Other Languages' Words I Wish We Had In English

I know many of you are bilingual; so cool! I wish I spoke another language fluently/native-like. I don't. But I do like adopting the words I love in other languages into English, without translating them. I've talked here before about a few words I wish we had equivalents for in English. Here are a couple more:

1. Sancha

Origin: Spanish. Means: 'The girl on the side.' We don't have a great translation for it into English. Concubine? Mistress? Illicit Lover? None of those really capture how I heard sancha used in everyday conversation, which in San Antonio, was frequently. (What this says about San Antonians, I'm not sure.) Anyway, I always heard it used as a girl on the side you flirt with and have feelings for, but not necessarily doing anything about. Although you might be. It covers a wide range of doing-ness or not. But if you are in a monogamous relationship, you probably don't want your SO to have a sancha.

2. Ganbei

Origin: Mandarin. Means: Empty your glass in one shot. We do have some equivalent words in English, such as shooting, shot-gunning, chugging, etc. But ganbei is a more elegant word, I think. (Pronounced 'gawn bay.') It's used in the same manner as our word 'Cheers!' but it always means you have to empty your glass all at once. It doesn't have the frat-boy overtones of our words, it's just friendly and fun. The Chinese can drink, yo.

3. Hao bu hao?

Origin: Mandarin. Means: literally, 'good not good?' but is used to find out if someone finds your idea agreeable. It's shorthand for, "Is what I've proposed agreeable/ok with you?"  Of course in English was can say, "Okay?" But there are so many ways to intonate this word it can be difficult to make sure your tone is coming across the way you mean it to, especially in writing. To me, 'hao bu hao' is more clear in it's meaning. When I text, I often start typing this and have to delete it if I am talking to non-Mandarin speaking friends. It's the first thing I want to teach my friends, so I can use it with them. I love it. (Pronounced 'how bu how.'

You guys, this alphabet thing is getting teeedddiiiooous. And judging from the number of comments, it is for you, too! Turns out I have far fewer interesting things to say when I am not talking about China. Which is great, because China is infinitely interesting to me! I SHOULD be far less interesting than China. Also, I don't like having to do things in order. So, I hereby resolve to finish my alphabet project at will, and in any order I choose, as long as I hit them all. That's much more my style.

Hope you all have a great week!

Moving Forward

I was going to write today about China, but you know what? I realize my memories will never mean as much to other people as they do to me. And that's okay. I think if you've read my other posts, you have a good idea of what I loved, and what was difficult, about China.

Sometimes I miss China so much my heart aches. Sometimes I'm relieved to be back in America where I understand the culture (although this took several months-- reverse culture shock is a real thing). I'm feeling much more comfortable here.

Some big changes for me coming up. China did a good job preparing me for the rest of my life. It was a graduate course in flexibility, creativity, strength, courage, acceptance and doing things you never thought possible.

I read an analogy recently that made a lot of sense to me, so I want to share it: if you think of life like a river, a lot of us are preoccupied with where we are in the river: what we have materially, or relationships, what we've achieved or acquired. But really, what matters is the direction you're heading. If you are constantly trying to hold onto things that are not moving you forward, you are expending a lot of energy fighting the natural ebb and flow of life. What you hold onto isn't what supports you in your journey forward. But when you know what supports you, and you can let go of what you hold onto that isn't supporting you or moving you forward, you are more able to progress toward your life's goals and purpose.

So, I'm making a conscious effort to let go of the things that aren't moving me forward, that I am expending energy holding onto instead of being supported by. I wrote a list and I think every day a little bit about letting those things go. Some are mental, some are physical, but I am now focusing my attention on moving forward. So I'm going to keep more of those memories of China to myself, in my past, where they belong as a happy part of my life.

Ultimately, this picture is what China was all about for me: my students. I taught a lot of girls, and I hope they  know their education means something, that they have value in this world. If they believe that, I did my job. Based on the good hearts of my students, I have high hopes for the future of China.

10 Things I Love About Life in America

Three months in, a few things I love about being back in America:

1. Walking into a store that has clothes and shoes in my size, and no one telling me I am too big or fat for their store.
2. Buying produce without having to weigh it first at a chaotic produce counter where if you don't shove to the front, you never get your stuff weighed.
3. No one screaming "Hello!" in my face as I'm walking by.
4. Super clean public bathrooms!
5. Everything smells so good. (Americans are very particular about smells, aren't we?)
6. Indoor climate control everywhere you go.
7. People smile at you and hold the door*.
8. Target.
9. So much cheese!
10. No firewall, no need to censor what I'm Googling, and I can take pictures of whatever I want.**

*Stores in my part of China don't have doors, just an open wall, but no one smiles.

**In the video I posted recently of my neighborhood, you might not have noticed I was being very careful to keep the camera on my side of the street. That's because across the street was a large firehouse, which in China is a military installation. You're not allowed to photograph that kind of thing, and they had an armed military officer at all times outside the firehouse keeping guard. You always need to be careful in China where you're pointing your camera.

Tomorrow, 10 things I miss most about living in China.

Giving Back In Your Honor

It is not an exaggeration to say I would not have made it through my Peace Corps experience without the support of folks back home. So many people did so much for me. I'm putting together this week care packages for Thanksgiving/Christmas for some folks over in China; it means a lot for me to be able to give back for all the kindness shown towards me. It's so fun picking stuff out, knowing it'll be a treat for them. Thanks again to everyone who supported me, with packages and warm thoughts and kind words. I'm paying it forward in your honor.

"The Girl" and Dr. Bronner's Peppermint Soap

In Chongqing there aren't many foreigners compared to other big, populated in cities in China. This led to 'Panda Syndrome': we were often treated like special pandas at the zoo. Sounds nice, but really? It's not. I learned I could never handle being famous.

One night a few of us Americans were having dinner with some Chinese students. They made a dish for us called 'hui guo rou' known in English as 'twice-cooked pork.' Someone asked what the dish was called and I answered with the correct name. The students started teasing him for not knowing the name and then one of the students said, "The girl knew what it was."  The girl? The girl teacher? The girl version of an American? The girl what? It bothered me at the time because it was a bit dehumanizing and I was fighting for every bit of my humanity, but now it's kinda funny. Of course the guys who were there started calling me The Girl. It ended one night at dinner when J. was trying to pay for our meals: "Come on, at least let me look cool in front of The Girl." I put my foot down, no more calling me The Girl! I hated that nickname. POSTCRIPT: After reading your comments, I feel like kind of a jerk for thinking this way!

Then this past summer when I went to visit T. at the teaching project, I found out after I left the students asked, "Is the girl coming back?" Sigh. So now I choose to believe this was their way of saying I was special. After all, I never heard anyone say "The Boy." Yeah, special.
____________

A product I love: Dr. Bronner's peppermint soap. I love it so much I packed a bottle to China with me. A little bit goes a long way; I had to throw it out when I came home, I didn't even use it all.  I have eczema, so I steer clear of soaps and detergents (whenever possible) that irritate my skin. I bought a small foaming handsoap pump, dumped out the soap that came with it and mixed up my own soapy mixture with Dr. Bronner's. They also sell it in bar form. The liquid version is very inexpensive because it lasts so long. $6 for two years worth of soap is quite a deal! It's a hippie soap with all kinds of kookie writing on the bottles, but it's a good product. I recommend it.

Youngest and Oldest Kids: Adventures of the Chongqing Nanny

I get along well with youngest children; most of my best friends and men I've been out with are youngest kids. I'm an oldest, so perhaps it's just an easy paradigm to fall into. My second year, most of the new volunteers assigned to Chongqing were guys. (New volunteers arrive every July; because we serve for two years, you serve with a different group your first and second years.) And almost all of them were youngest children.

