For the past ten months my two large, red suitcases have been hiding behind the curtains in my room because there is nowhere else to put them. I look at them in the corner of my room and admit to myself that those suitcases have wheels- wheels that were made for rolling. I remember when I bought one of the hardback red suitcases before coming to China because I remember taking it off the shelf and testing its rolling ability. And the color: red for China. I remember my mother standing at the other end of the shopping aisle, the fluorescent lights, the shopping list I had in my hand, and I remember looking at the wheels-

- wheels that roll, stop for a while, gather dust in the corner of a dorm room in a foreign country, and then one day you look at the calendar, there are only two weeks left, and it’s time to think about letting those wheels roll again soon. The girl who bought those suitcases over ten months ago was so excited to pack them and unpack them, and the girl who is writing this can’t believe how much has filled the space in between. 

There’s a scene in the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice where Elizabeth is perched on a swing, all wound up. The ropes slowly unwind  as she watches her surroundings change with time, frame after frame. I used to remember that scene and think that maybe, after spending my senior year in Nanjing, it would feel a little bit like that by the end- that I would have been able to watch the seasons change as the ropes unwound themselves. I arrived in Nanjing on the tail end of summer with nothing but a backpack, I shuffled through crispy autumn leaves, I shivered at the bus stop in the snow, and then finally I was able to open up the windows again and let the spring breeze (and the mosquitoes) in. I sat on that swing and watched the world turn around me. Like my memories of the beginning days, it began so quickly, that unwinding- a blur, the wind, your face, blending together until now it slows down, down down down until

the swing stops for a second, and it’s almost time to stand up. 

Like a fool I thought I would just watch the change and observe, watch Nanjing and China from my perch.

Ten months have passed. I wasn’t just watching the seasons change. There are a few things people don’t tell you about doing this, and here is one of them: at some point it hit me that inevitably, I have changed, too. With the passage of time, sometimes you look around you and see the changes in your surroundings, and then you think, maybe, just maybe, this has changed me, too. I came to China to learn the language and to see the changes, to study it and observe and report back- as if I could touch and see but not be influenced myself- and I was swept up in those changes because I became a part of the surroundings, a part of the environment I live in. Detaching oneself is nearly impossible. I am a victim of China, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I remember when the biggest concern on my mind was how to say goodbye to my place and people across the ocean and, months later, the relief I felt when I knew that it was going to be okay; now, it’s about the art of going home. The difficult part is remembering how to be in a place you once called home when that place is blurry at best. That place that was once a foreign country that you were preparing to spend your senior year in? Yeah, it’s not so foreign anymore. It feels something like home, if you knew what home was. And then as soon as you decide to settle in, the place mashes you, it’s time for those wheels to roll again. 

One more thing people don’t usually tell you: that foreign country that you love? It won’t always love you back. That person who told you it’d always be fun and rainbows and adventure? They lied. If I have represented myself as a China-lover, let me be the first to admit that I do not wear rose-colored glasses and I do not love every bit of living in China, and that’s okay. I just prefer to blog about the good stuff and downplay the bad stuff. I still have days where I genuinely question what I am doing here. Like anything you grow to love, however, you realize that you can love the thing itself without loving every aspect of it, and that is how I feel about China. I can love it while simultaneously disliking parts of my life here. Most of the negative aspects of being in China all fall back on one thing: comfort. I can live comfortably in America where the air is clean, where people are not worried about food sanitation or the risk of disease like Bird Flu, where I’m fluent in the native language and in the native culture, where I have friends and family nearby.

But I look back at even the worst days and I see how everything I truly needed was provided for. I don’t know what my future holds, where I will live, where I will go- and for the past ten months I’ve played a game with myself where I ask, in every city or country I go to, “Could I live here?” People ask me all the time why I would want to live here. Besides the fact that China fascinates me, I believe that I am not necessarily called to live a safe, comfortable life, and by allowing myself to abandon the idea that I deserve or need those comforts is giving myself the opportunity to grow and learn- and sometimes that requires growing pains in a place that’s not easy to live in all of the time. So, no, I do not love every bit of living in China- but neither do I love every bit of living in America. Home is where you are. This year was a difficult year in many ways, but still I will say that China has latched onto my heart and has changed me for the better. China will always be my thing, will always be the place I pine for. The fascination and sense of fulfillment I have with being in China far outweighs any deterrence or setbacks I have encountered. I will be back. 

