虎浮出水面。 新的十年已经在西方，在中国，我们是在没有人的土地，太阳能和农历新年之间的牛和老虎之间，再次。 它是时间回过头来看看我们所处的位置。

几十年来在世界政治中的时间测量，许多人会请中国十年的00。 这只是一个简化，这10年不过78开始在一个较长的过程的一部分，并可能仍然持续另一个十年多。 然而，如果我们要选择一个事件，标志着在世界政治中的十年，像冷战的结束标志着20世纪90年代，中国的崛起是最合理的选择。 没有其他的事件很可能被在世界历史上更果断。

在今年年底前版的第一篇文章中，我们证明了，在十年内成长趋势，2008年中国在世界媒体的存在是一个高峰期，而2009年已经恢复到相对正常的水平。 此峰不能隐藏大势所趋，中国的增长不可避免地成为一个世界超级大国，它已经改变了人类的力量平衡。

测量的中国十年

如果我们要选择一个参数来衡量这一上升，这是经济，可以给我们最好的线索。 有没有去十年的发展趋势进行分析时，小数点，这样的计算是简单的：中国已经成长约7％的速度比西方国家在过去十年中，一切似乎表明 ，这将继续到10。

计算*很简单：1.07 ^ 10 = 2

率在7％，差一年，中国的经济相对西方国家的经济规模是每十年增加一倍。 今天，大多数的国内生产总值的地方，中国之间的1/4和1/2的美国经济，取决于如果是在名义国内生产总值或以购买力平价计算的估计。 这意味着，如果不出意外在未来十年的变化，中国经济将是随时随地与2020年和2030年在世界最大的。

这一计算的后果是巨大的，他们今天已经运行。 这是因为在政治上，我们就像在股市的表现决定是考虑到可预见的未来，而不是现在。 在世界政治中，中国已经取代欧盟，即使是欧洲经济的一小部分，即使它并不想成为主角。 媒体和政客对中国的未来价值投注。

“十年”的问题

当然，没有任何担保，00的增长模式将继续在10s。 有一个重要的思想学校坚持对中国的制度不可持续的。 他们提到腐败，不平等现象日益加剧，缺乏公民权利和公民社会的创造力和自由市场的镇压，无法建立世界一流的品牌和金融体系处于混乱状态，在其他问题，以证明他们的预测，迟早中国经济必然崩溃。

我们这些在中国生活和工作的认识，这些问题是严重的，很真实，上下行某处有注定是一个严重的调整。 然而，相同的预测已作出定期几乎每年都在过去的三十年，和崩溃没有兑现。

这个十年真正的问题是什么时候？

中国经济将停止增长之前或之后，它已成为一个超级大国如美国的大？ 将中国认真地要求更多的权利和自由之前或之后，中国已成为一个发达的国家呢？ 会做的经济和政治的调整将逐步与新一代中国领导人，或会有爆炸危险在这十年？

我们不会有今天这个答案，你不应该相信任何人声称他们的中国问题专家。 所有我们能做的是帧上面的问题，并观看回答它在未来几年内的早期迹象。

不过，有一个声明，我们可以今天。 纵观世界，这是显而易见的，许多重要的球员已经对中国的崛起投注，这一观点被每年收集更多的支持。 正如我们上面看到的，在某种程度上，在世界上的大多数认为在超级大国的情况下，中国已经是一个超级大国。 政权是在国内生产总值提前几年，世界新秩序的今天已经是一个事实。

照片： 埃里克Risberg

*这是一个工程师的计算，任何严重的数学家的恶梦。 然而，大多数的桥梁，我们做的是仍然站立，当我们谈到十年的趋势什么比这更准确的是一个笑话。

我已经离开了一会儿，因为我所有的假期时间已经由上海的两个有趣的故事，其中的一个电视连续剧，另一种新型吸收。

串行是WoJu，蜗牛的家，愚蠢地翻译成英文为的窄Dwellingness，或任何。 它已经在中国红热，因为其在11月的第一次广播。 爱丽丝刘单位“和“ 优酷Buzz博客最近遮盖。

由于这些博客指出，这一直是最具爆炸性的成功，我们还记得在中国的电视连续剧。 在不到一个月的时间里，它引发了激烈的辩论，在互联网上，吸引了数百万在线和关闭，并用了可怕的手检查员。 其快速成功的原因之一是有关的问题，买房子，正好碰到年轻的中国观众当场的中心主题。

但是Woju是远远比房地产和腐败的故事。 这是一个扣人心弦的戏剧，丰富的次要情节不断发展具有非常现实的字符填充，围绕一个中心三角恋。 近代中国社会的一个尖锐的批评，是迄今为止我曾经看到大陆电视上最好的产品。 最初它是一种新型的中国作家 ，我们应该看未来，更加紧密地溜溜，在2007年出版的。

下面是我的串行的印象，现在我已经完成了第15章。 我将集中在两个主要的兴趣点：希望了解中国的人的信息内容，并独立于其他因素的产品质量。 最后也是我观察，审查和其他相关的一些有趣的事情。

内容

这个序列是中国通，有抱负的中国问题专家的天堂。 任何试图了解中国的人都应该看它。 如果字符是不完全真实（没有小说可以永远）他们的忧虑，他们的问题和他们的动机是一个高保真的扩增，中国移动今天的年轻公民的反射。 它是浓缩了中国的现实。

我们一直在说过去几年的所有元素都存在，不是一个单一的一个缺失：关系建设，干部的二奶（爱好者），上海男人欺负自己的妻子的，谁也看不出他们的婴儿，非法工作的父母高息贷款，开发商和地方官员之间shanghaiers和外界的冲突，一夜之间丰富的温州，新中国的道德，拆迁或“摧毁”，“钉子人”谁抵制，移动之间的相互勾结山寨手机......你说出它。

和所有是如此精确，你甚至可以看到多少的人物都在自己的工作收入，高利贷什么兴趣问，要花多少钱的党的干部要得到他的第一个小二奶（情人）。

肯定有更好的书，描绘了在过去的中国社会，但主体正在发生变化如此之快，他们都是过时的。 我不认为有任何其他的小说今天的工作，更准确地反映在大约2010年的上海社会。

“你好，我是市委局局长宋（我只是shagged你的女朋友）”

如果你正在学习中国，该系列产品是一个伟大的地道的普通话双MUST。 如果你不是，然后站在与英文字幕的DVD，希望海盗一个人翻译这一次与他的托福水平。 这肯定是有市场，如果他们与电影明年政府不制止它，我也不会感到惊讶。

质量

但更重要的是比上述所有产品的质量。 这是很好的小说和良好的娱乐。

故事是由强烈的爱情三角形的中心美丽的女演员扮演，年轻的海藻李念 。 上面列出的所有元素，包括房地产热潮的赢家和输，倾向于解决此爱/恨的故事，在接触了两个不同的世界：laobaixing干部，中国城市的两个类。

但也许是最好的串行方面，中国电视上呼吸新鲜空气，是绝对缺乏对公众的道德教训。 这里没有英雄或恶棍。 贪婪的开发商，难耐徒劳的妻子，缩头缩脑上海的丈夫，神秘，蛮横的上海姑娘李念饰演。 他们每个人只是人类的弱点，并和我们一样的野心。 他们每个人都可以以最好的和最坏的。

即使是贪官，是人之常情。 一个软弱的人在中年危机，在他手中的权力太大，不检查自己的行为和系统。 腐败，象爱情一样，发生的事件的自然过程，一个病态的社会​​和个人的邪恶计划不结果。 和绛州，为上海代表中国谭，是强大的旋风行动，其中的所有字符绝望漂泊。

检查

这并不奇怪，串行一直由政府审查。 然而，它已被审查的方式，罢工我假正经，如果不能清楚地白痴。

因为我现在是在欧洲，我已经能够观看YouTube上的串行和审查一个中国网站优酷上的比较。 有没有对图像的审查以上，其中上海市委官员公然与男友聊天的女孩，他刚刚被强奸免费使用他的政治力量。

相反，下面的图片进行审查：

看到原来的场景，下面审查的版本，在中国所示。

这是第一个串行正确的性场面。 在原始版本中，您会看到在屏幕的四分之一海藻呻吟的脸，而其他的图像对应到各自的妻子和男友，谁是在家里，担心自己的亲人，而他们正在做奥运类的乌龟。

