However, this last event has changed the way I look at promises made by Chinese people forever. While searching for a new apartment, I stumbled upon a little 50sqm gem right between 东四十条 Dongsishitiao and 东直门 Dongzhimen. I asked the agent whether there was a couch and other furniture included, and he replied, “Yes, of course.” The next day I went in to sign the contract, and asked the landlady when she could move a couch in.

She responded, aghast, “I never said there would be a couch!”
“But the agent told me that you would provide one? Where am I going to sit?”
The bickering continues for several minutes. To which the agent interjects and says, “I will buy you a couch, okay?”

My situation was complicated. I was originally leaving China, but received a job offer that would keep me here for a little longer. By the time I realised I should find a new place before I went home, the pressure was on to find a new place and move everything in in less than 72 hours (yes, it’s possible). Thus, I signed the contract, moved in, took his word, and left for two weeks—in theory giving the agent ample time to secure the right couch.

I return to China and call him after settling in. ”Oh, hi,“ he begins, “I will work on it, it’s been busy here, I’ll get back to you later this week.”
He did not.
I called him on Friday, and asked, “So…how’s the couch search coming along?” He said he needed some extra time. Fine.
No word from him all weekend. Then I call six times on Monday and he does not pick up. I call him ten times on Tuesday, then switch phones and call. He picks up immediately. I say, “Why are you ignoring my calls? Do you not have any respect?” To which he responds, “Hello? HELLO?! Hello?” And hangs up on me. I proceed to frantically call him back-to-back-to-back until he finally turns his phone off.

Consider this lesson learned.

Karma will get him back, and I may expedite that process through one or more of the following:

• Post his number on personal ads as a beautiful single Chinese woman wanting to marry a rich, white male;
• Advertise “special services” with his phone number;
• Make stickers advertising the purchasing of your unwanted pharmaceutical drugs and post them everywhere ;
• Or find out where he works and punch him in the face

Yes, I am working with limited resources here (his phone number, his name), but if the 人肉搜索 human flesh search engine has shown me anything, the power of Google can never be underestimated.

Beijing has an incredible response rate to snow. Immediately after the snow lets up, plows make their way down major roads and avenues to prevent traffic catastrophe (as we all know how bad traffic already is in Beijing); people are out on the streets with 13-foot-long sticks and shaking them in trees; and, most interestingly, teams of people are shoveling snow into trucks and carts. Those who usually collect garbage on the streets are instead collecting snow. Now my biggest question is–where do they take the snow?

One day in November, when only 2 elevators in my 40-storeyed apartment worked (which is often the case), I decided again that descending 11 flights of stairs is not a strain. However, when I reached the dark stairwell around floor 2, I almost stomped into a  huge pile of shit.

Seriously? You’re almost home. I understand the urgency associated with having to wait for the elevator, but–excuse my description–if it was still a recognizable mass, it really couldn’t have been that bad, could it? And let’s not mention the time in Harbin when I saw a grown woman crouching at a bus stop during rush hour doing you-know-what. Oops, I just did.

Public urination and defecation should really be censured and discouraged. If not by the government, then at least by passersby who I am sure find it just as uncomfortable to watch as I do. This applies to other nasty habits that Chinese people exhibit, from public spitting to cutting in line to smoking inside the elevator. It’s not Western cultural imperialism, it’s basic respect for other people.

Though on the positive side, their knowing no limits means they can replicate sections the Great Wall in chocolate and likely pull it off in a kitsch-tastic manner , and like my coworker demonstrated earlier this week, they can come into work immediately after the last final exam of their undergrad career. They can erect buildings with cunning speed, they can they persist and maintain positivity through tumultuous times, all while remaining relatively modest about their achievements.

Two days ago I bought my one-way return flight back to China. In the past week or so, I got offered a job that promises professional development and is challenging. So I accepted. Looks like I’m in for another year.

While I am ready and excited to start the next chapter of my life, a part of me is sad to leave China. Luckily, once I get home I’ll have more time for myself (and graduate school applications!!), for photography, for fast and uncensored internet, for all the other things I enjoy in life.

One thing I’ll miss about China: women in pajamas and hair curlers on a
public street playing with dogs (and naturally with 10+ people
crowded around taking pictures and gossiping)

While many societies promote equal political and social rights for women (China being one of them), it’s rare to see it fully implemented in practice. This entry is about when I’ve received some sort of discrimination based on my gender at the pool. I don’t have any specific conclusions or policy recommendations; this is just a story of my life in China.

