Now that I’m back, I’m going to spend some time commenting on things I observed, along with continuing to chronicle the trip. Today’s post is mostly about my observations of men and women in China.
My impression is that there is considerable equality among men and women in China, although of course men and women 
generally behave differently. I saw both men and women in all occupations–as professors, teachers, policemen, as guides, in retail, and selling fruit on the street. When I gave my talk and led a workshop for practicing elementary science teachers (yes, they specialize) at Huaxin Primary School in Jiangbei, Chongqing, I though I might detect a difference in how the male and female teachers interacted socially. We had a discussion about moon phenomena (e.g., what causes the phases, how do you get an eclipse, etc.) and the first person to share his ideas was a man, who stood up and gave a long soliloguy about everything he knew about the moon. Most of the women who shared (at least at that talk) gave more limited responses and made space for other people to talk. I asked Kitty later if she thought this was representative of a difference in the way men and women participate in groups. “No,” she said, “He just talks too much.”
I didn’t encounter many female taxi drivers, and it was rare to see a woman in a group like the one below from early morning in Beibei.
I posted this picture in my post on tea and coffee. These guys were always hanging out in groups on side streets in Beibei, Chongqing, Jiangbei, and Chengdu. I’m not a dumb guy, but it never crossed my mind to wonder why they were hanging out there. Finally, on my last day, and with Rachel’s help, I figured out that they were motorcycle-taxis. They wait there until someone comes looking for a fare. There are also little red three-wheeled taxis too. I did not see one woman driving any of the three types of taxis, but I did see many women on little scooters (especially in Chengdu) and occasionally driving motorcycles. Kitty and the students never took the motorcycles or the little red taxis–only the official yellow ones in Chongqing and green ones in Chengdu. I asked Rachel why not. “Too dangerous,” she said. I think the people I hung out with are stable enough financially to afford to ride in the respectable taxis, because I saw many people riding on the back of these motorcycle taxis–often with two people piled on back and usually, when it was raining, carrying an umbrella.
I snapped a shot of this scene when we were driving through the “countryside” (kind of like Silver Spring) on our way to the Golden
Knife Gorge this past Friday. I saw this many times, but it was often difficult to capture a shot. There are actually two women on the back of this motorcycle, clinging on tight and carrying the umbrella.
In general, men and women have very particular styles of dress. Men dress comfortably, loosely, with patterned button-down shirts and jeans or shorts, or with t-shirts, invariably stamped with English lettering or an English phrase or endorsement (“Just Do It!”). Virtually no one, neither men nor women, wears Chinese characters on their clothing unless they are wearing a uniform. I had great difficulty finding t-shirts with Chinese symbols or sayings for me and Noah. I found a few on Jinli Street, some more in downtown Chengdu, and a few at the airport in Beijing. But it was incredibly rare to see a Chinese person wearing one. I guess I want Chinese lettering on my clothing because it’s exotic. To Chinese people in Southwest China, it’s English that’s exotic. But still–we wear shirts with English lettering here all the time. It’s surprising considering that there is great reverence for the Chinese language, and you see Chinese sayings on buildings and around the cities. Like this one I saw on a building on our way to the hotel in Chengdu (translated by Rachel): “Honesty weighs heavier than the mountain Tai and harvest can only be garnered through hard efforts.”
Women dress in a lot of different styles, but a very common thing (at least in the summer in Southwest China) is to wear short (very) skirts with high-heeled wedges like these. You’ll see a young woman, in a short skirt and wedges, holding a parasol, and riding side-saddle on one of those motorcycle taxis, weaving its way in and out of traffic in Beibei, presumably on her way to work or class.
People exercise a lot outdoors, especially older people, and especially in the early morning. You can see some of this in my
earlier post “The People”. On our last day in Jinli, I took a walk in the early morning back through the enormous park that connected Jinli to the Wuhou Shrine and watched people walking, playing badminton and ping pong, doing Tai Chi, Kung Fu, and Qi Gong, massaging themselves around the head and neck, and dancing. You would see people of both sexes doing these things, and with dancing, you’d see men and women dancing together and women and women dancing together. I didn’t see men dancing together. Here’s a picture from when Kitty and I went looking for an open coffee shop in Beibei last Wednesday. (We couldn’t find one that opened before 11 and ended up back in Kitty’s office–hear more complaining about this in my post on tea and coffee).
