Fast forward 3 weeks, and I am officially a Chinese resident (according to my temporary Chinese residency permit). My vocabulary has multiplied by about 10 thanks to my patient Chinese friends, but I’m not sure how much that is saying considering my lack of speaking abilities to begin with. I’ve been practicing my dialogue abilities with various taxi drivers; we usually run out of conversation within 30 seconds or less, but that’s 30 seconds or less that I couldn’t speak/understand before. I can also correctly, with the proper tones and everything, say: ‘I hear, but I don’t understand,’ ‘I do not want cilantro on my dish’ and ‘class is over,’ all of which have served me well. I’ve already found my regular restaurants where they recognize my roommate and I. Granted it’s probably not hard considering we’re the only white people there, but it’s nice nonetheless. My liver has also been taking quite the hit this past month. Maybe I’m trying to relive my college days, maybe I’m bored, or maybe I’m just susceptible to the peer pressure by the other foreigners, but somehow, a beer ends up in my hand every night, and I keep frequenting the clubs that I claim to detest. C’est la vie! If I had a Chinese translation of this, it would be far more appropriate, but I don’t, so tough.
People did warn me that Shijiazhuang was dirty, polluted, and had little to do for fun. Well, turns out they were right, but I still like it here. A friend of mine called the city “a piece of real China,” which I think describes it perfectly. There are no tourist traps, the restaurants and shops are not targeted toward English speakers, and I’ve yet to see a vendor sitting on the street corner selling cheap plastic replicas of the Great Wall. The one fun filled exception would be the trip to the zoo, which was by far and away the best zoo I’ve ever been to. Not only was it a gorgeous, pagoda filled haven, but I got to sit on an elephant, pet a giraffe, and for 75 cents I was able to dangle raw chicken on a stick into the crocodile reservoir. I thought the crocodiles would be snapping and jumping for the meat, but instead they just sat there, eerily still, until they suddenly snatched the chicken out of my unsuspecting hands and made me scream like a little girl. Quite possibly the coolest and most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. Aside from the zoo, the lack of recreational activities does, however, in fact mean that I have been spending a good chunk of my free time watching all 5 seasons of Desperate Housewives over cups of tea with Nadya, my kick ass roommate. Yeah, it turns out having a roommate is fantastic, and I would probably be desperately lonely without her. She and the other foreigners have been a spectacular source of entertainment and company, and without them, I would most likely be sitting in room alone curled up in the fetal position and wanting to go home.
Now, I would like to venture out and explore other cities of China, which I will get to eventually, but a few obstacles have managed to prevent me. First, there’s that old nuisance of employment and having to hang around to do the job they hired me to do. That’s a topic that deserves its own blog, so my teaching experiences will have to come on a different day. The next and probably biggest barrier is H1N1, the god damn swine flu. Three colleges in the area have been quarantined and have had their holidays canceled and are forced to stay on campus. China’s 60th national celebration is coming up in the first week of October, and I was going to take advantage of this break by busting out of Shijiazhuang and wrecking havoc in other cities. Unfortunately, this might not be in the cards for me, and I could spend the entire “vacation” stuck on campus without any new episodes of Desperate Housewives! Life just isn’t fair! Although, it is probably considerably less fair to those who actually have swine flu, but still, they’re ruining it for the rest of us! I never said I wasn’t a selfish bitch. So here’s hoping that several weeks from now, you will be reading a blog about my glorious outings in China, and not a blog pissing and moaning about how much my life sucks and how I’m going to seek vengeance on the Chinese swine flu victims! So until next time, xai jian! (It means goodbye…can’t believe you didn’t know that.)
Saturday, September 26, 2009
This probably should have been two blogs...
Warning: this blog could take you a while to get through, so grab a beer, get comfortable, and read about my first full week in China. That’s right, you heard me, I survived my first week. If you have been following along, you know that I am not actually able to post this blog myself due to the restrictions and filters of the Chinese internet. I for one think it’s admirable the government is looking after its citizens by prohibiting free speech and monitoring the sites they are able to look at. It’s like having a big brother. (Did you get the reference? 1984? Big Brother?) Just checking. Well, if my sarcasm didn’t come through loud and clear, let me clarify, I think this sucks. But, I knew about the government when I signed on for this gig, so I guess my only option is to stop bitching and find people to help me get around the system. Which I did. HA.
