Working lunch

The dinner table is to a Chinese as the golf course is to an American - an ideal location for business discussions. Recently, I've been offered a position in a university in Xian to help establish links with overseas universities for exchange programs, and, accordingly, have been involved in discussions recently.

The first stage was interesting. My friend and former tutor is now a teacher in that university, so he is the all-important 'go-between'. I don't have much experience, but I've heard Chinese only like to do business with associates, or at least people they have some personnel connection with. When you consider its quite an individualistic society, with people looking to make money left right and centre, it is a sensible policy.

So in the last couple of weeks, I've been talking over a coffee in a quiet corner of a cafe about my position and that of the school with that friend. It reminds me of diplomats arranging the basics before the meeting of the political leaders. After two meetings, it was decided that last Friday was a good time to meet the university "lingdao", or leaders.


Expecting an evening of significant baijiu consumption, I had had an extra big lunch. So it was to my great surprise when I walked in and found three women sitting at the table. I had assumed it would be fat middle-aged men with white socks and bad teeth smoking 'Good Cat' cigarettes. I was introduced by my friend to them, and did the only thing appropriate on such occassions - immediately forgot their names.

I also forgot their titles, but it became apparent during the dinner that the woman to my left was the most important. She had a habit of laughing uproariously and spitting out shrimp legs at the same time. The other two (later three) were more demure, following the lead of the leg-spitter. The later addition was actually a former teacher of mine, and so with everyone reasonably familiar with each other, it was a pleasant evening.

The food was certainly a success. For occasions like this, there is always much more food than could possibly be eaten. Although I did my best to break this rule, taking a special fancy to a sort of fried rice cooked inside a pineapple.

Being from a university and with mostly woman in attendance, the atmosphere was more sincere than I had previously assumed. Firstly we made polite chat about this and that. Teacher Gao displayed her appalling command of French, and I complimented her heartily (what else can you do?). Teacher Xiang (the most important one) went off on a lengthy tangent about how she encountered wild animals last time she went to the mountains. Everyone listened patiently, possibly wondering the same thing as me - 'would it be rude if I kept eating that pineapply thing while she tells this incredibly boring, self-centred, anecdote'? It always amazes me how much most people like the sound of their own voice, even though it seems a certain way to ensure you are disliked my other members of your party.

After the eating was mostly over, we got to the 'zheng shi' - the point of the dinner. They want me to work in their university, setting up a website, contacting foreign universities, getting students to come to China. As I already have a job I like, but one possibly not able to renew my visa, the negotiations were tricky, and I discovered afterwards there were one or two misunderstandings. We also avoided the tricky question of money, although universities in China are overflowing with money, so hopefully it won't be too much of an issue.

At the end of the evening, the leader paid the bill, and being a teacher, she got 15% off, which is a common arrangement for restaurants in areas with universities and schools. She asked me if there were similar arrangements for teachers in England. I think not. The mostly undrunk baijiu was given to me, which is a real bonus because it is an expensive one. I left with my friend first, the three other teachers staying behind to discuss the events and to wonder if all foreigners have such a fancy for pineapply rice.

Indonesians come to China

Last week our company started the training event that we have been 'preparing' for the last few weeks. There are 32 Indonesians, all men and with varying levels of experience as operators of power stations. They are here for nearly 2 months, mostly for training on a simulator.

I've been struck by how incredibly friendly and modest they are. During the opening ceremony, their 'leader' was fraught with nerves and could barely speak. He said if they made any mistakes or did anything culturally inappropriate, they were very sorry. Absolutely nothing of the sort from our side.

The presenter and translator for the speeches of the 领导, ling dao, or leaders, was me. I can be spotted in the background of two of these photos.



http://www.npgc.net/news_detail.asp?id=356&pid=6



The speech delivered by our boss was actually written by someone else, and the first time he saw it was when he unfolded it from his pocket. The Indonesians sung their national anthem with vigour and rythm; our side sung theirs feebly. (The only saving grace was no-one asked me to sing God Save the Queen). My favourite part was when the boss explained how the boiler engineer couldn't make it because he was still compling the teaching materials, when, in fact, the company did not even have a boiler engineer present at that time. As for my translation, it was reasonable. Even the translators in our company were surprised I could understand the Chinese, despite working here for nearly half a year. The Indonesians also looked slightly confused by my presence.

