With mega-robot destruction sweeping the world cinemas and the countless critics tooting horns of lofty opinions, I'd like to share my take on the second-most prominent celebrity named Michael currently carpet-bombing the news.
In every sense of the word, Michael Bay is the People's Director. He knows what the average moviegoer wants (bouncing boobs, bombs, bright lights, fast cars, thundering soundtrack). My grandfather once referred to Bay and his posse as "a wrecking crew." That's what Michael Bay does- he wrecks things in ever-so-beautiful and poetic hues of glorious devastation, because this is what people generally want when they go to the movies. Movies are the world's waking dreams, and we want to watch on screen what we generally can't have in real life.
Now it's easy to just blow things up and have busty babes running around in slow motion, but I will contend that Michael Bay delivers such normally low-class entertainment elements with flair and bravado that no other Hollywood director can match. Bay's films are masterpieces of color and light. Many directors have their own particular tones and hues that they favor, and Bay opts to go with the disco club palette. If it's dark, it's really dark, but if it's light, it's really bright, but never glaring. Every camera angle is dramatic, every frame is excellently composed. I wouldn't call his action sequences gritty but they don't seem like watery CGI cotton candy either (see X-Men Origins: Wolverine). I guess the best word would be "visceral." It's as close to 3-D as you can get without being 3-D.
Of course it's well known that Bay favors effects over story and characterization, but most of the time (though not always), his story and characters are enjoyable, if implausible. Bay's dialogue is always peppered with up-to-date slang and contemporary humor (though the racist depiction of black people in Revenge of the Fallen's Twins was a bit heavy-handed). His films have an MTV hipness infused in them that irks critics but resonates with young people and with which I identify. But he never feels like he's reaching either. The jabs and jokes flow like wine but never feel like they're forcing the social relevance with pop-culture references, as many children's cartoons do.
Perhaps what I admire most about Bay's style is the tightness of his ship. Every detail is meticulous but never pretentious. The editing, the sound effects, the sets, everything is well-executed and solid without being overly flashy. Bay knows he's delivering a fluffy cream pie rather than a hearty meal, but damn if he doesn't make that cream pie as beautiful and sugary as possible. He makes the best-tasting cinematic junk food out there and if I'm not mistaken, he's the most profitable director active today in proportion to the number of movies that he's made.
Michael Bay is McDonald's. I've been going to McDonald's since I was a wee tot, and while I only go every so often, when I do, it's a treat, and I enjoy a cheeseburger now just as much as I did when I was five years old. The critics can say what they want, but when you have a winning recipe, it doesn't matter whether it's healthy or not.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Save a Balloon, Pop a Collar
A terrifying trend has swept through China’s youth. It began several years ago but it is now gaining popularity with frightening speed:
Please, please China, cool it with the collar-popping. It wasn’t cool in the West, and it’s not cool here. I know you’re trying to look like all those superstars and make the girls’ eyes sparkle, but trust me, the girls don’t dig it. The tool-ishness of China’s male youth is reaching epidemic proportions, and the hordes of flash-in-the-pan pop-and-locking pre-pubescent Usher-wannabe divas prancing around on TV every night are the problem. So I beg you, China, please, save the children. Poppeth not thine collar, for a douchebag it thou dost make.
Please refer to this informative excerpt from Urban Dictionary:
Popped Collar:
The style a Douche wears his collar, nonetheless it is a douche who may be attracted to other men and most certainly has a small penis.
Ex.:
Guy 1: That kid is wearing a polo with a popped collar.
Guy 2: DOUCHE!
Please, please China, cool it with the collar-popping. It wasn’t cool in the West, and it’s not cool here. I know you’re trying to look like all those superstars and make the girls’ eyes sparkle, but trust me, the girls don’t dig it. The tool-ishness of China’s male youth is reaching epidemic proportions, and the hordes of flash-in-the-pan pop-and-locking pre-pubescent Usher-wannabe divas prancing around on TV every night are the problem. So I beg you, China, please, save the children. Poppeth not thine collar, for a douchebag it thou dost make.
