Whether you’ve just arrived in Beijing or been living here for a while, you may be feeling full of gratitude about the exciting opportunity of living in China – but still get the feeling that there is something fundamental missing in your life: friends. Even for extroverts like myself, it takes a big, deep breath to walk into a room full of people you don’t know and take that all-important step that’s required in order to make us thrive – so here are a few tips to meeting new friends in Beijing.

Sign up for a language course
Joining a Chinese school may very well be one of the best decisions you will take. If you sign up for group lessons, you’re likely to not only become friends with your classmates but also to increase your chances of finding Chinese friends. Win-win.

Use your hobby to meet likeminded people
One of the best ways of finding like-minded friends is through your hobbies. In my case, music is my passion and we had barely landed in Beijing before I started looking for a musical outlet. At first, I went to open mic evenings and later joined the fabulous a cappella group “Jing Sing”. Similarly, my husband found running groups and gets to explore the trails and mountains of China with newfound, likeminded friends.

Hope that someone will invite you in
When you’re new to a place, you rely not only on your own proactiveness but also on other people’s friendliness. You will likely be invited into several groups shortly after you arrive in Beijing – and joining a group of people with the same nationality as you can be a good place to start if you’re looking for that “home away from home” feeling.

When good neighbors become good friends
Did you recognize that phrase from the title song of the Australian sitcom Neighbors? If you, like me, are lucky, you will find a great compound with a close-knit community. Should your compound not yet have a WeChat group, why not start one?

Meet other parents
If you have kids and they attend an international school in Beijing, chances are that there is a wide array of activities for parents on offer. Whether you become involved on a daily basis, volunteer for events or choose to show up to the occasional coffee morning, you will have plenty of chances to meet other parents and make friends with them.

Go local if you can
Due to the language barrier, it is difficult to find Chinese friends unless they speak English (or you speak Chinese) meaning that your potential Chinese friends are likely to be young and with a good understanding of foreign cultures. I appreciate my (few) Chinese friends very much and I want to thank them for letting me bombard them with questions about Chinese culture (and language) and for occasionally letting me use them as sources for my blog posts and articles.

Give it time
Making friends takes time. But once you make it beyond the small talk at coffee mornings, parties or outings, you will soon find out whom you really click with. I often find comfort in the feeling that we are all in the same boat. Most of the people I meet and interact with in Beijing are foreigners who, like myself, have started from scratch here. Chances are that we have more in common that meets the eye.

Photo: catholicmatch.com, edithmyrant.blogspot.com, walesonline.co.uk

The race has begun. December is here and we are being bombarded with messages about charitable initiatives and calls for support. According to Forbes, many charities say they receive more than half of their total contributions for the year between the months of October and December. But charity is not only about giving or donating; it is also about sharing information. Those of us who are active on social media have probably, at some stage, shared a post about a missing child, the urgent need for a specific blood type donor, or even stray dogs who are in need of a new home. We believe we do good in sharing – but is that always the case?

Recently there was a story in the USabout a seemingly charitable couple who took to social media to post the touching story of how homeless veteran Johnny Bobbitt had spent his last USD 20 to help Kate McClure when she ran out of gas. They launched a GoFundMe campaign in order to “pay it forward” and raised a whopping USD 400,000. But Bobbitt and McClure were not strangers. They did not meet for the first time at the gas station – but had merely taken a picture there together in order to get potential donors’ sympathy. The scam had been carefully planned for weeks – and was unveiled only after Johnny Bobbitt sued McClure and her husband for not sharing the donations with him as promised. Instead, they spent it on gambling, expensive holidays, luxury handbags and a new BMW. The three people involved all risk up to 10 years in prison. However, there is at least some good news for the 14,000 donors who contributed to the campaign: they will all get reimbursed by GoFundMe.

But not everyone is that lucky, and this is just one of many examples of people using a social media-driven campaign for their own nefarious gain.

There is a number of checks which Beijingers can carry out before sharing or giving – rather than simply perpetuating the torrent of spam that can be disguised as goodwill.

Fake or genuine? Checking for authenticity

In 2017, The Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) told The Independent that sharing pictures of missing children on social media can do more harm than good. The child in the pictures might not be lost – but rather hiding for his/her own safety – or the picture may be posted by a parent who is in dispute with the child’s other parent. This was the case last year when a Chinese father from Hangzhou reported his child missing on social media, while the child was, in fact, with his American mother the whole time.

The police also advise citizens to verify the picture circulated in missing people’s ads: “If the image did not originate from a confirmed police source or from a reputable media outlet showing that officers are actively searching, the post is ‘likely not legitimate.’”

Is it really charity?

You have probably come across posts like this one in your social media feed:

A critical article posted on the media platform Adweek lined out the three tools used in this type of campaign:
a. a positive message
b. an aggressive call to action
c. an emotionally manipulative stock photograph

The term “slacktivism” is used to describe the types of campaigns where people are made to feel that they are making a difference merely by clicking “like”.

