Land Granny, the Heavenly Bureaucrat and other tiny deities

Posted by expatlingo in Hong Kong and tagged with China, Chinese culture, culture, Earth God, expat, God of War, Goddess of Mercy, gods, Guan Yin, Guan Yu, Hong Kong, Land Grandma, life abroad, religion, travel, Tu Di Gong, Tu Di Po May 17, 2013

In shopping mall filled Hong Kong, districts still exist where altars to gods outnumber coffeehouses. Wandering haphazardly around the New Territories, I’ve randomly stumbled across and photographed many tiny deities. While they added a touch of local color to my explorations, I have only recently become more curious about who they are and what they represent. This week I finally took the time to do some research and discovered that these little god figurines front some fascinating back-stories.

Land Granny and her partner, the ‘Modest Heavenly Bureaucrat’

Looking as warm and caring as Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus, this pair of tiny gods can often be found around Hong Kong’s villages. I spotted this particular set at an altar beside the Tin Hua Temple in Lam Tsuen.

Initially, I simply assumed they were symbolic ancestral relatives used in a generic form of ancestor worship. A very silly assumption on my part! With more careful sleuthing, I’ve discovered that they are “Land Granny” (Tu Di Po/Tou Dei Po 土地婆) and “Earth God” (Tu Di Gong/Tou Dei Gung 土地公).

According to Wikipedia, Earth God was historically revered by common people who relied on the land for their livelihoods:

[He was] not all-powerful, but was a modest heavenly bureaucrat to whom individual villagers could turn in times of drought or famine.

So he is a simple celestial administrator; he can’t win wars, but he can make sure your agricultural balance sheet remains in the black. Beloved by many, the Earth God is often simply called “Ye ye” (grandpa).

His partner, Land Grandma, is often viewed as having a similar benevolent temperament, but is sometimes thought to negatively temper Earth God’s potential generosity. The particular representation of her above, however, looks like the archetype of a warm, loving and generous grandma and must represent the former, non-stingy, interpretation.

A Nuanced God of War

In the same area of Hong Kong’s New Territories, I passed by this jumble of roadside gods:

A partner-less Earth God can be seen on the right, but the scene is dominated by the red skinned “God of War” (Guan Yu/Gwaan Jyu/Kwuan Yu 关羽, 關羽 ). Having visited several temples at least partially dedicated to the “God of War,” I thought of him as a one-dimensional god of aggression. I was wrong again. Guan Yu was a real historical figure whose non-fiction life has morphed into a fictional tale of grandeur via the “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” where he stars in such stories as “Guan Yu crosses five passes and slays six generals” and “Guan Yu attends a banquet alone armed with only one blade.”

Symbolically, Guan Yu represents loyalty and righteousness. He is widely worshiped by the Hong Kong police force. Unexpectedly, but because he also represents the “code of brotherhood,” he is also widely revered by Hong Kong’s criminal underworld who respect him from an “honor among thieves” perspective.

Guan Yu, it turns out, is a character much more interesting than a bluntly violent action figure; he is a nuanced symbol of strength with honor.

The Goddess of Mercy and Possibly Air Travel

Near the old police station that now houses the Ping Shan Heritage Trail Visitor’s Centre, I spied a tiny “Goddess of Mercy” (Guan Yin/Gun Jam/Kwuan Yam 观音, 觀音 ) perched on a tree stump:

Guan Yin is a very widely worshipped bodhisattva who seems to have become all things to all people. The Goddess of Mercy provides compassion and unconditional love, protects women and children, champions the downtrodden, liberates souls from karmic woe, promotes fertility, aids fishermen, and may even protect air travelers.

The two small children who flank her hint at further interesting tales to be explored. They are two of her acolytes ”Dragon Girl” (Long Nü) and “Child of Wealth” (Shan Cai).

An utterly enormous version of Guan Yin is under construction in Tai Po district, but I prefer this modest tree stump representation.

*****

For now, I’ll conclude this random walk around the Chinese pantheon of gods.

Have I gotten something wrong? Please correct me. Do you have another interesting deity-related story to add? Please share it.

