This is a long time in the making, but I feel like I should
at least write a little something about my trip to Guiyang, seeing as it is the
only real vacation I’ve had out of the city. I had short work-related
trips to Shanghai and I went to Tokyo for a week during Chinese New Year, but
otherwise, Guiyang was my only out-of-Beijing experience within China.
Let me start with some of the facts: Guiyang is the capital
city of Guizhou province, a land-locked province in southwest China. Guizhou is
the poorest province, and Guiyang poorest capital city of a province in China
according to a very reliable source – Danny. I basically went to visit Danny,
an old William and Mary friend teaching English for the Peace Corps. at a
Chinese Traditional Medicine College in the city. I know some of my experiences
probably seem hard-core to friends back home, but Danny has some real stories.
For starters, being a Peace Corps. volunteer, he lives on a much tighter budget.
He’s also had violent illnesses and several brushes with death/severe bodily
injury; part of his ear was cut off when he was getting a haircut, for
instance. That said, he has a relatively nice, large apartment that could only
be improved with the addition of a Western toilet and a real shower. Again,
what do I mean by “real shower?” His shower is a metal hose hooked up to the
sink pipes and tied up by cord so that it dangles directly over the
Chinese-style hole-in-the-ground toilet, dripping a narrow stream of water from
overhead with nothing to show for water-pressure.
At
least the water was hot.
I visited over my lengthy October Holiday. I flew into the very
small Guiyang airport on a muggy Saturday morning and took a shuttle bus to
Danny’s campus. After a little sitting around my pile of luggage in the
southern heat and trying to tell Danny where I was with a thousand very tan
Chinese people staring at my neon-white complexion, we found each other and
dumped my bags at his apartment. We went to eat at a little dishes restaurant
near his home where they were obviously very familiar with him and excited to
see another foreigner with him. I think from about that moment on, most Chinese
people Danny and I associated with during my visit assumed we were dating. He
was white; I was white and visiting him in the poorest capital city in China; I
clearly must be his girlfriend. It didn’t help that during lunch I realized
that I forgot to pack underwear and dragged him to the nearest drugstore to
purchase a pack of very uncomfortable Chinese underwear. (I think I threw those
pairs away the moment I returned from Guiyang.)
I took a nap while Danny had his Chinese tutor over, but then
we spent most of that evening just catching up with each other and getting
dinner with some friends. Stories were exchanged. Eventually, I may type up
some of Danny’s stories for the sake of everyone else’s amusement. I’m not the
only person in China with hilarious shenanigans, apparently. We also graded some of his students' journals together. Of course I took this work seriously, but it was hard for us both not to stop every now and then and go, "Oh man, listen to this one..."
The next day I can’t recall
getting up particularly early, but I remember taking pictures from Danny’s 5th
floor apartment of the bustling markets on the street below. I also watched an
old couple wash their clothes on the roof of their concrete house with a dusty,
sleeping dog sleeping in between them. I believe we did get up early enough to
go down to the street under the bridge where the airport shuttle dropped me off
where a couple sold freshly-fried youtiao (a savory breakfast pastry) and warm
doujiang (soy milk). Danny had to teach, although it was a Sunday, because
classes would otherwise be missed due to the October holiday. (This is a common
theme. People may get ‘holidays’ off of work, but they aren’t really days off;
they usually have to work some other day they would normally have off to make
up for it. This has been the case for me, and it downright sucks.) I went along
as a surprise for his kids. I say kids, but really they are only a few years
younger than Danny and I and students in a university. That said, they are kids in a lot of ways. I introduced myself and Danny spent a few minutes
explaining our origins in college and he went on to teach his lesson. At the
end of class, Danny let the kids play a game of “ask the foreign girl
embarrassing personal questions” in which I was terribly disappointed that most
of the questions were relatively dull and unimaginative. However, I did briefly
entertain the class with the abridged version of my dating history. The sheer
number of boyfriends was enough to make me the new scandal of Danny’s college By sheer number, I mean I've had more than one boyfriend. Shocking!
Danny had a second class in which I took a more integrated role as an assistant
teacher in the planned English exercise, and that meant decidedly less discussion of scandal.
The best part of that day was when I was traveling in the school’s elevator
without Danny, and a bright-eyed freshman boy worked up the courage to ask me
in his best English “Are you my English teacher?” at which I had a really hard
time not laughing. Such hope in his voice! It was painfully adorable.
After classes, we went out shopping with some of
Danny’s Chinese friends. We went to a classy (and I mean classy by Chinese
standards) street market that was actually on a big walking overpass above a
busy intersection with crude boards nailed together, which technically made the
market an indoor one. I ended up getting a pair of earrings for something like 10
kuai. (Ooh, big spender!) That night we went out for Guiyang-style Chinese
barbeque. The barbeque (xiaokao) dining experience is much like the malatang
experience. Meats, vegetables, noodles, and tofu are set out, patrons fill a
plate of their favorites, the stall operator grills them, sprinkling
(drenching) them all the while in spices, vinegar and soy-based sauces, and, of
course, delicious MSG. It was good, but it took some time for my tongue to stop
burning. A big group of Danny’s Peace Corps friends joined us, and afterwards
we went out to a bar where I learned an array of amusing Chinese drinking
games. My favorite was the naughty version of rock-paper-scissors. A table of Chinese
invited Danny and I over to drink with them after a while. They were trying out
their English, but it didn't last. Remember that this was back in October, and my Chinese at
that point was pretty pathetic. Danny and his Peace Corps buddies ended up having what I'm sure was a deep conversation in Chinese with them. I just kind of sat there and
looked pretty. Danny and I split earlier than everyone else, and found out later that the girl in the Chinese group spewed
everywhere minutes after we left. (Good timing!)