I’ve already given you the down and dirty version of my very first night of arrival. Well since that night, my week has been a blur of car horns, bowls of noodles, free whiskey, cheap shopping, transvestites, cabbie fights, and being on the receiving end of a lot of staring and pointing. And you read correctly, I did say transvestites. I’ll get to that later. So, first day, a family volunteered to put me up for a few days until I could move into my apartment at the university. Seems nice, right? And they were nice, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t weird. Apparently some Chinese people are fascinated by foreigners, like we’re some sort of zoo exhibit, and we should be observed and studied. So this family watched my every move, and if I left, they called my Chinese speaking friends to know when I would I return and if they thought I should have been back already. Last time I checked I was an adult, but maybe I can chock it up to them being cautious on my behalf. The awesome part of the deal was that the family cooked for me, and let me tell you, the dumplings they made were in my top 5 favorite meals ever. I think they were actually made by angels. So a free place to stay, good food, and oh yeah, a 13 year old boy whose parents want him to learn English. During the day, I spent my free time with NaNa (as in hey, hey, hey, goodbye), a 13 year old who wanted to learn English as much as I wanted to stick a hot curling iron up my bum. But his parents insist that we spend the day together “learning from each other.” I did my best to teach him English, but he much preferred to watch Chinese television involving a warrior, a pig, and I think it was some kind of monkey. If I tried to work on my Chinese, he corrected my pronunciation by shouting at me. No joke, this kid spoke in normal volumes until it was time to tell me how much my Chinese sucked. Ah well, all part of the experience I guess. So the really weird part came when it was time to leave for the university. The family wanted to follow along so they could see where I lived and come see me whenever they wanted. Not that I don’t appreciate being put up for a couple nights, but really? Does that mean you can have unlimited access to me for free English lessons or observational practices? Not in my book, suckas. Peace out, I’m gone. Except that I left my photo album there so I will have to make one more appearance. Fuck.
So now I am settled, somewhat, into my apartment on the university campus, and it is pretty damn big; so big in fact that it echoes. I haven’t determined whether this is a good thing or not, because it is such a big open space that it borders on creepy, and the dirty white walls and dim fluorescent lighting make me feel like a straight jacket would be welcome attire. So it turns out I’m going to have a roommate, which I was not told about beforehand, so we’ll have to see how it goes with some chick named Nadia from Belarus. Hopefully she’s cool and isn’t offended by a little (or a lot of) mess. A couple interesting notes on my apartment: I have a sunroom for hanging and drying my clothes, which seems delightfully quaint to me. The kitchen, or should I say “kitchen” is a giant room with a refrigerator that smells of old vinegar, and a microwave and a hot plate. No counters, drawers, utensils, or sink. That’s right, I’ll be washing dishes in the bathroom. And speaking of bathrooms, if you are ever in China, don’t flush the toilet paper. Learned that one the hard way. The thing that baffles me most about Chinese homes is the lack of a shower area; the bathroom has a showerhead in it and you just hang out in the wide open space with no shower curtain or boundaries to restrict you. Kind of nice if you have claustrophobia of shower spaces. I personally don’t, but if you do, Chinese bathrooms will be right up your alley. Oh, and a on a quick note, the power and water have been going out spontaneously because of bridges being built nearby, the longest stretch being three days. Yeah, you can guess what I smelled like. Moving along…
So now I am starting to get acclimated and the first week has been what I would constitute as successful, but that does not mean I have not received my fair share of culture shock. Let’s talk for a moment about assless pants, because they seem to be all the rage for kids these days. Yep, kids don’t wear diapers because the world is their toilet, and why not eliminate inconvenience altogether by ripping the ass out of the pants? Who needs to waste time pulling pants down when there is a more efficient alternative? Now, I’m all for maximizing convenience and efficiency, and when I’m in a particularly long line in a women’s restroom I sometimes wish the world were my toilet, but it’s not and I have yet to get used to this. Walking down the street often results in unexpected and particularly atrocious smell pockets that smell like, well, shit. So there’s human feces to deal with, and I’m sad to report that I have not yet acclimated to the driving or crossing the street. These drivers are seriously deranged. We’re talking swerving into oncoming traffic to avoid waiting at a light and putting at least two cars next to each other in a one lane road. If a pedestrian dare try and venture out into the crosswalk, they are taking their own lives in their hands. My safest bet is to try and cross with another Chinese person who knows the ropes. It really is like a game of Frogger, and I’m still not convinced I’m going to win.
