The Scoreboard: The Twelve Kingdoms

As everybody else on this planet, I have an opinion. As many people do too, I like to write about it. Share it generously. And I am excellent at keeping score (mentally), so I will try tallying up my fondness of things according to balance.

The Twelve Kingdoms

As much as I like epic stories, I tend to not always have the patience for them. I prefer to know there’s an end, that I’m not left wanting more when I don’t know it’s available or going to come at all. This is why I tend not to watch longer anime series. However, I may make an exception if they’re already finished and highly rated.

Additionally, a period of sickness may allow me to breeze through the episodes as the binge watching that I generally abhor. But I must confess after finishing The Twelve Kingdoms that I do think parts of it are best consumed at once.

Stories about normal, possibly unhappy, people getting transported to a fantasy world where they have to grapple with new purpose and responsibilities have become really popular in anime over the past 15 years. Called isekai in Japanese, literally meaning different world, it’s a genre that I’m slightly hesitant about. Of course, nothing is more attractive than a premise that any of us may one day be swept away and turn out to be destined for something bigger than we could have ever imagined, but I can tend to struggle with these stories if I cannot sufficiently sympathize with the main character on its new journey.

And I did have some trepidation after the first few episodes if Nakajima Youko would be bearable as a heroine. She’s a serious, smart but also very obedient high school student who is suddenly attacked and then transported to another world with Twelve Kingdoms, based on ancient China. She accidentally involves two classmates as well in her adventure, one who’s always had a dream she would be a ‘chosen one’ and another who’d much rather return to his comfortable life alone. Youko meanwhile learns to stand up for herself, face fears and difficult choices, and quickly enough becomes a heroine you can actually root for.

The series seems to have adapted most of the main storylines contained in the original light novels. This means there’s basically 4 different parts with partly overlapping characters, but mainly independent storylines. The parts about Youko take up the bulk of the series. The beginning which shows all of her trials and the revelation that she’s a queen of one of the kingdoms, and a middle section which shows her quelling an uprising shortly after ascending the throne. The other parts are much shorter and deal with other rulers.

The world of The Twelve Kingdoms is rich and dense. It’s clearly based on ancient Chinese civilization, although the writing is not all existing Chinese characters, with a highly stratified hierarchy and a Heaven that decides it all. Rulers of the kingdoms are chosen by auspicious, mythical creatures called kirin. If a ruler starts to enact policies that are not beneficial to its kingdom, the kirin will get sick and eventually die, leading to the death of the ruler as well. Then a new kirin will be born who will choose a new ruler.

It’s a bit of a pity that the kirin look more like a dog-unicorn hybrid than the legendary hooved chimerical creature it actually is with a dragon’s head. But the show has a nice, albeit dated, look to it and clearly depicts the different kingdoms. Instead of being all about grandiose battles and adventures, the series is mostly interested in political scheming and human interactions. This sets it apart from many other entries in the genre and makes for an interesting perspective on the world, although it does move at an uneven pace sometimes.

It also feels like the story could have benefitted from some more room to breathe, especially the two shorter parts of which one just ends without any resolution. It seems that the continuation of that story happened long after the series was finished and the cop-out was unintended, but it’s still quite frustrating.

All the same, The Twelve Kingdoms sweeps you off of your feet to a different world and time, offering a rich and immersive experience. I rate it, not as deadly as becoming a courtesane to the royal court and much more enjoyable to watch.

Not too young to romanticize youth

In February I saw a newer Chinese movie at the International Film Festival Rotterdam: “Now I met her”. Although the Chinese title is a pun, which I like better. To clarify, normally I vehemently dislike puns and prefer to display my disgust vocally and physically, but I am a bit partial to Chinese puns since the language has so many homophones, it can get very creative. For example, the Chinese title is 我的妈耶 which can be translated as “Now that’s my mother!” Or “Oh my god”. Both interpretations could be suitable titles to the movie in question.

