Why living this kind of life? and why China? I've got my own reasons, but let's first her what this guy's:
Guangzhou, 22 February 1988
The more obvious far-fetched analogy is this: my coming to China was another step in my attempt to find something I could do in life which did not have revolutionary purpose, my attempt to live without a revolutionary programme, discipline and enthusiasm. That is, in a sense, what an entire generation of Chinese of my age are trying to do now. But of course I have nothing in common with them. I am not doing this voluntarily, and I certainly don't believe that life without revolutionary purpose will accomplish anything revolutionary, as even worthwile in a historic sense.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
On Acting Chinese
Jinan, 15 May 1985
I like acting Chinese, and it is no use telling me that I'm not. Acting Chinese helps me, not just with the language, the day-to-day affairs, the bureaucracy and regulations. It also eases my mind enormously, keeps me in serious conversations, and nourishes my intellect far better than the curiousity that Nick's rap always arouses. It makes me feel at home. There was always a place for me among ordinary Chinese in hotels and restos. While Nick had to be treated like a famous writer and painter, and constantly made himself the centre of attention.
[still from the guy - see: previous entries]
I like acting Chinese, and it is no use telling me that I'm not. Acting Chinese helps me, not just with the language, the day-to-day affairs, the bureaucracy and regulations. It also eases my mind enormously, keeps me in serious conversations, and nourishes my intellect far better than the curiousity that Nick's rap always arouses. It makes me feel at home. There was always a place for me among ordinary Chinese in hotels and restos. While Nick had to be treated like a famous writer and painter, and constantly made himself the centre of attention.
[still from the guy - see: previous entries]
老外在北京 ：很多了！
［reflection on being a foreigner/laowai in beijing - still borrowing the rambling of that writer whose name I forgot]
17 November 1984
Why are foreigners so relentlessly solvent and so emotionally bankrupt, so selfish, so useless, so venal and backward, so ignorant and incurious? I know, of course, they are not all like this, and the ones who are simply helpless dumb animals in a foreign country at bottom. We are the scum of the earth, we 'travellers', we are an oily film, ever present and ever shallow.
[revisiting beijing, 26 june to 14 july 2006]
17 November 1984
Why are foreigners so relentlessly solvent and so emotionally bankrupt, so selfish, so useless, so venal and backward, so ignorant and incurious? I know, of course, they are not all like this, and the ones who are simply helpless dumb animals in a foreign country at bottom. We are the scum of the earth, we 'travellers', we are an oily film, ever present and ever shallow.
[revisiting beijing, 26 june to 14 july 2006]
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