Food Culture and Masculinity in China: Surviving as a Vegetarian

When I went to live in China for three weeks, I knew that being a vegetarian would be hard. All of the blog posts I read warned me of the lack of options, difficulty in communicating dietary needs, and frustration with the lack of translations on menus and in stores. Only a few articles discussed China's Buddhist history and praised China's openness to vegetarians. With my handy printed copies of Chinese words and characters and pictures of animals with red X'ed circles, I went out prepared to let everyone know "wo chi su" - I eat vegetables. What I wasn't prepared for was how many of my food decisions weren't made for me - and how masculinity and food culture are intertwined in Beijing, China.

Flight into China.

Before I elaborate on the previous statement, I do want to say that I greatly enjoyed my time in China, am grateful for the opportunity, and am deeply indebted to my hosts there and the many friends that I made. This post is not about my overall experience, but about the unique difficulties I had as a lacto-ovo vegetarian (no meat, fish, or poultry, yes to eggs and dairy) in Beijing. The food I did have was delicious and I think future vegetarian travelers (and travelers in general) can benefit from learning more about Chinese food culture.

At many of the restaurants I went to in China, large groups were given private rooms with huge round tables with a rotating plate in the center. Family-style restaurants are usually a niche market in the US, but it was the standard practice for Chinese restaurants. In those settings, the communal nature of China brought me face-to-face with my own individualistic tendencies. Even in the US, family-style means taking food from communal pots and placing it on individual plates. We had personal plates in China, but more often than not, the people at the table would take food directly from the communal plates into the mouth. The most dexterous man I saw would pop individual peanuts covered in sauce from the bowl to his mouth without dropping a single one. Those who use have tried using chopsticks know how difficult this is. The avoidance of personal plates signified that the meal was everyone's. There was no "hoarding" of favorite plates or claiming ownership over food by amassing it in front of you. Instead, everyone was patient, waited for the food to rotate, and grabbed what we needed as it passed.

Picture of fermented egg on tofu, a vegetarian Chinese specialty.

For me, it could be a long wait for what I needed to come around, and a few times I felt compelled to break the personal plate rule and accumulate stray mushrooms and pieces of eggplant. At a communal table, there was no individually-owned items, so everyone took from meat dishes and vegetarian ones, even if I could only take from a few. For the Chinese, this wasn't an issue because over-ordering is the norm. No plates are ever left completely empty - it is considered rude. So instead, the staff will dump the remaining pieces on one shared plate to save space for the many more dishes to come. On many occasions, vegetable dishes that were ordered had meat sauces, chunks, or components. I completely understand the need to be flexible when traveling, but for someone who was raised vegetarian, those dishes can make me extremely sick.

My blog post promised some musings about masculinity and patriarchy - and here it comes. The Chinese food culture was communal, but the head of the table was the boss. During our first meal in China, a fellow American sat at the back seat facing the door. I think this is a common practice in the US, as it is the most difficult seat to get to, so if often taken first to avoid inconveniencing others. Our advisor, however, encouraged him to move, unless he "wanted to pick up the tab" for our table of 15. The host paid the bill for the entire table; "splitting" checks was not common, but sometimes at smaller outings we would throw money into a communal payment pot. For the three weeks I was in China, the host was female one time, when we dined with the director of the school the group was teaching at. The other nights were all male hosts who oftentimes spoke little to no English. This made communicating to them my dietary concerns quite difficult and I sometimes felt that my request was treated flippantly or as unimportant.

Picture of the Night Market in Beijing, where they sold scorpions, snakes, starfish, and many other things on a stick.

What the hosts ordered, we had to eat and drink, including alcohol when it was not desired. We were told when to take food, when to drink, and how much of what we could have. I was offered meat (usually Peking Duck) many, many times, and found it difficult to explain to my hosts why I refused their very generous offers. A few hosts got quite upset and raised their voices while my advisor tried to explain the situation and encouraged me to try "just a little bit" to appease the hosts. I don't fault anyone for the situation; it's really a classic case of cultural clash and miscommunication. It's rude for me to refuse food and drink in Chinese culture; it's rude for people to force food and drink on people who don't want it in American culture. For both cultures, it's a matter of respect, either to the hierarchy of the community, or the power of the individual.

I saw, very often, women at the table, including myself, struggling to refuse alcohol. Chinese dinners, especially business ones, were filled with alcohol. And it was no one's choice when to drink but the host, who would stand, make a speech, and demand that everyone finish their glass. To not follow the call of "gānbēi!" by downing your drink was considered a rejection of the toaster's well-wishes. Furthermore, the host and other guests would often move around the table and toast everyone individually - meaning a toaster could go through a shot of alcohol (caled baiju) for each guest present. The male hosts were often complimentary to the female guests' looks, which emphasized my and my other American female companion's "exoticness." Those hosts would often touch, hug, or try to kiss us, as complete strangers, without warning.

I greatly enjoyed my time in China, but dinners were often wrought with nerves. Would the host order something I could eat? Would this meal have "secret meat" in it? Would we do a lot of toasts? Would I be given baiju instead of something I want to drink? Would the host make advances on myself or my friend? Would the host get angry if I refused his offer of Peking duck? If there were vegetarian food, would other people eat it before I could have any?

