New Zealand is stereotyped in China as a fairyland. In reality, what most Chinese know about the country is Anchor butter, kiwifruit, fat sheep and The Lord of the Rings trilogy. It's hard to find a New Zealand travel guide in Shanghai's bookstores.
Perhaps that's why my trip as a journalist, attending Massey University's journalism programme for a month, has been unforgettable and not just because of the scenery. After breathing fresh Kiwi air for weeks, I think a more accurate definition might be "a fairly comfortable land".
Thursday, February 24
My first day in New Zealand is bittersweet. Under the threat of aggressive black dogs at the Auckland Airport Customs desk, I throw away bags of beloved pickled duck meat, Chinese floral tea and two peaches.
The loss of hometown food makes me instantly a bit homesick. But outside, a clear, sunny sky dotted with sheep-like clouds immediately brightens my mood.
Later I begin to understand the fuss. This is a genuinely unpolluted land. White lace curtains, which perfectly match white seaside houses, swing across the dustless country. It seems they never turn grey.
Back home, it's more polluted and buildings are going up at a great rate. A white curtain I put up in my Shanghai home turned grey after a month.
I haven't installed white curtains since.
Friday, March 4
My classmates on the one-year journalism course range in age from 20 to 50. They are former teachers, students and even musicians. It is easier to change profession here, and it's never too late to begin a new life. I'm envious.
Most Chinese spend their whole life in the same job, especially my parents' generation.
Only a few of China's huge population get the opportunity for university education - the entry exam is tough. It's education that leads so many Chinese parents to spend huge money sending children to countries where it is easier to get into university. In China you can't choose majors at will.
The class gathers in the garden of a sports bar. The conversation shocks me - none of my Kiwi friends' families appear to be free from divorce, affairs or babies out of wedlock.
The divorce rate is growing in China - up 21 per cent between 2003 and 2004 - but it's still far lower than in New Zealand.
A girl from Dunedin tells me her divorced parents are still good friends, and the whole family gather every Christmas as it did in the past. I'm glad to hear this and hope it happens in China too in the future.
Saturday, March 5
Today is the dragon boat festival in Wellington. I'm surprised to find our traditional Chinese boats have had the most important of their adornments - the dragon head usually at the front of the boat - removed.
It's disappointing, too, that the drum, which Chinese use to control the rhythm of paddling, is missing. And most people don't know of the sport's Chinese origins.
A highly respected poet-philosopher, Qu Yuan, committed suicide by jumping into a river after learning his corrupt home state, Chu, had been invaded. Legend says that fishermen raced out with their boats to save him, but were too late. To prevent his body being eaten by fish, they beat the water with their paddles and threw rice dumplings wrapped in reed leaves into the river.
Chinese still eat rice dumplings and race dragon boats in late May to mid-June to remember him.
However, dragon boating on the blue sea is more exciting than at home, where it's always on lakes or rivers. Kiwis, I decide, are giant, muscular and smiling, with healthy pink cheeks.
Sunday, March 6
I struggle with the strong Wellington wind and finally get to the Colonial Cottage Museum on Nairn St, the former home of English immigrant carpenter William Wallis and his family.
They lived in the house from 1858 to 1977. The lush garden is planted with rosemary, lavender and even has a tree of red apples.
The cottage has two guides this afternoon, an old lady and a young one, each in long skirts. The old lady uses two red chopsticks to make a chignon of her silver hair. We have a pleasant afternoon tea, sitting on an old-fashioned sofa, accompanied by classical music and the chirping of a tiny yellow bird in a cage.
I think back to something my father said: He was happy about my trip and he used a Chinese word, "chun pu", to describe Kiwis. It means "simple and sincere". Well, Daddy is right.
Sunday, March 13
Auckland is New Zealand's version of Shanghai. Busy, bustling and commercialised. All my Kiwi friends say the South Island is much more beautiful than the north. But in my eyes the north is already gorgeous. I find a hot-spring swimming pool surrounded by forest.
And the clouds. Clouds are New Zealand's best treasure. No matter whether it's continuous snow-capped mountains, mirror-like lakes, endless lawns or seas dotted with white sails, the cloud is the best adornment.
Thursday, March 17
I have grown accustomed to Kiwi classroom rules - do whatever you like. The feet and legs of my classmates can be on the table, on their own chair or on another chair during a class. Shoes are usually missing. And there are so many sandals or bare feet on the streets.
During an interview with a member of Amnesty International, one of my classmates kicked off her shoes and sat on her legs on the sofa, like a happy Buddha, although her interviewer was an elegant lady in a suit.
Chinese teachers would consider this sort of thing seriously disrespectful. Kiwi students walk in and out of lectures as if in a supermarket. They interrupt lecturers, sometimes just to show off their knowledge, or debate a viewpoint. For me this is incredible. Students in China are silent in class. We cannot eat or talk. If we want to go out or have questions, we ask permission of the lecturer.
Friday, March 18
If I have shopping plans in New Zealand, I have to hurry up after classes end at 3pm. Most shops in Shanghai open until 10pm or 10.30pm.
My short Kiwi experience has turned on its head my Chinese conception of what constitutes success. Life here is much more important than work. If you are doing something you like, this is success. Life is really too short not to enjoy.
But I cannot admire local street fashion. "People don't know how to dress," my friend complains. But at least they dare to dress to suit themselves, to have fun: cheap-looking plastic earrings, an elegant coat matching a sexy vest or a giant fake flower garnishing a ponytail.
Asian girls dress for others, for face. Showing off. Asian girls are crazy for big brands or expensive trendy clothes, no matter whether they're comfortable or not. I haven't tasted much Chinese food here. But all my Chinese friends complain about the quality of it, and sometimes they choose Malaysian or Japanese.
New Zealand food is better than I imagined. Milk and yoghurt taste rich and pure. Manuka honey is a perfect spread.
* Michelle Qiao has been a reporter for Shanghai Daily, Shanghai's only English newspaper, for five years, and is the author of Dining in Shanghai, published last year. She has been in New Zealand on an exchange programme with Massey University's School of Journalism, sponsored by the Asia New Zealand Foundation and Massey.
<EM>Michelle Qiao:</EM> In Chinese eyes, the clouds are our best feature
Michelle Qiao
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