Alas the day has come; I’m going home. I am sitting at the airport with about 2 hours to kill until I can check in for my flight. Now, my plan was to spend this blog reminiscing and getting all nostalgic about China and how I’ve grown and learned and yada yada yada. But first, I just want to say that Chinese Airport Starbucks dicked me over by selling me gift cards with no money on them! I thought I wouldn’t have to pay for my airport breakfast this morning by using my prepaid gift cards at Starbucks, but low and behold I am drinking my hot chocolate paid for by money out of my pocket! (Cue grumbling and muttering to myself and the onset of a bad mood). I just wanted tell my story to the world so others don’t have to suffer as needlessly as I have. I hear that Starbucks rip offs are among the leading causes of emotional scarring throughout the world.
Well, I refuse to let Airport Starbucks interrupt my blog of wisdom and reflection, so here goes. It’s been a rough morning. Leaving is harder than I thought it would be. For the past few months I’ve been pissing and moaning about the pollution, the poop on the streets (animal or human…you never know), the incessant crowds, the staring…you name it, I’ve bitched about it. I’ve been so amped up to leave that I almost forgot about everything I’m going to miss. My friend Star, probably the best friend I’ve made in China, saw me off this morning, and saying goodbye to that kid was like an emotional punch in the gut. You’ve never met someone so sweet and caring about others. He’s like a teddy bear wrapped in cotton candy and topped with rainbows and sunshine. And there are so many just like him. If I could, I’d stuff them all in my suitcase and take them with me. With the exception of a rare few, I’ve found most Chinese people to be really kind and gracious. (This is excluding some douche bag taxi drivers and the airport employee who sold me the crap gift cards). And then there are the foreign teachers I worked with – a really oddly mixed group of people, but I would not have survived without them. Of all the things I will miss about China, I will miss people the most.
Now, I’m not going to romanticize my experience: to say I’ve loved every second of being in China would be a complete and utter lie. There are times I wanted bitch slap China in the face, and it probably wanted to do the same to me. My relationship with China was kind of like a high school romance – I had my period of infatuation and elation, and then things got a bit rocky and I wanted to take a break. We had high points and low points, and in the end, I will remember the high points fondly, and the low points were learning experiences for my future “relationships.” And just like any break up, I’m crying now that it’s over. But even the things that drove me out of my mind are a part of the culture that I wouldn’t have traded. Yeah, it’s different from what I’m used to, but if I wanted the familiarity of home, I would have stayed there. I’m a different person because of China. I got to immerse myself in a culture that before I had only vaguely learned about in history classes and through Jackie Chan movies. I got to do something I’ve been dreaming about for years, and I like to think I’m slightly the wiser for it.
There are many things I can do that seemed impossible when I first arrived. I remember feeling like an infant when I got here; I couldn’t express myself, I couldn’t order my own food, I couldn’t go anywhere without assistance. I was utterly helpless. I now know enough Chinese to have simple conversations, buy my own train tickets, order meals, and haggle with the best of ‘em. The Chinese language is not the white noise that it once was. Granted, half the time I’m making educated guesses at what they might possibly be saying and about 98% of the time I’m wrong. But that’s a 2% improvement from when I started! Since coming here, I’ve become a better multi-tasker: I can effectively wash dishes while showering. I’m not sure I’ll even remember how to do the dishes with my clothes on. I’ve also gained some aggression. Coming from a formerly passive person, this is actually a positive trait. I no longer politely stand aside while everyone takes advantage of my manners; I can elbow my way to the front of the line. I can shove my way onto a subway when it didn’t seem possible to fit one more person. I can make myself heard in a sea of screaming customers. In short, I traded in my manners for some assertion and learned to survive because of it. I have not, however, improved my ability to use squat toilets. I still manage to pee on myself a little bit every time. I now have deep respect for those who use these on a daily basis without soiling themselves.
What else can I tell you? I guess I learned to give up some of my pre-conceived notions and just go with it. Prior to my trip to China, I had Asians lumped into one category: clean, well mannered, organized and efficient. Turns out, that’s not entirely true. Chinese people come from a traditional, ritualized and structured culture, but that’s old school China. The rituals and traditions are often a thing of the past, and the majority of modern China is pushy, bustling and absolute chaos. I had to adapt. I had to get used to rules and directions and schedules changing on a whim. The cliché ‘expect the unexpected’ became my anthem. China’s constant pandemonium got on my nerves. A LOT. But, it was an awesome reminder that I am on someone else’s turf and I don’t get to dictate how I think someone else’s culture should be run. Living in China has been a pretty humbling experience: my customs and culture are not universal and I need to get over it. Once I stopped comparing and just appreciated China for the unique culture that it is, the irritation took a backseat to awe and observation. If I can take one thing away from China it is this: things are not what they seem and not what you expect, so just enjoy it for what it is. In the words of John Lennon, “Let it be.”
So as I am now leaving to board my plane and will be eating my mom’s lasagna in just 14 short hours, I will part with this: I am different because of China. Not better, not worse, but different. I spent a year in a foreign country that I knew absolutely nothing about. I used balls I didn’t know I had. I am ready to go, but there are many things I’m positive I will miss. I will miss my friends, street barbeques, Chinese babies, deciphering a new language, nightlife, fresh fruits on the street corners, my students, exercising with the foreign teachers, walking down unfamiliar alleys, using chopsticks, cheap beer, and being 100% out of my element. It will be nice to be able to read street signs and shop for all the foods I’ve missed, but I know what’s coming and it’s all expected. I will miss that about my life in China. I know now that my stint in China is not a ‘one-time only’ type of deal. I’m meant to surround myself with the unfamiliar, and someday I will be writing this blog from Honduras, or Morocco, or Finland, or wherever else I’m going to end up. So China, thanks for that. You have been one of the most defining experiences I’ve had to date and I won’t forget you. So take care of yourself China, I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday. Until then, peace out.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Oh China, you got me again
China, China, China. Sometimes I wonder to myself how this culture has survived for thousands of years and hasn’t gone extinct. These are quite clever people, but their lack of common sense/organization/logical planning is as bad as mine. (If you know me well, you know my common sense is practically non-existent). So, I’m hanging out at a café just killing time until the power comes back on in the apartment building. For the next five days, we are living without electricity from noon until midnight. It wouldn’t so bad if it wasn’t as hot as the devil’s rectum in our apartments! Being in the apartment without fans or AC is like sitting in a sauna without the benefits for your skin. So we find out about this two days prior to it happening, which to China’s credit, is quite advanced notice for them. Some of us had the idea that maybe we’ll blow this joint and head somewhere air conditioned for the weekend. Ahhhh, but then comes the second notice.
