At least in the United States, rape and date rape are extremely sensitive and serious subjects. According to the Bureau of Justice (1992), one in four college women have suffered rape or attempted rape. Of these women, three-quarters know their rapist or attempted rapist, according to a survey conducted by the Bureau of Justice. The statistics are shocking, and the literature provided on the topic of rape and acquaintance rape, I feel, do a good job of communicating what the issues are and that it is NOT okay. Perhaps it wasn't the same in the past, but at least now, my personal impression is that issues like rape and date rape are taken seriously, and people are educated on them.
I've been disturbed, though, by what seems to be a strange laxity on quasi-rape and acquaintance rape in Chinese media. In my limited experience with Chinese movies, I remember at least three that include scenes of sexual harassment but no scenes of litigation or even outrage in response to the rapes. For example, in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Zhang Ziyi plays a princess who is captured by a vagabond ninja of some sort. In his desert cave, he ends up forcing himself upon her. In the movie, 方便面 or Instant Noodles, there is scene of a man and woman who have been seeing each other. They are sitting at the man's house, and the man forces himself upon the woman. And thirdly, in a recently released movie about the AIDS villages in China called 最爱, a man and a woman who know each other are sitting together on a roof and the man sexually harasses the woman.
In all three movies, the men and women know each other, the man forces himself upon the woman, the woman resists in some way, the man disregards her, and despite all of this, on the next day, the man and woman remain friends and even sometimes become lovers. There is no anger on the part of the woman; there is no sense of being defiled or taken advantage of. There is no sense of rape. In the case of 最爱, the woman even seems to be charmed by the man and giggles and smiles sheepishly at him the following day.
Seeing this one time could just be an exception, but seeing it three times in three different movies implies something more. I asked my Chinese roommate about it and explained that such behavior in the U.S. would definitely be unacceptable and punishable by law. She then related to me the Chinese saying, “欲拒还迎”。Basically, it means that one acts like one is refusing sex, but what one really means is that one still welcomes it. Because of traditional Chinese culture, proper women should not desire sex and to act like one wants it would be very unbecoming. So, in order to save face and remain the shy, pure girl that society expects of her, she must always act like she refuses sexual advances. In fact, my roommate explained, if she were too welcoming, the man probably wouldn't even want her to begin with; she would lose her feminine charm and purity. So, in order to win both, the woman resists the man just enough to come off as the innocent female, but not quite enough to battle off the advancing male.
It really is sickening. And this is just one manifestation of a much larger Chinese cultural tradition. The whole virtue of "saving face" and "double talk" is so important here that things like honesty and propriety are frequently sacrificed. Even though, if the woman really wants the man, I guess that means it's not rape....but they both go through the motions of rape. The woman resists, the man fights - and all for the sake of appearing like the woman is the traditional good Chinese girl. I've come to embrace a lot of things about Chinese culture, but I don't think and hope I never will embrace the culture of "saving face".
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
I'm Chinese! ...wait, no, I'm not
Just when I think I'm Chinese, I realize I don't quite make the cut.
Just the other day, I told my roommate that I had adopted the Chinese custom of washing my feet before I go to bed. And not just before I go to bed, but basically every time I step into the house. My feet get so dirty from walking around, and as soon as I step inside, I take my shoes off. The last thing I want to do is trek dirt around on the floor, so I promptly head to the shower and rinse my soles off. I've gotten to the point where I don't quite feel right or complete without clean feet. It's such a refreshing feeling. Certainly, this foot washing thing is Chinese, right? I mean, I've seen it in movies, and my ai-yi (or Chinese aunt who lives next door) tells me to wash my feet at night. So now that I do, that must mean I'm Chinese.
However, when I told my roommate in satisfaction of my new conformity, she replied that people who wash their feet are usually the people who don't take showers. Something to do with Chinese medicine -- the foot is connected to every part of your body, like, your big toe is connected to your shoulder maybe and the arch is connected to your digestive system. If your feet are good and clean, then the rest of you is too. Furthermore, it's only Northern Chinese who really actually wash their feet before bed.
Doh! Well, that stopped my feeling especially culturally aware and open. I guess I'm still just not quite there yet. And maybe I don't want to be. I'd rather keep my showers. I'll keep the foot washing for good measure anyway, though.
