How did this blog get in here?

So, if you’ve been following this blog you’re most likely aware that it consists of my tales, triumphs, and woes of living in China. Well, I figure it’s about time to shake things up a bit and throw a bit of variety your way. So for your viewing pleasure, I am dedicating this blog to the 10 days I spent in Thailand. Still within the Asian realm, I’m assuming Thailand still constitutes as relevant traveling info. So fasten your seat belts ladies and gentlemen – we’re headed to Bangkok.

After saying another goodbye to Barrett and once again weeping and making a scene at the airport, I set off to Bangkok to meet Kerianne. A good friend since college, K Dawg and I are still puzzled as to why we’re friends. This girl and I are like oil and water, day and night, Ann Coulter and a decent human being. But somehow, despite our opposite stances on just about EVERYTHING, we’ve managed to solidify these differences into a pretty stellar friendship. Now we’re about to push the boundaries and become traveling buddies. And are we still friends after spending one month together traipsing around Asia? Stay tuned.

The original plan is to meet at a hostel in Bangkok and spend 10 days there rockin’ the thrifty traveler lifestyle. Kerianne beats me there, and after having spent a shitty week in Russia, she is not psyched to stay at our sub-par hostel. I didn’t think the hostel was too bad, but this again highlights our one of many vast differences. She could use a few days at the beach, and who am I to say no to that? So thanks to her generous family, we are heading out first thing in the morning (and by that I mean 11:30 am) to the Hard Rock Hotel in Pattaya.

As it turns out, Pattaya is a bit crowded and touristy for my taste, but it is perfect for a few days of sun, sand, and beating the “Barrett’s-gone-and-I-won’t-see-him-for-another-5-months” blues. And soak up the sun, we did. Somehow to my disappointment but not surprise, I’m still a ghastly shade of white. We also partake in some bargain price parasailing (I don’t recommend it), and I finally lose my jet skiing virginity. This choppy half an hour of stopping/starting/falling off around the ocean is perhaps my favorite 30 minutes of the entire trip. So if anyone needs an idea for my welcome back present, a jet ski will earn you major props. I won’t even take credit for the idea.

On our last morning in Pattaya, we treat ourselves to a traditional Thai massage. A bargain price of $10 for one hour, but I’m not sure who the massage is most therapeutic for: me or the masseuse. If you have anger issues and need to take them out on someone while getting paid for it, I highly recommend moving to Thailand and taking up the art of massage. I don’t know what I did to this lady in a previous life, but she sure as hell felt like taking it out on me now. I don’t think my muscles were meant to move like that. Who knew a 90 pound Thai woman had so much pent up rage! Strangely enough, after a 60 minute beating, I walk away feeling like a brand new woman, and as I write this I am having a masochistic craving for a massage right now. Side note: 4 days later I want a reflexology foot massage and am turned away because it is that time of the month. Hrrrmmmpph. This feels like Biblical times and I am being forced to leave the village. Maybe they are afraid I will attract bears. Who knows, but if you have answers as to why, please enlighten me.

Feeling relaxed and rejuvenated from our 3 days in Pattaya, we are ready to hit Bangkok for some hard core sight seeing. Thank God the one thing Kerianne and I do have in common is our shared love of sleeping in; an early start for us means leaving the hotel room before 12:30 pm. In one week, we manage to cram in a ton of sight seeing. We see the Grand Palace, the Wat Arun (a temple with VERTICAL stairs), the zoo, the floating market, a silk entrepreneur’s mansion, shrines, and Budhhas, Buddhas, and more Buddhas; you name it, we saw it. And did you know that Bangkok is kind of like the Venice of Asia? I didn’t. We took a boat tour of the canals and saw a completely different side of the city. Our favorite sight seeing highlights? Well, since day one, Kerianne had her sights set on riding an elephant in Thailand. A word to the wise, do not mess with this girl if she has her eye on the prize. Nothing will deter her. So after the Floating Market we make our way to the Rose Garden for the elephant show to check out some elephants shakin’ what their mamas gave them. And alas, Kerianne was finally able to ride her elephant. True it was only for about 40 seconds and in one small circle, but she was able to ride it nonetheless.

Another joint favorite of ours would undoubtedly be the Lady Boy show. (Side note: I don’t think its actual name is the Lady Boy show, but that’s what I coined it.) Thailand is pretty well known for its transvestites, so they bank on it by putting on a kick ass cabaret show comprised of all men. Women, if you want to feel badly about yourself, go to a Lady Boy show. Personally, nothing makes me feel crappier than walking away and wishing I could look as good in women’s underwear as these men did. But as they say, if you’ve got it, flaunt it. And try as I might, I was unable to detect Adam’s apples or any, um, hint of manliness south of the border. I would have sworn these were actually women and this whole show was just a farce, but then I heard the voices and that theory went out the window. The best part? The photo ops afterwards. I had my picture taken with as many Lady Boys as would let me. I’m pretty sure, and Kerianne confirms, that I made an ass out of myself gushing about their beauty, turning bright red, and then pushing and shoving to get my picture with the next Lady Boy down the line. So, if you don’t feel like getting me a jet ski, a Lady Boy for my own personal entertainment will also suffice. I’m just throwing ideas out there.

