Notes from Ningbo

Communications and marketing officer at The University of Nottingham Ningbo China (UNNC), writing about the University, Ningbo and China.

[tesshumphrys]

After a rather downbeat last entry, it’s time to get a bit more cheerful – and talk cute, fluffy animals! More specifically, how to look after your cat in Ningbo.

One of the best things that’s happened to us since moving to Ningbo is acquiring our cat, Tyrion (yes, he’s named after the Game of Thrones character, geek alert). I say acquired because like a lot of ex-pats in China we happened across him – he was a three-month old former street kitten facing an uncertain future living in student dorms at the University. So we took him in temporarily (which, as was inevitable, very quickly turned into him becoming the king of the household and me not being able to imagine life without him).

Since then, we’ve learnt a lot about caring for a cat in Ningbo, so I thought I’d share my top tips here:

Find a good vet

We were lucky when we chanced upon Dr Song at Kang Li Animal Hospital, thanks to a Chinese colleague at work ringing all the vets surgeries in the local area for us. He speaks very good English and is kind to our beloved fleabag, who has also boarded at the surgery on a number of occasions when we’ve had no other options (I say this as he was confined to a cage, which is ok for short periods but not for longer). They also neutered him at around six months old, when other vets in Ningbo refused to do it before nine months (which is pretty old fashioned thinking).

No need to make an appointment, just turn up at:

Kang Li Animal Hospital 康丽宠物医院 72 He Cheng Road 贺丞路 72号 t: 0574 8788 3142

Dr Song has said he works practically every day, so with luck he’ll be there if you visit. If not, his other colleagues are nice and will help you as much as they can.

Work out how to use Taobao

While most larger supermarkets in Ningbo stock cat food and litter (Vanguard at InCity, Walmart at Wanda Plaza, Tesco, Auchan etc) it tends to be lower-quality Whiskers and the ilk. I prefer to feed Tyrion higher quality dry food, at least, so that’s where Taobao comes in. You can buy high-quality grain-free dry food by the enormous bag load, as well as alternative litter products and toys to keep frisky critters entertained.

Consider boarding them in Shanghai

I mentioned that Tyrion has stayed at Dr Song’s surgery before and that has been fine, but generally animal hospitals in Ningbo aren’t geared up to boarding cats, tending to take dogs only. For long holidays, we’ve taken the decision to head up to Shanghai on the bus (you can take cats in a bag with you onto the bus, just ignore the driver if he tries to insist you put them underneath with the luggage) and board him at Dr Beck and Stone. This international-standard vet has branches all over Shanghai but the one near Hongqiao (which is a short taxi-ride from the bus station) is pretty convenient. While their prices aren’t cheap, you can be assured that your cat is well-looked after during its stay. They can also help you get the right international vaccinations and blood tests you’ll need to eventually leave the country with your feline friend…

…Think about how you’ll get the out of China

At some point you’ll want to leave China so it pays to keep in mind the fact that the process for doing so will be long. Dr Beck and Stone can give guidance, as can the Shenpu Clinic in Shanghai, which is the only clinic in this part of China that is officially sanctioned to give rabies vaccinations to animals being taken out of the country. This is where you can also get a microchip fitted that will meet European standards (note – I haven’t found a local vet in Ningbo that is authorised to insert microchips to European standards yet), which is an essential part of the export process. My friend wrote this report about relocating her dog from China to the UK and while the contents of it are subject to change, it’s a good guide.

Again, no need for appointments at Shenpu just turn up. Most staff speak reasonable English and are used to foreigners going there to get their pet sorted for export:

Shenpu Clinic 上海出入境检验检疫局服务中心动物实验技术中心为申普宠物医院 565 Xujiahui Road 徐家汇路565号

Are you living in Ningbo with your moggy? Can you add any tips here?

[tesshumphrys]

A recent blog post on City Weekend surveyed expats in China about their motivations behind leaving (or staying) and this, coupled with a trip to the UK to attend my cousin’s wedding, has had me thinking about my own feelings about whether it’s time to say zaijian to the Middle Kingdom.

