How Chinese People Choose Their English Name

“How did you choose the name Alan?” I asked a Chinese guy named Alan. His real, Chinese name existed in characters and now, due to modern developments in the world, in pinyin. But his parents never assigned him Alan.

“Oh, my English teacher in school gave it to me.”

“How did he choose Alan?”

“He said I looked like an Alan.”

Then I remembered Peter Hessler (as described in River Town) doing the same thing when he taught an English class. He went around the room on the first day of school, gave everyone an English name, and that’s the one they carried for the rest of their life.

Wouldn’t that be fun? “Ok, you’re a Chuck. You, well, you look like a Dick. Yep, I think Dick is just about right.”

India's Democracy Prevents It from Doing What China Can

China displaced more than a million people to build three gorges dam. The government basically said, “Get up. Move. We’re destroying your villages and local culture because this is a national interest.”

In India a politician proposed to move a slum out from beside a freeway and try to develop the area a little bit. Outrage ensued and the people exercised their voice and vote. The slums remain. The freeway is still a joke.

China wanted to develop Shanghai at the cost of moving some current residents. Residents protested. Government: “Fuck you.” 10 years later Shanghai is one the most developed skylines in the world.

China’s authoritarian rule allows it to affect change quickly. One reason they’ve been growing so much.

In India, a democracy of a billion people slows decision making to a crawl. Meanwhile, the infrastructure here is still a joke.

In the long run India’s political system is more sustainable, I think, but in the short term — if you view people as numbers and GDP as God — it’s clear which system is working better.

You're So Good at Chopsticks!

If you travel to China and Japan or any other country that uses chopsticks you’ll find the locals always compliment you on your chopstick use.

It’s like they think no one else in the world uses chop sticks to eat their ethnic cuisine.

They may also race over a fork, even if you haven’t yet picked up the chopstick, because your white skin shouts “I hate the sticks, gimme the metal.”

I’m not a big fan of chopsticks. I didn’t know how to use them effectively prior to my Asia trip. Nonetheless, I have come to appreciate their utility. Certain small nuts are well suited to the chopstick.

Still, all in all, it’s hard to beat the fork and knife combination when it comes to sheer versatility, grip, and predictability.

Laying Low in Kunming

My brief stay in Kunming reiterated for me the benefits of a big but not crazy big city. San Francisco is only 800k population — this is pretty small compared to most “big cities”. It maintains a homey feel while still thriving as a metropolis. One reason why I adore the City by the Bay. Kunming is a big city in Yunnan Province but is nowhere near as chaotic, loud, and polluted as Beijing and Shanghai.

After my first full day of tourism with my host, Alan, during which I hit the big sights, I spent the next two days laying low, writing, working online, and exercising. I did wander around a bit and caught some ethnic minority singing show, pretty cool, and also found myself in the rougher outskirts of Kunming where the living standards were the lowest I’ve seen in China. In these parts you’ll see mushrooms everywhere — mushrooms are a big export of Kunming — but instead of being stored in sanitary conditions, they’re spewed all over the dirty back alleys. There also were endless people frying, stirring, mixing, and generally cooking a variety of food on the street. I wouldn’t touch it for the life of me. I was tempted buy some fruit one guy was selling (watermelon and cantaloupe) but remembered the sage advice of my guidebook which said they douse the fruit with tons of water to keep its veneer exterior. I wish I was invisible so I could take lots of pictures, but unfortunately, this is impossible to do when everyone is looking at you… to pull out a $300 digital camera in the midst of the scene would be awkward. I can stomach some awkwardness — say, being able to hail a cab whenever I want and escape back to the nicer part of the city, while the skinny rickshaw bikers pull unimaginable loads, or the pushing-70 years-old woman who lives based on how many shoes she can shine on the street — but taking pictures seemed too hard.

One street I crossed contained a truly horrible sight — a disabled, homeless man lying in the middle of the street. People walked around him and cars dodged him. People just didn’t give a shit. Can you imagine a guy lying in the street with mangled arms and legs and no one doing a thing?

If I had more energy I would have made the five hour bus trek to Dali, which was my original plan, or the 45 minute flight to Lijang, both beautiful cities that attract most of the Kunming tourists who aren’t golfing. Alas, I preferred the small neighborhood of my hotel, two solid workouts (though no ping pong, despite an earnest second try), internet, and my iPod.

Nearing the one-month mark, most weary travelers can relate to the sense of accomplishment each day brings. It takes so much energy to simply live each day and complete the small tasks, especially when you’re solo and on a modest budget, that any extra perk — an interesting cultural experience, a funny conversation with a local, a solid two hour workout — is worth celebrating. A large task, like a five hour bus ride, can crush you.

Written on Bangkok to Mumbai flight, Thai Air

Asking for Water in China

I gave the Europeans a hard time over the summer for their assault on h2o.

China is worse.

First, you can’t drink from the tap. A pain.

Second, asking for water in a restaurant is too challenging. I ate at Steak King across the street from my apt in Shanghai two days in a row. Same waitress. On the first day I asked for water, and pointed to “water” on the menu (which had the corresponding Chinese characters below the English phrase). It cost 4 yuan so I assumed it’d be mineral water or something.

She brought me a mug of boiling hot water. No tea, no flavor, just hot water. Might I ask what anyone would do with a cup of boiling hot water? I told the waitress, No, I want cold water. She didn’t understand. I said, “Ice”. She brought me back the SAME MUG except with ice cubes in it. Now I had a cup of boiling hot water with ice cubes. Two counteracting forces fighting vigorously for what they believe in. 10 minutes later the ice won and I drank lukewarm water.

The next day I went through the same routine with the same waitress. Only this time i made it clear when ordering, “COLD water. ICE!” She nodded. She brought me a mug of boiling hot water. I sent it back. I said, “ICE”. She brought it back boiling water w/ ice cubes.

I know I’m doing something wrong…when Eisen ordered for me I got a tall glass of cold, iced water. Not boiling water. Maybe I should ask for boiling, hot water?