Right next to the lack of power bulletin is the newest news flash: because of the holiday next week, you will have three days off! However, you must make up all your classes this Saturday and Sunday. Excellent. What puzzles me is this: the holiday, Dragon Boat festival, is not a new holiday. It’s a national holiday that’s been around for a while. So the government, or the school, or Big Brother, or whoever is making the decisions around here has known about this upcoming festival for, presumably, a long time. So why is it that the decision to cancel work and school and convert Saturday and Sunday to the new Monday and Tuesday is happening with less than a week’s notice? I truly don’t understand how people aren’t in an uproar. If this happened in the West, people would be shitting their pants. Imagine that the week of Thanksgiving the government decides that everyone can have Friday off but instead they must work on Sunday. If it wasn’t so irritating, it would be comical. If you are an anal retentive, schedule oriented person, don’t come to China for an extended period time. I’m used to flakiness and change of plans because, well, I’m a flake. I’m just not used to it at a national level. At the end of the day (in which I am sitting in the dark) I realize I just have to roll with it. Maybe this is China’s way of teaching me that things don’t always go as planned. Suck it up and move on. End of story. But damn China, working on the weekend AND no AC? That’s harsh. I guess you got me again.
Right next to the lack of power bulletin is the newest news flash: because of the holiday next week, you will have three days off! However, you must make up all your classes this Saturday and Sunday. Excellent. What puzzles me is this: the holiday, Dragon Boat festival, is not a new holiday. It’s a national holiday that’s been around for a while. So the government, or the school, or Big Brother, or whoever is making the decisions around here has known about this upcoming festival for, presumably, a long time. So why is it that the decision to cancel work and school and convert Saturday and Sunday to the new Monday and Tuesday is happening with less than a week’s notice? I truly don’t understand how people aren’t in an uproar. If this happened in the West, people would be shitting their pants. Imagine that the week of Thanksgiving the government decides that everyone can have Friday off but instead they must work on Sunday. If it wasn’t so irritating, it would be comical. If you are an anal retentive, schedule oriented person, don’t come to China for an extended period time. I’m used to flakiness and change of plans because, well, I’m a flake. I’m just not used to it at a national level. At the end of the day (in which I am sitting in the dark) I realize I just have to roll with it. Maybe this is China’s way of teaching me that things don’t always go as planned. Suck it up and move on. End of story. But damn China, working on the weekend AND no AC? That’s harsh. I guess you got me again.
Lebanon!
So Thailand was supposed to be my last big side trip outside of China, but when you have family and a free place to stay in Lebanon, how do you say no to that? You don’t. So abandoning all hope of saving any money, I bought a plane ticket to Beirut and spent 8 days in the “Paris of the Middle East.” And lucky for me, my lovely aunt Sharon played the perfect hostess and tour guide. I’m not even sure where to begin; the entire trip was absolutely, ridiculously, out of this world amazing. I feel a little guilty saying this, like I’m cheating on China, but daaaaaaaaaaamn. The Mediterranean, the people, the food, the clean air, the Roman ruins, you name it, I loved it. Maybe I should just list a few of my favorite things, or does that sound too much like the song in the Sound of Music?
Well let’s start with my first night; after a long and exhausting flight, my aunt greets me and immediately takes me to her apartment that has: A) a kitchen sink B) a mattress that doesn’t resemble a plank of wood C) food that isn’t Chinese. It’s like my own personal heaven. Touring around Beirut the next few days was such a breath of fresh air, literally and metaphorically. The sky is bright blue, we are walking along the Mediterranean, people aren’t staring, babies are wearing diapers, and Middle Eastern men are pretty damn easy on the eyes. Turns out I’m the one staring. Beirut is such a fantastic blend of Eastern and Western cultures, historical and modern, optimism and a reminder of the past. Bullet laden buildings still stand as a reminder of the civil war and detriment that Lebanon underwent so recently, but the new and remodeled down town area represents progress and survival. Mosques and churches line the streets and gorgeous archaic buildings are tucked amongst the budding sky rises. I enjoy meandering around the city taking pictures down hidden streets, eating in cafes in the downtown area, and shopping in stores that carry my size. This city has character, and I just know eight days will not be long enough. (My God, I sound like I’m about to burst into song; I should take the cheese factor down a notch or two).