Judging by the comments this particular post got, it was clear that readers were not impressed. In fact, they saw this mostly as “shameless self-promotion disguised as charity”. Conditions and terms are usually a big red flag and in the case of the Papa John’s post, the conditions led to a number of questions. What happens if the post does not get 50,000 likes? Will Papa John then not donate USD 50,000 to The Salvation Army? Could the company not have donated the USD 50,000 themselves, then posted a picture and spread awareness that way? Could it simply have highlighted stories of children helped by The Salvation Army?

No such thing as too much information

In the case of the boy from Hangzhou reported missing by his father, some people were sharing the call for help as they, understandably, identified with the horror of losing a child. But there was an equal number of parents questioning what exactly was going on. Despite having spread like wildfire on WeChat, the ad lacked details and vital pieces of information such as the fact that the boy’s parents were separated and the child was with his mother. The lack of details in this call for help made it unclear whether or not the father was acting in good faith when he reported his son missing.

When it comes to the best practices of sharing as much information as possible, we turn to the UK where the NHS (National Health Service) has been praised for its social media campaigns for blood donations. In 2015 they managed to triple blood donor registrations, and part of their success was due to a particularly informative social media campaign. The NHS successfully managed to create a number of educational, witty, and positive threads about blood types, and they were able to anticipate their followers’ questions rather than launch a campaign and wait for an avalanche of questions and negative comments.

As social media users, we should expect nothing less than very informative posts before we rush into sharing initiatives such as calls for blood donations.

Transparency

Most social media users have come across calls for donations to cancer charities. There are hundreds of charities with “cancer” in their names, but do we know what they do and how they spend these donations? Transparency is key when we look into which organizations to support, and we should always be able to find clear information in their social media posts and on their websites. In the case of cancer charities, it should be clear whether the organization is doing research, whether it provides services to those suffering from cancer, or if they share information to help us live healthier lives. But, just as importantly, financial reports should always be publicly available. As Ben Summerskill wrote in a 2015 article for The Guardian, “Transparency should be a charity’s priority, not a reluctant requirement.”

Best practice – supporting one charity a month via a WeChat split bill

In China, WeChat tends to be the platform of choice for sharing and caring – and one particular Shanghai-based group is getting it just right.

When Sabrina (who wishes to remain anonymous) moved to China, she started doing various types of volunteer work. When a friend one day approached her to say that she had some extra income that she would like to donate to a charity but didn’t know how to find the right cause, Sabrina started to look up suitable charities online. It turned out to be a time-consuming task that often leads to dead ends with little information available, or charities that were not “China equipped” and only accepted payments by foreign credit cards. Sabrina came up with the idea of creating a WeChat group where members make a monthly contribution via the split bill function in WeChat, and collectively decide which charity to support that month.

Here is how it works:

All group members commit to an RMB 100 donation per month. Sabrina then provides a list of three selected charities and members of the group decide by online voting which causes they would like to support. Voting is not mandatory, so members are free to leave the decision up to the other members of the group.

The basic requirements for eligible charities are that they must be reputable and trustworthy – and for logistical reasons, they must accept donations via WeChat or Alipay.

Around the second week of the month, the results of the vote are announced and a split bill is sent to members who have one week to make their contribution of RMB 100. At the end of the month, the money is donated and members receive proof of payment in the group chat.

“This was such a simple idea to come up with and virtually anyone could start a similar group,” says Sabrina. “It’s a China-friendly and relatively easy group to manage – even for people like me who have full-time jobs. I hope that other people follow suit and that this model will be used more and more, in order to allow us to support worthy causes through something as simple and brilliant as WeChat.”

Methods of giving to charity and sharing good initiatives have evolved rapidly in recent years. Whether it be Ice Bucket Challenges or simple online payments, this convenience also means that we need to be vigilant and make sure not to perpetuate the actions of some who wish to take advantage of the good-natured people hoping to make a difference.

This article first appeared in the beijingkids December 2018 Charity and Goodwill issue.
Photo: Adobe Creative Suite; screenshots from GoFundMe.com, Facebook, and Twitter

Daniel Moreno does not hesitate for a second when asked what his favorite dish is: Pizza Margherita. Paella comes in second and that is likely no coincidence. With an Italian mother and Spanish father, it is true that he was introduced to Mediterranean food already as a baby but when it comes to tasting new things, he is surprisingly brave and open-minded for an 8-year-old. Daniel (an art, football and music-loving Year 4 student at Dulwich College Beijing) has, together with mom Alessia, been invited to try the colorful and tasty cuisine of Ganges Indian Restaurant (Lido branch).

