Views: 47822|Replies: 76 Post time 2003-11-5 02:02:34
Reposted from China Daily
http://blog.chinadaily.com.cn/thread-16837-1-1.html
What makes Chinese Chinese
What makes Chinese Chinese, without which Chinese become substantially less Chinese? What are uniquely Chinese, without which Chinese are no longer Chinese?
Slowly China is climbing out its misery and humiliation that it suffered in the last two hundred years, more often than not, at the expense of its traditional cultures and values. It is therefore relevant to understand what makes Chinese Chinese. With such understanding, we will no longer live in the FEAR that we may turn ourselves into ‘Banana men”—Yellow skin with only white substance.
Please throw in any attribute, good or bad, glorious or shameful, sensible or stupid, that you think makes Chinese uniquely Chinese. If possible, please also tell us why the ones you contribute are uniquely Chinese.
Let's compile a list, and out of this list we may attempt to further identify the core Chinese attributes, without which Chinese would not be Chinese.
Finally, out of this core list, let's identify the ones that make Chinese beautiful and the ones make Chinese ugly, the ones should be kept, and the ones be abandoned.
Let’s see if we have enough talent and knowledge on this board to compile a decent list. This is a challenge to us all. Those who are not Chinese are particularly welcome to contribute for you see clearer from a distance with more rationality than emotion.
Thank you all for participation.
Post time 2003-11-8 23:42:40 |View the author only
Chinese Language & Superstition
Likely there is no single factor that makes a Chinese Chinese, but there must be some key factors, without even just one of which a Chinese becomes much less Chinese. Among such factors is, I think, the Chinese language in its various dialects, without which a person, regardless of one’s nationality, would be much less of a Chinese, for without it one is much less likely able to soak into a Chinese culture to be cultivated into a Chinese.
Another factor, less critical than the one above though, may be our superstition. We are a people quite afraid of the dead and ghosts, believing that the universe is roamed with ghostly spirits, which at any moment could come to do magic on us. Even in bright day light, few of us, definitely not me, dare to venture into a grave yard alone. My back immediately chills the moment I see a grave alone. You may laugh at me but it is one of the most deeply rooted psyche in me that I find impossible to explain.
For this reason, we are much more willing to believe magic power, not religious power but some unknown physics beyond our comprehension, such as the various super capacities claimed by some people with ‘GongFu’. We Chinese, including many most highly educated Chinese, are much inclined to lend these magicians a willing ear.
Post time 2003-11-9 00:01:10 |View the author only
My father's real story of superstition
By ‘superstition’ I mean how we Chinese fear that our world and life are somehow dominated by devils or spirits. To understand my experience, please read the story of how my mom reacted to the death of my brother in the thread entitled "Where food is dear life is cheap" at http://bbs.chinadaily.com.cn/forumpost.shtml?toppid=17987.
To listen to another story, please let's sit down to hear the story of my father.
He is now 75 years old. A few years ago, nearing his own time to go, he felt that he needed to pay a tribute to his own father, who died in the busy years of revolution, of both illness and starvation ( As a little school master in that poor village, he was locked up by the villagers.) while my father was fighting the war against the Americans in Korea (He was a Chinese instructor to army officers and never got the chance to kill anyone). Feeling so guilty he believed the only way to make up for his dad was to build him a respectable tomb with more than just a pile of yellow dirt.
Thus he made his first trip back to his home town village to conduct some preparation work, but his work was abruptly interrupted for he got a cold and a local doctor almost killed him with wrong medication.
Two years later, he recovered, and commissioned a set of tomb stones; he rented a truck and hired its driver to transport the 20 some pieces of stones (rather cheap in GuiZhou province where there is nothing but rocks, but the moving costs more) over one thousand kilometers of hilly road. A “FengShui” master was hired to select a date but not a single good date was found within months. Another master was hired for better luck, but again no good dates were found. My father had to retreat back one thousand kilometers, waiting for a better time.
A year later, a good date was found. Dragging his tired, old body, he traveled that hilly road, once more. Cheerfully they built the tomb for my grandfather, whom I never met for he passed away before I arrived.
But recently, my mother told me over the phone with her crying voice, “They destroyed your grandpa’s tomb!”. “Who? ” “Your uncles”.