The next morning I woke up
relatively early (considering this was my vacation), and took more pictures of
the view from Danny’s window. We decided that it would be loads of fun just to
aimlessly wander the city. We walked through a huge bazaar called the bird and
fish market. It actually had a lot more than birds and fish, but it wasn’t very
busy or bustling - I suppose because it was Monday. We meandered through the market and down to the river, which
was actually quite beautiful. There was an expansive teahouse built on a small
bit of land jutting out into the middle, and two lovely stone walkways along the
length—one near water level, and one about three meters above that on level
with the street. There were plenty of pavilion structures, tables, and benches,
most occupied by older Chinese playing cards or mahjong. We stopped in a huge,
expensive department store for lunch at the Ajisen Ramen (Japanese style FTW.) I remember this
particular department store being perhaps the most difficult one to navigate.
In fact, most department stores in China don’t seem particularly easy to
navigate. Signs are vague, small, few, and not always clear. Escalators and
elevators can be in very strange places, and are, in fact, practically hidden,
at times. All that aside, I remember finding a knockoff version of a Haagen
Dazs ice cream shop in the basement (Sandy Dazs) really hilarious. Afterwards,
we walked all the way down to the ‘people’s square,’ a huge stone-paved common
area with a huge Wal-Mart beneath it. Danny pointed out to me that across the
street from the people’s square was a government building with a statue of Mao
saluting. If you think about it, it kind of looks like he’s saluting the
Wal-Mart. Hm. This particular week, Wal-Mart had sponsored a photography
display; so beautiful pictures from all over the world were matted and put up
for viewing in people’s square. We didn’t even get to see all of them, but it
was a really pleasant surprise. We eventually shuffled underground into the
Wal-Mart, where we did a little bit of shopping for our camping trip. I forget
if I bought more underwear at this point. We made our way back towards Danny’s
place through an underground market where I found an entire shop (albeit small)
dedicated to cosplay. I actually didn’t expect that in Guiyang, so it was
another pleasant surprise. With Danny’s help, we talked to the two
geeky-looking guys running the place briefly about cosplay in Guiyang. I forget
if I had my I-pod with me and if I showed them pictures of my previous cosplay
experiences, or if I just told them about it. Either way, I think I surprised
them just as much as they surprised me. We eventually went out for full-body
massages at his favorite parlor. Since showering beforehand was involved in the
process, we were separated into male and female locker rooms, and I’m pretty
sure I scared the orthopedic shoes off of some Chinese grannies with my
buck-naked white self. (It’s not like it was fun seeing them, either.) The
massage was decent, except that the male masseuse, who was almost certainly
younger than me, only half-heartedly ‘groped’ me. He could have at least
smiled. (As a side note, of course he did not grope me, but as a full body
massage, there were some awkward moments—namely when he was working on my
thighs.) The whole experience cost something on the order of 45 RMB, or about
$7. The establishment we went to also had a ‘third floor’ where services
sky-rocketed in price, supposedly, but I wouldn’t know anything about that.
Besides, if my masseuse couldn’t even crack a smile and the opportunity to even
be that close in proximity a really cute foreign girl in the first place, I was
certainly never going to the third floor with him. He probably chain-smoked and
had diseases and only one pair of socks. (I’m not bitter.)
Overall, the thing which struck me most after walking around the city all
day was how some areas of the city were so very crowded and dirty and simply in
utter disrepair – the very scene you would imagine for a poor, industrial city -
while others were actually very nice, clean, modern, and even impressive. There
was also a lot of construction. My feeling was that, while Guiyang may
technically be a poor city, it is certainly experience rapid development and
modernization. I’d love to go back in a few years and see how much progress has
been made.
We went out to dinner with more Peace Corps people that night, took pictures
of dog meat being sold on the streets, had a great conversation about the
Chinese squat, followed by a squatting competition. Back at Danny’s place, we
watched the fun family classic film, “Teeth.” I think we tried to watch a
pirated copy of “Ponyo on the Cliffs by the Sea” (which was an adorable new
Studio Ghibli movie), but the quality was terrible, there was no English or
Chinese subtitles, and while I could understand about half of the scratchy
Japanese dialogue, Danny was a little lost. The clear solution was to watch a
horrible, hilarious movie about… well… let’s just say you can IMDB the movie if
you really want to know, but I don’t recommend it, and, in-fact, would advise
against it. However, it certainly brought me back to my freshman year of college,
when Danny and I lived in the same dorm and had all sorts of adventures and
antics—most involving him buying me hot dogs at the Wawa under threat of bodily
damage or humiliation.
That was the first delicious slice of my Guiyang
experience. More will come soon.
Last
month I was busy mimicking a plague victim; I had an intestinal infection that
destroyed my life for about three weeks and put me out a few thousand yuan. I
finally wound up in the hospital for a day where they stuck me with needles and
prescribed disgusting black ooze (traditional Chinese medicine) as well as a
week off of work. I generally feel better now, but at my check-up this past
week, the doctor warned me that I really need to take it easy for a while and
prescribed me more TCM. It’s difficult for me, because I finished my online
classes and the warm, dry weather we’re experiencing in Beijing most days (permitting
varying levels of air quality doesn’t kill the mood) has me itching to just get
out, walk around, shop, see things, and meet people.
