polymorphism

Music is universal. People speaking different languages find a shared language in music. It can be personal and also private, as well. Music is different, just like people are different. The Mainland, Taiwan, and Hong Kong are often referred as “Two Shores, Three Places,” because they’re divided by the Taiwan Strait and three different systems. The music in these “three places” is interlaced yet also unique to their region.

The Taiwanese music industry has consistently produced the finest pop music in the past three decades and talent seems to pass down to younger generations. In my opinion, they’re the best in female vocal music accompanied on the piano. Yet more importantly, many Taiwanese musicians don’t see music as a business, but as an art form to express themselves, and a media to record the dramatic changes in Taiwan. They have done it so gracefully and faithfully that I can feel a sense of historical responsibility and an inherent urge to seek higher wisdom in some of their music. Musician Luo Dayou is a good example; he combines keen observational social issues with his musical skills.

Luo Dayou was a brain surgery physician. The best brain surgery he did was not on a patient but on Taiwan itself. His first album “Zhi Hu Zhe Ye,” released in 1982, was the most significant album in Taiwanese music history. Among “The 100 Greatest Albums of Taiwan (1975 – 1993),” this album was ranked number one. Luo’s second album “The Protagonist of the Future” is even more mature and its lyrics were later included in school textbooks. Luo was controversial and was called a “protestor.” But his third album “Home” was a surprising return to his roots. Home, homeland, and parent’s love have been a structural theme throughout his music since then.

Under too many demands from supporters and attacks from the other side, Luo left Taiwan and moved to New York in 1985 and then settled in Hong Kong in 1987. Living abroad made him not only think about Taiwan but also the entire Chinese race. He came back with one of his best albums, “Comrade Lover.” Luo established his studio Music Factory and released a string of more ambitious albums, “Queen’s Rd East,” “Yuan Xiang (Original Land),” and “Capital.” These albums coincidently used three geographic terms in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the Mainland as their title. They touched upon China’s history, reality and destiny. They’re not as successful as Luo’s early works in term of commercial and artistic values, but they’re a bold experiment and valuable records for everyone who lived in that era.

Luo is no longer as prolific as before. But he can always give his followers a surprise. I consider his newest 2-CD album “Beautiful Island” to be his third best album. And his performance with friends in this year’s New Year Gala, the most watched show in China every year, brought back a lot of happy memories for the audience.

Mainland’s music development came later than Taiwan’s. Their music is much harder and stronger. Like Taiwan, the Mainland has many singers who use their guitar and voice to document what they see and how they think. But their approach is noticeably different from their Taiwanese cousins. While Taiwanese singers observe and tell people’s stories, the Mainlanders often tell their own stories to reflect the society. They are extremely candid, more involving and more personal. This creates a warm feeling. By listening to their music, you simply know them. Luo Dayou is a master, while Mainland rock musicians are heroes.

To understand more on Mainland music movement, please read my previous article “The Origins of Chinese Rock Music”.

Hong Kong is the most Westernized place among the three. Meanwhile it has become the stronghold of Cantonese culture. The best voice from Hong Kong is Faye Wong. I find it impossible to describe her character. If I had to choose one word to explain what attracts me, I would say “longing” – her longing for something that is so beautiful and precious that it can’t exist in the mundane world. She’s a little mysterious, barely talking about her feelings in the media. She’s extremely popular but doesn’t want to be bothered by others. She’s a little rebellious but not very much, because she doesn’t care about the absurd and ironic outside world after all. She’s happy for small things and doesn’t ask for more, even when she deserves much more. Should I say her life is wasted, or ultimately a healthy attitude to deal with real life? No matter. She can’t be judged.

That longing can only exist when one is living an illusion where nothing is real and nothing lasts. Maybe even Faye herself is an illusion. I can’t tell if what we see in her is her true self or a carefully manufactured persona. But does it even matter? Why don’t we just listen to her songs and enjoy the love in her music.

Faye was a Beijing girl. She moved to Hong Kong when she was 18. The most important man in her life was Dou Wei, her musical partner and first husband. When she moved back to Beijing and lived with Dou Wei in 1996, entertainment reporters from Hong Kong discovered that Faye, the superstar, was living in an old traditional alley that didn’t even have private toilets! There was a pretty woman with a beautiful voice and an attractive man with great talent, who had sacrificed anything for their love. Weren’t they a perfect couple? Faye and Dou Wei had one daughter; but then they later divorced. Dou Wei, a once prominent rock musician, has switched to a totally different domain: traditional instrumental music. Faye married a boring actor and formed a happy family. How interesting.

Taiwanese music is culture. Mainland music is heart. Hong Kong music is illusion. I don’t mean to stereotype them, for they cannot be stereotyped. They salute and enrich each other.

Xidan Book Building, one of the largest bookstores of Beijing, is quite a sight. The four-floor building has endless shelves and aisles packed with books and readers. It can easily keep one awestruck. Just imagine the work behind every book. Every book takes its author several years to finish and then takes editors several months, if not years, to edit and publish. This book superstore displays hundreds of thousands of books, which is only a small fraction of new books published every year in this country. I feel humbled and awed every time I walked into the vast space of this bookstore.

