Moving Out: Beijing’s “Rejuvenation” Enters a New Phase

The continuing “Rejuvenation” of Beijing enters a new phase this spring as local authorities are starting to ask for volunteers to relocate out of the city center. Signs first posted last month in the Wudaoying area near the Lama and Confucian temples offered cash incentives for residents willing to move.

Other posters warn residents against holding out for more money and not to listen to “rumors.”

The Great Brickening which began in earnest at the end of 2017 was, as predicted, only the first phase of sweeping changes coming to the capital. By sweeping, I mean it will make Baron Haussmann seem like a stoned kid playing Sim City at 2:30 in the morning while binging on croissanwiches.

As has been widely reported, the Chinese government plans to integrate the current city of Beijing into the “regional cluster” known as Jing-Jin-Ji. The new megalopolis will incorporate not only the capital (“Jing”) but also the port city of Tianjin (“Jin”) and a huge chunk of what is now Hebei Province (the “Ji” is from an old name for the northern section of what is now Hebei).

A prominent task of the “Jing-jin-ji” strategy is to move the non-capital functions out of Beijing to treat “urban ills” in the Chinese capital, such as traffic jams and pollution.

According to a guideline released in April 2015, the key functions of politics, culture, international communication and technical innovation will be prioritized, while other sectors will be moved out of Beijing.

Measures to clear space in Beijing include the closing of manufacturing businesses and the relocation of hospitals and schools. In 2018, a total of 656 manufacturing companies in the city were shut down, and more than 200 markets and logistics centers were relocated, according to Beijing Mayor Chen Jining.

At first, the closing of markets, including many food markets in urban neighborhoods, looked like an unintentional inconvenience for those living there. Now it seems to have been part of the plan all along.

In 2014, the Beijing municipal government announced its intention to cap the population of Beijing at 23 million. On paper, this looked like a call to limit the city’s growth. Officially Beijing has about 21.7 million people, but the official figures are — shocking, I know — almost certainly wrong. Once transient workers and economic migrants from other parts of China are figured into the mix, the final number might be as high as 25 million.

This discrepancy between the official and actual numbers means that rather than seeking ways to cap the city’s growth, the authorities are going to be looking for ways to give a few million folks the boot. And if local officials can free up some valuable downtown real estate for their friends and cronies to develop then everybody wins.

Everybody, that is, except the people who are going to have to begin exciting new lives in a “city of the future.” That’s the phrase which the China Daily et al use to denote the utopian residential paradises being planned, but which actually should read: “A city we’re going to build in the future, but which at present might actually be a soybean field 100km away from where you currently live.”

The question, of course, is what happens when folks consider the request to relocate, discuss their options, and say “Thank you, no… we’re staying.” The signs not-so-subtly hint that holding out and creating a “nail house” (as the properties of those who refuse to vacate their homes are known) is not an option.

When authorities began “The Brickening” of businesses two years ago, they first went after the low hanging fruit (illegal storefronts, unlicensed businesses, businesses run by economic migrants without a Beijing residence permit). There was also the decision, after a fire killed 19 people in November 2017, to demolish structures in the outer edges of the city which had been converted into housing for large numbers of migrant workers.

Source: China Daily

Whether more established residents will be willing to move out is an open question. There are sure to be some folks who will be eager for a chance to buy into a “city of the future” or to exchange an uncomfortable corner of a hutong (traditional Beijing lane) dwelling for a new apartment, even if that apartment is a dozen or more stops away on a regional rail system which is still in the developmental stages.

Ultimately, Beijing authorities tend to get their way and the old hutong neighborhoods which today are full of life and organic communities look set to change. Maybe for the better. Possibly for the worse. But change is for certain.

All photos by Jeremiah Jenne unless otherwise stated.

China’s Growing Role in Southeast Asia Reopens Old Wounds

I’ve traveled quite a bit through Southeast Asia this winter. It is evident views of China are changing — and not always for the better.

At a temple in Luang Phabang, the cultural heart of Laos and a former imperial capital, I eavesdropped as a local guide herded two American tourists through the courtyard and into the large hall.

“There used to be a large, gold Buddha here,” the guide solemnly intoned. “But now it’s gone. The Chinese came, sacked our city, and stole all of our treasures.”

“When was that?” asked one of the clients.

“1888 Invasion. Very bad. Looted everything.”

Even I was a little surprised by the Laotian guide’s accusations of Chinese looting. I’m pretty familiar with 19th-century Chinese history, and I hadn’t heard about any incursions into Laos.

