By Wieland Wagner
In Lucerne, they don't have any time to see the famous Chapel Bridge -- but they do have time for shopping. Liu buys a diamond-studded Omega watch for 3,700. Another passenger does one better, spending 5,000 on a "Laolishi" -- a Rolex. A perfect copy would cost her 30 in China. But the Chinese are intend on showing off their new wealth, so the Rolex has to be authentic, preferably with a gold armband.
This is globalization with an ironic twist. After fueling their rise to wealth and power with counterfeit versions of Western merchandise, the Chinese are now spending the profits on the originals.
Every famous brand-name luxury item catches the eye of these Asian students of capitalism: leather Gucci bags, Belgian chocolates, Chanel perfume. Shopping sprees in luxury boutiques are the high point of the trip in almost every city along the way. In Paris they even go shopping in a department store that belongs to a fellow Chinese -- Hong Kong tycoon Li Ka-shing.
There is one main reason why the tourists have so much money for shopping: They spend almost nothing on anything else. The group breaks the journey at rest stops to use the toilets and stock up on free hot water. They all have their own thermos bottles with them; the tea leaves to go with the water have been brought from China.
Government official Li Xiwen, 58, would even prefer to boil up his own instant noodles at rest stops, but tour director Luo forbids it. "What will the foreigners think of the Chinese if we sit on the corner and slurp our noodles? We will lose face!"
Broadening the Mind
Luo, originally from Taiwan, has been living on the Chinese mainland for the past five years. He studied tourism in school, but most of the time he comes across like a teacher on a class trip. Like other Taiwanese who are helping modernize China with their expertise, Luo believes it is his mission to educate. His goal, on this trip, is to familiarize his clients with Western manners and behavioral rules.
This is a delicate task that requires tact and sensitivity on his part. It isn't until the bus reaches Switzerland, just as the Chinese are admiring the pristine Alpine scenery, that Luo takes the opportunity to deliver his lecture.
The Swiss are a few steps ahead of the Chinese when it comes to cleanliness, he says. For example, the Swiss have a hard time understanding the Chinese habit of constantly blowing their noses loudly. "They ask me if everyone in my group is chronically ill," says Luo. His pupils take the hint.
They behave until they reach Paris, eager to benefit from the learning experience they've come to Europe to get. They diligently take notes when Luo discusses the history and day-to-day lives of Europeans, knowing that they'll use the information to shape their own futures.
"We've spent the last 20 years worrying about filling our stomachs," says Li Jiangang, a 38-year-old engineer who manages a hydroelectric power plant in Ganzu Province. "But now we can think about how to improve our quality of life."
This is one of the reasons the Chinese are doing their utmost to absorb every aspect of European progress they see flashing by the tinted windows of their bus. The People's Republic, they reason, can certainly learn a lot from Germany, Austria and Switzerland, where they witness an astonishingly green and well-tended environment. Everyone on the bus agrees, although the people living in these countries make a somewhat lethargic impression on the Chinese.
And what about Amsterdam, which seems almost overrun with dark-skinned immigrants and where half-naked prostitutes advertise their charms behind red-lit windows? The Dutch metropolis definitely has too much "luan" -- chaos -- for the Chinese, and they're happy to leave the city in the evening and head to Belgium and on to their last stop, Paris. But the French capital turns out to be the biggest disappointment of Operation Far West.
When she was a young girl, Liu learned to admire the French as a people worth emulating, because of their polish and elegance. But now, as she stands on the Champs-Élysées with her video camera, she sees them as nothing but ordinary, jostling city dwellers, many of them out of shape and poorly dressed. Bits of paper and plastic bags float around on the street. "My dream has been destroyed," she says.
For these Chinese, France has clearly seen better days. According to Liu there is little left to learn here, at least for young people. She is eager to return to the place that she thinks has a bright future -- China. Operation Flying Dragon has been a success.
Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan
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