So was the entire trip all peaches and cream? Not exactly. There were most definitely times when the respective traveling styles of Kerianne and I clashed big time. I aim to abandon the comforts of home when traveling whereas Kerianne prefers to embrace them. We had to bust out our compromising skills and put them to good use. So I kept my eye rolling and moaning to a minimum as we perused the inside of many malls and McDonalds, and she did the same while we ate in hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurants and I took a gazillion pictures of tropical flowers. As a lover of PB & J, pizza, and classic American cuisine, Thai food was not exactly up Kerianne’s alley. But bless her peanut butter loving heart; she gave Thai food a shot, even if it was mostly chicken fried rice. She even claimed to enjoy the dessert of mango, and coconut sticky rice. P.S. that dessert was so amazing I had to change my pants afterwards. Suffice it to say, neither of us got to do things exactly the way we wanted the whole time, but somehow we managed to create a pretty good mix of the two us without any eye gouging or hair pulling. A few close calls, but somehow, to our disbelief, we’re still friends.

My final review of Bangkok would state that I found it to be a fascinating city, but one I’m not positive I would return to. The sights and history are spectacular; the intricacy and elaborateness of the temples is almost unparalleled. The spirituality and devotion expressed on street side shrines is both inspiring and mesmerizing. The boat ride through the canals offered a unique view of Bangkok I’d never expected to see. On the downside, the traffic in Bangkok is enough to make the most patient person in the world want to slit their own wrists. Doesn’t matter if it’s 11 am or 11 pm – all traffic all the time. The city is also insanely busy, geared toward tourism, and I think I heard more English than Thai being spoken. While I emphatically recommend visiting Bangkok, I think my next trip to Thailand will be aimed at places a little more remote and off the beaten path. That being said, I am now a big fan. Go see it for yourself and let me know what you think.

'Tis the Seasons!

Is it Chinese New Year already? It sounds so cliché to ask where this year has gone, but how is it possible this much time has already elapsed? In one short week I will be celebrating the Year of the Tiger in the streets of Beijing amongst millions of people. This only reminds me I have been neglecting my blogging duties and have not written anything about how I spent my own holiday season. The shame has eaten me up inside, so I now feel it my duty to fill you in on the highlights from Halloween to New Years with a top-ten-style recap.

1. Student Halloween party – slap on some wings, antennas, and cheap pink eye shadow, and step back folks, we have a butterfly! The students went ape shit for it and snapped photos non-stop until my cheeks ached from smiling. I was roped into singing "Ghost Busters", was abandoned by the other foreign teachers, forgot the words, and made a complete ass of myself. I think some of my lyrics may have included “If you’re in China, and you’re feelin’ finah, who you gonna call?”

2. Halloween night – Mortified from earlier performance; must console myself by drinking too much vodka.

3. Thanksgiving Shopping – What to do for Thanksgiving when there is no oven in sight? Say to hell with tradition, that's what! Another teacher and I went shopping and ended up coming home with way more than necessary – became mildly excited at the foreign food store and bought 4 different types of cheese. We walked out of the store with a crap load of groceries. Apparently we needed more people – or sturdier bags. Broke the eggs and had to go back a second time.

4. Thanksgiving Dinner – The menu: chicken stew, tacos, burnt mashed potatoes (that was my fault), potato salad, fruit salad, cheesy broccoli, our own concoction of stuffing, store bought cake, and beer. Another teacher and I slaved away all day over three hot plates and a microwave. Burnt potatoes aside, I must say it turned out quite nicely. All the teachers gathered together on Dan’s purple couch to gormandize on our untraditional feast and give thanks for 18 hour work weeks!

5. The Christmas Apples – Christmas isn’t really a big thing in China, with the exception of a few strands of tinsel and some unfortunate looking Santa heads floating about. The one thing they for sure do on Christmas is fruit. So apples are the fruit of safety in China, and therefore it is customary to give them as Christmas gifts to friends and teachers. But not just ordinary apples – apples wrapped in decorative paper! So thanks to my lovely students, I now have more apples than I know what do with! If only there was an oven here to make apple pie. God I miss baked goods.

6. Holiday Parties – Or should I say “parties.” Is it a party if it’s mandatory and all you can think about is stabbing your own eyes out with the dull end of a chopstick? There were three parties this season – one for just the foreigners at our college, one for all the teachers at our college, and one for all the foreigners in Shijiazhuang. The first was sweet – just the foreign teachers, some awesome students, and the song “We Wish you a Merry Christmas” on repeat. The large parties, however, were full of lots of kiss-ass speeches and loads of crap performances (I can say this because my friends and I were one of them). Folks, boredom does not even begin to cover it. I think time might have actually been going backwards. To be fair, however, I do have to admit the food was pretty good, and it was actually kind of fun to rock out to “I’m a Believer” on stage.

7. Christmas Eve – This is the one time I’ve missed American schools – I had to work on Christmas Eve. Although I was showing the movie Elf with Chinese subtitles so it didn’t really feel like working. P.S. After 9 times of watching Will Ferrell fill the residents of New York City with Christmas spirit, I really thought I might kill myself. After work, I went to a Christmas tree decorating competition held by the students, which turned out to be really cute. It was the first time that it really felt like Christmas to me since I’d been in China. I made spaghetti for a few friends, and then we proceeded to go to a bar since we had nothing better to do. At home I would have been watching The Grinch and baking cookies, but alas there was no Grinch and no oven in sight. Wow, my Grandma might have had a point when she told me I reference drinking too often...