But, for book lovers, there are many different choices beside superstores. Large bookstores are located in commercial districts. They are often too crowded, and despite their huge collections of popular books, they cannot meet everyone’s needs.

On the northwest side of Beijing reside the best colleges and universities of China. There are some distinguished bookstores near the campuses. Two of my favorites are Fengrusong and Wansheng (or All Sages).

They don’t seem distinguished from the outside at all. Fengrusong is located on the underground level of an office building outside of Peking University. Conversely, to enter All Sages, customers have to climb up narrow and steep stairs. It’s the books that make the stores different. Like I said, an average book, perhaps, takes its author several years to complete. But here, many books took a scholar’s lifetime to accomplish. These bookstores are quiet. Their visitors are students and scholars. I once saw a student who was the most shortsighted person I have ever seen in my life. He literally put the book on his nose to read the page, like smelling it. The gesture was imprinted in my memory.

The bonds between the bookstores and their customers are uncommonly strong, which can be reflected in an interesting story I overheard in the dialogue between Liu Suli, the owner of All Sages, and a Japanese publisher,  Kato Keiji.  There was a rumor going around that Mr. Liu was about to close down All Sages and move to the United States. A great uproar ensued. Customers angrily accosted him. “You think,” exclaimed one, “that you can open this store, then close it down whenever you feel like it?” It is exactly that deep connection that encourages Liu. He said, “Clearly, All Sages has become something much bigger than the enterprise of just one individual.”

Fengrusong and All Sages are specialized in certain fields. For those who are not serious readers, there are small bookstores and stands for casual reading. When I was in middle school, the city’s streets had a lot of stalls selling clothes, small electronics, and foods. Book stalls were plenty too. I supposed the owners were not highly educated people, but their collections were decent, from comic books and wuxia novels (a type of fantasy fiction about kung fu society) to poems and economics and stock market analysis. About  10 years ago, those stalls were eliminated from the streets, giving space to sidewalks and lawns. Markets were converted to shopping malls. I can’t say I miss those stalls, but I miss those old days very much. Toward the year’s end, I would go to those stalls with friends to select holiday cards for classmates, in the cold winter winds of Beijing, with a baked sweet potato in my hand.

My nostalgia aside, no one really wants to read books outside in wintertime with numb fingers. However, there are exceptions. Book markets are a good place to get discounted books! Parks have regular book markets for readers. They often happen once a season, and last for one or two weeks. They are not arranged by bookstores, but by publishers, which is one of the reasons for lower prices. On weekends, these markets can be a festival to book lovers. Shopping for books in parks is no doubt a pleasant experience.

There are also some bars called “book bars” that have opened in recent years, which I haven’t visited yet.

I don’t know what will happen to all these places when Internet book sellers arise to dominance. I hope they won’t disappear. I believe readers need bookstores.

      I traveled to Europe this fall. Many times during the trip — when I was walking on La Rambla and it was teeming with people, florist shops, and street performers, when I was eating a piece of pizza bought from a street side shop — I felt so well and so right and couldn’t help comparing America with Europe. Why can’t we have such a life?

      Europeans seem slimmer, happier, and possibly poorer than Americans. Their cars are smaller. They walk and talk to strangers more often than we do.

      In America, streets are mainly for driving. In other countries, streets are primarily for walking.

      In America, wherever we go, we tend to drive. One day when I was driving, I noticed a simple fact that I had often seen but didn’t comprehend before: there was no single human face showing on the street at that moment. We’re living in a city of cars. These cars actually have personality. Some cars are friendly, some are not so much, some are snappy, and some are stocky. Cars are like our shells. We build a shell around us to carry us to a destination. There are no people on the streets, only shells floating around. Does it sound like a “daymare”?

      With cars, we move to suburbs, build a castle called home. Sometimes I even wonder, “Do Americans like people?” Why do we isolate ourselves like this? I prefer a condo or a flat, but I was scared when someone told me it’s a bad investment because they are difficult to sell.

      Every workday during lunch break, we drive to a nearby fast food restaurant, grab a hamburger and a soda, and finish them quickly. We can even eat in the car to save more time. I feel angry about fast food. They cook without thinking. They don’t think how to make food tasty. There are no cooking skills or styles involved whatsoever. They only think about how to make more money out of food.

      Europeans eat in small restaurants with colleagues. They chat and their lunch takes a longer time. Not as efficient. But which life would you call a happy life?

      Population density determines many aspects of life.

      I’m from Asia, a populous continent where people are forced to interact. For example, in college, six to eight students are assigned to the same dormitory and they would live together for several years. (The dorm condition might have improved by now.) I can honestly say that it’s not bad at all, as some might imagine. Strong bonds are built among these students. The power of growing up together is immense. My best friends are from my student years, from elementary school to college.

