Top Tens

12.07.2008

Top 10 Things I DON'T Miss About China:

10. Having everyone stare at me everywhere I go and everything I do.

9. Random people shouting 'Hello!' at me constantly.

8. Riding my crappy bicycle around, escaping death at every turn.

7. Meeting crazy laowais.

6. Being the minority in a major way.

5. Not understanding what people around me are saying.

4. Insane taxi rides and angry cabbies.

3. Pollution.

2. The food.

1. Every single task being a complicated adventure.

Top 10 Things I DO Miss About China:

10. Having everyone stare at me everywhere I go and everything I do.

9. Random people shouting 'Hello!' at me constantly.

8. Riding my crappy bicycle around, escaping death at every turn.

7. Meeting crazy laowais.

6. Being the minority in a major way.

5. Not understanding what people are saying around me.

4. Insane taxi rides and funny, sweet cabbies.

3. Appreciating each day with beautiful, clear blue skies.

2. The food.

1. Every single task being a complicated adventure. 

A Day In Collin's Life

12.01.2008

I was inspired by Tracy's recent blog depicting some of the intricacies of daily life here in China. I'd actually been wanting to do something similar, as I felt I've really slacked on sharing my experiences here, which while not being so "crazy" any more, they're rife with wonderment, joy, humor, fulfillment, and WTF's?

So here's my attempt at giving you a peek into a day in the life of a Meiguoren Yingwen laoshi (American English teacher), 10 months later....


here is what our apartment corridor looks like, our apartment door is on down on the right...


this is the view from the corridor...the tall building in the distance is adjacent to the shopping mall I work in.




Here's a video of me riding from our apartment complex, down our street, and to the subway stop. I use this route when I need to take the subway, such as the mornings I have Mandarin lessons across town. I've been fighting a cold, so sorry about the coughing and throat-clearing in the video -- gross.


If I were to go straight instead of stopping at the subway, I would take Zhichun Lu (street) towards the West, then turn right onto Zhongguancun Street. Zhongguancun district is considered to be the Silicon Valley of China, as it is the IT, tech, electronics, and all things computers district.

Here is me headed down the Zhichun Lu towards Zhongguancun.


And as you might have noticed, I commute to work on the wrong side of the road, weaving through on-coming traffic, but if you've ever been to China before, you'd know that this is the norm. It is quite amazing at how desensitized I've became....riding my bike into oncoming traffic, holding a camera, and all the "close calls" (the "close call" phenomenon doesn't even exist here) through the hustle and bustle of Beijing doesn't even phase me anymore in the slightest. Keep in mind these videos are NOT shot during rush hour. The streets are quite tame here.

Lastly, my ride up Zhongguancun toward the shopping mall in which my center is located, ends with me at one of many bike-valet that surrond the area (and Beijing). This one is especially impressive with it's double-decker rack. I pay .50 yuan per day to park it here. There are approximately 9 million bicycles in Beijing!


here is my bike valet....


and here's my beast. it's completely natural to feel envious...




here is the area that I work in full of shopping malls and electronics stores....



And here's the mall that I work in...(yes, working inside a mall is awful and I don't want to talk about it)...


entering the shopping mall one finds a recreation of the Zhongguancun area...
a bird's eye view...
and after an escalator or two, you arrive at my center

and at the end of the day, this is what makes it all worth it, my wonderful students:
I hope to make more blogs such as this, as I feel it is the small things in my China-life that are the most profound part of this experience.

Chinese Training

11.24.2008

I am now officially trained in the methodologies, procedures, and the culture of Chinese trains.

Before this last weekend, I had ridden on a train in China once-- a high speed bullet train to Tianjin, which is only 30 minutes each way. The train ride was smoother, easier, and cheaper than the cab ride from my house to the train station. This last week, however, I spent 3 of 4 nights on 11-12 hour overnight train rides. Slightly different experience.

I wanted to see some new cities and provinces before going home in December, so I conned Sixiao into taking a last minute trip with me. [Being unemployed and being my best friend, she really had no choice in the matter]. We decided upon going to Xi'an to see the Terracotta Warriors, but my wise hao pengyou (best friend) felt that a trip to Xi'an only would be a bit of a waste-- we should try to see more on our way back. After consulting maps, the internet, and friends who have traveled these places before, we added a city called Pingyao to our itinerary. Pingyao is an ancient city, better preserved than most of its kind. Its city wall is still fully in tact and the houses and buildings and streets have, for the most part, been left unchanged for years. [I just sounded like a travel brochure. Sorry].

Anyway, to get to Xi'an from Beijing, we would take an 11 hour overnight train. The choices for tickets are "standing tickets" (yes, people stand for 11+ hours on trains), "hard seats," "hard sleepers," and "soft sleepers." Sleeper tickets are beds that you can lie down in, the difference between "hard" and "soft" being minimal-- or so we thought.

The hard sleeper trains are made up of many chambers, each housing 6 beds each-- one bottom, middle and top bunk on two opposing walls. The beds are smaller and bit more uncomfortable than a soft sleeper. Soft sleepers only have 4 bunks per chamber and they are private-- you have a door that locks and closes, you can control your own lighting (hard sleepers are "lights out" at 10 pm), and you have more room to lay down, more room for your belongings and less strangers to share your space with.

Sho and I boarded our train at 9:30 pm, with the estimated arrival in Xi'an being 8:30 am. We figured we'd get settled, shoot the breeze for an hour or so, get a full night's rest, wake up fresh and ready in Xi'an.

We poked our head into our chamber. Two men were already lying on the bottom bunks. Sho had booked us the middle bunks. We kept our fingers crossed that the tops would stay open. It is slightly awkward in the middle bunk before you are ready to lay down because there isn't enough room to sit up. After arranging our belongings (place them above your head, away from the door and potential thieves) we half-lay, half-arched awkwardly as we talked and waited for lights out. The ticket collector came by and one of the men on the bottom bunks asked if he could upgrade to a soft sleeper. Sweet! Only one random man in our sleeping quarters!

Lights went out, we laid down. A few minutes later, we see shadows in our doorway. One man climbed into the remaining bottom bunk, another climbed his way to an empty top bunk. Damn! Now we had three lao tous (old men) to deal with. Sho's voice pipes up from the dark, "Dude. I bet they're gonna snore."

"Nooo! I really hope they don't."

"They will."

Within ten minutes, the snoring had begun.

It began with the man above Sho. Not so bad at first, but growing louder and louder as the man fell deeper and deeper asleep. Then he stopped. Yes! I sighed with relief at the thought of getting a possible 8 hours of sleep still.

The relief was short lived-- the snoring began again. This time, however, it came from the man in the bunk below Sho. Different kind of snoring, not as loud, but just as annoying.

"Are you awake?" Sho asked.

"Yes. How could I not be?"

"This sucks!"

"I know."

Soon, the man above Sho started to snore again. They sawed away like lumberjacks, cutting through the dark room with their awful sounds.

Just when I didn't think things could get any worse, the man below me joined as well. We lay, wide awake, listening to a snoring chorus (or what I like to call a "snorus") of three Chinese lao tous.

A few hours later, as I tossed and turned, I swore I heard a 4th person snoring. Traitor! I thought to myself. Sho passed out on me and joined them! I couldn't believe it.