I heavily mined Wikipedia for this information. Let me know if you have a good book recommendation on this topic. Here are direct links to the relevant Wikipedia source articles:

Land Granny and Earth God

Guan Yu or God of War

Guan Yin or Goddess or Mercy

One to rule them all: Starbucks in China

Posted by expatlingo in China and tagged with Americanization, Beijing, China, coffee, expat, Forbidden City, Hangzhou, life abroad, starbucks, travel May 10, 2013

Feet and fingers aching from Beijing’s winter air, I once went in search of the Forbidden City’s much-maligned Starbucks. As a former “friends don’t let friends go to Starbucks” anti-corporate Seattle-dweller, I’d read all the tut-tutting over the cultural inappropriateness of the coffee chain’s location within China’s former Imperial Palace.

After a 2003 conference in Beijing, I took a few extra days to see the sights. In the heart of the city, I wandered solo through huge, impersonal expanses of crushed ice and snow. Entering the Forbidden City, I passed through an unending series of unheated squares, palaces, gardens and halls until my bones ached with cold. I needed something hot. I wanted a coffee. I remembered the newspaper articles about the out-of-place Starbucks and started looking for it. It was not in any of the obvious places I had already passed through. I started circling through side halls and garden corners.

I could not find it. Despite the hand-wringing over its location being an ugly mark on historic China, I could not find it.

With red cheeks and a running nose I called it quits and ducked into one of the many shops selling pots of instant noodles. It was warm-ish inside and the walls were lined with rows of Big Gulp-sized buckets of noodles. I chose the “red” flavor and a woman peeled back the top and filled it with hot water. Carrying it to a long communal table, I sat on a metal stool and waited for the boiling water to soften the noodles and shards of dehydrated carrots. It was filling and warming, but a soft chair, newspaper and hot coffee would have been nice.

After seven years in operation, the Forbidden City Starbucks branch closed in 2007 because of a disagreement with the landlord over branding. Despite leaving the Forbidden City, Starbucks has only kept expanding throughout China and there are currently over 3,000 branches in “greater China,” that is including Hong Kong, Macau and Taiwan.

Starbucks, unlike KFC or McDonald’s, tries to blend into the local area. For example, in Hangzhou last autumn I saw what is probably the most beautiful Starbucks in the world. Tucked away among the gardens and other tea houses, it’s a rather lovely sight:

Starbucks in Hangzhou, China

Starbucks sign “星巴克咖啡” (xīng bā kè kā fēi)

Starbucks is ever-keen to suit its products to the local market. Looking at the current seasonal offerings in China, one might wonder whether Starbucks is changing China or China is changing Starbucks:

Dragonboat Dumplings (screen shot from Starbucks China website)

Red Bean Green Tea Frappuccino (screen shot from Starbucks China website)

In Seattle, with its wealth of coffee shops, I’m still more likely to visit small stores like Herkimer or Fuel, but there have been many times in China, Macau and Hong Kong, when a soft chair and a Starbucks coffee have been exactly what I wanted. And from the growth figures, it’s exactly what many Chinese want too.

“Gau go gaau gau gau ge!” Song by The Police or Cantonese tongue twister?

Posted by expatlingo in languages and tagged with Cantonese, China, Chinese, expat, Hong Kong, language study, life abroad, Lion Eating Poet in the Stone Den, Mandarin, tongue twister, travel May 4, 2013

Since Chinese New Year, I’ve been studying Cantonese with a small group of beginners. Our class consists of a few Brits, a few Dutch, a token American (me) and a token Beijinger.

As our instructor has guided us through a check-list of basic topics — taxi directions, food, shopping, family relationships, the weather, colors, etc. — the more distractible and deviant members of the group have slowly collected enough Cantonese homonyms to devise a mini-tongue twister:

“九個膠狗够嘅 !” is pronounced like this in Cantonese: “Gau go gaau gau gau ge!” (with Jyupting tone markings: gau² go³ gaau¹ gau² gau³ ge³). The meaning of this tongue twister is: Nine plastic dogs are enough!

