New-fangled feminism.

Above is an article published last spring on the Economist blog. It delves into the modern state of women in China, from calls for girls to wear more “modest dress” in public to avoid harassment to the dilemma of surface-level equality with women comprising 46% of a workforce still largely influenced by patriarchal management.

The Chinese generation growing up around the time of our baby-boomers faced a slightly different society than exists for women in China today. No small number of families required their daughters to give most if not all of their salary to the family, which could then be passed on to the sons of the family as needed. Indeed, having a son was considered to be good fortune to the extent that he was better able to provide for his parents and need not worry about things like marrying into a wealthier family. Thus, throughout Chinese history, giving birth to a son secured a woman more respect and support from her husband’s family. Announce that you are having a daughter, however, and you may as well announce the beginning of your doom.

Now, it may be surprising to hear that Mao Zedong, the infamous man who the West holds responsible for initiating mass starvation during the Cultural Revolution, was somewhat of a feminist. Mao once said that women “hold up half the sky”. During the May Fourth Movement, which refers to a social, political, and cultural movement that began on May 4th, 1919 when 5,000 students from Beijing University took to the streets to protest the Chinese government’s weak response to the Versailles Treaty, Mao joined the body of youth advocating modernization and an end to ”Confucianism”— the philosophy that had governed Chinese society for thousands of years (and still underlies Chinese mentality today). Throughout the May Fourth Movement and New Culture Movement, the call for gender equality was consistently at play. Along with modern ideas of “freedom in marriage and love”, the notion that women deserved new clout in Chinese society and in the family was discussed in dozens of articles and journals, the most famous being the New Youth journal. Mao Zedong himself wrote a number of essays promoting the rights of women in his youth. Strongly opposed to Confucianism, a philosophy whose teachings were often compatible with a bourgeois and elitist society, Mao joined the New Culture Movement before going on to establish the Communist Party, where he succeeded as an extremely gifted and intelligent orator.

Many scholars write that Chinese experienced a period of quasi gender equality throughout the 1950s and 1960s under the rule of Mao Zedong. The poster above, however, which depicts China’s support for North Vietnam during the war with the United States, proves that the status of women at that time was perhaps not without its limitations. Female “red guards” were undoubtedly given important roles during Mao’s era, cutting their hair short and dressing more or less the same as men, but some argue that they were still being forced to adapt to a “superior image”— i.e., the male. Take a look at the poster above, for example. Replace the woman’s hair with a hat and roughen up her facial features and she is essentially a man. Sexual relationships were highly discouraged among red guards during the Cultural Revolution— romantic love was seen as infringing on one’s love for the country. Women were thus essentially de-sexualized and then embraced as “equals”. The debate about whether this period in Chinese history represents true progress for women is still active among academics today.

At the same time Mao’s country was desexualizing women, Mao had a number of intimate relationships with highly influential, intelligent women throughout his life. He is known for being a romantic, writing poetry to brilliant women who inspired him with their courageous spirit. His second wife and first true love, Yang Kaihui, was so taken with Mao that she gave her life in 1930 after being captured by the KMT (Nationalist Party, opposed to the Communists), saying “Even if the seas run dry and the rocks crumble, I would never break off relations with Mao Zedong… I prefer to die for the success of Mao’s revolution career”. Mao’s fourth wife, actress Jiang Qing, also took up Mao’s cause, forming the “Gang of Four” and playing a crucial role in the CPC Propaganda Department throughout the Cultural Revolution.

After Mao’s death, the country welcomed in a new leader, Deng Xiaoping, who opened the country to economic development, complete with western ideas of female elegance and grace. Today, China embraces femininity to the Nth degree— there are more shops selling cutesy bows, stockings, scarves, fake eyelashes, and short skirts than there are gas stations (okay, I admit that’s my own statistic). Really though, China has gone from foot-binding to red guards to girly headbands in one 100-year block of time. It is precisely this rapidity of social transformation that makes the role of women in modern Chinese society a crap shoot, at best, depending on who you talk to.