是海藻的呻吟脸更比上面显示的快乐先生宋淫秽？ 画出自己的后果。 同样有趣的是要注意生产者参加在审查过程中，火爆的场面，不仅切出，但编辑和取代其他原稿放大图像在上面的妻子。

其他细节和问题

我会回来当我与串行更多细节，但目前我有2个问题，为市民，特别是许多中国人，我知道是谁已经观看了整个35章：

1 - 串行秀为什么如此显着的海藻“Coogle”shanzhaied电话，它只是使其更现实，或者是报复，因为谷歌拒绝赞助？

2 - 有一个阴谋的一部分，我只是不明白：海藻是处女，当她第一次与宋睡觉，如果她已与男友多年的生活吗？ 这是一个阴谋的差距，还是我错过了一些严重和令人担忧的中国文化元素？

看看我今天在我的信箱中发现什么。 “露齿兔儿童情商训练营的广告！”

那些有足够的耐心，坚持这个博客你可能还记得去年我在中国的普及self-help/business书籍后 ，特别是那些与情绪智能（EQ）。 并不奇怪，我们说，在这个社会里的教育系统是无情的，替代的R.Goleman的情商的概念是千百万中国几乎宗教信仰欢迎。

但不知何故，我觉得他们都搞错了。

在营地的计划包括课程领导，控制情绪，增强竞争力，决心和其他可怕的项目之间的社交。 访问难民营的最低年龄是3岁，和小册子是不准确描述游戏，而是从一开始的铁杆情商培训。 它看起来非常成功，在中国已开放的10个中心，你可以看到下面的地图。

小女孩学习解除像胡锦涛的手

现在我不意味着要更加表露无疑比是严格必要在这个博客上，恐怕我可能会从一个很欧洲的角度看这。 我告诉记者，在美国以及在中国，人们相信这些东西，我尊重你，如果你这样做。

但家长们：请让孩子玩，结识新朋友，关于小弄堂形成带徘徊亡命徒 ，像坚果上海的士大院周围骑自行车，并用受伤的膝盖和一颗牙齿在口袋里，回家每隔一周。 这将会给他们EQ的负荷。 我作为一个孩子，看我现在，一手运行Chinayouren。

我只是不能等待获得一个“古怪的鼠标下的小册子， 移动你的奶酪为幼儿夏令营“

上星期五，我写了一个很长的职位，我结束了包括太多的想法。 的主要点位了，结果掩盖，但它是简单地此：在学习一门语言，词汇起着至关重要的作用，不仅是因为中国这个极其困难的先进水平，但也越来越难与时间。

我不认为这是开创性的研究，但有趣的是，因为大多数人都没有意识到这一点，也对在悫语言和政治两个领域，我们要培养这个博客的限制其影响。 下面是结论充分的论据，例子和详细信息，请参阅以前的职位 ，其意见：

• 要学习一种新语言所需的主要知识是在三个方面：语法，语音和词汇。 语法和语音不同，基本上是从词汇中，前两个是无限的情况下适用的规则，而后者则是原始数据。 我们可以打电话给他们的语言代码和数据元素。 代码元素是有限的，而不是增长。 几乎是无限的和不断增长的数据元素，它不完全掌握母语甚至点。

• 学习一种语言时，代码元素发挥至关重要的作用水平在初级和中级，但先进水平的通信真正的障碍，因此进步是数据。 例如，在德国先进的学生有时可能会使用错误的词尾变化，并在西班牙，他们可能无法区分“RR / R”的声音。 这些东西往往不妨碍沟通，因为人类的语言是高度冗余。 我永远不会明白“佩罗”（但是）当一位发言者说，“perro”（狗）。 最终，在代码元素的含量口音相同的缺陷：大部分的时候，他们仅作为元数据相关。

• 但同时一定程度以上的代码是高度冗余，数据仍然在每一个级别所必需的。 从这个伟大的文章 ：借用短语“浴池找到有效的治疗静脉炎”是毫无意义的名词一方或双方是未知的。 缺少一个单一的词往往可以掩盖整个段落或文章的含义。

• 被动的话在现实生活中使用的数量远远超过了典型的语言水平标准名单。 这是因为半专业词汇，如离子 ，J acuzzi或矩阵不包括词汇表，因为它们被认为是太罕见了。 当然这些话是很少使用，但有这么多，作为一个整体，他们其实很经常使用。 这个数据元素是如此之大，不能在教室里的记忆，并获得它的唯一途径是通过多年的浸泡。

• 为什么大多数语言学习者从未意识到这个问题的原因是因为他们是“欺骗”。 在世界上的大多数语言中，这个高层次的词汇几乎是相同的，它并不需要学习。 有一定的限制水平为每一种语言以上的最现代的词是国际和数据是没有更具体的语言。

• 这个词汇衔接的限制水平为每一种语言不同，但它没有这么多的依赖于语言的家庭或原产地域，而是取决于的大小和的扬声器社会的发展。 这是中级以上是非常容易的原因，即使非印欧语系语言，如巴斯克：社区是不是大到足以支持复杂的条款，所有更高的数据是从国际通过。 大多数人往往误解和太重视语言家庭的概念，他们来到这个荒谬的名单，如。

• 国际化的词汇越来越多，在电信和全球化的进展，尤其是因为，英语已成为科研的唯一语言。 在科学发明新的瑞典方面，例如，有小点，当所有的科学界的读/写他们的论文中英文。 通常情况下，尽管在政治努力，以促进本地的词汇，语言的经济恢复更高的数据传输回Internationalese。

• 这是唯一一个在世界上的语言，历史，政治和人口的原因，一直保持这一趋势的一个例外：语言是中文（普通话，粤语或其他人，这里是无关紧要的差异）。 它构成了高层次的数据并行系统，在其余的Word共同很少说话。 日本和韩国是他们借鉴中国和国际体系，但现代的话越来越国际和这些语言的融合，其余部分例外。

• 除此之外，中国有一个可笑的困难的书写系统，其功能的语音脚本缺乏独特。 这种化合物的词汇问题：不仅有更多的学习比在任何其他语言的话，但每个字包含更多的信息，因为它需要与其相应的字符相关。

• 此外，因为没有标准化的方式来抄写外国专有名词，甚至地方和个人的名字往往被“翻译”成中文，有时完全离开原来的语音，并成为中国在自己的权利名称。 这增加了在中国的语言已经非常庞大的数据元素。

这一切都需要我们的结论：中国是最困难的语言，在一个高层次的学习，无论学生的起源。

这是特别有趣，因为到现在为止这个问题的正确答案是：“取决于你自己的母语”。 与日本/韩国学生可能是个例外，这个职位需要，中国实际上是别人最难的。 成反比的是，它也很难对中国学习其他语言，虽然这是由其他语言功能的语音脚本的事实减轻。

另外一个有趣的结论：中国不仅很难，它实际上是越来越困难。

随着世界变得越来越相互关联和技术占据了我们的生活更加重要组成部分，新的半专业词汇在日常语言中的增加部分。 参照国际概念，如“垃圾邮件”或“等离子电视”的表达式，越来越多地指的是当地的文化遗产表达的地方。 在这个意义上，我们可以说，在世界上所有的语言都趋同，而中国是一个岛国，其余所有分歧。

再有，我们可以从中得出的政治结论，但我致力于写短职位，因此，我们将离开的第二天。 欢迎评论和更正我的论点以上。

也有一些，虽然不是来自中国，使他们成为当地文化的一部分，由中国彻底拥抱的信念。 一个例子是佛教从印度进口，在远古时代。 另外一个，我已经找到了，是现代管理大师的教学，从美国进口的。

有趣的是，中国分析师如何继续解释所有社会现象与儒家传统，当它在我看来，必须至少有作为有影响力的时下的Johnsonian和Golemanian思想。 走进任何一个中国书店或退房当地海盗的三轮车，自我完善和奶酪管理 职称规则最高。 面前的桌子上的glossiest和最具流动性的书籍喜欢的：“训练自己，开始下一个谷歌”，“我是怎样从一个完整的白痴改变自己一家财富500强的CEO”，或“我建了一个公司的收购该公司在上一本书“白痴。