I’ve been in Ningbo for two years, which is on the low end of the time frame within which most of the expats surveyed choose to leave (25 months – 5 years). But, the thoughts are there and there are a number of reasons why I might choose to leave. Obviously I could (and probably should) write about all the reasons to stay in China – and there are a number! – but right now I’m feeling in a homesick mood so I’ll focus on the reasons for going:

Internet restrictions

The restrictions placed on the internet here are beginning to go from being an interesting cultural insight to being downright annoying.

While I’ve learnt to work around not having easy access to Facebook, Twitter, YouTube et al the restrictions also impact massively on my ability to do even the simplest of tasks, like look up train times for the UK or book an appointment online with Apple. This is because so many websites based outside of China use Google-based Javascript (for things like drop-down menus or comparison functionality) which either simply doesn’t work in China or is excruciatingly slow.

Additionally, in the last day or two mysterious forces have been attacking any website that uses Facebook Connect, redirecting you to wpkg.org. So now even sites that weren’t on the restricted list are inaccessible because they link to Facebook.

Very annoying and for someone working in marketing communications an inability to engage directly with and learn about online platforms that are being routinely used outside of China can only be of detriment when looking for work once I leave.

And so onto more about…

…Professional development

I came to China partly to experience what life here is like but also to develop professionally and while I think my experience here has been useful, there are a number of reasons why I would consider leaving for professional reasons:

In my current job, I’m managed within structures that are very different from those I am used to in the UK. Those above me, and who have a direct impact on my role, have very different ideas of what management is and what constitutes professional development. While this has at times been really interesting (and I’m sure will stand me in good stead in the future) it’s only now after two years that frustrations are coming to the fore. I’m beginning to have concerns about whether my time in China is useful from a professional point of view.

Marketing communications is a fast-moving industry and you can end up feeling a bit out of the loop when you’re in China, which is developing in a very different way to the UK (such as blocking most of the go-to social media channels those in the UK would regularly use). Assuming that I won’t remain in China forever (which certainly was never my intention) it can feel difficult to know how much of what I’m learning will actually be of use to me once I return to the ‘real world’.

Obviously for many expats finances are a huge consideration and I’m no different – the money I’m earning is good and costs mean I can live a life that I may not be able to in the UK. But, if I’m not keeping up with competitors for jobs outside of China will the higher earning potential now be eroded in the future? And will having experience of China actually make a difference to getting another job elsewhere?

Missing my family

I was interested to read in the City Weekend survey that missing family didn’t seem to be a motivator for people leaving China, as this is a constant consideration for me. Maybe I’m just soft but having to travel 6,000 miles to attend my cousin’s wedding, or missing out entirely on key family events or kids growing up, is getting tough to deal with.

And while the holidays, crazy experiences, money and friends in China are fantastic and amazing at times, how do you reconcile missing out on the lives of those you love in such a big way?

Are you based in China and are thinking of leaving? What motivates you to go? What keeps you here? I’d love to know your thoughts! 

[tesshumphrys]

Way back in 2012, when I told friends in Britain I was moving to China, among the many reactions I got was: “wow, cool China. Where you going? Beijing, Shanghai? Hong Kong (is that China?!)?”

When I told people I was moving to Ningbo, however, pretty much all drew a blank: “Ningbo, where’s that?” This was apart from one friend who had heard of the city because he works for DIY store B&Q and had seen a list of all the stores in China, including the one at Wanda Plaza. Still, he didn’t know any more than that.

I have to admit their lack of knowledge was understandable. I had no idea where Ningbo was until I applied for a job at The University of Nottingham Ningbo China (UNNC). And I still had no idea of the city’s significance even by the time I actually moved here.

Fast-forward two years and I’ve been surprised to realise just what an influence Ningbo has had, particularly on world history and trade.