The training is in its 9th day now. I've not actually been told to do anything (I have a lot of freedom as one of the two 'experts'), but I've been listening to each lecture every morning. All I can say, the importance of preparation should never be underestimated. A fairly simple piece of organization, this training, and the people in charge have fucked it up royally. I don't actually translate myself, just sit at the back taking notes, and try to give advice to our translators (Chinese engineer speaks Chinese, Chinese translator speaks English, Indonesians listen - yes, this is as problematic as it sounds).

Our company is nothing if not thrifty. If you want to use a paper cup, you have to apply for one. My suit (which is not the right size at all) cost 300 RMB, but they charged me 500 RMB for it ('standard company policy'). Initially, the boss said that, because the Indonesians going to the mosque on Friday is nothing to do with them, they should go by public bus. 32 non-Chinese speaking Indonesians piling onto overcrowded buses going to a place they don't know the location of? Brilliant. The snacks offered daily for the 32 Indonesian trainings during training consists of one bag of biscuits costing 2 pence. The classroom offered was a room in a hotel on the 'staff area' floor with no windows or ventilation. Even when the big boss saw this, he was pissed off. Although he only changed it when he knew the management from the Indonesian side were coming to look.

But anyway, it continues, and we'll see what happens.

Spring Break Ltd

A couple of weeks ago our company organised a 2-day 'chun you' 春游 (spring break), which is something where most people get out and about to make the most of the relatively pleasant spring weather. Most companies will offer this, and our boss, always one for skiving off work and driving her car round the outskirts of the city, organised a visit to some surrounding attractions for our 40-strong team. (Last week, she fell asleep on the couch in her office after a little too much liquid at lunchtime).

(photos available at this address: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=70507&id=510992267&l=35c1d2039f )

We gathered at 8am outside the company and boarded the coach. Just as I'm wondering where we're going, a microphone screeches and a booming, lispy voice comes at me from every direction. That was when I realised I was facing for the first time something I normally try and avoid - a tour guide.

My worst fears were confirmed when she tried to get us to do some 'wake-up games'. The sight of girls rubbing their heads with their left hand and boys rubbing their ears with their right hands holds zero amusement for me, and apparently for everyone as well, because no-one else joined in. Not to be deterred, our courageous guide, a young girl named Xiao Wang, sang us a very moving rendition of the Chinese equivalent of 'wheels on the bus' (or some such). The accompanying round of applause was, if not generous, at least sympathetic. At least we weren't distributed matching visors, and the attempts at colour-coding us into teams proved beyond her powers of organisation.

First stop was a small town next to Xian called Lantian. Almost every city or large town in China is famous for something, and Lantian is famous for jade. So we stopped in the main street and piled into a shop selling jade. I was surprised by how fascinated everyone was by the jade on offer as a) you can buy it everywhere and b) its probably fake. Instead I sat in the backroom with a copy of the Shaanxi Morning Post.

Later that morning, we drove to the outskirts of Lantian to Wang Shun Mountain. Snow still covered the ground, and with the clear blue skies and trees just starting to leave behind winter, it provided a very pleasant backdrop. Taking advantage of this rare opportunity for solitude, I charged ahead and was able to make the 3 hour climb to the top unfollowed by the rest of my 'team'. Stone steps snaked their way slowly up, past waterfalls and pavilions, the footprints of early climbers marking the way where the snow was heavy. Higher up, it was possible to see the surrounding peaks, stretching far away, with the occassional pavilion perched on the side.

However, it was still in China, which meant someone decided that the sound of birdsong and rushing water is insufficent, and needed to be completed by background music. Speakers were rigged to the overhead cable car, and the sort of music you hear in lifts in faux up-market shopping centres accompanied me up the mountain. It was even louder at the top, lilting across the ranges like goo.

The afternoon was followed a longish bus trip to the south of the province (Shaanxi) to Zhashui. On the bus, I was nominated by the assistant guide (a complete twat) to sing a song. I opted instead for a joke, and I'm pleased to say it went down like a sack of rain-soaked rice. Nothing like having to repeat a punchline. Three times. In Chinese.

Anyway, when we got there, the attraction was an ancient street where a film was once shot. In the evening, some of the men in our party thought it would be fun to get me drunk, but their shameful ability at drinking meant their efforts were short lived. The woman boss kept trying to encourage us to 'kao rou' (barbequing slithers of skewered-meat). Instead I was listening to the Chief Engineer in the company tell me all sorts of things that if I had only understood I am sure would have been of the utmost interest.