Now the movie itself was a lighthearted, humorous and touching family story. But what stood out to me, was the time it took place in. It tells the story of the mother, who was born in the seventies and spent her youth and formative years during the eighties, nineties and early two thousands. Seldomly, I feel, do a piece of media and a societal trend I’ve read about collide as beautifully as this moment.

Back to the better times

Just a few months earlier, I read an article in Li Yuan’s excellent New York Times column “The New New World” which talked about ‘The beauty of the boom years‘. Li talks about the longing for more optimistic and positive times, mixing with nostalgia of Chinese people who can remember their youth jn a very different environment than they’re currently living in. The outlook gets pretty bleak rather quickly, with interviewees musing about the hopeless job, housing and dating markets.

Li dates the ‘boom years’ unofficially back to 2001, but the movie starts earnestly in the seventies. However, it very much conveys the exuberance, positivism and styles of the previous eras. The comedic timing reminded me of earlier movies as well, with very stylized poses and exaggerated expressions. Even though there are some hardships depicted, these are all overcome and almost depicted as springboards for the next opportunity.

Another aspect that stood out to me, was the mix of Western and Chinese elements. Some clothing in the seventies clearly reference a more Western style with colorful suits, slick hair and fashionable sunglasses. The seventies were the decade when China started opening up and accepting more foreign influences to modernize. Economy was booming and especially southeastern China, where the movie took place, was at the forefront of these developments.

These trends further solidified in the eighties, with Hong Kong having solidified its position as a touristic and commercial hub in Asia. Additionally, its cinema and music scene were highly popular in this decade and had outsize influence on China as well as internationally.

I think from the eighties until the early two thousands is also the perfect timeframe to look back on through rose-colored glasses, since it can sincerely seem far away. All the appliances are big, clunky and have many physical aspects such as buttons and cords. Connectivity is still limited, which may be unthinkable to many nowadays, but therefore desirable.

Sitting in the movie theater, surrounded by a mainly Chinese audience that also swamped the director afterwards for questions, I couldn’t help but feel that this audience was longing to see the perfect China that the current government still insists they’re trying to create. Looking quickly at some movie reviews, the most praise is given for the depiction of the family relationships. The love between mother and father, the tenderness between mother and son. In my opinion, this also fits in the nostalgic theme, reflecting on a time where the rat race wasn’t as extreme and interpersonal connections were a priority.

All in all, I liked the movie and it made me laugh and cry plenty. But most of all, it made me think and that’s even better.

Li learns programming: October

I can feel my stomach churning. It even burns a little. And an intense frustration flares up, to the extent that I almost audibly shout out “WHY?!”. In capital letters.

Two courses. I’ve finished two courses by now and am almost overwhelmed with a feeling of not knowing most of the things. Whenever I look for a new challenge to practice with, I almost invariably choose to practice the ‘easy’ things. So that I can feel a bit surer of what to do or how to get to the end goal. And at the same time, I should feel happy that there are already things that feel ‘easy’.

Following a masterclass on AI & data a few weeks ago, what struck me most was its emphasis on explicitness. You need to be very precise in talking to computers, nothing can be implied. And if I put my frustration in that context, it’s actually quite similar to how language acquisition works. And I felt the same when learning Russian, where the approach was immersion. Diving head-first into the language and getting the grammar explained along the way. I didn’t study it for very long so I didn’t get very far, but I got used to the method eventually.

I think what I miss the most in this way of learning is a payoff. Because you don’t notice immediately when you’re immersed if you’ve improved or not, you just continue. I have the same with programming. I continue, and feel relief if an answer is correct, but I forget to look back. Only when I notice the really easy ones are not a challenge anymore, do I realize where I’m at. But it also doesn’t feel that fulfilling, since those are clearly the easiest ones that anyone without coding experience could also reason through.

Going through this process makes me think again about my roadblocks when learning. I cannot enjoy learning just for the sake of experiencing something new or different. I need some utilitarian aspect, or the prospect that this new knowledge or skill is going to be put to good use. And maybe that’s why programming is a good challenge as well. Its actual use still seems so far away from where I am right now, that I feel like I don’t have any choice but to enjoy the ride for now. And if nothing else, I’ll try my best to do that at least.