However, Sho's voice spoke up again, "UGH! Shut up!"

"You're awake?" I asked rhetorically.

"Yeah! I thought you were asleep though-- I coulda sworn I heard a fourth person snoring!" she laughed.

"I thought that was YOU!" We both laughed despite our misery. We decided to put in our MP3 players and come to terms with the fact that the next day was going to be a looonnnggg day.

After getting about 3 hours of sleep, we waited in line for the train "bathrooms" to freshen up. Imagine squatting to pee in a hole on a moving train. Imagine doing this over a hole that a whole lot of people have also used on this moving train. Yeah. Bu hao.

Splashing a bit of cold water on our faces & brushing our teeth in the small metal sinks was about all we could do to wake up. Before setting out on out Xi'an tour, we made sure we booked our ticket to Pingyao for later that night-- SOFT sleepers this time.

----

Train ride number two--bound to Pingyao--was bound to be better. We had soft sleepers with top bunks and high hopes that the remaining two passengers would not be snoring lao tous. On top of that, we were absolutely exhausted from our lack of sleep and long day. We thought we could sleep through anything.

One chamber mate was already there when we arrived-- an interesting older Chinese woman who was very interested in us. Not to be stereotypical, but she was a typical nosey lao tai tai (old lady) who wanted to know all about me and all about Sho... from everything from family details to our salaries. Sho kindly answered as many questions as she felt comfortable answering. As we got ready for bed, we again kept our fingers crossed that no one else would join our chamber. This time, our finger crossing worked. As we pulled out of the station with just the three of us in the room, Sho explained to the woman how glad we were to not be sharing with any lao tous, due to the night before. The woman laughed and said, "Oh I snore, too!" Of course she did.

And, of course, at the next major stop, a lao tou joined our chamber. However, the gods smiled upon us and neither of our chamber mates snored... too loudly. We managed a good 6 hours of sleep.

----

After two relaxing days in the quaint town of Pingyao (I think Sho calculated that we slept for about 20 hours of our time there) we were ready for the last train ride of the trip. We were lucky enough to score two limited tickets direct from Pingyao to Beijing. Unluckily, they were hard sleeper tickets.

The train was smaller and older than the last two. It was crowded and hot. We located our beds. We realized that although we were in row 8 and row 9, our bunks weren't actually facing each other, but were in neighboring chambers. We didn't want to be in a situation where we couldn't see each other or talk, so Sho decided to ask someone if they were willing to switch. As I watched her ask a young Chinese guy, I could tell he was hesitant. The bed Sho was assigned to had 3 people sitting on it at the moment-- they apparently didn't care it didn't belong to them. Two beds above, a young girl was chain smoking, despite the complete lack of ventilation. In short: this chamber was not desirable. However, Sho was able to work her magic and I watched the guy change tickets with her. I gave him a big smile and said xiexie ni, and he returned with a gracious mei wenti.

After we got settled in our beds, I asked her what she had said to get him to switch. "I told him that this was your first train ride and you are in a strange country and you are afraid to sleep alone," she smiled.

"Thanks! Did you also tell him I wet the bed??" No wonder his "mei wenti" sounded so heartfelt. [Oh well. I knew I'd never see these people again and it's true that I would have rather not slept "alone."]

The poor soul who traded to beds for the scaredy laowai had to sit in the aisle, his eyes nearly shutting with exhaustion, as an obnoxious couple continued to chill and chat away on his bed. The rude randoms finally got up... and came to our room. Even after lights out they continued to talk away. They finally passed out and we were able to get some sleep.

Around 5 am, the couple woke up and started to talk again.

"Shh!" Sho hissed at them.

They were undeterred.

"SHHH!" She hissed louder. I giggled at the ferocity of her hushing.

Still, they talked.

Pissed, Sho spouted off something in Chinese. I was hoping she was telling them to shut the hell up. Whatever it was, they got quiet.

About 30 seconds later, the silence was broken: bvwwwrrrppp!

I guess the man decided if he couldn't make noise with his mouth, he'd make noise with his bowels. He kindly repeated this action at set intervals until we arrived in Beijing. I would have rather listened to his mouth.

----

For those of you who haven't been trained in Chinese trains, I hope my experiences don't deter you. I don't by any means recommend NOT taking the train, but I do recommend paying extra for soft sleepers, whenever possible. I will also recommend that you don't do back to back nights on trains-- it is always good to shower, rest, and refresh in a hotel before getting back on a sleeper train.

I must say, if nothing else, taking the train adds adventure to Chinese travel. And adventure, like pizza, is always good... even when it is bad.

My Chinese Life

11.16.2008

A little glimpse of the day-to-day Chinese life I have now grown quite accustomed to...





This is where I live:

The building wasn't always pink and white. But one day it just was. So pink. And so white. So, so pink.


























This is where I work:

I work on the 11th floor. The elevators in my building are never available and when they are they are always crammed with a million people. I usually take the stairs. My co-workers think I'm crazy.


Speaking of the elevator, there is a small room in front of the elevator.
For some reason, someone decided that this room in front of the elevator
needed a sign to indicate to people that this was, indeed, the room in front of the elevator:

This is how I get to work every day:



Yup, that's her. The sweet blue one on the end. I paid 150 kuai ($21) for that baby. It's only about 5 months old... and it's about at the end of its sweet little bike life.











This is what I eat on the days I work, which is a company provided lunch:





On this day I had a little fruit, some spicy noodles, some eggplant, some rice, some green beans, some mystery veggies, some tofu with a mystery sauce...

[This lunch was one of the better days. I usually have no idea what I'm eating.]





This is where I go to grab something to eat if I am tired of the company lunch:

7-11! It is on the other side of my work building and it is more or less like one you'd find in America, but they have a lot more 'fresh' food choices. But don't worry, they also have 5 day old hot dogs complete with random hairs and used band-aids, just like in the States.

This is my coffee cup that I drink out of:

The cup was taken from my last employer, ABC school. [I added a bit to the design myself ;o) ]






















Most days in China I learn a valuable lesson from the Chinese people:





The lesson of this day was, "If a light switch isn't working right, the WRONG solution is to stick a piece of paper in it."










The locals here tend to always try for the cheapest, quickest fix the first time. Luckily they always learn from their mistakes and opt for the correct solution in the end:

Much better.

At the end of the day, it is always nice to have a nice warm cup of tea:

This is a very special tea. [Get it? Special-tea?]








Only special people like me drink
this very special Chinese tea:



















And, just like my mother, I love to have a little bit of chocolate every day. While I drink my special tea, I like to munch on a few of these:



Mmmm...nothing like a small, brown, cylindrical, crispy chocolate Collon to snack on before bed.

Hao chi! (Delicious!)











And finally, at the end of my long Chinese day, I snuggle into bed next to this guy:

Wan an! (Goodnight!)

-T

Voting-- It's everywhere you want to be

11.03.2008

Cab ride to Democrats Abroad meeting to request an absentee ballot:

30 RMB ($4)

Postage to mail absentee request:

10 RMB ($1.50)

Printing out emergency ballot when absentee ballot doesn't show:

2 RMB ($0.30)

Faxing emergency ballot to an overseas number:

52 RMB ($7.50)

Being able to vote in historical federal and state elections from China: PRICELESS

For the Record

10.09.2008

Being one of China's most treasured resources (a native English speaker) Collin and I are often overused and abused by people. Being well-humored, we are able to joke about it. We joke about it a little too much, maybe. I believe the amount of humor we find in our abuses has now reached masochistic levels.

