Merry Christmas!

My Christmas in China was the perfect blend of eventful and relaxing. I spent the 24th and 25th in good company, but avoided everything related to holiday stress.

On Christmas Eve, I met up with my friends Breckan and Vince for lunch at Taj Mahal, a quaint little Indian restaurant with delicious food. We had lamb curry, cheese naan, and fried rice...

We then met up with our friend Ivan and went to Gulin Park for a special barbecue...

 I shared with them the very special American tradition of roasting S'Mores. They thought they were delicious, but a little too sweet...

Later that evening, I met up with some friends for some delicious, traditional Chinese food. We had fried taro, spicy sour fish with cabbage, lamb with curry, egg and mushrooms, spinach, and tofu soup. Afterward, they came over to my house for a small Christmas party... 

The New Chinese Martial Arts Revolution

Traditional Chinese martial arts are not fought on the ground. Generally, once your opponent is forced to the ground, the fight is over. However Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), a full contact combat sport that includes ground-fighting, is becoming increasingly popular in China. MMA usually takes place in a cage and consists of a combination of striking and grappling. MMA is one of the most popular fighting styles practiced in the United States. MMA can be any combination of boxing, wrestling, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, muay Thai, kickboxing, taekwondo, karate, judo, or other styles.

The grappling component is mainly based on Brazilian Jiujitsu, or BJJ, which is known as a game of "human chess" and is a Brazilian ground-fighting version of Japanese Jiujitsu. Perhaps not quite as cool as the Brazilian influenced martial art capoeira, Brazilian Jiujitsu is a ground-fighting combat sport similar to wrestling. You must take down your opponent to the ground, gain dominant positions for points, and then submit them (meaning that they give up by tapping the mat or the opponent). The main difference between BJJ and wrestling is that in wrestling you must pin your opponent's shoulders to the mat, but in BJJ, you must manipulate their body until they give up by tapping out. This can be done through a number of different submission holds, including joint locks, which cause enough pain to force the opponent to give up (like bending the arm or ankle), or choke holds, which cut off blood or air circulation to the brain. Here are some more photos of BJJ. 

Some of you may remember that I practiced a type of Kung Fu called sanda (散打) last year, a Chinese combat sport similar to kickboxing. I originally planned on continuing training for sanda when I returned to Nanjing, but gave up after the first class. So I started looking for something different to engage with the Chinese community. At the end of October, I finally found my community engagement and cultural exchange activity at a Brazilian Jiujitsu club, a mix of both foreigners and Chinese training jiujitsu, and many for the first time. Learning this sport has been an incredibly challenging and rewarding experience. I am ecstatic to be training for such an exciting, unique, and thrilling martial art. After my first training session, I was hooked, and have been engrossed in learning the ins and outs of the martial arts tradition and community ever since.

The first thing that attracted me to BJJ was that it originally kind of, sort of, in a way reminded me of rugby, in the sense that there is somewhat of a stigma of girls practicing it, and there is a significant amount of pain involved. There's really nothing else like an open tackle at full-speed or the intensity of a scrum or ruck, and it was a thrill that I missed. I needed an outlet for my stress and my frustration. I found that release at the Frontier Asia BJJ dojo, a community of like-minded people looking for a challenge and a good work-out. BJJ is nothing like rugby at all (besides the fact that both sports allow me to consistently maintain a minimum quota of bruises on my limbs), but it was the initial aspect of pushing gender boundaries and releasing frustration that first encouraged me to try it out. 

The best part about BJJ, besides a great strength workout and learning a new martial art, is Team Malevolent China, the community of people I have come to regard as good friends. There's nothing else quite like being part of a team, and a team that rolls around together trying to put the other in pain is a bond that can't be replaced with anything else (kind of like the bond of living in China together). 

Training for Brazilian Jiujitsu in China is quite interesting because the new BJJ and MMA trends in China embody the tension between the old and the new that Chinese society is experiencing. As China rapidly develops its economy, it finds itself struggling to maintain the traditional ways of life that date back thousands of years while simultaneously embracing Western traditions (like Christmas) and ideas (like consumerism and individualism). The pressure to preserve culture while embracing innovation and new ways of life is a phenomenon that can be seen in many different aspects of Chinese culture, from the food to the language, as well as my own research on urban landscape transformation. The development of traditional martial arts in China is no exception. There are some people that want to maintain strictly traditional Chinese martial arts, but the reality is that the martial arts scene is changing around the world, and MMA and ground-fighting is a new movement. Although I don't think that traditional martial arts will ever disappear completely, it's really only a matter of time before ground-fighting and MMA takes hold in China. At the same time, martial artists are using their training in traditional martial arts and adapting them to be used in the cage during MMA fights. Some say MMA will be the next Chinese martial arts revolution.

