Notes From Xi'an 西安随感

Xi’an. Modern City, city of the ancients, city of technology, science and education, city of a city wall, city of the Buddha’s finger, city of Emperors, city of conquest, city of contradiction.

An ancient city of culture without culture, a contemporary culture sublimating a culture, a city finding balance in a future culture. The bright lights of a night city pagoda’s entertainment mall, wide freeways and san lun ches (三轮车s). Warmth, hospitality, overpricing, free drinks, lao wai (老外), differences and not a few similarities. Simplicity, clarity, haziness and pollution. Sixty in a class, extra curricula classes, never enough classes, I like my classes, I like my classmates, I like my school, I like my country. My country likes me.

River people, widowed people, homeless people, newly-housed people, proud people, loud people, peaceful people, people of a time, people of a place. Xi’an’s people. Silent people, singing people, walled-in people, self-determined people, educated people, un-educated people, realistic people, hopeful people. Different people.

Free will, no will. Expansion, development, disrepair, has been repaired, still needs to be repaired. Newly built, not really built, needs to be rebuilt. Does matter, doesn’t matter. What matters? Food matters. This food, that food, what food, whose food? Our food. Have much, don’t have much, don’t want much, want what I haven’t got, got what I haven’t got. Warriors, borrowers, investors, debtors, jokers, jesters, trustees, trust hers, trust whose? Winning smiles, legs for miles, public trials and McDonalds selling  freedom fries.

Working life, lived life, living life, life of the past, life of the present, I like life. Xi’an’s life. Xi’an’s people. Zhong Lou, Nan Da Jie, Xiao Zhai, Bai Hui, Gao Xin, Chang’ An Lu. Happy people, sad people, living people. Xi’an’s people. We are those people.

The week that was, began when I was woken by an incoming text message to my girlfriends phone, while she still lay sleeping. The message from a friend of hers relayed the news that we should be careful of fellow bus passengers armed with needles, needles that carry a deadly strain of some unpleasant and potentially life threatening virus. The post-conversation, with my then awoken girlfriend, turned to talk of safety, bomb threats, Xin Jiang people, H1N1 flu and the general worries of modern life in China.

It was too much for me, I got up, went for breakfast at the Xin Jiang restaurant down stairs, took a rush hour bus into town and then took one straight back, attempted to hurdle the fence into the quarantined Art School, though failing due to a somewhat large security cordon, rather than any lack of hurdling prowess on my part. I then returned home to begin my week as if nothing had happened by going to work.

 Ok, I didn’t do any of the above but for quite different reasons. I didn’t eat at the Xin Jiang restaurant because that is something never done, a matter of principal rather than taste, based on the fact that the pick pockets on my street are all from the Xin Jiang community and well known by the restauranters.  (For those that may worry about the racism in such a statement, there is none to be found, it is based on 3 years of living on Yang Jia Cun and observing the proficiency they have in their chosen field). Secondly, I didn’t take the buses as it was most unnecessary at such an unearthly hour, though later in the week I did. Thirdly, I didn’t hurdle the Art School gate but did discover later in the week that the Art School had been quarantined and consequently the Art School Café closed. At which point, a friend and I headed back to Sculpting in Time Cafe, where we were greeted by a local friend of mine telling us to be careful, as there were people on buses carrying deadly needles dipped in poison. The week seemed to be ending as it had begun.

 As it was, the rain also continued falling most of the week but by the week end my girlfriend and I found ourselves in the pleasant garden surrounds of Qing Long Temple and not beneath the dark urban skies of down town Xi’an. Gardens in the rain are always calming peaceful places, they are even more so in China when the usual masses refuse to go out.

With the issues of the week still circling in my head I did comment, as we rode the 19 bus from Shi Da University to the temple, that there didn’t seem many people on the bus. My girlfriend pointed out however, in her matter-of-obvious fact manner, that it is the weekend (stupid!) and no matter where you are and what’s going on, people don’t rush out of bed and onto the buses at the weekend, especially when it’s raining. The old 221 back to the Bell Tower  was reassuringly packed. All well there then.

I recently have been looking around at voluntary projects in Xi’an and came across these two companies, i-to-i and Global Volunteers. All I can say is never, never do these things, never. Now, I understand if one does not have experience of doing these kinds of projects or have any knowledge of the host country and that they need some help with organizing such work, however I still find these projects absolutely unacceptable in terms of cost and more often than not in terms of the value of the work undertaken.

