Chinese Work Visa 101: English Instructor Edition

I just got my Chinese work visa two days ago. It was one hell of a ride getting it – I had to apply twice and had to go back to Canada for it, and in between I had to travel to HK and was afraid for 2 weeks that I’d get deported / get an international criminal record.

After finishing my MA last September, I decided that I would like to go back to China for a while, and since my Chinese isn’t really up to par for most jobs, I could only teach English. I don’t necessarily agree that everyone in the world should speak English, and sometimes this makes me feel slightly conflicted, but I try to reassure myself that it’s cultural exchange and at least I know more about Chinese culture than the average English teacher going there (I hope).

It’s usually pretty easy for Westerners to get a foreign English teaching job, but it’s a lot harder for non-Whites. During my MA, when I was looking for work, I got many emails saying that I couldn’t be hired. Even after my TESOL course it was the same thing. In the end, a local TCM (traditional Chinese medicine) college took me on for a half year contract (I suspect due to work connections my mother has), and then a sister school of one school who rejected my application decided to take me for the next academic year.

I had gone to China on a tourist visa, being told that I can do a port re-entry after getting work and applying for a work visa. I was accompanying my mother, who relocated back to China to work, so I got a resident permit as an accompanying family member for the city we were living in (Nanning). This required a repeat of the physical examination checks I did a couple of months before, since the Chinese authorities doesn’t trust foreign medical reports and apparently even different cities would not recognize medical records from other cities. Since the college I was working for put me on a 6-month contract, they told me that I could choose to apply for a slightly less complex version of a work permit that doesn’t require a work visa and a re-entry. So, I went with this, after getting all the documents together. By the time everything got submitted it was the middle of the term, and then I never heard back from the college office who was doing this for me.

Then I found a job for the next academic year. This was a bigger university with a more organized system for hiring foreign teachers, so after submitting my documents I got letters in the mail with which I could apply for a work visa. I had to apply for a work visa even though my residence permit hadn’t expired, because I would be in another city and the permit only covers me for the city I was in at the time. Since I was already in China and a plane ticket back to Canada would cost me a month’s salary or more, I decided to go to Hong Kong (Even though Hong Kong is a part of China, it’s an SAR – Special Administrative Region – and its currency, political system, etc are not under PRC direction. That means there is also a consulate of China in Hong Kong).

Before I left, I noticed that one of the letters was addressed to the Chinese Consulate in Canada, and also noticed that there was a number required on the Supplementary Application Form. I emailed the staff members at the University about this a couple of days before I was planning on going to HK, and because he was on holiday already, I didn’t receive a reply. On the day of my departure I was desperate and sent him a text message, but since I thought that the number was more important than the addressee, I only asked about the number. I was told that the number wasn’t important, so off to HK I went.

Nanning, the city I was living in, is sort of a backwater place, and there were no trains from it to Hong Kong. I had to take an overnight train to Guangzhou and then change to either another train or a bus, and I opted for the bus because it was slightly cheaper. When I got to Guangzhou, I realized that the women who sold me the ticket in Nanning told me the wrong destination terminal in Guangzhou, so I had to take the public transit for a lot longer to get to the hotel where the HK bus left from. This worried me because I didn’t look up how to take the transit from the station I was actually in, and I needed to get to the Consulate in HK by the afternoon, and I was told that some residents of Guangzhou would tell you wrong directions on purpose. Luckily it wasn’t too complicated and I boarded the long-distance bus.

The bus had to stop at the customs between China and HK, and the lineup was huge. After that, we changed to another bus waiting on the other side of the border operated by the same company. This bus took us to the Mong Kok area in Kowloon, which was easy for me to take the subway onto Hong Kong Island, where the consulate was. The lineup outside the consulate was also huge – it nearly went around the block. We had to go through an airport-grade security inspection and leave all food and drinks outside. Thankfully, there were something like 10 service windows in the actual visa office, so things went quite well. I fudged a local Hong Kong address because I hadn’t yet booked a hotel.

Everything seemed okay until I got to the service window – but there I was told that since the letter was addressed to Canada, I had to go back to Canada. I did not foresee this because the actual location of my application doesn’t actually matter, and there was another document that instructed me to apply at my nearest consulate. But no, there was no leeway on that rule. I was extremely upset by this because I had a part-time job pushed back specifically for this trip and Hong Kong wasn’t somewhere I really wanted to go for pleasure, and on top of that I was tired from an 18-hour trip.

I tried one last shot at applying in Hong Kong by changing the addressee on the letter to HK instead of Canada, but then I asked the staff member at the office and they said it had to be an original. So I miserably left the visa office and went back to Kowloon to find a place to live – I didn’t have time to take a bus back to Guangzhou to catch the only remaining train back to Nanning. I ended up going to Chunking Mansions, which was a slightly seedy apartment complex/mall area, but I got a small private room for $90 HKD, which was decent. There was a cockroach on the ground, but I could deal with that. However, the University I would be going to work at is located in Chongqing (cantonese = Chungking), so I felt like the city was rubbing in the fact that I couldn’t get a visa for that. I would read “Chongqing” on packages and on ads for the next month and feel depressed every time.

Anyway, so the next day, after visiting the site of Kowloon Walled City, I went back to Nanning. I decided to try buying a seat ticket (I went to HK on a berth ticket with a bunk), which was a really bad idea because in the seat wagons the light is on the whole night, and I couldn’t sleep for most of the ride. After I got back, I asked the University to send me another letter addressed to HK, and they said it could be done but I needed to send the letter I had first. Apparently it was a government document and it had to return to government possession. I had no idea about this and had to fish it out of the recycling pile.

A few days later I got a call from the University asking me why I tried to change the addressee to Hong Kong, and that the Foreign Affairs Office (FAO), who issued me this letter, was extremely angry at me for doing so, and that I had to send everything back to them for them to re=process my application. The staff member who I had been in contact with told me that changing government documents like this was like forgery. I started getting worried about this because 1) it was already almost and I was running out of time to make another visa application trip, and 2) I didn’t know how serious my offence against the FAO and whether it would count as a criminal act. After being on tenterhooks for two weeks, I got another call saying that the FAO finished reprocessing everything but that I would have to go back to Canada, because other foreign teachers who went to HK had their applications rejected.

I began getting paranoid on something else – I had been reading forum postings on the Internet about China tightening up on its immigration laws, and began to be afraid that I hadn’t been working legally in China and that this might affect my next application. Since I have never seen this document that the college applied for, I did not know what it allowed me to do and what was outside its scope. At the best, it didn’t matter; medium-worst, the Consulate wouldn’t approve of my next visa application; worst, the Consulate would decide that I’d dome something really bad that it never lets me return to China again. So I called the college and they said that the province issued me a working document but they never picked it up – this is probably my fault, because after I told them that I would get another job, I said I probably won’t need the documents they applied for. But after another day they sent someone to the government to get it, and it looked like, provincially at least, I was working legally. The University and the Canadian side responsible for some of its operations assured me that I wasn’t doing anything illegal.

So I madly tried to find a short notice ticket back to Vancouver, and thankfully the university would cover my cost for this, at least sort of – it’s in my contract that they will pay for one return ticket between Canada and China, but this means that my return to Canada after the job is over wouldn’t be covered anymore. I left for Vancouver last weekend and got there on Saturday. On Monday I went to the Consulate to hand in my application, and was told that I had two problems with my documents. One was that one letter issued by the FAO looked like a fax. This was sort of stupid, as there seemed to be no way I could prove that it wasn’t a fax. After arguing with the girl for a while she shrugged and said that I could submit it but there was no guarantee that I would get my visa on time. The second was that the repeat physical exam I did upon my arrival in China was from December of last year and so it was no longer valid, and I had to get another one.

This second point was troubling because I planned to stay in Vancouver for a week. The girl at the Consulate told me that I should go to a hospital and do the exam in one day, which is how the Chinese system would work, but with the Canadian health care system, it’s pretty hard to get a physical exam done in 3 days. I was really starting to think that I couldn’t pull through this, especially because I moved back to Vancouver from Ontario a year ago, and didn’t apply for a BC health card because the Ontario one covered me for the length of time I would stay in BC until I left for China. I went to the Vancouver General Hospital for help and they directed me to ask the BC health care, who asked me to ask Ontario, who didn’t pick up. VGH gave me a few clinics close by and I went to try my luck there.

The clinic called Ontario first, and apparently Ontario has a rule that its residents can be covered for 12 months, so I was almost out of that time range but not yet. The doctor who saw me, luckily, had the same issue with another teacher who needed a physical done for a Chinese visa application, and even knew where to download the form that the Consulate requires. Also, she put “not applicable” on many of the sections on the form that would require me to be sent to a lab, such as an ECG. After that, off I went the next day to apply for the visa again.

At least this time the girl (another girl) didn’t tell me she thought that the letter was a fax, and accepted the application. I left feeling a lot more hopeful, though I was still paranoid that someone else who processed the application would think that the letter was a fax or frown on the list of “not applicables” on the medical form. While waiting to pick up the visa the morning after, I was so stressed that I had to jog on the spot in the lineup to avoid going crazy. But my turn came and I managed to get the visa, and I noticed that they cancelled my resident permit.

