SINCE its inception, weibo, or China's answer to Twitter, has been a forum, a battleground for whistleblowers and a window on China's development.

But weibo is vastly confusing for an average outsider.

Its information grows explosively, it is raucous, filled with slang and neologisms often impenetrable to foreign China watchers, who seem to be peering through a kaleidoscope, colorful yet bewildering.

Take Christoph Rehage, a German student who shot to fame recently for his witty observation about China. Rehage studies Chinese in the University of Munich, is fluent in Chinese, and has written a book based his travels in China.

He has reached, by foot, faraway places even most Chinese have never heard of. He knows China better than many Western reporters. Still, China's myriad complexities perplex him.

Weibo is one such complexity. Rehage, whose Chinese name is Lei Ke, runs his own Sina weibo account "Lei Ke the Hooligan," followed closely by tens of thousands of web users.

With such a large following, he is an opinion leader of sorts, but that title means as much sweetness as bitterness for him.

Inconsistent logic

Rehage has complained online that his weibo posts often provoke criticism, and his critics are eccentrically inconsistent in their logic.

When he noted in posts that China is imperfect in some ways, he got called a chou lao wai, or rank foreigner; when he argued that China's development is on the right path, he was cursed as a yang wu mao, or foreign hack.

Perhaps the conflicting, schizophrenic stances are not that hard to understand. Many Chinese grow up being taught that their country is not perfect but it's none of foreigners' business to point this out.

That said, Rehage did uncover the unpleasant side of weibo's splendid success, that extremism makes it hard for reasonable, civilized discussion to take place on weibo.

Once in a while I surf the comment section of websites of newspapers like the Guardian. There the arguments are often strongly yet politely expressed. However, in China, decorum deteriorates fast.

Rehage understood this to be a result of frustration with life.

Some people wake up every morning already angry at the world and they find the Internet an outlet for stress.

This observation is true, up to a point. Lack of education and abuse of web freedom are more to blame. Many behave less rudely offline but the anonymity of the Internet encourages them to insult others.

Of course, weibo isn't just a tool for letting off steam.

Fragile confidence

On topics where common ground can be sought, courteous exchange is possible. But relatively peaceful discussion is occasionally disconcerting, in that it reveals to the outside world the fragile self-confidence of a rising nation.

According to Rehage, Chinese netizens are either annoyingly arrogant or blindly obsequious toward other countries.

Rehage said he often came across online posts that exaggerate the "admirable traits" of the Germans.

For example, in response to a post titled "Feel the German strictness and experience the rise of Germany through 23 details," Rehage refuted, one by one, the presented details and said as a German he could prove they were but well-intended myths.

We all tend to apply stereotypes to others. In Germany's case, the stereotypes are mostly good.

But as Rehage has found out, the many good traits of the Germans are actually our imagination rather than facts, and individual Germans don't often relish the association with their heavily stereotyped countrymen.

During my work placement with Hamburg-based GEO magazine last year, Torsten Schaefer, a colleague, told me that he was concerned about the Bavarian domination of the German image abroad. Coming from near Frankfurt, Torsten didn't like the association with beer-drinking, pork knuckle-eating Bavarians.

Sweeping statements about other peoples mirror the naivety of the speaker. George Washington once said, the Nation, which indulges towards another an habitual hatred, or an habitual fondness, is in some degree a slave.

Our blind fondness of some foreigners is a kind of self-imposed enslavement. So is our vilification of a neighbor with whom we have bitter war memories.

As such, Rehage felt compelled to help Chinese build their confidence. "You and the United States are both great nations, you need to be more confident of yourselves," he is quoted as saying recently in a newspaper report.

Despite increased contacts with the external world, many Chinese do tend to react emotionally to foreign views or actions about their country, sometimes in a friendly way, sometimes not.

Foreign experiences are cited to either reinforce their inferiority complex or satisfy their superiority to others. This parochial mentality doesn't accord with the image of a burgeoning nation.

At present it's hard for rationality and responsibility to thrive on weibo, which seems like a cesspool where all kinds of vulgarity fester. If we are aware that weibo is followed not just by domestic users, but pored over by keen foreign observers like Rehage, will we think twice before spreading smut that hurts the face of our proud nation?

Western observers of China don't always understand the nation. The judgments they make on oddities like weibo can trigger a ferocious melee, a backlash, leading them to think of Chinese as an "impossible" nation. This is a predicament often felt by those "others" - aliens in a distinct cultural system.

I once read a story in an issue of Dushu journal published in the 90s. Dushu is China's leading intellectual monthly. It was about a foreigner, a longtime resident of Beijing and a fluent Mandarin speaker, who showed the way to a migrant.

Cheerful dialogue turns sour

The dialogue was cheerful at first. But the atmosphere soured when the foreigner added "Welcome to the capital!" as a gesture of good will. For the migrant, Beijing is "our" capital, how dare a foreigner claim it as "his own," as though he were the host?

The cultural exclusion of "others," however well they speak the language, is a puzzle for Rehage. But if he stays long enough to be familiar with such irritating cultural subtlety, he may not find his treatment on weibo so surprising any more.

Western observers of China often cannot avoid sounding West-centric. Still, their accounts are welcome, as they bring new perspectives and broaden our horizons. Rehage, in particular, outdoes his counterparts in objectivity and empathy. It's a pity that his kind is not favored by orthodox Western narrative about China.

Meanwhile, as good hosts, shall we clean up the trash that litters weibo and the Internet? Like Rehage, and my erstwhile German colleague Torsten, I don't wish to be associated with an unfair stereotype.