The city has changed too. Most of the autumn and winter I
recall the streets and sky seeming relatively grey. I may have said something
similar in my last post, but along with the warm weather, everything seems to
be coming to life. Restaurants have set out tables outside on the sidewalks,
and people crowd them on nights and evenings to the point I have difficulty navigating
through them. Side streets that were relatively lifeless a few months ago are
now full of street vendors, construction projects, and all sorts of goods. You
can buy anything as common as fruits and vegetables, clothing, shoes, toys,
household items and tools, flowers, DVDs, and toys to the more upscale or
exotic products such as animals of all kinds, jewelry, Chinese artifacts,
Buddhist relics, and an array of electronic goods. This excludes, of course,
the perpetual presence of street foods like malatang, barbequed meat, stinky
tofu, sweet popcorn, and various fried breads and egg products. In the past two
months or so, fruits have been particularly prolific in the markets. Around
April or May I started noticed small mangos and freshly cut pineapples being
sold everywhere. More recently I can barely walk 20 feet down a sidewalk
without running into someone selling watermelons or huge bunches of bananas.
I’ve even noted an increase in the appearance of foreigners in my relatively
Chinese neighborhood. I’ve even made a number of Chinese friends (but it helps
that my Chinese has improved greatly over the past several months.) I know this
may sound crazy, but the warm weather seems to have made people more outgoing
and friendly towards me. A few months ago, I was used to people just pointing
and calling out “laowai.”
As for me, I was bogged down with work and study up until
mid-May, after which I promptly fell deathly ill. The city has been blooming
all around me, and I’ve been stuck at home studying, throwing up my internal
organs, and recovering. I’m trying hard to be a good kid – I try to get a lot
of extra sleep on the weekends and eat healthy food and take all my medicine -
but I’m finding that not even high levels of stress and crippling illness can
stop me from having shenanigans.
This post should serve as a personal status report. With any
luck, I’ll have some more interesting topics expounded upon in the next few
hours. I have the perfect soft armchair window-seat in the Starbucks a
30-minute walk from my house, and just plain spite for covetous strangers will
not allow me to get up until either I am about to starve to death or my bladder
explodes. In other words, I should be typing hopped-up on caffeine for another
few hours.
Okay, I think it's needless to say I've been busy. I know some of you are thinking,
"How hard can it be to write a little about China everyday?" Trust
me; I'm so busy I sometimes don't have time to shower. (Eww) It's okay. That's
only slightly an exaggeration. Every time I want to post, I think about other
work or studying I could and should be doing.
Nonetheless, I'm here to tell you that this weekend I've been
uploading a ton of pictures and videos that I will link when I am done. I may
also write a little bit about each little experience I've had in the past two
months - there have been many - but I probably won't write to my usual degree
of detail. (I know, I know, I'm wordy.)
I thought I'd entertain you all with a story about yesterday. This is what I
would say is fairly typical on my days off.
Ever since it started getting warmer here in Beijing, businesses have been
having all sorts of specials and promotions, and some businesses have had
smash-band grand openings. Some places have stayed low-key, but I have noticed
new furnishings or decor as I pass by. Shop renovation has been a big thing in
the past month. Flier distributors are proliferating. I even got a green (which
is actually quite brown) bag from a salon I never go to near my kindergarten.
It feels like the whole city was hibernating during the winter, and just now
everything has come to life.
So it's hard NOT to notice the new businesses. As a result, I've been a
little more experimental when I venture out at meal times. Yesterday, I noticed
a new malatang restaurant very close to my apartment complex, and decided to
try it out. Malatang is kind of like a 'choose your own adventure' food. In
some places, you take a basket and choose from an assortment of vegetables,
meats, and tofus on skewers, as well ad bundles of different noodles, fill your
basket, then hand it to the cook, he cooks it in a huge wire mesh ladle in a
boiling soup mixture, which is supposed to be quite spicy (and full of
delicious MSG), though spiciness varies from place to place. Then, they hand it
to you in a bowl and might add some of the soup mixture to it, spicy oil, and
garlic. These establishments are usually fairly clean and indoors, although not
always very tasty. They may also have a menu of other items (blasphemy!) Other
places, you just sit down at a large rectangular table with other guests, and
the soup mixture is bubbling away in a large pan in the middle. In these cases,
you just tell the attending cook what you want, he plops it in the pans for
you, then takes it out for you when it's done. Usually these places don't use
bowls, but metal plates covered in clean plastic bags. (Actually, you see this
at a lot of outdoor food stalls in China, and many cheap malatang places are
outside, or housed in what Westerners might refer to as rusted-out sheds and
lean-tos.) Of course, there are those who will just poke through the pans on
their own and take out whatever looks done an interesting instead of waiting.
You add your own garnish at these places. Everything is charged according to
skewers. Most of the time, skewers range in price from .5-1.5 RMB, depending on
what they contain. Meat and mushrooms are usually the most expensive. I usually
stick to vegetables and tofu as it is. In other words, malatang is a great way
to eat a lot very cheap. It's also great beer food.
So I decided to try a new malatang restaurant. It was actually rather late
in the afternoon, so I caught them when they really didn't have many things
out. (There was no tofu. I almost died.) But I took some vegetables, small
pork-filled dumplings, and noodles anyway. The shop people themselves were
sitting down for a big lunch together. Long story short, they asked me all the
basics (the questions I get all the time); where are you from? Why are you in
China? Do you like China? Do you like Chinese food? Do you think America is
better than China? The thing is, if you answer these questions right, you can
get free things. You may not believe me, but it's true. If you can answer all
of these with relative ease in Chinese, and say the right things, most Chinese
shop people will like you, and want you to come back. (I once accepted a free
massage from a hair salon.) Yesterday, I got a free can of coke with my lunch.
I was also introduced to the shop owner's son, and promptly told to talk
English at him. I gave his kid an English name. (This will also win you brownie
points with Chinese people. They love native speakers giving their kids a
'real' English name*) I named him Jack. I asked him how old he was (10) and put
a sticker on his head. (Carrying stickers for children wins you tons of brownie
points.)