What has this year been to me? I keep getting this question. Some people would shy away and say they don’t know where to begin- I say, where do I end? Do you want the long version or the longer version? 

As much as I like to write, I am an analyzer at heart, a list person. I make lists, I check things off of lists, I write in my journal and make boxes and charts and want to measure things. I can try to measure this past year with numbers and figures, but the numbers only say so much. 

This year I traveled to twenty-one different cities in China, four countries and six cities in Southeast Asia (and I’ll be stopping by in one more country before I leave…), I learned thousands of new characters and too many grammar structures and have a callus on my middle finger from writing over and over and over again. Every Thursday I gave presentations in Chinese class. Oh, forget the numbers and the list- I got to live in an incredibly fast-paced country and see it change. I lived in China during a change in national leadership, during a time of record-breaking pollution, I got caught next to a Diaoyu islands protest- how awesome is it to read about international conflicts in the news and walk outside and see the impact? And there was so much more… 

But that doesn’t quite do it justice, does it? How could I tell it all? It was the stuff in between. I stood on the edge of the Gobi Desert and got sand in my eyes, I watched people share the joy of dance in Yunnan, I played in the snow at one of the most important monasteries in Qinghai Province, I climbed to the tops of mountains and ate stale sandwiches. I learned Latin Dance in Chinese and joined a yuppie gym and discovered how wonderful hot yoga is. I saw pandas in Chengdu, I ate snake meat in Vietnam, I got stranded at the Cambodia-Laos border overnight, and I let wild monkeys crawl on my head because I can.. I spent my Chinese New Year at my dear friend’s family’s house and I got adopted into a Chinese Bible study. I rode a bike around ancient ruins and next to elephants in Thailand and through a herd of cows in Laos. I discovered what my heart is really passionate about researching because if I start sweating when I talk about it, then I should probably not let that go, right? I threw a snowball at my little brother on the Great Wall of China and we walked across the frozen-over lake at the Summer Palace. I learned some things about myself along the way. I laughed more than I ever have, and cried more than I care to admit. I met my best friend. How could I ever measure all of that? 

Could I ever fully accept the fact that all of these opportunities and gifts were given to me so freely and generously? The Boren Scholarship has allowed me to not only pursue my education and dreams, but also to show me that there is so much more-

which is part of why I love it. My experience was not what I expected. It was so much more. 

In the coming weeks I will have to evaluate how I did- did I meet the goals I set for myself in the beginning? What is the end result of all of this? How do I get on the airplane? (No, really, how?!)  For now, I’m taking the time to say thank you. It’s not over yet, but my goodness, what an incredible year it has been. Two weeks. 

Kunming is home to the Yunnan Ethnic Village, an overwhelmingly large park, if you will, with twenty-six ethnic minorities represented as a sort of tourist theme park. Christian, who came along with me since he had been before, compared it to Epcot. In other words, it is “an ethnographic display of the architecture and ways of life of Yunnan’s minority population”.

As a girl who loves studying ethnic minorities, commodification of culture, and ethnic dance,

this place is my dreamland.

I tried to approach the experience as a casual observer entering the park to find out more about ethnic minorities and having an unbiased view of what I saw. Realistically, however, I am naturally prone to make note of instances of cultural commodification and am interested in the motives of creating a place like this, the authenticity of the exhibits, the marketing and appeal to consumers (tourists), and the effect on minority culture and national identity. What, exactly, do people hope to gain from this experience? How are the ethnic groups being represented, and in what light? How is the government involved? Why is ethnic culture such a phenomenon, and what does that say about Chinese national identity? 

What is it like to visit this place as a member of an ethnic group- to see your heritage displayed for tourists?

Would it be like a fishbowl? A zoo?

Needless to say, I ended up staying at this place for a very long time. So long, in fact, that Christian said goodbye and I stayed until the park almost closed. I took so many photos that make no sense unless they are in the context of portraying this idea of ethnic culture commodification. I had a field day at the Yunnan Ethnic Village.

First, a brief background on why this is important. For a nation that is typically portrayed as a homogenous country of Han people, China is actually an incredibly diverse nation with an array of different ethnicities. From the east coast’s edge of the Pacific Ocean to the Gobi Desert, China’s growing population of one billion, three hundred million people represents a variety of different nationalities; they speak different languages and dialects, occupy land that covers an enormous geographical spectrum, share borders with fourteen different nations, and have distinctive histories and characteristics including religion, customs, dress, and art.