      Some may ask, but what if a jerk is assigned to be my roommate? In fact, there’re much fewer jerks in the world than we think. If you live with a supposed “jerk” under the same roof for four years, you will discover what makes him laugh and what makes him cry, how he talks to his mom, how he struggles for his dream, how he falls in love, and perhaps how he loses his love.

      During the process, one acquires a better understanding of people. It becomes easier, even a habit, to understand other people’s perspectives. Then we can talk about many things other than sports and weather.

      Population density determines urban shape as well. Suburban neighborhoods cannot afford restaurants and shops in walking distance. Small businesses won’t survive because there’s not enough customers. So people drive farther to find places for eating and shopping. When we get into the car, it doesn’t make a big difference whether we drive five minutes or 15 minutes. So we’ll end up in a warehouse store where parking is easier, and goods are cheaper and plenty. Colorful urban life cannot exist in suburbs, just like one-stop shopping at warehouse stores cannot exist without cars.

      Having complained so much, I don’t mean that I don’t like American life. Between America and Europe, I still prefer living in the U.S. Of course, as a tourist, I tend to admire rather than criticize what I see in Europe. And tourist cities might just look artificially happier than they really are. However, traveling abroad is an enriching experience. Seeing other cultures allows us to reflect on ourselves and see alternative possibilities for the future.

The TV drama series “The Courtyard of the Qiaos” tells the story of Qiao Zhiyong, the most powerful banker in the late Qing Dynasty. In one of his last days, when Qiao had become a slow and old man, he said to his wife, “I had a strange dream last night. I dreamed of this courtyard. There were a lot of strange people in the yard. They looked like us, but they were not us. They spoke Chinese but I could not understand them. They dressed differently and acted differently. I couldn’t recognize who they were.”

That is a well designed ending. The show doesn’t conclude with the end of this character’s life. It sets our eyes on the long history before and after him. The strange people Qiao dreamed about were us, people living today. Qiao knew the country was undergoing dramatic changes and the generations after him would be entirely different. His words raised an interesting question: What has changed since then and what has not?

I like reading classic Chinese poems and stories. I can connect with Chinese ancestry this way, although I am much different. Their time has long gone and can never be reached again. Even the rivers and mountains we live around and love today look different from the land they lived in and loved. I feel so connected, yet so disconnected to them.

Ancient Chinese were very proud of their civilization. They believed they had found the law and pattern of history, and they should follow the mandate of heaven. They believed they lived in the center of the world and wrongly called their neighboring countries “barbarians.” In Emperor Qian Long’s reply to British King George III, he wrote, “You, O King, live beyond the confines of many seas, nevertheless, impelled by your humble desire to partake of the benefits of our civilization, you have dispatched a mission respectfully bearing your memorial. … To show your devotion, you have also sent offerings of your country’s produce. I have read your memorial: the earnest terms in which it is cast reveal a respectful humility on your part, which is highly praiseworthy.”

Qian Long, arguably the second greatest emperor of Qing, might have valid reasons for his confidence and lofty tone. Obviously, he didn’t foresee the future of the island nation living “beyond the confines of many seas.” I don’t know if people are arrogant because they are ignorant, or they become ignorant for they are too arrogant to learn, then and now. I do know that this arrogance led to ultimate corruption and a century of disasters in China. The rest is history.

Today, the Forbidden City has become a public museum. People, like Qiao dreamed, dress differently and act differently. However, has everything really changed? I don’t think so.

Not everyone has read the Four Great Classics, but many know the stories of the four novels. Not many study the text of Confucianism, Buddhism, Taoism, Mohism, and Legalism, but people are familiar with many of their principles and quotations. Their teachings formed the Chinese culture and became the Chinese  language. In particular, the past few years were marked by the rise of “guoxue” (studies of national classics). Indeed, seeking one’s spiritual root is a natural consequence when one is materially satisfied.

The most ideal personality in tradition is called “Junzi”, which can be roughly translated as “gentleman.” What is a Junzi? What is not a Junzi?

Junzi is never about mediocrity. The “Book of Changes” described Junzi’s attitude. The “Book of Changes” is an arcane ancient book; most of its contents can only be comprehended by fortunetellers. Studying the law of the eight basic elements of the world, the book sheds light on what a Junzi should do to follow the profound design of nature. It reads: “Heaven’s movement is ever vigorous, so must Junzi strive without rest. Earth is ever low and stable, so must Junzi bear, with great virtue.”

The philosophy is always about two seemingly opposite yet interrelated things, yin and yang. One must mediate between the two. That is the relationship between Heaven and Earth, and between vigorousness and stability. Junzi is also an “Inner Saint and Outer King,” a harmony between mind and appearance, a consistence of motivation and behavior, and a unity of objective and method.

Junzi never retreats from society. Junzi should bring his ideals to society. Mencius told us, “In obscurity, one should pursue a private moral life. In times of success, one should nurture the world Under Heaven.” Junzi has great ambitions. There is balance between mission and personal life, too. Not everyone has the capability and opportunity to realize his ideals, though everyone can at least live a moral life and stand on their principles.