Anyway, I may or may not go back frequently. They didn't have tofu when I
needed it most! But I will probably go back every now and then to see how Jack
is doing and to try to finagle some free malatang.
*There are, indeed, unreal English names. Some
of the better ones I've heard are Little Rice, Circle, Ice Cream, and Lucifer.
These are almost always names Chinese people pick for themselves, either because
it's a direct translation of their Chinese name, or because they think it
sounds cool.
First, I'd like to say
hello to all the new readers. I really am making an effort to update, if not
frequently, at least more regularly. Thanks! I enjoy the feedback, and it makes
it worth writing everything up.
The first week of February was actually fairly
lonely. I went back to work, but many people in Beijing were still at home or
visiting with friends for all of the Chinese New Year celebrations.
Nonetheless, the street scene was a much rowdier one than described in my
January post. Firecrackers were set of in the streets, parking lots, sidewalks,
and parks everyday from about 8 A.M. to 10 P.M. Less considerate parties would
set them off either earlier or later. At lunch break and in the evenings, it
was nearly impossible to walk outside and not see some fireworks bursting in
some corner of the sky. The sound was overwhelming. I felt like I couldn’t
escape the explosions, and I feared for any older people in my neighborhood
with weak hearts. The culmination of the celebration was on February 9th,
the lantern festival (yuanxiaojie). It’s technically the last day of the
Chinese New Year. Without knowing anymore than what the teachers at my school
told me, you’re supposed to write good wishes on a lantern and hang it up that
night. Here’s the wiki article in case you demand better than my poor
description:Lantern Festival
There was an astounding cacophony. I thought I was living in a war zone!
Especially in the evening, the streets were full of people each aiming to set
off their own string of firecrackers and those gathered to look on the
fireworks displays of others. The skies were full of flashing lights in every
direction; booming and banging everywhere I turned. The smoke was so thick that
it stung my eyes, and I could even smell it. The explosions reflected off of
the thick smoke screens, making me feel completely surrounded. Late that
evening and early the next morning, the streets and sidewalks were coated
thickly in singed red paper. Workers were sweeping the debris in huge piles
that looked like raked leaves. It felt very strange to simply be an onlooker of
all of it, going about my normal business
After that day, it seemed everyone trickled back
into their normal routine in Beijing.
On a side note, I found out the next day that an
excessive fireworks display on the lantern festival had actually set a famous
and expensive CCTV building on fire. I have a picture I took about a week ago when
I drove by it in a taxi:
While not really a part
of Chinese New Year, we also had Er Yue Er this past Thursday, February 26th.
I believe it’s another festival related somehow to the New Year. On this day,
everyone should get their haircut unless they have the Chinese zodiac sign of
the Dragon or the Snake. Dragons and Snakes are not supposed to touch any sharp
objects on this day, such as knives and scissors. It’s bad luck. True to custom,
everywhere I walked Thursday, I peeked into the hair salons, and they were all
packed. I felt a little bad for my hair stylist friends, who probably were on
their feet all day, but I also know that the influx of business must have been
nice after a month of many locals being out of town. Business was generally
pretty slow in my neighborhood during February. Being an Ox girl myself, I got
my bangs cut.
I shouldn’t forget the
latest and trendiest festival in February: Valentine’s Day. I honestly wasn’t
sure what level of involvement to expect from local businesses, but Valentine’s
Day seemed like it was fairly well recognized, and a big deal in terms of a
money making scheme. Oh course the foreign businesses (such as Dairy Queen and
Pizza Hut) were decked out for the day, and had special products for the
occasion. Chinese businesses also wanted in on the action, though. Several
places were selling special arrangements of expensive flowers and candy.
Ironically, it was impossible to find actual Valentine cards. On the actual
day, I spent my evening with my very good friend, Dawu. He’s one of my hair
stylist friends who doesn’t make a lot of money, and is very much a boy from
the country. He’s not very worldly. He admitted he didn’t even know it was
Valentine’s Day and that he’d never celebrated it before. He was very bashful.
It was adorable. We went out for dinner at a Jiaozi restaurant (Jiaozi are the
Chinese dumplings Americans refer to as potstickers.) We both ate about 25
Jiaozi and went to a newly opened game center near the metro station. Walking
around the streets proved and interesting journey. There were street merchants
hawking all variety of flower arrangements. There were roses in various
wrappings, some in different colors and some with glitter. There were so many
vendors that we ran into one every few steps. The pressure was certainly on for
any man walking with any woman that night. Once safely in the game center, Dawu
preferred playing the basketball game, which seems to be very popular with many
Chinese, and I played a little House of the Dead 4. I made him hold my purse
while I was shooting zombies. A few Chinese people stopped to stare at me, and
I even had a Chinese guy come up and start playing with me. That was about the
time I let myself run out of credits and left with Dawu, leaving a very sad
Chinese gamer. We went back to my apartment and watched appropriate Valentine’s
Day movies: 300 and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. In total, I got flowers
from 3 boys: a bouquet from the police officer that helped me after I was
pick-pocketed (which was very nice and appreciated, but a little awkward,)
Dawu’s younger co-worker, Dongya (my little brother), and Dawu. I actually felt
really bad, because I know how much they make and how much flowers cost. I
think I appreciated them more, as a result, though. It was incredibly warm and
sweet of all three of them. And honestly, I don’t think there was a strong ulterior motive on any of their parts. They all know I get really homesick on
holidays. I turned around and bought them chocolate, which I delivered the next
day as a thank you.
Looking back on it, February was a very festive
month. Nonetheless, I feel like I was actually rather bored and alone for most
of it. That may sound depressing, but it was fun to watch.