8. Christmas Day – Something feels strange; there are no younger brothers knocking at the door begging me to get up. As much as I usually begrudge being woken up, I really really missed them. It was quite peculiar waking up to an empty apartment, and a smidge on the lonely side. Luckily, the apartment was soon buzzing – Richard came down and we made breakfast, and then people began traipsing in and exchanging Secret Santa gifts. I had no Secret Santa gift to open because my room mate drew my name and couldn’t wait until Christmas to give me my gift: it was a nice wallet because I lost mine. Please don’t tell her I’ve lost this one too. Lucky for me, my extremely generous family spent way too much money on postage and had presents shipped to me by Christmas. Thank you everyone, you made my day! I just want to add that I really and truly missed all of you. The rest of Christmas day was complete with lounging, eating pizza, and napping. It was unconventional to say the least, but all in all not too bad.

9. New Year’s Eve – Resolutions have been made and plans are in place. I’ve always been unable to say no, so I have reluctantly accepted an invitation to spend an invitation with Nadya and her friends. She and her friends are all great people, but as a non-Russian speaker, I am in a very small minority. I spend the majority of the evening having no idea what was being said, watching horrible Russian television, and trying to stay awake until midnight. I must be getting old, because I would have much rather spent my New Year’s Eve curled up in bed watching old episodes of 30 Rock until I passed out.

10. New Year’s Day – Aha! I have managed to maintain my glorious tradition of sleeping in and lounging around all day in my sweatpants. It’s nice to know that some things won’t change no matter what country you may be in. I have a personal tradition on January 1st to reflect on the past year. It seems so strange to me that I am now in China; one year ago the idea of picking up and moving across the world had not yet entered my mind. It’s funny how life works out sometimes. Happy New Year everyone; make it a good one.

Bo'ao...Saved the Best for Last!

So, on our list of vacation accomplishments, we have officially checked off the following: Tiananmen Square, Great Wall, cheap hostel with crappy bed, expensive hotel complete with 2 days of pool side lounging, and skin-hungry fish. What’s next on the list? A 5 day stay at a quaint little town called Bo’ao, so named for a creature named Ao, who allegedly possess the head of a dragon, body of a turtle, and tail of a lion. All I can say is ouch on behalf of his mother. A few years back this town had yet to make it on a map, let alone a tourist guidebook, but that was before it had hosted the Asian Forum for something something. My attention to details is impressive, I know. Since then, people have been flocking to this humble and charming fishing village, eager for some peace, quiet, and authenticity. I read about Bo’ao in Lonely Planet, and I am easily influenced, so I booked it immediately.

Compromising between a cheap hostel and an expensive touristy hotel, Barrett and I opt to stay at a Bed and Breakfast run by an American woman and her Chinese husband. The B &B is fantastic. The breakfasts superb. The owners are lovely. (Although, is it normal to feed your pet bird chewed up food from your own mouth?) No other foreigners, no photo ops, no giant tourist traps, and we are just minutes from the beach. But this beach, unlike the ones in Sanya, is dotted with ancient temples, wild goats, and families’ dogs, rather than women trying to sell knock-off pearls. Holy hell, this is the vacation spot I’ve been looking for: a real blend of culture, relaxation, and Western breakfasts. God Bless Bo’ao.

I know I’m gushing, but I have fallen in love with this town. How could life get any better? Waking up to a hot, fresh meal, walking along the isolated beach, talking to locals, hiking through minority villages, lounging around reading a book, eating cheap barbecued seafood, chewing on sugar cane… this is the life. Oh, and get this! Bo’ao is home to a beautiful Buddhist temple that is currently off limits to tourists. Turns out, the owner of the B & B has the hook up and is in tight with one of the monks. We end up having a private tea ceremony with the monk and then have a private viewing of the temple while the monks are busy praying and chanting in the background. And this is after a private boat ride up and down the river and visiting a local village only accessible by water. I’m telling you, this place is amazing!

So I realize that there are no humorous or stupid incidents to report, and the sole purpose of this blog is purely to prattle on and on about my new favorite place in China. I can’t help it! This is by far my favorite few days of the trip and I need to brag about it! I assure you that inevitably I will do something ridiculous or embarrassing and will fill you in on all the humiliating/entertaining details, but for now, my infatuation will have to suffice.

Winter Vacation Part One!

