I've Been Cupped!

4.29.2009

In my last blog about living in the Wu, I mentioned that my masseuse asked me if I wanted to get "cupped" to help my cold and cough. I would guess that most people don't know what this is exactly; it is an ancient Eastern practice. The only time I know that people in the West were talking about it was when Gwyneth Paltrow exposed a few "cupping marks" at a premiere about 8 years ago.

Sixiao had done it once shortly after she arrived in Beijing-- she sent me pictures of her back afterward and I was mortified. It looked really painful. She assured me it was useful. I remained skeptical.

When my masseuse asked me the other night, I began to say no, but then stopped to consider. My cold & cough was actually extra bothersome since I am now back in the classroom-- running a phonetic class for survival level students isn't exactly easy when everything you say comes out with a nasal tone and pausing to cough between every instruction isn't desirable, either. Curiosity also played a factor in my considering. I was curious about the process, how it would feel, and mostly if it would be at all effective. Even if it didn't work, though, I thought to myself, "Hey it's China. I'll try anything once. Why not?" With that mentality, the last but not least of my deciding factors was: "Duo shao qian?" (How much money?)

"San shi," he said. (30 RMB/$4).

"Hao de. Yao." (Good. I want it).

He left the room and came jingling back in a few minutes later pushing a cart overflowing with round glass jars, like the ones on the right.

He pulled a curtain shut and asked me to remove my shirt and lay face down. "Keyi ma?" (Alright?)

Once I was lying face down, he unsnapped my bra [Yes, this was awkward. I reprimanded myself for not thinking to do this] and rubbed some kind of oil or lotion up and down my back. After I was oiled up, I heard the click of a lighter as he prepared the first cup. I felt it leech on. I tensed up.

"Tong ma?" (Hurt?) he asked.

"Yi dian dian," (A little) I replied. He took the cup, now suctioned onto my skin, and glided it up and down, down and up. He repeated this process with 3 different cups.

During my full body massage just before this, my stuffy nose had been getting extra stuffy as I laid face down, coughing sporadically through the hole of the massage table. After the second "gliding" cup my nose was completely clear & my urge to cough had disappeared. I was amazed, but still skeptical. Could this really work?

Once the gliding portion was finished, I heard him prepare another cup and stuck it firmly on my lower back. Then another. So it went --cup, flame, suck! cup, flame, suck!-- until there were 15 glass cups sticking to my back and shoulders. Some hurt more than others as some had a tighter vacuum and some has less skin to suck onto (like on my shoulder blade). With all cups strategically in place, he lay a blanket over me and my 15 new appendages and left the room.

It is hard to describe the feeling of 15 glass jars pulling on your skin simultaneously. Okay, not hard to describe-- impossible to describe. The best way I can explain it is that it almost feels as though you have 15 glass jars pulling on your skin simultaneously.

After an intense 10 or 15 minutes, my guy came back into the room. He proceeded to remove each cup by pushing down on the skin next to the cups and sliding his finger under the rim until it came off with a pop! I was told to lay there for a few more minutes and was given hot tea to sip on. After my tea was finished, I was told I could get dressed and go home, but to make sure I didn't shower or bathe that night. (No clue why).

My back felt a little tender and I figured I'd be bruised by the next day. When I got home and looked in the mirror, though, I saw this:


Instantaneous bruises!! I couldn't believe it. Way darker than I had envisioned, too.

For the next few days, I couldn't sleep on my back or even sit back in a chair. Did it cure my cold and cough? Nope. I was left with the cold, cough, 15 bruises, and the inability to wear any tanktops in public. My friend asked me if I regretted doing it. I replied that the experience was cool, but it was the bruising that sucked! [Then I realized it was also the sucking that bruised]. While I have no regrets it is definitely something I would do once and only once!

The West Side

4.28.2009

“You live ALL the way out in Wudaokou?”

“Damn, your apartment is really far away.”

“Are you in town tonight?” [In town? WDK doesn’t count as being ‘in town’?]

