Okay that’s not the topic of my post, I’m just recognizing that today marks the 89th (I think) anniversary of the end of the First World War, though in America it is only known as Veteran’s Day. Celebrate accordingly.
I thought I’d take a break from waxing intellectual/being an amateur social critic and let you folks know a bit more about my day to day life stuff. A few weeks ago I made a list of things I would like to do before leaving Hangzhou. It included, among other things, the bike around West Lake, a trip to a nice teahouse, the night market, an antiques market, a trip to a specific park, and a weekend trip to Suzhou. I’ve been gradually making my way through the list, and have taken care of a few things this weekend.
On Friday I went out to dinner by myself to a café/lounge in the West part of town, had a really nice salad and sat for a couple hours reading and having a drink. Later I met up with Jingbo whom I promised about six weeks ago I’d out to a bar with (I haven’t had any big nights out since). We went to a place called Paradise Bar that was less dark and crowded than some of the bars I’ve been to and had a nice live band. Turned out some of our classmates were there, and at one point in the evening we had about half the program in the bar. Through the night at two different bars, I managed to get free drinks from the bartenders, not sure if they were flirting or if we had translation problems, because as my friend Diana says, Asians don’t tend to make math mistakes: first I ordered a drink that should have cost me 22 kuai, handed the bartender 30 kuai and got back 28. Later Jingbo ordered (and paid for) a shot and a beer, and I ordered (and paid for) a beer, but two shots appeared on the bar. I shrugged, took the shot, and left quickly in case it wasn’t for me. I should mention that this kind of a bar-hopping night is really not part of my day to day life, but lots of fun on occasion.
Saturday I managed to get a large group together to go to Hangzhou’s famous Qingteng Teahouse, which was the perfect place to while away a Saturday afternoon without sitting around the dorm watching movies. The Qingteng Teahouse is gorgeous, with walk-through rock gardens, paper screens and traditional Chinese music performances. Chinese teahouses are places to congregate with friends to drink infinitely refillable tea, snack on food from a buffet included with the tea, and play cards or games or just relax and socialize for several hours. Each tea, it seems, has its own protocol and tea set: some came in covered cups to which the water was added directly, some came with small teapots and matching cups. I first ordered a Ginseng Wulong (Oolong) tea, which has a ridiculously complicated ritual: I received a wooden box, on which were placed a teapot slightly larger than a ping pong ball, a similarly sized empty pitcher, and two ceramic teacups, one of which was shaped like a tall shotglass and the other like a small bowl. The procedure is to pour the tea into the jug, then as you want to drink, pour some into the tall glass, put the small glass upside down on top, and then flip the whole thing over, carefully remove the taller glass and drink. When you run out of water you refill the teapot and start over.
It was all very cute and all, but I didn’t quite understand the point of the whole thing (except the part about pouring from the pot to the jug: you really don’t want that tea to steep too long: the ginseng was STRONG). In fact it was a little too strong for me, so I switched to a nice green tea, which came in a covered teacup. The only procedure for this one makes immediate sense to me: as you drink you do not remove the lid, but instead set is slightly askew in the cup, to allow the water through while trapping the tea leaves inside, thus eliminating the frustrating ritual of waiting for most of the leaves to settle, constantly spitting out the floaters, and doing the whole thing again when you refill the water.
Because three of my four classes meet on Monday, every weekend I have to prepare for several classes, and often write papers for my one on one or short essays for literature (the big essays are due on Fridays). This weekend I read for my literature class (“My Father’s Sickness”, by Chinese Modern Lit pioneer Lu Xun; imagine English literature was continuously written in Chaucer’s English, despite changes in the spoken form, and then somewhere around the start of the 20th century someone wrote something closer to the modern form, but with lots of Middle English influences. Now imagine you don’t really read English well. That’s what I’m up against.), read an article for my newspaper class (Darfur; this should be fun, as my professor, though great, always seems to have a very narrow view of world politics and the state of China in the world), and looked over a reading for my one-on-one. I have to familiarize myself with the contents, learn a few key terms, and memorize verbatim two sentences. Don’t ask me why, it’s just something we have to do every class. Unfortunately, the mark of good Chinese writing is writing extravagantly long sentences, and my teacher is a good writer. It’s too bad Faulkner didn’t speak Mandarin, is all I can say. I also have to study some vocab for dictation quizzes in both classes tomorrow.
This afternoon I’m going to get away from campus a bit and head to an antiques market with Xueqin. I’m sure they haven’t got too much authentically antique, which I probably couldn’t take home anyway, but it’ll be fun to have a look around, and maybe I’ll find some good Cultural Revolution memorabilia.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Friday, November 9, 2007
Measuring Up
I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while, I haven’t really been up to much of note this week, and the most exciting thing I did was go out to eat really good Italian food for a friend’s birthday. Since that has very little to do with China, I felt a full account was unnecessary.
