Doing the Google In China

“Isn’t China communist?  Oppressive?  Don’t they censor everything?”  This is a big question I get from people in the States about being in China.  I think it’s a totally understandable question–or set of questions, I suppose–and I wondered about it myself before I came.  Because I read in the news that Bloomberg was blocked in China.  Then the New York Times.  I read about the censors who are paid to sit around and strike down comments.  I heard about Chinese people changing sensitive words to strange homophones to avoid censorship.

I’ve been hearing the Oppressive China narrative for a long time, and before I came here I didn’t know what to believe.  And right now I’m reading this very excellent book by Evan Osnos that deals largely with issues of censorship, and it made me think that a post about this topic would be worthwhile.

Certainly I’m not expert about the inner workings of censorship, or even living the day-to-day under the censor’s watchful eyes (I use a VPN that I only turn off to watch movies on Chinese sites).  But one of the goals of this blog is to counter the Oppressive China narrative, and I think I’m in a good position to do that here.  To be very clear, I can’t talk about actual interaction with censors because I don’t post anything to the Chinese web, but I can talk about consumption of information on the internet, which I believe is something that gets misrepresented in Western media.

I remember last spring in a class on China someone asked just what was and wasn’t censored here.   What could you realistically find in a newsstand, or a bookstore, or on Google?  Could you go on Google?

I totally thought you couldn’t, but if you go to Google in China you just get rerouted to Google Hong Kong.  If you really want to find something out related to China, you should use Baidu, the Chinese equivalent, but Google works.

As far as what you can find… Pretty much anything.  If you just go on Tumblr to post pictures, talk to your friends on WeChat, watch films or TV shows (although that’s getting a little harder lately, with certain American TV shows getting yanked for being inappropriate), then you might not see the censors.  Especially as a foreigner.

But there are odd gaps here and there, and the gaps are actually quite large, and are mainly (from what I can see) focused on political issues.  For example, searching for the “Tiananmen Square Incident” will get very different results in China than other parts of the world.  Searching for certain past political scandals will show strangely mundane results.

Again, this is just about reading information, not publishing anything.  That’s an entirely different story that I know nothing about.  But let’s say you search for sensitive things.  What does show up?

Like I said, very tepid results.  You’ll still get results, but none of them will be about the sensitive parts of whatever issue you’re trying to find out about.  Also, you’ll get a message that says, “according to the laws, regulations, and policies, some search results have been omitted”.  Sort of like when you search for music torrents and Google tells you that some results have been omitted due to MCAA compliance.  I don’t do that, I’ve just read some stuff about it.

I got that result when I search Tiananmen Square Incident 1989.  An obvious target for censorship.  Also when I search Wen Jiabao, the former prime minister under Hu Jintao, and then also with Wen Jiabao + family wealth (the story being censored about his massive family wealth is the reason the NYT is blocked).

Beyond Googling things, there are also blocked website of course, like Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, etc.  China has its own equivalents like Sina Weibo (small blog), WeChat (small text), and QQ (do people still use QQ?).  These equivalents are coming under increasing censorship, causing people to flee Weibo (according the news surrounding the Big V policy late last year, where users had to register with their real names, eliminating the safety of anonymity), which used to be the most popular microblogging site.  Now, the most popular is WeChat, but it seems the government is becoming a little suspicious of that one as well.

Another odd aspect of censorship shows up when you try to find out about Chinese leaders.  For example, the Baidu bios (like Wikipedia articles) of the leaders are extremely sparse.  Contrast the length of Obama’s Wikipedia page with current Chinese president Xi Jinping’s Baidu page.

Under the “character” section of his page, there’s a lot I can’t read.  But under hobbies, it lists reading, swimming, mountain climbing, various ball sports, and martial arts.  Asked what he will spend his presidency doing, he replied, “My time will be spent working, of course.”

What a guy.

Other politicians’ bios are similarly sparse and unrevealing.  Nothing personal or telling is written on the pages I looked at, and the pages read more like resumes than actual articles.

Aside from politics, though, the Internet isn’t quite as restrained as I was led to believe from the news and rhetoric in the States.  You can find the same shows and films as you would in the States (and in fact, if I can’t find a film somewhere my last stop is usually some Chinese site, which will more likely have it).  I can’t speak to reading the news, but I know that there are some sites like Caixin that aren’t blocked that do more critical reporting than, say, China Daily.

