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East is East - Tianjin

by Bronagh Crowley

Summer of 2010 I lived perilously close to the edge of China’s skyline inside one of the many monotone sky-scrapers which crowded the panorama of the city of Tianjin. A city of a cool 12 million inhabitants it burgeons forth as both victor and victim to a surging economic tide which has crowned China as the world’s second-largest economy.

Tianjin translates loosely as “Heavenly Ford” or more amusingly in some translations as “Heavenly saliva”. The citizens of this beckoning superpower trudge dutifully to the beat of a 6 day working week beneath a grey sky obscured by the omnipresent fog of pollution which the city vomits out daily. Hungry to gain a foothold in the international market English teachers are imported enthusiastically from the West lured over with offers of free accommodation and flights and a respite from the despair of recession and joblessness at home. I signed up immediately.

The first culture shock you encounter upon landing on Chinese soil is the sudden realisation that almost no-one speaks English, anywhere. Taxi trips involve vivacious mimes and hasty sketches of train stations or McDonalds which work out well at least 50% of the time. City walking is not for the fainthearted, once you have weaved your way through the heaving, hocking, spitting  masses and dodged swerving rickshaws you may find yourself suddenly gulping back dread at the edge of an intersection. Driving in China equals extreme sport. Traffic lights are essentially discretionary guidelines as right of way belongs to the self-assertive. Locals navigate the lanes of traffic in packs for safety shaking their fists at charging taxi drivers who plough through pedestrian crossings yawning. Seat belts are generally for decorative purposes and seen as an insult to your good driver who will not hesitate to tell you so. One day I arrived home with tyre tracks on my legs -although beeping manically as you coolly negotiate one way streets seems to be obligatory, beeping as you reverse into disorientated foreigners in car parks is not. Cyclists colliding with buses might muster a raised eyebrow from one or two but more than likely it will only result in more vigorous fist shaking and an argument over costs.

Surreal urban landscapes transform vividly with the weather and the time of day. Any sun that manages to struggle though the smog will beckon a kaleidoscope of umbrellas as women frantically try to shelter from the sun and slap on factor 50 sun cream furiously. Porcelain skin is the prized possession after all. Summer rain showers are sudden and frequent. Don’t be surprised to find yourself paddling through swirling muddy water within minutes. The Chinese whisk on huge billowing vivid capes which cover both rider and bicycle and which would not look out of place on a Harry Potter film set. To cope with the sticky heat men roll their shirts up and walk around proudly patting their bellies-body fat and social status are closely intertwined. It is also customary for young couples to wear matching outfits to announce their romance to the world.

Street entertainment is definitely not to be found wanting. Come evening time, the pavements are clamoured with elderly ladies partaking in vigorous synchronised dance routines alongside the usual rush hour mayhem. The Chinese take their physical exercise very seriously. Visiting Westerners stepping bleary eyed out of nightclubs in the early hours are met by senior citizens earnestly filling parks as Tai Chi hour dawns. Shop workers begin each day outside in front of the unfurling shop shutters as security guards, cashiers and managers all line up by their shop fronts and dutifully conduct their daily aerobic routine. Sporadic bursts of fireworks punctuate each day announcing the opening of new businesses. Come twilight you will find families clustering at corners of hutongs with mounds of bank notes which they burn through the dusk as offerings to speed their dead loved ones through the afterlife.

For the die-hard shopper Tianjin sidewalks may throw you beyond your comfort zone. Tupperware dishes housing tarantulas and scorpions are found stacked neatly on the sidewalk next to baskets of mewling puppies and kittens-for dinner or for pets I never quite figured out. Clothes are happily sold from the boot of any working car and language barriers don’t impede sales pitches as sales ladies will enthusiastically hold a mock tug of war to demonstrate the “accommodation” and stretch of your chosen garment-beware even a UK size 8 may in fact equal Chinese “extra large”! Then of course there are the opportunistic street vendors who lost in translation heartedly flog “I love BJ” t-shirts to bemused tourists in Beijing.

