The implications of increasing interdependence The scholars of international relations Joseph Nye and Robert Keohane brought forward the idea that the fortunes of states are inextricably tied together. They argue that the increase in economic and other forms of interdependence will lead to an increase in the probability of cooperation among states. In such an international community of fate, as much as it is desirable to decrease the possibility of armed conflicts, interdependence also means high responsibility and accountability. As most interdependencies nowadays are of an economic nature, they usually follow economic logic (it can be seen as symptomatic that cultural aspects in this context are mostly being reduced to the term of soft power, instead of having their rightful place at the center of all debates). Thus, the system created by those interdependencies appears to be rather fragile, as the underlying foundation is determined by economies of scale and scope as well as locational advantages due to differing standards of working conditions, environmental protection and civil rights. We can already observe the first cracks in this fragile construction of national and economic interest, and the financial crisis of 2008 served as a warning that not all kinds of interdependence are per se desirable. Meanwhile, the institutions we rely on for solving disputes and maintaining accountability are subject to the burden of increasing complexity and interrelation. Maybe we should reconsider the underlying logic. Shouldn't we at least strive to work towards a world, where the living and working conditions of the common people are not subordinated to economic and politic considerations? From my own time as a student in China, I recall very clearly what many of my Chinese classmates would call this opinion: naive. However, Chinese culture is known for its long-term thinking, wisdom and focus on sustainability. And most Chinese bear the conflict between pragmatism and romanticism in their hearts, with one side prevailing over the other – as it is with most people – depending on the novels they read in their youth and the demands of the times they live in. If there is a lesson, which can be drawn from China’s development, it would be that progress never comes without disruption. In this respect, Napoleon’s famous quote “China is a sleeping giant. Let her sleep, for when she wakes she will move the world”, which has been excessively used by advocates of the China-threat theory during the last decades, is more facetted than one would suspect. The horrifying air pollution in many Chinese cities, which is causing deaths every year and filling the waiting halls of Chinese hospitals, and other environmental as well as social problems, including rising cost of living, reveal the shadow side of China’s economic rise. While not all parts of society have benefitted equally from this wealth, everybody living in China, Chinese as well as foreigners, share the cost. Contrary to Western countries, Chinese philosophy puts much more responsibility to the individual. In many Western countries, the moral sphere of individuals is determined by the Christian concept of guilt and atonement, while on a social level they hold the role of the citizen, with its implied duties and rights. Contrary to that, the Chinese concept of xiushen, qijia, zhiguo, pingtianxia (a concept from the Book of Rites, Great Learning, which describes how the peaceful order of the country derives from the self-improvement of its people) is an unequivocal appeal to the moral individual, combining moral and social roles to a comprehensive concept of moral conduct. In China, Aristotle’s political animal becomes a moral animal. But how can a country that stresses the moral conduct, or the dao, be filled with suspicion and the unbounded fear of missing an opportunity, which any observant and sensible traveler will easily realize when coming to China? One grotesque example is a recent newspaper article on a toilet-paper machine installed in Beijing’s Temple of Heaven as an attempt to tackle toilet paper theft. The machine is equipped with a face scanner to ensure that no more than 60 cm of toilet paper can be allocated to a person within a certain period of time. It seems absurd and at the same time is substantial to raise the issue of the dao in this context. To the foreign observer as well as to the Chinese themselves, there is a widening gap between the ideal of the Chinese way of life and reality. In his Letter to a Chinese Gentleman, Tolstoy writes the following lines: “Individuals and societies are always in a transitory state from one age to another, but there are times when these transitions are especially apparent and vividly realized, both for individuals and for societies. As is happens with a man who has suddenly come to feel that he can no longer continue a childish life, so also in the life of nations there come periods when societies can no longer continue to live as they did, and they realize the necessity of changing their habits, organization, and activity.” Of course, it would be ridiculous to compare China – one of the most ancient civilizations – to an adolescent. However, there is truth in Tolstoy’s statement and when a country undergoes dramatic changes, a certain degree of confusion is unavoidable. Will China, when expanding its current model of economic growth into other regions, also expand the confusion resulting from this model? The nature of China’s 21st century Silk Road As mentioned above, the historic connotation of the OBOR initiative is particular. It is often stated that Eastern philosophy focuses on concentric structures, while Western thinking