China For a Year

Amelie and the Bosses Wife

2011-03-17T21:13:00.001-07:00

I met a woman at one of the coffee shops here, or rather a girl… its hard to tell the two apart sometime. At any rate, she didn’t look Chinese and spoke notably good English- presumably from the amount of time that she had spent traveling the rest of the world with English speakers. It’s very uncommon to meet a chinese person here who has left the country for the sole sake of travelling to see another place. Amelie had large dark eyes and wore too much mascara to accentuate them. She had small pursed, doll-like lips, and spoke with awkward pauses in a hushed tone that made one think she was ashamed to be heard. She had come to Changchun from Beijing because her cousin was the owner of the Café she was currently working; and needed some help running the place during spring festival. Amelie seemed perpetually unimpressed with life, and only usually lightened up to proudly exhibit some odd abstract paintings she was working on. She was someone you wanted to make laugh, cry, scream, anything at all. Just wondering if there was actually a spirit hidden somewhere deep down there, or that seemingly emotionless shell was all there was.

The boss was perpetually away on business in Beijing, leaving his wife as the acting manager of operations at the shop. She was a former stewardess, and carried herself with a flirtatious grace, that certainly left a lot to the imagination. At least, retroactively imagining what I always think about when I see an attractive stewardess on a plane. But I digress. She would smoke thin cigarettes and cross her legs effortlessly as she watched on of the occasional live bands play in the evening. She was lonely, and made no secret of the fact. They once invited me to eat a meal with the staff in a small room in the café. The Boss had apparently come back for a few days to kiss his wife on the forhead and cook for us. He was a massive man who wore his pants very high. He obviously didn’t give too much of a shit about anyone there, and seemed as though he was home for the obligatory husband dance, rather than any real interest in the place. That’s all well and good, and I was probably reading too much into the whole thing… but that’s what makes a good story.

What makes it even better is that one day, Amelie confessed life at the café had become increasingly unbearable for her and the rest of the staff. Apparently, the Bosses wife had recently received an unintentional phone call from her husband- made from a hotel room as the boss was engaged in salacious acts with another woman; that certainly wasn’t the Bosses wife. The Bosses wife listened on the other end of the line, hundred of miles away, for as long as she could bare. For the following week, she would confess to Amelie her pain. She would keep Amelie awake to the early morning hours (they often shared a bed as sisters) and would take it out on the staff of the Café during the day. As one might expect, there were flights of rage and unreasonable expectations from those around her; undoubtedly as the details of that phone call rattled about in her brain, making it impossible for that wonderful device to work properly.

She became jealous of Amelie, and despite the fact we were only friends, she also seemed to think the attention I lavished as a friend, was also an indication that I was choosing another woman over her. I couldn’t tell the Bosses wife I knew about the situation, but part of me had a deep desire to comfort her, followed by some appreciative love making. This, of course, is absurd and inappropriate, but sometimes its good to accept these deep dark inclinations before they blossom into reprehensible actions.

I asked Amelie why the boss and his wife wouldn’t just split up, divorce, anything to address the truth of their dysfunctionality as a couple, and move on with their lives. I learned divorce in China is neither common, nor generally accepted as a possibility to deal with grave flaws in a marriage. The boss and his wife also had a child together, which, in china, is essentially the glue that will keep an unhappy marriage going till death finally parts.

Amelie eventually couldn’t fix any of the problems that weren’t her own, and returned to Beijing with a small suitcase of clothes and defeat. She is happy now. The Bosses wife still smokes thin cigarettes and crosses her legs, looking hopelessly into some horizon far away. A place she would like to be, but will more than likely never get to; one more reminder to cherish the freedom of choice.

Relief for Japan

2011-03-16T18:31:00.001-07:00

I have been making music now and again with a friend here who is vastly more musically talented than me; and tolerant enough to let me sing on many of the tracks he puts together. He sent me an email with a “great idea” (as follows)

Hey,

My dad's best friend is the owner of japan's youtube (www.nicovideo.jp/). He said he could help us make a song go viral if it is just ukulele+vocals and is written about the japanese earthquake. The song will get millions of views and be sold for 1$ a pop with 100% going to japanese charity. There isnt a lot of money to be made for us, but it would definitely put us on the map and help us with getting a massive amount of views and followers. The catch is that it has to be done within a day or so.

There are people currently writing some lyrics in japanese for us, and I just finished putting together a ukulele track. Can you make a melody on this song tonight, and maybe some basic lyrics about standing together collectively as a group to be strong in the face of the earthquake? We can record your vocals tomorrow and it should be able to go viral by tomorrow night or wednesday. (end email)

I then received some vocals written in Japanese. It should be noted I literally know nothing about speaking Japanese, nor have I ever attempted such a feat in earnest. (lyrics as follows)

sono choushi da kotoga a ru
(that's the spirit, such a thing happened)

Jikan ga sakusei shi, sakusei
(time makes it, preparation)

tensai kei kaku do-ori
(disaster, just as planned)
nanigotomo yuujou hodo taisetsu dehanai
(nothing is as precious as friendship)

nippon ga tsuyoi
(Japanese are strong)
sore wo mite watashi ha ikiononda
(when I saw it, it took my breath away)

Jibun jishin o sai kōchiku sa seru
(letting ourselves rebuild)
haigo ni aru wareware no hakai o nokoshite
leaving our destruction behind
Koukiaru
(glorious)
toki to shian ha mottomo tsuyoi kanashimi demo yawarageru
(time and thinking tame the strongest grief)

(end lyrics)

This did seem like a reasonably sound idea when I first got the email, but that was before actually sitting down and trying to “sing” the above lyrics in any fashion that might remotely be considered Japanese… or anything other than random mumbling that might as well not even be lyrics. I was skeptical of this song getting off the ground, letting alone being able to imagine some dude in Tokyo listening to this piece of crap on the ipod and actually enjoying it.

At any rate, we recorded it. Oh, did we record it. It was difficult to distinguish lyrics from laughter in the end, as every track started off with some somber line about a nation recovering from grief, and me breaking into hysterical laughter about how retarded this idea was. I really couldn’t imagine anyone understanding a single word… maybe Nippon. Unfortunately, I don’t think that track is going to make its way over to Japan, but sometimes, it’s the process that counts.

On a serious note, Tsunamis are really bad. Really, really, bad.

Just Another Near Stabbing in the Land of the Lost

2011-03-14T21:03:00.001-07:00

I saw this wild haired Moroccan guy named Amin nearly get stabbed with a broken beer bottle last night. It was exhilarating. I had never actually seen a person smash a bottle like that, and then proceed to brandish it as a weapon. It was exactly how I had seen it portrayed in films, apart from the added element of my own personal fear and surprise; that made the situation difficult to process as an un-invested bystander. I heard the explosion before I felt the glass, little tickles on the arm hair, accompanied by a fine mist of beer. I suppose that’s what happens when you get a Moroccan, an African, a few Chinese people, and an American in a bar together. It seems like I should have a better joke to tell with that crowd. Having not heard whatever was said to incite the attempted beer stabbing, I just did what everyone else did, stood up and backed away from the guy holding a bottle like a knife, intermittently lunging at the man standing next to me, covered in alcohol and pleading sanity to deaf ears. It’s strange to look around at everyone else in that moment, everyone seemingly paused in time, incapable of motion; due to uncertainty as to what the appropriate action might be.