Just the other day, I told my roommate that I had adopted the Chinese custom of washing my feet before I go to bed. And not just before I go to bed, but basically every time I step into the house. My feet get so dirty from walking around, and as soon as I step inside, I take my shoes off. The last thing I want to do is trek dirt around on the floor, so I promptly head to the shower and rinse my soles off. I've gotten to the point where I don't quite feel right or complete without clean feet. It's such a refreshing feeling. Certainly, this foot washing thing is Chinese, right? I mean, I've seen it in movies, and my ai-yi (or Chinese aunt who lives next door) tells me to wash my feet at night. So now that I do, that must mean I'm Chinese.
However, when I told my roommate in satisfaction of my new conformity, she replied that people who wash their feet are usually the people who don't take showers. Something to do with Chinese medicine -- the foot is connected to every part of your body, like, your big toe is connected to your shoulder maybe and the arch is connected to your digestive system. If your feet are good and clean, then the rest of you is too. Furthermore, it's only Northern Chinese who really actually wash their feet before bed.
Doh! Well, that stopped my feeling especially culturally aware and open. I guess I'm still just not quite there yet. And maybe I don't want to be. I'd rather keep my showers. I'll keep the foot washing for good measure anyway, though.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Playing Catch-up
Ah, so I'm an epic fail at blogging my experiences. This could potentially be a very bad sign for an aspiring journalist in this modern, tech-savvy world...hm, there are always second chances, though, right?
Anyway, let's play a little catch up.
I have now been in Nanjing, China for about 3 months. I've gotten to see quite a bit of history. As legend (and wikipedia) has it, Nanjing was founded in 495 BC by Fu Chai, the lord of the State of Wu. Since, then, its been carried though history as the capital to nine dynasties, as well as the Tai Ping government and Sun Yat-sen's Republic of China. It's been witness to tragedy as well as great wealth. When the Taiping government ruled in the mid-1800s, a general from the previous Qing dynasty retook the city in 1864 causing at least 100,000 to either die in the ensuing fighting or commit suicide. In late 1937, the Japanese army invaded and conquered the city. For 6 weeks, the Japanese army reigned absolute terror on the city in what would later be known as "The Rape of Nanjing." During this time, the Japanese army killed anywhere from 200 - 300,000 people (according to various estimates) and tortured and raped thousands more.
In Chinese, the word used for the Nanjing Massacre is the same word used for the Jewish Holocaust - and with good reason. Several weeks ago, my media class did a section on two films that covered the Nanjing Massacre. One is called "Don't Cry, Nanjing," and the other is simply "Nanjing, Nanjing." I had heard of the Rape of Nanjing, but I never had known the extent of the brutality and evil that existed during that time. The Japanese easily defeated the Chinese at Nanjing. Despite their victory, the Japanese proceeded to invade and loot the city; the Japanese Army also had been told they could kill all captives. Many civilians were left to the (lack of) mercy of the soldiers. Soon after the Japanese took the city, many Westerners set up a safety zone for civilians. In the weeks that ensued, though, even the safety zone was not safe. In addition to the at least 200,000 people who were murdered after the Japanese defeated Nanjing, at least 20,000 women were raped and usually mutilated, including young children and elderly women. 20,000! In the 42 days that the Japanese occupied Nanjing, that means that 472 women were raped daily. Oftentimes, one women (or girl) was raped multiple times. I do not want to quote the diaries kept during that time by several of the Western missionaries and businessmen who stayed behind to help. They are so graphic and disturbing. But people like John Rabe, Minnie Vautrin and John Magee witnessed it with their own eyes, yet were able to shelter and save thousands of lives.
After watching the films, I could not sleep. I rarely have trouble sleeping. I stayed up thinking about the terrible atrocities, all the pain, all the evil. I think I understand how so many Chinese hate the Japanese.
Hate is a powerful word, and I do not use it often. But I'm afraid it might be fitting here - for at least the particular individuals who committed these sins, for the people who did not stop them, for the system that allowed it. It is truly terrible. And to think, there are still individuals alive who lived in Nanjing at the time. It gives another depth to this city that I'm in right now, although it's hard to see it now, with the subway lines and highrise buildings.
