The Heater Exchange

"They forgot to tell you," relays my translator with a grin, "to keep the window open for half an hour the first time you use the heater."

A small choking sound is heard. My self-restraint has kicked in. (Actually, I've edited the expletives out of this exchange.)

I wave the product manual in the air and ask good-humoredly: "Does this booklet offer that advice anywhere?"

It does not.

That old question: "Why?"

They don't know. Smiles.

The store has over 15 different models of electric oil heater. This time, the salesman (the same personable gentleman as last time) recommends a different model. But it is made by the same company that makes the Poisoner model, I point out. I am told that the Poisoner is the only model sold here that has "an oil smell." But, I reply, that is precisely the one the salesman recommended last time.

Yes. My friendly translator eyes me quizzically. What might I be driving at?

The salesman recommended the unique model that has "an oil smell"?

But what is the use? I am becoming resigned to that common viewpoint of the West -- I used to disparage it pre-China: communication between humans, as with apes, consists of body language and little more. Words are to no avail.

A footnote: these letters of mine belong to some extent to the "kiss and tell" genre, with an important distinction: I've completely failed to observe the part where it says you should above all wait til you're gone before publishing. Most recipients are in the West and have no involvement with China or the things I'm describing, but fellow teachers, and the now-famous Mr. Meng, are also on the list. I've received exceedingly little direct feedback from the folks here, but it seems not everyone is thrilled. (I don't mean Mr. Meng -- he's been positive.) Seems some of my jokes aren't so funny -- and that my "anger" has caused anger.

That's unfortunate, but I think I'm simply being true to an elementary tenet of good reporting: tell what you see without a slant.

Here's something extraordinary: these letters are not written for money, popularity, or success; and I'm not trying -- not much, anyhow -- to fake wisdom, experience, virtue or authority. How much of your reading is that true of?

True, you're also getting the occasional glint here and there betraying the presence of a human personality, and it may be a personality you feel is deeply flawed. But -- may I offer an opinion? -- it's entirely possible that you know someone, even have a friend, whose personality is worse still. I'm just letting you see mine. Wouldn't the world be a better place if more folks did that?

I am, after all, the world's foremost authority on my own observations and reflections as I encounter China. Would it be right to let that kind of expertise go to waste?

I am reminded of Maureen Dowd's amusing "As the World Churns" election debate commentary in last Sunday's NY Times:

The vice president was in a straitjacket the whole debate, forcing himself to look humble because he had looked too arrogant in the first debate. Gore was reacting to Gore, like the sheriff in "Blazing Saddles" who holds a gun to his own head and takes himself hostage.

You knew what the transparent Mr. Gore was thinking, of course, when he was forcing himself to give that self-effacing little smile: I know I'm smarter. I'm just not allowed to say so.

The scene conjured up that hilarious "Saturday Night Live" sketch from 1988, with Jon Lovitz playing Michael Dukakis and Dana Carvey doing his papa Bush.

BUSH: So, in summary . . . stay the course . . . thousand points of light . . . thousand points of light . . . stay the course.

MODERATOR: Governor Dukakis? Rebuttal?

DUKAKIS: I can't believe I'm losing to this guy.

The vice president thought his main hurdle was getting out of Bill Clinton's shadow and showing he was his own man. But the more he shows himself, the less people seem to like him.

[edited excerpt]

The vast bulk of communication in our world is generated with commercial or political motives, by professionals, to win over as large a portion of the public as possible. Even travel notes like these would typically be written with an eye to future sales. If I were not so perverse as to disdain these incentives, there are obvious adjustments I would make to make it all more upbeat and less upsetting. You gotta love me for that at least a little.

I think the modern competitive environment has led to a general kind of tenor inflation, similar to the "grade inflation" that can make A's meaningless in schools. Simple nature -- truth -- the emperor without illusory clothes -- frank observation -- is increasingly incongruous. It's like the food we eat: we've lost our instinctive taste for nature.

If you have a week to live, do you want the doctor to tell you the truth? With happy messages lapping at the people from every direction, how many have weighed their desire for unadorned reality?