Monthly Archives: February 2020

Culture Shock, Society & Culture

The Whiny Women of Taiwan

When I first moved to Taiwan I was 29 years old. After taking care of the basics, food, job, housing, I was ready to date. I immediately ran into a problem. All the women I met considered men 9 to 20 years their senior to be appropriate dating age. (It’s an entire nation of women with daddy issues). That meant the women interested in dating me were 20 years old, and acted like a 12 year old back home. Admittedly, they were very cute, but…

The problem I had was not physical, most were beautiful, nor was it personality, many being genuinely wonderful—it was all the 撒嬌ing. Google Translate tells me 撒嬌 (sājiāo) means coquettish—I just checked—but for my whole life in Taiwan I’ve thought of it as meaning whining. My definition of 撒嬌 is childishly and annoyingly complaining, or being in a pet, in an obvious attempt to manipulate others [men]. That’s what it looks and sounds like. Nothing sets my teeth on edge quite like it.

I suppose my reaction is natural, as a child, whining was one of the personality flaws parents tried to beat out of little girls. [Simpler times]. It’s natural I would carry some residual dislike. Not so in Taiwan, I’ve seen parents and particularly grandparents actively teaching sniveling, literally holding back candy until a little girl starts whingeing, upon which she receives the reward. They find it charming female behavior.

The 撒嬌 is a cruel mistress. It only works for the pretty or cute. I’ve watched cute young girls use their wiles to get what they want, while their less cute friends, pull a moue as best they can, but get substantially poorer results. Even though I prefer this outcome, and think it is better for the girls, it’s hard not to pity the ugly little sprogs.

What may be considered cute in a child [it isn’t] is sexually manipulative in a 20-something, and with each subsequent decade becomes more grotesque. But, pretty young women, enjoy a brief period when they can get whatever they want by simply pouting. Of course the older you get the less it works. However, for as long as you remain cute or beautiful, you can still pull out a 撒嬌 now and then, and be rewarded by getting your way. Though their beauty may have waned, the amount a middle-aged woman whines is a pretty good indicator of their youthful looks. Lots of petulance? She was a cute young thing. If they manage to remain beautiful into middle-age, then the whingeing continues unabated.

It still shocks me when I see highly successful professional career women trying to manipulate staff, clients, or bosses, with pursed lips and a plaintive tone. It makes you just want to smack them upside the head. I’m not alone in this. The behavior seems to bother many Western women even more than me. I once found myself in front of a class full of young women who demanded I explain why their female teacher was so upset with them for whining to get their way. I explain to them that women have worked hard to improve their place in society. That they fought to prove themselves the equal of men in business. That it’s been an arduous battle that isn’t finished. I then suggested that seeing a bunch of educated women mewling around like babies undercuts feminism. [I know you think I’m not the one to have delivered a message on feminism, but I am a feminist with impeccable credentials. I’ve been a lifetime committed member of the Free the Nipple movement, up on the barricades, fighting the good fight, since before it was a movement, and will continue until the day I die—and possibly for a few days after. I’m not sure how the afterlife works]. Anyway, the students couldn’t have disagreed more. They were shocked anyone would find something so cute and manifestly feminine insulting to womanhood. They were right. The 撒嬌 is a pure expression of the female in Taiwan. I have occasionally witnessed boys trying to do it. It doesn’t work. Their question was: why should women give up any weapon they have in the battle of the sexes if it gets them what they want? They were clear about what they were doing, and mercenary in intent. *Shrug* Sometimes we try, but fail to teach.

The difference in cultural attitudes surrounding 撒嬌ing was my first deeper culture shock. The first time I met a difference more profound than the traveler’s basics: Why is everyone shouting? Do you really eat that? Or, the ever popular, how does this toilet work? I’m a fan of Taiwanese women in many ways, but in this way, not so much. It’s just a game; a manipulation. But, I find it deeply annoying.

Culture Shock, Humor

Inappropriate Touching and Being Other

Being other in Asia has led to some bizarre experiences as the locals, unfettered by Western norms for dealing with minorities, have felt free to let their freak-flag fly. I’m just going to recount a few of my odder moments in Asia. If you want more on the social underpinnings of this behavior read  Anti-Foreigner Bigotry. These stories are just for shit and giggles.

I’m blonde, and hirsute compared to Asians, so it is common for strangers to play with my hair. Either they’ll ask first or just surreptitiously start touching my hair. Stroking the hair on my arms and legs seems to be practically irresistible for some young women. It’s fun. However, if you’re not expecting it, the light caressing of your leg can feel disconcertingly like a cockroach—one of those big flying motherfuckers—has just landed on your thigh and is threatening to crawl up your shorts. A suave James Bond type would have  witty patter ready and be off to the races. My normal reaction has been to clench my butt cheeks so hard I shoot out of my chair, windmilling backwards through the air trying to get away from the offending coleoptera. Smooth. [I remained unmarried until forty].

