Dr. Drummond in Beibei

The tools of Christmas Eve “traditions"

2007-01-04T08:18:00.000-08:00

As we prepare to leave Beibei, I would like to update two earlier reports. The University of Florida made our trip to China possible by granting me a semester of academic leave. The purpose of academic leave is to learn, and as these amendments demonstrate; learning continues.

Earlier I reported that I had seen no evidence of dog as food. To the contrary, people in China seem to love their dogs as pets. As we were leaving the metropolitan city of Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province, our bus passed a motorcycle (a common form of taxi and transport) that had the skinned, market-readu carcasses of three dogs on the back. So, though not common, dog is still a food to some folks in some regions.

Two weeks ago I commented on the sense of security we feel here. Last night, someone cut the chain of the gate into our apartment courtyard and then cut the chain on the doors into our apartment building. They went to the third floor where they found a door that had not been locked (such is the sense of security). Two cell phones and a pair of jeans were stolen. The wife of the couple in the apartment heard the intruders and her screams chased them off. This morning we had police all over the place. This afternoon a new, stronger door to the apartment building was installed. Fortunately, no one was hurt. Our views concerning security have changed.

A final note: Some manifestations of a good-old American style, commercial Christmas have appeared in Beibei. One of my students said that it is something that has happened in the past five years and that it is just an excuse for the merchants to sell more stuff. Since China is predominately non-Christian, the original meaning of Christmas is totally lost, giving rise to the need for local traditions. One “tradition” of this holiday is to gather on Christmas Eve in the city square and hit one another with inflatable plastic toy bats, swords, and hammers [see photo]. This, we are told, is an old American tradition. So, Americans, get your Chinese made bats at the local K-Mart and have a gay old time hitting one another on Christmas Eve.

Editor's note: Dr. Drummond has returned from Beibei and you are encouraged to ask him about his adventures, in person!!

The local market near our apartment

2006-12-21T05:50:00.000-08:00

Markets

2006-12-21T05:49:00.000-08:00

Adam Smith, generally considered to be the father of economic thought, was mystified by the operation of markets. How could they be so efficient without some sort of managerial oversight? Smith concluded that markets were coordinated by the “propensity in human nature…to truck, barter, and exchange.” That is, to engage in commerce is just as much a part of the human experience as to engage in survival or reproduction.
Each Thanksgiving we celebrate the bountiful harvest of almost 500 years ago when the first successful colonists arrived in the “new” world. As I walk the streets of Beibei, I frequently wonder what it looked like five thousand years ago as the early inhabitants of this river valley pursued their “propensity…to truck, barter, and exchange.” My initial guess is that not much has changed.
Economists who work in the field of economic development have used a variety of terms to refer to levels of development. Probably the least value-laden construct is first world, second world, and third world. In the first world, most economic activity involves survival—primarily hunting, gathering, or agricultural pursuits. Most production is for self-sufficiency and there is little exchange among families. In the second world, an agricultural surplus supports the rise of non-producers such as priests, teachers, soldiers, and chiefs. Exchange between the producers and the non-producers becomes essential, and local markets develop. In the third world there is a high level of work specialization with relatively few food producers and a highly developed system of exchange. In a politically correct analysis, it is neither good nor bad to live in the first or third world—just different.
One of the fascinating things about life in Beibei is that we truck, barter, and exchange in all three worlds simultaneously. Many Chinese still live in the rural, isolated, agrarianism of the first world. These are people who will die within walking distance of where they were born. More often than not, they will die during their first few years of life from disease or hunger. The first world is rapidly vanishing in China as the infrastructure of transportation, health care, and electricity reach into the vast, isolated interior regions. In Beibei, it is not uncommon to see people who have literally walked (or floated) out of the first world into the urban milieu of the second world.
The most common interfaces of the first and second worlds are the informal produce markets that are found everywhere. Here you find merchants from the most humble to the very sophisticated. It is not uncommon to see a woman who has walked into town with one or two handfuls of surplus green onions trying to sell them for a few pennies [see photo]. She could never sell them for enough to pay for a bus fare back to the isolated spot that is home. What might she buy? Maybe some cooking oil or some cloth—things that are not easily produced in even the most self-sufficient household.
We live in an apartment complex of more than 500 units. Every morning vendors from the first world start laying out their fresh produce on the cement walkways around the central basketball court and playground. What is available follows the seasons—right now there are lots of cabbages that are as large as a basketball, peppers that will blow the roof off your head, and a type of radish that is bigger than a big carrot. Many vendors carry a crude balance beam to weigh your purchase. Women (in most cases) come down to this area in the morning to buy the day’s meals—no produce is stored at home as it is purchased and consumed the same day. By noon, the shopping is over and the vendors have started their long journey home, arriving in time to harvest another handful of green onions for tomorrow’s market.
Just around the corner from the basketball court, maybe thirty yards away, is a second world market. A row of shops along the road includes two green grocers who sell much of the same stuff as the street vendors, but with more selection, higher prices, and longer hours. There is a butcher with today’s meat proudly arranged on a wood table or hanging from a hook overhead. The meat, of course, is neither refrigerated nor covered. It is up to the buyer to get the freshest cut (caveat emptor). In addition to the fresh shops there is one small grocery store that sells rice, noodles, cooking oil, and other packaged goods such as Crest toothpaste. Between the street vendors and the small shops, the residents of our apartment complex are able to buy all of the ingredients of their day-to-day existence.
For a third world market one must go to downtown Beibei (10 minutes by bus) to a Chinese retail chain called CBEST. There one finds full lines of clothing, bedding, appliances, cosmetics, and a supermarket. In the supermarket you can buy all sorts of packaged goods like crackers, breakfast cereals, candy, paper plates, clothes pins, and cleaning products. In the fresh fish department you can select your fish from those swimming around in a tank and have it cleaned before your eyes. Last month we were able to buy the quintessential American food—peanut butter (we got Skippy crunchy).
There you have it—from the first world to the third in a matter of minutes: from a handful of green onions carried in from a nearby small farm to a plastic jar of Skippy peanut butter produced in China by Unilever, an Anglo-Dutch transnational conglomerate. The growing popularity of “farmers’ markets” in the U.S. suggests a certain nostalgia by some who live in the third world for the benefits of the first and second worlds past. Here in Beibei, we have it all—take your pick. But, be willing to truck, barter, and exchange.

Campus police in Beibei. Note what is missing.

2006-12-06T06:42:00.001-08:00

Security And Honesty In Beibei And Beyond

2006-12-06T06:42:00.000-08:00

Security

A frequent question that is asked of us as we live in Beibei is “are you safe and secure?” Travel to and living in a new, different place always involves a certain element of insecurity. The unknown is inherently insecure, and being plunked down in the middle of Beibei certainly involved a lot of unknowns several months ago. By now, most of those unknowns are knowns and most of the initial feelings of insecurity have turned to feelings of security and familiarity.
My wife and I have traveled a lot, and as we do we like to venture off the beaten path followed by most tourists. Our behavior in China has been no different. Both in Beibei and elsewhere, we have usually shopped where the local people shop, traveled on the same buses they travel on, and eaten in the same restaurants they eat in. In so doing, we have developed a pretty good sense of what individual security is like in Beibei and other cities we have visited.
My wife and I walk around town and campus freely at any reasonable hour with absolutely no concerns. In Beibei, many streets and parts of campus are irregularly illuminated at night. We walk alone, and even when we venture into previously unexplored territory we have never felt threatened. We have been approached by the curious (and avoided by the fearful) but never in a malicious fashion. I have no concern at all about my wife walking alone on our local streets at night.
Our apartment is on the ground floor, hence there are bars on all of the windows—this is standard for most dwellings. We are a little special in that we are in a compound with a gate that is locked at 11pm and we have a night watchman (who probably sleeps more soundly than I do). Also, right out of our back window is a police sub-station. At night, the four or five city block apartment complex that we are in is patrolled by two police officers with a dog. The front door to our apartment, when locked, could be opened by any 7-year old with a Jack of Spades. Nonetheless, we have never had a known robbery attempt and usually leave the door unlocked. We certainly do not feel, nor have we had reason to feel, threatened.
On campus, things look a lot like a U.S. campus. There are guards at the gates to the campus [see photo]. They seem to let anything in, but check vehicles leaving. I presume this is to prevent the faculty, etc, from confiscating University property. On campus there are uniformed police who deal with bike accidents and other important issues. There are also plain clothes police. I like these guys—they are very friendly with the students and usually have a very visible ID around their neck that says something in Chinese characters and then “Police” in English. They pop up all over campus in a very unobtrusive way. When you think about it, it is really nice to have police around when you don’t need them; and, the fact that they are around is probably why you don’t need them. In police work, a good defense always trumps a good offence.
One of the real surprises here has been the absence of firearms on police, bank guards, and other uniformed civil servants. Most carry a night stick and that is it. In addition, I have not seen a single citizen with a firearm. Perhaps if neither side has them, neither side needs them in normal day to day police work.
We have found that when we are lost a good place to ask directions is at a bank because there is frequently someone there who speaks a little bit of English and they usually know their neighborhood. One day we went into a bank and asked for directions to the post office. The lone bank guard led us out of the bank, down the street for about a block, waited until the proper bus came along and then put us on the bus with instructions to the driver. Nice of him, but all of the time he was being kind to us the bank was left unguarded. One has to conclude that to him leaving the bank unguarded was less of a threat than having some poor lost Americans running wild in the community.