You see, last Monday we did some "voice recording" work. It was, to say the least, an interesting experience. Put it this way: Collin and I can now call it even.

Last Saturday Collin casually asked me if I wanted to make some extra cash by doing some voice recording. It sounded harmless enough-- which is generally a huge red flag.

"Are we going to actively take part in our own abuse?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Alright, I'm in."

He calls me late on Saturday night to inform me that the abuse, I mean work, will take place at 9 am on Monday morning. [I love being abused before noon on my days off.]

We get a call late Sunday night saying we need to meet at 8 am instead. The beatings had begun.

Monday morning, we meet up with a Chinese woman who speaks very good British English. (Unfortunately she speaks it a little too often, especially for 8 in the morning). Together the three of us take a cab to an apartment complex not too far from our neighborhood. We go inside an apartment that has been converted into an office & recording studio, where we are greeted by no less than 8 people. Collin turns to me, "Two people actually needed to get the work done and six others to stand around and watch?"

"Yup." [I love China.]

We're handed our voice recording scripts, which turns out to be English teaching material[surprise] for primary school children. We scan through the pages --about 10 in all-- and it looks simple enough. Let's get 'er done!

We are led into a recording room with fancy mics and soundproof material on the walls. The door shuts behind us, and we're told (via speaker from those in the neighboring room) we can begin when ready.

We start reading.

We're stopped.

"Um, could you maybe use a little emotion? You sound very boring. Like maybe you are sleeping." [Maybe?].

I dig deep down and pull out my "Oral Language Voice" that hasn't been used since '95 and begin again. Things are rolling along quite smoothly, until a word pops up that triggers my giggle reflex. The word was "nude." [I understand that I am nearly 25 years old, but seriously, why are they teaching 6 year olds the word nude?]. Collin rolls his eyes at me and tells me to get it together. We continue on.

The next page has the word: "delicious." This isn't a funny word, to MOST people. However, this is a highly loaded word in my family-- it is part of a never ending inside joke we invoke constantly. I giggle again. Collin joins me this time, but reprimands me for being "the worst person he could possibly be doing this with. Well, except for Erin."

The script moves from being simple words and phrases into dialogues. Very cheesy dialogues. Despite being a "Kitty" that is talking to Collin, the "Puppy" I manage to keep a straight face through these.

We get on a roll and are dishing out the dialogues, back and forth, back and forth. Then, in a dialogue between "Rabbit" and "Frog," a 3rd character was introduced: "Monkey." Collin and I exchange confused glances, but I read the part of Monkey anyway. At the end of the dialogue, the voice from the speakers cut in:

"Collin and Traylee? Yes, um, there is a 3rd character in this dialogue, see, so Traylee could you read Monkey in a different voice from Rabbit?"

I whisper over to Collin, "Different voice? I only have one voice."

"Um, sure.. okay, I'll try," I tell the speaker. Different voice... different voice.. a monkey voice? What does a monkey voice sound like? I don't do voices!

I tried. Really, I did. But I sounded so stupid. I couldn't get through a single sentence without erupting into laughter.

The speaker voice came on, "Maybe we should take a break?"

After a quick break & some mental prep, I knocked out the Monkey voice and we moved on.

The dialogues became more and more complicated; Collin and I would have to hold conversations between Pig, Rabbit, Dog, Monkey, and Frog in one dialogue. [Multi-logue?]. It was hard to keep all the voices straight as we read ("Was Pig my high voice or my low voice?") but it was harder to keep from laughing at how dumb we sounded.

Reading through all of the material basically blindly, we had little to no warning when an extra cheesy or funny word was approaching. However, as we neared the end of the script, a word a few lines ahead was glaring at me. There was no way in this world that I would be able to say (or hear Collin say) this word without completely losing it. The word, innocent to those who are not versed in American slang, was a synonym for 'rooster.' This is not a word I generally like to say out loud. Or while being recorded. Or while being recorded and sitting next to my older brother. Awesome.

The seemingly innocent script of conversations occurring between farm animals was dripping with sexual innuendos, causing my face & chin to be dripping with tears & drool as we laughed uncontrollably. The Chinese people in the next room must have thought we'd absolutely lost our minds. We weren't just being immature or unprofessional. This was bad.

Let me give you a sample of what we had to say, but I will use the more proper term, "rooster."

Pig (Collin): Hi, Mrs. Duck!
Duck (Tracy): Hi, Mr. Pig!
Pig: How are you?
Duck: I'm tired. Mr. Rooster wakes me up at 5 am every morning!
Pig: Oh, that's too bad!
Duck: I don't like Mr. Rooster. Can you help me?
Pig: No problem!

The several botched attempts at getting though that dialogue was easily the hardest I have ever laughed in my adult life. The speaker voice cut in again "suggesting" another break.

We graciously accepted. As I went to the bathroom, I could hear Collin awkwardly explaining in the hallway: "You see, um, the word you're using for rooster is actually a, um, bad slang word in American English. That's why we are having such a hard time saying it."

"Oh, no, should we change it?"

"No, no. It's okay. We get what you mean. It is just kinda difficult to say sometimes without laughing."

Collin and I go back into the room, vowing to knock the rest of the script out so we can get our money and go. Grateful that it wasn't me saying "rooster" this time, Collin got to try his own luck with the lovely word:

"Duck, duck, duck,
Rooster, rooster, rooster
Duck in front,
Rooster in back!"

I buried my face in my hands and dared not make eye contact with him. He laughed anyway.

There was only one page left-- we were nearly out of the woods. And the barn.

But not without one more humiliating line for me:

"I'm a rooster!"

The speakers came on: everyone in the other room was laughing. Still not knowing quite what was so bad about the 'rooster' synonym, they at at least understood that me declaring I was one, was pretty damn funny.

Mentally exhausted, we finally neared the end of the last page. Collin was in a zone as he read the final titles to each section:
"Let's Chant"
"Let's Sing"
"Happy Reading"
"Happy Spelling"
"Let's Chant"
"Let's Sing"
"Happy Ending"
"Happy Spell--" An explosion of laughter from my side of the table interrupted him again.

"What? What's your problem now?" he demanded.

"Happy ENDing? You just said Happy ENDing instead of Happy Reading!! God, you better hope the people in the next room don't know what that means."

The look on his face was priceless--he had NO idea that had slipped out.

I couldn't have asked for a more 'Happy Ending.'

Wo hen baoqian (I'm very sorry)

10.07.2008

I am truly sorry for getting so behind on the blog, especially when so many amazing, funny, and 'bloggable' things have been happening lately. I suppose this is a sort of Catch-22... the busier we are and the more fun we are having, means less time to sit in front of a computer to blog about the adventures. Collin is currently away on a trip with his friend Tash in another province; I just returned from 3 trips to 3 different cities. Meanwhile, I hosted my lovely friend Jenn for about 10 days and am now hosting my wonderful friend Liz for the next 10 days. Collin and Tash return to Beijing on Thursday, which means a full house this weekend as well as good times. I've been keeping notes (literally & mentally) of all the things I can't wait to share with you all, so stay posted!