All I can say to you is think long and hard about what it is you want to do because in my opinion you are most certainly wasting your money paying what is £800-$1,176 (8000 RMB) and £1,600-$2,495 (16,000 RMB) for 2 weeks voluntary work. These costs are a disgrace and I write this having reflected on the note I began a few days ago. When I first discovered these projects and accordant fees I felt my response may have been a little too impassioned, but it was not and I am not. It makes me so angry to even think of it. This note continues and some of the issues arising from this are discussed below.

(Update: May 2010- see the Xi’an Links & Listings Page for Charities and some Voluntary Opportunities in Xi’an- I obviously cannot take responsibility for any of these projects, these are pointers hopefully in the right direction)

First, i-to-i are asking you to pay £800 ($1,176) for 2 weeks voluntary work, to pay for your own flight, to organize your own visa, and then you do your voluntary work. For every week you want to continue, you have to pay another £150/ $220 (1496RMB), meantime you are living in a dorm room and eating food that probably would only cost about $3.00 a meal here. So, for two weeks teaching you will pay $1,176 as well as flights and a visa, that is 8000 RMB plus the not inconsiderable additional costs. I cannot believe it.

Global Volunteers is even worse, their project for two weeks costs a staggering £1696 ($2,495) or £1,832 ($2695) for three weeks, 16,966RMB and 18,326RMB. The i-to-i project includes dormitory accommodation, three meals a day and transportation to and from site, as well as a local programme of support. The Global Volunteers fee includes ‘tourist class hotel’, all meals, on-the-ground support, $200 towards materials and administration.

All I ask is that anyone thinking about these projects does so very carefully. This is not because I do not believe in voluntary work; I have done a variety of voluntary projects in my time. I just cannot believe how appalling these organizations are. Doing voluntary work is doing voluntary work; paying to do voluntary work, get over it.

Of course, the costs of your placement must be covered but it seems to me these organizations should have a moral responsibility to keep these costs as low as possible, the volunteer is volunteering that is their contribution, surely any well structured organization will have other revenue streams in place to offset the financial burden on the volunteer, or micro-managing the project well enough on the ground, so fees do not reach these levels.

Volunteering is not about wealth it is about somebody giving up their own time to help someone else. These fees are phenomenal, no matter what these organizations might say, they are not doing a good enough job of respecting the nature of the project, and they should not be trusted in any way to offer a valuable voluntary experience.(*With regard to this point see an additional comment at the bottom)

Now, let us consider the cost of renting a luxury flat here in Xi’an. It would cost between 2000RMB ($294) – 3000RMB ($441) per month to have a 2-3 bedroom, furnished, great flat here in Xi’an (My 3 bed roomed flat costs 1000 RMB). That is about $73 and $110 a week respectively. So, the cost for living here in the centre of the city, at the most expensive rates, would be a maximum of $220 for a fortnight.

This figure could then be divided by 4 or 6 depending on whether it is a 2 or 3 bedroom flat, on the basis that both companies offer only shared accommodation as standard, i-to-i in a dormitory. The final figures per person for a two or three bed roomed luxury flat for a fortnight would be $55 and $36 respectively. A volunteer is paying $1,176 or $2,495 over that period.

This might seem a little of a false comparison but I just want to offer people an idea of the cost of life here and really the costs that an organized and established organization should be aiming at, at the very top end. The additional tariffs allow us to see roughly the cost of the project for a week for one person, though even they are a little expensive. Let us look again very closely at the figure that is being charged per week over and above that weekly figure.

For i-to-i it is $388 a week and for Global Volunteers it is $1027. These figures may, depending on your own financial circumstances not seem so bad, but in China, they are astronomical in terms of any sort of logistical/ transportation/ staffing costs. These are aspects that should also be to a large degree already managed on a macro-financial level, not simply on a volunteer by volunteer basis.

Global Volunteers talks about $200 of this going on materials, but what materials, $200 per person in China on materials is a lot of materials. They are not needed when you are teaching a bit of English for a couple of weeks. Moreover, a volunteer is offering their time free, why should a large donation also be formally attached to that commitment. Global Volunteers note:

‘The Global Volunteers service program fee reflects the actual costs of establishing and maintaining the program in each country. Eighty-five percent of the fee pays for program costs such as food, lodging, ground transportation, team leader expenses, project materials, volunteer coordination, program development and coordination, volunteer materials and communication, and on-site consultants. The balance is used for organizational overhead.’

They are saying that all the above will cost 14, 421RMB for two weeks. I actually, after being here in Xi’an for nearly three years, cannot quite comprehend that figure. Surely doing voluntary work is not about six star* living!