Because I'd already been in Chongqing a year when the new volunteers arrived, I was happy to take on the role of 411 if they needed it. I told them about getting around the city and food and shopping and whatever else they needed to know. But then I started getting calls from restaurants, asking me to talk to their server to order their dinner. One of the girls sometimes called me and she was always "Hey, can you help me out? I've tried and it's not working." But the boys were like, "Hi, order my food, 'k thanks bye." I started to get annoyed by the boys. I started to feel like I wasn't their friend, I was their nanny. On the one hand, it was flattering they thought I knew so much. On the other hand, I'm not your mom. It's funny now to me how easy it was for us to fall into this pattern, because both sides were willing to take on the role of youngest/oldest. (Yes, I am stereotyping-- not all youngest or oldest kids act like this. But we did.)

I finally told them I felt like their nanny, not their friend, and I didn't like that. They started making an effort to make sure they knew I was their friend first, nanny second (haha), balance restored. Even now I sometimes still get emails asking for help with something Chongqing-related. I'm happy to help out. And they taught me more about being very laid-back, carefree and fun-loving. Youngest and oldest: it's a dynamic that works.

Happy Halloween! Hope you have a great time. Be safe! Here's a picture from last year I don't think I've shared before. He didn't know what to be for Halloween, so like a good nanny I took him in at the last minute, gave him my Chinese silk dragon robe, cut off the sleeves of this t-shirt, blew dry his just-washed gym shorts with my hair-dryer and gave him a (make-up based) black eye. I also taped up his hands but it disappeared by the time this picture was taken. I had to rush him past the guards outside my apartment because at the time they were still housing swine flu quarantinees in my building. But look at him: would YOU mess with this boxer? I still love the memory of us trying to get a taxi in our Halloween getups. Crazy Americans.

Quiet Time and Meditation

What do you do for quiet time?

I like my quiet time very early in the morning. In China I had the habit of waking up verrry early because the birds that lived in the bamboo growing outside my window also got up early. Older people did daily tai chi in the courtyard outside my apartment at the break of dawn. I loved seeing their quiet, uniform movements. It inspired me to find quiet time of my own.

I began the habit of sitting quietly every morning on my mat, thinking about what was important to me that day and what I wanted myself to know. I hesitate to call it 'meditation' because I wasn't trying to clear my mind, have some kind of experience in enlightenment, etc. I just wanted to focus my energies and be aware of what I was bringing into myself in the best way possible.

Now that I am home, I've had more time to focus on this process. I downloaded some podcasts about meditation that focus on breathing and relaxation. I've been reading a book my good friend J. sent me about forgiveness of yourself and others, and being positive. It sounds new age-y, but it's an important message. I started paying attention to the messages I send myself, and so many of them were negative. I've made a conscious effort to change that. I guess I always felt if I weren't really hard on myself, I wouldn't be a better person? I'm realizing that when you send yourself positive messages, you feel inspired to change things in a positive way. Positive reinforcement works with yourself, too!

Focused quiet time to reflect isn't easy. It requires you to give up a lot of your own ego. That has been the hardest part for me. Often I cry after this kind of meditation, but I think it's a good thing; it's releasing all those hard feelings I've had for myself and others for so long. If you don't have quiet time for yourself now, I challenge you to start taking 1 minute, then 2 minutes, and so on, and think about what message you want yourself to know. You are really smart, incredible people. I hope you all believe that about yourself.

Fish Sellers and My Block in Chongqing (Yangjiaping)

I’m going through pictures and videos I took while in China, and I’ll be posting the ones that I think share a lot about what it was like to live in China and Chongqing and that I hope will be of some interest to you. They’re all short videos, 2 minutes or less.

This first one was a common sight on the sidewalk at night; small sidewalk restaurants sold fresh fish pan-broiled in hot spices with veggies. As you can see, there is a basin of oxygenated water keeping the fish alive. You pick out the fish you want and the guy weighs it on the scale; you pay by weight. As you can also see, the fish was flopping around too much. It really shocked me to see this the first few times, and then I got used to it. When he chucks it down the sidewalk, he’s throwing it to the person who will cook it. I know we think it’s gross to kill and eat meat on the spot, but without access to good refrigeration, this was the safest way to eat meat in China for a long time, and now it’s tradition.



This second video is of the block where I lived; it begins as I step through the main gate where my apartment was located, and continues to the end of the block. The thing I remember most is all the noise of this street. This was during the lunch/naptime block, so there were fewer people on the street.

This block is where I caught buses to go to the train station, bus station and to V's house and the entertainment/shopping district of Shapingba, where a few other friends lived. (I had to cross the street and walk a ways further to take buses to R.'s and T.'s homes.) This block is also where I bought beauty items, tea drinks, street snacks and other misc. items. Crossing at the end of the block led to the subway station and the Yangjiaping (my 'hood) main entertainment/shopping district, where we went for the big grocery store, bank, movies and nicer restaurants. I spent a considerable amount of time walking this stretch of my city, and I made friends with some of the sellers who set up on this block.



If you have any questions about anything you see in the videos, please ask and I will answer in the comments.

Traditional Chinese Comb Gift, Neat Thermos

I didn't know before I lived in China that wooden combs are a traditional gift to give to girls/women, especially as a goodbye gift.

At the tourist neighborhood of CiQiKou in my city, there were shops selling decorative wooden combs and hairpins, but I didn't think much of them, I thought it was just a tourist trap item. But in the days before I left Chongqing, I received several nice wooden combs as a going away gift.



They’re made of wood and painted with enamel. All the combs I received came in these nice boxes and were made by the same company; I’m not sure if this company is well-known for combs, or if they are the ones who sell in my area of China. One student wrote cute little messages for me all over on the box itself:



The combs are often stylized, such as this yellow comb I use on a daily basis and is carved to look like a fish:



All of the female volunteers I know were given combs as gifts, so I think it’s a pretty common practice, but one I’d never heard of. I asked someone why a comb was a traditional gift and she said, “Because it’s useful and beautiful.” Yes, they are both of these things! I find the wood makes my hair look more smooth than using a plastic comb, too.

-------------

My Chinese friend Cassie gave me this neat little pale pink/gray thermos as a going away gift; she knows I took a liking to the Chinese custom of drinking hot water and tea, so this was a really thoughtful gift. It’s extremely lightweight, well-sized for your hand and the thermos lid has this neat screw-off compartment for holding dry tea, instant coffee or any kind of mixer. Ingenious! It’s made by Tayohya, but I couldn’t find any stores selling these in the U.S. online. Maybe in Chinatown I’ll come across one. I use it constantly, it’s very well-suited to being carried around.

Gratitude And Socks

You guys, let me be honest for a minute: the past month has been tough.

I gave up my apartment in San Antonio to go to China, and just before leaving I moved all my stuff to my mom’s. So that’s where I am while I job search, at my mom’s. This is not a bad thing at all; I’m closer to my brother and sister and extended family, and my mom is easy to live with. BUT, it’s certainly not where I want or expected to be. I’ve had to change my attitude the past week or so; I’m choosing to be grateful for gifts and opportunities I have in my life right now, rather than focus on what (I think) I lack. One of the great things is that my mom lives in a colder climate than San Antonio, so I get to indulge my love of socks.

I LOVE socks—cute and versatile and less expensive than buying shoes and purses. In San Antonio I hardly ever got to wear socks because it’s just too warm most of the year; I had an extensive collection of chanclas, but hardly any socks.