You can blog your personal life and fill your Instagram with pictures of your breakfast.  You can talk to whoever, read books online, Google things, access Wikipedia, etc.

There are absolutely severe limitations on certain things online, and those limitations are getting worse (recently the big government thing is cleaning up the Internet and protecting people from “rumours”.  There were some posters about it around town last month, and I’ve been seeing a lot of related headline.)  I certainly don’t want to downplay that, and if this post seems very optimistic, bear in mind that I use a VPN a lot and don’t publish on the Chinese web, as I said.  But by and large the web in China isn’t quite as blacked out as I had previously thought, and I think it’s important to try to counter the Oppressive China story.

This post is aimed at people like myself, this time last year.  I think it’s hard to know the basic, everyday workings of something if you’re not there to experience it yourself, so if there’s anyone out there who just doesn’t know what the Internet in China looks like, I hope this sheds light on a small part of it.

 

Running Towards the Mountains

My favorite thing to do last spring was go running in the evening–half an hour out into northern Chicago, half an hour back home–listening to Sinica, which I had at the time recently discovered.  I went through every episode in the archives that I found interesting while running last year.  The podcast is recorded in Beijing, so when the hosts said “here”, that’s the place they referred to.  I imagined the time when my “here” and their “here” would be the same.

Recently I started running in the evening with a friend of mine here because I love running and she wanted someone to keep her motivated to run.  Tonight, I went running by myself, and I listened to Sinica.  I was actually listening to an old episode, but it was from when I was in Beijing last semester, so I remembered hearing about the events they talked about while I was here, having some personal connection to the podcast that I didn’t use to have.  I ran longer than it lasted, and finished up a recent one about American football.  I made a mental note of the teams because my Chinese teachers really want to see an American football game, so I’ll be able to tell them about it in class. Another personal connection I didn’t have before.

But probably the best part of my run was the scenery.  Today started out gray and chilly, especially compared to yesterday’s near-90 degree weather.  By 5:00 when I got out of class, the sky was blue with a few small clouds, and the mountains were sharp against the beginnings of the sunset.  I ran towards the mountains, towards Zhongguancun.  I ran past a bunch of the small technical universities and into Zhongguancun proper, the tech neighborhood of Beijing.  The architecture there is sort of interesting, all curved glass, intended to look high-tech but in my opinion a little characterless.  There was a giant electronic billboard playing, alternately, the new X-Men trailer and a slideshow of the red and white Chinese Dream posters all over the city that say things like “Chinese dream, my dream” or “If you have a nation, you have a family”.

I ran down a small hill, out Zhongguancun, closer to the mountains, and turned right on Yiheyuan Road, which leads to the Summer Palace.  I’d never been to that area, and on one side of the street was a brightly lit embankment of shops and restaurants.  On the other, the high walls of Beijing University.  I was afraid I had taken the wrong road, since I know Yiheyuan Road eventually curves away from where I live, ending at the mountains.  I fixated on the mountains.  New York is hilly, but not mountainous where I live, and Chicago is dismayingly flat.

I kept running, nevertheless, even though the sidewalk narrowed to barely more than the width of me and was stuck through with trees at two foot intervals.  Eventually, I crossed a canal–the one that runs through campus that I’ve always wondered about–and recognized the road where the Yuanmingyuan subway stop was located.  I turned east and ran along the canal.

The thing that made me start really paying attention to the scenery more than I ordinarily would was the fact that I was running along a canal that led into the formal imperial gardens where I went to school every day.

Once, when I was younger, I went to Israel with my family, and my dad asked me a few years later if I hadn’t been awed by the history, by walking around on so much lived experience, accumulated in the ancient walls and streets and buildings.  I said that it hadn’t really registered. I felt removed from the awe of it.

I don’t know what was different tonight.  Maybe because I’ve more carefully studied Chinese history, because it has so much immediate bearing on my life.  Maybe because I go further and further back into Chinese history to better understand China now and to give my research depth and relevance.  But tonight was an echo of what my dad felt in Israel–I was running on Chinese imperial land, the Summer Palace at my back, Beijing University to my south, and Tsinghua to the east.