Sticklers, please forgive us, we’ve picked a generic and imprecise measure word for “dog” but we did it in keeping with the spirit of the tongue twister’s “g” sound. Are there other errors? Please let me know!

This side-game has firmly stuck six Cantonese words in my mind and (I think) helped me to understand one Cantonese final particle — ge — more clearly.

Here is another Cantonese tongue twister that fills in a few more Canto vocab blanks: Go go go go gou gwo go go go go (click through for Youtube video).

Neither of these short sentences, however, can match the famous Classical Chinese tongue twister, “Lion Eating Poet in the Stone Den,” which uses the sound “shi” and only the sound “shi” (with varying tones) for 10 straight lines of poetry.

《施氏食獅史》

石室詩士施氏，嗜獅，誓食十獅。
氏時時適市視獅。
十時，適十獅適市。
是時，適施氏適市。
氏視是十獅，恃矢勢，使是十獅逝世。
氏拾是十獅屍，適石室。
石室濕，氏使侍拭石室。
石室拭，氏始試食是十獅。
食時，始識是十獅屍，實十石獅屍。
試釋是事。

”Shī Shì shí shī shǐ”

Shíshì shīshì Shī Shì, shì shī, shì shí shí shī.
Shì shíshí shì shì shì shī.
Shí shí, shì shí shī shì shì.
Shì shí, shì Shī Shì shì shì.
Shì shì shì shí shī, shì shǐ shì, shǐ shì shí shī shìshì.
Shì shí shì shí shī shī, shì shíshì.
Shíshì shī, Shì shǐ shì shì shíshì.
Shíshì shì, Shì shǐ shì shí shì shí shī.
Shí shí, shǐ shí shì shí shī shī, shí shí shí shī shī.
Shì shì shì shì.

“Lion-Eating Poet in the Stone Den”

In a stone den was a poet called Shi, who was a lion addict, and had resolved to eat ten lions.
He often went to the market to look for lions.
At ten o’clock, ten lions had just arrived at the market.
At that time, Shi had just arrived at the market.
He saw those ten lions, and using his trusty arrows, caused the ten lions to die.
He brought the corpses of the ten lions to the stone den.
The stone den was damp. He asked his servants to wipe it.
After the stone den was wiped, he tried to eat those ten lions.
When he ate, he realized that these ten lions were in fact ten stone lion corpses.
Try to explain this matter.

Do you study languages? Any great tongue-twisters or word games to share? Do you think The Police tune, “De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da,” was really just a secret Cantonese tongue twister?

Buoyantly free in rule-bound Hong Kong

Posted by expatlingo in Hong Kong and tagged with art, bouncy castle, expat, Hong Kong, inflated pig, Inflation!, live abroad, Mobile M+, parks, public art, rules, travel, West Kowloon Cultural District April 28, 2013

A giant, inflated suckling pig lurks in the grass.

The heavy-hand of Hong Kong’s Leisure and Cultural Services Department (LCSD) stunts the enjoyment of many of the city’s public spaces. LCSD guards have told us we couldn’t “frolick”, lean over railings (to better view the fish pond), or even sip from a juice box at Nan Lian Gardens. They have warned us away from the edge of a turtle pond in Hong Kong Park. By observation, I have deduced that their general policy is to discourage all of the sorts of things kids like to do in public open spaces.

In striking contrast, the Moble M+ INFLATION! exhibit is a wonderland of freedom and bliss. At “Inflation!” the public is allowed to walk, skip or (even) run through what feels like a swiftly tidied up construction site — uneven surfaces(!), clumps of tall weedy grass (!), mud (!) — to see, touch and explore a series of huge, irreverent inflated sculptures.

Giant suckling pig

The “exit” to the suckling pig with the ICC as backdrop.

Half-buried human and cockroach

The real surprise highlight is what appears at a distance as simply an inflated Stonehenge replica.

But which turns out to be a massive “bouncy castle” that everyone can (and does!) jump on:

Old and young alike delight in running, jumping, sitting and falling all over the sculpture’s green, bouncy surface. It’s all smiles and just a few common sense restrictions:

The whole experience is unexpected, mind-freeing, and fun.