But that’s over, finally. I celebrated by posting everything I’d translated for Baccano! volume 8/9, which I’d been working on on my trip to HK and on the flight to Vancouver. From now on, I have to fly back to Nanning via 2 transfers, and then try to find a train ticket to Chongqing in 3 days amidst the back-to-school rush and start working a week after that, all on a wonderful 15 hour time zone difference….

If I can’t say that I’ve written a novel, at least I can say I’ve translated one

I posted the remaining chapters of Baccano! volume 8/9 (depending on how you number them) onto Baka-tsuki yesterday. I started translating this in the spring of last year because 1) I needed to do a translation exam to get my MA and 2) I’ve leeched off other people’s work in the anime and manga fan community for way too long, and felt that I needed to make some contributions.

I probably feel more accomplished than I have a right to. The disclaimer on Baka-tsuki tells translators that their translations will be “mercilessly edited” but that hasn’t happened so far – the editor and fellow fans have been remarkably nice when suggesting changes. This was a fun project and standards/expectations aren’t very high (I don’t mean that in a derogatory way). Most people are just happy that there are translations out there, so I haven’t really been picked on, which I’m thankful for. I can’t even say that I’m the best person for the job. I’ve been working from a Chinese translation, and on top of that my English is more academic and I’m not well-versed in how 1930s gangsters would talk. Also, there was another translator who might have picked up on the same volume and probably would have done a better job of it, but I went ahead with it anyway, and sometimes I feel slightly selfish for doing that.

I aspired to be a writer, and had some short work published in high school era contests, but eventually realized that my forte didn’t lie in creative work as much as analytical work. Translation gives me the best of both. I’m spared the work of having to come up with things on my own, but in a way I am also rewriting the story in its translation. I’ve learned a lot in the process, and not just about language; for example, I now randomly know about the beginnings of the FBI and locations of historic hotels in Chicago. I’m not American and I haven’t visited the US that many times and I’m also pop culture deprived, so paradoxically translating from a Chinese edition of a Japanese light novel acculturated me into American history (I will probably post an essay about this in Radical Compounds at some point. There’s also one in the works about Durarara!! with a comparison to Baccano! in the works.).

Another by-product of giving up on creative writing is that I’ve also given up on art, and I’m sure my DeviantART account is very lonely but… I learned drawing from when I was very young (the only reason I’m an Asian who doesn’t play piano is because my parents sold our piano to buy plane tickets to get out of Asia) and would have liked to be an artist too, except again the lacking creativity part. In high school I used to draw fanart a lot but then that sort of petered out, and perhaps it’s because I found that I’d outgrown most anime series and no longer found them captivating enough to draw fanart for. But translating Baccano! has made me draw fanart again, perhaps because it’s more consistently at the back of my mind. I was even thinking of Baccano! when I was embroiled in a fight with one party wielding a giant monkey wrench, when most other people would be first and foremost thinking about self-preservation.

Ladd Russo was my favourite character in Baccano! when I was watching the anime, but during volume 8/9 translations I’ve become fond of Victor Talbot. I think he says 2 lines in the anime in the 1717 backstory and that’s it. He’s a minor character still, but as with most other characters in Baccano!, his distinct personality really shines through – openly arrogant and insulting, self-righteous and a major hardass. I actually mistranslated some of Nile’s comments about him in the colour pages at first (I was working off a really bad Chinese translation at the beginning), but Nile sort of says that Victor is the only immortal who tries to think about how their current presence might negatively affect normal human beings and tries to think about ways to prevent it. He also has a lot of respect for Maiza, despite being an FBI agent himself and Maiza being a Camorrista, and seems to care about his mortal employees despite being a rather nasty boss most of the time.

The lighting didn’t turn out exactly like what I had in mind, and I’m still horrible at foreshortening, but:

How to Cook Tomatos with Eges

My respects to Richard Lerderer and his book Anguished English. In the beginning of the book, he has a chapter called “The World According to Student Bloopers.” It gives some interesting and previously unknown historical insights such as “Joan of Arc was burned into a steak” and “Queen Elizabeth exposed herself before her troops and then her navy went out and defeated the Spanish armadillo.”

Today I found a chance to compile something similar. I’m working as an English teacher in China at the moment, and we just finished one term. I was assigned to teach a writing course, and so one of the topics we covered was how to describe a process or give instructions. There were a lot of things to keep in mind for developing a paragraph by process, such as verb tenses, second person address, transitions, etc, so I decided to get the students to revisit this type of paragraph on the final exam.

The question asked students to teach the reader how to cook their favourite food. In China, a popular dish that is easy to make is stir-fried tomatos and eggs, so at least half of my students wrote about how to make this. Despite their homework being pretty well-written most of the time, the writing on the exam was atrocious for some reason. Like Lerderer with History, below is a recipe of the compiled mistakes I found in my students’ exams about making tomatoes with eggs:

—–
You need to prepare some material like two eges and two tomatos and oil. If you like tomatos you can add more.

First, you should put the tomatos into a water-pool and clearn them carefully. You should clearn them by change water three times. When you can make sure about the tomatos are clearn enough and put them on a table.

Second, you need to spoil the edges. This is how. Brake the two eges into a bow, a big one, by knocking their middle. And mix them with chopsticks until they are disturbed. If you like, add a suitable amount of soul, and if you like saccharine then add some sugar. Then you can fire a fire under a pen or some other cooking machine and pour some oil. You should let the pen hung on the fire for a few second until the oil is boiling, then fry the eges until they are yellow.

Third, you should cook the tomatos by cutting them into picie. The fourth step may be the most important one. Put them into a pen and hit them with fire until they are juicy, then make the eges together in the pen. Wait until you can smell something special, it means they are born and can be easted. Don’t forget to turn off the machine. If you like you can fry it with rice, but make sure to take the rice apart with a large spoop before you add rice otherwise it can’t be cooked.

—–

The huge emphasis on cleaning tomatoes isn’t the student trying to add supercilious details. In China, you really do need to wash tomatoes three times. I still don’t understand why so many students wrote “fry the eggs until they are yellow.” Aren’t eggs yellow before you fry them too? am I missing something?

“Soul” is supposed to be “salt.” There was another one who spelled it like “sault.” “Saccharine” probably came from me teaching them that they should try to be formal.

The word “pen” is supposed to be “pan,” obviously. Another interesting alternative spelling for “pot” was “pet.” It’s a pity that the student wasn’t writing about hotdogs.

Giant monkey wrenches do exist.

Another random violent illegal thing happened around me today. I don’t understand why I always meet these things.

I was buying sunglasses at a glasses store close to the university I’m working at, because I lost my sunglasses a while ago and it’s a whopping 30 degrees C outside with sunshine everyday. And I’m in a Chinese city that’s won the UN prize for best city for civillian life or some award like that, so it’s very green and clean and this also means there’s no smog, so most women my age are crowding the sidewalk with their garish parasols while I’m trying to get a tan. Anyway, as I was trying on sunglasses, a customer started arguing with the proprietors because he had previously gotten a pair of sunglasses from when when he just wanted reading glasses, and then he claimed that a store staff had told him that he could get the lenses changed for 35 RMB. However, the staff who were there said they would charge 40 RMB.

At first everyone was pretty jocular, but then the customer said that it would be impossible for them to remain in business, the proprietor answered sharply, and so the customer tried to get around the counter to attack the proprietor. The two saleswomen and I tried to get them to stay on either side of the counter. Normally I don’t wade into fights like this, but you have to understand that this is the South of China, and other than the proprietor, who was a man, both the saleswomen and the male customer were shorter than thinner than me. Anyway, we sort of managed, but then the customer shoved me aside and rushed out. I thought it was over, but he went next door where there was a home-run repair / hardware shop, grabbed a giant monkey wrench, and came back and tried to club the proprietor over the head.

The proprietor went to the doorway leading to the store’s back warehouse while continuing to yell insults at the customer (I guess he went there so he could put a door between him and the customer if the customer really got violent). At this point, some people were starting to gather to watch from outside. The two women and I tried to get the customer to calm down, and I told him both of them could talk again tomorrow when both of them had their rational minds back, but instead he told me to arbitrate between him and the store. This I didn’t want to do, but I listened so that at least he would stop trying to club the other man. He explained this to me, and I said he needed to tell the store who the salesperson was who told him he could change lenses for 35 RMB, but he couldn’t say. Because he couldn’t say, the owner and the women got smug, and so he tried to attack them again. We asked him to put the monkey wrench down but he refused. Finally one of the women caved and said she’d change his lenses for 35 RMB. The man sat down, but the woman gave him the last parting shot that he already crossed the line and they could press charges.

I bought a pair of sunglasses and left. While I was waiting for the bus, it didn’t seem like the conflict escalated anymore, and the onlookers dispersed. I wondered whether the customer really meant to attack the owner, because that would have been really serious – the wrench was longer than my forearm. I also wondered whether I should have gone out and called the police, but I had a feeling that the Chinese police wouldn’t really want to deal with something minor like this, while more massive crimes were going on. I haven’t experienced anything like this in Canada, and I can’t imagine any disagreement over $5 would involve one person attacking another with a wrench in broad daylight in a store. And we’re not talking about street gangs here; the customer was decently dressed in a middle-aged office worker sort of way and so was the store proprietor. It seems that along with things like spitting on the streets and not lining up, certain common courtesies are really absent here.

The Naiveté of A World Without Thieves

Today I went for a talk with the Dean of the Sino-Canadian International College in Guangxi University. He maintains that for full-time instructors, he can only hire White people. However, that’s not the topic I want to address, because on the way back from the interview, a young man accused me of robbing him and insisted that I go to the police with him.