Though the Han majority accounts for about ninety-two percent of the population, ethnic minorities make up a significant portion China’s citizenry; approximately one hundred and fourteen million Chinese citizens fall under the umbrella of the state’s fifty-five different recognized ethnic group categories, as well as the category of un-recognized ethnic groups.

When the People’s Republic of China was founded in 1949, the state began a large-scale effort to identify China’s various ethnic groups and take measures to create a “united multi-ethnic state” in which groups “enjoy equality, unity and mutual aid”. The People’s Republic of China has a long history of policies concerning minority nationalities, beginning with the Declaration of the Second National Congress in 1950 and its focus in most constitutions; over the years, the subject has even been highlighted in speeches by Mao Zedong, Zhou Enlai, and Deng Xiaoping. Minority culture has been promoted and portrayed in a way that often highlights the divide between Han and minority, whether it be intentional or indirect. There is an argument to be made that by emphasizing uniqueness of minority culture, the Han’s sense of superiority is heightened. Tourism is one aspect of this phenomenon.

My first impression was that the park was very clean, and there was a good amount of other tourists also visiting. Apart from Christian and I, I only saw one other foreigner the entire day; everyone else was Chinese. Some were by themselves, some were in tour groups, and some had brought their children along. Upon entering, there is a large map of the different “villages” which represent each of the twenty-six minority groups that are included in the park. (China has fifty-six ethnic groups, including the majority Han group, so this is a fairly large representation.)

I was also curious about the employees that make up the members of the park- if they are representing members of an ethnic group, are they indeed members of that group, or is this just a job? And does it matter?  In the Tibetan village, I asked a young man (dressed in Tibetan clothing) if he was of Tibetan descent. He said no. “What about the others?” “Only some of them are.” He then continued to try to sell me the chance to wear Tibetan clothing and take a photo. What about the people dressed in monks robes hanging around and inside of the recreated Tibetan Buddhist temple? I asked one man at the door. He was also not Tibetan, but said that he believed in Tibetan Buddhism and then promptly told me to take off my hat and enter the temple. I got the feeling that my questions were perceived as strange and did not ask at any of the other villages.

Villages included: Mosuos, Yi, Naxi, Manchurian, Hui, Pumi, Lisu, Dulong, Nu, De’ang, Hani, Jingpo, Achang, Tibetan, Dai, Shui, Buyi, Miao, Bulang, Wa, Yao, Lahu, Jinuo, Mongolian, Zhuang, and Bai

Each mini village features certain aspects of the minority group’s culture, including traditional architecture, dress, religion, food, and more. In the Tibetan village, for example, there was a recreation of a Tibetan Buddhist temple, prayer wheels, monks, and Tibetan prayer flags. In other villages one is able to walk inside of houses and look at tools, furniture, photographs, etc.Tour guides, each of them dressed in traditional minority clothing representing one group, are available for hire.

Dance

Undoubtedly, my favorite part of the park was the opportunity to watch ethnic dance performances. Several of the mini villages had dance performances throughout the day, and at 3 pm, the main stage had a big performance showcasing many different dances.

Christian was able to get us into the big dance show for free because he knows a guy at the front gate, so he just dropped a name and we were immediately allowed in, saving us quite a bit of money. He is very proud of his status in the inner circle.

The government’s involvement in minority/ethnic dance is a related topic to commodification and one that I will have to write about in a separate blog post, but it’s a topic I’ve spent quite a bit of time studying and so this opportunity to watch dance in Yunnan was like Christmas morning for me. As a former ballerina and a self-admitted nerd about dance in China and the crossroads between politics and dance, this was one of my favorite times I’ve ever had in China- but of course I’m also analyzing it like it’s my job. Included in the performance were excerpts from the dances of Yi, Dai, Lahu, Hani, and others.

Here is what I will say: I am not an expert on the authenticity of ethnic dance, partly due to the fact that authenticity is a blurry definition. I can, however, notice certain nuances of the performance that point to a greater argument made about the government’s involvement in ethnic dance, the move towards professionalization, changes to make dances more modern, implications of alterations made to dances because of the venue and context in which it is being performed, and subtle hints at the idea of “unity” of ethnic groups in China.

