In agony, I know not why I am so disillusioned: It wearies me; you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, what stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, that I have much ado to know a stranger neighbor. Lately, I went to a trip to India, as a freelance journalist and researcher; in reminiscent of people I have encountered and my experience of being hoodwinked, I tend to draw to the fact that, behind xenophobia there resides solid and reasonable cultural shock. More or less, when it comes to international relations and intercultural communication, people are susceptible to some preordained stereotypes and thinking modes, co-manipulated by experts, sojourners, travellers and media story tellers. These concocted and mediated syrup, once being cooked and feed to audience by media, start to ferment and reverberate in every individual transcultural cases. To be more specific, when we talk about Sino-India relations, or China’s interaction with other countries in South Asian and Southeast Asian region, people can be very judgmental and self-centered, using nooks and crannies of “quasi-ethnographic” recounts accessible through media, wrapped up together with their real life experience and passed onto you as “sagely advices” and predictions. By the time I was about to embark on my first journey in India, a few friends who had travel and business experience in India approached, offering their brochure-like suggestions. “To Indian people, you cannot really trust them, they are sloppy, irresponsible and unreliable, and very often jump on you like a vulture for any potential profits. You need to be really careful, be cautious about their real intents and don’t show any sympathy for them. Because, when you show sympathy, either for their wretchedness or just for expression of friendliness, they will take advantage of you,” said one friend who travels to India on a regular basis in textile industry. To me, one trained journalist and anthropologist, these remarks, albeit from friendly intent, are too “India-basher” toned and highly stereotypical. My basic observation and understanding about “oriental countries” is that we all share many similarities (in terms of national character) and glorious historical memories. Concerning current experience, all these countries in South Asian regions have serious democratic and egalitarian problems. On one hand, these countries have been haunted by mal-governance and recalcitrant, corrupted bureaucrats; on the other hand, people are suffering from meager resources, polluted environment and pernicious political consequences. Partly due to these oriental dilemma and domestic predicament, people have been denied chances to understand an outside world through balanced and well-conceived reportage and necessary means for face-to-face communication. As a result, the most malignant and arrogant definitions have been tagged by those knowledge-deprived mass. One real case, merging together with these pre-conceived stereotypes, can be functioned as evidences, which are legitimized as “conviction” against the preformed judgment and further ascertain the other as “guilty, menacing and sinful”. These convolutedly mutual “conviction, damning and condoning” judgment have been finally woven into social fibers, simmered in hatred, suspicions and hostilities. Thereof, nationalistic and xenophobia haranguers can dabble their words on this social canvass at their own will. My travel experience in India was a chance for me to test many stereotypes preordained in my mind and alike on many other Chinese peers. Merchants of New Dehli: How to turn “good morning” into business? Two days after I arrived to New Delhi, I decided to go to Taj Mahal � one of the most important tourist icons in Chinese eyes. Early in the morning, I got up and gazed outside the window, upon the smog/fog molested New Delhi, shrouded in a mixture view of continual verdant trees and variegated colonial architectures -- at least from my side of window. Chin-nuzzled, from the early morning extra nib of winter, I walked around in the street, with one camera in hand. Along the street, there were a few people still squatting in their hammocks: some already got out of their beds, pissing on the wall; some standing beside street, scrubbing and washing their bodies, half naked; some leaned against trees, examining one insect in the bush; some stepped out of really beat-up buses, buzzing off with long and black smoke tails. So far, so good. I started to converse to myself, what are the qualities of a truly nice city? One place as clean as a well sorted out prison or organic and diverse urban spaces, interspersed with straying birds, wandering dogs and swiveling oxen? The images of eternal Ganges River, water burial, temples, Sai Baba, Shiva, camphor flame, Buddhists, Dharamsala � information accessible through internet and books, swarmed in. My mind was overwhelmed with sentiments, emotions, and sympathies concerning a charismatic India. At this moment, an Indian young man of medium height walked past, while looked back and grinning at me, “Nice weather isn’t it?” “Sure it is.” “Are you Japanese?” (In some occasion, guessing one’s nationalities could be used a subtle way of compliment, which sometimes could be exasperating if it misguided. Chinese tourists’ typical media image is pompous, loud, pretentious; in contrast, Japanese tourists in general tend to be more appreciative for the value of low profile and being inconspicuous. Hence, to be misconstrued as Japanese could be a compliment in some cases.) “No, I am Chinese.” “Really? You know what, just the other day, I visited Nepal and have seen Chinese temples. I like China. Do