Its amazing to me that things like that have the capacity to happen, that some combination of words, will actually force someone up out of there chair, break a bottle, and actually try to murder someone with it. I suppose because I am generally the person behind the barbed insults and offensive comments, its difficult to relate to someone allowing something as insignificant as an insult affect the outcome of the rest of their lives. I can’t believe anyone can justify that level of bodily harm- not to mention jail time, over a few words strung together (or cartoon depictions of Allah). I understand reactions to physical attacks, when the fight or flight adrenaline kicks in, but what part of an insult actually sets those glands into action? I just don’t get it. Apparently, Amin said to the guy, “by the way, I fucked your wife”. Granted, that’s a good non-sequitor comment to get someone up out of their chair and ready to duel, but a stabbing? Shit.

At any rate, the moral of the story is to not sit next to Africans or Moroccans, someone else is probably going to try and stab them

A Chinese Pimp

2011-02-27T03:55:00.000-08:00

In most any place I travel for a few days or more, the first thing I like to go is get a cheesy local map from a hotel that has landmarks in friendly pictoral form. Any picture that isn’t represented by a miniature representation of the actual place really isn’t worth seeing.

This is a palace of a former chinese ruler I went to- that I literally remember no factual information about. I was going to google if for the sake of writing something remotely useful, but that just feels disingenuous. I remember that it was a pretty big miniature castle on the map; that I needed to take a cab ride to get to, and previously housed a former ruler of Xi’an / China. I think.

After years of traveling and attempting to occasionally write about it, you realize that the historical significance of a place is fucking boring. The thing that makes a story worth telling is the complexity and relative insanity of the local people one meets.

This particular ridiculous scenario came in the form of a wiry, greasy little man, who had an unnerving habit of swiping at the few oily strands of hair that perpetually hung in front of his face. Almost as soon as getting out of my taxi, his squirrelly figure was upon me, fingers yellow with the tar of cigarettes and a suit stained with whatever other nefarious endeavors he partook of in his spare time. He was relentless in ignoring my pleas to leave me alone, and after repeated efforts to physical push him away, I finally acquiesced, and allowed him to give me a 30 yuan tour of this great historical landmark. With enough harassment, a pushy salesman could probably pressure me into letting them give me a b.j. Or maybe even me paying to give THEM a b.j. but that’s one hell of a good salesman.

In retrospect, I remember almost nothing about the history of this place, but the mental photo of this strange man remains vividly engrained in my memory. His horrifically awkward company was worth much more than the ticket of admission to whatever the hell this place was. Its interesting to think about what you remember. Is it the typically amazing things? Or the ones riddled with the greatest amount of absurdity?

This particular tour started with some unintelligible English, as I wandered from place to place, ignoring any of the verbal jibberish that came out of my tour guides mouth, until he occasionally brought out a piece of paper, and crudely scribbled some words on it.

They read as follows:

Cave

1936

Japanese

C.c.p

President

I imagine going to give a lecture at a university, and only having this one page of notes to take with me. I look down to try and remember what I needed to mention during the course of my speech and thinking “oh fuck, I shouldn’t have been so high when I wrote this down”.

It wasn’t soon after this first page of notes, that my guide thought another very relevant word to write on its own dedicated paper, was the very clearly spelled out word “SEX”.

This came with a follow up question. “You like sex?”. This is an interesting question to have to answer on the spot, because your first reaction is “yes, I like sex very much! Thank you for asking!”. However in the context of this greasy squirming man, you have to be aware that an answer in the positive is going to lead down some very bad, but distinctly familiar roads. In this situation, the desire for the unexpected is highly tempting. Where could this lead? However, due to prior experiences with such thing in many different countries, I am forced to reply “no, I don’t like sex”.

Ones heart sinks with such proclamations.

The moral of the story is that sometimes its fun to waste a few bucks to meet a Chinese pimp.

Terracotta Boner

2011-02-13T17:02:00.001-08:00

Another check mark on the great bucket-list of life was visiting the tomb of the terracotta soldiers in the ancient capital of China, Xi’an.

The truncated story is that there was an emperor who wanted to die with a lot of protection. He apparently wanted to show up at heavens gate with an entire army that could take down not only Jesus, but the father, the holy ghost… the whole mythical shebang. He had people working round the clock on these lifesize representations of individual soldiers, each one having their own unique facial characteristics, fingernails, even lines of hair etched into their terracotta heads. They were arranged in military formation, as if this still army might actually encounter foes in the afterlife. Horseman guiding the way, archers for back up, and multitudes of foot soldiers prepared for hand to hand combat

This massive army of afterlife protection was only uncovered in the 70s, a random farmer digging a well, accidentally unearthing his future career as a signer of books at a xi’an gift shop. There’s a photo of Bill Clinton shaking his hand.To be fair, one of my dreams has always been to discover something rare, and then have a lifetime of comfort based on being lucky. The reason that no one had known about this man made wonder of the world previously, was that everyone that had worked on, or had any knowledge of the soldiers was subsequently murdered- or quieted in some other violent manner. The craftsmen entrusted with creating this posthumous protection for their ruler, lived breathed, and eventually died for this work.

The Soldiers were originally painted all kinds of glorious color, but apparently, the paint oxidizes once it is unearthed, and the paint quickly deteriorates before the dismayed archaeologists, watching their precious heritage fade before their watery eyes. Despite modern technology, science still hasn’t found a way to unearth the remaining soldiers without destroying the paint… so a good portion of the terra cotta treasure remains buried.

I was pretty certain I had a simple solution that no other archaeologist had figured out yet, involving shoving a gigantic fish tank 50 feet under ground- but all I managed to do was to upset my guide. Fucking idiot.

The best way one can pay homage to the awe inspiring terracotta soldiers, is to have oneself photographed in the traditional garb of one of the qing dynasty soldiers, while also using a spear as a giant phallis. Its what I like to call “respect, American style”

Anything you want

2011-01-13T05:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I had an experience that blew my mind for some odd reason. Reminding me that there is still so much here to notice, to be amazed by.

In China, if you need something done, almost anyone will do it for the right price. If you need to move furniture and don't have the number for a moving van, a man with a donkey will certainly suffice. I recently decided a flatscreen tv would be an appropriate purchase (it wasn't) and decided to ask a random man at a small shop about mounting brackets to put it on my wall. I also decided to ask if he knew someone who could help me with the manual labor. He promptly walked out from behind his counter, said something to another man that was roughly translated as "we will now go to his house" and the other man agreed with no reservation whatsoever. I gave them around 14 american dollars to come to my house, mount a television, clean their mess, and offer me cigarettes afterwards.