The director Laxman Hemnani explained that this is the newest of the four Beijing branches of Ganges and that the menu features mainly north Indian cuisine. The restaurant lets Daniel choose exactly what he wants from the menu and his eyes light up as he spots saffron rice. “I’m definitely having that,” he says. The restaurant suggests butter naan bread as a side for Daniel as it is normally a favorite with kids, but he has his mind set on the olive naan.

Before he knows it, the waiter brings a symphony of Indian dishes for Daniel to try. It includes chicken tikka masala, reshmi kebab (marinated, barbecued chicken), palak paneer (a spinach and cottage cheese dish), chana masala (chickpeas cooked in a spicy, tomato-based sauce) and batada boda (mashed potato and chickpea flour fritters with spices). The fritters are an instant hit with Daniel although he skips the tamarind dipping sauce that comes with them.

Daniel starts tasting everything and despite a couple of the dishes being a little too spicy for him, he is generally very impressed and keeps working his way through the wide array of food as he tells us how excited he is to go to India and visit the Taj Mahal for Chinese New Year. India has been at the top of the Moreno family’s destination wish list for a long time – not least because Alessia (who is a yoga teacher) has been dreaming of doing a yoga training in India – a dream that will finally come true next year. It turns out that Ganges has a special menu for yogis like Alessia. The Yoga menu boats a number of vegetarian curries and dishes – something she has never seen at other restaurants in Beijing.

Before tasting all the food, we asked Daniel what he expected to like the most. It was saffron rice. And the rice certainly didn’t disappoint. So much so that he got a nice, big order to take home. But his absolute favorite turned out to be the olive naan which seems like the perfect fit for a young, global citizen with a Mediterranean background and a newfound passion for India.

The food at Ganges Indian restaurant is certainly suitable for kids and beijingkids would like to thank Mr. Hemnani and his team for treating Daniel like Shah Jahan, the King of the World.

Ganges Indian Restaurant
Daily 10.30am-11pm, 38 Jiuxianqiao Fangyuan West Road, Chaoyang District. 朝阳区酒仙桥芳园西路38号. (139 1062 9470) 

This article appeared in the beijingkids November 2018 Beijing Makers issue
Photos: Kipp Whittaker

Mother of three Helena Nord used to live in Zhuhai in southern China before her family moved to Beijing in the summer of 2017. She had always been prepared to travel far for a good hairdresser. “Good hairdressers were not easy to come by in Zhuhai, so my girlfriends and I would normally go to Macao when it was time to trim those split ends,” she smiles. Yes, Helena has a nice sense of self-deprecating humor and was the perfect candidate for a make-over. She did have a moment of panic the day before the makeover, as she wanted to make sure that she would get a say and not be dragged into something she didn’t like. After a bit of encouragement from the team, Nord realized that it’s not called a makeover for anything – so she decided to go with the flow. Not only did she agree to try something new, she also suggested to go shorter than the length hairstylist Anna from Catherine de France had originally planned.

A classy bob below the jawline framed Nord’s face, but the real change consisted of something she had never tried before in her life: dyeing her strawberry blonde locks! Anna suggested highlights in order to “lift” Nord’s natural color slightly.

The result was truly stunning while staying natural, so a happy and relieved Nord could finally sit back and enjoy the styling and pampering. Anna went for a wavy vintage styling and completed the look with a bold evening make-up featuring smoky eyes and nude lips.

With hair and makeup done, it was time for Nord to slip into a beautiful, deep purple dress from the China/US-based brand Dream Cloud Couture. The brand aims to combine Chinese traditional heritage with modern Chinese design, and in terms of the fabric, this qipao-inspired dress is made of something special. “Perfumed cloud silk” is a type of silk which is obtained by adding pressed yam fruit and mud from local rivers in the Guangdong area to raw silk, in order to create a special color as well as a thicker and heavier type of silk. Due to the craftsmanship required, it is also known as “soft gold.”

The all-important accessories for Nord’s photo shoot were provided by Bettina from Seeds of Serenity. The lime green pompom earrings were the perfect contrast to the purple dress, and some sparkle was added with a delicate, beaded bracelet and a matching long necklace.

The exclusive cocktail bar Finders Keepers provided the perfect backdrop for an elegant photo shoot, and with newfound inspiration and courage, Nord waltzed out into the Beijing Friday night, looking more glamorous than ever.

Get This Look

Catherine de France
Tue-Sat 10am-8pm, Sun-Mon 11am-6pm. 1/F, East Avenue Bldg, 10 Xindong Lu, Chaoyang District. 朝阳区新东路10号逸盛阁首层. (8442 5120)

Dream Cloud Couture
WeChat: luckycloudcouture

Jewelry by Seeds of Serenity

This article appeared in the beijingkids November 2018 Beijing Makers issue
Photos: Uni You

Having teenage children can be the beginning of a newfound freedom and independence both for the parents and for the kids. But the thought of letting your teens loose in a city of 25 million people is somehow daunting – especially if you’re new to the city.

