http://www.wikio.co.uk/blog/search/Fuzhou Wikio Blogs - search: Fuzhou wikio wikio http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66773795 For those of you who have kept up with this blog over the past two years, you probably remember when I worked at the Red Sun* barbershop for a month in May of 2007. With 8/8/08 rapidly approaching, I decided to spend my last week of pre-Olympic vacation in Fuzhou, my former Chinese stomping grounds. Of course, a trip back to Fuzhou wouldn'??t be complete without a trip to the barbershop. Since I had last been in Fuzhou, much has changed at the Red Sun. For one thing, only two of the little brothers who were at the Red Sun when I was employed are still there. The rest have either moved on to work in other shops, or completely different lines of work altogether. Several of the former Red Sun employees are now working in Ding Chuang, a new barbershop Mr. Zheng has opened just five minutes away from the Red Sun. Mr. Zheng has also installed Internet enabled computers in both of the barbershops. At first, employees were allowed to use them, but only when no customers were in the shop. Since some employees were abusing the privilege, Mr. Zheng decided to forbid them to be used by anyone except customers, enforceable by a 50 RMB fine. Mr. Zheng also plans to completely remodel The Red Sun next month. All employees will receive an unprecedented 2 week vacation, but unfortunately won'??t be able to get paid for any of it. I spent most of my week catching up with all my former co-workers, and here???s a little wrap-up of what everybody'??s been up to. Mr. Zheng has continued his aspirations to be more of a businessman and less of a barber, and opening Ding Chuang was a major step in this direction. He now splits his time between the two shops, acting as the manager for both. He still gives occasional haircuts to old customers, but is trying to focus more of his energy on management. Adamum ended his tenure at The Red Sun shortly after I left China last summer. He went back to his hometown of Lianjiang for several months before returning to Fuzhou to open his own tiny barbershop located just around the corner from the Red Sun. In his shop, Adamum is the only master (barber) and there are only two little brothers. ???This shop is pretty crappy, don'??t you think? But at least it'??s mine. I wasn'??t getting too many customers at ???The Red Sun.??? I like being my own buss,??? he told me. Adamum still hopes to one day achieve his lifelong dream of illegally immigrating to the United States. Johnny left The Red Sun shortly after I did. Miraculously, the decision to leave was his own, not Mr. Zheng???s. Supposedly he returned to his hometown. Nobody has heard from him in months. Jie Lun and Xiao Lei are the only two of the little brothers and sisters who are still at The Red Sun. Jie Lun is going to become a master next month, and Xiao Lei is still washing hair and giving massages. Xiao Xia finished her tenure as a little sister shortly after I left The Red Sun. She is now working as a master at Ding Chuang. Xiao Wang is still cutting hair for Mr. Zheng, but next week will be moving to Shanghai. His girlfriend, Xiao Xia???s sister, is already there and working. ???I???m not sure what I???ll do when I???m there. Maybe cut hair, maybe something else, but it'??s time to move on. I???ve been in Fuzhou for 7 years,??? he told me. After four years at The Red Sun, Jiang, who is the longest currently running employee, has also decided it is time to move on. His last day will be the fifteenth. He has been reading a lot of business books lately and is considering a possible career change. His son is now four years old and still being raised by Jiang???s parents in his hometown of Youxi. He still does not recognize Jiang as his father. Cheng Qing is still at the Red Sun, and after Xiao Wang and Jiang leave, he will be the only master left who was there when I was employed. He, Xiao Xia, and Xiao Wang currently share a three bedroom unfinished apartment near The Red Sun ???dormitory'?? which serves as an unofficial hangout for many of the employees after work hours are finished. Guang Tou is no longer ???guang tou'?? (bald). He has a full head of hair. When I ran into him unexpectedly in a kiosk on my way to Ding Chuang he shouted out my name and I didn'??t even recognize him. He is now working as a master at Ding Chuang, and is engaged to Xiao Huang, who formerly worked the register at The Red Sun. She is now working as a cashier in a clothing store. As planned, Mao Mao quit her job as a little sister at the Roman Barber Shop shortly after I returned to the United States. When Ding Chuang opened, she joined Xiao Xia and Guang Tou as the shop???s original three masters. She is still the only master who enjoys her line of work, and still hopes one day to become an internationally famous hair stylist. Ling Ling is still working the cash register at The Red Sun. Just before I left China, she told me privately that she was going to quit, but I guess that plan never panned out. Xiao Long returned to his hometown of Ningde several months ago where he has some family connections in the government. He is currently studying for the test to become a civil servant. Nobody could tell me anything about Carrottop???s whereabouts. Mr. Zheng didn'??t even remember him when I brought him up. Xiao Fang finished his barber training and has now become a master at another barber shop in Fuzhou. Chen Lin, who at 26 was by far the oldest little brother or sister in the shop, is also working at another barber shop in Fuzhou. I asked him if he had become a master yet. He laughed and said, ???Nope, still washing hair.??? During