At first I thought my students gifted me several apples on our last class before Christmas because I'm a teacher and well, it's a tradition in the West to give teachers apples. After carrying home my elaborately wrapped apples, I did some research and discovered that this was actually a very Chinese custom. You see, in Chinese, Christmas Eve is called Ping An Ye (calm, quiet night), and apples are called ping guo. So the word for apple sounds like the word for Christmas Eve, so people give apples as gifts! Very clever. You can also buy more expensive apples that have been grown with black stickers on them so the characters 平安 (ping an) show up light colored on the peel. Very very clever.
On Ping An Ye, we headed out to Shapingba to get together with friends for pizza and to watch the Chinese Christmas Eve spectacle we had heard so much about from the China 15's (the group of volunteers here who are now in their second year - we are called China 16's). Apparently Chinese college kids get together in the entertainment districts, buy plastic inflatable hammers and bats, glow in the dark accessories, and flashing rabbit ear/Santa Claus/devil horn headbands and proceed to beat each other silly. Foreigners become particularly desirable targets. However, when we arrived there seemed to be more police than holiday revelers, so we shrugged our shoulders and proceeded to stuff ourselves with pizza. As we moved from the pizza buffet to the bar, a few scouts went out to see if there was any inflatable weapon action to be had outside. Apparently not, as the police were confiscating inflatable toys and stomping them on the pavement. Nothing like celebrating Christmas by destroying toys! They had seemingly decided that only the Jiefangbei district in the city center could celebrate "calm, quiet night" with inflatable pandemonium. No matter. We enjoyed hearing stories about last years craziness from a couple of 15's and watching our friends take ultra-spicy "pepper shots" which according to those who tried it, was like drinking shots of alcoholic pepper spray. Only one or two folks were able to stomach it without running to the bathroom to wretch it out. Our friend Chris described it as "an instant ulcer." Not fun to try, but fun to watch others try!
On Christmas Day, we awoke late with our house strangely warm with the heat of three extra sleeping bodies (our apartment averages about 50 F inside these days). After wishing the folks back home a happy Christmas Eve over Skype, we woke our sleeping friends with coffee, hot cocoa, pomelo, and a veggie-sausage scramble. Two more friends arrived, we opened our presents from home, and then headed out to the first of two Christmas parties we were set to attend. Since there were seven of us at this point, we all took a bus across the river, then realized that the postal college was a bit far out of the way and that south of the Yangtze, the bus system was not as familiar to us, so we decided it was time to hop into two cabs. Laden with two pies, I hopped into the first cab, leaving Richy (laden with 4 liters of homemade gingerale) Leo and Katie D. to catch another. 30 minutes into our cab ride, I called Richy to see where they were: still where we left them, as every other cab didn't seem to want to drive three foreigners up a mountain (as sometimes happens here). We arrived to find that everyone had been waiting for us to eat (we were a couple hours late at this point), but it would still be another hour and a half before the Richy, Leo and Katie D. contingent made it. When they finally arrived with the help of some students, we hungrily set in to the lovely spread of spaghetti, penne pesto pasta, real salad (with ranch dressing!), and garlic bread. The highlights were the fresh grated Parmesan cheese, followed by an amazing array of desserts including cookies, pies, sweet steamed bread and real ice cream. I literally haven't been so full since our China going away party.
Our next stop, on the same side of the river, was a party at our friend Kit's, which quickly turned into a strange Santa hat dance party. Santa hats cost only about one kuai here, which is like 14 cents, so somehow we all acquired several from students and other foreign teachers (Richy and I somehow ended up with five). It was a good way to follow up eating ourselves into oblivion, and I am pretty sure I broke even on the calories after about 4 hours of dancing. Needless to say, we slept in the following morning, and somehow found the energy in the afternoon not only to hike down to Chongqing Tiandi (a new billion dollar development at the bottom of the Jialing River bank near our house) but also to head out to Yongchuan (about an hour outside the city) to visit our friend Amy and share our Christmas chocolates with her.
It was an intense weekend, which we're still recovering from, but staying busy was the only way not to get bummed about not being home for Christmas. Now we're looking forward to a trip up to Xi'an next weekend for the New Year weekend!
Happy Holidays!
~Katie
PS.
Here is a link to a recent article in the New York Times about our fair city of Chongqing! If you are planning to visit us here it provides a good tourist perspective on "A Chinese City for Chinese People:"
http://travel.nytimes.com/2010/12/26/travel/26chongqing.html?pagewanted=1
29.12.10
19.12.10
Fall Photo Batch
Pictures from the Fall. Around Chongqing, over to University City, and out to Yibin. Social gatherings and cultural highlights. The best of the best of my photographs from the Autumn of 2010. Click on the Photos link above, or the Slideshow or Recent Photos boxes to the right. Or here, if you're feeling lazy.
Also, I've set the permissions for all of the pictures with identifiable people in them to friends and family only, so if you want to see any faces, you'll have to sign up for a flickr account and add me as a contact.
Also, I've set the permissions for all of the pictures with identifiable people in them to friends and family only, so if you want to see any faces, you'll have to sign up for a flickr account and add me as a contact.
16.12.10
Early Christmas - It did snow last night.
To All,
It seems that Santa came early this year. A package arrived from America today. Quite beat-up but everything in good shape. I quarreled with the idea of a proper wait until the special day between the time Katie called and said there was a package in our office, and when she returned, but, alas, gave in to temptation nonetheless. And thank-goodness because it has been Cold here.
Our poor students have to run around with bottles of plain hot water just to keep their hands warm. I had to resort to wearing gloves today. And though we'd rather not have to contribute to the coal-power air-pollution problem, we have had the Air-Conditioner/Heater on for several hours today. It only takes the nip out of the air and doesn't exactly make it cozy. It snowed for the first time in several years last night, enough to dust the hills around the city and to cause some slush to appear on the windshield of the bus on the way home at 9:00 pm last night. There was quite a buzz in the air as the Chongqing-ren aren't exactly accustomed to such things.
There are a surprising number of Christmas themed decorations around Chongqing. Also an inordinate number of red Santa hats. My students have been doing skits as their final presentations and one of them wasted three of their ten minutes mumbling the few words of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," that they remembered. Another group donned the ubiquitous red Santa cap and took turns break-dancing to "Jingle Bells" for two to three minutes of their presentation, while unveiling, one-by-one, scrawled onto torn notebook paper in red and green ink, "Merry Christmas to Everyone."
All of which is to say that the sight of several packages of hot-chocolate spilling out of the box as I opened it was a quite welcomed surprise. A few of Katie's teacher-students took us to a cafe last night, and we attempted to order Hot-chocolate, but the best they could do was to mix Hershey's syrup in a glass of warm milk. Not exactly bad, and we were resigned to the fact that it was as-good-as-it-gets. Not anymore. In fact, all of the goodies seem to have their place in that box, except for one.
Though we knew from the beginning who wanted that newspaper in the box, it wasn't until Katie opened it up that we got a small glimpse of why it was put in the box. The exact reasons I'm sure will forever remain unknown.
And so, after I opened the box and saw the timely treats, I wondered if I should wait until The Day before opening the other box. But I think I've lost the right sense of time, or the feel for the seasons, because I opened it, too. And so here I sit now, 9 days before Christmas, an electric blanket under me wearing three layers of clothes and still covered with blankets on top, boxes of sweets and treats, a random newspaper, a cup of Hot-chocolate and a charging Kindle strewn on top of our bed. Seems like the right time for Christmas to me.
Thanks, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
Love,
Katie and Richy.
and p.s.
If you check the weather forecast it may not seem cold enough to warrant the above lament. In fact, the winter here is very similar to back home. As I looked through the average temperatures when I was hearing people complain about the cold winter last summer, I wondered exactly how it could be so cold. Well, the problem is that it's pervasive. There's never any chance to warm up. Nowhere is heated. And so everything is cold. And the only room we can heat is our bedroom, though the tile floors stay frigid, and the loose single paned windows mean it's always drafty. So the only time we're warm, is when we're huddled down in our bed.
It seems that Santa came early this year. A package arrived from America today. Quite beat-up but everything in good shape. I quarreled with the idea of a proper wait until the special day between the time Katie called and said there was a package in our office, and when she returned, but, alas, gave in to temptation nonetheless. And thank-goodness because it has been Cold here.
Our poor students have to run around with bottles of plain hot water just to keep their hands warm. I had to resort to wearing gloves today. And though we'd rather not have to contribute to the coal-power air-pollution problem, we have had the Air-Conditioner/Heater on for several hours today. It only takes the nip out of the air and doesn't exactly make it cozy. It snowed for the first time in several years last night, enough to dust the hills around the city and to cause some slush to appear on the windshield of the bus on the way home at 9:00 pm last night. There was quite a buzz in the air as the Chongqing-ren aren't exactly accustomed to such things.
There are a surprising number of Christmas themed decorations around Chongqing. Also an inordinate number of red Santa hats. My students have been doing skits as their final presentations and one of them wasted three of their ten minutes mumbling the few words of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," that they remembered. Another group donned the ubiquitous red Santa cap and took turns break-dancing to "Jingle Bells" for two to three minutes of their presentation, while unveiling, one-by-one, scrawled onto torn notebook paper in red and green ink, "Merry Christmas to Everyone."
All of which is to say that the sight of several packages of hot-chocolate spilling out of the box as I opened it was a quite welcomed surprise. A few of Katie's teacher-students took us to a cafe last night, and we attempted to order Hot-chocolate, but the best they could do was to mix Hershey's syrup in a glass of warm milk. Not exactly bad, and we were resigned to the fact that it was as-good-as-it-gets. Not anymore. In fact, all of the goodies seem to have their place in that box, except for one.
Though we knew from the beginning who wanted that newspaper in the box, it wasn't until Katie opened it up that we got a small glimpse of why it was put in the box. The exact reasons I'm sure will forever remain unknown.
And so, after I opened the box and saw the timely treats, I wondered if I should wait until The Day before opening the other box. But I think I've lost the right sense of time, or the feel for the seasons, because I opened it, too. And so here I sit now, 9 days before Christmas, an electric blanket under me wearing three layers of clothes and still covered with blankets on top, boxes of sweets and treats, a random newspaper, a cup of Hot-chocolate and a charging Kindle strewn on top of our bed. Seems like the right time for Christmas to me.
Thanks, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
Love,
Katie and Richy.
and p.s.
If you check the weather forecast it may not seem cold enough to warrant the above lament. In fact, the winter here is very similar to back home. As I looked through the average temperatures when I was hearing people complain about the cold winter last summer, I wondered exactly how it could be so cold. Well, the problem is that it's pervasive. There's never any chance to warm up. Nowhere is heated. And so everything is cold. And the only room we can heat is our bedroom, though the tile floors stay frigid, and the loose single paned windows mean it's always drafty. So the only time we're warm, is when we're huddled down in our bed.
22.11.10
堵车, 鸡叫火鸡
Traffic Jams and Chicken Named Turkey
In a typical week, Richy and I have 11-13 teaching hours and at least 10 hours of commuting time. That doesn't include lesson planning or grading, English Corner, meetings, office hours, or the extra time the commute takes when the city is in the midst of a massive diesel shortage. Our 45-50 minute commute each way has turned into 60-90 minutes, on occasion up to 2 hours. Long lines of cement trucks, long haulers, tractor trailers, cattle trucks and buses clog the roadways around any gas station with a supply of diesel. Many of these stations are near expressway exits, leading the line of vehicles to block major commuter roads. Men directing traffic in orange vests have appeared, and in some cases, traffic cones have been deployed, which eases some of the congestion. All this is little comfort to us who now commute for more hours each week than we teach. For a while, I used the commute to grade papers, but my students complained about their inability to read my jumpy handwriting, and forget about trying to finish my Chinese writing homework. I have a hard enough time writing the characters sitting perfectly still. I have learned to identify which driver is operating the vehicle before I choose my seat. I prefer to sit in the middle of the bus if it's one of the crazy ones, that way if we rear-end someone or get rear-ended I will hopefully be outside the crunch zone. If we have the sane, kindly-faced bus driver (who happens to look like Chow Yun Fat) then I can sit where I please. No matter who is driving the bus however, you can bet we will hit the same pothole everyday on the same overpass, going at least 40 mph. If the driver is crazy enough, we'll be going faster, which launches everyone on the bus 6 inches above their seat for a moment. Despite the roller coaster commute, you can examine the faces of Chinese passengers and drivers alike, and you will find no hint of malice, surprise or even anxiety. Everyone just looks bored, sleepy or as if meditating. The only time you will hear a peep out of our fellow passengers in regard to the driving, is a slight gasp if it seems that were are actually about to crash into something and the drivers brakes have locked up.
Needless to say, we have been very keen on rumors about when the teachers' housing on campus might open up. We had heard that most teachers would be able to move onto campus in the summer/fall of 2011. Although we hadn't mentioned it yet to our foreign relations office, we told our program manager on our site visit that we were interested in moving onto the campus as soon as possible. Considering the fact that we are supposed to start implementing secondary projects next term, we weren't really sure how we were supposed to find the time, wedged into bus seats 10+ hours a week, and living an hour away from the students we are supposed to be supporting and building community with. Our amazing program manager, after the requisite meeting with the school, advocated for us and learned that a few apartments on campus were in fact already available, and that we would be able to go take a look at them this very week. Upon further discussion with our waiban liaison, I discovered that they were not only willing to let us move onto the campus, but to let us keep our city apartment for staying in the city on the weekends! Although it will be a stretch on our budget to furnish a second apartment, we are hoping that eliminating the dreaded commute from our lives will make us more happy, healthy, and most of all, safe from China car accident #2 (if you recall, we experienced China car accident #1 back in July in a Chengdu cab).