Teenagers are spoilt for choice in Beijing. There is always something to do. Daytime activities may include checking out the art district, having a picnic at one of the city’s beautiful parks, exploring sights, going shopping, or simply having an ice cream with your friends – whereas the fun at night time is likely to go down at private house parties or even at bars and nightclubs.

It’s difficult to define when is a good age for children to start exploring Beijing on their own but as a mother of three teenagers (18, 16 and 13) I personally found it useful to seek advice from other parents. Class (or year) WeChat groups at your child’s school are, for example, an excellent way of consulting others.

However, I quickly realized that my husband and I may be slightly less strict than other parents since our oldest had lived away from home (in another country) already at the age of 14 to attend a music boarding school. He had experienced independence as a young teen. And in many ways, his siblings are now profiting from the trust we put in their older brother from a rather young age.

Newcomer families will be happy to know that Beijing is a safe city. Like in all big cities, you should never let your guard down completely but most people feel completely safe walking around the city – even in the middle of the night. According to the site safearound.com, mugging and kidnapping against foreigners are extremely rare, the risk of terrorism is very low, and the murder rate in China overall is less than half of that of the United States. This should ease at least some of your worries that you might have when letting your kids out at night in other cities around the globe.

Kids have completely different interests when it comes to meeting up with friends. But regardless of whether they catch a movie at the cinema, go shopping or go clubbing, you will soon discover that the Sanlitun area tends to be “the place to be.” It offers shopping, restaurants, entertainment, and nightlife and most nightclubs that cater to the young audience are located around the Worker’s Stadium, walking distance from Sanlitun Village. Other clubs and popular bars specializing in live music are located in the Gulou area, near the Drum and Bell towers.

Advice for parents whose kids are active in the nightlife

Drinking
Drinking laws are very lax in China, and this definitely adds to some of the risks of letting your teenagers go out dancing or checking out live music around town. Make sure you talk to them about the dangers of alcohol, and that fake alcohol is fairly often served at clubs.

Drugs
Make it very clear that if your child is in the same room or at the same party as someone using or selling drugs, they must leave the venue as fast as they can. Being associated with drugs can have very severe consequences in China.

Stay together
Encourage your children to stay together and share transportation when they head home. WeChat also makes it extremely convenient for you to stay in touch at all times with your child and even his or her friend’s parents.

Communication
Enforce some rules around communication. A curfew is a curfew and I personally have very little tolerance for last minute WeChat messages announcing changes to the agreement. However, I do understand that it can take time to find a taxi and that that can sometimes cause delays. Also, if your child goes to a private party, ask for the names/phone numbers of the host’s parents.

Getting around
Didi is China’s very own private taxi service. Didi has been a bit of a logistical life-saver for our family and we find it to be very reliable. Since we live in the city but many of our kids’ friends live near the international schools, we just send them back and forth by Didi. Personally, I have been comfortable with using this solution with my youngest since she turned 12.

My oldest is off to college in the US after the summer. He often says that he’ll miss Beijing and I know that he is thankful for having had the possibility not only to explore the city, its tastes and its art – but also to meet its people. Beijing is there to be explored and allowing teens to thrive by putting your trust in them will make the whole family’s China experience even more worthwhile.

Photo: Adobe Stock Photo
This article appeared on p58 of beijingkids July 2018 Home & Relocation Guide issue

Our family arrived in Beijing on an ice cold and grey December morning in 2015. With three children, 15 suitcases and a very unhappy cat, we had barely left the aircraft before we put on our masks. Thanks to our newly acquired air pollution app, we knew that Beijing was going to welcome us with a good deal of smog. The numbers did not lie – but more about them later.

If you’re about to move to Beijing, you may have experienced skepticism from your family and friends. In our case, the questions went along the lines of “how can you even consider settling down there? And with children? Beijing of all places. Have you not read about the pollution?”I admit that we were concerned about the air quality aspect – but once you understand the impact (if any) pollution will have on your life in Beijing and become aware of the tools at your disposal, you’re set for a good start.

Tomorrow Is Purple: Run for the Hills!
The air quality is measured in the density of the tiny PM 2.5 – or fine particulate matters with diameters less than 2.5 micrometers – or 20 times thinner than the human hair. On that cold December morning when we first landed in Beijing, the density of PM 2.5 was approximately 300 micrograms per cubic meter. That is six times the value recommended by the World Health Organization.

As individuals, there is little we can do about the city’s air pollution problem. We can moan about it, look at it from our living room windows, shake our heads. And then have faith in Chinese authorities because after all, they are trying to do something about it.

If you drive a scooter within the city’s Fourth Ring Road (there are six of them in total) it has to be electric. Diesel cars are banned in Beijing and results of the government’s “coal to gas” program are becoming visible. In the near future, 500 of the most polluting plants will be shut down and 2,500 factories will be upgraded. Authorities have also begun to deal with garbage incineration and the burning of wood. This means, among other things, that most outdoor barbecue restaurants in Beijing have been shut down.