现在，我要提醒你这一点：上述的标题可能不是100％准确的，我在外地的自我完善文盲。 由于狂妄自大，自封的自由思想家，我能不能帮助对这些作品的几乎classist排斥，甚至对我皱眉 三轮车，卖他们。 在我多年的老欧洲，我高兴地留下来，从个人生产力的仪式。 但自从我搬到了中国，新的理念，被潜伏在每一个短语之交，所有抵抗是徒劳。

在交谈中最经常出现的概念之一，是EQ或情商，在其1995年由D.Goleman创造畅销书 。 中国分拆后的几十多年来，它已成为这里的日常生活的表达。 这并不奇怪，像EQ的思路应该是如此受欢迎，在中国竞争激烈的系统，它提供了一些急需的安慰：不要担心，如果你没有使之成为一个顶级的统一 - 书上说 - 因为它是不是智商，而是情商，将决定你的未来。 两人的IQ / EQ在中国也被称为智商/情商（智尚/青商），虽然我觉得是比较常用的英文缩写。

每当情商在谈话中，我想指出，这个概念是不科学的，特别是在松散形式，它是用在这里。 我wikipedic博学但始终未能打动当地人，我已经看到我的情商在多个场合简易分析。 这发生在我的第一次是在与我的同事佳，否则明亮的工程师的午餐，我在中国逗留的第一年。 我还记得它几乎淋漓尽致：

- ULN，中国是不错的。
- 谢谢 - 我忽略了它。 注释是标准的普通话破冰船。
- 你有一个很好的智商 - 他继续。
- 嗯，谢谢，你也不会坏。
- 是的，但。
- 但是呢？ -

他看着我的眼睛目不转睛。 它必须一直被称为“坦率的积极有力的”情感的书362页的表达。 当已建立的外观，他着手：

- IQ是不够好。
- 无？
- 不，你应该看你的情商。
- 你的意思是，阿Q，鲁迅吗？
- 不，我的意思是情商。
- 那么，是谁写的，一个呢？
- 没有任何人。
- 这不是一本书吗？
- 这是许多书籍。
- 是什么好？
- 在这里听。 EQ是什么解释了为什么一些低智商的人在生活中获得更高的智商比别人！
- 你的意思是，像关系。
- 不一样，情绪智力。
- 啊，我还以为......
- 广西只是它的一部分。 EQ是你的技能得到生活！
- 我看。

但我没有看到。 人类的关系和非技术技能是必要的职业生涯中是一个很明显的事情，我应该像一个胡思乱想的旧机动车检查我的参数是一个完全不同的一个。

- 你的智商是好的 - 他坚持 - 但是你应该看你的情商。
- 像什么？
- 就像有总部平仓，这将是一个为您的事业的好棋。
- 什么？
- 一个企业的水平位置是利用你的外籍经验的方式。
- 但我不想住在巴黎！
-你看，这是EQ。

我开始感到有点恼火的理念。 我经受另一种“移情积极渗透”当我绘制我的反击。

- 所以，为什么你不申请去巴黎自己吗？ - 我终于说。
- 什么，我？
- 是的，当然，你有更多的经验！
- 但我不是一个外籍！
- 那么，它不是必需的。
- 你知道，ULN - 他略微停顿了一下 - 我有我的孩子要照顾。
- 有家庭套餐。
- 她永远不会让我，我的公婆会杀了我！
- 哈！ 我说胜利 - 你应该看你的EQ！
- 但我已经这样做了！！

而这一次，他迅速扭过头去，遗忘的EQ看起来，仿佛隐藏着一些可耻的思想。 但为时已晚，我已经抓到他了。 这回轮到我拉线程。

- 佳呢？
- 真的吗？
- 你是相当严重的，对这个EQ吧？
- 呃，我......我可以做什么。
- 在公司建立良好的关系，是一个很好的策略，对吗？
- 呃...... 你可能会说。
- 就像在总部的一个朋友，例如，对不对？
- 咦？ 不，不，我当然没有说......我不会...
- 佳呢？
- 嗯？
- 你有一个很好的情商，贾庆林，你知道吗？
- 哦，哈哈，不，不，谢谢，你有一个很好的智商......

因此，奥巴马是在中国，即使他是不是我的总统，他仍然是我最喜欢的总统。 这里是我的第一手访问的分析。

最重要的新闻，令人惊讶了注意，所有观察员的是，奥巴马想成为欧洲在中国广西巴马。 这是我读新的拼写他的名字在字符，通过该网站提出白宫 ：

欧巴马（oubama）将取代奥巴马，其中欧汉字欧洲，​​使中国的名字听起来像欧巴马。

也许有人会说，新的拼写选择更大的拼音相似，或者是因为它是在台湾的标准，但是当政治家听取语言学家？ 欧元奥巴马命名有明确的政治动机，并在该项目中我看到了光明的未来。

我觉得我说话的时候我说，我们非常高兴地看到，在执行这个计划终于大量的欧洲人。 奥巴马先生，请扫除一堆不称职的总统和总理，并成为欧洲联盟的国王。 然后，也许在下次会议上与中国可以代表我们团结的利益，而不是让每个欧洲部落中共发送其小的可怜的行政巧妙地划分和操纵A LA “孙子兵法 。

我喜欢的是欧洲的事情之一是，你可以对UE进行彻底爱国，无人问津。 亲爱的华盛顿邮报的评论员，请不用担心了。 美国是不是尚未下降，也不会是很长一段时间。 除其他原因，因为它需要的是太无能团结在国际政治中的欧洲国家。 而事实上，当中国人看到奥巴马，他们看到尽可能多的西方领导人，因为他们看到的美国领导人。 因为从这里看到，西，欧洲，美洲，或欧美研究（欧美）的概念从未所有不同。

这个重要的地缘政治考虑后，可以继续读什么是阅读访问。 基本上没有，因为没有真正的新闻已经出现的是，大多数记者和博客都在其列，他们的最好，以填补与中国泛泛。 除了上面的链接，有趣的问题是：

• 奥巴马将“ 人权观察“的黑监狱和其他人权问题的报告发表评论？ 当然，这不会发生，没有更多的比胡锦涛将阐述新的理论，解放西藏。 但有趣的是辩论的缘故。

• 也许更可能的是，他提到了环境，这个博客建议 。 我敢肯定，两国领导人会提到它，其实，不同的是有多少承诺将来自会议。 从无声世界的其余部分，我们将拭目以待，看2个巨人，如果最终决定，使一招，并退出其油烟发送到我们​​的后院。

• 最后，还有很多文章说奥巴马狂热，并作出了大不了的，因为在选举之前已在中国流传Obamao图标。 我的看法是，年轻的现代中国人往往喜欢奥巴马，他是轻微比布什更受欢迎。 但有没有这样的事情，我们在欧洲看到的Obamania和这里大多数人采取“观望”的冷立场。 分钟欧也提到了一些微妙的问题，或遇到一些老喇嘛，它会采取不超过一分钟以及措辞的中央电视台新闻抹成稀薄的空气Obamania。

所以已经退出Obamaos，并给我一些Eurobamas，我们越来越厌倦了政治，在这个大陆的另一边。

我已经意识到最近，由于在我培训的某些不平衡的方法 ，我的中文阅读能力可能会跑在前面，我的发言，我已经被迫采取严厉的纠正措施。 在风险变成一个SM的博客，我今天发言可怕的忏悔，我对自己的规定，以使该错误。 振奋自己：我看了整个22小时的共产主义电视连续剧在央视所有在一个星期停下来了解每一个字，成渝，。

It is the latest super production of the “Red Army against Capitalists” kind, called 冷箭 , or “Stab in the back”. The first chapter was launched the day of the 60th Anniversary, on CCTV 1 prime time, proving that it was born to be big. Even if it didn't live up to expectations (it was switched later to CCTV 8 nights), I am guessing that more people have watched this than the “Foundation of the Republic” film that so excited Western minds. Admittedly, there is little buzz on the internet about 冷箭, but that is just because the target audience is a different (and much larger) group than the internet community. My own investigations with taxi drivers indicate that it had a very strong following, at least in the first weeks.

For all those who complained about political propaganda in the “Foundation of the Republic” (or in Independence Day, for that matter), those are just amateur efforts next to this “Stab in the Back”. Because the Stab is not concerned with distorting facts, but with edifying and providing a complete moral system for the people. And like most of these widely watched Chinese TV serials, it still follows loyally in the spirit of the first moralizing plays organized by the 1930s partisans in Shaanxi.