focuses on linear conceptions of history. But in both the East and West alike we can observe historic backward-orientation, with President Trump’s “Make America Great Again” probably serving as the most recent example. In Europe, such historic references are generally mentioned with care. There is hardly a European nation, which had not been involved in hostile conflict with its neighboring countries. The book, in which the bloody history of Europe is written, consists of closed chapters and hardly anyone would want to reopen them (with the exception of Great Britain, maybe). But the historical connotation of the OBOR leads us to travel back in our minds into the times when China was at its economic peak. Among the tangible Chinese products, for which the Europeans were striving, were exquisite silk brocade, fragrant tealeaves and finest chinaware. Their delicate nature revealed the sophistication of the Chinese civilisation and the desire of foreigners for those items can be seen to a high extent as acknowledgement of this sophistication. The rise of China since the beginning of the Reform and Opening Policy in 1978 has without doubt been a materialistic one as well. And as this rise is usually being reduced to economic figures such as GDP growth, we are inclined to draw historical connections and forget to see tangible products as results of a mode of social organisation and activity. In this respect, the products which filled the shipping containers of the first direct train from China’s Zhejiang province to Spain’s Madrid in 2015 were of a very different nature compared to the items Made in China from the heyday of the ancient Silk Road. Let us go one step further. In the preface to The Spirit of The Chinese People, the Chinese intellectual Gu Hongming writes: “Now in order to estimate the value of a civilization, it seems to me, the question we must finally ask is not what great cities, what magnificent houses, what fine roads it has built and is able to build; what beautiful and comfortable furniture, what clever and useful implements, tools and instruments it has made and is able to make; no, not even what institutions, what arts and sciences it has invented: the question we must ask, in order to estimate the value of a civilization, is, what type of humanity, what kind of men and women it has been able to produce.” When I think of the term humanity within the Chinese context, I cannot help but think of the Chinese idiom yingge yanwu, which literally means, “orioles sing and swallows dart” and describes a scene of spring and prosperity. This is the Chinese way of life, which I learnt living among Chinese in Beijing’s Xiaojingchang hutong. I shared a public toilet with several other households and my living conditions were by far below the general standard. But when I came home from university, my neighbours greeted me with a smile on their face. The door of my apartment was often unlocked. I was surrounded by children’s laughter and a walk around the neighbourhood, passing by chess playing men and couples dancing in the park, allayed whatever worries I could have possibly had. Unfortunately, these oases of content are decreasing in space and number as city planners rebuild China according to a concept of modernity, which in my view has not been contested enough. Conclusion The aim of the OBOR initiative to provide a platform for regional cooperation between China, Central Asia and Europe is without doubt positive and desirable. However, this essay attempted to search for the base of such a cooperation considering three aspects – the inseparability of the material and the spiritual spheres, the implications of increasing interdependence and the nature of China’s 21st century Silk Road. I believe the base will be a materialistic as well as a spiritual one, with the latter being of higher importance in the long run. The reflections of this essay on the ancient Silk Road show that ideas proofed to be much more powerful than tangible goods. Thus, it is abstruse that many debates about the OBOR initiative leave cultural aspects aside or reduce them to their function as soft power. Whether the OBOR will indeed create a platform for cooperation rather than igniting competition will to a large extend depend on the ability of the participating countries to respond to this truth by promoting mutual understanding and acceptance towards people’s natural curiosity for foreign cultures and ideas. Close to Berlin lies the city of Potsdam, home to the summer palace of Frederick the Great. Located in the palace park is the so-called Chinese House, a garden pavilion designed in the then- popular style of chinoiserie. On the outside, the pavilion is decorated with sculptures of eating, drinking and music-making Chinese figures. I recall how a Chinese classmate of mine, after visiting the Chinese House in Potsdam, expressed his astonishment. To him, the Chinese sculptures did not look genuinely Chinese. The clothes were not authentic, the features were not Asian, etc. It shows how distorted European perceptions of China were back then. European visitors laugh at this fact as well and find it entertaining. However, I wonder whether they would be able to draw a more accurate picture of the Chinese people today if asked to. Sources: Stefan Zweig, “The Monotonization of the World” (1925), in The Weimar Republic Sourcebook, edited by Anton Kaes, Martin Jay, and Edward Dimendberg. © 1994 Regents of the University of California. Published by the University of California Press, pp. 397-400. Leo Tolstoy, “Letter to a Chinese Gentleman” (1906) Gu Hongming, “The Spirit of the Chinese People” (1915)

