8¢ cabbage

I'm just tickled by how in inexpensive this was :)

The Atlantic: Rising Protests in China

For me, living in China can be incredibly frustrating because I feel like I'm constantly in the dark about what's going on around me. 
The reasons for this include,
  -the obvious language and cultural barriers
  -the terms of my employment prohibiting me from engaging in the discussion of "touchy" topics
  -the government's control and censorship of unfavorable or incendiary  news stories
  -Chinese citizens general reluctance to discuss societal issues or the government in a negative way
  -or, noticeable socialization among Chinese citizens to be unconcerned with any socio-political forces that are not adversely affecting them personally
  -my students' wealth putting them on the oblivious side of the "widening income gap"

Anyway, The Atlantic recently published a list of images from recent demonstrations in China entitled,  Rising Protests in China, that's worth your time.

#38 Chinese police subdue a protester as over 1,500 people gather in front of government offices, throwing bottles and objects at police and breaking down the gate to the compound in Lichuan, central China's Hubei province, on June 9, 2011. Two officials were detained in central China after 1,500 protesters clashed with riot squads following the alleged death in police custody of a local legislator, state press said. (STR/AFP/Getty Images)

Public Mourning

The only thing I know about the mourning practices of Yancheng people is that the return of the deceased's ghost is involved somehow.

Also, enough flowers to block your doorway for a week.

That, and that for a short time, shop owners will put up flowers and pictures and whatnot in their shop to honor their loved ones. Sometimes their grief is so intense, it flows out into the street, like so:

Taken from my office window on the 9th floor, back in July.

See all those silver-foil circles (you might need to enlarge the photo) lined-up across the left-side of the street? They're used as memorial decorations, with concentric circles of fake flowers on the other side. The mourners essentially barricaded themselves behind the Chinese version of a wreath.

At the cemetery.

To say Chinese people love a good spectacle is like saying 90s-era Simpsons episodes were awesome---a massive understatement.

 Millennial episodes of The Simpsons -- the other reason for the Libyan uprising.

But the barricade and the crowd it inevitably drew was blocking traffic.

First came a couple "traffic cops," the impotent security guards of China's roads.
An actual police officer or two (underneath the #2) arrived second, with a band of muscle-in-black (to the right of the #2).
And third, they called in back-up, which arrived in the form of a cop car and two full police vans.

As the men-in-black assembled, and I eagerly switched to video to capture the showdown.

A whole bunch of nothing!

They got into formation, approached, and... stood around waiting. Eventually, the people were convinced to move their "protest" out of the street and the stormtroopers exited the scene. 

It was all so peaceful and anticlimactic.

Names, Part II: Baby Naming

A student once told me that she had recently visited her friend, who'd just had a baby. Here's the short-short exchange that followed:

Chelsea: 'Oh, how nice!! What's the baby's name?'

Student: [giving me a "duh" look] 'The baby has no name. It's only a few days old.'

Turns out, in China, it's traditional/common for new parents to take their baby to a fortune teller, who reads a child's spiritual stats, and then suggests a few auspicious names for the parents to pick from.

Here's one example-anecdote from a student:

The males in a family all had the character/word hǔ / 虎 in their given names. When a couple in the family had a new son, they took him to a fortune teller, who informed them that their son's metaphysical existence lacked water. So the parents followed his advice to instead name the child hú / 湖, a name with a different meaning, but the same base-syllabic pronunciation, and a character that included the water radical*, 氵.

Another student told me she and her husband were unusual in that they chose their children's names themselves.

My name on a wedding seating chart.

*Complex Chinese characters are usually formed from simpler, basic Chinese characters; when these basic characters are used to form new characters, they are called radicals.   
- For example 好, or "good," is constructed by combining the basic characters 女 "woman/girl" and 子 "child/boy". [The mnemonic is that it's good to have both a daughter and a son.]   
- Several characters change form slightly when they are used as radicals. The character for "water" is 水, but as a radical, it's written as 氵.

Names, Part I: I have the coolest Chinese name ever!!!

 When I took Chinese in the fall I had to come up with a Chinese name. 

 I'd already chosen my last name of course, 万 / Wàn, which I quickly settled on because of all the syllabic-options that sound congruous, 万 means "10,000," so I thought that was appropriate on account of the preexisting surname numerical pun. 

 But for my first name, surveying lists of possible female names turned up nothing so inspired. Pressed for time, I went for practical and chose 巧 / Qiǎo because it sounds vaguely like the first syllable of Chelsea. [This is easier to demonstrate via speech/audio, but if you think of /ow/ like in "now", then it's sort of like, chee-ow = che-el.] In the end it was a nonfunctional point, since in Chinese, the surname comes first, and the given name follows, so I was always addressed as Wàn Qiǎo.

 So not only were my operative intentions for my name futile, but practicality also earned me a name that, since it means "clever" and "skillful," is common and a little boring, according to the students I ran it by to ensure its suitability. 

I'd been using my name for about a month when, Melody, one of the Chinese tutors at my school, mentioned that qiǎo is usually used to describe someone who is skilled at making stuff with their hands. How appropriate is that?!?!?!

How to eat an atemoya

An atemoya is a funny looking fruit with a pleasant flavor. It tastes like a pineapple, if pineapple had a more subtle flavor, and was in absolutely no way tart. It's sweet and mild, and goes well with lime juice!

I didn't really find anything helpful online concerning the consumption process of an atemoya, so I'm taking the opportunity and making a How To, myself.