Anyway, let's play a little catch up.
I have now been in Nanjing, China for about 3 months. I've gotten to see quite a bit of history. As legend (and wikipedia) has it, Nanjing was founded in 495 BC by Fu Chai, the lord of the State of Wu. Since, then, its been carried though history as the capital to nine dynasties, as well as the Tai Ping government and Sun Yat-sen's Republic of China. It's been witness to tragedy as well as great wealth. When the Taiping government ruled in the mid-1800s, a general from the previous Qing dynasty retook the city in 1864 causing at least 100,000 to either die in the ensuing fighting or commit suicide. In late 1937, the Japanese army invaded and conquered the city. For 6 weeks, the Japanese army reigned absolute terror on the city in what would later be known as "The Rape of Nanjing." During this time, the Japanese army killed anywhere from 200 - 300,000 people (according to various estimates) and tortured and raped thousands more.
In Chinese, the word used for the Nanjing Massacre is the same word used for the Jewish Holocaust - and with good reason. Several weeks ago, my media class did a section on two films that covered the Nanjing Massacre. One is called "Don't Cry, Nanjing," and the other is simply "Nanjing, Nanjing." I had heard of the Rape of Nanjing, but I never had known the extent of the brutality and evil that existed during that time. The Japanese easily defeated the Chinese at Nanjing. Despite their victory, the Japanese proceeded to invade and loot the city; the Japanese Army also had been told they could kill all captives. Many civilians were left to the (lack of) mercy of the soldiers. Soon after the Japanese took the city, many Westerners set up a safety zone for civilians. In the weeks that ensued, though, even the safety zone was not safe. In addition to the at least 200,000 people who were murdered after the Japanese defeated Nanjing, at least 20,000 women were raped and usually mutilated, including young children and elderly women. 20,000! In the 42 days that the Japanese occupied Nanjing, that means that 472 women were raped daily. Oftentimes, one women (or girl) was raped multiple times. I do not want to quote the diaries kept during that time by several of the Western missionaries and businessmen who stayed behind to help. They are so graphic and disturbing. But people like John Rabe, Minnie Vautrin and John Magee witnessed it with their own eyes, yet were able to shelter and save thousands of lives.
After watching the films, I could not sleep. I rarely have trouble sleeping. I stayed up thinking about the terrible atrocities, all the pain, all the evil. I think I understand how so many Chinese hate the Japanese.
Hate is a powerful word, and I do not use it often. But I'm afraid it might be fitting here - for at least the particular individuals who committed these sins, for the people who did not stop them, for the system that allowed it. It is truly terrible. And to think, there are still individuals alive who lived in Nanjing at the time. It gives another depth to this city that I'm in right now, although it's hard to see it now, with the subway lines and highrise buildings.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
In China, once again
Once again, I am going to try to blog about my time in China, so that those who might want to see how things are going can come here.
I have arrived in Nanjing. I even have my own apartment now and have completed my first week of classes. As usual, it was a bit of an adventure making it to my hotel on the first night in China. My flight from Shanghai to Nanjing was delayed by an hour. So, I ended up leaving Shanghai at midnight and arriving in Nanjing at 1 a.m. Upon arrival, the bus I could have taken to my hotel was not running anymore (of course). But fortunately, I had met a Chinese woman and her daughter in the Shanghai airport who offered their help. So at 1 a.m. I boarded a bus and traveled to some destination unknown to myself. However, I arrived safely and exited the bus to the dark, lonely streets. I found a taxi and rode to Xi Yuan Mandarin Hotel. When I got out, I didn't see the hotel at all, but the taxi driver seemed confident that he had taken me to the right place, so I got out and started looking around. It was 2 a.m. and I was lugging my two huge suitcases down a small alley hoping to find the hotel. Sure enough, I found it, but the gate was chained shut and all the lights were out, no soul in sight. I walked around for a bit trying to find an open door. I was starting to think up contingency plans for the possibility of not being able to get inside. Right across the street there was an Italian restaurant with the lights on. Just when I was about to park it outside in the cold, a security guard came outside and let me in. Thank goodness! It would have been a cold night outside. My hotel room was still cold, though. Ah, China heaters.
Anyway, I made it. Now I have my own place. Next phase: find a suitable roommate.