Speaking of driving experiences, on my very first solo taxi ride, I had the good fortune of encountering a lovely cab driver whose mother apparently never taught him that violence is not the answer. So I’m sitting in the back seat reveling in my glory that I successfully communicated to the cab driver where I wanted to go, and another cab driver cut us off. (At least that’s what I’m assuming, but with their driving, I don’t know how you differentiate between rude driving and just the norm). My cab driver starts screaming what I can only assume are obscenities and gesturing wildly out the window to this other miscreant, and before I know it we are stopped at a red light and my cab driver is out of the car, dragging the other driver out by his shirt collar and they are fist fighting in the street. I am just cowering in the back seat sending a text message to friends to inquire if this is normal. It’s not. So my cab driver apparently gives up after a while and returns to the car as if nothing has happened, and I can’t help but wonder, was it really necessary to keep the meter running?
As this blog is dragging on ridiculously, I will sum up one final experience that I think helps set the tone for my first week in China. Chinese night life. I met the other foreign teachers in the building, and they are big fans of the Shijiazhuang club scene. Oh and by the way, they’re awesome, and I really like them all, and I’m not just saying that in case they read this. Being more of a hole in the wall bar fan myself, I was quite the skeptic on the whole club thing. Basically, it can be equated to American clubs: loud crappy techno music, people in slutty attire out on the prowl trying to get laid, and crappy dancing. There were some differences, however, that I should note. First off, it pays to be a foreigner for the fact that we get free liquor in many clubs. I’m telling you, foreigners are novelty items over here. Next, I’ve never been to an American club where a python-laden Chinese transvestite was headlining; and if you’re wondering, yes, I touched the snake. (That is not a metaphor). I’ve also picked up on a club specific dice game with special hand signals that is a dice equivalent to the card game “bullshit.” All in all, a good week, and I haven’t had the peking pork scared out of me just yet.
I’ve already given you the down and dirty version of my very first night of arrival. Well since that night, my week has been a blur of car horns, bowls of noodles, free whiskey, cheap shopping, transvestites, cabbie fights, and being on the receiving end of a lot of staring and pointing. And you read correctly, I did say transvestites. I’ll get to that later. So, first day, a family volunteered to put me up for a few days until I could move into my apartment at the university. Seems nice, right? And they were nice, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t weird. Apparently some Chinese people are fascinated by foreigners, like we’re some sort of zoo exhibit, and we should be observed and studied. So this family watched my every move, and if I left, they called my Chinese speaking friends to know when I would I return and if they thought I should have been back already. Last time I checked I was an adult, but maybe I can chock it up to them being cautious on my behalf. The awesome part of the deal was that the family cooked for me, and let me tell you, the dumplings they made were in my top 5 favorite meals ever. I think they were actually made by angels. So a free place to stay, good food, and oh yeah, a 13 year old boy whose parents want him to learn English. During the day, I spent my free time with NaNa (as in hey, hey, hey, goodbye), a 13 year old who wanted to learn English as much as I wanted to stick a hot curling iron up my bum. But his parents insist that we spend the day together “learning from each other.” I did my best to teach him English, but he much preferred to watch Chinese television involving a warrior, a pig, and I think it was some kind of monkey. If I tried to work on my Chinese, he corrected my pronunciation by shouting at me. No joke, this kid spoke in normal volumes until it was time to tell me how much my Chinese sucked. Ah well, all part of the experience I guess. So the really weird part came when it was time to leave for the university. The family wanted to follow along so they could see where I lived and come see me whenever they wanted. Not that I don’t appreciate being put up for a couple nights, but really? Does that mean you can have unlimited access to me for free English lessons or observational practices? Not in my book, suckas. Peace out, I’m gone. Except that I left my photo album there so I will have to make one more appearance. Fuck.