On a more positive note, Richy and I successfully hosted a "mini-Thanksgiving" celebration last weekend, which turned out to not be so "mini" since we had 20+ guests (about evenly split between fellow PCVs and Chinese nationals). I pushed myself to the limits of my Chinese-ingredient-fueled American cooking abilities with: a pumpkin pie, a dutch apple pie, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole (I even had to make the french fried onions from scratch), homemade ginger ale, apple walnut stuffing, and a roasted chicken we named "turkey." The chicken was really the most intimidating dish of the lot, considering that I had not yet purchased anything resembling raw animal flesh yet in China, I had never used the rotisserie function on my glorified toaster oven, and had never previously successfully roasted an entire member of the fowl family by myself without under cooking the inside and overcooking the outside. The adventure began when I first spotted the unusually large (by Chinese standards) chickens for sale at the Yonghui Supermarket. They fit all specifications for a western-style roast bird (already dead, plucked, gutted, plump breasts, feet removed) except that the animal still possessed a head. Not wanting to have to carry home an animal that I could still imagine looking at me, I mustered up my Chinese speaking ability (something I am rarely able to do successfully in the chaos of the Chinese supermarket) and spat out the following: "Wo yao na ge ji, keshi wo bu yao ji tou" or "I want that chicken, however I don't want chicken head." Magically, the woman understood me on the first try, grabbed my chicken, lopped off it's head with her cleaver (leaving the neck, but I wasn't about to complain), and proceeded to whisk me to the front of the meat scale line. Chicken purchasing success! I proudly carried my 35 odd pounds of groceries the 15 minute walk home.
Next, I researched several recipes and decided that my chicken deserved the following treatment: a thorough soaking in leftover cola from our Halloween party, a cavity stuffed with tangerines, red onion, garlic, bay leaf and celery greens, a liberal slathering of bacon grease (a good alternative when butter is hard to find), all tied and pinned together tightly with sewing thread and toothpicks (I couldn't find any non-polyester string for a proper binding), and finally stabbed with the rotisserie attachment of my toaster oven. Until the slowly rotating chicken firmed up with cooking, I was convinced that the thread and toothpicks wouldn't hold and my chicken would start flopping around in my oven any moment, but as it began to brown nicely, I was able to relax a bit and finish the mashed potatoes. When the chicken finally came out, it was nicely golden brown, still juicy, and smelled like something that might have been made in America. Richy carved it without a cleaver (neatly, in turkey-like slices), and for the first time in months, many of us ate a whole chunk of chicken without having to pick any shards of bone out! Chicken cooking success!
It was nice to be able to share the meal with our Chinese friends, who especially seemed to like the mashed potatoes, and prove to them that American cooking can be so much better and more interesting that what's on the menu at McDonalds and KFC. We also even got to stand around the table and hold hands and say what we're thankful for, which for me was being able to share the foods I love so much with new friends. It's hard being away from home for the holidays, but with a little bit of effort, I think we can make it worth the sacrifice.
~ Katie
In a typical week, Richy and I have 11-13 teaching hours and at least 10 hours of commuting time. That doesn't include lesson planning or grading, English Corner, meetings, office hours, or the extra time the commute takes when the city is in the midst of a massive diesel shortage. Our 45-50 minute commute each way has turned into 60-90 minutes, on occasion up to 2 hours. Long lines of cement trucks, long haulers, tractor trailers, cattle trucks and buses clog the roadways around any gas station with a supply of diesel. Many of these stations are near expressway exits, leading the line of vehicles to block major commuter roads. Men directing traffic in orange vests have appeared, and in some cases, traffic cones have been deployed, which eases some of the congestion. All this is little comfort to us who now commute for more hours each week than we teach. For a while, I used the commute to grade papers, but my students complained about their inability to read my jumpy handwriting, and forget about trying to finish my Chinese writing homework. I have a hard enough time writing the characters sitting perfectly still. I have learned to identify which driver is operating the vehicle before I choose my seat. I prefer to sit in the middle of the bus if it's one of the crazy ones, that way if we rear-end someone or get rear-ended I will hopefully be outside the crunch zone. If we have the sane, kindly-faced bus driver (who happens to look like Chow Yun Fat) then I can sit where I please. No matter who is driving the bus however, you can bet we will hit the same pothole everyday on the same overpass, going at least 40 mph. If the driver is crazy enough, we'll be going faster, which launches everyone on the bus 6 inches above their seat for a moment. Despite the roller coaster commute, you can examine the faces of Chinese passengers and drivers alike, and you will find no hint of malice, surprise or even anxiety. Everyone just looks bored, sleepy or as if meditating. The only time you will hear a peep out of our fellow passengers in regard to the driving, is a slight gasp if it seems that were are actually about to crash into something and the drivers brakes have locked up.
Needless to say, we have been very keen on rumors about when the teachers' housing on campus might open up. We had heard that most teachers would be able to move onto campus in the summer/fall of 2011. Although we hadn't mentioned it yet to our foreign relations office, we told our program manager on our site visit that we were interested in moving onto the campus as soon as possible. Considering the fact that we are supposed to start implementing secondary projects next term, we weren't really sure how we were supposed to find the time, wedged into bus seats 10+ hours a week, and living an hour away from the students we are supposed to be supporting and building community with. Our amazing program manager, after the requisite meeting with the school, advocated for us and learned that a few apartments on campus were in fact already available, and that we would be able to go take a look at them this very week. Upon further discussion with our waiban liaison, I discovered that they were not only willing to let us move onto the campus, but to let us keep our city apartment for staying in the city on the weekends! Although it will be a stretch on our budget to furnish a second apartment, we are hoping that eliminating the dreaded commute from our lives will make us more happy, healthy, and most of all, safe from China car accident #2 (if you recall, we experienced China car accident #1 back in July in a Chengdu cab).
On a more positive note, Richy and I successfully hosted a "mini-Thanksgiving" celebration last weekend, which turned out to not be so "mini" since we had 20+ guests (about evenly split between fellow PCVs and Chinese nationals). I pushed myself to the limits of my Chinese-ingredient-fueled American cooking abilities with: a pumpkin pie, a dutch apple pie, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole (I even had to make the french fried onions from scratch), homemade ginger ale, apple walnut stuffing, and a roasted chicken we named "turkey." The chicken was really the most intimidating dish of the lot, considering that I had not yet purchased anything resembling raw animal flesh yet in China, I had never used the rotisserie function on my glorified toaster oven, and had never previously successfully roasted an entire member of the fowl family by myself without under cooking the inside and overcooking the outside. The adventure began when I first spotted the unusually large (by Chinese standards) chickens for sale at the Yonghui Supermarket. They fit all specifications for a western-style roast bird (already dead, plucked, gutted, plump breasts, feet removed) except that the animal still possessed a head. Not wanting to have to carry home an animal that I could still imagine looking at me, I mustered up my Chinese speaking ability (something I am rarely able to do successfully in the chaos of the Chinese supermarket) and spat out the following: "Wo yao na ge ji, keshi wo bu yao ji tou" or "I want that chicken, however I don't want chicken head." Magically, the woman understood me on the first try, grabbed my chicken, lopped off it's head with her cleaver (leaving the neck, but I wasn't about to complain), and proceeded to whisk me to the front of the meat scale line. Chicken purchasing success! I proudly carried my 35 odd pounds of groceries the 15 minute walk home.
Next, I researched several recipes and decided that my chicken deserved the following treatment: a thorough soaking in leftover cola from our Halloween party, a cavity stuffed with tangerines, red onion, garlic, bay leaf and celery greens, a liberal slathering of bacon grease (a good alternative when butter is hard to find), all tied and pinned together tightly with sewing thread and toothpicks (I couldn't find any non-polyester string for a proper binding), and finally stabbed with the rotisserie attachment of my toaster oven. Until the slowly rotating chicken firmed up with cooking, I was convinced that the thread and toothpicks wouldn't hold and my chicken would start flopping around in my oven any moment, but as it began to brown nicely, I was able to relax a bit and finish the mashed potatoes. When the chicken finally came out, it was nicely golden brown, still juicy, and smelled like something that might have been made in America. Richy carved it without a cleaver (neatly, in turkey-like slices), and for the first time in months, many of us ate a whole chunk of chicken without having to pick any shards of bone out! Chicken cooking success!
It was nice to be able to share the meal with our Chinese friends, who especially seemed to like the mashed potatoes, and prove to them that American cooking can be so much better and more interesting that what's on the menu at McDonalds and KFC. We also even got to stand around the table and hold hands and say what we're thankful for, which for me was being able to share the foods I love so much with new friends. It's hard being away from home for the holidays, but with a little bit of effort, I think we can make it worth the sacrifice.
~ Katie
7.11.10
Letters to America
A couple weeks ago, I asked my three writing classes of about 30 students each to write letters to school kids in America. I have been working with them for weeks on writing stuff with meaning and interest, but I still often got essays on why "college students should not date, but focus more on their studies" in response to narrative prompts about sharing childhood memories or describing how they ended up attending our college. American students don't need a second invitation to write about themselves, but my Chinese students seem to think "why would anyone want to read about me?" and thus commence with writing essays about moralistic topics they think I want to hear about. When I gave them interesting magazine clippings to use as inspiration to write a descriptive piece, many of them began, "the picture shows..." instead of using their imagination to make up a story based on the picture. On a few occasions, however, my students have brought me nearly to tears with amazing stories about growing up in villages with no running water and electricity, about watching a young friend die of cancer, of their parents' punishment for falsifying test scores, and of the challenges of moving away from their close knit families to live in a six bed dorm on a campus of over 18,000 students.
So I was impressed in reading my students' letters to American kids. They were excited at the opportunity to be able to represent their country (they hear that China gets a bad rap over in the states) and tried to dispel some myths. Before having them write the letters, I showed them a video I found on Youtube with a Leno-style sidewalk quiz asking Americans and Chinese people on the streets to identify popular American and Chinese icons. Of course most Americans thought Mao Zedong was Kim Jong Il, and most Chinese people had no idea who Jesus was. The clip was both hilarious and eye opening about how little we really understand about each others' culture. I also shared with them some commonly displayed stereotypes in movies about China: that everyone knows Kung Fu, how people dress, that China is ancient and mysterious, etc. I decided not to put any ideas in their heads about Chinese stereotypes about America, hoping that their own ideas would come through in their writing, and they certainly did. Most of my students began by introducing themselves and their hometowns, moving on to detailed descriptions of local dishes (particularly hot pot) and important festivals (particularly Spring Festival) many of them used the literary conventions I taught them and some moved on into missives about China's peaceful nature and how beautiful it is. Some students even bragged about Chongqing's clean air (I hope they were referring to the countryside?). Many talked about the pros, cons and details of the "one child policy," (sometimes using language not entirely appropriate for use in a classroom), and how not all Chinese people are good at math and know Kung Fu. Some detailed the struggles of being a student in the high-stakes, competitive Chinese education system, and their envy for American high school kids who don't have to attend class well into the evening and on Saturdays.
In expressing their views about America, here were some of the gems:
"America is a rich country which the economy increase fastly. When talking about America, the first sight in my mind is the NBA sports. I like it so much, especially the Huston Rockets. So long as there is a NBA live of Huston Rockets, I will never give up. The NBA sports is a symbolic of sports, it marks strong, enthusiasm, exilent, speed and competitiveness. I am so crazy to like it. Sometime I often image myself a NBA superstar. When having a beautiful behavior in the NBA match, I dream it very much. Watching NBA match for me is not only a hobby but also is a crazy pursuit."
"It's truth that your parents allow you to have a boyfriend or girlfriend even you are only ten years old? What you eat? Only fast food?"
"Sometimes, we really admire your life. Because you can make decision by yourselves after you have grown up. In China, parents always prepare everything for their children, no matter how old are we. Parents still regard us as children in their mind. It's so boring."
"In my mind, America is a modern country and I like the West of America. It's a place full of energy and freedom. By the way, I like American cars, especially Jeep Wrangler. And I know it's legal to have a gun. Does everyone like war in you country? Why do you need a gun? It's cool but dangerous."
"I'm very interested in the sucker in your culture. I watched a lot of movies about it. I know the most famous sucker is called Dracula. It is very powerful and full of energy."
"I know the America's med-term elections is coming. There are many advertisement in television and other medias. But most of them are attack China. I am very disappointed about this. I only want to say China's growing up is not America's threaten."
"Recently, I have seen some classic American films. From these films, I learn that the drug is very common among students. Is it true? Do you everyone has talent on dancing and singing. Do you go to McDonald's everyday? Do you eat sandwiches everyday? Is it true that you don't pay the tuition when you go to the school? Among these films, "mission impossible" is my favorite. Most of my classmate admire Tom Cruise. Is he very popular in America?"