I have arrived in Nanjing. I even have my own apartment now and have completed my first week of classes. As usual, it was a bit of an adventure making it to my hotel on the first night in China. My flight from Shanghai to Nanjing was delayed by an hour. So, I ended up leaving Shanghai at midnight and arriving in Nanjing at 1 a.m. Upon arrival, the bus I could have taken to my hotel was not running anymore (of course). But fortunately, I had met a Chinese woman and her daughter in the Shanghai airport who offered their help. So at 1 a.m. I boarded a bus and traveled to some destination unknown to myself. However, I arrived safely and exited the bus to the dark, lonely streets. I found a taxi and rode to Xi Yuan Mandarin Hotel. When I got out, I didn't see the hotel at all, but the taxi driver seemed confident that he had taken me to the right place, so I got out and started looking around. It was 2 a.m. and I was lugging my two huge suitcases down a small alley hoping to find the hotel. Sure enough, I found it, but the gate was chained shut and all the lights were out, no soul in sight. I walked around for a bit trying to find an open door. I was starting to think up contingency plans for the possibility of not being able to get inside. Right across the street there was an Italian restaurant with the lights on. Just when I was about to park it outside in the cold, a security guard came outside and let me in. Thank goodness! It would have been a cold night outside. My hotel room was still cold, though. Ah, China heaters.
Anyway, I made it. Now I have my own place. Next phase: find a suitable roommate.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Cookies in China
Well, I got to share this experience with 2 of my good Chinese friends � Jenny, 江皓 (Jiang Hao) and 赵水燕 (Zhao Shui Yan). I was over at Shui Yan's home for the day, and Jenny came over. Shui Yan had just received a toaster oven from a friend. Well, she didn't know how to use it, but was quite excited when I told her that I often baked in America. So, we went to the super market and looked for ingredients. Originally, we were going to make some scrumptious quick bread, but Chinese supermarkets don't carry baking powder apparently. So, I improvised and switched from quick break to chocolate chip cookies.
Once we had bought the ingredients, we headed back home to begin the process. I had to keep a close eye on the mixing process, because when the Chinese make food, they don't measure ingredients. They just throw in some vegetables, some meat, salt, soy sauce then sprinkle on some MSG. It turns out tasty enough, but with baking, the Chinese way of cooking is just asking for disaster. Fortunately, I have superb baking skills, and even with an unplanned banana thrown into the cookie dough, I managed to pull out some tasty treats.
I believe I added too much salt, and the banana threw off the cookie dough consistency so that I had to add practically another cup of flour…then somehow, most of the butter baked out of the dough in the toaster oven and started sizzling and popping on the little pan. Ah, yes, superb baking skills. However, Jenny and Shui Yan thought it was wonderful. And we happily ate out chocolate chip, banana cookies with our chopsticks. Now Shui Yan knows how to use her toaster oven.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Turkey in China!
So, this is my Thanksgiving post. It is quite late coming, but I think it's still worth an update.
Until about a week before Thanksgiving Day, I had no plans whatsoever for one of my two favorite holidays of the year (up there with Christmas). I wasn't actually troubled by this fact, oddly enough. And as it turns out, there was no need to be troubled by it; the Lord provided. The week just before Thanksgiving, an American friend of mine who I know from church asked if I had any plans. Upon hearing that my Thanksgiving seemed to be doomed to an evening with myself, a lone, stray American in Beijing, she told me she had some friends hosting a dinner and she'd ask if they had room for one more. Later that evening, I received a text from her informing me that the Thanksgiving hosts were more than happy to welcome one more stray "Yankee" into their fold. I couldn't have found a better home for Thanksgiving…
I was graciously welcomed into the home of Sarah and Marian, two middle-aged single ladies working in Beijing. They have lived in their current apartment 3 years, but have lived in China for a decade at least, I believe. They are old pros at decorating and making even a Chinese apartment feel like an American home – which was obvious as soon as I walked into their door.
