Power!

There is little doubt in my mind that every human being is aware of the suffering and pain that is caused everyday by powerful people, powerful companies and powerful institutions. Pain and suffering that could so easily be avoided if only the people at the centre of these 'powerful machines' opened their eyes, hearts and minds and decided that people and all the associated emotions, feelings, wishes and desires are more important than the dollar.

But this is a funny thing. Why do we sit back and wait for the these powerful few to take pity on us, wait for them to realise their mistakes. Why don't we stand-up and fight against them; buck their system; demand change; demand a better life for ourselves and our children?

Oh, that's right, they are too powerful; they call the shots.

Bullshit!

It seems to me that power is not gained, it is given.

People, companies and institutions are powerful because we allow them to be. Whether it's your partner, McDonald's or the Government, the reason they have power is because we, the masses, give them that power. We allow them to dictate what we want and how we want it. We allow them to control our thoughts, desires and dreams. And in doing so, we make them powerful.

Then once we are depleted, we sit back, resigned to our 'destiny' and claim there is nothing we can do.

Bullshit.

The problem is that we have been supplying power to the 'powerful' for so long that we have been sucked into their reality. A reality where personal wealth, safety and security are more important than the overall well-being of our fellow man. We may often get upset, angry and frustrated by the state of our world, but when push comes to shove, we look after ourselves first, after all, who would benefit if I make a protest and quit my job because of their unfair policies. No one, because I'm just one person, a single individual who is easily replaced.

You see, this is what they want you to think. This is how they continue to feed off our power. You are not living in isolation. You are part of a massive ecosystem, where your thoughts, words and actions are powerful. When you speak, people will listen. When you act, people will follow.

But here's the clincher - you MUST speak out, you MUST act.

Do not allow fear to get in the way of your conscience. And do not allow the powerful to exercise your power against you.

Only once we all realise this. Once we all break free from their spell, will we be able to create a world that we want and love.

ACL – Beijing Style

The below can be found on 'back-of-the-net.com'

Pre-match warm-up

In order to score good seats, I wandered down to the stadium early on match day to purchase the tickets from ‘the gate’; the early worm and all that. I could have been even earlier and secured the tickets online or something, but that task seemed about as easy in Beijing as finding the lost city of Atlantis with a snorkel and dolphin touch. No, this one was convenience all the way, and anyway, how many punters were really going to turn out on a chilly Beijing evening to see Guoan take on The Jets (the powerhouses of international football that they are!)

I strolled up to the security guard who was guarding the main entrance gate Chinese style (that is to say, he was all dressed up in a beautifully manicured uniform, but slumped on a stool playing video games on his phone) and asked where the ticket booth was. He gave me a huge smile, and started waving his arm like a cricket umpire announcing another Ponting boundary. At that exact moment, I heard a small rumble and when I turned I was nearly trampled by about 25 scalpers.

They were yelling and screaming, and pulling me this way and that, they all had the best deal and could all offer me more. Not convinced, I made my way to the booth, well, I say booth but I mean trestle table with a picture of the seating outline taped to it, and two very bored and disinterested young guys sitting behind it. As I approached, they waved me away, and simply pointed back to the gaggle of scalpers. Fair enough too, no need to sell direct when you’ve just unloaded most of the tickets onto the black market.

After about 15 minutes of negotiation, not over the price, but rather to secure 3 tickets with sequential numbering, I was holding in my hand three glorious Category A tickets (sequential) for the princely sum of RMB150 (approx AUD36). Bargain!

Funny thing about the sequential seating; the scalper just couldn’t comprehend why I wanted them. My Chinese is sketchy at best, but he seemed at a complete loss! Still realising that the sequential seats was the clincher for the sale he sorted it out for me. This was, of course, a warning sign but I missed it.

I had no doubt the scalper’s tickets were legit. I mean sure, they were on flimsy paper, and had the seat numbers stamped on, but its China right, no drama. That was of course until I met up with some friends pre-match, and noticed their tickets were card-board, printed and clearly had been purchased from an official ‘booth’ that more than likely had a roof! Still, it’s China right…no drama!

Kick-off

I should have known better. Never, repeat, NEVER agree to meet up with non-football fans before a match. Firstly, because you spend the whole time explaining what the ACL is, what a league is, how you qualify, why it’s important, and YES football is popular in Australia, just not in your rugby orientated mind… and why are you wearing a Wallabies Jersey again?