But while we’re waiting for a long-term improvement, smog is still a reality in Beijing and as residents, we have some tools we can use to address the problem in our everyday lives.

Masks. As newcomers in Beijing, you are likely to find yourself debating the usefulness of masks when talking to your new friends. Some say they work and some say they don’t. There are, however, some very sophisticated and almost completely airtight models on the market and wearing masks certainly cannot harm. My personal advice is to use masks. And when you forget your mask at home, make sure to keep your mouth closed. Studies show that the nose has a natural mechanism to filter dangerous particles and prevent them from entering the lungs.

Air purifiers are machines that filter the harmful particles and ensure a better indoor climate. When the pollution is at its worst, all six air purifiers in our apartment run at full blast. And boy are they noisy! They are a bulky and necessary purchase and come in a variety of sizes and prices. Just make sure to check and replace your filter every couple of months (maybe more) to make sure it is still doing its job and not clogged up with PM 2.5.

Air quality apps. There are tons of them on the market. Apps that tell us what today’s Air Quality Index is. In the beginning, I checked my app constantly, but our seventh-floor living room window has gradually become our new scale: If we can see the big crane among the skyscrapers in the Central Business District clearly – then the air quality is probably between 50 and 100. If the top of it is covered by smog, we are approaching the 200 mark and if the crane is invisible, it’s time to grab those masks and turn the purifiers up a notch.

Closed windows. Whatever happens: Do not open the windows before you’ve checked your app. We wait for blue skies and clean air before we open the windows. Daily ventilation is, alas, a thing of the past.

The Egg, or the little gadget that measures the indoor air quality. Far from all Beijing residents invest in an “egg” but in expat circles, it is in high demand and can be a useful tool in making sure the AQI levels indoors are much better than outside.

Day trips. I would be lying if I said that the air pollution does not affect my mood. Especially when it’s the fourth or fifth day in a row with grey and thick air. I tend to organize an excursion or a mini-break when it’s too much. You do not have to go far to find cleaner air so whether it’s for a weekend in a different province or a day trip to the mountains just north of Beijing, day trips are by far my most used mental tool. Directly followed by a huge burger from one of the western joints in Sanlitun.

Cheer Up – We’re Back to Green
Smog is part of our everyday life in Beijing. It is like a heavy cloud in the back of our minds – and on the rooftops of the city. But even when it’s at its worst, life goes on. We cycle, we go out and the kids go to school (luckily, most international schools have very advanced air filters). Shops are open, the elderly meet in the parks for Taichi and folk dance, friends gather (indoors or outdoors) and nothing is canceled. Well except from the training sessions of my husband’s running club. They have set the limit for outdoor training at AQI 200.

In our family, we have accepted that bad air is something we have to live with.

So far, I have luckily succeeded in letting the positive and unique experiences in China outweigh the poor air quality. I may well be going crazy but sometimes it’s as if I can hear Beijing whisper to me: “I know, you’re feeling down today. Thank you for your patience and here is most beautiful blue sky and an air quality of 30 for you. Go ahead and open those windows”.

For more of Lise’s reflections and stories about everyday life in Beijing, go to her blog www.ninemillionbicycles.weebly.com or to www.lisefloris.com.

This article appeared on p44－45 of beijingkids July 2018 Home & Relocation Guide issue.
Photo: Adobe Stock Photo

When I wake up on day one, the first thing I think about is my phone. I have strategically placed it in my handbag the night before in order to avoid temptation. I am met with scepticism when I remind my children that today is the start of my smartphone detox and that it is useless to write to me or call me on WeChat this week. I go for a walk and realise that I hadn’t left my phone completely untouched for hours in a very long time. I feel relieved that I don’t have to reply to any messages. But by the late afternoon, I am dying to know how people have reacted to my WeChat and Facebook posts about my smartphone detox, which I posted shortly before going off-line. I will only know in seven whole, long days.

A year ago, I switched off my smartphone for one week in an attempt to test my addiction and to see if a smartphone free life would bring my family closer together.

I was the kind of smartphone user that would check my phone even before the alarm clock went off in the morning. A few hours earlier, I would have fallen asleep to the bright, blue light from the phone screen (the light that suppresses melatonin and makes your brain mix up day and night). I wouldn’t go anywhere without my phone and always kept it within arm’s reach.

I would tell my teenage kids that they spent way too much time on their devices – after which I would sneak into another room and check social media messages again. A little bit like when I used to forbid them to drink coke and then I’d hide behind the refrigerator door and have a sip.

Hanging up on bad habits
Yes, mothers are only humans – and although I wasn’t too proud of my sneaky behavior, I do try to be mindful of my smartphone use in front of other people.

