Fake Chinese in China
Or how we call it, a summary of how we are experiencing China by far, when we ourselves are a leeeeetel bit Chinese (or so we think)
By JC Pagtakhan

How does one explain a place in one word?

To some people, that’s probably rather hard. And considering I’m wordy, it should be something that won’t come easy either. But somehow, only single words came to mind after we landed and cruised the areas from Pudong Airport to our hotel, a good 50 minutes away from the International airport. They were:



Clean.
Boxes.
Bland.
Cold.
Stiff.
Pale.
Industrial.
Reserved.



“They all look like factories,” I exclaim to Kristal, or Taleng, as we call her in the office. She’s been to two countries due to the business transition we were holding, China being the second. She said she wasn’t that excited about the trip, and if the slight disappointment mixing with small awe I’m seeing on her face is proof of that, I wouldn’t know.







A good three hours away from the archipelagic country of the Philippines, China has been known for usually a lot of things related to production: factories, rice, cheap raw materials, cheap by-products, cheap labor; and infamous for its rather controlling government. Attesting to it are our Visas which we were granted only 14 days of stay when we should be in for 21. And of course, we all know how they have blocked Facebook and Twitter, which I would remember rather late, like a good 15 minutes after I threw my laptop unto the wall that I would recall reading about it a few months back in Time Magazine. Thank god for those magazine lunches, except they save me rather late.

But if China’s being controlling right now, it’s definitely not evident. With the hype of the recent Shanghai Expo 2010 ongoing, it is hard to find control: in fact, Shanghai’s being over decorated to show progress, with none of the tethering present except for the safety of the tourists, perhaps. With the catch phrase “Better City, Better Life,” China has courted the interest of the other progressing countries to show off their development in juxtaposition with Shanghai’s. No farmer hats and rice farming here, no siree. Mostly colourful buildings and robotics and anything remotely similar to computers.

Space.

Our hotel room is just a stone’s throw away from the Shanghai Indoor Stadium, this huge dome which supposedly housed facilities enough to make a sports fanatic come to a climax. From our floor, we could see about 10 basketball hoops in just one lot, and even their parking lot is utilized to become a venue for street soccer. China’s rather huge on kicking the ass of the next Ronaldo wannabe, and while we have the Lakers and Celtics games in season, China couldn’t give a squat—their buildings are adorned with wall adverts of Nike Football.

But this is just highlighting only a small part of how to understand a little bit of the China hype: see, if there’s something they’re really good at, it’s utilization of SPACE. And it shows: their favourite sport would need a huge field to play on while the rest of the world could settle with a small hoop; and Shanghai has a penchant for creating huge structures which would still be impressive from the stratosphere: towering buildings, huge domes, well lit and big spreads of advertising. One of the malls has this light globe which flashes random advertisements, and even with all those things occupying the streets of Shanghai, there’s even still room for your jaw to drop. And that same concept is what the Shanghai Expo’s exhibiting as well, as they have space—MASSIVE space—to exhibit huge domes and pavilions per country, that the whole space in itself became one gigantic wonderland. It’s not expo, it’s DisneyFuckingWorld.







Convenience and silence

It’s also fun to note that when the term “reserved” came to mind, it wasn’t just about the scenery—it’s about the culture as well. Going around Shanghai, it seems everything’s geared to look sublime, that, again, dressing up Shanghai for the Expo just looked like it’s a massive effort. Don’t be fooled by huge domes—they’re playing soccer inside silently. Kidding.

Seriously, though, reserve even seems underrated. Their people are rather quiet, except for a few exceptions over the phone or when they’re arguing. They have bikes and motors all around, but they’re all hushed. I’m not kidding. While Philippines and India may have a LOT of small-motored bikes which are enough to wake you in the middle of the night after cruising the street 5 blocks away, China’s full of bikes which you won’t even hear even if it’s already behind you. And that could be hard as a pedestrian because they’re fond of occupying the pedestrian sidewalks as well. Most of them are soft spoken, and they have a tendency to keep to themselves, or sometimes, even avoid you once you’ve started English. They do get by with a little bit of broken English and a hella LOT of hand gestures. And Yes, and No. XD







But for all their reservation, China has to be applauded for their systematic way of doing things. They have about 13 train lines which originally did not intersect, but they have created subways which would allow you to walk from one train line to another. It doesn’t matter which train line you ride to get to the destination, as long as you get there—it’s just one card, one payment. No need for multiple entries, ala Pasay MRT – LRT. Imagine the same thing except you don’t need to log your card out. You just walk to the next train, hop on it, walk into another, and come out. A lot of their going around utilized their subway—it’s the cheapest form of going around. Even cab drivers aren’t into the whole idea of going a loooong way for you. Shanghai’s way too big for that. Originally, when we asked a cab driver to take us to our hotel and consulted a map, we kind of thought, oh, we’re fucked. The driver doesn’t know how to get around. Then again, they apparently all utilize maps—they simply just don’t know all the streets. It’s THAT huge of a web.

