Life On The D-List*

Last week Tristan made an astute observation: "In China, we're like D-list celebrities." It's true: people don't know our names, but they recognize us and want to know what we're doing, buying and eating. And they want to be our friend. (I think Tristan said this because some kids came to our table during dinner to stare/talk to us while we were eating; he's a tall, muscular, tough-looking guy who shaves his head. I love watching people spot him on the sidewalk, then get out of the way.) People treat us like we're living in our own little reality show, and they want to be a part of it. This isn't a bad thing, but after over a year here, I am still not comfortable with being treated differently. However, it does make for some interesting and/or unusual interactions.

For example, this past week, I got a random call from a girl I didn't remember but evidently sat next to on the bus going to school. People here are always asking for our phone numbers, and I used to be hesitant about giving it out, but then I realized they don't really call you, they just want a foreigner's phone number in their cell phone. But this girl did call, and asked me to meet her for lunch. I jokingly called it my first Chinese blind date, because I didn't remember her at all! Turns out she's an accounting major at my school and has to take a Business English certificate exam in November; she wants to practice her English conversations skills so she has a better chance of passing the exam, and in turn getting a better job. I'm glad to help her out because helping students is the main reason I'm here in the Peace Corps. And I am especially mindful of helping the girls, who have historically faced disadvantages.

So, living life on the D-list isn't comfortable for me, and I doubt it ever will be, but if it allows me opportunities to help people out, I can't complain. But I still look forward to anonymity when I return to the U.S.!

In other news, I have back-to-back holidays this week and next: National Day (October 1st, celebrating the founding of the People's Republic of China under the Chinese Communist Party, and Mid-Autumn Festival, a harvest and family reunion holiday. I have 3 days off from school for each holiday, so I don't have to go back to school until next Friday, Oct. 9th. I'll be doing some fun things around the city on my days off. Hope you all have a great weekend!

*Stolen from the title of Kathy Griffin's reality series.

Understanding Paths

In Chinese, the verb 'to know' as in 'understand and be aware of' is made up of two characters, 'know' 知 and 'way' 道.* So in Chinese, understanding is not just knowing, it's knowing the way, or path, to take. I think this is a really beautiful sentiment, as well as a very wise one. I like the idea that a part of understanding is taking action. Understanding motivates action, and hopefully, the right action for you. 


I'm trying to understand my 'calling' in life, my relationships, and my professional and personal goals. Maybe I don't need to be so hard on myself, that I don't understand it all easily. I'm still moving forward, which shows some level of understanding. Thanks, China, for this lesson.


*道 is also the character for Taoism, or 'The Way'

But What Do The Teen Sons Think Of The Cat?

Weirdest Chinglish shirt I've seen yet. And that's saying a lot.

So, Now I Am A Pusher

Well, it has come to this, China: I shoved someone out of the way on the subway yesterday. Not just blocked, pushed. My transformation into aggressive public transportation user is complete. New York, here I come! (Except, um, in New York I'll probably get knifed. Note to self: push the reset button at Customs.)

So, there is a story behind it: one of my friends here is JoAnn, an awesome lady who is a retired Wall Street programmer from Long Island. This is her third Peace Corps assignment. There is a tradition in China to give up your seat to the elderly, and people actually do it, willingly. I've done it, and it's a really nice tradition and wish it were done in more places. Anyway, we were waiting to get on the train car and because I've been in China longer, I'm a better push-my-way-through-the-crowd public transport rider. I pushed my way in and found two seats together, putting my purse down on the seat next to me to wait for JoAnn to get in the car. As she was getting close, I began moving my purse out of the way for her, when out of nowhere a Chinese guy starts sliding into her spot. I put my hands on his back, yelled "DON'T SIT", and pushed him from sitting down. Now, Chinese people do this to each other, but they don't expect it from a foreigner; he turned around half-shocked, but saw JoAnn and sort of nodded like, "Oh, okay, old person, gotcha." But seriously? I would have shoved him out of the way for a young person too. It's like Darwinism here, all the time, and if you don't grab what you need, you'll never get it.

I didn't expect to become this person.

The Flower Anus Is Not Where You Think It Is

Me: "Where are we meeting for lunch?"

R.: "Floweriness Cafe"

Me: "Flower Anus Cafe?"