You’ll often see me rolling my eyes if a group of people are all on their phones while they are supposedly out for a social gathering. I feel sad when I see a child eating alone while his or her parents are on their phones – and my poor husband can barely even think about glancing at his phone at the dinner table before I turn into a growling Rottweiler. Smartphone etiquette is something I’ve felt strongly about ever since I read James P. Steyer’s Talking back to Facebook – a common sense guide to raising kids in the digital age. But although I like to see myself as a conscious smartphone user (when interacting with other people), I wanted to find out whether I could live without my phone for a week and what effect a smartphone-free life would have on my family life, social life and everyday life.

I switched off my smartphone on a Friday morning in April 2017– or at least anything that is smart about it. I could still make and receive calls but that was it. No 3G, no wifi, no social media, no maps, no apps. It was for only for a week. Seven days. If you find yourself thinking how hard can it be?, that is completely normal. When I spoke to friends about my plan to be off the grid for a week, some of the people who know me best were convinced that I would give in mid-week. Some said they would never be able to live without their phone while others said that for them, it would not be an issue at all to be smartphone free for a week – or even longer.

The experiment
During my detox week, I realised just how much I had relied on my smartphone ever since I got my first one – a blackberry – back in 2008. And looking back at my diary from the detox week, I was almost ready to give up by the morning of day one. The first practical hurdle arrived on day two when we held a yard sale and several people wanted to pay by WeChat. But already by the end of day two, a peaceful feeling descended upon me and I was particularly relieved that I didn’t have to reply to any messages. As the days went by, I became more and more used to the phone being tucked away in my bag. Yes, there were things I missed – such as taking pictures, receiving WeChat pins, using maps, shopping on Taobao and especially documenting my life in China on social media. I also had moments of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) but it is safe to say that the pros outweighed the cons. My writer’s flow was great, I was able to do all my Chinese homework, I enjoyed every single undisturbed moment, and most importantly: my family had my undivided attention.

The conclusion I drew after my one-week detox was that, to my great relief, I might not be suffering from nomophobia (NoMo(bile)phobia) after all. But at the same time, I had to conclude that a smartphone-free life (especially when living in China) is perhaps not realistic.

One year later
In the weeks following the detox, my motivation to continue down the right path was sky high. I managed to leave my phone untouched for ages (meaning up to two hours) and I recommended a smartphone detox to everyone I came across. I even considered organizing talks about smartphone addiction – a topic I had, by now, done quite a lot of research on.

But alas, old habits die hard. Despite my efforts and a newfound serenity, I somehow started slipping back into my old ways. My phone made its way back to my nightstand and I started checking it even before the alarm clock goes off in the morning. I tend to fall asleep to the bright, blue light from the phone screen – and rarely go anywhere without my phone – which I still keep within arm’s reach.

However disappointed I am in myself and my inability to practice what I preach, I continue to believe in the benefits of a smartphone detox. Apart from the advantages of feeling less stressed and giving family and friends my undivided attention, my smartphone-free week offered me the possibility to reflect on what role this neat piece of technology plays in my life, for better and for worse. My smartphone is my communication hub. It is my number one time-eater, my promotional channel, my constant bad conscience, and quite often my problem solver. My research on the topics of addiction to electronic devices and smartphone etiquette continues and in an attempt to reach an acceptable level of smartphone use and to hopefully inspire others (not least my children), the concrete step I am taking today is to re-install the app Moments which monitors your smartphone screen time. You would honestly be surprised!

For extracts of Lise’s smartphone detox diary and the full article about her one-week detox, go to www.lisefloris.com

Photo: Negative Space via Pexels
This article appeared on p16-17 of beijingkids May 2018 issue

“This is me and some of my friends from camp. We’re on our way to the daily morning assembly – I was completely lost when it came to singing Danish songs.” Sixteen-year-old Coco flips through the photos on her phone and smiles as another good memory pops up. “This is from our day trip to Copenhagen. We got to go to Tivoli Gardens.”

Coco studies at Dulwich College Beijing (DCB). Her mother is half-Chinese, half-German while her father is Danish. She has lived in Beijing almost all her life but when asked where she’s from, she tends to reply,“I’m Danish.

“I was born in Denmark, and although I only lived there the first year of my life, I have always felt a special connection with Denmark.” Coco loves spending time with friends and relatives in Denmark, and she can never get enough of Danish food.

It was Coco’s mom Nina who first read about the Danes Worldwide summer camps. They are specially designed for children with a Danish background but living abroad. The emphasis of the school is to learn Danish, a language spoken by roughly 5.5 million people – the equivalent of the population of Chaoyang District.

However, the bonding among students normally takes place outside the classroom, be it at the weekly bonfire, at Thai boxing class, at disco nights, or around the arts and crafts table.

When it was time for Coco to leave for camp in July 2017, she felt excited and scared at the same time. She knew that she would be the youngest participant in her age group, having just turned 15. And she worried about everything being in Danish.