Sunset in Vang Vienne

Sunset in Vang Vieng, Laos (photo: Remi Yuan)

Turns out that in 1888 there was an invasion by armies from China, but not by the armies of the ruling Qing Dynasty. The invaders were remnant rebel forces who fled the Qing Empire following the collapse of the Taiping (1850-1864) and Panthay (1856-1873) Rebellions. Retreating commanders took their troops across the border and into Burma and Vietnam where they merged with local indigenous forces to form irregular armies. Nominally under the command of the Vietnamese court, these armies — which became known as the Black Flags — also engaged in extortion and banditry along the Mekong and Red Rivers. The Black Flags fought alongside Vietnamese and Chinese troops to resist French colonial expansion into Indochina in the Sino-French War of 1884-1885. The French victory forced the surviving Black Flags back upriver where they survived by plunder and piracy, including a sack of Luang Phabang in 1887-1888.

It is an unfortunate corollary of historiography that one people’s historical footnote is too often another people’s great tragedy.

I’ve become accustomed to being lectured — and not without good reason — for the sins of my ancestors in China, but in Southeast Asia, it is the Chinese who are the historical villains almost as often as are the European colonialists. It is a narrative which has taken on greater stridency as China looks to assert its hegemony over its smaller neighbors to the south. China’s economic clout, hunger for resources, and military power all cast a long shadow into Southeast Asia.

Related:

In Vietnam this week, current and former Vietnamese leaders honored those soldiers who died defending the country during China’s ill-advised invasion of Vietnam in 1979. The 40th anniversary of this war, in which at least 60,000 people lost their lives in less than a month of fighting, has been largely ignored in China.

(In China, the war is usually referred to as a “Self-Protection Campaign” in which the Vietnamese provocations left the PLA little choice but to invade. Basically, the same bullshit excuse the British used to start the Opium Wars.)

These divergent understandings of history can create some uncomfortable cognitive dissonance for Chinese visitors who are increasingly an engine of growth for the tourist economies in Southeast Asia. In 2011, 1.7 million Chinese tourists traveled to Thailand. That number is expected top 10 million in 2019. China is now the largest source for tourists visiting the Indonesian island of Bali, overtaking Australia, while Chinese tourism in Vietnam increased 30% in 2018 over the previous year.

Related:

As an American, I am all too aware of the historical baggage I drag with me wherever I go. The Ugly American isn’t only a stereotype. We exist. In a small airport in the central highlands of Vietnam, I was waiting for a flight to Hanoi when a fellow American started a conversation with me. He was older than I am, probably in his 60s, and he started the conversation by telling me he was flying back to his wife and business in Florida after five weeks with his Vietnamese “girlfriend” (for whom he left a large gratuity as a “thank you” and because “these folks need it.”)

But that wasn’t the weird part of the encounter.

My new acquaintance then launched into a whole speech about how the world’s airlines were controlled by the Jews who ran everything through George Soros and that something called “QAnon” predicted the “assassination” of John McCain and the upcoming assassination of Barack Obama, et. al. for reasons of “child trafficking.” It was some bizarre stuff, especially since this was apparently his go-to conversation gambit when stuck in an airport in the middle of the Vietnamese highlands.

After I cut him off with “I think they’re calling our flight” and “Excuse me, but I have to take this plastic fork and give myself an emergency orchiotomy,” I ended up googling some of the stuff he was saying because none of it made any sense.

rice terraces in vietnam

Vietnamese rice terraces (photo: Tuệ Nguyễn)

So, if I say there are some Chinese traveling in Southeast Asia with a shocking lack of self-awareness, I do so fully aware many Americans suffer the same affliction. It’s what happens when folks from big countries with strong exceptionalist identities hit the open road.

That said, I learned about the Vietnam War in high school. There are television programs, films, books, and documentaries describing in excruciating detail the extent to which American involvement in Southeast Asia unleashed an unholy hell on the people living there. Even today, over 80 million unexploded bombs remain in the Laotian countryside where they kill and maim hundreds of people each year. Nearly five million people were exposed to Agent Orange and other chemical defoliants the United States used during the Vietnam War. Despite an announced program to clean up the contamination, there are still nearly three million people dealing with the long-term effects of exposure including suffering from congenital disabilities, neurological conditions, and other horrific illnesses.

It’s not a comfortable feeling traveling to a place where people like me did so much damage, and I get why not everyone is happy to see me there no matter how much money I’m contributing to the local economy.