Too late; the mistake was made. Don’t get me wrong they are all lovely, and I guess its more people that are being introduced to football and so, more people that may support it when they return to Oz. But the main reason you should never meet up with non-football fans before the game is because they don’t understand the importance of getting to a stadium that you have never been to before early to; a) soak up the atmosphere and b) find your seat.

Needless to say, we missed the kick-off. I was running up the stairs when I heard the whistle blow. Not happy.

Interestingly, at the top of the stairs I suddenly realised two things; firstly, if you remove ‘most’ of the people from Beijing, that still leaves a lot of people. Hence, whilst most of the people in Beijing have no interest in local football, there are still a lot that do. So many in fact that even after you remove the very poor (who can’t afford tickets), the people that hate the cold, and those that prefer to watch the Beautiful Game on TV or in the pub, Beijing Guoan can still pull a crowd of over 30,000 screaming fans. Unbelievable!

The second thing was why the scalper couldn’t understand my insisting on sequential seating. As it turns out, your ticket is for the bay only, once in, it’s every man for himself and as we arrived moments after kick-off, the steward smiled and pointed to the top of the stand… the nose bleeds. This was going to be the true long march!

Luckily, another steward took pity on us and pointed us to three cheeky seats down near the front of the first tier hidden amongst the masses, with a cracking view and surrounded by some seriously noisy fans. Things were starting to look up.

We managed to squeeze our way past the people who arrived early and so had better seats closer to the aisle and settle in just in time for Beijing’s latest Aussie import to slot home a lovely goal and put Guoan one up, and send the fans around the stadium into a complete frenzy.

The Match

As a general rule Chinese people are both patriotic and reserved. The former is clear at a football match, as they cheer and chant with every touch of the ball for the home team. The latter is not so obvious as they hurl unbridled abuse at the away team with every touch. Now I’m not just talking about the usual taunts, of ‘go home’, ‘you’re rubbish’ etc, but nasty, racist and sometimes just down right rude comments. For a long time they were chanting “big nose” and “donkey penis”. The first insult is obvious, but I’m still at a loss how suggesting a man has a penis like a donkey’s is insulting.

No-one, except the Guoan players (many of whom are big noses and donkey penis’ themselves) were immune from the chants. The referee, as one would expect, received several choruses of “sha bi” (excuse the spelling) which means in English… well… ahh… let’s just say it rhymes with punt.

I know what you’re thinking, it’s the same everywhere; people fall into the group mentality and go mental. They become momentary thugs and racists as the emotion of the moment takes over. And I agree, it’s just whilst Beijingers are emotional, they very rarely show it, and it is pretty unheard of that anyone except a taxi driver would drop the C-word in the company of anyone except their drinking buddies. But on that chilly Beijing evening, even the young kid sitting on front of us, was chanting whilst occasionally smiling at his father.

Ah football… what does it do to us?

Of course, Beijing being Beijing, it wasn’t all aggression and racism. In fact, there was a large contingent of the crowd that were fantastic and completely taken in the moment. Naturally the die-hards were behind the goal and managed to sing, chant, wave flags and do the ‘bouncy bouncy’ throughout the whole game. But the best fans, and this is something that is possibly unique to Beijing, were the “child-like” adults; the grown men that would giggle like school girls as they punched the giant beach ball back into the air, or the old men, getting angry because the next bay failed to continue the wave. This is why I love Beijing and love going to any sporting event held here. The crowd is devoted to their team and also able to release and have a good time. Granted that comes with some bad elements, but for the most part its hilarious and fun to be a part of.

I would love to comment here on the Jets fans that travelled half way around the world to support their team, and show the Guoan punters what true devotion is. But alas, if there were any there, I didn’t see them. Despite a heavy security presence in the ‘away’ section behind the goal, there was not one single Jets jersey amongst the green of the security uniforms. Poor show Jets, poor show.

Post Match

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but for some reason I absolutely loved watching The Jets get pumped by an equally poor Guoan outfit. Let’s not beat around the bush, the game was poor, neither looked particularly impressive and beside a few good runs by the Guoan players there was very little happening. I know I should have been supporting my countrymen, but the reality is I’m a Sydney fan – fullstop.

