So I wasn’t as impressed by Guolichen as my friends and colleagues at the Fengtai Softball Field, but I was quite impressed by the many uses and meanings of this bottled orange soda that extended beyond simply “a drink”. It helped me better understand the guanxi system (connections culture).

I drew this on the flight back from Illinois, and it came rather easily, because I’d drawn a proto version of this comic on a dining table paper back in October, 2008. You can see that it still has many similar elements:

The power band is in reference to the 5 Olympics-colored power bands that we had to wear on each wrist that were specific to Olympics volunteers. People soon started trading them for other items. This comic is, I think, the first with the Olympics. My 2008 volunteer experience was very educational for me, and so there may be a few more coming down the line.

You may have noticed that these last few comics have small narrative bits. I feel like I’ve gotten to a degree of comfort in portraying my China experiences that I can start doing that. I hope you don’t find it too disconcerting as I move away from “telling” and towards “showing”.

By the way, Minute Maid is 美汁源 in Chinese (“Beautiful Juice Source”). Here’s a picture of Guolichen:

Maybe people who have lived longer in China know whether my friend’s assertion is true. All I know was that she was very uncomfortable talking about this, and that the pad options in China are very advanced. To draw this comic, I actually had to look up the terms for pads and tampons online: “卫生巾” (“Hygiene towel”) vs “卫生棉” (“Hygiene cotton”). Go figure.

So I wrote this about a month ago, and had all but 1 row of panels finished, but then didn’t work on it for about a month, during which school ended and I went to Illinois for a summer institute.

This is one of those cases where there is some exaggeration — for one, I always sit shotgun when going somewhere in the family van. Also, my parents know of other types of non-Chinese food, such as KFC hotwings and Vietnamese spring rolls.

Finally, I actually had to do a little research for this one, since I’d never eaten at a Pizza Hut in China because it’s too pricey for me. But apparently it’s the go-to place for western food (including pasta and a one-stop salad bar) at western prices.

The result of only letting people go to the salad bar once:

I struggled the most with the middle panel with lots of relationships. I’m not sure if it’s clear, but those are in order from closest to farthest. What you see is a small sample of my various relations. I caught myself planning to draw the whole family tree, and stopped. I think what I have can be improved for clarity, but it serves for now. Jono says it’s time for me to break out of the 1-page limit. What do you think?

Notes on relationship titles:
- There are 8 different relationship titles for “first cousin”, and uncles/aunts-in-law also have separate relationship titles depending on who they’re married to.
- These also extend to job titles. For example, taxi-drivers, cooks, and various craftsmen are 师傅. I don’t remember the one for venders. There’s also a whole structure of 书记 and 局长 type government titles, but those are super-confusing to me.
- Last time I was in Beijing, I discovered that 老师 (teacher) was being used to address administrative staff on college campuses, and I was pretty miffed — it felt like the title of “teacher” was being cheapened.
- The generational respect is pretty strong. Even now, I feel uncomfortable addressing friends’ parents by first name, which makes me seem formal and aloof in America.
- Being able to claim a closer relationship is related to your “connections”. For example, being able to call the Deputy Director of something “Big bro” is indicative of a closer relationship, and hence, more mutual benefits because family are supposed to be there for each other. Even if it’s “family”.

I’ve since learned not to pack tank tops, regardless of how hot and muggy it is in Shanghai in the summer. The other incidents referenced in this comic: being told to bring formal wear “that you would wear to a formal dinner”. I went out a bought a proper dress and fancy sandals, only to go there and find out that we were supposed to wear “business” casual. There were looks of shock at my asking if we needed socks. Then I had to give a speech in my dress. We were a group of 20 Chinese-Americans and 20 Chinese, and it was quite striking that all of the American ladies wore formal dresses. The other incident was during the Beijing Olympics. Those were some of the other overseas Chinese girls and guys that I was hanging with. It’s kind of funny that a half-naked old guy can admonish you for wearing too little because you’re in flip-flops and a tank top.

To be fair, the socks thing made sense — Chinese streets are sort of grimy, with various air-conditioner drippings and other stuff, so you don’t want to expose your toes to that stuff.

My major challenge to fitting in with the Chinese youth fashion is that everyone is supposed to be tiny and skinny. This is why I end up wearing 40-year-old “mom” styles. That and I don’t like 15,000 sparkles and misspelled English words.

This one stewed in my head a long time, mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to present toilets in the right way.

In this comic you get to see: 4th grade me (I’m the one with the short hair in the elementary school bathroom), 10th grade me (with the ponytail in the Forbidden City bathroom), and the current me in the Beijing Sanlitou movie theater bathroom).

Just to clarify: in my experience, most city home bathrooms are “western style” (or perhaps truer to the mark, “Japanese style”), but people still prefer squatting in public bathrooms. There was once when I was in line at the public bathroom in Beijing’s Houhai area, and then I discovered that the “western” bathroom stall was empty — no one wanted to use it. So I was like, “score!”

What I am most happy about is the increasing prevalence of toilet paper in bathrooms.

Also: Instructions http://www.wikihow.com/Use-a-Squat-Toilet

This one is kind of meh, because the topic sort of meanders. I wanted to talk about how “fancy food” in China is really about “fancy decor/service”, and the food might not actually taste that much better. Especially when they bring on the “quality ingredients” like sea cucumber and shark fin and snake. But something must be said for the comfortable private rooms, the air conditioning, and the quality serving staff. Even though you can get something at about 1/10 of the price on the streets. These restaurants are everywhere, though — many floors, mostly all private rooms, wait staff with fancy custom-designed clothes, and pitchers of juice cost 40 rmb (in comparison, a meat bun on the street is 2rmb and a bowl of wontons in a small restaurant is 8rmb).

But in the making of this comic, I started thinking about *why* these fancy banquet restaurants exist, and I guess part of it is the fact that the bill is often footed by the company, but really, it’s about the desire to treat the guests to a good time. Whether you’re wooing them for business or sharing your new-found wealth or just thanking/celebrating with your family. Which made me think about the function of food, and how 请客 (“invite guests”) is Serious Business. Since I’m mostly back in China as a visitor, I get a lot of the quality hosting …

One of my favorite things about living in Shanghai — that I can go downstairs and there’s so much to do.  But also that there are all these secret worlds just through a doorway.

Example:
Residential Community: (note the plastic exercise equipment!)

Street: (note the rear of the residential buildings)

Some reasons:

- All my aging relatives are in China, so I just don’t know many old people in the US

- China has more people and a more public way of life, so I just see more on the streets of China

- I live in a part of the US with younger demographics

All of these are actual conversations I’ve had about race when talking with friends.