A Little Critique

Regarding artistic merit, I will just briefly say that, although this looks like one of the highest budget “Red Army” serials to date, an improvement in quality does not follow. The main problem is the visible incompetence of its producers and actors almost without exception. Knowing that Chinese are very well capable of doing good films when they are given some freedom, I can only suppose this is the result of dead imaginations bureaucratically selected and nurtured by CCTV mummy-cadres.

In this case the main story is about — surprise– a Long March towards the West, where the Captain discovers that there is a Capitalist enemy spy infiltrated in the team. In fact not only one, but two, and three, and more are found in every chapter, until by the end of the serial the largest part of the brigade are actually undercover agents. This gives the poor captain played by borderline Huang Zhizhong countless occasions to run his fits of histrionic paranoia, apparently a main selling point. One can't help wondering why all those spies don't just get together to kill their clownish captain, rename their brigade with the KMT star, and get on with their counter-revolutionary business.

I don't know if you have experienced this before when watching a film, but it is one of those instances when deplorable script and performance manage to kill the suspension of disbelief right from the first sequence. Then, suddenly, you find yourself watching a bunch of adult people walking around in funny clothes and uttering pointless nonsense. The result is embarrassing.

I have never been much of a TV watcher, but I do understand that TV films are substandard anywhere in the World, and nonsensical plots or braindead dialogs are by no means exclusive of China. Even the fixation with the deeds of the Red Army marching West is not necessarily more ridiculous than, say, the fixation with illiterate cow herders during the golden age of Westerns. But there is something in these Chinese serials that makes them unique beyond the obvious propaganda and quality issues, and that is the complete set of values that they embody for the edification of the masses.

Edifying the Masses: A Communist Catechism

This is the first time, (and most surely the last) that I watch a complete Chinese propaganda serial, but I believe that the effort is not wasted. Because only getting inside these long works one can appreciate that deeper level that flows underneath, the construction of a public moral system that is very much akin to Religious Instruction .

Here are a few of the points I noted while watching the Stab, for the benefit of those who want to understand these works without throwing 22+ hours of their life down the drain:

• Love: The scenes of love are tacky to nauseate an armored brigade, with perhaps the best example in this scene in minute 40 chapter 4, when the captain “falls in love”. In general, love among the communists is virtuous and innocent, and always secondary to the interests of the organization. There is not the slightest romantic indulgence, no concessions to passion other than for the party. When the communist lover is told that her beloved is a Capitalist spy, she abandons him on the spot, and volunteers to kill him if necessary.

• Sex: Of course, this puritanism does not stop the young lieutenant from having proper sex (under the sheets) starting chapter 25, in a clear effort by the authors to attract more audience. “乱搞男女关系!” (disorderly do man-woman relations!!) chastely exclaims the captain when he gets the news through a disgustingly virtuous informer. But worry not, the ethical purity is safeguarded. These two sinners have betrayed the higher cause, and they receive their deserved punishment without further delay: death at the hands of some brigands.

• Violence: We have seen enough of the likes of Eastwood in Alcatraz to have some expectations about the frightful fate of new prison inmates (especially if they are male!). I don't know to what extent this violence is consistent with reality, but what I am pretty sure is that prison wardens do not tell off the inmates screaming “don't be naughty”, and major disputes in the common cells are not settled through pillow fights. This is exactly how things are done in 冷箭, making the whole experience for the high level KMT prisoners like a children's Summer Camp. This is one of the most puzzling parts of the communist ethics, and the most difficult to grasp in a movement that was imposed largely through violent revolution. It seems to come from a belief in molding mentalities through peaceful labour, but, as we will see below, it has little to do with the Christian notion of “turning your other cheek”.

• Class virtue: Virtue is presented as a characteristic of the proletarian class, and salvation must necessarily follow. Like the ancient Christians looking for consolation in the Bible before they were thrown to the lions, so the Chinese Laobaixing today seem to find solace in these serials, while they wait for the next corrupt CCP cadre to come and tear their homes to serve a rich developer. The notion of a Final Judgment that accompanies this kind of teaching is represented through the iconic verses of the Internationale, sung at several points in the serial, with the main theme conspicuously inspired in the melody of the first verse.

• Forgiveness and Revenge: There is an appalling scene of revenge (ch 31 38:00) when the main spies are apprehended, that completely shocked me after 20 hours of mellow bloodless harmony. The righteous blows of the officers are completely devoid of mercy, enjoying the raw pleasure of revenge. In my observation of the Chinese, this represents very well the paradox of their ethical system: Chinese are by nature far more tolerant than any Western people, but –perhaps as a necessary consequence – once a certain level of crime is attained, this sets off a mechanism of ruthless punishment where the object ceases to be seen as human. This is perhaps the most important difference with Christian influenced ethics, where our less tolerant natures were softened by the love doctrines of the New Testament. The whole discussion of d eath penalty in China vs. Europe is an interesting modern development of this difference in outlooks.

Some Conclusions

There are many ideas here worth commenting further, perhaps one of the most interesting would be to see how this communist system of ethics is working (or failing) to keep the always delicate balance between 道德 (virtue) and Deng Xiaoping's 致富 (getting rich).

Clearly, Chinese are not the only ones to introduce ethics into their TV serials. Popular Western serials have long been educating us with teachings as varied as respect for minorities, tolerance of homosexuality, patriotism or democracy. But crucially, while the Western system of moral instruction has evolved with the times and deals with problems facing today's society, the Chinese system has remained stuck in the 1930s, with the characteristic rigidity of Religious ethics . As a consequence, there is a growing, insurmountable gap in China between the ideas preached and the real needs of the ordinary citizens. This may be having the catastrophic effect of eliminating all ethics from mainland Chinese life.

When we speak of problems like perceived racism, corruption, lack of respect for the public goods or environment, how much of these are related to a lack of a realistic, up-to-date moral support, or to the hijacking of ethics to serve the single interests of the CCP power elite?

I would like to say more about this, but unfortunately this post has got out of control already, and I know nobody reads past the first 1000 words. Write your ideas below about any particular point and if we get some interesting discussion going on we can try to expand the subject in a new post.

I know, I should be studying right now, and not writing posts. But I was just breathing slightly between two sessions of 模拟考试, and I reflected on the fascinating process of learning a new language, and on how, when you have been through it a few times, you end up developing your own secret methods to climb up the long steep ladder.

My approach to learning Chinese this year is based on the one I used with my previous languages: The reading method. It can only be used starting from intermediate level. In the case of mandarin, I would say this is not before 2 years of studying at a normal rate.

The method consists of acquiring first a minimum level of vocabulary to understand most simple texts, and from that point on dedicate your study time to the pleasant hobby of reading novels as captivating as possible. If you are a bookworm like me this works very well, because you end up putting in far more hours of study (reading) than you would if it were normal exercises. I know there are also many resources to read Chinese on the internet with cursor translator included, but computers tend to distract your attention very fast, whereas reading a good book gets your eyes glued to the characters for hours on end.

The result of this method is that you end up with a vast passive vocabulary and excellent character recognition abilities. Then it is up to you in your socializing time to go out and try to use these words in conversation, at the risk of locals saying you sound pompous. Sometimes you can even lift full phrases from a novel, and it is fun when you manage to use them in real life. For example, when I was reading Lu Xun's “AhQ” I placed neatly my favourite line:

Little Yi:我讨厌我的老板，怎么办?

Uln:你先估量对手，口讷的你便骂，力气小的你便打。

Little Yi:天哪！

Uln:怎么啦？

Little Yi:你又在练习！

Uln:我？没有啊。。。

Admittedly, my use of the method is a bit radical. But the social phase is an essential part of it, because once you have used a word a couple of times successfully, it quickly moves into your active vocabulary, and after that it rarely leaves you again. This is only practicable if you live in a Chinese environment, it never worked when I was back in Europe.

Reading speed

The key tipping point in the reading method is that moment when you realize that you can read a story fast enough to actually enjoy it. This is a function not only of your knowledge of characters/words, but also of the interest of the book and of your own personal nerdiness. When I read my first novel “Brothers” last year, I was so excited to taste the Chinese popular literary style that I gladly spent two months ploughing through the 700 pages of chengyu-ridden Yu Hua.