I’m in China now (if you know where Guangxi is – it’s the next province over from Guangdong/Canton), and I’ve been here for about a month and a half. I really should have written a lot more about my insights here, but constantly looking for work, as well as writing an encyclopaedia entry for Salem Press’s new reference set on comics, sucked up most of my time and energy. Also, most of the things I’ve observed here I’ve only observed; they didn’t affect me directly. Today’s event certainly did; through this experience I can talk about many of the things I’ve heard about in China, such as its crime rate and the gap between rich and poor. Those topics will be over at Radical Compounds.

What happened was: outside the university campus, there’s a newspaper stand type of thing that looks like a hut, which exists in this form all over China. They sell magazines, newspapers, periodical comics, snacks, and things like phone cards. I’ve visited one already to purchase a monthly comic, and since I needed change for the bus (1 RMB), I decided to buy something like it. In many big Chinese cities, the buses have 1 driver and 1 ticket collector, who sells you tickets and gives you change. In Nanning none of the buses have a ticket collector, hence I needed change. But I couldn’t find anything from looking through the stands, and left to go to a market on the other side of the street. As I was about to cross the street, a young man caught up with me and asked me whether I came across a MP4 player. I told him that I didn’t see anything like it, and he said I was standing beside him at the newspaper stand and then when I left, he reached into his pocket and found that his MP4 player was missing.

I asked him what it looked like. He said it was white. I said I didn’t take it and kept on crossing the street (normally I don’t cross streets if I can help it – crossing the street in China is suicidal). He said that we should go to the police so they can make sure I didn’t take it. Since I was on my way home I reiterated my point and said that it would take up time and I wasn’t willing to go. The truth is, I wasn’t in a hurry, but I didn’t have any ID with me, and also I have no idea what Chinese law allows or doesn’t allow, especially for someone who doesn’t hold Chinese citizenship. My Chinese is decent, but not good enough that I can understand law articles written in Chinese. More importantly, I’d been warned about robbers in China (my mom’s words is that “they practice until their first two fingers are the same length!” – not sure how that would help). I was afraid that he meant to rob me while I was preoccupied with explaining that I didn’t rob him. He started explaining that he just went to buy a pack of gum for bus money and then found his MP4 missing, and I was the only one standing beside him the whole time, so he suspects me. I was annoyed and getting frightened, so I got on a random bus. He followed me on the bus.

I was going to get change from a 5 but since I couldn’t, I gave the driver my 5. Anyway, the young man asked me in a rather loud voice why I was giving a 5. I said I originally wanted to exchange it but then he started annoying me. He again started asking me to go to the police. I said I wanted to leave; he started asking the passengers and the driver whether there’s a police station nearby. Everyone said they didn’t know, and looked very uncomfortable. I was thinking that they’d rather not get dragged into a dispute, even if they did know where the police station was.

I told him that I could take everything out of my pockets to show him. He said ok, so I took out my wallet and cell phone and some candy wrappers. He saw this and said that he can’t be sure I’m not concealing it somewhere else, and he can’t do a body search on the street, so we should go to the police. I said I’m on my way home, and he said that he’d follow me home. At this point I got more alarmed, and asked him why I would show him where I lived. Now I was worried not that he would rob me, because if he did intend to do that he would not insist on going to the police. Now I was worried that he’d planted his MP4 player on me somewhere so that he can prove that I stole it when we got to the police. So, I began going through everything to see if I had someone on me that wasn’t mine, and didn’t find anything. Since he said that his MP4 is white, I took out my MP3, which is black, and showed him. He was still insisting that I go to the police with him, and I said I had another interview in the afternoon. He accused me of making up stories because I had previously said I was going home. I explained that I needed to go home and get documents I needed for the interview because I didn’t want to carry them around. This was a lie on my part, and it did no good. Since I didn’t have anything on me I decided that I could prove my innocence to the police rather than waste time taking random buses in a city I’m not familiar with. So we got off.

Apparently there were no police stations around there, and he asked some illegally operating motorcycle taxi services where he could find one. One motorcyclist offered to take us. I became suspicious again and said I won’t go with a motorcycle, because I had no idea if they were working together and meant to abduct me. The motorcyclist, a middle-aged, weathered man with bloodshot eyes and brown teeth in a large grin, seemed incredibly amused. The young man asked me whether I would go if we take a taxi, and I said I would. So we started to look around for a taxi. We had gotten off at a very busy intersection, at a bus stop where maybe 20 different bus lines passed through. There were tons of taxis but they all had someone in them. The motorcyclist suggested we call the police and have them come here. The boy agreed, took out his cell, and dialled 110. He asked the motorcyclist what the street was and the motorcyclist told him. When he was on the phone with the police, he sounded rather objective – “a woman was standing beside me” and “I don’t know but I suspect her,” so I felt that he genuinely did lose his MP4 player, and that we’d clear this up.

At this point I also called my mother. She told me to speak Chinese to her on the phone but I said I’d rather speak English, and told her what happened. She became extremely alarmed and asked me where I was. Since my Chinese isn’t very good, I didn’t remember the name of the stop, and went to check. She asked me what she could do, and I said nothing, I’d go to the police, I was just letting her know where I was. I was also letting her know in case I was mistaken and the young man did intend to do something to me, at least investigators would have a reported location. She told me to wait and not go anywhere and she went to ask her colleagues.

My mother called back later to say she also called the police. I was thinking something along the lines of “that’s a waste of taxpayers’ money, he already called the police,” but she explained that he called the police on me and me calling the police on him are separate cases. I sort of saw the logic of that, and she said to wait where I was and she’d come with the police. The police that the young man called still hadn’t arrived, so we both called the police again. The girl who answered the phone was a little annoyed because she had already reported it. We went to a guard station to wait. I asked him what his name was, and whether he was a student at Guangxi U. He said the name of his school, which I didn’t know, and said that he came here to visit. After a while he asked me whether I was a local, and I admitted that I wasn’t.

I should explain what he looked like – I told my mom on the phone that he’s probably my age or younger, and he really did look quite young. It’s a stereotype that Chinese people are short, but that’s mostly because the first Chinese people to live in North America are from the south, where Guangxi is. They tend to be shorter and darker-skinned than northern Chinese people, but I won’t get into stereotypes for now. I’m from the north, so I’m taller than the average Southern Chinese female – I’m probably at the average height of a Southern Chinese male. So he and I were the same height, and he was considerably skinnier than I was, and you could even say he looked pretty. He obviously wasn’t from a wealthy family, but he didn’t look extremely destitute either – he looked like an average middle-class kid, with running shoes, a semi-fashionable haircut, a loose grey jacket with a lot of zippers and pockets, and had a slight slouch.

So I admitted that I wasn’t from around here, and that in fact I’d just come home from abroad. He asked me whether I was from here originally, and I said no, from the north. He said he thought I could understand Mandarin, so why was I speaking another language on the phone? I said since I grew up abroad, my Chinese isn’t good. He nodded and didn’t say anything, and I said to him that I don’t remember his name even though he just told me a few minutes ago because I had no idea how the characters were written. He seemed a little confused about all of this. At some point during the wait he apologized for wasting my time. I said that it was all right, there were few other better options for him.

The police that he had called arrived first, after maybe 20 minutes. They were 2 men – I was hoping they’d brought a woman, especially if it involved some sort of body search. But they just came to take up back to the station. One was a tall and corporeal man in his 40s or 50s, his short hair mostly grey. The other was a short and slight young man with longer hair and big, watery eyes. My mother called me as they arrived and told me that they’re bringing some kind of precinct leader with them and told me to stay put. But the police that arrived told me to go with them. The precinct leader on my mother’s end started telling me over the phone to let him speak with the 2 police officers, but they refused to take the phone. So I was trying to explain to the two officers present that another officer was coming, but since my Chinese isn’t very good I didn’t know the title of the officer with my mother, and didn’t really get across to them. I explained I was from abroad and my Chinese wasn’t very good. Meanwhile, I also heard snatches of the police officer on the other end of the line instructing me loudly to say that I have rights not to get into the police car. I looked skeptically at the police officers and their car, because I didn’t have a very good impression of what my rights were.

Both officers and the young man were in the car at this time and I was standing on the sidewalk. I told them I was told to stay there. Many passers-by were looking at us with intense interest. When I refused to get into the car, both police officers came out again and came to stand beside me on the sidewalk. The older man told me that if I am innocent, then the young man would be responsible for any legal outcome, so would I please get into the car. I hesitated and then told whomever was on the other end of the phone that I had no choice and I would be going with them. So we all went in and drove off, the police putting on the sirens to clear space for a U-turn.

My mother asked me which police station they were taking me to, and I had to ask again because I couldn’t remember the name they told me. My mother told me not to be afraid and I told her I wasn’t. The older officer said to the young man that if this creates some sort of international incident, he’d bear responsibility, and asked me where I was from. I said Canada. He seemed amused by this. Then he started citing law articles as he drove – “In the law of the People’s Republic of China, Article 82, point 1, it says…” he said some idiom I don’t remember, which sounded like it had something to do with who I can or cannot talk to. I said I don’t understand. He seemed amused again and told me to ask my mom. This weirdness of the situation hit me and I started smiling as well.

