月饼和越剧 (Mooncakes and Yueju Opera)

大家，你好！

Well, it's been a pretty busy week and I feel like there's a bit I could relay. Sometime soon, I'll have to dedicate an entire post *just* to food. But since I'll want to do that justice, I'll hold off for now.

For starters, this Wednesday was 中秋节 Zhōngqiūjié, or the Mid-Autumn festival. What does this mean? Well, to sum up, it means no class, mooncakes, and moon-gazing. "They have cake in China," you ask? Well, sort of. They're small, round, and incredibly dense. What you'll find most often in the U.S. are mooncakes with red bean paste, but here they come in all imaginable forms of sweet and savory under the moon (sorry, sorry... I couldn't resist). One of the contacts I made while applying for Fulbright kindly gifted me some. I pulled one of the last ones out tonight in order to photograph/consume it, but was in for a nasty surprise (literally). Unlike the first one I had that was taro, this one was 海苔 háităi, a.k.a nori, or seaweed. It was slightly sweet, but still had a salty, fishy flavor. Nyum nyum...

These are some pretty fancy-looking mooncakes

Mmm... nothing like a seaweed cake. It looks strikingly like the algae that attacked the beaches in Qingdao in 2008. Smells like it, too.

The highlight of my holiday was actually making 饺子 jiăozi (dumplings) with the other students and roommates. The filling consisted of pork, diced tofu, scallions, salt, and something that was most-likely MSG. We didn't make our own dough, since apparently most people here just buy it. I am, however, determined to make it from scratch before I leave. 

The jiaozi I "包-ed," (folded).

Clearly, this is my calling. I should come back to the States and open a dumpling-stand outside of the Met.

Otherwise, this Friday we had a program-sponsored trip to 雷峰塔 Leifeng Pagoda on West Lake (there's an earlier picture of it lit up at night.) It was our first really nice day of weather, and was cool and clear out. The views from the top were amazing. I'll attach some photos below:

View of the Su Causeway and West Lake's islands

West Lake with Hangzhou in the distance

This Saturday, I went to an afternoon showcase of 越剧 Yuèjù with my teacher, which is the local opera of Zhejiang Province. It's the second-most widespread opera in China after 京剧 Jīngjù, or Beijing (Peking) Opera. It has a very recent history; it cropped up in the 19th century, and assembled different elements of other operatic traditions. It really does look and sound a lot different than Beijing Opera. Below I'll sum up some of the defining characteristics of each type. (Disclaimer: I am NO expert on Chinese opera, these are just some thing's I've picked up thus far.)

Beijing opera:

• Traditionally only had male performers
• Focuses on historical/war themes
• Includes a lot of martial arts and acrobatics
• Has very specific and symbolic face paint
• Musical accompaniment includes drums, symbols, and some string instruments 
• Overall musical quality is extremely strident; performers speak and sing in falsetto voices

Yueju:

• Originally only had male performers, but they were gradually replaced in the 1930s-40s with all-female troupes. Now, it seems as though women still dominate the stage, and some women specifically play male roles
• Predominantly "love-themes"
• Does not feature martial arts/acrobatics/symbolic face paint
• The musical style is harmonious and graceful

As a lover of Western opera, I really enjoy Yueju since it's much easier to listen to. Perhaps what I find most fascinating about Chinese opera is its use of movement. Since Chinese sets are very minimalist, the art form has developed prescribed movements in order to convey different actions and settings; for example, opening a wardrobe, riding a horse, riding a boat, etc. Aside from just that though, all of their movements have a dance-like quality. I'm really mesmerized by how they manipulate their sleeves. I tried attaching a video clip, but sadly it didn't work. I'll just upload some photos instead to give you a general idea:

This is a female performer playing a male role. Note her shoes--they're part of the traditional male opera costume

Chinese flirtation in action. It would appear that tactics have not much changed since the Tang Dynasty. But in all seriousness, notice how gracefully she holds her sleeve.

However, the experience was more than just the opera. As I had anticipated, my teacher and I were the only people there under the age of 60. Much like in the States, opera is primarily popular with an older crowd. Perhaps the most excitement actually occured before the performance even started. After we bought our tickets, we stood around waiting for a little bit and saw this:

The pink sheet is ad for a 27-year old doctor who is 1.62 meters tall

On this small plot of grass were pages and pages of personal-ads, which were put out by various parents, aunts, and uncles who are all searching desperately for husbands/wives for their family members. This is because in China, most people are married by age 25-26. If you are in your late twenties, god FORBID 30s and unmarried, this is serious cause for alarm. I'm not sure what the state of online dating is in China, but for now, your family members still take a lot of personal responsibility in finding your mate.

As I was standing there discussing these cultural differences with my professor, we were suddenly surrounded by a swarm of Chinese senior citizens. They gawk in disbelief, and the first question they ask is "how old are you?" "Twenty-two," I reply, without thinking anything of it. Then they ask where I am from/what work I do. After answering these questions, they get straight to the point: "Are you looking for a Chinese boyfriend?" Oh, duh, of course. They all thought I was there shopping for a husband. When I explain, "I already have an American boyfriend, thank you, and I'm not looking for another," they insist that I need a Chinese boyfriend. One woman states that her 32-year old son would like me a lot. She also offers to teach me how to speak the local Hangzhou-dialect. How flattering, how generous! They also spent a lot of time arguing about how I "don't look American" since I'm short and have dark hair (my 高鼻子 gāo bízi, "tall nose," did meet their expectations, though). Despite my repeated arguments that America is an 移民国家 yímín guójiā (immigrant-country), they weren't buying it. In any case, despite the discomfort, it was an entertaining experience. 

Oh my goodness. The door to our balcony is closed, but I still just heard someone halk then spit with much gusto. I don't know where they were, but that was quite loud. 

And with that, I'm off!