Honesty

With the exception of some aspects of the tourist industry, tipping is not practiced in China. In fact, we have been told that it is something of an insult. Early on, I left a little tip on a restaurant table only to have the owner chase me down the street and return my “forgotten” money.
Several days ago we were on an intercity bus. As we got off a nice passenger noted that I had left a piece of money on my seat (a $0.12 bill). He got it and gave it to my wife as we got off the bus. Again, and again, we see little things like this that reflect a very fundamental value of honesty. And we see fairness. All classes (this is not a “classless” society) treat one another fairly—we all wait in line and we are polite to one another (unfortunately, there are rare exceptions).
When you are in a country of 1.3 billion people, you are always living elbow-to-elbow, even out here in Beibei. One consequence of this is that wherever you are, there are 5, 10 or 15 other people. In this environment, everything seems to be participatory. On several occasions, merchants have tried to over-charge us only to have one or more local resident intervene on our behalf and talk the merchant down. It is evident that they don’t like to see anyone cheated—even “rich” Americans.
Is this a modern dream world? No way. Last week as we got off a bus in Chongqing a woman ostensibly tried to stuff an advertisement into my wife’s pocket—obviously a pickpocket. I got off the bus about three or four passengers later and the same woman tried to rip an umbrella from my backpack. She has a sore arm today. As this happened, a total stranger in the crowd saw her, grabbed her, chewed her out, and sent her on her way. Ordinary people here just don’t like to see ordinary people (even Americans, who obviously are not ordinary) treated unfairly. This is the only time we have been physically attacked while here, and it came to naught.
We have had an occasional cab driver try to rip us off (200 for a trip we know costs 50) and that sort of thing. As an obvious foreigner you expect that. But we have had twenty honest cab drivers who have bent over backwards to understand us and to help us along our way for every one that has tried to rip us off. I bet you can’t get those odds in New York City.
Speaking of which—my observations are based on our daily life in Beibei and brief visits to several large cities. It is my hope that Chinese visitors in Gainesville are treated with as much courtesy, honesty, and humility as we have received here. I am confident that life in Shanghai, Beijing, and other large cities is probably just as “rough” as life in Miami or New York City. Please help our visitors to Gainesville return to their countries with pleasant memories of the U.S. and its people, as we will return to the U.S. with pleasant memories of China and its people.

Daning River—a tributary of the Yangtze in the Three Gorges region

2006-12-06T06:38:00.000-08:00

Three Gorges

2006-12-06T06:37:00.000-08:00

One of the most popular tourist destinations in China is the Three Gorges on the Yangtze River. Since this adventure is practically in our back yard, we decided we had better do it before we left China. The usual tour is a three night voyage down the Yangtze on a river boat that passes through some spectacular scenery including three narrow gorges where the river passes through majestic canyons. While this is a leisurely trip thousands of tourists have taken for the sheer beauty of the journey, today it is an excursion that has an additional dimension—the Three Gorges Project.
In the 1920’s one of the poorest regions of the U.S. was the Southeast. Most of the population there were isolated, poor farmers who lived in conditions that we associate with the third world today. Most had no electricity, no indoor plumbing, and no access to markets, schools, or jobs. In the center of the region is the Tennessee River basin. The Tennessee River begins in northwestern Tennessee and flows south, parallel to the Appalachians, to Chattanooga in southeast Tennessee. From there the river turns west through northern Alabama to the Mississippi border where it turns north for a final run through western Tennessee and Kentucky, reaching the Ohio River just before it spills into the Mississippi River. On a map, the Tennessee River looks like a U with a larger, longer left side.
In addition to the poverty of the region, the Tennessee River was known for its floods. Seasonal rains brought devastating floods to the region killing thousands and stripping what little topsoil there was off the precarious fields and denuded forests of the hilly landscape. This was the home of the Tennessee hillbilly—poor, isolated, and uneducated. Beyond subsistence farming, the main industries in the region were revivals and moonshine—often serving the same clientele.
In 1933 President Roosevelt proposed creating a federal agency to develop the impoverished Tennessee River valley. The congressional champion of the project was, of all people, Senator George Norris of Nebraska. The result was the creation of the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA). This regional development project featured the construction of a series of dams on the river to provide flood control, power generation, and navigation. Programs of erosion control and reforestation were mixed in with the massive building programs. In time, the region became a source of plentiful, cheap electricity that attracted industry and provided jobs.
Today the Tennessee River valley is a prosperous industrial region with beautiful lakes providing recreation including some of the best bass fishing in the world. In the academic field of regional development, the TVA is a textbook example of a successful, large scale, integrated project.
Several years ago, following a flood that killed thousands, China announced the initiation of the Three Gorges Project (TGP) to place a flood control hydroelectric dam across the Yangtze river—the third longest river in the world. The size and scope of the TGP is of record setting proportions; and, the controversies associated with the project are many. It is by all accounts the largest civil engineering project ever undertaken. Upon completion in 2009, the dam will provide about one-ninth of China’s electric power, most of which is currently produced by burning coal--a major factor in the horrible air pollution problem that much of China faces.
The dam will also provide flood control and navigation from Shanghai to Chongqing. Ocean freighters will steam through the world’s largest locks on the way to the industrial markets of Chongqing—1,500 miles from the sea. Two aspects of the TGP are of particular interest.
First, there is the environmental issue. Will a project of this magnitude change the environment? Will species that have lived in the river survive in a lake? Will silting at the dam site soon fill the reservoir behind the dam reducing the effectiveness of flood control? Will the industrial and municipal waste that is currently dumped into the river to be flushed out to the sea now begin to accumulate in the lake creating a mammoth cesspool?
Second, there is the relocation issue. As we motored down the 400 miles of river from Chongqing to the dam we passed numerous signs that marked the eventual high water level of the dam at 176 meters above sea level. Much of the construction of the dam has already been completed (locks and hydroelectric generators are still under construction) and the lake has been filled up to 159 meters. In 2009 the lake level will rise to the final level of 176 meters. Anything that was previously on the river is now underwater or will soon be so. The government estimates that 1.5 million people will have to be relocated. Homes that have been occupied and fields that have been harvested for five centuries are being lost to the waters of the TGP. Burial sites and religious shrines will be lost.
The government provides those who have lost their houses with new apartments that are certainly more modern that what is being lost, but who wants to give up the family farm for a new city apartment? Many of the displaced are leaving the land permanently and moving to large industrial centers like Chongqing. The fact that all land is owned by the state makes the relocation process a little easier than it would be in the U.S., but it is still a human challenge of monumental proportions. It was my unscientific observation that a lot of the housing that has been built to relocate the affected families remains unoccupied. Some towns are currently a curious mixture of old dwellings near the shore and new buildings higher up. Land that will soon be inundated is currently being farmed as it has been for centuries.
Life for the residents of the Yangtze valley will certainly change as a result of the TGP, just as life changed in the Tennessee valley as a result of the TVA. Let’s hope the change is for the better.
As for the scenery, it is as beautiful and spectacular as ever. The TGP can’t change that. However, the partial filling of the lake has made travel up some the tributaries of the Yangtze possible. The gorges on the one tributary we went up were even more beautiful than the famous three gorges of the Yangtze. Sometimes change is beneficial.

Giant pandas eating bamboo

2006-11-21T06:59:00.000-08:00

Chengdu

2006-11-21T06:54:00.000-08:00

For a little weekend adventure my wife and I packed up and headed off to Chengdu—the capital of Sichuan province to the west of Beibei. There were two primary reasons we wanted to make this trip: we had never been there before; and, we wanted to see the giant pandas.

Our visit to Chengdu confirmed one generalization about China: “Don’t make generalizations about China.” Perhaps more so than in the U.S., each major Chinese city we have visited seems to have its own character--the subtle little things that a casual drop-in visitor might not perceive. The differences, no doubt, are the curious consequences of historical, cultural, and geographical forces. Our friends in Beibei talk about Chengdu as a quaint, garden city dotted with classic teahouses where one can enjoy artistic performances while enjoying the finest tea in China. With more than 2,500 years of recorded history, Chengdu is an old city of commercial and literary note. It is located on the rich Chengdu plateau—the agricultural center of the Sichuan region.

Chengdu is about 220 miles to the west of Beibei, also located on one of the major tributaries of the Yangtze River. If you are able to find it on a map, you will note that it is about as far west as you can go without leaving the comforts of modern transportation. To the north are heavily forested and sparsely populated mountains. To the west is a vast stretch of desolate, arid land that is largely unpopulated. To the south is Tibet. In fact, one of the major tourist attractions of Chengdu seems to be that it is the jumping off place for those seeking the adventures of Tibet. From Chengdu there are bus, air, and a new super-train to Lhasa—the capital of Tibet. Travel to Tibet is restricted and a special visa is required for Western travelers, so that is a trip for another day for us. Although it is an ancient capital, Chengdu feels like a frontier city. The population is currently about 9 million and it is growing very rapidly. The federal government is pouring development money into all of the southwestern part of China because this is a relatively poor region of the country. Chengdu is the consequence of a dramatic demographic shift in this part of the world from rural villages to major urban areas. In Chengdu one notices the absence of older people—almost no one is “from” Chengdu, instead they all have moved there from some little rural village where their grandparents cling to a rural, simple way of life. The young people want jobs, not subsistence. They want TV, stores, neon, congestion, and opportunities rather than the peaceful contemplation of a rural, self-sufficient lifestyle. As a result, as you walk the streets of Chengdu, you see very few elders. In Beibei, every toddler has at least one grandparent in tow; in Chengdu every toddler has parents in tow. The few older folks who are to be seen in Chengdu are usually quite regal and obviously quite well off.