When I tell foreign friends about Ningbo, I start by mentioning the city’s huge port, the starting point out into the world for huge amounts of the cheap goods produced in China. Imagine, I say to friends back in Britain, the vast quantities of ‘Made in China’ products you buy that have passed through Ningbo, all without you realising. Ningbo’s port is well-known across the globe. In fact, a couple of African international students at UNNC told me they knew about Ningbo purely from the ships carrying its name that enter the port in their hometown.

And it’s not just nowadays that Ningbo has been on the world trade map – it’s featured heavily on British maps as far back as the 19th Century thanks to its position on China’s eastern coast, giving easy access to Hangzhou’s tea trade and the trading opportunities available by accessing the Yangtze river. But, it wasn’t just goods coming out of Ningbo that interested the British, it was what they could get into the country that sealed the city’s fate for a period of time.

Most British people know that Hong Kong was once under British control, but few of my friends realise the connection Ningbo has with Britain. After the conclusion of the First Opium War in 1842 (where the British, rather shamefully, flooded China with opium to address trade imbalances between the two nations), Ningbo became one of five treaty ports that allowed the British to deal directly with Chinese traders, without using middlemen as had been the case up until then. This helped to massively increase British profits and deepened British interests in China. Ningbo, along with the other treaty ports, had a British Consul that had authority over the British residents and could negotiate directly with Chinese representatives in a way that had previously been difficult. You can still see the building that housed the British Consul at the port in Ningbo, a reminder of this shared past. While not the most positive time in Ningbo’s history – indeed the Treaty of Nanking that granted the British the five ports was an extremely one-sided agreement – it is fascinating to realise the connections between Ningbo and Britain, even before The University of Nottingham arrived here 10 years ago.

And while it remains to be seen whether Ningbo ever becomes well-known enough internationally to be thought of alongside Shanghai, Beijing et al, I certainly enjoy educating my foreign friends about its hidden significance.

This article originally appeared in Ningbo Guide, vol.9, issue 11, March 2015 as the winning essay in their monthly essay competition. 

[tesshumphrys]

Even after two years in China I still find the seemingly arbitrary rules and procedures that impact on life here frustrating.

Take, for instance, the fact that in some cities you’re not allowed more than one pet dog (sorry Fido no playmate for you) or that despite my British drivers licence giving me permission to drive in countless countries worldwide, I still have to take a written (note, not practical) exam before I’m allowed to drive in China.

My favourite illogical (and therefore most annoying) rule is that technically having two people on an e-bike, the electric motorcycle-type things that literally everyone and their granny rides here, is illegal. This is apparently because having more than one person on an e-bike is too dangerous, despite the fact that transporting horizontal ladders, farm animals, large collections of power tools, other e-bikes or a supply of vegetables so large you can’t actually steer is apparently perfectly OK.

On the flip side of all these rules is the almost total lack of enforcement of regulations. It’s another source of bewilderment – and fascination – for me as I learn which rules are imposed and which seem in place simply as guiding principles. Seemingly few people are bothered if no-one follows the rules, which makes them seem even more pointless. More often than not people ignore them, right up until, on the odd occasion, someone in a position of authority decides to actually stop them.

So, you regularly see people riding with two, three or possibly four people on an e-bike, along with the aforementioned material possessions. They get away with this until they are confronted by the infrequently-spotted “civilised traffic volunteers” (as their brightly-coloured T-shirts proclaim proudly).

These volunteers are predominately young people who are trying to pass their driving tests and, as part of the process, must take part in voluntary traffic management (mandatory ‘volunteering’ is another amusing element of life here).

At key times of the day, usually during 5-6pm rush hour traffic, the civilised traffic volunteers are stationed at the traffic lights of large crossroads and intersections, marshalling pedestrians and generally bothering e-bike riders by telling them that having two passengers is “very dangerous” and that one of them must get off before they’re allowed to proceed.