(Out of curiosity, in the more casual village dance shows outside of the professional performance in the theater, I surveyed eight dancers about where they had trained. All of them said they had self-trained, but the dancers I asked were not represented in the main performance on stage.)

In any case, I really enjoyed watching the dances and felt that it was a big draw to the park overall. During the main stage performance there were two screens on either side of the stage with information about the dance’s origins and the story behind it, which I found particularly helpful.

• Link to video I took of dancing at the Yunnan Ethnic Village

______________________________

I’m going to outline some of the more obvious ways in which I noticed tourism and commodification/commercialization of ethnic culture seeping into the Yunnan Ethnic Village, along with a few subtle aspects I noticed that tie into some of what I study.

• The line between religious practice and consumerism

I’ve written about this more in depth in the past, but again I saw many instances of people taking photos of themselves participating in religious practices. Follow the link to my earlier post for more on that topic.

• Selling certain aspects of a minority group’s culture 

The opportunity to dress up in traditional ethnic clothing and take a photo is available throughout the park. As an observer, I don’t quite understand the appeal, but noticed that other Chinese tourists are taking part in this experience. Perhaps it’s symbolic of participating in what is perceived as China’s history and tradition, perhaps it’s a little bit like dressing up as a princess at Disneyworld, or perhaps it’s something else altogether. This is one thing I genuinely do not understand but often see as part of tourism in China.

• Classifying ethnic groups and creating the idea of a collectible, unified set and implications for Chinese national identity and government agenda

These collectible dolls are everywhere, it seems, and are not only unique to China- I saw them in Vietnam for Vietnamese ethnic groups, as well. To me, it hints at the concept of creating a “unified” Chinese national identity. The dolls are unique but they are collected as a set, all fifty-six of them, to symbolize a completeness. From another angle, the dolls could perhaps disregard diversity of each group and instead categorize the groups just as the government does according to a set of standards it deems groups to be judged by.

• Portrayal of ethnic minorities (particularly females) as exotic

Much of the discourse on this idea of the distinction between Han and non-Han emphasizes the portrayal of ethnic minorities as exotic and primitive as opposed to the non-exotic and modernized Han majority. I noticed this recurring theme throughout the park and took this photo of some paintings available for sale in a souvenir shop. In both ethnic dance and tourism contexts, the female body has historically been portrayed as exotic and erotic. Jing Li has quite a bit of research on this, using the Dai as an example.

… Dai gender, the ‘exotic Dai women’, and sexual relations constitute an undercurrent in Han interest in Dai … Scholars have observed that, consonant with this popular portrait of Dai, Banna’s ethnic tourism has tirelessly placed ethnic female bodies at the center of encounters…

Davis’ critique on ethnic bodies as the objects of visual pleasure was also characteristically reflected in the folkloric dance shows that I observed in 2002, especially the performance of the Dai river-bathing custom. A quickly disappearing hygiene practice in subtropical Banna, it was selectively represented in the dance shows through age and gender. Young female performers used willowy moves to embody the scenes of the hair dipping or bathing in the water. Through re-enacting what was supposedly concealed, their performative bodies became the alluring exotic Other compared with the ‘normative’ bodies of tourists, the majority of whom were Han urbanites.

For more, see

Li, Jing. “The folkloric, the spectacular, and the institutionalized: touristifying ethnic minority dances on China’s southwest frontiers”. Journal of Tourism and Cultural Change 10, no. 1 (2012): 65-83.

• Selling ethnic goods as souvenirs 

The park has many, many small shops selling goods and souvenirs. Some are obviously mass-produced; some, however, are actually handmade goods. I did ask one man and woman about the goods in their store and they said they had made all of the items themselves, but from my observations, the majority of the shops were not that way.

I found one shop that was run by an NGO called One Village One Product. A brochure taped onto the window talked about their work in promoting minority handicrafts, holding workshops, improving quality standards, and preserving traditional handicrafts and selling them. I was unable to find any concrete information on the web about this NGO’s work in Kunming, but it is a Japanese NGO that began in 1979 and is also in other countries. (Off topic, but I found this piece about the difficulty of implementing it in Cambodia to be pretty interesting, especially after having traveled in Phnom Penh.)