I think in America, the idea of what you will do for money has a certain amount of moral dilemma associated with it. Granted, I believe almost any human being will bend their morals for a certain price, but in China, it is on display in the most shameless fashion I have ever noticed.

A week or two before the television, I also bought an exceedingly large sofa, and had no way to move it. I gave a man around 6 dollars to load my couch, my coffee table, and me; riding the sofa- in the back of his van. He also gave me a bunch of cigarettes, but also started singing a song that I believe was directed at me not giving him enough money.

Money rules china. If you ask people here what they want, or what they want to achieve, its not a pat on the back from the communist party, its a handful of cold hard cash. I dont know why thats hard to understand for other countries.

I am going to ask the next person I pass on the street to come to my house and fluff my pillows for 200 yuan.

Back to the Beast

2011-01-04T03:40:00.001-08:00

I am back in China. Year # 2. Before I start the next chapter, I wanted to wrap up a return to America, and the subsequent decision to come back to Changchun.

I was offered a freelance job in Washington DC, making political ads for the recent elections. I happened to land in DC the same day as a Tea Party rally that consumed the city like a plague of uneducated, racist, fat, rats.

It was my first time back in America to be able to speak my native tongue to others, and I found myself engaged in multiple conversations with fatties draped in American flags; particularly about what they were marching for. It wasn’t long before the sea of zenophobic posters and signs came washing past me like a tidal wave of hate. There was Barack Obama as Osama bin laden, Barack Obama as the devil… even a massive effigy of Barack Obama. Tarred and feathered.

Is this the America my students in china were so enamored by? I realized that in America, freedom often means “freedom to be retarded”. This was also supported by the fully retarded kid I met at the rally. I thought; “that’s about right”.

It wasn’t long before I was back at the old 12-15 hour days of animating. Only this time, all limited to political mudslinging, the RNC the DNC, the AARC and a whole sea of acronyms that cease to mean anything more than “bullshit” after the first 5 or 6 ads. I originally had reservations about working for the republican side as much as the democrats, but after you meet the bastards from the agencies, and try to digest their messages.. the lines become blurred, and there is no right or wrong in the realm of getting out the vote. Another day, another dollar.

These dickheads that shape the political discourse in America, sitting behind me, giving creative “input”- the entire time checking facebook, talking about which senatorial candidates they would be willing to bang, and how they keep fit during a strenuous political season.

I hated America for 3 months straight. I also hated myself for being willing to churn out this garbage for the almighty dollar. Granted, it was a lot of dollars, but I hope I can have the conviction to turn down that crap in the future. I often saw the spots I made on television, and never once proudly announced to others “I made that fucking thing!!!”

I missed teaching. I missed the kids, and I missed being fulfilled. I missed that fat little chinese kid who laughed about something stupid until tears rolled down his face… I missed laughing with him.

At any rate, I made my dirty money, and ran back to china. It was great to see family and old friends.. I love you mom!... but here I am, ready to enjoy life again.

I love you.

This Is It

2010-09-03T02:10:00.001-07:00

This is it, originally uploaded by jasonfetz78.

Its really difficult to comprehend the superstardom of someone like Michael Jackson. My students on the other side of the world use his name in class more than any other foreign celebrity I hear, more than any chinese pop sensation, and certainly more than the names of current or former leaders of chinese government.

An even greater testament to his legacy is this well oiled impersonator, a 8 year old fireball by the name of Mello. I was again graced with the opportunity to judge other peoples worth- this time in the form of a music contest, and gleefully watched this trainwreck of auditory torture.

I have to admit, despite Mellos stellar performance, there were also these two twelve year old girls that danced like inner city strippers who could have easily taken the gold.

My co-worker Chloe pointed out Mellos mother, watching entirely unimpressed from the sidelines. She is the sexy Ice-Queen in white, standing stoic against the wall. Apparently, Mello had taken 1st place in a big show in Beijing, and his mother literally thought this stage was too small for his talent, thus having a permanent expression of "I couldn't give a shit less". I have to admit, something about her apathy really turns me on. I remember having a girlfriend who drove me insane with desire, simply by showing no outward desire to have sex whatsoever. Goddamn I hate / loved her. I cant imagine Mellos mom is enthused by much anyways; I imagine Mello literally shooting magic sparkles off his body while he dances, and his mother yawning as she notes the lack of clarity in his voice.

Sometimes indifference is the best way to make a success of your child. The less you care, the more they try to achieve that unattainable love. I mean, how hard did Michael Jackson have to work to change his fathers fists into hugs?

I am curious to see what future asian crossovers make it to the American scene. What international acts will eventually make an indelible mark on the American stage?

I seriously doubt the Wonder Girls are going to make the cut.

Tat Tat Tatted Up!

2010-08-24T20:59:00.001-07:00

Tatoo Guru
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78
Let me be honest, I don't like tattoos. They scare me. I never know when the tattooed vagabond will attempt to rob me so he/she can feed their vampire like need for more ink. I've seen it happen, and god only knows how much I wish I could forget.

I accompanied one of my Aussie coworkers to a tattoo shop in Changchun; a dimly lit corridor on a small dark alley. Where else. It would have been difficult to distinguish as a tattoo shop, apart from the smell of depravity that wafted into the streets. The head tattooist (what is a tattoo maker called?) was a man who apparently learned his trade from some wandering Tokyo master, and really had a handle on his craft. I could gather he knew what he was doing from the image on the sample wall of a perfectly shaded little kitten, that made me rethink my view of the terrible tattoo. I was tempted to get a series of small puppies, kittens, and bunny tattoos all across my lower back, romping and stomping through a lush green meadow, emanating a light glow of truth and peace. If it wasn't for me being asked to leave after explaining this vision, I probably would have had it done.

Everyone smokes everywhere in China, so the tattoo shop was no different. Smoke drifted up from every ashtray, making it difficult to see through the haze of nicotine. There were random groups of Chinese people that would come and go, giggling nervously at the foreigner getting a tattoo in Hanzi that said "I got this tattoo in China". If it wasn't for the fact I may someday want a job that isn't a horse farmer, I may have been tempted to do something similar.

I'm not really sure what makes a good tattoo honestly, they all look like the mark of the devil to me- but this thing looked pretty damn perfect. I can barely sign my name legibly, let alone tattoo some perfectly scripted Chinese characters on a slightly quivering forearm, through a sea of smoke and the din of drunken chatter.

The overall cost of the entire tattoo was 800 yuan, which roughly translates to a little bit more than $100. So, even the least employable tattoo victim can afford a great piece of work for a fraction of the price.

One more reason to love China.