Li Learns Programming: September

Doing something I’m not good at is the worst.

This is the second time I’m diving into programming more seriously. As a recovering perfectionist, I generally avoid doing things that I don’t feel an immediate affinity for. Of course I enjoy a challenge, but I’d rather have it with the prospect of becoming somewhat decent at it relatively quickly.

Enter coding, it’s a particular curiosity of mine that relates to matters that interest me as someone with a humanities background. Design, behaviors, analysis, interaction, language, it has it all. But it doesn’t have it in a way that’s very accessible to me.

On my first foray into coding, focusing on web design, I was surprised at how foreign its language seemed to me. There were new terms like booleans and existing terms being used differently like arguments and. Sentences that seemed like plain English suddenly seemed unintelligible. I don’t think I’ve really tried something else where I felt that out of water before. Even more so because I didn’t improve quickly or seemingly, at all.

My interest in coding coincided with my first job at a company where I directly worked with software developers and engineers. Before, my interaction with IT hadn’t gone further than the resident IT guy, who mainly sent out emails warning about phishing and walked around advising to restart devices when they malfunctioned. IT seemed like a grey world of zeroes and ones, quite necessary but utterly devoid of any creativity.

However, joining a small company with a sizable amount of developers on its staff, brought me much closer to the source. It provided an actual look into what could be accomplished with programming and how mystical it appeared to me. Meetings were filled with wondrous names that had equally wondrous promises. And although I didn’t really understood it, others did and even got very enthusiastic about it. It got me very interested, but also very furstrated when I realized how different programming and developing works as a process of creations.

I like to think of myself as a creative person. But there’s a certain straightforwardness that I like to have in its process. I’m not an idea machine, my imagination works best when prompted (come at me ChatGPT) and if directed at something conrete. I want things to be concrete, almost tactile if possible. Being able to see the process, but also have an idea how that will lead to the desired result. Words on a page, threads on a loom, moves in a choreography. But I remember when I was introduced to the world of html markup, it seemed like such a big jump to go from <h1></h1> to an actual header. It still boggles my mind that programming just works like that. You write a few things, and then it suddenly works automatically.

I still have the feeling this time that there’s so much happening behind the curtains that I don’t grasp. It feels eerily like learning a language without knowing its grammar and just delving into vocabulary. It can work, but it’s definitely not how I learn best or without the least frustration. It’s an itchy lump that I feel somewhere around my diaphragm when I stare at a black screen that need to be filled with words that will get me to a result that I have difficulty imagining. But when it works, it is very fulfilling. It’s sometimes more fulfilling than my regular learning process, because I struggle so much. And that’s why I want to continue with it. For now.

Asia is a country after all

Two questions popped up when I read about budget cuts for universities and how Leiden University is planning to cut costs: How is it possible to even consider merging all these specialized language studies in bigger regional programs? Would they even consider this for any STEM programs? But first, some context about my experience studying Chinastudies in Leiden.

Although I get asked from time to time if I am a student, that time is long gone. And looking at the recent developments and policy proposals in the education sector, I am happy to be done (for now). At the same time, it is a pretty wild idea that there seem to be people working to not improve our education system. Why is that?

Being adopted and going to China at quite a young age, I already knew for a while before going to university that I wanted to study Chinese. Starting in the year after China hosted the Olympic Games, Chinastudies offered a new window onto China and many others on the region as well. Coming from a small city in Limburg, it was the start of seeing more people like me and getting talked to in English. It was the start of uncovering a history, culture and language that felt foreign but eventually became familiar. It was the start of imagining a life beyond the Netherlands and actually blending into a different environment.

During my studies, I would often get the question of what work I wanted to do afterwards. The suggestions mostly were translator or teacher. I understand that there are some studies which train you for a specific job, but the beauty of humanities is that it offers skills that can be useful in a wide range of job fields and positions. That does not mean I did not struggle with finding work, or that I think this aspect could be better incorporated in the curriculum, but it seems these are not the more practical matters that universities want to focus on.