Junzi is not simply about being nice and caring. In the Analects of Confucius, someone asked Confucius, “What do you say concerning the principle that injury should be recompensed with kindness?” A common response to injury is often “an eye for an eye,” though should enlightened person treat viciousness with kindness? Confucius replied, “With what then will you recompense kindness?” Treating everyone equally with kindness is a common pitfall and logically a misconception. Doing that, one removes the line between right and wrong, and essentially loses moral standards. Confucius then pointed out the third choice. The Master said, “Recompense injury with justice, and recompense kindness with kindness.”

Reading the classics is a pleasure. Some universal questions, about life and death, about humanity and society, eternally puzzle every generation. I always feel puzzled. Our ancestry had their answers. These answers can be a guide to a peaceful and meaningful life in a very different world, too.

May 12, 2008, Sichuan. It was a common Monday just like any other day. In an elementary school, teacher Wu was conducting a class. In a resident apartment, Mr. Wang and his wife were watching a DVD. He just returned from work in another province. The couple were enjoying the precious moment of being together. In streets, cab drivers were complaining about the traffic. Somewhere in the city, a young mom was looking at her newborn baby. The baby was only 4 months old, as tender as dew in the morning.

They didn’t know their lives would be forever changed, and that many of them would never see the blue sky again.

At 2:28 p.m., a magnitude 8 earthquake struck Wenchuan county of Sichuan …

Tens of thousands perished in the catastrophe. I have seen heart-wrenching pictures from Sichuan. I saw so many that I decided I could not see any more. The sorrow had somehow sunk in, and has become not only a part of my news reading, but a part of my life. Every day I woke up, I would feel that day as different from yesterday. And there are some other pictures haunting my mind, the pictures of the moment before the earthquake, of the ordinary folks we see every day. The disaster changed their lives, and it changed me too. It made me believe in people. I didn’t know these people were heroes inside. They are the people I can count on, they will come to save me when I am in danger, even at the risk of their own lives, and I would do the same for them.

When the earthquake struck, teacher Wu carried his students from the classroom to the ground. But when he realized that a few students had been left behind, he rushed back without hesitation. He sacrificed his life to save his students. Many teachers made the same choice. Rescuers found students under the protection of their teacher’s body. The teachers were Tan Qianqiu, Zhang Miya, Yuan Wenting …

Mr. and Ms. Wang were buried under rubble. In tremendous pain and desperation, the couple supported each other. They whispered about their life and their daughter, about the moment when they first met, and what they would do when they got out alive. The only thing giving them hope to hang on in the endless darkness was love. They were rescued the next day.

The mom of the four-month old was buried with her baby. She shielded him with her own body. When they were discovered by rescuers, she had died while her baby survived. People found a message to the child in the mom’s cell phone. It read, “If you can survive, always remember that I love you.”

Her love, and the love of many who died or survived, will be remembered. On May 19, a week after the earthquake, the whole country of China held a moment of silence. Time seemed frozen. Cars came to a halt. A billion people stood silent for three minutes, while the only sound in the air was sirens. The citizens gathered in the square of Sichuan capital were holding hands. After the mourning, however, they rallied, “Be strong! Go, China, Go!” Witnessing the solidarity, unyielding spirit, and commonly seen altruism, a reporter wrote, “The earth broke open, but rifts between hearts are healed.”

Within two hours after the earthquake, Prime Minister Wen Jiabao had arrived in Chengdu from Beijing. During the days and nights of the crisis, he proved to be the best prime minister since Zhou Enlai. More than 100,000 soldiers were mobilized, including parachute troopers who entered the towns in mountain areas that were completely cut off from rescue due to landslides. At the end of a CNN interview with a village’s local authority, the reporter asked the official if his own family was okay. He shook his head, weeping, and then returned to his work. Many local firefighters, police, doctors and nurses who had lost their own family worked around the clock to help others. They didn’t have time to mourn, to rest, or even to think about what had happened. The only thing on their minds was to save lives and fulfill their duties.

Disaster relief is always a duty of the government and sometimes of the army too. But this time, the entire nation joined the effort. According to eyewitnesses, “Within hours, people rushed to rescue. Blood donation lines ran for a hundred yards, and people waited hours to donate blood. Within 24 hours, all major blood banks ran out of storage space. The highway to the earthquake-struck city of Dujiangyan was almost jammed one hour after the quake; not by people fleeing the aftershocks, but by volunteers, led by over a thousand taxi drivers, who came from Chengdu to rescue.” In an online discussion, when asked by anxious people whether they needed more hands, a volunteer actually politely refused, “We have enough people. Please do not come if you are not a trained rescuer, because volunteers, too, will consume water, which is in shortage now.”

China was not alone in the disaster relief efforts after the quake.The seismic waves was literally felt as far as Thailand and Russia. People across the globe provided great help to China, including monetary donation and other forms of aid. Taiwan, a longtime political rival of China, promised a heartwarmingly huge donation of $65,000,000. South Korea, Russia and other countries sent in rescue teams. Australia, Finland, India, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, Norway, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and many other countries sent significant donations for disaster relief. Many of them are not rich countries, and many are far away from Asia, but they all extended helping hands. The U.S., too, offered a $500,000 donation.