Well, I got back from Tokyo last night. I lugged my huge suitcase through the Beijing train system and eventually got them safely back to my apartment, then went out for dinner. Upon paying for dinner, a man pickpocketed my wallet. Now, before you react to that, keep in mind that I just got back from Japan. I had very little Chinese money in my wallet, and I had taken all my Japanese money out and put it in another pocket of my purse on the plane. My passport was safely tucked away elsewhere too. So otherwise, this man stole my wallet which had a paltry amount of cash in it. It also had my Chinese Union Pay card and my Bank of America card, neither of which I was very worried about: he didn't know the pin number on the Union Pay card, and the BoA card has my picture on it AND he doesn't know my pin. The wallet did, however, have the slip of paper that said I'm registered to live in Beijing which was issued by the police. The minute after the pickpocket left the restaurant - when I the restaurant manager realized what had happened, there was a moment of "What do we do" before the manager called the police to come take my statement and help me out. Three officers came, the manager briefly gave them his description of the incident, then went back to work. One of the officers spoke some English, and he asked "Well, what can I do to help?" It's a fair question, I guess. He helped me block my Chinese card, then they took me to the station to take my statement and figure out my registration card. I actually have to go back to the station tomorrow to finish that up, but it's pretty much taken care of. I will also get a new Union Pay card in about a week, and I'll eventually get a new BoA card (it actually doesn't take priority - I have more saved in my Chinese account.) In the mean time, I can exchange my remaining Japanese Yen for Chinese Yuan, and live off of that.
I mean, sure I'm mad my wallet was stolen, and I'm aggrivated that I have to deal with getting new cards and all of that, but it was certainly and experience. I was able to meet most of the guys working the night shift at the local police office, who were really nice to me, and I was able to take a ride in a Chinese police car. In fact, I kind of got the sense that the officers that helped me hope they get to see me again sometime. The one who spoke English seemed to keep hinting: "Wow, you live pretty close! I didn't know! Maybe you could help me with my English." There was a certain sense of excitement for them: it seemed to me like I was the first and only foreigner that had passed through their doors, if only in recent memory. It's kind of nice having an entire Chinese police office fussing over you. I would have paid as much as was in my wallet just for the experience.
Outside everyone is excited. It's Chinese New Year, and with few sad exceptions, many people are happy to be going home, away from the troubles and stress of work. Vendors are selling everything from paper decorations to plastic lanterns, red clothing and house decor (like pillows and tableclothes), to fireworks. The past week I've been scared witless several times by the sudden, earsplitting sound of firecrackers being set off in the streets at all times of the day, but I have also been awed glipsing, at chance, at unscheduled fireworks displays in public areas throughout the neighborhood. Just this evening, I was walking home from dinner when I saw severl professional-looking fireworks set off right across the street from my apartment complex, and I couldn't help but giggle. Red and glittery gold paper and plastic New Years decorations are everywhere to be seen, finally replacing the unprecedented Christmas displays. Some businesses are closed, and others have been packed to the brim this past week. Most of the children didn't even come to my class this week, because of the New Year, but a few others came every single day, despite the New Year. It's been crazy. so here I am, in my freezing cold apartment, wearing new, red "good fortune" socks and underwear I bought for less than 10 RMB at the local Wu Mei, contemplating the future of this blog. My sad theory is that, while I have not had classes this past month, once classes start again and I'm too busy to post regularly, I will post more. Don't ask me how that works.
However, where I have not been updating my blog in the last month or so, I have been out living.
I have a few pictures up on my photobucket account: it's basically some pictures of my neighborhood and some of the friends I've made with the entire staff of a local hair salon. I love boys who spend more time on their hair than I do.
Okay, so to recap, I had to move. Technically, I didn’t have
to, but not moving wasn’t a great option. Basically, the school I was set to
teach in was undergoing a remodel. Indefinitely. Of course, having me twiddle
my thumbs up in Haidian didn’t make anyone happy – not Red, Yellow, Blue, the
Chinese company I don’t technically work for, but kind of do: not Scholastic,
who signs my paychecks: and certainly not me. Even though I wasn’t teaching
didn’t mean I didn’t have to work, and it was a lot more draining to have to
run all over Beijing every other day to different locations depending on where
the company needed or wanted me to go ‘assist’ or ‘observe.’
I started looking at new apartments in the south Chongwen
district before the October holiday, but I ran into many of the same issues
that I did the first time I went house hunting. Despite the craftiness of the
two agents assigned to me, they were pretty good guys, and, after looking
around a few days, they actually tried to find me apartments according to my
specifications or ones they thought I might like that were still in my price
range. I still see them occasionally (They live in my neighborhood. I totally
bug them whenever I need help.) I didn’t find a place before the October holiday,
but needed to, and did, only a few days after my glorious return from Guiyang (around October 9th-10th).
It’s ever so slightly more expensive than my old place, but the location is
good and convenient to my new work. It’s also bigger and newer than my old
apartment. The apartment complex is a little more ‘upscale,’ but I’m not sure
how I feel about that yet. I think it really said something good about me to
the locals when they saw me walking into the older building in the
down-to-earth neighborhood in Haidian everyday. Of course, my apartment in
Haidian was rather nice, but it was definitely older. My new apartment is
almost too much for me. It’s like a middle-class gated community. There are
some definite perks. The neighborhood is composed of some 15-story apartment
buildings surrounding a decent-sized courtyard with a man-made pond with a
walkway resembling a dock. The pond connects to a small man-made brook that
weaves through the courtyard. On the other end is a small pool with large rocks
in it. Colorful fish normally swim in the brook, but it was drained and the
fish all relocated to the dammed up pond in preparation for the winter. There
is a small community of neighborhood cats who hang out behind the same building
everyday. I have joined the ranks of apartment dwellers that pat them on the
head and bring them scraps of food. The courtyard also contains exercise
equipment and some ping-pong tables. There is a convenience store right next to
each of the gates.