Since then, I have much increased my reading speed, to a point where I can sustainably read non-fiction without falling asleep. The preparation for the high-speed requirements of the HSK has helped me a lot for this, and I must say that, in spite of all my ranting in the previous post , it does make sense to force students a bit. Because the ability to read characters at normal native speeds is one of the most difficult to acquire, in my opinion.

Note that, when I say speed, I am not referring to the speed that comes from knowing all the words in the text. It is obvious that by using less the dictionary it is possible to read faster. My point is that, even for simple texts where all the words are familiar, I still read almost 3 times slower than a native Chinese, even after 1 year of reading books. This is an issue that has appeared only when studying Chinese, and not in any of my previous languages that used latin script, so I have strong reasons to think that it is tied to the use of characters.

I think it probably has to do with the way the brain processes the characters, and the way people schooled in Chinese from an early age have developed differently in this field. The post about reverse pinyin last week pointed me in this direction, and a few experiments I have done with my Chinese neighbours as well. I hope I have the time to write a bit more about this next week.

In the meantime, if there is a non-native advanced reader out there, I would like to hear your experience. Does it eventually get better, and do you manage to read at the same speed as the Chinese? Or do you have the same problem I note here? Let me know.

OK, off-line I go again. I already missed all Tuesday and Wednesday in an absurd meeting in Changsha so I need to catch up. I'll be back after the HSK, if I haven't showed up by Monday call the fire brigade.

First impressions are usually mistaken, but they are also interesting because the eye is alert to any novelty, and the culture clash is rich with ideas. Warning: this post contains sweeping generalizations. Take it for what it is, and if you are serious about understanding Japan you might want to look somewhere else.

I came to Japan quite randomly, I wanted to spend the holidays in a quiet and relaxing place, and in the week of the Chinese National Day, Japan seemed the only place near enough with the right conditions. I am preparing for the high level HSK later this month, and the plan was to take a few hours a day to practise my characters.

I chose the South of Japan on purpose, with the vague idea that they would probably be a bit more relaxed than in the North, and therefore more suited to my Southern European nature. I soon found out my assumption was wrong. For one reason, there seems to be no such a thing as “South Japan”. Although this place is clearly in the South, they call it West Japan. And the character of the people here is diametrically opposed to any notion of latin indulgence I might have harboured.

The cultural shock came right from the first contact. It was the passport controller at the airport of Fukuoka. I had been given the immigration card in the airplane and, like usual, I had quickly filled my “address on destination” box with a lazy “Hotel Nagasaki”. I couldn't remember the real name of the hotel, and anyway these things are never checked in any reasonable country. In Japan they are. And that is how I met my second Japanese.

“What did you write in this box?,” said the inspector when I was led to his office, pointing at the place in my card.

“Hotel Nagasaki?” I said.

“There is no hotel by this name”.

“No, no, I didn't mean it literally,” I explained, “It is short for 'a hotel in Nagasaki'.”

“Reservation receipt please?”

“Er.. it is in my mailbox, I haven't printed it out.”

And they took me to a series of offices until they found a place where I could connect to the internet and produce my hostel reservation from hostelworld. This took about an hour, enough to convince them that I was a dangerous outlier, so the inspector led me to the searching department.

My third Japanese was an older man who did the most meticulous search I have seen in my life, even feeling with his bare fingers all along the sole of my well seasoned travel socks. He searched into every possible hiding place in my bags and my body, except for that precise one that you were just imagining.

All the while, the three of them -my first three Japanese - treated me with scrupulous respect, constantly smiling, and polite to the point of scary.

One of the things that was shocking in my first dealings in the shops is the “hi!” sound that they emit all the time, to say hello or to hand you something. It comes constantly and accurately, timed like a semiquaver, dressing any human exchange with a singular martial tone. But the most awe inspiring feature is their absolute, compulsive, anal obsession with cleanliness. This country must be the cleanest place I have seen in the World by a large margin.

I came to this conclusion during lunch in one Western cafe in Nagasaki, were I witnessed some peculiar behaviour. It was raining outside, and every time a new client finished paying his order, the cashier walked around the bar with a clean tissue and bent down to wipe the drops of water left by the client's shoes. A completely unreasonable action, even for safety purposes, because the other side of the cafe next to the entrance door was permanently wet and left unwiped.

The only explanation, I figured after a while, was that the entrance area was out of the field of vision of the cashier, hidden by the tables. It wasn'ta safety procedure, it was just that she just could not bear the sight of some drops of water on the spotless floor in front of the bar, even if it was almost pure H2O from the immaculate street outside.

I am impressed by this aspect of the Japanese culture, and I wonder how the thousands of Japanese living in Shanghai cope with the hygiene situation there. I guess this explains why, being by far the largest foreign community in Shanghai, we see so little of them. They must all stick to their Gubei compounds and restaurants and avoid leaving the area unless it is strictly necessary.

The service in the restaurants here is excellent, and the food is prepared with so much care that you actually feel sorry to eat it. The Japanese like things well done, and they manage because, like most Chinese, they are very hard workers. But there is an essential difference in the motivations: Chinese exert themselves for a dream, to buy a car or a better house, or just to avoid being left behind by their fast ecoomy. Japanese already have all those things. Like Westerners, they have little left to dream that can be bought with money. So it seems that they work for the sake of work well done, out of a strong sense of duty and perfection.

When I came to Japan, I was prepared to find meticulous people who revere order. I thought it would be somehow similar to Germany, and although that kind of country is not exactly my idea of fun, it definitely fitted the bill for my week of retirement and study. But Japan is not even comparable to Germany. As far as I have seen it goes further in the field of obsession, to an extreme that for a newcomer -a Southern European one, at any rate- feels like borderline pathologic.

I don't want to judge the character of the different peoples. Each culture has its own ways, and all is well as long as we get along. I just wonder if the little world of efficiency and perfection that the Japanese have built around them is not but an exhausting illusion, and if, somewhere in the middle of all their productive activity, they find the time to think of what is important and just enjoy. The people I am meeting here–starting from the fourth one– are positive and friendly, and I have no reason to suspect they are not contented.

I have just been speaking with a PhD in electro microscopy who is in Nagasaki for a World congress in the field. He tells me that more than half of the participants are German and Japanese, because these two countries rule in electro microscopy applications. Somehow I am not surprised.

“It is a good thing we have Japanese and Germans,” I told him, “Otherwise we would be in trouble to wipe the dust between the atoms”

I was pleasantly surprised when I booked my last minute flight to Japan, I got a very reasonable price for the 1st October National Day. When I went to Pudong airport I understood why: the streets were empty in Shanghai, nobody flew at that time because they were all at home with the eyes glued to the TV set, watching as thousands of men and women, looking silly in their flowery dresses, marched on Beijing's Chang An Avenue.

I had the chance to watch the parade for 30 minutes as I waited to board my plane. I have to say it was beautiful. Sure enough there were cringeworthy moments, like when the TV showed the communist model peasants, workers and miners , shining like Mario Bros in 256 colours. But of course, a good deal of hypocrisy is always mandatory in these State events, in China and elsewhere. And regarding the execution, I have watched quite a few of the famous mass events in Pyongyang, and I am pretty sure North Koreans are white with envy watching this one, if their state channel even cared to broadcast it.

All this display of patriotism reminded me of the conversation I had last week with little Yi. It was after we watched an advert on TV, the one where the little girl stands on Tiananmen Square squeaking in that ghastly toddler tone: “妈妈我爱你!” (mum, I love you), and a similar girl says the same in Tibetan in front of the Potala temple of Lhasa. The screen then goes white, and a message comes up: “祖国我爱你”. Motherland, I love you. I don't remember which was the company announced, but the advert has been showing continuously for months, and it was the eleventh time I watched it.

I had a delicate stomach that day, and pushed to the limits of resistance, I couldnt help bringing up the subject:

“This is ridiculous,” I said bluntly, “you can't love a country like you love your mother!”

“Of course you can,” said little Yi, “you don't understand the feelings of the Chinese!”

“Yeah, right.”

Babbling toddlers and feelings of the people. That was about as much as I could take before lunch. I regretted I'd spoken at all.

“Our country is like a mother for all the Chinese, ” she continued, “that is what they mean.”

“Yeah, OK, except that it is NOT the same. A mother gives you life, she will always love you and no matter what happens, no matter what mistakes you do or how stupid you behave, she will be there for you. A country, if you fail to comply, will just abandon you or even put you to death ”

“Well, it is a different kind of mother. If you fail, the punishment is terrible. If you work hard and succeed, the prize is much greater. It is a mighty mother with higher stakes, what is wrong with that?'