- Anming - On weekends, there is a book fair in front of Berlin’s Humboldt University, where used books are sold for a fair price. Whenever I pass by, I get at least one book and most likely it happens to be a book about China. Since my last visit, I am the proud owner of Europe and the Chinese emperors, an essay collection on Sino-European relations from 1240 until 1816. The book under my arm, I continued walking to the Lustgarten, it was most pleasant Sunday-weather, where I sat down on a bench and took a closer look at my new treasure. It contained an essay on Sino-European trade relations between 1500 and 1800, giving detailed information on fluctuating prices, advantages through advanced technology, and cultural misunderstandings. It was a story of competition rather than cooperation. A story of greed for silver and gold. A story of merchants. Since the announcement of the Silk Road Economic Belt and the Maritime Silk Road in 2013, the concept of One Belt, One Road (OBOR) has gained increasing attention by politicians, the academia and the media, both in China and abroad. The OBOR, which has even been referred to as the “Chinese Marshall Plan”, is an initiative to establish comprehensive economic corridors and aims to provide a platform for regional cooperation between China, Central Asia and Europe. Its focus is on development of infrastructure, especially pipelines, railroads and transportation networks. Furthermore, it includes the expansion of deep-sea harbors. The OBOR initiative is also connected to the founding of the China-led Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB), which opened its doors in January 2016 and is a multilateral development bank with the goal to support the building of infrastructure in the Asia-Pacific region. Being the most frequently mentioned concept on People’s Daily in the year of 2016, it did not take a long time until observers split into two camps, with one enthusiastically hailing the coming of a multilateral world order and the other warning of an increasingly strong China, which will make use of its political and economic power to challenge the universal claim of Western values. The world has seen how One World, One Dream became the Chinese Dream within four years’ time. Isn’t it justified to worry that the One Belt, One Road will end up to be the Chinese Road? While most observers analyse the issue from economic, political and security aspects, my reflections on the OBOR initiative are of a different nature. I would like to examine this question from three aspects: first, the inseparability of the material and the spiritual spheres; second, the implications of increasing interdependence; and last, the nature of China’s 21st century Silk Road. The inseparability of the material and the spiritual spheres What comes as a surprise to me is the historic connotation of the concept. Let us travel for a moment into the period, when the middle kingdom was at its economic and cultural peak. During the Tang dynasty (618–907), the Tang capital of Chang’an was the most populous city in the world. The dynasty dominated the lucrative trade routes along the Silk Road and exerted powerful influence over neighboring states. The period is particularly famous for its poetry and innovations, such as printing techniques. Closely related to this, the most significant aspect of the Tang dynasty was its comparative openness towards cultural exchange. The journey of the Chinese monk Xuanzang, who traveled to India and devoted his later life to the translation of Buddhist texts, is perhaps the most famous example for cultural exchange during the Tang dynasty. Just like Buddhism, many other religions such as Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Zoroastrianism and Manicheism travelled along the Silk Road and spread among the peoples of Europe and Asia. Bringing cultures and peoples in contact with each other might be the most lasting legacy of the Silk Road, as merchants had to learn foreign languages and customs in order to be able to conduct trade. Without the ancient Silk Road and its implications, many of the Chinese cultural achievements we regard as self-evident today, e.g. novels like The Journey to the West or even parts of Chinese language, which has also been deeply influenced by Buddhism, would not exist today. Cultural interaction was the foundation on which material exchange was made possible. Regarding cultural exchange, as any kind of development and change, one sentence proofed to be valid throughout history: where there is light, there is shadow. In this respect, the comparison to the Marshall Plan might not be so misleading, as long time before its implementation, many Europeans perceived the influx of American popular culture as a negative phenomenon. One example is the Austrian author Stefan Zweig, who wrote in his essay The Monotonization of the World in 1925: “The historians of the future will one day mark the page following the great European war as the beginning of the conquest of Europe by America. Or, more accurately, the conquest is already rippingly underway, and we simply fail to notice it (conquered peoples are always too-slow thinkers). The European countries still find the receipt of a credit in dollars a cause for celebration. We continue to flatter ourselves with illusions of America’s philanthropic and economic goals. In reality we are becoming colonies of its life, its way of life, slaves to an idea profoundly foreign to Europe: the mechanical idea. But our economic obedience seems to me minor compared to the spiritual danger. The colonization of Europe would not be so terrible politically; to servile souls all slavery is mild and the free always know how to preserve their freedom. The genuine