In Chongqing, I wore tall socks all winter long because it was so bitingly wet and cold and I didn’t have indoor heat. My sister sent me some great thigh-high gray socks, and I had a nice collection of argyle over-the-knee socks. It was popular in Chongqing to wear thick ‘skin colored’ (meaning, Han skin coloring) footless tights with socks over the top; I did this look with skirts and chunky heels mostly:



I wore through most of my socks and threw them away when I was packing to come back. Now, with winter approaching, I get to replace them!

Some of my favorite socks I get at REI; Smartwool socks are very warm and long-lasting—these were the only socks I took with me to China that made it back with me. I highly recommend them, and they come in both cute and functional. This pair is now on my wish list:



You can see some more here.

The Joy of Socks and Amazon also carry great over-the-knee and knee-high socks. Target, too, but I couldn’t find any online today.

Happy socking!

Shanghai Pictures, Plus When The Care Bears Go Too Far

I found some pictures from Shanghai I never posted, thought some of you might enjoy seeing them. They are all cell phone pics, though, so not super high quality.

A hot water dispenser, very common in China. The Chinese characters say 'caution scalding', meaning scalding water, but the English 'care bear!'?? I can't even call this Chinglish or a mistranslation, this is just a joke someone played, right?

British style telephone booth, a cultural relic of the British occupation of Shanghai I assume. I was amazed how clean and empty the sidewalks of Shanghai were, compared to Chongqing:

An apartment courtyard; this picture makes me so homesick:

Little places to grab a cup of afternoon tea or coffee.

An aquarium in the pedestrian tunnel. I remember thinking how fancy Shanghai is compared to Chongqing, based on the underground tunnels alone. Wouldn't it be cool if your job was to take care of pedestrian tunnel aquariums?

In contrast, this is what I saw most nights on the sidewalk outside my gate in Chongqing. My taxi pulled up to this:

My American Bed, With Chinese Characteristics

I had a great bed before I went to China-- a deep pillow top, to which I later added a tempurpedic foam topper. Ahh... like sleeping on a cloud.

Chinese beds are usually one piece, not two, and therefore quite a bit more firm and less cozy. It's not exactly like sleeping on a box spring, because there is a thin layer of padding, but it's close. At first these beds felt really uncomfortable, but give yourself two years, you get accustomed to things you never imagined you could. Here's my apartment bed; it's a little hard to tell, but I had a box platform, then the boxspring style mattress on top of that.

I liked these box bed platforms, I imagined they were a design relic of the traditional 'kang' bed, where hot coals were placed in the box's empty space to heat the bed overnight. Believe me, with no indoor heat, I would've loved a kang bed!

Here's a bed at our favorite hostel in Chengdu. You can see the wood plank and thin mattress we slept on, and it's actually quite comfortable, I slept very well on this bed. (Not my legs, btw.)

-------

So, now I'm back in America, back to a big fluffy American bed...and it was really, really difficult for me to sleep on. My back and neck hurt all the time. I finally had to admit: my big American bed is now too darn soft and cloud-like. So this week I gave in to my Chinese characteristics and removed the top mattress, and I'm back to sleeping on just the box spring, with a foam topper. Ahh...so firm and familiar! And no more back aches.

Next time I have a sleepover, I guess it will need to be someone familiar with Chinese-style beds.

Bodily Functions Are For Everyone, Even The Vaginal Ones

Most of you know Chinese culture views privacy differently than American culture, most easily explained as 'there isn't any expectation of privacy in Chinese culture.' I knew this affected personal space, family and friendly secrets, neighbors knowing what you're up to all the time, everyone always in your bidness, etc.  but I didn't realize it also extended to the body.

It does.

In my experience, bodily functions aren't considered private in China. Sneezing, burping, coughing, passing gas, peeing: all these things are viewed as natural functions of the body, so you don't have to say excuse me, you don't God Bless anyone, and you definitely don't feel embarrassed when they happen...if you're Chinese, that is! Many North Americans...it might take a while to get to that point. (I think this is also why babies and little kids pee everywhere and no one freaks out. Babies pee and poop...why NOT on the sidewalk?)

When you first get to China, you're probably going to get sick. I can't think of anyone in my group who didn't get sick, but we have doctors available 24/7 and they will ask you all kinds of questions about the quality and quantity of your poop and whether or not you see anything weird in the toilet bowl. After a while, you kind of get used to talking about these things. (Some more than others!)

I knew I had become pretty comfortable when I was handed a bag of medicine at our January training conference, just prior to my trip to Hainan Island. (Sidenote: before we went on vacation we had to submit an itinerary; the medical staff checked it to give us any special medications we might need before going to that area, like malarial drugs.) I was sitting with a bunch of my guy friends when I opened my bag, which included a box of Chinese brand vaginal yeast infection suppositories. I pulled it out to inspect more closely. "Um, why do I have this? Why did the medical office give me vaginal suppositories??" Now, usually the last thing a group of 20-something guys wants to discuss is vaginal suppositories, but they started firing questions at me:

"Let me see it...yup, that's what it is."
"Hmmm...DO you have a yeast infection?"
"Is there anything weird going on down there?"
"It includes a finger glove? Open it up, let's see it!"
"So THAT'S how you say 'vagina' in Mandarin!" (He was joking, he already knew!)

I wasn't embarrassed at all to be discussing what the medical office thought was possibly wrong with my vagina with a table full of guys I see on a regular basis. Thanks China, for giving me the gift of no shame.

(Endnote: my friend C., who is super awesome but lives in another province so I hardly ever got to see him, piped up with the correct answer: "Wait-- did they also give you malaria meds? You need the suppositories  in case the malaria medicine gives you a yeast infection." C. was the hero that day!)

It also made me laugh when a good friend went home and literally the first thing she said to me when she got back was, "I have diarrhea." Only in Peace Corps...

Adventures in Mind Control

I wrote about this briefly before, but I want to expound on it today.

As a university teacher in China, I was coming to the cultural game about 20 years late; my students all shared the same cultural background, and because culture just 'is' in China, not very often do they explain or expound upon cultural reasoning or traditions.

So sometimes things like this would happen: I devised a lesson plan for my English major students to help them feel more comfortable using the subjunctive tense, i.e. 'If I were...., I would....' and so on. I made the theme 'Superheroes', something I thought they would enjoy talking about, and asked them to choose what superpowers they would have and how they would use them for the benefit of humankind.

After giving them time to prepare, I asked a few students to share their answers with the class. "If I were a superhero, I would have the power to read minds so I knew if anyone was going to do something bad, and then I change their thought so they wouldn't do it." The second student I called on stood up: "If I were a superhero, I would read minds so I could stop people from doing bad things before they did them." Third student: "If I were a superhero, I would read minds so I could change their thoughts and stop all the bad things." And so on.

After about the 5th student, I asked them, "Did all of you choose the power to read minds and stop bad things before they happen?" 35 head nods. "No one wants to fly, or change into an animal, or become super strong?" 35 confused faces look back at me; how would these things help humanity, exactly?

The uniform answer my students gave surprised me, because I was thinking like an American: I was giving them a choice. And their answer was to take away choice. My students were not accustomed to choices, and for them, this was probably the hardest part of my teaching style to adapt to. It's possible that mind control was the only logical answer for them to give, but it's more likely one student had this idea and the others decided to co-opt it as a safe choice. There was no need for them to have different answers; it's American teachers who want diversity, not our Chinese students.

My students have not been raised to make choices. Asking them to form groups of their own choosing met with blank stares, until I taught them how to do it. Asking them to sign up for a time to take their oral final exam prompted the question "Why don't you just tell us in what order to take it, like our other teachers?" (My answer: "Because I'm an American teacher and we like to give choices.")