Me: "Hahahahahha!" (Because I have the brain of 12 year old boy; also, she did say 'flower anus'.)

R.: "Flower - i - ness Cafe."'

Me: "Wow. Awkward name."

This cafe is an attempt at a "Western" style cafe. It was not good enough for how expensive it was. Nice ambiance though, very different from where I usually eat.

Chinese Pizza Hut

Pizza Hut was one of the first Western restaurants to open branches in mainland China, back in the early 90's, and they're very fancy and upscale and I feel weird eating at them. Also, expensive! Here's a photo of a Chinese Pizza Hut interior:

Pretty romantic, eh?

They have the basic pizzas you can order in the U.S., but also some local specialties. A few of us went to Pizza Hut earlier this month (for only the third time since I've been here), and Mike ordered this tubular creation:

And I hate to say it, but it kinda grossed me out, because it reminded me of these*...

...and no way did I want little stinging sausages shooting out of bread tubes at me while I'm eating dinner.

*sea anemones

The Tragedy of the Video iPod: In One Act

So you know the Mac sad face? It really is... just so sad. My 80gb video iPod bit the dust a few weeks ago. It's only two years old, but in Apple's defense, I drop it all the time. Should I not be doing that? Anyway, I found out there's an authorized/certified/official Apple repair shop in Chongqing. HOORAY. A video iPod is not a necessity by a long shot, but so easy to love.

Now the bad news: the repair guy at the shop informs me video iPods are not legally sold in China; only Touches, Nanos and the little baby ones can legally be sold here, so those are the only products they have replacement parts for. (The word of the day is 'legally.') Oh wait: first he tries telling me 80gb is too big, I should get an 8gb Touch, 8gb is much better than 80gb. Um, what, crazy man? No. 80gb is just fine. After we have this argument and I refuse his 90% sell down, he tells me, "Well, I can get a black market 80 gb video hard drive and just install it for you myself. But it won't have the warranty." Just to clarify: the OFFICIAL APPLE REPAIR SHOP is offering to sell and install black market goods?

Man, I love China.

UPDATE: iPhones were announced last month for the Mainland, but haven't been sold yet. No video iPods, though. Sad face.

UPDATE 2: Today I saw a 160gb video iPod at the Apple store. I'm going back to the repair shop to ask about it.

Dining Out In China: A Long Way From Chilis*

One big difference between Chinese and American culture: the expectation of friendliness. It doesn't really exist here. Because there is no expectation of an egalitarian society, there is no need to be friendly with people who can't help you or whom you're paying for a service. For example, it's noticeable to Westerners that here there is no friendly greeting or bantering between customers and employees in a restaurant. No need to make pseudo-friends with your waiter and hear, 'Hi, my name is Mike, I'll be your server tonight blah blah blah." Instead, here's what happens in an average Chinese restaurant where I live:

1. You walk to the door and someone asks how many people. They wave their hand in the general direction of an empty table and you sit down wherever you like. (If you had a lot of people they'd move tables together, that's the only reason they ask.)

2. There is one menu on an empty table. Someone comes to give you tea; this person doesn't say anything to you. Someone else comes to get your order. One person orders for the table. All food is communal. There is a small pad of paper and pen attached to the menu. You write down what you want (I can finally do this in Chinese characters, hooray!) and hand it to them, or tell them verbally by just saying the name of the food. No need for "I'll have the...." or "Can I please have the....". You just say it: "Chicken dish. Vegetable. Rice. Beer. Okay, enough."

3. There is no assigned waitress or waiter. Someone will bring your food back to you. If you want more of anything, you just flag someone down or yell really loudly, "WAITER!" No one is offended by this. You tell them what you want by just saying "more rice" or whatever. No need for "Can I please have more...?"

4. Stay as long as you want. No one will come back to check on you; once your food is delivered, you're on your own. (If you order a lot of dishes, expect as least one will be forgotten and you'll have to order it again.) When your table is finished, you yell out, 'WAITER! BILL!" and someone comes and visually counts the dishes on your table, totals it up and tells you what you owe.

5. Cash only. And you can try bargaining! Usually they say no, but you can try.

6. Walk out. No tip. No new waiter friend. But when you go back, they'll remember you and treat you well by bringing your food promptly and well-cooked.

