While living on campus I saw a great variety of face-masks worn by the young and sometimes hip. From prissy (Hello Kitty), to decorative patterns, from to plain and straight-laced to quirky (see above). An ideal giftette for friends back home, so I thought. And indeed, Iris and Christine enjoyed the humor, and wore their masks with flair. Quite a spectacle in the middle of an Amsterdam café.

(a face-mask in Shenzhen)

> On Haizhu Bridge, over the Pearl River, 29th jan 2010

> On the overpass at Xiaobei, a neighborhood characterized by a mix of Cantonese and African traders

Nearly all the students have already headed home for the upcoming Spring Festival. Luckily (from top to bottom) Wang Nan, Li Qian, Zhan Dan Ping and Xiao Yan were still around, and so we were able to have a last dinner together to say good-bye. I feel very happy to have gotten to know them, and hope the very best for them in the future. They have been a wonderful resource of information about modern day Chinese society and I have learnt much from them. I hope they can say the same about me.

Last monday I shared a farewell lunch with Professor Tong Huiming, the head of the College of Design of the GAFA, and Jiang Jun, who introduced me to the GAFA in the first place. It felt good to be able to say my good-byes in person, and to talk a little about the views that I experienced within the department that I was teaching at this past semester.

During my stay here I have heard a lot of criticism from people within the education system itself about the disconnect between many teachers and their students. There are quite a few teachers who do not seem committed to sharing knowledge, but are more interested in upholding their status as “professor”, and using students as cheap (or even free) labor to aid them in their business practices. The attention of these teachers focuses mainly on aquiring cool highly regarded and well-paid assignments rather than investing energy in their students. In itself this is not unique. The income for teaching is often not great (not only in China) and combining your professional practice with your teaching practice can be challenging. However, in my view, in order to have any chance at effective education, there should be mutual respect, at least to begin with. A topdown approach, whereby a teacher enforces their view on the students, rather than opening up their mind and ear to the possibility of another point-of-view, is not the way forward. Within my class, there were already quite a few individuals who have thoughts, opinions of their own, and it is upsetting to see how their sometimes really good, out-of-the-box ideas are stifled by the narrow-minded focus of the leadership. And it is really frustrating to see how the work of students who, without much imagination, make works that comply to the very narrow rules that are enforced, is received with great enthusiasm because it ticks all the boxes. Sigh.

I’m hopeful that with someone with the vision of Professor Tong, who is well versed both in the culture of the Chinese education system and the politics involved, and at the same time knowledgeable about other methods of teaching, that this disconnect will change. He plans to internationalize the GAFA by taking on Chinese teachers who have had experience outside of China, either through study or work. My dear friend and colleague Hong Rongman, who studied in Holland for 2 years, is an example of such a teacher. His approach, which is open minded, smart, critical and heartfelt, connects with the students. His lessons are not a monotonous uninspired monologue but rather an enthusiastic attempt at stimulating students to look at the world in different ways. A new generation of teachers that combine a knowledge and experience of an other way of looking with their own Chinese culture is, I think, the way forward.

While in Beijing I met with Hu Fang, a writer, art critic and curator*, who very generously lent me his ear and, gave me his time, after my request to get some feedback on my perceptions of China. I’ve been coming to China now on a yearly basis since 2004, observing, absorbing, interpreting, comparing, contextualizing, processing. Each time maintaining a weblog for my visual and written notations. Throughout these past years this has been very much a solitary exercise. An indulgent undertaking resulting, until now, in a subjective collection of images and ideas that have not been exposed to, or examined by, those who know infinitely more about Chinese culture than I do.

When the opportunity to talk with Fang arose, it met with my growing craving to embark on dialogues with others about various themes that recur in my collection of possibly fanciful notions about aspects of Chinese culture.
One of those themes is the attitude towards copy vs. original, imitation vs. authentic, fake vs.genuine. Fang introduced me to the term shanzhai initially meaning “a fenced place in the forest” or “village in the mountains with stockade houses“.
It is however currently often used to refer to certain type of pirated goods in China. As I understood it, it means not a literal copy, whereby every detail is replicated, but rather it’s an almost copy. A reference to an existing product and/or brand, whereby the shanzhai product has some alterations in it that distinguish it from the original article, yet it clearly is based on an original product.

Wikipedia offers some insights on origins and usage of the word shanzhai. One of the references given is an small article in the New York Times:

[Shanzhai] associates fake products with the actions of old-time bandits who thumbed their noses at various Chinese dynasties, an increasing number of Chinese people are viewing such products as an anti-establishment symbol.(…)

*Fang is also artistic director of Vitamin Creative Space, an art space in Guangzhou.

Been, whom I met in 2007, invited me to have dinner at her place with her mother, grandfather and a close friend. A delicious meal was cooked by her friend, who comes over almost daily to cook, and exchange cooking tips with Beens mother. I sincerely enjoyed spending time at Beens place, which is way out in the sticks of Beijing (Li Yuan).
It took almost 2 hours to get there by subway, which was a reminder to me of just how huge BJ is. Li Yuan is still within the periphery of the 6th Ring Road. My starting point was in the North East, between the 2nd and 3rd Ring Road, Beens home is in the South East. How long would it take to get from the South East to the North West? And to think that there are many who make this kind of commute daily.

As Spring Festival approaches, (the Chinese New Year falls on February 14th) more and more red is appearing throughout the cityscape. No doubt that this ribbon of colour, being painstakingly applied by workers dwarfed by the drab facade, is a Spring Festival decoration.