It's a bit disturbing to see the ideas my students get from watching movies about America, but it's also good that they are willing to come out and ask the questions. It puts the crazy questions people ask us sometimes in context. There is so much about daily life in China and America that is hard to convey to someone who has never experienced it firsthand.
~Katie
So I was impressed in reading my students' letters to American kids. They were excited at the opportunity to be able to represent their country (they hear that China gets a bad rap over in the states) and tried to dispel some myths. Before having them write the letters, I showed them a video I found on Youtube with a Leno-style sidewalk quiz asking Americans and Chinese people on the streets to identify popular American and Chinese icons. Of course most Americans thought Mao Zedong was Kim Jong Il, and most Chinese people had no idea who Jesus was. The clip was both hilarious and eye opening about how little we really understand about each others' culture. I also shared with them some commonly displayed stereotypes in movies about China: that everyone knows Kung Fu, how people dress, that China is ancient and mysterious, etc. I decided not to put any ideas in their heads about Chinese stereotypes about America, hoping that their own ideas would come through in their writing, and they certainly did. Most of my students began by introducing themselves and their hometowns, moving on to detailed descriptions of local dishes (particularly hot pot) and important festivals (particularly Spring Festival) many of them used the literary conventions I taught them and some moved on into missives about China's peaceful nature and how beautiful it is. Some students even bragged about Chongqing's clean air (I hope they were referring to the countryside?). Many talked about the pros, cons and details of the "one child policy," (sometimes using language not entirely appropriate for use in a classroom), and how not all Chinese people are good at math and know Kung Fu. Some detailed the struggles of being a student in the high-stakes, competitive Chinese education system, and their envy for American high school kids who don't have to attend class well into the evening and on Saturdays.
In expressing their views about America, here were some of the gems:
"America is a rich country which the economy increase fastly. When talking about America, the first sight in my mind is the NBA sports. I like it so much, especially the Huston Rockets. So long as there is a NBA live of Huston Rockets, I will never give up. The NBA sports is a symbolic of sports, it marks strong, enthusiasm, exilent, speed and competitiveness. I am so crazy to like it. Sometime I often image myself a NBA superstar. When having a beautiful behavior in the NBA match, I dream it very much. Watching NBA match for me is not only a hobby but also is a crazy pursuit."
"It's truth that your parents allow you to have a boyfriend or girlfriend even you are only ten years old? What you eat? Only fast food?"
"Sometimes, we really admire your life. Because you can make decision by yourselves after you have grown up. In China, parents always prepare everything for their children, no matter how old are we. Parents still regard us as children in their mind. It's so boring."
"In my mind, America is a modern country and I like the West of America. It's a place full of energy and freedom. By the way, I like American cars, especially Jeep Wrangler. And I know it's legal to have a gun. Does everyone like war in you country? Why do you need a gun? It's cool but dangerous."
"I'm very interested in the sucker in your culture. I watched a lot of movies about it. I know the most famous sucker is called Dracula. It is very powerful and full of energy."
"I know the America's med-term elections is coming. There are many advertisement in television and other medias. But most of them are attack China. I am very disappointed about this. I only want to say China's growing up is not America's threaten."
"Recently, I have seen some classic American films. From these films, I learn that the drug is very common among students. Is it true? Do you everyone has talent on dancing and singing. Do you go to McDonald's everyday? Do you eat sandwiches everyday? Is it true that you don't pay the tuition when you go to the school? Among these films, "mission impossible" is my favorite. Most of my classmate admire Tom Cruise. Is he very popular in America?"
It's a bit disturbing to see the ideas my students get from watching movies about America, but it's also good that they are willing to come out and ask the questions. It puts the crazy questions people ask us sometimes in context. There is so much about daily life in China and America that is hard to convey to someone who has never experienced it firsthand.
~Katie
18.10.10
Hoops?
We were warned at one of the health sessions during our pre-service training that a major source of PCV injury is playing basketball in China. It's likely that basketball can be a dangerous sport in any country, but there is something about playing basketball in a country where the concept of the "personal bubble" is pure fantasy. Living in such a crowded place, you really can't help but touch people all the time: walking down the sidewalk, standing on the bus, standing in line at the grocery store, wandering through shops in tourist areas, etc. It gets to the point where you forget you even once had a bubble (like starting to forget you once had a car), except when the person in your bubble is holding a lit cigarette, has particularly bad body odor, or seems to be screaming into a cell phone. This inherent lack of a personal space concept leads to particularly rough and rowdy games of basketball.
Basketball seems to hold a certain allure in China. I have a few students who have given themselves English names of "Kobe" "Bryant" or just all out "Kobe Bryant." The letters N-B-A grace all kinds of clothing products (none of which I am sure are actually licensed to use the acronym). There is even a TV reality show dedicated to finding a new Chinese member for the Orlando Magic Dancers (the show is worth watching simply to see the size and muscle tone difference between the American and Chinese dancers - think GI Joe vs. Barbie). Basketball seems to be the ultimate American sport in the Chinese lens, and as such I am expected to be able to discuss details of it at length with some of my more outgoing male students. I usually get as far as saying that I have heard of Kobe Bryant (during his rape allegations scandal) and that my sister played basketball in high school before being met with downtrodden looks of disappointment. We have heard the basketball phenomenon explained in various ways by our Chinese colleagues and students: "China does not have enough water resources to maintain soccer fields so basketball is becoming more popular," "basketball courts require less space than soccer fields," and my favorite, "Asians like small balls, while Americans like big balls" (referring to the difference between ping pong and basketball, of course). But our experience of the Chinese basketball craze did not fully come into focus until we were asked to play for the Foreign Languages Department in the all-school department tournament a few weeks ago.
We are American. We are, on average, taller than most of the other players. Unfortunately these two simple facts do not make up for the speed, agility, aim and knowledge of game play required to actually win games. No matter. Apparently making it out of the court alive and without injury is enough of a victory in this tournament. My department's first game was against the stout and burly women of the mechanics department. I was one of the two star players of the five-woman team simply by virtue of footwear: the other three women on our team were wearing pumps. I tried to make myself look like I was playing basketball by running back and forth around the court and waving my arms wildly in front of anyone on the other team who had the ball. We lost 32-4.
Richy's first game was a little more competitive, but unfortunately I was not present to witness it. They lost by only one point, and apparently Richy was the only one on the team interested in playing defense. His second and final game (which I did witness) was against the security department, and in that case, they lost by a considerably larger margin. The men seemed in high spirits despite their losses - apparently last year there were head injuries and stitches, so a simple defeat by points is a kind of victory.
As for our second womens' game, we played the mathematics department. This time, one of my teammates got the idea of translating the game strategy for me. People showed up in athletic shoes. I was told we actually had a chance. We managed to knock the glasses off their star player several times, we played hard defense, and I made our team's solitary basket for a loss of 4-2. Unfortunately our loss was a loss in every sense, as our team captain ended up hobbling off the court with a groin sprain. We have our last game tomorrow afternoon - Foreign Language vs. Information Systems. I hope I can make it off the court alive... Hao Qiu!
~ Katie
We are American. We are, on average, taller than most of the other players. Unfortunately these two simple facts do not make up for the speed, agility, aim and knowledge of game play required to actually win games. No matter. Apparently making it out of the court alive and without injury is enough of a victory in this tournament. My department's first game was against the stout and burly women of the mechanics department. I was one of the two star players of the five-woman team simply by virtue of footwear: the other three women on our team were wearing pumps. I tried to make myself look like I was playing basketball by running back and forth around the court and waving my arms wildly in front of anyone on the other team who had the ball. We lost 32-4.
Richy's first game was a little more competitive, but unfortunately I was not present to witness it. They lost by only one point, and apparently Richy was the only one on the team interested in playing defense. His second and final game (which I did witness) was against the security department, and in that case, they lost by a considerably larger margin. The men seemed in high spirits despite their losses - apparently last year there were head injuries and stitches, so a simple defeat by points is a kind of victory.
As for our second womens' game, we played the mathematics department. This time, one of my teammates got the idea of translating the game strategy for me. People showed up in athletic shoes. I was told we actually had a chance. We managed to knock the glasses off their star player several times, we played hard defense, and I made our team's solitary basket for a loss of 4-2. Unfortunately our loss was a loss in every sense, as our team captain ended up hobbling off the court with a groin sprain. We have our last game tomorrow afternoon - Foreign Language vs. Information Systems. I hope I can make it off the court alive... Hao Qiu!
~ Katie
8.10.10
Growing Like Weeds
The building we can see outside our kitchen window has grown more than six floors - from four to almost eleven - in the month or so that we have been living here. By contrast, my basil seedlings have only grown four millimeters. The rate of construction and growth in this city can easily be described as astounding. Apparently we are witnessing the birth of a megalopolis, and I find myself wondering if this is what it would have felt like to live in Seoul in the 1980's. We awake every morning to the sounds of it, we wander around the mazes of scaffolding, and shield ourselves from the sparks and flashes of the welders at work. I picked up a metro map for the city light rail line the other day, expecting to see the route for the one finished subway line, instead I had to search for it amid the ten other lines planned that are already on the map. On my hour-long bus ride to work each day I watch old businesses close and new ones open, old buildings go down as new high rises become steadily filled with residents. It's a bit mind-boggling living in such a place.
Despite the dizzying pace of this city, we are slowly learning to discover peaceful (if not quiet) moments, sometimes on the bus in the misty mornings, watching the skyscrapers turn to mountains and farm fields and back again. Sometimes in a garden on top of a mountain on a weekend afternoon, sometimes, just sitting in our apartment, when the late afternoon sunlight cuts an angle over the high rises and illuminates the dust dancing slowly in the air. We are also finding activities and routines that help bring calm into our days: friendly local restaurants, walks around the campus between classes, and finding places where we can just sit and read or watch everything pass by. Of course, we have to make compromises. Silence and privacy are two Western values we simply must learn to live without most of the time. I am trying to master the image of hammers and cement mixers as crickets...
This last week China celebrated October 1st, their national holiday. Unfortunately we missed the parades on TV and the fireworks displays, but we made good use of our time off with a visit to one of the main tourist attractions in Chongqing, Ciqikou, and a three day trip to visit friends in Yibin, Sichuan. Ciqikou reminded me of a state fair set with an ancient Chinese backdrop, with amazing snack foods, lots of trinkets for sale and even carnival games and rides. Of course, how often do you get to visit a 1,600 year old temple in the middle of a state fair? Our mistake was going during the holiday, which meant we had to ride a wave of human bodies throughout, but if you get over the whole personal space thing and avoid getting pick-pocketed, it can be kind of fun in a way. Yibin was sleepy by comparison, but that was fine since the main attraction was reuniting with some of our friends from pre-service training. It feels good to let off steam and spend a few days laughing and comparing notes.
The weather has been amazing lately, with the last of the heat giving way to occasional drizzle and highs in the low 70's. The air doesn't seem to singe the lungs quite as much and I think if we have just a few more gorgeous, comfortable days China just might win me over.
- Katie
PS. Over 3,000 page views! Of course, our blog is almost 5 years old now, but it's motivating to know that people read it.
Despite the dizzying pace of this city, we are slowly learning to discover peaceful (if not quiet) moments, sometimes on the bus in the misty mornings, watching the skyscrapers turn to mountains and farm fields and back again. Sometimes in a garden on top of a mountain on a weekend afternoon, sometimes, just sitting in our apartment, when the late afternoon sunlight cuts an angle over the high rises and illuminates the dust dancing slowly in the air. We are also finding activities and routines that help bring calm into our days: friendly local restaurants, walks around the campus between classes, and finding places where we can just sit and read or watch everything pass by. Of course, we have to make compromises. Silence and privacy are two Western values we simply must learn to live without most of the time. I am trying to master the image of hammers and cement mixers as crickets...
This last week China celebrated October 1st, their national holiday. Unfortunately we missed the parades on TV and the fireworks displays, but we made good use of our time off with a visit to one of the main tourist attractions in Chongqing, Ciqikou, and a three day trip to visit friends in Yibin, Sichuan. Ciqikou reminded me of a state fair set with an ancient Chinese backdrop, with amazing snack foods, lots of trinkets for sale and even carnival games and rides. Of course, how often do you get to visit a 1,600 year old temple in the middle of a state fair? Our mistake was going during the holiday, which meant we had to ride a wave of human bodies throughout, but if you get over the whole personal space thing and avoid getting pick-pocketed, it can be kind of fun in a way. Yibin was sleepy by comparison, but that was fine since the main attraction was reuniting with some of our friends from pre-service training. It feels good to let off steam and spend a few days laughing and comparing notes.
The weather has been amazing lately, with the last of the heat giving way to occasional drizzle and highs in the low 70's. The air doesn't seem to singe the lungs quite as much and I think if we have just a few more gorgeous, comfortable days China just might win me over.
- Katie
PS. Over 3,000 page views! Of course, our blog is almost 5 years old now, but it's motivating to know that people read it.