danger to Europe seems to me to be a matter of the spirit, of the importation of American boredom, of that dreadful, quite specific boredom that rises over there from every stone and every house on all the numbered streets. The boredom that does not, like the earlier European variety, come from calmness, from sitting on the park bench playing dominoes and smoking a pipe—a lazy waste of time indeed, but not dangerous. American boredom is restless, nervous, and aggressive; it outruns itself in its frantic haste, seeks numbness in sports and sensations. It has lost its playfulness, scurries along instead in the rabid frenzy of an eternal flight from time. It is always inventing new artifices for itself, like cinema and radio, to feed its hungry senses with nourishment for the masses, and it transforms this common interest in enjoyment into concerns as massive as its banks and trusts.” It can be concluded that economic expansion and cultural interaction go hand in hand and that the participating regions are always exposed to a lively exchange of ideas and cultural change. With its ambitions in infrastructure development and economic expansion as brought forward in the OBOR initiative, China will not be an exception. In times of wall-building and rising inward- orientation, China ventures economic expansion. The success of this initiative will depend to a large extend on its preparedness to deal with the cultural implications of this expansion. This will proof particularly crucial with the various countries of Eastern Europe and Central Asia, equally rich in traditions, ethnicity and religion, as well as the conflicts resulting from this multifaceted nature. to be continued...

Wangfujing (王府井) literally means "Prince's Mansion Well". It is a famous shopping street in Beijing's Dongcheng district with commercial activities since the middle of the Ming Dynasty. Despite the cold winter months, sellers will offer their goods all over the year. A last refuge for experienced bargainers after Silk & Yaxiu Market have been transformed into shopping malls.

- Anming - When Marco Polo entered the city gates of Dadu in the 13th century, it couldn’t have been a more mysterious world that was opening up to him. In the western travelers’ minds, China was and still is exotic and strange, a reverse image to the familiar western world with its peculiarities of architecture, music and art. Although it takes modern travelers just a few hours in a comfortable airplane and not several years encountering sandstorms and bandits, they still come to China secretly bearing hopes for adventure and enlightenment by some of the things considered typical Chinese, may it be Chinese wisdom and philosophy, Chinese medicine or Socialism with Chinese characteristics. And yet the impatient traveler’s hopes are all to soon being shattered by the truth of modern mega cities. Beijing, Shanghai, Chongqing, Guangzhou, grey and bursting of anonymous people. Antlike and insignificant, they push themselves into Beijing’s crowded subway every morning, and still, the very private goals they are most rightfully pursuing – wealth, the newest iPhone, domestic harmony or even love – mean the world to them. Today, the middle kingdom is not obviously exotic anymore and it won’t deliver immediate revelation. Perseverance is key, or as Confucius puts it: “a person who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones”. It starts with accumulating a presentable collection of This Is China moments and ends in the comforting certainty that somewhere between successfully ordering your first Kungpao Chicken in Chinese and shaking hands with the Chinese president, this strange spot on the world map, 39°55′N 116°23′E, has become your second home. It is the time when your year review is not merely a chronology of events, but the memory of familiar feelings, thousands of kilometres away from your hometown. In spring, I was longing for the first cherry blossoms and fragrant peonies, remembering me of all the foolish things I have done in the many springs before. Like secretly skipping a whole week of school or writing cheesy love letters. In summer, I was strolling around Beijing’s hutongs, curiously observing what new trends will be created there this season. Beijing will always be a city of two paces, only within the second ring people cultivate a relaxed way of life. They fish, play Chinese chess and card games, walk with their birdcages wearing pyjamas and enjoy the sunshine. Finally, the long winter is over and they come out of their narrow hutongs to claim the green alleys as their rightful gardens. In autumn, the streets are framed with red and orange trees. On a golden autumn day with an air quality index below twenty and a cool evening breeze, Beijing shows itself at its best. The words of Lao She come into my mind: “The sky is so high, so blue, so bright, just as if it told the people of Beiping with a smile: during these days, mother nature wont mean you any harm.” Most unfortunately, parade blue wasn’t the new normal… In winter, my boyfriend brings me tanghulu and walnuts on his way home. When meeting a former Chinese classmate, we accidentally got into a British Christmas carol singing night at Beijing’s bookworm coffee. I realized how swiftly a foreign culture can find its way into China and how easy it is for young and open-minded people to enjoy other country’s traditions. Beijing is changing its faces many times throughout the year and so do the people who live in this city. Now, a thin layer of ice is covering lake Houhai as we make our New Year’s resolutions. And if we are honest, we are already looking forward to the foolish things we will do in the coming year.