I often felt that this issue of choice was the biggest dividing line between me and my students: I asked them to do it, knowing they'd dislike it, and they liked me as a teacher despite my insistence on occasionally asking them to make choices. But my second year, I changed the theme from Superheroes to something else.

Awkward Questions

When we agreed to be Peace Corps volunteers in China, we also agreed to never ever, ever, never, ever discuss the ‘3 T’s’ with any Chinese Nationals: Tibet, Taiwan and Tiananmen Square. Those topics were pretty easy to avoid; I think the entire time I was in China, people only asked me about them 3 or 4 times. And it is fairly easy to deflect conversations in China; if you change the subject, they accept that means you don’t want to talk about it. But there were other questions asked that weren’t necessarily verboten, but for me, awkward to answer. Such as:

1. “What do you do in America to spot the counterfeit money?” There is a problem with counterfeit money floating about in China. It’s quite common to be passed fake money, to the extent that if you get fake money from an ATM, the bank is not responsible for reimbursing you. (The safest way to get money is from a teller, because they check it before they hand it to you.) So you learn to inspect the paper on everything higher than a five, and if you do get fake money, you can make a scene or decline it or whatever. Or try to pass it to someone else. So when the business teachers asked me how we spot fake U.S. money, it felt awkward to have to admit we don’t really have the same size problem. One of them said,"But how? Your money is easier to counterfeit than ours!” Um, I don’t know. We just don’t really have to worry about it. I mean, I know there is counterfeit money, but not in daily rotation like there is in China. I still don’t really have a good answer for that.

2. “Why do Americans just say ‘Korea’ when they really mean ‘South Korea?” My answer: it’s tradition to just say ‘Korea.’ Follow up question, “What if you want to talk about North Korea?” Answer in my head I didn’t say out loud, "’Most Americans don’t talk about North Korea.” In China, there is South Korean and North Korean. In America, there is usually Korean and North Korean. My students picked up on this. They are smart kids.

3. “Do you have to have a visa to go to Hong Kong?” No, American citizens don’t need a visa to go to Hong Kong. “Oh, in China we have to have a visa to go to Hong Kong.” I never really said anything after that, just something lame like, “Oh.” But inside I was cringing.

All of these questions were asked out of sincere curiosity; it’s just that the answers made me feel a bit awkward. Luckily, they were usually short conversations.

Autumn Can Change Your Life

Caution: this is kind of a girly post.

For those who don't know me personally, I am half Chilean, half American. I inherited my mom's darker Chilean coloring and my dad's American features. I'm a mutt! And all my life people (salespersons, friends, etc.) have been telling me my coloring is Winter, because I have dark hair and dark eyes. Winters have pink undertones in their skin and look great in lots of white, black, navy blue, cherry reds, purples, etc... And gray. I LOVE gray. My mom would always tell me I looked like I was constantly dressing for a funeral because I wore so much black, gray, and white. But I noticed in lots of pictures, I looked kinda terrible. I thought I just really didn't take good pictures.

So one day I'm in China innocently looking something up on the internet and I read that many Latina and Asian women are not Winter, they are Autumn: dark hair and eyes but with gold undertones to their skin, not pink, and that a quick way to check if you are Winter or Autumn is too look at the veins in your arms and legs: are they blue or greenish in hue? I checked: totally green! I've been an Autumn all along! So really, I should be wearing browns, golds, brickish reds, and warm colors, not cool. Changed my life, y'all. I started replacing all my blacks with browns, whites with creams, and cherry reds for warmer hues. It really did change the tone and reflection of my skin. I looked much healthier and less pallid. The gray is really hard to stop wearing, though. I still love it.

Two related stories:

1. I emailed my mom and said, "Guess what? I'm an Autumn, blah blah blah" and explained to her the whole theory. My mom is very fashionable from her days as a singer, so she likes this topic. I got back an email in all caps that simply said, "I TOLD YOU NOT TO WEAR SO MUCH BLACK." Touché mom, touché.

2. T. and I were sitting talking when a Chinese girl told him out of the blue, "You look like a Brazilian soccer player, but that shirt is wrong for you." He looked at me and I said, "Yeah... she's right. Let me see your arm." Blue veins! He was wearing green, an Autumn color, and he is definitely a Winter. I had a chance to color code a few of my American friends in China; I know they are all SO grateful for my help. (I'm pretty sure things like this are the things they tolerate about me.) I also share this example because I love how in Chinese culture, this was totally normal for her to say. I don't know if I'd ever tell someone I didn't know well and wasn't being paid to help that their shirt color was all wrong for them. But in China, it's totally fine to do that. Your business is my business, mi amour.

In China most people are Autumns, and I noticed that the clothing for sale reflected that: lots of yellow and green and brown and warmer colors. And I've noticed here in America, it's all white, black, blue and red. It's harder for me to find those warmer colors here. Just an observation.

Check your veins! It might change your life. (Spring is the fairer version of Autumn, Summer is the fairer version of Winter.)

It's Probably A Good Thing I Don't Have Telepathy

I caught the flu, so I've had lots of time to sleep/rest/read. What I hate most about being sick is how boring it is! And how I lack the motivation to do anything about that! (I'm actually a little relieved it's the flu, because initially I thought it was food poisoning, and I was sad that my Chinese-germ immunization to food illness was over. But yay, it's just the flu!)

Another weird consequence of reverse culture shock I didn't anticipate: being in a crowd of people where everyone speaks a language I recognize freaks me out. In China, because I lived in a city where most people spoke the local dialect instead of Mandarin, I still didn't understand most of what was going on around me. (This is not true of all volunteers; many of them are much, much smarter than I am.) I got very used to tuning out what I could not understand. So even though I was surrounded at close range by literally millions of people, I existed in this little mind bubble where I didn't really have to pay attention to what was going on around me.

But my first week back in America, when I went to my family reunion, I felt like I had been placed in a big amplifier-- I understood EVERYTHING! And I couldn't get my brain to shut off these random snatches of conversation I was hearing from all directions. It was very confusing, and overwhelming. For my first few weeks, I have had to retreat away from this kind of situation, because it is just too much for my senses to take.

Remember the part in X-Men where Jean Grey puts on Dr. X's headset and hears everything like he does and it's too much for her? Yeah, it was like that. It's slowly getting better, but I dread going places where there are more than a handful of people I can hear at any one time. It has made me much more sympathetic to people with autism, because I imagine this is a little taste of what their life is like everyday. And it's really difficult.

I know a few of my readers speak multiple languages, and I am curious if any of you ever experienced the phenomenon of understanding way too much. No one tells you these things before you come home.

Chengdu Airport Adventures: This Is How You Make Friends!

My last day in China, I was flying out of the Chengdu International Airport, the first flight of the day to Shanghai. It was delayed (I'm pretty sure the pilot was still eating breakfast or something), so I was caught in a big cattle call of a waiting area. Every so often an employee would get up and yell into a megaphone about one of the 10 or so departing (late!) flights from that gate.

Chaos in China? I know, shocker!

So I pushed my way to the front of the crowd, and after about five minutes went by, I realized I was resting tmy arm and hand holding my boarding pass on the back of the guy standing in front of me. Like, my forearm and hand were full-on laying all over him. And it took me five minutes to notice I was doing this. And he never even turned around. And today this guy at the gas station was standing a full 8 feet behind the person in front of him in line, and it just annoyed me to no end. WHO NEEDS 8 FEET? It took all of my restraint not to cut in front of him in line and pretend I didn't realize what I was doing.

The other memorable thing that happened at the airport that last morning in Chengdu was when a French couple came up next to me in the crowd, but had missed what the megaphone guy said. I didn't want to be presumptuous that they spoke English, so I started repeating the announcement to them in Mandarin. The guy looked at me for a second and then said, "Excuse me, but do you speak English?" Haha, it was one of those cultural moments I miss.