Finals are over, grades have been posted, visas obtained. I now have 6 days of blissful nothingness before my winter extravaganza begins. Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic for the 5 week vacation I’m about to embark on. But I, much like everyone, am reveling in some much needed down time. Many friends of mine have traveled to Harbin – a city so cold that tourists’ nipples have been rumored to freeze and fall right off. I myself opted to stay in Shijiazhuang and prep for my upcoming vacation. As a compulsive list maker, I have already made detailed and categorized lists of where I will be staying, and everything I could possibly need. Now all I have to do is pack, and have an endless Lost marathon until Barrett arrives on the 16th. I’m aware that the TV show Lost has been a pop culture staple for the past 6 years, but I’m a little behind the times and am just now starting to watch Season 3. ADDICTING. I blame China and its ridiculously cheap pirated DVDs.
Now the morning of the 16th has arrived, and it’s a day I’ve been waiting for since I first got here. Barrett is coming to China and let me tell you, I have missed this guy. I have been counting down to this day for a few months now, and it’s actually here. Intending to be awesome, I plan it so my train will arrive a few hours before his plane gets in and I can greet him at the gate and it will be running towards each other in slow motion awesomeness. In reality, I couldn’t find the subway and he ends up waiting at the Airport Starbucks for me for an hour. The best laid plans of mice and men…
So, we check into our hotel and order over priced room service and yada yada, fast forward to the next morning. On the agenda today: Tiananmen Square, Forbidden City, and Beihai Park. So, after a full day of sight-seeing, I get the impression that Barrett might be just slightly overwhelmed by the throngs of Chinese people staring, soliciting their tacky crap, and asking us to pose for photo ops. For a laid back guy who enjoys all that is mellow, this was all a bit intrusive. He was managing ok until on the way to dinner we stepped off the subway and into a fresh pile of someone’s puke. I did a little ice skating maneuver through the vomit mound and ended up with chunky splatter all the way up to my knees. I mean, really! What a way to start a nice evening at the Outback. And you don’t have to worry, I will not turn this blog into an homage to my favorite western restaurant, but believe me, I could.
So after eating my deliciously seared prime rib with an all inclusive baked potato and heavenly Caesar salad topped with freshly made croutons, we decide to call it an early night. Why, you ask? Because at 6:20 am we are departing for the Great Wall! Thinking a challenge would be fun, we choose the Simatai section of the Wall. Simatai is the farthest from Beijing, the least touristy, and also the least restored and also the most vigorous section. Looking back, I probably should have taken into account that Barrett and I are both semi-lazy and out of shape, but hind sight is 20/20. The Great Wall is by far one of the most spectacular things I’ve ever seen. Pictures do not do it justice, and the brochures were right: there were no other tourists. The views are picturesque, and being there really makes you stop and appreciate the 200 years it took to build this massive fortress. That being said, the Wall is a wee pain in the ass. It is steep, stairs alternate between ridiculously tiny to insanely large within a span of 4 seconds, and I almost lost my footing numerous times. My classes at the university may be held on the 6th floor of the building, but those daily 5 flight hikes did not prepare me for the workout of the Great Wall. Note to future self: get off ass and do some exercise or you will regret it in the midst of sight-seeing activities.
So with sore and quivering calves we return to our hotel to prep for the 2nd leg of our journey. We are headed to Hainan Island; the Hawaii of Asia. The northern section of the island is a more cultural and realistic portrayal of China, and the southern section being the resort/tropical paradise portion. Being a bit of a traveling snob, I want to go to the northern section to soak up the true experience of China and not just lounge on the beach with a daiquiri in hand like some spoiled tourist. I lasted 3 days before I thought, “To hell with this. I want my daiquiri.” Haikou was an alright city, but the weather was gloomy, the streets were dirty, and the mattress at the hostel rivaled with concrete for comfort. People kept raving about the city of Sanya, so we booked a room at the only available hotel, The Holiday Inn, and made the journey south.
I hate to admit it, but give me tropical drinks by the pool side any day. Life in Sanya is mostly devoid of authentic Chinese culture, but a few days by the beach and tropical poolside is good for the soul. The highlights of Sanya include gorgeous views, swimming in the ocean, drinking cocktails on the beach with a background of fireworks, and a bed that is not rock solid. So what could possibly be the downside to this tropical paradise? For starters, the prices here are exorbitant. The first shock to my system is a $50 laundry bill. I thought they would stick the clothes in the washer and hang them out to dry….but nope, they press them and wrap each article of clothing in sealed plastic. Is it just me, or is that not only bad for the environment but also ridiculously inconvenient? Everything, ranging from taxi rides to meals, is jacked up about 4 times the price it would normally be on the mainland. I guess all good things come at a price, and if tourists are willing to pay it, why not? I also thought it would be a kick in the pants to try new things, so I pay to hang out in a hot spring where “fish doctors” nibble at my dead skin for half an hour until I emerge silky and smooth. I’m not sure what was going on in my head when I deemed this a good idea. I pay for half an hour, and I make it about 6 minutes; in those 6 minutes I get out at least 3 or 4 times. Never ever ever again. In another effort to be cool and embrace the island life, I order a coconut to drink from, and much to my dismay it tastes like bath water. I suppose not all aspects of tropical paradise are meant to be awesome.
The last item on the agenda is to go to Sanya’s famous location, “The End of the Earth.” This beach was once thought to be the most remote corner of the planet, and drew the attention of poets, writers, and admirers alike. As the story goes, it was on this beach that two forbidden lovers of the Romeo and Juliet fashion were forced to jump in the sea and were struck by lightning thus turning them into stone. The lovers/rocks are now intertwined in the ocean for all eternity, destined to be a tourist hot spot for all time. Being here I can appreciate the beauty that once drew the scholars and artists, but it’s a bit hard to appreciate it with the thousands of Chinese tourists mulling about. And they have to pose in front of EVERYTHING. Any enjoyment that could have been experienced from this magnificent scene is thwarted by Chinese families stopping every 8 seconds for a photo op with their peace signs a blazin'. Of course with the peace signs. Always with the peace signs. I am suddenly remembering why I avoid places like this, and now I am craving the quiet, cheap food, and a little bit of authenticity. Cue the last leg of the trip with Barrett: the small fishing village of Bo’ao, so awesome that I think it merits its own blog.