20.9.10
The Boiling Bus
After a continuation of our utility misadventures over the weekend, an interesting "Brazilian" style buffet experience (it was delicious, I just don't think it was in any way Brazilian), and a full day of teaching on Sunday, we started off our Monday looking forward to Wednesday, Thursday and Friday off and getting our school bus cards (finally!). The previous week, our waiban liaison (person in the foreign affairs office responsible for dealing with us) informed us that we were to attend a Monday morning meeting at 9:30 to take care of some administrative stuff (like getting our bus cards, passports returned, etc). By Monday the administrative meeting had turned into an official all-foreigners-at-the-school get together, and by the time we arrived, apparently a Mid-Autumn Festival social event with the school president.
All-the-foreigners-at-the-school of 18,000 some-odd students consists of 5 foreign teachers (Richy and I included) and 3 Korean exchange students, for a total of 8 non-Chinese people wandering around. The meeting was quite pleasant: there were Korean, US and Chinese flags adorning the table, the president gave some little speeches about how much he appreciates us being here away from our families at the mid Autumn festival when people usually go home (no problem, it's not our holiday! Thank us when Thanksgiving and Christmas roll around), we were served tea and snacks, given a short presentation about the meaning and origins of the holiday, and then each given a lovely (and likely expensive) box of moon cakes! We were also invited to what sounds to be a swanky banquet hosted by the mayor of Chongqing for all the foreign teachers in the municipality on the 29th (read: reunion with all our training site pals who are spread about Chongqing)! Our former PCV colleague says last years was a lot of fun.
A little background on the holiday that I can pass on to the folks back home: Mid-Autumn Festival falls on the 15th day of the 8th month in the lunar calendar (hence a mid-autumn festival at the time we usually perceive as the beginning of fall), and is the traditional Chinese celebration of the harvest. It always takes place on a full moon, and therefore one of the activities associated with the holiday is moon watching while eating dense, round, ornate cakes filled with any combination of bean paste, chocolate, egg yolks, lotus seeds, nuts, citrus rinds, apple jelly, etc, etc. The most traditional kind has a golden outer crust with characters for happiness, good luck and prosperity embossed on the top, while inside dark red bean paste and whole egg yolks await (more egg yolks means more good luck). I personally prefer the more non traditional kinds with nuts and chocolate and fruits inside. There is also a story about a mythical couple in ancient times, who were granted a pill that would make them both live forever, but only if they each ate only half. Eating the whole pill would make the eater have to live alone for eternity as an immortal. Apparently when the husband was away, a bad guy threatened the woman (Chang'e is her name) with a knife because he wanted the pill for himself. Instead of handing it over, she ate the whole thing herself and ended up being banished to the moon as an immortal. So apparently that story is part of the reason for paying reverence to the moon this time of year. There are other versions of the story, but this is the version people have told us in this particular part of China.
It should be noted that we are currently in the midst of a heat wave, of the kind Chongqing seems well known for. It is one of the "four furnaces" after all! The past few days have been experienced either drenched in sweat or sitting in front of our new air conditioner (and I had previously thought it came too late in the season to be useful - ha!). So after the meeting, as the day was starting to heat up, I went to go teach my writing class. When I asked the students how their weekend was, to which they usually respond with incoherent mutters, they all resoundingly announced "HOT!" Which gave me quite a chuckle. We conducted class amidst the din of revolving ceiling fans (I think there are 8 in my classroom, and it really does make it hard to hear their shy English). After class, Richy and I met up for lunch, after which Richy went to go catch the 1 pm bus back to campus, while I stayed, planning to teach another writing class in the afternoon. When I entered the foreign teacher's office to drop off some of my things I didn't want to lug up to the fourth floor in the heat, my surprised Chinese counterpart teacher, William asked me why I was still on campus. I told him I had class that afternoon. But hadn't I heard that classes were canceled because of the heat? It was announced last night. Of course, it was announced on the school website in Chinese, and nobody thought to tell us, so no. I might have been upset about it, except that it meant I could go home early and avoid another sweltering two hours of class.
The next school bus wasn't scheduled to leave until 3:30, so the only option was to take the public bus, which usually takes a little longer, but costs the same and thankfully runs more often. Now luckily before we left University Town (the area where all the universities from the city center have been relocated because of cheaper land and the ability of the schools to sell off their high priced parcels at the city center) an enterprising young man asked the bus driver to board for a few minutes to sell us iced beverages out of a bucket. I knew we had an hour ride ahead of us in 100+ F heat and inadequate air conditioning, so I bought a large sports beverage. I don't know how I would have survived the next two and a half hour ordeal with out it. I should have realized there was a problem when I noticed a conspicuously large, blue 50 gallon drum of water strapped into the bus behind the driver (exactly the kind of thing I have been teaching myself not to get too quizzical about here). Tubes came from the drum and into an equally conspicuous large hole in the dashboard. As we got underway, with a full load of passengers, the bus began to make loud screeching noises which no one seemed too alarmed by. As frequent loud noises are the custom in China, I too gave no outward indication of alarm, although I realize in retrospect I probably should have taken a seat further away from the hole in the dashboard. Traveling further, the noise became louder, especially when going up hills. The bus driver suspiciously stopped driving like a typical Chinese bus driver and began cautiously merging to the right and taking it easy on the gas pedal. My attention was increasingly drawn to the steam rising from hole in the dashboard. Midway up a particularly steep hill (and Chongqing is quite a hilly city) the screeching turned to screaming and suddenly the hole in the dashboard erupted in a fountain of steam and boiling water. Luckily I was out of range of the first spurt, and had time to move back before becoming scalded, while the bus driver continued up the hill. Meanwhile the bus geyser boiled more violently, spattering the whole front of the bus with water and coolant and steaming up the windshield. When we finally reached the top of the hill, the bus driver decided we had broken down at that point, and pulled to the side of the expressway. Several passengers rushed to the front (despite the now-subsiding geyser) and interrogated the bus driver about various destinations. Many of them immediately exited and seemed to know where they were going.
I of course knew where we were generally (I could see the roof of a stadium nearby our neighborhood) but had no idea how to get off the expressway safely or how long it would take me to get home, laden with my school bag and boxes of moon cakes in staggering heat. So I stayed on the bus with three other wary passengers as the bus driver argued with someone on the phone and investigated the situation from outside the bus. We were parked in the full sun, and now with the meager air conditioning off in a bus full of radiator steam, I found solace in my large, cold sports beverage. After several minutes I realized that despite my heat-induced fatigue, I needed to whip out my Chinese language skills and figure out what the heck was going on (partly because I could hear the bus driver refer to "the foreigner" in his heated conversation). I asked the only remaining female on the bus where she was going, and in her heat-induced fatigue didn't really seem keen on reconstructing the bad Chinese I was spewing. After a few minutes, she surmised where I was going and got the attention of the bus driver, who was still arguing on the phone. "Ni yao qu Jie Fang Bei ma? Wo bu qu Jie Fang Bei." (You want to go to Jie Fang Bei? I not go to Jie Fang Bei) "Bu, bu yao qu Jie Fang Bei. Wo yao qu Shi You Lu." (No, not want to go to Jie Fang Bei, I want to go to Petroleum Road) "Oh! Keyi!" (Oh! Okay!) And with that he hung up the phone, got back on the bus, grabbed a hidden canister of water from the back of the bus, dumped it in the hole in the dashboard, and again started the engine, to the surprise of the two high school students who had decided to wait outside the bus. They quickly jumped back on the bus as we sped off down the hill. The bus usually goes all the way to Jie Fang Bei, about 30 minutes' drive further than my stop. I guess he didn't think he could make it there, but I'm glad he could make it to Petroleum Road.
All-the-foreigners-at-the-school of 18,000 some-odd students consists of 5 foreign teachers (Richy and I included) and 3 Korean exchange students, for a total of 8 non-Chinese people wandering around. The meeting was quite pleasant: there were Korean, US and Chinese flags adorning the table, the president gave some little speeches about how much he appreciates us being here away from our families at the mid Autumn festival when people usually go home (no problem, it's not our holiday! Thank us when Thanksgiving and Christmas roll around), we were served tea and snacks, given a short presentation about the meaning and origins of the holiday, and then each given a lovely (and likely expensive) box of moon cakes! We were also invited to what sounds to be a swanky banquet hosted by the mayor of Chongqing for all the foreign teachers in the municipality on the 29th (read: reunion with all our training site pals who are spread about Chongqing)! Our former PCV colleague says last years was a lot of fun.
A little background on the holiday that I can pass on to the folks back home: Mid-Autumn Festival falls on the 15th day of the 8th month in the lunar calendar (hence a mid-autumn festival at the time we usually perceive as the beginning of fall), and is the traditional Chinese celebration of the harvest. It always takes place on a full moon, and therefore one of the activities associated with the holiday is moon watching while eating dense, round, ornate cakes filled with any combination of bean paste, chocolate, egg yolks, lotus seeds, nuts, citrus rinds, apple jelly, etc, etc. The most traditional kind has a golden outer crust with characters for happiness, good luck and prosperity embossed on the top, while inside dark red bean paste and whole egg yolks await (more egg yolks means more good luck). I personally prefer the more non traditional kinds with nuts and chocolate and fruits inside. There is also a story about a mythical couple in ancient times, who were granted a pill that would make them both live forever, but only if they each ate only half. Eating the whole pill would make the eater have to live alone for eternity as an immortal. Apparently when the husband was away, a bad guy threatened the woman (Chang'e is her name) with a knife because he wanted the pill for himself. Instead of handing it over, she ate the whole thing herself and ended up being banished to the moon as an immortal. So apparently that story is part of the reason for paying reverence to the moon this time of year. There are other versions of the story, but this is the version people have told us in this particular part of China.
It should be noted that we are currently in the midst of a heat wave, of the kind Chongqing seems well known for. It is one of the "four furnaces" after all! The past few days have been experienced either drenched in sweat or sitting in front of our new air conditioner (and I had previously thought it came too late in the season to be useful - ha!). So after the meeting, as the day was starting to heat up, I went to go teach my writing class. When I asked the students how their weekend was, to which they usually respond with incoherent mutters, they all resoundingly announced "HOT!" Which gave me quite a chuckle. We conducted class amidst the din of revolving ceiling fans (I think there are 8 in my classroom, and it really does make it hard to hear their shy English). After class, Richy and I met up for lunch, after which Richy went to go catch the 1 pm bus back to campus, while I stayed, planning to teach another writing class in the afternoon. When I entered the foreign teacher's office to drop off some of my things I didn't want to lug up to the fourth floor in the heat, my surprised Chinese counterpart teacher, William asked me why I was still on campus. I told him I had class that afternoon. But hadn't I heard that classes were canceled because of the heat? It was announced last night. Of course, it was announced on the school website in Chinese, and nobody thought to tell us, so no. I might have been upset about it, except that it meant I could go home early and avoid another sweltering two hours of class.
The next school bus wasn't scheduled to leave until 3:30, so the only option was to take the public bus, which usually takes a little longer, but costs the same and thankfully runs more often. Now luckily before we left University Town (the area where all the universities from the city center have been relocated because of cheaper land and the ability of the schools to sell off their high priced parcels at the city center) an enterprising young man asked the bus driver to board for a few minutes to sell us iced beverages out of a bucket. I knew we had an hour ride ahead of us in 100+ F heat and inadequate air conditioning, so I bought a large sports beverage. I don't know how I would have survived the next two and a half hour ordeal with out it. I should have realized there was a problem when I noticed a conspicuously large, blue 50 gallon drum of water strapped into the bus behind the driver (exactly the kind of thing I have been teaching myself not to get too quizzical about here). Tubes came from the drum and into an equally conspicuous large hole in the dashboard. As we got underway, with a full load of passengers, the bus began to make loud screeching noises which no one seemed too alarmed by. As frequent loud noises are the custom in China, I too gave no outward indication of alarm, although I realize in retrospect I probably should have taken a seat further away from the hole in the dashboard. Traveling further, the noise became louder, especially when going up hills. The bus driver suspiciously stopped driving like a typical Chinese bus driver and began cautiously merging to the right and taking it easy on the gas pedal. My attention was increasingly drawn to the steam rising from hole in the dashboard. Midway up a particularly steep hill (and Chongqing is quite a hilly city) the screeching turned to screaming and suddenly the hole in the dashboard erupted in a fountain of steam and boiling water. Luckily I was out of range of the first spurt, and had time to move back before becoming scalded, while the bus driver continued up the hill. Meanwhile the bus geyser boiled more violently, spattering the whole front of the bus with water and coolant and steaming up the windshield. When we finally reached the top of the hill, the bus driver decided we had broken down at that point, and pulled to the side of the expressway. Several passengers rushed to the front (despite the now-subsiding geyser) and interrogated the bus driver about various destinations. Many of them immediately exited and seemed to know where they were going.