That One Thing, And You Just Knew

I was going to write about coming back to an English speaking country and how sensory overwhelming it is to be in a group or crowd of people and understand everything that is being said, but it will have to wait for another day. Instead:

Did you ever date someone, casually or otherwise, and they did that one thing that just made you know for certain: this isn’t going to work out? And even if you ignored your gut for a while and tried, you could still always pinpoint that moment you knew? Yeah, here are a few of mine:

- The time we went through the drive-through at a custard shop and you didn’t ask me if I wanted anything. Who does that?? We got back to my house and while you ate the custard, I told you I was sort of done with you. You looked surprised. And never offered me any custard.

-The time you told me you had always dreamt of going to a Phil Collins concert. Really? Phil Collins is your dream concert? So never going to work out. (Apologies to PC fans, but that just ain’t my style.)

-The time you told me “How can someone so smart be so flighty?” And refused to go swimming with me in the middle of the night because the pool was closed. I broke in with another guy while you stayed home and studied. And those times you made me do math equations you wrote out during the college freshman world history class we had together. It sucked when you found out I scored higher than you on college entrance exams, didn’t it?

-The time you just flat out ignored the email and/or text I sent you. No one ignores someone they adore. NO ONE.

It used to be I kept trying, even after I knew, sometimes for years. The beauty of the wisdom of age is: even though it might hurt, it’s good to know I can move on and not waste my precious time on you one second longer than necessary. Those blinders fall off so much faster now. Thank goodness.

So, what were your moments??

Boy Children, Advertisements, and a Funny Song Story

1. My Mandarin teacher is from Taiwan, which means I am learning some of the cultural differences of how Mandarin is spoken on the Mainland vs. Taiwan. For example, where I lived, every baby was called ‘erzi’ (boy child) regardless of gender. In fact, when I tried to use the gender neutral ‘haizi’, I was corrected to just use erzi. So yesterday in class I had to use the word ‘child’ and I said ‘erzi’ as I had been taught. My teacher said, “No, that means boy, use ‘haizi.’” I said, “That’s interesting. I was corrected to say erzi where I lived.” My teacher, knowing I lived on the Mainland: “Yeah…I don’t like that.” It was a private, friendly exchange between me and my teacher, but it was one example of the way in which language can reflect culture. (I don’t need to go into details, do I?)

2. I’ve been watching a lot of rerun tv (Seinfeld: still funny!), and hence watching a lot of advertisements, something new again to me. And I’ve realized over the past two years that if I really need something, I’ll find it. Advertisements aren’t really necessary. Somehow, every product I actually NEED occurs to me all on my own. Amazing!

3. Since a few of you said you liked the song tradition, here is another little example of it, as well as an example of the cultural conflict that sometimes happened to us.

When T., V. and others did their summer teaching project in a little city a couple of hours away, I went to visit. When I was leaving to come back home, I decided to walk to the tiny long distance bus station instead of taking a taxi because it was only a mile or two away. The teachers they were training were treating them to dinner that night, but T. skipped the beginning of dinner to walk me to the bus station, and a couple of the teachers came with us to make sure we found it okay. We got there and my bus was leaving in ten minutes, so we started saying goodbye and the teachers were APPALLED that he was going to leave before my bus left the station. They kept saying, “Stay with her! Stay with her!” And of course I’m saying,”No, go to the dinner! We’re leaving in ten minutes, it’s no big deal!” We tried to explain it was no big deal for him to leave, but oh, these ladies were not having it. We finally convinced them, but when he got to the door, he turned back around and mouthed to me,”Are we okay?? I don’t know what to do here!”” I mouthed back, “Yes! Yes! GO! It’s fine!” It was sometimes really easy for us to get caught between what was culturally expected vs. what was comfortable for us.

The funny thing was, when they came back from the teaching project, some teachers sent a little Buddhist necklace as a gift for me, which was incredibly thoughtful and generous and kind and so indicative of how the Chinese are. But I also wondered if they did it as a sort of consolation, because in their eyes I didn’t get songed properly and was instead ‘deserted’ at the bus station. So now when I wear the necklace, it’s a cute reminder of that cultural moment in the bus station.

Song-ing, Plus Sobbing At The Chongqing Bus Station

V.and I left Chongqing at the same time, and we left together by long distance bus so we wouldn’t have to haul all of our luggage onto/off of the train, through the train station, etc. If you go by bus, they just throw it on underneath the bus, much easier!

So we had a plan to meet at 9 AM at the very chaotic and crowded bus station. In Chinese culture, you never let someone leave alone. They even have a verb for it, ‘song’, which can mean roughly ‘seeing someone off.’ To song someone means to walk them outside (not just to the door), make sure they get into a taxi/car/bus whatever okay, and maybe even pay for it. (I have gotten into more than one good-natured fight with Chinese friends over who is paying for my taxi home!) If someone’s leaving town, you take them to the station and wait until they leave. I love this tradition, it’s very sweet, and it’s taken very seriously.

V.’s student was songing him to the bus station, and my Chinese friend Cassie was songing me. V. and his student arrived first so they got our tickets, and Cassie songed me into the bus station. But she had something she had to do and couldn’t wait until I left, so I songed her back to the parking lot. Now, I have explained before that in Chinese culture people don’t cry in public, it’s a loss of face. But Cassie started crying, and the fact she was crying made ME cry, and after we said goodbye, I started sobbing walking back into the bus station. I pushed my way through all the people until I got back to V. and his student, who kept on talking while I sat down and bawled my eyes out for about five minutes. I was sooooo losing face, everyone was staring at me, and I didn’t care in the least!

V. and his student did their best to ignore me because in that situation, that was the polite thing to do. When I was finished crying, V’s student said, “You made some good friends here.” It was simple and sweet and exactly the right thing to say. Yes, I did make good friends there. 

His student helped us load our luggage, made sure we got to our seats, and waved goodbye from the curb as the bus pulled out of the station. It was a very sweet goodbye to Chongqing.

Living In A Mafia-Run City

Last year Chongqing got a new mayor, and he initiated a huge mafia crackdown in Chongqing. It was the talk of the city, and Chinese news, for my last 6 months or so. People were arrested, some executed, and the entire police force had to change their station assignments to try to break up the rings.

It didn’t affect me too much directly, but it was something people talked about in casual conversation, which I found to be rather remarkable. In my experience, Chinese friends didn’t talk to me about the government (and I never brought it up, either). But they filled me in on the daily developments of who was being arrested, the amount of money being exchanged in the mafia rings, and how it was changing the city police assignments etc.

One thing that did affect me was the end of the late-night mafia buses. Of course, prior to the arrests, I didn’t know they were mafia buses. All I knew was they were the only buses that ran all-night routes I regularly needed, saving me some expensive taxi fares. I had been warned that the buses were unsafe and the drivers were crazy, even by Chongqing standards. (In fact, a few months before I arrived in Chongqing, one of these buses had driven off an overpass on a route I used all the time.) It turns out the bus drivers weren’t actually licensed bus drivers, nor were the buses examined for safety in a regular basis. The buses shut down, but I didn’t know why until the mafia arrests hit the news. A few places we used to hang out at were also shutdown temporarily.

I had often described to friends in person that living in Chinese culture is, for an American, a little like what we imagine living in the mafia is like; where American culture traditionally observes the rule of law, Chinese culture places relationships above the law. Perhaps the only part of American culture that observes relationships above the law is what we would call organized crime. In Chinese culture it is okay to put the relationship before the law. I have often said that if you know the right people in China, it is the easiest place to live because you can get anything done that you need or want. That’s just how Chinese culture operates. It’s not criminal, it’s just how things are.

