Whipped from the Mud

Yesterday morning I got up early because I was planning to bike to my Chinese lesson, and I wanted very much not to be late. My tutor had said that it would take about 35 minutes, but I was planning to give it more than an hour, since I had never navigated there before. However, I didn't get out of the house until slightly after 9, which meant I had about 50 minutes. Things went pretty well at first, with my only problem being how much other commuters stared at me and my goofy helmet. The traffic was just tapering off rush-hour but still heavy, especially in the bike lane. But bikes en masse moving slowly are surprisingly safe as along as you keep your eyes open. I started getting lost as I got nearer the place I was supposed to go. Which bridge did her directions say? Did she mean go straight at this bridge and exit after, or exit at this bridge? (I still haven't got the hang of directions in Chinese.) And I had my map book, but the bridges (ring road overpasses--the major and only reliable landmarks) are marked to be comprehensible to cars, with road signs like freeway exit signs, so not exactly where the bridge is and not always visible from underneath.

After some unnecessary and confused back and forth tracking, I was pretty close when AL called me at 9:54. It still took me about another 15 minutes and another phone-call to actually get to her door. The last little bit is especially rough. AL expressed confidence that next time I would be able to get there just fine, and in under 40 minutes. It's a bit of a trek, but good exercise.

The lesson went well. I asked my list of questions. She was especially interested in a rather scholarly question I had about translating something like "the anglophone world" into Chinese. We had an interesting discussion about the fact that you can of course say it in Chinese (literally, English-speaking countries) but generally for the purpose they use the phrase "Western countries." People assume that everyone in the West speaks English, she explained, although, she added, she knew this wasn't correct. Still, saying Western countries would sound very natural and saying English-speaking countries would sound marked. Since I was specifically trying to contrast French and American scholarship on a particular topic, that would just have to do, though.

When I was done with my questions, we talked a little bit about my classes, and then about Chinese mythology, which she thought might be an interesting and useful addition to my cultural literacy--not the specialized semi-historical stuff I'm learning in class, but the popularized stories that everyone knows and maybe even believes. I was especially struck by one (she knew I would be) which explained the creation of human beings. In this particular story it is, most appropriately, a goddess rather than a god who brings humans into being. The goddess, Nüwa, begins by shaping humans out of river mud or clay. However, it is rather tedious to shape them so painstakingly one at a time. So she broke off a willow twig and lashed the mud with it. With every stroke there rose up a number of splashes and splatters. These splashes and splatters also became people. And (here's the kicker), the ones she shaped with her hands became the wealthy and privileged and talented people. The ones she whipped from the mud with the willow twig became the common-folk. Class society built in to the very origin myth, as the Judeo-Christian builds in the notion of sin. Ouch.

We debated for a while whether this creation myth expressed anything true about the human condition. I said I thought it was really troubling, and could be used as an excuse and justification for holding people down below their potential and perpetuating a system of rigid class rules. Okay, I didn't say it quite so articulately in Chinese, but that was the gist of my argument. AL argued delicately that she thought there was something quite true in it, and was amused by my quaint American egalitarianism and commitment to social mobility. In short, some people are just whipped from the mud and no matter how hard they struggle they're never going to move up in the world. Does she really believe this, or was she just playing devil's advocate so I could practice arguing!? But certainly class differences here are striking. Doesn't an American construction worker, truck driver, or farmer have a certain sense of "I'm as good as the next man, and why shouldn't my kid go to college"? You don't treat them like dirt and get away with it. Is that lacking here or is it just harder to recognize? Is it a new China or isn't it?

After my 90 minute lesson I was pretty hungry. I took my leave and pedaled slowly homeward. Because I wasn't stressed out about time, I had more time to be stressed out about the feeling like I was riding my bike on a freeway, on-ramp and all. So the ring roads aren't quite like a freeway, but they are some eight lanes wide, with fast cars and ramps (cars have to cut across the bike lane to enter and exit) and not very many stop-lights. Here is a homely picture of my wearing my helmet, and below a boring picture of the scene behind me, but just to show the sort of road it was. (Also it was an overpass, which is not entirely clear from the picture, with a river flowing underneath.)



I was very extremely hungry by the time I got all the way home, but somehow didn't feel like stopping in a restaurant. I dropped by the little alley just south of my house instead and bought a bag of dumplings right out of the steamer. As I was balancing these and my bike and my helmet and my bag and my sweater, I saw an amazing candied fruit man come by. All right, the man was ordinary but his display of candied fruit really wonderful. I wish I could have taken a picture, but I barely managed to by one stick and juggle the whole mess home. Below are some pretty pictures of the candy though. The fruits, I am almost certain, are called hawthorns in English, a type of fruit I have never had before. At first I thought they were crab apples, but the seeds are completely different, much larger but still multiple (not like a plum). If I had to guess, I'd say they're a sort of apple-cousin, but they have a slightly different flavor. Really cool. Below is a picture of the stick (minus one that I had to tear into even before I got home). Also a picture of my lunch, very round.



After all that biking, I had to rest for most of the afternoon. I managed to go out grocery shopping in the evening, with the firm intention of buying a mop. I'm not sure if it's because I spend so much time in this one room, or if it's because dirt comes in from outside (though I have mostly taken to closing the window), but the place gets really filthy really fast. At first I thought I could mop by pushing a cloth around with my feet (it's only one room, for goodness sake) but it turns out there is way too much dirt for that. So I bought a mop and comically carried it home together with my groceries. I also bought some m&m's and discovered that in Chinese they're described as "milk chocolate beans." Pretty cool, huh?

My news pick for the day is the melancholy almost Romeo and Juliet story of a Pakistani man who went to the house of his betrothed and insisted that they get married immediately (the wedding was set for December). In his excitement, he waved a gun and started firing bullets in the air. One ricocheted and he thought it had hit and killed her, so he committed suicide then and there. Actually she was fine, but now bereft of fiance. What was he thinking he was going to do with the gun anyway!? There are so too many guns in the world. But I'm thinking the root cause of this tragedy is the lack of sex before marriage. Why else would he be out there waving his gun and trigger-happy, trying to hurry things up, when your average American guy would probably be lurking at home with cold feet...?