• The question of authenticity and the influence of modernity

Another discussion is centered around determining whether or not these exhibitsare real, authentic, and an accurate reflection of the national identity of these ethnic groups. What factors are at work here, and how is authenticity affected, if at all? Is authenticity even important? I argue that it is, absolutely, particularly from a preservation standpoint; from another [not necessarily contradicting] viewpoint, others would argue that the definition of what ethnic culture is, and the accurate portrayal of that, is ever-changing and is influenced by modernization and a change of the times. Economic development, modernization, government policy, and a rise in tourism are all a part of this interconnected web. (For a case study in modernization, government, and its influence on Tibetan dance, Anna Morcum’s writing is exceptional.)

So, what does all of this mean?  

After some reflection, my personal evaluation of the Yunnan Ethnic Village is a bit mixed.

I bought a ticket to enter this place, I took photos, I participated as an audience member in performances, I asked questions, and I explored this park for about seven hours. Thus, I am a tourist, a consumer in this business of selling minority and ethnic culture- the very thing I loathe. But the experience did not leave me with an overall bad taste in my mouth (though it did sicken me a little bit).

The question becomes, then, is this business of commodifying minority culture necessarily a bad thing? In what ways?

I’m going to propose a couple of different perspectives. On one hand, I felt that the park generally showcased the different ethnic groups, presented them as unique cultures, and served as an educational, living museum- a buffet, if you will, where visitors can spend an afternoon getting a small taste of each of the twenty-six groups represented, thus giving them a broad [albeit surface-level] understanding of Yunnan’s ethnic groups. One feature of this type of park/museum is that one can gain a greater sense of awareness of a variety of different ethnic groups, all in one place; to study all of these groups and to travel all over China is a daunting task and one that not many people are willing or able to undertake. Additionally, I am willing to bet that only a small percentage of people are genuinely deeply interested in 少数民族， so for the average population, the Yunnan Ethnic Village is enough to satisfy mild curiosity. This park serves the purpose of being an all-encompassing living museum of Yunnan’s ethnic groups. The park certainly highlighted religion, dress, food, dance, and more. Does the park encroach on authenticity? Maybe. But how much of it is due to spacial limits, implications of modernization and tourism ideals, and the need to cater toward an audience? And who decides what “authentic” really is, anyway?

On the other hand, this park is the epitome of commodification of ethnic culture and perpetuates the business of selling this aspect of Chinese culture and national identity. If you are inclined to rally against this kind of phenomenon, then all of the negative nuances of the park will immediately jump out at you.

I left the park- walking past the stands, the souvenir shops, the ticket booth, the front gate- with more questions than I’d had when I came in. If I ever disappear, you might search for me in Kunming.

As I was digging through my bag after having just arrived at my hostel in Dali, an Israeli backpacker on the opposite bunk asked me where I had just come from.

“Kunming? Why Kunming? I heard there’s nothing to do there.”

Kunming was my first stop on my spring break- it’s a city I’ve wanted to go to for a long time, the capital of Yunnan province in Southwestern China, the “City of Eternal Spring”, and most importantly (to me, at least) a hotspot for ethnic minorities. Yunnan is known for its ethnic diversity and over one third of the population is of non-Han descent.

I laughed a little bit to myself when he asked me why Kunming- why Kunming?! Why not? I loved it.

I woke up very early on Friday morning, the first day of my spring break, and made my way to the airport, flew across the country to Kunming, checked into my hostel, and was struck by how hot and beautiful the weather was. The City of Eternal Spring felt a bit more like it was in summer mode. Trees were blooming in gorgeous hues of purple and I ate a late lunch at a small open-air noodle place and chugged bottles of water. I looked up from my noodles to find the owners gathered around the nearby tables, watching me curiously. They asked me so many questions and I found out that their hometown was near DuJiangYan in Sichuan, where I had been just a few weeks earlier, and near the epicenter of the 2008 earthquake. They were my first impression of the people I met in Yunnan; throughout my trip, I was pleasantly surprised with how many people were genuinely curious about what I was doing, where I had come from, and why I was speaking Chinese.

