Ringing in the Year of the Rabbit

Happy Chinese New Year! 

恭喜发财

Beijing's beautiful Houhai neighborhood

(For more photos Click Here)

Among many traditions associated with this holiday is the practice of returning to one’s old ancestral home (老家) to spend the New Year with relatives, resulting in the largest annual mass migration of people—around 700 million people traveling at one time.  As few would consider Beijing their “ancestral home”, the city is empty right now, shops and restaurants are closed, and if it weren’t for McDonald’s 24-hour delivery (a truly unfortunate staple in the lethargic Beijing expat’s diet) I am not sure where several meals would come from. However, this is not to say that Beijing is quiet right now.

Which brings me to the next big tradition of the Chinese New Year (more commonly known as the Spring Festival or 春节 here). And that is, FIREWORKS. By fireworks, I mean that in the last two days alone I have seen no less than twenty times the number of fireworks that I had previously seen in my lifetime.  Unlike most cities in the world, where the fire department puts on highly controlled shows once or twice a year for the New Year or 4th of July, in China EVERYONE launches fireworks, all the time, anywhere, for the entirety of the Spring Festival (roughly ten days). Hundreds of fireworks explode right outside my window every day, and we are not talking about dinky sparklers or firecrackers, but rather the same professional-grade fireworks you would see in a city-sponsored Fourth of July fireworks display. Needless to say, my roommates and I felt it was only respectful to honor this venerated tradition, and did our part in scaring away the mythical beast Nian (the original aim of setting off fireworks) by buying a ton of fireworks to launch in the courtyard of our apartment complex.

While in the US this is beyond extremely illegal to do in the middle of cities, it is entirely commonplace here.  Seeing a row of amazing fireworks explode from a barrier in the middle of a city street—sparks reflected in the glass of highrises—is exquisite. But no matter how beautiful it may be, I would not go so far as to say that it is super-duper safe. Until yesterday, I cannot say that I had ever accidentally ended up in the center of a firework. I am also not quite sure that it was the greatest idea for someone to suddenly set off a strip of firecrackers in front of the cab I was riding in—nearly causing an accident—but oh, who knows. You would think the city of Beijing might be if only slightly more cautious after the disaster of two years ago, when China Central Television’s new 44-story building caught fire from Spring Festival fireworks (the burned remains of which I can see from my apartment). Luckily the building was unfinished and there were no casualties, though perhaps an amendment to regulations might have been appropriate?

It is possible this is no longer the safest tradition for a city of 22 million people packed in highrise-dense urban sprawl, though it undoubtedly has been the most amazing display I have ever seen. We are now in the 5th straight day of fireworks, and as of yet there has been no lull—morning, noon, and 4 in the morning (I’d like to have a word with you, whoever you are) a constant warlike thunder rumbles across Beijing. As you will see from the video below that I took just a couple hours ago from my bedroom window, even though the New Year has passed, the intensity of the fireworks display has not. In brief, if you ever happen to be in Beijing during the Spring Festival, you are in for a treat.

Two Months of Accidental Skin Whitening…

So at the start of my program (2 months ago) my roommate and I went to a nearby supermarket to load up on all the essentials, one among which was body wash. After sifting through a sea of Chinese brands that I didn’t recognize, I came across some Olay body wash that smelled decent enough (pictured below) and opted to buy it. Fast forward two months(last week), I finally take a close look at the bottle and for the first time take note of two crucial characters…. “美白”－“beautiful white.” Of course, I had heard of this phenomenon before, and even seen on several bottles the English “bright white” or other descriptions to that effect. However, for some reason I was under the impression that brands like Olay, Nivea, and the like wouldn’t have bleaching agents, but upon a second trip to the supermarket to replace my body wash I realized that it’s actually pretty hard to find body wash that aren’t 美白。Light skin, as in many parts of the world (Japan and the Middle East for example), is considered a class marker, distinguishing oneself from those who make a living working in the field. This distinction is especially salient in Beijing where (illegal) rural farmers and Beijing residents coexist everyday.

People typically use name “Beijing” in reference to the urban area of the city, though in reality it encompasses a much larger land area of 14 urban and suburban districts and 2 rural counties. The urban portion of Beijing in reality only constitutes a tenth or so of the land area, though I mean not to downplay its size – urban Beijing is HUGE, almost unmanageable sometimes. These suburban districts completely diverge from an American conception of “the burbs”, characterized by a largely poverty-stricken farming culture in which average income often doesn’t exceed 20USD each month. In order to make marginally more money, many of these rural workers regularly commute to urban Beijing in order to sell fruit, street food, etc., though due to Beijing’s complicated residential “hukou” system they are not allowed to purchase or rent homes, and are subsequently marginalized to the fringes of urban Beijing society. Phenomenons like “美白” really bring to light Chinese culture’s longstanding preoccupation with saving face, and highlights the increasingly severe poverty gap in China.

Food in Beijing

(originally written for the Georgetown Overseas Studies Blog, reproduced here with my own permission)

One of the best parts of China is the fact that you get to eat delicious Chinese food everyday. I love my Chinese food in the states, but it tends to be a once-a-week thing, and before coming to China I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to adjust to eating it every meal of every day.  To my surprise, I not only got used to eating it all the time, but I even crave it, often choosing Chinese food over Western food when given the choice. Upon arriving in China, you will quickly realize that all your previous ideas about Chinese food were horribly mistaken. For instance, I have been living in Beijing for over four months now, and have yet to come across General Tso’s Chicken, Sesame Chicken, or Crab Rangoons (which I later discovered were invented in California). Don’t fret though, you will quickly realize how little you miss these dishes. At this point I hardly think of the food I eat as “Chinese food” but rather I just think of it as “food”, having come to appreciate the wide variety of provincial and ethnic culinary traditions---all of which are available in Beijing (especially in the vicinity of Minzu University where ACC Beijing is hosted).