It was especially striking given that I had just come from the tech epicenter.  I hesitate to talk about the tired contrast of “ancient versus modern China”, because a) that’s a tired cliché and b) that’s not even the point.  But maybe because the podcast I was listening to was about Chinese history, it was really meaningful to be running around in a place that does have such a long history.  From dynastic rule to the fall of an empire and the founding of a republic (and my university), to socialism felt in the architectural legacy of bland soviet buildings, to Zhongguancun.  Without essentializing China, without playing into the “5,000 years of history” claim, that really is a lot.  It really is awe inspiring.

And doing something in Beijing that I made into a well-loved habit in Chicago was very meaningful.  It’s hard to forget that I’ve come really far from a freshman who was sort of interested in China and didn’t know shit to someone who actually can hold conversations with people with some confidence (well… not always, of course).  It’s hard to forget that this is a really amazing opportunity, being able to go running at night in Beijing and watch the full moon rising from the heart of the city up over Haidian where I live.

For a while I was living here but not really doing much reading about China.  Lately I’ve started listening to Sinica again, and I’m seriously engaging in research again.  I’m getting back into good old habits of constantly trying to learn more about China, and not taking the need to read and study for granted just because I’m in China.

This doesn’t really have a culminating conclusion and I don’t have any insights or resolutions.  So I guess I’ll just say, it’s good to be here.

 

 

——–

 

Also I think I will be slightly changing the format of this blog to include more text-only posts like this that don’t necessarily have much of a point because this is actually a personal blog and I think I’ve accidentally been treating it as a scholarly blog, which I shouldn’t because I’m in no position to write a scholarly blog about China.  So with barely a month left… expect some changes, and many more posts.

Land of Smog: The Bleak Present and the Potential for Alternative Modernity

I’ve been thinking a lot about this movie I saw recently called Land of Hope.  It’s a Japanese film about people dealing with the aftermath of a Fukushima-like natural and nuclear disaster.

I’ve been thinking about it because when I’m not thinking/reading about China, I spend a lot of time reading about Fukushima, nuclear power, nuclear non-proliferation, etc., usually in Japan.  But actually I’ve been thinking about how the film relates to China.

I’ve only been here a month, and in the cleanest season of the year in terms of air pollution.  But already I have a new understanding of what living in a polluted city means.  Before I got here I heard a lot about the air pollution problem, and in January I saw all those pictures of… well, not much.  There was so much smog you literally couldn’t see a thing.

It hasn’t been that bad (yet), but we’ve had strings of hazardous days here and there that have been, if not debilitating, really fucking nasty.  It’s never good when you go outside to buy water (because you also can’t drink the tap water here!) and you come back with an acrid taste in the back of your mouth…

But the reason this makes me think of that movie.  The wife half of a young couple who was expecting a baby got really paranoid about radiation exposure.  Like full-body-suit paranoid.  She bubble-wrapped their apartment, made her husband wear a gas mask, and carried Geiger counters around everywhere.  Her husband got increasingly worried since her mental health was noticeably deteriorating, and so they moved a few towns over.

tumblr_mtmq1c8cs71qgtgd6o1_500

As they’re driving away from their old town, the woman opens the window of the car and, after a moment of hesitation, takes off her Hazmat suit.  Cut to the near future, and she and her husband are mask- and suit-free on the beach in their new town.  As they’re sitting there, the wife is talking to another young mother while the husband sits a bit further apart, so he’s the only one who notices when the Geiger counter starts clicking like mad.  He stares at it for a little while, stares at his wife, and silently reaches this fever pitch of panic (I don’t know who the actor is, but man, this was a masterful moment) before he calms down suddenly.  His wife beckons, he puts the Geiger counter down, and joins her without saying a word.

Okay, so after all of that… I’ve been thinking about the film in relation to China because the final scene in Land of Hope is about making peace with your surroundings even though your surroundings are going to kill you, probably.  It’s about making a good life with what you can.  You can lose your mind over the dangers you have to face everyday, or you can accept a shitty situation for what it is and try to have a fulfilled existence regardless.  Which is, I guess, what 20 million people try to do, more or less consciously, in Beijing and around China every day.

DSC_0014

Still, I struggle to accept this because it’s so fatalist.  On the one hand, you really will make yourself sick, mentally if not physically, over constant worry.  On the other… poisonous air is not something you should ever have to accommodate, particularly if you live in Beijing full-time/have children/have asthma or something.  So there’s a fine line between accommodating something awful just to have a peaceable existence and getting upset over something that you really shouldn’t have to deal with.

