Kyoto Prize,The Japan Prize (日本国際賞) , Praemium_Imperiale
我知道日本起碼有三大獎 國際馳名現在以隨意順序介紹
中国人很有礼貌,轻声细语,总是面带微笑。
特里尔大学的汉学教授卜松山(Prof. Karl-Heinz Pohl)说"在为人处事方面(中国人)有很明确的礼节规矩,但是到了火车站候车广场,规矩就不灵了。"在中国的大街上,到处还有人随地吐痰,拥挤时推推 搡搡,不太雅观地在大街上吃午餐。在正式的宴请时,中国人对外国客人十分热情有礼,但是啃干净的骨头还是吐在盘子边的桌布上。
Bildunterschrift: Großansicht des Bildes mit der Bildunterschrift: 艺术家眼中的中国人
中国人轻声细语?现实正好相反。柏林大学的汉学家达严思(Jens Damm)说,中国人的嗓门比西方人想像得大得多。中国人对说话的分贝值宽容度要大得多。奥运会前夕,人们不但要学"怎样规规矩矩地排队",还要学会"轻 声讲话"。龙的传人也不是总在微笑,到中国去的游客踏上中国的土地就基本能够体会地到。
中国人热爱米饭,而且无所不吃,四条腿的除了板凳桌椅之外啥都吃。
卜松山教授介绍到,北方人爱吃面条馒头,南方人爱吃米饭。至于肉食方面,中国人主要还是吃普通的鸡鸭鱼肉。但是南方人大胆敢吃,什么能吃的都上了餐桌,常常令欧洲人做惊恐状。例如油炸蚂蚱和烤狗肉。
中国人不会发R的卷舌音。
卜松山教授说,汉语里没有R的卷舌音,但这只需要练习就可以发音。达严思也强调,中国人中有人会发非常标准漂亮的R卷舌音。中国人把R的音都发成L,达严思认为这是谣传。
汉语是门很难学的语言
卜松山教授说,汉语其实不难,至少语法简单,没有复杂的词尾变化和变格。但是很多外国人学汉语的时候对四声音调难以掌握到位,"妈妈骂马"就是经典练习,说不好的话意思都拧了。汉语中有5万个汉字,读书看报需要掌握1500-3000个汉字。
所有的中国人都长地差不多,个子矮小,黄皮肤。
在不染发的情况下,大多数中国人都是黑发,眼睛深色。中国人的个子并不小,看看中国的篮球运动员就知道了。北方人个子比南方人高。而且,卜松山教授 说,中国人的皮肤也不是那么黄,和欧洲的情况相似,北方人的皮肤比南方人白。不过,中国人自认为是黄色人种,并以黄帝的后代为骄傲。
儒家思想"非常中国"
到底什么是"非常中国"的呢?专家认为儒家思想中的家庭观念是最典型的。达严思说,尊重长辈、维系家庭直到今天在中国还是很普遍。但随着现代化的发展,养老院也成为老人的归宿。
中 国邀请方为前来走访西藏地区的德国欧洲议会议员埃尔玛-布罗克和卡尔斯腾-霍鹏施戴特安排了2天满满的日程:参观现代化的工厂基地,走访中小学校等,为的 是给来自欧洲的客人留下深刻的积极印象。布罗克是德国基民盟党的政治家,在欧洲议会主要负责外交事务。布罗克承认中国政府对西藏进行了巨大的经济投资,但 是表示:“中国政府显然还没有弄清楚一个事实,就是要想赢得人心,光靠投资是买不来的。一个人的身份与所属不是别人给的,而是受自己心灵的指点。出于这个 原因,即使出再多的钱,中国政府还没有能赢得西藏人的心。”
比如中国政府向西藏的学校进行了大量投资,然而布罗克认为:“中国政府规定,西藏学校里的汉人不用学藏文,但是占学生人数90%的藏族学生每天却必须学习汉语。这会导致汉藏学生之间产生小摩擦,而这些小摩擦以后也许会演变成就像314一样的政治骚乱。”
在 藏族学生每天苦学汉语的时候,汉族学生可以提前放学。欧洲议会议员布罗克认为,这就是中国政府通过普及汉语,从而使汉族文化以及汉人在西藏占据主导地位。 西藏人要想找到工作,或是处理日常的一些事务,都必须讲汉语。而藏文却逐渐成了西藏人在家里说的语言。这样的语言延续和发展的机会就很小。
布 罗克和霍鹏施戴特利用晚上的时间自己到街上去走走看看,他们发现,拉萨市中心到了晚上会被戒严。即使是白天,今天的拉萨也同一年前有很大变化,特别是布达 拉宫。欧洲议会议员,来自德国下萨克森州的霍鹏施戴特介绍说:“很令人遗憾的是,现在许多喇嘛都被赶出了寺院。代替喇嘛的却是大批中国警察,或是便衣。也 就是说,布达拉宫的佛教灵魂被完全破坏了。我希望,这些警察能尽快撤离,还布达拉宫昔日的平静。”
北 京政府始终坚持,314西藏骚乱是受"达赖集团"幕后指使,最终企图破坏08奥运会的顺利召开。欧洲议会议员布罗克和霍滕施戴特利用此次中国之行,希望能 说服北京政府同达赖喇嘛直接对话,然而布罗克明显感到北京方面的固执:“中国政府坚持认为,达赖喇嘛的最终目的是西藏独立,破坏中国领土完整。为达到此目 的,达赖喇嘛篡动一小部分激进分子进行破坏活动。”
德国之声
7月24日は土用の丑の日。この日といえばうなぎを食べる習慣があるわけだが、土用の丑の日を前に18日には、東京・赤坂にて台湾産うなぎに関する 記者説明会が行われた。うなぎの産地偽装問題や原産地表示違反の影響で、うなぎに対する消費者の信頼感が揺らいでいる中での開催とあって、品質面や安全性 のPRに重点を置いた内容となっていた。