Just when I thought it couldn’t get more awesome, my aunt arranges for me to take a trip to Syria for a few days with some other Americans my age. Other than being detained at the border for four hours and having to hitchhike with some guards, the trip kind of rocked my world. We take a long, windy drive (with me attempting not to hurl in the backseat) to Krak de Chevaliers, a crusader castle in the hillsides. AWESOME. The architecture, the views, the landscape, everything about it is intensely gorgeous and mesmerizing. Next up, a quick stop to visit the water wheels that are hundreds of years old for some amazing pictures. (Well mine are pretty amateur, but I’m sure somebody with talent would have taken amazing shots). My favorite part of Syria, besides the hummus, would definitely have to be the day at the Souks. As a huge fan of shopping, I thoroughly enjoy shopping when you can talk your way down from the original price. For this, I have to thank China for beefing up my bargaining skills. Everywhere in China you must bargain as if your life depends on it. I was planning on being thrifty and buying just a neat little souvenir or two, but who are we kidding. I had to feed my scarf addiction and do my part to help the Syrian economy. I’m pretty sure if Syria wasn’t thriving before, it was after I came through. Had I more room in my suitcase and more money in my wallet, I probably could have emptied some of those stalls of their entire inventory. FYI, my apartment will be homage to my travels; looks like Barrett’s stuff is going to have to find a new home in the storage unit.
My few days in Damascus and the Syrian countryside quickly come to an end, but that means I still have more time to spend in Beirut. The next few days each start out the same: drinking tea and reading a book on the balcony overlooking the Mediterranean. After that I wander around the city by foot- peering into shops, walking along the Corniche, and ogling Lebanese men. Did I mention they’re good looking? My trip also would not have been complete without the amazing day trips my aunt planned for me. One would be the day I spent in Baalbeck; a site dedicated to ruins that date back to the Phoenician era complete with some of the most impressive ruins and temples I’ve ever seen. Next highlight would be the afternoon I spent at the American University of Beirut. Did you know they have their own private beach on the campus? All of a sudden, my alma mater is looking quite crappy in comparison; all we had was a damn rodeo. And, last but not least, the highlight of not just my trip, but probably of my life is seeing the Jeita caves. This cave and grotto is a couple hours outside of Beirut and up for one of the seven natural wonders of the world. It has my vote. Walking in there is like entering an Indiana Jones movie; the most amazing natural formations I’ve ever seen in my entire life – stalagmites and stalactites the size of full grown men. It’s just bad ass; I don’t know how else to describe it. And the grotto has this piercing jade colored water that I could never ever forget if I tried. It’s truly one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in my 26 years of existence. It’s too bad that photography isn’t allowed and that I tend to abide by the rules. Bugger.
So, sadly, after 8 glorious days of soaking up Middle Eastern culture and smoking my first hookah with Aunt Sharon, it’s time to go home. And I wish with all my heart that I could say my journey home was as smooth and enjoyable as my whole vacation, but alas I cannot. It seems that on my last day in Beirut I ate something that didn’t quiiiiite agree with me. I was fine on the flight to Dubai, but somewhere during my 10 hour layover, this mystery food caught up with me. And it caught up with me in every bathroom in the Dubai airport, and unfortunately on a passerbyer on the path to the toilets. Sir, you know who you are, and again, I apologize. And wouldn’t you know it, when you have to puke and pee at the same time, they don’t always take turns like they should. So as I’m boarding the plane to Beijing, everyone around me is kind of holding their nose because I smell of almost every bodily function known to man. Yep, I guess this is how I choose to represent America – smelling like piss and vomit. It concerns me that this is the second blog in less than a year that has a large section dedicated to puke. Did I do something in a past life? Is this karma? Anyways, after arriving in Beijing exhausted and smelly, I want nothing more than just to get on the 2 hour train to Shijiazhuang and pass out in my own bed. But there are no trains. Wouldn’t you fucking know it? So guess who gets stuck on a 7 hour sleeper bus complete with old men urinating in the aisle? If you guessed me, contact me for your grand prize. I think this was China’s own special way of welcoming me back with gusto. Strangely enough, it does kind of feel good to be home. Who would have thought? So thanks for tuning in for my spectacular Lebanese adventure, and I bid you adieu until next time.
Well let’s start with my first night; after a long and exhausting flight, my aunt greets me and immediately takes me to her apartment that has: A) a kitchen sink B) a mattress that doesn’t resemble a plank of wood C) food that isn’t Chinese. It’s like my own personal heaven. Touring around Beirut the next few days was such a breath of fresh air, literally and metaphorically. The sky is bright blue, we are walking along the Mediterranean, people aren’t staring, babies are wearing diapers, and Middle Eastern men are pretty damn easy on the eyes. Turns out I’m the one staring. Beirut is such a fantastic blend of Eastern and Western cultures, historical and modern, optimism and a reminder of the past. Bullet laden buildings still stand as a reminder of the civil war and detriment that Lebanon underwent so recently, but the new and remodeled down town area represents progress and survival. Mosques and churches line the streets and gorgeous archaic buildings are tucked amongst the budding sky rises. I enjoy meandering around the city taking pictures down hidden streets, eating in cafes in the downtown area, and shopping in stores that carry my size. This city has character, and I just know eight days will not be long enough. (My God, I sound like I’m about to burst into song; I should take the cheese factor down a notch or two).
Just when I thought it couldn’t get more awesome, my aunt arranges for me to take a trip to Syria for a few days with some other Americans my age. Other than being detained at the border for four hours and having to hitchhike with some guards, the trip kind of rocked my world. We take a long, windy drive (with me attempting not to hurl in the backseat) to Krak de Chevaliers, a crusader castle in the hillsides. AWESOME. The architecture, the views, the landscape, everything about it is intensely gorgeous and mesmerizing. Next up, a quick stop to visit the water wheels that are hundreds of years old for some amazing pictures. (Well mine are pretty amateur, but I’m sure somebody with talent would have taken amazing shots). My favorite part of Syria, besides the hummus, would definitely have to be the day at the Souks. As a huge fan of shopping, I thoroughly enjoy shopping when you can talk your way down from the original price. For this, I have to thank China for beefing up my bargaining skills. Everywhere in China you must bargain as if your life depends on it. I was planning on being thrifty and buying just a neat little souvenir or two, but who are we kidding. I had to feed my scarf addiction and do my part to help the Syrian economy. I’m pretty sure if Syria wasn’t thriving before, it was after I came through. Had I more room in my suitcase and more money in my wallet, I probably could have emptied some of those stalls of their entire inventory. FYI, my apartment will be homage to my travels; looks like Barrett’s stuff is going to have to find a new home in the storage unit.