In the past year, my father’s elder sister passed away, who had been sick for decades at the age of 81,
In that same year, my father’s elder brother passed away at the age of 78,
In that same year, a cousin of mine died in a car accident.
In this same year, the clan of my father’s family destroyed my grandpa’s tomb. They feared that his tomb sat at the wrong location, or faced the wrong direction, or was built at the wrong time, and for whatever unknown reasons was bringing bad luck to the entire clan. As such it must be destroyed, and so was my father’s dream and dying wish to pay a respectable tribute to his own father.
Their destruction of my grandpa's tomb is more violent than the behaviour of my mom, who felt the 'iron gate' that brought death to my little brother must be abandoned (again, please refer to the thread of “Where food is dear life is cheap” at http://bbs.chinadaily.com.cn/forumpost.shtml?toppid=17987.)
Stories of such superstition are abundant in many small towns or villages where 80% of Chinese population reside. In the last few decades, most of Chinese traditions have been erased (for better or worse) in the larger cities. To find the traditional ways of Chinese life you have to go to those small towns and to our parents or grand parents who are now in their 60-80’s.
Please share with us your true feeling and stories.
Thanks for reading.
Post time 2003-11-12 01:26:58 |View the author only
Without a formal religion, we worship ancestors
While all races worship their ancestors to some degrees, we Chinese excel or distinguish ourselves in this aspect. I remember even during the peak of the ‘cul_ture revolution’ years in the early 70’s, the homes of many of my elementary school classmates were still adorned with a not-so-ambiguous “香火”(Xiang Huo), a respectable and honorable place for our ancestors, which is typically located on the wall facing the front entrance of a house. In small towns, where space allows, most houses have a small hall (living room?) right behind the front entrance and all other rooms are located around this hall. The prime space in the hall is the wall facing the front entrance, which rightfully belongs to the ancestors. Typically some writings to indicate various recent ancestors specifically and more remote ones in general are placed on the wall together with other suitable decorations. A jar is also paced there to hold incense that is frequently burnt in any of the many Chinese festivals.
Recently, I notice in the city where my parents currently reside, many private houses, 3-5 stories tall, are caped with a magnificent “香火”(Xiang Huo) on the top of the building. The place of ancestor has thus adapted to the modern world and moved to a much higher place, literally, and may actually be called a private temple now. Every time we visit our parents, the very first thing to do is inform the ancestors we are coming for a visit and pay them a tribute. Incense is burnt, paper money burnt, and sacrifice (food, water and wine) offered. In front of our ancestors, the family knee down, one at a time by certain order, to wish them well and pray for their blessings. Finally fire crackers, many thousands of them, were cracked to send them on their way and possibly also to drive other unwelcome spirits away. This is part that gets my son most excited and gets remembered and talked about most among other activities of the entire trip.
Why do we worship our ancestors? My mom is the one most enthusiastic about it. She is not illiterate. In fact she once produced a graduation certificate of a nurse school from a place two thousand kilometers away from my home town, and earned a pay rise as an educated, which shocked us kids and the entire town. “My mom, with a nurse certificate?” Under the influence of the ‘Revolution Education’ I was also very critical of her ‘superstition’. But now as I am more educated (probably one of the most highly educated Chinese in terms cumulating degrees) I actually become more understanding of my mom, and become truly appreciating of my mom passing this Chinese tradition down in my family.
As age slowly catches up with me, I starts to understand the needs of my mom and other more traditional Chinese.
(1) Such worship is out of respect and love for our ancestors. We Chinese are not very affectionate people on surface, and perhaps we seldom show our love for our parents in any symbolic way once we pass our childhood age. Silently we watch each other toil till death. As our parents pass away, we start to feel sorry for them and miss them. Some way must be found to symbolize that feeling. Putting up a ‘香火”(Xiang Huo) is one such ways.
(2) Such worship is also out of fear. As I incline to believe that we Chinese are filled with fear of dead deep in our souls. If you talk to oversea Chinese, they typically will tell you how differently ghosts are treated in China and abroad. The westerners do not seem to have much fear of ghosts, but on the hand we Chinese would have chill in our back the moment we see a skeleton. (The situation may have slightly changed now in the big cities in China). It is our deep belief that a dead would turn into something, its spirit would persist, and it is capable of performing physical tricks on the alive.
