Page 3 – RADII

In Exodus from TikTok, Global Hmong People Reunite on RedNote

Prior to last weekend’s frenzy surrounding the official shutdown and resurrection of netizen favorite social video platform TikTok in the U.S., many American users had fled to RedNote, aka Xiaohongshu, which claims to be “China’s answer to Instagram.”

For the first four days, Americans and Chinese engaged in nonstop fun on RedNote. They chatted about everything from “show me your proof of cat tax” to comparisons of monthly expenses, from learning Mandarin to penning heartfelt “letters to Li Hua.” The platform quickly buzzed with fishermen’s hero shots, cherished family recipes, and bicultural jokes that resonated deeply with users. Many embraced this opportunity to learn more about each other and build meaningful connections.

For Shanghai Vang, a 30-year-old American new to RedNote, her bonds were deeply tied to a shared ethnic heritage: Hmong.

“I downloaded RedNote because of the TikTok ban. I guess it was a blessing in disguise. I’ve been making new friends there since then,” Vang reflects. Driven by curiosity, one of her first posts on RedNote sought Hmong people on the Chinese social platform, and the responses were overwhelmingly welcoming. “One friend had been texting me a lot, sending me photos of the Hmong embroideries her mom and grandma made. It’s been fun.”

Hmong is an ethnic minority group native to several countries in Southeast Asia with a rich yet challenging history. After losing tribal wars in ancient China, they faced persecution and were driven from their mountain homes. By the late 18th century, the Hmong began resettling in Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, and Myanmar.

Starting in the mid-1970s, during the French colonial period in Indochina, many Hmong refugees found their home in France and French Guinea. After World War II, the U.S. government also facilitated the resettlement of Hmong refugees from Vietnam and Thailand as part of its responsibility to wartime allies.

Today, over 327,000 Hmong people reside in the United States, with significant populations in California, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. Vang’s family is among them.

During the early years of their immigration journey to the U.S., Vang’s grandmother took the liberty of naming one of her grandchildren after China’s internationally renowned metropolis, Shanghai, as she was learning English. A younger grandchild, Shanghai’s sister Yulin, was named after a southern city in China’s Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, home to many Miao people, a subgroup of the Hmong in China.

These family connections inspired Shanghai to delve deeper into her family roots. “I’m excited to know how far I can trace back my ancestry to China,” she says.

Growing up in the U.S., Vang often heard that much of Hmong history had been lost during wars. Stories were passed down orally, making it challenging to document, let alone to preserve their heritage. Raised by her grandparents, who are native Hmong speakers, Vang takes pride in her fluency in the language and in “learning all things of Hmong wisdom.”

“The Hmong used to have their own writing system, but through the course of escaping, they lost it,” explains professor Lee Pao Xiong, a Hmong historian and founding director of the Center for Hmong Studies at Concordia University in St. Paul, Minnesota.

To conceal their identities while fleeing, many Hmong refrained from speaking their language, instead encodeding their stories in embroidery. Hmong textiles often feature motifs of mountains, trees, and flowers, reflecting their natural surroundings as well as their ancestral stories.

The Hmong language, which originated in China, was traditionally transmitted by word of mouth. It wasn’t until the 1950s that writing systems were developed, including the Pahawh Hmong script, used by some Hmong groups in China and Vietnam, and the Romanized Popular Alphabet (RPA), widely adopted by Hmong communities in the U.S..

However, as younger generations increasingly prioritize English and assimilate into American culture, the Hmong language faces the risk of being lost again.

“When you lose your language, you lose your culture,” says professor Xiong, a sentiment echoed by many in the Hmong community in and outside the U.S.

“I’m Hmong, but I know very little about my ethnic group and its history,” says Chen Chen, 36, a queer Hmong art photographer from China. Chen is from Guizhou, a mountainous province in southwest China that is home to over 40 non-Han ethnic minority groups.

One of the new connections Chen made on RedNote is also a queer Hmong who lives in the U.S. Both were surprised to discover each other’s shared background.

“One day, I saw another Hmong friend I met on RedNote, driving by herself on a road in Detroit,” Chen recalls. “A warm feeling hit me instantly.” That indescribable connection, Chen explains, sparks a sense of shared humanity, transcending past experiences and national boundaries. “It also inspires me to explore more of our indigenous culture.”

Chen often draws inspiration from their heritage when working on and researching art projects. “As a Hmong, I’m not from the mountains, but I’m not Han either,” they explain.