My few days in Damascus and the Syrian countryside quickly come to an end, but that means I still have more time to spend in Beirut. The next few days each start out the same: drinking tea and reading a book on the balcony overlooking the Mediterranean. After that I wander around the city by foot- peering into shops, walking along the Corniche, and ogling Lebanese men. Did I mention they’re good looking? My trip also would not have been complete without the amazing day trips my aunt planned for me. One would be the day I spent in Baalbeck; a site dedicated to ruins that date back to the Phoenician era complete with some of the most impressive ruins and temples I’ve ever seen. Next highlight would be the afternoon I spent at the American University of Beirut. Did you know they have their own private beach on the campus? All of a sudden, my alma mater is looking quite crappy in comparison; all we had was a damn rodeo. And, last but not least, the highlight of not just my trip, but probably of my life is seeing the Jeita caves. This cave and grotto is a couple hours outside of Beirut and up for one of the seven natural wonders of the world. It has my vote. Walking in there is like entering an Indiana Jones movie; the most amazing natural formations I’ve ever seen in my entire life – stalagmites and stalactites the size of full grown men. It’s just bad ass; I don’t know how else to describe it. And the grotto has this piercing jade colored water that I could never ever forget if I tried. It’s truly one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in my 26 years of existence. It’s too bad that photography isn’t allowed and that I tend to abide by the rules. Bugger.
So, sadly, after 8 glorious days of soaking up Middle Eastern culture and smoking my first hookah with Aunt Sharon, it’s time to go home. And I wish with all my heart that I could say my journey home was as smooth and enjoyable as my whole vacation, but alas I cannot. It seems that on my last day in Beirut I ate something that didn’t quiiiiite agree with me. I was fine on the flight to Dubai, but somewhere during my 10 hour layover, this mystery food caught up with me. And it caught up with me in every bathroom in the Dubai airport, and unfortunately on a passerbyer on the path to the toilets. Sir, you know who you are, and again, I apologize. And wouldn’t you know it, when you have to puke and pee at the same time, they don’t always take turns like they should. So as I’m boarding the plane to Beijing, everyone around me is kind of holding their nose because I smell of almost every bodily function known to man. Yep, I guess this is how I choose to represent America – smelling like piss and vomit. It concerns me that this is the second blog in less than a year that has a large section dedicated to puke. Did I do something in a past life? Is this karma? Anyways, after arriving in Beijing exhausted and smelly, I want nothing more than just to get on the 2 hour train to Shijiazhuang and pass out in my own bed. But there are no trains. Wouldn’t you fucking know it? So guess who gets stuck on a 7 hour sleeper bus complete with old men urinating in the aisle? If you guessed me, contact me for your grand prize. I think this was China’s own special way of welcoming me back with gusto. Strangely enough, it does kind of feel good to be home. Who would have thought? So thanks for tuning in for my spectacular Lebanese adventure, and I bid you adieu until next time.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Having a Big Ass in China
Curvy. Voluptuous. Full-figured. Pleasantly plump. Whatever you want to call it, I’m not thin by any stretch of the imagination. And while I may have been a little self conscious of it in the States, the average female in America is between size 12 and 14, so I never felt too out of place. Fast forward to living in China: the average female weight is probably between 25 and 30 pounds. That might be a slight exaggeration, but I swear it’s not that far off base! If anything is going to make you feel like a chunker, being surrounded by these bean poles will. In case you haven’t seen any Asian people lately, let me tell you, a very small minority of them have any meat on their bones. These people are tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny. So if being white doesn’t make me stand out enough, having sizable hips doesn’t help matters.
To make things worse, Chinese people are super obsessed with weight and super open about it to boot. I still remember my very first week of classes; students were assigned partners and had to introduce each other to the class. Some of the girls would introduce their friends with lead-ins such as, “This is my friend. She is fat because she is lazy and does not exercise.” The first shock to my system was that this was a perfectly acceptable way to speak about your friends – no offense taken. It’s not an insult if it’s a “fact.” The second shock was when I actually examined these alleged fat girls. These girls are probably 110 pounds soaking wet. If Chinese girls have anything resembling curves, padding, boobs, or an ass – they are fat. The sad thing is that the weight obsession starts ridiculously young. I tutor 10 year olds on the weekend, and one girl is so tiny she looks like she has rickets, and the other is a perfectly normal and healthy weight for a child. But of course, the tiny one calls the other one fat on a consistent basis. Body image here is warped. Some girls are afraid of exercising because they don’t want to get muscular like a boy. A student of mine told me her biggest fear in life is getting fat. Now you may be asking yourself right now, “Has she deluded herself into thinking there are no ridiculous standards of being thin and beautiful in the States?” Nope. I’m aware of our them; however, it’s small potatoes compared to the Chinese preoccupation with being slender.
So how has all of this affected me? Well, if I had a dollar for every time a Chinese person told me that I’m beautiful, but I’d be more beautiful if I lost weight, I’d be a fucking millionaire. Sometimes they try to offer helpful weight loss tips, like not eating, which has worked well for them. And shopping here? Not many options for me to choose from. (But if I’m being really honest, Chinese fashion doesn’t much appeal to me anyway). The thing is, I know that even if I cut my weight in half, they would probably still think there was more weight to lose. I’m aware they have an obsession with being stick-thin, and that curves and boobs are deemed unattractive. I also know that I would never want to be that thin and that I would look ridiculous as a bean pole. But that doesn’t mean that the comments and stares aren’t soul crushing sometimes. In a way I’ve kind of grown immune to it all, but I think one day I might snap and start force feeding lard down everyone’s throats. There are many things I will miss about China, but this I will not. I’m excited to get back to a country known for supersizing everything and where the word ‘fat’ is considered rude. I want to go back to a place where Beyonce’s body is considered rockin’ and not obese. I want to be able to go into stores that have my size and have more than two options to choose from. I want to be home where there is more than one version of beautiful! All I know is, come July 14th I will be in America feasting on lasagna, garlic bread, cupcakes, and whatever artery clogging food I can get my hands on, and damn it, I will embrace my steadily spreading ass!