And Breathe Out...

8.25.2008

A collective, massive exhalation occurred last night as the Olympic Torch was extinguished here in Beijing. Some were breathing sighs of sadness, others were sighing with relief. Whichever the case, not a single individual in the Capital last night didn't feel a sudden emptiness. The Games are over.

We've only been on hand to see the preparation for the last 6 months-- but this country and these people have been setting up for this two week event for eight years. Can you imagine preparing for anything for 8 years? [Okay, MD's and Ph.D's aside]. How do you feel when something that grand, that important, that huge is now over? Even after just 6 months of hype, I can honestly say I woke up today feeling a large void. I can't imagine what others must feel.

Collin and I have only known pre-Olympic Beijing-- we've never known "normal" Beijing, if there even is such a thing. Now we will witness post-Olympic Beijing, and can only wonder if it will seem "normal" to the locals. Is a city ever the same after hosting a world event of such a massive scale? I'm sure most past host cities are the same eventually; in fact, it is hard to even think back to who hosted the previous Games more than a few Games ago. But I feel as though here it is different. Here-- the country, the government, the people-- they all wanted to show the world something. They all wanted these Games to be more than just fun and games, they wanted to prove something. Did they succeed? What does the world think of them now?

Whatever the world is saying, the hype will surely settle within a few days and the world spotlight will shine elsewhere.

Here in Beijing, it is back to reality. Back to business as usual. Today is truly the mundane Monday of all mundane Mondays.

Gold on the Green

8.24.2008

Saturday morning I lay in bed, drooling away on my pillow, per usual. My phone rings. I answer it before being fully conscious of what I am doing.

"Hellooo?"

"Trace. Get up. Get your stuff together."

"Wha?"

"I just got two tickets to the gold medal football match today!"

"Today? What time? Are you serious?"

"Yes. Noon."

“What time is it now?”

“10:30. Can you be on the subway by 11? I’ll pick you up from there.”

“Um, yeah, sure, okay.”

I jumped up, totally awake now. Gold medal? Football? Inside the Bird’s Nest?! Surely I was still asleep and dreaming.

I took a shower & got ready in Olympic record time and ran to the subway, taking a "no unauthorized persons" shortcut, putting my head down to ignore the guards who usually prevent my passing.

I arrived at my stop at 11:30; soon after I was hopping in a van with Sean Matthew, on my way to the Olympic Green.

After several botched attempts at getting me through media checkpoints with only Sean Matthew's pass, we finally arrived at the "Spectator's Entrance." The line to get in, as well as the heat at this point, was overbearing. We saw one more shot at a shortcut: the media line (or lack thereof) at the spectator's entrance. Guarded only by a young volunteer, SM once again flashed his pass and after three rushed, "She's with me, she's with me, she's with me!" he relented and let us by.

We hurriedly walked toward the looming National Stadium, more commonly known as the Bird's Nest, and scrambled to our seats. We sat down, thankful for shade and rest, and looked out: our seats were dead center of this amazing field. Luckily we hadn't missed too much, as the score was still 0-0.

I tried to soak it all in, but being in a stadium that grand, along with almost 90,000 other spectators, watching a game that would be watched around the world, is a bit much to comprehend.

The game ended, but there was still more to take in. I had the whole Olympic Green to wander about for as long as I pleased. But after taking a few pictures with me and giving me a general guide to the Green, SM had to get back to work, leaving me to explore alone. And worst of all: meiyou gege! Bu hao. (No brother. No good.)

It was only about 2:30-- 5 hours until sunset-- but I decided I would try to travel around the Green until nightfall. I knew from afar how incredible the stadiums look at night; this would be my only chance during the Games to see them lit up, close up. Maybe I could stick it out.

I walked around and took pictures of nearly every building, every statue, and every display. I walked for 4 hours straight, only taking 10 minutes to rest while eating room temperature yogurt and some Ritz crackers I had picked up at a snack stand. My feet, legs, and knees ached, and my shoulders and chest burned from too much sun, but it didn't matter, I was at a historical place at a historical time. When I finally couldn't walk any longer, I sat on a bench next to the Today Show's set.

"Tracy?"

To my surprise, my friend Megan, also alone, was approaching me. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I've been here since noon-- for the soccer game. What about you?"

"I'm gonna be a guest on the Today Show." She proceeded to tell me her story about how she was asked to be on it last week and after becoming friends with one of the anchors, she was asked back again today. Grateful for company, we sat and chatted until it was time for the show. (Unfortunately, Obama's VP announcement caused her segment to be bumped last minute, but we still enjoyed playing the part of "dorky tourists in the background" as the show aired).

Meanwhile, the sun went down, and the Green's lights came on. It was hard to stop staring at the stadiums towering overhead, and the humongous torch burning above it all.

Sixiao and her parents then stopped by the set-- Sho was getting off of work and her parents were on their way to watch the athletic finals in the Nest. Sho pointed out some of her work she's been doing for the last year and a half, "That fencing there is mine.. those ladders are mine.. all those trailers-- mine," she said with a laugh. We took a few pictures and she set off.

After the show ended, SM was off work and we met up again. I insisted on more dorky tourists shots now that the stadiums were lit and the torch was more visible.

Finally, at almost 9:30, 10 hours after arriving, I walked back to the subway. I was exhausted. My legs were throbbing and my shoulders burning, but I was carrying a huge smile and a camera and mind full of Olympic memories.

Beijing Faux Pas Police on the Prowl

8.01.2008

According to the Huffington Post:

A campaign with nearly a million volunteers was launched to give etiquette tips to Beijing locals. "Etiquette booklets" were handed out to 4 million households, which included tips such as:

• no public spitting
• wait patiently and orderly when in line
• wear no more than three color groups in your clothing
• no wearing pajamas and slippers when visiting neighbors
• white socks should never be worn with black leather shoes-- and dark-colored socks are recommended overall
• no public displays of affection [like anyone here does that anyway]
• feet should be slightly apart or in the shape of a V or Y when standing
• handshakes should not last more than three seconds
• don't ask foreigners their age, marital status, income, past experience, address, personal life, religious beliefs or political beliefs [then what will you talk about? Ohh, right… the Olympics!]

I hope everyone gets their act together soon-- Collin and I noticed 6 violations alone when walking down our street today. I wonder if they'll be issuing actual citations for these etiquette & fashion faux pas? Here I was worried about my registration... now I have to go buy a pack of black dress socks and put some "real" clothes on if I want to go shoot the breeze with my neighbors. The handshake thing is actually good advice though-- I always count to 3 in my head when shaking someone's hand and then jerk it away as soon as I hit that third tick. Shaking for 4 seconds is just creepy.

www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/07/31/beijing-issues-style-guid_n_116041.html

Chinglish Part 3

Seen on shirts:

"Overtime One of the World"

"Free Keeps us Living Live"

"Flash Memory"

"Sunrise" on a pink shirt, worn by a male-- with a picture of an ape. [Spotted twice in one day in different parts of the city.]

"Curly Sue: how many flappermades?" [flappermades??]

