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Manners maketh even little emperors
By Raymond Zhou (China Daily)
Updated: 2005-02-25 08:47

Wang Xia was making her round of holiday visits during the Spring Festival. She would slip red envelopes containing good-luck money to children of her friends and relatives.

Most would accept them with a "thank you" and walk away. But one of them opened the envelope right in front of everyone and blurted out: "Gee, it's only 100 yuan."

One can imagine how embarrassed Wang and the child's parents were at that moment.

Experts say it is high time our children became educated in manners and etiquette for this kind of occasion.

Spring Festival, or Chinese Lunar New Year, is the biggest holiday for Chinese all over the world, and naturally it involves the most elaborate customs and rituals, which, when handled improperly, could be traps in the making. How much to put in a red envelope, and who should or should not be the recipient? Questions like that are more art than science.

Rituals change, especially in a fast-changing social environment. New Year calls, bai nian, have always been in-person home visits. But modern technology is threatening to replace them with more convenient forms such as telephone greetings and cellphone messaging.

As this is the time to pay respect to one's parents, grandparents, including those who are deceased, children must use different New Year greetings that fit the degree of respectfulness accorded the person they greet. Unfortunately, most are "little emperors" who have been raised as if they were the centre of the world. When sitting at a table full of guests, they may behave with manners that may reveal a severe deficiency in civility.

Who have the best manners?

If Miss Manners decides to diversify her business into China, she may want to settle down in Shanghai first as people in this city will be most receptive to her preaching. Then, it may make more sense to launch her charm school in Beijing or Guangzhou because citizens in these places would reap more benefits.

According to a poll by Beijing Up-Point Consulting, 96 per cent of Shanghainese consider themselves well-versed in manners while only 71 per cent of Beijingers and 78 per cent of Guangzhou residents make the same claim.

The survey, conducted between February 7 and 11, sampled 619 respondents aged between 18 and 60.

When it comes to Spring Festival etiquette, 46 per cent said they would make telephone appointments before showing up at a relative's door to say "Happy New Year." On the other hand, 29 per cent considered it awkward to call ahead. Again, Shanghai respondents found it most comfortable to pick up the phone - "out of politeness and time considerations."

Dressing up for the big holiday used to be a big deal, and nowadays a set of new clothes is affordable to most people. Still, 74 per cent would choose to wear new or at least clean attire before making New Year visits. Shanghainese universally see it as mandatory whereas only 50 per cent of Beijingers felt it necessary.

"Zuo yi," or holding both hands and bowing slightly a few times, is a custom that seems to be slipping away. This Chinese handshake is still seen during the Spring Festival, but as many as 42 per cent of the sampled residents have eschewed it and only 26 per cent are still doing it. This time, only 11 per cent of Shanghainese belong to the "diehard" group while 47 per cent of Cantonese are proud to be counted as "old-school."

As American families prepare candies for trick-or-treat on Halloween night, Chinese tend to buy large quantities of choice fruit, flowers, tonics, liquor, tea and snacks as New Year gifts. Overall, 84 per cent said they keep this habit. The poll shows that Shanghainese are most fastidious about it while Beijingers are more indifferent.

Two thirds of the respondents said they were aware of the convention of "chinking alcoholic cups but not tea cups." While 86 per cent of Cantonese adhere to it, only 56 per cent of Beijingers know about it.

Beyond the Spring Festival

The survey also queried public attitudes towards everyday decorum. For example, it found that 71 per cent placed emphasis on telephone manners, ranking it higher than dressing norms (69 per cent), table manners (66 per cent), conversation protocols (57 per cent), and holiday courtesy (35 per cent).

Weddings and funerals come next, followed by public toilet deportment. In these categories, Shanghai was way ahead of the other two cities.

Is it appropriate to alert someone whose behaviour goes against social norms? A quarter of the respondents said it is, but most (63 per cent) would handle it according to the situation, and 12 per cent would refrain from "being a busybody" no matter what. However, 58 per cent do care about the manners of others.

About 78 per cent of the respondents learned their manners from elders, and apart from that, schools and television programmes are major conduits, with 59 per cent choosing either option. (These are not either-or questions.) Half of the people also learned their courtesy ropes from books or newspapers. Only about a quarter have used the Internet as a learning tool for social graces.

Strangely, Shanghai people show less willingness than Cantonese in taking the initiative. Overall, only 46 per cent said they would seek out knowledge in this area. However, 62 per cent said schools should set up courses in etiquette and again Cantonese are more proactive than their Beijing or Shanghai brethren.

Some traditional conventions have come under attack as they are accused of being out of touch with modern-day reality. The survey found a wide discrepancy in public attitudes. While 79 per cent of Cantonese prefer keeping traditions as they are, only 30 per cent of Beijingers share this view. Beijingers tend to take a reformist approach as 45 per cent said some customs should be maintained with some tinkering. Very few people advocate a wholesale abolition of age-old civility codes.