Recently, I listened to a podcast that described Just-In-Time production, which in modern marketing terms would be called ‘lean’. It basically means that factories only produce as much as they need and keep inventory as low as possible. This means the entire output is customer- or demand-driven, which seems to be a system that Leiden University wants to follow as well. Why offer academic programs that nobody wants to study? Why not shrink the number of staff to just the bare minimum? Why focus on the quality of a program instead of the money it generates?

The ignorance that Leiden University’s management shows by even considering to merge so many different humanities programs, is outright insulting. It is a clear case of undervaluing the worth that academic language and culture programs provide and purely looking at cost-effectiveness. Why try to pretend otherwise?

When I was living in China, or travelling in the country nowadays, I realized many Chinese do not know the Netherlands exist. Admittedly, it does not help that the Chinese name for the Netherlands sounds a lot like a province (Helan vs Henan) and I do not like Dutch either. But adding Europe would often elicit some nodding and affirmative noises. “Ah I see, it is in Europe”, was the general feeling I got. “Ah I see, it is in Asia”, is the general feeling I now get from Leiden University’s management.

Praise for pragmatic fictional characters

Sometimes, I think about how it would be if someone like me would be the main character in a high school anime. Some of the standard highlights, would certainly play out a bit differently I imagine.

Beach episode: I do not really care for the beach. My swimming is quite below average, I wear glasses and cannot really see stuff without them, am bad at ball games which seem to be involved in most beach games. However, I would absolutely kill at the watermelon game. Although I always find it a bit of a waste, since much juice will probably be lost, it is a combination of many things I like. Burst of targeted violence and food. A beach episode would probably just involve getting a few watermelons and a few heads smashed.

Summer festival: although I am capable of wearing long clothes during summer, searing sun beams have made me appreciate extra protection instead of the limited cooling bareness provides, I am not good with clothes that limit my mobility. Although I have excellent mental self-control, my physical self-control is less strict. Especially my legs that preferably have some space between each other, but also to allow me to easily move around on my bike or walk the stairs. The games are also not really my thing. They are either rigged, involve skills I do not have sufficiently or involve too many others around me, especially kids. I do like the food part and the fireworks though, I could easily just fill an episode eating at all the stalls.

Cultural festival: teamwork at a large scale is not really my thing. I would probably do my job, be present, participate and stay in the background.

Sports competition: these really combine two opposites for me, at least when I see them in an anime. On the one hand it is about teamwork, on the other hand it is about winning. I am very much about winning, going all out, amazing everybody. But only if I am good at the thing. The sports I have seen featured in anime often involve a team and hand-eye coordination. Bad combination for me. But the drama created by me not doing my best and being passive-agressive about it, could be entertaining. Possibly.

Valentine’s Day: I do not like baking. I find it a lot of hassle for only part of a meal. I would probably be too nervous to give chocolate anyway if I had a crush, so it would end up being a store-bought bar to a friend or something.

Christmas: as a Dutchie, I am more attached to Saint Nicholas than Santa Claus. However, I do like the idea of a sleigh with reindeer in the air. On the other hand, having KFC or fastfood for Christmas does not attract me too much. Also, the emphasis on romance would probably kill me.

New Year’s Eve and Day: temple visit sounds fun! Praying, fortune telling is always more fun if you only do it on special occasions. Also, I would be dying to have a new year’s dream featured and possible interpretations offered. And of course food and money! A perfect combination.

School trip: I expect to not be late or miss the bus for any of this. I would probably have stuff in my mind that I want to do, see or visit at the destination, but I could be too shy to speak up. That could lead to some nice drama and heightened emotions.

A Taste of News: The ideal number

As many in my direct circle know, I read quite some news. I try to mention at least once per day that I read something in the news, casually, in a conversation. And since commentary and reviewing is something else I like to do, I thought of starting a series where I write my thoughts about an article I read. A lot of them will be related to China, since that is one of the topics I follow most closely.

Three Is Best: How China’s Family Planning Propaganda Has Changed
New York Times

It seems that I am currently entering the phase where children are top of mind. I have been talking a lot about people on my opinion of children, motherhood, family and whatnot. And the Chinese Communist Party is of course also still busy with this topic, trying to get a different result with the same tools as always. This is where you can put that famous quote about this being madness.

