Manners Please

Labor day has passed (in the US) and the new school year has begun! We officially "opened study" on Monday. Exciting times as I wake from the spell of a summer of no work, just reading, walking and doing as I please... always hard to get back to work. And the thing that makes it hardest to get back to work around here is that I am always having to meet people for the first time. There is no way around here of having a group of friends and just, for the most part, sticking with it. You might develop a group of friends, but will be forced continually to add on superfluous relationships just because people want to say or feel as though they have a foreign friend. It reminds me of when Stephen Colbert was having a contest to find his black friend. Here I am every body's one black friend, except I'm white. Got it?

This morning I woke up at 5:30 and went to the school track in order to run a few miles before the day begins. This is my favorite time of day to be outside. It is generally quiet, the air smells clean (there is no coal burning overnight...yet) and the exercise fells good, invigorating me more than just physically. It can be a very peaceful time. One thing that generally separates a college campus in China from one in the United States is the fact that at this hour of the morning there are a good number of students out at the track jogging or walking to get an active start to the day. I know there were a lot of times that this was the hour that I was making my way home in college, but the curfews here curtail that. Regardless, I made it through about a lap and a half when I noticed that a boy who had been running in front of me had started walking and stretching his arms. I ran by him as normal and then heard that sound that I know so well and fear so much as I run. CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP!! I slowly and steadily hear the heavy footsteps of the boy as he approaches me from behind. I am familiar with this situation, in fact it probably happens to me about once in every 8 trips to the track(precision in statisticsis key). Probably a student looking for his opportunity to practice English, or show how polite Chinese people are. This morning, however, I am in no mood to chat with someone who I have never met before, and so as I hear his approach I cleverly step off to the side of the track and start stretching though I have already stretched. I look at him to make sure he is in fact following me, he was, right behind me, and I find that he is a little thrown by my move off the track, he finds himself unable to do anything but throw a wave at me and say in voice that I have no choice but to describe as slightly retarded, "Hiii!"

"whats up man." No one knows how to respond to my incredibly fluent English. When I throw out complex phrases like "whats up" out there it leaves even the most confident of students guessing, and I know this. Its the luxury I have of having such an extensive vocabulary. I could even throw a "Whats going on," or "Hows it going," out there if I have to.

Anyway I stretch some more, let the kid get ahead of me by half a lap and then try to continue on my way, determined to get some exercise. Yet I discover as I have made my way around the track that the kid is walking and stretching his arms again. I'm thinking, no way buddy, same move?? Yes indeed, as I pass him this time I am serenaded yet again with the CLOMP CLOMP of his footsteps. He must have ankle weights on... training, definitely. Regardless as he is approaching I pass two young girls and then hear from behind an audible yelp of surprise that sounds something like Scooby Doo when he smells a Scooby Snack, though less gruff. Then they banter back in forth in Chinese trying to guess my identity. I have by this time started walking again and moved off of the track, and I hear the boy who was tracking me join in on their conversation, as he clearly has to no reason to run anymore, since I, his main competition, has left the track. At that point I decided to abandon the track area, and so two laps later, instead of getting any exercise in I find myself glued to a computer screen, finding consolation in a couple spoonfuls of Peanut Butter and a piping hot cup of Green Tea .

This mornings episode calls to mind what occurred to me last night. Outside of my house there are conveniently located a few pull-up bars, and other exercise apparatus' that I have no idea how to use, but I swear to god that one of them is a steering wheel of a car. I feel like I am back at the playground at HCS. I went out at about 8 PM Beijing time, last night to do some pull-ups and continue my battle against the pouch that finds its way settling into my belly. As I am doing these exercises I discover that there is a man that appears to be looking repeatedly over in my direction. But it is dark out, so I consider myself safe. I still cut my session a bit short, and make my way back out into the light(Oh, the dreaded light!) as I cross the street back to my apartment complex. As I am crossing the street in the back ground I kind of hear something, but I don't really pay attention, until finally as I am about to make my way into my building I here someone scream out "HEY!" and I am startled into looking. I don't see anything but I hear a frog-like voice emanating from the shadows saying in English, "Hey man, please come here, hey!" I felt like I was on an after-school special teaching about the dangers of crack dealers or child molesters. Needless to say I didn't make the trip across the street.