Today, Chengdu is a modern city that has been re-developed for the automotive age. The main streets are broad boulevards with 8-10 lanes of traffic and wide sidewalks. Most roads are “spokes” into the central hub, but there are also two circular beltways around the city that make it possible to go from north to south without passing through the congestion of the center of the city. Chengdu, unlike Beibei or Chongqing, is flat. As a result, bicycles and motorbikes are everywhere. We were struck by the sheer number of electric bikes and scooters in Chengdu. They are everywhere including on the sidewalks which makes walking a little dangerous as they silently weave in and out among the pedestrians. Large sidewalk “parking lots” have electric bikes for short-term rental. They are everywhere. It is not uncommon to see a family of three all precariously perched on a single electric bike as it moves quickly and quietly along its way.

If not continuing on to Tibet, why would anyone go to Chengdu? The answer is quite simple—giant pandas. Chengdu is the home of the Panda Breeding Research Center and its adjacent Panda Eco-Park. The mountains to the north and west of Chengdu are the native habitat of the Giant Panda (literally translated in Chinese as “big bear cat”). The giant panda diet is based exclusively on the leaves of several species of bamboo; hence, giant pandas are found only in natural bamboo forests. The giant panda is a relic of the Pleistocene period that has survived into the present. They are solitary, nocturnal creatures that are going extinct because their reproductive instincts seem to be rather subdued. In an effort to solve this species threatening problem, the Panda Breeding Research Center was created. According to the educational materials at the Center, female giant pandas have one to two days per annual breeding season when they can conceive. Giant pandas in captivity don’t seem to be interested in the other sex at all and those in the wild don’t seem to be in the right place at the right time which is a combination that spells extinction.

The giant panda is the familiar black and white creature that is about the size of a black bear at maturity. There is also a lesser or red panda that is also rare but not as close to extinction. The red panda looks like and is about the size of a cross between a raccoon and a fox. The panda park has a large collection of both varieties and is dedicated to the preservation of the pandas through research and breeding programs. The park, on the outskirts of Chengdu is about 250 acres of land that has been developed into an eco-park with large walled enclosures for the pandas. There are several separate enclosures for the adults, the sub-adults, and the ever popular nursery where we saw three panda cubs on display. The giant pandas are large, slow moving creatures whose life seems to be taken up in lounging around while eating bamboo and sleeping. To assist in the latter activity, the giant pandas have private rooms with blinds for light control and to keep them away from people noises during their rest periods. During their bamboo eating periods, they don’t seem to mind the chatter and flashes of curious humans.

The Panda Eco-Park is an example of eco-tourism well done. It has been recognized by the United Nations Environmental Program as one of the “Global 500” conservation programs. The park is an effective combination of research, preservation, and education. The grounds are extensive relative to the panda enclosures so you never get the congested, caged feeling of a zoo—it is more of a stroll in the park kind of feeling. The pandas, giant and red, are well quartered and obviously well cared for by a professional staff. The nursery, which is the primary mission of the park, is very nice. The babies are on display behind a glass barrier with guards on either side to prevent tourists from creating blinding flashes of light in their eagerness to take a picture. A nurse with a face-mask is in constant attendance.

When our children were very young we lived for a year in the Washington, D.C. area. I recall one Sunday we visited the National Zoo to view the two pandas that had been sent to the U.S. as a temporary gift of the Chinese government as a part of the normalized diplomatic relations President Nixon had initiated. With throngs of people elbow to elbow we saw two pandas in glass cages trying to take a nap. I came away thrilled at having seen these rare, unusual creatures, but a little sad at the plight of the two Chinese visitors. It is the same, empty feeling one gets from seeing a lion in a two-ring circus. At the beautiful Chengdu eco-park we came away with none of that feeling. It is a case study of eco-tourism done properly—research, conservation, and education for a very worthy cause. It was easily worth the 4.5 hour bus ride to Chengdu and the 6 hour return trip.

Skyline of downtown Singapore

2006-11-16T11:46:00.000-08:00

View of highways, rail line, and apartments in the New Territories, Hong Kong

2006-11-16T11:44:00.000-08:00

New Places, New Adventures

2006-11-16T11:40:00.000-08:00

This past week my wife and I had the opportunity to visit two schools in the United World College system (www.uwc.org). These are outstanding secondary schools that teach the IB curriculum to selected students from all over the world. Each school is a mini-United Nations with an emphasis on international cooperation and understanding. The schools we visited are in Hong Kong and Singapore.

Hong Kong

Hong Kong is an island-city inside one of the finest natural harbors in the world. Just across the harbor on the mainland is the large, equally congested city of Kowloon. Bridges, tunnels, and ferries connect these two metropolitan areas. Britain was awarded Hong Kong at the conclusion of the First Opium War in 1842. Britain wanted Hong Kong in order to secure its maritime supremacy in East Asia and to enhance its commercial interests there. China is a country rich in coal resources, so the China coast was a natural refueling station for the newly emerging coal-fired steamships of that era. In 1860 Kowloon was added to the British colony. Somewhat later, Portugal created a colony at Macao and Germany acquired Tsingtao for the same reasons. As the colony of Hong Kong grew, the British needed more space so in 1898 they signed a 99-year lease for the mainland surrounding the harbor which became known as the “New Territories”. Under British rule, the New Territories were occupied with small fishing villages and local agricultural enterprises serving the large, concentrated urban populations of Hong Kong and Kowloon.
In 1997 the lease on the New Territories expired. At that time Britain decided to return not only the New Territories but also Hong Kong and Kowloon to the government of China. On July 1, 1997, the Union Jack was lowered at Government House for the last time, bringing to an end more than 150 years of British colonial rule.
The government of China has followed a policy of “one country, two systems” in an effort to integrate Hong Kong into greater China over a fifty year time span. The result of this policy is that Hong Kong has continued to prosper and expand as one of the great international free ports of the world. Since 1997 China has made substantial infrastructure investments in Hong Kong in an effort to create a model, international city in China. They have built a futuristic light rail transportation system, a new, large international airport, and a Disneyland entertainment complex. An explicit part of the government’s policy has been to push the population pressure out of Hong Kong and Kowloon into the New Territories.
Key policies to stimulate growth in the New Territories have included an expansion of highways and light rail transportation into the New Territories and the construction of “new cities” at each of the train stops in New Territories. At the same time, the government has set aside large tracts of land as natural reserves that are protected from development.
The school we visited is adjacent to one of these new cities. Perhaps the best way to describe the place is to say it looks like something out of the old cartoon show The Jetsons [see photo]. These new cities are integrated communities that have been constructed in a centrally planned, coordinated fashion that would make any urban planner salivate. A modern, very clean rail station is integrated with a local bus terminal to carry people to outlying areas. Within walking distance of the rail station are some twenty or thirty high-rise apartment buildings, each 30 stories high. A modern super-highway carries high speed traffic under the elevated rail station.
At a nearby rail stop, commercial space is integrated into the rail station. As you depart the train you can take an air conditioned skywalk over the freeway into a three story mall as modern as any you can find in the states. On the other side of the station is another mall. Included in the malls are large, modern supermarkets, food courts, and every specialty store you would find at any modern mall—including, alas a McDonald’s. It is, compared to Beibei, another world.

Singapore

After the culture-shock of the New Territories, we did not know what to expect at Singapore. It is a former British colony on an island that is strategically located at the mouth of the Malacca Straits--one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world. The British gave up control of Singapore in 1965 and it has been a democratic, self-governed city-state ever since.
In the early days, Singapore was administered by the East India Company which brought many Indians to Singapore to run the colony. Many descendents of the early British and Indians are still in Singapore. Today, a majority of the population is ethnic Chinese who have immigrated to this island of promise. Local Malays and a large contingent of Europeans make up the rest of the population. It is the biggest melting pot I have ever seen. As with many large cities, there is a part of Singapore called Chinatown where we ate one evening (a busman’s holiday), and another part called Little India where we also ate (very good).
Singapore among economists is frequently cited as an example of how an enlightened central government can manage an economy to the benefit of its citizens. The city streets are wide and there is no traffic congestion [see photo]. Public transportation is widely available and it works efficiently. But, Singapore is also known for government regulation of individual behavior. There is a substantial fine for spitting, for not flushing the toilet, and even for chewing gum. Street vendors are not allowed. They have been replaced with government sponsored “stall” plazas that are tightly regulated. The city is as clean as I have ever seen in a metropolitan setting, and English is the first language.
We enjoyed our visits to the New Territories and Singapore, but it was nice to get back to the comfort of our own, but temporary, home in Beibei.

Faithful companion of our green grocer

2006-11-03T08:22:00.000-08:00

Editor's note: I am always a fan of dog photos and this one is very cute!