My conclusion: China is still decades behind the U.S. in terms of how it considers women. While many Chinese women are emerging as leading intellectuals, proving their ability on standardized tests, in the workplace, and in society, there is still an underlying sense that women do not have the same responsibilities of men, that somehow their lives are not as difficult. This is what I see as most dangerous. There is a recent trend in China where girls expect men to provide them with houses, cars, and designer bags before agreeing to date them. The Internet is overflowing with frustrated statements from males who are fed up with all the responsibility— they’re attempting to court selfish, materialistic girls who abandoned the idea of “love” long ago to secure their financial futures. So yeah, girls, there’s no way you’ll be equal in society with that attitude. Toughen up, find yourself a clear-thinking mind and then we’ll see how the world views us.

Imagine this: You book a vacation with a tour agency in China hoping to save the hassle of finding transportation and hotels in a foreign city. Having heard that China’s tour guides receive no salary other than a percentage of what their tour group spends on trinkets and “extra” excursions, you’re savvy to the fact that you’ll be dragged to numerous souvenir shops only to be approached by ferocious sales associates looking to close a deal with the tour agencies and leave you with a slender wallet.

The day began with our tour guide explaining that she would take us to China’s leading company in green innovativation, “The Bamboo House”, which uses bamboo to create clothing and personal products of the utmost quality… or so they said. The woman above was our sly sales associate, who led us to a classroom where we sat and listened to an hour-long infomercial about bamboo washcloths that can repel oil and braces that use natural minerals to bring a healing warmth to sore joints. When we first arrived, my coworkers and I used a harsh skepticism to shield ourselves from the intrigue of the saleswoman’s words. However, as the minutes ticked away and we were allowed to touch and try out the products for ourselves, the wall of doubt that had previously blocked any desire to consume slowly crumbled amidst a growing perception that these truly were “one-of-a-kind” products whose value exceeded their price.

The photo above depicts one of our company’s secretaries (left), who after rolling her eyes throughout the first fifteen minutes of the presentation found herself dumbstruck and in awe of the heat she felt on the back of her neck after testing out “The Bamboo House” neck brace. One can also see the pure evil in the saleswoman’s eyes… to be discussed soon.

It’s hard to describe exactly how I felt while sitting in the classroom letting the woman’s words infiltrate my mind. It was as though my conscious was dying to give in and trust her while something in my subconscious questioned why she felt the need to emphasize the fact that “the company’s address and phone number can be found on each product, and you may return any product before 40 days if you are not fully satisfied, no questions asked!”. At one point in the presentation, another one of my coworkers turned to me and said “完了” or, “I’m finished”. He said he planned to spend at least ¥1000 on these products— gifts for his family and friends.

If my subconscious felt a bit funny during the presentation, it is nothing compared to how I felt when walking aimlessly through the store afterwards. It was like a never-ending Walmart— a maze of merchandise hanging from the ceiling to the floor and trinkets colorfully piled on tables as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of sales associates stood by, ready to pounce if they caught your eyes lingering a second too long on a particular product. After walking relatively fast through the store, I suddenly had the notion that I was walking in circles, stumbling across products that I had already seen once, twice, three times before. The stale, monotonous air suddenly made everything feel like polyester, not bamboo, and my mind spiraled into the kind of claustrophobia kids feel in clothing stores.

When I finally rounded the last corner of the store and burst through two swinging brown doors, I found myself face to face with the scene below: 
That’s right folks— store number two… another winding maze of thousands of “genuine” pearl necklaces, earrings, bracelets. It was here that I was told not to take any photos, heaven forbid somebody ever try to warn future tourists about this monstrous marketing hell.

I should say now that while these pictures may resemble a mall, the building we initially entered looked more like a modern museum or factory— sleek and white with the kind of precision that reminds one of an operating room. To discover room after room of products waiting to win one over with mysterious allure gave one the sensation of being brainwashed, though I now see that that is indeed what was happening.

Approximately two hours after entering the building, I was the first of the group to stumble drunkenly into sunlight. Hands free of packages, I looked around to see that I had fared quite well— almost 90% of other tour groups clutched shopping bags, some large some small, and everyone stood expressionless against the backdrop of the white building. The majority of tourists were retired, likely short on money to begin with but easily attracted by the “bargain” of purchasing 48 towels for ¥48 instead of one towel for ¥12.