Bringin' home the bacon

It is 3:25 in the morning and for some reason I can’t sleep, so I am waiting for my microwave popcorn to finish popping and making use of the time by writing a new blog. On a side note, thank you Sarah for the popcorn among other things in my care package! And while I am making public proclamations of thanks, this one goes out to Dad, Robin, Owen, Mom, Steve, and Barrett for my care packages as well. You guys are the best! And Dad, as you constantly remind me, I have neglected you in previous blogs, so I owe you a long overdue shout out. Here goes: you are an amazing dad and I don’t know what I would do without you; thanks for always supporting me and for still making me laugh with your stupid jokes I’ve been hearing since I was about 2 feet tall. (I’m aware I set myself up for short jokes). I really am ridiculously blessed to have such a plethora of quirky and amazing family and friends. But before this turns into a Hallmark greeting card, let’s return back to the matter at hand. It is now 3:32 am, and I am no closer to ending this bout of insomnia. The only thing keeping me sane at the moment is knowing that I do not have an early morning wake up call, because my first class starts at 2:00 pm. Yep, my day tomorrow is from 2-5:30, and a half hour break in there somewhere. It’s a hard knock life. You might hate me right now, but to add salt to the wound, I love my job. I enjoy going to classes (most days) and because I teach “Oral English,” I have absolutely no papers to grade. I figure it’s about time for a full blog dedicated to the reason I came to China in the first place: teaching.
To be completely frank, teaching here is a far better gig than I had in America. I only work about 16 hours a week, my prep work is minimal, and students actually respect me here – most of them that is. I’m not saying that students in America weren’t respectful – well, actually I am. There were a large handful of students who made it full time job to make my life more difficult. It’s not to say that all Chinese students are enraptured with my every word, but if they don’t care, most of them are at least polite about it. Students here will offer to help me erase the blackboard and bring me small presents and tell me how much they appreciate my class. It’s kind of a nice change of pace from the constant chorus of “this sucks” and “why do we have to do this?”
Since the semester is coming to a close (this only reminds me that I have been slacking on my blogging duties), I am racking my brain trying to think of the most significant information I can tell you about Chinese university students and my teaching experience. I’ll start with a random assortment of trivia First, students here all have English names, although I think some of these students opened an English dictionary one day, randomly pointed to a word and said, “this is my new English name!” My roster includes such students as Lemony, Bleach, Jam, Comb, NoNo, SoSo, and my personal favourite, Blue Baby. I also get a kick out of some of the students with names that would be too old for my grandparents: Mavis, Ethel, Arthur, and Herman. I almost pissed my pants the first time I took attendance. Let’s see…what else? You should know that university life in China is the polar opposite of American college life. From my own personal experience, I recall that a midterm paper usually took a back seat to beer, a good smoke out, and a keg stand. I used to abide by the philosophy “work hard, play harder,” and some of my best memories in college I was so schnockered that I don’t really remember at all. In China, on the other hand, students have the mantra “work hard, work harder” drilled into their brains at an early age. Although drinking is legal from the time you’re old enough to ask for a beer, students here rarely drink or go to bars and it is considered semi-scandalous. Sad to say, but on weekends it’s the teachers and not the students who are dragging their drunken asses through the gates at half past three in the morning. I don’t know whether the Chinese are the ones missing out, or maybe the Westerners didn’t give our education the full attention it deserved. I’m thinking the first one.
So, I’ve covered their “English” names, their lack of partying, and I think you should also know about the typical demeanor of Chinese university students. Most of them are quite shy, and it is a huge deal in China to “lose face.” A lot of them were shitting themselves the first time I met them because they had to speak English with a foreigner. Well, to be fair, my awesomeness can be intimidating. So the vast majority of them are really conservative, shy, and afraid to make asses of themselves. They also still kind of have the mentality and maturity of Western high school students. They get giggly if someone brings up boyfriends or girlfriends, and they laugh at my B level jokes. I don’t even have to bring my A game to these guys; they laugh at anything. They’re also so ridiculously nice it’s insane! My ego’s gotten so inflated here – they bring small presents, offer to erase the black board for me, and burst into rounds of applause if I attempt to speak Chinese. (Note the heavy emphasis on attempt). It’s going to be a ruuuuuuuude wake up call when I go home, and I’m not funny, and no one praises me for using eating utensils correctly. My chopsticks skills are coming along quite nicely, in case you were wondering.
Before I get too mushy, I should tell you it’s not all a bed of roses – there are down sides to teaching Chinese students. They can be so sensitive that it’s sometimes like walking on a land mine. For Mid-Autumn Festival they eat these things called Moon Cakes, and I think they taste like pieces of crap wrapped in more crap. But, some students took it personally when I said I didn’t care for moon cake. Now when they give me barf-flavored presents, I stick them in my purse until I can chuck them. My friend Richard did a lesson British culture (I’m not sure why anyone would want to learn, but whatever) and he did a comparison between Chinese Yuan and the British Pounds. He shoved his Chinese money back in his pocket after the lesson was over, and his students wrote him a letter suggesting that he treat Chinese money with more respect. What was he supposed to do? Frame it? Oy vey!
I also was unaware of the fact that when you sign on to be a teacher in China, you’re signing up for the “performing monkey” gig as well. Students expect you to do a little song and dance number for them, and the school expects you to whip out a performance at any given function. I frequently sing in the shower, but I have rarely received requests for my singing. It’s a little below par, to put it nicely. But students live for this kind of stuff, so I have taught them everything from Journey to Britney Spears. My singing of English songs is a reward for students if they have worked hard. In what ass-backwards universe is my singing a reward and not a punishment? I’m telling you, China is in some parallel dimension. I am in a land where my singing is appreciated and Pizza Hut is a fine dining experience. Who knew?
Land mines and performing-monkey-bit aside, I love teaching here! It’s fun to teach students that the word ‘usually’ is not pronounced ‘urally.’ I love to watch them try out new slang and tell their friends to “peace out.” I really enjoy making friends with students here; they know the best places to eat, and they teach me Chinese for free. These are good kids and I will miss them when I go. Although considering I’m only about 5 years older than them, maybe ‘kids’ is not the most appropriate word. I start giving final exams in a week --- how did this semester pass so quickly? God bless ‘em;I don’t want to go back!