I thought I’d take some time to write a bit about Chinese language, as it’s what I’m studying here and therefore what I spend a lot of time thinking about. So here’s my primer on Chinese measure words, or “amount words” as they are called in Chinese. Measure words are not entirely foreign to English speakers: we wear a pair of pants, buy a head of lettuce, watch a set of television and discuss an item or article of business. We also have the ones that actually indicate quantity, such as pound, bouquet, bale, bunch, cup, bag, dozen, etc. In Chinese, however, any time you quantify a noun, you need to use a measure word. Though the general word “ge” will work for most things that don’t have a particular word assigned, there are more specific words assigned to various types of items. Many are concrete, like a cup of coffee or an envelope of letter or a gram of rice. But there are also more abstract ones, for example, “ben” is for things books and things that are bound, “zhang” is for things that are flat like paper, pictures and tables, and “liang” is for vehicles.
There is generally a rule governing when to use what measure word, whether or not is immediately obvious. For instance, the word “tiao” applies to fish, pants, roads, string and rivers (things that are longer than they are wide). Much like English, “jian” applies to clothing like shirts and jackets, as well as business or tasks, and means “item” or “article”. “Ke” is used for teeth, pearls, stars and, by extension, satellites. The rule for that one is things that are small and round.
Sometimes looking at a list of items a word quantifies raises more questions than it answers, and it often helps to look at the meaning of the word itself. Perhaps my favorite is “ba”; the list of words to use with “ba” includes sugar, knives, brooms and hair; ba means “to grasp”, and so measures things that come in handfuls or things with handles. “tai” means stage, platform or station, and measures performances, engines and computers. Still others seem obscure but are actually quite literal. The word “chuan” means to conspire or gang up, or to run about from place to place, among several other unrelated meanings. It is also a measure word for kebabs and keyrings. Turns out the original meaning of the word is “to string together”, and the character 串is a pictograph.
Some measure words are ridiculously practical and translate poorly, for instance there is one for regularly scheduled public transportation, one for instances, and one for a class or field of study (that’s a semester-long class, not to be confused with one sitting of class, which is measured by a different word).
So the next time you put on an article of jacket and get in a vehicle of car to drive down a length of road to go to a house of restaurant and buy several plates of food, just be glad you’re not doing it in Chinese.
I thought I’d take some time to write a bit about Chinese language, as it’s what I’m studying here and therefore what I spend a lot of time thinking about. So here’s my primer on Chinese measure words, or “amount words” as they are called in Chinese. Measure words are not entirely foreign to English speakers: we wear a pair of pants, buy a head of lettuce, watch a set of television and discuss an item or article of business. We also have the ones that actually indicate quantity, such as pound, bouquet, bale, bunch, cup, bag, dozen, etc. In Chinese, however, any time you quantify a noun, you need to use a measure word. Though the general word “ge” will work for most things that don’t have a particular word assigned, there are more specific words assigned to various types of items. Many are concrete, like a cup of coffee or an envelope of letter or a gram of rice. But there are also more abstract ones, for example, “ben” is for things books and things that are bound, “zhang” is for things that are flat like paper, pictures and tables, and “liang” is for vehicles.
There is generally a rule governing when to use what measure word, whether or not is immediately obvious. For instance, the word “tiao” applies to fish, pants, roads, string and rivers (things that are longer than they are wide). Much like English, “jian” applies to clothing like shirts and jackets, as well as business or tasks, and means “item” or “article”. “Ke” is used for teeth, pearls, stars and, by extension, satellites. The rule for that one is things that are small and round.
Sometimes looking at a list of items a word quantifies raises more questions than it answers, and it often helps to look at the meaning of the word itself. Perhaps my favorite is “ba”; the list of words to use with “ba” includes sugar, knives, brooms and hair; ba means “to grasp”, and so measures things that come in handfuls or things with handles. “tai” means stage, platform or station, and measures performances, engines and computers. Still others seem obscure but are actually quite literal. The word “chuan” means to conspire or gang up, or to run about from place to place, among several other unrelated meanings. It is also a measure word for kebabs and keyrings. Turns out the original meaning of the word is “to string together”, and the character 串is a pictograph.
Some measure words are ridiculously practical and translate poorly, for instance there is one for regularly scheduled public transportation, one for instances, and one for a class or field of study (that’s a semester-long class, not to be confused with one sitting of class, which is measured by a different word).
So the next time you put on an article of jacket and get in a vehicle of car to drive down a length of road to go to a house of restaurant and buy several plates of food, just be glad you’re not doing it in Chinese.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
West Lake
I’d like to take some time to tell you all a bit about the city I am in. Hangzhou is about a three hour drive inland from Shanghai, the capital of Zhejiang province and home to about 6.5 million people (I’m not sure how the census works here; like any Chinese city there are lots of unregistered workers who are officially country peasants and travel home every new year). The city has been in continuous existence for over 2200 years, and was once the home to the emperors of the Southern Song dynasty. Hangzhou has long been an exporter of tea and silk. Marco Polo famously declared it to be the most beautiful city in the world, and though he embellished his descriptions somewhat, it is still known today as a city of great beauty.