Will Chinese travelers learn to cope with their own baggage both historical and that which comes with being seen as representatives of a global power and regional hegemon?

According to Brian Eyler, Director of the Southeast Asia program at the Stimson Center and author of the forthcoming book The Last Days of the Mighty Mekong, China’s reputation among the countries in Southeast Asia has taken a bit of a hit over the last decade.

“Already Vietnam’s relations with China were strained by historical enmities leading back millennia but compounded by China’s actions in the South China Sea,” says Eyler.

“In Laos, Belt and Road projects like the high-speed railway and numerous dams and agricultural plantations were talked about as ‘Made by China, Made for China’ as a play on words with the ‘Made in China’ slogan. This rise in anti-China sentiment forced a change in government in January 2017 in Vientiane.”

China has attempted a charm offensive in the region, launching the Lancang-Mekong Cooperation Mechanism in 2016, but many people in Southeast Asia still are wary about China’s growing influence and are sometimes ambivalent to the growing numbers of Chinese tourists.

Back in Luang Phabang, a tourist flees a local restaurant’s restroom, imploring her travel companion in Beijing-accented Mandarin to see — and smell — for himself.

“It’s so dirty! How can you take me somewhere where the bathroom is so dirty?”

The Ugly American in me sadly watches as a metaphorical torch is passed gently along.

Cover photo: Chinh Le Duc on Unsplash

Beijing’s Forbidden City Puts on Spectacular Light Show for Lantern Festival

The Palace Museum in the heart of Beijing, more commonly referred to as The Forbidden City, recently decided to extend its opening hours for two nights only — the first time it’s been possible for the public to officially visit the historical site at night in the 94 years since the Museum was founded.

The excitement was such that when registration was opened, the website responsible for allocating the limited number of free spots available crashed. Suffice to say there were plenty of people (us included) who missed out on the chance to visit. Fortunately, thanks to a mass of photographers, we’ve not had to wait long to see the results of the former Ming and Qing dynasty palace complex all lit up in honor of Lantern Festival, the traditional culmination of Chinese New Year festivities taking place on the 15th day of the new lunar year.

Here are some of our favorite Instagram posts so far, along with a video from the first of the two nights (February 18):

https://www.instagram.com/p/BuBq9mAHdJG/

https://www.instagram.com/p/BuBzcJ6nozS/

Video from Beijing Evening News (hosted on Tencent Video, may be slow loading outside of China):

Cover photo: Beijing Evening News

Brands and Propaganda Outlets Go Poetic for Valentine’s Day in China

Love is in the air, as Valentine’s Day starts edging its way into China. Traditionally, the Western Christian festival hasn’t received much attention in the Mainland, which has its own rich tradition of romance in the form of Qixi Festival. That’s where folks celebrate the annual reunion of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, and the true love it represents. Ok, maybe not exactly the same thing, but the sentiment is there. We even made a romantic mixtape for the occasion.

But today, the ever-passionate younger generation is being pulled into the Western-style, chocolate-and-roses-based holiday — especially in China’s top tier cities. And while Chinese authorities have begun reject the advances of certain “foreign holidays” such as Halloween, 情人节 qingrenjie (lover’s festival, as V-Day is known here) has been all over social media today, with multiple Valentine’s Day-related items reaching the trending top ten on Twitter-like platform Weibo (the hashtag “This is How I Spent Valentine’s Day” has received over 2.5 billion views).

One of the more prominent posts, unexpectedly, comes from Party-promoting paper People’s Daily, who put together a surprisingly cute collection of virtual letters, all beginning with “Not”. The nine letters, with titles such as Not Petty and Not Disappointing, point out what constitutes a true, loving relationship. At least, as defined in the eyes of the CCCP’s official newspaper outlet: “The best kind of love isn’t perfect or free of regret, but after it comes, it never leaves you.”

Perhaps even more unexpectedly, the other trending Valentine’s Day item comes to us from Disney Channel original series Wizards of Waverly Place. In a short clip, which has been posted all over Weibo today, Selena Gomez demonstrates incredible foresight and ingenuity:

“How tragic, I didn’t prepare a gift for myself this year,” reads the top comment.

“I planted a rose seed!” reads another. “At this time next year I can give it to myself.”

The lonely hearts of Weibo aren’t the only ones jumping on Valentine’s Day. As with any holiday, annual event, or date marked by a set of loosely coordinated digits, Chinese brands have been eager to get in on the action.