Their bus lines are also numbered based on route. Sadly, the street names on the bus are written in Chinese, so you won’t be able to understand if you’re new. If there’s someone you could ask for that, it would be good to know the routes and ask for the bus number. Some websites give details for the bus routes, but usually, it’s still either cabs or subway for us foreigners. Cabs also provide receipts ALWAYS. They also issue exact fare ALWAYS. Manila cab drivers, sorry. You can’t fit any of your “no-change” tricks here.



They’re more into the toppings.

Food here is usually categorized into three; vegetables, meat, or noodles. Lol. Seriously, though, you buy something, it’s usually a combination of the three, or any of the three. It’s a staple, I suppose.







The thing about dining in China, is that it’s nowhere near your expectations. You say, oh, it’s Chinese food. I have had Chinese food. Oh, China will screw up your definition. The thing about other countries, or at least with Manila, they like going for safe—that means, your noodles will usually have things you will safely eat, like a few veggies here and there, flavoured noodles here and there, flavoured soups here and there. China, on the other hand, will not give a fuck about your taste. )) If you think Chinese food is an acquired taste, then you definitely have no idea.







Chinese food here is mostly bland—and I mean it. Their noodles don’t taste anything, their soup don’t taste anything. But like everything in china, it’s a pattern: they have space, but what they do with space make it interesting. They’re bland, but how they pepper it with small culture make it interesting. And same with food, it’s bland for the most part, but China’s huge on the toppings. Noodles and soup—it’s like rice. It’s the toppings that matter. And mostly, find yourself asking for toppings refill more than the noodles. Here are examples of our dinners for the past days:

- Rice noodles + veggies with different sauce that kind of tastes a little like afritada and the size looks like it’s freaking made for two.







- Noodles + soup with kinchay (parsley? I can’t remember this), seaweed, peanuts, cabbage and again seemingly made for two.
- Noodles + string beans + peanuts + papaya strings + fried egg + meat + beans. Again, almost for two.
- Vegetable dumplings. FTW.






- Instant noodles which looked like it’s infused in soy / oyster sauce plus hardboiled egg.



Yes, our stomachs were cursing us after the 3rd day.



They also seemingly don’t get scared with combining and packing stuff. Their 711 version has noodles with kangkong on the packets. Not dehydrated. I am not kidding. And it’s nice, too. They also serve chicken balls type of food on the convenience store counters, which are served in paper cups and bbq sticks. They also sell ready to eat stuff: sardines, mushrooms, kangkong, you name it. You buy the noodles, buy the extras, then combine them or eat them as toppings. Oh, and did I tell you they’re not scared of new flavours? They have Kiwi flavoured Lays Chips. A. Ma. Zing.

Because it’s just different when it’s authentic.

You know how they say, the world’s a book, and those who do not travel are only reading a page? Well, just so you think you have a local Chinatown, don’t assume you’ve seen it all. Binondo is NOWHERE near this experience.

Suffice it to say, I was wrong to judge beforehand. But hey, we kind of all do. That’s why we have the word “compare,” and that’s how we realize that man, this is fun. We don’t have this in the Philippines. Or they have this differently in the Philippines.

We still have two weeks more to go and we intend to experience more. I’ll tell you about it later on. It’s still fun, because our Asian nature allows us to blend in. Of course,once they start talking to us in chinese, we just exclaim “English, English!” and they pause, think of a better response, and then phrase it differently along with a lot of funny hand gestures. Lost in translation, but we still get along and still make a point.

On our first lunch experience, Taleng and I ate at this restaurant without pictures on the menu. We didn’t know how to order, and the people kept wondering what to feed us. They asked around if anybody spoke English. Nobody did.

The owner disappeared for a bit, then came out with a kangkong leaf. She pointed at it. We vigorously nodded our heads, then they came back with fried kangkong, plus two bowls of rice. Taleng pointed at a set of noodles and hoped to god they’d give it to us cooked. They did. Later on, one of the service girls knelt in front of our table, then said, smiling:

“Welcome. Welcome to China.” Then said something more in broken English, which we didn’t get to catch.

We gave huge smiles and said, Thank You. We ate the food with gusto.



Welcome. One word which made a difference.



Reserved or not, right there and then, we fell in love with China.