To make things worse, Chinese people are super obsessed with weight and super open about it to boot. I still remember my very first week of classes; students were assigned partners and had to introduce each other to the class. Some of the girls would introduce their friends with lead-ins such as, “This is my friend. She is fat because she is lazy and does not exercise.” The first shock to my system was that this was a perfectly acceptable way to speak about your friends – no offense taken. It’s not an insult if it’s a “fact.” The second shock was when I actually examined these alleged fat girls. These girls are probably 110 pounds soaking wet. If Chinese girls have anything resembling curves, padding, boobs, or an ass – they are fat. The sad thing is that the weight obsession starts ridiculously young. I tutor 10 year olds on the weekend, and one girl is so tiny she looks like she has rickets, and the other is a perfectly normal and healthy weight for a child. But of course, the tiny one calls the other one fat on a consistent basis. Body image here is warped. Some girls are afraid of exercising because they don’t want to get muscular like a boy. A student of mine told me her biggest fear in life is getting fat. Now you may be asking yourself right now, “Has she deluded herself into thinking there are no ridiculous standards of being thin and beautiful in the States?” Nope. I’m aware of our them; however, it’s small potatoes compared to the Chinese preoccupation with being slender.
So how has all of this affected me? Well, if I had a dollar for every time a Chinese person told me that I’m beautiful, but I’d be more beautiful if I lost weight, I’d be a fucking millionaire. Sometimes they try to offer helpful weight loss tips, like not eating, which has worked well for them. And shopping here? Not many options for me to choose from. (But if I’m being really honest, Chinese fashion doesn’t much appeal to me anyway). The thing is, I know that even if I cut my weight in half, they would probably still think there was more weight to lose. I’m aware they have an obsession with being stick-thin, and that curves and boobs are deemed unattractive. I also know that I would never want to be that thin and that I would look ridiculous as a bean pole. But that doesn’t mean that the comments and stares aren’t soul crushing sometimes. In a way I’ve kind of grown immune to it all, but I think one day I might snap and start force feeding lard down everyone’s throats. There are many things I will miss about China, but this I will not. I’m excited to get back to a country known for supersizing everything and where the word ‘fat’ is considered rude. I want to go back to a place where Beyonce’s body is considered rockin’ and not obese. I want to be able to go into stores that have my size and have more than two options to choose from. I want to be home where there is more than one version of beautiful! All I know is, come July 14th I will be in America feasting on lasagna, garlic bread, cupcakes, and whatever artery clogging food I can get my hands on, and damn it, I will embrace my steadily spreading ass!
A day in the life
So I found a real café in Shijiazhuang, and not the crappy chicken/tea restaurant that I was using as a second rate substitution. This café has great big plush couches, exotic teas, a piano player, and a variety of over-priced foods to munch on. It’s everything a café should be. Unfortunately, the only reason I found this place was because I was taken there on a job interview. Or at least that’s what the guy told me it would be. Turns out, not a job interview, but a “date” with a pervy married guy who has a son named Obama. It did not matter how many times I told this guy I was involved/ not interested/would never be interested/would rather date an orangutan, he would just wink conspiratorially and tell me he understood my need to keep things secret. I just wanted to meet and learn how make an extra few bucks on the weekend, and instead the evening turned into the longest hour and a half of my life. I highly regret not bringing enough cash to pay for my own taxi ride home so I could bust the hell out of there, but live and learn is my motto. But on the upside I now have a new kick ass café where I can write my blogs in peace.
At the moment I’m taking a break from planning lessons to write about the current goings-on in China. Most of my students are preparing for a crazy important exam; if they don’t pass this test then their degree is about as useful as toilet paper. On second thought, toilet paper is pretty useful, but I think you get where I’m going with this. As a result, they are on edge, cranky, and very difficult to please right now. If we do test preparation, they find this stressful and overwhelming. If we play games to help practice their English then it’s not useful and it’s beneath them. I can’t win at the moment so I’ve given up trying to please everyone. I suppose that if I were in their shoes I’d be crapping myself too, so I’m going to cut them a little slack. I’m just hoping they go back to their happy-go-lucky selves soon enough. The week after the test I promised them a movie to celebrate – this is a big reward for them. Although, after having to watch Elf nine times in one week, I’ve learned my lesson-show different movies to different classes.
So other than dealing with grumpy students, life in China is going along swimmingly. The weather is improving and every once in a while, blue skies have been peaking through the thick haze of smog. Warm weather is approaching, although you’d never know it by the way Chinese people are dressed. Weather that I would deem worthy of capri pants and t-shirts is still long sleeves and jacket weather to them. Chinese people are deathly afraid of cold. I’m not making this up. Very few of them drink cold water – it’s always hot. They also are adamantly against fans/air conditioning/etc. In fact, they have glass suction type massages for the sole purpose of removing the “cold” that is trapped in your body. I received this treatment my very first week in China, and as a result my back looked liked a demented Twister game. I get the biggest kick out of watching students freak out when I wear a short sleeved shirt to class. They audibly gasp like I just came in naked, or like I denounced Chairman Mao. Ahhh, their Mao obsession – that’s a topic about which I could write an entire blog; but that’s a tangent for another day. Back to the topic at hand – the warm weather. My favorite part of this weather? Glad you asked. The outdoor barbeques are back. For under $5 a few of us can sit outside and eat lamb kabobs, fried bread, chicken wings, and grilled veggies. It’s positively one of my favorite things to do on a nice warm evening. Afterwards you can stroll down the street and get skewered fruit kabobs for about 10 cents. There’s something about cheap. fresh fruit on every corner that just makes life a little bit better.