Why China Will Win the War

2010-08-24T15:47:00.001-07:00

Ron America
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78
Remember what used to make America great?

The days when you could find a balloon pop game where you could use a semi-automatic weapon to break the balloon. Nowadays, people barely even seem to REALLY love their guns anymore, I mean, we voted for Obama; a man who plainly wants to come into your home while you are sleeping, fill your wife with his muslim juice, and steal all of your weapons. There used to be a time when a man could say "I love my family, but I love my guns ability to protect them even more"

Come on America, if we want to turn around that plummeting economy, we need to going back to our roots, guns guns and more guns. The tea party has made some headway, and sure, some people like to subtly support things like being afraid of non-caucasions and a need to use guns as protection against the OTHERS (voting republican or living in Arizona) but I miss the days of waving around loaded pistols while also chasing around everyone that looks different than white people. I never actually went to a history class, because I was too busy learning that Jesus made dinosaurs out of angel wings, but that is the glorious image of Americas past imparted to me from Glen Beck.

Lets get our shit together America- load that gun and hit the streets! China sure isn't being a pussy about it.

Adrienne Ralston can back me up on this.

My First Chinese Television Appearance

2010-08-18T16:12:00.001-07:00

the mic to the audience
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78
You would think it would take a lot more to get on television. In this particular instance, all I really did, is make a parent happy (flicked her bean) who subsequently recommended that I be a judge on a preteen english game show.

Frankly, I was hoping for a lot more out of this experience, and when I heard the word "judge" I was anticipating taking a hilarious role as a Simon Cowell type, doling out the insulting quips with no remorse. It was a different story when you see how terrified and nervous these kids are. I kept thinking of that scene in Magnolia when the Whiz kid Whizzes his pants. This was a wonderful display of parental pressure to perform, in the form of a poorly assembled game show. The kids would be passionately SLAMMING the buzzers (which never actually worked) causing a nervous stage hand to come running out to do some quick electrical wiring, while also frantically taping up the podiums that kept falling apart.

My job, was to judge the portion of the show where children are expected to explain various idiomatic expressions. The problem with this, is that I honestly had no idea what a few of them meant. The students were asked to explain the meaning of "thats a real hot potato". Then, the host turns to me and says, "Jason, is this explanation of HOT POTATO correct?" and I say "uhhhhhhhhhh I actually have no idea what that means". Once in English, and once in broken Chinese. I was also sitting next to two other judges who were probably hoping for alot more from a "professional". Honestly though, what the fuck? whens the last time you turned to your buddy and said "hey man, thats a real hot potato".

FINALLY, the contestants all get up in front of the judges and give a speech about why they LOVE english. I wanted to yell "LIAR" when I heard a particularly questionable anecdote, or perhaps "BOOOOOO" when students paused for too long, but I soon realized they were much to fragile for such fun. You write your score in marker on a piece of paper to reveal to the contestant. If its bad, their face immediately turns sour, and the tears well in the eyes, right before the dismayed shoulders slunch, and they do the walk of shame back to their podium. Get ready for a serious beating kids, I'm sorry I judged you into pain. If you happen to watch the video clip, pay close attention to how completely uninterested the judge is. "I wonder if I left the lights on in the bathroom....."

I wish I could get a televised clip of this, complete with a lower third of my face, but I honestly had no interest in watching it on television... I have trouble even looking in myself in the mirror, let alone seeing how I show up on television. I imagined they would always use the cutaways of me rolling my eyes, putting my head in my hands, or making gestures to the other judges like I was falling asleep.

Don't worry everyone, now that I am on top, I won't forget the people that helped me to make it. I'd like to thank my family, my friends, and Adrienne Ralston, who told me not to write any more depressing posts. I literally do everything she tells me.

Thanks Kibby!

Puyi, the Puppet Emperor of China: The Asian Holocaust

2010-08-05T06:43:00.001-07:00

Puyi, the puppet emperor of China
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78
The Japanese occupied a large portion of China during World War II, during a period that also included massive amounts of fun things like the killing of millions, the rape of somewhere around 100,000 women or so, biological experimentation on living victims, and general unimaginable torture. Its a biproduct of seeing the enemy as less-than-human. If you are religious, it might not be too hard to imagine. Would you rather see a catholic, a muslim, a jew, or a buddhist die? If you are nationalist, is it better to see an American or an Afghani die?are they all worth the same? Here is a fun snippet of how a Japanese military unit looked to discover treatments for frostbite:

"Prisoners were taken outside in freezing weather and left with exposed arms, periodically drenched with water until frozen solid. The arm was later amputated; the doctor would repeat the process on the victim's upper arm to the shoulder. After both arms were gone, the doctors moved on to the legs until only a head and torso remained. The victim was then used for plague and pathogens experiments."

Here is a fun image of some Chinese dudes getting buried alive

To this day, more of my nationalist students will express their disdain for Japan, which often denies that such crimes were ever committed. The rape of Nanking is still a contentious issue that strains relationships between the two countries, Japan often denying it ever happened- and certainly to a lesser extent than internationally accepted. A similar comparison would be if Germany openly denied or disputed the holocaust. As an American, I was always filled with a guilt for what we did to the civilian population of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but to many of the Chinese, it could never be enough.

Puyi was the Last emperor of the Qing dynasty, made commonly known to a foreign audience through the fim "the last emperor". The film is spoken in English, so the acting seems terribly wooden, but the content is absolutely fascinating, and surprisingly close to the truth. In Changchun, you can actually visit the palace where Puyi lived, watched closely by Japanese military officers, making sure he didn't stray too far from the will of the Emperor Hirihito. Puyi lived here with his concubines, basically serving as a powerless signer of bills; conceding increasing Japanese control of the region.

Its interesting how Puyi could perceive he actually had any real control of his nation, or that his actions were taken of his own free will. How the illusion of power, and the shows of grandeur, could delude him into confusing obedience with authority. I maintain that most of the governing bodies of the united states follow this model, financial and special interests dictating the actions of the puppet governors, senators, presidents etc... but I digress.

I could imagine walking through the halls of private movie theatres, dining halls with space for an entire band, and colossal rooms built for one, how isolated this man must have been from the world. A life alone and useless, futilely attempting to restore the grandeur of the Qing dynasty.

On a side note, how bad was that last karate kid movie? Jesus christ- what an unwatchable piece of shit.

If you happen to visit Changchun, I highly recommend the puppet palace, a reminder of how a countries history still dictates a good portion of how its citizens still think and feel. There is also an awesome KFC next door.

Somewhere Between Development and Nowhere

2010-08-04T04:34:00.001-07:00

somewhere between development and nowhere
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

There are homes here hidden in the crumbling bricks, nestled beneath the criss crossed layers of burnt and rotting wood. There are people that live in these homes, emerging from the wreckage with bowls of hot water, clothes to hang, and chores to finish before the day is done.