the Philippines, dogs, and other Week 10 thoughts

2006-11-03T08:21:00.000-08:00

When I was a young lad of eleven, my father took a one-year position as a visiting professor at the University of the Philippines in Manila. It was quite an experience for an impressionable young mind. Some of the things I saw, smelled, and heard probably led me down a path of international involvement that is currently terminating in the big city of Beibei, China. Who would have thought it would all come to this?
While in the Philippines we took several trips to the northern mountains of Luzon Island—the large island on which Manila is located. The region was one of indigenous people not far removed from the late Stone Age. The landscape is famous for its spectacular rice terraces that have been harvested continuously for thousands of years. The natural beauty of the region hangs in my memory as does a visit to the local market one day.
Local markets are always interesting. In this market we passed through the usual butcher shops with hunks of beef and pork hanging in the open air, usually covered with a swarm of flies. Then this eleven year old boy got hit with a visual image that burned into the memory. Among the chunks of meat hanging for sale was the carcass of a dog.
When we left for the Philippines, I had to leave behind my beloved pet, Pal. She was a mutt who followed me every morning and evening as I delivered the Nashville Tennessean and the Nashville Banner to my subscribers. During some lonely days at our residence in Manila, I used to think about Pal and how nice it would be to have her in my arms. And then, suddenly I was looking at a dog carcass hanging for sale in the market.
With time and maturity, I came to realize that in most of Asia dog is a common dish, as is duck, eel, snail, snake, rabbit, rat, turtle, and just about anything else that has meat on it. Prior to leaving, I noted that my Berlitz Mandarin Chinese Phrase Book and Dictionary© gave a translation for dog in the food section just after beef and pork and before lamb and chicken. Some fifty years later, I was going to have to confront dog as a dish again. My wife and I are pretty good sports about being in a different culture, but this was one experience neither of us really wanted to confront.
After several months in Beibei, I can happily report that we have not found any evidence of dog eating. As best we can tell, it is not on any of the menus in our favorite restaurants. At hot pots, where it is common to eat a variety of non-traditional fare, we have not encountered any dog, at least none that we have been told about. To the contrary, we have found that dogs in Beibei are much beloved pets that are well cared for and well fed. With one exception we have not seen what appears to be a homeless dog.
Most of the dogs in Beibei are small variations of the Pekinese breed. This makes sense since the breed name comes from Peking which is the old spelling of the Chinese capital of Beijing. These dogs have pug noses, a protruding lower jaw, and a curled bushy tail. They tend to stay very close to their masters or to the stores that they often “guard”. They tend to be very territorial, but they won’t mess with you if you don’t mess with them and/or their master. Most are white or of a light color and most are immaculately clean.
As we leave our apartment in the search of food we pass by our green grocer who sells bananas, tangerines, apples, and anything else we may want. He usually is sitting just inside the store next to his electronic scale with his dog on the front step standing (or lying) guard [see photo]. In the afternoon or evening, the boss will sit on a small stool on the sidewalk in front of the store. The dog is always stationed at his feet, or for a special treat in the boss’ lap. We suppose that on those rare occasions when we pass the store and the dog is not there that he must be taking a nap on the sofa in front of the TV set.
There is a small stall of a shop that we frequently pass that seems to offer numerous items and sell few of them. Most often the owners are playing cards on the small counter at the front of the stall. Invariably their dog is perched on top of the counter engrossed in the finer points of the game. This dog is quite distinctive in that it has been sheared bald except for his head and his tail which has been dyed bright pink. There is another dog with a similar “hair-do” that guards a local barbershop/beauty salon (they are one and same here). He stands out front of the shop as an advertisement for what stylish magic can be performed in the shop.
The local Beibei Sunday market, like that in the Philippines of my youth, has a dog section that is very popular with the local population. The main difference is that at this market what is for sale are live puppies by local breeders who have found dog raising to be a lucrative “farm crop”. It is not at all uncommon to get on a bus and see someone with a small puppy in a box or a bag.
Last Sunday at the market there was also a mature German Sheppard for sale in a large, sturdy bamboo cage. This dog was obviously for sale not as a companion dog, but as a guard dog. There are a few around town. A restaurant that we pass every night has a sleep-in night watchman and his German Sheppard. The dog always seems to be very docile (and quite well fed with kitchen leftovers), but I don’t want to try out the other side of his behavior. We also have two policemen who walk a beat around our apartment each night. They are unarmed (as are most police) except for a short billy club and a large dog on leash. As best I can tell, nobody messes with these policemen.
My wife is currently teaching a large class of juniors at SWU. In order to stimulate some discussion she began the class with a student questionnaire. One of the questions was “what do you miss most of all while away from home at SWU?” As expected, there were a variety of responses including boy friends, sisters, and parents. But by far, the most common response was “my dog”. I am pleased to conclude that the role and status of dogs in urban China today is quite different from what I remember in the mountainous villages of the Philippines fifty years ago.

Matt, Peace Corps volunteer, as a geriatric Superman for Beibei Halloween and other great costumes in Beibei

2006-11-02T06:37:00.000-08:00

teaching in China

2006-11-02T06:35:00.000-08:00

One of the compulsory elements of education in China, at both the secondary and post-secondary levels, is the study of English. Two consequences of this policy are of interest. First, if we are lost during our travels and need assistance we just look for some college students and ask for assistance with the knowledge that one or more of them will have English abilities far superior to our meager Chinese abilities. Second, there is an acute shortage of English teachers in China at all levels. Several strategies are being employed in an effort to bridge this English teacher gap.
One approach is to train more English teachers. Southwest University (SWU) has a substantial program for English majors. Unfortunately, given the Chinese system of university admission, many English majors really don’t want to be English majors but that was the only major they could declare that would gain them admission to the University. In addition, based on a show of hands in my wife’s English class, few of these reluctant English majors eventually want to be English teachers. So the local approach to filling the teacher gap is not sufficient.
An alternative approach is to employ expatriates (i.e., Americans and other English speaking foreigners) to teach English. At the present time, this appears to be the preferred, stop-gap measure. As a consequence, China is awash with young American teachers of English at private academies, universities, and other venues. Southwest University has about twelve hired American teachers on its staff. Some teach at the University and others teach at high schools that are affiliated with SWU. The American teachers of English at SWU are hired on an academic year (ten month) contract that provides free housing, partial travel, a monthly stipend, and free Chinese language courses. Most of these teachers are recent graduates of St. John’s College in Minnesota and have no prior language teaching experience. In fact, their only qualification to teach English is that they are native speakers, you know. Many of them live in the apartment complex where we live, so we have gotten to know them during our stay here. They are very sincere, dedicated young people working in a very difficult environment. Their teaching loads are outlandish; such as 700 high school students per day in one case. [A word of warning: there are lots of reports of English teacher employees making offers to prospective English teachers and then changing the terms of the offer once the teachers arrive in China. From an economist’s point of view this is an object lesson in bargaining power.]
Another stop-gap solution to the English teacher gap is the Peace Corps. The government of China accepts Peace Corps volunteers only if they are English teachers—no other Peace Corps projects exist in China. In Beibei we have two Peace Corps Volunteers who are part of the SWU English program. So far as Peace Corps assignments go, this is a pretty good assignment. SWU provides housing and the Peace Corps pays a monthly stipend while in China along with a $6,000 adjustment payment upon completion of the two-year commitment. In addition, volunteers receive full transportation and excellent health care support.
Last night, we attended an all-American Halloween party hosted by one of the Peace Corps volunteers here in town. The host, Matt, was dressed as an elderly Superman (see photos) who had developed a significant paunch and who could no longer leap over anything taller than grass. We were the only “oldsters” at the party which was a lot of fun. Our Chinese neighbors got quite a kick out of seeing young Americans dressed up in outlandish outfits, including one creative teacher who went as a steamed bun. Some things that are uniquely American are very difficult to explain.
On a slightly different topic, this week I was invited to address a meeting of the Finance Students Club. The assigned topic was “National (i.e., Chinese) Brands in a Multi-national World”. The topic is of immediate importance because China became a part of the World Trade Organization (WTO) in December, 2001. As part of the agreement, China was given a five-year adjustment period to come into full compliance with the free trade doctrines of the WTO. So, next month, China will be open to international competition and multinationals will be free to enter the Chinese market. In light of the changing environment it is no coincidence that Wal-Mart announced this month that it has purchased a local chain store called Trust-Mart for more than $1 billion. Wal-Mart currently has 66 stores in China and Trust-Mart has about 160, so under the new trading environment of the WTO, Wal-Mart is buying its way into the world’s fourth largest consumer market. The Club meeting was attended by about 120 students and resulted in a lively two-hour discussion with a very interested audience. The meeting was concluded by one of the Club officers giving a short presentation on why he thinks continued protectionism is essential for the orderly development of the Chinese economy.
The weather has turned to fall and the air pollution continues unabated. Such is life in Beibei.

Street vendors in the Muslim sector of Xi’an

2006-10-25T06:29:00.000-07:00

more from Xi'an

2006-10-25T06:20:00.000-07:00

Last week I talked about Xi’an as the center of the first unified Chinese dynasty about two and a half centuries ago. After the fall of the Qin dynasty, China sustained periods of warring states followed by repeated attempts to establish unifying dynasties. China also has a history of invasions from the north by Mongols who periodically ruled the Yellow River basin. The Great Wall was constructed over the course of several dynasties in a futile effort to block these northern invaders.

One of the more successful Mongol rulers was Kublai Khan who ruled Mongolia and the Yellow River basin of China in the latter half of the thirteenth century. In 1269 the Italian explorer Marco Polo returned from a commercial trip to China with letters from the Khan to the Pope asking that western intellectuals be sent to his court to teach them about the West. The return trip of Marco Polo, which lasted almost twenty five years, is described in his famous book, Travels, reportedly dictated by Polo from a prison cell. While there is substantial debate about the veracity of Polo’s book, there is little question that the reported adventures popularized in the West what was known as the Silk Road—one of the greatest commercial routes in world history.

Initially established in the Dark Ages, the Silk Road created overland commercial ties between Europe and China centuries before maritime contacts were established. The Road, which stretches from the Mediterranean to China, passes through what is today Turkey or Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan to the famous Khyber Pass over the Himalayans. The Khyber Pass lies between modern Afghanistan and Pakistan and continues to be a major commercial route for smugglers of cocaine, terrorists, and anything else of value. From Pakistan the Road leads into Tibet, across the Kobi desert, and into the Yellow River basin. There, Xi’an was the major terminal and trading center of this commercial route.

Trade on the Silk Road brought Europe scarce and exotic goods including silk, jade, pepper and other spices, and eastern technology such as the manufacture of gunpowder. It is curious that the Chinese invention of moveable type and the printing press never made it back to the West—not terribly important I guess. While goods flowed freely on the backs of numerous camel caravans, an equally important flow of people, their cultures, and their religions passed from region to region. As one would expect, the rise of Islam in the seventh and eighth centuries was carried along the Silk Road into China.