In social settings, such as a club or bar, it’s pretty flirty. From my side, inviting some pretty young thing to stroke my leg hair was a surprisingly effective icebreaker. I know, sounds creepy, right? I don’t recall anyone ever saying no, and it has led to many pleasurable flirtations. Sometimes the desire to play with my hair is more clinical. I’ve had platonic female friends—who’ve been hurtfully contemptuous of the idea of dating—ask to touch my hair, and proceed to engage in what can only be described as light petting. Just as I’d begin thinking I’d misread the signals, and maybe her animus was really coquetry, the fondling would stop and the conversation would continue down the road of mundanity, leaving me going, well, okay, thanks for the boner, I guess. These episodes can spring from genuine platonic desire to learn about another race’s physical features.

The groping expression of racial curiosity from cute Asian females, though slightly racist, has its charms. The whole inappropriate touching thing can have a darker side, moments that make you go, “Huh! I really am an alien.”

During my time in Korea, quite long ago, I was at a bath house, sweating out my hangover. One of the best things about living in Korea was the bath houses. You could go to one usually for around $1 US. You got access to a sauna, steam bath, large jacuzzi, warm tub, cold tub and a lounge, for as many hours as desired. Usually the set up was luxurious, and most Koreans partook of the bath house at least weekly.

Once at my local bath house, while enjoying a steam, a middle aged Korean man sat right beside me. I felt it was slightly odd, male public nudity and close proximity don’t generally mix. You don’t want to risk inadvertently grazing each other, or catching a glimpse of ball sack and needing months of painful psychoanalysis.  Still, having the guy perch down beside me wasn’t so socially awkward as to cause flight. Instead I ignored him. That went fine right up until he—totally uninvited—started stroking my chest hair and giving me a thumbs up, while telling me in stilted English that the mass of hair on my chest was great. Inappropriate, Dude. Inappropriate.

Would you call this sexual harassment? A bit of indecorous female touching is good clean fun, but when guys do it,…ugh. It helps me appreciate the #MeToo movement.

Off-Topic, Society & Culture

The Wuhan Epidemic and the Mandate of Heaven

I’m going a bit off-topic to talk about China, but I’m currently on extended vacation due to the coronavirus out of Wuhan, so in some ways it feels on-topic. I won’t talk about why these viruses so frequently develop in China, but rather why they have a tendency to spiral out of control.

Emperors have ruled China since the murky depths of prehistory. Each dynasty derived its legitimacy—the right to rule—from the Mandate of Heaven. Essentially each dynasty’s rulers have served at the pleasure of heaven. Part of their role was to intercede with the gods to ensure good crops and protect against natural calamities. When a dynasty collapses it is marked by a great tragedy, usually a natural disaster—the signal for political change. This is why when a natural disaster strikes Taiwan, the Chinese leadership usually offers snippy comments on Taiwanese politics. They’re assholes—sure. But, they’re assholes with a political philosophy.

The Mandate of Heaven is an anachronism; but, in many ways so is the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). The CCP doesn’t have a very clear mandate to rule. Nobody voted for them. The Party is atheistic, so presumably they weren’t chosen by the gods, and do not serve heaven. Why are they there?

I often see Western media talk about the CCP deriving its legitimacy from its ability to ensure continued prosperity. That’s true, but it misses the broader point. In a real sense, the CCP is just the latest dynasty to rule China. The majority of China is still undereducated and segregated from the world. The old ways hold sway, whether in technology, agriculture, medicine, or politics. CCP rule operates under the Mandate of Heaven, whether they like it or not.

If a cataclysm and chaos mark the end of a reign, then the opposite—periods of calm—must show heaven’s continued support. Prosperity and a relative lack of natural catastrophes are indicators the CCP continues to hold the Mandate of Heaven. The natural result—and visible sign—of such silky smooth trouble-free rule is social order and harmony. That’s one reason maintaining social order is the most important feature of Chinese governance.

In addition, the Chinese government has  a top-down centralized structure. A characteristic of such organizational structures is officials don’t want to risk their boss’s ire by kicking bad news up the chain. That’s just the way it is. (Soviet Russia was the same, watch Chernobyl).

When something happens that threatens social order, the instinct is to sweep it under the rug. Outbreak? What Outbreak? During SARS, the last epidemic that started in China, doctors were told by top provincial authorities not to educate the public about the virus. Hospitals just sent patients home for bed rest. Most knew nothing about Western medicine, ignored the advice, and simply continued daily life, infecting others. The current 2019-nCoV outbreak in Wuhan has followed a similar trajectory. Wuhan authorities initially tried to keep a lid on information regarding the epidemic. They literally preferred to let people die than acknowledge the true situation.

So vital is preserving a sense of social order and harmony, combined with the strong desire not to be the bearer of bad news, that during Spring Festival celebrations, Wuhan party officials did nothing to mitigate the worst effects of the public revelry.  A particularly egregious example was authorities, knowing about the epidemic, allowed state television to promote a municipal banquet—in the infected zone—where a hundred thousand guests ate together, dipping their chopsticks into the communal food, Chinese style. Also, at the beginning of the holiday hundreds of thousands were allowed to board trains and planes to infect other passengers, and then to spread the virus throughout China, and to a lesser degree the world. It wasn’t until the virus went international, and Wuhan authorities could no longer turn a blind eye, that measures to control the spread of the virus began to be taken.

When I was a child, a family friend, who was an epidemiologist, [drunkenly] contented that the thing that would eventually take out humanity was a virus—and that it would come from China.  Thus far I’ve seen nothing that contradicts his prediction.