China officially recognizes 56 ethnic groups, with the Han being the largest, accounting for over 91% of China’s population and 16% of the world’s population. The Hmong are a subgroup of the Miao, a Chinese term encompassing other groups such as Hmu, Xong, and A-Hmao. There are approximately 11 million Miao people in China.

Like many other ethnic minorities, the Miao have gradually migrated across various provinces and assimilated into Han culture, making the preservation of their traditions a pressing issue.

One such tradition is the annual San Yue San festival, held on the third day of the third month in the lunar calendar, an annual matchmaking and cultural event. It features activities like beauty pageants, bull fights, and singing contests, and is celebrated not only by the Miao but also by other ethnic groups in China, including the Zhuang, Dong, and Yao people.

Xiong Lingying, a 32-year-old Zhuang woman born and raised in Wenshan (a predominantly-minority community) reflects on how this environment gave her the freedom to explore her origins and identity.

In addition to the San Yue San festival, the Wenshan Zhuang and Miao Autonomous Prefecture in Yunnan province, near the borders with Vietnam and Laos, has preserved many other traditional Hmong customs. “Wenshan and American Hmong people had a long friendship even before RedNote went viral,” says Xiong, whose mother has been involved in cultural exchange efforts between Hmong communities in the U.S. and China. “Many Hmong Americans came here to trace their roots. In history, [when] Hmong people fled to Vietnam or Laos, Wenshan was often their last stop in China.”

Paj tawg lag, a song describing Wenshan as the last Hmong hometown in China, was engraved on a stone tablet preserved in the old town Wenshan in 2017. This effort was made possible by Elk Grove, California mayor Steve Ly, the first ethnically Hmong mayor in the U.S., along with government officials in Thailand, Laos and Yunnan province.

The University of Minnesota hosts one of the few Hmong studies programs in the U.S., and took students on an immersive language and cultural experience to Wenshan in the summer of 2019. In 2024, the Wenshan local congress made an official trip to visit California and Minnesota to deepen the Hmong connection between the two countries.

Meanwhile, in St. Paul, two schools dedicated to teaching the Hmong language and culture have merged under a new name: Txuj Ci HMong Language and Culture. The name, chosen by students and staff from both schools, is in Hmong, with the capitalization of “HMong” symbolizing the two primary dialects spoken by the Hmong people: White Hmong and Green Hmong.

The renaming was part of the Envision Saint Paul Public Schools district redesign in 2021, a broader initiative that led to the closure and merger of several schools across St. Paul.

“I was shocked that Hmong people from Minnesota speak such fluent Hmong, while we only speak a local dialect and Mandarin, ” says Xiong. “Sometimes, we even need a Hmong translator during cultural exchange events.”

Although Wenshan Radio offers four different language channels — Han, Zhuang, Miao (Hmong), and Yao — across eight counties, the local dialect she refers to is distinct from both White and Green Hmong, the two most widely spoken varieties of the language.

Luc, a 40-year-old French, Hmong-speaking RedNote user, has also noticed this difference. He’s met many interesting people through the platform, and connected with them not only through text in Hmong, but also via audio memos. “People from Yunnan’s Wenshan and the surrounding regions can speak and understand our White Hmong, while those from Guizhou are more likely to speak Green Hmong,” he explains.

To native speakers like Shanghai Vang, White and Green Hmong are essentially the same language with minor differences in accent, much like variations in spoken French or English. Despite the differences in pronunciation, Hmong speakers can still understand each other through the Romanized Popular Alphabet.

However, studying the Miao language and its variations such as Hmong, Hmu, Qo Xiong, and Lu Mien remains complex, as grammatical usage and tone can change drastically from town to town. This variability makes it difficult to standardize and preserve the language in its entirety.

After nearly a week of excitement on RedNote, American user Vang’s perspective on China has completely transformed. “I used to be very hesitant about visiting China,” she says. “Now that I’ve met so many wonderful people, I’m confident in saying I’m looking forward to visiting China soon.”

Luc has considered returning to university, and plans to study at Guiyang University in China because of their ethnic minority courses, which are lacking in French universities. He also hopes to teach his niece and nephews more about Hmong culture.

Looking ahead, despite the recent launch of a translation feature on RedNote, it’s not available to all users to translate Hmong. Nevertheless, the new connections that have been made are already a net benefit for creating a fresh dialogue about Hmong culture internationally.

