Of the many mysteries that modern China, Chinese history, and Chinese culture offer up to the interested foreigner, I have puzzled out and drawn my own conclusions about very few.  My ongoing attempts to “understand” China, and my dogged determination to remain neutral in doing so, are constantly thwarted.  After nearly a year of living here, I have a lot of knowledge but very little insight.  Furthermore, however interested I may be in developing insights into Chinese individuals and society, most of the mysteries are, in some sense, none of my freakin’ business.  To cite a trivial example, if a Chinese guy (or woman, yes I’ve seen it) wants to hock a major loogey on the street, who am I to care?  Especially if the friend walking beside him, who ended up stepping in it, doesn’t give a laoshu’s ass.

But there is one phenomenon in which I am caught up almost daily, which involves me intimately, and about which I have my own strong opinions: the passionate love-hate relationship of the Chinese with foreigners, particularly Americans.

I frequently read the English language China Daily and am struck by how many articles are given an us-versus-them pitch (not unlike the articles about China in the US).  Headlines emphasize the stressed nature of the relationship with the US, the overstepping of boundaries by the US (e.g., when the US makes military pacts with Vietnam), the Pentagon's overestimation of Chinese military buildup, the meddling pressure of the US for currency reform. I never expect to find any great love of America in the state-run Chinese media.

But for the man, or especially the small child, on the street, there is nothing but love. No, not love. Worship.

When we travel to tourist sites, where other tourists, perhaps from remote areas, gather, we are inevitably involved in a few mobbing incidents.  One person, then two, then more spot our blond-haired, blue-eyed daughters and go ape shit.  Please can I have a picture?  Women are more likely to ask than men, but still I’ve seen my fair share of rational, normal looking young dudes freak out, hand a buddy a camera, and flash the peace sign (what’s up with that?) for a shot with my preschooler.  Sensing that something interesting is happening others naturally glom on and presto! flash mob.

 

Here is the part where I feign humility and explain that my daughters, while I know that they are very cute, are nothing special to most people but me.  Sometime after my first daughter was born, in a hormone haze of epic proportions, I wondered why no else gasped in awe at the sight of her.  But the hormones did wear off.  So why are the Chinese seemingly so fond of them?

I have read some editorials and message boards where Chinese people gnash their teeth and moan miserably over the worship of all things foreign.  Many of them conflate the issues of fondness for foreign products with the love of foreign people.  And the rather well-established “problem” of foreign men picking up Chinese wives while they’re here gets plenty of dander up amongst young Chinese males.

These are not mysteries to me.  Chinese people buy foreign products because for decades those products have been of a much higher quality than the stuff made for sale inside China.  Even Chinese-made products!  Any American shopping at Best Buy could purchase a better Chinese-made television than I can here in China.  Products made for export from China use parts and raw materials that are sourced outside of China, are never officially imported (and taxed) in China, and are promptly re-exported for cheap sale overseas.  They are only made here, using cheap labor.  On the other hand, products made for internal consumption by the Chinese are built entirely from locally available parts and raw materials. And they’re mostly crap. Even in 2010, in the middle of China’s economic boom.  If you think there’s a lot of Chinese crap sitting on the shelves at Walmart in the US, you should see what they sell in China!

Chinese women pursue foreign men for their money and for economic stability. Period.  I’m sure there are plenty of examples of Chinese women and foreign men making friendships that lead to more.  But I’ve seen way too many bloated, pot-bellied ignoramuses from the US score hot young chicks to believe that the young women hanging out in the expat bars are looking for Prince Charming. Nuh-uh.  No mystery here.

The alignment of needs also makes for surprisingly warm relationships in the consumer market.  Hence Buick, yes Buick, is wildly successful in China.  So you jumped on the economic reform wagon and you’re part of the burgeoning middle class in China.  Need a practical car, made in China, not too expensive, not too too shabby?  How about a Buick?  Wo ai wo de Meiguo de che! ( I love my American car!)  Didn’t see that coming.

Adam Smith and Karl Marx together would’ve spent less than 5 seconds sussing out the sources of these phenomena, but what on Earth would they have made of the flash mobs gathering around my children?  What is going on here?

Some sources hint that it is a form of racial self-hatred, a function of the seemingly global obsession with white skin.  (Skin creams in China include a whitener, not at all a new phenomena, but a very old tradition.)  Hmm, maybe.  I can’t say I understand anyone’s obsession with white skin (I have white skin in spades, hahahaha, I cracked myself up), but I’ve seen it in the West and now in the East.  And if you follow behind a horse all day plowing a field, you are not likely to have white skin, so there is a classist element to the showing-off of pearly skin tones. White skin fairly shouts, “I have money!”

Another explanation, one that appeals to my inner Pollyanna, is that white skin is simply exotic to the average Chinese person.  China has spent hundreds of years resisting contact with and influence from the outside world.  So what does an outsider now look like to a Chinese person?  Like someone from Mars.   Yes, in 2010, in the world’s fastest developing country, I am a Martian. My children are baby Martians, endlessly fascinating simply because they are different and unfamiliar.  And mind-blowingly cute.

Eleanor*

 Hazel*

*Lovely photos of my daughters stolen without permission from better photographers than me.