.png)
 |
| Bridget Kim ('19) |
During the past four weeks in Shanghai, Xi'an, and Beijing, opportunities to draw cultural comparisons have presented themselves at every turn. The food composition (dumplings, noodles, meats, and vegetables are key) and style (get ready to spin that lazy Susan around, family-style!) in these Chinese cities were expected differences, as were the clothing fashions, pollution, social cues, and currency. A lot of this preparatory information was obtained through the internet and previous travellers' tales. But as with any country, there are certain observations that are just minute enough that someone who has travelled to the country before might dismiss it in their stories; alone, these details are fairly insignificant, but stacked atop each other, they create a much more nuanced picture of general Chinese culture.
Here is an attempt to record some of those details.
Sometimes men of various countenances will stroll down the street with their shirts lifted up over their stomachs, exposing their rotund bellies to the breezes and innocent eyes. Spitting is much more common than expected; perhaps a side effect of the pollution, or perhaps a sign of bravado. Parasols pepper the parade of pedestrians on the sidewalks, a cosmetic measure taken to maintain a paler complexion. Loud bursts of public expression (positive or negative) are not often displayed, a contrast which our group of young and boisterous Kentuckians are happy to intentionally and unintentionally provide. When a couple consisting of a man and a woman are walking together, sometimes the man will not only carry the woman's purse for her, he will ROCK the bag. He will sling that thing proudly across his chest if it is a cross body bag, and he will swing it to-and-fro if it is a handbag. Buddhist beads are found on almost every wrist and taxi rearview mirror, oftentimes for the aesthetic rather than a religious purpose. Everywhere I look, signs of all kinds are displayed on the surface of giant rocks. Academic buildings, libraries, banks, historic sites, many of them are introduced by the likes of a boulder name plate. Street food has a very distinct smell and taste, and it is definitely worth trying. Western chains like McDonald's, Subway, KFC, and Pizza Hut have a large presence in the cities. Fruit vendors are around every corner. Mopeds are a popular mode of transportation. This list could continue for pages.
But that is not the true intent of this blogpost.
The real purpose of recording these few cultural discrepancies is to say that regardless of the different means and manners in this country, there are two things that have assured me that at the heart of it all, China is really not so foreign to me: children and music. If I could replay the reel of moments our group has interacted, greeting and playing and giggling, with a tiny tot, our trip to China would seem full of joy and flawless cultural exchanges. The purity of laughing with a kid who may or may not know your language is unparalleled. We have had instances of fully-fledged conversations in flawless English with children a third of our age, and we have had instances of bubbly baby Chinese babbled to us during which all we could do was make faces and grin. Both instances made me feel incredibly human and hopeful. The same feelings stem from the music I've heard here. I did not realize how much music makes my memories more meaningful until I thought about how much I missed listening to and playing music at home. Hearing snippets of American pop songs while walking down the street, listening to street performers croon love ballads with only a mic and a guitar, taking in the technique of traditional Chinese opera singers in a tea house in the Humble Administrator's Garden, these sound bites reaffirmed for me the notion that music is a universal language. I may not know what a Chinese song is actually saying, but I know what it intends to make me feel, and I am sure it will succeed. The presence of children and music on this trip have been enough to make me believe that at our core, we all want the same basic things. A kid will talk as long as you listen, a musician will play for the exact same reason. Sticking the qualifying words "Chinese" or "American" in front of "kid" or "musician" makes no difference, and this trip has helped me to understand that, Americans, Chinese, you name it, we're all just looking to be understood in some form or fashion. My realization of the need for understanding has made my China travels undeniably worthwhile.
Bridget Kim, of Morehead, Ky., is a member of the McConnell Scholar Class of 2019. She studies political science and Theatre Arts at the University of Louisville.