"Happy Baby" -- worn by a very old lady

Grey shirt, blank on front, but this amazing text in silver on the back: "Nobody Seems to Understand the Nature of Project SHINY." [Could not have said it better myself.]

"Free to Move"

Pink sequins on black: "STOP and THINK"



Song titles as seen on a KTV (karaoke) menu:

"Standing Sex "

"Fluffy"

"Porno Graffiti"

"Lushy"


Seen on signs:

"Beauty Face Hair" - hair salon sign

"Forsaken Items" - bin in Walmart for unwanted goods

"Love yourself and love the woods" - sign in a park

Nice Day for a Red Wedding

7.22.2008

For the better part of last week Tracy conveniently reminded me that she was invited to a traditional Chinese wedding by her language exchange partner on Saturday. By Thursday I had realized that her "reminders" were subtle "can you please be my date because I feel obligated and I desperately don't want to go solo" requests. I in turn made very subtle agreements to go, mostly because if the situation was reversed I would ask the same of her, but also because I was pretty curious to see a Chinese wedding. By Friday morning I inquired additional information about this gathering and learned that the wedding STARTED at 10:58AM. No, that is not a typo, 10:58 is the official starting time. In China people are very superstitious, especially when it comes to numbers. I don't quite have a grasp on how much they truly buy into these silly beliefs, or if it is simply tradition. The Olympics begin on 08/08/08, at 8:08pm, and that is not a coincidence: eight is the mother of all lucky numbers here. So 10:58? "OK, where is the wedding?"

"I guess it takes about an hour and a half to get there, it is just outside of Beijing" Tracy replies.

"Ummmmmm..." Now I realize that I have to wake up early on my precious day off. I ask Tracy for a confirmation, "Did I ever actually TELL you I was going?"

"YES!!" she proclaimed.

"OK. I hate you."

Knowing I had to be up early, I still stayed out very late exploring the hutong of Beijing with friends because I'm, well, me. After a hardy five hours' sleep I woke up cursing Tracy. We hurriedly threw ourselves together for the wedding (what do you wear anyways?), hopped on our bikes, and headed to the subway. We took the subway further north than I had ever been, which was quite eye opening for me: wow, Beijing is really, really big, and even out here, there are still a million people in every direction. After reaching our stop, our directions told us to take a bus. Yeah right, which bus? Which direction? We're running late. Let's catch a cab, it can't be that far from here. No cabs. Awesome. We reluctantly opted to take a "black" cab, which are essentially just old guys who are sitting idly at such locations hoping to profit off of poor saps like ourselves. We are particularly perfect victims for these characters, as we're foreign, naive, and don't speak the language. We point to out our destination written in Chinese characters to the driver, he seems to recognize it and says "Zou ba." (Let's go). We ask "Duo shao qian?" (How much money?) "San shi kuai," (30 yuan) he replies. We agree.

So here we are, deep in the outskirts of Beijing, in this strange man's unmarked "taxi," no air conditioning, stifling hot, stuck in traffic, with the future of our existence on planet Earth in this man's hands. Might sound a bit nerve-racking to the novice, but this is life in China-- doesn't even phase us. We finally break out of traffic and hit the highway. It is quite rural and pleasantly green. With faster speeds comes natural cooling, our moods are up as we curiously stare at our surroundings.

After a solid 15 minutes on the highway, he suddenly pulls off... and starts asking random people on bicycles for assistance to find our desired location. Great. He has no idea where he is going. Not understanding most of the language, Tracy and I have the pleasure of predicting our immediate fate through body language, facial expressions, gestures, and the few Chinese words we know. The shaking of the head is a universal "no." Combine this gesture with "bu ji dao" (don't know), and we become more unsettled with every attempt our driver makes to find our way. After more wrong turns and more questions asked, it seems like we're finally heading in the right direction. We are on small rural roads without many signs of civilization. Where is this freakin' wedding? Who gets married out here? I'm hot, hungry, and grumpy. Seriously, why am I in this car, in this field, in the back of this seat right now? How did 26 years of a life lived lead up to this very moment? Tracy, I hate you.

We finally find a road that the driver recognizes and drive into a large resort of sorts with a very large restaurant/special event center that is essentially a over-sized tin barn with some classically Chinese cheesy decor inside. We enter at 11:30ish-- well past ten fifty-EIGHT. Upon entering, Tracy and I simultaneously realize something via the look on the fuwuyuan's (waitress/service person) face: omg, we are going to be the only foreigners at this extremely large wedding. By now T and I are very used to standing out amongst a crowd of black-topped heads and dark eyes, but the dynamic would be very different here. How many foreigners have EVER been in this building? And how many foreigners ever go to traditional Chinese weddings? Making matters worse, we're late. Not only are we "those" people straggling in late to the most important day of your friend's life, we're also foreign. What should we do? What next? We tentatively approach the event area where we can see the bride and groom on a large stage, an MC of sorts having them perform random things in front of a large crowd seated at circular tables filled with food, beer, and liquor. Maybe we can sneak to some seats during a break in the procedures? Is there assigned seating? What should we do? Just then the bride spots Tracy and I and waves to us, giving us a "come in and sit motion" which causes a scene as all eyes were on her. 200 Chinese people simultaneously look our way, realize that we aren't Chinese, and stare curiously at us as the bride's sister escorts us to our presumably assigned seats. We're sat next to the bride's twin sisters, who speak some broken English to us. All eyes are still on us when they are supposed to be on the bride and groom. Awkward.

The rest of the ceremony was interesting. We were practically force-fed large amounts of food and pijio (beer), the Chinese people at our table (and some from other tables) who could speak English curiously struck up conversation with us, we were asked (forced) to take tons of photos with people we didn't know, I flirted with a fuwuyuan or two, and Tracy and I assumed our usual roles as people of great interest. All was good-- until we met "that guy."

We all know "that guy" at the wedding. You know: the drunkard. Now we weren't particularly surprised to meet "that guy" because everyone inevitably has to meet "that guy" at every wedding. What made "that guy" particularly memorable was the fact that he was American. Yup, that's right: "that guy" was also "foreigner number three." As we met, I felt a bit of tension between T and I and him. You see, our existence at this gathering was mutually threatening. There is no way T and I are going to let some other dude steal our thunder. We are The Foreigners here, thank-you-very-much. It is one thing to have your thunder stolen, it's another to have it stolen by "that guy." Come to find out, "that guy" is from San Diego and both him and Tracy are UCSD alumni. Even in a city of 17 million, the world still seems small. Through drunken slurs we unfortunately learned a bit more about this guy's past, and even more unfortunately were constantly reminded of "how drunk he is" and "how the Chinese men made him drink the baijio (liquor)." From here we learned additional fascinating insights such as "English teachers get ripped off in China," "you should learn Mandarin if you live here," "there is a lot of money to be made in China, especially if you are a Westerner," "if you need a good job I can totally hook you up" (goes for business card, doesn't have one), and finally, the kicker: "I'm friends with Jackie Chan." Drunk Chinese men fight for our respective foreign statuses to get us in their individual and group shots. Here I am, extremely tired, in the middle of nowhere, smiling, posing, and throwing up peace-signs with a bunch of random Chinese people drunk on pijio, baijio, and love. Welcome to China.