my six days in Fuzhou, I spent the better part of most afternoons and evenings, chatting with my old buddies, performing colorful experiments on each other???s hair, and doing what we all do best, killing time in the barber shop. On my last night in town, we all went out to a local Fuzhou bar, to party the night away with Tsingtao???s and a Filipino cover band. Almost everybody came out, and even several of the employees who are no longer employed at The Red Sun showed up as well. In addition to teaching me more than I ever imagined I would learn about life in China, my former co-workers have also become some of my closest personal friends. We still keep in regular contact via QQ, and whenever I am in China we exchange frequent text messages as they sit around the shop waiting for customers. The next time I return to Fuzhou, The Red Sun will hardly resemble the shop I worked in for 30 days back in May of 2007. The interior of the shop will look completely different, and likely only a handful of my former employees will still be working for Mr. Zheng. Yet I know my times at the Red Sun will never be forgotten as I look back at my years in the Middle Kingdom. Below I???ve added some pics from the week back in Fuzhou. Enjoy. *When I originally began blogging about my experiences in the barbershop, I kept the shop???s name (and those of my co-workers) private. Since then, my colleagues have all insisted to me that my concerns about protecting their privacy are far too American, and that I should go ahead and use real names. However, in order to prevent confusion, I have continued using pseudonyms for all of the employees. me with Mr. Zheng Guang Tou, me, and Xiao Xia Jiang; waiting for customers Xiao Wang; striking the official Chinese snap shot pose in the front of the barbershop shop A trip back to the barbershop wouldn'??t be complete without major modifications to my own hair style. Before I left Fuzhou, Xiao Wang gave me a spiky do and blond highlights. me with Ling Ling (right) and Wen Bing, Mr. Zheng???s brother who is now working as a master at the Red Sun Cheng Qing, Jiang, and Xiao Wang at the bar more from the bar; me with Xiao Fang (middle) and Cheng Lin, who met up with us for the night out Mao Mao and Xiao Xia Adamum and Xiao Xia the full group photo, after several rounds of Tsingtao and dice one final look at the Red Sun before it gets remodeled Mr. Zheng tells me it will look totally different next time I come back. After I left, Mr. Zheng hung this shot of me, him and the masters in the back of shop. Clockwise from the back left that'??s Guang Tou, Mr. Zheng, Xiao Wang, Adamum, Cheng Qing, me, and Jiang Tue, 05 Aug 2008 15:07:00 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66773795 Ben 2008-08-05T15:07:00Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66478424 Have a look at this card which came into my possession the other night when I was out bar hopping in Fuzhou. For those of you whose eyes are as bad as mine, here’s what the writing says: 外籍卡使用须知 The foreign card usage beard know This card is a foreign card, only for foreigner. 此卡外籍卡，限外国人使用 Can get to present 3 bottles of beers for specify everyday with this card. 凭此卡每天可获赠３瓶指定的啤酒 End explain power to return the prada bar all. 最终解释权归PRADA BAR 所有 The “Prada Bar,” a popular watering hole in Fuzhou, employs a marketing strategy which has been growing in Second Tier cities across China where foreign faces still number in the hundreds. It works in three steps. 1) Attract foreigners to the bar with free beer. 2) Next will come the Chinese girls, who are interested in foreign guys as well as English practice. 3) Finally, the wealthy Chinese businessmen will swoop in after the Chinese girls. The bar owner will lose money up front, but ultimately makes his buck when the Chinese businessmen spend hundreds of RMB on expensive bottles of imported whiskey. In China, bars are costly, out of the price range of an average working citizen’s salary. A Fuzhou bar owner told me, “If a bar’s prices are too cheap, Chinese people won’t go to it. They will think it’s a second-rate bar. They might lose face if they take their friends there. If the prices are expensive, it will give customers a better impression.” With Westerners the logic is reversed. In a city like Fuzhou, in which the foreigner population is only large enough to support 1 or 2 “laowai bars,” the crowd of foreigners usually follows the drink specials. Whomever is selling Tsingtao’s for 10 RMB has a shot at attracting the crowd of white, black, and brown faces. More expensive than that, and only Chinese patrons will show up. Since the foreigners generally will only pay 10 RMB for beer (some bars sell them in upwards 30 RMB), there isn’t much profit to be made off this demographic anyway. Instead, bar owners are oftne better off using the foreigners as loss leaders to attract the high-rolling Chinese businessmen. In Wenzhou, a Taiwanese businessman who goes by the name “Cowboy Eric” has opened three night clubs around a country Western theme. Cowboy Eric speaks fluent English, dons an oversized cowboy hat, and can be seen leading patrons in drunken renditions of “La Bamba.” In each bar, foreign patrons are greeted with free 6 packs of Tsingtao and occasionally complimentary steaks. All three of his bars are filled to the brim every weekend, with droves patrons often spilling over to the outside. As China’s foreign population increases, special priviledges for foreigners are likely to become less prevalent. Whereas in small urban centers like Fuzhou and Wenzhou, using foreigners to attract Chinese patrons has proven succeessful, in major cities such as Beijing and Shanghai, these marketing