As soon as I stepped in, I smelled strong coffee brewing, spotted soft whips of pumpkin pie, heard the clatter of pots and knives busily at work in the kitchen and saw American football on an Apple monitor – it felt like America. Their living and dining area was painted a deep red, almost burgundy. I saw a few pumpkins sitting randomly on top of shelves. On the coffee table was an assortment of pre-feast snacks, ranging from almond cookies to cinnamon fruit dip to real candy corn. It was everything I could do to keep myself from filling up on snacks. So, as the Thanksgiving feast was being finished up, I scavenged the snack table and talked with the other guests. There were 2 young couples also at Sarah and Marian's home. One couple had just recently married and moved to Beijing, while the other couple had been living in Beijing several years and had 3 little boys. There were 3 other single ladies, whom I already knew from church, there also. Everyone there already knew each other. However, I still managed to feel quite at ease.
For the actual dinner, we had all the essential Thanksgiving bits – turkey, both white and dark meat, stuffing, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie. We also had salad, pumpkin and yeast breads as well as apple and custard pies. Needless to say, I ate until I couldn't eat anymore. Even with a break in between food and pie, I was still struggling to walk at a normal speed when I left.
I don't know how I would have managed this year without a proper Thanksgiving. Thankfully, the Lord gave me such a wonderful one with such wonderful people. The meal was delicious; the fellowship was uplifting. The supper was followed by a time of singing hymns of Thanksgiving, then capped off with the various pies. Celebrating this holiday in China has given me hope that if I am ever in China living one day, it is quite possible that I have perfectly fulfilling holidays even while abroad. Joy and celebrations can exist regardless the circumstances.
Earn Miles
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
MIA, but I'm Back!
So, it’s been quite awhile since my last post. I recently had a friend set up my email-to-blog system (thank you, Nathan). I am sorry I have been MIA for so long. However, you can thank the Great Firewall of China for that. The People’s Republic of China celebrated her 60th birthday this year. It seems the PRC’s favorite type of party involves a lot of crack—down. Hah, forgive the poor pun. But it’s true. In the months leading up to 国庆节 (Guo Qing Jie, Independence Day), it seemed the whole of China was mobilized and put under lockdown. Every Beijing person I ran into had some role to play in the great celebration. Entire schools and classes were practicing and preparing performances for the big show in Tiananmen Square on October 1. Some schools even cancelled whole weeks of class (totally unthinkable in China) so students could practice! Professors at the various Beijing universities were also busy polishing up their contributions for the big party. The Beijing 老百姓 (lao bai xing, common people) also played a part. On every street corner in Beijing, 老爷爷’s and 老太太’s (lao ye ye and lao tai tai; lit. old grandfather, old grandmother) offered their services by sitting on stools and…well, sitting on stools. I’m pretty sure they didn’t really do anything except sit and talk to each other all day. I personally found them quite helpful because I would often ask them for directions when traveling around the city. You always knew who they were because they all wore a semi-official looking red arm badge that labeled them as a volunteer. I’m fairly certain they weren’t volunteering to give directions to 老外 (lao wai, slang term for foreigner); the word on the street was that they served as eyes and ears for the government. I’m disposed to believe this, because the more official security in Beijing was also heightened prior and during 国庆节. On every street bridge in Beijing, there were at least 2 security guards posted. It’s reassuring to see guards posted on bridges, especially when walking back to your dorm room late at night, but then again, I don’t think their main purpose was to protect the 老外 exchange student as she made her way back to her room from the 24-hour internet bar. You might think I’m being unfair to China and not giving her the benefit of the doubt. However, now that 国庆节 is over, there are no more 老爷爷’s or 老太太’s, and there are no more security guards.
But life has continued without a hitch, despite the decreased level of security and convenient source of directions. October 1st seems like so long ago now. Since that time, I’ve been busy getting settled into my classes, learning Tai Qi, finding a new appreciation for grilled cheese and climbing mountains.
I should probably change the header to my blog now b/c I am no longer in the Chinese Modern Literature department. I am now in the Chinese Culture and Language department. As interesting as Chinese Modern Literature can be, I was finding those classes to be a misuse of my time. Studying language and culture is a much better fit for me. And so, after 2 weeks of being bounced around to different offices and filling out different forms and getting different signatures, I finally switched departments. I am now happily settled in the 302 level 本科二班 (ben ke er ban, 2nd undergraduate class). I am the only white person in a class of about 15 Koreans, which is fine, seeing as this forces me to only speak Chinese with my classmates.