When the photo requests began dying down and the crowds started to thin, T and I let the bride know that we wanted to head home. She graciously arranges a ride for us, a ride that is to take us all the way home into the city! Awesome. Finally caught a break... right? Nope, this is China. We quickly learn that one of our co-passengers for this journey is.........drum roll please: yup, you guessed it, "that guy." Just when things couldn't get any worse, we realize that in addition to that guy, our ride-home party has now recruited "that girl." Now this was the first time I've seen a Chinese "that girl," but for the most part, she was tame. As you could easily guess, "that guy" thought that "that girl" was attractive, and as we climbed into the back seat of the tiny vehicle, "that guy" thought it was necessary to let T and I know that he had every intention of taking "that girl" home. As the door slammed, locking T and I into the backseat with "TG and TGr," if you could be inside my head at this very moment you would hear "take me to a happy place, take me to a happy place" on repeat.

The backseat dialog was unfathomably less articulate than previous conversations. Aside from literally repeating everything he told us at the wedding a short half hour ago, "TG" went on to elaborate on how his friends know Jackie Chan and how important it is to learn Chinese if you live here. He then goes on to display his impeccable Mandarin skills by flirting with "TGr" in the front seat. She acts not interested; I want to die. However, we're well on our way home and we can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. "TG" has successfully bummed and lit a cigarette (quite the feat) and we're temporarily relieved of his drunken rants. Just then, "TGr" motions and yells for the driver to pull over. She hops out and proudly re-displays all the fine wedding cuisine and liquor for all of 5th Ring Road to see. After involuntarily puking, she continues on by sticking her finger down her throat. "TG" rushes out to comfort her; she wants nothing to do with him. While she continues to projectile, "TG" and the driver hover around her for support. Meanwhile, I grab Tracy's camera and start taking photos of the scene-- at this point, I might as well have fun with the situation. After a nice zoomed shot of "TGr" puking, Tracy reminds me that I'm going to hell.

Ten minutes pass and it is now obvious that "TGr" is so sick that she is REFUSING to jump back into the car. I tell Tracy: "OK, I'm hailing a cab and if we get one, you're paying for the entire fare home." Without daring to disagree Tracy concurs. Luckily it takes only a few minutes for me to flag one down (we're on the highway still so there aren't many cabbies), we wave goodbye to our comrades, say insincere "nice to meet you's" to "TG" and we're off. We debrief in the back of the taxi and try to pick up the pieces. I remind Tracy of how much I hate her and that she is eternally in debt to me. Within minutes I've fallen asleep with my head against the back window. I awaken to see we are in our neighborhood and am a bit dehydrated and disoriented. Tracy pays the cab fare (50 yuan) and -- after all we've been through -- informs me that she "snapped some great shots" of me sleeping in the cab. Awww, yes, that's what siblings are for.

Another day, another yuan. Welcome to China.

-C

Lazy Days of Summer

7.21.2008

And I mean lazy. Unemployed lazy.

I have been unemployed now for almost 2 weeks. I don't like to refer to this time as unemployment, however, I consider it taking a short break. Or a vacation. And oh how glorious it has been. Here's a quick log as to what a person in Beijing does, when they have nothing to do.

Day 1: Thursday. Rode my bike over to Wudaokou, the University district. Went to my favorite cafe, The Bridge, which serves real coffee and Western food and has free wifi. I sipped on a blended mocha, snacked on a fruit salad, and surfed the net. Awesome. Later that night, I was invited by my friend Jenea (a fellow ex-ABC teacher) to dinner with former students. We were treated to (our students never let us pay) Sichuan food. I tried pig's feet. Not recommended.

Day 2: Friday. Slept in. Amazing. Went out with Jenea for day one of her birthday weekend. We dined at a fantastic Spanish restaurant with live Spanish music. Then we met up with Collin to meet all of his new Wall Street folk. Stayed out as late as we wanted because we had nothing to do the next day. Wonderful.

Day 3: Saturday. Went for a doctor's check-up. First time I had time to do so in Beijing. Met up with Jenea for birthday night number two. Ate amazing Thai food and went dancing till the sun came up. Literally. And we could, because, well, we had no obligations the next day. Incredible.

Day 4: Sunday. Slept for a few hours. Met up with Sean Matthew for our first weekend day off together. He wanted to get some clothes, so I took him to Wafujing. He bought a few things, including a shirt for me :o) Weather was perfect. As the sun was going down, we sat on a rooftop patio while drinking freshly made margaritas. Perfect.

Day 5: Monday. It was raining outside. I did nothing. Absolutely nothing all day. It was everything I dreamed of. Toward the evening, I headed over to Sean Matthew's hood, or what I call "America-Land," a place I have been going quite frequently. Its real name is the "Lido Area," but it is full of foreigners, Western restaurants and bars, as well as lots of international cuisine, it is quite pricey (by Chinese standards), and it looks just like America. I was meeting with Sean Matthew and his coworker for a few drinks at Frank's Place for happy hour, which turned into many happy hours. When we finally decided to head back it was pouring out. Sean Matthew did something very gentlemanly: he took off his shirt and gave it to me for cover from the rain, and started to walk back in just his undershirt. My pleasant thoughts about this chivalrous gesture were abruptly interrupted by a cold splash of water-- Sean Matthew had just jumped in a huge puddle directly in front of me. I was shocked. "NOT COOL!!" I yelled, but couldn't help but laugh. The 5 minute walk back to the Lido turned into a 30 minute puddle fight, one which I largely lost. I was at the mercy of Sean Matthew and Greg, who thought it hilarious to hold me still while the other jumped in the largest, nastiest puddle they could find; my only defense to frantically kick water back at them. We came back drenched and muddy, but my mouth and stomach ached from laughing. I felt like a 5 year old again. Fantastic.

Day 6: Tuesday. I did something productive, finally. I went to a job interview. It is for a 6 week summer camp and pays pretty good money. It doesn't start until September, giving me time to roam around China and host Natalia's visit in August worry free. And it is Monday-Friday, weekends off. Sounds too good to be true. Kinda is. It's in the outskirts of the city, about an hour and half commute, so the teachers stay in a hotel during the week. I will be isolated from M-F and faced with the 1.5 hour commute every Friday and Sunday night. They said, "Free accommodations!" I said, "But I have an apartment!" It does include meals, though. I am still considering this offer. After the interview, it was off on my bike to enjoy yet another perfect day in Wudaokou. I found a new cafe with a rooftop patio. Very enjoyable. Later that night, Collin and I went for a night bike ride around the 'hood. Marvelous.

Day 7: Wednesday. Collin's day off. We spent most of the day at our favorite place: Wal-Mart! That evening we met up with Mr. Li, one of my former students. He took us to a nice Korean restaurant. Of course, his treat. He is a very sweet man who dearly loves speaking English and drinking pijio. We left the restaurant very late and very full. Good times.

Day 8: Thursday. I planned to make cookies using my mother's recipe. Sean Matthew has an oven, a rarity in Beijing, but he lives in America-Land. However, I accidentally slept in until almost 2:00p, leaving no time for baking. I did manage to meet up with my first private client that evening, a business man from Korea. He (conveniently) lives in the Lido Area. [I guess I'm not technically unemployed anymore?] Then I had dinner with SM at "Pure Lotus" a restaurant I'd been dying to check out-- it's a vegetarian restaurant and with very fascinating decor and presentation. Overall, I was quite pleased.