Such is heard from the East Siders of Beijing all the time. I wouldn’t say there is a rivalry between the West side, where I live, and the East side of Beijing; the two sides are too different to really compare. [I do sense a slight air of snobby pride coming from the East Siders though]. There are definitely more neighborhoods and pockets that dot the East side where foreigners reside & play. If you live on the West side of the city, however, there is a 98% chance you live in Wudaokou. [Collin and I belonged to that rare 2% last year, by residing in a purely Chinese, incredibly random ‘hood].

The East side caters more to the young professional crowd, while WDK is clearly known for hosting the student population, as nearly every major university is in the area. As mentioned, there isn’t much argument as to which side is “better”—if you are a young business person, the CBD (Central Business District) would better suit you, if you are a student, WDK is obviously the place to be.

Wherever foreigners gather & live, East or West, surrounding businesses naturally cater to them. In the well known expat 'hoods, businesses like bars, cafes, a variety of Western and international restaurants, boutiques, and shopping malls flourish. With all of this also comes inflated prices, but with the East side catering more to young professionals AND tourists, prices there range from expensive to outrageous. Assuredly there are overpriced places in the Wu as well [I am sipping on a 28 RMB ($4) blended coffee right now] but even the pricier places know to give the student crowd what they want: discounts & happy hours. After living here for about a month, one memorizes which establishments offer discounted food and drinks on various days and at various times. For example, Monday evenings you can get 2 tacos for 5 RMB (75 cents) at our favorite watering hole that pretends to be a Mexican restaurant. [The tacos are small and not good at all, but who cares if you can eat dinner for $1.50?] Every Tuesday you will find my friend David and I stuffing our faces with delicious 2 for 1 sub sandwiches at a local sports bar. If you don’t mind drinking with masses of students and listening to awful hip-hop music (and you are a female), on Wednesday nights you can imbibe unlimited amounts of alcohol for 50 RMB ($7) at the local club. Thursdays from 2-4pm—if you are fortunate enough not to be trapped at work—you can get outstanding burgers for only 15 RMB ($2) at a local pub/cafe. And every day from 2-4 am, if you are lucky (or maybe unlucky enough) to be awake still, the burgers are also 15 RMB. [They knowingly call this the Drunk Munchy Special—don’t even bother on Friday & Saturdays]. There are happy hours nearly every night at nearly every place with specials like 5 RMB pints of Tsingtao & 10 RMB mixed drinks.

Offers like these generally do not exist on the East side. I suppose this is an argument for the West. One thing we West Siders definitely lack is quality restaurants, though, especially international foods. If you want good food from other countries, you have to venture to the East, and you have to pay for it. I just read a review about a new place in the heart of Sanlitun (the most popular East side expat spot) that serves amazing pho. I was watering at the mouth—I strangely haven’t found decent Vietnamese ever in this city. Then I read that one bowl of pho is 58 RMB ($8). That is outrageous. I wouldn’t pay that in the States! But that’s how these places get you—you crave decent pho/tapas/burritos/curry/nan/sushi enough to wear you break down and pay the over inflated prices.

A downside of living in the Wu is that it really does feel like living a world away from the rest of the city—making the journey to the East is timely and sometimes expensive. You get stuck in the comfortable little Wu bubble & start to run into the same people all of the time. This is both good and bad, but it does eventually get old. Sometimes you see some fresh East Side friends' faces, but for some reason East Siders have this constant expectation that you will venture to their side to hang out, but never, ever come out here. And when they do it is a BIG deal for them. With one trip out, they feel as if they have fulfilled their “West Side Quota” for at least 6 months. “Come out to the Wu!” we say. “But I was just there!” they say. “What? That was 4 months ago!”