As an indirect result of the one-child policy, it has been very interesting to see how little fanfare the reforms have attracted. Even in my head it was still murky when the one-child policy was lifted, but having a feeling that it was in the 2010s. The exact year is 2014, which confirms to me that it happened so much more recent than it feels like.

I think the one-child policy was one crazy, bizarre experiment. Trying to reverse it seems like it is bound to fail. Although nothing is more fun than seeing the Chinese official lines doing a full 180 degrees. Adding a few extra kids to the family statue is top comedy. Seeing old slogans that say it is selfish to have more than one child almost seem they were a few decades to early to anticipate this shift. Seeing new slogans that say a family is incomplete with only one child, emphasizes how empty these words are when there is nothing to back it up. The same counts with state or family support. Right at the time in the Western world that we are almost fully certain the state will be more reliable than family, the Chinese government is calling to bet on the other horse.

At the same time, the absurdity of this propaganda effectively hides a lot of pain. Pain from families that did not have the right amount of children at the right time. The realization that it is not about the people, it is just about the numbers. In a country where millions of people work in factories, construction sites or on the field without any retirement plan and able to see their families twice a year if lucky, this is the situation in which more children are encouraged. In a situation where women are already being heavily underpaid, facing discrimination and sexism in the workplace and have hardly any choice but to become tiger moms so that their children can participate in the rat race that is life, this is the situation in which more children are encouraged.

At the moment, everyone can rest assured in the knowledge that the government will not go as far yet as they used to. And who knows, maybe it will lead to breakthroughs in research on male fertility which has mysteriously declined in recent decades. Maybe it will bring families together if younger people use old propaganda slogans to retort their older family members. Or it could be that the Chinese Communist Party suddenly sees the light and starts to make some systematic changes that will create an environment more conducive to having bigger families.

There is already enough weight put on the decision to get children. Without having to consider a government that may fine, applaud or demonize you, especially if they want a different answer from you ever so often. And what is maddening is that the traces will be removed. Your memory shall not exist, until it is convenient for the Communist Party. It is very selfish and egocentric behavior, just like you would expect from an only child.

A Taste of News: Save the donkeys

Africa’s Donkeys Are Coveted by China. Can the Continent Protect Them?
New York Times

I am a big fan of donkeys. When I was little, we would go on ‘donkey holidays’ which meant spending two weeks hiking through France with some donkeys to carry our luggage. At that time I was still small enough to also be allowed to ride the donkeys from time to time.

Unsurprisingly I was a horse girl during middle and high school, but donkeys have a different atmosphere. Their big ears, small hoofs and stumbling gait endears them in a way that is distinctly different from horses. It also helps that they are pack animal and you will most often see them with an inordinate amount of stuff on their backs while seemingly carrying it without any complaining.

Thus, it really surprised me to read that donkeys are an ingredient used in Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM). Generally, I have heard more about the exotic things they need to heal anything wrong with the body. From deer antlers to pangolin scales, let alone the range of plants that could be needed.

Similar to many other TCM ingredients that are touted as absolutely vital to heal certain ailments, it is interesting to think how much these consist of ‘standard’ natural materials such as keratin and collagen. I have bitten my nails for decades, I am not sure if that made me much healthier than I would have been otherwise.

What really suprised me, was the fact that donkeys cannot reproduce or breed easily. This sent me on a quick Google search, which after the decently informative but slightly too activist Donkey Sanctuary website, led me to the American Association of Equine Practicers website which states in its opening paragraph “Donkey medicine can be fun and rewarding and a break from routine equine practice.”

My two main random fun facts on donkey reproduction that I learned were the following. A female donkey is called a Jenny, a male is called a Jack or jackass. It would be quite funny to do this in Dutch as well. That we do not only talk about Jut and Jul as the standard Dutch people, but that they also refer to a bull and cow? What fun!