In China, nearly every meal is eaten family style, and when a large group of us go to lunch together it isn’t uncommon to have 10-15 dishes on the Lazy Susan in the middle of the table. You quickly overcome any inhibitions you may have about double dipping, and come to enjoy the myriad different dishes at every meal. The menus at every restaurant are extensive to the point that it sometimes makes ordering food exhausting and stressful, especially since the waiter pressures you to order literally the moment you sit down. Luckily most menus have pictures for every dish, though names like “Old Godmother Steams the Duck Gizzard”, “Egg fries the Pickle Pork”, and “A vegetable” sometimes complicate the situation. Oh, and back to the waiters for a second. So in China you NEVER leave a tip (except perhaps at fancy western hotel restaurants, not 100% sure), it is actually considered rude most of the time. I definitely enjoy this feature, as well as the lack of tax (this applies to everything, not just food), though there are certainly tradeoffs. For instance, the waiters (henceforth known as Fuwuyuans, because I’m having difficulty describing them as anything else) are delightfully sassy (or not so delightfully).  They will ignore you if not called upon, they will have short tempers, and they WILL ask lots of confusing and seemingly angry questions about the food you want, when you had hoped pointing to the picture would be enough.  Don’t be disheartened, restaurant dining in China is truly a great experience, and you soon develop a certain satisfaction in yelling “FUWUYUANRRRRR (R for the Beijing accent)”----not in the least bit rude. OK, so onto the actual meal.


Drinks: Boiled water, Jasmine Green Tea, or Chrysanthemum tea (with rock sugar), are the most common beverages at meals, as well as cold 20oz bottles of Tsingtao or Yanjing beer(for about 35 cents a bottle), usually served in small beer glasses.


Breakfast ($0.30USD-$2.00USD): Not usually my biggest meal of the day. Chinese people like to eat “Zhou”, known as congee to some Americans I think, which is a tasteless rice porridge, made more interesting with the addition of things like sugar, mango, red beans, or a variety of savory options. Along with zhou, people frequently eat youtiao (deep-fried dough sticks) with hot fresh soymilk. I’m usually pressed for time in the morning so I tend to just eat yogurt, which I actually like better in China as it is made fresh and you can add mango, strawberry, passion fruit etc. My other favorite breakfast food is called a Jidan Guanbing, and it’s a sort of oily eggy pancake thing with chicken, spicy sauce and lettuce---all yours for 30 cents from a street vendor! The way I described it might not entice you, but I promise they are amazingly delicious. Moving on.


Lunch/Dinner($1.00USD-$5.00USD, $10.00 if you are being outrageously greedy or want to go somewhere fancy): 


A couple of my favorites


Eggplant: I’m going to start here because it was the thing that most surprised me about my diet in China. In the states I rarely eat eggplant, and apart from eggplant parm I wasn’t terribly fond of it. After coming to China I realized that Eggplant is actually the most delicious vegetable I can think of, people in the west just haven’t figured out how to prepare it right. I’m not even sure I can describe this difference adequately, but essentially everyone I know from America feels the same way. My favorite type of eggplant dish is called “Yuxiang Eggplant”, which is essentially large chunks of eggplant cooked in a sweet and spicy sauce.  Here’s a picture below, and for those willing to try a hand at Chinese cooking, here’s a recipe I just found: http://www.orientalfood.com/cgi-bin/sql_rcp_view.pl?id=1386 (I didn’t actually know until today that there was pork in this dish….)

 [at this point I’m starting to realize that eating constitutes about half my life here, and attempting to sum it up in one post was overambitious. There is a whole world of street food, bubble tea, eggtarts, Chinese-ified American fast food, and the importance of knowing the names of the different types of dumplings that will have to wait until future posts. Nonetheless, I’m going to continue for now….]

Gongbao Jiding: Known to Americans as Kung Pao Chicken, this dish is one of the few familiar dishes that you will find in China. Coming from the Sichuan culinary tradition, Gongbao jiding belongs to the “Ma La” family of dishes—Ma from the peppers that numb your mouth, and La from the spicy peppers. Sichuan (also known as Szechuan) food is famous in China for being among the spiciest.


Hot pot: This is one of my favorite dining experiences in China, though I generally only go a a special outing because it tends to take a longer time to eat. The basic concept revolves around around a large pot of boiling soup set into the middle of a table (often with a divider in the middle so you can have one spicy soup, and one non spicy). First you choose the flavor of soup you want, and then you choose a variety of raw foods to be cooked in the pot. In my experience, the primary food eaten at hotpot is very thinly sliced lamb, though it is always accompanied by various vegetables, lotus root, tofu, “fish tofu”---and if its your thing--- cubes of duck blood. At your own pace you take pieces of raw meat or vegetables and leave them in the soup for about 5 minutes until they are fully cooked. Afterwards you use a strainer spoon to take them out, and then usually dip them in a sesame sauce that tastes kind of like peanutbutter. Whether you are in China for a semester or just to travel, eating Hot Pot is a must.

Okay. I need to stop because I’m getting hungry.  I’ve barely scratched the surface, but I’m not sure that you want or need to read another 10,000 words about Chinese food. Food is an incredibly important part of Chinese culture, and it’s truly impossible to adequately describe China’s food culture in such a small space. As I said, eating is a large part of my life in China, so expect mentions of different foods in future posts. For now, mountains of homework beckon…..