There is one other white person in my Tai Qi class, but I believe he is from Russia; so once again, Chinese is the common language. Unfortunately, my Tai Qi class only meets once a week. Tai Qi is already a slow-moving form of martial arts, so only having class once a week makes it even slower. But I’m happy to just be able to learn it.
It really is the little things like this that make life in China so pleasurable. Grilled cheese has even taken on a deeper meaning. I recently introduced the dish to a few of my Chinese friends. My Chinese friend invited me over to cook supper one day at her house and I volunteered making an American dish – the simplest thing I could think of was grilled cheese. It’s a comparably expensive dish to make in China because its most important ingredients (butter and cheese) are on the expensive side of food in China (the Chinese very seldom eat dairy products). But it’s well worth it. My Chinese friends appreciated the warm, toasty bread and sharp melted cheese, just as I appreciated their stir-fried carrots and potatoes and such.
The Chinese appreciate a lot in life, come to think of it. They especially appreciate mountains. Beijing’s famous mountain is 香山 (xiang shan, Frangrant Hill). I have already climbed it three times. And each time, it has been packed with people. I don’t quite know why the Chinese so enjoy climbing mountains, but it just seems to be a matter of course. The Chinese seem to view mountain climbing as one of the most standard ways of touring an area or spending the weekend. It’s often an activity for the entire family, as well. The elderly as well as the very young all climb the mountain. To be fair, the mountains in China usually all have stairs or paved pathways, but they are nonetheless mountains stairs and pathways. Before my semester is up, I will probably be back at 香山 sooner or later.
Well, I hope this has caught you up on my life to date. I hope to be able to fill in a few gaps soon, as well as keep this more updated.
But life has continued without a hitch, despite the decreased level of security and convenient source of directions. October 1st seems like so long ago now. Since that time, I’ve been busy getting settled into my classes, learning Tai Qi, finding a new appreciation for grilled cheese and climbing mountains.
I should probably change the header to my blog now b/c I am no longer in the Chinese Modern Literature department. I am now in the Chinese Culture and Language department. As interesting as Chinese Modern Literature can be, I was finding those classes to be a misuse of my time. Studying language and culture is a much better fit for me. And so, after 2 weeks of being bounced around to different offices and filling out different forms and getting different signatures, I finally switched departments. I am now happily settled in the 302 level 本科二班 (ben ke er ban, 2nd undergraduate class). I am the only white person in a class of about 15 Koreans, which is fine, seeing as this forces me to only speak Chinese with my classmates.
There is one other white person in my Tai Qi class, but I believe he is from Russia; so once again, Chinese is the common language. Unfortunately, my Tai Qi class only meets once a week. Tai Qi is already a slow-moving form of martial arts, so only having class once a week makes it even slower. But I’m happy to just be able to learn it.
It really is the little things like this that make life in China so pleasurable. Grilled cheese has even taken on a deeper meaning. I recently introduced the dish to a few of my Chinese friends. My Chinese friend invited me over to cook supper one day at her house and I volunteered making an American dish – the simplest thing I could think of was grilled cheese. It’s a comparably expensive dish to make in China because its most important ingredients (butter and cheese) are on the expensive side of food in China (the Chinese very seldom eat dairy products). But it’s well worth it. My Chinese friends appreciated the warm, toasty bread and sharp melted cheese, just as I appreciated their stir-fried carrots and potatoes and such.
The Chinese appreciate a lot in life, come to think of it. They especially appreciate mountains. Beijing’s famous mountain is 香山 (xiang shan, Frangrant Hill). I have already climbed it three times. And each time, it has been packed with people. I don’t quite know why the Chinese so enjoy climbing mountains, but it just seems to be a matter of course. The Chinese seem to view mountain climbing as one of the most standard ways of touring an area or spending the weekend. It’s often an activity for the entire family, as well. The elderly as well as the very young all climb the mountain. To be fair, the mountains in China usually all have stairs or paved pathways, but they are nonetheless mountains stairs and pathways. Before my semester is up, I will probably be back at 香山 sooner or later.
Well, I hope this has caught you up on my life to date. I hope to be able to fill in a few gaps soon, as well as keep this more updated.
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