Of course, due to rapid modernization and the utilitarian lack of architectural aesthetic, most of this beauty remains concentrated around West Lake, the landmark which truly sets Hangzhou apart. Located in the Central, Southern part of the city and backing up against the mountains that take up Hangzhou’s Southwestern edge, the lake was once home to the emperors, courtiers and merchants who held Hangzhou’s wealth. Today the Eastern bank holds a paved tourist walkway with benches, pavilions, teahouses, tour boat docks, etc. Across the street are Starbucks, Dairy Queen, and several other Western Chains and high-priced international restaurants. This part is also home to the Xihu Tiandi, roughly “West Lake Heavenly Place”, a park-like set of sidewalks that sits on the lake and houses upscale restaurants and bars, and yet another Starbucks. On weekends I like to wander through the pedestrian parks, watching old men argue or listening to street performers with traditional instruments.
I hadn’t spent much time along the other parts of the lake, and this weekend the weather was spectacular, so I decided to change that, partly because my literature class is reading a story set in 1920s Hangzhou and centered mainly around West Lake. On Saturday I rode my bike (yes, I used the pedals, not the battery) around the lake. I started off going over a bridge and tree-lined road to an island in the Northern part of the lake, which is home to several historic villas and a Chinese restaurant called Louwailou that has been around for over a century and is mentioned in the story. I then went on to the street that runs along the North shore, which was beautiful and lined by parks along the lake, and fancy hotels along the other side. There are two artificially constructed causeways that go down the West side of the lake, but one is pedestrian only, so I biked the beautiful Yanggongdi, home to more historic villas and parks and museums. Around the South end I passed the pagoda I visited several weeks ago, and then on to Nanshan Lu and the wide sidewalks I’d walked so many times. Along the way I saw lots of couples posing for wedding photos (a big part of Chinese weddings is the photos, taken in different scenic locations and in traditional as well as modern outfits). One pavilion had at least four couples, just standing around in their wedding garb. The ride was a great way to get outside for the morning, and I discovered some very pretty looking parks I’d like to go back and visit.
In all, I was left with a great sense of mixing the old with the new; with the exception of the smorgasbord of brand-name store fronts, which are presented tastefully, West Lake preserves a sense of peaceful beauty, and even the boats are more picturesque than tacky, though I don’t anticipate getting on one any time soon. The lakefront is undeveloped except for the landscaping, and almost entirely public (there are a few villas and places like the pagoda that have entrance fees). I think my favorite thing to do is sit at a park bench or outdoor teahouse, casually perusing my Lonely Planet, reading or playing cards.
Of course, due to rapid modernization and the utilitarian lack of architectural aesthetic, most of this beauty remains concentrated around West Lake, the landmark which truly sets Hangzhou apart. Located in the Central, Southern part of the city and backing up against the mountains that take up Hangzhou’s Southwestern edge, the lake was once home to the emperors, courtiers and merchants who held Hangzhou’s wealth. Today the Eastern bank holds a paved tourist walkway with benches, pavilions, teahouses, tour boat docks, etc. Across the street are Starbucks, Dairy Queen, and several other Western Chains and high-priced international restaurants. This part is also home to the Xihu Tiandi, roughly “West Lake Heavenly Place”, a park-like set of sidewalks that sits on the lake and houses upscale restaurants and bars, and yet another Starbucks. On weekends I like to wander through the pedestrian parks, watching old men argue or listening to street performers with traditional instruments.
I hadn’t spent much time along the other parts of the lake, and this weekend the weather was spectacular, so I decided to change that, partly because my literature class is reading a story set in 1920s Hangzhou and centered mainly around West Lake. On Saturday I rode my bike (yes, I used the pedals, not the battery) around the lake. I started off going over a bridge and tree-lined road to an island in the Northern part of the lake, which is home to several historic villas and a Chinese restaurant called Louwailou that has been around for over a century and is mentioned in the story. I then went on to the street that runs along the North shore, which was beautiful and lined by parks along the lake, and fancy hotels along the other side. There are two artificially constructed causeways that go down the West side of the lake, but one is pedestrian only, so I biked the beautiful Yanggongdi, home to more historic villas and parks and museums. Around the South end I passed the pagoda I visited several weeks ago, and then on to Nanshan Lu and the wide sidewalks I’d walked so many times. Along the way I saw lots of couples posing for wedding photos (a big part of Chinese weddings is the photos, taken in different scenic locations and in traditional as well as modern outfits). One pavilion had at least four couples, just standing around in their wedding garb. The ride was a great way to get outside for the morning, and I discovered some very pretty looking parks I’d like to go back and visit.
In all, I was left with a great sense of mixing the old with the new; with the exception of the smorgasbord of brand-name store fronts, which are presented tastefully, West Lake preserves a sense of peaceful beauty, and even the boats are more picturesque than tacky, though I don’t anticipate getting on one any time soon. The lakefront is undeveloped except for the landscaping, and almost entirely public (there are a few villas and places like the pagoda that have entrance fees). I think my favorite thing to do is sit at a park bench or outdoor teahouse, casually perusing my Lonely Planet, reading or playing cards.
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