More news that might go against everything you thought you knew about the Chinese: not all Chinese are 5 feet 3 inches tall on their tippy toes. Yao Ming is Beijing ren (folk) and he is in the company of giants. Northern China was repeatedly invaded by the the Mongols in the North. The Mongols were some tall-ass, fierce, horse-riding raiders that rendered the Great Wall the greatest defensive joke in the history of mankind. (Note to self: you could get jailed/killed for writing negative words about The People's Wall.) Over time the Mongols, you know, "mingled" with the Han Chinese and presto, my own 5 foot 9 stature is blaise.
After traveling to Hong Kong and the southernmost island of Hainan, I can tell you that the Beijingers don't have the monopoly on tall. Chinese everywhere are getting taller; nature naturally selects for the tall gene. The size difference between generations here is startling. The Mao generation as I call them--anyone over the age of 50, and especially those in their seventies and older are so tiny they sometimes seem like sweet dolls. You want to give them a hug for having endured hardship for so long, but don't be fooled by little grannie: she's a tiger backed up to a cliff holding eight cubs by their scruff. She will beat you with her purse to get on the bus; she will push you right off a curb rather than go around; she will steal a balloon from your child and give it to her own grandchild. (All three examples are true stories.)
Gen Y and Z and whatever the hell those really young people running around are called have deeper pockets and fuller plates, and the Chinese diet has changed tremendously in the past 5 years. Five times more meat is consumed per capita today than in 2007. Milk and yogurt are marketed as heavily as the iPhone. Based on my own count, there are more brands of yogurt in China than in America.
So back to the topic of dogs. The good news is that our fiesty little dachshund Ruby is not in danger of being eaten in Beijing. Ducks, bunnies and pot-belly pigs are all fair game, but dog is not on our neighbor's menu.
Having Ruby here with us has certainly colored our Chinese experience. I've found you can learn a lot about people through your dog. I think back to one of our neighbors in Seattle who does not know my name or my children's names. She never even looked at me, but would have lengthy conversations with Ruby, petting and plying her with treats.
Dog culture is new in China. Dogs themselves are obviously not new to the region. According to the Chinese, everything originates from China, dogs being no exception. I'm talking about a pampered pooch culture where the family dog is just that: family. An often over-the-top animal worship (uh, health care plans for your guinea pig anyone?) you only find in America and Europe.
Within the last 5 years, the very rich and mostly single Chinese crowd have begun adopting the pet-as-family modus operandi. In this socioeconomic division, dogs are a form of personal expression as well as a four-legged fashion show. I see dogs wearing everything from designer jeans (with poop flaps) to shoes. In warmer weather the shoes come off to reveal painted dogie toe nails. There are a surprising number of stores dedicated to dog fashion. I am told that in Shanghai people parade their pooches in special strollers to avoid dirty paws. What's the point of giving your dog a walk?
Outside of this affluent bubble, the Chinese mostly dislike or distrust dogs, perhaps viewing them as competition for food and disease carriers. Nobody seems to mind that they are terrific organic-waste generators. Nobody scoops poop, excepting myself and the maybe five other Americans here. Dog poop is fine, dogs are not. Most Chinese are terrified of dogs, even Ruby--especially Ruby, our 8-pound, yap-tastic diva.
The Chinese in our building will not get on the elevator if I have Ruby with me. We live on the 28th floor and she has a tiny bladder--that's a lot of lonely elevator rides. Sometimes I can cajole my Park Ave neighbors into the lift by re-assuring them Ruby is hen hao (very good) and she doesn't bite. Other times the elevator doors close and I descend alone, still feeling the glare of angry eyes.
Stink eye is the least of my woes; multiple children have kicked Ruby. (In America, kids swarm her with love and I have trouble freeing her up for a walk!) I've had Chinese parents/grandsparents shout at me for letting Ruby near their child, even though she is on a leash and usually wagging her tail. I've had two delivery personnel refuse to come near our door because I was holding Ruby. I even had to cage Ruby before our utilities key-card recharger (yes, that is actually a job in China. We pay someone to insert a card into our meters when we run out of utilities) would enter the house. She was crying and shaking in fear while I'm thinking: "How do you survive a door-to-door job? I KNOW I am not the only one in these buildings with a dog, but please sack-up and recharge my fucking meter because I have no water! "
SHE'S 8 POUNDS FOR CHRISSAKE! WHAT COULD SHE POSSIBLY DO TO YOU THAT THE POLLUTED AIR, TOXIC FOOD AND THE DANGEROUS ROADS WON'T?" Oh, but there is more. My gracious neighbor, Melanie, took care of Ruby while we were in Myanmar. Once Ruby ran out her front door and began barking at another neighbor. It was a bad scene. Lots of screams. Ruby was whisked back inside and poor Melanie had to spend time performing on-the-fly PTSD therapy. The neighbor wanted to know "why Ruby hates humans." Melanie had to explain that Ruby does not hate humans and that she was a nice dog who was simply doing her job of defending the house.
I think their negative reaction is amplified by Ruby's, um, vocality. Those who know Ruby know she is 8 pounds of solid vocal chord, though she reserves her barking mostly for cats, birds, squirrels and sometimes other dogs. She loves people and she loves children. She'll bark at unknown men when she is around children as a way of protecting the children. She's sweet as can be. She might be barking, but usually her tail is wagging so hard she barely walk. Chinese dogs, on the other hand, don't bark. I let you ponder this. They are also incredibly street smart. Reminds me of Chinese children: they don't seem to cry much and they play in/next to busy streets, but I'm digressing again. I can come up with a few possible reasons why dogs are mum. It's so strange to me to not hear dogs. That's kind of the point of a dog, to bark. Warn their masters of danger, intruders or alert them to prey.
It's not just Senorita Yapcita who incurrs the wrath of the ren. There seems to be an anti-dog movement fomenting all over the People's Republic. Our apartment complex recently posted signs "outlawing" large and vicious dogs. The irony was that Park Avenue management mailed letters and printed signs with a Golden Retriever posing as the large viscous dog. I read in China Daily that many cities are outlawing dogs over 20 pounds. The data did not cite an uptick in dog bites or attacks or any reasoning for the new laws. Probably just some bored cadre with a bone to pick. The biggest shock to me was that the people in defacto violation of the new dog laws who were interviewed gracefully agreed to move or give up their dogs. I can't see that happening in America.
Alas, Ruby will not be a gateway to true and lasting friendships with the Chinese people. (Nor will my screaming at taxi drivers.) But she's a true Sheppard, our no-nonsense, don't mess with my territory, can-do American dog. And we love her.