Please refer to this informative excerpt from Urban Dictionary:
Popped Collar:
The style a Douche wears his collar, nonetheless it is a douche who may be attracted to other men and most certainly has a small penis.
Ex.:
Guy 1: That kid is wearing a polo with a popped collar.
Guy 2: DOUCHE!
Monday, June 8, 2009
China Tattoo Advice Part 1: All About the Ink
In the four years that I’ve been in China, I’ve spent more than 80 hours under the tattoo needle. I’ve been inked by more than a dozen artists in 10 tattoo shops in three different cities and spent about 10000 RMB. And this isn’t counting my earlier tattoo experiences back in the US. So with all this time and money and pain spent on skin decorations, one would expect my epidermis to be a veritable gallery of intricate masterworks.
Hardly the case.
My ink designs are already simple by choice, but my skin is a testament to the varying levels of quality and skill among tattoo artists, their techniques, and the ink that they use. None of my tattoos look terrible but some look great while others definitely need some retouching and even repairs. Even a simple tattoo can turn out crappy because of poor placement, low-grade ink, slight trembles in the artist’s hands, etc. Now I’ve always wanted my own personal ink array to lean more towards the prison yard aesthetic school (i.e., a lot of relatively simple and uncolored tattoos) rather than sport a few pristine masterpieces. I dunno, I just like the gritty, slap-dash, sailor-esque tattoos that display competence and skill but looked like they were actually gauged into the skin with a needle rather than painted on with delicate brushes. And since I sought out this tattoo style, I figured it wouldn’t make too much of a difference if I chose a less pricey (hence less skilled) tattoo artist.
Well, yes and no.
Besides one red drop of blood, all of my tattoos are black ink, and sometimes within a few months, several tattoos of mine have faded in certain areas, creating an uneven palette of light and dark patches on the same tattoo. I am very meticulous about tattoo aftercare so the primary blame rests with the ink used. Simple fact is that better ink costs more. If you pay a cheap price for a tattoo, you’ll get cheap ink. The good news is that retouching the tattoo isn’t too time-consuming since most of the color is already applied- the artists just needs to go over your skin once more and it will probably stay sufficiently dark, even if the cheap ink is used a second time.
Of course it’s always best to do things right the first time, so ask your tattoo artist if he has different grades of ink and use the higher grade, especially if your tattoo is composed of a lot of dark colors. Splotchiness on solid masses of color just doesn’t look good. And if you find that your tattoo retains its color long after it’s healed, give your repeat business to that artist, unless his technique sucks of course. The truth is that all tattoos fade eventually and usually have to get retouched at some point, but it’s nice having a tattoo that will hold together for years instead of months before the obligatory tune-up.
Hardly the case.
My ink designs are already simple by choice, but my skin is a testament to the varying levels of quality and skill among tattoo artists, their techniques, and the ink that they use. None of my tattoos look terrible but some look great while others definitely need some retouching and even repairs. Even a simple tattoo can turn out crappy because of poor placement, low-grade ink, slight trembles in the artist’s hands, etc. Now I’ve always wanted my own personal ink array to lean more towards the prison yard aesthetic school (i.e., a lot of relatively simple and uncolored tattoos) rather than sport a few pristine masterpieces. I dunno, I just like the gritty, slap-dash, sailor-esque tattoos that display competence and skill but looked like they were actually gauged into the skin with a needle rather than painted on with delicate brushes. And since I sought out this tattoo style, I figured it wouldn’t make too much of a difference if I chose a less pricey (hence less skilled) tattoo artist.
Well, yes and no.
Besides one red drop of blood, all of my tattoos are black ink, and sometimes within a few months, several tattoos of mine have faded in certain areas, creating an uneven palette of light and dark patches on the same tattoo. I am very meticulous about tattoo aftercare so the primary blame rests with the ink used. Simple fact is that better ink costs more. If you pay a cheap price for a tattoo, you’ll get cheap ink. The good news is that retouching the tattoo isn’t too time-consuming since most of the color is already applied- the artists just needs to go over your skin once more and it will probably stay sufficiently dark, even if the cheap ink is used a second time.