They are not the victims of genocide, nor to they beg or plead for assistance. They are simply poor people, in a home they have made for themselves from the rubble of development.

I was wandering through one of these areas, taking pictures and not necessarily expecting to find life-forms, when a couple of children and older gentleman accosted me for my inquisitive picture taking. They asked me the usual questions about where I was from, what I did for a living, and what money I made. I wanted to ask them so much more; how do you live like this? what is this place? is this even legal ? I wanted to evoke those pitiful responses that make a story compelling, the sad victims of some greater uncaring evil, a distortion of the truth.

These children were happy, curious, and relatively well put together. They weren't starving, and their parents lovingly laughed at their jokes about my shoes. In a way, I wonder if I am somehow intolerant by not being able to accept their contentment from living in such seemingly atrocious conditions. Why should they need an iphone to be happy?

Much of China is now like what I imagine America was during the manufacturing boons before the automotive industry began to collapse. Much more apparent than the looming hand of socialist evil, is the blind optimism that comes with the spoils of capitalism. Industry, construction, and manufacturing here are beyond anything I have ever seen. You can literally watch the new China grow like kudzu over the days of old.

In that development and newfound wealth, there are those that will remain in the shadows. Its interesting as an American to see it in China, because its not based on something as obvious as race. To the Chinese it seems like they accept it as an indication that "you just didnt study or work hard enough to get to the top".

There is welfare here, but it seems to be different. No one seems to see themselves as poor, or worse off... it seems they just recognize theres alot more work to do.

Give em the old Pill Slip!

2010-07-26T10:20:00.001-07:00

IMG_7597
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78
Ive always been a fervent supporter of having a food menu that included a section for different kinds of pills to slip into your partners drink. Ive raised this point at many of my I.C.R.M meetings (Independent Critics of Restaurant Menus), to only lukewarm finger-snaps of approval.

What better way to legally land yourself that way-out-of-your-league-I-only-agreed-to-this-meal-so-you-would-stop-stalking-me-in-front-of-the-school-I-hope-you-take-my-complete-silence-during-the-course-of-the-meal-as-a-strong-enough-signal friend, than to order yourself a heaping helping of Beijing Duck, and also telling the waiter, "she will have the roofie noodles". This could be useful in both romantic situations, as will as business deals, where important documents need to be signed, that the other party is otherwise unwilling to even consider entertaining.

Sure, the right to NOT be drugged into compliance is a fair objection, but its also the traditional way of thinking that keeps our society barefoot and pregnant. I don't actually know what that means, but I DO know, that being high heeled and pregnant is a much better indication of progress. So lets get some high heels on those pregnant ladies, right after we give them the old pill slip.

Also, I saw this pregnant lady tonight, standing completely nude in front of her window, adjusting her extremely thin curtains- exposing the glory of her natural state. Its crazy that people grow inside of women... or inside any other person. I kept looking at all these people today thinking "you came out of a vagina, I came out of a vagina, we came out of a vagina". No wonder I spend so much time trying to get back inside of them. If humans really came from a god, I just can't imagine babies would come out of the same place the pee comes out, and the wieners also go in. Don't get me wrong, vajays are grand, but- If there was really a god, I would think babies would just materialize in a poof of sparkles, with an omniscient voice booming "HERE IS YOUR BAAAABBYYYY! PLEASE DON'T PUT HIM INSIDE YOUR VAGINA!"

Gettin' Tough

2010-07-18T08:46:00.001-07:00

roids
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78
In China, you learn pretty quickly that people aren't really into half-assing shit. From repaving an entire city road with a few small shovels and a donkey, to studying until your brains seep out the sides of your exhausted pre-pubescent head. Another unsung proof of Chinese temerity, is their relentless pursuit of guns. Not like, shooting you in the face guns, but like, "if I wasn't so busy looking at my massive arms in the mirror, I would use them to beat the shit out of you" guns.

Its true, working out in China is commonly considered a frivolous luxury, and generally useless considering the exercise one gets from the lack of elevators in pretty much every building that exists here.

The people that DO dedicate their time to buffing up, are going to do so with the same competitive and relentless drive to be number one, that will eventually make Americans Chinese slaves, at least if China ever decides to collect on the money the U.S. owes it. What did we do with all that money we borrowed anyways?

Oh, and can I just say that Barack Obama is a huge pussy? His speech about the oil disaster in the gulf was about the most useless collection of words I have ever seen assembled in a "speech". I didn't vote for him to represent Americas acceptance of change, I voted for him to be something more than just another politician. Here's what I would have said:

"We are retroactively fining BP, for every gallon of oil leaked into the gulf- we also plan on exponentially raising that rate from gallon number one We are also going to put a price tag on every sea turtle that was burned alive in the "oil-burn-offs" and tack that on to the bill. Manslaughter charges will also be brought on knowing parties, for the 11 workers killed in the initial rig explosion. It is well withing our rights considering their knowing breach of multiple safety regulations. We are also aware this will essentially put BP out of business in America, but the message we are sending to potential violators of government regulation is worth it. We are also committing the same manpower, and financial resources that we committed to the Iraq war, to the situation in the gulf. At least until the problem is fixed. This oil in the gulf IS a weapon of mass destruction (I would also say "zing!"). The money from collected fines will be put towards a commission dedicated to planning a code of city transit in a manner that will prevent such a heavy dependence on the automobile, thus reducing our need for foreign oil. This also looks to benefit the lives of citizens, by creating smoother, cheaper running traffic at peak hours, and also vastly reducing automotive related accidents. Theoretically the money saved from gas, could create a buying stimulus in areas where that money has become a surplus. This will also include subways, buses, and trolleys, fueled by alternative energy. We will also be looking heavily to California, in hopes of actually introducing a working mass transit system there. Its retarded we haven't figured that out yet. Oh, and I won't be supporting all that ridiculous exploratory oil drilling that I was getting behind before this mess in the gulf. My bad. I know you guys don't want to hear this, but dependence on oil is directly correlated to your dependence on your car"

What was I talking about? Oh right. Remember to have a spotter when you lift weights. This is someone who's job is to inform you when it your erection from all the homoerotic behavior at the gym is starting to peek through your spandex shorts. Its also important to LUBE HEAVILY, especially if its your first time.

Remember, its not how much you lift, its how much you can arouse yourself by looking in the mirror afterwards.

Moth Man

2010-07-15T21:47:00.001-07:00

Moth man
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

There was a moth I thought was dead in my apartment. I went to sweep it up and it fluttered about for a few moments before coming to rest again on the linoleum. I thought it might find its way out of the open window, so I left it to lie.