“On the first day, I had two options,” she recalls. “I could either accept my mom’s offer to drop me off at camp or take the bus with the other students from Copenhagen. I chose the latter, well aware that it would be the first of many moments where I would feel be stepping out of my comfort zone.”

Giacomo (left) and Daniel ready for their first day at FC Barcelona Summer camp. FC Barcelona Summer camp.

Danish Full Immersion
Coco ended up making friends already on the three-hour bus ride from Copenhagen, and as she arrived at the beautiful facility on the island of Funen, she was shown to her room and introduced to her two roommates, both from France. One of the two girls spoke a bit of Danish, and as for Coco, she soon realized that she had no need to worry about her Danish skills.

“On the first day, we had to sit a language test, which is essentially designed to assess your level so you don’t get lost, but you don’t get bored either,” she explains. She recalls the test as being surprisingly easy and started camp on a high and with a confidence boost as she was placed on the highest level.

As the three weeks went by, both the friendships and the cultural awareness grew stronger. Students were exposed to Danish culture and language every day, all day long. Coco was particularly happy to learn about Danish regional traditions that kids who live abroad are normally not familiar with.

“The only negative thing I can think of is that it was hard to, so to speak, break the linguistic groups outside the classroom,” she says. “For example, there was a group of boys from Germany who preferred to always speak German together, and I sometimes found it difficult when the French girls started speaking French to each other even when I was around.”

But at the end of the day, Coco doesn’t blame them. She thinks it is only human to stick to what you know and to whatever makes you feel more comfortable; especially in a setting that is somehow both familiar and foreign at the same time. She is still in contact with many of her fellow students from summer school and knows for a fact that they all benefited immensely from the experience.

“Not only did our level of Danish improve, we also found a new sense of belonging in Denmark. I cannot wait to see my friends from summer school again this coming July. We will meet up in Denmark, since we all tend to go there on holidays every summer,” she says.

Team spirit!

Barça Forever
In the summer of 2017, 7-year-old Daniel and 10-year-old Giacomo (both students at DCB) saw their football dream come true when they went on a one-week football camp organized by FC Barcelona. It was a team they were introduced to as infants, with dad Cesar being not only a born and bred Barcelonian, but also a passionate fan of the world-famous local team.

On a steamy hot July morning in 2017, mom Alessia (who is Italian) dropped off the boys at the National Institute for Physical Education of Catalonia, and Daniel could hardly believe his luck when he realized he was going to be playing for the team named after his idol Lionel Messi.

The young players – of different nationalities but sharing the same dream – quickly got into the daily rhythm at camp.

“We would do a long warm-up followed by two hours of technical skills training,” Giacomo says. “By the end of our warm-up, the heat was already almost unbearable.”

Swimming classes took place right before lunch, and Daniel has particularly fond memories of the lunch served at camp.

“I loved the food. We would usually have fish or pasta, and we also got pizza one day,” he recalls.
In the afternoon, teams would move off the pitch and into the classroom for a lesson, quiz or film about FC Barcelona and the club history. For Giacomo, the highlight of the week was the field trip to Camp Nou, the home stadium of FC Barcelona – and Europe’s biggest stadium with a seating capacity of almost 100,000 people.

“Més que un club”- More Than a Club
“One might argue that signing our boys up for summer camp with FC Barcelona was all about the football,” mom Alessia says, “but actually it was much more than that. Listening to Spanish (and to Catalan) all day long was, without a doubt, good for the boys and from a cultural viewpoint, one should bear in mind that FC Barcelona, is an institution in itself. It is the pride of Barcelona and we felt that there was an added cultural value in this particular summer camp for us.

“We do our best to strengthen the boys’ ties with Europe, and I should add that, for fairness, the boys went to an AC Roma football camp two years ago in my beloved hometown Rome!” she laughs.

Photos: Courtesy of Lise Floris

This article appeared on p52-53 of beijingkids April 2018 issue

On the surface, Christmas is everywhere in Beijing; from Christmas music at the mall, to Christmas decorations at the market. For most of the city’s foreigners, ‘tis the season to be jolly. We gather around mulled wine, dig out our big box of decorations from the attic, and put “White Christmas” on repeat from mid-November. But what does Christmas mean to the Chinese? If anything at all…

As I walk through the rotating doors of our compound on a grey, cold Wednesday afternoon, I feel my face expand in a big smile. The Christmas tree has arrived and the staff are climbing ladders and chatting about where exactly to place the big red bows. Or at least that’s what I pick up from my basic Mandarin. All I can think is, “Thank you.”