Of course it’s always best to do things right the first time, so ask your tattoo artist if he has different grades of ink and use the higher grade, especially if your tattoo is composed of a lot of dark colors. Splotchiness on solid masses of color just doesn’t look good. And if you find that your tattoo retains its color long after it’s healed, give your repeat business to that artist, unless his technique sucks of course. The truth is that all tattoos fade eventually and usually have to get retouched at some point, but it’s nice having a tattoo that will hold together for years instead of months before the obligatory tune-up.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Yao Ming Gets Ozzy Tattoo
It started with Dennis Rodman.
It gained popularity with Allen Iverson.
Now it seems that tattoos in the NBA have become the standard rather than the exception. Some teams, such as Cleveland Cavaliers or Denver Nuggets, are so heavily inked that sometimes the games can look more like pick-up skirmishes in the prison yard rather than megastars dueling it out on primetime TV. I’m all for public exposure and acceptance of tattoos, but the gangsta-inclined tattoo trend in the NBA has reached almost ludicrous proportions. It seems that the only demographic maintaining virgin skin are foreign-born ballers, most of whom are from Eastern European countries, as well as a few highly visible Chinese athletes. Well, the needle-thin curtain has come down.
Yao Ming has gotten a tattoo.
He addressed the topic of his indelible artwork the other night on ESPN: “I know that tattoos have long been a controversial subject in most of the world and especially in my native China, but my decision to receive a tattoo was purely a personal one and not as a result of the desire to rebel against my culture.”
Perhaps even more surprising than Yao’s decision to get inked is his choice of subject matter: a scowling portrait of Ozzy Osbourne. Yao confessed to being a long-time Black Sabbath fan and admitted that the famed Sabbath doom-and-gloom rocker “Iron Man” gets him “pumped up in the locker room before each game.” Ozzy was the “natural choice” since he has “inspired [Yao] to be the best I can be ever since I got my first [Sabbath] CD from a small CD shop in Shanghai fifteen years ago.”
Yao’s tattoo was inscribed during the last week of the NBA regular season during a foray down Sunset Strip during an off-day before meeting the Lakers the following evening. He confessed his decision to get that tattoo was “maybe a little” inspired by a dare from fellow teammate Tracy McGrady, who reportedly called Yao a “chicken” for having no tattoos, presumably an assumption about Yao’s tolerance for pain. To silence McGrady’s jests, Yao marched into the Pirate Whore Tattoo Parlor and was promptly inked with the dove-decapitating frontman’s likeness.
Asked for comment, Milwaukee Bucks forward and fellow Chinese compatriot Yi Jian Lian offered Yao his “congratulations on providing yet another example of China conforming to Western aesthetic standards.”
-The Associated Prezz
It gained popularity with Allen Iverson.
Now it seems that tattoos in the NBA have become the standard rather than the exception. Some teams, such as Cleveland Cavaliers or Denver Nuggets, are so heavily inked that sometimes the games can look more like pick-up skirmishes in the prison yard rather than megastars dueling it out on primetime TV. I’m all for public exposure and acceptance of tattoos, but the gangsta-inclined tattoo trend in the NBA has reached almost ludicrous proportions. It seems that the only demographic maintaining virgin skin are foreign-born ballers, most of whom are from Eastern European countries, as well as a few highly visible Chinese athletes. Well, the needle-thin curtain has come down.
Yao Ming has gotten a tattoo.
He addressed the topic of his indelible artwork the other night on ESPN: “I know that tattoos have long been a controversial subject in most of the world and especially in my native China, but my decision to receive a tattoo was purely a personal one and not as a result of the desire to rebel against my culture.”