All I can say is find your own work and/ or think very carefully about the value of the work you are about to undertake. If you are going to do voluntary work here, then get yourself into the village communities of China, where most foreign teachers are not. If you want to do voluntary work here, you maybe need to be a little more proactive. There are a number of options. First, I would suggest getting into contact with any charities that already work in a region of China you are interested in, not one already organizing expensive placements, just one that has some contacts on the ground.

Secondly, I suggest you contact both the Yellow River Soup Kitchen and the Library Project in Xi’an, as they already have contacts with various insufficiently resourced schools around Shaanxi and may be able to put you in the right direction. Third, if you have more time and you want to make a slightly longer commitment I suggest first finding a paid placement here, this will offer you an easy route into establishing yourself in Xi’an. You can then choose to work limited hours and discover valuable voluntary projects yourself.

Get real and get it done yourself, you do not need these companies, or maybe you do but you need one that recognizes its moral responsibility in that role. The process of taking a little more time and responsibility for your choice of voluntary work will probably make the whole thing more rewarding in the end.

*See the first comment below for an important additional note.

The conversion rate was based on $1 to 6.8RMB and £1 to 10RMB.

[This comment has been manually transferred from my previous site:

Mark (markschinablog) May 10th 2009 said:

This is a nice write-up, Ricardo.

You give thoroughly convincing arguments for not doing these programs.

You didn’t touch on one of the most questionable parts of the program though: the students that these teaching “opportunities” are for.

If a person participating in one of these programs is expecting to work with poor or under-privileged students, he or she will most likely be disappointed. Often, voluteer teachers are assigned to work with middle and upper class urban Chinese students.

I imagine that the foreigners who do these programs aren’t really interested in spending so much money just so that they can teach well-off Chinese kids. But that’s what these programs are.

I know that this is the case from experience. I haven’t participated in any of these programs, but I’ve met several people in Xi’an who’ve come over here to volunteer with these programs and ended up being placed at local colleges or wealthy boarding schools.

This kind of placement just adds insult to injury when combined with the astronomical costs you’ve just outlined.

I 100% agree with this post. Don’t come over here through the above-mentioned voluntourism programs.

[updated Jan. 2012] The city centre is surrounded by an ancient city wall with the main routes out of the city all passing through one of a variety of gates, the largest being simply the North, East, South and West gates. I live in the south, about a 20-minute taxi ride or a 30-minute bus ride  [now a 10-15 minute subway ride] from the centre of the city, which is marked by the Bell Tower (see below). Taxis are easy to flag down, run on a meter, are relatively cheap and are often used when first arriving as bus routes in Chinese characters can be somewhat daunting at first and, depending on mood, somewhat depressing later.

When you do start getting the buses or even when getting a taxi do not wait for those around you to usher you in, or recognise that you arrived first, if you do you will be waiting some time. What is though interesting and begins to reveal the street level value of life here, is that even in the hurly burly of getting on a bus or asserting your right to get the next taxi you will very rarely if ever come across anger and violence. Over and above the seeming disorder is a quiet civility and respect. It is maybe not always obvious to the eye on first arrival but it is there. The best and most frequent examples are the regular near miss scenarios between pedestrian and cyclist, motorcyclist and cyclist, bus and car, and taxi and everything, but the absolute lack of aggression in these circumstances; verbally or physically.

I am not speaking for the whole of China, though sometimes my tone may mislead and I apologize for that, but from my experience of living in Xi’an now for nearly three [5] years. I have so rarely seen public displays of anger and certainly not actual physical abuse.  A superficial observation is that it seems the people here are accepting of circumstance, something happens, they get on with it. One of the nicest things about living here is this absence of aggression in these day-day situations, when back in Britain we attain or witness various levels of anger and abuse on a semi-regular basis.

My preferred form of transport is motorbike taxi, which are supposedly illegal but exceptionally useful and if illegal the government should really attempt some form of licensing. [as the roads have got busier they are maybe more dangerous and there are actually fewer of them now as well] The remarkable thing about the motorbike and moped riders here is that they are nearly all helmet-less, it is actually the thing I like about it. Though, with the rate of car increase sooner rather than later it will become a little too dangerous. Not that I have ever been one for wearing a helmet while cycling, but there will come a point where a motorbike and helmet will form the same symbiotic relationship they have in the West.

Xi’an is in the West of China and is considered somewhat “out west”. These are some of the last remnants of the Chinese Wild West. Xi’an is quickly on the change, development is coming and it is now coming quickly, but the heart under the surface is I believe, for now atleast, still maintained. The people are friendly and there is an openness and innocence that is so refreshing to be around. There is hope and excitement but a feeling of pressure, and the perception that the opportunities that these greater levels of development supposedly supply may well actually pass most by.