efforts have little effect. Foreigners there are an every day occurrance, nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly no reason to patronize a bar. For me, although I have seen the “free beer for whitey” strategy practice for several years, the Prada Bar is the first bar I have known to have an official policy, not to mention one backed up by membership cards. I can’t help but wonder if I were Chinese whether I might feel a little knee-jerk resentment knowing foreigners get free beer simply on account of their nationality. Sun, 03 Aug 2008 03:16:00 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66478424 Ben 2008-08-03T03:16:00Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=67346552 The Beijing Olympiad is almost three days old. Here are my initial thoughts. -The “completely sold out” tickets for most events are cheap and widely available. Every day I have been picking events, showing up at the gate, and looking for second hand tickets. Other than high demand events like basketball, most tickets can easily be bought for face value second hand if you are willing to stand around the gate for fifteen minutes. Face value for most events is under 100 RMB (approx $15 USD). I bought boxing tickets for only 30 RMB ($4 USD). -Yesterday’s weather reminded me of typhoons in Fuzhou. After half an hour of torrential downpour, there was standing water almost a foot deep. The rowing events could have been held on the Third Ring Road. -Maybe I am just too American, but I was completely taken back by the fact you can get a beer for 5 RMB (less than 1 US dollar) inside the venues. Snacks are cheap too! Beijing and/or the IOC easily could have price gorged Olympic guests for much more than that, but instead concessions are priced cheaply, even by Chinese standards. In another pleasant surprise, I was watching judo when the Hurricane Yao hit yesterday. The Olympic volunteers passed out free ponchos to all attendees. If this was the US, they would have been selling them for ten bucks. Gotta love the 经济奥运 (economical Olympics). -I watched the Opening Ceremony with two American friends in a Scandinavian bar. We were all a little worried about the reaction we would receive when we cheered for the American team. When our guys came out, the entire bar cheered. When CCTV panned to a shot of W, the entire crowd booed in unison…clockwork. -Last night, I saw the US v. China men’s basketball game in a movie theater. By my count, we out-dunked them about 35-2. The problem was if we play with as much over-confidence and as little effort on defense as we did last night, we are going to get smoked by Argentina or Spain. I’d put the US’s chances of winning the gold this year at about 50/50. -Kudos to the city of Beijing for preparing itself of the onslaught of foreign guests. An American friend of mine who had lived in China for five years, but had never been to Beijing, spent the first two days of the Olympics here with me. On multiple occasions, he remarked, “Beijing is so clean and orderly.” There are many of us who are fans of Beijing, but how often is it for those reasons? Mon, 11 Aug 2008 02:58:00 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=67346552 Ben 2008-08-11T02:58:00Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66767235 On the surface, Mardi Gras looks like good, cheap (if not always clean) fun. On the internet, $17 will buy ten dozen Mardi Gras beads––roughly what a group of revelers might be expected to toss as bait for tossed-off tops on Bourbon Street in a single hour. This ritual––one part libido, one part alcohol, one [...] Tue, 05 Aug 2008 20:41:48 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66767235 Karina Longworth 2008-08-05T20:41:48Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66720955 A city wall tower and very clearly, the moat, Beijing, 1840-1860: just one of the many photos from around the Pacific, circa 1840-1940, now to be found online at the National Gallery of Australia’s Picture Paradise exhibition. Well worth browsing through this eclectic collection of shots of everything from Australian aborigines to Javanese dancers, a [...] Tue, 05 Aug 2008 14:06:35 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66720955 Lyn Jeffery 2008-08-05T14:06:35Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66539835 Yangshuo-Guilin-Tour Mon, 04 Aug 2008 03:38:30 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66539835 2008-08-04T03:38:30Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66304153 For those of you who are regulars to this blog, you probably know I have an ongoing feud with the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China (ICBC). Without rehashing the entire story (you can read part 1 and part 2 here), basically through a combination of faulty machinery, silly regulations, and a slice of human error, I essentially had my assets frozen. Because my ATM password had allegedly been entered incorrectly three times, and therefore my account was frozen, and I could not make withdrawals. Since my account was originally opened in Fujian, I was told there was nothing the ICBC in Beijing could do. I would have to return to Fujian to settle the matter. Fortunately, a return trip to Fujian was part of my China summer itinerary. This past Sunday I left Wenzhou (where I had been for 5 days visiting friends), and headed for Fuqing, the small town an hour outside Fuzhou in which I lived my first year in China (and where I had opened my ICBC account). The ICBC in Beijing had told me that I only needed to return “a Fujian branch” of ICBC to reset my password. Just to be on the safe side, I decided it would be best to go to the actual city where my account was