As evidenced by the considerable number of young Chinese men and women at the dojo learning BJJ (we had over 7 new Chinese students at training last week), this ground-fighting/wrestling combat sport is trending in China, and there are predictions that it will make a big impact on Chinese martial arts. Things are changing fast in China, and Westernization already has a solid grip on Chinese culture. After joining the BJJ dojo in Nanjing, I realized that martial arts is the perfect example of this predicament. Mixed Martial Arts and Brazilian Jiujitsu are the new Western influence on Chinese martial arts.

As important as it is to hold on to the past and maintain traditional values, everything is influenced by new developments from the outside, and such outside influence and new innovations can hold great benefits. In terms of Chinese martial arts, outside influences from Brazil are changing the traditional style of fighting that's been in place for a long, long time. Many would argue that China has a lot to learn from those ground-fighting Brazilians. After all, a fight doesn't necessarily end when someone is taken to the ground. It serves as a reminder that innovation, evolution, change, and outside influence isn't necessarily a bad thing, and incorporating the new doesn't mean that the old must be destroyed. It's about finding a balance between the two, and blending the benefits of tradition and innovation. Easier said than done.

It's an exciting time in the martial arts community in China and it's exciting to be a part of these rapid cultural changes. It's fascinating to witness great changes not only in urban socio-spatial patterns, but also the transformations in something as deeply embedded in the culture as traditional Chinese martial arts. 

Here is a documentary on BJJ if you're interested in learning more. Here are some pictures for your entertainment; I'm the one in the blue shirt. If the ponytail didn't already tip you off. 

Our BJJ coach, Fred, demonstrating a technique

Fred and Gennady demonstrate a move while the rest of the team watches

After Fred teaches us different submissions, escapes, and other moves, we usually have about 10-15 minutes for 3-minute rounds of grappling, also known as rolling. Here I am rolling with Huayu.

Huayu and I are on the left, Gennady and Yaakov on the  right

Sean and Huayu

Huayu and me

Rollin'

Looks like Fred has Gennady in a submission hold

Chinese word of the day:

柔术- rou2 shu4- literally, "gentle art," aka jiujitsu

The First Day of Winter

Today is the winter solstice, which is the shortest day of the year and marks the first day of winter. In China, it's known as the Dongzhi (冬至) Festival. Today started out just like any other day in Old Nanjing, and the original fabric of its urban texture was out to play. Old Nanjing-ness was flourishing on this bustling and busy winter evening. It is exciting to be a part of it.

The Old Nanjingese (老城南人) went about their day as usual and were...

 Buying vegetables from the vendors on tricycle-trucks...

Eating warm, fried vegetable dumplings...

Exercising in the park...

Staring at the foreigner wandering around and wondering why she was taking pictures of their vegetable trucks...

Selling fruit out of the back of a van...

And selling hot snacks to the kids that just got out of school.

Shanghai

I went to Shanghai a few weeks ago and, besides meeting up with some old friends, Zhu Junbo and Sean, and enjoying the gorgeous view of the skyscrapers from the Bund (the old French concession), the highlight of the trip was wandering around an old neighborhood in Huang Pu District that was somewhat reminiscent of Old Nanjing. Keep in mind that when I say old neighborhood, I do mean laocheng 老城, but I do not mean the fake old cities that the Shanghai government has constructed as a type of symbolic urban preservation to satisfy tourists and activists alike. This was a neighborhood of genuine Chinese old houses that haven't been demolished yet.

I had the opportunity to take some photographs from a high-rise hotel, which clearly demonstrate the dramatic tension in Chinese cities between the old and the new. Shanghai is no exception. Shanghai often has a reputation of being a ritzy, wealthy, and global city, which it is sin some sections, of course. But this trip stood as a reminder that every Chinese city has sections of both poor migrant workers and indigenous inhabitants (bendiren 本地人) that are under threat of demolition.

The photographs embody the intense gentrification and massive urban reconstruction that is going on in China by revealing old homes (one- to two-story homes) nestled in-between modern high-rise apartments and hotels. I loved walking around the old neighborhood, which maintains an original Chinese urban texture that really can only be found in the old neighborhoods of urban China. When I say urban texture, I mean genuine Chinese culture. Urban texture is the original cultural integrity and the way of life of the indigenous inhabitants of the neighborhood.  The quality of life, economic interests, and cultural integrity of the local residents is embodied in urban texture and threatened by demolition. My ethnography that I've been working on and will continue to work on intends to capture this urban texture that is quickly disappearing and record these societal changes in written, picture, and map form for all of my blog readers to enjoy. And I'll have to get some aerial photos of Old Nanjing somehow too.