Perhaps even more surprising than Yao’s decision to get inked is his choice of subject matter: a scowling portrait of Ozzy Osbourne. Yao confessed to being a long-time Black Sabbath fan and admitted that the famed Sabbath doom-and-gloom rocker “Iron Man” gets him “pumped up in the locker room before each game.” Ozzy was the “natural choice” since he has “inspired [Yao] to be the best I can be ever since I got my first [Sabbath] CD from a small CD shop in Shanghai fifteen years ago.”
Yao’s tattoo was inscribed during the last week of the NBA regular season during a foray down Sunset Strip during an off-day before meeting the Lakers the following evening. He confessed his decision to get that tattoo was “maybe a little” inspired by a dare from fellow teammate Tracy McGrady, who reportedly called Yao a “chicken” for having no tattoos, presumably an assumption about Yao’s tolerance for pain. To silence McGrady’s jests, Yao marched into the Pirate Whore Tattoo Parlor and was promptly inked with the dove-decapitating frontman’s likeness.
Asked for comment, Milwaukee Bucks forward and fellow Chinese compatriot Yi Jian Lian offered Yao his “congratulations on providing yet another example of China conforming to Western aesthetic standards.”
-The Associated Prezz
Monday, May 11, 2009
Where are China's Criminal Gangs?
One of my hobbies is researching gangs, usually prison and street gangs. I don't know, maybe it's because of our mutual love of tattoos :-P. But gangs really are a fascinating and horrifying subject, one that is increasing in visibility and veracity every day. Numerous Western documentaries illuminate the international gang culture (Ross Kemp on Gangs, History Channel's Gangland, etc.) but I am always struck by the conspicuous absence of Chinese criminal gangs. And the reason is that China's mainland has a relatively low gang problem and what gangs that do exist hardly make for riveting television.
In theory, China should be swarming with organized and unorganized crime. There is a massive population of young and middle-aged men with little or no education and skills with little prospects for marriage and a prosperous future. Every Western country with similar social demographics has a huge gang problem, and modernized countries like Japan and regions such as Hong Kong have a long embedded history of gang traditions.
But mainland China does not. Of course, there are hordes of surly-faced youth prowling the streets looking for trouble, but this hardly qualifies as a "gang" threat and is usually just a collection of rebellious punks with nothing to do. You don't have cliques lethally guarding their territory, tagging empty walls with gang signs, tattooing themselves with their local area codes, and slinging rock on the street corners. In China, most gangs are underground and rarely visible, and are usually involved such un-glamorous black market affairs such as smuggling, kidnapping, and extortion. No drive-bys, no shootouts with the cops, no prison feuds and other such activities usually associated with gang life.
Of course, most people's perceptions of gang culture have been magnified and glorified by music and the media. Although I spent my childhood in inner city New York, it was a far cry from Compton or El Salvador. And that's not to say that there aren't Chinese gangs outside of China. Every major American city has well-established and vicious Chinese street gangs. They simply lack a significant counterpart in their home country.
Why? There are numerous reasons, and I can only speculate, but I believe there are two substantial factors keeping gang culture from thriving in China. The first is a hesitancy to embrace the life of an outcast, which is what being a gangster means. You're accepted into the brotherhood of your gang but you are scorned by the rest of society, and for a Chinese person, this is a paralyzing thought, even when promised safety and security by a gang. The second factor is the lack of disenfranchised men in urban areas. Sure, there are millions of migrant workers, but they don't stay in the city and roam the streets at night. They do the work, then they go back to their homes in the countryside. It is usually the girls who permanently leave the countryside and relocate to the cities but for the men, it's much harder to survive in the city without an education or specialized skills. And because China is such a large country with massive rural areas, it is hard to centralize enough of such men to create the friction and frustration that spawns gang cultures. And then there's the Chinese mindset of communal property. In the West, we are very keen on personal ownership of territory, even if its just our block. But in China, people don't have this same sense of ownership of a place where they have invested their lives. They have their homes, but it's not their "territory." Most Chinese just want to live in peace, and they do. The territorial Western mentality is just fuel for the gang fire waiting to ignite.