When I was studying in Harbin last year, I often went to Heilongjiang University’s pool. Every time I went, I stuck out as one of the fastest swimmers in the pool. I befriended the lifeguards there, who welcomed my presence every time with a smile and a wave. One lifeguard, 李 (Li), in his late 40s, single, would often swim with me and race me. He always tried to invite me out to another pool he worked at during his off days from Heilongjiang University, though due to the distance and time constraints, I never made it out.

In order to let him know when I’d be heading to the pool (we became swimming partners), he took my mobile number. Sometimes I received texts that were written to be mass forwarded to friends–ones that wished health and happiness, success in life, and happy holidays. Eventually, he asked me to have a meal with him. I agreed, seeing no problem–friends have meals together, too. We dined, and afterward he insisted he show me his shabby apartment, adorned with tacky posters and trinkets collected from his many years in Harbin. He had a medal and trophy case, for the many times he’s won swim races. We took a photo together and I left. Simple as that.

At one point, he started telling me he loved me, that he wish he could be with me, lamenting the age difference being the only barrier to our being together. I cut off communications then. And then that’s when he would call and text nonstop. I felt sorry for 老李, but never responded. How did the concept of friendship become “love” so fast?

*    *    *

Once I moved to Beijing, I got a gym membership and spent most of my gym time in the pool. Again, the lifeguards immediately noticed me, smiled whenever I came, asked me how I was, and suggested workouts for me. Then, over time, one lifeguard, 老田 (Laotian), would introduce me to other swimmers.

One time, a swimmer, 王 (Wang), and I had a conversation:

Him: 我怕移民到美国，因为我怕受到歧视。I am scared of immigrating to the U.S., because I am scared of discrimination against me because I am Chinese.
Me: 这是免不了的，无论在哪国家，社会不是完全平等的，有些人会在某方面（社会地位、职业、性别等）受到歧视。But this is unavoidable. Regardless of what country you live in, society is not completely equal, you will face discrimination in some respect (be it social status, your profession, your gender, etc).
Him: 在中国我很满意因为我不受到歧视，你在中国应该没问题吧？不会受到歧视？I am happy to live in China because I am not discriminated against. You shouldn’t have any problem here either, right?

I went on to tell him that, in fact, China is a very discriminating place. He did not believe me, so I started giving examples. First, I told him that if I don’t speak Chinese absolutely fluently, I can be marked as an outsider, a non-Chinese. Secondly, I told him that if I were not a woman, but a man, that swam like I did in the pool, he would not have even noticed me. And that’s not even touching on the many other ways women and foreigners are discriminated against in China. His eyes showed a glimpse of understanding, though he never conceded to my argument.

*    *    *

While the topic of “discrimination” is worthy of many posts and debates, how it has affected me personally led me to wonder whether I would have gone without this sort of attention if I were male. I wouldn’t be watched and pointed out to every time I swam when the lifeguard(s) I knew were on duty. I wouldn’t have to defend my right to ride a red and black road bike as opposed to the low bar, pastel-colored, single-gear bikes. Any male friend who swam well has never gotten the kind of attention I have, but is that a result of Chinese females being less forward and confrontational? Are men better swimmers than most women?

Is the attention negative? Never. These men have all been incredibly nice and well-meaning. However, their professions of love, the fact that I cannot swim in peace, and the need to worry about how to turn someone that I might have to see every day down is more than I bargained for when I signed up for the gym.

Xinjiang has been under political contestation since the late eighteenth century, when the Qing reconquered the area. Political unrest became increasingly prominent since the late-1800s and sporadically manifests into violent opposition, especially during the late-1980s and early-1990s.  From the 1820s to the 1870s, the Uyghurs posed a significant challenge to Qing conquests in the area until the Qing re-conquered the majority of the land.   In 1884, the Manchu Qing empire brought Xinjiang under its control and incorporated it into the Chinese empire. The Manchus appointed hereditary princes and staffed local ethnicities, but never exercised much more than minimal authority in the area.  After the dissolution of the Qing dynasty, neither Uyghurs nor Chinese ruled Xinjiang. The Soviet Union exercised some influence in the area.  In the beginning of the twentieth century, sporadic violent uprisings occurred, but none that made a serious impact on the Chinese state.