opened. My arch Nemesis, the Industrial and Commerical Bank of China, always seems to have the upper hand when it comes to making my personal financial affairs in China a living nightmare. On my first day in Fuqing, I was met by a typhoon. Typhoons are common in Fujian in the summer, and since Fuqing sits just a few miles from the ocean, it gets hit hard. Winds howl, the rain persists for days on end, and often billboards are blown off their sign posts. Most residents just stay home and wait it out. I made it to ICBC at 2:30 in the afternoon, only to be told they were closing early because of the typhoon, and that I would have to return the following day. So the next day I woke bright and early, and arrived at ICBC at 9:30 am. Upon talking the clerk, I realized that my extra precautions had been well-thought out. “Yes, in order to reset your password you do have to be in Fuqing. This can not be done in Beijing or even Fuzhou,” he told me. “However, you can not do it at this branch. You must go to the exact same branch where you opened your account.” The clerk looked up my account on the computer, and then hand wrote the address of the downtown branch where I would need to go. (Fuqing is a tiny city and the whole thing can be covered on foot in a matter of hours, yet like most small Chinese towns, ICBC branches number in the double digits). I flagged down a cab, and headed over to the downtown area and await my date with Chinese banking destiny. When I arrived at ICBC, I explained my situation to the clerk behind the teller window, and told her I had been sent there by the other branch. “You need to talk to that man over there,” she said, pointing to a man seated at a desk in the lobby. “He’s the manager. He can help you.” I walked across the lobby and sat down in the chair facing the manager’s desk. He had been chatting with a group of redundant security guards, and turned around to face me. “How can I help you'” “Ok, here’s my situation. I arrived in Beijing, and the first thing I did was to go to an ICBC ATM at the airport to withdraw money. I put my card in the first machine. It spit it out saying that the ATM was out of service. Then I tried another ATM, and had the same result. Finally, I found a third ATM, entered my password and mistyped a character. I tried to withdraw again, and the machine told me I had exceeded three incorrect logins, and I could no longer make a withdrawal. I am currently staying in Beijing, so I went to a Beijing ICBC branch and explained my situation to them. They said I would need to reset my password, and this could only be done in Fujian, so here I am.” “I see,” he said. “Well, the clerk in Beijing was right. It is an ICBC regulation that resetting one’s password must be done at the branch where they opened their account…So let’s get you taken care of. All you need to do is fill out these forms…” “check” “make a copy of your passport…” “got it right here” “and come back in seven days to come back and change your password.” “Seven days? I’ll be back in Beijing by then!” “Well then you will just have to do it next time you come back to Fuqing and stay for seven days.” “I live in Chicago,” I exclaimed to him, still keeping my composure and polite form, “It’s not like I book regular seven day stays in Fuqing whenever I please. I really have no idea when the next time I will be in Fuqing will be, or if I will ever stay a full seven days. I already came all the way from Beijing, and I just want to get my money.” “Yeah, I know. I really want to help you, and the system is quite inefficient, but there is nothing we can do. Regulations are regulations.” He sat there pondering. I could see he was honestly trying to figure out a way to get me out of my predicament. “There is one thing,” he shot up, “You can find a local person in Fuqing, put in a password change request, and then sign your account over to them. In seven days they can come back, change your password, withdraw your money, and send it to you.” It was a round-about, yet brilliant idea, and I knew exactly who I could trust to help me with the situation. I called my old colleague from my former university, Da Sen, who incidentally was also the first person I ever met in China. Da Sen had been the representative from the school who had picked me up at the airport when I first arrived. He was also the teacher assigned to be my helper, and thus had assisted me with tasks such as opening a bank account, getting a haircut, locating deodorant, and all the other daily troubles China newbies need assistance with. The typhoon was raging full speed by this time, and I felt a little uneasy asking Da Sen to come out in such horrible weather to be my assistant in wading through bureaucracy, but there was no other alternative. I flagged down a taxi, headed over to the university, picked up Da Sen, and the two of us returned to ICBC. Armed with my forms, my passport, and now a local to whom I could sign over my account, I strolled back into ICBC confident that once and for all the matter would be resolved. A young girl, no older than twenty was seated behind the teller window. Da Sen and I approached the window, and I explained my situation to her. “I need to reset my password, but I will not be in Fuqing for 7 days. I want to sign my account over to my friend so that he can withdraw the money, and then send it to me. Here are all the forms, my passport, and his ID card.” Before I could slip the documents under the teller window, the young girl retorted, “That is impossible.” “What do you mean? All I want to do is sign my account over to him so that he can change my password. I have both of our ID’s and all the forms right here.” “You can’t do that.” she