Reflections of Chinese Culture An American Perspective

Out of all the field trip destinations, I was most surprised with the Old and New Summer Palaces. Just by viewing smaller community parks within Beijing, I noticed how significant a role these places play for residents, but it was not until I visited both Summer Palaces that I discovered how parks could generate such strong symbolic meaning. It should be noted that these are not typical parks—both are steeped in rich, complex history that makes their individual meanings all the more pronounced today.As the names imply, one has been preserved and the other restored. The Old Summer Palace, or Yuanming Yuan, was originally called the Imperial Gardens (tour guide Tom). In its prime, the Imperial Gardens were made from three smaller units; theGarden of Perfect Brightness proper, the Garden of Eternal Spring, and the ElegantSpring Garden which, together, created an area roughly five times the size of theForbidden City (Wikipedia). Built in the 18th and early 19th centuries by the Qing dynasty, emperors resided and handled many government affairs from here, using the Forbidden City within Beijing mainly for formal ceremonies (tour guide Tom, Wikipedia).Today, however, the Old Summer Palace stands as a wrecked symbol of foreign invasion and humility. During the Second Opium War of 1860, allied British and French forces looted the old Summer Palace to make up/extract revenge on the Chinese government for confiscating much of their opium. That same year, British troops set fire to more than 95% of the huge complex, which took about three days and 3,500 troops (tour guide Tom, Wikipedia). Hence, Yuanming Yuan is a much different place today. The part I visited was completely in ruins, the only remnants being badly damaged European-styled stonework. The day I visited was also during a draught, which emptied th e lake, giving the area’s geography an even more damaged appearance.After walking around the park for about an hour, I could imagine how grand and magnificent the area must have looked during the Qing dynasty, even without the European stone ruins. The lay of the land spoke volumes about what used to be here. Lakes, canals, vistas, pathways, tree allocation, and other geographic elements all work together to quietly suggest what was once here, before foreign invasion. I could tell that a sad mood fell over much of our group—even as Ben and Chris were tossing a baseball back and forth, the excitement level was at an all-time low. Everyone walked slowly and absorbed the remains that were once China’s most awe-inspiring garden complex.The decision to keep this destruction preserved seems obvious to me: The Chinese government wants this area to stand as a powerful reminder of what foreignersare capable of doing. This area must generate a powerful surge of nationality for many Chinese. It serves as a reminder as to what can happen when caught off guard and to encourage Chinese citizens to work hard and build a country strong enough to resist foreign assaults, in any shape or form.Walking with some of our group’s Chinese students, I noticed they s aid or did little, almost as if they were reliving the assault on their nationality. I had a similar experience last year when I visited Pearl Harbor—a locale with preserved destruction from a foreign assault. Like the destruction of the old Summer Palace, many years had gone by since then and now, but that is irrelevant—these attacks become symbols against nationalities, and like the British assault on the Summer Palace, the damage echoes far into generations. Hence, experiencing the Chinese students and faculty as they toured their country’s damaged Yuanming Yuan triggered kindred feelings within myself—I too visited a site on my homeland that bears the scars of foreign aggression. If their feelings were anything like mine at Pearl Harbor, they likely felt very bitter about what transpired, yet thankful they had the opportunity to visit a locale that inspires massive amounts of cultural unity.When we all left the Old Summer Palace, I wondered if the Chinese visitors’ senses of nationality had been strengthened, like mine after I left Pearl Harbor. I also wondered how many of the American students reflected on this, or a similar concept. Perhaps many of them would like to see the Chinese government restore the Old Summer Palace to its former glory. After the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center on9/11/2001, the last thing many Americans wanted to do was ―preserve the destruction.