Any other news in China? Well, I had a 4 day weekend last weekend so I only worked about 10 hours last week. Ha, I can feel the death glares. Last weekend was Tomb Sweeping Holiday so students had a Monday off of work and school to honor the dead. Here’s a trivial tidbit for you – Chinese people wear white to funerals. I tell you I’m learning something new every day! On my day off I had an invitation for a day trip with students that I only accepted because I didn’t know how to say no. As it turns out, I’m really glad I went. I was mildly skeptical at first, because Chinese people have a relatively different concept of what constitutes as fun. After all, these are the students who report back every week about spending their weekends playing computer games and chatting on the internet to their friends in the next dormitory. But wouldn’t you know it, these students busted out their wild sides to take me to see the oldest bridge in the history of the world.
We had to meet at 7:30 am which is still the middle of the night, but I guess it’s necessary to get up that early when you have to transfer buses 3 times. So a group of 7 students and I, along with my British friend Fiona, took a 2 hour journey to a nearby county. Students were hoping to see the pear trees blossoming, but we were about 3 weeks too early for that. Plan B: Check out a nearby temple and watch a procession of monks. I’ve seen a lot of temples, and it’s true they all start to meld together after a while, but this one happened to be spectacularly beautiful. When it comes down to it, a nice morning checking out a quiet temple beats sleeping in and surfing our ridiculously slow internet.
So after the temple we take a tuk-tuk ride to the infamous Zhao Zhou Bridge. Students, in their attempt to be helpful, wanted me to get in for half price so they lent me a student ID card. Did you know that I don’t look Chinese and that I cannot successfully pass off for someone named Wang Mengmeng? This bridge better rock my world, because I just paid full price. So, its big claim to fame is being the oldest arch bridge in the history of bridges. I guess it’s kind of cool, in its own first bridge kind of way. Although, it quickly loses its luster after about four and a half minutes. Never fear, there is shopping, and picnics and boat rides, oh my! Boat riding wasn’t my idea, but if 7 students want to paddle in some smelly and murky water, who am I to kill the dream? And bless ‘em, they rowed their hearts out. True, my students were equivalent to the Special Olympics rowing team, and I doubt they’ll be going out for crew any time soon, but they are just so damn cute! You can’t help but love them and their hearts of gold.
In other news, I am still on a quest to make the most of my last few months in China. I went hiking this weekend at a local mountain, and when I say hiking I mean stair climbing. There is nothing remotely natural about the paths up mountains in China. It’s all man-made steps, and after about half an hour my ass is completely on fire. Luckily it’s quite pretty and nice to get out of the city, but I miss Mount Rainier, and trails, and winding paths sans litter. And this is the first time I’ve ever seen hikers smoking as they puff and hack their way up the mountain. Hiking, like everything else in China, is back-asswards from what I’m used to. But the cherry blossoms are blooming, the Chinese hikers are friendly, and I am definitely sculpting my calves. The pretty awesome cherry on the mountain-shaped-sundae is the temple that’s in the process of being built at the top. I’ve never seen the temple process in action, and we got to meet the architect and designer of the religious statues. I’m glad I checked out this mountain before they turn it into an expensive tourist trap.
I think that about sums up the most interesting things going on in my life at the moment. I’m still studying my Chinese with the help of some Chinese friends and an illegally downloaded copy of Rosetta Stone. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but God Bless China’s pirating opportunities! Anyways, I can speak a handful of relevant Chinese phrases- nothing brag-worthy, but I’ve been able to make do and speak some very limited conversations. Other than that, I’m planning on hitting up the Botanical Gardens and a hanging temple next weekend. Hopefully within a few weeks I’ll have more updates for you on the awesomeness that is my life in China.
At the moment I’m taking a break from planning lessons to write about the current goings-on in China. Most of my students are preparing for a crazy important exam; if they don’t pass this test then their degree is about as useful as toilet paper. On second thought, toilet paper is pretty useful, but I think you get where I’m going with this. As a result, they are on edge, cranky, and very difficult to please right now. If we do test preparation, they find this stressful and overwhelming. If we play games to help practice their English then it’s not useful and it’s beneath them. I can’t win at the moment so I’ve given up trying to please everyone. I suppose that if I were in their shoes I’d be crapping myself too, so I’m going to cut them a little slack. I’m just hoping they go back to their happy-go-lucky selves soon enough. The week after the test I promised them a movie to celebrate – this is a big reward for them. Although, after having to watch Elf nine times in one week, I’ve learned my lesson-show different movies to different classes.
So other than dealing with grumpy students, life in China is going along swimmingly. The weather is improving and every once in a while, blue skies have been peaking through the thick haze of smog. Warm weather is approaching, although you’d never know it by the way Chinese people are dressed. Weather that I would deem worthy of capri pants and t-shirts is still long sleeves and jacket weather to them. Chinese people are deathly afraid of cold. I’m not making this up. Very few of them drink cold water – it’s always hot. They also are adamantly against fans/air conditioning/etc. In fact, they have glass suction type massages for the sole purpose of removing the “cold” that is trapped in your body. I received this treatment my very first week in China, and as a result my back looked liked a demented Twister game. I get the biggest kick out of watching students freak out when I wear a short sleeved shirt to class. They audibly gasp like I just came in naked, or like I denounced Chairman Mao. Ahhh, their Mao obsession – that’s a topic about which I could write an entire blog; but that’s a tangent for another day. Back to the topic at hand – the warm weather. My favorite part of this weather? Glad you asked. The outdoor barbeques are back. For under $5 a few of us can sit outside and eat lamb kabobs, fried bread, chicken wings, and grilled veggies. It’s positively one of my favorite things to do on a nice warm evening. Afterwards you can stroll down the street and get skewered fruit kabobs for about 10 cents. There’s something about cheap. fresh fruit on every corner that just makes life a little bit better.