In contrast, the road I live off of is mostly older
buildings and apartments and less upscale, and all around smaller and dirtier
than my old area. A lot of locals give me these knowing looks as I walk through
the gates to the apartments everyday; something to the effect of, “Of course
the foreigner lives there. It’s nice, and she can probably afford it.”
It’s been a month, so I like to gloss over a little, but let
me tell you, finding the place and moving in was a huge, life-sucking chore. I
signed the contract for the new apartment, had a lengthy discussion full of Chinese
anger and dramatics with my old landlady and her two daughters (they didn’t
want to give me back any of my unused rent money, even though, contractually,
they had to), and packed up and moved all my earthly possessions across town in
one taxi with my friends Lily and Zhang Liwei in a matter of two days. The
worst part about it? The sudden move didn’t change the fact that I had work on
one of those days in Daxing, which was a $15 taxi ride from Haidian, one way.
It was the demo-class for my new work. That means I had to be super-energetic
and teach a class of 19 children I’ve never met before without encountering any
major glitches. At the end of that charade, I was subjected to a barrage of
(stupid) questions from the well-meaning parents. Of course, the children were
ridiculously ill behaved; their parents were there, they were totally
unfocused, they were clueless and confused about the whole English thing, and
they didn’t really ‘get’ that this new, weird lady with a funny face was their
teacher. During the question session with the parents, one of the parents asked
the requisite question about my credentials. I still felt a little offended by
it, but mostly because of the way she asked; it was very round about. She
inferred that maybe, possibly, I was too shy with children (which is
ridiculous,) and therefore might be an uncomfortable and (inexperienced)
teacher. No, I don’t have teaching experience just oozing from my resume, but I
have experience nonetheless, and I trained with Scholastic for nearly two
months before I actually started teaching. You try acting familiar with 19
three-year-olds you’ve never seen before in a language they don’t understand.
Without knowing the children, it’s hard to know what works and what doesn’t. In
fact, the first week of teaching was a big ball of awkward. It got better once
the children came to know me and understand what I expect of them in class. It
wasn’t happening in that 30-minute demo class.
Oh, did I mention the fact that the apartment, despite all
of my new landlord’s assurances, did not come readily available with Internet?
For an entire week, I was without access to, well, anything. I couldn’t do
homework, regular work, blogging, picture posting, and I got behind on my
lolcats. 660 RMB, a 6 day wait, and sending Liwei to harass my building
managers is what finally got my internet up and working.
My current
apartment has a lot more built-ins and was all around less dirty, but it still
took a good month or so of cleaning bits and pieces of the apartment to get all
of my things moved in and the apartment in a state of clean I can live
comfortably in.
The only
other major issues I had moving in were figuring out how to buy gas to keep me
in hot water, and then how to actually turn on the central heating. A trip to
my real estate agents (who I’m pretty sure love me secretly, despite the uncontrollable wretching) helped me figure
out that I could only buy gas at the Agricultural Bank a 15 minute walk from my
apartment. I suffered without heat the most of November, because I was just so
darn busy almost all day everyday, and couldn’t bother. The fact that I didn’t
know who or how to ask was just peripheral. That issue was also solved by
drafting Liwei into battle against my housing management office. After that, I
had heat. That was only about a week ago, though, and temperatures have been
below freezing since early November. I’m just glad I didn’t shrivel up and die
in my sleep.
That’s about everything involved in my big move to Anlelin
Rd.
Yes, it's been a good long time since I updated. I have been working on posts in my free time, but haven't finished any. It's not so much that my new job is too demanding or my student workload is too much, though those factors have had a significanty impact. The truth is, things have been incredibly crazy, and it's really really cold in Beijing.
Just as a quick rundown of my goings on:
I moved to the south side of Beijing
I started a new teaching job at the RYB Daxing Kindergarten
Halloween!
Another English teacher was injured by a car and is going home to the U.S. permanently next week
Two other English teachers are leaving Beijing for personal reasons
One of the Chinese teachers at Daxing was let go because of crazy circumstances. (She was incredibly irresponsible, and I personally think the kindergarten made the right decision.)
I have made friends with people in my neighborhood -sort of.
Updates should be forthcoming. I am nearing completion, but thought I'd give everyone reason to believe I'm still alive.
I'd give more of the juicy details about the goings on of the teachers who are leaving, but I do want to respect their privacy -and the company's- to an extent. I would like to note that with little exception, these things are just things that happen, and they have all happened in a reliatively short amount of time.
Despite being a little scattered, though, things are good. I really like my kindergarten. I really like my neighborhood. School isn't perfect, but I'm doing reasonably well, I think. All around, everything's okay.
Okay folks. I give you credit if you haven't given up on this blog so far. It's been nuts this past month or two, what with moving, changing jobs, and lack of internet.
The good news is that I really am getting settled into my new job at the Kindergarten and should be back on track with my graduate studies by the end of this weekend. That means I will once again have my evenings and weekends free to have shenanigans and write about them.
For now, please say hello to Mr. Goth-Emo Pear. He has been keeping my company this week, but he doesn't say much for my state of sanity.
Look out, Mr. Goth-Emo Pear! You're going to fall!
I didn't die. I just moved to the other side of Beijing and was deprived of Internet for a week. I suppose that's similar to death.
The new pad, if I do say so myself, is pretty freakin' sweet. It has its own problems, of course, but the new land lord is a great improvement. You should have seen the drama I came up against when I told my old land lady I had to move for my work.