But in Chongqing, apparently things went a little further than that, hence the crackdown. It certainly did make my last few months a little more interesting. If you want to more about it, there are a few articles here, here and here.

Racial Profiling, Bad Manners, and Baffling Technology: A Day In The Life of a Returned American

1. Over the weekend I had to wait for something and there were very few places to sit, but two seats were open: one next to a Caucasian guy, and one next to an Asian guy. And it was really crowded, so I sat next to the Asian guy, because I thought he might be better with me being really close to him. This is awful, but true. Also, he didn't flinch at all when I sat right next to him.

Related: the first time someone here apologized after bumping into me, I almost laughed out loud. I hadn't even noticed they did it.

2. I had dinner with a friend of a friend at a Chinese restaurant, and we decided to order family style. This is how pretty much all my Chinese meals in China were eaten so I am very comfortable with this. But I guess to him, family style meant "sharing" not "eating out of the same plates of food." So I inadvertently grossed him out by sticking my own chopsticks in the plate of Kung Pao Chicken. I guess I'm not ready to be taken out in public yet.

Related: he said, "You can use chopsticks really well." I thought I had left this observation behind in China. I guess not. And yes, I do use chopsticks really well! I lived in China for two years! If I couldn't use chopsticks really well by now, I'd be an idiot! (I have wanted to say this soooo many times. Thank you.)

3. Most of my part of China still functions on a cash-only basis, and the electronic payment system, when there is one, is very uniform. Have you noticed that almost all gas stations, stores and gas pumps use a different setup for debit card payments? I have. It takes me a minute to figure out what I'm doing. And today I didn't have to enter a pin number, but I didn't realize that and just stood there waiting to be prompted until the guy said, "That's all. You can leave now." He said it in a nice way, but I still felt a little silly. It's a lot to remember!

Related: advice my friend J. told me when I explained I was having a hard time with reverse culture shock: "When you feel frustrated, just think about how nice the bathrooms there are." She's right: public bathrooms here are amazing. I could eat in there!

Good news: I enrolled in a Mandarin course at the local University and it's been nice to have a reason to speak Chinese again. It's very uplifting to have something to do while I endlessly job search.

Unexpected Anger at Bed, Bath and Beyond

So, wiser heads than me tell me I am experiencing reverse culture shock. And that it will fade in time. And this is supposed to be comforting, and it is, but it is also scary to me. Because there are some things I don't WANT to fade. Here is one example:

I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond over the weekend and I was just unexpectedly furious at all of the crap for sale that no one really needs for any reason other than laziness. You know the front of the store, where they put all the little gadgets and gizmos things on special? I was just disgusted seeing all of that, and sad, because I've seen firsthand the hard lives and smiles and children of the people who make those things. And I want more for them than to spend their lives in a factory churning out crap no one really needs. Some of my students work in the factories in South China in the summer, and I know some of them will end up there permanently. And they have so much potential! What would they be doing instead if this weren't the option presented to them? I am not against comfort and convenience in theory; I just wish we really thought more about the price in human potential we pay for them. Maybe we could do with a little inconvenience do give someone else the chance to live a life outside a factory, to invest time and energy in something else.

I don't want to become a person who forgets those people in the factories, and the price we pay for convenience.

Stress, Insecurity and Awkwardness: This Too Shall Pass?

It is harder to adjust to coming home than I imagined. A few things:

1. Reacclimating to American culture is stressful, because I don't always know how to act. And the cultural diversity I love so much (and missed so much) is unexpectedly stressful to deal with. R. and I have had some conversations about this and luckily I'm not just weird, it's hard for her too. It's comforting to know it's common, but still: it sucks. I'll write about some specific things when I have a chance.

2. I still dream every night I'm in China. My brain hasn't caught up with the fact I'm not going back to China. When this finally sinks in, I expect to have a little meltdown about it.

3. I'm on the road right now visiting friends out of state. I really needed this. Pardon my silence.

4. Some American friends I made in China have been very easy and natural to keep in touch with. Others have not. And without saying too much publicly, these categories are not populated exactly as I expected. I find it awkward and unsure to communicate right now with someone who was a really, really close friend in China. I didn't expect this, and it hurts.

5. I find it difficult right now to write about my experiences. Memories flood my brain constantly, but putting them down in writing eludes me right now. I need to give myself time and space to process what is happening, I suppose. So I'm trying to let myself do that.

6. One really good thing: I had a family reunion last week and it was wonderful to reunite with beloved cousins. It was also really nice to be with people who knew my dad. I love hearing my cousins (who are nearer to my dad's age than mine) talk about him. They knew him in a way I never will. And when I talk about him, they know exactly what I mean. It was comforting.

Culture Clash In Seat 46C

The last time I flew to America from China I took Air China, which has a Chinese flight crew. This time I took United, which meant we had an American flight crew.

The young Chinese guy in the row ahead of me brought a lot of carry-on luggage, and I watched through culturally enlightened eyes the way the flight attendant tried to deal with him. She was being so American! And he was being so Chinese! She kept telling him that it wasn't fair for him to have three bags, because it meant that someone else wouldn't have space for their luggage. And he kept answering in a very Chinese way: "But my bags are already here, and they fit." And she kept right on with her very American line of reasoning that the fair thing to do is to check some of his bags. And he wouldn't give an inch, because he didn't see why he should. In China, if you're first, you win. And that's that. And I'm watching this go on for 5 or so minutes and I want to tell this woman, "You're in charge! Just tell him you're checking some of his bags. You're the boss. He won't challenge you." And sure enough, after about 10 minutes of this back and forth culture clash, she finally told him, "I'm checking this bag." And he didn't protest at all.

An appeal to fairness rarely works in China. Hierarchy and rank, these are the things people respect. There is no such thing as 'fair.' It means you have to shove your way onto a bus, but there is a certain freedom in things not being fair (when it's in your favor, that is. So learn to throw those elbows!). Being a teacher in China is just about the easiest teaching job in the world as far as discipline goes because your students pretty much fall in line with just a mean look. You're the teacher, you have the power. Early on I confiscated students' ringing cell phones and took them home with me for a few days. This got the message across, and I rarely had cell phone problems after that. In fact, there was a Chinese teacher who threw a student's cell phone out a fifth story window! I never had the guts to do that, but if I had, it would have been totally okay.

I wonder if next time, the flight attendant will just take the bag.

Currently reading: The Gita, translated by Irina Gajjar
Currently watching: Seinfeld reruns
Currently cooking: artichokes
Currently shopping online for: work clothes and a cool, not-too-formal briefcase-type bag

I need to rename this blog, but I'm not sure yet what it'll be. Stay tuned, so exciting!

Home Is Where The Paper Plates Are

I made my way back to the USA this past weekend; I didn’t go straight to America after leaving Chongqing, but had a great final week with friends. I cried A LOT. Some people got the brunt of this, and because they are of the man variety, I feel a little bad. But the tears were in part because I would miss them so much, so hopefully they at least felt flattered I cared so much. 

Reverse culture shock? Yes, absolutely a real thing. Not just for me, but for my family having to deal with me. I’m sure at times they are thinking,”Who ARE you now?” It’s the little things here driving me crazy: personal distance, driving with RULES, small talk, concepts of time, American germaphobia, and the utter lack of people everywhere I go. I feel like I’ve survived a plague. Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful to have so much calmness around me, but it’s also really weird. I feel really socially awkward right now. I’m pretty sure I’ve been rude to a few people because I got all Chinese on them in the store. But hey, when it’s your turn next in line at the cashier, go! 