I of course knew where we were generally (I could see the roof of a stadium nearby our neighborhood) but had no idea how to get off the expressway safely or how long it would take me to get home, laden with my school bag and boxes of moon cakes in staggering heat. So I stayed on the bus with three other wary passengers as the bus driver argued with someone on the phone and investigated the situation from outside the bus. We were parked in the full sun, and now with the meager air conditioning off in a bus full of radiator steam, I found solace in my large, cold sports beverage. After several minutes I realized that despite my heat-induced fatigue, I needed to whip out my Chinese language skills and figure out what the heck was going on (partly because I could hear the bus driver refer to "the foreigner" in his heated conversation). I asked the only remaining female on the bus where she was going, and in her heat-induced fatigue didn't really seem keen on reconstructing the bad Chinese I was spewing. After a few minutes, she surmised where I was going and got the attention of the bus driver, who was still arguing on the phone. "Ni yao qu Jie Fang Bei ma? Wo bu qu Jie Fang Bei." (You want to go to Jie Fang Bei? I not go to Jie Fang Bei) "Bu, bu yao qu Jie Fang Bei. Wo yao qu Shi You Lu." (No, not want to go to Jie Fang Bei, I want to go to Petroleum Road) "Oh! Keyi!" (Oh! Okay!) And with that he hung up the phone, got back on the bus, grabbed a hidden canister of water from the back of the bus, dumped it in the hole in the dashboard, and again started the engine, to the surprise of the two high school students who had decided to wait outside the bus. They quickly jumped back on the bus as we sped off down the hill. The bus usually goes all the way to Jie Fang Bei, about 30 minutes' drive further than my stop. I guess he didn't think he could make it there, but I'm glad he could make it to Petroleum Road.
15.9.10
Zui Jin Zenmeyang?
How's it going lately? It's been up and down. I'll take you on an episodic breakdown of our lives in the past week or so:
Up: Last week marked our second week of class. We were pleased to have a light schedule and things starting to settle down in the apartment. We realized that the cupboard was full of cookies, crackers and noodles and if we didn't figure out the vegetable shopping situation we'd be suffering carbohydrate overload. The supermarkets here are convenient, but the produce is a little frightening and often features cockroaches scattering when you move the fruit around. I set out to brave one of the crowded fruit and vegetable stands down a nearby alleyway. The produce is tantalizingly fresh and well cared for, but also surrounded by a harried mob of Chinese shoppers. I pushed my way in, observing the pandemonium from above (I'm tall in China!) and found that people were grabbing large plastic baskets from a pile and filling them with vegetables. I grabbed a basket and started poking around the offerings. I realized that the section of the crowd nearest the scale was actually some kind of line. So after I filled my basket with somewhat familiar vegetable items: carrots, green onions, bai cai (aka. bok choi), and eggplant. Then I pushed and shoved my way toward the scale. As I approached, I realized there was a technique to getting your stuff on the scale: hold your hand over the vegetables already on the scale, and when the other produce gets shoved into the bag, plop down your stuff before anyone else can! Which is what I did after a couple tries. I only had to ask the vendor to repeat the price once! I felt quite proud of myself as we settled down to our first real home cooked dinner of stir fried veggies and rice.
Down: Wednesday was a bit stressful as Richy learned via email that morning that a new three hour listening and speaking class had been added to his schedule - to be taught that very afternoon! So much for having a day off together in the middle of the week. After we called some folks in our department to figure out exactly what was going on (the original email didn't even include a room number), we found out that a Chinese English teacher had resigned the previous week and that Richy had been assigned his class. Richy was able to scrape enough material together to keep the class occupied for three hours. Way to keep us on our toes China!
Up: The weekend gave us an opportunity to get together with other PCV pals in the Jie Fang Bei area for an evening of beers, snacks and chats. But not before we got to take a four and a half hour self-guided walking tour of the city! We walked all the way from our house in Da Ping, along the Yangtze River (where we saw the brown-water-braving members of the Yangtze River Winter Swimming Club out for a little afternoon dip) and up the countless flights of stairs to Jie Fang Bei and the oddly pirate-themed "historic" area of Hong Ya Dong. We also entertained our first overnight visitor in our apartment, which forced me to actually straighten up the apartment as a whole, which made me realize how much progress we've made in making it livable.
Down: Third week of class begins while the two of us are still yet to receive school bus cards (or keys to the foreign teacher's office, but that got straightened out later in the day). For our 50+ minute commute to school on the school-owned bus, it costs 5 kuai each way, which means we have to make sure we have correct change everyday, which also means we spend 10 kuai every day we teach. 10 kuai doesn't sound like much - only $1.48 - but when you're living on 45 kuai a day, it adds up. Apparently it takes the school a long time to process these cards. In the meantime, we seem to be the only teachers paying cash for the bus. We also got to go for our second visa interview, which involved much running around town, waiting for the Korean international students, staring awkwardly into cameras and nodding affirmatively at appropriate times.
Up: Richy and I marked our 11 year relationship at the fanciest non-Chinese restaurant in town: Pizza Hut. Beer and pizza just really hits the spot sometimes, even if it involves "cheddar sauce" (tastes like boxed macaroni sauce) and warm Tsingtao over ice. We splurged and took a cab, then went out and bought peanut butter at Wal-mart and had ice cream at KFC. Oh the romance of it all...
Down: We had been planning an attempt at a culinary feat for days - butternut squash ravioli. After several trips to nearby supermarkets, we discovered that Parmesan cheese is easier to come by in Chengdu than in Chongqing. So we decided we could settle for mozzarella. After several evening attempts at buying won-ton wrappers for the ravioli, we discovered it is something that must be purchased in the morning. Finally, after deciding we would go for browned butter and garlic sauce instead of alfredo, steaming and mashing our butternut squash, and procuring some early morning fresh Chinese pasta product, we discovered our building's gas had been temporarily shut off. No boiling water for us! We dined on peanut butter and jelly instead.
I wonder what twists and turns tomorrow will bring!
Up: Last week marked our second week of class. We were pleased to have a light schedule and things starting to settle down in the apartment. We realized that the cupboard was full of cookies, crackers and noodles and if we didn't figure out the vegetable shopping situation we'd be suffering carbohydrate overload. The supermarkets here are convenient, but the produce is a little frightening and often features cockroaches scattering when you move the fruit around. I set out to brave one of the crowded fruit and vegetable stands down a nearby alleyway. The produce is tantalizingly fresh and well cared for, but also surrounded by a harried mob of Chinese shoppers. I pushed my way in, observing the pandemonium from above (I'm tall in China!) and found that people were grabbing large plastic baskets from a pile and filling them with vegetables. I grabbed a basket and started poking around the offerings. I realized that the section of the crowd nearest the scale was actually some kind of line. So after I filled my basket with somewhat familiar vegetable items: carrots, green onions, bai cai (aka. bok choi), and eggplant. Then I pushed and shoved my way toward the scale. As I approached, I realized there was a technique to getting your stuff on the scale: hold your hand over the vegetables already on the scale, and when the other produce gets shoved into the bag, plop down your stuff before anyone else can! Which is what I did after a couple tries. I only had to ask the vendor to repeat the price once! I felt quite proud of myself as we settled down to our first real home cooked dinner of stir fried veggies and rice.
Down: Wednesday was a bit stressful as Richy learned via email that morning that a new three hour listening and speaking class had been added to his schedule - to be taught that very afternoon! So much for having a day off together in the middle of the week. After we called some folks in our department to figure out exactly what was going on (the original email didn't even include a room number), we found out that a Chinese English teacher had resigned the previous week and that Richy had been assigned his class. Richy was able to scrape enough material together to keep the class occupied for three hours. Way to keep us on our toes China!
Up: The weekend gave us an opportunity to get together with other PCV pals in the Jie Fang Bei area for an evening of beers, snacks and chats. But not before we got to take a four and a half hour self-guided walking tour of the city! We walked all the way from our house in Da Ping, along the Yangtze River (where we saw the brown-water-braving members of the Yangtze River Winter Swimming Club out for a little afternoon dip) and up the countless flights of stairs to Jie Fang Bei and the oddly pirate-themed "historic" area of Hong Ya Dong. We also entertained our first overnight visitor in our apartment, which forced me to actually straighten up the apartment as a whole, which made me realize how much progress we've made in making it livable.
Down: Third week of class begins while the two of us are still yet to receive school bus cards (or keys to the foreign teacher's office, but that got straightened out later in the day). For our 50+ minute commute to school on the school-owned bus, it costs 5 kuai each way, which means we have to make sure we have correct change everyday, which also means we spend 10 kuai every day we teach. 10 kuai doesn't sound like much - only $1.48 - but when you're living on 45 kuai a day, it adds up. Apparently it takes the school a long time to process these cards. In the meantime, we seem to be the only teachers paying cash for the bus. We also got to go for our second visa interview, which involved much running around town, waiting for the Korean international students, staring awkwardly into cameras and nodding affirmatively at appropriate times.
Up: Richy and I marked our 11 year relationship at the fanciest non-Chinese restaurant in town: Pizza Hut. Beer and pizza just really hits the spot sometimes, even if it involves "cheddar sauce" (tastes like boxed macaroni sauce) and warm Tsingtao over ice. We splurged and took a cab, then went out and bought peanut butter at Wal-mart and had ice cream at KFC. Oh the romance of it all...
Down: We had been planning an attempt at a culinary feat for days - butternut squash ravioli. After several trips to nearby supermarkets, we discovered that Parmesan cheese is easier to come by in Chengdu than in Chongqing. So we decided we could settle for mozzarella. After several evening attempts at buying won-ton wrappers for the ravioli, we discovered it is something that must be purchased in the morning. Finally, after deciding we would go for browned butter and garlic sauce instead of alfredo, steaming and mashing our butternut squash, and procuring some early morning fresh Chinese pasta product, we discovered our building's gas had been temporarily shut off. No boiling water for us! We dined on peanut butter and jelly instead.
I wonder what twists and turns tomorrow will bring!
6.9.10
Kidnapped... in a good way?
So something I have discovered about living and traveling in foreign countries is the constant danger of the friendly kidnapping. This typically involves limited language skills on the part of both parties, an awkward sense of obligation, and some type of vehicle, but the defining characteristic is that there is no way out until your captors decide to release you. If you don't count outings with the host family (which I don't, but sometimes fall within the same bounds of awkward situations that you have absolutely no way out of) we had our first friendly kidnapping in China on Sunday.
It began with a general plan to go to Metro at some point this weekend: a Costco-like German-run box store rumored to carry such delicacies as cheddar cheese, real coffee and oven-like appliances. Saturday ended up being one of those days where it was difficult to get out of the house. We slept in, cleaned, organized, and procrastinated in the apartment, and finally only ended up out of the house in the evening to forage for food. So Metro had to happen on Sunday. Another slow-ish day, but we were both in showering/dressing mode by about 10:30 am. At that point, as I was still running around the house in my underwear (Richy still showering), the phone rang. Earlier this week I had received a call from the same number, which ended up in fact being my first phone conversation in Chinese. At that time, I surmised that the woman on the other end of the phone was a friend of my Jiejie in Chengdu, who had been summoned to help us out with settling into Chongqing. I told her that I had to work during the week and that I didn't need anything, and she said she'd call back on Friday. Apparently she was busy on Friday and decided to call me back on Sunday at 10:30 am. Again she only spoke in Mandarin, thankfully slow, thankfully basic. I told her we planned to go to Metro (called Mai-de-long in Chinese) she then asked me "shenme shi hou" (when?) I told her we planned to leave the house around 11:00am and return at around 3:00pm. She said she wanted to take us out to eat. I said okay. She asked me my address. I told her my address. I assumed we were going to meet at or after 3:00pm. The conversation ended with a cheery "Zai Jian" (see you later) on both sides. I was smug, feeling like I just had my second successful phone conversation in Chinese. Yay!
Two minutes later, while I was still in a state of undress, the phone rang again. She said she was at the end of my street and what building did I live in? What? "Shen zai ma" (right now)? Oh crap. My smugness was immediately replaced with panic. I called to Richy (in the shower) that we were having a change of plans, that I misunderstood and that she was coming to the apartment right now. I threw on my clothes and ran down to the street to find her (I don't have the language skills, even in English to explain where the entrance to my building is). I looked down the street and found a frantic-looking Chinese woman in a purple dress clutching a cell phone just as mine rang. I followed her, answered the phone and sure enough it was her. I invited her up to the apartment, knowing that she might be horrified by the mess, but thinking that I didn't really want to organize ourselves on the street. Richy was still in the shower after all. Up in the apartment, she kept making phone calls, saying something about meeting with some friends who spoke English, and we waited for Richy to dry and dress.
When Richy was ready we went back down to the street and got into her car (the point at which we released control and became kidnapped), a red Ford Focus bedecked on the interior with all manner of Hello Kitty and Minnie Mouse paraphernalia. We assumed she must have a child (which we later discovered not to be the case). She whisked us off to Yang Jia Ping, which is the nearby entertainment district and general mall-like area where we met up with a couple at a small clothing boutique trying clothes on their adorable, pigtailed, three year old little girl. Indeed, one of them spoke English and we quickly surmised that he had just spent a month living with a host family near Seattle. What a coincidence! It was nice, if not a little bizarre, to be suddenly standing there chatting in totally fluent English with someone who knew about our part of the world. Once the outfits were picked out and purchased, he asked us if we would like to have hotpot for lunch. In honesty, hot pot is a little hard on the guts and we had never tried it for lunch before. We cautiously agreed. They took us to a fancy hotpot place in the nearby Paradise Walk mall and were relieved to find individual hotpot burners for each diner. This meant that if anyone ordered duck blood, pig brain, cow stomach, duck intestine, or any other such internal organs we could have a better chance of avoiding it. We even got to tone down the spice in our individual pots in anticipation of not knowing when we would next have unlimited toilet time.