So that's my analysis. I could be totally wrong but I think that China won't have a serious gang problem for a long time, if ever. And this is one reason why I say that China is one of the safest countries on earth.
In theory, China should be swarming with organized and unorganized crime. There is a massive population of young and middle-aged men with little or no education and skills with little prospects for marriage and a prosperous future. Every Western country with similar social demographics has a huge gang problem, and modernized countries like Japan and regions such as Hong Kong have a long embedded history of gang traditions.
But mainland China does not. Of course, there are hordes of surly-faced youth prowling the streets looking for trouble, but this hardly qualifies as a "gang" threat and is usually just a collection of rebellious punks with nothing to do. You don't have cliques lethally guarding their territory, tagging empty walls with gang signs, tattooing themselves with their local area codes, and slinging rock on the street corners. In China, most gangs are underground and rarely visible, and are usually involved such un-glamorous black market affairs such as smuggling, kidnapping, and extortion. No drive-bys, no shootouts with the cops, no prison feuds and other such activities usually associated with gang life.
Of course, most people's perceptions of gang culture have been magnified and glorified by music and the media. Although I spent my childhood in inner city New York, it was a far cry from Compton or El Salvador. And that's not to say that there aren't Chinese gangs outside of China. Every major American city has well-established and vicious Chinese street gangs. They simply lack a significant counterpart in their home country.
Why? There are numerous reasons, and I can only speculate, but I believe there are two substantial factors keeping gang culture from thriving in China. The first is a hesitancy to embrace the life of an outcast, which is what being a gangster means. You're accepted into the brotherhood of your gang but you are scorned by the rest of society, and for a Chinese person, this is a paralyzing thought, even when promised safety and security by a gang. The second factor is the lack of disenfranchised men in urban areas. Sure, there are millions of migrant workers, but they don't stay in the city and roam the streets at night. They do the work, then they go back to their homes in the countryside. It is usually the girls who permanently leave the countryside and relocate to the cities but for the men, it's much harder to survive in the city without an education or specialized skills. And because China is such a large country with massive rural areas, it is hard to centralize enough of such men to create the friction and frustration that spawns gang cultures. And then there's the Chinese mindset of communal property. In the West, we are very keen on personal ownership of territory, even if its just our block. But in China, people don't have this same sense of ownership of a place where they have invested their lives. They have their homes, but it's not their "territory." Most Chinese just want to live in peace, and they do. The territorial Western mentality is just fuel for the gang fire waiting to ignite.
So that's my analysis. I could be totally wrong but I think that China won't have a serious gang problem for a long time, if ever. And this is one reason why I say that China is one of the safest countries on earth.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
A Most Excellent Philippines Honeymoon Adventure
My university is a private university and so they don't always follow the same rules as the public system. One instance of this is a full-week May holiday instead of skimpy three-day weekends spread out over the spring (jealous much?). So what is a sun-loving laowai to do besides whisk his beaming new bride to a land of volcanoes, beaches, and traffic?
My aunt and uncle live in the Philippines, as do some of my parents' close friends, so we got the mad hook-up (places to crash, glorious food, private drivers). We were there for a total of six days, and it was jam packed. We took a carriage ride around Manila's old Spanish quarter, rode horses up an active volcano, slept in a cozy cottage overlooking the sea, and went scuba diving. The diving was righteous and I think I've got the fever.
The only bummer was the lack of sunshine. It was unusually overcast almost the entire week and rained often. But this wasn't too bad because it kept the bugs and the crowds away, and was actually very refreshing. But we had no major glitches, didn't get ripped-off or robbed or lost, and only had slight allergies when we first arrived. It was Tina's first trip out of China and I'm glad she had such a blast. And it was uber-cheap to fly and shop there, even by Chinese standards. Tina had quite the blowout at SM Mall, the capitalistic Parthenon of the Philippines.