In 1975, the grandma of one of my classmates passed away. After many days’ procession performed by a paid ‘道士’ (Dao shi, a Taoist?), she was finally buried, but on that very evening, straw ashes was spread in her house to capture her footprints for it is believed that she would turn into something that would always come back to say a final goodbye. But since it is a spirit, the alive must get out of the way to avoid it or otherwise misfortune will follow whoever encounters such a newly formed spirit. (It is called “还魂)
Invariably, footprints of cats or dogs were captured most often, followed by those of hens or other domestic animals.
(3) Such worship is also out of the desire for good luck. Facing so many uncertainties in life, feeling so vulnerable in this brutal world, a Chinese needs all the helps s/he could get. My mom would pray for my safety every time she learns that I am going to take a flight. After the death of my brother she prays even more, both in frequency and in sincerity (please refer to ‘Where food is dear life cheap’ for more info at http://bbs.chinadaily.com.cn/forumpost.shtml?toppid=17988), for in her world, there is really no one else who could help her in her struggle.
However, when good luck does not show up or a bad luck strikes, a Chinese man can also turn into very disrespectful of ancestors, to the point of destroying their tombs. To a Chinese, worship of ancestors and other religions is more for the material needs of the alive, not the dead. Please also read posting above entitled “My father's real story of superstition” for more details.
(4) Finally it is likely out of a religious need. Chinese is a people without a formal religion, an attribute I view more as a positive than negative. But time and again we would encounter forces quite beyond our comprehension, such as death, and in such occasions there is nothing but religion that can comfort us our pains and our wounds. Without a formal religion, worship of ancestor appears to fill in our needs well.
(Note: Buddhist and Taoists are not uncommon in China, but their religions have not captured the souls of most Chinese. Most Chinese are also quite turned off by other religions that are too exclusive for the taste of Chinese, for they all tend self proclaim as the only Right One and their god the only true gold, and typically they always attempt to conquer other religions for their own domination of the world or the human race. Please forgive me if my view is offensive to you. I am not a religious person and am only trying to understand why Chinese are not so religious on one hand but worship their ancestors so religiously on the other ).
Post time 2003-11-15 07:48:35 |View the author only
Without Laws, we litigated with our tongues or fists_part one
Chinese traditionally were ruled by the wills of emperors rather than by laws. The battle between the rule of laws and the rule of wills had been fought since Confucius’s time, but the legalist (法家) lost and the Confucius’s followers triumphed. I am in no position to comment on whether this outcome was positive or negative for the Chinese, but the consequence was clear that we became a people ruled without rules, and its effect on us can be felt in our most trivial daily life.
Without the rule of laws, we resorted to fists or tongues rather than litigation.
It was, may still be, quite common in a traditional Chinese neighbourhood to find citizens quarrelling or fighting to resolve their disputes. In my childhood years, the scene was quite familiar of someone’s mom or grandma crying, shouting, and lashing out at a neighbor on the street for the purpose of protesting against some unfair practice by that neighbor ( it s called 骂街). When a dispute occurred without a resolution, the one feeling improperly compensated typically went to the public, on the street, loudly protesting with loud cries, tears and often half-hearted empty threats, as other neighbors watched. Often the other side would wisely shut the doors to avoid a direct confrontation, but occasionally confrontation did break out in the form of shouting match or, worse, wrestling or scratching. As emotions calmed down, or simply becoming too exhausted, the protester felt being compensated by the humiliation on the other side, and justice was thus served.
Until fairly recently, Chinese did not think of laws as a means to resolve disputes. Traditionally the function of litigation was performed by family clan, neighbors, village elders, guild associations, or workplace in the modern days. My father was a little manager overseeing one hundred workers, who would come to chat with my father almost every evening when they were not rounded up to study revolutionary politics. All sorts of private matters or disputes between workers or neighbors were arbitrated by this supposedly neutral leader of the company.