Is it sad that I could move all my earthly possesions in one cab? This is not to metion that the cab ride itself was only about 11 USD
I love the new neighborhood. It's not as rich and high tech, but it's very down to Chinese earth. My old neighborhood had decidedly Chinese flair, but the smells and crowded sidwalks of the new neighborhood just scream out, "This is China," to me. Don't misinterpret; it's still a nice neighborhood. My apartment is actually much newer and nicer.
It's in a convenient location for communiting to my new job.
By the way, I am now teaching 19 3-year olds (not 3 19-year olds...) in Daxing.
When the situation stablizes some more, and when I catch up on the past week of my graduate studies work, I promise, promise, promise, I will pump out the updates. I'm projecting next Thursday.
I could tell from a few different city maps that it was not
all that far from where I live, but I wasn’t sure if there was a bus I could
take. Some Chinese friends assured me that I should just take a cab: it wasn’t
far, and the ride would only cost 10 kuai. There was crazy traffic getting into
the parking area in the morning, however, and I had the cab drop me off at some
distance, so I still ended up having a 5-10 minute walk to the gate. Around the
gate, I had my share of people coming up to me trying to sell me things like
post cards as well as people asking, “You need English guide?” I even had some
other Chinese tourists asking for their picture with me. I really need to start
charging for that.
I was only a little frustrated that I couldn’t truck it
straight to the ticket office. Tickets are 30 kuai, but you can get an
all-access pass for 60 kuai. Yi He Yuan is so big, though, that you only really
need the 30 kuai pass unless you JUST want to see the other attractions which
cost extra. They also had audio guides, but they aren’t cheap by Chinese
standards. I believe they were something like 100 kuai on top of the deposit. I
went ahead and bought a 10 kuai map, even though it was not the most helpful
map. (It was NOT to scale.) I went on in and started looking at the rocks and
buildings. There were a lot of rocks and buildings. I decided to go against the
perceived flow of traffic and headed towards the lake, away from the rocks and
buildings. This was probably a good move. The lake is huge, and the walk around
it took the majority of my day. It was well worth it, though.
Interestingly, it seems like there was a sort of field trip
that a large number of army trainees were on. By midday, I think the entire
Chinese army all had pictures with me. My face hurt from smiling, but I made
out with some of my own pictures, at least. The worst part was it wasn’t just
the army men, but it was also a number of other Chinese tourists. Occasionally,
I received pitying looks from other foreigners.
But the scenery was absolutely
beautiful. I don’t think I would have changed much. After a leisurely but
lengthy walk around the lake all morning and into afternoon, which also
involved crossing steep bridges and romps through a willow and bamboo forest, I
was directly across from where I started. There was a small cluster of Chinese
wooden buildings and more big rocks, and one of them had a small convenience
store inside selling chips, drinks, candy, and cup noodles for lunch. They also
had a photo service where you could dress up in Manchu royal costumes for 20
kuai. The costumes, of course, were a little fake and corny, but with creative
photography, you can get some really nice pictures out of it. There was also
beautiful scenery from that location on the lake for a backdrop. After
polishing off some cup noodles and tea and talking to some of the Chinese
people sitting at the counter next to me, I decided that for 20 kuai (around
$3), I might as well give the Chinese-style glamour shots a try. There were a lot of giggly Chinese people,
young and old, as I traipsed around the building in my traditional polyester Chinese robes, and the shopkeeper followed behind, becoming my
personal photographer. In fact, one of the other customers asked if he could
take pictures with me and for me, but the shopkeeper said his pictures were no
good. I tried really hard not to laugh, but the goofy smile on my face was most likely a tell-all.
After my little costume party, I pushed forward, eager
to see the more major and important buildings and rocks I had avoided in the
morning. I got a little bit lost, but that wasn’t so bad, since the scenery was
nice, and there were plenty of places to pull over, sit down, and take
pictures. As I circled back around, there were also an increasing number of
shops with all of the same merchandise. And none of it I wanted. Even though I
really like Yi He Yuan, I was a little discouraged that most of the buildings
are full of all the same shop, essentially. I did see interesting sights,
though. For example, the famous marble boat and more of the high arched
bridges. In front of one of the buildings, a crew was filming something. A
crowd of Chinese and I were watching the process. When I tried to take a
picture of the cameraman filming, I was scolded. Clearly, I was trying to steal
their film secrets?
It was getting later in the day, and I was slowing down. It
didn’t help that I somehow managed to climb up the mountain and sneak into the
Buddhist temples on the hill. The large, most famous one is called the Tower of
the Fragrance of the Buddha, and is a little more than 40 meters high (totally
stolen from a guide book). The revolving archives were next to it, but looked
like they were closed for renovation. Since I basically went straight up the
small mountain, I spent a good 15 minutes just sitting at the top, looking out
over the lake, and talking to a German tourist with my disgustingly terrible
German. He was headed to Suzhou Street, which seems like it would be a very
cool street to walk down, but I was at a point where I did not feel like seeing
anything new and certainly was not in the mood for shopping. I left it for
another time.
I stumbled around trying to figure out how much longer I
should stay and what things I could see on my way out. I met a few other
foreign tourists on my way out – one from Ireland and one from Amsterdam. I
ended up sharing a taxi with the guy from Amsterdam. We also got Mahua noodles.
He was apparently in town for some conference, and from what I derived, he
interns for a professor who works on the Large Hadron Collider. Since he was
only in China for a short time, I’m glad I could introduce him to Mahua
noodles.