turned to the other tellers sitting behind the windows on both sides of her. “No, that is impossible. We can not do that for you,” one of them replied in agreement while the other shook her head. My Chinese bank vocabulary is pretty solid, but even still, I could normally attribute a situation like this to a possible misinterpretation on my part. That would hold water had it not been for the fact that Da Sen, who is Chinese, had also spoken with the manager on the phone before he came to the bank, and clearly understood his instructions about signing my account over to him. By now I was getting angry, and this was being reflected in my tone of voice. “The manager who was sitting at the desk over there specifically told me I could do it. he was sitting right there, and he specifically told me I could sign my account over to a friend.” The manager had apparently gone to lunch and was now nowhere to be seen. I pointed over to the desk where he had been sitting, hoping the teller would know who I was referring to. “Oh him'…He’s not really the manager,” she said. “Yes he is, he said he was the 经理. His button said 经理.”* “He’s just the 经理of the lobby. He doesn’t have any authority. What he said doesn’t matter. I am afraid you are just going to have to come back in seven days to reset your password.” “Listen, I came all the way from Beijing, and was specifically told I could sign my account over to my friend. I have already visited two separate branches, was told to leave and come back with a Chinese friend, got my friend, brought him back here through the typhoon, and have already wasted hours of my time based on instructions I was given by your bank. I am not leaving without this matter being resolved.” The three teller women conferred with one another, and after about ten minutes of deliberation, including some argumentative but civil words from Da Sen, they relented. “Ok, you can sign the account over to him. But you are going to need to fill out those forms all over again, and I will need to make copies of both of your IDs.” As Da Sen and I labored through the paperwork, the girl took our IDs and made copies. When she emerged, she and the other employees huddled around the copies, once again. After several minutes, she returned to the teller window. “I am sorry, but the person on this passport is not the same person as the one who holds this account.” “That’s impossible!” I shouted back, using the same lingo I have so often heard from bank employees.** “Look here. The owner of this account is ‘Benjamin Ross,’ but this passport is for ‘Benjamin David Ross.’” From this point, Da Sen, also growing increasingly frustrated, took over. “Look, in the United States most people have a middle name. However, they rarely use it. Usually they just write their first and last name. So it’s really just the same.” “But the name on the passport must match the name on the bank account,” the girl sternly replied. “That’s not our fault!” Da Sen argued back. “I was with him when we opened the account. We presented you with his passport. If the bank did not write it the same as it is on the passport, then that is the bank’s fault, not ours.” “That does not matter. We still need proof that this is the same person as the one on the bank account.” This was the point where my anger began morphing into pure amusement. Fuqing has few, if any, foreign residents. It is quite likely that I am probably the only American who has ever opened an ICBC account in Fuqing, let alone the only American with the name of “Benjamin Ross” to have opened on. I had my bank card with me, as well as a passport with a picture of a guy who looked strikingly similar to the one standing in front of the teller window. Even a chimpanzee with Alzheimer’s could have ascertained I was the rightful owner of the account. After conferring with her colleagues, the girl turned to us once again. “We will need to send your documentation over to the main provincial ICBC office in Fuzhou. They will research the matter and determine whether or not there is enough proof that you are the proper owner of the bank account. Come back after three o’clock and we will tell you the result.” I already had afternoon plans to hang out with my barbershop buddies in Fuzhou and would have to leave Fuqing around lunch time. There was no chance I could be back at the bank at three. “What if they determine there is not enough proof?” I asked. “Then you will need to fill out all the paperwork to do a proper name change.” “Can I just do all the paperwork now, just in case it doesn’t work out? Then I won’t have to make a second trip to Fuqing.” “No, you can not. We will need to research it first, and then you can come back after three, and fill out the paperwork then.” Confused, frustrated, angry, dejected, and with feelings bordering on violence and rage, I left the bank. Never before in my life have I ever had the urge to barge into a public venue, strapped with a vest of dynamite. Now, at least I knew that if it ever came to that, I would know exactly where to go. I made my way to the bus station where I boarded the bus to Fuzhou, wondering whether I would ever see my money again. Around four o’clock, I received a phone call from Da Sen. “The bank manager called me, and told me that they found there was not significant proof to show the bank account was yours. You are going to need to go back to Fuqing to fill out a ‘name change’ form, and then the do the ‘password reset’ forms all over again. There is no other way to get your money.” So the following day I took the bus back to Fuqing, and met Da Sen back at the bank. We asked to speak with the manager who had originally contacted him, and when she