While the quarrelling or even wrestling between women was usually harmless, the fights between men can be deadly. Once in 1974, two of my 4th grade classmates got into a fight, and the parents of both sides were called for, one being the vice-principal of our school, taller and stronger, and the other shorter and smaller. Encouraged by his physique the stronger one threw a punch and badly bruised and bled the smaller’s left eye. However, being well connected with his relatives in the villages in the country, the smaller one was able to mobilize an entire village and the villagers rushed into town with all sorts of farming tools as weapons. Fully aware of the danger, the vice-principal and his family fled, quickly letting out the word that they were willing to apologize and offer financial compensation. A war was thus avoided.
Isn’t there some kind of policing force in that small town? Yes, in fact they were well paid and enjoyed a high status since they were the only few who could carry a pistol. Somehow they were not terribly interested in disputes between citizens for they were fully occupied by other more significant crimes, the ones that were committed against the state. Stealing money from a state-owned company, for example, can get you a death penalty easily. The chill was vividly felt when our parents talked about how one of the workers in their company earned his death after he was found stealing RMB10,000 (the equivalent of 300 times of his monthly salary) from the shop he was managing. His family was also charged for the cost of the 3 bullets. The father of a girl in my class in elementary school earned the same fate for a similar crime.
Even if the police did take the time to mind the citizen’s business, there was little guidance or laws they could follow, and little incentive for them to enforce such guidance or laws, unless one of the concerned was well connected.
The most terrifying incident ever happened in that small town was the death of a young man, who was said to be a very nice and gentle person. Somehow, he got into a fight, got kicked at his private part , and died! The victim’s family carried his body, paraded through the streets, and finally placed it in the hall of the killer’s home.
[to be continued in part 2]
Post time 2003-11-15 08:07:42 |View the author only
Without Laws, we litigated with our tongues or fists_part two
[continue from part one]
The entire town was boiled and frightened, not knowing what was going to happen next. After many days’ turmoil, the dead was buried without much fanfare, and no charged was filed. Somehow it was privately settled with the victim’s family being financially compensated.
In retrospect, I cannot help wondering why such a serious matter was not litigated through some kind of legal means. On one hand, the citizens might not trust the legal system and on the other the police did not know what to do either. When things really got out of hand, the local party leader might be called to arbitrate.
At this point, I am immensely curious of how historically a county magistrate (县官) settled disputes in his territory. Did he have a set of legal codes that he could follow? Apparently not. Stories are abundant that who and who was such a good magistrate and thus ruled wisely, apparently all by his consciousness rather than by the code of laws.
By now you may be rather tired of the backward, remote little town in GuiZhou province. So let's fly across time and space into 1987’s Beijing, away from those barbarians to greet our well educated college students and citizens.
Right at the front gate of the famous park of Xiang Shan (香山 Fragrant Mountain?), we, a group of postgraduate students from Tsinghua University, unknowingly got in the way of a group of factory workers who were taking photos. Before we realized the trouble, the much bigger factory workers pounced on us and an imminent ma_ssacre of college students by factory workers was about to happen. As we all chickened out and started fleeing for our life, one of us stood up, and within 2 seconds, he knocked down a factory worker, who dropped on the ground as if he had suddenly lost all his bones. Quickly we, the little ones, rallied to chase down the other factory workers.
Finally, a few plain-cloth policemen showed up and arrested us. When we started to complain that we were attacked first and were merely defending ourselves, they told us they had been watching the show from the very beginning. Nevertheless, our heroic deed was much talked about on Tsinghua campus for it was one of the few historical moments in Tsinghua when a bunch of factory workers were defeated by a group of physically inferior students. None of us felt any embracement or shame for breaking the laws, and got our hero in j_a_i_l (he was released after 10 days of detention and we each paid RMB 25 for the medical bill of the injured).
Breaking laws? What laws?
It was a generally accepted practice in the 80’s in Beijing that whenever got into a dispute, one was to first judge the size of the other party and decide to fight or flee with humiliation. There was never a third alternative, at least not in our minds.
When caught, a theft was not turned to the police; instead, he was typically let go or beaten up badly, sometimes inhumanely. When caught shoplifting, a theft was not punished by legal means; in stead, he was handed over to his work place, leaving the punishment to the will of the party leader of that work place.
Thus, without laws, or without trust in whatever laws did exist, women litigated with their tongues and men with thier fists.
Thanks for reading again. Please share with us your views or stories.
