The Other China.. the one they never talk about

Originally Posted by fabrizio marsani

Most of the media coverage relating to China tends to cover fairly bland economic data relating to forecasts and how these projections tie in with Australia’s fortunes. The world’s factory and it’s quarry- Australia, are a strategic marriage of convenience. One whose fate is heavily hitched to China’s continued growth. It‘s newsworthy, albeit dry reading matter.

I’ve been seeing and experiencing another side to China, one far removed from factory production lines and mega construction sites.

The China I’ve grown to appreciate is light years away from the mega cities which have fuelled Australia’s mining boom. It’s a country of enormous contrasts which has the capacity to seduce, delight and disgust Western sensibilities on any given day.

The China I’ve discovered is one of humility and constant surprise.

I confuse many a local with my reasons for being here. I’m not in China to source export opportunities, I’m not employed by a multinational corporation nor am I teaching English- the trifecta which draws the majority of Westerners here .

I’m regularly asked, ‘What exactly are you doing here in China ?’ A question I struggle to answer with any sort of clarity. The best answer I can come up with is that this country has got under my skin. It’s people, it’s contradictions and the energy here is intoxicating. Walking around streets and seeing people getting on with their daily lives gives me a buzz. Whether it’s street vendors selling BBQ chicken feet , or peddlers flogging turtles on makeshift leashes in front of high end fashion stores.

The energy is palpable and walking the streets rarely fails to throw up a surprise or two.

Something which I’ve coined The Unmistakable Sound of China is something I doubt I’ll ever be comfortable with. Even though I’ve accepted it as a cultural quirk here.

I was on a small local bus in a non tourist destination in Yunnan.

Usually these buses are packed with local farmers, people who make up China’s many ethnic minorities,
and their luggage- sacks of farm produce and sometimes animals stacked in the aisles .

This bus was loaded with boxes in the aisle so every time the bus turned a corner, and there were many corners as it was in the mountainous region, the boxes would slide across and crash into my knee.

Not a big deal, just uncomfortable at times. The biggest issue I had on this trip was a guy sitting in the opposite seat clearing his throat constantly and then spitting outside the window. He did this loudly and constantly. I had to listen to four hours of his throat clearing- he averaged one of these loud disgusting throat clearing spitting exercises maybe every 10 minutes of the trip, sometimes every five minutes.

Walking over boxes of livestock to get on and off the bus is but a small irritant, nothing by comparison to the unmistakeable sounds of throat clearing and spitting in China.

The first time I came to China I was staying in a friend’s apartment overlooking the Mekong River.
My pleasant view and surroundings on the balcony were spoilt by the loud guttural sounds of one of the neighbours clearing his throat and spitting out the offensive contents. I never got to see him, I just heard him for the duration of my stay.

^{A butcher having a smoke counting his cash alongside a side of pork.}

I’m staying in a smallish city called Jinghong which isn’t too far from the Burmese border. So whenever I take a bus from a town or village travelling from the border the bus it’s often stopped for a random police check trying to nab opium smugglers. Cursory luggage checking alongside the locals handing over their ID cards is the normal procedure. Usually they don’t bother me but one time I had to hand over my Passport. The police officer looked through the pages and then asked me, “Are you American ?”

The penny dropped , he had no idea what he was reading- unlike border customs officers . He couldn’t read Romanised characters. I could have handed him my City of Brimbank Library Card and he wouldn’t have been any wiser I reckon.

The Burma proximity is another interesting point here. Jinghong has hundreds of shops selling Jade Jewellery. The Chinese believe that jade has protective powers alongside being a guardian against illness and evil spirits. They’ve long believed it to be a link between the physical and spiritual worlds. The yin and yang qualities of Heaven and Earth encapsulated in stone. They just love this stuff. Apparently some of the world’s best jade comes from Burma, so the Chinese tourists are eager to buy jade in this city.

To satisfy the market’s appetite these shops are generally run by ‘Burmese’ entrepreneurial immigrants.
But they’re actually from the Indian subcontinent, mostly Pakistanis and Bangladeshis .
The average Chinese tourist from Beijing, Shanghai etc doesn’t know the difference between a Punjabi and a Burmese, so these guys exploit the market‘s obsession for jade.

I sometimes stop in front of their shops and try to catch them out by asking,

“Are you Pakistani or Bangladeshi ?”

They invariably reply with a cheeky smile in thick Indian like accents.

“No, no me Burma.”

^{A ‘Burmese’ Jade Merchant}

I amuse some of the shop owners whenever I give them the thumbs up and shout out,
“Burma number one.” in front of their shops.

I then follow this up by asking them, “ What about Pakistan and Bangladesh ? “
They invariably screw up their faces and turn their thumbs downwards.

“No good, no good.”

Surprisingly there aren’t any Indian style restaurants in this city. There’s obviously far more money in Jade than food . And there’s a lot at stake to uphold the integrity-facade of ‘Burmese’ Jade Merchants in town.

Fabrizio Marsani
fmarsani@yahoo.com.au