The hotpot was delicious, with a full bar of condiments and pleasant company to share the meal with. I felt like we had made some new, solid friends who were not affiliated in any way with our work at the university. We exchanged phone numbers and they invited us to their house in October when relatives from America would be visiting them. Next, my thoughts turned back to Metro - would we still be going there? It hadn't been mentioned since our first phone conversation. It was already past 2:00pm. We didn't know what to do other than follow Jiejie's friend (her name is Lei Lu) back to her car. We asked her where she lived, trying to politely surmise where we were going. She told us that she lived right by the Metro and that she would be taking us there. I kind of hoped she would just drop us off so we wouldn't have to expose her to our slow and tedious methods of shopping. Of course she considered it her responsibility to escort us, and to try to make our shopping experience as efficient as possible. She asked us what items we were looking for, and although we mostly wanted to browse in awe at all the occidental goods, she didn't seem to have the patience for it and we didn't want to be ungracious for the lunch (she paid for hotpot) and the ride in her car (especially since we were hoping to bring home a toaster oven with us).
We ended up with cheese, coffee, a toaster oven and a wi-fi router. She seemed dismayed at the wi-fi router for some reason that we could not translate and refused to let us buy it. Outside the store, after a heated telephone conversation with someone that featured the word "wi-fi" several times, she took Richy back into the store and let him buy it after all. Finally she took us home - we thanked her profusely and told her she was a "hen hao ren" (very good person). She told us that we were her friends and that we should call her anytime. We ended up back in our apartment at 3:30pm, feeling kind of dazed and wondering how we had the good fortune to experience such a lovely kidnapping.
- Katie
It began with a general plan to go to Metro at some point this weekend: a Costco-like German-run box store rumored to carry such delicacies as cheddar cheese, real coffee and oven-like appliances. Saturday ended up being one of those days where it was difficult to get out of the house. We slept in, cleaned, organized, and procrastinated in the apartment, and finally only ended up out of the house in the evening to forage for food. So Metro had to happen on Sunday. Another slow-ish day, but we were both in showering/dressing mode by about 10:30 am. At that point, as I was still running around the house in my underwear (Richy still showering), the phone rang. Earlier this week I had received a call from the same number, which ended up in fact being my first phone conversation in Chinese. At that time, I surmised that the woman on the other end of the phone was a friend of my Jiejie in Chengdu, who had been summoned to help us out with settling into Chongqing. I told her that I had to work during the week and that I didn't need anything, and she said she'd call back on Friday. Apparently she was busy on Friday and decided to call me back on Sunday at 10:30 am. Again she only spoke in Mandarin, thankfully slow, thankfully basic. I told her we planned to go to Metro (called Mai-de-long in Chinese) she then asked me "shenme shi hou" (when?) I told her we planned to leave the house around 11:00am and return at around 3:00pm. She said she wanted to take us out to eat. I said okay. She asked me my address. I told her my address. I assumed we were going to meet at or after 3:00pm. The conversation ended with a cheery "Zai Jian" (see you later) on both sides. I was smug, feeling like I just had my second successful phone conversation in Chinese. Yay!
Two minutes later, while I was still in a state of undress, the phone rang again. She said she was at the end of my street and what building did I live in? What? "Shen zai ma" (right now)? Oh crap. My smugness was immediately replaced with panic. I called to Richy (in the shower) that we were having a change of plans, that I misunderstood and that she was coming to the apartment right now. I threw on my clothes and ran down to the street to find her (I don't have the language skills, even in English to explain where the entrance to my building is). I looked down the street and found a frantic-looking Chinese woman in a purple dress clutching a cell phone just as mine rang. I followed her, answered the phone and sure enough it was her. I invited her up to the apartment, knowing that she might be horrified by the mess, but thinking that I didn't really want to organize ourselves on the street. Richy was still in the shower after all. Up in the apartment, she kept making phone calls, saying something about meeting with some friends who spoke English, and we waited for Richy to dry and dress.
When Richy was ready we went back down to the street and got into her car (the point at which we released control and became kidnapped), a red Ford Focus bedecked on the interior with all manner of Hello Kitty and Minnie Mouse paraphernalia. We assumed she must have a child (which we later discovered not to be the case). She whisked us off to Yang Jia Ping, which is the nearby entertainment district and general mall-like area where we met up with a couple at a small clothing boutique trying clothes on their adorable, pigtailed, three year old little girl. Indeed, one of them spoke English and we quickly surmised that he had just spent a month living with a host family near Seattle. What a coincidence! It was nice, if not a little bizarre, to be suddenly standing there chatting in totally fluent English with someone who knew about our part of the world. Once the outfits were picked out and purchased, he asked us if we would like to have hotpot for lunch. In honesty, hot pot is a little hard on the guts and we had never tried it for lunch before. We cautiously agreed. They took us to a fancy hotpot place in the nearby Paradise Walk mall and were relieved to find individual hotpot burners for each diner. This meant that if anyone ordered duck blood, pig brain, cow stomach, duck intestine, or any other such internal organs we could have a better chance of avoiding it. We even got to tone down the spice in our individual pots in anticipation of not knowing when we would next have unlimited toilet time.
The hotpot was delicious, with a full bar of condiments and pleasant company to share the meal with. I felt like we had made some new, solid friends who were not affiliated in any way with our work at the university. We exchanged phone numbers and they invited us to their house in October when relatives from America would be visiting them. Next, my thoughts turned back to Metro - would we still be going there? It hadn't been mentioned since our first phone conversation. It was already past 2:00pm. We didn't know what to do other than follow Jiejie's friend (her name is Lei Lu) back to her car. We asked her where she lived, trying to politely surmise where we were going. She told us that she lived right by the Metro and that she would be taking us there. I kind of hoped she would just drop us off so we wouldn't have to expose her to our slow and tedious methods of shopping. Of course she considered it her responsibility to escort us, and to try to make our shopping experience as efficient as possible. She asked us what items we were looking for, and although we mostly wanted to browse in awe at all the occidental goods, she didn't seem to have the patience for it and we didn't want to be ungracious for the lunch (she paid for hotpot) and the ride in her car (especially since we were hoping to bring home a toaster oven with us).
We ended up with cheese, coffee, a toaster oven and a wi-fi router. She seemed dismayed at the wi-fi router for some reason that we could not translate and refused to let us buy it. Outside the store, after a heated telephone conversation with someone that featured the word "wi-fi" several times, she took Richy back into the store and let him buy it after all. Finally she took us home - we thanked her profusely and told her she was a "hen hao ren" (very good person). She told us that we were her friends and that we should call her anytime. We ended up back in our apartment at 3:30pm, feeling kind of dazed and wondering how we had the good fortune to experience such a lovely kidnapping.
- Katie
3.9.10
Back to School
Only when I went to teach my first class did I realize, "Hey, this means summer is over." This has probably been the most busy, fly-by summer of my life, but I am glad that the 100+ degree days and sweltering humidity are done. Of course, we got a new air conditioner in our bedroom just in time for the cool weather. [Cultural side note: installation workers bring their own slippers to wear in your house, but they seem to think smoking in your bedroom while installing your air conditioner is a-okay.] Day by day, as I clear more and more nooks and crannies of dust and grime, this apartment is feeling more like our place in the world. The more days pass without cockroach sightings, the less I feel inclined to jump at every small movement I see from the corner of my eye.
This week, I taught three Writing II classes to second year English Majors, and next week I will be starting a fourth class, Oral English III which will also be for second year students (or so I hear). My schedule will be filled out in three weeks when the Freshmen get done with their military training. Each class is 90 minutes, which counts as two teaching hours. Since I have mostly writing classes, I am hoping I stay around 12 or so teaching hours a week since the grading takes a lot more time than in Oral English classes, and we're supposed to have time left in the week to study Chinese and work on secondary projects. The students in my first class seemed bright and energetic and I was genuinely impressed with the class monitor's organizational skills, but my other two classes will probably be a little more challenging since they are after lunch and the students seemed put upon to stay awake. Richy is teaching all Oral English classes and so far we discovered that we share one class of students.
Chinese class organization is very different than in the West, as students are grouped at the beginning of their Freshman year by major, then continue through all four years taking all their classes together with the same group of students. Students don't get a say in the specific classes they take as they are determined as a whole group and not individually. Just another example of the concept of collectivism vs. individualism. Each class has a monitor, who helps the teacher take care of administrative tasks and organization - they seem to be the only people at the school who actually know what's going on most of the time (the teachers seem to be the last to be notified about schedule changes and whatnot). Needless to say, the students get to know each other very well, so we don't need to work on a lot of getting to know you activities. Richy has pointed out that in many ways our school life in China seems backward from what we're used to in the States: teachers take the school bus to school, students know what's going on before the teachers, and at least at this point, we seem more concerned with our students' evaluations of us than they do with our evaluations of them. So here we go, beginning our daily grind, planning our weekly lesson sets and working on our Chinese language skills in between.
This week, I taught three Writing II classes to second year English Majors, and next week I will be starting a fourth class, Oral English III which will also be for second year students (or so I hear). My schedule will be filled out in three weeks when the Freshmen get done with their military training. Each class is 90 minutes, which counts as two teaching hours. Since I have mostly writing classes, I am hoping I stay around 12 or so teaching hours a week since the grading takes a lot more time than in Oral English classes, and we're supposed to have time left in the week to study Chinese and work on secondary projects. The students in my first class seemed bright and energetic and I was genuinely impressed with the class monitor's organizational skills, but my other two classes will probably be a little more challenging since they are after lunch and the students seemed put upon to stay awake. Richy is teaching all Oral English classes and so far we discovered that we share one class of students.
Chinese class organization is very different than in the West, as students are grouped at the beginning of their Freshman year by major, then continue through all four years taking all their classes together with the same group of students. Students don't get a say in the specific classes they take as they are determined as a whole group and not individually. Just another example of the concept of collectivism vs. individualism. Each class has a monitor, who helps the teacher take care of administrative tasks and organization - they seem to be the only people at the school who actually know what's going on most of the time (the teachers seem to be the last to be notified about schedule changes and whatnot). Needless to say, the students get to know each other very well, so we don't need to work on a lot of getting to know you activities. Richy has pointed out that in many ways our school life in China seems backward from what we're used to in the States: teachers take the school bus to school, students know what's going on before the teachers, and at least at this point, we seem more concerned with our students' evaluations of us than they do with our evaluations of them. So here we go, beginning our daily grind, planning our weekly lesson sets and working on our Chinese language skills in between.
28.8.10
Transition
For some reason, moving from Chengdu to Chongqing is proving more
difficult than moving from the US to China was. Perhaps the reason is
that I haven't had to do dishes, cook for myself, or take out the
trash for the past two months. Or maybe because we had been preparing
for our departure for China for over a year, while we didn't really
anticipate our departure for Chongqing to be very climactic. Let me
illustrate the last week of our lives:
difficult than moving from the US to China was. Perhaps the reason is
that I haven't had to do dishes, cook for myself, or take out the
trash for the past two months. Or maybe because we had been preparing
for our departure for China for over a year, while we didn't really
anticipate our departure for Chongqing to be very climactic. Let me
illustrate the last week of our lives:
Monday, August 23: Last day of classes at SNU. We were anxious about
getting our LPI results, getting ready to say goodbye to host families
and starting to feel nostalgic about our Sichuan Normal University
campus and training group. I came down with the head cold that was
going around. We said goodbye to our teachers and spent the afternoon
wandering around Wenshu temple. When we arrived home to go out to our
last dinner with the host family, I turned the key in the lock just as
someone inside seemed to turn the handle. The lock stopped turning and
we found ourselves unable to get in while our host family found
themselves unable to get out. Since the apartment is on the 4th floor,
I am not sure how they would escape in case of an emergency. A
locksmith was called. Dinner reservations were missed. Richy and I
waited in the stairwell for about an hour. Heated argument ensued
between Jiejie and the locksmith who tried to charge her more than the
price quoted on the phone. I spent the evening post-lockout helping
Yao Ying with an English newspaper project.
Tuesday, August 24: Departure for the fancy four star hotel. We
realized our baggage grew since arriving in China, mostly with
teaching books and Peace Corps issued medical supplies (not including
those we were yet to receive at the hotel). Gege was in a rush to get
to work, so we arrived an hour early to catch the bus so we could wait
in the rain with all our luggage. Luckily another early, enterprising,
host family member found us all shelter in the campus police station.
We were impressed by a huge panda-themed fountain when we pulled into
the hotel parking lot, proximity to the city center (just blocks away)
and an outdoor pool. We found out our LPI scores: Richy and I both
achieved Intermediate-Mid. We were hoping for high, and considering
that two of our similarly skilled classmates ended up with
Intermediate-High led us to believe that inter-rater reliability might
be a factor. Nonetheless, we surpassed the requirement of
Intermediate-Low and can retake the LPI later if we feel like it. We
spent the rest of the evening enjoying the company of our SNU buddies.
Wednesday, August 25: The complimentary breakfast buffet at the hotel
was knockout amazing. Refills of real coffee, bacon, fresh omlettes
and orange juice. Toast, real butter, and fruit trays. Not to mention
a huge selection of Chinese and Japanese breakfast choices (which we
ignored, with the exception of a purple sweet potato for myself). It
motivated me to promise to get up earlier the next day for more coffee
refills. The rest of the day was a long block of orientation
activities and finishing up our training. Again, we spent the evening
enjoying the company of the SNU folks.