Go now, before a net of rules is thrown over the whole thing. It’s on through June 9th at the West Kowloon Cultural District (which, fortuitously, is not managed by LCSD).

Sorry, I’m new to this! Notices for novice expats?

Posted by expatlingo in expat life, cartoon and tagged with expat, Hong Kong, China, cartoon, comic, Cantonese, Mandarin, Mainland China, Chinese, cultural differences, travel, life abroad, pedestrians, disclaimer, new driver, new expat, road rules, eye contact April 24, 2013

On my first walk around Mainland China, I should have hung this apologetic public notice on a placard around my neck:

As a new pedestrian in China, I initially looked for official painted crosswalks, waited for the biggest gap in traffic I could see (because no one yielded voluntarily), and then ran across the road at an unpredictably jerky fast-slow pace. A practice no other road-users anticipated and which caused a lot of confusion and honking.

Fortunately, with a little observation, I soon got the knack of stepping out into the traffic-filled roadways, walking at a steady pace, and marveling as the cars predicted my path and opened gaps for me.

Why am I flashing-back to a time I should have notified others of my ‘novice’ status? It’s the fault of this cartoon man’s guilty, sweaty, stupid grin:

I pass this ‘new driver’ notice daily in the rear window of a white station wagon here in Hong Kong. He reminds me of my own red-faced — ‘sorry I didn’t realize…!’ — moments.

Thinking back, I can recall several times when a “sorry, I’m new here” notice could have been helpful. Here is but a small sample:

Being ‘over-friendly’ during my first weeks of English life and attempting far too much eye-contact with neighbors and semi-strangers.
Assuming that check-out clerks would bag my groceries in Holland.
Thinking that any Hong Kong Island ‘red’ taxi would happily drive me to the middle of nowhere in the ‘New Territories.’

What about you? What mistakes have you made as a novice expat that could have been softened by an “I’m new to this” notice?

*****

Notes: For those who are hooked on Chinese, I translated the ‘new driver’ sticker into both Cantonese and Mandarin:

新手駕駛: Novice driver (In Cantonese: san¹ sau² gaa³ sai.²In simplified characters and Mandarin: 新手驾驶, xīn shŏu jià shĭ)

请多包涵: Please bear with me/I feel apologetic! (In Cantonese: cing² do¹ baau¹ haam⁴. In simplified characters and Mandarin: 请多包涵, qĭng duō bāo hán)

Propaganda: North Korea is a “Socialist Fairyland” and Expat Life is Glamorous!

Posted by expatlingo in expat life and tagged with China, current-events, DPRK, expat, Facebook, Kim Jong Un, Korean Central News Agency, life abroad, North Korea, propaganda, socialist fairyland April 18, 2013

If censorship is a blunt tool used to sway public opinion, propaganda is its softer twin. As a long time watcher of North Korea’s (unintentionally) highly entertaining Korean Central News Agency of the DPRK (KCNA), I was treated to a hearty laugh in early April.

The KCNA’s news typically focuses on: commemorative wreath-laying events for Kim Jong Il and Kim Jong Sun; inflammatory bashing of the United States, South Korea and Japan; and, of course, on delusions about North Korea’s grandeur.

On April 8th, 2013 (or Juche 102 using the North Korean calendar), a particularly amusing story popped up about Kim Jong Un’s determination to:

”turn the beautiful country … into a splendid and highly civilized socialist fairyland and socialist land of bliss where the people’s ideals becomes a reality and they enjoy happiness.”

A completely insane aspiration and skewed view of North Korea’s potential given its present state of affairs. A “socialist fairyland” where millions of people do not have enough to eat…

Pondering Kim Jong Un’s delusions of grandeur, I am reminded of my own tendency to sanitize my expat experiences through selective Facebook propaganda. Viewed generously, expat life is full of travel, new experiences, foreign friends and funny anecdotes involving miscommunication with ‘the locals.’ I, for one, often leave out the true (and unfunny) negatives when talking about my own life abroad.