A few observations about the Philippines: it was very different from what I was expecting. I've been to China's Hainan island and I guess I was expecting something similar, but the Philippines was far more Western than I imagined. In fact, it was too Western. I grew up in what most would call the ghetto in New York City and parts of Manila felt just like the delapidated parts of Queens. The graffiti, blaring party music, and gangster-clad youngsters running around made me wonder if I was even in Asia. It looked, sounded, and smelled like the Latino quarter of any major American city. I love Latin culture though and I enjoyed the ostentacious colors and decorations and the laid-back party vibe of the whole country.
The people looked very Hispanic as well, especially the women. I've known many Filipinas and having heard the legends, I was expecting to be surrounded by throngs of gorgeous senoritas but honestly, I was unimpressed. Having been in China for four years (and married to a lovely example :-), my standards for beauty have been raised quite high and I saw only a handful of Filipinas that I would consider beautiful, and if they were on the streets here in China, they would barely get a passing glance. I can't speak to their characters or personalities, but as far as appearance goes, Chinese girls outdo them in figure, poise, grace, make-up, and fashion no question. I was quite proud of all the envious stares directed my way as we made our way through the shops and beaches :-).
Compared to the Philippines, China is cleaner, more organized, and a bit bland, but I find it more fascinating and exotic because of its cultural distance from the West. The Philippines felt too familiar and this diminished its enchantment, but not its fun factor. I'd go back in a heartbeat.
My aunt and uncle live in the Philippines, as do some of my parents' close friends, so we got the mad hook-up (places to crash, glorious food, private drivers). We were there for a total of six days, and it was jam packed. We took a carriage ride around Manila's old Spanish quarter, rode horses up an active volcano, slept in a cozy cottage overlooking the sea, and went scuba diving. The diving was righteous and I think I've got the fever.
The only bummer was the lack of sunshine. It was unusually overcast almost the entire week and rained often. But this wasn't too bad because it kept the bugs and the crowds away, and was actually very refreshing. But we had no major glitches, didn't get ripped-off or robbed or lost, and only had slight allergies when we first arrived. It was Tina's first trip out of China and I'm glad she had such a blast. And it was uber-cheap to fly and shop there, even by Chinese standards. Tina had quite the blowout at SM Mall, the capitalistic Parthenon of the Philippines.
A few observations about the Philippines: it was very different from what I was expecting. I've been to China's Hainan island and I guess I was expecting something similar, but the Philippines was far more Western than I imagined. In fact, it was too Western. I grew up in what most would call the ghetto in New York City and parts of Manila felt just like the delapidated parts of Queens. The graffiti, blaring party music, and gangster-clad youngsters running around made me wonder if I was even in Asia. It looked, sounded, and smelled like the Latino quarter of any major American city. I love Latin culture though and I enjoyed the ostentacious colors and decorations and the laid-back party vibe of the whole country.
The people looked very Hispanic as well, especially the women. I've known many Filipinas and having heard the legends, I was expecting to be surrounded by throngs of gorgeous senoritas but honestly, I was unimpressed. Having been in China for four years (and married to a lovely example :-), my standards for beauty have been raised quite high and I saw only a handful of Filipinas that I would consider beautiful, and if they were on the streets here in China, they would barely get a passing glance. I can't speak to their characters or personalities, but as far as appearance goes, Chinese girls outdo them in figure, poise, grace, make-up, and fashion no question. I was quite proud of all the envious stares directed my way as we made our way through the shops and beaches :-).
Compared to the Philippines, China is cleaner, more organized, and a bit bland, but I find it more fascinating and exotic because of its cultural distance from the West. The Philippines felt too familiar and this diminished its enchantment, but not its fun factor. I'd go back in a heartbeat.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Putting Down Roots
Tina and I bought a home last week. It's actually a half-finished concrete shell in a half-finished high-rise, but it's got a view of the sea, it's a little bit outside of Xiamen proper so the air is cleaner, and best of all, it was less than half of the price for homes inside Xiamen island. We've put down our 20% down payment and we're going to be on a 10 year mortgage plan, and with my new resolution to start paying off my student loan debt, this means that I'll have to cool it on the tattoos for awhile :-).