Thursday, August 26: The counterparts, liaisons and/or admins from our
Chinese Universities showed up and we spent the morning trying to get
more useful information out of them. We were graciously taken to lunch
by our waiban-liaison-soon-to-be-counterpart, William. The highlights
of the afternoon session were practicing our oath of service, getting
our flu shots and our settlement allowance cash. Being our last night
with the SNU buddies, things got a little rowdy, people previously
not-coupled became coupled, and merriment was had all around.
Friday, August 27th: The day began with another lovely breakfast,
after which, we rushed to dress up in our Zhongguo yifu and get our
butts into seats for swearing in. Since the US Ambassador to China was
out of the country we were sworn "to defend the constitution against
enemies foreign and domestic" by the Charge d'Affaires of the Beijing
Embassy, Robert Goldberg. He was accompanied by the Ambassador to the
Shanghai Expo, and the Consul General of the Chengdu US Consulate.
We got some fancy Shanghai Expo pins and proceeded to take lots of
photos with lots of people. We then went to a luncheon in our honor
where there were speeches to be heard about the importance of the
Peace Corps mission in China. Then we ate, but we were still full from
breakfast. After eating, we rushed back up to our room to change out
of the Zhongguo yifu and finish packing, then to get back downstairs
to check out, say our goodbyes and find a taxi. Since there were 88 of
us trying to find transportation, taxis were hard to come by, so
William found us an unlicensed van to take us to the train station.
Unfortunately since the van was unlicensed, he feared getting ticketed
near the train station, and therefore dropped us off about a mile
away. So we then got to carry our luggage all the way to the train
station. Of course all the Chongqing volunteers were put on the same
train car so space to stow our luggage was scarce and things didn't
get settled until well after the train departed. Upon finally arriving
in our 5th floor apartment (no elevator) at about 7pm with all our
bags, reality hit us: although all we want to do is crawl into bed and
sleep off the events of the day, we have no clean sheets. So we went
on a 3 hour adventure trying to find appropriate sheets, after which
we had to actually put them on the bed, then we both passed out.
Today, Saturday, August 28th: I woke in a panic to the dust, grime,
mold, lack of a teaching schedule, lack of hot water, and lack of food
in our new situation. After an hour spent cleaning just the microwave
I was convinced that the apartment would never be clean, never feel
like home, etc. At which point Richy reminded me that "this is our hut
in Africa." These are our "conditions of hardship" which we have
committed to serve under if necessary. Indeed, with time I'm sure
things will come together and after our second trip to the store I'm
feeling much more confident about how this will turn out. Many Chinese
people deal with much worse. It's also comforting hearing from my SNU
friends today and hearing that they are going through similar
scenarios. Although I did have a little momentary setback this evening
when the first giant cockroach crawled across my hand as I switched on
the bathroom light. I guess we're really in it now.
22.8.10
Some pictures from our friend Katie D. here, we're featured in the "host family..." and "language group..." sets.
--Richy
--Richy
Winding Down
We are about to finish PST - Pre Service Training, otherwise known as
what has been keeping us busy since we arrived in China on June 30th.
We had our LPI (Language Proficiency Interview) yesterday, which was
an anxiety-inducing 25 or so minutes of speaking Chinese with someone
assigned to judge our speaking ability in front of a tape recorder. I
stumbled over my grammar more than usual, but I think I was able to
get my point across: introducing myself, explaining my work
background, asking about class scheduling and giving a short speech I
prepared about cheese (I threw it in when she asked me about my
hobbies - one of them is eating cheese, a substance hard to come by in
the middle of the middle kingdom). We get our results on Tuesday, and
I'm hoping for an Intermediate-Mid or Intermediate-High score, but
we're only required to be as high as Intermediate-Low.
After our LPI, I finally got to pick up the Chinese dress I had made.
It's not a traditional qipao style, but I had it made out of real
traditional style silk. I was supposed to pick it up last week, but as
Chinese dressmakers are unfamiliar with the Western "S" body type (as
they call it) it turned out rather large and sack-like. I had them
take it in, which meant it wasn't ready to wear to the host family
appreciation dinner on Friday, but now it fits me reasonably well and
I can still wear it to swearing in. It's not the knockout,
fits-like-a-glove dress I'd imagined, but it's pretty nice and not bad
for a $38 dress made out of real silk. I'm going to have to try the
qipao thing again over in Chongqing. Richy however had a pretty
amazing Zhongguo yifu (Chinese clothing) experience, and was able to
wear his 100% Italian wool Sun Yatsen suit to the family appreciation
dinner. As the Chinese host families said, he was very "Shuai ge,"
(handsome) and the fit seems perfect on his frame. Photos will be
posted as soon as we acquire a reasonably fast internet connection.
After picking up my dress, we headed over to see some of the tourist
sites over on Jinli Street, which is kind of a redone old-style
neighborhood with lots of snack stalls, overpriced souvenirs and a
Starbucks. Searching for the nearby Tibetan district, we came across
what used to be a Spanish restaurant getting ready to close their
doors. Apparently the wine importing business is more lucrative in
China than the ethnic food restaurant business. They shared with us
(free of charge) some of the best beer and wine we've tasted since we
left the states and we chatted about various foreigner-in-China
experiences. Afterward, we had our first meal of hotpot that did not
include the blood, brain or entrails of any animals, which was quite
enjoyable, followed by the not so enjoyable witnessing of an ambulance
tending to a stabbing victim a block away. It took a few minutes for
Richy and our friend Leo to ascertain that a stabbing had occurred,
after which we quickly hightailed it back to the relative comfort and
safety of the campus.
--Katie
what has been keeping us busy since we arrived in China on June 30th.
We had our LPI (Language Proficiency Interview) yesterday, which was
an anxiety-inducing 25 or so minutes of speaking Chinese with someone
assigned to judge our speaking ability in front of a tape recorder. I
stumbled over my grammar more than usual, but I think I was able to
get my point across: introducing myself, explaining my work
background, asking about class scheduling and giving a short speech I
prepared about cheese (I threw it in when she asked me about my
hobbies - one of them is eating cheese, a substance hard to come by in
the middle of the middle kingdom). We get our results on Tuesday, and
I'm hoping for an Intermediate-Mid or Intermediate-High score, but
we're only required to be as high as Intermediate-Low.
After our LPI, I finally got to pick up the Chinese dress I had made.
It's not a traditional qipao style, but I had it made out of real
traditional style silk. I was supposed to pick it up last week, but as
Chinese dressmakers are unfamiliar with the Western "S" body type (as
they call it) it turned out rather large and sack-like. I had them
take it in, which meant it wasn't ready to wear to the host family
appreciation dinner on Friday, but now it fits me reasonably well and
I can still wear it to swearing in. It's not the knockout,
fits-like-a-glove dress I'd imagined, but it's pretty nice and not bad
for a $38 dress made out of real silk. I'm going to have to try the
qipao thing again over in Chongqing. Richy however had a pretty
amazing Zhongguo yifu (Chinese clothing) experience, and was able to
wear his 100% Italian wool Sun Yatsen suit to the family appreciation
dinner. As the Chinese host families said, he was very "Shuai ge,"
(handsome) and the fit seems perfect on his frame. Photos will be
posted as soon as we acquire a reasonably fast internet connection.
After picking up my dress, we headed over to see some of the tourist
sites over on Jinli Street, which is kind of a redone old-style
neighborhood with lots of snack stalls, overpriced souvenirs and a
Starbucks. Searching for the nearby Tibetan district, we came across
what used to be a Spanish restaurant getting ready to close their
doors. Apparently the wine importing business is more lucrative in
China than the ethnic food restaurant business. They shared with us
(free of charge) some of the best beer and wine we've tasted since we
left the states and we chatted about various foreigner-in-China
experiences. Afterward, we had our first meal of hotpot that did not
include the blood, brain or entrails of any animals, which was quite
enjoyable, followed by the not so enjoyable witnessing of an ambulance
tending to a stabbing victim a block away. It took a few minutes for
Richy and our friend Leo to ascertain that a stabbing had occurred,
after which we quickly hightailed it back to the relative comfort and
safety of the campus.
--Katie
17.8.10
Things to Know...
There were some things I never had an opportunity to learn about Korean culture, having never lived with a Korean family. I have however, had the opportunity to learn all kinds of interesting tidbits about Chinese culture living with a host family. This being our last week with our host family before setting off on our own I would like to share:
- Americans have a disgusting habit of washing their socks AND underwear with the rest of their clothing. Any self respecting Chinese family knows that socks and underwear should be washed in individual sock or underwear only loads and hung on separate drying racks.
- Bamboo mats and bamboo pillow covers are appropriate bedding choices for summer.
- Showering should always be done at night. Showering in the morning is strange, but acceptable for foreigners if it shortens the evening line for the shower.
- There seems to be some disagreement about this, but some families find it acceptable to pour a glass of beer at dinner for children under 10.
- The preferred way to cut up a chicken for cooking involves hacking it apart with a butcher knife. This maximizes dinnertime activities by allowing diners to nibble around sharp bits of bone. Eating more slowly is good for health.
- Any type of animal bone or unwanted food can be politely placed directly on the table when you decide to discard it.
- Finishing off a plate of food can be insulting to the host, indicating that you want more food. Not eating enough can be insulting to the host, indicating that you don't like their cooking. Guests must endeavor to find the appropriate polite balance.
- Chinese families need not worry about appropriate times to put out the recycling. Any recyclables left on the street side at any time will be collected by roving bands of recycling entrepreneurs.
After coming back from Chongqing, I realized not only how much the above cultural practices have become normal for me, but also how much this little family and apartment has come to feel like home in the last seven weeks. As anxious as I am to get our own place, I know I am going to miss home style Chinese cooking, watching Chinese kids' shows, and not having to do any dishes or take out the trash.
--Katie
- Americans have a disgusting habit of washing their socks AND underwear with the rest of their clothing. Any self respecting Chinese family knows that socks and underwear should be washed in individual sock or underwear only loads and hung on separate drying racks.
- Bamboo mats and bamboo pillow covers are appropriate bedding choices for summer.
- Showering should always be done at night. Showering in the morning is strange, but acceptable for foreigners if it shortens the evening line for the shower.
- There seems to be some disagreement about this, but some families find it acceptable to pour a glass of beer at dinner for children under 10.
- The preferred way to cut up a chicken for cooking involves hacking it apart with a butcher knife. This maximizes dinnertime activities by allowing diners to nibble around sharp bits of bone. Eating more slowly is good for health.
- Any type of animal bone or unwanted food can be politely placed directly on the table when you decide to discard it.
- Finishing off a plate of food can be insulting to the host, indicating that you want more food. Not eating enough can be insulting to the host, indicating that you don't like their cooking. Guests must endeavor to find the appropriate polite balance.
- Chinese families need not worry about appropriate times to put out the recycling. Any recyclables left on the street side at any time will be collected by roving bands of recycling entrepreneurs.
After coming back from Chongqing, I realized not only how much the above cultural practices have become normal for me, but also how much this little family and apartment has come to feel like home in the last seven weeks. As anxious as I am to get our own place, I know I am going to miss home style Chinese cooking, watching Chinese kids' shows, and not having to do any dishes or take out the trash.
--Katie
12.8.10
Chongqing, Chongqing.
We’ve spent the past few days wandering around Chongqing (pronounced Chong-ching for those not familiar with pinyin), completing errands, checking out our new place and generally getting ideas about the next two years. To Richy and I, Chongqing has the feel of Seoul and Bangkok combined. The palm trees, heat, grime and elevated train remind us of Bangkok, while the sheer scale, dimensionality, and hyper-dynamic feel of the city remind us of Seoul. All in all, I feel we can be comfortable making our home here. Evidence: for some reason a high of 39 C today (102.2 F) didn’t seem that strange to me. I felt like I was going to melt into the pavement, but I was able to approach the situation with an “I know I can handle this” attitude.
Our apartment building is the only remaining building on what used to be the North Campus of Chongqing University of Science and Technology. Called “Peach Garden Building” on “Petroleum Road,” you can imagine the contradictions embodied in our neighborhood. The building appears to have been built in the 70’s or 80’s and houses teachers from our university and their families. It is surrounded by brand new high-rise apartments and construction sites, where the rest of the campus used to be. Between the high-rises are small, ancient-looking dilapidated homes where peddlers and retirees seem to make their homes and businesses. Since there are no longer any teaching buildings here, we will be commuting 50 minutes to “University Town” on the outskirts of the city, where the new modern campus is located. Teacher residence buildings are being built there, but are not yet complete. Thankfully, we will not be on our own getting to the campus, as a free school bus travels between the teacher’s residences and the new campus several times a day. Apparently if we miss the last bus of the day back to the residence, the school also provides a small teacher’s dorm room on campus where we can stay the night.