- Anming - Some people think that making New Year's resolutions is ao-te, just like watching 'dinner for one' whole length or wearing long-sleeved bodysuits. I don’t belong to them. In fact, I am pretentious enough to make a New Year's resolution not only for myself, but for the entire People’s Republic of China: Keep your lungs clean. I am still shocked about the huge amount of people running around Beijing during air alert without protection. Even more shocking, it is getting quite common to see people wearing masks although the AQI is below 30. Stay informed: There are useful apps for your tablet or phone like Air Quality or 蓝pi等风. Many apps are for free and they provide comprehensive information. All you have to do is press the download button and check every morning before you leave the house. Use air purifiers: There should not be a single Beijing family without air purifiers at home. At least you should clean the air in your bedroom before going to sleep on an AQI 500+ day. Many international companies have already joined the air purifier business, but there are also smaller start-ups like Smart Air, offering effective air purifiers at a reasonable price. Wear masks. Many companies produce effective masks. 3M, Totobobo, Draeger, just to name a few. I see many people on the street with thin cloth masks. They look cute and keep the face warm, but won’t protect any lungs. Bigger masks can be used for a longer time as the filters can be removed and the mask washed, resulting in less waste. In fact, the argument against effective masks I hear most often is that they look ugly. I didn’t know that I was supposed to make a fashion statement on my daily way to the office… This blog is not meant to be product placement, but people should know their options. Actually most of the ways to protect ourselves from air pollution are affordable. Let's think more about it in 2016.

- Anming - There are certain things in China, which foreigners simply can’t appreciate. When Starbucks and H&M want to make us belief that the world is populated with tasteless, uniform people, they are the last evidence of cultural difference. Engraved stone steels and cabbage-shaped jade are among them. It might be the oldest of all questions since the Tower of Babel, sliding into obscurity over half a century of globalization and revived by Huntington’s clash of civilizations. Can different cultures enrich each other or must they conflict? I am afraid, sentences like China is too big won’t be of much help, one could swap it for the world is too big, or – do something constructive instead and focus on the things everyone can appreciate. Those are the things, which bring people together. Like an honest smile, a sincere compliment, the nature, clean air. Like the first snowfall… I am certain, snow has never fallen more beautifully than on Chinese roofs. Just like Venice reveals its true beauty only to the winter tourist, the Forbidden City is most enchanting when covered with fresh, glistening snow. About Venice, Russian-born author and Literature Nobel Prize winner Brodsky wrote:“I would never come here in summer, not even at gunpoint. In winter you wake up in this city, especially on Sundays, to the chiming of its innumerable bells, as though behind your gauze curtains a gigantic china teaset were vibrating on a silver tray in the pearl-gray sky. You fling the window open and the room is instantly flooded with this outer, peal-laden haze, which is part damp oxygen, part coffee and prayers.” (from Joseph Brodsky, Watermark, 1992) The Beijing resident enters the Forbidden City from the North Gate after climbing the Coal Hill in Jingshan Park. Once established as a private imperial garden, the park was opened to the public in 1928. To the south lies the Forbidden City, motionless with its golden roofs. To the north, a few roofs can be seen in the park, like small boats floating on a green ocean. Among these trees, the last emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Chongzhen, hanged himself in 1644 while rebels approached the capital. He had a whole empire to waste, normal people just have their own lifetime. I wonder, what is less painful. I am not Chinese. If I were Chinese, I’d give this essay a tacky ending using the snowflake as a symbol of different cultures, unique in structure, but sharing one origin. Instead, I make myself a cup of tea and wait patiently for the second snow to come. That’s a bit Chinese as well, I have to admit.