(Things I love about America: access to any internet site I want, clean food I don’t have to scrub before eating (although I keep forgetting and scrub it anyway), and unlimited corn tortillas and salsa in my belly. Yum.)

I’m staying with my mom temporarily. This morning I used a waxed paper plate for my breakfast and it was only a little dirty, so I told her not to throw it out and I’d use it again later in the day. A few minutes later she came over to where I was sitting: “You’re not in China anymore, you can have a new paper plate whenever you want it.” Me: “But I don’t need a new one, it’s still useable!”

To my mom’s credit, she didn’t throw it away. But I know she doesn’t understand why I’m hanging onto a paper plate.

I’m about 72 hours stateside; jet lag is a pain! Thank goodness for bad TV at 3 AM.

Three Little Words, Two Words For You, One Word For Me

From Robert Frost:

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."

In a few hours I leave Chongqing for good. (I'm not leaving alone; I have an understanding shoulder to cry on as we pull away from the city, should the need arise.) I'm embracing Robert Frost's words today.

To all of you who have been faithful supporters of me the last two years: THANK YOU! I could not, and I mean this literally, could not have done it without you. I can't express adequately the love and admiration I have in my heart for you.

And one word for me: love. In the last few years, I've learned that in the end, it really, truly is only love that matters. Most of all, I take home with me a lot of love, and for that, I am grateful.

This blog is not over! I have so many more things to share about my experience in China, things I am too overwhelmed now to write about with any sense of eloquence. But as soon I am settled at home and more or less awake, I'll resume posting and reading.

As we say here: 再见！

New Dress, Special Gift, and Buddhist Mountain Friends

I decided to have a traditional, formal qipao made for me before I left China. It's black with gold dragons, and ankle length. I picked out the fabric and the style and a local tailor made it:

And here it is from behind. See what I told you about my butt?? Oh well, I'll soon be leaving you behind, Chinese stairs:

The teacher at my school assigned to help me the last two years also became my friend. His father and grandfather survived the Cultural Revolution and have a collection of Chairman Mao pins from that era. It was important to show your allegiance to Chairman Mao, and one way to do that was to wear these pins. He gave me a pin from his family's collection as a going away gift; I was incredibly humbled by his generosity at giving me part of his family's history. I will treasure it always.

I went to a Unesco World Heritage Buddhist mountain site near my city. It was a very Chinese adventure! It took me 3 buses to get to the mountain top, and I was 'adopted' by an old man who was fascinated with talking to a foreigner; he even got on the mountain bus so he could keep talking to me, but the other people on the bus kicked him off so he'd leave me alone. It was such a Chinese thing, and something that would have freaked me out two years ago, but now was just what happens here. The old man turned me over to the care of the young guy in this picture, a random guy from Beijing who didn't speak English but spoke really good Mandarin (as they do in Beijing) and was backpacking across China. He was really cool! The two ladies are English teachers from a city southwest of me called Kunming and they approached me because I speak English. (Do you see how HUGE I am compared to Chinese ladies? No wonder I now have body dysmorphia from living in China.) They were so nice, and we all became mountain friends. Thus is the magic of the Buddhist mountain.

A few pictures of the mountain carvings:

My Favorite "Guess Where I'm Calling You From?" So Far

R. went to Tibet last week, and earlier this week I got a phone call from her: "Guess where I'm calling you from? Mt. Everest!" She was at Everest Base Camp, and China Mobile has a cell tower there. Now I can leave China with every experience complete.

(Have I mentioned I dread having to navigate American cell service again? I heart China Mobile.)

She came back to Chongqing for one day on her way to America, and as promised, we didn't say "goodbye"; instead, I stood next to the van taking her to the airport and bawled. It was really hard to see her go. Too many goodbyes these days! It's draining me. I cry a little bit, over something, literally everyday. I'm just exhausted. Sooo not ready for any more goodbyes, and I have some really difficult ones coming up. I have one more week in my city, then I go back to headquarters for a few days before I fly out. I need to make sure I stay really hydrated! 

I went to a Buddhist mountain this week. It was a really neat experience. I'll be writing more about it when the weekend is over. I need to download my photos from my camera, but I am just too tired to do it today. 

Back to packing. 

Smiles and Tears: My Last Two Weeks, Plus A New Video

I'm home from my trip, and it was legendary! I wish I could get more into it now, but it will need to wait a few weeks.

I'm fluctuating between being really excited to spend time in America with my friends and family and Target and lots of tacos, and emotional upheaval at leaving this place that has become my home, and the people who have become some of my closest friends and loved ones. Why do we do this to ourselves? I'm sort of on the verge of tears all the time. I don't want to leave. I don't know how to be an American right now. I'm afraid of not fitting in there anymore. I know it'll come back to me, but I'm as nervous about going back to America as I was to come to China. Human beings are funny.

So I hope you will bear with me the next few weeks. I have so many more things to say about China, I hope you'll keep reading for a while!

Today I made this video. Some of these pictures you have seen, some will be new. It's a nice time capsule of the people I've grown to love here in China. I hope you enjoy it. If the embed isn't working, you can click here to see it.

Saying Goodbye With My Favorite Shower Scene

I am heading out of town for a bit, not sure when I'll be able to post again. Let me assure you, I will be having a great time! However, I love you all too much to not leave you with a little yum yum.

I feel guilty for loving this shower scene, because maybe it is reinforcing gender stereotypes? But then again, the loosening of the tie! The wet shirt! The fingers in the mouth! His big, strong hands! And...now I have the vapors. Gender stereotypes can suck it. I just love this scene.

Have a great week/weekend y'all!

Seaweed Pringles and The Power of Cod

A few random pictures I took last week:

Seaweed Pringles:

Eating 4th of July 'American Potato Salad with Chinese Characteristics' with chopsticks:

The NBA is super popular here; this is a kid's team practicing on my campus, outfitted in Lakers jerseys. Licensed by the Lakers? I have no idea...but I'm guessing no:

Guy sitting across from me on the subway; his t-shirt says "Cnly Cod Can Judge Me":

Does This Mean It's Possible To ‘Manistrate’? Plus, My Favorite Chinglish T-shirt So Far

A few recent adventures in my Mother Tongue:

1. My friend G. said, “I demanistrated him. Wait, what’s that word I mean? You know, make him less of a man?” It took us about five minutes to pull it out of the deep recesses of our English brains: emasculate. But ‘demanistrate’ is so poetic, is it not? And I think if you can defenestrate, you should also be able to demanistrate. (Okay, I know fenestrate and defenestrate are not actually opposites. But still. It sounds nice.)

2. T.’s parents were here from California this past week to visit him, and it was really fun to meet them! His dad and I were talking and he asked me, “How much longer have you been here than T.?” And my subconscious brain said “Say wha’? That’s a much more complicated grammar structure than I’m used to hearing!” And my tongue said, “A year ago.” Which is, of course, not the right answer. His dad had a brief, ‘Oh, so you’re a little bit slow, aren’t you?’ moment I’m sure. At least I recognized my mistake right away and corrected myself, but I had to do it by giving him the date I arrived, which is how this question is usually asked and answered in Chinese. I couldn’t quite get my tongue around the correct English grammar of saying ‘a year longer than T.’ (Writing is so much easier than speaking! Time to think.)

2a. However, at karaoke last week, we did the full Empire State of Mind and NAILED it; you would have clapped, thrown roses, etc. So at least I still speak a form of English very well, that form being the one where they give you all the words.

3. This isn’t really a Chinglish t-shirt in the traditional sense, but it is culturally very Chinglish, in that it makes no sense for all of this to be on a t-shirt. But that last line is definitely my new go-to insult phrase: I hope my bike takes you straight to hell!