In the context of Beijing, people are remarkably good at coping: how bad is the air pollution, really?  Because I see the US Embassy’s Twitter feed giving “hazardous” readings every hour for days, but then I go outside and there are maybe 3 people with masks and a whole bunch of people just chilling in parks and on campus, having lunch outside, walking around…  It might even lead you to ask how bad is the air pollution, really?

I think it should be obvious that the answer is “It’s really fucking bad.”  From an article I have cited, at this point, god knows how many times:

“Research suggests that air pollution can raise the risk of cardio-respiratory death by 2 to 3 percent for every increase of 10 micrograms per cubic meter of pollutants. Only 1 percent of China’s 560 million urban residents breathe air considered safe by European Union, according to a 2007 World Bank Study.  A report released by China’s Ministry of Environmental Protection in November 2010 showed that about one-third of 113 cities failed to meet national air standards…  In Beijing, the number of lung cancer patients has increased by 60 percent in the last ten years. The rising incidence rate of lung cancer coincides with drastic reduction in the incidence rates of stomach cancer and cervical cancer, which is thought to be a result of improvements in public health standards.”

Further, in 2010 alone air pollution was linked to 1.2 million premature deaths in China and was ranked fourth on a list of things that are most likely to kill you.  Overall, air pollution has been found to significantly shorten lifespans in northern China across all age groups.

It’s not just China, to be clear.  India, also, suffers really bad air pollution (although not where my girlfriend is, because she’s in the Himalayas where the air is ultra clean and I am supremely jealous every single day.)  And of course, when London and New York were industrializing the smog reached deadly levels (also, that’s why New Yorkers notoriously wear black–you can’t see soot on black clothing).  Not that that excuses China, exactly, but it’s not like this is an isolated phenomenon, and I definitely don’t want to point at China as this environmental disaster without acknowledging that the West started it (and continued it… and encouraged it in other countries… and now complains about it).

Why, though, is the air so bad?  China’s economy is the second largest in the world and “slow” economic growth rates for China are something most countries can only dream of attaining.  Why can’t they get their shit together and make the air breathable?

The main reason is coal.  China is the world’s largest energy consumer, most of which is supplied by coal.  (China is also the world’s largest producer and consumer of coal.)  Coal is highly polluting, of course, but the situation gets worse when you look at how coal is used: primarily for heat and power.  When you consider how cold some of the northern provinces get, combined with rapid industrial growth that demands a lot of power, it becomes clearer why coal is such a problem.  And that’s not even getting into how air pollution is tied to buildings, which is what I spent some time researching last year.

DSC_0058

First of all, there’s a ton of construction going on, for better or worse, all the time (which also contributes to pollution, because dust). Entire neighborhoods are razed and rebuilt and taller and taller skyscrapers are being built every day.  So the construction consumes a lot of energy, to be sure.  China’s building sector accounts for 30% of the country’s energy consumption*.  The problems, of course, don’t stop when the buildings are completed.  Air conditioning and heating units consume more than half of the average building’s energy supply,** since it gets unbearably hot and cold in Beijing, that leads to huge energy demands.  Thus there is a strong link between urbanization and energy consumption, which does not bode well for China’s air since urbanization keeps increasing (although Premier Li and co. seem to be looking to slow its roll (maybe?)).

Although China does a tremendous amount of work on developing renewable energy and other environmentally friendly initiatives, “The Chinese government has for years maintained a policy of free coal for boilers to generate winter heating north of the river, which runs parallel to and between the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers.  That policy and the ubiquity of northern coal-fired factories have contributed to the vast gap between the coal pollutants emitted in north and south.” [x]

So that’s a problem.  That, and the press for urbanization and industrialization.  It’s therefore perfectly understandable why China has such bad air pollution–particularly Beijing, which is large, perpetually under construction, and also in the north.  Talk about a fatal combination…

But even considering all that, I have a lot of hope for China.  Even though the view out my window is hella depressing right now (and today the air is “moderate”!), the long-term view of energy consumption in China is pretty promising.  First of all, the huge investments into renewable energy that I mentioned.  Will it all be effective?  Probably not.  Is it more than the US is doing?  Yeah, yeah it is.

Second of all, green building is totally taking off here.  (Disclaimer: I’m going to ignore the work of foreign architects here.)  Most, if not all, contemporary Chinese architects from Pritzker winners to my professors at Tsinghua place a heavy emphasis on building environmentally sustainable buildings that actually have a respectable lifespan and consume far less energy than the average building today.  To be sure, there are a lot of problems with the execution of green buildings (for example, Tsinghua’s much-lauded environmental science building, which is supposed to be solar-powered and self-regulating has some pretty serious problems), but efforts are being made.  That’s nothing to sneer at.