came out from the back, I spoke. “Hello, I am that foreigner in question who needs proof that the account is his.” “Oh yes, I remember. You are going to need to go to the other branch first, and submit the name change form. They are in charge of name changes on accounts. Then bring the name change form back to this branch and we will submit the password change.” So Da Sen and I took his electric bike over to the ICBC branch which was in charge of name changes. We filled out several forms on which I carefully printed my name as ‘Benjamin David Ross,” and returned to the original branch. After another ten minutes of forms, we were done. Compared with the previous day, going from bank to bank to bank and filling out a mountain of paperwork seemed like a relatively seamless trip to ICBC. The manager assured me that in seven days Da Sen will be able to return to the bank, fill out more paperwork, change my password, withdraw my money, and send it to me in Beijing…I’m giving it a 50/50 chance everything works out. * (jing1 li3, manager) **The actual phrase I used was 不可能 (bu4 ke3 neng2), which literally means “impossible.” Fri, 01 Aug 2008 07:21:00 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66304153 Ben 2008-08-01T07:21:00Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66193659 The China label market has archieved a growth rate of 15%-20% over the last ten years, higher than the global market growth rate of 3-6%. The South China (Pearl River Economy Delta) progresses by ... read more Thu, 31 Jul 2008 02:05:00 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66193659 2008-07-31T02:05:00Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66093685 The China label market has archieved a growth rate of 15%-20% over the last ten years, higher than the global market growth rate of 3-6%. The South C 1 Vote(s) Wed, 30 Jul 2008 18:59:37 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=66093685 2008-07-30T18:59:37Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=65617778 For the past four days, I’ve been doing something I have honestly never done before in China—take a trip for completely social reasons, with little desire to sightsee, explore, or do anything remotely Chinese. I have been staying in Wenzhou, a coastal, wealthy city in Zhejiang province, where some of my old friends from Fuzhou are now teaching. My friends here are all American and British, and it has been a welcome break to take a short rest from China, even though I am technically still, in China. Usually, whenever I arrive in a Chinese city for the first time, I spend at least a full day canvassing the city by foot and by bus, trying to take in and observe what I can of my new surroundings. What is unique about this particular city? In what ways is it exactly the same as every other Chinese city? How exposed/hospitable are the locals towards foreigners? What does the local dialect sound like? What is the most recent local street food rage? et cetera, et cetera. I had been to Wenzhou once before, but only for an afternoon, not long enough to gain any real feel for the city. Nonetheless, I decided that this stop on my China trip would be purely social. I had done enough site seeing and exploring in Dongbei last week, and could use a little time to relax with Western friends in a relatively insular environment. Try as I might not to pay attention to my surroundings, as we were walking home from the laowai bar the other night, it hit me how strikingly similar Wenzhou was to Fuzhou. This is partly to be expected, as Fuzhou is only four hours away from my former Chinese home. But then something else dawned on me. Up until this week, I had spent my entire China trip in the North. Although I have traveled to the North on many occasions, I would estimate over 90% of my total time in China has been spent down South. My trip this summer, which has taken me to Beijing, Tianjin, Hebei, Heilongjiang, Jilin, and Liaoning, has been the first time I have ever come to China, without stepping foot below the Yangtze (长江) River. I was now back down South, and suddenly my surroundings felt different, very different. China, in its most rudimentary geographic regionalization is broken down between the “North” and the “South” with the Yangtze being the generally accepted dividing line. While this delineation is certainly an overgeneralization, and doesn’t speak much for the Western portion of the country, there is a considerable amount of accuracy to the North/South divide. Here are just a few of the differences which I have been reminded of now that I am back down South again. The Weather: I thought it was hot in Beijing. I even thought it was humid in Beijing. Let me assure you of this. Once I return to the capital city, I will never, ever, complain about summer heat and humidity in the North again. I take one step out of the door in Wenzhou, and my clothes are instantly sticking to my body. The North may be hot, but if I stay down South any longer, I am afraid my internal organs will melt. The Money: Wenzhou is certainly an extreme example in this category, but if I got a free baozi for every BMW I saw on the streets here, I would die one incredibly fat man. While there is affluence in the North these days as well, it isn’t nearly as opulent as it is in the South(east). The Language: I never imagined I would say this, but it is refreshing to be surrounded by the kind of scraggly Putonghua I got used to in Fujian, once again. It’s also pleasant to hear dialects spoken in cities. Even though I can’t understand them, I’ve always appreciated the idea of a region having its own language, that outsiders could not comprehend. This is something you don’t see in Northern