But people have got wise to these red and yellow-clad, flag-waving, do-gooders. If you can time your ride right, so that you don’t need to stop for the traffic lights, you can sail right past them, the word “dangerous” wafting on the breeze as you go, safe in the knowledge that because e-bikes are unregistered, no-one can come and find you. In your face rules!

Others take a different approach, obediently obeying the volunteers’ request – the passenger gets off, walks across the intersection to just beyond the crossroad before meeting their driver, who has also crossed the road, and jumping straight back on the e-bike ready to face the volunteers stationed at the next crossroads.

Now, I admit I’m not above a bit of rule breaking myself and have learnt to copy the avoidance tactics going on around me. The last time I did so, I jumped back on my e-bike, which was being driven by my boyfriend, amid a cackling gang of other rule breakers all hopping back on their rides and laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Or perhaps they were chuckling because a couple of laowais had got wise to the rules of the rule breaking.

The post Rules and how to break them in China appeared first on Tess Humphrys.

[tesshumphrys]

I recently took a trip to Xuedou Temple 雪窦寺 near Xikou, about half an hour’s drive south of Ningbo’s Yinzhou district.

While it is possible to get to Xikou by bus from Ningbo south bus station, we opted to share a private driver between four of us.

The temple, which is one of the 10 most important Zen temples in the world, houses the impressive big copper Maitreya buddha. At 56.74 metres high, he is the largest version of that particular (big smiling) buddha in the world, and his whole body has symbolic meanings: his forehead symbolises wisdom, his eyes represent infinite mercy, his drooping ears and smile life and happiness, his bare chest and shoulders honesty and his big belly tolerance. You can climb the 300 steps up to see him up close and touch his massive toes (to bring luck and good fortune).

The temple complex, which sits among beautiful mountains, is pretty big – its central Longhua Square is apparently big enough to fit 10,000 people! Luckily there were nowhere near that number of people on the day we visited.

Entrance into Xuedou Temple is 90 RMB per person, which I felt was a bit steep, but it was a pleasantly quiet place to while away a few hours. If you want to gain the extra ‘good fortune’ that touching the buddha’s tootsies will bring you, you’ll need to pay (oh the irony) an extra 20 RMB.

You can combine a visit to the temple with a trip to Xikou town itself, famous for being the birthplace and early home of Chiang Kai-shek, who was the leader of China from 1928 until the Communist Party took over in 1949.

The post A day trip to Xuedou Temple, Xikou, Ningbo appeared first on Tess Humphrys.

[tesshumphrys]

Escaping the Golden Week crowds: cycling in Yunnan

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve read, or been told, that travelling in China during public holidays is a big no-no, that the hordes of people returning home or getting away on holiday would make for an agonising reminder of just how many people inhabit this country.

Sound advice for tourists trying to decide which time of year is best to visit. But what do you do if you live here, also have the holiday from work and want to explore China while you have the chance?

You do something that the average Chinese tourist doesn’t want to do. So, you don’t go on a bus tour to a national park just to take a few pics before jumping back on; you don’t try and get on a train from a major station during the peak travel times, and you certainly don’t head to West Lake in Hangzhou to get stuck in endless human tailbacks across once-beautiful bridges.

Instead, you cycle up mountains, in high altitude through endless spectacular scenery. You drive far enough from the areas of organised tourism hell that the only beings you see are villagers and yaks. In short, you head to Yunnan and forget that there’s even a public holiday going on.

We spent the October Golden Week holiday this year cycling with tour operator Bike Lijiang, who devised us an itinerary that showcased the natural splendour of China’s most south-western province as well as avoided the crowds as much as possible. Ours was a private tour with the coffee-mad Chao leading us on the bikes and the easy-going Xiaodong as our support driver (and believe me, I needed the support car!)

