non-fiction

Thanksgiving in Harbin – by Rachelle Felzien

A VERSION OF THIS STORY FIRST APPEARED IN FAR ENOUGH EAST

It was my first Thanksgiving in China, and in Harbin winter had just begun to hit full stride. At Wal-Mart, they had roast turkey on special and seasonal decorations taped to the glass of the deli display cases – Precious Moments-style pilgrims alongside piles of vegetables and fried silkworms.

Browsing in the bakery aisles, I was jolted by a tremendous kerfuffle at a nearby butcher’s stand, where a crowd was quickly gathering. All background activity fell to silence as onlookers settled into place, but my view was maddeningly obscured. I moved in closer to try and see.

The colonialists endure – by Alec Ash

Four years ago, Alec, a 23 year old student of Chinese at IUP in Tsinghua University, put his feet up on the train seat in front of him. The carriage was pretty empty, and he was dead beat. So he peeled back a corner of the smelly blue seat covering across from him, and plopped a worn pair of Merrells on the wood underneath. This redistributed the weight from his bony arse across his legs and back. It felt great.

Speed dating games on singles’ day – Alec Ash

Just as the cold winds sweep the last leaves off Beijing’s trees, Monday was “bare branch” day in China – 11/11 being an appropriate date to be dateless. Singles’ day (guanggunjie) is mostly about online shopping now, but retains the more traditional function of making all the single twigs feel inadequate. When I texted “What are you doing this guanggunjie?” to a handful of partnerless Chinese friends, I got back the same curt reply from three: “Sleeping.” I’ll know better than to ask next year.

There also was a spattering of singles’ events in Beijing last night. I went to one such meet-up, all in the name of youth culture research of course. In lieu of the regular Chinese Tuesdays post (Sunday’s FAQ on learning Mandarin hit that spot), and in addition to my post on this wider topic for Analects, I thought I’d write the night up.

How a silly dance I learnt in high school took on a life of its own in rural Yunnan – by Jessica Chong

Trapped in a wedding photo – by Jesse Field

"Looking at the flowers” – kan hua'r – was what I was told we'd be doing Saturday afternoon, in a field of lavender up in Huairou, north of Beijing. My newly installed "second year in China" mentality in place, I felt surprise without any real anticipation. I was ready to be jaded. In a sedan with two of YK's friends – a boy and girl his age, Li Ning and Yang Yang, silly in love with each other – I didn’t attempt to make conversation, though I followed theirs well enough, and answered cheerfully any questions they asked.