The day itself fell on a Thursday, so I had dinner with my folks and grandmother. By the time we got back from the restaurant (a very disappointing Blue Ginger- I’ll be posting about my twin dinner disappointments in the next entry), we were full and tired, and I therefore had the unique privilege of eating the entirety of my own 30th birthday cake by myself over the course of the next week. This typifies my birthday experiences- somehow, although I generally welcome growing older, I usually manage to deflate the celebration itself.

Yisroel ben Eliezer was onto something when he made celebration sacred to the Hasids.  They don’t seem to have taken it to heart, though

Since then, I’ve been suspended, feet off the ground, at my folk’s place, but I’ve finally gotten back into my apartment, and I’m scrambling to get back in the swing.  Beijing was very productive for me, and Boston’s so far proved very unproductive.  I lack an office over here- in China, I had the Tube Station.  I need to find a very isolated place that serves coffee that doesn’t object to me sitting there 9-5.  Which, I suppose, means that I need to find a real office.

True Grounds, over in Ball Square, has 75% of what I need…  It’s not far enough away, I suppose.  Part of what helped me out the last two months in the Northern Capital was that I needed to actually get on my bike and ride a couple miles.  Exercise, like drawing and writing, is its own kind of thinking.

I’ve got to write about forty pages this weekend, by the way, for grad school.  So maybe I should just stop writing this stuff and get on with the work.  I’ll probably pick out a section to post on the main site soon, to give people a sense of what I’m working on.

Here’s a basic conflict I face- what should I put up on my website. I’m not a professional, like, say, Kelly Link or Cory Doctorow, two writers who’ve literally given away their works online. But I am a writer, and I’d like to get paid someday.

Here’s the catch, as I understand it. When I put a story up on the web, it is thereafter tainted in the eyes of publishers, and no longer considered for magazine distribution. But, especially considering the eccentric nature of my work (ask me about Dr. Strawberry, if you don’t already know) I could wait, literally, my entire life to get published. So do I sit on my stories, hoping they’ll get legit treatment, or do I just slap ‘em up on the web for all to see? I’m splitting the difference now, but that’s hardly a satisfying solution.

We should have such problems, eh?

In other news, I’m transitioning my stuff from this blogger site to one hosted on my own website at letterred.com. It’ll make it easier to post, and more fun for me. But not until I write my novel.

Love to all,

Will

It’s hard to see new things, but easy to have your own prejudices confirmed, and I think Miou captures something of the privation-born nastiness that I constantly encounter in Beijing. Plus, Miou has the gift for unusual detail that I really like in Chinese prose-

“If I had a choice, I would willingly become a native Hawaiian.”

I’ve just inadvertently immersed myself in a series of books concerned with ethnic identity; more than any sane man could take, honestly. Red Sorghum, Operation Shylock, the execrable The Elementary Particles, and the wonderful Enemies, A Love Story. So perhaps I’ve sensitized myself to the whole issue, an appeal to the ugliness of your own people.

Traveling the Beijing – Vermont – Cape Cod – Boston – Tokyo – Beijing circuit didn’t culture shock me as heavily as I thought it might. I think it’s cowed me a little, but made me brave in other ways. My Mandarin obviously improved a hair since I’ve been gone, but my already limited vocabulary shrunk. A contradiction, I know, but I just don’t feel as helpless as I once did. Knowing the terrain is as important as the language, I know.

Being a student again is very gratifying. Having missions is important, and doing something I’m good at, rather than something I’m bad at, is a relief. The list of skills is perhaps the next entry…

Local baozi made with cardboard and caustic soda. I’ve probably downed a couple of these…

Previously-

And here’s a Globe and Mail report on fake building materials used in the construction industry. Oy vey.

Fake plasma used in Chinese hospitals. Thanks, Alexis.

Antibiotics and antifungals found in imported fish. I’m feeling smug, now.

China promises to do better. Good luck with that.

The diethylene gylcol toothpaste shows up in the US. At the Dolla Store.

An interesting article on Chinese food safety. From the Southern Metropolis Daily, via Danwei.

Alexis mentioned in the comments that fugu was being sold as monkfish in the US.

China is executing the former head of it’s FDA and establishing a recall system.

While that friend and defender of the little guy, the Bush administration, takes China to task for food safety, Mom and Lina have been on the case, and dug up these new examples of delicious adulteration.

Toothpaste made with diethylene glycol as a thickener. Best known as windshield washer fluid, the chemical is also popular in the manufacture of wholly counterfeit medicines as well.

Contaminated traditional Chinese medicines. (Ironically, besides arsenic, cadmium, lead, strychnine and mercury, some patent medicines are being adulterated with pharmaceuticals like acetaminophen or cortisone.)

Melamine added to pet and livestock feed, as well as protein flours for human consumption, to increase its apparent protein content. The New York Times just published an expose on the subject. As an ex-carpenter, I should have recognized the adulterant. Mom pointed me to the FDA alert. Thanks, Mom.

The article mentioned some new and exciting contamination- eels battened on birth-control pills, and cuttlefish dipped in (calligraphy) ink. Looking deeper, I found this article on the People’s Daily website, which mentions fish dipped in formaldehyde and bamboo shoots treated with industrial sulfur.

I’m especially interested in the birth-control eels, if anyone can point me to some solid information on it.

Carcinogenic wax added to hotpot and to pepper oil. A lot of contamination has to do with Sudan 1. Chinese people like their food to be really red.

Human hair made into soy sauce.

Synthetic eggs (in shell).

Carcinogenic red dye in duck eggs.

“Sewer Grease” in lard.

Fake infant formula, causing a condition known as “Big Head Disease”.

Bleached Rice contaminated with aflotoxin.

In an ironic twist, it seems that Chinese farmers are being swindled with counterfeit pesticide. (I have to say that we get very nice vegetables and fruit here in Beijing, probably on account of all those banned pesticides.)

My feelings on this are mixed. Like my long-ago trip to Japan, the pain was just immense at times. Beijing is a tough city, I’ve had a tough time here, although I’m glad I ate the bugs at Wanfujing. I only wish that I was this guy. Very much the best “foreigner” blog I’ve read. He’s not especially insightful or such a beautiful writer, but he’s as open to experience as anyone I’ve read.

(His blog reminds me strongly of JR Ackerley’s Hindoo Holiday.)