Our route covered:

Start outside Lijiang at Bike Lijiang’s excellent Lodge and Clubhouse accommodation

Lijiang > Shangri-La, 45km cycling (rest of journey in the car)

Shangri-La, sightseeing around the city, including the beautiful Songzanlin Lamasery and giant prayer wheel

Shangri-La > Haba village, 17km cycling (rest of journey in the car)

Haba village > Tiger Leaping Gorge, 32km cycling (rest of journey in the car)

Tiger Leaping Gorge, 10km hike along the gorge

Tiger Leaping Gorge > Lijiang, 22km cycling (rest of journey in the car) and a brief visit to an extremely busy Lijiang

It was the first time we’d attempted a cycling holiday and although I like to think I’m relatively fit, I admit I found the high altitude (ranging from 2,400 to 3,500 metres above sea-level) and the mountainous terrain tough going. But oh, what a way to appreciate the vast beauty of the landscape and the lives of its inhabitants! A lot has already been written about Yunnan’s virtues, and I won’t repeat the platitudes here, but suffice to say it lives up to expectations.

Check out some landscape photos from the trip.

And the best thing about the trip? Virtually no people and certainly none of the horror stories you hear about travelling during a public holiday. Only really the last day, as we made our way back to the well-known tourist town of Lijiang, was affected by the volume of tourists. After days in the quiet surroundings of middle Tiger Leaping Gorge, where the loudest noise came from the thundering rapids of the Jinshan River, it was a shock to the system to encounter a seemingly endless stream of coaches and cars snaking their way up the gorge to a viewing platform at the southern end. Luckily, the tour had been planned so that we were on our way down the gorge as this cavalcade was on its way up, but still it was a reminder of just how busy certain areas do get during these national holiday periods.

So, for all you non-believers out there, you can travel in China during the holidays - you just need to do a bit of advance planning, get off the beaten track and onto your bike! 

[tesshumphrys]

Songzanlin Lamasery and giant prayer wheel, Shangri-La, Yunnan, China.

[tesshumphrys]

Scenes from our cycling trip in Yunnan, China.

[tesshumphrys]

Temple detail, Shangri-La, Yunnan, China.

[tesshumphrys]

Butter tea, yak milk yoghurt and zanba (qingke barley) flour cake, Yunnan, China.

[tesshumphrys]

Honoured to say that a piece that originally appeared on this very blog has been reproduced in local newspaper Southeast Business, as part of the series 'Foreigners' Impressions of Ningbo'. It's been edited slightly weirdly, but it's cool nonetheless to see my words published here in China. 

I wrote a long time ago about choosing my Chinese name and it's interesting to see how the by-line has been tackled in this piece. 

Here they've gone for the phonetic treatment of my name 苔丝 汉弗莱斯 Táisī Hànfúláisī. Apparently this way of writing 'Tess' has become standard thanks to the book 'Tess of the D'Ubervilles' being quite popular in China!  

[tesshumphrys]

Recently, I took a trip to a furniture factory up in Cixi, about an hour's drive north of Ningbo. 

One of the fascinating things about being in China - and Ningbo in particular - is being at the starting point for international trade and the mind-blowingly complex process of how things are made in China and then come to be sold in shops in Sheffield or Evesham or wherever. Whereas normally I'd be in England buying the things that travel half-way around the world from China, nowadays I get to see and buy them before they've even left. 

We visited Cixi Dynasty Furniture Co. Ltd, which was located in the dusty outskirts of Cixi. Like many Chinese cities, Cixi is a mess of concrete, construction and factories. Next door to our destination were dozens of others producing rubber, plastics, car parts etc.

The owner of Dynasty, Jason Wang (who spoke incredible English), was kind enough to let us visit to buy small amounts of furniture - usually there's a minimum of three of each piece. He said that each month they ship at least nine full-size shipping containers over to Europe, stocked with both Chinese and generic 'Western'-style furniture (it always amuses me to think of who's coming up with this all-encompassing style, which apparently appeals to millions of people despite their wide-ranging cultural backgrounds). This furniture is then sold by the buyers to other sellers or directly to customers, at a hefty mark-up. 