“Nothing wrong, just that that is not Love”

“It is,” she insisted. “Or don't Christians teach love of God, and isn't He much more terrible, that if you fail to behave even your life is not enough, and you get an eternity of pain?”

“I…,”

I shut up. She had some point there. I don't particularly believe in the Christian god, and besides, 2000 years ago they invented a mother Mary precisely to deal with the rough edges of the Old Testament. But it is true that, in religion and in politics, many people in the West feel that same kind of loving feelings as the Chinese. So this was not really a discussion about China, but a more general one on patriotism.

My problem is that I do not accept the word love to refer to a country. For one reason, because I understand love as a feeling that can only happen between persons, perhaps sometimes with animals, but not with things. And definitely not with abstract and easy manipulable concepts like “nation”. But granted, this is merely a problem of language, and I don't have the authority to prescribe how the word “love” should be used, even less how “爱” is employed in Chinese. Still, there is a more compelling argument against love for the motherland: I think it is not in the best interest of the “loving” party.

Let's look at the facts. Human society has to be organized some way, and the power needs to be held by someone. In the past it was the tribe, the emperor or the feudal lord. Now it is the nation-state, nothing particularly wrong with that. All forms of organization require the respect and participation of the citizens to work, and it is in the interest of everyone to treat them accordingly, once their legitimacy has been established. Therefore, I understand it is important to respect and work for the improvement of one's country, and I try to do it, just like I do for my company or for my university. But love them like a mother?

It might be that I am speaking from a very European perspective–though by no means mainstream even there. Perhaps I am failing to take into account the particular circumstances of countries like China. Europeans used to be the haughtiest and most virulent motherland lovers, until their excessive feelings brought about ruin and destruction. Patriotism in China never caused any catastrophe of even comparable magnitude, and instead worked well to save the people from foreign-imposed sufferings. So the feelings of many Chinese are understandable, if not necessarily beneficial today.

And still, the key question we have to ask ourselves is: are these feelings in the interest of the citizen, and in the interest of mankind as a whole? Can the World really be in peace if the relation between citizens and their countries is one of blind love, like child to mother? When there is a conflict of interests, is the loving child not forced to fight for his beloved to the last consequences? Since conflicts of interests and greedy rulers are facts of life that will not disappear, is not the love doctrine in contradiction with the ideal of World Peace that most of us profess?

I would like to hear opinions about this. Of course, I understand that for many sentimental people the feeling of love for their country is very much alive, and there is little to explain since it is just a feeling . But Chinese tend to be very rational and in control of their feelings, and when they choose to love it is rarely out of blind passion, but rather because they consider it a good option. I suspect their patriotism is in most cases the result of a prisoner's dilemma : if other countries act patriotic, the only rational attitude is to do the same.

But I wonder if people are actually following this logic (ultimately a defensive attitude) or are really so in love with their country and their flag that they don't even think much about it. And if you do think about it, do you actually believe that a peaceful World is possible in the long term?

Perhaps I think too much sometimes. Perhaps the fact that I am writing from Nagasaki, where I have just seen one of the most chilling exhibitions of human-caused horrors, might have some impact on my thoughts today. And still, I stand by all I write here.

What are your views?

(PS. On the same subject, also see this post just published on Chinageeks )

One of the things I learned this Summer is that, while I may leave on holidays to Europe, China doesn't really leave me anymore. More than just a country, it is a force of nature, the other face of mankind that is now part of my life. China is always there, and she is everywhere, showing up in unexpected circumstances.

Take Spain, for example. The Chinese community there is largely new, not fluent in languages, and originated from one single point in China: the tiny county of Qingtian, upriver from Wenzhou. When it comes to languages, the Spanish are not much better than them, and the whole situation is full of opportunities for the literate laowai. While a simple “nihao” is usually enough to be the hero of the day, some preparation yields better results. Just wander into a Chinese shop casually dropping a Qingtianese greeting, and comment on the remarkable history of the old stone-carving county, home of the Chinese-Spanish. This makes you popular. And you can drink tea and practice your Chinese conversation for hours on end.

What follows is a true story that happened in my last day of holidays. It includes a Chinese family with extraordinary sleeping abilities, and a team of adventurous Spanish ducks. I hope you enjoy it:

It was the first morning flight from Bilbao to Paris, where I was scheduled to connect with the Air France to Shanghai. As I entered the cabin of the A319, I marked immediately a Chinese family sitting in one of the front rows: a middle-aged mother with her son.

She was wearing a shapeless purple jacket in the style of the hundred names, and her teenage son covered his head in a Korean hip-hop hoody. They stood out in the business atmosphere of the early flight. But what made me notice them—and I couldn't help a smile—is that they were already fast asleep before I even got to my seat. As far as I could see, they didn't switch their positions for the duration of a rather eventful flight.

From the start, the journey proved trying for my nerves. As we were taking off, there was a loud bang coming from the back of the plane, followed by a vibration that grew stronger as we flew. For a while nothing else happened, but then, as we were approaching France, the plane suddenly leant to one side, and the Pyrenees mountains turned 180 degrees around us, until we were headed back West from where we came.

The noise grew worse, and the passengers with notions of geography were increasingly anxious. The town of San Sebastian appeared below us for the second time, only this time the ground seemed much closer. All the service call beeps went off one after the other. I looked around to the other passengers and they were all looking around. Nobody spoke.

Finally, the cabin crew appeared on the aisle, delivering row by row the official version of the facts: during take off a flying object had collided with the blades of engine 2, producing the bang and subsequent vibrations that we were experiencing. It was a common occurrence, and there was no danger. As part of the normal safety procedure, the captain had decided to return to the home airport for maintenance.

“It was probably a bird,” said the stewardess when she got to our row.

“A bird?” laughed the steward, “that was a team of big fat ducks!”

I figured he must have been instructed to keep a light mood. I tried hard to laugh, picturing circles of ducklings turning in the turbofan as we struggled to get past the sharp Basque valleys.

***

After an endless flight we were safety landed back onto Bilbao airport. As we were waiting to disembark, the pilot confirmed that the airplane was done for the day. We had to pick up our luggage first and then go to the Air France office on the second floor to request a new ticket. As usual, my suitcase was one of the last to appear on the rolling band, and by the time I got to the office there was already a long queue, about the length of a duck-stricken A319, and every bit as noisy.

The crowd was growing unruly. Some French passengers harangued the masses with true revolutionary spirit, launching slogans against all winged creatures, including ducks, airbuses, and Air France pilots. Since I was last, there was not much point in queuing, so I just stood on one side in a way to signify my disapproval. Then I noticed the focus was gradually shifting, as the keen Robespierres directed their anger to some unidentified target at the front of the queue. I walked over to have a closer look.

It was the Chinese family.

Clearly, they hadn't understood the instructions to pick up the luggage, and they had come straight to the airline office before anyone else. They were first, and they showed no intention of giving up their position. On the contrary, they were holding it admirably. The mother covered the rearguard with her fierce eye, while the son held fast to the desk. They were obviously well trained in conflictive queues, and they seemed unimpressed by the mob.

Linguistically, the situation was not ideal. The mother was screaming in Qingtianese, the son translated into Chinglese and an Air France employee replied in elaborate Spanglish, while the French head of office stared in disbelief. I was alone, and my faithful friend the Electronic Dictionary & Thesaurus was out of reach in the bottom of my bag. But the time was to act, and I did not falter in the hour of peril.

I cut right to the front and put in a “Qué pasa?什么事?”. All four faces turned to me at once. The queue became suddenly quiet.

“They want to go to China!” cried the employee in Spanish.

“We want to go to China!” cried the son in Chinese.

The positions of the parties seemed to me very much unanimous, and ripe for an easy consensus. But further enquiry proved that it was not exactly so. I managed to reconstruct the following facts:

The family had slept through the flight, right until we landed back in Bilbao. Then they had not understood the strongly accented message of the pilot and they had dashed out of the plane straight to the connections desk, where they had been redirected to the airline office. And they acted so urgently because they only had one hour to catch the connecting flight. All they asked is to board their plane immediately, and they were pretty suspicious of this whole attitude of the staff in Paris.

Because they actually thought they were in Paris.