‖ Cleaning up the debris became a national obsession—I remember people flying to NewYork from all over the U.S. to help and many news stations covering the process regularly. I wondered if this was the viewpoint of many American students, the events four years ago chiseled so intricately into their minds, as they viewed the Old Summer Palace ruins.Such things are difficult to discuss openly, even from one American to another, hence I did not push such a weighted conversation on any of my classmates, American or Chinese. One Chinese student did approach me to discuss the assault on Yuanming Yuan. She asked me if t he park’s destruction made me feel angry and I said it did. I asked herin turn and she answered that it made her feel very angry. This initiated further discussion of other foreign assaults on her country, like the Japanese occupation during W.W. II. I was very surprised she wanted to have such a delicate conversation about this, especially since all the other Chinese students were so introverted during this time.As we were walking, the two of us quietly discussed W.W. II, our grandparents’ roles in that war, and the American decision to drop nuclear bombs on Japan. Being inthe park must have brought out these feelings within her, leaving me to conclude that this place has powerful, symbolic ties to the Chinese national psyche. This conversation also gave me a rare chance to rationalize what happened here from a Chinese perspective (Zhang Meng).Visiting the new Summer Palace also had a lasting impression on me. On the way to the New Summer Palace, our tour guide said foreigners also attacked this park during the Opium Wars. In an effort to rebuild this garden, Empress Cixi of the Qing dynasty embezzled money intended for the Chinese Navy (tour guide Tom). Though it can be seen as a symbol of imperial indulgence, the New Summer Palace has been called thebiggest and best-preserved royal garden in China. The New Summer Palace, or Yiheyuan (Garden of Peace and Harmony), consists mainly of Longevity Hill and Kunning Lake (tour guide Tom, Meimei).Most of the park consists of water, a popular attraction for visitors wanting to spend a day on the water. I saw many paddle boats and a few motorboats on the lake. Large ferry barges, made to look like colorful serpents, carried passengers across the lake for a small fee. The entirety of the park was mesmerizing—at every turn I found remarkable displays of geographic splendor. A far-stretching field of large water lilies in bloom, combined with a large lake atmosphere left a dramatic impression on the park’s landscape. This impression set the tone for the entire visit. All the scenery complimented the large lake very well—when asked what the main form of leisure is within the park, the most dominating observation I made was the massive number of small boats floating around. Most people were either out on the lake or walking alongside, gazing outward.I found it very hard to comprehend that such a large, beautiful park was originally meant for just one person, as did two Chine students when I asked them about it (Miaomiao and Meimei). I accepted their answers as a result of the change in Chinese governmental philosophy that occurred during the early 20th century. I wondered if Chinese citizens over 100 years ago would agree that such a park is too grand for just one person, even if that person was the ―so-called‖ child of heavenly mandate (Dr. Christine Hinz). Since the formation of the People’s Republic of China, it appears that ideologies of what someone should be entitled to, be that person an empress or not, have changed.Western influence may also have contributed. From that perspective, their answers were interesting yet, in a way, to be expected.Many of us wanted to see the Palace’s large, marble ship, yet I could sense a lessened state of enthusiasm from several Chinese students. I did not openly ask them about this because I thought maybe to them, the marble ship might represent a part of their history they might not be proud of. Since Empress Cixi embezzled money that was supposed to be used for the Chinese navy, the lone, immobile, ornamental, ship may also symbolize a weakened Chinese navy because in the years following the embezzlement, China suffered a large naval defeat from Japan in the Sino-Japanese War (tour guide Tom). This reflection may be far-fetched, but is the result of my efforts to rationalize why several of the Chinese students may not have bee so enthused to see the marble ship as the rest of my group.One New Summer Palace attraction the Chinese students seemed very eager to see was the giant ox guardian statue. Communication barriers aside, one of the Chinese students tried to recall the legend behind this statue to me in detail:The ―lucky ox‖ rests at the edge of the lake, emitting an aura that keeps many evil water spiritsfrom coming onto the mainland. Many visitors come to personally thank the statue for its long-standing protection (Meimei).I found it comforting to see a nation take legends like this and use them in creative, amusing ways, especially within a park that already establishes a brilliant sense of ―otherworldliness‖. I don’t often see Americans using stories like this in such creative public displays. I would like to see Americans utilize such creativity in our areas of cultural importance. Overall, I would like to see Americans pay more attention and detailto our inner city parks, which often seem painfully generic when compared to Chinese parks.From a Chinese perspective, I can easily see why this park is very popular—while it owes its current existence to governmental embezzlement, the park is well preserved in classic Chinese culture. Undoubtedly, this is a main focal point for many visitors. As the name suggests, the park also gives Beijing residents an excellent opportunity for summer recreation.While the Old and New Summer Palaces