Here is a possible Facebook post of my own from May 2008, but with the negative subtext added:

Three months after this picture of me was taken, our daughter was twice hospitalized and we finally figured out why she was so ill: celiac disease. This discovery came after months of being told by her pediatrician overseas that she simply had one stomach illness after another and that it was all nothing to worry about. An American pediatrician finally figured it all out when we were on “home leave.”

One year after this picture was taken and after months of alternately thinking that we might move to Singapore/Hong Kong/Eindhoven/Seattle, we moved from China to Cambridge, England. Our expat life, despite what many might think, is not a case of being asked by “the company” to move to a new place. No, it is more a matter of my husband looking for a new job within his global company every two years.

I had been consumed with worry about both of these topics for months. Until it was all settled, however, I never shared a peep of true concern with anyone other than very, very close family.

Fortunately, unlike Kim Jong Un’s, my propaganda does not impair the lives of millions of people.

Damn smug Canadians … or were they Americans?

Posted by expatlingo in travel and tagged with airports, Americans, backpackers, Canadian flag, canadian flags, Canadians, cartoon, comic, expat, life abroad, people watching, Thailand, tourist, travel, Ugly American April 13, 2013

Queuing up to board a recent flight, I noticed this half of a matched-set couple:

The pair of tan, sandal-clad travelers carried black backpacks slung over their shoulders. Onto each backpack they had hand-sewn small, but prominently placed, Canadian flags.

They spoke like Americans, they looked like Americans, but they did not want to be mistaken for actual fat, loud, gun-loving American heathens. They were Canadians* and they wanted everyone to know it.

As an American, if I felt compelled to display an instant-disclaimer, a sewn-on patch like the following would be required:

But instead, I’ll just proudly hold my family’s stack of American passports in every immigration line and try to demonstrate through my actions that many of us are not “Ugly Americans.”

*Or perhaps they were Americans who thought they’d receive better treatment from locals and fellow travelers alike, if they were thought to be Canadians.

Post-script: Having just written this post in the morning, I spent the evening watching Argo, where Americans pose as Canadians to escape post-revolutionary Iran. It appears pretending to be Canadian can be frightfully useful!

Ten Tiny Tales from Chiang Mai, Thailand

Posted by expatlingo in travel and tagged with Chiang Mai, children, elephants, expat, life abroad, Thailand, tourists, travel April 2, 2013

1. Elephants are awesome. Go to Elephant Nature Park, a heaven on earth for abused and rescued elephants.

2. Small children are highly portable, but very loud. You can check quite a few sight-seeing boxes while holding a six-year-old’s hand and carrying a 2-year-old on your back. Do take them to noisy places to help drown out the whining and screeching.

3. Both satisfying and head scratching wisdom can be found in sprinkled in the trees around Wat Phra Singh.

4. American tourists are more annoying than Chinese tourists. Or maybe it’s just that I understand every single trivial, annoying word that they say about the Green Bay Packers and the slivers stuck in their feet. (See these old posts for more background on the annoying tourist wars: Ugly American, Ugly Chinese: the tourist trap and Do expats judge their “own” more harshly?)

5. Tex-Mex should not be ordered outside of select destinations in North America. I’ve previously laughed at blue-cheese-filled enchiladas in Groningen, Netherlands. This trip I fooled myself into risking a Tex-Mex meal only to be presented with a plate of tacos covered in sweet vanilla yogurt. Because it’s the same thing as sour cream, right? Wrong. I have only myself to blame.

6. Tuk-tuk rides are thrilling. In our six-year-old’s estimation, tuk-tuk rides fall below swimming, but above elephants in the hierarchy of holiday highlights.

7. For the sub-three set, chasing pigeons trumps viewing ancient temples.

8. Thai massage in a mosquito-filled room is an agonizing tug-of-war between heaven and hell.

9. The groovy backpacker trek around South-East Asia is alive and well. As a former follower of the “banana-pancake-circuit” through the foothills of the Indian Himalayas, this trite sentiment seems to ring a bell.