But I should backtrack a little. Getting a taxi from the
Summer Palace around closing time was an ordeal. I knew that there would be
considerable traffic leaving the actual parking lot, so I went to the main
road. However, empty taxis would pass me, probably assuming they could make
more money if they picked someone up from the entrance. Eventually (maybe after
10-15 minutes) we got one. It ended up being worth the wait. The taxi driver
knew exactly where he was going (some taxis have no idea where I live), but he
also knew how to avoid the major intersections and traffic. I was praising his
driving when I realized he understood most of what I said. He was beaming.
My friend from Amsterdam reminded me of how I acted my first
week or so in China. Everything amazed him. He even took pictures of them
making noodles in Mahua. It was weird to feel like a host, though. My Chinese
is so bad.
I was exhausted, but got home around 7pm. Yi He Yuan
ended up being quite a perfect day trip. However, next time, I might go
specifically to see some of the things I missed, like Suzhou Street, some of
the buildings and big rocks near the entrance, and an art gallery that costs a
little extra near the southern Bafang gate. Who knows how long all that will
take…
Remember; all of my photos are available on my Photobucket account, Kamizilla
The train is certainly less expensive than flying, but not by a lot if you
have a soft sleeper. I mean, you might be talking a difference of 50$ in some
cases, but more in others, if the distance is further. But the train takes much
longer, too. If you’re really on a budget, but have time, go with the train. Of
course, the train from Shanghai to Beijing only took 12 hours, but I didn’t
have to go the airport and go through security, I suppose. In fact, the only
security I had to pass through was to show my ticket and passport, then chuck
all my bags on a conveyor belt that went through a massive x-ray machine. I
waited in a large waiting room crammed with people with Cecelia from Scholastic
until the train was ready to board. She was concerned about my heavy bags and
the state of my sometimes failure of a back, so she asked a man near us
politely if he’d help me put all my bags on the train. He was ecstatic. Not
only did he carry my heavy duffle through the teeming masses to the train platform,
but his ticket was for car 2 and mine was for car 13, but he walked down to car
13, found my bunk, and helped me put my bag under the bed. Wow. I talked to
Cecelia, and I think she was going to arrange some way to thank him a little
more formally. I hope so!
Our train was scheduled to leave at 7:40. There were three other beds and
people to fill them in my car. Across from me was a girl a little older than me
working in Beijing. She was thrilled to talk to me, but once the train was in
full throttle, the snack vendors made a few passes, and I almost fell into the
jerky toilet getting ready for the night, I became very tired, and passed out.
The beds were surprisingly comfortable.
That is, until I woke up around
midnight. There were people in the hallway talking and smoking, and my throat
was sore from all the traveling and the air conditioning. I got up quietly,
pulled on some pants, in the complete darkness, and slowly undid the latch on
my bunk. I walked up and down the train, looking for some hot water to drink,
and found dispensers near most of the rest rooms, but there were no cups. Some
middle-aged men told me in Chinese to go to car 9, since that was the dinning
car. After not stumbling to car 9, I found out it was closed. Some train
attendants were sitting in a small alcove near the front of car 9, and they
were giddy at the chance to use their English. They asked if they cold help,
and I explained that my throat hurt and I was looking for hot water. One of
them promptly unlocked the dinning car and emerged minutes later with a cheap
paper cup, but that was more than good enough. I used the hot water dispenser
liberally and let the girls practice all their best English on me. One of them
explained to me that her boyfriend lived in Beijing, and she would finally get
to see him. She’d been busy working for the past week, and she’d been on the
train for over 24 hours.
Eventually, I felt too exhausted to let a little thing like a sore throat
keep me from sleep, snuck back to my bunk, curled up in the warm covers, and
let the train rock me to sleep.
I woke up scared. I could see light peeking through the drapes over the
window, but I couldn’t feel the train moving at all. When I looked out, I could
see that the train was moving, but only very slowly, and there was thick fog
all around. I could barely see the ground. I lay in bed with my eyes closed,
and the train eventually picked up speed again, and my bunkmates woke up one by
one. We all got dressed and opened the window. We came into recognizable parts
of Beijing as we were getting our entire luggage together, and sooner than I
knew it, everyone was scuffling off the train as quickly as they could. The
girl in my bunk helped me get my bag off the train, where my friend Wei was
waiting. Getting out of the train station was just a matter of letting the
crowds carry you along to the outside. There was a long wait for taxis, but I
had already set my mind to it. None of that lugging a huge bag on the subway at
7 in the morning for me thanks.
The rest of the weekend I ended up having to go to work, but it’s worth
noting that I didn’t feel entirely tired, despite taking the train all night
long.
I may try to take the overnight train to some other
places in the future; I really want to go to Xi’an, for example. But if the
train takes much more than a day (which it can if you’re traveling long
distances), I’m not sure it would be worth the money saved.
Tuesday I went out into the big world of Beijing. I decided to actually put off the predictable Forbidden City, Tian An Men, and Mummy Mao for a later date, and stayed close to home, here in Haidian. The Summer Palace, or Yi He Yuan is only one of a few sight seeing spots out to the North West, and certainly one of the better known ones. Other places out of the central city I'd like to see are the ruins of the Old Summer Palace (Yuan Ming Yuan), the Ming Dynasty Tombs, and the Fragrant Hills Park, to name a few. I would like to state, for the record, that the Summer Palace is huge, and if you're in no hurry to see all of Beijing, you could probably spend two whole days trying to see everything there is to see on the grounds of the Summer Palace at a leisurely pace. There were quite a few things I didn't get to, and I was there from 10 A.M. to 6 P.M.
I also love that my lunch felt like a picnic in a remote Chinese garden, but I was actually in Beijing eating a cup noodle surrounded by Chinese folks using broken English mixed with Beijing Hua (the local dialect) to ask me where I'm from and if I like China.
I will certainly write about the experience once my messy housing situation is under control.