made a profound impression on me, I also found myself surprised with how inner city transportation functioned. Beijing has the widest variety of public transportation I’ve ever experienced. During my stay, I rode the subway, public bus, taxis, petty cabs (tricycle –based carts), a rental van, and walked via overpasses and subterranean walkways.The most striking aspect of inner city transportation is how Beijing motorists drive. This is where I did the most cultural comparing because the way Beijing motorists drive differs dramatically from more conservative American motorists. Pedestrians do not have the right of way in Beijing—cars seldom stop for people crossing the road. People on foot are always in danger of being hit by a motor vehicle. Other striking traffic aspects include driving and parking on sidewalks, vehicles at intersections all trying to cross at once, and even U-turns in the middle of a busy street—I saw a large bus get stuck between two lines of oncoming traffic while attempting a U-turn in the city. The driver looked very embarrassed as a blaring chorus of car horns honked in protest. Also, many Beijing motorists are compulsive horn honkers-- easily the most widely and often heard sound in the city.From an American standpoint, many U.S. members of my group found the irregular driving behaviors and repetitive horn blaring to be extremely excessive and annoying—a cultural contrast I doubt any of us truly got accustomed to during our stay. Since seemingly every Beijing motorist behaves in this way, these behaviors must have been embedded within the city’s culture for quite some time. With the rate of Beijing’s growing modern development, I would assume that more urban planning and construction will be needed to better handle the massive daily traffic congestions.At a lecture, I learned traffic in the future would go underground and utilize more overpasses but, like all new solutions, bring up their own unique problems as well, such as greater flood and earthquake liability (Zhou Shangyi). Like in America, geographical decision-making is never easy, especially when it concerns the safety of citizens. In this aspect, China and the U.S. share some common ground, especially in regards to earthquake-prone California.Unlike many American cities, however, inner Beijing is composed of several well-organized ―ring roads.‖ By utilizing this road pattern, city planners used careful geographic alignment to construct a city with highly efficient zonal distribution (Zhou Shangyi). This unique, spatial layout allowed for a simple subway plan, which consists of two tracks—the first going from one end of the city to the other and the other following a broad perimeter around the inner ring roads. Traveling by subway is popular, fast, cheap (three yuan per ticket), and relatively convenient. I enjoyed taking the subway and so did many of my group’s American and Chinese students.The public bus is also widely available and cheap (one yuan per ticket), yet tends to be more crowded, hot, uncomfort able, and slower. That doesn’t mean the public bus isa horrible mode of transportation—it is cheaper than subway travel and sometimes more convenient. Many people, including one Chinese student I spoke with, ride the bus every day (Shian). Given the choice, however, I prefer the subway.Along with the subway, another mode of transportation I frequently used was taxi cars. With a base price of ten yuan, taxis are more expensive than most public transportation yet, seem to be widely distributed throughout the city and, communication barriers with the drivers aside, can be a very direct mode of inner city travel. For me, and many American students, communication with taxi drivers consisted primarily of giving them a printed address and/or the use of frantic hand motions. Dealing with such severe communication barriers was more fun than frustrating, however, and enrichened my first experience as a foreigner. Taxis in Beijing come in two variations: older, rickety models with cramped interiors and newer, sleeker models that closely resemble American mid-sized cars. A Chinese student told me that the government wants all Beijing taxis to be of this newer quality by the year 2008 (Zhang Meng).I found that the taxi drivers in Beijing, like their American counterparts, could be some of the most aggressive drivers on the road. I compared my experiences with Beijing taxi drivers with what I’ve heard about American taxi drivers in cities like New York, where many drivers are immigrants and also speak little to no English. I reflected on how similar the language barriers might be, though I assume barriers in Beijing would be much more pronounced.As for the peddy cabs, I only used them once with my class. Peddy cab service seems widely distributed throughout the inner city, some riders being part of companies, others being independent. I feared they might not be a safe mode of transportation, so Inever tried them out on my own. Like many merchants, peddy cab riders seemed extremely eager to offer their services to me and would often follow me down the street. From an American perspective, I compared the peddy cab riders with other forms of lower class work, especially during extreme