The question will be how will all this manifest here in Xi’an, here in China. Why I love living here is because of some of the above but also because we are in the middle of all this and they/ we don’t know where it is going. These are good people, who just want to face the life as best they can, as we all do, let’s hope we all get that chance. I for one feel very lucky to be living this life and experiencing all this here in Xi’an. I am not sure if these Notes have done Xi’an or my views on Xi’an justice but no doubt I will uncover more about life here as these Notes continue.

See the main Xi’an Centred Notes Page for more:

[updated Jan. 2012] I have written a few notes here now but have not yet really given an account of what Xi’an is like, so I will do that now. Xi’an is a great place to live, but I must first be clear that the life here for a foreigner – whether a teacher or someone earning an expat wage – is far and away easier than it is even for our Chinese counterparts, let alone the majority who do not have anything like the opportunity for the lifestyle we have.

That is not to say there are not the ridiculously wealthy Chinese, there certainly are and their number is swelling. While what could loosely be described as a middle-class – a problem term at the best of times but more so here with the so-called middle class being generally such a minority – is becoming more visible year on year, or even season upon season. The fashion season, rather than one of weather changes. The joy and energy with which the Chinese are applying to shopping (as a relatively recent pastime)  makes it is easy to see where domestic consumer growth could be found to off set the slump in exports to the suffering West.

Life here as a foreign teacher allows, what some of us refer to as, the retirement life style with youth attached. This means that it is possible to do part-time work, study Chinese for a good chunk of the week, and still have a good chunk of time to hang out with friends and loved ones. Finally, the money earned for a week doing what teachers do here, far and away exceeds the average workers monthly salary for working fulltime. Many are unaware of this upon arrival and it of course contributes greatly to the enjoyment of life.

You can certainly work full-time, though not really learn Chinese, and earn a lot of money. This, as in the case of a large number of African teachers here, allows the opportunity for investments, that supply the basis for a business back at home. If you are a foreigner here doing your job from back home, then you are living the classic expat life, still working full-time but with your money going a whole lot further, with various other perks thrown in. However, Xi’an doesn’t really have a ‘classic’ expat life comparable to the large cities of Shanghai, Beijing and Hong Kong, or even Dalian and Guangzhou. Xi’an’s foreign community is still predominantly a community of teachers and students, although that is beginning to change with the increased number of foreign firms beginning to open offices in the High Tech District and beyond. [see the Xi'an Business Forum website]

However, I want to take this note outside the realm of affluence and opportunity and just outline a few things about Xi’an which make me actually feel at home, as well as give an idea of what is going on here. Xi’an is a great city with an incredible history, it is a city of about 8-9 million with 4-5 of those in the main centre and inner suburbs, but still doesn’t feel like a big city at all and is actually considered somewhat of a backwater with regards to modern Chinese cities, though that is beginning to change.

I do not believe people in other countries who have not been here can comprehend the construction work that goes on here. Cranes are everywhere; buildings are being pulled down within every street and around every corner. Pavements are being laid for the first time in places where a track was just months or a couple of years earlier. Fields on the outskirts of town, as well as in town centres, are being concretized at a rate probably comparable to a decade or two of growth back in the day in Britain, but that is taking a year or two here.

As an example, eight or so of the Universities here in downtown Xi’an have built shiny new ‘Super Campuses’ on the outer southern edge of the city. When I arrived in Xi’an those areas were quite literally rice fields, these ‘Super Campuses’ now exist and so increasingly do the apartment blocks and restaurants that service them, and, with their own life force, are transforming the area into a whole new suburb of the city.

Just south of the Big Goose Pagoda (pictured left), which is one of the most famous historical spots here in Xi’an and not far from the city centre, a huge lake was created and is now one of Xi’an’s favourite weekend retreats. That area is itself now being developed with the building of luxury apartment blocks, fine restaurants and shops. As a living area it did not exist when I came here, it is now named Qu Jiang and is quickly becoming the place to live.

This Note continues in Part II.

Tomorrow is another day but I was up again and heading off to the bus station just as I had done two days earlier. This time as I arrived at the station I was relieved to see the line pleasingly manageable, probably about where I had entered it the first time just this time I was to do so legitimately and with over an hour before the station doors were to be opened. I had a good book tucked in my pocket but was more interested in just watching the morning’s activities unfold from a more secure vantage point than previously, although with a gathering crowd that was beginning to look increasingly unmanageable.