So now I am settled, somewhat, into my apartment on the university campus, and it is pretty damn big; so big in fact that it echoes. I haven’t determined whether this is a good thing or not, because it is such a big open space that it borders on creepy, and the dirty white walls and dim fluorescent lighting make me feel like a straight jacket would be welcome attire. So it turns out I’m going to have a roommate, which I was not told about beforehand, so we’ll have to see how it goes with some chick named Nadia from Belarus. Hopefully she’s cool and isn’t offended by a little (or a lot of) mess. A couple interesting notes on my apartment: I have a sunroom for hanging and drying my clothes, which seems delightfully quaint to me. The kitchen, or should I say “kitchen” is a giant room with a refrigerator that smells of old vinegar, and a microwave and a hot plate. No counters, drawers, utensils, or sink. That’s right, I’ll be washing dishes in the bathroom. And speaking of bathrooms, if you are ever in China, don’t flush the toilet paper. Learned that one the hard way. The thing that baffles me most about Chinese homes is the lack of a shower area; the bathroom has a showerhead in it and you just hang out in the wide open space with no shower curtain or boundaries to restrict you. Kind of nice if you have claustrophobia of shower spaces. I personally don’t, but if you do, Chinese bathrooms will be right up your alley. Oh, and a on a quick note, the power and water have been going out spontaneously because of bridges being built nearby, the longest stretch being three days. Yeah, you can guess what I smelled like. Moving along…
So now I am starting to get acclimated and the first week has been what I would constitute as successful, but that does not mean I have not received my fair share of culture shock. Let’s talk for a moment about assless pants, because they seem to be all the rage for kids these days. Yep, kids don’t wear diapers because the world is their toilet, and why not eliminate inconvenience altogether by ripping the ass out of the pants? Who needs to waste time pulling pants down when there is a more efficient alternative? Now, I’m all for maximizing convenience and efficiency, and when I’m in a particularly long line in a women’s restroom I sometimes wish the world were my toilet, but it’s not and I have yet to get used to this. Walking down the street often results in unexpected and particularly atrocious smell pockets that smell like, well, shit. So there’s human feces to deal with, and I’m sad to report that I have not yet acclimated to the driving or crossing the street. These drivers are seriously deranged. We’re talking swerving into oncoming traffic to avoid waiting at a light and putting at least two cars next to each other in a one lane road. If a pedestrian dare try and venture out into the crosswalk, they are taking their own lives in their hands. My safest bet is to try and cross with another Chinese person who knows the ropes. It really is like a game of Frogger, and I’m still not convinced I’m going to win.
Speaking of driving experiences, on my very first solo taxi ride, I had the good fortune of encountering a lovely cab driver whose mother apparently never taught him that violence is not the answer. So I’m sitting in the back seat reveling in my glory that I successfully communicated to the cab driver where I wanted to go, and another cab driver cut us off. (At least that’s what I’m assuming, but with their driving, I don’t know how you differentiate between rude driving and just the norm). My cab driver starts screaming what I can only assume are obscenities and gesturing wildly out the window to this other miscreant, and before I know it we are stopped at a red light and my cab driver is out of the car, dragging the other driver out by his shirt collar and they are fist fighting in the street. I am just cowering in the back seat sending a text message to friends to inquire if this is normal. It’s not. So my cab driver apparently gives up after a while and returns to the car as if nothing has happened, and I can’t help but wonder, was it really necessary to keep the meter running?
As this blog is dragging on ridiculously, I will sum up one final experience that I think helps set the tone for my first week in China. Chinese night life. I met the other foreign teachers in the building, and they are big fans of the Shijiazhuang club scene. Oh and by the way, they’re awesome, and I really like them all, and I’m not just saying that in case they read this. Being more of a hole in the wall bar fan myself, I was quite the skeptic on the whole club thing. Basically, it can be equated to American clubs: loud crappy techno music, people in slutty attire out on the prowl trying to get laid, and crappy dancing. There were some differences, however, that I should note. First off, it pays to be a foreigner for the fact that we get free liquor in many clubs. I’m telling you, foreigners are novelty items over here. Next, I’ve never been to an American club where a python-laden Chinese transvestite was headlining; and if you’re wondering, yes, I touched the snake. (That is not a metaphor). I’ve also picked up on a club specific dice game with special hand signals that is a dice equivalent to the card game “bullshit.” All in all, a good week, and I haven’t had the peking pork scared out of me just yet.