The first documented incidents of violent separatist activity on behalf of the Uyghurs occurred between 1932–33, when ethnically Chinese Muslims and Uyghurs attempted to separate from the Chinese state and temporarily established an East Turkistan Republic. However, this resistance was crushed by February 1934, when the Chinese Nationalists (Guomingdang, or GMD) reestablished control over in the area.  In 1944, Uyghurs attempted once again  to rebel against the Chinese state.  Uyghurs established an “East Turkistan Republic,” which lasted until the Chinese Communist Party re-conquered the area in 1949. These sporadic violent outbursts that were aimed at establishing Turkish republics, James Millward argues, reflected “more the general anarchy of the warlord period  (1916–1928) and the weight of Soviet influence than any…Islamic or even ethnonationalist motivation.”

By 1949, the GMD were ousted from control and the People’s Republic of China (PRC) tried to quell and control Uyghur uprisings, and were largely successful. The PRC did not actively promote ethnically oriented policies towards the Uyghurs early on, but by the Great Leap Forward (1958–61) policies called for rapid cultural homogenization, and as many as 60,000 Uyghurs had been displaced. PRC policies began to have an assimilationist undertone, ethnicity was deemed an obstacle to progress, and Han in-migration increased.   Assimilationist and intolerant attitudes towards non-Hans increased throughout the 1960s and became the most extreme during the Cultural Revolution (1966–76).

After Mao Zedong’s reign over China ended in 1976, Deng Xiaoping relaxed the assimilationist aspects of cultural policy and brought more non-Hans back into government positions. This relaxation spurred demonstrations from the Uyghurs against the PRC. Tensions escalated and climaxed with several riots and protests in the 1990s. For example, a major Islamic-inspired insurrection in Baren county that was originally against family planning, weapons testing, and oil exploitation morphed into a violent uprising “with calls for ‘jihad’ and the overthrow of communism.”  Shortly after, China reacted with a crackdown on political activity with “Strike Hard” campaigns aimed at sweeping up political infidels.

Uyghur unrest resurfaced in the form of violent outbreaks in the 1990s, and prompted China to initiate its “Strike Hard” campaign in April 1996.   Their Islamic faith has put Uyghurs at odds with the Chinese government. Their religion has also made them susceptible to being labeled as religious terrorists who want to secede from China and establish an independent Islamic state called East Turkistan.

Strangely, prior to 2001, the Chinese state gave little lip service to anything related to East Turkistan. Anyone who even used the term could be subject to arrest.  The September 11, 2001 (9/11) terrorist attacks on several United States targets altered Chinese domestic and foreign policy, and reinvigorated China’s drive to counter terrorist, separatist, and splittist movements within and around its borders. In 2002, both the United States and the United Nations placed an organization known as the East Turkistan Islamic Movement (ETIM), a radical militant organization that uses violence to try to establish a separate Turkic republic, on the international terrorist watch list.  Post-9/11 policies and strategies are more widely publicized in both national and international media than those of the 1990s.

Sources:
Graham E. Fuller and S. Frederick Starr, The Xinjiang Problem (Baltimore, Maryland: Central Asia-Caucasus Institute at John Hopkins University, 2004)
Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region Bureau of Statistics, Xinjiang Tongji Nianjian, 2001 (Xinjiang statistical yearbook, 2001) (Beijing: China Statistics Press, 2001)
Information Office of the State Council Of the People’s Republic of China, White Paper: History and Development of Xinjiang, May 2003, Beijing, http://www.china.org.cn/e-white/20030526/
Yongjiu Gao and Shangzhe Liu, “Lun ‘dongtu’ kongbu nuli dui guojia liyi de weixie yu pohuai” [On the "East Turkistan" terrorist forces in the national interests and the threat of destruction], Xinjiang shehui kexue [Social Sciences in Xinjiang] (May 2005)
Christian Tyler, China’s Wild West: The Taming of Xinjiang (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 2004)
James Millward, “Violent Separatism in Xinjiang: A Critical Assessment,” Policy Paper 6 (Washington, D.C.: East West Center Washington, 2004)
David Wang, The East Turkistan Movement in Xinjiang: A Chinese Potential Source of Instability? EAI Background Brief No.7, East Asian Institute, (Singapore: National University of Singapore, 1998)
Gardner Bovingdon, “Autonomy in Xinjiang: Han Nationalist Imperatives and Uyghur Discontent,” Policy Paper 11
(Washington, D.C.: East West Center Washington, 2005)
Dewardric L. McNeal, China’s relations with Central Asian states and problems with terrorism CRS report for Congress, RL31213. (Washington, D.C.: Congressional Research Service, Library of Congress, 2002)

While Twitter has provided breaking, up-to-the-minute news about what’s going on in Iran, is the source to be trusted? You have to wonder who on the “other side” is reporting. There have been many false reports of protest traps, Mousavi under house arrest, and election results . Additionally, there has also been speculation that Iranian hardliner elites are manipulating the protests to “hoist themselves back into power.” Just like any other news source, you cannot take what you read at face value.