We got to the police station and the older officer started explaining to another middle-aged officer, who had weathered skin and dark bags under his eyes, in either Cantonese or the local Guangxi dialect, still looking amused. I caught “rob” and “Canada” but that was about it. He and the younger officer left at this point and the officer with bag under his eyes got another younger officer to start writing down testimonies and take our IDs. I told him I had no ID; he asked me for my passport. I said I don’t carry it around with me, so he asked me to call my mother to bring it. I called my mother, who said she didn’t go on a detour back home to get it, but she had photocopies at her office and should have brought those. Meanwhile, the young man told the younger officer that he came from another city and was visiting his sister, who was doing graduate work at Guangxi U. I asked him what she was studying and he said agriculture. The younger officer asked us whether there were other people around at the time, and he said that there were two kids. The officer asked how old the kids were, and I said elementary or middle school, but there were a lot of passers by as well. He also recorded what the MP4 looked like – the young man said it was white, about the size of the palm of his hand, and he wrote down the brand but didn’t know the model number.

The middle-aged officer took me to another room and asked me my side of the story, which I told him. I said initially I was reluctant to come to the police in case he planted something on me, and he nodded. He said the only thing they can do is to make me take everything out and show that I didn’t have the MP4 player, and if I prove that I was innocent, then the young man could just apologize. I said that’s what the young man came to do anyway. So we went back to the first room and he explained this to the young man, and so I took everything out of my pockets and my backpack and showed them that my sweater has no pockets, and the pockets of my pants were too small to fit anything. So the young man bowed a few times and apologized for wasting my time. I felt awkward and said that it was all right.

The younger officer was still taking notes, so I called my mom and said that the problem is solved. She told me to stay put, since they were almost there, and that the young man needed talking to for disrupting other people’s lives. I told my mother that if he lost something then of course he’d try to get it back. She said no, they brought the other officer so they can’t turn back. The younger officer said he’s finished taking the testimony and so the young man could go. He looked at me and I said I was told that both of us should stay. We sat down again and the officer started going through TV channels, ending up at figure skating. It was also rather surreal.

I had some idea of what my mother and the officer would say to the young man, so I waited for a while and called them again to tell them everything was all right. Again my mother reiterated that my rights were violated and so she needed to show up. I said my rights weren’t violated because I agreed to go to the police, and that was the only reasonable thing to do. She insisted that the officer with her had things to say, and that she was almost there before I was too far from where they were. I sat back down and told the young man not to mind what they said to him when they arrived because I understand that if he thinks he lost something, that was the best thing he could have done. I told him I’d also been robbed and I also went to the police.

I waited outside so I can talk to my mother first. They got there after a long time, and their driver apologized. I said it was all right. My mother demanded to know where the young man was and he came outside as well; she told him that he’d violated my rights by dragging me off the bus. He said that he didn’t drag me off the bus and again I said I got off the bus willingly. She went on to say that since I was from Canada, I wouldn’t be stealing his MP4 player (there seems to be no logic to this, but she was trying to say that since I’m from Canada, chances are I am both better brought up and more wealthy than he is). She then said that he could have caused me permanent psychological damage and made him leave his name and number, “so we can send you the psychiatrist’s bill.” I tried to stop her from ranting but she didn’t. She asked him whether he thought I looked like a thief, and why he’d suspect me of all people when there were tons of other people around, etc. At this point the young man looked like he was going to cry so I again told her it was all right. He apologized to her as well, and then went back inside when my mother said I should get in the car. The driver took my backpack to put it into the car.

I stayed while the officer that came with my mother took the young man back inside and started lecturing him. “Why would you suspect her? Do you know who she is? She’s a teacher at Guangxi University! Well, aren’t you?” In light of the conversation with the Dean, “Uh, no, I don’t think so.” And about violating my rights, especially since I was a girl, so he shouldn’t have dragged me off the bus. We both stipulated again that he didn’t drag me off the bus, and in fact he didn’t touch me at all. He made the boy repeat his story that he came to visit his sister and made him leave his sister’s phone number, which the boy did, but said he didn’t want to trouble his sister. I was getting somewhat annoyed because the young man was obviously distressed. Both my mother and the officer said that he’d also wasted their time – my mother said “my wage for one hour could probably buy 3 of your MP3 or MP4 players,” and the officer showed the young man his badge and said, “Do you know what position I hold? And I had to come all the way out here!” This was annoying because I felt like he was saying it to me as well. He also ended up by rebuking the young man to manage his own things better and not to leave things in his pockets.

My mother said that there was nothing more for me to do and so we went back to the car. I lingered for a bit, but there really wasn’t anything I could do, so turned to go. The young man apologized again and I said it was all right, and went back to the car. The officer came out after a moment and asked my mother and I whether we wanted to say anything else, with the idea of whether we wanted to press charges. My mother said no, and I also said no. While we were all getting into the car, the boy was let go and he walked away and looked back at us, and I’m not sure what he intended. I looked at him a little sadly.

On the way back, the officer who came with my mom lectured me goodnaturedly on how thieves operate in China. There’s a term that translates as “phishing,” I guess, whereby someone insists you stole something from them and then asks you to give them cash in return for not pressing charges. Or, after they make you give them cash, they might say that your money is counterfeit and ask you for more. He said I was right not to get on a motorcycle, but I shouldn’t have gotten off the bus, because the bus is a confined space and there are many other thieves outside. I shouldn’t even have gotten on the bus; I should have called the police when he accused me of robbing him. Or, if I didn’t want to lead him home, I could lead him to my mother’s work place. Especially if the thief who is talking to me has other helpers around, it could be very dangerous, and several men could jump out of a van and then hold me hostage.

He also said that he was sure that the young men was a thief, because he couldn’t look the officer in the eye when he was being spoken to. The young man also didn’t look like a student – “his running shoes were for running,” and his loose jacket was to hide things in. I was told to keep my mouth shut and listen, but I was thinking, of course he couldn’t look the officer in the eye – the officer was in a position of authority and screaming at him; also, what’s a student supposed to look like and what’s a thief supposed to look like? And many people wear running shoes. I thought he was dressed like any average young guy in China. My mother seemed to agree with the officer so I didn’t voice my opinions much.

Anyway, we all had lunch together near my mother’s work place, and then the driver sent the officer back to his office and then sent me home. During lunch, the officer told me that I dressed like I wasn’t from around here, which surprised me, since I purposefully dressed rather like local young adults in a shiny puffy coat. But my hat and my earrings apparently give me away, and thieves are great at picking out people who aren’t locals. My mother’s colleague, who also went with her, said that if you ask the taxi drivers in Guangxi the price in Mandarin they’d give you a different price than if you asked in the local dialect or Cantonese, so that applies all across the board. During lunch, other topics came up, such as America’s attitude towards Canada, how certain Vietnamese people hate Chinese people for slaughtering entire villages, and how America and China can co-exist as superpowers, and whether people in Guangxi eat dogs a lot, but those topics aren’t relevant here.

After the driver dropped off the officer and started on the way back to where I lived, he said to me that he felt sorry for the young man. I was immediately relieved that someone else shared my point of view that he was not a thief. The driver went on to say that he’s not sure the officer was entirely right, and I said yes, the police also have their biases. I was glad everything worked out in my favour – or at least, no one was hurt by this; the young man didn’t get a criminal record, I didn’t get mugged or kidnapped. However, if there was anyone who was psychologically damaged from this, it wasn’t me, but him. Or rather, not psychologically damaged, but his insistence that we go to the police indicated that he had faith in the system of justice, and that as a victim he would get satisfaction. Since I didn’t steal his MP4 player, the only satisfaction he could get would have been a sympathetic police force. Instead he got chewed out. Upon reflection, I thought that the officer’s rebuke of managing this things more carefully was a backhanded way of giving him the benefit of the doubt, and if he is not a thief I hope he also remembers what the officer said and the implication behind it.

Degrees of Love (Fake Chinese Restaurants)

M: So, it went well, did it?

S: As well as it could, I suppose? It was very chilax.

M: Are you bringing others into it?

S: They are welcome…I suppose this relates to all of you.

W: Congratulations.

S: Although it’s not the same field as you arose from, D__’s field was Romanticism before.

W: That’s quite all right. Your devotion is commendable. And Romanticism is where popular literatures took off and the common people began to be weighed more.

S: I suppose.

GX: xiu cai for you.

S: There are a lot more now. I’m not sure that carries the same weight.

M: Well, it still went well.

S: No offence to the two of you, but that means a lot, coming from you.

M: It’s not something I could do.

S: No, you compensate for what I lack. And, well, yes, I suppose this is because of both of you,
as well.

GX: What does it have to do with me?

S: They might not consider it, but you may have considered all of your subjects and your children. And this is Asian modernity I am talking about. You would be happy to know this is going on. It’s finally going as you wanted it to go. We’ve finally picked up, and shown the West what we’re made of. All right, it’s more frivolous than what you imagined, but that’s part of my argument, that this is part of modernity. And postmodernity.

GX: I see.

S: And to do with you – well, as you said…the devotion comes from you. The lasting conviction that this is important. And that I have to do this. Even if sometimes I feel like I can’t get my head around some of the concepts, or I feel that I’m not worthy to handle the imaginations of so many greater than me – well, then I must improve myself. It’s become such a part of me. I can only hope I can be a part of it. I’ve been chasing the sublime, and I know I can never work in Romanticism – too many have come before me – but as you said, it’s similar.