Donkeys are pregnant for a long, long, long time. Between 372-374 days. In my ears, having heard plenty of pregnancy tales in the past years, that sounds terrible. More than a year in this state, is awful. No wonder donkeys do not breed that easily. No fun, but it is a fun fact.

What is it with people liking plants?

Okay, I accept that walking in the forest, on a grassy mountain or at a sandy beach feels great. The sun on your face, wind through your hairs and fresh air in your lungs. But what I have never really understood, is why people insist on trying to bring it inside the house.

When I was small, my parents tried to ensure I would be a devoted garden girl. It failed miserably. I dutifully pulled out weeds and tore grasses from in between tiles and watered some greenery. But after getting one plant and having it die on me within 2 months, I was away for 2 weeks and nobody watered it for me, I quickly decided this was way too high maintenance for me.

Since then, I have never had any plants in my house. I remember clearly that a few years ago my mom gave me a plant, which slightly offended me even as if she did not know I would never want such a thing, before I realized it was fake to my huge relief. I lived a blissful life without any plants in the house, up ’till a few years ago.

My current partner likes plants. He even rescued a plant from my former roommate whose plants were sort of perpetually dying. He gets happy when his flowers bloom, new roots grow and trims his plants lovingly. And he tries to sneak in more plants if I let down my guard. Luckily, I am always on high alert.

When he was on holiday for a month last year, I needed to actively remind myself that the plants needed water. It was quite the stress. Also, we now sometimes have annoying flies in the house, although that is good to train my motor skills I guess.

Moving to our new place last year, we even got some plants from friends. Where I would normally have to donate these to my parents or bring them to a plant shelter, they could actually get spot somewhere in our new home. All in all, I am not complaining and I know it is a luxury that I can be surrounded by plants without having to do something for it. But watering the plants spontaneously? I am not a plant mom.

A Taste of News: Fearing the family

AI Game Mimicking Nosy Relatives Takes China by Storm
Sixth Tone

Lunar New Year took place last weekend. Happy year of the dragon! May you prosper! The gods will bring you luck and happiness. Which of course means a stable job, a spacious house and a lovely family.

Festivities make for special times. I can immediately recall which time was the most memorable of all the New Years spent in China, but today we are not talking about that. This news article was recommended to me on Facebook, one of the few organizations I still follow on the platform, and had an extraordinarily high number of likes. Unsurprisingly. I think Chinese New Year is most well-known for a few things: the great number of people that move around the country (the infamous greatest migration worldwide), the great number of dishes you will consume during the holiday and the great number of annoying questions your relatives will unrelentlessly pound you with.

I think this is one of the cases where you cannot win, unless you are young and only need to collect money from a red envelope. If you are a student, you need to get good grades and find a partner timely (but big minus points if it seems you are sleeping around or dating multiple people, that is not proper behavior), if you have started your first job you should not argue with your boss and find a partner timely, if you have a partner you should buy a house and get a kid, if you have a partner and a house and a kid you should make sure it is well-behaved and getting good grades. In other words, the comments are endless. And this game must be difficult, excruciatingly so.

Because there are somewhat extraordinary pressures on Chinese returning for the new year to their families, it is no wonder that it is an endless source of different societal behaviors that may be more or less true on a larger scale. Children hiring partners online to take home has been a big story for a couple of years, children not going home is starting to become a bigger story to emphasize individualism and assertiveness, traditional costumes being replaced by cheap uniformity bought online. I am surprised I am not reading more about certain foods being replaced but I guess that is the thing most people probably can agree on to keep as traditional as possible.

I always find it fascinating when people seem to be more concerned with how things should be, than why things are a certain way. And what I think the screenshots of this game show very well, is that it is always indirect. This is the network of guanxi at a microscale. Everybody represents someone else, besides themselves. It is not only about their own hopes, but the sense of responsibility they feel towards other family members to put somebody on the spot.

Although I doubt this game will be played by those who would benefit the most from some self-reflection, perhaps it can serve as a practice to those who need to submit to this ritual every year. Maybe you find some new appreciation for your actual family members. Or discover that they are even worse than AI could imagine.