開催者は、台湾鰻魚発展基金会や台湾鰻蝦生産合作者聯合社、台湾冷凍水産工業同業公会、台湾鰻蝦輸出業同業公会、日本鰻輸入組合。説明会では台湾産の活うなぎも実際に用意され、水槽の中で元気に泳ぎ回るうなぎの様子が記者たちの目を釘付けにした。
説明会では台湾のうなぎ業界関係者が次々と日本語で挨拶。中でも台湾鰻魚発展基金会・薫事長の郭瓊英さんは、「台湾産ウナギは40年以上もの間、日 本のみなさんに食されてきました。最盛期には、日本のうなぎ市場の70%を台湾産が占めていました」とその長い歴史をPR。さらに安全面の話では、「ト レーサビリティ制度の実施に向けて動いており、うなぎを1匹ずつ検査して、輸出許可が下りたものだけを日本に輸出しています」と話した。
台湾鰻魚発展基金会・薫事長の郭瓊英さん。説明会の最後には、素手でウナギを掴んで記者団に笑ってみせた |
台湾鰻蝦生産合作者聯合社・総経理の徐崇仁さんは、「うなぎが養殖されている台湾南部は、亜熱帯気候で陽光に恵まれた土地です。うなぎ養殖に適した 環境で、通常の10倍以上の水量の大きな露地池で、1年~1年半かけてゆっくりと育てているのが特徴です」と、放養密度が低いことなどを強調した。
養殖段階での薬物使用は極力避け、日本が禁止している薬を使ったかどうかは、生産履歴の証明書に明記されているので、輸出合格書が発行されない仕組みになっていることも説明。薬物残留検査についても詳しく解説した。
一方、日本鰻輸入組合は、輸入した台湾産うなぎを日本でも再度検査し、合格したものだけを市場に出回らせるというルールを敷いており、そもそも台湾 産うなぎの違反率は非常に低いことを説明した。同組合副理事長の稲垣信起さんは、「台湾産のうなぎはハウスで養殖されるのではなく、露地の池で養殖されて います。エサも1日に何度も与えて早く成長させるのではなく、1日1回のみ。自然に近い環境で育てているのが特徴です」とコメントした。
最後には参加した記者に、試食用としてうな重が配られた。台湾産うなぎを都内のうなぎ料理店で焼き上げたのだという。試食してみると、ふんわりとや わらかな食感で、適度に脂が乗っている。「台湾産うなぎ」がブランドとして確立される日もそう遠くないかもしれない、と感じる説明会だった。
By Geoff Dyer
Published: July 20 2008 18:43 | Last updated: July 20 2008 18:43
Lu Guanfeng moved his family to the Shanghai suburbs five years ago for the peace and quiet. He bought an apartment in a gated community called Green Garden New World, which features a gazebo on the private lawns.
Since the start of the year, however, his little patch of suburbia has been anything but quiet. Instead, the residents have been developing a new taste – for political activism. In January, they organised large protests against plans to build a high-speed magnetic levitation train line near their flats. Four months later, when an earthquake devastated part of Sichuan province, the area was again energised with private charity campaigns and volunteer work.
China Beyond the Games
Audio slideshow: Suburban rebellion
This is the first part of an FT series on China in the lead up to the Olympics in August. For other parts of the series click here
Mr Lu, an internet entrepreneur in his 40s, was involved in the anti-maglev protests and later went to Sichuan to help after the earthquake. “We are trying to get the government to listen more to public opinion,” he says.