There is nothing better that watching players your team has rejected play horrendously bad on the world stage. I know, I know, if Petrovski had slotted home late the in second half (and he should have, it was a massive sitter) I would have been claiming that he was a Sydney man originally. But still, he missed and we were right to shift him. As for poor ‘old’ Topor Stanley, I thought he was OK, but the crowd seemed to hate him. They booed his every touch. I like to think that the instant hatred was nothing more sinister that the fact that he’s rubbish and was wearing the dreaded number 4 (never underestimate the power of a number).

This game was clear evidence of the power of the ACL. If 32,000 devoted punters can turn out on a chilly Beijing school night to watch their side pump a ‘not-at-the-top-of-their-game’ Jets side, then imagine the draw for Guoan vs Urawa Red Diamonds, with all that simmering hatred between the Chinese and Japanese. They’d be erecting outdoor screens across the city for that clash.

All we need now is to develop a bigger Australian travelling contingent and, oh yeah, more competitive A-league sides!

A quick word on face.

I'm sure you have all heard people talk about 'face' and the saving thereof, when others discuss Asian cultures. After 8 months in Beijing I have encountered the concept of face and had to deal with its bizarre ramifications a few times. But yesterday, Skye and I were presented with the perfect example of the bizarre mind-set that Beijing "Face" creates, and i believe the perfect way to explain it to people from outside a 'face' culture.

Yesterday Skye and I went to a Chinese cooking class (it was fantastic by the way! thank you Fairweathers and Hobbs'). During the seasoning and knife work section of the class, we were rudely interrupted by what sounded like a massive tree smashing against the roof of the beautifully old Hutong house and kitchen in which we were working. The whole building shook with the force of the blow.

Our teacher, shocked by the noise and a little concerned about the well-being of her home/workplace went to investigate. Now, neither of us speaks Chinese, nor did the two other blokes taking the class, but what we heard went something like this:

Teacher: "excuse me kind sir, I have several people next door working, and I would appreciate that you were a little more careful when pruning your trees"

Neighbour: SCREAMING "shut up, I didn't mean to do it, how dare you come here and tell me off for something i didn't mean to do, get the hell out of here, you idiot"

Teacher: "thank you, please just be more careful"

Neighbour: SCREAMING: "DIE YOU IDIOT DIE!!!!!!!"

(please note, this is a dialog was based on the tone of the conversation, the decibel level, and the look of shock on the teacher's face when she returned, NOT on my understanding of Chinese language)

Naturally, when the teacher returned, we all had a giggle at the expense of the retard neighbour and how quite clearly he is a mental patient. And, with that, we continued on learning about the wonders of Soy Sauce.

However, the crazy neighbour didn't stop, he was still yelling, even though there appeared to be no one out there with him. Then, "BANG!"

the front door gets kicked in, and its the neighbour, completely unhinged and threatening to kill everyone and smash the place up, except, what he probably didn't realise is that the tiny little teacher wasn't alone in her little kitchen, and so just as he prepared to burst through the door and "sort the situation out", he was confronted by 4 foreigners, 3 of them men, and all of them standing in shock holding massive meat cleavers!!!

Luckily, he made the wise decision to retreat, and just yell from outside. Our teacher, an old hand at dealing with Beijingers, simply slammed the door in his face and bolted it shut.

This commotion and carry-on was the result, not of the tree falling on the house, but rather because the neighbour, needing to protect his Face and manhood, could not admit he made a mistake. So, rather than simply saying to the teacher, "yeah sorry, I dropped the ball with that one, won't happen again", he takes the offensive and tries to demonstrate to everyone who will listen that she is mental, and crazy and attacking him for no reason.

I mean after all, what sort of weirdo would come and investigate a massive tree smashing against their roof? why wouldn't they just accept that the person cutting down the tree didn't mean it, and its all OK... why cause a fuss?

Face makes some people mental, beyond all belief.

It seems that very few people here have figured out that in saving your own face, you end up making a complete tit out of yourself. It's like the person who doesn't like to be the centre of attention and hates the spotlight, so instead of making the speech, bursts into tears in the middle of the room and then storms out all snot and wailing. That is, they end up getting exactly what they didn't want.

This idiot was no different. He made a complete and monumental tit of himself and in my opinion lost the respect of everyone that lives within that hutong, and the respect of all of you, because his behaviour is now on my blog. What a complete knob! All this rubbish because he has no idea how to cut down a tree!

The concept of face is yet another example of the contradictions of Beijing. That said, it made for a bit of excitement, and another entry to the blog, and for that I am grateful. And, more importantly opened my eyes to another interesting aspect of the human condition, something I am becoming more and more interested in.