she was and said brightly, “Hello!”

It was way better if you were there. I promise not to turn this blog into “(Chinese) Kids Say the Darndest Things (in English Class)”, but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t a downright heartwarming experience.

Also, thanks to everyone for the many kind words following my last two posts. Please don’t worry about me; I’m ok.

Anyone who has ever felt that sort of loneliness knows that it can be absolutely crippling. And, to an extent, it has been. I have enough social anxiety issues without being in a new place, surrounded by another culture. It was like I skipped the first two stages of culture shock and skipped right to the part where you hate everything and everyone. The fun part!

Anyway, today I needed to venture out for groceries. Long AIM conversations with the couple friends from the States who are actually still in touch with me had brightened my mood slightly, and I need to eat anyway. As I was walking down the stairs, I ran into an old woman, chatting up another resident who was standing in her doorway. They looked at me–everyone looks at me–so I greeted them and was about to head on my way. Suddenly, I remembered that no one had told us what we were supposed to do with our garbage, so I turned around and asked her.

She was taken aback for a second–many people are when they discover you can speak more Chinese than just “你好” (”hello”)–but answered quickly (apparently, you just leave it outside your door). She asked how long I’d been here, how I had learned Chinese, etc., and then I turned to leave. She paused for a second, then smiled at me and said “Don’t be afraid to ask things, anyone here will help you.” It was a simple thing to say, but I could see in her weathered face that she meant it, and her friend was smiling like she meant it, too.

I thanked her and rolled down the the next four flights of stairs and out onto the street. The Raconteurs’ song “You Don’t Understand Me” was playing in my headphones, and at the same moment I stepped out into the sun, the song exploded its way into the chorus:

And there’s always another point of view,
A better way to do the things we do,
And how can you know me, and I know you?

It was one of those moments when things come together so perfectly that you think maybe there is a god out there. I thought about what that woman said, and the other little kindnesses total strangers have shown me since I got here, and nearly cried. Keep that in mind the next time someone tells you that a little act of kindness doesn’t have an effect on the world. You never know who you might save.

In the interim, here’s a video.