Categories
Life

The Paradox of Not Learning English

During my elementary school years, NATO bombed Yugoslavia. Amidst the social turmoil, some classmates initiated a boycott against learning English, which resulted in a stern reprimand from our teacher. Today, skepticism about learning English has resurfaced, louder than before.

Recently, I visited several major museums in Norrköping and noticed that many exhibits lacked English descriptions. The city library has an extensive collection in almost every language, but Swedish predominates. A mid-week trip to the neighboring IKEA in Linköping revealed not a single word in English.

Though I’ve met very few Swedes who don’t speak English at all during my half-month stay – countable on one hand – I fully understand how the locals can live well speaking only Swedish. In a city of over a hundred thousand people, the abundance of cultural and educational resources provides a basis for seeking a degree of independence.

The more open a place is, the less necessary it is to learn English. Yet, paradoxically, the most open places are the least likely to see English as a threat. This is the paradox we face.

Categories
Food

Real Food

On our last night before leaving for Sweden, we had a hot pot at the maze-like shopping mall in Tianjin, where the pork brains, tripe, and noodle show was served as usual.

Three days have passed, and I haven’t really missed the hot pot and other Chinese food. Of course, what we ate after our arrival (the hotel breakfast buffet, Vietnamese rice noodles, and IKEA meatballs) did not deviate from the eating habits we had developed over the years. But the “Japanese food” we had today made someone homesick.

We tried the bibimbap, but it’s really a salad of heated rice and salmon (or beef, if you prefer). Watching the Japanese-looking chef carefully prepare the dish, it was hard to see how it had anything to do with East Asia. On the contrary, the complimentary hot miso soup was comforting.

In fact, I think the taste of this airport fast food is quite okay, better than most so-called “light food” back home, at least is a combination of hot and cold, and not all grass or brown rice. Moderate amounts of rice, with less salty meat and vegetables, may be the inevitable trend toward balanced nutrition in Chinese food. After all, I came out with a mission to lose weight, so I was satisfied as long as the food was real, not too greasy to eat, and not all cold.

Categories
Social

Is Your City Still Trying to Please You?

August in Xi’an is even more sweltering than Beijing, with the apparent temperature dropping from 43 to 42 degrees Celsius just as the performance at the Grand Tang Dynasty Ever Bright City begins. In the midst of the scorching heat wave, a male and female performer, dressed in royal attire and wearing face masks, begin their performance of Weebles That Don’t Fall Down under the watchful eyes of the crowd…

Whether you are captivated by the scene or not, you can’t help but be moved as you continue down this bustling pedestrian street that takes you back to the Tang Dynasty. The large screens showing historical dramas, the Terracotta Army floating as if on an airplane, amateur singers on stage, and the light show that changes color with every step you take – all create an atmosphere that’s increasingly rare on Beijing’s streets, where designs to please citizens seem to be dwindling. Even during major events like the Winter Olympics, the giant screens on Wangfujing Street did not show a single game.

If only Xu Wei was playing, I’d stay another two hours, heatstroke be damned. But recalling the musical fountains at the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda and the light show on the ancient city walls, it’s clear that regardless of aesthetic tastes, Xi’an still strives to entertain its citizens and tourists alike. Meanwhile, fond memories of the fireworks that lit up the entire city of Beijing have become a distant blur.

Categories
Social

Living for Yourself: A Reflection on Individuality and Kinship

In his song “New Songs with Old Tales,” Jonathan Lee introspectively examines the father-son dynamic, candidly stating, “Two men can end up looking the same all their lives.” This observation extends beyond familial bonds, alluding to the superficial connections we often maintain with our so-called “siblings”.

In yesterday’s social media feeds, filled with sad pandemic videos, the familiar call to “unite and stand together against the outside” still prevailed. This reflects a refusal to introspect, with some choosing instead to deflect blame onto external forces despite the tragedy.

The anger in these stories is ambiguous. Is it directed at the “foreign devils,” as the characters Wei Chunfang and Wei Xiaobao describe, or is it a reflection of what Nobel laureate Svetlana Alexievich described in “Second-Hand Time” – a population ingrained with the socialist gene, identical and distinct from the rest of humanity?

Perhaps it is time to free ourselves from the duty of the “awakened dragon, eyes alight with vigilance,” to move beyond the confines of an imagined community and truly live for ourselves. This shift encourages not only personal liberation, but also the cultivation of a perspective that values introspection over outward blame, fostering a more nuanced understanding of our place in the world.

Categories
Movie

A Chinese Ghost Story: Heroism in an Erotic Dream

In the past, my impression of Hong Kong movies was largely shaped by the Phoenix Movie Channel. It seemed to play the same movie every time I turned it on, giving me a feeling akin to watching Tom and Jerry: always oscillating between humor and silliness.

I recently watched the 1987 version of A Chinese Ghost Story featuring Leslie Cheung and Joey Wong. It struck me as similar to A Chinese Odyssey. These Hong Kong films, often regarded as classics, generally have a cohesive plot, era-appropriate actors, and just the right dose of melodrama. It was only as the narratives grew more extravagant and the golden era faded that they seemed to lose their way.

In the film, a timid scholar is thrust into a whirlwind of bizarre energy due to an erotic encounter — or rather, an erotic dream. This might be what some refer to as “a grand love”. While the love story portrayed is captivating, it’s essential not to view such narratives as a model for real life. Can Ning Choi San truly make Nie Xiaoqian feel safe? It’s an intriguing question.

A quote from The Water Level of Perception reads, “I think the reason why so many people are constantly falling in and out of love, lamenting and griping about it — aside from the undeniable chemistry — is that love is a theater with minimal costs and a low ‘barrier to entry’.” I’ve always felt there was a flaw in this notion, but I couldn’t quite articulate my dissent.