Day 9. Friday. The start of another fun-filled, crazy weekend. This one was insane. Friday afternoon, Collin and I met up with a few friends to go to an Olympic Garden we read about online. After driving around for 30 minutes and asking every person in sight, we decided it was inaccessible to the public. We settled for pictures in front of the stadium and went for burgers at Lush-- best burgers in town. Friday night I planned to take it easy. Met up with Sho and friends at a cool bar near the Drum Tower. We got antsy, though, and headed for a sports bar. From there, we (inevitably) ended up in Sunlitun, a popular weekend spot for foreigners. So much for taking it easy!

Day 10. Saturday. Saturday morning I made Collin attend a Chinese wedding with me-- my language exchange partner was getting married. This event must have an entry of its own. By far the craziest day of my life. Collin claims he will never forgive me. Yet somehow after all the mayhem (and a botched attempt at taking a nap), I went out to meet up with SM, Sho and a bunch of others on the NBC crew in... you guessed it: Sunlitun. I don't know how I was even alive at that point, but I lasted through the night.

Day 11. Sunday. Took it easy, did some shopping, went to bed early.

Day 12: Today. Monday. I have spent the day searching for jobs, desperately wanting to avoid working weekends, and wish I could be through with teaching entirely. I may have an editing interview soon. I certainly hope so. The weather has been drier, cooler, and clearer. I swear the government can control the weather here. Their power is mind boggling. I'm meeting with my private student again in a few hours and then I will finally bake cookies! I guess these summer days aren't that lazy =]

-T

To leave, or not to leave...

7.13.2008

I just realized today that Tracy and I are fast approaching our five-month mark. They say time flies when you are having fun, but I'm going to argue that time is hardly a distinguishable unit of measure while living in China. Wow, five-months, almost a half-year.

I've reached a pivotal point in this China adventure: I'm finally legit and my first day at Wall Street is tomorrow. Like anytime one starts a new job, I'm both excited and nervous. Although I have a really good feeling about the opportunity, only time will tell how well I will fit into this company. After everything I've (we've) endured to secure this new position, I feel my experience at Wall St. will have a profound influence on my future in China.

-How much longer should I/do I want to....stay?
-How much longer can I bear the pollution and over-population?
-When the bad really does outweigh the good, will I be capable of admitting this truth to myself?
-Wait, what I am I really doing here?
-If I return to the States now, what am I actually going to do?

The latter question is honestly the 'big one,' as I don't really know what I want to do when I come back. Tracy and I recently met a really cool group of New Yorker expats at a dance-club, with the usual dialog: "hey, where you from?" "what are you doing in this crazy place?" "how long you been here" "how long you gunna stay?" I particularly liked Tracy's witty response to the NY's question: "What are you two doing in Beijing?" "We're running away from grad-school!" When we reciprocated the question, the young NYer responds, "I'm studying Chinese." "ohhh, cool," I mentally respond, "you're actually accomplishing things here, what's that like?" Of course, this is not to deny that I'm gaining important life-lessons and unforgettable cultural exchange, but, you know...

Over the past 6 years I've lived in Bakersfield, San Francisco, Portland, and Beijing. I don't really have a place that I call "home." When I return to Bako for holiday visits, I don't feel attached to the place at all. On the contrary, the Bush bumper-stickers, suburban sprawl, Taco Bells, SUV's and strip malls make me cringe. The City by the Bay? Along with Tony Bennett's, my heart still resides in San Francisco. But I had a great stint there, made life-long relationships, and can always go back (when I'm pulling in 1.5 million USD annually). I left Portland right about the time I was finally feeling settled there. When I think of "home" my emotions gravitate towards P-town, mostly because my mother lives there and it is the last place I left. So what next?

I'd be lying to myself and everyone that knows me if I said I didn't have a particular female in my life that is pulling me Westward. I'll confirm the truth of the old cliche: absence makes the heart grow fonder -- oh how I miss her so. Until now I've never experienced the feelings of almost complete isolation. Unless you've lived an extended amount of time w/o the luxury of picking up your phone and calling your loved-ones, you could never understand how much that messes with your emotions. Just 15 years ago, expats living abroad didn't even have the internet as means for staying in contact with friends and family. I couldn't imagine that.

Back to Portland, get a part-time job, do some volunteer work in the psychological field, and start applying to graduate schools?? Hmmm. Fun. Sounds so, like, grown up. Then what? A career? Shudder.

I'm well aware that having a house, a wife, and a decent career doesn't mean that your life is over. In fact, a steady income could provide for more traveling opportunities. But I do have a perpetual fear of conformity, establishment, and the cookie-cutter lifestyle. I'm learning a lot more about myself during this adventure, but it seems that the more I learn, the more perplexed I become about the future.

The roller-coaster ride that is China coincides with my internal perspectives of life, here, on planet Earth, in the 21st century. I live desperately and dangerously inside my own mind, an atmosphere full of outrage at myself and fellow homo sapiens for the decisions we are making and the state of the world. At times I see our species as nothing more than consumers, spending our dreadful lives acquiring income to rush out and spend it on pointless items that are happily displayed on an end-cap on the third-floor, isle-3, of WalMart. Like androids we all push our carts, trying to avoid eye contact with each other, trying to gather the goods we "need" and go about our day. You drive home in your cushy air-conditioned mid-sized SUV, unpack your goods, with two-thirds of all items purchased finding its way to a landfill near you. Ahhh, modern-day hunter and gathers.

Meanwhile I meet people who, despite their impoverished conditions, unthinkable hardships, and foreseeable permanence in this life and country, with a huge smile on their face, yelling "Hellllo" to me, and offering me beer, food, and cigarettes. I have educated, middle/upper-class students who are well aware of their place in the international community, and share similar dissatisfactions about the Chinese gov't, overpopulation, and depressing pollution, but seem to be endlessly optimistic despite the reality that it is here they will live, here they must stay. I have young children students who adore me and jump on me when I arrive for the lesson, and can't for the life of them pronounce my name correctly, always referring back to "tee-cha." Their parents pay me top-dollar in hopes that they can give their only allowed child more opportunity in this unfathomably competitive country.

It is so much easier for Tracy and I to complain about the ugly side of China because we can simply pack-up and leave whenever we want. Ultimately, in this mind I live in, I'm constantly reaching out to grasp the profound human spirits I experience here, in hopes I can use it to combat my growing pessimism and disdain towards the ways of this world.

Tracy, some friends, and I share a taxi home after a late night of well deserved dancing and we pass "The Nest" Olympic Stadium on Fourth Ring Road. It is massive, illuminated, iconic, and awe inspiring. We sit in silence, heads simultaneously moving backwards as our eyes are fixated on the architectural marvel. The whole world's entire gaze is on this very area, and here we are, living and breathing it.

I don't think it is quite time to come home yet.

-c

Cash Flow or Po-Po?

7.07.2008

So as some of you know, or don't know, we've been kinda, sorta hiding from the Chinese Po-Po.