- Anming - There are powerful sentences you might come across when living in China. One of them is: China is too big. You got lost in narrow Hutong alleys, the Chinese next to you can point north with the accuracy of a compass needle, but can’t say where the next public toilet is? You are stuck with the typical air pollution office talk on a grey Beijing morning or conversation over the correctness of China’s GDP growth figures? There is one sentence, which is never misplaced and has saved many an awkward moment– China is too big. A sentence I was glad to use when I received an invitation from the Bingtuan (Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps), also known as XPCC, for a field study trip to Xinjiang. It was in 2013, my fifth year in China, I had not heard of the Bingtuan before and was rather embarrassed of my knowledge gap. However, one shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, I confirmed the trip and resolved to use it to fill all my Bingtuan-related gaps. The Bingtuan is an economic and paramilitary government organization in Xinjiang, which has administrative authority over several cities, settlements and farms. Founded in 1954 under the orders of Mao Zedong in order to develop border regions, it has a unique administrative structure, providing healthcare, education and other governmental functions for regions under its jurisdiction. After over fifty years of history, the Bingtuan runs its own hospitals, universities, TV stations, newspapers, etc. There are 37 ethnic groups represented, the largest of which are the Han (88.1%), Uyghur (6.6%), Hui (2.6%), Kazakhs (1.7%), and Mongol (0.3%), estimated by the Bingtuan in 2002. Our airplane flew over the impressive mountain range of Tien Shan. We got on a bus and headed for Wujiaqu, a sub-prefecture-level city about 40 km north of Urumqi. On a visit to the local middle school, a young student told me of his plans to travel around the world on his bicycle. That was pre-Chinese dream era. We spent time on the farms, looking at cotton fields and digging out yam roots. Some old women came to the fields driving on the back of an in-between vehicle, which bore some resemblance to a pickup truck. We were told they come to steal-take-borrow yam roots. The women belonged to an ethnic minority. They couldn’t understand a word of our Mandarin, studied under hardship, uncountable nights in cold libraries. They giggled instead and showed us some traditional dances. Their movements were so gracefully, just a few steps away one could have taken them for beautiful young girls. Distance does lend enchantment to the view, their wrinkly faces looked like leather, tanned over decades below the Xinjiang sun. China is full of people like that. We drove to the desert, which lay in total silence before us. Playing cards and beer bottles were scattered here and there, remainders of a nightly get-together. The only sound I could hear were some desert mice and my classmate sending a voice message on Wechat, leaving me with uncomfortable feelings about civilization. The Austrian author Joseph Roth once wrote: “National and linguistic unity can be a strength, national and linguistic diversity is always one.” Despite daily meals of smoked horsemeat with salted milk tea, I was sad to leave Xinjiang, the region that seems monotonous and unexciting at first glance, but reveals diversity and uniqueness at closer look. I had the feeling that I could have looked a bit closer, but China is too big. One can’t know all emperors, important party leaders, chengyu, etc. People want to know all the answers nowadays, there isn’t place for mystery anymore. While China shows us the limitedness of our own knowledge, it reveals the power of mystery. That is why it is the best place to be dressed for success. All one needs is a tailored suit, a set of name cards and a pack of Chung Hwa smokes. I had none of these items in my luggage when I headed off to the Bingtuan, so I just brought back these memories. Further reading: Bingtuan Official website: http://www.xjbt.gov.cnBingtuan English website: http://www.xjbt.gov.cn/bt/531255.shtmlWebsite on Austrian writer Joseph Roth (only available in German): http://www.josephroth.de/index.htm