As a consequence of this early commercial contact, Xi’an today has a large Muslim population descended from the early merchants. They speak Chinese, but still cling to the very open practice of Islam. They are racially distinct and many use traditional dress. Today, many of these descendants are active merchants in Xi’an and throughout China—particularly in the western provinces.

In the center of Xi’an, not far from the Bell Tower, is the ancient, central Mosque. It is a beautiful and serene place that actively serves the spiritual needs of the local population. Around the Mosque for blocks in any direction is a traditional Arab market or bazaar with narrow alleys, crowded shops, and every variety of exotic food imaginable. Particularly popular are sweets (candies and pastries), and dried fruits (dates, nuts) that in an earlier time came over thousands of miles by camel caravan from unknown western lands.

The Mosque and the Muslim quarter are of interest to both foreign tourists and local Chinese tourists. There were lines of Chinese outside of one shop waiting to buy a popular fried pastry prepared in an open air shop by Muslims in typical costume (photo). As we walked around, we passed one section of the market that seemed to be the liver section. We must have passed at least twenty shops, each of which had ten to twenty beef livers stacked up, uncooled in the front of the stores. They must have been smoked or preserved in some other fashion. I have no idea where all of that liver ends up in the food chain (and I hope I never find out).

The palpable feel of the historic Silk Road in the Arab quarter of Xi’an was fascinating. I almost expected Marco Polo or Kubli Kahn to step out around the next little alleyway and offer to exchange some European industrial good for silk or spices. After all, that was just yesterday in Chinese time—only several hundred years before Columbus bumped into a land mass that prohibited him from reaching the East Indies as he searched for an alternative to the Silk Road.

Back home in Beibei we found that little had changed. Our favorite noodle restaurant is still in business. It is operated by a very nice Muslim family. The wall decorations include a large picture of the Grand Mosque during the Hajj. Mom and Dad run the place and their children work as servers in between classes at the University. Their daughter is studying Food Science and one son is in Engineering. They serve no pork, but just about everything else. They, and some other Muslim merchants in town, remind us how far west we really are here in Beibei and how quickly we can step back in time.

The Bell Tower in Xi’an, China on a “clear” day. Note background building across the square.

2006-10-15T13:27:00.000-07:00

The terra cotta warriors guarding the tomb of Emperor Shi in Xi'an

2006-10-15T13:24:00.000-07:00

A Visit to Xi’an

2006-10-15T13:14:00.000-07:00

In 1900 that most populous city in Florida was Key West. In other words, most of what we know about Florida has happened in the past century. A short walk from our apartment in Beibei leads to top of a small river ravine that has been inhabited and farmed for the past 5,000 years. With the adoption of agriculture to replace the hunting and gathering societies, came the need for some form of social organization. As agrarian societies developed, labor specialization became common. Some folks were farmers and others were merchants, priests, sheriffs, or tribal chiefs. These small societies were held together by a common belief, common ancestry, and/or the power of the local chiefs. That power usually manifested itself in some form of a military unit capable of protecting the existing chiefdom, or, in many cases, expanding it through conquest.

Early Chinese history is an ever changing collage of rival chiefdoms rising and falling with the passing of time. Until fairly recently (by Chinese standards) China as a single country did not exist—it was simply a collection of numerous chiefdoms or, to use common phraseology today, warlords. The political organization that existed over the land mass of China looked a lot like what we see in Yugoslavia, Afghanistan, or Iraq today—a shifting pattern of local warlords with no effective central government.

The first successful unification of the many chiefdoms or city-states along the Yellow River basin was in 221B.C. by a young ruler of the Qin state named Shi Huangdi. Many of the chiefdoms along the Yangtze River were also brought under the central control of what became known as the Qin {pronounced CHIN} dynasty—the first in Chinese history. The geographic center of the Qin dynasty was Xi’an {SHEE-enh}—a rich agricultural center on the Yellow River. As the Qin consolidated power, Shi proclaimed himself the first Emperor of China. During the centralization of the Qin dynasty the Chinese language and writing were standardized and part of the Great Wall was built to defend against raiders from the north.

During the first week of October the mid-autumn festival holiday was celebrated and classes at Southwest University were suspended for a week. My wife and I took advantage of the holiday to visit Xi’an which today is one of the most popular tourist attractions in China, both for Chinese tourists and foreign tourists like us.

Today Xi’an is a booming metropolitan center of about 7 million people. For the most part, in spite of its historic past, it is a young city with broad boulevards laid out to accommodate motorized traffic. It seems to be growing rapidly with construction projects everywhere. In addition, it is preparing to be one of the regional sites of the 2008 Olympics. We flew from a very modern airport in Chongqing (an old city on the Yangtze) to a very modern airport in Xi’an (an old city on the Yellow) in about an hour. We left Chongqing through an incredible cloud of air pollution and arrived in Xi’an in an equally dense cloud of pollution. Because of the irritating, consistent, and apparently pervasive air pollution, we never saw our shadows during four days at Xi’an.

We stayed in the center of the old city of Xi’an. From our hotel window we could see the Bell Tower on the central plaza (see photo and note air pollution). The old city was enclosed with a wall and moat. The entire old wall still exists. The adventurous tourist can rent a bicycle and ride the entire 14 kilometer circumference on top of the wall. The old city is entered by four gates in the four directions with roads that lead to the Bell Tower.

The primary tourist attraction in Xi’an is the tomb built by Emperor Shi for his eventual burial. The tomb contains some 6,000 terra cotta warriors (instead of sacrificed human warriors) who silently stand guard over an area about the size of three football fields. Only a portion of the entire tomb has been excavated and reconstructed. The sheer size (and audacity) of the tomb is overpowering (see photo). The tomb, first discovered in the 1970’s has been featured on the cover of National Geographic magazine and was visited by President Clinton during a state visit to China about ten years ago.

As with the modern examples of despotic consolidators such as Tito and Sadam, the unification of China was not a peaceful process. It was accomplished at a great cost in terms of human life. In the face of a superior military force and a reign of terror many local warlords lost their status and power. Nevertheless, old regional identities and the old frictions among the various warlords were never eliminated, they were merely subjugated to a stronger central power sustained by military superiority and sustained terror. Upon the death of Emperor Shi in 210 B.C., his son became the Emperor and was soon overthrown in a peasant revolt supported by the deposed warlords. The first unification of China had been brief and ended in failure.

Next week, I will discuss one other interesting aspect of Xi’an.

Holiday gift box of moon cakes for the Mid-Autumn Festival

2006-10-15T13:07:00.001-07:00

Holidays

2006-10-15T13:07:00.000-07:00

China has three major holiday seasons. The smallest and least significant is May Day on the first of May. This is the traditional Labor Day in Communist countries. The largest and most significant is New Year’s Day. Unlike New Year’s Day in the U.S. which is tied to our Gregorian calendar, New Year’s in China is tied to the lunar calendar (see any placemat in a Chinese restaurant). New Year’s usually comes in late January and is cause for several weeks of celebration including the break between semesters at the universities.

The third holiday season includes the fall holidays of National Day and the Mid-Autumn Festival. National Day is the first of October and celebrates the creation of a unified China under the communist regime of Mao Zedong in 1949. National Day is the equivalent of our 4th of July. This year National Day fell on a Sunday. Saturday night we heard, but did not see, a fireworks display in Beibei. The next day we wandered about campus and noted that the campus post office and numerous campus banks were open. About the only thing different from any other Sunday was that all buses were decorated with crossed Chinese flags on their windshields. In short, National Day is not much of a celebration.

The Mid-Autumn Festival is another matter. This holiday is tied to the lunar calendar—it is celebrated on the full moon of the eighth lunar month. This year it fell on Oct. 6 (Friday). Most societies have some form of harvest festival—Thanksgiving in the U.S. and Canada—and in China it is the Mid-Autumn Festival. It is a time for families to get together, tell stories, and eat traditional foods. As a result, there is a lot of travel with intense congestion at travel depots. For instance, we had to wait for an hour to get a bus out of Beibei—usually there is no wait at all.

The mid-autumn full moon is the biggest, brightest full moon of the year—we call it the harvest moon. We sing about it, but we do not formally celebrate it. In China families gather on the night of the full moon and exchange gifts (usually moon cakes) as a sign of familial love. If family members are unable to be together, they can look at the full moon and know that their loved ones are doing the same so the bond of love is shared in the moment of the full moon.

As with most family-centered celebrations, kids are very important. We saw many girls in the 5-10 year old category dressed up in moon-goddess costumes including little headdresses with many sparkles on them. Also popular are balloons (for the younger set) in the obvious shape of a full-moon.

Among the adults, the two most popular gifts are moon cakes and fruit. The Southwest University gave each employee, including my wife and me, a gift box of moon cakes and a carton (the size of a ream of paper) of fresh pears. We had a hard time unloading two cartons of pears as no one could understand why we would want to give away so precious a gift.

To fully understand moon cakes one must be aware of a significant difference between American cooking methods and those of China (and Asia in general). Kitchens here, in restaurants and in homes, do not have ovens. As a consequence, breads and cakes (not to mention Thanksgiving turkeys) are very scarce and something of a luxury. There is one company that serves Beibei with baked goods in very fancy franchise stores with relatively high prices. At these stores we can buy breakfast rolls, bread (sometimes), and cookies. Cakes are a special order item and are purchased for weddings, birthdays, and the like. Consequently, eating moon cakes, or baked pastries, to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival is a big deal. These small cakes vary in size from a hockey puck up to a 5x2-inch circular cake. They are (as are all baked goods in China) very sweet and are frequently stuffed with fruits or meats. The real classic moon cake has a boiled egg yolk stuffed inside of it that looks just like the full moon. For those of modest incomes, you can get unleavened moon cakes that are about the size of an Oreo cookie and are mostly lard and flour.