Due to tight security leading up to the Olympics, many foreigners are having trouble with keeping their visas secured and their residences registered, present company included. Our lovely landlord jumped on the "I Wanna Profit From the Olympics" Bandwagon and decided to up our rent, despite the already signed contract which is good until December. We argued with the landlord about this. Not directly, of course, because nothing in this country is direct, and we don't speak the language. To argue "with" our landlord, we called Sho who called her uncle who called the rental agency who called the landlord. With a chain this complicated, this has dragged on for a long while. Meanwhile, our temporary residence registration has expired. Normally we could lay low until this has been taken care of, but with our ex-company desperately seeking revenge on Collin for quitting, the police have been hot on our trail.

We sought refuge in the homes of friends for awhile, but with the end to all of this seemingly near and no actual sign of the police yet, we decided we'd move back home and live quietly. If the doorbell rang, we simply wouldn't answer. There are no windows in the front of our place and no way to tell if we are home or not. Only about 3 people know where we live, so it would be easy to tell if we had a valid visitor or not. Usually. Enter the twist.

A few weeks ago I got a random assignment to proofread a document for a company I interviewed with. It took me about 30 minutes and they promised to pay me 250 RMB (~$35 ) for my time. Not too shabby. I was a bit skeptical I would actually receive this money, but if I didn't I only lost 30 minutes of my life. I took the risk. I was told an express mail service would deliver the cash to my address. I didn't know if this meant to my door or my mailbox. I assumed the latter, but realized in the coming days that I don't even know where our mailbox is. I figured there was 250 yuan chilling in a box somewhere that I would never get my hands on. I was given the name of the express service and a confirmation number, but again, I don't speak the language so I had no way of finding out how/when/where this money could be expected.

Last Monday night, around 9 pm, our doorbell rang. Collin and I were both home. We exchanged panicked faces. "Are you expecting anyone?" Collin asked.

"Sho is coming over, but not for awhile..." I replied.

"The police?"

"Must be."

With no windows or even a peephole in our door, we had no way to see who was out there. I quickly texted the three people who might actually stop by; all confirmed is was indeed not them at our door. We sat in silence until the doorbell stopped.

Later that night, Sho came by. As we took my building's elevator down, our elevator lady asked her something. When we exited, she translated: "She asked me if you guys are registered because the cops came by looking for you."

Yikes. Good thing we didn't answer.

Wednesday night. 8:55 PM. I receive a text message from Collin: "Doorbell was ringing again just now. Be careful when you come home."

I hung out a little while longer at work before carefully returning to my apartment. When I came in, we discussed our stressful situation. "Maybe it's the delivery guy with my money?" I offer optimistically.

"At 9 o'clock at night? Doubtful. But I dunno. This is China."

So it came down to this: the person ringing the doorbell was either the po-po or my cash flow, but without a peephole, I'd never know.

Go ahead and open Door #1! It's either 250 RMB or a quick trip to the police station! Hmm, I'm going to go ahead with the option behind Door #2: losing 30 minutes of my life.

Saturday night. 11:05 PM. Collin and I are about to leave to go to a house party. We are seconds from taking off-- I'm standing with purse in hand. Doorbell rings. And rings. And rings. "Maybe it's my money?" I offer again. I still don't even know at this point if it will be delivered to our door or our mailbox.

"At 11 at night? No way," Collin says. He's probably right.

We lay low until 11:35, before sneaking down the stairwell and leaving the house. We really can't live like this.

Monday morning. 10:00 AM. I receive a text message from the company: "Please advise a good time for the delivery. They have tried reaching you at home several times." I forward the text to Collin, and we have a good laugh about it. We still have no idea who has been ringing our doorbell. Maybe it's been the cops half the time and the money half the time.

I gave the company a window of time today: 1 PM to 5:30 PM. I figure if the doorbell rings in that time period, I have a slightly better chance of getting cold, hard cash rather than cold, hard time.

Today. 2:10 PM. Doorbell rings. I'm wearing my "I <3 China" t-shirt. (I figure the cops might go a little easier on me if I'm wearing this attire). I slowly open the door and peer out of our gate, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I can swear the screen printed heart is moving as well. I peer out and see. . .




A young delivery boy. "Ni hao!" I want to kiss him. He hands me an envelope with my name on it. I sign a paper. I bring it in. I rip it open. There is the 250 RMB neatly clipped with a small note:

Such a simple note. If only they had any idea of the true complexity behind it. The panic, the fear, the anxiety-- and now the humor--that was involved in getting that little envelope with that little note and that little money delivered.

I'm trying to decide how to use the money now. I'm thinking of a few options: Treat Collin and I to a nice relaxing massage for anxiety relief... Get it framed and hang it above our door for comic relief...

I've got it! I'm going to install a peephole in our door.

-T

My China Television Debut

7.01.2008

Sixiao informed me tonight that the two of us appeared on Chinese television. No, it wasn't the local news-- in fact, it wasn't even filmed here. When we were seniors in college, Sho worked on a MTV production called "The U" which went around to all the major universities interviewing students about the school and their college life. Since Sho worked on it, of course she and all of her buddies [enter me] got to be on the show. Sho gave a tour of our sweet pad in SD as an example of "living off campus" and I played the part of "girl who studies at the beach." I got interviewed about the academic and social life of UCSD while lying on the sand with my textbooks. [It was actually somewhat realistic-- I really did study at the beach. Eh, a few times.]

So tonight, years later, Sho's coworker calls her up: "You're on TV!" Sho was trying to think of how and when she was shot in Beijing, but her coworker went on to explain that she is watching Sho give a tour of her old place in America. Apparently one of the stations here was showing programs about colleges abroad and showed "The U." How random is that?

Tonight was my grand China television debut... and I missed it. I don't even have a TV.
Bu hao.

-T

Moments That Make it Worth it

6.29.2008

"Hello, Teacher!" from a random adorable 4 year old Chinese girl with pigtails and dimples.


Having know idea what you are eating, but knowing it will be amazing. Prime example: The Mystery Meatballs (aka Balls of Heaven) for $0.50 on our street.


The inevitable gigantic and ridiculous bike loads seen on the walk to work:

"HELLO!!" from JOE! (the crepe boy on the corner) followed by a, "OUCH!!" because he was waving so excitedly at me that he burned his hand on his hot plate. [Followed by uncontrollable giggling by me].


"Tracy I want to thank you for helping me improve my English," from a student almost twice my age-- in perfect English.


Getting my lunch delivered to my desk at work for $2.00. It's even better when it comes with comic relief: last week I unwrapped the napkin that usually holds the chopsticks, only to find not 1, not 2, but 6 plastic drinking straws. 6? Why 6? I didn't even order a drink. I think it was a decoy so I wouldn't notice the lack of chopsticks until after I had paid and was sitting comfortably at my desk. Sneaky.


Getting a ride home from a family who cannot afford the gas nor the time to take me, but insists on it anyway.


Sweet emails from students in their adorable ESL:

Collin,

Help yourself!Because we are the friends!

Please cheer up!It will all be fine!Long time no see you.Are you better now?

Your sister is a good teacher too.We all like her very much!She is very lovable!

best wishes to you and your sister!

And, of course: Chinglish signs and Chinglish shirts!