weather conditions. I doubt many American workers would be up for such a rigorous occupation.From a Chinese perspective, I can see why Beijing has such a wide variety of public transportation. Millions of residents do not own/cannot afford automobiles and need to get around the city. Having a variety of transportation services helps to reduce Beijing’s massive traffic congestion and air pollution. It also gives people several different methods of getting around because some transports may be better for certain situations or because people may get tired of taking the same mode all the time.Like the inner city traffic, another frequent form of culture shock came from constant communication barriers with many Chinese. Though this was to be expected, I found it to be more frustrating as I began to learn more Mandarin language because I knew some words but could not put them into complete sentences for more precise communicating. Knowing what I wanted to communicate with others, yet not having a clear avenue for dispersing the information turned some potentially promising conversations into moments of awkward confusion.Not only communicating, but just being a minority in a foreign environment comes with its own surprises. This was very interesting because in America, I was never a minority. In China, I got an excellent perspective on what it is like being different from everyone else. It felt very strange because people were always starring and judging, evenif they are not conscious of it—their curiosities can be felt and seen. Like in America, I suppose it is only natural to be curious about someone that is different.I seldom ever felt overly intimidated—just in large markets where flexible merchants saw me, assumed I was a rich foreigner, and began pestering me to shop. Most of the attention I received was amusing, like random Chinese women wanting me to pose in pictures with them or their children. I was surprised at how many Chinese were willing to interact with me. In America, it seems that many citizens hate dealing with foreigners because of the language barriers, but this wasn’t necessarily the case in China. Often, the Chinese interacting with me were just as amused throughout the ordeal as I was.With China going through so many rapid changes, many people seem very curious about differences. Ironically, I found common relations with many Chinese just on the grounds that both of us are foreign to one another, yet we still had the desire to share some common connection. I discovered this with some of the corner shop vendors around my hotel and especially with the Chinese students. When Kevin and I went to BNU with Meimei, Miamiao, and Shian, we played cards in a cafeteria and ended up playing the same card game for well over half an hour because it was the only game the five of us could mutually understand. At the corner stores, all the merchants automatically grabbed a bottle of water and smiled when I approached them because for a long time, this was the only product I knew how to ask for. Later on, I started to ask them for cola and beer in their native language, which brought around bigger smiles and excited hand clapping. Finally I asked a couple of them, in Mandarin, if they take credit cards, which made them howl with laughter.From a Chinese perspective, I think they thought I was very amusing. Not only did I look very different, but I also had to be very creative with the small handful of Mandarin phrases and acting skills I had, which would be amusing for any culture. They also seemed just as eager to learn from me as I was from them. Many of the Chinese people I met probably wanted a more accurate, personified depiction of what an American is like, as opposed to just being spoon-fed clichéd media stereotypes.It is very hard to label just three surprising themes. As a foreigner in an exotic locale, I felt bombarded with new surprises at every angle. I was often torn between judging everything by American norms and trying to perceive everything from a Chinese perspective. Inevitably, I found myself doing both simultaneously, making my field school experience all the more memorable. The intriguing histories and fateful outcomes of the Old and New Summer Palaces were the most astounding and surprising field trip destinations, especially when considering how they contrast one another in environment and mood. Inner city transportation held my attention from beginning to end, be it the beautiful simplicity of the subway system, or the intriguing, yet highly peculiar traffic ethics of motorists. My interactions with all Chinese residents began and ended with surprises, sharp language barriers aside.Saying that being part of SIUE’s Beijing Field School 2005 left an impression on my life is an understatement. In less than three weeks, my knowledge of language comprehension and geographic spatial distribution developed faster than any classroom environment could have aspired. What I have learned during my time in China’s ancient northern capital has increased my sense of international awareness into a broad new horizon.References BNU faculty/studentsZhou ShangyiMeimeiMiaomiaoShainZhang MengTour guideTomOther sourcesHinz, Christine, PhD./wiki/Summer_Palace。