About two weeks ago stores started stocking up on moon cakes. They were everywhere. The most popular presentation is a fancy gift box with an assortment of different moon cakes (see photo, this is what SWU gave us). As you look at people traveling for the holidays, many are carrying one or more gift boxes of moon cakes and/or fruit to their destinations. Frankly, I don’t know how all of the moon cakes are ever going to be eaten and I expect there are a number of Chinese children with sore tummies on the morning after the night before.

According to a newscast on the eve of the Mid-Autumn Festival, in years past moon cake gift boxes included a bottle of whiskey or wine which made the gift boxes very expensive as a good bottle of whiskey can run $50 and up. This year the government has outlawed this practice so the gift boxes would be cheaper and available to a wider range of consumers. There was no hint in the broadcast that temperance had anything to do with the new government rules. In any case, the celebration continued although in Beibei it rained all night and we were unable to see the moon—unrequited love.

2006-10-04T05:59:00.001-07:00

Typical college students eating hot pot. Note the husband and wife pot.

Sichuan Hot Pot

2006-10-04T05:59:00.000-07:00

Beibei is administratively part of the municipality of Chongqing. This municipality, like Washington, D.C., is a federal entity that is independent of any provincial government. There are currently four such municipalities in China, Beijing and Shanghai being two of the better known ones. Prior to the creation of the municipality of Chongqing, Beibei was part of the province (c.f., state) of Sichuan.

In ancient times, most of the economic and political development of China was located in western valleys of the two main river systems in China—the Yellow (in the north) and the Yangtze (in the south). Sichuan is located in the heart of the Yangtze River basin which is similar to our Mississippi river basin except it flows in a west to east direction instead of north to south. Shanghai, a major international port, is at the mouth of the Yangtze and is analogous to New Orleans at the mouth of the Mississippi River.

Sichuan is a vast region that is traditionally rural and agricultural. With industrialization, the economic centers of the country have sifted from the western agrarian regions of the Yellow and Yangtze rivers to the eastern, coastal metropolitan areas that are closer to international markets. Much of the early history of China is of conflict between the north and south (the two river basins); much of the history of the past century has been between the east (industrial) and west (agrarian). With these economic changes, Sichuan has become one of the poorest regions of China, not unlike the upper reaches of the Mississippi River valley in eastern Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee.

As with any large country, China has very significant regional differences in dialect, customs, and cuisine. When Americans think about southern cuisine they think about grits, corn bread, and Krispy Kreme doughnuts. When Chinese think about Sichuan cuisine, they think about “hot pot”, and with good reason. Hot pot does not refer to a dish or type of dish, but instead to an eating format or style. Many restaurants in Beibei are hot pot. If you go to a hot pot restaurant, you will eat hot pot style. In many ways, hot pot is similar to fondue in the U.S. A large caldron, usually filled with oil, is placed over a burner at the table and raw ingredients are brought to the table. The customer, at his or her leisure, puts the ingredients into the oil to cook. When cooked, you haul the food out with your chopsticks and eat it. There is no limit as to what ingredients you may put into the hot pot. All sorts of meat are common, including fish. Veggies are also common ingredients in hot pot. These range from chunks of turnips, beans, squashes, greens, and even lettuce.

A typical “pot” is a wok shaped steel bowl that is about 18 inches in diameter with two or three quarts of liquid in it. The contents of the hot pot vary from restaurant to restaurant and customer to customer. The most basic hot pot is just a pot of oil. More common is oil with some added goodies such as a celery stalk and onions to impart some flavor to the oil. One place we visited tossed a few ham hocks into the oil that initially added some nice pork fat to the oil and by the end of the meal yielded some pretty good pieces of well cooked pork. The regional favorite is to add some peppers and spices to the oil such that everything that comes out of the pot is hot and spicy—this is really good and is the most “typical” variety of hot pot. For those not inclined to so much oil, you can also do hot pot with chicken or beef stock. With any of the above foundations in the pot, the choice of what to cook is up to the customer.

Hot pot as an eating style is a leisurely endeavor. The heat from the pot not only cooks the food, it also warms up the customers. Up-scale hot pot restaurants are air conditioned, but the locals seem to prefer open air hot pots. With the hot air and hot (and frequently spicy) food, great quantities of beverage are normally consumed with hot pot.

Hot pot is usually a social occasion. It is not something for the casual customer just looking for a quick, easy meal. Many hot pot restaurants are up-scale places where you might have a wedding reception or a similar large party. In Beibei, most up-scale restaurants are exclusively hot pot restaurants. You pay a flat rate for the pot (depending on size and contents) with an additional charge for each ingredient added to the pot. The extras are ordered and brought to the table throughout the meal. A hot pot for four in the student ghetto starts at about $1.00 per person for the pot. Elegant hot pots start at the $4.00 per person range and can go much higher. Everything in between is available.

Should you visit Beibei, your hosts will invariably take you to a hot pot meal. For the timid, it is possible to order a split hot pot in which one part has just oil and the other part has oil with peppers, and spices. One of my local friends here calls this arrangement “husband and wife” hot pot.

Some American students who are studying at Southwest University report that there is a hot pot restaurant in the Minneapolis area. There may be some others in major metropolitan areas around the country. If you want a leisurely, interesting dining experience I encourage you to try out a hot pot.

Vikram's thoughts on Balti cuisine (since we're still talking food!)

2006-09-28T06:19:00.000-07:00

Balti cuisine comes from Baltistan, a region of northern Kashmir spanning both Indian and Pakistani territory. It uses similar spices and ingredients as other northern Indian cuisines, such as Punjabi, Mughlai, and Tandoori. There is often a base of garlic, ginger, and onion. The spices include coriander and cumin, but northern Indian cuisine makes frequent use of some fragrant spices, like star anise, cardamom, clove, and saffron. Since Baltistan lies near the Silk Route, it’s easy to see why it would use spices originating in China and Persia. South Indian food also is fragrant, but emphasizes plants that grow better in the south, such as mustard, black pepper, asafetida, and kari leaf (which some say is the source of the Indo-British word, curry—more about that in a moment).

While Balti cuisine employs similar flavors as other Indian and Central Asian cuisines, it is distinct in its method and its unique fusion of influences from the surrounding cultures of Persia, China, Kashmir, Tibet, and Afghanistan. By what I believe is a coincidence, it is cooked in a wok-like vessel sometimes called a Khadai (another speculated source of the word curry) but also known as a Balti. Balti is a term which in Hindi means “bucket” but which is used by many cultures in the Himalayan regions to refer to that wok-like cast-iron or steel vessel. The techniques resemble Chinese wok-cooking, involving fast stir-fries of pre-cut ingredients, though there are also slow-cooked dishes. In this it resembles its next-door neighbor, Tibet, which also fuses Indian and Chinese influences in cuisine and other respects. In fact, Baltistan was sometimes called “Little Tibet.” It may be that the term Balti, for the pot, came from the Balti people’s use of this particular pot in their cooking—thus, a Balti pot.

While most Balti dishes are drier, some do have sauces similar to Indian food. Traditionally, pieces of naan or other flatbread are used to scoop up food directly from the pot, while it is still sizzling from the fast, high-heat cooking. One can speculate that this would be a good method in a cold, mountainous terrain. The concave pot concentrates the heat, same as a wok does, allowing fast cooking without using a lot of wood. Then, rather than let it get cold by serving onto plates, it is eaten piping hot from a shared pot. Mountain peoples often use such techniques (think fondue). Traditionally, lamb, goat, or prawns were the main ingredient. Now, outside Baltistan, chicken and other ingredients are popular. The fragrant spices are also a high-altitude feature—in the thin air, the more you can stimulate the nose, the richer the experience. Thus, any meal from anywhere along the silk route will include things like basmati rice, star anise, and even camphor. Hold your face over the plate (or sizzling Balti pot) and inhale to get the fullness of the cook’s message.

One place that loves Balti is Birmingham, England. The UK is currently experiencing a new surge of interest in Indian food other than the typical curries they are used to, especially in London. Balti, Goan, and South Indian foods are becoming more popular alternatives. Before and after Indian Independence, a large number of Bangladeshi and Kashmiri Muslims emigrated to the UK, leading to the ubiquitous curry houses which receive a lot of patrons after pubs close at 11. In fact, many of those who started “curry houses” back in the mid-20th century were not cooks, but they managed to fake it and learn quickly, serving a mishmash that was not exactly authentic to any region, but was popular. In some cases, they adapted to British tastes. For example, the most popular take-out food in Britain is chicken tikka masala—chicken in a cream and tomato sauce. This dish was invented in the UK, much as chop suey was invented in San Francisco. Another Indo-British invention: Worcestershire sauce, brought to Britain by an officer whose Indian cook concocted a tamarind sauce that sahib loved.

Curry, in fact, is a term used mostly by non-Indians to describe a huge range of cuisines. In my native language, Tamil, the word kari means cooked vegetable. I believe that’s the root of the word. But now you find a certain blend of spices, usually including coriander, cumin, turmeric, and chili powder, used with regional variations as a base for Jamaican jerk chicken and curries from SE Asia, Japan, Zanzibar, Fiji, and the Caribbean. In the UK, curry sauce is an alternative to ketchup and mayonnaise to put on French fries. Because of that feedback from the British and the world, the word curry is now used by Indians themselves for all sorts of dishes besides Tamil cooked vegetables. To show how global it is, the chili pepper was brought to India by Portuguese traders in the 1600s from Central and South America. Before that, the heat in Indian cuisine came from the black peppercorn. So the heat in the curry, it turns out, is American.