I wonder if I'll think it's weird and unnecessary the next time I hear, "Hi, my name is Mike, and I'll be your server this evening..." And I wonder how much sticker shock I'll have by Western food prices!  I cringe at the amount I spent on food before. I could eat for a month here on what I spent on some single meals. I'm never going to want to go on a dinner date again, I'll feel too guilty!

*Chilis is my junk food guilty pleasure. Boneless buffalo wings and unlimited chips and salsa FTW!

Where The Good Men Have Gone

When a man* has done something bad, it's hard to reconcile how you could have trusted someone who turned out to be not trustworthy. Like, shouldn't my Spidey-sense have known this would happen? It's easy to blame yourself, when in reality, he chose to do this bad thing, you didn't make him do it. (It can take a long time to really believe this is true.) And then after you finally believe it, you still wonder: how do I know this won't happen again? How can I trust myself again when my judgment was so bad the last time?

And then you look around and realize: most men are pretty good. Some are even exceptional. Last night I was hanging out with some of my male friends here, and for the first time in a long time, I believed again the chances of running into another man like that last one are pretty slim. These guys? Are good guys. Not angels (thank heavens!), but respectful, decent, trustworthy people. And so are 99% of the men I've known in my life. So thank you, good men, for being good, for helping me see outside the shadow I've been living in, for helping me remember (and believe) you're out there. I'm glad I know where you are.

*This goes for women too, but I am writing from my perspective

Indonesia or Bust! Plus, The Wisdom Of Cats

If all goes according to plan, this is where I'll be spending part of my winter break. You can get very cheap airfare from China to Indonesia, and stay in cheap huts on the beach, perfect for someone on a Peace Corps (read: nonexistent) budget. I need fresh air and open space. Can't wait!

Also, I was talking yesterday with a friend about men who aren't fully honest about their dating/marital status. Reminded me of a guy I went out with a few times in Texas, I think Tony was his name. I went to his apartment once, for just a few minutes, and he had a cat. And I remember thinking, single guys in their 20s don't usually have cats. Suspicious! Also, he had the world's cheesiest flower painting on the wall. So I went home that night and shamelessly googled-- and thank heaven for Texas and their open records laws, there was his marriage certificate in all its PDF glory!  And no divorce certificate to match. Thanks, cat, for saving me from a loser.

(Interestingly, the guys I know who turned out not as solo as they claimed (all two of them) I have not enjoyed kissing. Maybe my inner-self knew they weren't being honest and tainted it for me?)

"Excuse Me....You're An Idiot"

(Backstory: Chinese students won't leave the classroom without permission. I tell them at the beginning of the semester if they need to leave, just get up and leave, but this never works. It's too engrained in them to ask permission.)

I teach one of my classes in a lecture hall. I have a little mic, a big screen behind me for audio-visual stuff, and a platform I stand while teaching. It's fun! Yesterday we were reviewing some vocabulary for telling someone when things break/go missing, and I asked the class for suggestions. One girl raised her hand.

Girl: "Excuse me..."
Me: "Yes, that's a great way to start a sentence when you need to tell someone something is broken."
Same Girl: "I'm sorry..."
Me: "Yes, another great example, good job."

I turned to look at something on the screen while I kept talking, and when I turned back around, there was that girl, standing directly in front of me on the platform. It's definitely not normal for students to join me on the platform; I almost teetered backward, I was so startled. "Excuse me," she said," but I was trying to tell you I really need to go to the bathroom. May I leave?" Giggles from the class. Oops. TEACHER FAIL.

P.S. I wear my stilettos when teaching this class. Not only is it good foot yoga practice, but would you mess with a teacher who lectures in four inch stilettos? Exactly.

Truths

1. I thought I liked playing video games, but it turns out I just like thinking about playing video games.

2. Now when I see pictures of tan people on the internet, I think "Oh, what is she doing to her skin?!"

3. These days, if I had to choose between making out with a really hot guy and eating a big juicy hamburger, I'd probably eat the hamburger. Or at least, eat it first.*

4. I've stopped giving unsolicited advice. I'm an oldest child, it's hard to stop. But it's liberating, too. I'm not responsible that everything works out for you? Okay!

5. I keep asking people to send me Velveeta cheese, and I think they think I'm joking because no one sends me any**, but seriously: I want Velveeta cheese. I know it's gross. Don't judge.