Despite the Wu being a small bubble of 18-21 year olds floating in the far reach of Beijing, it is still a wonderful place to live. Last night five of us feasted on chwar (barbeque meat on a stick) and a plethora of amazing noodle and veggie dishes and washed it all down with beers while sitting out on a patio enjoying the warm spring night. We were ridiculously full and only paid 20 RMB ($3) each. Afterward, we all walked home together, as we live within 1-3 minutes of each other. I decided to stop off at the massage place in our complex and paid 58 RMB ($8) for a 90 minute massage—30 minutes on my legs & feet followed by an hour full body massage. [Best massage of my life, by the way]. My masseuse noticed that I had a cold and offered to get rid of it using the “cupping” method. For only 30 RMB ($4) more, my stuffy nose & cough was cleared away with the ancient Chinese practice. I made the 2 minute walk home, full, happy, & healthy.

A night like that on the East side would have easily cost me 300-400 RMB. Wo ai Wudaokou.

Bally's Gym.CN

3.25.2009

I'm sure most of you are familiar with the Bally's chain of gyms in the States. What you might not know is that Bally's is an international chain, including locations in China. In fact, there's a branch in the big office building where I do my editing and one of the benefits my company offers is a joint account for the employees. I've been trying to go 2-3 times a week over the last few weeks, as my "China 15" [yes, similar to the "Freshman 15"] has been sneaking back up on me. [Damn you $3 large, delicious meals.] I went a few times last year and the gym (which is huge) is always nearly empty. Most of time I'm the only lao wai, but I will see another expat every now and then. It is both comforting and awkward when you are the only two non-Chinese people in the gym-- or anywhere for that matter. While you feel better about not being the ONLY one, there is also this pressure to acknowledge each other's presence. Most often, you try to avoid eye contact or pretend to be oblivious to the fact that you are the only two expats around. But you can't continue this forever, so you eventually give in and do the polite "you're-a-stranger-but-I'm-obligated-to-give-you-a-head-nod-because-we-are-both-foreign" head nod and clear the (white) elephant out of the room.

There is the occasional male expat gym patron, but never another female. I am always the only white girl in the two story gym. Again, the place is nearly always empty, so I don't really feel that out of place. I've been the only white girl around many, many more people before.

I went to the gym last Wednesday night-- the first time ever going during the week. The place was PACKED. Like "waiting-your-turn-for-a-treadmill" packed. China packed. And I was still the only white girl. Now I was feeling a bit self conscious. I don't know if everyone does the "imaginary audience" thing to some degree at the gym, but I'll admit that sometimes I feel as though people are watching me work out. Whether it be because I'm doing something really wrong or doing it really right, I can't help but have a small paranoia that someone, somewhere in the gym is counting my reps with me. [Silly, I know.]

Now take this small, silly paranoia and add a little "only white girl in the entire gym FULL of people" to the equation: I was sweating before my first curl. I turned my MP3 player up extra loud, tried to ignore it, and set to work.

As I did some weight lifting in the free weight area, I noticed a full-on Chinese rou tou (the term I coined for "Meat Head" in Chinese-- pronounced 'row tow'). He was a Bally's personal trainer and--in true Chinese fashion--was training about 5 people at the same time. He was running around like a mad man with his popped collar & popping veins. I thought I saw him looking over at me. Ahh! He's probably thinking that I am doing everything all wrong, I assumed. I tried to disregard him.

I guess I wasn't completely imagining my audience because a few minutes later he came up to me. I saw his mouth moving, but couldn't make out the words because of my blaring tunes. I took my earphones out. I saw his mouth moving again but still couldn't make out the words-- because he was speaking Chinese. [Weird]. Finally he said slower: "Ni shi na guo ren?" ("What country are you from?")

"Ah," I said, forcing back laughter, "Wo shi Mei Guo ren." ("I'm American.")

"Ahhh. Mei Guo ren!" He kept talking but the only thing I caught was "hen hao" ("very good") and the motions he was making-- imitating my lifting. I smiled and gave him a xiexie and he went on his frantic way.

The reason I forced back laughter when I realized what he was asking me was because I couldn't help picturing the same scene in an American Bally's: you're in the middle of a work out and a trainer comes over to you and says [and I picture this in a "Joey" from Friends voice], "What country are youuuu from?" That would be the weirdest and worst line ever. But in China, being the only nu lao wai in the place, this somehow made sense.

