zhong guizzle report (I am inspired to make another one because of Mlle Chong)

Living in China has made me feel detached? Connected? Detached? Connected?


I am happy to report that, to the best of my knowledge, China is the only country in the world that will not look down on me because I am Chinese. With that piece of information, you'd think I'd feel more or less at home; as if Zhong Guo xiang wo de jia yi yang.

It is really discomforting to have fanfare when coming home. That is to say, I don't really fancy all this extra attention, unnecessary praise, and superfluous showcasing, all of which is inspired by the same force: money. The general assumption is that I'm a foreigner, I am rich, and I don't know any better. There are several rather clever and sneaky -- and may I say ingenious? -- ways to get the best of me. I don't wish to go into detail right now, though.

However, an important note: this feeling of foreigner malaise is not a permanent one; truly, there are some incredibly kind Chinese people here who far outnumber the less than incredibly kind. And it is because of this large sum of people (this is China; think about it -- the sum is huge!) that I felt hen gaoxing when my language partner said "our country."

So sometimes, yes, to my dismay, shopkeepers and restaurateurs cater to what they think will be my whims. But something else that bothers me is the amount of people at school who bend so easily to ideas of the time and popular trends -- do you know who you are, you freaks, you yesmen, you hollow people? Shouldn't it make you sad that our lao shi can choose a stereotype, ask you about it, and get the answer they expect? Doesn't it disturb you?

But then again, there are those who have open minds that don't compromise, and those who are just giving and good and pleasant to be around, and those these attributes often coincide.


(I just wrote about good and bad, but mostly about bad, which, I think, I give too much writing material value to. Though I may be a foreigner to China or to some students, I am not alien to -- I'm going to sound really, really corny very, very soon -- life itself. That said, I don't want to use one hand to point an accusatory finger at others and the other to pat myself on the back because sometimes, I am a touristy pushover, a dumb American, and a hollow, freakish yesman.)
***

I don't know about one of my teachers, you know, the one that called two boys hen shuai and another one ke ai. Today I asked her a question which I'm pretty sure she clearly heard, but she didn't answer. I'm pretty sure anyone that's not a male is of no interest to her. Two days ago, she asked one of the hen shuai guys if he wanted to be an actor.

Guy: Why?
Teacher: Because you are handsome.

***
note to self: tips, menus, discounts, hen chongming in all the wrong ways, and the person in my kamar