When it comes to local cuisine, if you are perturbed by webbed feet on your plate or if the sight of wriggling cockroaches on a skewer doesn’t send your palate into a frenzy you’d perhaps be best advised to proceed with caution. Local barbeques are delicious and commonplace on street corners by night and most importantly- to fend off those e-coli phobias -are cooked in front of you. The Chinese love affair with KFC, Pizza Hut and McDonalds will of course guarantee western food in almost every urban suburb.

Nightlife is not part of Chinese culture. My English students normally flatly replied that “nightclubs are for bad people” and never quite understood the significance of a Saturday night. The Chinese are much more passionate about karaoke bars which are located on every street and sometimes on impromptu gold glittering stages on the pavement. The local hot spot was called “Sitong”-which translated as adultery bar if you didn’t get the intonation right; complete with an energetic leather clad Filipino band who could sing everything from Lady Gaga to Nirvana, those horrifying hole in the floor toilets, a scatter of drunk expats (alcohol is deliciously cheap), a few dozing Chinese locals(late nights are not the done thing)and an exotic DJ with a wispy manicured goatee( facial hair seems to be both an anomaly and an awe-inspiring feat over there) who was the local heart throb. I once went to a university fraternity party which with clever advertising had promised the pool party of the summer. We were quite excited. When we arrived the party was in full swing with students sipping gingerly on cocktails and sure enough in the garden sat a brand new inflatable paddling pool.

Take care not to be offended by the Chinese unique approach to social etiquette. In China it is normal small talk to ask a new acquaintance how much they earn, how old they are and perhaps to compliment them on their tremendous obesity. A friend of mine was once approached in a supermarket by an older Chinese woman who proceeded to remove items from her basket whilst reassuring her that she was too fat and the time had now come to stop eating. If you are not of Asian origin you may fall prey to celebrity status on the street. On my first week my taxi driver turned to me at the traffic lights, pointed at my face, offered an enthusiastic thumbs up and then proceeded to hoist out a video camera which he then directed at me expectantly. Enthralled locals are only too eager to tear out their cameras for photo opportunities with a ghostly blue-eyed giant. Those with particularly fair features must be willing to pose for photos frequently sometimes whilst queues form.

The Chinese classroom is vastly different from home. Students who are accustomed to classes of 60 with rote learning and punishments ranging from caning to 1000 lines baulk at creativity. The Chinese choice of English names though can prove quite hilarious as your daily register can include “Barbie, Satan, Hitler, Hymen, Candy and Tiger”. As with their culture, opinions or critical thinking are not forthcoming and discipline and conformity are the rule. Rumours of thought police amongst students percolated staffroom discourse but generally and hopefully proved sensationalist hyperbole. Although one student in a private session did nonchalantly point out that hidden microphones were fairly common and that he’d prefer to avoid political talk. We were tactfully advised to avoid writing names in red on the board as the same act foretold execution in a more chilling era.

However that is not to say that little wisps of rebellion did not stir the classroom air. One student lent me an internet proxy to access forbidden sites. One 12 year old with a 16 hour study day spent her nights secretly selling on e-bay. Two students even drew gasps from their peers in class by venturing that communism was nearing its sell by date. On a whole though, in contrast to Europe, citizens regularly extolled the virtues of their country and essays were still littered with praise for Chairman Mao whose biography was on the tip of each child’s tongue. Each morning at Tiananmen Square thousands of people form a snake which coils all around the 34 year old mausoleum waiting hours to catch a brief glimpse of their beloved dead leader. Decades on they still shuffle forward in reverence clutching bouquets of flowers and whispering as they enter the hallowed burial site.

If you seek a unique travel experience without the cushions of the English breakfast and BBC news channels which now litter the backpacker trails of Asia take a chance on China. As the tentacles of globalisation slither into each corner of the world and the Chinese economy bowls forth ahead of international markets the strange wonders of their bizarre world may evaporate. See for yourself before it’s too late.