Random Chinese update

So it’s hard to wrap my head around this, but I’ve been in Shijiazhuang for over two months now and I’m sort of/kind of getting the hang of things. It seems semi-bizarre to me to have “life as usual” in China, but I am done with the “Oh my God, what am I doing here” portion of the program. In a way, my daily life is a little like reliving the college experience. I’m in an apartment building that all the foreign teachers live in, so everyone is a few short flights of stairs away, just like the dorms. I spend time outside of class living in sweat pants eating instant food and drinking cheap bear; again, just like college. Half my classes don’t start until the afternoon and so I roll out of bed around eleven, surf the internet, putz around doing nothing of meaning until it’s time to leave for classes. The only difference is that now after a night of drinking I can’t wander into class the next day in my sweats and wearing last night’s make up. Now roles have reversed; I’m the teacher not the student and I have to bear some semblance of responsibility and maturity. I’m not quite sure if I’ve pulled it off with success yet; but time will tell.
Most days have a series of similar components: I teach classes, I wash my dishes while taking a shower for lack of a kitchen sink, I e mail someone from home, I try a new Chinese restaurant, or eat out at one of my regular favorites. Since the outdoor barbeque is now closed for the season, I’ve been getting my fix of potatoes sautéed in garlic and vinegar, as well as cabbage, cauliflower, and sweet and sour pork. I also have a “burger guy” I go to on a regular basis for 2 kuai burgers, which is equivalent to about 34 cents; cheap and good! Plus, the guy knows by now I don’t like it spicy and I am adamantly against onions contaminating my duck burger. Yeah, it’s not quite like McDonald's. Here in China, my burger options consist of duck, pork, or donkey. In case you were wondering, I have tried the donkey burger, and it wasn’t quite my cup of tea. But you never know, maybe I just ate a donkey that was having an off day. Every once in a while, I’ll have an out of the ordinary food related experience that catches me off guard. For example, last week a student asked if I wanted to have lunch with her and eat duck. I like duck, so I was all for it. As she and I are walking together after class, I ask her what restaurant we are going to, and she replies, “No restaurant. I have it with me.” She then proceeds to pull a full duck in plastic wrapping out of her purse. You just don’t see that every day. FYI, the purse duck was freaking fantastic. I need to start carrying birds in my handbag; maybe it’s some sort of flavoring technique that we haven’t picked up on yet in The States.
Speaking of food, I’ve been able to now order some of my favourite dishes on my own without needing a translator, and my language skills are progressing a bit in other areas as well. And by a bit, I do mean like a teensy eensie baby bit. If I haven’t stressed this before, Chinese is hard! I’ve been practicing with taxi drivers and random people I meet, or students that I go out to lunch with because they are always eager to teach me new phrases. Sadly, the vast bulk of the language still eludes me. Too many times I’ve fallen into the trap of just nodding and smiling and the people look at me like I’m a daft idiot when they have clearly asked me a question that does not require a yes or no answer. I’m guessing, and hoping, that it gets easier and that more and more comprehension will start to seep into my brain, and I’m hoping that’s not just me being naïve and foolishly optimistic.
As I’m adapting, I’m becoming more adept at picking up on the subtle nuances of Chinese culture that I hadn’t anticipated before arriving. First, I’ve mentioned the four tones before which dictate the pronunciation of a word and its meaning, but as it turns out there is a fifth tone I didn’t know about. If you listen carefully, you can hear this elusive and difficult-to- master fifth tone multiple times a day, most often on the streets; the tone starts deep in the throat and is completed when a loogie is officially hocked up and released onto the pavement. The Chinese have perfected the art of the fifth tone, but I think they’re still trying to improve their crafts, because I hear them practicing all day long. They’re diligent, I tell you.
Another aspect of Chinese culture which I hadn’t anticipated was the inner workings of Chinese logic. Or to be frank, lack thereof. Well there might be some logic, but it makes no logical sense, so I don’t know if it can technically be defined as logic. You may be thinking this seems a little harsh, and Big Brother if you’re reading, I’m sorry to offend you, but even you have to be with me on this one. Living here has given me so much respect for the Chinese culture in so many ways; after all, this is an ancient civilization responsible for the creation of gun powder and the compass among other things. Who doesn’t love the compass? But logic and efficiency, in my opinion, cannot be added to China’s “Things We Do Well” list. It’s not just me; you can ask almost any foreigner who has stayed here for any length of time; there is just an ass backwards way of thinking in this country.
Let me give you a small scale example from my first brush with Chinese “logic.” In the first few weeks here I had to hand over my passport so that official paperwork could be completed- not a big deal, I wasn’t using it anyways. One day when I’m in the middle of teaching a class, my supervisor trekked the five flights of stairs to my classroom and then tells me she needs to speak to me privately. Thinking this is semi-urgent, I make up something to occupy my class and step outside. She hands me my passport and says, “Here is your passport. But please bring it to me after class so I can make a copy.” Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m thinking it would make more sense to make a copy BEFORE bringing it to me in the middle of class. Chances were I didn’t need it for that particular hour and a half stretch of the day, but this is a classic example of Chinese “logic.”
The passport incident is only one small and seemingly insignificant anecdote, but I’m telling you, so much of the country is operated on this sort of thought process. I’ve been to the grocery store so many times and have bought a week and a half worth of groceries, only to be greeted by the same question, “Do you want a bag?” Nah, I thought I would practice my juggling skills on the way home and see how much of this crap I could keep in the air. Really? I just don’t get it. To be honest though, it’s more amusing than frustrating, and I suppose there is a possibility that the logic is so far above my head that maybe I haven’t yet grasped its genius inner workings. And in all fairness, if we started examining Western logic, there are so many holes it’s like looking at Swiss cheese.
But loogies and logic aside, I am in love with living here. I really am. I can’t pinpoint one specific thing about China that I love, but for some reason I love it all. I love the fruit vendors, and the street food, and the packaged milk, and the stray dogs on the street. I love that strangers giggle or stare at me with perplexed faces when I smile at them for no reason at all. I love that the streets are lined with pool tables and I love that friends here hold hands just because. I love hailing a taxi and practicing the only Chinese phrases I know with the driver. I even love that most of the time I understand nothing of what’s being said around me and everything is white noise, because it pushes me to want to learn. I love that I am learning something every day about the people, or the language, or the food, or myself and that I am not entirely one hundred percent at ease here. I mean that only in the best possible way, because if I felt one hundred percent comfortable here, then I wouldn’t be doing what I set out to do, which is challenge myself and get scared a little shitless. In truth, the streets are often filled with trash, the people don’t wear seat belts, and I have major ethical objections to the internet filters, but I love living in this bizarre parallel universe.