cities (but do occasionally hear in rural areas). The Fashions: Beijing is full of hipsters wearing the latest fashions in everything from the latest out of Italy and France to Goth-punk. But, like most other Northern Cities, it also has an even larger contingent who are happy wearing bland, mono-chromatic clothing, which looks as if it was purchased just a few months after the Cu1tural Revo1ution. The average southerner is more likely to be wearing a more varied blend of semi-current foreign styles, and less formal gear. Take taxi drivers for example. Your average Beijing cabbie will be wearing a white button down shirt, black (or blue) slacks, and black shoes. Down South, you’re much more likely to be driven around by a guy wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and possibly flip-flops. The Rice: I came to Fujian as a non-believer and left an addict. I remember my first few weeks eating at my university’s cafeteria. All of my students were afraid I would starve to death, because I was only eating meat and vegetables, no rice. It took a while to get used to, but after a month I was eating rice twice a day, every day, and sometimes 3 times if I had porridge for breakfast. If I didn’t get my rice, I was hungry half an hour later, and still am to this day if I eat Chinese food without those tiny grains of goodness. While Northerners thesedays eat rice too, it isn’t nearly as automatic as it is in the South. The folks up North will happily substitute noodles, dumplings or mantou (Chinese steamed bread) instead of rice as the staple food. Down South, this doesn’t fly so well. Eating a meal (吃饭) means eating rice, both literally and practically. There are countless other South/North differences, and I am sure a Chinese would have an even deeper perspective on the matter than myself. In addition to the quantifiable ones I have listed above, the South just has a different vibe from the North. It’s hard to put a finger on exactly what it is, but I am sure anybody who has spent time in both regions of China would feel the same way. The best analogy I can think of would be comparing New York and San Francisco, both excellent cities in their own right. It would be easy to write out a laundry list of differences between the two, but beyond that, there is still a different vibe, a different feeling you get walking down the street, that is difficult to put into words. As for me, I will be leaving Wenzhou soon to spend a week back in Fuzhou, and then back up North to Beijing just in time for the Olympics. Until then, I will most likely be sweating like a panda, feeling financially inferior to many of my Chinese acquaintances, and consuming massive quantities of white rice. Sat, 26 Jul 2008 07:33:00 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=65617778 Ben 2008-07-26T07:33:00Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=64711716 Xinhua Fuzhou (China), July 18 (Xinhua) Tropical storm Kalmaegi hit China’s southeast coast Friday after causing severe devastation in Taiwan, leaving at least 13 dead and eight missing, officials said. The relatively weakened typhoon made landfall in Xiapu county in Fujian province Friday evening with winds of up to 90 km per hour, the provincial meteorological [...] Fri, 18 Jul 2008 16:29:31 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=64711716 IANS 2008-07-18T16:29:31Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=64617499 If you've got lots of cash to spare, this news will get you wet. A new 20,000 square foot private club is going to open in the penthouse floor of the 24-storey Cross Tower on Fuzhou Lu by the Bund which is soon going to be renamed M1NT Tower after the name of the exclusive club also present in Hong Kong and Cannes. What makes this club special is that it is owned by members who are also shareholders — and not just any Tom, Dick or Harry mind you. M1NT Shanghai is going to have a maximum of 500 shareholders and another 2,000 ordinary members who pay annual fees. According to Marc van der Chijs (of Tudou fame) who's considering taking up membership, M1NT boasts of 7 metre high ceilings, an unobstructed 360 degree view of the city, and a 17-metre long hammerhead shark fish tank (okay, that lucky shark is not going to get killed for its fins). Hopping over to M1NT 's website, we found that CNN calls it "the exclusive cocktail club that caters to jet-set billionaires", while Glamour magazine calls it a place where you can "make money while you party". We still don't know how much entry to the club will set you back, but clearly this ain't the place where you'll find Shanghaiist hanging out. For those of you interested in becoming a shareholder, get in touch with them here and you could be part of Marc's party posse real soon. Fri, 18 Jul 2008 00:32:42 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=64617499 Kenneth Tan 2008-07-18T00:32:42Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=64431644 Our company is a legitimate and local company. We are register in the Chinese government. We are agent of Chinese school, college, university to recruit ... Mon, 14 Jul 2008 15:15:57 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=64431644 2008-07-14T15:15:57Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=63773301 David Redmon's excellent 2005 documentary, MARDI GRAS: MADE IN CHINA, will finally see a home video release on July 29. Winner of the Florida Film Festival Grand Jury Award for Best Documentary Feature, the film remarkably was the first of... Fri, 11 Jul 2008 00:24:57 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=63773301 2008-07-11T00:24:57Z http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=63254395 Before