Welcome to suburban China, the new fault line in the country’s one-party rule. Places such as Green Garden New World will play an important role in determining which political direction China takes over the next couple of decades. The Communist party shows no sign of retreating from its dominant position in politics but it faces challenges on a series of fronts from a society that is becoming more complex, educated and assertive.
The biggest potential threat to the party comes from the educated urban middle class. Although there are daily protests by poor farmers who claim their land has been stolen or poisoned by a nearby factory, rural protests tend to be isolated and local police are often not afraid to crack heads, far away from probing eyes. A restive middle class in the country’s international cities is a different matter. If company executives, lawyers and university professors start challenging the political status quo, the party’s hold will become much less secure.
China’s leaders are well aware that during the transition to democracy in South Korea and Taiwan – or indeed more than a century earlier in western Europe and the US – the urban middle class played a pivotal role. There is a vigorous debate in elite circles in Beijing about transparency in government, media freedom and legal due process: just how quickly the party embraces such changes will depend to a large degree on how much pressure it faces from the new suburbs.
“The government is starting to be challenged by new social groups, which are growing rapidly and want to be heard,” says Jeffrey Wasserstrom, a China expert at the University of California, Irvine. “Even people who support a lot of things the government is doing can change their view if they do not feel they are being listened to.”
The one thing China throws up quicker than factories is new suburbs. Mr Lu lives in an unusually prosperous one called Xinzhuang at the end of the first metro line in Shanghai. In the decade or so since the metro opened, the area has experienced rapid social and economic change. With the metro line came some of the first apartment buildings constructed for private ownership.
Professional families from the inner city who had just bought their first car were attracted to the gated communities. Rising incomes also brought many of the other trappings of middle-class life. At the new Friendship Shopping, the first high-end mall in a Chinese suburb, residents of Xinzhuang can choose a shirt at Brooks Brothers, purchase a Rolex watch or sip lattes at Costa Coffee.
Xinzhuang’s political awakening began in January when the local government released plans on an obscure website to extend the city’s maglev train line through part of the neighbourhood. Shanghai has the world’s only commercial maglev line. Planners want to bring the line, which runs from the international airport to a distant suburb at a speed of 430km/h, across the city to the domestic airport. The scheme caused outrage among residents near the planned route, who feared noise and potential pollution. Internet petitions were circulated and large posters appeared on the side of buildings with slogans such as “No to Maglev Cancer Rail”.
On a Saturday afternoon in January, thousands thronged Shanghai’s People’s Square in front of city hall to protest against the plans. Given that demonstrations are in effect barred, the residents described it as a sanbu or “walk” – they had all just happened to turn up in the square at the same time. Another group went for a spontaneous “shop” on the city’s main retail streets, shouting anti-maglev slogans.
This polite but firm suburban rebellion – which was one of the largest urban protests in recent years and was caught on camera by international media – had the intended impact. A few weeks later, the mayor of Shanghai announced that the project had been delayed by at least a year while more discussions were held with locals.
It was not the first time that residents of suburban Shanghai had opposed the maglev plans: the original route was changed after a series of protests in spring last year outside government buildings. But this time their protests were more audacious, using text messaging and YouTube to spread word about new events. The sanbu strategy appeared to have been copied from a similar protest last year in the southern city of Xiamen, which halted construction of a chemicals plant.
Both the Shanghai maglev and Xiamen protests have come to be considered milestones in Chinese politics – powerful examples of pressure from the suburban middle class for a more transparent and accountable system of government. “The Communist party has guaranteed that citizens have the right to express ideas through legal means,” says Mr Lu, sitting in a living room that displays his daughters’ pictures of Minnie Mouse as well as a statue of Confucius. “We are not opponents of the government but we are exposing some problems of government behaviour.”
If the maglev protests showed a nascent political assertiveness among the Xinzhuang middle class, then the massive Sichuan earthquake in May brought out a different form of political participation. Mistrustful of official charities, Mr Lu raised money on the internet to buy water filters, which he took to Sichuan. Joe Liang, who works for a private equity company, jumped on a flight two days after the earthquake to go to Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province. “I have a happy family and a good job with a decent salary,” he explains. “But I also had this feeling that I would like to do something for others in our society. So when a friend in Chengdu asked me to help out after the earthquake, I did not hesitate.”
Without medical training or other skills to offer the relief effort, he remained in the city doing administrative work. “It was actually really tedious, but when I got back lots of friends and colleagues were very interested and wanted me to put them in touch with contacts in Sichuan for volunteer work,” he says.