I catch receptionist Jim looking dreamy-eyed. Jim comes from Heilongjiang Province and moved to Beijing three years ago. Although he grew up in a Chinese Taoist family, his memories of Christmas are vivid. In the far and cold north of China, he could be seen at the tender age of 13 going into the forest on his own to find the perfect Christmas tree. He would, singlehandedly, cut it and bring it to his classroom for the school to enjoy. To say the very least, I am surprised how a tradition from my native Scandinavia traveled all the way to far eastern China.
“It was thanks to our middle school English books that I first learned about Christmas,” Jim says. “They would always have a chapter or two about Christmas, and I liked this foreign tradition. I would always daydream about experiencing a real Christmas. Yet the closest I ever got to a Christmas present was an apple wrapped in paper,” he laughs.

For the Bible Tells Me So
When the message “Yēsū ài nǐ” (Jesus loves you) ticked in on my phone one evening, I felt culturally confused for a moment. I quickly realized that it was not the WeChat translator playing a trick on me. The message was from my dear ayi Zhang Ting, who turned out to be part of the rather large Christian community in China. “It was my former boss from Hong Kong who first introduced me to the Lord,” she says. Now a devout Christian, she is actively involved in the local Church’s activities and attends Mass every Sunday.

“On Christmas Eve, my friends and I put on a song and dance performance at church and we then take to the streets of Beijing to hand out Christian leaflets,” she says.

Zhang Ting also does what she can to make her children experience the magic of Christmas. Having grown up in a Taoist family, she is their only Christian influence and does not get to see them very often, as they live in faraway Gansu Province together with her parents-in-law. When the children are in Beijing for Christmas, she brings them to church and showers them with love, food, and small Christmas gifts.

Jim, the receptionist

Travelling Traditions
I grew up in northern Denmark, and the influence from Asia was more or less limited to the town’s only Chinese restaurant. For all I knew, everyone in China ate chicken with cashew nuts and fried ice cream for dessert. As for Chinese traditions, I believe the first time I heard about Chinese New Year was when I went to university in the mid-nineties. But things were surprisingly different on the other side of the planet.

Just like Jim, Hua Lin first heard about Christmas when she was in middle school back in the eighties. “We only knew Chinese New Year so the chapter in our English book about Christmas and New Year in the West, took us by surprise,” she recalls. “The book had no pictures so we could only try to imagine what a Christmas tree looked like. Or Santa Claus for that matter.”

When Hua Lin was in her twenties, a big supermarket chain from Beijing opened a branch in her native Baoding. And the entrance of that supermarket was where she had her first-ever encounter with a Christmas tree. At that time, she did not know that she would one day move to Beijing, and that both she and her children (who attend an international school) would be able to observe how important Christmas is to China’s foreigners.
“In Beijing, we watch the foreign community gather around Christmas activities and come the 20th of December, we see them leave Beijing – loaded with gifts – to go back to their countries for the holidays.”

“When my husband and I enrolled our children into an international school, I wanted to give them some background knowledge about the foreign cultures they would be introduced to. I read Xifang Shénhuà Gù Shi – a book of western myths and stories – to them. I like the thought of keeping an open mind and embracing traditions we find lovely although they are outside our culture, so to speak.”

The front cover of the leaflet Zhang Ting’s church hands out to people

While the Christmas tales of Jim, Zhang Ting and Hua Lin are but a tiny sample of how the Chinese experience Christmas, they are testimonies of a China that has embraced the tradition of Christmas for much longer than I had imagined.

It may well be the commercial version of Christmas, since the Christian missionaries who came to China in the early 20th century were later sent away. But behind the blinking reindeer installation at the mall lies a cultural openness and an amount of knowledge about Christmas that surprised me. And what’s more, a study carried out by the China Social Survey Institute (CSSI) shows that Christmas is the second most-celebrated festival in China after the Spring Festival. But while in the west, Christmas tends to be all about family, the Chinese (or rather the younger generation between 14 and 45 years old) see Christmas Eve as an occasion to gather with friends, go out for dinner or have some fun at the local KTV place. While Christmas is not, nor will it ever be, a national holiday in China, it seems to be generating more and more interest. A lot has happened since Jim and Hua Lin first read that chapter about Christmas in their English books.

Did you know that…

– 圣诞快乐(Shèngdàn kuàile) means “Happy Christmas” in Chinese.
– The tradition behind giving each other apples on Christmas Eve comes from a play of words with the character 平 (píng). Christmas Eve is called 平安夜 (ping’an ye, “quiet/peaceful evening”), and this phrase uses the same píng in the Chinese word for “peace,”和平 (hépíng). The Chinese word for “apple” is 苹果 (píngguǒ), which has the same tone or pronunciation with the words above.
– Protestant Christianity is one of five approved religions in China alongside Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, and Catholicism (operating independently of Rome).
– If you hear 叮叮当当 (ding ding dāng dang) being played around Christmas in China, you guessed it right, it’s “Jingle Bells.”
– In China, Santa Claus is known as 圣诞老人 (Shèngdàn laoren), or “Old Christmas Man.”

Photos: Courtesy of Lise Floris and Zhang Ting

This article appeared on p52-53 of beijingkids December 2017 issue.