Beijing, baby!

Beijing and Beyond! Well, no, actually just Beijing. But still, out of Shijiazhuang! So Swine Flu is out of the picture, at least as far as my vacation is concerned, and I’m outta here! One train ride at 6:30 am (thanks to Nadya) later and we are on our way. Now I guess it would be a bit of a lie to say I’ve never been to Beijing, because in truth, I dragged my sorry, jet-lagged ass through the city when I first landed in China. But, with the exception of the buildings I saw out the taxi window from the airport to the train station, I can’t say I’ve seen much of the city. So now I’m heading to the city with my other foreign teacher friends, for whom Beijing is old news. There’s Nadya from Belarus, Richard from England, and Dani from Iowa, which may technically be part of the States, but in my book, anything east of Colorado and west of Pennsylvania counts as butt fuck Egypt. You probably need a passport to enter the middle of the country, so I just haven’t bothered.

The four of us arrive in Beijing at about 8:30 am which is still technically the middle of the night to someone not used to waking up before noon. Nadya has plans to meet up with a friend at the train station, so Richard, Dani, and I grab a taxi to our hostel. My first intention is to take a big, fat nap, but not until after I’ve had a proper American breakfast. I haven’t had bacon, hash browns, or toast in about 7 weeks, and that is too long to go without that option! And it’s only $3 for a full breakfast! Ahhhh, life is good; nothing beats fresh toast in the morning.

So, in theory, I knew the three of us would be sharing a room with others; I just hadn’t fully prepared myself for the actuality of it. In my delusional head, everyone would have decided Beijing was not worth the trip and we would have the room to ourselves. Hrrrumphh. Maybe I’ve been too spoiled by private hotel rooms and my own bathroom where I don’t have to wear flip flops in the shower, but this whole ten strangers to a room is quite the shock to my system. Since we got to the hostel around 9:00 in the morning, most of the inhabitants of Room 318 are still sleeping. And snoring. The only beds left are the top bunks, and I have a serious lack of coordination when I’m not trying to climb over a sleeping body, but when I am, but uncoordinated abilities tend to double. However, my need for a nap is that great, so I climb over everyone’s array of shit on the floor, the sleeping bodies, and hurl myself onto the top bunk. Looking around, the only person that really catches my attention is this guy on a bottom bunk who has so much hair, front and back, that he might as well be wearing a sweater; holy shit this guy is furry. It turns out his name is Levee from Israel, and he often leaves and has to come back shortly because he forgot his shoes. Don’t ask, because I don’t understand it myself.