Old houses with high-rise apartments in the background.

The gated community next door with the high-rises in the foreground and the old neighborhood in the background.

It's all about the tension between the old and the new

Why I want to spend 6 more years in school

A lot of my friends have asked me about my future career path and what I'll be doing next year when I return to the States. My dream right now is to enroll in a PhD program in geography or political science, which means I'll be spending the next 6 years in school. Most of my friends reply, "But that's such a long time!" and express their own hatred for school. They tell me that they couldn't imagine wanting to go back to school for that long.

My general response is, first, if 6 more years of schooling allows me to continue doing research in China and about China, and possibly even get a job later, then I'll be thrilled. Secondly, enrolling in a PhD program means free schooling and a modest stipend (universities fund their PhD students in exchange for Teaching Assistantships), and I really can't argue against getting paid to do research in China. These are the economic benefits of more schooling. 

My more recent experiences, such as writing my senior honors thesis, presenting my paper in Sydney, and doing research for the Fulbright has inspired me to go into academia. I believe that publishing articles has value in promoting a greater understanding of social and political problems, and I hope one day to contribute to the field. Furthermore, I want to be a teacher. It's important to spread knowledge about how political decisions affect lives. I hope one day to motivate students to be as excited as I am about geography, politics, and China. A PhD will allow these aspirations to become a possibility. I published a note on my Facebook with one of my personal statements that talks about my research and these aspirations. 

Anyway, I finally finished up all of my graduate school applications last week. Here is the final list, in order of top choice first (my final decision will in reality depend on funding):

University of Michigan-Ann Arbor (political science)

Cornell University (political science)

University of Colorado-Boulder (geography)

University of Washington-Seattle (geography)

University of Hawaii-Manoa (geography)

University of California-San Diego (international affairs)

For each school, I had to write a statement of purpose explaining why I wanted to study geography, political science, or international affairs. Although each essay was different, I compiled an essay here if you guys are interested in exactly why on earth I would want to study geopolitics (space, government, place-based identity and all that good stuff) for the next 6 years. Note: this is an excerpt from one of my essays; I did not include the full statement here.

Big Changes...I'm moving to Old Nanjing!

Today was a big day for three main reasons.

First, this morning I said goodbye to a very dear friend, Gennady, who returned to the States. As I was riding the bus home from the airport, I thought about all the goodbyes I've had to say to various people throughout my life: saying goodbye to the ten coolest girls Oakland Catholic High School will ever know the night before we all left Pittsburgh for our freshman year of college; saying goodbye to Megan on her front porch the night before she left for NYU; saying goodbye to Adam before I left for study abroad in China; saying goodbye to CIEE 同学们 when we all left China to go our separate ways; and saying goodbye to my very, very close friends and roommates (you know who you are) when I graduated from college. "It's the end of an era!" I always think to myself.

My goodbye this morning was similar in many ways to all of these other goodbyes I've experienced in the sense that the anxiety of saying goodbye is always worse than the reality. The week leading up to the goodbye is usually packed with emotions, stress, and anxiety, and usually a lot of "OMG, this is the last time we're ever going to walk down this street [or fill in the blank with a random moment]!"

Then you say goodbye, and you continue on with your life, the person slowly fading out of your life and into your past with all the rest of your memories and experiences. These people may fade into memory, and perhaps a blurry memory at best, but they still have made a deep impression on my life and who I am as a person.  It makes me think about the Buddhist principle that you are made up of a sum of all your experiences; that is, your life and self is built out of a series of interconnected memories.

When Chinese People Feel Shame

"Don't take pictures of my old, broken down store!" the shop owner of a second-hand clothing store yelled at me. When I insisted that her shop was beautiful, she squinted her eyes uncertainly at me and turned away to continue haggling a price with one of her customers. The owner, Wang Xiaohong, is a 74-year-old business owner in a jiucheng, or "old city," a neighborhood in China with narrow alleys and traditional courtyard home architecture. She has converted one of the old homes, or laofangzi as locals call the one to two story houses with tin roofs, into a thrift store overflowing with an inventory of boots, sweaters, jackets, and handbags. 

The inside (above) and outside (below) of Wang Xiaohong's humble thrift shop, which is housed in a laofangzi. 

Her attitude towards my research on urban redevelopment was at first one of both suspicion and shame. Like many of the neighborhood residents, she asked me one day, "Why are you doing research in this broken down slum? You should go to Suzhou [a famous and well-preserved traditional, ancient city in China] where the cultural preservation is admired! There is nothing to see here. You could never see such poverty and backwardness in America, could you?" I just responded by telling her that I love this unique and special jiucheng and I wish that everyone could have the opportunity I have to meet the wonderful and kind people there. 