After weights I always end with cardio. The gym is set up so the 30 or so treadmills are all lining and facing huge windows overlooking the busy street below. This 30 minutes is not just cardio time, but also my "revenge time". That's right. All of you Beijing ren that constantly stare at me inside and outside the gym? Yup. I people-watch the shit out of you while I run. I watch you walk/bike/run/scurry by. And I stare. I stare hard. I dissect everything about you-- your hair, your clothes, your bike, your load, your car, your boyfriend/girlfriend, your child. And I relish every single second of it.

When I'm finished I take a quick trip to the locker room, not to shower [ew, who showers at the gym??], but to wash my hands and grab my things. I'm clearly kidding about the shower thing, though, because apparently I am the only one who doesn't shower at the gym. I try really hard to just look straight ahead, get in and get out, because there are naked Chinese women everywhere. For a supposedly conservative country, these women are not shy about nudity. There is usually at least 5 women standing around chatting or blow drying their hair-- completely naked. Who blow dries their hair naked? In public? For the love of FSM put some undies and a bra on! And how come none of these women have nice bodies? I know that's mean and all, but you would think that Chinese women that actually work out [very, very rare] would have smokin' bodies. Nope. Gross. My people watching doesn't extend to the locker room, and I get the hell outta there.

On my walk home, things go back to how they were before: the staring commences. If you ever want to feel like a microbe under a microscope, just walk on a Chinese street wearing only your gym clothes when it is a few degrees above freezing out. I might as well be the Loch Ness Monster eating a bag full of baby Chupacabras while riding on a unicorn that is farting rainbows. Eh, I'm used to it by now.

-T

How to Apartment Hunt in Beijing

3.01.2009

Below you will find 15 easy-to-follow, step-by-step instructions for finding a place to rent in Beijing:

Step 1. Consult ads on TheBeijinger.com first. You may be able to avoid agency fees this way.
Step 2. Send off a few emails, an SMS or two, or—if you are the brave sort and your Chinese is better than mama huhu—start making some calls.
Step 3. Set up appointments to view the potential living spaces.
Step 4. Go to your first appointment. Realize the person you have just met is not a landlord or a current tenant, but indeed an agent.
Step 5. Decide to see the apartment anyway through a struggle of broken English and yi dian dian Chinese.
Step 6. Stand around for 25 minutes while the agent frantically makes calls to set up as many apartment viewings as possible. Feel very annoyed that these calls weren’t made earlier.
Step 7. Realize that you have now becomes this person’s victim for the rest of the day and mentally cancel all other appointments made for that day.
Step 8. Set off for the first apartment, which according to the ad is “very near* the WuDaoKou subway station."

*Further reference for decoding the distance of the actual apartment’s location from where you actually want to live:
-"very near here" = 1-8 miles away
-"close to here" = 3-12 miles away
-"not so far from here" = 5-28 miles away
-"I think the location is very convenient for you" = might as well move south of
the Yangtze

Step 9. Ride all over the city of Beijing, sitting Chinese-style side-saddle on the back of the agent’s bicycle. Get stared at 100 times more than usual for being a female laowai on a local man’s bike.
Step 10. Get shown apartments that are either out of your price range, uninhabitable, nowhere near where you want to live, or PERFECT!!... except for the bathroom. Nobody could possibly shower in that bathroom. Nobody.
Step 11. Finally find one that fits most of your criteria. Negotiate rent with agent. Have agent slyly add that there is a “service fee” of 1500 RMB for this apartment.
Step 12. After hearing 20 times how cheap, convenient, cheap, and convenient the apartment is for you, decide paying the 1500 RMB fee isn’t worth it.
Step 13. Go home exhausted and defeated-- and still meiyou place to live.
Step 14. Feel extremely anxious and depressed knowing you have to do this all over again the next day. Crack yi bing ping pijiou. Or er.
Step 15. Repeat steps 1-14 as needed. Once you can’t stand it anymore, settle on small, clean, overpriced place that has a mediocre bathroom, a so-so kitchen, a decent living room, and a truly convenient location.