Sunday morning, I got up early and went for a wonder through the fields. With urbanisation incerasing at planet-destroying rates, its easy to forget that China is an agricultural based country. We got up nice and early and took a ride to the a series of caves with those 'rock icicle' things in. Inside were lots of surprisingly interesting and attractive rock formations and even more tourists. Our group got seperated after about 3 seconds and all different groups then moulded into one, big, slow moving group, like an oil spill in the ocean.

I have to say something about photography. Chinese just love taking pictures, particularly of themselves. Every time anyone got to anything remotely of interest ("this rock is slightly more pointy than the last one!"), they stand in front of it and get someone to take a picture of them. Invariably there are two 'poses', the word 'pose' now being a part of the lexicon of most young urbanites. One is the V sign (victory, not piss off), and the other is a completely expressionless face. I couldn't help but snigger when 3 of them had their battery run out. The forlorn, almost dazed, expression, was a photo opportunity in itself (if only they hadn't run out of battery). For them, that was the end of the trip, and they made swiftly for the exit.

Heading back to the smog of Xian, it was nice to have had a reminder that there is a whole lot more to China (and possibly life generally) than banging around in a city all day.

Who is Saddam Hussein

The last couple of weeks I've been doing some recruitment work for company, part of which involved me writing a short exam to test the written English ability of applicants. The final section was a reading comprehension and proofreading exercise. The final question was 'Who is Saddam Hussein'? I chose this question as a general knowledge question, although his name also appeared in the text. Here are some of the incorrect answers.

The President of Iraq

He is a terrorist, he always destroy the peace of the world

He is a publicly financed glorification of serving leader

He is the ex-President of Packstein and was hung years before

The president of Irak

A terrorist, the head of Iraq, did harm to the people in Iraq and also to the people in the whole world

He was thought to a terror and devil by Americans, but a hero in his country

The President of Afghanistan

America's President

The leader of a mideast country named Israel

'If you are honoured enough to join our company..."

Last Thursday I took part in a recruitment meeting for our company at the leading university in Xian. Officially due to the snow, although more probably due to the low salary on offer, attendees numbered around the 40 mark.

The presentation was delivered in a lecture room by our 'boss', the woman married to the Actual Boss. I used to think she was quite formidable, but have come to realise that she is hopelessly unqualified for this position. In fact, the whole company reminds me of a monarchy, with people being in high positions or promoted depending on their 'guanxi' (relations) with the other important people. Skill and ability are strictly secondary. It sounds a bit of a cliche to say this about China, but this is what was told to me the day after by the former head of the translation department. To save face, she wasn't sacked directly, but put in a position where leaving was the only real option. It's grim up top.

Anyway, back to the presentation. She fumbled about for 5 minutes with the computer, which turned out to be only preparation for even greater fumbling later on. Even if she had remembered to introduce herself, such was the paucity of her comments and apparent lack of knowledge about the company that the attendees must have been wondering 'Who is this woman', 'What does this company do again?', 'Why is her hairstyle like that of a racoon?', etc.

After skipping over unimportant facts like the nature and requirements of the job, etc, she went on to the bulk of her presentation - showing photos of Indonesia and Sudan, where the company have staff working overseas. She had turned into Judith Chalmers, telling us the delights of beaches and lobsters in Northern Sumatra. My favourite picture was the one of the outside of the car park building at Jakarta Airport - truly a decision-maker for those potential employees.

Then onto the videos. She decided to show some footage of the New Years Party. Just as my feeling of mortification was setting in (me in a dress is not pretty), I was saved by her terrible computer skills as she did not know how to press the 'Play' button on Windows Media. My favourite clip was of two people repairing an old, two wheeled wooden cart next to a pile of coal. So this is the high technology of which you speak! Sign me up!

Our current team of English translators suffers from the slight hindrance of not being to speak or understand English, so this time I interviewed all the people who had not already left to test their English. The level was extremely good. The head of the translation department (age:23) only came to this company by accident because she thought it was a state-owned company, and I got the feeling some of these guys might be under the same false impression. I asked one girl the differences between young and middle-aged people in China, and was given a slightly ribald and detailed response centering on sex.

Afterwards, Mrs Boss, myself and one of her lackeys (supposedly HR manager) had a good laugh comparing the attractiveness of the various female translators in our company. If only Mrs Boss paid as much attention to her presentations as she did to her withering critiques of the physical features of her staff, we might actually get somewhere.