The problem was not an easy one to explain. Not only the mother's mandarin was as bad as mine, but also she was determined, and she had a deep rooted common sense. They had just flown into Paris and therefore this was Paris, she would take no nonsense from a laowai. I used all my persuasion. I noted how the souvenir shops were selling bullfighters, and not tour eiffels. Finally the young son understood, and he helped me convince her. The fact was settled: We were in Spain, and there were no direct flights to Shanghai from this airport.

The rest was fairly easy to manage, and after a few minutes the three of us left the office with a new ticket. Once their infinite gratitude had been sufficiently expressed, I couldn't help asking the son:

“But, how could you not realize that this is the same airport as before?”

“Well,” he smiled shyly, “Mum was just telling me that she finds all airports in Europe look strikingly similar!”

And his mother, who was tough but good-humoured, found it rather funny, and we all joined in a face-saving laughter. Then I knew I was engaged as official interpreter of the sleeping family.

***

In the end, my work as a translator served my interests well. We got our new tickets before anyone else, the last three places left to connect with the evening Paris-Shanghai. The revolutionaries were so stunned by the performance that they forgot to guillotine us, and the Air France employee gave us some free lunch vouchers for the VIP lounge. To make our wait more pleasant, she said, the company was offering one of their specialty dishes in the “Restaurant des Mondes”.

It was still far from the Spanish lunch time, so we had to wait while they opened the kitchen for us. The prospect of a free lunch worked well to improve the mood of my Chinese friends, and we had a lively chat in the VIP sofas. I took the chance to impress them with my baidupedic knowledge of their hometown. After that they opened up to me, and the last lines of suspicion finally vanished from the woman's brow.

I listened distractedly as the son informed me of the state of the rap scene in Zhejiang. A terrible state that was, apparently, and I waited for a chance to switch topics. It was his mother that I found most intriguing. All the while she was sitting very still, as if lost in her own thoughts. She had an outside appearance that in China would be classified as “peasant”, but her proud, resolute eyes didn't quite fit in the picture. What was she doing flying around with her single son? I finally asked him.

As it turned out, she was a renowned chef back home. Qingtian is the origin of thousands of Chinese restaurants across Europe, and their extended family had made a fortune with a popular chain of Chinese food. She had come as an expert to establish new recipes in the family restaurants in Spain, all the while teaching her son the secrets of the Chinese cuisine. They had toured the country for three months, making the company's food “more delicious, more authentically Chinese”.

“Her most famous recipe is Beijing Duck,” said the kid, licking his lips, “You have never tried anything like that!”

“I would love to have a chance to try it,” I answered, suddenly hungry for duck.

Then the mother, who hadn't said a word all this time, looked at me with a strange smile. I felt there was an invitation coming. Instead, she opened her eyes wide and nervously shook her son's shoulder.

“Heavens!” she cried, “we still haven't picked up our luggage!”

***

When I took them down to luggage collection, their belongings were still lonely turning around on the band, a number of shapeless pieces covered in woven tarpaulin. As we loaded them one by one onto a trolley, the son suddenly found something was wrong. It was the last packet, a cardboard box with some strange little holes pierced on the top. He held the box on his knees and showed me one of the corners where it had been torn open. The box was empty.

The woman was very upset. She started moving her arms up and down and speaking in her sing-song dialect at an alarming speed. I couldn't understand a word of what she was saying, but the replies of her son were more composed, and I could more or less make out the gist of it:

“I told you we couldn't take them on a plane, mum!”, he was saying.

“But how can we pass the long winter without them?”, she replied.

Suddenly I had a very dark premonition. While they were busy arguing, I walked over to the broken box and examined it carefully. As I held it up in front of me, a small, delicate object floated down from the broken corner. It was a feather.

I dropped the box as if it burned my hands, and I kicked it behind the rolling band were it wouldn't be seen. I was in panic now, and I joined the arguing party with my own version of alarmed mandarin:

“We have to het out of here, NOW!”, I said.

“什么？ But the box?,” said the mother.

“Forget it!” I pushed the trolley towards the door, “we will see to that later!”

“什么？ But we have to file a complaint. They might have found …”

“No!”

I tried to control my nerves, as I envisioned charges for terrorism, and the dire diplomatic consequences of China's national dish being presented as evidence of the crime. I tried to relax telling myself that at least there hadn't been any human casualties.

“Please help us,” she said.

“We can't do this now! Spain is a bureaucratic country, these things take a long time…” I muttered. “And anyway I'm sure your little friends are going to be fine!”

She gave me another inquisitive glance, like the first time I suggested she was not in Paris. She was clearly reconsidering about my sanity.

“Well, excuse me ,” she said, “but they are important to me, and if you don't want to help me I will have to file the complaint myself”

Just at that moment the airport PA system cracked with a life-saving announcement. All the passengers of the cancelled flight were asked to go back immediately to the second floor, were new information was awaiting us from the captain.

“Quick, this must be our lunch, let's go before we miss it!” I translated, and this argument finally seemed convincing enough for the stubborn lady.

***

On the second floor, the slick French captain was putting in practice the company's open information policy. The maintenance staff had just confirmed—he said—that it was indeed the impact of external objects on the engine that had caused the vibration. The strange bodies had been already extracted and brought in from the hangar for analysis. The decision to return to the airport had proven a good choice, as it was the chief engineer's opinion that we would have never made it to Paris.

A drop of cold sweat fell down my right temple as I considered the chances of those little animals finding their way into the turbine. Even if they managed to tear open the box and then break free from under the piles of luggage, even if they could unlatch the hold door with their little beaks, still, how could they fly over to the engine? It seemed impossible. I remembered the laws of fluid dynamics, and how turbulent airflows exhibit nonlinear, chaotic behaviours. For the first time in my life I felt I understood the real meaning of the Chaos Theory.

In the meantime, the mother had sent her boy to inquire about lost objects, and he was explaining their problem to the captain in such a perfectly unintelligible English that the brave man could only smile politely. They looked around at a loss, only to see that their laowai friend was nowhere to be found. I had just in time slipped into the gentlemen's restroom.

At this point, the airport loudspeakers buzzed again:

Passengers of the AF2435 to Paris, please proceed into our VIP lounge. As a special attention, we are offering you the chef's specialty in our exclusive “Restaurant des Mondes”

***

I joined the family again as they walked down the corridor to the VIP Lounge. It seemed that the luxury meal kindly offered by Air France had conquered the heart of the frightful woman. Her expression showed no more pain for the loss of her beasts, and I hoped she had decided to give up the search. Presently, she was impressed by the quality of the service, and her mood was chatty.

“They know how to treat a client, in France,” she said conversationally, “back in China it's not even comparable.”

“Oh, sure, great service here,”

“Even if they don't have any proper backup plans,” she noted, “they are just great at doing nice surprises.”

“Oh, yeah, you can count on the French for surprises”

“It is all in the attitude, isn't it?”, she said, and her only child nodded in agreement.

As we approached the “Restaurant des Mondes”, the atmosphere was so relaxed that I thought we had passed the worst. I just had to get them on our plane right after lunch, and there would be no more nonsense of lost object complaints. Then I saw the stewardess at the restaurant door, smiling. She held a large sign written in all the major languages of the World, including mandarin. It read:

TODAYS SPECIAL DISH:

“Thin-sliced duck Beijing style”

In case there were any doubts, underneath the text there was a colourful picture of a team of ducks thinly sliced as if by fast rotating blades, swimming in the dark sauce of the traditional Beijing recipe.

I tried with my body to hide the sign from their view, but I was too late. There was not much point anyway, the pictures were all over the place, and the food was coming out any minute. As we sat down, I peeped at her out of the corner of my eye. Her expression was enigmatic, the initial apprehension had turned into something more lofty. Was it triumph? I trembled.

The dishes were served and, unexpectedly, nothing happened. I glanced at my two friends. The were obviously enjoying their meal, emitting now and then favorable grunts and other judgements with the assurance of the true connoisseur. Then, halfway through their ducks, they looked at each other with an understanding smile and, following some mysterious signal, the lady suddenly stood up, knocking her chair behind her, and crying out loudly:

“I want to speak to the person who cooked this!”

There was a spark in her eye as she glared at the kitchen door on the other side of the dining room. I could not think of anything to say this time, so I just sat still, helpless as the slings and arrows flew swiftly towards their target.