This time people were steadily allowed to gather in quite a large group around the head of the queue, with various characters skulking in the still darkened hours of early morning amongst them. Some of them, not happy enough to have slipped into a forward position while pretending to engage others with mild morning chatter, silently and slowly drifted even further forward in the line. Until a collection of men, who I had individually observed moving in and about the line, had gathered at the head of the queue; first subtly pretending to peer searchingly inside the as yet unlit station before forming a niche of bodies infront of all others. This whole time people were steadily arriving and noticeably, like myself a couple of days earlier, unsure whether to stand their ground around the head of the line or take their place in the ever extending train of people heading backwards. I began to notice that there were a few men seemingly quite familiar with proceedings and confidently bestriding the line. I also recognised a couple of men in the queue who I had seen the previous morning and began to get the impression that there must of course be some kind of third-party system for buying tickets.

The station attendants who the previous morning had been wielding people into line with their sticks were conspicuous this morning by their absence. I was, from a reasonable starting point, beginning to worry that the large crowd that had formed around the entrance would actually lead to quite considerable delays and even a little bit of chaos and anger, if they did not soon manage it. I need not have worried, although some earlier organisation may have been better for all concerned, but with only 10 minutes to go they arrived. The guards first, amusingly, removed the shadowy gentlemen at the head of the queue before creating a division between the single line and the rest. This was the time for some to take a place where they hadn’t previously but many were too slow to do so and were soon being jettisoned by a pointed finger, a shout, a rough banging of a stick on the ground at their feet or a quick pulling of an arm. From chaos moments earlier came calm; an orderly queue on one side and a collection of sleepy, unsure, slightly confused and frustrated, though still hopeful figures on the other. The line moved off inside the station.

I was one of the first in the queue and had my ticket in my hand within about 20 minutes, by which time the line at the window for my own particular destination was already over 100 souls deep. After some difficulty exiting the station through a mass of entwined queues and bodies I arrived outside again, to discover the line still disappearing into the distance down along the pathway. I was happy to have had this more sedately experience compared to the previous morning and the opportunity these two days to observe New Year matters down at the bus station, but happier still to be heading home with ticket tucked away securely.

Chinese New Year is fast approaching and people in their masses are heading home. Yesterday I wandered down to the bus station to buy a ticket for my girlfriend who is also returning home for Spring Festival, a few days before I join her. No problem I had thought, a bit of a wait then I would arrive back at the flat a knight in shining armour, clutching a much sought after ticket when she returned from work. However, upon arriving at the station I was faced with the unexpected sight of lines circling, exiting and then re-entering the building. This meant I would start off in the building, follow the line back out of the building, back in again and then wait with the 90 odd still ahead of me who were pressed as tightly together as possible, so to make the numbers seem smaller than they actually were.

Sadly, the numbers were themselves actually greater, swelled by those nipping in with the offer of cash to the lucky ones already edging towards the front of the queue. After surveying this scene I decided to check what time the station opened in the morning and what time I should realistically arrive. I was told it opened at 7 and I should be there by 6.30. Ok.

I awoke earlier than intended and headed off on my bike. Upon arriving again at the bus station, this time in the dim light of morning and with hat and scarf sheltering my face from the cold, I discovered the queue to already be leading away from the main entrance, along the path and around the furthest corner, the end out of sight! I hovered for a few minutes by the entrance working out if it was possible to just join the line at this end but the yelling and wielding of 1-2 metre long sticks by security guards made that option look bleak. The guards were creating a safety zone around the official queue so anyone attempting to push in would be spotted, prodded, potentially whacked and then ejected. I slowly walked the length of the queue weighing up the depth of my chivalry, as I considered the necessary 2-3 hour wait that now faced me. Then as I a sauntered back up the line un-decided, worried in true prisoner’s dilemma style that if I joined the line around the corner others would join it further up when the queue started moving, there was intense activity at the front of the line as the station opened.

At that point I was walking quite close to the queue and a gap appeared as people moved off ahead, without thinking I just stepped into it. It wasn’t my greatest chivalric moment and my heart was beating a lot faster having done so but I was glad to be in line. Many others had done the same and the guards began running the queue, pulling out people here and there and at one point one headed straight for me with stick brandished, but instead threw out a chap just behind me. I heard one man behind me say I was a Laowai (foreigner) and not to worry. Terrible I know but great! These actions meant that once inside I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to the ones’ offering cash to those just ahead of me in the queue, where otherwise I probably would have done. I was out of the station and home before my girlfriend had even left for work. However, I was unsafe in the knowledge that as I am planning to leave on Thursday and with the fact that you can only buy your ticket three days before departure, I would be back at the station on Monday morning for more of the same, or maybe a little worse.

Chinese New Year at Xi’an’s Bus Station. Part II.