- Anming - Some people are easily influenced by music, others by written words, and some - me included - by both. During the last weeks, listening to the new Libertines album (recommended!) and reading short stories by Hemingway made me feel a bit like a teenager again. However, I am already in the summer of my life and should read accordingly. The summer book of choice is the Chin Ping Mei, "Golden Lotus" or "The Plum in the Golden Vase". Hard to find, I managed with a little help from my boyfriend to get the translation by David Tod Roy from Peking University's library. With one hundred chapters and a promising story (the turning point is when the main character acquires “a powerful aphrodisiac from a mysterious Indian monk, who is presented to us, without comment, as the personification of a penis”), the Chin Ping Mei is the perfect book for those interested in the “clouds and rain”. Besides, my vocabulary got extended to phrases like “punting the boat by night”, “snitching chicken and filching dogs”, and - of course - “the divine turtle”. It seems to be quite suitable read for Beijing Autumn days, when the AQI index orders you to stay inside - wear mask - avoid ventilation. When air pollution makes us forget that a new season is waiting right outside the closed window, luckily, the Chin Ping Mei reminds us of the changes of seasons: "Heaven has its spring, summer, autumn, and winter," just as "Man has his sorrows and joys, partings and reunions." There is no reason to be surprised that this is so. (Preface to the Chin Ping Mei Tz'u-Hua) In fact, there is reason to be surprised, as the year in Beijing is rather "Fifty Shades of Grey" than "The Four Seasons". Autumn in Beijing is the most beautiful time of the year. And it has always been. Lao She already knew this, when he wrote : 中秋前后是北平最美丽的时候。天气正好不冷不热，昼夜的长短也划分得平匀。没有冬季从蒙古吹来的黄风，也没有伏天里挟着冰雹的暴雨。天是那么高，那么蓝，那么亮，好象是含着笑告诉北平的人们：在这些天里，大自然是不会给你们什么威胁与损害的。西山北山的蓝色都加深了一些，每天傍晚还披上各色的霞帔。来源：《四世同堂》　老舍　著　北京十月文艺出版社　 The time around the mid autumn festival is the most beautiful time in Beiping. The weather is just right, not too cold and not too hot, and day and night are of equal length. There is no sign of the yellow winds, which blow from Mongolia during the winter months. No sign of the hot summer days' hailing rainstorms. The sky is so high, so blue, so bright, just as if it told the people of Beiping with a smile: during these days, mother nature won't mean you any harm. PS: I wrote that post before October 8th. Eventually, it is neither “Fifty Shades of Grey”, nor “The Four Seasons”, but “Gone with the Wind”! Not Surprising, but not encouraging either. Further Readings: Lao She, Autumn in Beiping: http://www.dangjian.cn/ds/jtrds/jpsz/201309/t20130923_1484971.shtmlThe Plum in the Golden Vase, translated by David Tod Roy, Princeton Library of Asian Translations

- Anming - Provocation is nothing new in western popular culture. It came a long way from Gaultier’s 1990 Madonna bra to Lady Gaga’s VMA meat dress. Not to mention my bearded compatriot Conchita Wurst, who sang „Rise like a phoenix“ at last year’s Eurovision Song Contest and scaried the pants off Russian homophobes worldwide. According to global media, 25-years old singer Taylor Swift now plans to launch a fashion line in China with “TS” and “1989”, her initials and birth year, but a sensitive date in the Middle Kingdom. It is a new, Freudian approach to provocation. Only the clever people will see the emperor’s new clothes, only the China-bashers will understand the message. Has provocation ever been subtler? The usual target of provocation in western popular culture was society, the aim more tolerance. Now, a new kind of provocation is emerging, political rather than social, eventually resulting in less tolerance. I agree, it is difficult to beat a dress made of raw beef. But the line between provoaction and offense is very thin, especially when it comes to questions of politics or religion. Good examples are the movie “The Interview“ or Mohammed cartoons. How lucky, that Taylor Swift won’t have to stand behind her message, she will shrug her shoulders and say “These are just my initials and my birth year”. Snore... Swift, the second best paid female musician worldwide, whose father is leading the Swift Group at Bank of America Merill Lynch won’t risk to go without the Chinese market, she is a pragmatic young woman. She is so pragmatic, she once said "I have this feeling like if I were to open myself up to love, that would be a career weakness." Still, conspiracy theorists might appreciate the titles of her last four albums: Fearless (2008), Speak Now (2010), Red (2012) and 1989 (2014). I am not saying that people should keep silent about sensitive topics. But I doubt that