On a serious note: as I write this, Pres. Bush and Pres. Musharraf of Pakistan are giving a press conference on C-SPAN. Part of Baltistan is the region of Kargil, over which India and Pakistan fought a war a few years ago after Al-Qaeda backed militants attacked Indian territory. It was the latest in a series of battles over Kashmir since 1947 and the region still suffers from unrest and terrorism. Many of the ethnic cuisines you find around the world may well be served to you by people escaping a difficult situation in their home countries, whether Cuban, Jamaican, or even Chinese a century ago. In Paris, I often eat at a Tunisian restaurant, Le Jasmin de Sousse, that used many of the same spices I grew up with. After I finished my tajine, the owner, Mustafa, poured me a glass of boukha, a strong fig liquor brewed in Islamic, supposedly teatotalling Tunisia, and talked for a long time about the oppressive dictatorship (which had replaced the oppressive French colonial government of his childhood), which he escaped to come to Paris, cook French cuisine for 25 years, put his four beautiful daughters through college, then open a restaurant where he could serve the food of his home. If you ever eat Balti or another cuisine from a faraway land, which delights you with its exotic spices, see if you don’t detect as well the secret ingredient: love, and a longing for home and peace.

Bringing Fred's food factory to Beibei

2006-09-28T06:12:00.000-07:00

A view down the student ghetto strip in Beibei on Sunday morning. Our favorite restaurant is in the center with black barrels in front of it. Street vendors buy used cooking oil from restaurants which is placed in these barrels for reprocessing.

Food fun in Beibei!

2006-09-28T06:11:00.000-07:00

Well, we have been in Beibei for four weeks now, so I guess that makes me an expert of sorts. One topic that seems to interest most folks—a reflection of biological necessity no doubt—is “what do you eat?” So, today’s topic is food. To whet your appetite, I heartily recommend the recent addendum written by Honor’s own Vickrama Rangala concerning Indian cuisine and Balti traditions in particular.

My wife and I have spent a good deal of time living in other countries (mostly in Latin America), so we consider ourselves rather resourceful when it comes to the essence of human survival—eating. Nonetheless, a common warning that we received from friends and colleagues who had visited China was that it was going to be difficult dealing with food. One colleague who had visited China reported that he had lost ten pounds in ten days. At least two people specifically recommended putting several packages of crackers in our luggage so we would have something to tide us over between sparse meals.

With the perspective of fours weeks on the ground, I am happy to report that we are eating well and that the prospect of either of us returning in December weighing slightly more than our baggage is, so to speak, slim. We sure aren’t eating what we normally eat in Gainesville, but we are eating well and have no problem finding adequate refreshment.

We mainly eat at small shops in the student ghetto which is adjacent to Southwest University (photo). As with any university, this small area is filled with small shops catering to the needs of the 50,000 students at SWU. Along our little strip of stores, there are two bicycle repair shops, two office supply stores, one water store (everyone buys drinking water in 5 gallon containers), numerous unisex barber/beauty shops, and lots of small sit-down restaurants. Most of these restaurants serve 15-30 patrons from a small mom and pop kitchen in the back.

These restaurants are not terribly attractive by American standards. Most are crowded, with poor ventilation, lots of flies, and some trash on the floor. If you are not too hungry, you can peek in the back to see dishes being washed by hand in used, cold water. Stated another way, if you want to eat, there are some things you learn to ignore. These restaurants come in two varieties depending on the cooking/eating method. The regional specialty is what are known as “hot pot “restaurants. The rest are more like a typical American café with sit-down service and a varied menu from which the patron selects his or her meal. There will be more on “hot pots” next week.

Most restaurants have similar fare, but each has its own specialties and unique characteristics. In general, your meal will come from one of two sources—either the broth pot or the wok. The broth pot is a large pot of beef or chicken stock that is kept hot at all times. Typically you get broth with noodles cooked to order (usually a very thin noodles) along with some veggies and/or a little bit of meat thrown in. The meat, veggies, and noodles are captured with your chopsticks. Then you pick up the bowl and drink the remaining broth. It is a good, satisfying meal and my wife is delighted that I am eating more veggies than I would ever consume in Gainesville. Most of these meals will run you well under $1.00 per bowl. Many locals will supplement a bowl of noodles with a bowl of rice.

The wok produces a little more variety. One favorite restaurant cooks up noodles (the flat kind) with chopped veggies, meat, oil, and spices. It all goes in the wok and is cooked at a very high temperature for a short period of time. It is really quite good and nutritious. The alternative is more like what you would normally get at a “Chinese” restaurant in the States. This is a dish of meat and/or veggies that has been cooked in the wok with plenty of oil. It is served with a large bowl of sticky (steamed) rice on the side. The amount of rice served is way more than you will ever eat; but don’t worry, the leftovers get recycled into the fare of the next customer. Last night we had a very nice chicken with peanuts dish cooked in an oily sauce with spices that give Sichaun food its reputation for being hot and spicy fare. These dishes usually run in the $1.00 to $1.50 range per plate, depending on how much meat is included.

There are two other peculiarities about restaurants that require some adjustment. First, there is no tipping. In fact, tips are considered an insult. Second, with the exception of beer at some restaurants, drinks are on your own. It is perfectly accepted to bring in your own bottle of water or soda for your meal. I think the reason most restaurants don’t bother with drinks is that they don’t want to deal with inventory and refrigeration issues.

Back to the original advice we received before we left: crackers are very plentiful. At our little store where we buy snacks and accessories, there is about ten feet of shelf space, from top to bottom, filled with crackers and cookies. And, the crackers are tasty, fresh, and cheap. In hindsight, I am very glad we did not bring a lot of crackers to China. Now, how about a pizza?

Freshman Orientation

2006-09-20T07:24:00.000-07:00

Each freshman is issued a uniform and assigned to a training group. For the first week the freshmen practice marching drills in “boot camp”. Each freshman is admitted to a specific major that can not be changed. For the next four years, students in each major will be housed together and take most of the same courses together.

Australia, New Zealand, and Hong Kong travels

2006-09-20T07:21:00.000-07:00

On the way to China my wife and I spent several weeks in New Zealand and Australia. Then we went through Hong Kong on our way to Beibei. One of the fun things about travel is the unexpected things you bump into. Two left an impression on me.

Australia and New Zealand

My prior image of Australia and New Zealand (or ANZ as they call the region) was one of ethnic homogeneity. As a young student many years ago I learned that in order to migrate to ANZ one must be a white, Anglo-Saxon. Potential immigrants from other ethnic backgrounds were not welcome. For instance, at the same time the U.S. was importing Chinese laborers to build our railroads, the ANZ countries were using Irish and Italian laborers. Today, as a result, you find many good Italian restaurants and Irish pubs throughout the ANZ region; while in San Francisco one of the major tourist attractions is Chinatown.

Well, the policy of limited immigration has certainly changed in the past thirty years. In recognition of a labor shortage, ANZ has opened its gates to immigrants from any ethnic background. The impact of this new wave of immigrants is most evident in Sydney and Auckland, but new migrants are found throughout the region.

Our first exposure was in Auckland where there is an absolute flood of Japanese immigrants. As we walked the streets of Auckland, I did a totally unscientific and ethno-centric survey of who was walking on the sidewalk. My count was about 60% non-Anglo-Saxon. I was amazed. Granted, some, like us, were tourists; but, most were either long- or short-term immigrants. Most were young which has very significant implications for their social security system (lots of young immigrants paying taxes to support retired Anglo-Saxons).

As we chatted with Anglo-Saxons of our age group, there was a strong feeling of tolerance towards the new immigrants. But there was also a subtle, sentimental feeling that the countries have lost something of their unique identities. The only unsolicited, direct reference I heard came from a nice gentleman of about 70 who spoke about unnamed changes since the “policy of diversification”.

What are the implications? The labor shortage is no longer limiting economic growth although unemployment in Auckland is at 3.5%--well below what we currently have in the U.S. In over two weeks, every cab driver we had was an immigrant. Only one, an immigrant from Scotland, was a native English speaker. His family left Scotland and settled in south Florida for several years before leaving for ANZ because of concerns about raising his kids in a “culture of violence”. His family is now very happy in Perth, Australia. Every restaurant where we ate was ethnic. Each night the question was the same: what will it be tonight—Thai, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, etc. In Wellington we had a memorable meal at “the first Balti restaurant in New Zealand”. [I leave it up to our food critic, Vickrama Rangala, to explain what Balti cuisine is like.]

In Auckland, many of the immigrants are Japanese students. Most are high school students who are learning English in the hopes of getting into universities in New Zealand or elsewhere. For the most part, these are the children of very rich Japanese families who most likely would not make it into the very competitive system of higher education in Japan. At the present time, these students are enjoying the free, universal secondary education that New Zealand offers. This is not a bad deal for the Japanese students, but the local taxpayers are beginning to raise doubts about the policy of universal education.

Hong Kong

One of the tourist highlights of Hong Kong is a harbor ride on the famous Star Ferry from Kowloon to Hong Kong. Sunday we boarded the ferry early in the morning so we could enjoy the view before the inevitable pollution settled in for the day. The sun was shinning and the trip was spectacular.

On the Hong Kong side, as we walked along the docks we were surprised to see hoards of people sitting on cardboard flats with what appeared to be picnic lunches. We figured they must be waiting for a ferry to the outer territories. As we walked into downtown we found more of the same in city parks or any open space—people sitting on cardboard flats or stools with picnic lunches. Further examination showed that about 99% of these people were female and that there were no children. They all seemed to be having a good time—many were playing cards or just talking.