After returning to the bus, we waited almost 30 minutes for two of our coworkers to return— one of whom was the guy who had warned me he was “finished” and planned to spend a wad of cash on what he had convinced himself were worthy products. It was then that one of my good friends handed over his cell phone with a thread of online posts about this so-called “Bamboo House” company. The following is one true account of a tourist who came before us:

Translation: “Our company went to Yangshuo, Guilin to vacation on September 6th, 2012. Our company has over 180 people total. On the 7th of September, we went to Guilin Yangshuo “Grape Village” (I’m not sure if this address is real or fake, but it’s also the address listed on the products). There was a factory inside, called “旭日集团” or “The Bamboo House”. After entering we were first brainwashed and told about each product’s use. Then they led us to shop. One is not allowed to take pictures when shopping. There were many different products inside, some of which were a magnetic mug- ¥168, a pair of underwear- ¥128, and a protective brace- ¥380. I spent over ¥300 in total, my girlfriend spent over ¥700. I don’t know how much our company’s coworkers spent in total, but everyone left with bags, big and small. I don’t know how many fake products were inside, but the magnetic brace was certainly fake. They told us the inside of the brace had tourmaline, but when I went online to check, I learned that this company actually puts hot pepper flakes inside, which are extremely hot to the tongue. Once your neck is a bit sweaty, apply the brace directly to the neck for three seconds and when you take it away, your skin will be painfully hot. Our saleswoman claimed this feeling was due to “moisture”. As soon as I went online and found out the products were fake, I immediately got out of the bus and prepared to return the products, but I was seen by our tour guide. When I told him the products were fake, he disagreed and said they were real, asking “how could they be fake when I’ve been taking people here for years and no one has ever returned the products?”. So I just believed him. That tour guide definitely has made some kind of deal with them. Our company was cheated into giving almost ¥10,000, maybe even ¥100,000. Now I don’t know how many people have been cheated in the past, but I still have the receipt from my purchase. I’m asking you all to please take these terrible people down and bring us justice. We have lost our hard-earned money.”

Yeah, so… remember when that coworker of mine started to believe them when her neck turned warm after using the special brace? Turns out it was just hot pepper flakes irritating her skin. Below are more photographs from other scheming businesses we were taken to during the same trip.

Later that day, after visiting the bedding company above, our tour guide brought us to a park. I was relieved to have the opportunity to tour and vacation instead of listening to infomercials. Towards the middle of our tour, we were led into a room and told it was used for “doing business with Taiwanese and Japanese guests”. To me, the room was far too ordinary to be used for either diplomatic meetings or high rolling businessmen, so I listened to the tour guide half-heartedly. Then a man entered saying he was from Hong Kong and told us that our tour guide had specifically asked not to take us to another shop to buy things— we had already been to far too many that day. He then invited us to watch a special ten-minute film, which he claimed would narrate the concept and importance of “feng-shui” in China, but turned out to be another obvious attempt at brainwashing/marketing. After the propaganda film ended, we were led into a room filled with Buddhist stone bracelets and told that we were “special guests” who could enjoy 50% off everything.

It was at that point— approximately our 6th experience dealing with marketers on a two-day trip— that I lost my temper. The fact that these people were lying to our faces and promising that they would not try to push us to buy more things made their marketing attempts simply insulting. I ran out into the park and told my coworker, who had long escaped outside for a smoke after the first minute of the film, that I was furious with the tourism industry in China. Had our company honestly paid money for a travel agency to make things easier for us only to empty our wallets on them again during the actual vacation? More importantly, our day literally consisted of touring two mediocre parks and suffering through four different marketing attempts.

That night, my coworkers and I vowed never again to book a vacation through a travel agency in China. It is a surprisingly lucrative business, however, even if it does happen to tug at the moral fiber of tour guides, sales associates, tourists, and the entire society as a whole. The truth is that there is rarely a truth in China— locals habitually doubt the quality of nearly everything they buy, and even the merry park-goer must question the legitimacy of a flowering tree (often times a beautiful blooming bush is the clever artistic result of plastic petals). One can say it’s just a business, but it’s hard to deny that this level of legal acceptance of fraudulent behavior will have significant repercussions on Chinese society and its reputation worldwide.