The factory was full of great, beautifully-made pieces and it was fun wandering around, particularly the Chinese-style stuff, finding nice investment pieces to remind us of our time in China. We chose a little yellow cabinet (which you can see on one of the above pictures) with hand-painted butterflies and a rather grand red sideboard, which now houses the oh-so-important Nespresso Machine.

The prices of the pieces were also incredible - a glass-fronted, solid oak dresser would set you back around 3,000 RMB, which is roughly 300 GBP. You'd be lucky if you found the same piece for twice the price back in England.

The factory seemed like a relatively pleasant place to work, but I was under no illusion that the people making these beautiful pieces of furniture do so at a price that bears no resemblance to the amount we end up paying for it in England - along the way everyone takes their cut, but it's the guys in factories like this one that are working almost non-stop (they have two days off a month) so that we can have an impressive sideboard or expansive dining table.  And that really is one motivation for trying to go directly to the source of the process by visiting factories while I'm here - at least the money I spend is passing through fewer hands before the guys at the bottom are given their share.

[tesshumphrys]

A weekend getaway from Ningbo - Danshan Chishui

Ningbo has some beautiful scenic spots in the mountains surrounding the city, not least wonderful Danshan Chishui - an area of beautiful mountains, bamboo forests and quaint villages. It lies around one and a half hour's drive from Ningbo, up into the Siming mountain range which lies to the north-west of the city.

Like all scenic spots in the area, you need your own transport to access and explore it, making it fairly tricky for non-driving ex-pats to get to.

To counter this, we stayed at the fairly newly-opened Persimmon Lodges, a collection of gorgeous Swedish-style wooden chalets that have been built on the outskirts of an ancient village and come with all the mod-cons you need for a comfortable rural break from the city. The team running the lodges can also arrange transport for groups from Ningbo (prepare yourself for a breathtakingly twisty-turny journey up through the mountains) or a pick-up from Yuyao train station.

The chalets are nestled among uplifting views of mountains, river valley, persimmon trees (when we were there, they were covered in the most exquisite pink blossoms) and bamboo forests, which just beg to be explored by foot. The walking is good, although like many scenic areas in China you will be following pre-determined concrete paths. We went hiking around the area, which wasn't too overcrowded with other visitors. However, don't come expecting some empty rural idyll away from the company of others - the fact that it's a designated scenic area means that there are plenty of weekend visitors.

Additionally, there's a lovely temple where the priests treated us to a wonderful display of tai chi.

The village itself is a lovely example of rural Chinese living, still alive and functioning much as it would have, although as more and more tourism comes to the area who knows how long that will last. Meanwhile, the locals (who seem to be mainly older folk) are extremely friendly and most are happy to attempt conversations with baffled loawais in their indecipherable Yuyao dialect. Others merely watch quietly as you pass, presumably curiously amused as to why we strange people would want to come and gawk at their unassuming little village.

Food is available at the village's handful of little restaurants, as well as from the fantastic 'egg man' who sells fresh eggs and tasty, tasty salted, boiled potatoes and tea-stained boiled eggs. There's also a cafe at the bottom of the hill in the second area of lodges, which overlooks the river and serves passable Western-style food (even if the service doesn't really live up to Western expectations, but hey this is China). We, however, chose to take our own food along with disposable BBQs for lunch in the sunshine, surrounded by awe-inspiring views of the valley below. You can check out my photos of the lodges and the surrounding area, as well as the ancient village on separate posts. 

[tesshumphrys]

Danshan village, Siming mountain range, Zhejiang province, China.

[tesshumphrys]

Persimmon Lodges and surrounding area, Danshan Chishui, Siming mountain range, China.

[tesshumphrys]

Hi! did you see any face-kinis at these outdoor pools?

So firstly I had to Google (or, more accurately Bing thanks to internet restrictions here in China) what a facekini was…and secondly no I didn’t see any unfortunately!!Weather was kinda overcast so perhaps people didn’t think they needed them that day?! 

[whatdougdoes]

Not a bad place to wake up!

[tesshumphrys]

I need to know where this is!!