I realized that I have a flaw that doesn’t bode well for solo traveling- namely, I have no sense of direction. I’m talking about zero directional abilities here. I spend a lot of time asking directions or, if I have time, I just walk around until I find what I’m looking for. After lunch I didn’t have a particular goal in mind, but what I found was exactly what I wanted. I made my way across the street to Green Lake Park (翠湖公園) and stumbled upon many different groups of people dancing, some dressed in traditional clothing, some playing instruments, some just watching. I was overwhelmed by all of the different music clashing together, all of the people dancing, all of the different styles, both ethnic dance and contemporary (I caught myself singing along to Backstreet Boys while watching Latin Dance- whoops) and different ethnic groups sharing in this joy of dance and - I’ll pause here and say that if you know me well, you probably realize that by this point I was freaking out. Freaking out. I decided that I already loved Kunming. But there was more of that to come.

I met up with Christian, who studies in Kunming now (and basically lives my dream by being in this city- I’m so jealous), after he finally found me in the park. He showed me around, we went to the Flower and Bird Market, and then I got to meet a few of his classmates and eat dinner at a local favorite place.

(The next day, Saturday, I went to the Yunnan Ethnic Village. That experience warrants its own [long] post so I will write the details about that in an upcoming post.)

I also climbed up West Hill on Sunday, just outside of Kunming. I took a couple of buses for about an hour and hiked up to see an overview of the city. The hike is relatively short but the view is beautiful and some of the flowers were blooming. The air felt more clear, the weather was perfect, and except for a few others, I was alone. Bliss.

On the bus ride back, at one stop a bunch of rural workers carrying burlap sacks and bags of produce flooded in and I sat in the back of the un-airconditioned bus, windows rolled down, looking at the the landscape outside and listening to the ladies around me, with their weather-worn skin and straw hats, that stifling sweaty-smokey-dusty bus air filling my lungs, and I just thought that I am so lucky to have the opportunity to be sitting on a bus in this corner of the world. That is something I could not have explained to the backpacker who asked me, Why Kunming?

I love the feeling I get by being here and knowing that I live in an exciting place, a place where news is being made. Since I’ve been in Nanjing there’s been a change in leadership, the China-Japan island dispute has grown increasingly heated, record pollution levels have shocked the nation and the world, and so much more. Right now the world watches- and looks to China- as the North Korea debacle plays out. Even locally, Nanjing has been hit by the Bird Flu. But I’d like to use this post to talk a bit more about one of the issues I’m most passionate about, and perhaps one that, in my opinion, is worthy of more attention that it is given.

This week a 20-year-old mother self-immolated in Sichuan province. She is the 114th person to burn in protest of China’s rule in Tibet. Since 2008, in response to Chinese government crackdowns on religious freedom in Tibet, mothers, students, monks, widows, and many more have self-immolated not only in the Tibetan Autonomous Region but also in neighboring Gansu, Sichuan, and QInghai provinces. This interactive map highlights some of the most important recent events and illustrates the overwhelming and increasingly frequent number of self-immolations.

Although the Tibet question has been making more headlines since 2008, the conflict has been going on for decades, particularly since the People’s Republic of China invaded Tibet in 1950. Since 1959 the Dalai Lama has lived in exile in India. (Though the Chinese government seems to place blame on the Dalai Lama for self-immolations and continues to downplay the severity of the situation in Tibet, the Dalai Lama has neither endorsed nor condemned the self-immolations.) Tibet’s political status remains blurry and has become an international issue.

The Chinese government continues to (literally) fan the flames of self-immolation by increasing military build-up in Tibet, implementing new surveillance systems,  restricting Tibetan Buddhism religious practices, restricting travel in Tibet, and more. In addition to controlling religious freedom in Tibet, the government’s actions have seeped into Tibetan culture and national identity. Key elements of the Tibetan culture- language, religion, tradition, symbolism- are being eroded with the presence of more Han Chinese settling in and touring in Tibet and with the government’s development of infrastructure, education, tourism, and economy. Curriculum in schools are being revamped to teach Mandarin Chinese instead of Tibetan, for example. In an effort to “transform” Tibet,  some argue, the government has essentially transformed the very identity of Tibetans themselves.

Links of interest:

1. For a thorough account of the self-immolations, including the individual stories of the protesters, the International Campaign for Tibet has an excellent report called Storm in the Grasslands. (Shout-out to Christian for recommending it to me a few months ago!)
   