Valentines Day

5000 years of glorious history, from the bone-reading clerics of the Shang Dynasty all the way through to Bruce Lee, a fair supply of festivals have been invented and accumulated during this time. A festival celebrating the act of love, lovers, etc, is among them. The traditional 'Lover's Day' in China is the 7th day of the 7th lunar month (in August), and I read about the story in the Intermediate (Lower) Chinese textbook a couple of years ago. It seemed a nice story, about a boy and a girl separated by an evil old woman, and only allowed to meet once a year. They are represented by two stars in the sky.

But that's old, boring, and, crucially, is not commercially viable. So what we need to do is forget that rubbish and learn something from those rich, car-owning Westerners - celebrate Valentines Day. A perfect opportunity to spend ever larger proportions of our small salaries on crap no-one wants for the girl we love.


So what is the correct way to show our appreciation and affection? Money. Or, if you have it, loads of money. Flowers are good, although be sure to buy a bunch bigger than your loved one's best friend, otherwise she will be even more offended than if you had bought nothing. Blue roses have been on offer this year. Chocolates, as well, are good, preferably Western brands (knock off ones acceptable, she'll never notice).


Other ideal presents include kingsize fluffy animals, and it seems the older your precious sweetheart is, the bigger should her new bedtime companion be. Disney character balloons and thin ones twisted into the shape of hearts are offered at street corners. If you're feeling devilish, you could buy all of them, although this might cause the oh-so-disastrous event of her floating away. Another good idea is taking her to her favourite shops, such as those specialising in Mickey Mouse handbags.


Be aware, that the love you hold for her is directly proportional to the amount of money you spend on her, or if she's an understanding type, a percentage of your income. Failure to show the necessary 'love' will result in temper tantrums, beatings and charges of irresponsibility and uselessness.

For the man, prepare a pair of padded gardening gloves and a 20litre backpack as all those flowers, toys, animals and tat purchased will be carried round the shops, to the restaurant and home by you. After all, we wouldn't want anyone to get weighed down by foliage. Your other free hand should at all times be in some way connected to the petal on your other side.


How to choose a restaurant? Option A is to choose a place where your cupid once expressed a desire to go, and being the thoughtful knight, you remembered. This place has a nice environment, excellent food and is something a little different from the usual. Option B is to go to a really expensive one. Select Option B. Worried that it's like dining in a car showroom? Don't be. Just pay the bill, you'll be fine.

After dinner and more definitely-not-boring-as-hell window shopping and actual shopping, a trip to a favourite authentic Western restaurant is a good plan. Be sure to buy the 'meal' where you can get free plastic dolls of characters from the hit movie 'Madagascar'. Preferably choose a seat where your loved one will face away from other people - the table nearest the 'staff only' door or next to the washroom are best. If you choose one open to the comings and goings of high-heel girlfriends and present-clinging boyfriends, you will be subject to the number one pastime of 50% of girls in this part of the world - comparing. It's a super fun game, mainly for her. She gets to compare her level of happiness with others by using the GMR - Gift-Money Ratio, a simple calculation made in under 1 second through careful study of other species in the field of vision. Any perceived slight on her part - for example, girl in the white coat had a bigger Mickey Mouse than her - will be remembered for many days and weeks, and will result in a sullen taxi ride home.

And way the day is over, never mind. There are festivals seemingly every week here (last week was a day when you're supposed to get your hair cut), so you'll have more opportunity to express your feelings to your significant other and your sorrow to your bank manager.

Chinese New Year

Although in China for over 2 and half years now, last week was my first chance to properly spend Chinese New Year. Using my miserly 6 days holiday, I went back to a friend's hometown, Baoji. It's the second largest city in the province, and an hour away on the fast train. Or if you're a 'true' local like me, you'll take the super cheap and super crowded slow train. Millions of people travel for twenty or thirty hours with no seat during this time of year, so I certainly wasn't complaining about my seated two and a half hour journey.

When I got off the train to be met by my friend (who was, in keeping with what is apparently another Chinese tradition, late) I was briefed on the correct ways to address the family members. This is a delicate area of etqiuette. I should address the mother as 'ai yi' (aunt) and the father as 'shushu' (uncle). This is both polite and personal. Calling family members by their names would be extremely rude, and the older they are the ruder it would be. Although I knew all this before and was prepped going up the stairs to the flat, it's easier said than done. I feel uncomfortable calling people things other than names (or possibly amusing insults). I was told on opening the door to say 'aiyi, shuhu, nihao' (hello). All I managed was a weak 'nihao', thus committing a faux pas.