"Most of our customs are something we should treasure," said Sun Jian, a Guangzhou man with twin daughters. "They represent values and ethics of our civilization. If we lose them in our generation, it might be hard to restore them. As the human bond in our society is getting less intimate, we should cherish and protect them, adapt them if necessary, rather than discarding them like trash from last night."

Red envelopes-symbolic of good luck or much more?

The anticipation with which Chinese children look forward to Spring Festival can only be matched by that of children in the West who dream of Santa Clause and his sleigh loaded with presents.

Of all the excitement of the Lunar New Year holiday, children say ya sui qian - or red envelopes containing gift money - as the predominant reason for celebration. "The one thing I love about the Chinese New Year is when I receive ya sui qian; and the one thing I hate most about it, is when I have to give out ya sui qian," says Huang Mei, a Hubei native who now works for a Beijing Internet company.

The ya sui qian custom has been an integral part of the Chinese New Year for thousands of years. Folklore has it that a goblin named "sui" - a synonym for "year" - would visit children on New Year's eve and touch their foreheads, causing illness. To drive away the goblins, or rather to bribe them, parents would give some token money to their children and some would tie it to the foot of the child's bed with a red thread. But this practice, reminiscent of Christmas stockings filled with toys, is extinct. Instead, family members tend to pass out red envelopes at the end of the New Year eve banquet.

Fatter envelopes

The rule of thumb is for the married to give to the single, and more common, the older generations to give to the young, especially the under aged. Sometimes, grown-up sons and daughters give larger amounts of money to their parents during their Spring Festival visits, it is not called ya sui qian.

In the old days, each packet of ya sui qian usually came in the amount of five or 10 yuan (US$1.2), and it might not even be in a red envelope. But rising prosperity has changed that. Nowadays a red envelope usually encloses a few hundred yuan. The amount can escalate into the thousands if the giver is wealthy or in a generous mood.

Depending on how many uncles, aunts and grandparents a child has, he or she may pocket a small fortune before the Lunar New Year firecrackers drive away the proverbial devils and monsters of another year. It has been reported that in cities like Beijing children can easily pass the thousand-yuan mark, and a tally of 5,000 yuan (US$604) in total is by no means unheard-of.

A survey of Beijing children a year ago found that the average total of ya sui qian was 1,400 yuan (US$170) per child. However, most of them did not care where it came from. About 60 per cent responded that "it came from banks," and only 20 per cent said "this was hard-earned money by elders."

When children are flooded with so much cash, they may well feel dizzy and get carried away. Some of them start spending like there is no tomorrow. A bunch of children in Shenzhen went to an upscale restaurant and started ordering expensive liquor. The management refused to serve them alcoholic drinks, and they ordered 2,000-yuan (US$242) of dishes anyway, and walked out without finishing half of them. "That's the way rich people live," they rationalized.

Some parents attempt to rein in this kind of spendthrift behaviour by taking over the "management" of this New Year fund. But this is often met with resistance. Experts say that there should be a middle ground between virtually confiscating the money and a laissez-faire approach. The former could harm the children' self-respect and is not conducive to establishing mutual trust; and the latter might mold one into a big spender down the road.

They suggest that parents open bank accounts in the children's names and teach them about personal finance. Some encourage children to spend the money on necessities like books and stationery while others gently push the children to engage in a little philanthropy by donating part of the money to less fortunate children who may be suffering from poverty or natural disasters.

Variation on a theme

In recent years, ya sui qian has been taking on new variants. Some give out special bank cards, and some prefer to give books and other gifts. Li Ayi, a Nanjing mother, got an insurance policy for her teenage son with his holiday fund: "I want him to cultivate the good habit of frugality and learn something about the modern concept of financial management."

However, many people argue that negative effects have been creeping into the ya sui qian ritual and it now has a fatal flaw that no amount of balancing can fix: Corrupt officials sometimes use it as an excuse to soak up bribes.

"Central government forbids officials from accepting red envelopes. Some have bypassed the rule and let their children take ya sui qian from people who want to curry favour," explained Lu Ruming, a Fujian official. "And this kind of ya sui qian often has thousands or tens of thousands per packet."

Even when there is no corruption involved, the custom of ya sui qian can go astray and transform into a richer-than-thou competition and a heavy burden for the impoverished. Ma Tinggang, a Shandong office clerk, said that he and his wife have "three fears" during the holiday season: "We are afraid that we might inadvertently skip some who should be on the list of our ya sui qian recipients; then, we tremble at the possibility that the sum we give may be lower than the ever-rising new standard; and finally, giving it a tad late could be seen as disrespectful and may well lead to higher payout. Say, my friend gives my child 100 yuan (US$12), I may feel guilty about forgetting it or excluding him in our list and be obliged to give his child 200 in return."

But Ma's worst fear is to bump into his supervisor on the street, with nephews, nieces or grandchildren in tow. "What should I do? How much should I give each of them? How much can I afford?"

Like Ma, many in China worry that, when it comes to ya sui qian giving, the holiday blessing could be a nuisance in disguise. And their worry turns into dread, dispelling some of the joy of the festivities.



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