Saturday, March 02, 2013

"Make my funk the p-funk..."


it’s been a week of not feeling so hot about china.  this happens periodically.  It used to happen a lot more often, but this is my first bout of these issues since I quit the old job.  I need to find some tangible reasons to overanalyze my current funk.  Because this is what I do. 

There are the banal daily offenses—the spitting, the staring, the squatting (pissing AND shitting in public, thank you very much), the noise, the lack of space, getting on/off public transportation or elevators, “parenting”, etc. etc.  I think the “current funk” has more to do with the fact that another good friend left last week. 

I’d hung out with asha pretty much non-stop since I got back from my Christmas vacation.  I have always found it hard to relate to other chicks, probably due to the fact that the closest person to me (and also the most intelligent, rational, powerful, and goal-oriented person in my life) is my twin sister.  That hasn’t left a lot of room for error in my relationships with other women, which my track record of female friendships will support.  The fact that asha’s female is a real anomaly to me (not that her gender’s debate-able, but that I consider her a friend. a female friend).  I find it easy to befriend men, in meaningful or cursory capacities.  I’m not as forgiving of women as I am of men.  Again, I’m sure there are many reasons for this, but I’ll save that over-analysis for a different day.

Anyway, asha is the first actual friend I’ve had since the days of jake, carrie and Jesse in hangzhou.  And I’m such a good friend and communicator that I’ve only maintained contact with 33% of the hangzhou contingent.  

asha is, like Julie, intelligent, rational, powerful and goal-oriented.  And she was so willing to open herself up to new experiences and to allow herself to be vulnerable around the right people.  that’s something that china has sort of killed in me.  It hardens you from the inside out, while simultaneously destroying you emotionally.  But you can’t really show that, because you have to be “strong” to survive here as a foreign female.  all that upkeep and presentation is an exhausting and vicious cycle. 

So another strong female influence has left and I’m back to curling up into a little ball of myself (figuratively-speaking. Haven’t been stretching enough lately).  And that sucks.  It felt great to give and to trust and to be honest with someone.  that should happen far more often than it does.  One of the many shortcomings of human relationships--posturing adulthood without ever actualizing it.  Which I guess is also a pretty adult skill. 

I had never in my life considered gender and femininity as much as I did in the first week I was in china.  Korea had some real gender inequalities, too, but nothing to the degree I’ve experienced here.  I guess at this point I’ve more than doubled the time I spent in korea.  anyhoo…

I’ve been dwelling a lot on two things lately—the notions of identity and community. 

Community is one I think about every day, when the reality of being alien confronts you in every face you pass on the street.  You can see the words forming as soon as the people around you recognize that you’re not chinese.  For every instance of eye contact, the seconds that follow invariably include a whispered, or usually less-tactful arm slap, point and incredulous burst of two or three syllables--“laowai” or “waiguoren.” 

Then comes “she doesn’t understand” even though at this point no one has actually said anything that requires understanding, beyond what generally equates to pointing and screaming at someone.  yes, actually, I DO understand that. 

How many people do you pass on the street in a day?  How many people do you pass on the street in a day in the one of the most heavily-populated cities in china?  It’s insane when you try to process that.  And it never stops.  And it fucking beats you down.  But I make a lot of money for not a lot of work.  That’s my singular justification.  Really.  That’s it. 

The novelty of living in a city of a lot of chinese hillbillies wore off a long time ago.  The novelty of my existence, however, is unrelenting.   Shanghai is starting to sound pretty good.

I’ll save the identity talk for a later date.  Still need to process the theme.   also, nothing wrong with [attempted] brevity.  

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