One Persons Cultural Oddity Is Another's Daily Life

Every culture must look odd to every other.  We all have our own ways of doing things and our own unique perspectives.  While at times odd, it is something that distinguishes one culture from another and makes the world seem a little less like Walmart. Some of the biggest contrast comes between the East and West.  Each civilization developed their own way of doing things and consequently can look quite bizarre to the other.  Of course I arrogantly speak these words from a Western perspective and the way I do things is obviously far superior putting me in a perfect position to judge.


One well known example of cultural oddity is the Harajuku girl of Japan.  Immortalized by Gwen Steffani as the perfect combination of style and cuteness.  Or there is another variety that harbors an odd proclivity to walk around in public dressed as an animal.  I have even asked my Japanese friend Shinichi about them expecting to gain insight into some kind of ancient and profound ritual only to be told by him that every society has it's weirdness.

I must admit I have never been to Japan so instead I have to work from my own base of knowledge and elaborate on a few observations from my recent trip to China where I noted several things.

China depending on where you are can seem ultra modern or still emerging from a dark Communist world.  High speed trains crisscross the land and ultra modern cities like Hong Kong, Shanghai and Bejing rise high into the sky.  It is easy to fall into a trap and think that these gateways some how represent the country as a whole, simply put they do not.  When I entered the airport in Shanghai I immediately looked for a place to change money.  I found an ATM like machine that accepted my US Dollars without incident and returned a stack of brand new RMB.  The sign beside it noted that it could do the same thing for over a dozen other currencies.  Setting aside the fact that subsequent to the transaction I realized I had accepted a stunningly dreadful exchange rate, the convenience and speed was amazing.

The real world in China is something completely different.  Changing dollars can be a bit of a hassle to put it mildly.  My friend Yaoyi and I ventured into a Chinese bank and she explained to a receptionist what I wanted to do.  We were guided over to another man who asked to see my money.  I produced a stack of dollars and what followed seemed more like some kind of trading card game then a financial transaction.  He proceeded to examine each bill with the scrupulous eye of a gem collector pricing the value of a diamond.  He was quick to pull out a clean stiff lightly colored fifty dollar bill.  He refused to accept it?  He didn't like the colors.  "But it is the newest bill we have," I responded as Yaoyi translated.  He must have noticed the date and grudgingly accepted it.  He chose another one.  "Tiny rip," he said.  Tiny, it must have been a millimeter in length!  He pulled another one -  "too old."  another bill rejected.  Reason, he just didn't like it.  Finally in exasperation I laid out ever US dollar bill I had.  I motioned for him to pick whatever he liked.  He sorted through the pile extracting one and then rejecting another.  I must say, the process is not unique to China.  Every developing nation I have ever been in was the same way.  They give you their money that looks like someone has been consistently using it to wipe their ass for the past five years and then reject ours for the slightest imperfection. 

With an acceptable stack in place I was escorted to another line where I took a seat in front of a window.  I handed over the money.  An entire process commenced Byzantine in complexity.  Red stamps, carbon copies.  Papers filed, computers checked.  Receipts provided then withdrawn and checked again.  As the process finally drew to an end I was just breathing a sigh of relief when suddenly the power switched off.  Paralysis set in.  Consultations were conducted, bank managers reviewed the transaction.  All the while, we waited.  Finally and unexpectedly we were motioned to another window where a teller once again reviewed all the papers associated with the transaction and a second manager sorted all the money (presumably to make sure I hadn't slipped in one of those objectionable bills.  Soon after an okay nod was given and the teller provide a stack of newly minted RMB.  I swear to God the manger told her, give him the perfect ones so that we can show just how dated and old America is.

With my pockets filled with cash we decided to make a journey down to the waterfront of the city of Quingdao.  Yaoyi explained to me that for many Chinese, seeing the sea was a really big thing.  The tide was out and from up on an elevated sidewalk we looked out at literally hundreds of people foraging in the rocks.  "What are they doing?"  I asked Yaoyi. 

"I have no idea." She told me.  Moments later  she consulted a workman who was sweeping the street.  The man shrugged and returned a similarly puzzled look.

Eventually we noticed them climbing up steps to the sidewalk carrying buckets loaded with sea critters of all shapes and sizes.  It appears that the hundreds of people had just scrubbed the beach clean of all life forms present that they perhaps intended to eat for dinner.  Where were these people when the Exon Valdez hit that reef and spilled oil all over Prince William Sound in Alaska?  They could have worked miracles.

The same night my friend asked me what I would like to do.  I thought for a moment and decided I would like to do something very traditionally Chinese.  "I would like to have tea," I said, thinking I would sound completely at peace with Chinese culture and society. 

We commenced our search for a tea shop and walking for blocks found only coffee houses and beer.  "What happened to the expression I wouldn't do it for all the tea in China?" I asked.

Finally we located a small coffee/tea shop and took a seat in a beautiful garden.  A man came out and presented us with a menu.  We chose a chrysanthemum tea.  When the man returned he brought a tray filled with a pot, cups and other contraptions.  I looked at Yaoyi fully expecting she would know what to do.  After all, she was Chinese.  Yaoyi looked mystified and said she had no idea.  "For God sakes Yaoyi," I said, "You are Chinese!"  We had to ask the waiter to return and give us a lesson.  He dutifully did and I became acquainted with the beautiful and sometimes sensual process of making another a cup of Chinese tea.

With my bladder filled I ventured to the restroom and commenced having one of the most surreal experiences of my life.  The toilet was the Chinese variety and until returning home and watching a Japanese animated video on You Tube I had no idea how to use it.  I didn't even know if it was permissible to pee standing up.  The Chinese toilet has a lot in common with its middle eastern cousins and using it, as an author about the significance of poop once noted, quickly conjours images of children in the third world squating to do their business.  On the other hand, the same author said it is actually a more natural position and as an added bonus you will develop thighs of steel.

Fortunately I did not have a need to test the number two position and instead did my best to stand before the porcelain God and pee. It was only then that I looked straight ahead and to my disbelief  found a picture looking back at me.  It wasn't just any picture either, it was George Costanza of Seinfeld fame posing on a lounge in his underwear.  Until that moment I thought nothing could top a store I found in Shanghai selling leather journals and discovered a radio playing Christian country music as a man at the cash register hummed along. 

One of the more pleasantly charming things about being a white man traveling in China is the interactions you have with some people who have no idea how to speak to you.  Perhaps they only know a word or two of English but they will approach you and ask if you will take a picture with them.  This occurred once to me by the ocean as a young Chinese man approached me and gave the universal picture sign.  He pointed to his girlfriend and asked if I would take a picture with them both.  Feeling like quite the celebrity I agreed.  Arm in arm we all stood with our back to the ocean and immortalized my presence in China.  Afterward I returned to Yaoyi and smiling she asked me, "You still have your camera and your money right?"

On another occasion a whole group of primary age school children started waving at me and saying, "Hello!"  Smiling I waved back.

Something I learned long ago traveling internationally is that you just can't fight it.  Whatever it is, just accept it.  Don't protest, don't complain.  Don't display indignity or cultural superiority.  Just accept it, whatever it is.  No matter what country you are in the simple fact is they have probably been doing it that way a lot longer than America has even existed.  I always tell myself, if it works for them, it will most likely work for me.