I took a long walk through the north side of Changchun, and happened to come across a couple talking to a heap of blankets on an elevated stoop. I stopped to gawk, take in the image for a second before snapping my perverse shot of a dying mans misfortune. His feet were nearly bone at this point, swarmed by flies that anxiously anticipated his decay buffet. There was some old food that others had brought and placed near his head, as well as a bottle of water. I asked if he needed more food or water, and the woman gave me a look as if to say "of course he does, are you fucking retarded?". I figured I could at least give him five yuan, but he couldn't actually lift his hand to take it. I didn't really know what to do other than to place it by his head, and hope that someone could put it to use for him.

Other than members of my family, I only saw a dead man once in Savannah. He was being wheeled from the senior citizens home where he passed away, on a gurney to the awaiting hearse. The attendant hit a curb with the gurney, and the man came tumbling off the side, his blanket falling away to reveal his white lifeless face. His widow was sitting in shock on the curb, and I went over to help them lift him back up. It would have almost been comical seeing them fumble over this body, had it not been for the decimated widow. Way to ruin a joke lady. The body was cold and heavy.

This man in north Changchun was the closest to death I had ever seen a living being, and it didn't seem like it would be long before he expired. Its one of those times where you realize how quickly it can all come and go, but what to do with life in the meantime. Do you live like theres no tomorrow? or to cautiously avoid any kind of danger or threat to your precious breaths of air. Hell if I know. I kind of always just assumed the world was going to end before I hit 40, so I wouldn't really have to pay for my debauchery with years of struggling health. Things like the spill in the gulf help confirm this for me.

So, anyways, when I came home, the moth was dead.

Stop, Drop, and Burn

2010-07-05T09:32:00.001-07:00

getting lit on fire
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

After a nice long bout with tapeworm, its time to jump back on the health train. There's no better way to spring into wellness, than by engaging in a series of painful tortures that the Chinese (hilariously) dub "medicine".

This is actually only one component in a series of treatments, that also includes chiropractic cracking and acupuncture, something I have always been blindly terrified of. A few coworkers had recommended the fiery back therapy, and I was intrigued by the possibility that I may pass gas during the treatment, sending a fireball of comedy into the unsuspecting face of the doctor.

The idea is that the heat of the flames will release the tension in your back, or so I "understood", and leave one feeling refreshed and rejuvenated for the tension inducing days ahead. First, they put a towel covered with some kind of alcohol on your back, light it on fire, and tell you to shout the chinese word for PAIN when you cant stand it anymore. There is a point where you literally feel like a piece of meat on a grill, and you cry out for mercy. He then rubs some tiger balm on your crisped back before snapping you in a series of bone cracking embraces. "Hey kids, whats it time for?" its time to shove some needles in various points on your hands, knees and head- all serving to immediately alleviate some pain in another portion in your body. It was shocking how quickly prior pains vanished after the precise poking at various nerve endings.

I went with an English coworker named Tahire, who was originally born in India. There is a needle sticking out of her forehead. This is where I take a slight detour from my tale of torture and report that she and her husband recently tried to renew their contract at the school I teach. They were denied. They were good teachers, with no known complaints or criticisms from teachers or students, but one of them happens to have the skin of a Kashmiri citizen, and the other of an Indian woman. White teachers here never have this problem. It doesn't matter where you are, there will always be racist folks. Maybe not like George W Bush / Mel Gibson racist, but spiteful xenophobes all the same.

If you are looking to work at EF in China, and happen to be a minority, its something to consider.

The soreness is coming back to the shoulders now, after a brief reprieve, but oddly enough, it only became apparent after writing my last serious bit.

Thanks alot sincerity, now I have to get more needles stuck in my head.

Chinese Throwing Shartz

2010-06-28T02:41:00.001-07:00

chinese throwing shartz
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

Thats my shit on that chair.

My sweet, peanuty nectar. No photoshop needed.

This was about the only blog entry I was ever tempted to censor myself on, but you know what? This is truth right here.

So, heres the thing about living in China. At some point in your time here, your going to end up curled in a fetal position on a dirty bathroom floor, expelling some kind of poisonous liquids from, what seems like, every orifice of your body. It's not a "maybe" its a "when will it happen".

For me, it was sitting on my computer chair, googling my own name. I had, what I assumed would be, about a level 2 fart, and eagerly got ready to let fly, patiently awaiting that sweet drift of goodness to my tingling nose hairs. What I got instead, was a seat full of shit.

This raises a few questions, number one for me would be, "why were you naked on your computer chair?" good question. The answer to this is probably why I am not married, and a good indicator I should never have children. I just like being nude, man. No, really I was masturbating.

Heres the thing, do you ever wish you had the capacity to do something productive while you were masturbating? That you could actively masturbate while doing something like, recording that song you had kicking around in your head, or finishing all those screenplays you have the first 4 words written of. Goddamnit I sure do! Unfortunately, masturbating accomplishes the exact opposite, and curses me to a lifetime of mediocrity. Stupid wiener.

Oh, right, back to my shit. So it just comes squirting out in a rush of warm, and immediately made want to cry with discomfort. Instead, I went dripping shit to the bathroom, where I spent the remainder of the day.

Its what happens when you eat parts of animals you never thought edible, while also tossing insane levels of uncooked and possible tainted morsels of chinese cuisine down your gullet. The variety of flavors I have been exposed to here is worth the year on its own merits alone; BUT, your butt just isn't ready for this shit. Literally.

In case my mom reads this, I also want to let you know how much I appreciate you raising me and Mark all those years by yourself. I think about it more than you know, and could never express what that love means to me.

Love you ma!

The Falling Ball Passes Through Here Frequently, Please Walk Quickly

2010-06-18T07:32:00.001-07:00

Frightening Friends of children
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

That line is actually from a oddly worded sign at this national park in Dalian. It led me to believe that our trip through the rocky coast could become a scene from an Indiana Jones movie, at any point in the journey. Nothing could be further from the truth.

The only danger I encountered was at the sea park, where I was surrounded by furry nightmares from my youth. The best part about getting that picture, was when I started walking towards the holy trinity of camp, after patiently waiting for all the 3-6 year olds to get their pictures. The Hello Kitty started motioning "NO" with his cuddly arms, and I heard a middle aged man awkwardly say in English, "need more money". Hello Kitty was demanding I put another 5 yuan in their tip bucket. The worst was when bugs bunny, hello kitty, and ghost man, all began pointing at the tin can, and chiming in unison "more MONEY".

Hello Kitty will do anything for money... ANYTHING.

The next day, we got out of the central city of Dalian, which is actually reminiscent of San Francisco in regards to the weather, and much nicer than my current, horrible choice (Changchun) for a city in China to live in. Jishitan is a national park along the yellow sea, and boasted some of the most sweeping, scenic, sea side views (alliteration) I have ever seen in my life.

The rocks were some millions of year old, dawn of time formations, and even the people engaged in day to day activities along the coast, seemed to live a life from a different time, slowly picking through nets for the seafood that would be sold at the restaurants in the city. The fact the entrance ticket costs 70 yuan- around $10, weeds out alot of the common folk, so you often find yourself feeling as though these spots along the coast are your own private discovery. There are not many places in China you feel like you "got away from it all".