“This is definitely a monumental event in the history of the U.S.-China relations,” exclaims Xiong Lingying. “No matter how long this heated relationship lasts, even if no foreigners post on RedNote after a week, I will always remember that we embraced each other virtually.”

Chinese Film “Big World” Explores Cerebral Palsy and Adolescence

Big World, a film documenting the resilience of a young man with cerebral palsy that premiered in December 2024, was an instant box office hit. It grossed over 700 million RMB ($4.5 million USD), and received the Audience Award at the 37th Tokyo International Film Festival.

Big World opens a window into the life of China’s disabled minority. It stars Jackson Yee (formerly a member of the TF Boys, who also starred in 2021’s Better Days) as Liu Chunhe, a recent high school graduate with cerebral palsy. We watch Chunhe struggle with his disability, dealing with discrimination and prejudice. The film also explores his complex and delicate family relationships, portraying a mother’s pain and sacrifice and a grandmother’s unconditional love.

In one scene, Chunhe’s grandma says, “He has cerebral palsy, [but] it doesn’t mean he’s an idiot.” This sentiment is woven through the entire movie. Despite the hardships encountered, we also follow Chunhe on a journey of self-discovery: applying for college, finding a job, writing poems, and chasing love.

In a behind-the-scenes documentary, director Yang Lina commented, “There are 80 million disabled people in China, but we seldom see them on the streets. Where have they gone? Did they make themselves invisible? Do they not want to go outside?” This explains the movie’s Chinese title, Small Me (小小的我). The film explores a group of small and unnoticed individuals in a big world.

Xiao Jia, a comedian with cerebral palsy, was invited to host Big World’s Shanghai premiere. Xiao Jia is a popular contestant from the standup comedy reality show Rock & Roast. He tells the audience, “I am one of the millions of Liu Chunhes, he gives me the courage to stand up here… Maybe Liu Chunhe’s arms and legs look wobbly, and you’re not used to seeing that. But I want to say…don’t we all go wobbling through life?”

After the movie’s release, the production team also released a short documentary following people with cerebral palsy in different professions: chefs, delivery drivers, dancers, poets, and full-time dads. The film especially resonated with people with disabilities, receiving praise for highlighting a rarely discussed side of China.

Big World also inspired people with cerebral palsy to share their stories on social media. One RedNote user posted, “Maybe you think our life is hard, but for us this is normal, this is our life… We don’t think it’s a hardship.” In other videos, RedNote users with cerebral palsy share their makeup routines, parenthood stories, cosplays, food recipes, dating vlogs, and much more.

Keep an eye out for Big World’s North American release — no release date as of now, but there’s a page for Big World on AMC’s site.

Cover image via Douban

The last female Mahjong carver in Hong Kong

In Hong Kong, it’s easy to walk past Ho Sau-Mei’s Mahjong shop without noticing it. Her store, Kam Fat Mahjong, named to signify wealth and prosperity, is a tiny alcove with a cramped attic, measuring just 1.8 meters in width and 3.6 meters in depth. In this modest space, Sau-Mei has spent over 40 years preserving the dying art of hand-carving Mahjong tiles, a popular activity for Chinese people around the world.

A complete Mahjong set consists of 144 tiles. Sau-Mei’s craft is to carve unique patterns into blank PVB blocks, a process that requires an array of specialized tools.

A 100-watt lightbox softens the glue and strengthens the paint on the tiles. Meanwhile, various carving tools are tailored to different tile types. Separate tools are needed for carving the Suozi, Baiban, and Yitong tiles, with an additional blade exclusively used for engraving characters.

Sau-Mei has even made some of her tools herself. One of her chisels, originally 8 inches long, has been worn down to just 3 inches after decades of use.

Sau-Mei using the chisel to carve following a pencil draft on the tile. Photo via CNN.

Sau-Mei began learning the craft at 13 after moving with her family to Hung Hom district and becoming an apprentice to a master. During the 1960s and 1970s, the golden era of hand-carved Mahjong, she could produce three to four sets of tiles a day but still struggled to keep up with demand. Now, the industry is nearly extinct, with only two or three hand-carving masters remaining in Hong Kong. Among them, Sau-Mei is the sole woman.

Sau-Mei with her mentor in her teenage time. Photo via Anthony Bourdain.