The month was a very difficult and painful time for every Chinese. We saw flattened cities, ruined homes, heartbreaking sacrifices, and lost lives. The earthquake was a trauma for the nation. When Premier Wen visited surviving students, he wrote a Chinese classic teaching on the chalkboard, “Distress rejuvenates a nation.” That is the spirit needed to rebuild our homes.

About 30 years ago, finding a foreigner who spoke Chinese was akin to a miracle. Now, the number of foreigners speaking Chinese is growing, as many people venture to China for study, work, or travel. Nearly 50 million tourists visit China every year. More than 50,000 Koreans live Beijing. In a small commodity-wholesale city Yiwu, about 10 thousand foreigners are doing business. Half of them are from the Middle East. I am not sure of the exact number of foreigners living in China. However, from figures mentioned above, the total number is conceivably large.

These people come to China for various reasons and have been a positive and constructive part of the society. I always feel grateful for their contribution. They are curious about the country, its history, and its people. In like manner, the Chinese are curious about them, too.

I’ll talk about two such people. Coincidently, they are both Australians.

People call the two best cinematographers “Northern Gu and Southern Du”. Northern Gu is Gu Changwei, who lives in Beijing and is a long time partner of Zhang Yimou. Southern Du is Du Kefeng of Hong Kong, who has worked on a wide range of films and is most famous for his contribution to films directed by Wong Kar-wai, my most favorite Hong Kong director. Du Kefeng, which means “like the wind” (I wish I had a name like that), is the Chinese name of Christopher Doyle.

I have long known Du Kefeng because I often saw his name listed as a cinematographer in movies. But I didn’t know he is White until I saw “Comrades, Almost a Love Story”, a movie in which he played a small role as a drunken English teacher. When I saw him on the screen, I was totally confused. “So, Du Kefeng is not Chinese?” Maybe Doyle himself is puzzled by his identity too. He once joked about himself being “a Chinese with some skin disease” (referring to his white skin).

Doyle spent much of his youth travelling the world. He was a cowherd in Israel, a well-digger in Indian, a doctor of Chinese medicine in Thailand. He studied at the University of Hong Kong and then joined the art sphere. The shining list of directors he has worked with is enviable to any cinematographer: Edward Yang in Taiwan, Wong Kar-wai in Hong Kong, Zhang Yimou, Chen Kaige, and Zhang Yuan in Beijing. He partially defined, and is partially defined by, the films of Wong Kar-wai, which are distinguished for vanguard camera angles and movements, stylish colors, and manipulation of film speed . In Doyle’s camera, the city and people of Hong Kong, from the sixties to the nineties, are so charming and unforgettable.

Another Australian who speaks fluent Chinese and caught my interest recently is the Prime Minister of Australia, Kevin Rudd. An interesting exchange took place during the Boao Forum for Asia, a world leader and entrepreneur summit held annually in Boao. After the President of Kazakhstan gave a surprise speech in Chinese, the host of the meeting thanked him for the great speech. He then turned to Rudd, who had been an active and popular speaker because of his proficient Chinese. “Kevin, you’ve got a serious challenger this year,” The host warned.

Rudd majored in Chinese language and history. Using Chinese concepts and vocabulary makes his speeches more influential among a Chinese audience. In his speech to students at Beijing University in April, Rudd suggested building a relationship of “zheng-you” between Australia and China.  He said,
A true friend is one who can be a “zhengyou”, that is a partner who sees beyond immediate benefit to the broader and firm basis for continuing, profound and sincere friendship. In other words, a true friendship which “offers unflinching advice and counsels restraint” to engage in principled dialogue about matters of contention. It is the kind of friendship that I know is treasured in China’s political tradition. It is the kind of friendship that I also offer China today.

People often judge outsiders with the question “Are you with us or against us?” They are unlikely to compromise under realistic or perceived pressures and threats. A genuine behavior change can only be achieved through reason from within, rather than dictation from the outside. What Rudd meant was, “We’re with you in principle, but may disagree with you on many specific matters.” He appeared as a partner and a helper, not a lecturer. China needs help and has a lot to learn from other countries, especially developed countries. Rudd’s words, citing the tradition of zhengyou, are easier for his audience to understand, and help remove the doubts about the motives of criticisms from the West. Rudd’s effort to lay a foundation of mutual understanding and trust is a good step toward building a long-term, healthy relationship. The change may not be immediate. But his genuine tone of his speech will be remembered by officials and the public.

Factories are closing down and moving to new locations due to rising wages and strict labor laws. Unemployed workers are hiring lawyers to sue their former bosses… Does it sound all familiar? This new is not from America, however, but from China.

Outsourcing, off-shoring, and consequent job losses have been a key political topic this election year. Should Americans blame globalization or countries like China and India? The answer is not within the boundary of the U.S. Even though China is supposed to be the destination of manufacturers, the industrial migration can happen everywhere.