Jiang Xiao Bai, a baijiu liquor company, advertised a bottle that you can address to your partner personally. Because what’s classier than downing a bottle of baijiu with your lover and feeling less-than-optimal the next day?

Meizu, a phone company, takes a bit of a warmer approach. The text reads, “Leave my phone behind, it’ll be hard for a day. Leave you behind, it’ll be hard for a lifetime.”

Aww… sort of?

Qixi Festival might already be “Chinese Valentine’s Day”, but really, the more the merrier. After all, we could all use a little more love in our lives.

Kickstart This: Headache Sound is Making a Super Portable Vinyl Player

If you’ve always wanted to learn to scratch, but don’t have thousands of dollars to spend on the cumbersome rig that usually entails, Hong Kong company Headache Sound is currently raising funds to solve that problem for you.

Listing as its mission statement “when modern technology meets vintage vibe,” Headache Sound’s whole thing is to deliver the warm tones of analog gear such as tube amps and vinyl players into a small, eco-friendly package. They hit that mark with 2017’s GA1.1, a 200-watt tube amp that can fit in a backpack, and are currently about a quarter of the way towards their fundraising goal for the OMNI, a micro vinyl player aiming to bring “portablism” (portable turntablism) to a wider audience.

As Headache Sound’s nexus between music nerdery and manufacturing innovation is the kind of thing RADII eats up, with caught up with company founder Banny Ng to talk about their latest project and overall mission:

RADII: Can you first give a brief background to Headache Sound? When did you start, and how did you land on your mission of mixing modern technology and vintage vibes?

Headache Sound Electronics (HeadacheSound) is based in Hong Kong. We develop electronic audio equipment and musical instruments. We started in 2013 as a recording studio, and then we started to modify guitar amplifiers, and to repair recording studio gear. We learnt design concepts by repairing vintage microphones and vintage guitar amplifiers. In 2017, we developed our first hybrid guitar amp, GA1.1, which combines vintage vacuum tubes, a modern DSP, and class-d topography. It gives the warm tube tone that all guitar players love, while being versatile and very portable.

Your latest project is the OMNI, an ultra portable vinyl player that might also appeal to analog lovers. This seems like a niche market to me. Who are your customers, and where do they live?

The main markets for OMNI are in Europe and America. We are mainly aiming at DJs looking for true analog turntable experience. They call it “turntablism”, which is actually fading away in the digital age. We want to give anybody an affordable and easy access to turntablism, even if they are not DJs.

You also mention environmental sustainability as a company value. What steps do you take to ensure your products are environmentally friendly?

This is because we mainly use class-d amplification, which is over 90% energy efficient, compared with conventional class A/B tube amplifiers, which only have 50-60% efficiency. For example, GA1.1 has a maximum 200 watt output, but the idle power consumption is 12 watts. A conventional 100-watt tube amplifier would at least consume 50 watts of power, even if there is no audio power reproduction.

Related:

Can you talk a bit about vinyl culture in Hong Kong? Is this something you have experience with yourself?

To be honest, Hong Kong’s music scene sucks really bad. Most people listen to digital streaming, and most vinyl lovers are on the high fidelity side. Talking about scratching fans and DJs, they are hardly found in Hong Kong. We don’t have much hope in the local market.

What is the ideal customer for OMNI? Presumably people with a lot of experience in vinyl DJing and/or scratching will want a more robust product. What are the use cases you have in mind for OMNI?

“Portablism”, a new wording combining “portable” and “turntablism”, which is getting more and more popular in the DJ scene. A conventional DJ set is expensive, bulky, and can never be portable. We designed OMNI so that anybody can at least try to scratch, and play a turntable as a musical instrument. We hope to bring an easy-to-play turntable to everyone, maybe bring the turntable element to all kinds of music.

More on vinyl culture in China:

What are the major technical challenges you’ve faced in developing the OMNI? What about your other products?

The major problem we face is that it’s always hard to pack all the functions and circuits into a small package. Most portable gear lacks functionality — we don’t like that. We love to design small, portable gear with all the functions that conventional gear delivers. Another problem was we had to combine a high-voltage (typically 400V) tube circuit, into a digital circuit (typically 5V). The circuit design is always challenging.

What advantage does your location in Hong Kong yield in the development of your products? What general advantages do you think hardware startups in HK/Shenzhen have over other tech hubs around the world?

The only advantages are cheaper and shorter RnD and prototyping stages. Yes, as Hong Kong is right next to Shenzhen, I think it is also very easy for us to monitor the whole production stage, and provide better quality control.

Anything else you want to add?