1. To judge ripeness, assess the skin around the stem. It's ready to eat when its soft and approaching discoloration. As you can see in the photos above and below, I let mine go too long and had to cut out spoiled bits.


2. Cut the fruit in half. Or quarters. Your call.

The brown, spoiled parts pretty much lifted out on their own. There was zero effort involved.

3. Pop out the seeds and discard.

4. Now, I wasn't sure how to go about removing the skin, so I tried two methods.

These pieces look the same but they're not: the left piece is convex, and the right piece is concave.

On the left, I used a paring knife to cut the skin off the fruit. On the right I used a paring knife to cut the fruit out of the skin. Cutting of the skin off is superior: it was quicker and I lost less fruit.

5. Once you remove the seeds and peel, you're good to go---eat up!

Little Emperors

If you've ever had a conversation with me about China, you know that I hate small children in China. I don't loathe children, nor do I detest Chinese children because I know it has little to do with nationality, but damn! the small children that modern, Chinese, parenting culture and the urban one-child policy have spawned are horrrrrible. A population of children allowed to do whatever, wherever, whenever, results in out-of-control, entitled brats.

The world of contemporary, well-off Chinese families: "Y" is for "yacht."

In China, the term associated with spoiled only-children is "little emperor syndrome," and believe me, it's an overtly noticeable phenomenon, even without prior knowledge of the established concept. [In other words, researchers who claim it doesn't exist are, to put it politely, full of it.]


Here are a few articles on the world of little emperors.

• NPR - the benefits and disadvantages of not having siblings - China's 'Little Emperors' Lucky, Yet Lonely In Life 
• NPR - the privileges and pressures of only children in China - China's Only Children Face Great Expectations
• Ministry of Tofu - a short piece about LE's from the Chinese perspective - Extinction of the Tiger Mom and Rise of (Not So Little) Emperors
• TIME - the future of Asian LE's - Tiger Cubs on the Prowl
• NPR - a theory about how being a little emperor is influencing China's rising divorce rates -  'Lightning Divorces' Strike China's 'Me Generation'
• Uncornered Market - an editorial piece I found online, which describes LEs and includes links to articles discussing similar problems in US families - China: So Many Little Emperors
  

Luna Cafe's Ultimate Vanilla Pudding (Perfect Stovetop Custard)

Ultimately I'd say not having an oven has negatively limited my cooking, but it has compelled me to get a little experimental with the stovetop (I never expected to be making toast in a frying pan), lower my expectations (stovetop granola just doesn't have the crunch that oven-baked granola does) and I've certainly taken advantage of the internet where and when I can. This pudding recipe is one example of internet gold.

I made this pudding again and again until I got it perfect. I've made classic vanilla; chocolate pudding with melted chocolate bars; brown sugar pudding with boiled brown sugar and butter; and key-lime pudding with key-lime powder from my Uncle Cory. It's quick, rich, and delicious!

Seriously, go make this now!!

LunaCafe’s Ultimate Vanilla Pudding – Chelsea’s Version Notes + Makes about 3 cups, or six ½-cup servings. + It isn’t required, but the inclusion of some cream makes for an exceptionally luscious pudding. + Adding butter apparently increases the richness, but I forgot the first time and haven’t used it since because, trust me, richness is not an issue with this recipe. + Cooking method: This might be worth cooking in a double-boiler. Because of the focused flame of my gas stovetop, I put the pot up on two stacked supports, to keep it off the powerful direct flame. I don’t know how the process might respond to a low-heat coil… Ingredients ·   4 large egg yolks ·   ½ cup sugar ·   4 tablespoon cornstarch ·   3/8 teaspoon fine sea salt ·   3 cups whole milk (or ¾ cup cream and 2¼ cups whole milk) ·   3 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, cut into 12 chunks ·   1½ teaspoon vanilla Directions 1.    In a small bowl, whisk egg yolks with ½ cup of the milk until well combined. Set aside. 2.    In a 3-quart saucepan, whisk together sugar, cornstarch, and salt, and then slowly whisk in the rest of the cold milk (2 ½ cups), a little at a time to ensure no lumps form. Scrape the bottom and sides of the saucepan with a heatproof silicon spatula. Stir in vanilla. 3.    Over low/medium heat, whisking constantly, bring to a bare simmer. Keeping it moving quickly is the easiest way to prevent lumps. 4.    Unless you have a helper to keep the milk moving, it’s advisable to turn off the heat for this next step and make sure the corn starch isn’t at a point where it will thicken on the bottom of the pan while not being stirred. – Then, ladle about ½ cup of the hot milk into the egg yolks and whisk rapidly in order to temper the egg and prevent curdling. Repeat twice. 5.    Whisk the yolk mixture into the saucepan. Turn the heat to medium-low and continue stirring the pudding until it thickens. Because the thickness will increases as it cools, it’s a little hard to predict what the final consistency will be. Try to turn off the heat when thickness is a little less than what you’d actually desire. [And if it ends up being too thick, whipping it in some sort of a mixer can lighten it up.] Remove from heat and stir in the butter until the butter is melted. Immediately pour the pudding into a medium mixing bowl or into single-serving ramekins. (If you think you may have lumps, pour the pudding through a single mesh strainer, using a plastic spatula to push the pudding through.) Quickly press a small piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the pudding to prevent a skin from forming. Let cool and refrigerate until chilled. Eating it hot, poured over another dessert, is also a delicious choice. Or frozen, like ice cream!