Seeing that no help was forthcoming from my side, the mother ignored me and took direct action. She strode across the room and, without further preambles, she thrust open the kitchen door, roaring in Qingtianese. In a minute, the cook came out sporting a high chef hat and howling even louder than her. To my surprise, he was also employing some variety of Zhejiang dialect.

然后一些奇怪的事情发生了。 The moment he saw the chef, the son stood up and ran across the dining room charging like a fighting bull, and when the three of them were at a close distance, they came together in a long, warm hug.

I stood rather awkwardly next to them, wondering what was next. The chatter of the adults had risen to undecipherable speeds under the flow of emotions. I looked at the teenager for an explanation, but he was too absorbed speaking to the cook. Finally, I managed to catch some fraction of the conversation:

“Uncle Li, we knew it had to be you, nobody else in the World can cook Beijing Duck like mother! What are you doing here?”

“You know, I got a catering contract with Air France, didn't I tell you?”

“Uncle, you really need to help us, mother is really worried! This laowai is with us, but his Chinese is so-so, and he just doesn't get it!”

“Say, my boy, what is the problem?”

“It is the new down-filled coats that mum bought to take home for the winter. She was so upset when we found out that they've been stolen from our luggage…”

我是不是有我不知道比什么是记者。 But in the light of the available information, I think it's worth it to have another look at the events, and see what we make of it. 参考纽约时报图上的插图相结合的，这是很难怀疑中国共产党亲，和资料，包括证人的证词是关于详见已发表关于5月5日的事件。

It all started with a protest in People's Square, followed by a concentration along Liberation Road, which was met around 6.30 by the People's Armed Police. 到这里一切都“正常”，在街头骚乱的逻辑：有冲突，可能有一些双方的受害者。 但解放路。 非常中央，很多人生活在那里，一定会发现“纽约时报证人至少数百人已被杀害或囚犯在这一点上提。

但事后，尤其是在8，沿团结和大宛道路的轴，该事件是不通过任何正常的社会秩序混乱的标准。 街头骚乱，可以像其他形式的暴力，有附带损害，但这种情况并非如此。 警方是不存在的，汉小怪不能一直在这么短的时间内举办，并解释这些死亡的唯一途径是，它是蓄意大规模的大屠杀平民居民和路人。 This is consistent with what was written in other accounts by various newspapers.

123 *韩已或多或少各方所接受，作为最小的是惊人的数字的行动主要集中在5个小时的空间，在这样一个面积减少发生人员伤亡的初始计数。 在其他骚乱的地区，包括新疆，西藏或中国其他地区，我们可以看到，这个比例是完全超出范围。 这是不是在政治骚乱的斗争中的热量。 It was cold-blooded persecution, the kind of actions that can only be the work of fanatics.

谁是事件背后的

在其8月2日发行，香港新闻周刊“亚洲周刊” 采访 Heyrat孜，维吾尔记者，博客，和艾滋病活动家，什么样的人，谁是不太可能偏袒中国共产党。 heyrat谈到的Hizb，伊扎布特人伊斯兰，伊斯兰解放党，国际泛伊斯兰政党，这是正式的和平，但在欧洲煽动暴力的过去已在被告。 This organization has spread very quickly in Xinjiang in the last decade.

作为一个在乌鲁木齐的见证，尼牙孜注意到许多示威者和宗教口号，在听到抗议的强烈喀什口音。 This brings to mind all the times the CPC has spoken of the menace of an Islamist group called ETIM, which might actually exist or not. 在任何情况下，确实存在一些激进组织清楚地看到，像攻击这一个 ，去年有16名警察被辗过后，冷冷地刀砍和轰炸。

没有证据，我不会指责任何团体，我会犯同样的“固体块”的思想昨天我批评自己。 但到现在我们已经看到，要任何诚实观察员好奇，它当然值得激进伊斯兰教在新疆的领域作进一步调查。 在阿富汗和巴基斯坦等国接壤的地区，它是所有不可想象的，失意的青年，他们越过边境的例子，发现在一个变态的宗教版本的逃生。

响应

中国政府处理危机的比较好，给定的情况下。 Actually, the main objection one could make is the opposite of what most Western readers like to imagine: on Sunday 5th more force should have been used to avoid the murders.

如果你想起来了，你可能会同意，中国共产党的领导是不正是理想的梦想家。 当他们让外国记者到一个地方，那是因为他们知道他们有什么可失去的，而这一次，他们必须一直非常有信心，他们没有责怪。 Also we have to admit that, even when in front of journalists, it is unusual in most armies in the World to exhibit so much discipline and restraint as the Chinese did in the aftermath of indiscriminate racist attacks against their own people.

A large part of the Western media were confused by this attitude, which perhaps explains why they left so early. 事实上，这是一些耐人寻味的，它可以使一些实力较弱的精神萎缩，来考虑，中国排在第二时间后，四川灾区证明， 有时候，一个独裁政权可以做的事情比一个民主国家。 这需要一些坚实的信念和了解一些自己的理想，能够在世界没有善恶模具。

In any case, there is little doubt – the Western media has given me no reason to think otherwise – that the Chinese double approach of media control and moderate police action has produced the best results during the crisis. 不用说，这只是一个短期公式的工程，遏制暴力，更需要从现在开始做，要真正解决新疆问题。 More about long term solutions in the next posts.

Rebiya Kadeer

我不会在这里浪费时间抹黑热比娅，因为从一开始，她败坏自己。 她没有提供依据，在所有她给媒体的信息，以及她的一些要求是如此荒谬的错误，它实际上是让我觉得她是无辜的：谁是它的业务的人不可能是这种恶劣的骗子。 唯一的解释是，她是完全无能。

Click on the picture for one example of her latest claims.

热比娅比什么，给人的印象是，她绝望的是看电视的时间。 She knows her time of fame is running to an end, and she is forced to place ever stronger claims, raising the stakes at each go to attract the tired audiences. 作为博客Twofish的反映，如果她真的关心新疆的未来，她有可能抓住这个机会发送一个和平的讯息，并尝试连接时，他们遭到了残酷的攻击时，其余的中国，也许赢得了尊重温和派。

但已经有人像热比娅，成功的商人，在她的时间如何囚禁，然后发布了由中国共产党，作为事实上的维吾尔人代表结束了吗？ Kadeer was called to play a role, and she plays it just fine. 这是一个已经写入中国共产党，西方媒体和观众，由美国和NED的角色，资助她。 The story was written long before she arrived, a well proven plot that works with the public and will make everyone happy. 一遍是达赖喇嘛的传奇，复制粘贴现在的编剧可以放松和享受他们的夏季假期。

热比娅，当然，除了这是没有达赖喇嘛，既不是她的事迹，也不站在她之间的维吾尔justifiy任何此类比较。

The Important Question

现在下降到了许多考虑的关键问题：热比娅在接触，甚至融资安排杀人的极端主义团体，或者是她，因为我怀疑，完全在地面上的现实的无知吗？ 我不认为我们永远也找不到了。 It is difficult to believe that the NED, funded by the American Congress, would sponsor anyone connected with terrorism; but if by mistake they did, I am sure they will take good care to hide all the proofs.

请注意，无论哪种方式，在NED不出来从这个故事非常好。 赞助机会获得自己的名字，而她冷冷地观察杀害几十跳是一个机会主义者，几乎在同一个国家民主基金会的目标。

但实际上，这是如此重要呢？ 我不认为如此。 Kadeer will not last, and whether she is guilty or not, the peanuts that the NED pays her do not really change anything. 与她入住的外籍维吾尔族的热比娅世维会不可能控制在地面上的恐怖组织的运作。 而且，作为一个鼓舞人心的作用，我是很怀疑，她 - 一个女人，结过两次婚，业务和PC背景 - 永远年轻的伊斯兰激进分子。 她将肯定不会变成新的本·拉丹。

没有，对中国和世界的真正的问题是人：

W HO 7月5日的杀戮背后真的吗？ 囚犯将如何判断？ How are the interethnic policies of the CPC failing? How is this failure feeding the bases of some violent groups? What is the connection of these groups with islamist terrorism and what is the probability of Al-Qaeda joining the party? And why is China the only Security Council country that hasn't received a large-scale attack from islamists, in spite of the years-long Uyghur conflict?

And finally, where are the people that are supposed to be answering all these questions?

*See my comment below for the basis of this number.