2. Peter Hessler, one of my favorite writers on China, explains Tibet Through China’s Eyes
   
3. Fascinating photos of Tibet during the Cultural Revolution, by Foreign Policy
   
4. This is more specific to my own obsession with dance + politics, but Anna Morcum writes extensively about Tibetan dance and the influence of government on this important part of Tibetan culture. Modernity, Power, and the Reconstruction of Dance in Post-1950s Tibet is my favorite piece of literature on the crossroads between politics and dance, and paints a picture of how dance is one aspect of Tibetan culture and identity that is being transformed by government. 

Last semester I posted “A Picture in One Thousand Words”, which was a short introduction to commodification of minority/ethnic culture in China. This semester I had the same assignment and I chose a photo of a Tibetan temple I visited, in order to introduce some of the basics of the current issues between the Chinese government and Tibetan Buddhism. This time I chose to write it and present it in Mandarin instead. So, here goes nothing. I don’t claim to be able to express myself in Mandarin as well as I would like to, and I certainly don’t do the topic justice in just over one thousand characters or with my level of Mandarin, but I wanted to share nonetheless. I can’t even do the topic justice in English and I certainly can’t do it justice by blogging, but it’s something that makes me tick.

藏传佛教与中国政府

这张照片表现了一座藏传佛教寺庙。我今年四月在峨眉山拍了这张照片。峨眉山位于四川，有七十多佛教寺庙。因为目前中国政府与藏传佛教有一些冲突所以我选了这张照片为代表他们之间的关系。2008年到现在，在藏传佛教和藏族的文化方面，中国共产党干涉得越来越多。藏族人觉得中国共产党无权控制藏传佛教。不过为了维持自己的利益而免得藏族人生事，中国共产党采用一些政策为了抑制宗教自由。邓小平的改革开放以后，中国政府在大陆采取了新政策为了改革经济和社会。虽然别的省份享受更多宗教自由，但是西藏还是非常中央集权的。但是，政府反而限制了西藏的自由。

文化大革命期间，中国政府关于西藏的管理是最严厉的，像毁坏了藏传佛教寺庙。虽然现在的情况不至于像文化大革命，但是还是很严重。目前政府不会允许和尚在藏传佛教寺庙有达赖喇嘛的照片，并限制和尚到西藏外面旅行。中国政府限制人们在西藏旅行、贸易、外国记者采访、等等。最近，政府创造了一个新的监视系统为了监视以前的囚犯、和尚、尼姑和抗议者。

藏传佛教与藏族文化息息相关，结果目前的政策和情况肯定影响藏族人的文化、国家认同、和日常生活。除了影响宗教以外，发展西藏是中国政府的主要目标之一。有人赞成中国政府在西藏修马路、发展新的建筑和改革教育。这些发展的活动看起来值得赞成，肯定对西藏的生活环境有好处。不过，换一个角度来看，在发展西藏中，西藏的国家认同渐渐地淡化了。在西藏的首都拉萨，传统的建筑一年比一年少,拉萨却好像很现代化。以前，学校用藏语；现在更多学校被逼用汉语教学生。此外，现在许多很重要的建筑和风景成为了旅游景点。

为什么这样的情况正在发生？根据Karmel的研究，五个主要的因素使中国共产党采取这些新的措施。首先是有史以来，目前的情况显示藏族抗议得最多。和以前相比，现在藏族的抗议越来越激化。其次，在国际关系方面，越来越多的国家关心这个议题，而批评中国管理的角度和办法。再说美国跟别的国家赞成西藏流亡政府。第三是中国的国家发展计划给西藏带来了更多控制，特别是西藏的经济。第四是两个观念：民族主义的和民族优越感。 最后是共产主义思想的影响，特别在西藏传统的文化与权威的象征方面。

除了西藏自治区以外，所谓“西藏”和藏族还存在西藏的附近，比如甘肃、四川、云南和青海。因此在这些地区，为了抗议中国政府的干涉，一百多个藏族人民自焚了。根据新闻的说法，好像越来越多的藏族自焚事件在日渐发生。

总之，由于中国共产党的政策、行动和限制，从宗教到文化，藏族人的生活持续改变。只要政府不允许更多宗教自由，就会刺激更多抗议和藏族人不满的态度。这张照片不但表达一个当前中国的冲突，而且表达中国与西藏的历史背景和持久冲突。

*Special thanks to my tutor who patiently reads my stuff and helps me edit it!