Leaving on a Jet Plane
I did it! I am in China, and not once have I lay down in the middle of the crowds and asked the world to swallow me whole. I take this as a good sign. In fact, I haven’t cried once since my arrival in China (and if you’ve read my former blogs, you know this is a pretty incredible feat). I just spent my first night in a hotel, which is pretty nice and in the States would cost at least $100 for a night, and I paid the equivalent of $32. Booyah! Although, everything seems so cheap and it feels like fake money, so I better change my outlook and spending habits pretty quickly or I’m going to head back with no money to my name. So after an 11 hour flight, taxi rides, train rides, and walks through the rain and lighting, here are my quick first impressions/observations/lessons learned in China:
1. The squat toilets were not a myth. I should have been peeing in the woods more often for practice. I’ve got to learn to control the splashing or my entire salary will be spent on laundry detergent. Gross.
2. I better get rid of my space issues, and quickly. Personal space bubbles do not exist here. If there is enough space for one person, it is being occupied by three people.
3. Being polite will not get you anywhere except pissed off. Barging to the front of the line and pushing and shoving to get where you need to go is not rude, it’s a survival tactic.
4. When riding in a car, just close your eyes and trust that you will come out alive. Get rid of your reliance on blinkers, crosswalks, the courtesy wave, or anything that could be considered considerate driving.
5. People stare. I like to think it is because I’m fascinating and they can just tell I have an interesting soul, not because I’m white. I ended up smiling at people which elicited multiple responses. Some smiled back and then giggled to themselves, and others looked at me as if I were a farm animal that just started busting out break dancing. Whatever, for the most part people have been incredibly nice to me. Multiple people stepped forward to help the struggling white girl who clearly over packed with her enormous suitcases. I could get used to it.
So, basically, these are the quick “mini lessons” I’ve gathered from my journey from the airport to Shijiazhuang. Not a hell of a lot to go on yet, but enough to give me a taste of what I’m in for. To be honest, I really thought I’d be panicking by now, and maybe I’m just sleep deprived, but the initial terror has not set in. I already know I’m going miss my family, friends, and Barrett, but I think I’ll be alright. To quote a wise person, me, if you get too comfortable, you’re not challenging yourself, and it’s good to go get scared shitless. So here’s to crapping myself out of fear. Here goes nothing.
1. The squat toilets were not a myth. I should have been peeing in the woods more often for practice. I’ve got to learn to control the splashing or my entire salary will be spent on laundry detergent. Gross.
2. I better get rid of my space issues, and quickly. Personal space bubbles do not exist here. If there is enough space for one person, it is being occupied by three people.
3. Being polite will not get you anywhere except pissed off. Barging to the front of the line and pushing and shoving to get where you need to go is not rude, it’s a survival tactic.
4. When riding in a car, just close your eyes and trust that you will come out alive. Get rid of your reliance on blinkers, crosswalks, the courtesy wave, or anything that could be considered considerate driving.
5. People stare. I like to think it is because I’m fascinating and they can just tell I have an interesting soul, not because I’m white. I ended up smiling at people which elicited multiple responses. Some smiled back and then giggled to themselves, and others looked at me as if I were a farm animal that just started busting out break dancing. Whatever, for the most part people have been incredibly nice to me. Multiple people stepped forward to help the struggling white girl who clearly over packed with her enormous suitcases. I could get used to it.
So, basically, these are the quick “mini lessons” I’ve gathered from my journey from the airport to Shijiazhuang. Not a hell of a lot to go on yet, but enough to give me a taste of what I’m in for. To be honest, I really thought I’d be panicking by now, and maybe I’m just sleep deprived, but the initial terror has not set in. I already know I’m going miss my family, friends, and Barrett, but I think I’ll be alright. To quote a wise person, me, if you get too comfortable, you’re not challenging yourself, and it’s good to go get scared shitless. So here’s to crapping myself out of fear. Here goes nothing.
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