Obligatory panda photo

My favorite foods in China were the stewed eggplant, assorted mushrooms (sometimes called tree and ground fungus), and baozi (vegetable filled and steamed buns). I greatly enjoyed their variety of fruits such as jackfruit (inspiration for Juicy Fruit gum) and trying interesting-tasting fruit like durian. It was an adventure that I will never forget and I hope to go back soon. The food culture, in particular, made me reflect on the differences between China and America and the challenges of establishing a global community.

Pedagogy Experiments: Grading in Public Speaking

In the beginning of Summer 2015, I taught COMM 204: Public Speaking to ten amazing undergraduate students. We tackled many important topics, such as logical fallacies, overcoming communication anxiety, and building sound, reasoned arguments. A few weeks before the course, one of my friends and colleagues, Kari Storla, forwarded me an article about autonomy and self-grading in the classroom. My first thought was dismay, shock, and disgust - let students....grade...themselves? It seemed like a ridiculous and pointless idea.

Image retrieved from this site.

But, after my gut reaction passed, I thought that public speaking might be the perfect course to tackle this interesting and innovative idea. I drafted a 25/25/50 rule: each student self-graded up to 25 points, the peer grades were averaged out of 25, and I provided the remaining 50. The article noted that few professors give scores below 50%. If 50% is given automatically, why not give the students some autonomy and control over that experience? I gave it a shot and this is what happened.

Overall, I found that the students were quite fair to themselves and their classmates. With the knowledge that everyone was peer-grading, there was a collective dependence on giving everyone decent scores. I averaged grades and all scores were anonymous, but the students still felt responsible for creating a supportive and welcoming environment. Even when comments were quite harsh, "This didn't really address the prompt, not sure I understood it," students (except for 1) still never graded below a 20/25. Across all speeches, there was agreement between the student self grade and the peer grade. Students, on average, gave themselves a 23.6 and the class gave them a 23.4. Even given the opportunity, only 1 student gave themselves perfect 25/25 across all 4 speeches. This same student also received the highest peer grades and the highest score in the course, despite the student having the third highest score from myself, on average.

Image retrieved from this site.

There were no statistically significant differences between grades and a student's race, but there were some interesting patterns. The top three peer graded students were Caucasian while the lowest three were students of color. Overall, though, the peer grades spanned 24.4 to 22.8, a difference of 6%, which could bump a student half a grade. The students of color were also more likely to give themselves lower peer grades. For example, the lowest average self grades, 22.25/25, 22.88/25, and 23.50/25 were all students of color (and two international students). One student (briefly mentioned above) gave consistent low scores to two students of color, averaging a 19.3/25 and 18.2/25. These discrepancies and outlying scores did not affect the overall student average nor did it vary significantly from peers. Because of the low number of students in the class, teachers may want to keep potential biases in mind (for themselves and students participating in peer grading).

Image retrieved from this site.

The self- and peer- grading was done through an app that I previously wrote a post about: Socrative. In the past, I used this app for pop quizzes and anonymous feedback, but in Public Speaking, I used it for immediate scoring of students after speeches. I did not allow technology use during speeches, but started the Socrative quiz for students to give feedback out of 25, with both positive comments and constructive criticism.

I also used Socrative to asked students how they liked the self- and peer- grading. In response to the questions, "I like the method of self and peer grading in COMM 204 this summer," all students responded "Agree" or "Strongly Agree." In response to "I felt like I had more control over my grade because of the self and peer grading policy," I only had 2 neutrals, with the rest "Agree" and "Strongly Agree." In response to "The self and peer grading makes the grading process more fair than just having a teacher grade," I had one neutral response and the rest "Agree" and "Strongly Agree." I had the same one neutral student in response to "I felt that my classmates and myself were reasonable and accurate graders." Students were more neutral towards, "I think that peer and self grading could work in other COMM classes," with four neutrals and the rest, "Agree" and "Strongly Agree." The students all marked "Agree" or "Strongly Agree" with "The self and peer grading policy has positively affected my experience in COMM 204."

Image retrieved from this site.

In the comments, the students were quite candid about how they marked themselves and others. One student admitted, "I felt that I was obviously more bias about grading myself than my peers. I tried to be as unbias[ed] as possible, but I think it was easier for me to mark someone off for something than myself." One student noted the potential risk, "It's an interesting system to implement, although it also relies on the assumption that your classmates also grade you honestly and fairly." Other students saw the process as very beneficial: "Getting to know peer and teacher feedback helps improve and motivate me and helped me boost my confidence."

Overall, I think this experiment was a success. The students responded positively to the policy, despite concerns at first. I was sure to emphasize the community aspects of the course and how important it was to be both fair and supportive. I think this helped the students see the benefit of engaging with this grading system and giving their full attention to their peers. I could imagine this process working well in other classes that might do presentations. In COMM 206: Communication and Culture in Spring 2015, I had many students mentally check out during student presentations about readings. If the students were tasked with grading, however, and knew that they would be as well, perhaps they would pay more attention to their peers. I'm happy that I experimented with this teaching experiment and would encourage students in a Public Speaking or other presentation-heavy course to try it out as well.

Research Blog Update: More to Come

This is a quick post update to explain the lack of weekly posts. My summer was filled with travel, conferences, and vacation, so I took a break from the blog.

The blog starts back up this Sunday, where I will begin writing a series of posts about things I noticed about my travels, particularly cultural differences in China, my experiences teaching, public memory in the UK, movies I've watched, and general comments on public deliberation and culture.

Thanks for reading!