Later we learned that these were Filipino maids. Many families in Hong Kong have Filipino maids who earn about $50 per month. During the week the maids live-in with their employers. On Sundays, the universal day off, extended families of mothers and daughters get together in the parks, piers, or any other open space they can find to socialize. The rest of the week they are isolated from one another, hidden in the maze of high-rise apartment buildings that house most affluent Hong Kong residents. The men are at home in the Philippines.

Some Reflections

Waves of human migration are sweeping across Asia today. The melting pot of Asia is certainly boiling more furiously than that of the United States. Aside from Hong Kong, China has been immune from this mass international migration. Instead, in China the migration has been internal—from the rural western provinces to the industrialized eastern provinces. If China were to open its borders to international migration it would be interesting to see what would happen. Don’t forget, we are talking about one-fifth of the world’s population.

Hypothesis: The people in Beibei are very nice.

2006-09-10T08:30:00.000-07:00

Example #1
Local buses in Beibei come in two varieties: a school bus size that is usually older and more crowded and costs $0.06 per ride; and, a mini-bus that seats about 15 (and can hold up to 25) and costs $0.12 per ride. Usually there is a price induced difference in the typical clientele of the two types of buses. (If you harbor any thoughts that China is a classless society, forget it).

Monday evening we boarded one of the mini-buses and to our amazement the driver was a woman. I bet you would not have seen that a generation ago. She acted like we were long lost friends (don’t forget that all Americans look alike). There are five gates into the University with a stop at each gate. Our stop is the fifth and last gate. At the second gate she stopped for a long time and signaled to me that we should get off. I told her no and we went on. This routine was repeated at the next stop. As we approached the fifth gate I went to the front of the bus and motioned that we wanted to get off at the next stop. As she pulled over she looked at me and with great effort said “this one?” I replied “yes”. As we stepped down we both thanked her in our limited Chinese.

Example #2
Before leaving Gainesville, we sent several boxes of books ahead by mail. It was a pleasant surprise to find that books (as opposed to personal effects) could be sent at a very low rate if we were willing to accept delivery in an estimated six to ten weeks. Since we expected to arrive in Beibei in late August, I figured ten weeks delivery would require sending a shipment in mid-June. So, I put the books I had set aside for pleasure reading into three boxes and took them to the Post Office. In mid-July we sent another three boxes of texts and other teaching materials that we needed.

Upon our arrival in Beibei my most helpful faculty sponsor presented us with one box that had been delivered to the University and five claim slips that would have to be taken to the main post office to claim the other boxes. Getting to the post office is another story, but just let me say that there are some very kind, helpful people in Beibei.

At the post office we finally found the right window and presented our five slips. In short time the clerk returned with two boxes. As best we could, we tried to explain that we were expecting five boxes corresponding to the five delivery receipts. After about ten minutes of poor communication, the clerk made a phone call and in a few minutes another most kind and helpful clerk appeared who had some English capabilities. She explained that they only had the two boxes and someone who could find the other boxes would be in later in the afternoon and that they would call when they had further information. As a contact, I gave them the “foreign experts” office at SWU, but not my residential address.

About four hours later, two very nice ladies from the post office showed up at our apartment door. Through a translator we were able to determine that the five receipts included one for the package that was delivered to SWU before we arrived and the other four were first and second notices for the two packages we had picked up in the morning. The fate of the other three packages was unknown. They were extremely relieved when we told them how much we appreciated their visit to our apartment and that we did not hold them responsible for the missing packages—it was just one of those things that happens when you try to ship internationally.

The moral of this story is not about boxes of books received or lost; nor is it about an international postal service that seems to be more efficient than the clerks in Gainesville imagined. Rather it is an insight into the character of the people in Beibei. When was the last time you had a public servant (or two) come to your residence concerned that you had not received the service you expected? The day before we had a similar experience in the private sector as we went from place to place in an effort to buy a printer for our computer ($50 for an HP color inkjet).

Conclusion
Again and again, in small and frequently insignificant ways, we have been shown sincere kindness by a variety of local people with whom we can barely communicate. First impressions are lasting, and we like the people of Beibei.

Where is Beibei?

2006-09-05T12:36:00.000-07:00

Beibei is located at the junction of the Yangtze River and a small tributary. SWU is located on the ridge between the two river valleys. This is taken from the ridge looking up the valley of the small tributary. The haze is smoke from nearby wildfires.

Week 1 September 3

2006-09-05T07:30:00.000-07:00

It is hard to believe that a first week is about to pass us by. As with any venture, you win a few and you lose a few, but we have been fortunate to be on the winning side most of the time. This morning we will venture out to explore the weekly local market and to get some cash at the Bank of China ATM. The latter activity is a repeat effort to confirm that we actually have a secure access to money (i.e., cash), because a credit card is useless in this community.

One of the things that appealed to us about a sabbatical in Beibei is that Beibei is most certainly off the beaten path. There is little to distinguish Shanghai from New York City—both are big, cosmopolitan, international cities where an expat (ex-patriot) can lead a comfortable life within a compound of transplanted domestic amenities. To learn about China in such locales is about as useful as going to Disney World to learn about life in the U.S. Rest assured, for the foreign visitor to the U.S. there is more to be learned in Gainesville than at Disney. In a similar fashion, there is more to be learned about China in Beibei than in Shanghai.

Beibei is a city about the size of Gainesville with a university about the size of UF. It is located at exactly the same latitude as UF with a climate of hot summers and mild winters. Unless you use Google Earth, you will not find Beibei on a map. Instead look for the nearby provincial capital of Chongqing (sometimes spelled Chungking and pronounced as chong-ching with emphasis on neither syllable). Chongqing and the province of Schezuan are located in the southwestern part of China. This is a relatively poor part of China with per capital incomes equal to about one-fourth of the incomes along the highly developed eastern coast of China. The city of Chongqing itself has about 17 million inhabitants and what we would call the metropolitan area has about 32 million residents. Beibei is about 35 miles northwest of Chongqing.

Because southwest China is relatively impoverished, the central government is putting a lot of development effort into this part of the country. The most significant public investment is the controversial construction of the Three Gorges dam on the Yangtze River. This is the largest hydroelectric project in the world and will provide plenty of cheap, non-fossil fuel, energy to the area by 2010. It is a flood control and hydroelectric project not unlike the Tennessee Valley Authority in the 1930’s (history buffs should review the economic impact of the TVA).

We have arrived in Beibei at a most auspicious time. Unlike Gainesville with its hot-wet, cool-dry climate, Beibei has a hot-dry, cool-wet climate. This summer, however, the weather in the region has been hotter and drier than any summer on record since modern scientific records began in the 1880’s. The last rain here was in May. Temperatures have been above 100o much of the summer and everyday since we arrived. The week before we arrived, Chongqing set an all time record of 44.5oC (this is a good applied math problem for the curious). Normal summer crops which is going to be a serious problem for many of the small and self-sufficient farmers in the region

It is so hot that the SWU (Southwest University) administration decided to postpone the beginning of the Fall semester from September 4 to September 11. Most of the buildings on campus are not air-conditioned, so it pretty brutal in the dorms and the classrooms. Hopefully, relief in the form of some cooling rains will come this week. Fortunately, our apartment has A/C and we are quite comfortable.

The main water supply for Chongqing is provided by some 300 earthen reservoirs, many of which are empty. The dry dams have cracked and it is reported that many of the earthen dams have gaps as large as a meter. There is great fear that if rains come rapidly, many of the dams will fail and there will be widespread flooding. Dry wildfires are also common in the forested areas nearby. Yesterday the sky in Beibei was filled with smoke from a nearby wildfire.

In spite of the weather, we have not had a single brownout in the electric system or loss of pressure in the water system. After living in Brazil where we had neither electric nor water from 7am to 7pm during normal conditions, we feel that we are currently living a life of relative luxury here in Beibei. It is all a matter of perspective.

We've arrived!

2006-09-01T13:02:00.000-07:00

After five weeks on the road we have arrived at Beibei, home of Southwest University—a regional university of 40-50,000 students. It is a recent combination of what used to be adjacent campuses of an agricultural college and a normal school.

Vancouver was great. Honolulu is for Japanese and California tourists—we were glad we had virtually no time scheduled there. A week on the “big island” of Hawaii was a real pleasure—lots to do and really wonderful, laid-back people. New Zealand was beautiful—particularly the south island. Australia was lots of fun. Sydney is a beautiful city, greatly enhanced by the famous opera hall where we actually saw an opera. The train trip from Perth to Sydney (four days and three nights) was an adventure not to be forgotten for both the scenery and the people. Hong Kong is a busy, big city with to recommend.

Every flight and every hotel reservation went as planned. We did not have our bags opened at a single customs entry point including Chongqing where we entered the People’s Republic of China. In spite of “one country, two systems” one must pass through immigration and customs at both Hong Kong and Chongqing as if they were two countries.

We are housed in the Foreign Guest House of SWU in a one-bed apartment. We have a living room and a bedroom each of which has a room A/C unit. In addition we have a nice bathroom, small kitchen, and enclosed porch. The kitchen comes equipped with a gas burner, microwave and a fridge. We have a space heater and TV in the living room and a washing machine on the porch which serves as a drying room. We are a short walk away from sellers of water and beer and a small up-scale restaurant. We have explored and found some other places to eat. We have independently made a trip to downtown and back by local bus. That was a fun adventure.

The weather here at this time of year is hot and dry. This year as been unusually hot and dry. They are calling it a drought and the temp has hit 114 which is a 55 year record. The three days we have been here have been 100 or above with nice sunshine. People are out and about in the morning but then disappear for an afternoon siesta. Life seems to begin about 6:00pm with dinner in the 8-10pm range. Food is an adventure, particularly when you can’t read one word of the menu. In Beibei, unlike Hong Kong, street signs, bus signs, and menus come in one language only and that is not English. Many signs on campus are in both Chinese and English.