Any other news in China? Well, I had a 4 day weekend last weekend so I only worked about 10 hours last week. Ha, I can feel the death glares. Last weekend was Tomb Sweeping Holiday so students had a Monday off of work and school to honor the dead. Here’s a trivial tidbit for you – Chinese people wear white to funerals. I tell you I’m learning something new every day! On my day off I had an invitation for a day trip with students that I only accepted because I didn’t know how to say no. As it turns out, I’m really glad I went. I was mildly skeptical at first, because Chinese people have a relatively different concept of what constitutes as fun. After all, these are the students who report back every week about spending their weekends playing computer games and chatting on the internet to their friends in the next dormitory. But wouldn’t you know it, these students busted out their wild sides to take me to see the oldest bridge in the history of the world.
We had to meet at 7:30 am which is still the middle of the night, but I guess it’s necessary to get up that early when you have to transfer buses 3 times. So a group of 7 students and I, along with my British friend Fiona, took a 2 hour journey to a nearby county. Students were hoping to see the pear trees blossoming, but we were about 3 weeks too early for that. Plan B: Check out a nearby temple and watch a procession of monks. I’ve seen a lot of temples, and it’s true they all start to meld together after a while, but this one happened to be spectacularly beautiful. When it comes down to it, a nice morning checking out a quiet temple beats sleeping in and surfing our ridiculously slow internet.
So after the temple we take a tuk-tuk ride to the infamous Zhao Zhou Bridge. Students, in their attempt to be helpful, wanted me to get in for half price so they lent me a student ID card. Did you know that I don’t look Chinese and that I cannot successfully pass off for someone named Wang Mengmeng? This bridge better rock my world, because I just paid full price. So, its big claim to fame is being the oldest arch bridge in the history of bridges. I guess it’s kind of cool, in its own first bridge kind of way. Although, it quickly loses its luster after about four and a half minutes. Never fear, there is shopping, and picnics and boat rides, oh my! Boat riding wasn’t my idea, but if 7 students want to paddle in some smelly and murky water, who am I to kill the dream? And bless ‘em, they rowed their hearts out. True, my students were equivalent to the Special Olympics rowing team, and I doubt they’ll be going out for crew any time soon, but they are just so damn cute! You can’t help but love them and their hearts of gold.
In other news, I am still on a quest to make the most of my last few months in China. I went hiking this weekend at a local mountain, and when I say hiking I mean stair climbing. There is nothing remotely natural about the paths up mountains in China. It’s all man-made steps, and after about half an hour my ass is completely on fire. Luckily it’s quite pretty and nice to get out of the city, but I miss Mount Rainier, and trails, and winding paths sans litter. And this is the first time I’ve ever seen hikers smoking as they puff and hack their way up the mountain. Hiking, like everything else in China, is back-asswards from what I’m used to. But the cherry blossoms are blooming, the Chinese hikers are friendly, and I am definitely sculpting my calves. The pretty awesome cherry on the mountain-shaped-sundae is the temple that’s in the process of being built at the top. I’ve never seen the temple process in action, and we got to meet the architect and designer of the religious statues. I’m glad I checked out this mountain before they turn it into an expensive tourist trap.
I think that about sums up the most interesting things going on in my life at the moment. I’m still studying my Chinese with the help of some Chinese friends and an illegally downloaded copy of Rosetta Stone. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but God Bless China’s pirating opportunities! Anyways, I can speak a handful of relevant Chinese phrases- nothing brag-worthy, but I’ve been able to make do and speak some very limited conversations. Other than that, I’m planning on hitting up the Botanical Gardens and a hanging temple next weekend. Hopefully within a few weeks I’ll have more updates for you on the awesomeness that is my life in China.
The Small, Slender, Chinese Wedding
On January 2nd of this year I was able to attend a pretty rad demonstration of Chinese culture – a Chinese wedding. I am aware it’s already May, so my blogging is just sliiiiiightly behind schedule. Oops. So I received the wedding invite via text message from the groom. The groom, Devin, is the assistant/translator for a CEO that I occasionally teach private English lessons. He’s a pretty cool guy, and even though I don’t know anyone, I figure this is probably the only time in my life I will get to attend a Chinese wedding. The first immediate difference between Chinese and American weddings – the bride and groom are waiting together at the entrance of the hotel to greet guests as they arrive. I’m escorted to a round table and sit next to the CEO and some of his business associates. At the table are some appetizers, Chinese white wine, and several packs of expensive cigarettes. A quick note on traditional Chinese white wine- it is Satan in a shot glass. This stuff is strong and tastes like jet fuel - a few shots of this and people have to peel me off of the floor. On a secondary note – if someone important offers you this drink, it’s a big slap in the face to them if you refuse. More on that later.
So the Chinese ceremony and reception are one meshed event so there’s no need to change locations. The party comes to us! So the lights have been dimmed and the ceremony is beginning. Now keep in mind I can only understand about every 18th word, so my comprehension is shall we say, somewhat minimal. But my powers of observation are still in check, so here’s what I gathered: The bride and groom walk down the aisle separately and the atmosphere is kind of like a rave. Bright and multicolored strobe lights are flashing and confetti is being pelted at them. When they finally make their way up the aisle, there is a lot of speech giving, bowing to the parents, and drinking from a tower of flowing champagne. It’s all very sweet, but I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the music selection. The only songs I can understand are “I can Show you the World” from Aladdin, and a power ballad from the eighties. I can’t remember the name of the song, but the lyrics go a little something like: “I’m your laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaady, and you are my man….whenever you reach for me…” and so on and so forth. Man oh man, leave it to the Chinese to use these songs in their wedding soundtrack.