Third of all, people may be coping oddly well with the disgusting air, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t fighting to change it.  Cao Jing, an economics professor at Tsinghua and World Bank consultant, is doing really interesting work in promoting a carbon tax and technology innovation in power plants.  The government also recently announced a plan to curb coal use, particularly around Beijing, and to regulate heavily polluting vehicles.

DSC_0025

And this isn’t just good news for China.  I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about “alternative modernity” lately since the term came up in an architecture lecture a few weeks ago.  Basically: modernization is very often used synonymously with westernization.  As a result, when we talk about “development” we tend to talk about it like a linear process, like there are countries who are as yet “undeveloped” or “developing” because they don’t meet western standards.  It’s assumed that a developed country should be an industrialized one, and should be a fully engaged member of the global economy, participating in international trade and free trade agreements, etc.

This conception of development often means that a country is going to be heavily polluting in the early years of its “modernization” as Japan, England, and the US were, and as China and India are today.  “Developing” countries often have to rush to “catch up” with the rest of the world, which naturally leads to environmental degradation as rapid industrialization/urbanization = sloppy industrialization/urbanization.

The Environmental Kuznets Curve illustrates this.

ekc

As income rises, so does pollution.  So far, China follows this curve.  Then, according to the curve, income continues to rise, but pollution drops as people become more educated and start demanding a better environment, as technology develops and becomes cleaner, etc.  There’s a lot of logic to this, and it does seem that the “””developed””” countries of the world have followed this curve so far.

But it assumes a lot, at the same time.  First of all, it assumes that a country will be able to save its environment after a certain point when it’s entirely possible that you’ll end up doing more damage than can easily be undone.  Second of all, it assumes that environmental damage has to be done at all, which is where alternative modernity comes in.

I don’t think it should be taken as read that modernization = environmental degradation, or following in the West’s footsteps in terms of consumption and waste production.  (Actually I don’t necessarily think modernization needs to mean industrialization at all, but this is largely a lost cause at this point.)  As such, I think it’s incredibly valuable that China is investing so much lately in environmental protection because it provides a constructive example of sustainable development for other “””developing””” countries.

For all the talk about the fragility of China’s power, China is a fairly strong country  carries weight in the world (and especially in the region).  China has the unique ability to provide an alternative example of “””development””” from what the West has to offer.  Rather than development meaning severe pollution and a growing dependence on automobiles, development can mean clean production, better cities, more environmentally friendly modes of transportation, and renewable energy.

China’s track record on all of these things has certainly been less than stellar, but it’s not too late to turn things around and start perpetuating some constructive, alternative modernities for the rest of the world to learn from–and maybe turn the idea of who we consider “””developed””” and “””developing””” countries on its head.

*Li, Baizhan and Runming Yao.  “Urbanisation and its impact on building energy consumption and efficiency in China”.  Renewable Energy 34 (2009): 1995.

**Ruili Hou,  “Building Energy-Frugal Homes”, China Today, September, 2010.

PM 2.5

The difference between “good” and “hazardous”.

DSC_0003

DSC_0026

 

And actually, at 6 am when I looked out the window, everything was white.  I couldn’t even see that stupid Liaoning Hotel.

The Gulou Area

DSC_0024

A few nights ago I went to a movie at Dada in the Gulou area near the Drum Bell Tower north of the Forbidden City.  It looked like a nice area so a few of us trekked back out there this weekend on a particularly lovely and pollution-free day.

DSC_0039

 

We spent most of the time walking down Gulou Dongdajie and stopping into the little shops and hutongs along the way.

DSC_0007

 

On the scale of trendy neighborhoods with Sanlitun at the top and Haidian somewhere in the lower tier, Gulou seems solidly in the middle.  It doesn’t have designer brands or skyscrapers, but it’s got a lot of little shops like you would find in Chelsea or the Lower East Side in Manhattan.

DSC_0014

 

And coffee!  We go out for coffee in the morning a lot, but nothing comes quite close enough to the good stuff you can get at home.  Except for the place above.  26 yuan is kind of steep for a latte, but it was the best coffee I’ve had in weeks.