6. I had a dream Alec Baldwin was hitting on me. Actually, I don't know if it was Alex Baldwin or Jack Donaghey, but still: brain, what's up with that? That's the best you could do?

7. I like Diet Coke because it hurts my mouth a little; way too fizzy, but oh so good. I guess I'm into S&M: Soda Masochism.

8. I love that my neighbor Andrew calls me on the phone when he wants to tell me something. It's so old school and friendly. Human voices are nice.

9. Yesterday at lunch Tristan explained to me about fertilized vs. unfertilized chicken eggs. I thought chickens laid fertilized eggs, we just ate them before they grew into chickens. I don't mind when people are smarter than I am. It happens a lot.

*There are no juicy burgers, so no hot mens' egos will be harmed by the fact they'd come second.

**Yesterday FloJo mailed me Velveeta cheese! This blog is like saying "Bloody Mary" in the mirror 3x.

9/11

On 9/11 I had no idea what to say publicly. I hurt inside for those that still hurt. Especially for the ones I know personally. It's a difficult day for so many. I lit a candle for them in my living room. I wish I could tell them I was thinking of them that day.

My Seinfeld-ian Life: The Haircut

I use a series of pictures like the one pictured above in a lesson about interculturalism. (The red is Chinese culture.) I’ve had to learn to react to the Chinese custom of inspecting strange things (read: me) closely.

One example: the day I got my haircut, I went to that little print shop on campus to print a picture of the haircut I wanted. On my way out a 40-ish woman who was waiting for me at the exit accosted me, asking where I’m from, what I’m doing here, etc. I’ve gotten used to people getting in my face for no reason other than curiousity (remember the cell phone salesgirl asking me when I was going to have kids?) but when I told her I was on my way to get my haircut and showed her the picture, she immediately got very upset and told me that it was too hot to get that haircut, that I should leave my hair long so I could pull it back in a ponytail, and that under no circumstances should I cut my hair. I just said very assertively, “I’m cutting my hair! I’m cutting my hair! I have to go now! Bye! Bye! Bye!” and kept yelling goodbye while she kept yelling about my hair as I walked away. No really, these things happen here. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in an episode of Seinfeld, all the time.

I know in her mind, she is being very caring; in my mind, she is the strange Chinese lady who won’t stop yelling at me about my hair. But it was okay for me to push back on her; she wasn’t offended, it’s just the way things are here. Boundaries don’t exist unless you create them yourself. So I've learned to recognize and assert my boundaries, to walk away when needed, to not tolerate out of politeness behavior that makes me uncomfortable. If there were nothing else I learned in China, this one lesson made it worthwhile. I’ve even learned to make the Chinese noises of displeasure that are so common here. I love them! But I won’t make the noises when I’m back in America. Unless I’m in Chinatown, and then, it’s on.

Awkward Family Photos

Something I Love: www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com. If you haven't seen this site, you should go there as fast as your little fingers will type you there. (Bonus China points for scrolling through the site in your underwear, licking frosting off a knife, like I did last night.) This one is hands down my favorite one. That disembodied pacifier head! Runner up favorite: The Nativity. 


And a special thanks to my mom and dad, who never subjected us to this kind of thing. We owe you one!

Heat, Hair, and Frosting Love

1. This week it's been 107 degrees daily in Chongqing. I thought I was used to heat from living in San Antonio, but it turns out I am also used to copious amounts of air conditioning to make the heat bearable. Walking is much less fun that driving in an air conditioned car in this heat! But least until Sunday, we are living in an oven. (I tried using that metaphor with a student, and they didn't quite get it. No ovens here. Oops.) As one of my students told me, "Have a great week, in spite of the intolerable weather!" On the bright side, classes have been cancelled for the rest of the week because school buildings are not air conditioned.

2. I had my hair cut into a chin-length A-line bob. I cried the last time I got my hair cut here, the guy cut a bunch of layers into it that might look good on super straight, super fine Chinese hair, but not on mine! This new guy seemed to understand Western hair and gave me a beautiful cut. I wanted to kiss him on the mouth when he was done. It's kind of short, but those hideous layers are gone! Yay!