M: Don’t start crying again.

S: I’m not going to. I did come close to it many times today. I just…ok maybe your warning just
now was justified.

M: Are you…?

S: I suppose, in a way like…like you.

W: Me?

S: Your character base. It’s hard not to. Don’t worry…it’s not like that at all. I mean, my mother and Prof was already a warning sign about this sort of thing. It’s another degree of love.

M: Well, don’t start crying.

S: The first time was when they guided me out of the room. The second was when I was entering the Phoenix. The third time was when I was looking into my hot water. And the fourth time in the hallway when Jessie and I were leaving, when I saw D and M and V together. Different degrees again. Relief, and thankfulness, and feeling fortunate, and feeling wistful.

M: And in the restaurant?

S: You mean in the evening?

M: Yes. What was that all about?

S: I was thinking, this is Asian America, isn’t it? And I couldn’t help think that I’ve been wrong.

M: About what?

S: About those people. I was being like Frank Chin, distancing myself from people who recently came from Asia, thinking that there are too many differences between me and them. Especially as it relates to consumerism. And the restaurant staff were probably Cantonese and HK kids working in a Northern Chinese food restaurant probably owned by Cantonese people. I would have dismissed the food as inauthentic in a moment, and on the street I would have dismissed youths who look like them as rich kids whose experiences have nothing to do with my life. But I saw them carrying a stack of ten plates in their veined hands while Rilakkuma cell phone chains dangled from their pockets, and I realized, you are who I have been writing about, all your slurry-laced, plate-banging, disjunctive lives. So next time on the street and in Richmond shopping centres, I’ll look a second time and consider us alike.

M: It almost sounds like this moral event was more important than the defence.

S: Well, it’s an outcome of what the defence represented. I was passed easily, I know, but it’s still a defence about why this is important. And those young Chinese people in the restaurant became the reason why this is all important, for a moment.

W: You said once before that your mother urged you to take responsibility for the path you have chosen, that you represent a particular subjectivity of your generation. So this is the fruition.

S: Part of it. When she put it that way that time, I felt burdened. One reason I don’t want to go into Sciences, and especially not medicine, was that I’m generally pretty scatterbrained and I don’t trust myself with the life and death of other people. And I thought she made it sound like Humanities was the same thing, and I was uncertain about whether I want to see the Humanities in this light. But I can’t be hypocritical; I can’t advocate the importance of the humanities without also believing that it could have as much impact over the life and death of humanity, and in some ways I have to admit that it might have more sway that Science over the life and death of our collective Humanity.

In the restaurant, the burden finally rounded out into all the nooks of my skull. I finally saw whose burdens I was carrying. And even if ultimately we are not alike, it didn’t matter. If they never recognize what I’m doing, it doesn’t matter either. If they don’t feel the effects of work like mine, then their descendants would, or new immigrants would. The project of Asian North America and the people finally connected, and the burden was sublime.

The Collapse of Irrelevant Macro-Constructs

S: Oh god, what a disaster…

M: It as just a misunderstanding…

S: I know it was, but I don’t think I can convince my mother that it was. And she had to drag racism and everything into it.

M: I thought you didn’t subscribe to race-neutral perspectives? Especially after living in Hamilton?

S: But I don’t see it in this situation. I’ll admit now that race may be a factor in my mother’s work, but there’s nothing in that woman’s behaviour to suggest that her being mean came from being racist. Frankly, I think she’s getting her just desserts for what she did to I__. So even if it’s racist, she was a lot worse.

M: So that’s why you didn’t help?

S: She said “you are treating us like shit.” My mother saying something like that. Is she any better then?

M: I think you’re deluded.

S: Excuse me?

M: You thought they might be friends.

S: Is that a wrong expectation to have? That tenants and landlords can be friends? I was friends with G, or if not friends, at least friendly. And I don’t agree with her fighting fire with fire. She embarrasses me. This isn’t the first time she’s gotten pissed off at someone and acted totally uncivilized.

M: You’re bringing up the past again.

S: It’s not called “bringing up the past” if the past was never resolved satisfactorily. It’s called this is one in a very long line of like incidents. It’s like precedents in law. Was Althea ever like this?

M: That’s up to you. So far you seem to think it was mostly my fault.

S: Sorry.

M: That’s fine. I understand you need to work out your real life issues, but if it’s just wish fulfillment for you, why are you making it my fault? Please understand, I’m just curious.

S: Well, I don’t think it’s your fault, because I have no idea what Althea is like. Or rather, I guess I do, she’s a very nice person. So I know it’s the situation that caused whatever friction that occurs. And *I* don’t think it’s your fault – *you* think it’s your fault.

M: Friction?

S: You feeling overworked. And feeling burdened. And perhaps not doing your best.

M: I guess that’s how you feel about your mother too.

S: Yes, so I tried to make that mirror real life. But it’s not wish fulfillment. You’re wrong there.

M: Isn’t it?

S You were never a wish fulfilment. Just the opposite.

M: That makes more sense then. So you can’t admit that you might be the one who is wrong in real life, therefore your are building a situation where I admit that I am wrong.

S: Yes, pretty much. But the reason for creating your psychological profile is not because I can’t admit it in real life…it’s more like…so that I can start to see things in that perspective if it’s not me who’s first leading me towards it.

M: Ah, like reading novels for life lessons instead of accounts of real events makes the lesson easier to digest.

S: Yes, I suppose. I suppose the whole K situation is also in this vein. Well, I make you the lamb for myself, I suppose.

M: I think you meant goat.

S: Right, a goat named Miracle.

M: They don’t happen.

S: What?

M: Miracles don’t happen. You thinking they might be friends…

S: I thought that since they’re both…first generation immigrants, from ex-communist countries, it might give them some common language, some common experience. But I did sort of anticipate this, in a jokey worst scenario sort of way. I jus t didn’t think they’d really start screaming at one another 10 minutes after we moved in.

M: Are you all right?

S: You know I’m all right and I will never be all right. As long as I live with my mother, this sort of thing will continue to happen. And she says she doesn’t make my life difficult! It’s not the amount of extra work she needs me to do. It’s her attitudes and actions towards other people which don’t jibe with mine, yet I can’t change her, so I have to stand by and watch someone close to me commit things I would consider immoral. It’s the same reason as in high school, really, why I was so desperate to live alone.

M: I think what H said before was right. You have to tolerate how other people run things. You can’t have everything your way.

S: That’s not it. It’s just that when I live with my mother, very few things are my way. Like the furniture I left behind, for example. I’d rather be generous to new tenants and just give them the stuff – but my mother would insist I sell it. She doesn’t let me do things my way. So even worse than standing by and watching someone do something immoral, I find myself doing things I don’t want to do.

K: Why don’t you just tell her?

S: That won’t change anything.

K: Give her enough of a shock and she might change.

S: Or it might kill her. I don’t have the same relationship as you and your mother, I’m afraid.

K: You’re just making up excuses to avoid a confrontation. You need to be more assertive. Even Marcelle is to a certain extent. Would you kill someone who hurt someone dear to you? You can’t even ask your roommates to stop washing dishes when your mother is sleeping.

S: Because they have a right to wash dishes during the day. My mother is the one with special needs that everyone else has to accommodate. There it is again – her needing things to be her way. It doesn’t even have to be overt actions.

K: and yet you support taxes going to people with disabilities?

S: What does that have to do with anything?

K: You support the populace accommodating people with disabilities, yet you don’t support those around you accommodating your mother, who has certain needs?

M: he’s actually right.

S: Whose side are you on?

M: I’m always on your side. I’m on the side of the you who is the best that you could be.

S: What are you suggesting?

M: I think you are biased against her.

S: Of course I am. She’s done some pretty awful things to me. It’s hard not to be biased against someone who’s locked you out of the house and beaten you and thrown things at you. I’m trying not to be, but it’s pretty difficult. And where do you think I got my ability to tolerate other people? I can live in this house now and not feel angry towards the landlady because I’ve had to live in the house of someone I disliked for so long, so in comparison, this is nothing.

M: But your mother apologized.

S: And yet she would do it again.

K: Just sever ties.

S: I can’t do that.

K: Why?

S: responsibility. And no, I don’t want a confrontation. I had bad cramps after their shouting match today. And that was between the 2 of them.

M: They weren’t that bad.

S: They were certainly not normal.

M: If you can’t sever ties, you’re just going to have to live with it.

S: I can’t bring myself to do that either. That would mean I would have to fundamentally change my values.

K: So you’re going to go on like this?

S: I wish I was more useful.

K: All you did was start crying.

S: I’m very tired.

K: it wouldn’t have been any different had you been well.

S: You’re right, probably not. But that came more from the root dilemma we just talked about rather than the fact that they were arguing, or even what they were arguing about.

M: meta-meta…

S: I want to think the best of people. And I’m upset she doesn’t.

K: She’s right, you are deluded.

M: I didn’t mean that.

K: What did you mean?

M: She’s mapping a weird historical fantasy over this.

S: I am not.

M: Yes, you are. I don’t mean derived from the series, no, but you have this romantic ideal of some sort, which is not the situation now. She might understand the political relations between the two countries better than you. It might be racism.

S: I don’t think it is.

M: On what basis? Even you noticed she was laughing when she was talking to R_______.