The examples are too numerous to mention, like last year when I was walking down the street for the first time at my new school and a guy came up to me like we were old friends and was like(again clearly in English)，“hey." I said hey and then after a minute of him talking to me I was like, "I'm sorry do I know you?" and his response was of course, "I know you, you are 28 years old, right?!" Clearly proving to me that he was a trust worthy and well informed friend. This behavior is so common that it creates a strange atmosphere of paranoia for me at times where as I was walking back home today I heard footsteps approaching from behind me and I swung around ready to bring the hammer down on some little kid who was running by me bc he was late for class. The weird thing about all of this is these actions aren't seen as weird, or possibly bothersome by many people here, they feel as though they are being polite.

And I am sure that some people who read this are like, why not just talk to the guys? Whats the harm? Yet imagine if every time that you leave the house you were to have no idea whether or not you might be forced to have a conversation with someone you don't know, describing where you are from, why you are living in the area you are living in, and some other random topic like the weather, all in incredibly broken English that inevitably will conclude with, "I want to be your friend!! Can I have your mobile phone number?" That sucks, so I avoid it as indirectly as possible, though sometimes it is unavoidable in order to keep Chinese from thinking all foreigners are dicks.

The thing that is strange to me is the idea that forcing yourself on someone is polite. Now, as I have mentioned before, I am a well established bastard in the Shandong area, so I may be mistaken, but it is my understanding that being polite is to truly communicate with a person, and based on the information that they provide you finding a way to help them or make them more comfortable. Too often around here I am thrown into the arms of blind politeness, where people see me as a foreigner and already assume that they understand my circumstances. Obviously, since I am a foreigner in China, I am lonely, looking for a friend, unable to communicate in any way with the natives, and pretty much helpless. So this calls for people at all times of day to approach me and help me by talking to me to alleviate my loneliness, and offer to help me to buy things at the supermarket, where all you need to do is pick out what you want and bring it to the cash register. So many people will walk up to me on the street and out of the blue ask me, "Do you need help?" and I am like, Jeez, do I look lost or something? People just assume that because I am foreign that I need help, and so they politely offer it, unintentionally perpetuating the process of slowly suffocating me of my personal space.

It would be like inviting a vegetarian over to your house and attempting to convince them to eat meat because you have been trained to think that meat is necessary to live a healthy life. Perhaps you are sure that you are being polite from your own limited perspective, you are attempting to offer them something that you find delicious, and trying to help them live what you believe to be a healthier lifestyle. But the truth is that from the outside perspective of the vegetarian this isn't polite at all, and in fact is bothersome. If true communication were to occur between the two parties it would be a different story, one where perhaps a friendship could develop and all could learn something, but that would require listening, which sadly in my experience occurs too infrequently.

In have read rave reviews about all of the volunteers in Beijing that helped tourists during the Olympics, and secretly I cringe. In that atmosphere, where 90 percent of the foreigners that are in that area are tourists with no knowledge of Chinese, it is logical for people to go up and try to help people. Tourists would also often like to get a chance to speak with natives at random times, since their time is limited to get a feel for the life of that area. Yet it is that festive atmosphere that later gets broadcast into the public of Shandong and later makes its way into my life, only around here it is neither helpful nor festive. To assume that I am a tourist or lost because I am white is as silly as assuming that I speak English because I am white(I often tell people I am Russian, shuts people up pretty quick).

This turned into a longer rant than expected. I have no way of venting these frustrations to my Chinese friends since they have difficulty understanding my perspective, and so I am forced to blog my face off for survival. One more spoon of Peanut Butter thank you very much!