According to the government, more than 200,000 people travelled to Sichuan to lend a hand with the relief effort. At Friendship Shopping, there were long lines of people queuing to give blood for injured people in Sichuan.
The response to the earthquake has prompted a vigorous debate both at home and abroad about whether it has opened new room for civil society in China. In the days immediately afterwards, there appeared to be unusual openness for journalists and charities to operate. In the weeks since, however, the government has clamped down and imposed its control on activities.
Yet whatever the impact, the tens of thousands of people who dropped everything to lend a hand were demonstrating a desire to be more involved in the life of the country. Along with the maglev protests, they indicate a growing desire among middle-class citizens to be heard in new ways. “Chinese society is becoming more robust, diverse, interested and capable,” wrote George Gilboy, a senior fellow at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, in a recent paper.
The notion that the Chinese middle class is becoming more politically active is a deeply seductive one for western observers. It plays into one of the most powerful ideas of the age: that capitalism will inevitably bring democracy. It underscores a lot of western diplomatic and commercial engagement with China – why harp on about human rights, some diplomats ask, if the country is moving in that direction anyway? It also implies that, in an important way, China is becoming like the west.
Yet there are plenty of reasons to be wary. Even among China-watchers who think a confident middle class will eventually push for a more liberal political system, many argue that it will be only a slow and gradual process.
One important reason for this is that the middle class is still relatively small. Around 800m Chinese live in rural areas, where most struggle to make ends meet through farming. In the cities, a large percentage of people now own their homes but this is a deceptive indicator of wealth because many bought property at cut-rate prices during government privatisations. Car ownership, another indicator of middle-class status, is growing rapidly but from a very low base: the proportion of Chinese who own a vehicle is still only around 3 per cent.
The small size of the middle class also begets a political conservatism. To live in the wealthy suburbs of a city such as Shanghai is to enjoy social privileges in terms of education and healthcare; many middle-class Chinese lean towards the political status quo because they suspect that a democracy would have to spread those resources more thinly across the country.
According to David Goodman, a China expert at the University of Technology in Sydney, China’s middle class has much stronger ties to the state than was the case in most of western Europe or in most Asian countries that have become democracies. As a result, it is less likely to challenge the party-state.
This is particularly true, he argues, of the new generation of private entrepreneurs. Many private companies began as offshoots of local government departments or state-owned enterprises. Even today, business people who wish to build national operations need to cultivate strong political connections around the country. In one recent list of China’s richest people, one-third were members of the Communist party.
“A lot of the new wealth has come out of the party-state through semi-privatisations or it has been absorbed by the party-state,” says Prof Goodman. “Given a free hand, some of these people might go off and form political parties, but they will not do so while the party-state is in place.”
The party has gone to great lengths to win the loyalty of professionals. At the time of the Tiananmen protests in 1989, many members of the educated middle class were outraged at their low salaries. In the intervening years, people such as university teachers have been given regular and in some cases large pay increases.
Among ambitious students, party membership is an attractive asset because of the connections it brings. One professor at a leading Beijing university says that although his very best students turn up their nose at the idea, many others are eager to join the party because they believe it will boost their job prospects.
Such favourable attitudes to the Chinese party-state were present in the other episode of political activism that stirred Xinzhuang this year – when this time the protesters were defending the good name of the government. In the aftermath of the March unrest in Tibet and chaos surrounding the Olympics torch relay in London and Paris, many were outraged at what they saw as attempts to humiliate China in its Olympics year.
After internet users began to call for a boycott of French goods, large demonstrations were held at several Carrefour supermarkets. At the Carrefour next to Friendship Shopping in Xinzhuang, teenagers milled outside with T-shirts saying “Tibet WAS, IS and ALWAYS will be part of China”. A middle class insecure about its own status identified closely with the overseas prestige of China.
Protesting against the government also brings huge risks. Several of the anti-maglev campaigners say they were threatened with arrest or other punishments if they caused too much trouble. A suspicious Mr Lu has a camera in the corner of his living room to record all meetings, either with journalists or officials. He cites a Chinese saying to explain the reluctance of people to become campaign leaders: “The shot hits the bird that pokes its head out first.”
For all the symbolism of the anti-maglev campaign, therefore, some observers believe middle-class China is prepared to challenge the authorities only when its immediate interests are threatened – and that recent events fall short of a challenge to the system.
“The outpouring of human compassion after the earthquake is real but the Chinese middle class needs fires in its own backyard to get politically agitated – witness the protests in Shanghai and Xiamen,” says Chen Jie, an academic at the University of Western Australia. “Overall, the Chinese middle class is not very mature.”
Additional reporting by Yang Jie
Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008