Guangdong province has been a front runner in manufacturing since China’s economic reform. But this year, media reported unusual high factory closings in the Pearl River Delta of Guangdong. According to Federation of Hong Kong Industries, 10% of an estimated 60,000 to 70,000 Hong Kong-run factories in this region will close this year.

The change already started occurring in the past few years. Starting in 2002, labor intensive industries, including clothes and toys, experienced labor shortage. Apparently, there was no absolute labor shortage in a country of more than 1 billion people. But factories found it more and more difficult to hire enough experienced workers at the low salaries they offered.

This year, the labor market was profoundly reshaped by a new labor law. This law requires that employees be on formal-term contracts, and that they can only be terminated for cause. It is closer to Japan’s “employment for life” than the U.S. practice.

Another factor is the revaluation of China’s currency. Chinese Yuan, or RMB, used to have a pegged rate of RMB8.27 to US$1. The policy served well for its export-oriented economic development. In a floating exchange rate system, when a nation’s export volume surges, its currency tends to rise against other currencies. This appreciation will inversely repress further increase of export, because their products become more expensive. So a floating exchange rate system works like a stabilizer of international trade and present world order. Understandably, developed countries favor this system, while new emerging economies see it as an obstacle to overcome.

However, a pegged exchange rate is a double-edged sword. With a devalued currency, a country can sell cheap. On the other hand, it has to pay more for imported goods. Many economists believe that RMB is undervalued. In 2005, RMB started to appreciate, and it will continue, it seems. Since the beginning of this year, RMB has raised 4% against the U.S. dollar. This, too, will increase Chinese factories’ costs.

Yet another new phenomenon is high inflation. China had been growing fast under reasonable inflation for over a decade until last year. Inflation first appeared in the price of pork, when animal disease caused a pork shortage. Just when people thought the price hike had passed, a nation-wide snowstorm this February caused food prices to rise again. The government has frozen key prices — ranging from food to gasoline. It no longer matters whether the inflation was initiated by a series of accidents or by fundamental economic change, when the expectation and momentum of inflation is formed, it is difficult to control.

The closedown of many factories might also be a foreseeable result of policy change. China used to encourage export by giving these companies tax rebates. Now tax breaks are diminishing, and taxes have increased from 5% - 8% to 12% in some factories. Guangdong provincial officials, feeling competition from Shanghai and Yangtze River Delta, are trying to persuade low-end businesses to move to inland counties, where wages are lower, so that well-developed cities can upgrade their industries.

New labor law, currency revaluation, inflation, and policy change; all these factors add up. The industry’s cost is increasing unexpectedly. This comes at a bad time, when the U.S. economy, the largest client, is slowing down too. Some companies are considering relocating to other countries, while some simply shut down. The most dire situation would be that all these factories move out of China, leaving nothing but a memory of a short period of prosperity.

China still needs labor intensive industries to keep unemployment rate down. To maintain their competitiveness, companies are investing more in technology, management, and their employees. The productivity of Chinese factories is still much higher than other developing countries. Another advantage is economy of scale. Businesses tend to live closer to their suppliers and clients. If an entire industry is in China, it costs a company more to relocate to another place alone.

Industrial migration will eventually happen. But if the factories can be gradually guided to inland provinces, and the country can develop a service-based economy and a mature domestic market in time, people will benefit from the shift.

In his book “The Age of Turbulence”, Alex Greenspan says that even mighty economies like the U.S. and China cannot prevent globalization. I think this progress is not automatically good for everyone and will cause sacrifice. But the outcome depends on how smart everyone plays in the game. There will be a lot of challenges awaiting the U.S. and Asian countries alike. Will China’s lessons, good or bad, be learned by the rest of us?

Good news! Two new Kung Fu movies are coming this summer: “Kung Fu Panda”, and “The Forbidden Kingdom”. Kung Fu Panda is an animated comedy film by DreamWorks, featuring Jack Black as the leading voice actor. The Forbidden Kingdom is a mythical adventure movie about a Boston boy who teleports to ancient China through a mysterious force and meets — guess who? — the Monkey King! For Jackie Chan and Jet Li fans, the movie is a must-see, because this is the first collaboration of the two actors.

Many Hollywood movies incorporate kung fu elements in them, including The Matrix, Kill Bill, and movies made by Jackie Chan and Jet Li for Hollywood. In the case of Kung Fu Panda and The Forbidden Kingdom, the stories are even set in China. Despite this, they are not typical kung fu movies. Yet, kung fu movie, as a genre, probably cannot be narrowly defined. It has been evolving and changing since its beginnings.

I know little about kung fu movies prior to the ’80s. Of course I know Bruce Lee and really liked some of his movies. Compared to later generations, I have to say the actions in old movies are much slower. Jackie Chan changed kung fu movies with his action comedies, which are often set in modern times. He is fast, strong and astonishingly flexible. Every ordinary place can become a battlefield for him. Everything in his hands can become a weapon. Chan’s sense of humor and popularity has transformed him into a cultural icon. Regardless of their age, fans in Hong Kong call him “big brother”.