DSC_0034

 

We ended up going down this one network of alleyways that was filled with small food stands (and other things I guess, but I really only look at food…) selling Chinese, Tibetan, American, and Mexican (churros!) food.

DSC_0023

 

There were people blowing up molasses into the shape of different animals, people selling the same headbands everywhere (new trend?), and boutique clothing.

DSC_0033

 

What was most interesting, I thought, was the the juxtaposition of old and new, which is, to me, the general theme of Beijing.  I saw a Starbucks, for example, inside a traditional-looking building (either very recently restored or straight-up fake, which is entirely possible since there was a short-lived architectural movement in Beijing somewhat recently of constructing buildings in ancient styles to make the city look more “Chinese”).

DSC_0028

 

So as a result, sometimes you have new shops in old-looking buildings.

DSC_0036

 

I find that architectural movement kind of disappointing since it closes the door on the development of a contemporary Chinese architectural style and instead recycles the same images over and over.  But I do like these neighborhoods better than the ones dominated by skyscrapers designed by foreigners who often treat Chinese cities like playgrounds.

In any case, I love the Gulou area and plan on going back very often.  Loveliness aside, it’s the only place I’ve seen Crazy Fries, and I want to get on that.

DSC_0013

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DSC_0037DSC_0047

 

The Apartment in Haidian

The Chinese subways stop running very early.

Think: 11 pm.

Now you know.

More importantly, now I know.  I found out the hard way when I went to a movie at this bar last night (The Hole, by Tsai Ming-Liang, part of Dada’s Monday movie screenings).  It took just a short cab ride back, but still… I’m disappointed.  Hopefully when the subway system expands it will start running later.

DSC_0101

(The view from the kitchen.)

In other news, we’ve been in Beijing for a week, and in this apartment for a few days.  We’re settling in well, I think.

My roommates and I have been visiting different cafes every day working our way from our apartment to Tsinghua’s campus.  DSC_0028

We even found one on campus hidden away in the residential area.

DSC_0029

I’ve also been to the same jiānbiĭng place three days in a row showing it to various people in our group.

DSC_0012

The people who work there recognize me and one of my roommates now…

DSC_0040

DSC_0041

 

(Megan enjoying a jiānbĭng)

But before I get sidetracked by the food…

We’re in a really nice apartment very close to campus in a neighborhood called Haidian.  Haidian is in the way northeast of Beijing.

Screen shot 2013-09-11 at 9.27.22 AM

For some reason, cities in China tend to cluster types of land use together, so all the universities will be in one place, all the government buildings in another, all the industry in another still, and then neighborhoods that are solely residential.  Our part of the city is in the university cluster.

By now, Beijing has grown up a little more organically, so clustered land use isn’t a huge problem, but it’s still not a healthy mindset to be in when planning a city.  If you have entirely residential areas, for example, people are going to have to commute, sometimes a long way, to get to work or school or to go out at night.

Similarly, you wouldn’t have a very exciting social life if you lived on campus and didn’t leave your neighborhood because most of the nightlife in Beijing seems to happen in Chaoyang, which is across the city.

But enough about urban planning…

DSC_0020

So we live in the university cluster in a building compound surrounded by local people with a few foreigners mixed in.  Everyone’s bikes are locked up outside…

DSC_0022

Everyone bikes here.

DSC_0023

Including me, on my little Tsinghua Flying Pigeon.

DSC_0021

The apartment really is nice, although there are some interesting differences.  I don’t have a picture, but in one of the bathrooms there’s a typical Chinese shower that has a water tank and showerhead attached to the wall right where the toilet and sink are.  It takes finesse to take a shower without soaking everything in the bathroom in the process…

The other main difference is the kitchen.

DSC_0100

There’s no oven!  There’s a wok, a frying pan, a microwave, a stove… and that’s it.  Which is fine, I guess, because if you’re cooking Chinese food the only thing you should need is a wok and a frying pan, but forget about baking.  Luckily (maybe?) we live around a ton of bakeries.

Luckily we’re here in 2013 and not 1983 because a) we’d be staying in dorms, and b) if we did have our own accommodations you can bet there would be no kitchen at all.  A lot of homes were built without kitchens because you were expected to eat in the communal dining hall with everyone else.  Cooking for yourself was actually forbidden for a long time during the Mao era.

So… progress!

And with that, I’ll leave you with a picture of where I go to school and sign off!

DSC_0097