I ever started learning a word of Putonghua (Mandarin), a friend of mine who had been a college Chinese major gave me this advice: Learn from a Northerner, not a Southerner. The reason being that because most Southerners grow up speaking dialects, and then learning Mandarin with the influence of the local tongue. Thus, their Putonghua is less “standard” from those from the North who grow up speaking a variant of Putonghua as their native language. The prevailing generalization, which most Chinese would attest to as well, is that people in the North speak clear, standard Putonghua. Those in the South do not. My posse of rural Hebei kids, posing with their new “maiguo pengyou.” This certainly held true in Fujian. In Fuzhou, most of the population still speaks the Fuzhou dialect, which is completely incomprehensible to anyone who grew up more than roughly two hours away from Fuzhou. However, I would estimate that 99% of the Fuzhou population under the age of 65 also speaks Mandarin with native fluency. However, they do so with complete disregard for several of Putonghua’s consonant sounds, namely sh, zh, ch, r, f, and h. Therefore, when a Fuzhou local speaks Mandarin, it is 100% comprehensible to a Chinese from another region, or a laowai studying Chinese for that matter…Albeit, it does sound a little funny. Since Putonghua is based on the Beijing dialect of Mandarin, the commonly accepted theory is that, the closer to Beijing one grows up, the more standard their Mandarin will be. However, my recent trip through rural Hebei has me thinking this theory may not be so cut and dry. On my trip back from the Yu Village to Shijiazhuang, I had two hours to kill in a small village called Jin Nan, where the local train to Shijiazhuang passes through once a day. I decided to meander through the tiny village which was more of a stop-off point for dump trucks carrying coal than a town in and of itself. I imagine Jin Nan is not the type of place where 6-foot white guys with Swiss Army backpacks are an every day occurrence, and I was instantly accosted by two eleven-year-old elementary school students. “Where are you from'” they inquired curiously. “The United States,” I replied. “American…he’s American, they giggled.” Only, rather than mei3 guo2 ren2, their word for ‘American’ sounded more like mai2 guo2 ren2. Both the tone and the vowel sound of the word 美 had been switched. Had I not known the context, I probably would have had no idea what they were saying. The kids continued following me, yelling for their friends along the way, until I had a posse of around 7 or 8 eleven-year-olds following me around yelling out “mai2 guo2 ren2” for all to hear. I decided to take the opportunity to ask them some questions about their school studies and life in the small village. However, from the minute they began answering my questions I realized that while they could understand everything I said, I was barely catching 50% of what was coming from their mouths. This was interesting because not only because we were less than 150 miles from Beijing, but also because generally speaking, children’s Putonghua is by far and away the easiest to understand as a Chinese second-language learner. There are two reasons for this. The first is obvious. Children use simpler vocabularies than adults. The second reason, however, is that in China, the younger one is, the more likely they are to speak more standard Putonghua. This has to do with both the government’s emphasis on Putonghua in schools since the early 1950’s, and probably to an even greater extent, the mass exposure to Putonghua TV and movies in the past few decades. This was honestly the first time (since I got comfortable with Chinese) I have ever had difficulty communicating with small children on account of their accents…and it was happening just outside of Beijing! Why then, would it be so difficult for me to understand the Putonghua of children from Hebei, just outside of Beijing, when I could understand the Putonghua of rural Fujian children without such problem? The answer lies in the degree of diversion between Putonghua and the “dialects.” Because the dialects in Fujian* are completely unintelligible to outsiders, Fujian people have to consciously switch back and forth between their “dialect” and Putonghua. In the North, the dialects, while quite different from standard Putonghua, are still understandable to Chinese outsiders. I would imagine a native Chinese speaker could have understood about 95% of what those Hebei kids were saying. For comparison sake, it would be like someone from Chicago speaking English with a Jamaican with a thick accent. Though it might require some careful listening, the Chicagoan would probably understand most of what the Jamaican was saying. Yet a Chinese who was studying English as a second language, it would not be so easy. Because of this, northerners in rural areas can often get away with speaking their dialect rather than standard Putonghua. Thus, communicating in Putonghua in a northern province such as Hebei, can actually be more difficult than using Putonghua in a remote southern location, like Fuzhou. This idea however, only applies to rural areas. In major urban centers, Putonghua tends to prevail over local dialects. In Northern cities where the local dialects are closer to the Beijing tongue, this translates into standard Mandarin. In the South, which is linguistically distant from Beijing, this translates into Putonghua with a southern accent. *For the record, I consider the native tongues of Fujian to be separate languages from Mandarin, not dialects. Mon, 07 Jul 2008 01:05:00 GMT http://www.wikio.co.uk/info?id=63254395 Ben 2008-07-07T01:05:00Z