S: Yes, but she’s being nice to me. My mother came to the house and started picking on things wrong with it, saying it’s not the first floor blah blah blah. That’s one of my mother’s problems – she always picks out something to blame before she picks out something good to say about something. So D____ said she was hard on him.

M: You don’t know that D was referring to that.

S: No, you’re right, I’m guessing. But I’m not mapping a historical romantic fantasy over this. Or at least, even if I am, it’s not a wrong expectation that two people coming out of similar socio-political background would get along. I’m not mapping things over in a fangirly sort of way. Though I would love to talk to them…but they aren’t my constructs.

K: You talked to other people’s constructs before.

M: She can’t. It doesn’t make sense. It would just make her more deluded.

S: I am not deluded!

M: What answers could they give you anyway? Taking other people’s constructs – but if you take them up you’re still talking to yourself.

S: Well, I get answers from you, don’t I? And the people on the forum already gave me some answers. Real people, not constructs. I was basing my expectations from that in part.

M: But those are a different generation of people. Young people have less concerns about larger socio-political questions. You can’t take the people on the forum as representative of a how two nations see one another.

S: well, isn’t it more logical to think that a segment of the population represents the population rather than to assume that they are the reverse? “Do you work in a pet shop?”

M: That’s true. But you should have thought more about it. It’s not that simple.

*****

S: I’m still angry.

M: At whom?

S: Everyone. Including myself. I should have pursued the Mississauga offers.

M: There was no way you would know this would turn out like this.

S: Oh, so I’m no longer deluded?

M: You still are. It was not your fault for not anticipating conflict, but it was your fault for hoping things would turn out really well.

S: That’s no comfort.

M: That’s not my job.

S: I suppose I still want reassurance from abstract constructs. But that’s even less their job than yours. If they have a function.

M: Their function is mostly entertainment.

S: That’s their primary function. They have other latent functions. I just want people to get along. That’s what the stories are meant to be about, I think – even the ultimate event of discord is refigured as a possibility of concord. I just want to actualize it at a smaller human level, that’s all. If that makes me deluded, then so be it. I especially want these two nations and its people to get along. We had such a long history together of struggling together to spread what we thought was right to the rest of the world. I don’t want an environmental war to find us in the position of fighting over resources, and I don’t want us to start competing over who’s the better capitalist.

M: I don’t think it was ever working together to spread what was right to the rest of the world. You’re descending into romanticism again.

S: At least that was what some people thought, and that was the official party mandate, even if some leaders had ulterior motives. As I said, plus those people in the forums. It’s like, so young people can see positive traits in one another following decades of diplomatic unity, and two post-menopausal women over here just couldn’t be civilized? I’m greatly upset over this. And my mother trying to assert her Canadian citizenship to another immigrant – that’s totally useless. It was just a friendly question about where she was coming from and she took offence. I was trying to make things work with a larger socio-historical framework in mind but she wasn’t helping. You might call that framework a delusion, but isn’t it better to hold these frameworks and try to get along rather than be petty?

M: But wouldn’t those same frameworks mean that you reject individuals who are your cultural enemies?

S: No. I would never approach individuals affiliated with an ex-enemy nation of my nation coldly based on their affiliation. Would you?

M: I think I would.

S: Really?

M: You haven’t fought a war. But you watched those documentaries. The woman said she didn’t feel sorry for what she did and she would do it again.

S: But that was during war. You lived among your enemy nation.

M: And in some ways they never ceased to be an enemy nation…I’m not proud of it, but I’m just trying to say…don’t be so high and mighty about your objectivity, because you’re not being objective in many other ways.

S: I know I’m not. That’s exactly where I’m being high and mighty – it’s because I choose to be a romanticist.

M: You can afford to be one now.

S: But I’m not going to be the lone wanderer in a sea of fog either. I am not subtracted from society – which is why I am doing what I can, at a small human level between two people that I know. You can call the impetus behind a hero of lesser causes a delusion, but is it really so wrong?

M: Have you ever thought that they might not get along because they are too similar?

S: Yes, I did, but as I said, it was a worst-scenario jokey sort of way. I think they are very similar – two highly intelligent women put through the communist meatgrinder when they were young to make them headstrong and independent, and then they both had to come over here and struggle again with the Western European / American culture. Both bringing up the next generation with no man in the family. It’s made both of them guarded and no-nonsense with a chip on their shoulder and a way of exploiting – ok not exploiting – but mining their environments for maximum personal gain for themselves and their families, as a strategy for survival. Ong married to Atwood. So maybe they could have been friends in another context, but when they are doing business it invariably can’t work.

M: This makes an interesting mirror story for the one about I__.

S: Yes, it does, doesn’t it? I’m still angry, but I guess it all becomes fodder for academia. That’s the only thing that makes me feel better…

The Edge of the Universe

S: Well, don't urinate.

After the Break

S: ….I think I’m going to have a breakdown. I’m definitely heading there.

M: Don’t….

S: They had no reason to…they seemed to be on par all through corresponding…unless…

M: Don’t make any prejudgements…

S: Well, I doubt they’d reply. They don’t have time for that. And they took less than a day to answer. I doubt they could have contacted my references during this time. And my response to the questionnaire should have been impeccable. So I think it’s the not hiring Chinese people thing again.

M: You knew that was the case though.

S: But I thought that being an agency based outside Asia and going to Taiwan would be better. I’ll wait and see, I guess. If they don’t reply, then…I’m just going to have to assume that’s the case.

M: At least if they say that’s the case, it might make you see the light and stop going on about this. Why do you want this so badly anyway?

S: I want to be there. I want to be in Asia. And I know Taiwan isn’t China, but culturally it’s close enough that I would feel like I sort of belong there…

M: Don’t you belong here?

S: Yes, I do. I belong in both places. But ultimately…although I share many things with both cultures, I feel like the difference in the things that I do share is significant. A wooden house built on a brick foundation is not the same as a brick house built on a wooden foundation.

M: I don’t really think that’s the case. Hasn’t this whole race issue proved that you don’t really share a lot of your foundational values with people in Asia?

S: I suppose, but…

M: I think what’s at stake here is your view of the world.

S: What do you mean?

M: You want to believe that the world is a fair place. And so far you’ve done all right by the world. You’ve advanced mostly where you wanted to advance. This had to come some time – pity it came so late for you to realize it.

S: I was just going to call my mom. But then I thought, no, I can’t bother her. She might be sleeping. And I doubt she’d give me much comfort anyway. She’d probably just say that she’s found out a long time ago that the world isn’t fair.

M: Well, she’s right.

S: Maybe you’re right.

M: This is why your essays always talk about what cultural texts have achieved rather what they leave out. Because you haven’t faced enough turbulence in your life to really pick at what hasn’t yet been rectified.

S: I HAVE always wondered why I can’t seem to find what’s wrong with things I’m working on. So you’re saying this will all come to some good somewhere else?

M: Possibly. And there are other positions out there. Maybe all these rejections are paving the way for something better.

S: I don’t know. Not in the same area.

M: Still fixated on the area…you can teach English here too you know.

S: From a practical perspective, it’s not the same. Because teaching here would be a part time job with no benefits. And it’s also…symbolic. As I said, it’s the different environment that I’m looking for. And I want to be acknowledged by my own people. I suppose recently I’ve been thinking too much about nations and national bodies and so forth and that’s making it worse, but I feel utterly betrayed in this whole process. I can’t speak for Taiwan, but China has always tried to maintain ties to its own people outside, with the newspapers and broadcasts and so forth – which are saying, essentially, “you matter to us. We want to keep you close even though geographically you’re far away, because ultimately you are still our people.” But it turns that that might not be true.

M: But that’s just for this kind of work.

S: But then this just means that China doesn’t value its own people. It prioritizes White people over its own people. And that tendency isn’t just about this kind of work, it’s everywhere. You’re right that I haven’t run into anything like this – now I have about something that matters and I’m really disappointed.

No answer.

M: You’re talking to me.

S: That’s not the same thing. But anyway, I was saying…the disappointment is partly that I want to have a secure position, partly I can’t believe this is being done to me, and partly just…I can’t believe it’s like this at all. No matter who it impacts. I’m disappointed in them. Like you can’t believe that an older relative whom you’ve loved all your life – compounded by the fact that they’re not around – has started to disappoint you, and this is the final straw.

M: That’s a growing process for all people, I’m afraid. You’ve already been disillusions with your parents.

S: Well, I’m still ok with them. I haven’t been so disillusioned that I’ve wanted to forsake them forever. But this is really getting to that point.

M: The trick is to be disillusioned but still love them.

S: Oh, I will, I’m sure. I’m not talking about parents – I will love China no matter what it does to me and to other people. The intensity of the disappointment is directly proportionate to how much it matters to me and how much I love it. But it also just means – and this also applies to parents – that when they hurt you it will continue to hurt. It will never get any less painful.

M: I guess I understand. But for me it’s not the same, I guess. I…I sort of did it to myself.

S: Yes, I know. It’s a half-formed thought, but yes, you did, didn’t you? You convinced yourself that Karkolla doesn’t matter to you and that you don’t matter to Karkolla. And you felt unworthy of Karkolla. So in not being acknowledged, you were in a way happy. Whereas I feel I am worthy, and I can’t come to feel, even a faked sense, that China doesn’t matter to me.

27 000 000

There must be lines -
geographical, mathematical, contested borders,
maps redrawn, bodies quartered;
populate open wounds and call it heaven.

