The Exception

To every rule there is an exception. Naturally, Inability-to-plan-itis is not immune to this phenomenon. In this case, the exception is what any Chinese English-speaker would call “performances.” As someone who is fluent in Chinglish, I would translate “performance” as “a variety show” in standard English. The Chinese have no problem planning their beloved performances far in advance and as long as they hold a particular performance in high regard, it will go off without a hitch. (Note: In Chinglish, a performance is made up of many small performances. Please don’t be confused.)

Variety show is, in my opinion, the best way to describe these performances. There is always a few host and hostess that introduce the extremely varied acts. At first I thought that signing, dancing, and putting on skits were acceptable acts for a Chinese performance. I later learned, however, that a fashion show and “an interesting conversation with a very handsome man” are fabulous ideas for performances as well. The Chinese also love a performance where one student sits behind a chair and talks, while a second student sits on the chair and acts out what the other students is saying. This is by far the most confusing type of performance to a westerner. I haven’t met one who understands why that is funny.

The day Amy and the other school officials picked Kelly, Ryan, and I up in Changsha, Kelly and I were told that we should prepare a performance for the New Year’s Eve party. Although we were ignorant at the time, this announcement should have clued us in to how important performances are in Zhuzhou. The school is unable to tell us more than a few hours in advance that school is cancelled for the day, but they know months in advance that a performance will be held on December 31st, and that Kelly and I will star in it. Oh, Inability-to-plan-itis!

A few days before Christmas, my friend Bridget invited me to a performance at Nanfang Middle School, where she is one of the foreign teachers. This was only my first real taste of Chinese performances and should have been my second warning as to what I had been signed up for on New Year’s Eve.

When we arrived at Nanfang’s Christmas performance security guards were stationed at the doors of the gymnasium to keep the older students out and to let all the little primary school students who were caked in makeup in. This was a serious matter. The place was packed with the primary and junior school students, more than I could imagine. As a foreigner, I was given a place of honor at the front and a lovely wallet as a Christmas gift, even though I have no connection with the school. For the next three hours I was treated to a string of acts put on by the students of the school. A rock band with 12 guitars, skits in Chinese and English, a fashion show, and dance groups ranging from exercise routines, break dancing, children’s dancing, and dancing far to sexy for any American high school filled out the program. It was a fun evening and it should have tipped me off as to what to expect at the Jing Yan’s New Year’s Eve performances.

In the morning of December 31st, Kelly and I walked with the 3,000 students in our school about a half of a mile through town to a Factory 602 (inventive, I know). Once there, we entered the basketball gym where a stage had been set up for the occasion. For the next three hours, a select group of students put on a show for their peers. I have to admit that these performances were not as interesting as those as my last performance. The students were competing in some type of competition that I was never really able to figure out. For some reason the same kids appeared on stage over and over again. Additionally, the number of skits and other language-based acts were a lot larger at this performance than at Nanfang. Chinese language skits are only interesting for so long. This wasn’t even the show that Kelly and I were instructed to perform in. That one was in the afternoon!

Later that day, Kelly and I went to the Huatian Hotel, the nicest in Zhuzhou, for the teacher’s performance. The acts were more of the same type of thing. I participated in a skit with the Junior 1 teachers and well as sang a song with Kelly. We decided to sing a song that was popular in Europe in 2003 and is now popular among Chinese middle school students and in the clubs called “God is a Girl.” I’m not sure how we did. While some teachers complimented us on our singing, I don’t really think it was a hit. We’re beginners at this whole performance thing.

Whatever you call Chinese performances – boring, mildly ridiculous, overdone, silly – you can’t call them disorganized. These shows are planned at least weeks in advance and often the highlight of a particular holiday season. One has to wonder why these performances so important and how they get planned so well. Nobody plans anything else throughout the year, so how does it all get done? And if things can be organized for this one event, why can’t it be done for other things, like the school calendar? Oh China! Oh Inability-to-plan-itis!