I hopped into the freezing green sea for a minute, to see if it shed any light on why it is called the yellow sea. Maybe my skin would turn yellow after a quick dip? The answer still remains a mystery. I did contribute a bit of my own yellow to the roiling waters- WINK!

Its amazing how many students I talked to, and tourists in the city, who tout the incredibly over priced and entirely uninteresting theme parks as the major attractions of Dalian. Jishitan was stunning, and entirely underpopulated by tourists. Its another interesting difference between what many Chinese people see as riveting entertainment, and my own perceptions.

The one thing we all agreed on was that the sea food was incredible, and the restaurant we went to literally allowed you to watch your dinner snap its claws for a few seconds before heading to the steamer. There was a moment of sadness, seeing our previously feisty friend turned bright orange and dead, but then I tried him. Delicious.

If you happen to be in north east china, do yourself a favor and visit Dalian.

Their Starbucks is choice.

Chinese People Are Weird About Nature

2010-06-17T17:46:00.001-07:00

Old man and the penguin
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

We went to an aquarium in Dalian, which is a coastal city along the yellow sea in China. There was a sea of young couples and parents with children, clamoring to get the best photo of themselves in front of the tanks of assorted endangered wildlife, that will never be seen by any of these people (myself included) in their natural environments.

Maybe its just me, but I always get a sinking feeling of loss, and maybe even a little guilt from seeing enclosures at zoos and aquariums. That feeling that I should be doing something more for these awesome beasts, or at least; damaging the world less. Granted, this makes me miserable company for a funfilled trip to an aquarium, but that’s where my good friend WEED comes in handy.

I honestly don’t believe the spectators at this aquarium actually saw the animals themselves. They seemed to be nothing more than backdrops, to be poked and prodded into suitable posing positions for another photo- how many coy, bashful young Chinese girl portraits can one household stand before collapsing under the unbearable weight of cheese?

There was even one area where there was no real enclosure, with a small group of sea turtles sitting huddled in the furthest corner they could find away from spectators. This seemed like a good place to hurl coins at the turtles, in hopes of hitting their heads, and incurring some kind of reaction. “That’s right honey! Try to get his eye! How CUTE!”. I was half tempted to start chucking my own coinage at the faces of patrons.

Some co-workers also took a trip to Dalian, and we met up for drinks after a grueling day of theme parks. Their trip took them on a car safari, where Lions and Bears would come up to the busses of tourists, who thought throwing empty (and full) bottles of water and bags of trash, was an appropriate way to view the great confined creatures of the wild. Bears would playfully unscrew the caps of soda and drink them, before adding the empty bottle to their beds of trash. “Look at it vomit sugar water sweety!!”. Its like, they never saw King Kong. At one point, live chickens were put on top of cars, and viewers could actually watch the lions devour their unwitting prey. I can imagine the chickens being let out from their cages and thinking “FREEDOM!.... oh shit.”

I often fantasize about a zealous picture taker falling into a tank of sharks, and being quickly devoured by an assortment of wildlife. I think they actually have a porn site dedicated to this kind of fantasy.

Seriously Chinese people. They don't have long left on the planet. At least make their last few years enjoyable.

The Great Gift of Life

2010-06-09T07:29:00.001-07:00

pinwheel xtreme games
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

I know how cliched and unimaginative that title for a post may seem, BUT ITS FUCKING TRUE YOU CYNICAL BASTARDS!

As we walked; draped in the green, sun spattered, and canopied oasis of Childrens park in Changchun- we entered a clearing with another elderly performance that fell somewhere between a musical act, and a relic of some ancient China that lives and breathes in awkward tones and rhythms I could never really appreciate. In the unexpected life on display here, I found myself instantly appreciative of MY life. There are just so many opportunities to enjoy life, if you only allow yourself the capacity to SEE that there is more on THIS earth, than is dreamt of in your philosophy (heaven notwithstanding). See the low res video here

Sure, there are problems in the world, and the rallying cry of "just enjoy your insignificant life!" may come across as condescending from a fortunate American, with very trivial consequences to my actions. Sure, a chinese student may get off the plane in America and yell "what up niggas!" to a group of unsuspecting airline workers- thanks to the wisdom I have imparted, but other than that, I live in tranquil ignorance of possible repercussions. I am an extremely lucky individual who found a job in a foreign country, for the simple truth that I am American, and not (horribly) deformed or (completely) retarded. Thanks mom!! I also have to admit I have had opportunity after opportunity that slant my worldview, because people still seem to think that educated white people are going to be hardworking- and give them jobs. Which, in fact, is probably why the economy of the states is in such shambles.

I recently had a conversation with a Chinese college student on the verge of graduation, and entrance into the fiery pits of job competion in China. That plague of worry dulled his eyes, creating some single minded focus on avoiding FAILURE. His response to my suggestion that there are opportunities for someone with an open mind, was "méi bàn fǎ"- roughly translated to "nothing I can do- no other way". I once felt something similar in college. The need to get somewhere... GOOD. To have a job that makes money, reaps a certain amount of prestige, and shoves my poor highschool grades back in the faces of educators. Occasionally sending an email that says "who's the idiot NOW!" and a picture of me swimming in a pool of money. That... kind of happened, but as it turns out: A good job, money, and security, can also be the end of an otherwise rewarding existence. It depends on what you want I suppose. To be fair, a shitty job in America that you can "get by on" has a completely disproportionate parallel in China. Its just not that easy.

I can show pictures of these places we see in China, I can write about the experiences of the new and bizarre, BUT- these things are available everywhere, in every place, for everyone. Its just a matter of shifting perspectives to see the newness of things that already exist. There is undoubtedly someone sitting next to you on the bus or train, with a story that will blow your goddamn mind. Ask them.

Who gives a shit? you are probably asking yourselves, or "did they put gay juice in his coffee this morning?", but I believe if everyone were to express a sincere curiousity and concern about one anothers existences, trading views and experiences; solutions to issues that currently plague our world, may find some simple solutions.

This is the joy that urges me to write such sappy shit; but I also hope that no matter where I am now, or where I go next, I can find that next great thing behind the dirty curtain of that dingy restaurant, in a back alley of a place they tell me is "unsuitable for human consumption".

a walking life orgasm

Fat Eating Anus Buddies

2010-06-08T17:38:00.003-07:00

My Patented Weight Loss Program
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

I can't tell you how many times people approach me on the street and say "hey Jason Fetz, what is the best method of losing weight in a hurry? and without the headache of any physical activity whatsoever?"....THATS EASY MY FRIEND!!! TRY ONE OF MY FAT EATING ANUS BUDDIES™!!

I am not much of a "scientist" and I consider myself to be somewhere around a third grade education level when it comes to the magic of science, but that didn't stop me from using my rudimentary understanding of "medicine" to create the greatest weight loss device EVER.