That evening we watched the short TV programme I made in 2007 . When I tell people about it, one of the first comments is 'how much money did they give you for it'? My answer that I did it for the fun of it and only got 200yuan was met by the mother in the usual way - bafflement, almost disapproval. A Chinese person thinks anyone who doesn't take every opportunity to make money is either unlucky or stupid.

Baoji is the second city of this province, home to about a million people, most of whom are actually descendants of people who came here from outside the province. My friend's paternal grandparents came here from North East China to work, and the maternal grandparents came from central Henan province, where they were escaping from a flood caused by the deliberate breaking of a dam by Chang Kaishek during the Civil War in the 1940s. Like most people in Baoji, they don't speak the local language of the province. To be unkind, Baoji is, like many Chinese cities, noticeable for it's sameness. But it has much better air than Xian, and the mountains surrounding it provide a welcome reminder of nature.

The father used to work in the electrical equipment factory, and as such the three of them live in the 'family living area', row after row of six storey flats provided for the families of the factory employees. Most employees would retire at 50, and so he runs a small place where people play mahjong. In fact, 20 years ago I would not be allowed into this area, as half of the city was closed to foreigners.

Their family is like that of millions of others. The father has two sisters and a brother, the mother has four sisters and a brother. With the only child policy, the family photo of the mother's side was noticeable for its lack of young faces. The parents grew up at the back end of the Cultural Revolution, and never enjoyed the relative wealth and openness which their kids do. They speak frankly and without airs. Like most Chinese men, the father liked to impart words of wisdom about Chinese history and culture to me. If I had 1 yuan for everytime someone told me how many years old Chinese culture is (answer: 5000), I'd be a rich man (and would not have to make TV programmes for a living anymore). I can also drink baojiu, Chinese alchoholic spirit a bit like vodka, which went down well.

The second day, we went round the corner to the house of the paternal grandparents. Visiting relatives is one of the main New Years activities, with the others being making and eating dumplings, buying clothes, setting off fireworks, sleeping and watching TV. I made the same mistake again of not addressing them in the correct way (although I did splutter out a weak 'nainai' (grandmother) at some point). The food was like the food for the entire 5 days - superb.

The next day we went round again for making and eating dumplings and watching TV. The dumplings were delicious and plentiful. Most of her relatives had absolutely no idea how I could eat something as disgusting as bread, and how I manage to get enough sustenance without rice and mantou (steamed buns) was equally perplexing. With the constant urging of various uncles and aunts to eat more throughout the holiday, I've definitely put on some pounds.

On the evening of New Years, we went outside to 'fang pao', set off firecrackers. We had some exceptionally loud ones. All they did was emit an enormous bang and leave red stuff everywhere. But good fun. The point is too frighten away bad spirits. I imagine the cats were also frightened away. For similar reasons, actually, you're not meant to throw out the rubbish on New Years Eve in case you throw out the good spirits (and possibly some unused fireworks). Some of the neighbours had gone all out and bought loads of 'proper' fireworks, which made for a very spectular and noisy night. The blatent disregard for safety was extrmely refreshing. My over-riding impression was how much it sounded like war, with booms of various intensity heard all around. The fireworks go on for 15 days, by which time I imagine all spirits and timid creatures will have been thoroughly dispensed of.

The highlight for me, though, had to be the next day, when we went to an uncle's house to see the relatives of the other side of the family. After lunch and TV watching, I was taken to the unmissable Titanium Factory. The whole complex employs 20,000 people, and consititutes a small town on its own, known simply as '71'. The relatives work there, and as such live 'onsite' in the family living area. It is the largest titanium factory in China, I was told proudly, and given its location right in the mountains, probaly the most inaccessible of all of China's titanium factories. It was moved here in the 1960s by Chairman Mao as part of his attempt to protect the key industries from possible war.

We piled into the back of a black Volkswagen Santana (with Snoopy steering wheel) to drive the short distance to the factory itself. It consists of different buildings, connected by a single road. They've had 30 years to move it, but maybe the scenic location is too much of a draw. Inside was a mixture of titianium in various forms, crumbling old machinery and brand new Italian and Germany equipment. The mountainous setting was a nice change from the city. In fact, if I had kept walking south through the mountains, I would have made it into panda country and Sichuan.

Which is probably where all those evil sprits went.