During my Fulbright grant in a second-tier city on the Yangtze River in China, I am examining the impact of urban redevelopment on the preservation of tradition and cultural identity. Due to skyrocketing property values, business deals between the local governments and private land developers, and the popularization of private residential compounds, China is demolishing jiucheng neighborhoods and displacing the residents to the suburbs at an alarming rate. My Fulbright research in Nanjing involves field-based ethnographic research that endeavors to conclude how urban reconstruction has influenced local identity and social behavior. As I integrate myself into the daily life of this jiucheng's residents, I am conducting participant observations to record the social norms of the different generations. The generation gaps provide significant diversity within the community and reveal transformations in local identity over time.

One particularly prevalent theme in notions of local identity is shame for themselves and for their neighborhood. For example, some insist that their dialect is horrible sounding, or "hard to listen to." Some even have the idea that Americans have better inner-quality, or suzhi, than Chinese people do. One resident insisted, "Americans are more civilized than Chinese people. For example, we don't even have private toilets in this slum. We all have to go to the unhygienic public bathroom to squat." The shame of their "slum" pervades many aspects of social behavior, one being that some feel China is losing face by having a foreigner do research in such a so-called "uncivilized slum" and insist I should go somewhere else. I still think their dialect is nice to hear and their neighborhood, especially the interpersonal relationships inside it, is beautiful. 

Hou Bo and his neighbors preparing lunch in their laofangzi open courtyard. Hou Bo's grandson comes home from school everyday at 12:00 to eat lunch.

The residents are very cautious of pesticides and chemicals

 

As my research progresses, the locals have become familiar with my presence. They refer to me as their "good friend" and invite me to eat dumplings, play mahjong, or sit and chat with them. One day I said "Hello" to three people squatting by buckets of vegetables in their courtyard, and one reacted with shock, and exclaimed, "You can speak Chinese? Please sit down!" He pulled up a stool that would only be suitable for a small toddler in the United States. 

 


His name is Hou Bo and he was born and raised in this jiucheng neighborhood. We chatted about how his life has changed since the Mao Zedong era. "Before reform and opening [in 1978], we didn't have enough to eat. Now we have enough to eat, but we don't dare to eat," he told me, referring to the food scandal scares that have rocked China in recent years. He showed me how they meticulously wash each piece of vegetable and take extra precautions against ingesting dangerous chemicals that might be in the food. As we chat, Hou Bo proudly teaches me useful phrases in the local dialect.

When I asked him what he will do when his house gets demolished, he replied with, "The government will give us money to move into an apartment building." I asked him, "Then do you wish to be demolished soon or are you afraid of demolition?" He furrowed his brows and shook his head sternly, saying "I would never in all my life wish for this house to be demolished. I think living in a high-rise apartment building would be very boring. You know everybody's door is always closed there, and you can't interact with people as easily as you can here. My hope is to renovate this old house someday, but I would never want to move away. I like living here, where I was born. The interpersonal relationships with neighbors are very good here." Many of the senior citizens in the neighborhood express regret that their neighborhood will be demolished in the next couple of years.  

Hou Bo's kitchen

Hou Bo's living room/bedroom

Though the residents still find it suspicious that I have so much time to spend with them ("Shouldn't you be in class?" they ask me every time they see me), I have become good friends with many of them. Wang Xiaohong and I have become business partners of sorts, as I accompany her outside her shop a few times a week and I help her out with various tasks (she has trouble walking and she says her greatest fear is that she will end up in a wheelchair someday). She leads a simple life: "I make just enough money to eat and drink, and that's all I need. Even though I'm 74-years-old, I can't retire because I don't have a pension because I never had a work unit when I was younger. Now I have to take care of this business because I have no one to care for me. I'm so happy I've met you; now I have the daughter I've always wanted but never had." She no longer expresses shame in her shop, and every once in a while I can even detect a hint of pride when she tells me she started her business all on her own. 

These four lovely ladies get together every afternoon to play mahjong, a traditional Chinese game that is akin to Gin Rummy.

Chinese words of the day:

海口- hai3 kou3- literally, "sea mouth," aka seaport

进口- jin4 kou3- literally, "enter the mouth," aka import

出口- chu1 kou3- literally, "exit the mouth," aka export 

Can you guess which character means "mouth"?

    
This article is an excerpt from an article I submitted for the Fulbright US Student Grantee Newsletter. Names of people and places have been changed.