As a small and ground-up company, we always lack financial support. The local government does not have any scheme to support companies like us. We are probably the only company that develops electronic musical instruments in Hong Kong. The local market is too small, so it’s always a struggle [to decide] how we should spend our very limited cash. We always hope crowdfunding could be our way to go. But because of more scam campaigns happening, the market is shrinking. And we are actually not happy, and not trusting the crowdfunding scene any longer.

Learn more about Headache Sound’s OMNI vinyl player — and kick them some loot if you’re interested — right here.

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Crazy Rich Young Asians? Chinese Netizens React to Gen Z Attitudes Report with Scorn and Despair

Confident, carefree, and crazy for luxury brands.

No, we’re not talking about the rich kids of Beverly Hills. It’s China’s Generation Z who are living it up compared to their international peers, according to a major study of global habits and attitudes by research firm OC&C Strategy Consultants.

These days, it seems like every consulting firm and business outlet is trying to dissect the habits of Chinese youth, but what do Chinese young people make of these surveys themselves? This OC&C report has caused quite a stir on China’s Twitter-like Weibo platform.

Raised in an era of rapid economic growth and digital breakthroughs, and spoiled by parents and grandparents often as only children, these teens are big spenders and even bigger dreamers, the report says. They are excited about the future and won’t let international politics or economic prospects dampen their mood.

“This is a generation that has never known worry, so they spend more and save less,” Adam Xu, a partner at OC&C based in Shanghai, told Bloomberg. “We don’t know if they’ll grow up to be successful but we do know that they are already a significant spending force that consumer brands must pivot towards.”

Defining Gen Z as those born in 1998 and after, the study involves 15,500 respondents in nine countries: China, Brazil, Turkey, Poland, Italy, France, Germany, the US and the UK. Based on almost 2,000 responses from China, youth account for 15% of their household’s spending despite not yet making money themselves. Thanks to generous allowances and hongbao (red envelopes), these consumers spent more than 50,000RMB (about 7,500USD) on luxury goods in 2017.

But we didn’t need this survey to tell us young Chinese like to spend — just look at the success of Single’s Day — or at least, look like they’re spending money.

Compare this to their US and UK counterparts, whose household spending is around 4% lower. The survey notes, “Members of this demographic grew up, or were born into, an era defined by political and economic turmoil. The financial crisis of 2007, and the 9/11 attacks that took place six years earlier, meant childhood was a time of relative hardship set against a backdrop of increasing anxiety for many Western Gen Zers, as both the ‘war on terror’ and Great Recession took hold.”

As the oldest members of China’s Gen Z prepare to hit the big 2-1 this year, many are optimistic and believe they’ll have better lives than previous generations.

So what do Chinese netizens think about this survey?

Recently, the hashtags “95-ers can really spend money” (#95后很会花钱#) and “American media’s perception of Chinese 95-ers” (#美媒眼中的中国95后#) have been trending on Weibo, the latter generating over 140 million impressions. Below are some of the comments:

“The media is right. Most of them [Gen Z] don’t come from money, but have figured out loans. Their vanity causes trouble, resulting in high consumption.”

CrWzy_ replies, “The key is that many have become ‘laolai’ [deadbeat], meaning society has to foot the bill for bad debts.”

Speaking of “deadbeats”:

Some were quick to look at the bigger picture.

“It’s because ’90s kids can’t see any hope. House, car, children. We can only spend money on things we can see. How can you not rely on parents? Even if you graduated from Tsinghua University [often seen as China’s best], there are few people who can afford a house, and they’re saving for the down payment until they’re 30, 40 years-old. Even if we bought a house or a car, children’s healthcare and education is stressful. We can’t afford to play. Thanks, the ’90s generation is done for, go find another generation.”

“Forget it, it’s because China’s wages are low and prices are high — don’t blame young people. At the beginning, it was ’80s kids who were abandoned, then ’90s kids, and now it’s ’95-ers.”

A few users were not shy about throwing shade at the US.

“A country where government departments have been shut down still has time to express its views.”

Others were salty about not being the center of attention anymore.

“What I care about is how people aren’t concerned with ’90s kids anymore — it’s all about those 95-ers and ’00s kids.”

And some were just out there to (fake) flex:

“I am now in my 20s with a lot in savings, two sports cars, two properties on Beijing’s Third Ring Road, and I travel abroad every year. I haven’t relied on my parents or friends or a sugar daddy for any of this. All of it is from my own imagination.”

Cover photo by Yiran Ding on Unsplash