China Letter 30, 10/29/26
雨伞 - 画大饼 - How Ironic
Jin Ri Zi Du, Chengyang, Qingdao
Dear reader,
During a rainstorm, the wind snapped my second umbrella. So I have bought my third umbrella here. It is described as a “Wooden handle, straight rod, business umbrella.” It’s not a folding umbrella, and the end tip is metal. I’ve not used the umbrella yet, but it leans by my door, handsomely, like a secular staff.
Umbrella in Chinese is 雨伞, Yǔ sǎn.
I bought the umbrella at the RT Mart, which is a large retailer, near the south gate of campus. After the gate, you turn left, walk by people selling knitted toys or chips from wholesale bags, pass delivery drivers on smoke breaks, and go by a selection of restaurants and craft stores that occupy the RT Mart’s foundation. Then, you part plastic flaps, ride up the escalator, and walk past a pungent cat cafe and a salon. By the second floor entrance, there are pets for sale, on a small stand. Mice, birds, and crickets noise in tiny cages. The crickets seem to be the loudest of the bunch.
I was happy to find my umbrella, on the second floor, by the clothing, but I don’t dilly-dally in the RT Mart too much. Routinely, I get mouthwash, spray deodorant, Russian instant coffee, household cleaner, then ride down the escalator. On the first floor, there is a wide selection of food, but it’s comparatively expensive. At the foot of the inner escalator, fishes pout in tanks, waiting to be someone’s dinner. Dr. Muzangwa purchased herself a fish and was shocked when the fishmonger proceeded to lift the fish and slam it on the floor. Splat!
In Jin Ri Zi Du, a scooter driver transported a bag of compost, the size of a bale of hay.
Leaves are falling, grass is yellowing, and photinia is reddening. And China does not turn the clocks back for Daylight Saving Time.
The floor heat will stay on for almost five months, from November 16th to April 6th, after the one-time fee, of ¥1,948, or $292. Other economical differences are subtler. Take the public bathrooms, and their spare use of toilet paper. The bathroom might have a toilet with a seat, 坐便, Zuò biàn, or a squat toilet, 蹲便, dūn biàn, the porcelain hole in the ground. You can’t expect toilet paper, so you carry your own. Though, many places do provide toilet paper. Toilet paper is also left on tables, to be used like paper towels, which is pretty thrifty, but requires getting over the connotation that toilet paper is only for the potty. Also, I find public hand-soap dispensers are often filled with water to get the most out of the soap, instead of there always being one new.
Pinch a penny, afford to heat your home without paying an arm and a leg!
To conclude, I relate that, as of early this week, I’ve read three of “The Four Books,” of Confucian tradition. These four books had been part of a curriculum, for over six hundred hundred years, since the Song Dynasty. Of course, I’ve not mastered the information, but I’ve enjoyed the texts; The Analects most of all. Earlier this year, I read The Analects, and now The Great Learn and The Doctrine of the Mean. I haven’t read Mencius. The latter two are short, because they are only chapters in The Book of Rites. The Doctrine of the Mean interested me because the middle way, as an ideal, presents itself as more reasonable, while I get older.
“What Heaven has conferred is called The Nature; an accordance with this nature is called The Path of duty; the regulation of this path is called Instruction.
The path may not be left for an instant. If it could be left, it would not be the path. On this account, the superior [person] does not wait till he sees things, to be cautious, nor till he hears things, to be apprehensive.
There is nothing more visible than what is secret, and nothing more manifest than what is minute. Therefore, the superior [person] is watchful over himself, when he is alone,” (The Doctrine of the Mean, attributed to Confucius’ only grandson, Zisi, also know as, Kong Ji.)
From Dr. Chan, I’ve picked up a neat expression, 画大饼, ‘Huà dà bǐng,’ which means to ‘Make false promises.’ Literally, it means to ‘draw the big pancake,’ or ‘draw the big bread,’ an image I enjoy. He used this to refer to certain formalities. It’s like building a castle in the air, or blowing hot air, or sending the cow into the sky. Anyhow, even though ‘Huà dà bǐng,’ is a joke about insincere language, this idiom is another example of equating language to bread.
Best,
Nick