3. Last Christmas someone gave me a thing of Betty Crocker chocolate frosting, and I never opened it. Not sure what I was waiting for, but today I decided that time was over and now...I can't stop eating frosting! I'm even eating it with just a butter knife, how gross is that? (Because a spoon would be too deliberate? But a knife is just a taste? I'm retarded.) To my poor little sugar and lard deprived taste buds, it's heavenly.

So this week I am basically just sitting around in my apartment with my short hair and very little clothing, blasting the air conditioning, eating frosting with a knife. Oh, and texting a lot because it's too hot to actually go see friends. Welcome to my exciting life in China. Don't you wish you were here?

Party Girls

Me and Kristen (making a kissy face) downtown, waiting to enter one of the clubs where we celebrated her birthday this weekend. It's been quite a weekend, I've gone to bed at 5:00 AM two nights in a row. I'm too old for this, I need sleep! I start school this week, so it was a nice send off weekend for my plunge back into the daily grind.

P.S., I wore the flats en transit, then changed into the 4-inch heels for dancing etc. Thanks for the advice! It worked well. My feet are sore today, but I looked fashionable, and we all know that's what counts!

Unexpected Consequences: Chinese Foot Atrophy

I love high-heeled shoes. HIGH-heeled shoes. In the U.S. I quite regularly tottled around on 4-inchers:

I brought three pair of 4-inch heels to China because HAHA I thought I'd wear them. But I have to walk miles everyday to get everywhere I need to go, and sidewalks in my part of China look like this:

So, the pretty shoes have been in the back of the closet for most of the past year, but I pulled them out today because I have a party to attend this weekend and want to wear the awesome 4-inch silver strappy sandals and HOLY FEET ATROPHY, BATMAN!  I made it about a quarter of a mile and had to come back home to change shoes. I guess constantly wearing high-heeled shoes is like yoga for the feet? And when you stop bending like that, your muscles forget how? I'm so feet-ashamed, I've turned into a frumpy shoe wearer for the sake of comfort and safety!  This is not really who I am! So, starting today, I have a high-heeled shoe regimen in the safety and comfort of my own home: I'll be tottling around the house every day in 4-inch shoes, until I'm limber enough to venture back out in public.

I hope this is the most shallow thing I've ever posted.

Shanghai Street Scenes

As I mentioned in my last post, I forgot to pack my camera. My friend had a film SLR, but I decided the film was too expensive. I'll go back with my digital camera in the Spring. These are all cell phone pics.

I'm an architecture junkie, so one of my favorite things about Shanghai was the mix of French, British and Chinese architecture.

A neat little cafe in the art district.

Influence of the British Occupation? (And notice the clean, wide streets! So different than my part of China.)

"These Things Happen"

I'm back from Shanghai and I forgot to take my camera (!) so I don't have very many pictures to share, just a few I took with my camera phone, but I fell in love with Shanghai so I WILL be sharing with you a few of my thoughts and impressions, but something else has been on my mind. So today, I'm writing about that too.

A phrase I've learned to say a lot in the past few months: "These things happen."

Sometimes you miss your train because of a traffic accident. Sometimes you get dysentery from poorly cooked food. Sometimes you say all the wrong things because you're speaking a strange tongue. Sometimes a friend steals money from you. Sometimes you feel really alone and small and far away from everything you've ever known. Sometimes a man hurts you but will never be accountable for it. Sometimes people let you down. Sometimes people die before your ready to let them go. Sometimes you drop your cell phone down a squat toilet!

But also...

Sometimes a small child smiles at you and it melts your heart. Sometimes a friend calls right when you need someone to talk to. Sometimes a cab driver goes out of his way to be kind to you. Sometimes a neighbor helps you fix something that makes your life a little easier. Sometimes the fruit seller gives you an extra banana because she liked talking to you. Sometimes you have the chance to uplift a friend. Sometimes you give a hug and it means a lot to both of you. Sometimes you smile at someone, and they feel less alone in the world. Sometimes you give someone a little hope. Sometimes someone gives you that little hope. Sometimes someone new comes into your life that helps you forget old hurts. Sometimes a friend sends you brownie mix and all is right in the world again.

The only answer I have for why these things happen is: "these things happen." If I can really believe this, I feel like I'll be a lot more at peace with the events of my life. And how you learn to live with these things that happen, that's the lesson I'm learning.