When asked why she inherited the family shop, Sau-Mei explained that her brothers bore the greater responsibility of being the family breadwinners. Her elder brother emigrated to New York, while her younger brother became a taxi driver. Crafting Mahjong tiles has never been a lucrative job. This is also why she is cautious about accepting apprentices. She often advises enthusiastic young people to carefully consider whether they are merely curious or genuinely committed to making this a lifelong career.

The decline of hand-carved Mahjong is largely due to the mass production of machine-made tiles, which cost only $40 USD per set — ten times cheaper than handmade ones. Additionally, the factories producing PVB blocks have relocated to the Chinese mainland to benefit from lower rents, resulting in longer wait times for raw materials.

Sau-Mei explained that most of her current customers are collectors from South Korea and the United States, who value the vintage aesthetic and cultural significance of handmade Mahjong sets. For everyday players, however, digital versions of Mahjong are becoming increasingly popular.

As Hong Kong continues its relentless pace of urban renewal, Sau-Mei’s shop has been rumored to be part of a renovation plan. She is unsure whether she’ll be able to afford the higher rent that may come. For now, all she can do is continue practicing her craft, striving to keep this intangible heritage alive for as long as possible.

Banner image via CNN.

Chinese Youth Complain About Lack of Walkable Streets

In January, a netizen shared a post complaining that there are no streets left to stroll in Guangzhou, the capital of Guangdong province. Starting with the Dong Shan Kou neighborhood, he argues that while it might often be criticized for being “too fashionable,” it remains crucial for keeping young people in the city.

Other netizens shared the same opinion based on their living experiences in other major cities in China. Mega-malls are overtaking outdoor commercial spaces across the country, making strolling through the streets a luxury.

Shopping malls have long been a pillar of commerce in China. As complexes that meet a variety of shopping needs, they are especially favored by families. Young parents find them convenient for spending weekends with both their children and parents. Typically, a shopping mall in China starts with a ground floor featuring high-end brands, including luxury goods and jewelry.

As you move up, you’ll find more affordable clothing brands for women, then for men, followed by children’s stores, educational institutions, restaurants, and entertainment areas. The underground floor typically contains cheaper stores and fast food, attracting students.

These types of shopping malls are expanding rapidly. For example, over 30 shopping malls opened in Shanghai in 2024, and there are plans to open 50 more malls in the city in 2025.

The gigantic Dream Plaza in Wuhan is a good example of the typical layout of a shopping mall in China today:

These giant commercial complexes have encroached on the space once occupied by open neighborhoods.

Beijing was one of the first cities affected by this kind of gentrification. Sanlitun, one of Beijing’s most iconic neighborhoods, was once famous for its “dirty bar street,” a gathering spot for pubs, clubs, and the nearby Workers’ Stadium, a host of large concerts and soccer matches.

Sanlitun was a vibrant part of Beijing’s nightlife, and helped facilitate an earlier wave of interaction between Chinese and expat residents of the city.

After a series of demolitions in 2018, Sanlitun’s small, backstreet stores were replaced by a massive shopping mall. Now, Sanlitun is best known as a place for street photography, capturing the latest fashion trends among upscale Beijing pedestrians. Shanghai’s Changle Road similarly lost its status as a nightlife hub after a demolition last summer.

The Yulin Back Garden community, a renovated old neighborhood in Chengdu, has gradually become a model for community-based commercial development. Photo via RedNote.

Urban planning often reflects a country’s economic priorities. As economic growth has slowed, China has seemingly shifted its focus on attracting high-income consumers, which has led to a shift toward a mall-based economy rather than open street districts.

Chengdu is another example illustrating this change. A slower pace of life has long been a defining characteristic of the city. However, applying this model to the entire country is challenging. Young people in Chengdu who once enjoyed city walking have suddenly found that the stores on their favorite walking streets have closed. Moving to the large indoor shopping malls, they realize the stores don’t differ much between cities.

Where and what can they stroll in the city? Young walkers are now lost, resorting to taking photos for social media rather than enjoying the simple pleasure of wandering through the city and soaking in the vibrant urban atmosphere.

Banner Image via RedNote

China’s Bubble Tea Chains Look Overseas

On January 13, China’s leading bubble tea company Guming Holdings Limited passed its Hong Kong IPO listing hearing. Guming became the third Chinese mainland bubble tea maker to be listed in Hong Kong, after Nayuki and ChaPanda. As of 2024, Guming has close to 10,000 locations across Asia. By the third quarter of last year, Guming saw an operating profit of 1.34 billion RMB ($183 million USD), a steady increase over the years.

