Hunan, China
Is it poverty – or the traces of it through upbringing by once poor parents – that causes people to grab things and not appear to consider others? Here in China there is a sometimes tedious decorum of verbal interchange to achieve the slightest thing – but see somebody opening a door or sitting next to a free chair in a busy café and the custom is to barge or pounce and not wonder if a gentler approach might be appropriate.
Perhaps, in a crowded country where family ties are fading fast the driving urge is for personal significance? Car horns are constantly used – even without obvious purpose – and give the driver of a train a chance to hit their bigger version of the noise machine and they cannot resist it. It is the same with fireworks. Although these are generally used for celebrations, if there was a revolution in China it could take days for the authorities to realize it because there is barely a moment in the day or night that loud firecracker bangs – lasting up to 20 minutes at a time – are not audible somewhere across a city.
The deluge of the senses does not stop there. Whoever called the durian “the king of fruits”? It certainly was not an European. This massive spiky football-sized nut contains an evil smelling soft thick custardy-looking core that unwraps in segments. Eating it has been variously described – but my favourite is “like consuming raspberries and custard out of a toilet bowl.”. One bite is enough, as the taste will not leave you for hours. Strangely, it is not a native plant to China and has only recently been grown in any quantity here, but the Chinese queue up in supermakets to buy it. I know the English have marmite (love it or hate it) but even adherents are never so keen to purchase it.
What these things perhaps illustrate only too well is that although some things can be passed on by parents and others; tastes, preferences – and even knowledge – are gained by a mixture of reactions and predispositions. For instance, I hated the narrow confines of classroom teaching at school – so I bunked class and sat in the library reading philosophy. My adverse reaction gave me a better education than ever teachers could achieve. By contrast, love of the durian as a fruit is instinctive and cannot be induced – however much others may try to convince you that it is not like chewing a fluffy urinal block.
A Chinese friend took me to her old University the other day. It was a pleasant surprise. Modern buildings set in parkland with a lake full of flowering lotus plants. The library was packed with students preparing for exams – rows upon rows of intent faces muttering passages to themselves as if they were from the Qur’an. I am not too old to remember my student days and cannot recall reading my lecture notes more than once. My whole aim – encouraged by tutors – was to go beyond received wisdom and achieve my own particular (although carefully reasoned) interpretations.
Here in China there seems to be no such dictum. Truth is not negotiable – but is largely handed down line by line – I guess like the local radio programmes I listen to – full of words, yet devoid of meaning. So just like in my student days – it remains necessary to do your own thing to achieve a true education. Only here it is more difficult to do that – unless you are fluent in another language (and even then all foreign texts that appear have to be officially approved). So no good asking a student here for a chat about Lady Chatterley or Lolita. I guess each book would end up just a few pages long once the censor had finished with them?
Yet all that said, I love this country, its beautiful people and wise government that works the miracle of keeping a large semblance of order across 1.4bn people. Censorship protects as well as confines and walk the streets at night and you will see why. In Europe or the USA you would feel constantly under threat of drunks, yobs, muggers or aggressive beggars – but here you can stroll past still-open shops and smile at passers-by, then look down at your watch and realize it is past midnight. Maybe freedom – to play violent computer games, watch pornography, drive aggressively or parade our drunkenness – is something we must learn to forego. Yes, and I too am happy to see lots of trashy western paintings, poetry and literature that pose as “art” consigned forever to the cultural dustbin..