All the snow shall be red. I will draw you a line with footprints.
A line across the gate of heaven, and I am waiting on this side
For questions to stop blowing
Through our collective mind.

S: Help me. I can’t concentrate.

M: Again, this really isn’t my field.

S: No, this is. Wouldn’t you feel this too? How did you see Karkolla after you left?

M: …not like this.

S: were you never as conflicted as I was? I can’t see how you weren’t.

M: I was, but…I couldn’t go back and that was that.

S: You can be so practical.

M: Well, that’s where I’m different from you. I don’t give myself over to hysterics, emotional extremes, and melodrama.

S: I can’t help it. If it makes me feel this way then it does. Please understand that.

M: No, I understand it. I’m just making a non-judgemental distinction between you and me.

S: all right, I’m calm now.

M: …that took a while.

S: I know what you’re going to say – and I’m not even letting YOU into this conversation – but yeah, I suppose if you can’t sweat in humid weather, crying is an option. Though there’s still a sore tangle in my chest somewhere.

K: I don’t even

S: I said I’m not letting you into this conversation! Get out!
So, yeah. What is all of this? Can you answer from this perspective?

M:…what exactly are the questions?

S: um…
1) Does the work itself trivialize atrocities?
2) Does the fan works trivialize atrocities?
3) Are the work itself and the fanworks part of a larger whole or must we talk about them separately?
4) If answering “yes” to 1 and/or 2, how much impact does fantasy have on real life? Does the collective fandom fantasizing make them not care about “what actually happened”? Does it make them (us) hypocrites or does it mean the human mind can take multiple perspectives? Another way of saying this is – are we cultural dupes?
5) Where do I draw the line personally?

K: evidently, line is pretty far down.

S: I didn’t ask you…

K: Why? Are you afraid of a liberal opinion?

M: “liberal”? Please.

S: Just ignore him.

M: I can make you think about the questions, but you really have to ask W and GX.

S: all right, talk to me about Karkolla then. Then I’ll ask them.

M: I already told you. It was pretty simple in my mind.

S: work with me here…

M: All right…well…I couldn’t go back, but it was a construct in my mind more than what was in actuality. You didn’t write the chapter yet, but I know that’s what you/I was thinking. And then…I don’t know…I felt like I didn’t deserve to go back. And maybe thinking they won’t accept me back was the excuse to cover feelings of inadequacy. I don’t know. But it’s not the same as…this. I wasn’t feeling embattled over the entire history of the place. As you said, I’m practical. I don’t think in those terms.

S: I guess…well…I guess I’ll let you go.
Um, I guess we haven’t really talking in this way before. And hello.

W: …no, we did not.

GX: Well. Once.

S: Oh, right. I remember. You know, this is so weird. I’m talking to a mental construct about a mental construct. Am I also a mental construct?

GX: I don’t think so.

M: I suggest you make use of their presence and stop asking them existential questions that you’re supposed to be asking me.

S: Ok…ok…so, the 5 questions above.

W:
1) Yes.
2) Yes.
3) You can do either. In fact, given your academic trajectory, you have to do both.
4) Fantasy certainly has a great deal to do with real life. If not, then your whole thesis is moot (S: Crap…). However, even you know that you can never expect force moving in one direction to pass on its energy unidirectionally. An analogy of this situation is the start of a game of billiards. If the author is the player, the ball he hits is his work, and the triangular collective of balls is the audience. Certainly he knows that the balls will scatter, but he cannot predict where they will go.
People are not cultural dupes.

S: But – the screenshot of all those…all those…..

W: Well, you have to ask whether those people were MADE like that by the work, or were they already like that to begin with.

S: That doesn’t change anything – even if you argue that the work doesn’t have any effect on them, the author and the fandom operators probably know that this sort of thing will happen. That there are crude and crass people out there who will take advantage of this arena and express negative behaviour.

W: Yes, that’s true. It’s like Stephanie said about videogames though. And there’s one thing in 4) that you haven’t asked.

S: True to your function, I guess. What haven’t I asked?

W: In the case of Zhao Wei and the Japanese flag – there’s something symbolic involved. The flag symbolizes imperial Japan. And so people who see her wearing it assumed that she endorses Japanese imperialism, or at least that she doesn’t mind it. The question you haven’t asked is whether it’s possible to draw such a straight line between a symbol and what it stands for.

GX: How could it not stand for…? If people perceive it standing in for Japanese imperialism, then for all intents and purposes it does. The act of seeing it as such makes it so.

S: Hold on:
>smz\\mks (#92000A, ctrl+alt+M)> says:
*thinks about this*
hmm have you heard about the incident a long time ago when the Zhao Wei actress wore a dress with the Japanese flag on it and upset a lot of people?
^*inNo^* says:
yes
that was dumb xD
>smz\\mks (#92000A, ctrl+alt+M)> says:
lol, of which party
^*inNo^* says:
both
hahaha
this is one of those things it requires 2 dumb parties for it to happen
>smz\\mks (#92000A, ctrl+alt+M)> says:
LOL
omg stephanie I love you
^*inNo^* says:
don’t u think so? o.O

W: Well, there you have it then. Two dumb parties. One didn’t register the symbolic at all and the other gave it too much weight.

S: I suppose.

W: And that brings in the “cultural dupes” argument. Some people are cultural dupes, but some people aren’t. Should the work have not gone into production, to protect the cultural dupes?

S: But that implies it’s done some good to outweigh what it makes the cultural dupes do.

W: Well, let’s consider that side later. Firstly, what sort of harm do you think the worst cultural dupe could do in this situation?

S: Well, suppose a fanfiction is actually written about the Rape of Nanking. And people enjoy it. What if that makes people…not care? I guess I’m asking whether people can separate these things in their minds. And whether you SHOULD separate these things.

W: Just like you should separate the fanwork and the actual work. Should you?

S: I’m asking you.

W: What do you think?

S: Um…I think that it’s both tied together and separate. Like the billiards example – it’s one motion to hit all the balls with the white one, but at the same time the white ball is separate from the other balls. So…it’s implied in the main work that these are directions fandom would go, but fandom needs to actualize it.

W: Right. So the work itself shouldn’t be banned?

S: Are you referring the South Korea incident? I think it should be published, and the citizens can choose to get pissed. But it should still get circulated. And you can certainly choose to hate one part of a work but not the rest of it.

W: Just you like problem with Orson Scott Card.

S: Right. I don’t agree with a lot of the things he writes, but I can’t ban them categorically. I mean, not showing Snow White because Hitler liked it…that’s the place it leads to if you’re going to be like that.

W: Then let me ask about the atrocities requested by the fandom.

S: Well, personally….I think that if I ever bring myself to read something like that, I am rational enough to separate the symbol from the actual, and the parts I enjoy from the parts I didn’t enjoy. But I’m worried that not everyone could.

W: I guess you answered 5).

S: Not quite…but getting there.

W: I think we can safely give people more credit.

S: yeah…?

W: Come, what has cultural studies taught you?

S: Well, that’s the point. This whole thing is throwing what I learned in cultural studies into doubt. To a certain extent I think people CAN separate the different concepts. The website I was just looking at case in point. In fact I think it’s almost impossible for people to see both of them together. I think maybe a failure of human intellect saves this whole business. When we look at that picture, we just see people. I mean, pornography is erotic because it features people. No one gets off on thinking about nations, really.

W: And that’s precisely where the good balances out the bad. Because at it’s best, it could make you actually care about nations in ways you never cared about them before. You were talking about a failure of human intellect – that’s another failure of human intellect, that people cannot get too abstract. Did a writer not once say that no one fights for abstract concepts like nationalism in the end? In war people fight because they remember their families. As you said, if everything related to a nation is distilled into one human being, that makes it so much easier to relate to. And it’s certainly done that to you.

S: I guess. And looking at the page I was just looking at…yeah, fans do great things, don’t they. All those deaths actualized in one scene with only two people. That really made me…yeah. But I’m still not prepared to look at anything too much related to WWII.

W: I’ll let GX take over.

S: Thanks…we need to talk about these things more.
Well, this is more relevant to you. Since this all took place when you were alive.

GX: Not WWII.

S: No, but the 8 nation alliance and…yeah. How do you feel about all of this?

GX: I’m the part of you that can’t bring yourself to look at certain fan sites. Even if I know that you, personally, can separate the two.

S: As I said, isn’t it strange? I always took you as the personification of everything that happened. And along comes another version.

GX: And which one are you going to keep?

S: Well, I made you up, so I guess I’ll keep you. I don’t quite feel right talking to someone else’s construct. And I don’t quite agree with that construct… though…I’ve looked for one for so long. And…in a way it vindicates me. Even if it’s a playground for rabid fangirling.

GX: The fangirling sort of amuses me.

S: Well, yeah, it would. But fangirling over…not so much. Actually, I wanted to ask specifically you – what do you think a nation means?

GX: What do you think?

S: Why are both of you asking me rhetorical questions?

GX: All right, to make this easier for you, maybe you should start with the work itself, and within the work itself, what a nation is NOT.

S:…Um. I guess obviously a nation isn’t the land, since they’re people. But they’re not the people of the nation either because they can co-exist. But in a way they are the land, since certain parts of their physical being corresponding to certain places. And a nation isn’t its soccer team, despite links to that effect…..Well, that led nowhere.

