The two strange things about Xining. I was talking to a cabbie today, and he mentioned the "two strange things about Xining." As he said it these as follows: 1) There are very few bicyclists in Xining. As opposed Chengdu-- where there is a special lane for bicyclists and scooter riders--or Beijing--where I remember one being more likely to be hit by a bicyclist than a car when crossing the street back in 2002--Xining has no specialized lanes, and though it is not uncommon to see cyclists riding around town, they are not present in the massive numbers associated with other cities. And 2) One sees no window-mounted air-conditioning units marring the external appearances of buildings. It never once occurred to me until he said it, but he's right. Xining's mild summer temperatures and perpetually concrete skyscrapers render air-conditioning unnecessary. Huh.
It's worth mentioning that I had never heard of these before today, but he said it so "matter-of-fact"ly that i felt like it must be part of a bigger discourse.
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I've been traveling around Western China a bit recently. It means there's much to write,and much less time in which to write it as I continually play catch up. Please bear with me. For now, feel free to go to the media page and click the link entitled "T!betan chess," where I watch a group of (mostly) old men sit on the sidewalk playing this game that looks like "Go" (but isn't) and is exclusive to A mdo (as far as I can tell... my father in law had never seen it before). I hope you enjoy.
I've recently come to the realization that many people digitally alter their photos before putting them online. I'm too much of a luddite, and too busy (perhaps I should have written lazy) to do this really. If you like the photos, take comfort in recognizing that what you see is what I saw exactly. Personally, I don't think photos on the plateau need any alteration. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then I don't see why half of them have to be "I cropped this photo, and add a sepia tone layer," etc. There's an interesting new culinary phenomenon sweeping through Western Chinese cities these days (and perhaps elsewhere, I wouldn't know): the house restaurant. Ambitious restauranteurs are abandoning the traditional storefronts and instead turning individual apartments into restaurants. This is particularly popular with Tbtn restaurant owners, with a good number having sprung up in new high rise buildings. They are all decorated in Tbtn style but each has its own selling point. One restaurant might make all the food fresh. Another has a black tent in the living room in which customers can enjoy their meal while sitting on pillows. Still another complements the Tbtn style with dozens of books for customers to read while waiting, thus underscoring the owners credentials as both a traditional T person and a well-known blogger, singer, and author.
The economics of the restaurant business and advances in technology make this set-up potentially profitable, providing one can get the word out well enough. Firstly, such a restaurant, lacking in the store-front space that might make encourage walk-in business, needs a way to encourage word of mouth. Although the methods are still rudimentary (this is no Wharton Business School guerrilla marketing campaign), WeChat (I've mentioned this app before) has proven a remarkably useful tool for generating word of mouth, and getting the word out. Secondly, however, it seems to have become increasingly expensive to get a regular storefront. Rents are getting higher, often far exceeding the rent of apartments, while new spaces often require a zhuan rang fei 转让费, a fee to take over the lease. These fees often cost tens of thousands of (US) dollars even for the least desirable locations, and that doesn't even count the money it costs to decorate and get all of the necessary equipment. The start-up capital required to open a new restaurant, can then make it prohibitive. Interestingly, this is not limited to restaurants. A number of other businesses have also begun to use this (DeCerteau-ian) tactic in their incessant quest to realize the China dream, and share in the country's "economic miracle." Cosmetics shops, hair stylists (not super professional, but still), jiating lvguan 家庭旅馆 ‘home hotels,' massage parlors, yoga studios and more. I don't know about the enforcement, nature, or even existence of zoning laws in this country, but I would guess that some such businesses are unlicensed. A number, however, are credentialed, and proudly display their credentials near the entry. It will be interesting to see where this phenomenon will go, and whether they ultimately will be able to compete with more traditional businesses. I first arrived in China at the tender age of 19. I didn't drink at that time, but I was immediately confronted with (something resembling) the banquet culture for which China is (was recently) famous. I quickly learned that here people are expected to sing at these banquets. People are also expected to drink. The two were very much connected in my mind. When I arrived in Qinghai in 2009 for my first long-term stay in the region, I learned that this idea was in no way limited to a single ethnic group. If anything, it was more pronounced in Western China. As I was, by then, a drinker, the combination of liquor and music became indelibly linked in my mind as both culturally appropriate and incredibly enjoyable.
In the last few years, I have noticed a general decline in both aspects of this culture. It has become more socially acceptable to refuse liquor at a party, and to refuse to sing. There may be separate and unconnected specific causes for both of these. Regarding the former, it's possible that extensive secular and religious recognition of the potential negative (physical and social) effects of alcohol consumption have begun to affect local drinking culture. The professionalization of music, meanwhile, might have led to a decreased emphasis on the individual, non-professional . The two of these are also, culturally very connected. In a conversation with a friend today lamenting the downfall of singing across the high Plateau (and at parties more specifically), he told me of a traditional folksong lyric that suggests a causal relationship between first the consumption of liquor and the singing of songs: མདོ་དབུས་གཙང་ཡུལ་ལ་ཆོས་ཞིག་དར།། ཆོས་མ་དར་གོང་བ་དུང་ཞིག་དར།། དུང་དཀར་པོ་ཆོས་ཀྱི་སྣ་འདྲེན་རེད།། སྨད་ཨ་མདོ་ཡུལ་ལ་གླུ་ཞིག་དར།། གླུ་མ་དར་གོང་བ་ཆང་ཞིག་དར།། ཆང་བདུད་རྩི་གླུ་གི་སྣ་འདྲེན་རེད།། In the land of Dbus gtsang the dharma spread Before Dharma could spread, conch shells spread The white conch is the dharma's guide. In the land of A mdo singing spread Before Singing could spread, liquor spread. Ambrosial liquor is singing's guide. That's all for now.,, The new iPhones (and by this I mean the iPhone 5, and later models) have a nifty panorama function to complement the impressive cameras they already have in their phones. I have added a gallery of two panoramas I have taken recently, and will hope to add more after each ensuing trip out of town. The two there at the moment are Labrang Monastery and Xining.
I took advantage of the May holiday to head to Labrang for a couple of days. It was wonderful to get out of town. I hadn't ventured out to Labrang for nearly 8 years (since August 2006), and the differences were mind-bogglin. Roads were paved, the city had expanded and (blanket feature of modernization in China spoiler alert) added a handful of high-rise buildings. The monastery was mostly as I remembered it, but monastic and secular space seemed more clearly delineated... or perhaps I can just recognize the difference better now. I didn't see any monks playing Counterstrike in internet cafe's this time. There are also three (count 'em) coffee shops! It was a very interesting experience. The panorama here provides a (basically) South to North (left to right) look up the valley from the hill where the thangka is displayed during Smon lam chen mo (on the eest side of town) After returning from Gansu, my wife and I took a stroll to Xishan (West Mountain). I took a panorama there too, but it was a depressing one. I remember sitting on West Mountain with two good friends back in 2009 and marveling at how one could see across the valley almost unimpeded. Five short years later, a depressingly large number of (here it is again) high rises dominates one's line of sight. The image goes West to East (Left to Right) through Xining, and is taken from Xishan (which despite being called "West Mountain" is located in the Southwestern part of town). If you wish to see the images, please follow this link |
About TimAs you can see elsewhere on this webpage, I conduct research on ethnic minorities in western China. This blog offers semi-academic musings on the minutiae of daily life out here--the sort of information otherwise destined for footnotes. Categories |