So my first official sightseeing stop in Beijing is Tiananmen Square, and although it’s exciting to witness a square that was the official site for a needless massacre, it’s pretty much just a big square. Although, in homage to China’s 60th National Day Celebration, it has been decorated with some tacky crap and there are about 80 kajillion people roaming about. Still, it is my first sight seeing extravaganza and I am pumped! From here I can see the Forbidden City, although I didn’t go in. (And not because it’s forbidden, if that’s what you’re thinking). So, since Mao’s dead body exhibit isn’t open today, we decide to poke around and maybe check out a foreign book store, and then it’s back to the hostel to get ready for a night out. I’m about to piss myself with excitement, because for the first time in 7 weeks, I’m going to eat at Outback Steak House. Why come to China and eat American food, you might be asking yourself. Well let me tell you, I’d sell my soul right about now for a piece of real cheese, and 2 straight months of nothing but Chinese food starts to weigh on a person’s wellbeing. It is for my own good and for the good of those around me that I am eating an overpriced prime rib tonight, because if I hadn’t, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions. And don’t get me started on the Caesar salad I had, because I’ll probably start welling up at the memory. And I just realized I pretty much wrote an entire paragraph about the Outback, so maybe it’s about time to wrap up that segment of my blog. Moving along…

So many bars in Beijing and so little time! A very nice change of pace from the usual clubs we frequent, and after all, variety is the spice of life. After chilling with a few beers, we make our way to another bar where we proceed to hang out, take shots called “lube jobs” and I am conned into pantomiming and acting out what a lube job is to the Chinese bar tender. I wonder how many foreigners he’s gotten to do that just for shits and giggles. Anyways, it’s a shock to my system to see so many white people in one place, so I decide to mix and mingle and introduce myself to people and find out where everyone’s from. It’s going well until I stumble on this British chick, who turns out to be a giant, raving bitch. I started with a simple compliment: I liked her hair. And she retorts, “well, it’s kind of genetic so I don’t really have a choice in the matter. “OK British girl, I’m just trying to be nice. I try again, and ask her what she’s doing in Beijing and tell her I’m an English teacher from Seattle. She then says, “Wow. It must be hard to teach English when you can’t speak the language properly.” Yep, she’s one of those British people. Now my friend Richard ranks on America all the time, which is fine because he’s my friend and I can just as easily tell him that his queen has herpes, but this chick doesn’t know me! I don’t know why I keep bothering to try and win this girl over, but I try and develop some camaraderie by talking about China and thinking maybe we can commiserate about the squatting toilets and the lack of toilet paper. She asks me, “So you came half way across the world to piss and moan about tissue paper?” Alright British bitch, you win. I’m done. And just so you know, we kicked your asses once and we could do it again. That’s right, check your history book.
After that incident, we decided to go to a club, have overpriced drinks, and dance the night away. At about 4 o clock, I wander out of the bar and stumble into McDonalds for some middle of the night drunk munchies. Unfortunately, all this western food combined the plethora of shots I have pounded turn me into an emotional homesick wreck, and I start crying over my chicken nuggets like an oversized. I’m sure it was quite the sight, and I don’t want to think too much about it so we’re going to skip past it and the part where I drunkenly stumbled over sleeping hostel mates.
So now we’re on to the next day. Nadya has disappeared into no man’s land with a friend of hers, and Dani is off gallivanting with a Chinese man she met. Is it just me, or do people not use the word gallivanting enough? I think it should make a comeback. So basically, Richard is stuck being my tour guide and helping me to navigate the Beijing subway system. We eventually decide to take a long walk to a park called Beihei Park, which I thought was some hole in the wall landscape with some grass and benches. I didn’t know he was talking about the Imperial Gardens, and it turned out to be fantastically amazing. The temples, views, and scenery were a refreshing break from the busy grind of the city, and I could really imagine emperors coming here to collect their thoughts and be surrounded by beauty. It was worth the long walk in my inadequate flip flops (I was packing in a hurry at 5:30 am and I didn’t consider the best footwear). After trekking around town with my achy feet and chafed thighs, all I wanted was a nap and I unintentionally ended up sleeping through the hostel’s dumpling making party. Damnit! I was seriously looking forward to that.

Fast forward to the next morning after a sleepless night and being woken up by people entering and leaving the room, snoring, and opening my eyes to see Richard across the room in a man-thong. He claims they are normal underwear, but they were ridiculously small, and let’ s call a spade a spade. I don’t think anyone could go back to sleep after this; I sure as hell couldn’t. And I almost forgot to mention, that the day before, I threw a walnut at him and he freaked out, thinking it was a giant mosquito. What a lemon, that one is. So after breakfast we decide to meet up with Nadya who insists that the Olympic Village is the best sight to see in Beijing. So we saw the Bird’s Nest building, and the aquatic center, and walked around for an hour, which is one hour of my life that I will never get back. I’m sorry Nadya, I think it’s cool and all that the 2008 Olympics were held in Beijing, but there is only so long you can milk it, and there’s really nothing to get excited about now in my opinion. So now we’re on our way to the Summer Palace, and by this time I am really kicking myself in the ass for not bringing a good pair of walking shoes. And of course the Summer Palace is about 270 miles in circumference and we get to walk the whole thing! I am only mildly exaggerating…those emperors had quite the hook up. Anyways, the views, temples, and atmosphere were absolutely breath taking, and if it weren’t for the swarm of tourists it would have been so peaceful and soothing. And then we got to take a boat ride to an island in the middle of a lake, which is awesome! I love boat rides! Who doesn’t? I’ve never heard of anyone having a bad time on a boat. Except for maybe the Titanic, but that was ages ago!

So all in all, I enjoyed Beijing immensely, even if we almost missed our train due to a manipulative taxi driver and had to run like hell through the train station. I passed out on the train and woke up only to pass out about 4.7 seconds after we walked in the door. Definitely nice to have a break, short as it may be, from Shijiazhuang. In all truthfulness I feel a bit like a loser that this is my first time out of the city since arriving in China. Guess I need to make a bit more of an effort. I have only about 10 months less now, so I suppose I better get a move on!