GX: On the contrary. You have established that the best link you an draw between a nation and its identity is the land.

S: But that raises another question. Because those “places” that are specified aren’t like…naturally occuring places. No one said someone’s blood vessel is a river or anything. The places are generally human-made things, like cities.

GX: Well, actually, certain places are islands.

S: Right, I forgot.

GX: No, still. It means that another link is that a nation is land plus the human cultural production upon the land.

S: That makes sense with the “resorts all over the world” part. And oh, a nation isn’t its leader either, because they can talk to each other…sorry.

GX: That isn’t something anyone should apologize for. I know I was never the nation.

S: But I’ve been thinking about this – nations change so much, depending on the rulers, the relations with other countries, and even how land shifts. How can they be characters? That implies that there’s some stable core across time.

M: Does it?

S:….never mind. Maybe not.

M: People don’t really have any “core” either. Of course, you can say people do, but then so do nations.

GX: Consider this, though. If a nation is not its people, and it is not their leaders either, then why are you afraid to look at certain pages?

S:…I don’t get the question.

W: Basically, we have three constructs here. There’s the nation in real life, what the real life nation means, and the characterization of the nation as a person, which embody some of what a real life nation means. Or rather, maybe the last needs to be a subset of multiple characterizations. What he is pointing out in that question is that your not looking at certain pages is predicated on the assumption that the personification at hand incorporates certain ideas of nation and not others, when in fact the assumption you are relying on might be wrong.

S: I guess a nation could be all of those things we went through. In its entirety. I guess that’s like the Endless in the Sandman right?

M: Perhaps. So they’re human constructs of concepts which have no definable boundaries.

W: To throw in another analogy, the relationship of the personification and the nation is like the relationship of the handles on a pair of scissors to its blade.

S: …I thought that up through you and I don’t even understand what that means.

M: Ah, they are intimately tied together yet are not the same thing. What one side does the other side also much immediately do. It’s an exact correspondence.

S: Isn’t it simpler to say that it’s like an object and its reflection?

W: But that metaphor is so hackneyed.

GX: And it implies that one is more real than the other.

S: Well, isn’t it? A nation is more real than its construct.

GX: What is a nation without its construct?

S: I know I know, but I mean, even if no one reflected on what a nation is, the nation still exists in its land, its culture, people, etc. Those exist apart from anyone’s conception of the nation. So one is more “real” than the other.

M: But can you really call those things aspects of a nation, if no one thinks they are?

W: If a tree falls in a forest…

S: Don’t go there, please. I thought you don’t like hackneyed comparisons. And when did this get so Lacanian?

W: Well, it’s true. A person’s idea of herself as a bounded individual depends upon looking in the mirror and using it to conceive an identity. So I guess maybe the mirror comparison wasn’t so hackneyed.

S: That doesn’t really solve the issue. I understand what you mean – if I assume that a country is only its land, then there’s nothing to feel bad about, because what can one mass of land do to another mass of land? But then there wouldn’t be these stories in the first place. Because I assume, and I presume that the author and fans also presume, that nations are to certain extent their governments, I am afraid of…international policy actualized as human interaction. Or people doing things to people.

GX: But have you considered whether in this particular personification of nation, instead of a nation being all of those things, they are none of those things? That they are just other people – very much unlike other people, but humans nonetheless – who have thoughts, emotions, and sensations which do not depend on what is happening to the nation?

S: That can’t be. Because otherwise why would they be the personification of a specific nation? If they are individuals then there is no link.

M: Isn’t it possible to have a link – say between the “core” of a nation and the “core” of its personification – but other things shift back and forth?

S: Like the country not wanting an alliance with another country even though the ruler does?

GX: Yes. And even needing to be held back so that the ruler could establish the alliance. What I am saying is – you are afraid of creations where there is great violence done by one country to another, and because you assume a link between the personification and the government, you think you will see the violence done willingly. What the violence is not willing? Remember the tears in his eyes.

S: Wow, then there won’t be a problem.

GX: Exactly.

S: No, there’s still a problem. I understand that not all fan works would make the link I made, but some of those requests clearly stated willing violence for the purpose of audience enjoyment.

K: No one’s making you read them.

GX: That is actually the elegant solution. Do not categorically refuse to study all permutations. Understand that there is no single link between a nation and its personification, and understand that different people will make different links. And if you come across something that troubles you, you must separate the two. If you are afraid of “cultural dupes” then start by not being one yourself. For everything you access you must look at what is behind the symbol and understand it, and look at it with a critical mind.

S: All right, I think I can do that.

GX: And you must do something that makes the symbol true to the actuality.

S: …what do you mean?

GX: The second part of mitigating cultural dupes is to balance out the atrocious requests by contributing genuine reflective material. Such as the one you were looking at today. Find something in history that you can work with and create something that will have the same effect on other people. Those are your tasks.

S: I accept. Thanks. Does this mean I have to do another lit review type of thing?

W: This being fandom and not an article, we won’t hold you to that.

S: Ha, thanks.

GX: And I can’t answer 5) either. You’d have to go back to M and K for that.

S: All right. Thank you so much. I suppose you continue looking after your own even after more than a century. Even if I’m no longer a citizen.

GX: This intrigues me.

M: So, was that productive?

S: Yeah, it was. But. 5). And yeah, both of you.

K: You’re only using me when you want to use me.

S: This is your hell/purgatory remember? Suck it up.

K: Well, if it were me, there’d be no line to draw.

S: Yeah, that sounds like you.

K: What? Didn’t you arrive at the conclusion that you could separate the two whatevers? So what’s the problem?

M: That’s a theoretical conclusion.

S: I still won’t feel right…

K: Well, you already did. So don’t act high and mighty because that WOULD make you a hypocrite.

S: I want to stop.

K: It’s circular logic. Wanting to stop is because you still think there’s something wrong with this. And you’re using that as justification to stop.

M: No, that won’t do. You can access everything out there but you must see something else behind it. Given the tasks you accepted, you have to.

K: Oh, comon…

S: Well, given the lack of a link between a nation and its personification, can’t I just be flexible and…?

M: No, you can’t.

S: I don’t know how else to express what I’m feeling. Look, I talked to the 4 of you today. I really really do not want to drag in two other constructs and interrogate them like this. As I said, they’re not my constructs.

M: If you’ve agreed that fan works are separate from the main work, and that each fan work is a permutation, why can’t they be your own permutations?

K: And didn’t we start off as being actual people in your life? Why don’t you feel guilty about –

S: Because you have no relation to the original person. But whatever construct I come up with definitely has links to the original personification, and also to the nation in its actuality. I don’t know what else to do, but I also don’t want to do a disservice to the nation or its initial personification.

K: I don’t think the author behind the initial personification minds. Think of everything out there already. Some of them are quite out there.

M: Granted, but there’s still the nation.

K: You can’t even come up with what a nation is. So how can you come up with what you’re hurting, if you’re hurting anything at all?

S: All I explored was what a nation was within the work. But in real life nation is its land, people, government, culture, history, etc, everything together. I’m not saying a personification will get offended because there is no personification. But taking all of that, the people, government, culture, history, and using it as….as…

M: If you’re too weak to get out of it, then you have to separate the two.

S: That’s another thing I can’t do. Well, for certain personifications, all I see is the character, and I don’t really think about the nation at all. But for some personifications, especially fleshed-out fan constructs, I can’t make that distinction. I’ve transcended the line of human intellectual failure and see them as characters AND nations. And grass really isn’t all that green.

K: Really, though, if I may – and this is what YOU were thinking –

S: No, don’t drag that
|R: I am a great nation, and far away, and you can’t hurt me.|

K: To think your own stupid imagination could actually hurt a nation – that’s sort of laughable.

M: Actually, that’s true. No, this doesn’t mean that I’m agreeing with you on other points. I don’t like it, but if you can’t…then…you can’t let it impact you when you are dealing with actual nations.

S: It won’t. It only makes me more emotional about them. And it makes me love them a lot more. Oh god, I feel terrible. I just want to curl up between the two of them and sleep for several years.

K: I thought it was us you wanted to curl up with.

S: Sorry, lately I haven’t even kept you two in mind much. But I’ll definitely come back to you, in the end. Because you are too personal to be forgotten.

M: As long as I have your assurance…

S: I don’t like it either. I’ll try not to. Well, maybe the emotions will wash over any situations where I’ll need to stop thinking about them. But it’s a good point – I’m really not hurting anyone by this…

K: No, you’re not.

M: Unless somewhere down the line you start believing an actual person as a personification of a nation.

S: I doubt that would happen. Well, I feel like perhaps Jewish people can be personifications of their culture, because they hold it so close. But that is precisely because they lacked a nation for so long.

M: Just…don’t…

S: No, I don’t think so. I have to overcome failures of human intellect.

W: The mind is willing, but the flesh is weak.

S: Yeah. Sorry.

M: That seems to be the crux of every problem.

S: That’s true.

K: Assuming there’s a difference between the two… If you’re talking about scissors, why not the mind being one end and the body being the other end?

M: ….

S: I don’t really know how to respond to that. That’s…really deep actually. Though we forgot one thing. The axis. The point at which the two ends meet.

M: That’s the point of overcoming the failure of human intellect, when it’s both sides.

S: But then I don’t want to be there all the time, right?

M: Right. Sometimes you need to see them as just fictional characters. You have to choose when you will be where.