Womende ZhongGuo Yi Zhou Nian! (Our China 1 Year Anniversary!)

2.21.2009

Yesterday marked one year to the day that Collin and I first step foot on Chinese soil. I can’t believe it has only been one year; I can’t believe it has already been one year. Collin contacted the owner of our favorite bar-- Bed Bar, where he DJs-- and asked if we could throw an anniversary party there. He said of course and we invited all of our foreign and local friends to come out. The last time the same group of people gathered at the same place was for my “Going Away Party" (yeah, yeah…), which was a lot of fun but tinged with sadness. This time, it was all good times and happiness. Collin spun all of our favorite tunes and we danced the night away.

Who would have thought we’d still be here one year later? One year and counting… Is it something about China that sucks certain laowais in, making it difficult for them to ever leave? Or is it simply something about becoming immersed in a new culture and country that is so enchanting? For me, it is certainly a mixture of both of these.

Attempting to reflect on everything we’ve been through and experienced this last year makes me feel overwhelmed—almost as overwhelmed as I felt when first touching down here. I don’t think I could have done it without Collin. No, I know I couldn’t have done it without my gege and we certainly wouldn’t have made it very far without Sixiao, our new students, and later our great friend Song Ge, who were/are consistently willing to help play interpreter/guide/assistant/translator every time we are in need.

The sweetness of the Chinese people—their hospitality, their eagerness to aid even a perfect stranger—is also overwhelming. The day I came back, as I was hauling all of my belongings in the cold rain, people stopped all along the way to help me. Holding doors, holding elevators, and even bringing my suitcases all the way to Collin’s front door for me. Collin’s students, whom I haven’t even met, were contacting agents to help me find a room to rent. Song Ge was contacting visa agents and helping me look into room situations as well. So sweet.

Of course this is also a dog eat dog world and if you slow down for one second in the fast lane, you will get run over. Quite literally. You have to keep your head up, your shoulder to the wheel, and nose to the grind to last here—this is not a country of slackers. Not all Chinese people are really sweet, some will try to take advantage of foreigners, but I don’t suppose that occurs more here than any other country.

It does seem as though when things are opposite here, they are vastly opposite. Because of this the running theme for our time here has been “Wo ai/bu ai ZhongGuo” (“I love/hate China”) and one truly feels these extremes every day. After a long day of being shoved around on the subway and breathing polluted air, eating amazing food and getting a 2 hour massage for less than $10 (for dinner AND the massage) helps you remember why you love it so much. Getting swindled out of money by a shady employer or a cunning vendor is awful and frustrating, but your brother’s student’s friend’s neighbor offering you help with anything you need (without ever having met you) reminds you how kind the majority of citizens are.

----

I’ve been spending a lot of time going around the city on my own since I’ve been back. During the daytime when everyone else is at work, I’ve been running around getting my life back in order. It is almost humorous to think of how daunting this huge city once was to me, mainly due to the immense size and the spoken and written language barriers. Now I zip around via subway, bike, and taxi without a second thought. My Chinese is still hen bu hao, and has gotten worse due to my recent absence, but it is still enough to get by. I definitely thought 1 year in it would be much better, but without formal studying (and a lot of it) this language seems near impossible to ever master.

I run into people in Beijing all of the time now. A city of 20 million people, and I run into people I know. This is partly due to the expat community being somewhat tight knit and the fact that we all frequent the same areas and establishments, but bumping into people on the subway or in random places never ceases to blow my mind. Similarly, meeting new people here that know the same people you know back home, or have grown up in cities next to yours, or went to your same university at the same time, always makes you feel like this world is such a small place, despite living miles from where I grew up and in a country with a billion plus people. However, if there is one thing that I have learned from living abroad, it is that this world certainly is not a small, and there is much I must see and experience in my lifetime. But for now, China is still captivating and will be a great launching pad for my next adventures abroad.

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.