24 Hour Party People, Or, The Benefits of Low Expectations

When I was home in February, people kept asking me what I was going to do the next day. How should I know? It’s the next day! “I’ll decide tomorrow” I’d tell them. I think this annoyed some of them. Or at least, perplexed them. What happened to the Rebecca who planned everything out two weeks in advance? She got lost in the chaos of China.

Here’s a little something not everyone knows about Chinese culture: it’s very spontaneous. It’s uncommon to make plans more than a day in advance. In fact, a few hours (or less) is more common. At first, this drove me crazy; it felt like people were springing things on me at the last minute I was not prepared for. But now? Bring it. I’m ready for anything. Let’s do this.

Here’s an example of how things unfold in China:

1. Monday afternoon, I made plans to meet R.* for. dinner. After dinner, we decided to go back to her place. Around midnight, J. texted to suggest we meet for the lunch the next day. I stayed the night and took the bus home in the morning. I spent about two hours doing some work, then-

2. met J. for lunch. While I was at lunch with J.-

3. T. called to ask me to meet-up downtown. J. was headed that way to meet some of our other friends for a teaching meeting (which I didn’t have to be a part of because I am going home, woot woot!), so I went directly with J., hung out until T. arrived, went out for a bit with T., then headed back to J'.’s location. When the meeting was over-

4. we all had (an unplanned) dinner downtown-

5. then went to our friend G.’s house to play cards. Later that night-

6. I spontaneously stayed the night at V.’s (he was part of the dinner/poker group and lives near G.), then came home on the bus today.

And that’s how things roll, Chinese style.

One perk of this concept of time and planning: if things fall through or don’t turn out so well, it’s not taken as seriously. There wasn’t really a plan anyway. I’m often the beneficiary of low expectations.

I don’t really look forward to returning to planning, American style. You know, where you and a friend have to coordinate schedules and choose a time a few days (or weeks) down the road? That sucks.

*I use people’s first initial instead of their full name for googling privacy, not to be coy.

Friend With Boyfriend Characteristics, and Other New Americanisms

In China, it is popular to explain the nature of a thing by saying that something is ‘[thing] with Chinese characteristics.’ ‘Capitalism with Chinese characteristics’ is a famous example used to describe the Chinese economic system. So being the good volunteers we are, we have appropriated this construct for our own purposes. For example:

-“He’s my friend with boyfriend characteristics.” (Note: I love this one. So succinct.)

-I keep my extra bedding in a box; it’s my “linen closet with Chinese characteristics.”

-Because Chinese bathrooms usually don’t have soap and people just use water to rinse their hands, soap or antibacterial hand gel is “water with Chinese characteristics.”

Really bad attempts to replicate Western food or overly processed foods are “plastic with food characteristics.”

And so on.

Sometimes we even feel like we are now American, with Chinese characteristics. For example:

-Eating Western foods with a knife and fork and feeling really awkward about how you hold the utensils in your hand. And having your fellow American friends laugh at you because you look really awkward holding a fork.

-J., who is from Long Island and worked in the city for years and years, told me she had to think about how you hail a cab in NYC. She’d forgotten how it differs from the Chinese way. It took her a few minutes to remember. We often have these ‘forgotten culture’ moments.

-Adopting Chinese facial expressions and gestures of displeasure and using them automatically, instead of the American ones. (Oh, I should make a video about these.)

-The little daily habits we have picked up to survive here, such as pushing our way to the front of a crowd, navigating the insanity of supermarket produce departments (serious chaos!), letting people get really, really close to us, raising our voices in bargaining sessions or when someone is trying to cheat us, stepping over rotting garbage, spit bombs, and pee and poo on the streets, carefully navigating crumbling sidewalks and streets (some of us better than others, ha!), moving out of the way for cars and motorcycles on sidewalks, etc. We do these things now rather automatically. We wonder how we will turn off such behavior when we return to America. But as R. wisely said, “When is the last time you had to tell an old Chinese woman to stop pushing you in the back in the checkout line at Target?”

It’s almost comforting to me how adaptable we are as human beings in general. I’m sure I’ll adapt back. But I am sort of in shock that I’ll never again need my Chinese characteristics. I’m not sure how to live like that again.

And on that note, Happy 4th Of July! I hope you all have a wonderful 3 day weekend and celebrations!

Falling Down: A Cultural Primer

Several of you asked in the comments, or expressed concern, that no one helped me when I fell. So, let me explain that a bit:

Here, falling is losing face, so if anyone helped you, it would be like acknowledging how much face you lost. They think it's better to just ignore the fact you fell down. They're trying to help you save face. Also, people can sue here for personal litigation, and there are lots of cases of people being blamed for causing trouble. So people are reluctant to help anyone out.

It's the same if someone cries: you are supposed to ignore it because crying is losing face.

Face is such a big deal here, and most of the time, it's for things that don't matter so much in America. But they matter a lot here. So we just get used to this kind of treatment.

People also smile when they are angry. I asked my students, "How do you know if they were really angry?" They said, "I don't know, you just find out later when they get back at you or don't help you."

As the Chinese would say, aiya! It's very difficult to read people here at times.

Puking, Falling, Toothbrushing

Last night I got a bad case of vertigo, which brought on some serious nausea, which meant tossing my cookies in a little garbage can next to the couch. Have you ever had vertigo? It's a beast. And I hate throwing up. I'm a groaner, moaner thrower-upper. It's just not normal for your insides to want to become your outsides, you know? I was with T., so he had the fun job of watching me puke (and helping me out). Friends who help friends when they puke are real friends.

Then, this afternoon I was walking down a road under construction in a long skirt when I tripped on the uneven ground and fell out of my 3-inch heeled sandal, but couldn't get my legs far enough apart to stabilize myself because of the long skirt. Bags in each hand, I crashed to the ground in a totally clumsy and ungracious fall. A bunch of construction workers saw me, but no one came to help me. I scrambled to get out of the road so I didn't get hit by the big dump truck coming up behind me. On top of my ruined sense of pride, I sprained my ankle. Maybe high heels are not so practical for the uneven pavement and dirt roads of China. Or, long skirts are a bad idea. One of the two.

This is a picture of an anonymous man's sink:

There are six toothbrushes in this picture (including an electric one and travel one that are hard to see). In case you were wondering why anyone has six toothbrushes at one time around their sink, he did have a good explanation, but I thought it was pretty funny nonetheless. If I ever need a toothbrush, I know where to go.

My Buddhist Scroll and Other Weekend Pics

In the past I've only purchased souvenirs for friends and family, so this weekend I splurged a bit and bought something for myself. I need something to remember China by, right? I found this beautiful Buddhist icon fabric wall scroll, and I couldn't resist. I'm so happy to have this to bring home with me. It's just perfect for me.

Just for comparison's sake, this scroll cost the equivalent of $40 USD. I have no idea what something like this would cost in America, but I am guessing more than $40. This scroll and really good oolong tea will be my two splurges to bring back with me to America.

J. came down for the weekend, so we had a little get together last night with friends. Bugles on the fingertips never stops being funny, right? (My hand-- I'm silly, I know.)

And here is what we had for lunch yesterday, a Uyghur dish called Chao Mian Pian 炒面片. It's a tomato based spicy sauce, with freshly made noodles, tomato, green pepper, onion, cabbage and beef chunks. Soooo delicious. (It doesn't taste like Italian food at all, the spices are different.) I had no idea Uyghur food existed before I came to China, but it is now some of my favorite Chinese food. I gotta find a Uyghur restaurant in America, I can't go a lifetime without it! (Uyghurs are a Turk ethnic group in China, and many are from XinJiang province in Northwestern China. The Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon desert scenes were filmed in XinJiang. It's beautiful up there.)