Spending over an entire month in East Asia really changes you.
I don’t mean in some deep, meaningful way. I think my English regressed a few levels, my pop culture knowledge has been replaced with Sanrio characters and my body now runs on train schedules and convenience store food.
But, undeniably, I’ve gained an entirely new perspective on politics — lessons I think can be learned by us here in the United States.
To begin, what are we doing better? It’s hard to say now, given the conservative party of our political system is a ring of pedophile protectors — but I do think there are some things we do better than East Asia.
Most noticeably: We are so beautifully diverse here. Walk down Commonwealth Avenue, and I can get my pick of dinner from any of the Chinese, Thai, New Orleanian, Vietnamese, Korean, Indian, Yemeni or Latin American restaurants.
I can cross the street and hear a Greek conversation next to an Australian-accented one. I can hold a discussion on multi-dimensional analyses of mathematical functions in the Center for Computing and Data Sciences with someone who grew up on the opposite corner of the globe.
In Japan, a hamburger is a little too extreme on the diversity scale, so we’ll stick with just the patty and call it a “hambagu.” In China, anything other than East Asian cuisine is deemed too boring or toxic for your body, so the most diverse restaurant in the country brings over the cuisine of Xinjiang — the Chinese region specializing in Uyghur Muslim genocide.
This isn’t to say East Asia should be critiqued for not being diverse. In fact, across the nine cities I visited, the effects of steady globalization were either already well established, as in Tokyo or Seoul, or steadily in progress, like in Shanghai and Shenzhen.
However, it was not at all a secret these countries held vitriol for people unlike themselves. From “no Japanese, no service” signs, to a scarcity of international tourists in a city as big and prosperous as Shanghai, to the pointed stares my family received for speaking Chinese in Korea, East Asia reveals how deep racism toward any “outgroup” persists.
China is the biggest offender in this realm. I was especially excited for this leg of my trip, as I had read multiple articles about how China was boosting efforts to attract international tourists in the months leading up to that point.
My subsequent disappointment slowly grew. It started when I realized that not a single establishment — from restaurants to street vendors to even vending machines — accepted the cash I had on me. They only took WeChat Pay.
No worries, I thought, until I found out that in order to sign up for one, I needed a Chinese bank account and phone number.
Didi, China’s Uber equivalent, which I tried to use in an effort to not fall victim to taxi scams, was the same story. Restaurants had no physical menus and required you to scan QR codes to access their WeChat-based website, with untranslatable text and advertisements littering the screen.
This comes after China declared they would be increasing efforts to boost international tourism. Had my family not known Chinese, or had we not known a local family we could depend on for phone numbers and bank setup, even booking a hotel room would be a difficult task.
So, what can we learn from these countries? One of the most obvious things I noticed was the drastic difference in public spending.
Tokyo residents pay taxes that support one of, if not the most beautiful subway system in the world — clean, predictable and quiet. Japan, China and Korea each have wonderfully funded high-speed rail systems that top out at almost 220 mph, nearly 50 mph faster than Amtrak.
Mobile payment systems like WeChat Pay, Kakao Pay or Suica allow transactions between buyer and seller to be instant, seamless and nearly free for their citizens — a sharp contrast to the U.S., where every credit card swipe siphons off a fee to the likes of MasterCard and Visa, and payment systems feel cluttered with “loyalty credits!” or “travel perks!”
Another thing I noticed was East Asia’s attitude towards education. At the same time the Trump administration axed the Department of Education, I was in China witnessing families support their children and neighbors’ children as they took the Gaokao, or the national college entrance exam.
I visited a hospital in China and saw hundreds of patients moving in and out, getting their needs fulfilled simply and affordably, without fear that the procedure they have scheduled for the next week would cripple them financially the way it would in America.
The punch line of this story? Naturally, it’s to ask how any of this may have to do with us.
One of the things I originally wanted to say was American citizens seem to succumb less easily to their country’s propaganda.
My dad had a friend, who we spent the day with in Xiamen, who spoke on and on about his hate for the Taiwanese people — how they were traitorous, unkind and selfish.
My dad asked if he had ever met a Taiwanese person or visited Taiwan? He replied: Why would he?
But the Chinese government presses this propaganda onto its people in order to maintain a soft power against nearby regions like Taiwan, Hong Kong and Macau.
However, after the last few months in President Donald Trump’s America, I can’t even say Americans are better at seeing through propaganda. Despite campaign promises that his voters declared as empty threats, like deporting American citizens, ending wars on day one or cutting grocery prices — he was still voted into office.
So maybe, the moral of this story is that it’s not just us who should learn from others.
America is far from perfect — and so is every other country in the world. While some nations are progressing towards perfection, others believe they’re so perfect that they don’t have any room to grow. And we most certainly are not progressing.