you like India?” “Yes, very relaxed city.” “Do you have plans for travel?” (I told him I am planning to visit Taj Mahal this morning and actually leaving soon � my booked bus soon will pick me up at the hotel.) “You know, Taj Mahal is a holy place, if you wear this (while pointing at my regular western style dress), it’s not respectful and no good. There is a bazaar nearby, and you can pick up one Indian dress with scarf, it will be good. I can write down the name of the shop for you, if you like.” I didn’t know whether or not it was the moment when the “problematic” sympathy slide in, according to my Chinese friend’s “Book of Indian Sophistications”. Coincidently, I do have a habit of buying local dress and even trying the most unorthodox food for the sake of authentic experience � something anthropologists tend to unapologetically cherish and practice. During that moment, when this friendly Indian young man started to ransack his pocket for a piece of paper in vain, a motor tricycle stopped by with two persons inside. He started talking to the middle age man in Hindi, and wrapped up with English: Take him to the bazaar and then drive him back to his hotel. Bidding goodbye, I followed the tricycle to the bazaar as recommended by the Indian stranger, the man sat besides me told me the driver is his uncle, who can drive but not street wise enough. So he moonlights as the pilot for his uncle during weekend. To make the long story short, I finally found the shop for the Indian dress -- Taj Mahal-friendly dress, and bought a few other stuff, over-priced of course, after I negotiated through a crowd of salesmen who struggled to sell me almost everything in their shop: elephant carving, scarf, shawl, lighter, painting, Buddhist scripture, jewelry, women wedding dress, pipe, etc. I picked up two wool shawls and one yellowish Indian dress, which believed to be knitted by Buddhists in mountainous region of northern India and the boss of the shop, told me part of money would go back to Indian poor communities. En route to my hotel, the “pilot” asked me whether do I have interests to visit another bazaar, “Those things are so good, you eyes look at it and your eyes are very happy!” I said thank you millions of times in order to cut short his advertisement. To his chagrin and sensing my reluctance for another shopping, he reclaimed his smile while saying: “I have dropped you to a shop, you are happy and can you give me some money?” “I think you two are together, I will give you the money for the driving,” Said I. “But, I don’t know the driver, I have to leave on the next stop and he will take you to the hotel. Can I have my money?” panic rising and impatience has clouded his whole face. “You just said he is your uncle.” After questioning the amount of money I should give to his “uncle”, he got off reluctantly; his scintillating eyes moment ago have now turned into menacingly acid rain. During the next few days in India, this “good morning” style ambush and Blitzkrieg shopping experience kept rushing back to my mind, especially when no less than 10 Indian strangers approached as friends, sandwiched within their “financial solicitations”. I was wondering who have really gained and lost in these transactions and how much? Do we incline to make the same mistakes, by twiddling imagination/reality, disillusion/impression, and policy/polity into wrong positions in everyday life occasions? In reality, we are feeding ourselves with too much stereotypical conjectures and observations, and if one extra real occurrence fit nicely with those conjectures, one tends to burst into temper by yelling: all these rumors and judgments about Indian people are true! In international relation sphere, together with this personally conceived sentiment and antipathy, there are too many invisible and visible hands and phantoms, designed as grand strategies or dominion conspiracies, by political strategists, stretched the bilateral and multilateral relations among contesting countries in neighboring situation into a transfigured visage, as depicted by Salvador Dali in his painting: Premonition of Civil War � civil, in the sense that these nations once upon a time all being recognized as oriental exotica by a more alien subjugator and conquistador power, phrased more often in the term as “The Western Colonizers”. Sometimes, Asian countries have barely learned from the miserable colonization experience and oriental dilemma, encroaching upon our common habitats when we lose our grounds as our mutually shared traditional moral fibers, culture and trust decomposed in this brinkmanship-defined Asia and beyond. Back to the morning-business case happened on me, this unsolicited and well-crafted selling technique could be rumored and reported as another xenophobia in the disguise of cultural shock. However, media favor accidents and odds, and I truly doubt the everyday life of Indian people is all about cheating, raping, peeing in the street and marauding foreigners. The reason why I have been “exploited” culturally by this business malpractice can only prove one fact: I haven’t visited India frequently enough and not all Chinese are zestful about shopping; cultural intimacy starts from mutual respect, frequent interaction and tons of myth-busting cultural incidents, revered by some and reviled by many others. Most of foreigners tend to recoil as misunderstanding and hatred simmering inside, and joining the crowd to produce updated version of stereotypes and cultural conspiracies against another culture or people. (The writer is the Associate Director of the Public Opinion Program, South China Sea Center at Nanjing University.) （From: People's Review, 2 March 2016 ） |