While Jackie Chan is a trained kung fu master, not everyone can act like him. The film industry changed kung fu when it incorporated wired acrobatic technique into filmmaking. When the wire technique was combined with wide-angle camera and quick montage, filmmakers created a new and wild visual effect. It seemed very real. Actually it’s better and cooler than real! People could fly, and fight in a seemingly impossible way, as if gravity didn’t exist. The most successful ones from this period were Swordsman 2, and New Dragon Gate Inn, a remake of classic Dragon Gate Inn.

Moviegoers loved this new creation. But it rendered a new problem to actors. Their kung fu skills became more and more irrelevant, because everyone could instantly act like a master. Moreover, the market for kung fu movies had cooled down. Jackie Chan and Jet Li moved to Hollywood, leaving a vacuum in the Chinese film industry. Many don’t realize its profound consequence. To me, I see a gap between kung fu superstars. Bruce Lee was born in 1940, Jackie Chan in 1954, while Jet Li in 1963. Every decade has its own superstar. But this cycle was broken. In the nineties, there were notable efforts to create a new and younger superstar, though the industry failed in doing so because of the change in the market’s landscape. Will there be any more kung fu superstars? I hope so.

New opportunities in kung fu movies appeared from an unexpected director, Ang Lee (Sense and Sensibility, Brokeback Mountain). In many respects, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon was a strange movie. It was written, directed and performed by Chinese, but it was produced by Hollywood and targeted to the American market. Despite its success in the U.S., the movie received only a lukewarm response in China. Only many years later, I could imagine how much the movie inspired other Chinese filmmakers. Their conclusions seemed to be that Chinese film industry could operate like Hollywood, and kung fu was the key to entering the American market.

Zhang Yimou made “Hero” in 2002. And everything changed.

This was yet another surprise from an unlikely director. Zhang Yimou was not a commercial director at all. He made art films and was a frequent winner of different European film awards. With Hero, he defined an aesthetic standard. Equally importantly, he copied Hollywood business modes. Yes, it’s about money. Build an all-star cast from different regions, be it Hong Kong, Taiwan, Korea, or Japan. This will guarantee a movie’s success in overseas markets. Invest heavily in filmmaking and marketing alike. Big budget makes it possible for directors to pursue their perfectness, and generate lucrative profits. In this decade, we’re witnessing a wave of ever higher budgeted movies from the Chinese film industry. Some failed miserably; some won applause. Fairly speaking, they’re making good progress and have attracted more people back to the theatre.

Kung Fu Panda and The Forbidden Kingdom both promise to be good choices for summertime entertainment. Back in the Chinese market, this year will be dominated by war movies. The most anticipated one is Red Cliff, directed by John Woo. Its cost has approached US$100 million. I hope it is worth the money, and I am ready to feel the trembling.

In January, four Chinese automakers showed up at Detroit’s International Auto Show: BYD, Geely, Changfeng, and ZX. This was not the first time that Chinese companies came to the show. But this year I saw more reports in the media about their presence, probably due to their improved quality and design, as well as rising concerns on China-U.S. trade issues.

It’s very clear that you won’t see Chinese cars in America this year. But it’s equally clear that their arrivals are inevitable and more competitions in the auto market will benefit consumers.

China’s auto industry is a fast growing sector. China produced 2 million cars in 2001. In 2007, the figure leaped to 9 million, only trailing the U.S. and Japan. During this progress, several local companies have emerged as promising players. I will briefly introduce three of them.

Chery
Chery is the largest homegrown auto company. Unlike giant Shanghai Auto and First Auto that make cars under foreign brands, Chery developed its own business model. In many respects, Chery is still a low-technology company. They outsource many design jobs to Europe. But over years, they have accumulated experience managing the entire car-making process, and have established their own brand. Last year, Chery signed a cooperation contract with Chrysler to design and build small Dodge-branded cars that target overseas markets. The contract was perceived as a confidence vote from a major auto company on Chery’s quality control.

Chery is a good example of how to succeed in the age of globalization. Consumers don’t care in which country a product is designed, manufactured, assembled, and where its components come from. What is important are the expertise and available resources tapped right. Chery has demonstrated the ability to incorporate these resources to meet customers’ needs.

BYD
Even among Chinese car companies, BYD is one of the youngest. BYD is a dominating manufacturer in global battery market. 72% of cell phone batteries are made by this company. The profit from their core business enabled them to expand to the auto industry in 2003. And their strength directly stems from their battery technology.

In the Detroit show, BYD attracted a lot of attentions with their plug-in hybrid car. The power system of a hybrid car consists of a gas engine, an electric engine, and a battery that supports the electric engine. Today’s hybrid car charges the battery by the gas engine and the momentum of the car itself. But a plug-in hybrid can be charged directly by home electricity. You can park your car in your garage, plug it in, and it will be fully charged for you the next day. It is even more energy efficient.