Both of the other Hong Kong listed chains, Nayuki and ChaPanda, have done poorly on the exchange. ChaPanda’s stock price fell by more than 30% after opening, and Nayuki’s shares dropped roughly 80% after their debut in 2021.

Mixue store in Jinan, China. Photo via RedNote.

Mixue Ice Cream & Tea, another chain seeking a Hong Kong listing, has not been so lucky either. Guming and Mixue filed for their second attempt at a Hong Kong IPO on the same day, with Mixue still in the pending stage.

Mixue is China’s largest bubble tea chain, with a whopping 45,000 locations. They are known for fresh, made-to-order drinks and a great variety of products based on local customer preferences.

Mixue is the most affordable bubble tea chain in China, a staple for many students and working-class individuals. A regular bubble tea costs just 6 RMB (0.80 USD) at Mixue, compared to 10 RMB (1.40 USD) at ChaPanda, 11 RMB (1.50 USD) at Guming, and close to 20 RMB (2.70 USD) at Sexy Tea.

In recent years, Mixue has expanded in third-tier cities and below, with affordability as its main advantage. This consumer-friendly business model also extends to Mixue’s overseas locations in Southeast Asia.

Sexy Tea’s milk tea drinks. Photo via RedNote.

Skipping Hong Kong, Chayan Yuese (Sexy Tea) is said to prepare for a U.S. IPO, expanding beyond Asia. One major obstacle for them to overcome is cultural difference. Sexy Tea’s major selling point is the incorporation of traditional Chinese themes into every aspect of their customer experience, from store decor, to package design, to the app’s user interface. They also maintain an extensively interactive social media presence and shopping experience that will be hard to replicate abroad without understanding the cultural context.

Cover image via RedNote

Huawei and Caviar Redefine Luxury with a Smartphone Covered in 18K Gold

Chinese device maker Huawei recently collaborated with Caviar, a luxury customization brand renowned for transforming smartphones and accessories into opulent masterpieces, to introduce exclusive editions of its flagship smartphones. These bespoke devices, adorned with precious metals and intricate designs, cater to a niche market where technology meets luxury.

The flashiest model of the new line is the Huawei Mate XT Ultimate, which features a solid 18K gold body. Exclusively crafted for a wealthy, unnamed client in the United States, this exclusive device weighs approximately 1 kilogram and is priced at over $100,000 USD. The standard Huawei Mate XT Ultimate is the world’s first tri-fold smartphone, boasting a 10.2-inch display when fully unfolded. Initially released only in China, it garnered significant attention, amassing 1.3 million pre-orders within seven hours. An international release is anticipated in early 2025.

The Dragon Spring Edition from Caviar and Huawei. Image via Huawei.

In addition to the Mate XT Ultimate, Caviar has launched the Huawei Mate 70 RS and Mate X6 Dragon Spring Edition. These models draw inspiration from ancient Chinese culture, embodying themes such as the art of sword forging, the essence of a gold dragon, and the flow of the great river.

Priced at $12,200 USD, the Mate X6 Forged Dragon Edition features a black aviation titanium body with a thin black PVD coating, exuding mystery and strength. The edges are accented with a shiny golden hue, and the camera module showcases a grill-like pattern reminiscent of traditional Chinese designs.

The Mate 70 RS Huang He Edition — named after the Yellow River, the second-longest in China — symbolizes progress and innovation. Like the Mate XT Ultimate, it features an 18K gold design, though the price tag is much easier to swallow at $11,490 USD for the 512GB model. Both editions are limited to 88 units each, a number considered auspicious in Chinese culture, symbolizing luck and prosperity.

These collaborations between Huawei and Caviar signify demand for consumer products that blend technology with luxury craftsmanship.. While the standard models of these smartphones offer advanced features and innovative designs, the Caviar editions elevate them to the status of collectible art pieces.

Looking ahead to 2025, Huawei has ambitious plans to strengthen its ecosystem with the launch of its native Harmony OS, a move aimed at reducing dependency on external operating systems. The company is also investing in new manufacturing facilities to meet the growing demand for its devices. These efforts underscore Huawei’s commitment to innovation and its vision to remain a leader in the global and ultra-competitive tech landscape.

Banner image via Huawei.