Our lesson on Thursday, in addition to teaching us the word for human rights while completely skirting the issue ("Each country has its own idea of what human rights should be, and we shouldn't let this interfere with diplomatic relations."), gave us the vocabulary and opportunity to have even more political conversations with our Chinese friends. I came here thinking the American values of freedom of thought, speech, and leadership were universal, and that the fact that China hadn't yet implemented them was simply due to its backwardness and the complacency of its citizens. I asked one of my teachers during our one-on-one time whether he thought he should be able to choose his country's leaders, he said, surprisingly, "But I can!" I asked him how this was possible, and it turned out he was a member of the Communist Party and could vote on who its leaders were (who knows these elections are counted). I was surprised that this relatively laid-back Chinese guy was a Party member, and I asked him what the advantages of being one were. He couldn't really tell me, especially since he didn't seem that interested in being involved in the political process. When I said, "Well its fine that you can choose the CCP leaders, but what about the fact that there's only one party and you have to agree with them to become a member and vote?" he replied, "What do you think the most important thing for China is? It's economic development and stability. In such a poor country, you have to make sure people can't ruin the stability. Stability has raised the standard of living here for everyone."
Intrigued, I decided to ask my language partner the same questions. After a discussion of Nixon and Kissinger and a denunciation of Bush from me that she found particularly eloquent, I brought up the question of Party membership. She said she wasn't a member, but hoped to become one soon. She said it was a pretty difficult process, you had to go through interviews to make sure your opinion was the same as theirs. She said she agreed with the Party and there were many reasons why she wanted to be a member. She got strangely embarrassed when I pressed her for the most important one, citing membership in various Communist youth organizations. She echoed my teacher's comments about stability, and didn't really understand what I meant about the importance of free speech. It seems like every Chinese person has their own excuse for not thinking democracy and freedom of expression is a good thing. One of the stranger explanations was put forth by my friend's language partner, who, taking two of the objects in front of her on the desk, said, "Chinese people are used to freedom the size of this cell phone. If you gave them freedom the size of this piece of paper like you're used to in the U.S., we wouldn't know what to do with it. It would be chaotic." Thinking of the chaos of the past 200 years of Chinese history, I felt like I could understand, if not agree with, these ideas.
The weekend provided a much-needed escape from the pollution and crowds of Beijing, as well as the hassle of traveling in a group of seventy. I went with three of my friends in the Duke program to Shanhaiguan, where the Great Wall (or at least a 1980s reconstruction of it) meets the ocean. We left on Friday afternoon on a three-and-a-half hour train ride in the hard seat class, the true Chinese way to travel. We were lucky enough to have reserved seats, but many people endured the entire sixteen hour journey of the train standing in the crowded aisles. When we got to Shanhaiguan, we set out in search of a place to spend the night. We stumbled upon a pretty run-down and simple place, but the price, about three dollars a person, was right, and the proprietors seemed friendly, so we decided to stay there. We, perhaps foolishly, let one of the people at the hotel take us to a place for dinner, and while we were eating he received a phone call from someone who was supposedly his friend in the local police. The friend informed us that she was concerned about our safety and that we couldn't stay at the hotel. Despite our insistence that we were fine and could look out for ourselves, it was clear that for whatever reason we were going to have to relocate. The guy from the hotel tried to arrange another place for us to stay, but by this point we were frustrated and suspicious of his motives. We collected our belongings and went to a more acceptable and expensive hotel. I'm still not exactly clear on what exactly happened with the first place. If it was unacceptable for foreigners to stay there, why were they so happy to accommodate us when we first arrived? And why would the guy who worked there alert the local authorities, even if he was looking for kickbacks from other places? I guess this was my introduction to the arbitrariness of bureaucracy, and a reminder of my helplessness when confronted by it in a foreign place.
The next morning we headed off to the Great Wall and the beach adjacent to it. The beach was not the nicest I've been to, but the water was cool and refreshing. We were the only ones swimming on that section of the beach, and we were met by stares and requests for photographs, probably in large part because of my two bikini-clad companions. A few jellyfish stings later, we headed to one of the overpriced restaurants on the beach for lunch, where I had my first experience using my Chinese to help out another traveler. I managed to get my mustachioed Ukrainian sailor friend (note the freighters in the hazy background of the photo below) a bottle of beer and a plate of squid, but the funniest part was when after I didn't understand something the waitress said, she said "A, ni tingbudong." (Oh, you don't understand). The sailor, recognizing one of the few Chinese phrases he knew, said, in a heavy eastern-European accent, "I also tingbudong."
After lunch, we relaxed on the beach until it started to rain and we went back to our hotel. We spent the evening watching (and in my friend Sadie's case participating in) a night of dancing in Shanhaiguan's small park, where everyone, young and old, seemed to congregate. The next morning, we woke up at 5:30 am to catch our train back to Beijing, on which we didn't have reserved seats. Although we feared having to stand up for the entirety of the trip, a few very friendly Chinese people shared their seats with us in exchange for us satisfying their curiosity about American culture. It turned out to be an enjoyable time, and we learned some useful phrases, and taught our new Chinese friends how to say "fuck you!" which they, needless to say, picked up very quickly, to our slight embarrassment. After the tiring trip, being back in Beijing was a relief, and it even felt a little like home.
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