BYD developed a new kind of battery called ferrous battery, different from the lithium batteries widely used today. The technology boosts the performance of BYD’s hybrid cars. Their plan is to commercialize this technology this summer. If they succeed, this will be the first car of its kind in the world, at least two years ahead of Toyota and GM, who both announced their plans to introduce plug-in hybrids in 2010.

Brilliance
Brilliance is among the few high end Chinese brands. They initially built their high quality image through a joint venture with BMW. They make BMW cars for the Chinese market, and their own brand designs are significantly influenced by BMW. Even though some Chinese companies are accused of stealing ideas from established brands, it never happened to Brilliance. I like their style very much and personally think they build the best looking Chinese cars. I, myself, will seriously consider owning a Brilliance when they become available in the U.S. As of today, Americans may think it’s a bizarre idea to buy a Chinese car. But I believe when consumers see a real car in the showroom, or even have a test drive, that idea will become tangible.

So that begs the question: when will we see Chinese cars in America? They have been selling in the Middle East, North Africa, Russia, and Europe. But it will still take years for Chinese companies to get ready for the U.S. The U.S. auto market is the most competitive market in the world, and is likely the last country for the Chinese to work on. But according to some news, a small company called Zhongxing (or ZX) will start selling SUVs and pickups as early as 2009. Most Chinese companies don’t have marketing channels in the U.S., but ZX has a North American distributor CHAMCO. This might be their unique advantage to become the first Chinese car in the U.S. Will they succeed? We’ll need a little patience to wait and see.

The most popular and serious board games in China are chess and Go.

Chinese chess is very similar to European chess. In both games, you have an army and a king, you command your army to destroy your enemy, and capture the rival king to win the game. The two games bear some differences too. For example, Chinese chess doesn’t have queens and rooks. Instead, it has royal guards, artilleries, and war chariots. And the king and his guards must stay in the “palace”.

It’s not surprising that the two chess games resemble each other in many ways. They were both designed to simulate warfare. The fundamental ideas in them are the same. But the other game, Go, is in a whole different domain.

Go originated in ancient China. It’s not certain when exactly Go was invented. The earliest reference of the game found today was written in the fourth century BC. The game took a thousand years to reach Japan and Korea, and another thousand years to spread to the whole world. The English name “Go” is a translation from Japan. I personally don’t like the translation very much. Its original Chinese name “Weiqi” literally means “siege”, which presents the gist of the game very well.

Go gives me of a feeling of mysteriousness, primitive yet delicate. I often feel Go has a deep philosophy in it. The game is played on a 19 X 19 grid. Imagine this grid is the universe in which we live. Unlike chess which uses kings and soldiers, Go only has black and white stones. Every one of them is equal. Imagine these stones are lives, are yin and yang. When a stone is placed on the board, in order to live, it must have space to “breathe”. A common intersection on the grid has four surrounding intersections (the intersections on borders and corners, of course, have fewer adjacent intersections). If all four points are possessed by opponent stones, the stone in the center is considered “dead”, because it has no surrounding empty space to “breathe”. The dead stone should be removed from the board, leaving a new empty space for others. Isn’t the game marvelous?

It is lengthy to introduce Go’s rules and objective without illustrations. In general, the rules of Go are perceived as very simple. Nevertheless, it’s the most complicated board game in the world. The possible combination of chess is somewhere between 10⁴⁰ and 10⁴⁵, while Go creates 10¹⁰⁰ (1 followed by 100 zeros) combinations. Exhausting all possibilities by brute computing force helped Deep Blue, a super computer, defeated world chess champion Garry Kasparov in 1997. But Go’s complexity makes it impossible to solve the game with today’s computer technology.

Ancient Chinese classified Go players by nine ranks. I don’t know the formal translation of their titles. The best translations I came up with are: (from the lowest to the highest,) Conservation, Simplicity, Prowess, Finesse, Strategy, Enlightenment, Realization, Introversion, and Divinity. From the titles, one can tell that the game doesn’t encourage skills and calculation, but appreciates vision and cultivation.

Today, Japan, Korea and China have the best professional Go players in the world.

Japan has a strong tradition of Go playing. Most of the greatest Go masters of last century lived in Japan. But nowadays Japan’s youth are attracted more to video games and other modern entertainment than the ancient board game. The country is lacking a young generation of Go players.

The Koreans are playing a significant role. Lee Chang Ho, a world champion, is perhaps the strongest player of our time. Korean players are famous for their extreme calculation and accuracy.

Even though Go originated in China, the country gradually lost its position to Japan and Korea in recent centuries. Public interest in Go was revived in the 1980s during a series of dramatic arena matches between China and Japan. Now the country is catching up quickly, and already has seven world champions. China has a Go league tournament, just like a sport league tournament. This is indeed an interesting way to train players and inspire public enthusiasm at the same time. If history can predict, as the country gets richer and recruits more young players, we will see more talent and more exciting games. That would be good news to all Go fans.