What Twitter, YouTube, and 24-hour news syndicates have proven, though, is that media is very saturated in the average computer-user’s life. Thus, the repeated news stories from citizen journalists, bloggers, and reporters lead us to believe that much more is happening in Tehran than what may actually be transpiring. Additionally, there has been an uneven focus on the students and protestors, who by no means represent the majority political sentiment in Iran, yet many outside the country believe that sweeping political change (probably via Mousavi) is on the verge of dawning. That is not to say that there isn’t balanced news. For example, George Friedman at STRATFOR has released “The Iranian Election and the Revolution Test,” and provides solid analysis of the realities in Iran.

Second, I appeal to anyone with a green icon on their Twitter account to explain to me a) why they did that, b) who they support, c) why they support him, and most importantly, d) to name one policy issue of the candidate in question. Why? Because I believe that people are conflating election freedom with who we feel we (as the West) want as President of Iran. It’s turned into an anyone-but-Ahmedinejad mindset. We in the West hopelessly believe that radical changes will occur once Mousavi is given the seat as President.

Third, while there are some parallels between the 1989 Tiananmen Square incident in China and what’s currently unfolding in Tehran, it is not the 2009 [Twitter] Tiananmen. Yes, both states have cracked down on foreign and domestic media, both states have turned against their own citizens, both states have citizens that were frustrated and muffled by the current regime. Fundamental differences also exist between the two acts of mass citizen action, and although I don’t agree completely with this post, it does provide some sound reasons on why Tehran 2009 cannot be equated with Tiananmen.

Don’t get me wrong–from what I know, the election results do seem fraudulent. What the Iranian government is doing to its people is despicable, and a desperate attempt to protect the status quo. I do sympathize with the protesters–I fear for their safety and for their political freedom. But I also fear that those of us outside of Iran are looking at the situation with colored glasses, as well.

UPDATE (26 June 2009)
I happened upon this Slate article by Daniel Byman, “Is Iran ripe for revolution?” which provides excellent analysis on the political situation in Iran.

Him: 你的美国朋友还在外地吗？你的同屋. Is your American friend still out of town? Your roommate.
Me: 嗯。Yes.
Him: 我这边有朋友来看我，有点挤，能不能在你那住个晚上？方便吗？I have friends visiting and staying with me, so it’s a little cramped for space, can I stay at your place tonight? Is that convenient for you?
Me: 什么？？What??
Him: 方便在你那过个晚上？Is it convenient to spend the night at your place?
Me: 不方便。No, it’s not convenient.

Why do you [Chinese] men think that’s okay? Why do you have to use sneaky tactics like calling me from another phone number? Isn’t it clear that when I don’t pick up your calls, I don’t want to speak to you? Why do you have to be a creeper and ask me if my roommate is home? If your friends are there to see you, why don’t you spend time with them instead of trying to spend the night elsewhere? You brought it onto yourself inviting more friends than your apartment can handle. Deal with it.

Cabbie: How old are you?
Me: 23.
Cabbie: And you’re not married yet?
Me: I don’t even have a boyfriend.
Cabbie: You don’t even have a boyfriend?!? I think it’s time you put less focus on your work life and focus on finding a husband and settling down. You should let the man take care of everything, then you can stay home and relax. How great would that be?
Me: Actually….
Cabbie: [continues to ramble on about men being breadwinners, women being homemakers]

Cabbie: You know why women would be bad doctors? Because they’re too emotional. Let me give you an example. A woman has breast cancer, goes into a woman doctor. This woman doctor may think to herself, “I want to let this woman keep as much of her womanly features as she can, because I know it is important to her identity as a woman. Thus, I’ll try to remove as little breast tissue as I can.” Men? They’re pragmatic. They think, “Cancer is bad, I will remove any remnant of cancer, regardless of what it takes.” Then just slice off everything. See? Then you never know, cancer may just come right back if a women operated.

Actually, I should have titled it “Being Lectured by a Misogynist Nanjing Cabbie,” because I didn’t really converse with him. It was more him talking at me than with me.