So after a short 15 or 20 minute ceremony, the bride and groom walk back down the aisle and then the food and drinking commence. The platters of traditional Chinese food start coming, and coming, and they just keep coming. It’s traditional to have way more food than can possibly be eaten but I gave it my best shot. Free food? Wouldn’t you dig in too? So after everyone starts stuffing their faces, the Chinese start their tradition of toasting everyone and their dog walkers’ uncles. Just when you start to take a delicious bite, someone comes over and we must stand up and do the obligatory toasting and cheersing with the drinks of “liquid Satan.” I mean seriously, every time I took a mouthful of food, someone else was at our table eager to clink some glasses. So, not wanting to be rude, I stand up every time someone raises their glass and I down that devil of a drink. If I’ve failed to mention it before, baijiu has an alcohol content of about 4 bajillion percent. So my politeness has now gotten me tanked, but before I make too big of an ass out of myself, the wait staff comes around and clears plates, the lights come up, and the message is clear: Everyone get the hell out. The entire wedding from start to finish is an hour and a half. Luckily for me, the CEO offered to drive me home so I didn’t have to stumble out in the snow and find a taxi in my state. It was by far, the shortest, most direct, and to the point wedding I've ever been to. Maybe American weddings should take the hint...
So the Chinese ceremony and reception are one meshed event so there’s no need to change locations. The party comes to us! So the lights have been dimmed and the ceremony is beginning. Now keep in mind I can only understand about every 18th word, so my comprehension is shall we say, somewhat minimal. But my powers of observation are still in check, so here’s what I gathered: The bride and groom walk down the aisle separately and the atmosphere is kind of like a rave. Bright and multicolored strobe lights are flashing and confetti is being pelted at them. When they finally make their way up the aisle, there is a lot of speech giving, bowing to the parents, and drinking from a tower of flowing champagne. It’s all very sweet, but I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the music selection. The only songs I can understand are “I can Show you the World” from Aladdin, and a power ballad from the eighties. I can’t remember the name of the song, but the lyrics go a little something like: “I’m your laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaady, and you are my man….whenever you reach for me…” and so on and so forth. Man oh man, leave it to the Chinese to use these songs in their wedding soundtrack.
So after a short 15 or 20 minute ceremony, the bride and groom walk back down the aisle and then the food and drinking commence. The platters of traditional Chinese food start coming, and coming, and they just keep coming. It’s traditional to have way more food than can possibly be eaten but I gave it my best shot. Free food? Wouldn’t you dig in too? So after everyone starts stuffing their faces, the Chinese start their tradition of toasting everyone and their dog walkers’ uncles. Just when you start to take a delicious bite, someone comes over and we must stand up and do the obligatory toasting and cheersing with the drinks of “liquid Satan.” I mean seriously, every time I took a mouthful of food, someone else was at our table eager to clink some glasses. So, not wanting to be rude, I stand up every time someone raises their glass and I down that devil of a drink. If I’ve failed to mention it before, baijiu has an alcohol content of about 4 bajillion percent. So my politeness has now gotten me tanked, but before I make too big of an ass out of myself, the wait staff comes around and clears plates, the lights come up, and the message is clear: Everyone get the hell out. The entire wedding from start to finish is an hour and a half. Luckily for me, the CEO offered to drive me home so I didn’t have to stumble out in the snow and find a taxi in my state. It was by far, the shortest, most direct, and to the point wedding I've ever been to. Maybe American weddings should take the hint...
Friday, March 19, 2010
The Miss List
This blog is purely for my own whining, self pity, and nostalgia. I have hit the 6 month mark- officially over half way through my maiden voyage. As the finish line is still looming off in the distance, I am rapidly consumed with thoughts of what I am missing most in the good old US of A. I don’t miss all of these things all the time, but since I’m being truly self indulgent here, I’m putting it all out there. Hardly newsworthy I know, but here, in no particular order, is my “miss list” from home.
1. Family & friends
2. Barrett
3. Soft mattresses
4. Butterfingers
5. Children in diapers
6. Shower curtains
7. Soy chai lattes
8. Unrestricted internet access
9. Mexican food
10. Privacy
11. Bed Bath and Beyond (I don’t know why)
12. The English alphabet
13. Hot chocolate
14. Magazines (that I can read)
15. Fresh air
16. Anonymity
17. Driving
18. A kitchen sink
19. Movie theaters
20. Dairy
21. Nature
22. Bubble Baths
23. Powell’s Bookstore
24. Ovens
25. Traffic laws
26. Properly formed lines
27. Toilet paper in public restrooms
28. Consistency – well that’s not a guarantee at home, either
29. Holidays
30. My dog
1. Family & friends
2. Barrett
3. Soft mattresses
4. Butterfingers
5. Children in diapers
6. Shower curtains
7. Soy chai lattes
8. Unrestricted internet access
9. Mexican food
10. Privacy
11. Bed Bath and Beyond (I don’t know why)
12. The English alphabet
13. Hot chocolate
14. Magazines (that I can read)
15. Fresh air
16. Anonymity
17. Driving
18. A kitchen sink
19. Movie theaters
20. Dairy
21. Nature
22. Bubble Baths
23. Powell’s Bookstore
24. Ovens
25. Traffic laws
26. Properly formed lines
27. Toilet paper in public restrooms
28. Consistency – well that’s not a guarantee at home, either
29. Holidays
30. My dog
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