You also are very likely to see women walking together on the street holding hands or with arms
linked, but not men. (Although I did capture this picture to the right–must’ve been something pretty
special, or heavy, in that case). It’s very sweet, and in a little book I got that’s all about understanding cultural differences in China, the authors claim that people do this often when they are standing in lines in crowds, or pushing to get on a train. Pushing to get on a train is a real thing–pushing is in general–Since I’ve been home I’ve had to force myself to say the obligatory “excuse me” if I need to move past someone. God forbid my body should brush against theirs! That warrants a profound apology. In China, it’s just about getting to the front. Maybe the linked arms thing is effective for not losing your family in one of these scrums, but I saw women doing it all the time, even just when walking around campus.
In general, in the States, women don’t look at me on the street. Sometimes they look up and catch my eye and smile, but I rarely get ogled. (Once I was at a conference in San Diego and my roommate was a very good looking, tall, well-built young man–I’m not saying who he is, some of you might know him–and I felt like women were staring at me as we walked to and from conference sessions and our hotel.) In China, everyone was ogling me, men and women. I saw very few Westerners in Chongqing and Chengdu, so I’m guessing it was the novelty of me and not my inherent attractiveness that made this happen. I can see how it could be uncomfortable–I know it is uncomfortable for women when they get ogled by men on the streets in the States, and when we were in Israel, the Ethiopian students felt like they were constantly being looked at. And then of course if you have anything that marks you as different (a disability, being very tall or short, thin or heavy) people look at you. I was a little uncomfortable at first, but I started to embrace it. I got in the habit of just staring back at people, or smiling, or even saying “Nihau!”. Kids were the most brazen of course. When we were in the train station in Chengdu, this little boy was staring at me and pointing me out to his father. He got his father’s attention and mine at the same time. We all three looked at each other–there was a brief uncomfortable pause, and then we all started laughing. It was my favorite ogling moment of the trip.
Another time, at the Wuhou Shrine, a boy, about 11-years-old or so, was staring at me. He nervously approached me and said, “Hello.” I asked him if he spoke English. “A little,” he said; he was learning in school. I wanted to try out my Chinese on someone easy, so I said, “Hen gaoxing tsien dao ni” (pleased to meet you). He stared at me blankly. I tried again. Nothing. I tried out the tones Li Qin had taught me: “Hen(down-up sound); gao(high tone); xing(downward tone)….” Still nothing. Finally Rachel stepped in and said EXACTLY WHAT I HAD SAID!! Or at least it sounded the same to me. A look of recognition came over his face and he said something in Chinese–then he went running back to his parents who looked pretty proud at their son’s English skills and bravery. I would have been proud too.
While Chinese women looked at me on the street, few ever smiled, and I’m pretty confident I was just getting the “exotic foreigner look.” I did get legitimately hit on in the Beijing airport though! Woohoo! I was buying a Kashmir scarf for Gemma (I know it is summertime–don’t judge me–she can wear it in the winter) and chatting with the saleswomen. One of them took her finger and dragged it across the hair on my arm–I thought that was pretty brazen–not only for a woman in China, but anywhere! She said something to the other woman in Chinese that I didn’t catch and then the other woman said, “shinga,” which happens to be one of the few words I know in Chinese–sexy. I told them I knew that word. They didn’t seem at all embarrassed, just smiled and handed me my change.
Last thing about men and women. I was complaining to Rachel that I hadn’t had any good strong tea (see my earlier post on tea and coffee). It was usually either just hot water, or hot water with a tiny little bit of bitter green tea, or if we were lucky, some light chrysanthemum tea or (at hot pot in Chongqing) a lovely light lemon-flavored tea. But mostly just hot water. I was trying to describe strong tea to Rachel, like strong black tea in England. “Oh yes,” she knew what I was talking about. “No, very few people drink that–only old men.”
Okay, at least I know where I fit into Chinese society. Thanks Rachel. Here’s the old man with Li Qin and Rachel at the Wuhou Shrine.
Darwin's Apostle 