Tina was relieved and excited that we actually purchased a home, although it will probably be another year before we can move into it. Her family was pleased too, because it is a demonstration of my commitment to her and our marriage (I guess a diamond ring isn't enough for some folks :-P). Most of the down payment money was hers though, so my display of commitment wasn't so much a monetary gesture as it was a symbolic contract to make a home and build a life with their daughter. And since I'm the breadwinner of the family, my monetary gesture of commitment will be to feed the forthcoming mortgage monster :-). And honestly, I'm pumped. I've always had an enthusiasm for interior design (go ahead, laugh sucka) and having a place that we can shape together however we want is exciting.
But of course the biggest consequence of this purchase is a decision to put my roots down in China. Most people assume that a foreigner doing his thing in China will eventually go back to his hometown, and if he happens to get married in China, he will inevitably whisk his beaming bride to the Land of Opportunity. This was never my intention, and I'm glad that I have an anchor here (besides Tina). Of course, making a home in China can have its challenges. For example, the banks were hesitant to give Tina and I a loan because she's married to a foreigner, and the banks assume (with some justification) that Chinese people who marry foreigners are likely to leave China for their spouse's country and leave the bank holding the bag on the loan. And there is also distance from one's family. My father has been battling terminal cancer for the last 5 years, and although his spirits are high and his faith keeps him strong, I still feel bad being on the other side of the world while he and my family struggle. But they are supportive of me and my life here in China, and my folks are a little bit Sino-philic (my dad even speaks a bit of Mandarin), and they're ecstatic to have a Chinese daughter-in-law, so it makes the distance easier to digest.
So the verdict is that China is going to have to deal with this skinny tattooed laowai for a long time to come, but we're friends so it's cool. One great thing about our new home's suburban location is the lack of foreigners. I think I could really monopolize the market on English and Tina would like to establish some sort of Latin dance studio. Oh the possibilities....
Tina was relieved and excited that we actually purchased a home, although it will probably be another year before we can move into it. Her family was pleased too, because it is a demonstration of my commitment to her and our marriage (I guess a diamond ring isn't enough for some folks :-P). Most of the down payment money was hers though, so my display of commitment wasn't so much a monetary gesture as it was a symbolic contract to make a home and build a life with their daughter. And since I'm the breadwinner of the family, my monetary gesture of commitment will be to feed the forthcoming mortgage monster :-). And honestly, I'm pumped. I've always had an enthusiasm for interior design (go ahead, laugh sucka) and having a place that we can shape together however we want is exciting.
But of course the biggest consequence of this purchase is a decision to put my roots down in China. Most people assume that a foreigner doing his thing in China will eventually go back to his hometown, and if he happens to get married in China, he will inevitably whisk his beaming bride to the Land of Opportunity. This was never my intention, and I'm glad that I have an anchor here (besides Tina). Of course, making a home in China can have its challenges. For example, the banks were hesitant to give Tina and I a loan because she's married to a foreigner, and the banks assume (with some justification) that Chinese people who marry foreigners are likely to leave China for their spouse's country and leave the bank holding the bag on the loan. And there is also distance from one's family. My father has been battling terminal cancer for the last 5 years, and although his spirits are high and his faith keeps him strong, I still feel bad being on the other side of the world while he and my family struggle. But they are supportive of me and my life here in China, and my folks are a little bit Sino-philic (my dad even speaks a bit of Mandarin), and they're ecstatic to have a Chinese daughter-in-law, so it makes the distance easier to digest.
So the verdict is that China is going to have to deal with this skinny tattooed laowai for a long time to come, but we're friends so it's cool. One great thing about our new home's suburban location is the lack of foreigners. I think I could really monopolize the market on English and Tina would like to establish some sort of Latin dance studio. Oh the possibilities....
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