10. There might be more Mandarin spoken in Chiang Mai than Hong Kong. We’ve seen a large number of Mandarin-speaking independent tourists in Chiang Mai. Is it all to do with the recent Chinese blockbuster comedy, “Lost in Thailand” (人再囧途之泰囧)? Regardless, it’s nice to see a shift in tourist faces.

Next up: Phuket. Will the Germans hog all the sun-loungers? Will Mainland Chinese — gasp – hang their laundry from the balcony and talk too loudly? Will Americans be overly familiar and talk too loudly?

Imagine Hong Kong: 8 Reasons it’s an (Almost) Perfect Utopia

Posted by expatlingo in Hong Kong and tagged with expat, Expats Blog, Hong Kong, Imagine, list, living abroad, music, road trip, songs, travel March 26, 2013

We took a lot of road trips when I was little. Long, multi-day drives across the big states of the American West. And what was the soundtrack to those roads trips? Here are just a few of the singer-songwriter ballads that are permanently burned into my mind:

“Sailing” by Christopher Cross
“You’ve Got a Friend” by James Taylor
“If You Could Read My Mind” by Gordon Lightfoot
“Imagine” by John Lennon

What does this have to do with Hong Kong?

From the dredges of my childhood mind, I’ve been inspired to compose a list of Eight Reasons Hong Kong might just be John Lennon’s Imagined Utopia. Check it out over on Expats Blog and leave an amusing comment there.

After you’ve commented over there, please come back and share the music that your parents couldn’t stop listening to.

This man looks like he’s like to “Imagine” he’s not at Hong Kong Disneyland, but in front of a Tsing Tao anywhere else in the world

Saturday Night Underachiever: skirting Earth Hour and the Sevens

Posted by expatlingo in Hong Kong and tagged with comic, Earth Hour, Energy Saver, expat, Harlem Shake, Hong Kong, Lan Kwai Fong, LKF, rugby, Sevens, Star Ferry, travel March 25, 2013

My body arched as a glass hit the floor and liquid spattered across my back. I’d just finished a bowl of furnace-hot, red-speckled mapo doufu and the feeling was initially refreshing.

Then I heard slurred words of apology mumbled from behind me. The droopy-eyed Hong Kong Seven’s rugby fan had knocked over a glass. It was not water, but red wine that coated my back.

“I’mmmmm ……. reeeeeeaaaaaallllllyyyy sooooorrrrryyyyy. It’ssssss “Greeeeeeeaaaatttttt Waaaaaalllllll”……. so think about hoooooowwwwww haaaarrrd it is to driiiink.”

No use talking to someone quite that plastered, I turned back to my husband and visiting mom. The waitress rushed over some tissues and they helped me dab up the wine.

Leaving the restaurant, I made the odd decision to lead us through Lan Kwai Fong (LKF): the exact area that would be the night’s main destination for many of the over-indulging Seven’s fans. Rounding the corner, this is a slice of what we saw (shake your screen to help visualize the costumed revelers in constant motion):

It was the spitting image of the last half of any “Harlem Shake” video!

We wandered through gawking with delight at the (literally) intoxicating atmosphere. At only 9 pm, the many bar patrons already filled the street. Metal police barricades were set up to expedite officer passage as the night wore on. I sympathized with the cops who would soon be dealing with the aftermath of the cheap trays of rainbow-colored, syringe-type vodka shots being sold; the evening could only end with the street awash in Jell-O hued vomit.

Just out of LKF, I suggested we wander to the pedestrian bridge near the IFC and look at the city lights. Arriving, we gazed back at a starkly black cityscape. We had chosen to take in the lights in the middle of “Earth Hour,” the yearly period during which many city buildings turn off their non-essential lights.

Why not hop on the Star Ferry and watch the lights get switched back on at 9:30? We wandered down the pier and while waiting for the next ferry, studied this fitting public service announcement about being an energy saver:

The ferry docked and we walked down the ramp to board. Setting out across Victoria Harbor we realized that most of the lights had been turned on while we stood in the ferry terminal bathed in fluorescent lighting.

Nothing was quite right that night, but somehow it turned into a perfectly amusing evening out in Hong Kong.

Expat Lingo

Observations of a Serial Expat. American. China. England. Hong Kong.

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