First, you should know that the fat inside your intestines, is a bunch of sticky, red, goo. If there was only some way to turn this fatty goo into poo... so you could just poo your problems away... Well, NOW THERE IS!!

You just swallow a handful of happy yellow creatures that I will personally deliver to your house in a greasy paper lunch bag, and watch the magic work!! First, my Anus Buddies will eat the red goo, turn your stomach into some kind of grid (again, I never technically "graduated high school") THEN, they turn that unwanted sticky goo into sweet, sweet poo. Then, its as easy as pooing yourself to health!

Anus Buddies may actually remain in your system until they have consumed all the necessary nutrients your body needs to function, but I think we can all agree, thats secondary to that killer beach body you always wanted.

Anus Buddies: Get Shitting!

The Resistance

2010-06-02T19:52:00.001-07:00

the hardest man to move
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

In china, it is known as “ding zi hu” and generally describes those who defy the government’s orders to relocate. In one extraordinary instance, it refers to a man who literally fought off construction workers with Gong Fu (the actual pronunciation of Kung Fu) and held the fort of his home until developers decided the best method of action would be to dig a 100 foot deep, city block wide trench around the residence of this one, single, hold out.

I attempted to research the details of what actually happened, and found vague, scattered recollections, that often don’t translate well from Hanzi to English. The resistor in question, apparently, said he had enough food to last him for a few months, and was prepared to wait out any further attempts to make him relocate. There are cases all over the country of such clashes, and are more common during events like the Olympics, or the ongoing Shanghai Expo. When a bunch of dingy homes need to be swept away for the eyes of an international audience… you can kiss your shanty goodbye.

Even more eye opening than how widespread this resistance is, and the dramatic standoffs that occur throughout the country, is how people I have spoken too seem to view these defenders of the home. Upon hearing these stories, I personally feel a sympathetic sense of satisfaction for someone who stood up for themselves. The affirmation of the concept that, despite any and all attempts at brokering peace, there ARE some things worth fighting for. Kenny Rogers taught me this. People I talk to seem to think these resistors, are not really defending their lives or their homes, but motivated more by personal greed- in an attempt to milk an unwarranted monetary compensation from the government. If you search pictures of Ding Zi Hu, you can come across crude graffiti on the sides of a resistors home that roughly translates to “my home or death”. I just can’t believe that level of conviction is anything more than a base desire to live a simple life, without the fear of it being upended by the unyielding force of greed.

I have personally resisted conformity in my own life through refusing to bow to societal pressures about every day freedoms. If someone says “hey, put the toilet seat down” I cry out DING ZI HU! If someone says, “stop looking through my purse for change” I stand up tall and yell “DING ZI HU!”. When someone wants to strip me of my freedom to wander the streets naked and covered in my own feces, I proudly scream to the skies “DING ZI HU!!!”

Never give up the fight for freedom my friends. NEVER.

The Scorched Earth Policy

2010-05-27T08:13:00.001-07:00

ready for development
Originally uploaded by jasonfetz78

It is 10:35 pm in China.

There is no differential from eastern or western time, because China seems to believe in one, national time, so it is 10:35pm across the entire expanse of the country.

The dirty men in hardhats are still working outside, pounding away at yet another quickly rising building. It was just heaps of dirt a month ago. This construction is an endeavor that literally continues from dusk to dawn, and if they EVER stop, I am certainly not there to hear the cessation of pounding.

Recently, the small shops and impromptu homes- that are ubiquitous throughout Changchun, have been replaced at a more fervent rate than usual, and I have been astounded at the speed in which one of these miniature neighborhoods is reduced to rubble.

There was a kindly middle aged woman who had a fruit shop around the corner from my apartment. She liked to laugh at my futile attempts to communicate, and was overly eager to assist me in naming the fruits I always forget. She was lively, and exceptionally spirited, especially for a person who appeared to live in the tattered bed at the back of a fruit stand. For a few weeks, the plot of land behind her shop had been plowed, bulldozed, and hacked to the ugly , brown and black dirt that signifies the coming of "progress". I assumed she would just have more business when that entire 8 story apartment goes up- and is occupied by tenants in a month or two (no joke), but was surprised that one day, the stand was gone, the woman was gone, and the pair of dirty shoes hanging of the side of her bed, that I could catch a glimpse of; if I was feeling that odd curiosity to understand something so completely different from what I know- was also gone. I don't know where she went. I don't know what they did to her shop, or if she has a new place to make a living from. Of course, I was compelled to imagine the best for such an effortlessly friendly woman, and couldn't imagine anyone just plowing over her life without compensation.

I then happened to catch this ongoing story about development in Beijing, and my stomach literally dropped with that sick feeling of guilt for not having known what might be going on, or maybe that feeling of impotence that I couldn't really do anything regardless. The short story is that development has been running unchecked and tearing mercilessly through the entire country of China. This is, of course, the handiwork of greedy developers with a sociopathic slant to their ruthlessness, facilitated by government officials who turn a blind eye to the looting for the great reward of Yuan. Lots and lots of Yuan.

Before I go any further, and you begin to condemn this barbaric treatment of other human beings, just remember that the economic collapse in America also reeks with the same stink of greed and corruption. This isn't the handiwork of some backwards socialist evil. Its capitalism at its finest. You build quick, sell quick, make your money, and fuck the rest. Welcome to the American way, my Chinese friends. How is that new BMW treating you?

The Government recently decided to put some limitations on the exploitation of their country men, after multiple attempts of people to do things like light themselves on fire with gasoline (one man actually recovering from wounds to find his home demolished anyways) and there are future plans to curb the development and pay people for their losses.

These rules don't exist yet, but now that developers caught wind that the party may soon end, they are now on a campaign to destroy as many lives for their own profit as they possibly can before they bow to the official rules of engagement.

One of the things that you know, by being here for awhile, is that things like "compensation for a wrongful act" or "lawsuits" just don't happen here. If its over, its over. If you were wronged, thats just tough luck. Sorry we all stood around and watched it happen, but its over now.... I have to get back to cooking dinner. I doubt that my students and other Chinese teachers even know this is happening, and that goes for the rest of the nation as well. Therefore, there will be no outcry, the development will continue, and who knows if these laws will actually come to be.

Theres just no way to really win with money. Someone gets more, another person has less. It just doesn't seem to ever work out quite right.

I am sorry, my shopkeeper friend with no fruit stand. I wish this was all different, and I hope that, somehow, the quick and merciless end of your old life, was just the beginning of a new, and better one. I would have helped....

but I fear for my own comfort.

They Killed my Friend and Fed Him to Me

2010-05-24T14:35:00.001-07:00

Pigeon Dinner, originally uploaded by jasonfetz78.

If you sit down next to a cage of pigeons, and point to the cage, this is what happens.