a printed t-shirt is the ideal medium. One thing worked for sure: Swift got a lot of media attention for her coming fashion line. I am sure, her daddy is really proud. Ka-ching! *** At the end of this post, I want to raise awareness of some things in China that are pretty provocative, might even posing a threat to western values. My top two Chinese summer provocations are as follows: The Peking Bikini: invented in 1946 by the Parisian engineer Louis Reard and named after the Bikini Atoll, the two-piece swimsuit was first declared sinful and even banned in many countries. It took twenty years of struggle until it was accepted in most western countries. Now, the history of bikini made a fatal turn with chubby male Beijingers rolling up their t-shirts on a hot summer day, widely known as the "beijing bijini". The Sock in the High Heel: when I attended the open day at the Italian Embassy in Beijing, I realized what were the core values of Southern Europe – shoes and bags. Sure, Chinese are obsessed with protective plastic film, they put it on couches, tables, fridges and washing machines. But when it comes to socks in high heels, they are simply taking it too far.

- Anming - Sometimes two opposites are not far from each other. For example, some people say that there is a fine line between genius and insanity. And probably most of us have seen love changing into hate overnight. For me, life these days is ruled by the struggle between two other opposites – compassion and Schadenfreude. For weeks I had to listen to people around me commenting on their portfolio developments. People in China from all walks of life kept their eyes fixed on their smart phones, and on the situation of the Shanghai Stock Exchange. I was astonished by the hypocrisy as the ones who had just complained about economic crisis and bank manager salaries now proudly boasted that „their money is working for them“. Could that be the Chinese dream – Money for nothing and chicks for free? According to economist Charles P. Kindleberger and Hyman P. Minsky, most speculative stock market bubbles follow a similar pattern of five stages (source: investopedia.com): Displacement: A displacement occurs when investors get enamored by a new paradigm, such as an innovative new technology or interest rates that are historically low. Boom: Prices rise slowly at first, following a displacement, but then gain momentum as more and more participants enter the market, setting the stage for the boom phase. During this phase, the asset in question attracts widespread media coverage. Fear of missing out on what could be an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity spurs more speculation, drawing an increasing number of participants into the fold. Euphoria: During this phase, caution is thrown to the wind, as asset prices skyrocket. The “greater fool” theory plays out everywhere. Valuations reach extreme levels during this phase. Profit Taking: By this time, the smart money – heeding the warning signs – is generally selling out positions and taking profits. But estimating the exact time when a bubble is due to collapse can be a difficult exercise and extremely hazardous to one's financial health, because, as Keynes put it, "the markets can stay irrational longer than you can stay solvent." Note that it only takes a relatively minor event to prick a bubble, but once it is pricked, the bubble cannot "inflate" again. Panic: In the panic stage, asset prices reverse course and descend as rapidly as they had ascended. Investors and speculators, faced with margin calls and plunging values of their holdings, now want to liquidate them at any price. As supply overwhelms demand, asset prices slide sharply. So, when a common guard told me that he invested a year’s salary in the stock market, I knew that something bad was going to happen. That was in June. He suggested me to invest too, but I am real economy person, I’d rather buy 10000 pencils and store them in my closet than investing in stock. Now the guard has lost a lot of money and I am torn between compassion and Schadenfreude. However, we shouldn’t be too pessimistic. Every crisis bears opportunities. When a journalist once asked the great Egyptian actor Omar Sharif, who died yesterday at the age of 83, why he played in so many movies, he answered: “I used to gamble quite a bit, and then I was always broke. I was always one film behind my debts.“ Further reading: Charles P. Kindleberg, Manias, Panics, and Crashes, 1978.