Our apartment itself is large by Chinese standards, and certainly huge by Peace Corps standards. It has 3 bedrooms: a master bedroom, a guest room and a study. We also have a large living/dining room and a kitchen, as well as one and a half bathrooms. The half bath toilet apparently leaks, so I’m not sure how much we’ll be using it (it’s not like we really need it anyway). It’s kind of been set up as a cleaning closet, so we’ll probably just go with that. We’re hoping our stove hood gets fixed before we move in, because at this point we can’t get it to turn on. We have cages around all our windows, which I am hoping I can fill with planter boxes of basil, oregano and all manner of salad greens. Disinfecting my store bought salad greens with bleach as the Peace Corps medical office recommends just doesn’t sound very tasty or wholesome to me. One of the former volunteers apparently had a cat (something which is now against the rules) as evidenced by the left behind cat toys, paw prints all over the walls and scratched up leather furniture. Luckily no cat smell! It gives me a good reason to scrub down all the walls and cover the furniture I suppose. At this point, I am just excited to get into our place and get going on this whole living in China thing. That place will feel like home in no time (well, no time in a few weeks).
Our apartment building is the only remaining building on what used to be the North Campus of Chongqing University of Science and Technology. Called “Peach Garden Building” on “Petroleum Road,” you can imagine the contradictions embodied in our neighborhood. The building appears to have been built in the 70’s or 80’s and houses teachers from our university and their families. It is surrounded by brand new high-rise apartments and construction sites, where the rest of the campus used to be. Between the high-rises are small, ancient-looking dilapidated homes where peddlers and retirees seem to make their homes and businesses. Since there are no longer any teaching buildings here, we will be commuting 50 minutes to “University Town” on the outskirts of the city, where the new modern campus is located. Teacher residence buildings are being built there, but are not yet complete. Thankfully, we will not be on our own getting to the campus, as a free school bus travels between the teacher’s residences and the new campus several times a day. Apparently if we miss the last bus of the day back to the residence, the school also provides a small teacher’s dorm room on campus where we can stay the night.
Our apartment itself is large by Chinese standards, and certainly huge by Peace Corps standards. It has 3 bedrooms: a master bedroom, a guest room and a study. We also have a large living/dining room and a kitchen, as well as one and a half bathrooms. The half bath toilet apparently leaks, so I’m not sure how much we’ll be using it (it’s not like we really need it anyway). It’s kind of been set up as a cleaning closet, so we’ll probably just go with that. We’re hoping our stove hood gets fixed before we move in, because at this point we can’t get it to turn on. We have cages around all our windows, which I am hoping I can fill with planter boxes of basil, oregano and all manner of salad greens. Disinfecting my store bought salad greens with bleach as the Peace Corps medical office recommends just doesn’t sound very tasty or wholesome to me. One of the former volunteers apparently had a cat (something which is now against the rules) as evidenced by the left behind cat toys, paw prints all over the walls and scratched up leather furniture. Luckily no cat smell! It gives me a good reason to scrub down all the walls and cover the furniture I suppose. At this point, I am just excited to get into our place and get going on this whole living in China thing. That place will feel like home in no time (well, no time in a few weeks).
8.8.10
Tastes Like Noodles
Oh what a few days it has been. It's been a bit of an emotional roller coaster since we got our site placement, since we're going to be splitting off from so many of the people we've come to know and depend on at our training site. We had what felt like an intensely competitive "language simulation" on Friday, which basically felt like we were on some kind of Try to Survive in China game show. Followed by another "go find your way to this place and answer questions" field trip (on which I was thankfully able to score some occidental culinary herb seeds, which I will hopefully be able to grow), followed by beers with the training sitemates, followed by host family, followed by not enough sleep, more language classes, Chinese banquet simulation, then KTV (Chinese Karaoke), and finally, our very first Sichuan hotpot experience.
Our host family decided that celebrating our site placement was a good opportunity to introduce us to Chengdu style hotpot since Chongqing and Chengdu are in fierce competition for the title of Best Sichuan Hotpot. Chengdu is known for being more oily and Chongqing is known for being more brothy, but also more spicy. This particular eating venue also featured miniature Sichuan opera style performances. The pot looked generally like the ones Richy and I had eaten from for previous cook-your-food-in-broth-meals in Korea and at Beijing Hotpot in Portland, but you could tell that the oil to broth ratio was leaning much more toward the oil and that there were a heck of a lot of hot peppers floating on top. Spiciness is something we have definitely become accustomed to and expect from any decent Sichuanese meal, but we weren't expecting our typically non-offal eating host family to suddenly order duck intestine, cow stomach and cow kidney. What a celebration!
First to come to the table was a rack, kind of what you might expect to hang doll clothes on. But there were no doll clothes on this rack. There were clean, thinly sliced strips of duck intestine, looking very much like slightly pink shiny noodles. Not too terrifying looks-wise. Ge-ge puts one in the pot, pulls it out a few minutes later, dips it in sauce and slurps it like a noodle. Jie-jie asssures me "it does not smell or taste terrible." I followed Ge-ge's example and slurped up my duck intestine, which as long as you don't call it duck intestine, is actually not bad. It tastes just like a noodle, but with a very delicate texture. The next dish was very thinly sliced, and the way Jie-jie refused to tell us what it was, we knew it came from somewhere deep inside an animal. She told us she would tell us after we tried it. Again, she assures us, "it does not smell or taste terrible." We dipped the slightly shiny, pinkish-grey slices into the broth, let them cook, dipped them in oil and ate them. Flavor was not a factor, the texture reminded me of mushrooms, and I found myself thinking, "I am fine not knowing what this is." Apparently it was cow kidney. Next, Ge-ge offered us dark grey, prickly-looking slices that were most definitely not going in my mouth. At this point, I draw the line at things that look hairy. Which apparently means I draw the line at cow stomach. I don't think I would ever order these items for myself, but I feel I've reached a certain cultural turning point knowing that duck intestines taste as inoffensively as egg noodles.
Our host family decided that celebrating our site placement was a good opportunity to introduce us to Chengdu style hotpot since Chongqing and Chengdu are in fierce competition for the title of Best Sichuan Hotpot. Chengdu is known for being more oily and Chongqing is known for being more brothy, but also more spicy. This particular eating venue also featured miniature Sichuan opera style performances. The pot looked generally like the ones Richy and I had eaten from for previous cook-your-food-in-broth-meals in Korea and at Beijing Hotpot in Portland, but you could tell that the oil to broth ratio was leaning much more toward the oil and that there were a heck of a lot of hot peppers floating on top. Spiciness is something we have definitely become accustomed to and expect from any decent Sichuanese meal, but we weren't expecting our typically non-offal eating host family to suddenly order duck intestine, cow stomach and cow kidney. What a celebration!
First to come to the table was a rack, kind of what you might expect to hang doll clothes on. But there were no doll clothes on this rack. There were clean, thinly sliced strips of duck intestine, looking very much like slightly pink shiny noodles. Not too terrifying looks-wise. Ge-ge puts one in the pot, pulls it out a few minutes later, dips it in sauce and slurps it like a noodle. Jie-jie asssures me "it does not smell or taste terrible." I followed Ge-ge's example and slurped up my duck intestine, which as long as you don't call it duck intestine, is actually not bad. It tastes just like a noodle, but with a very delicate texture. The next dish was very thinly sliced, and the way Jie-jie refused to tell us what it was, we knew it came from somewhere deep inside an animal. She told us she would tell us after we tried it. Again, she assures us, "it does not smell or taste terrible." We dipped the slightly shiny, pinkish-grey slices into the broth, let them cook, dipped them in oil and ate them. Flavor was not a factor, the texture reminded me of mushrooms, and I found myself thinking, "I am fine not knowing what this is." Apparently it was cow kidney. Next, Ge-ge offered us dark grey, prickly-looking slices that were most definitely not going in my mouth. At this point, I draw the line at things that look hairy. Which apparently means I draw the line at cow stomach. I don't think I would ever order these items for myself, but I feel I've reached a certain cultural turning point knowing that duck intestines taste as inoffensively as egg noodles.
6.8.10
And the winner is...
… Chongqing! We are pleased to announce that we will be teaching in one of the biggest up-and-coming cities in China. Separated into it's own municipality from Sichuan in 1997, Chongqing municipality has over 30 million residents. The city itself houses only about 10 million, and we will be living near the center of it. Apparently our "Peace Corps experience" will include a 5th floor, 3 bedroom, 2 story apartment with 2 bathrooms (and a bathtub). This is why Peace Corps China is sometimes referred to as "Posh Corps." I would like to point out however, that this is also one of a handful of Peace Corps China sites where we will be issued a household air filter as a matter of course (can't wait to breathe in that filtered apartment air!). We will also be living in one of China's so-called "three furnaces" which as you could guess, means the summers will be unbearably hot. Consider: we find Chengdu unbearably hot and humid as it is, but there are people visiting here to escape the heat of Chongqing.
Nonetheless, we are pretty excited to finally have a form with which to mould our future plans. We will be working at Chongqing University of Science and Technology where have been told we will be teaching mostly male students. Also many of our students will be majoring in petroleum-related fields. I am hoping the "green curriculum" we have been given by the Peace Corps will be well received. We'll have a much better idea about all this after our site visit next week. In the meantime, we're trying to get our heads around this next phase and preparing ourselves for another stint in one of the mega-urban centers of Asia. Ni Hao Chongqing!
31.7.10
Energy and Enthusiasm
July 30th, 2010
July 31, 2010
The air has felt like a furnace the past two days. We realized it was hot when our host family finally turned on their air conditioner for the first time this season (we've been using the one in our room daily for weeks). Today reached up to 35 degrees Celsius (95 F) with more than 85% humidity. To top it off, last night the power went out at about 2 am because of the power drain from all the air conditioners. We woke up soaked in sweat, feeling the heavy air in our faces. It didn't come back on until about 5 am. The demand simply overloaded the system. Since today has been even hotter, I imagine it could likely happen again tonight. The experience has made me reflect on China's power supply, the growing middle class demand for modern conveniences in China, and how people in the US take such things (modern appliances and an ample power supply) for granted.
Even though our host family is doing very well by Chinese standards, they live without many of the power sucking appliances that we consider everyday parts of life in the US: an oven, a clothes dryer, a dishwasher, a microwave, and a toaster oven for example. Their kitchen consists of a two-burner gas stove (with the ever-present large wok and a steamer on top), a rice cooker, and a small refrigerator (what we would probably consider college dorm size). Their gas stove has an impressive hood with an ingenious oil capture system, where all the oil collects in a funnel shaped clear jar hanging in the center. They have probably four air conditioners in the house, but the only one that has seen any use before yesterday is the one in our bedroom. Other than that, they have cell phones (blackberry-style), a flat screen TV mounted on the wall in the living room, and an oscillating fan near the TV that gets daily use. They also have a small older generation laptop computer, but as far as I can tell, they never use it since their blackberries cover all their connection and information needs. Compared with most American families, I estimate that these folks typically use about ¼ of the household energy (and much less in the countryside where many people don't have even the basics). Of course that's a figure that I just completely pulled out of the air, since we don't have a reliable internet connection to look up any statistics. I think this lifestyle is something to think about when we hear news stories about China surpassing the US in energy use, and the use of coal power and other environmentally damaging methods of power production. They are not eating up more and more power in order to live a luxurious lifestyle. They just want what many in the US would consider less than basic. Even though they are relatively minimalist when it comes to household energy use, the sheer numbers of people here and the energy shortage means that a neighborhood of people choosing to use an air conditioner only on one of the hottest, most unbearable nights of the year causes a power outage. The US has less than a quarter of the people, and until recently, used more energy. It's a realization that I am certainly going to be carrying home with me, and one that is going to shape my energy use decisions for the rest of my time here.
July 31, 2010
Last Thursday, Richy and I had our last round of Japanese encephalitis, rabies, and hepatitis shots, and gave our last bit of input into the process that will decide where we will be serving for the next two years. We will get the final answer on Thursday, August 5th. The fact that our fate is being decided this week gives me anxious jitters, but I also know that worrying about it is pointless because all we can do is learn to love our site when we get there, wherever it may be.
We finished up model school yesterday, so we can go back to our major focus of learning to speak Chinese next week. I didn't think I'd be looking forward to the four hour language blocks again, but here I am, daydreaming about the grammar structures I might know by next weekend. My vocabulary has been steadily growing each day, and I've been able to grasp some Chinese grammar without mangling it too much, but the 2nd and 4th tones still seem to disappear when I string together a sentence. I am also having trouble with the ji, xi, qi, ri, and re initials. All these issues can only be solved by painstaking repetition and correction, and like a child learning to play the violin, no one really wants to hear it until you know what you're doing. All my grammar and vocabulary won't matter a whit if I can't pronounce it in a way that the average Chinese person can understand.
Studying Chinese wouldn't nearly be as much fun if it weren't for the awesome group of ladies that serve as our Language-Culture Facilitators (LCFs) aka: our Chinese teachers. One of my favorites is Hu Laoshi (Miss Hu), who leaves me these gems of encouraging advice in my Trainee Assessment Packet: "You're very great! You speak well and you participation in classroom. You do all things very well, so just still do it! Only more practice the pronunciation on "r" and 2nd tones in a sentence." Quite possibly the most motivating part is that her English is so much better than my Chinese. I especially love the voices she does in class when she acts out the dialogues. Her "man-at-the-hotel-desk" impersonation is pure comic genius.
I am also anxiously looking forward to Monday's qipao shopping trip. Our LCFs are going to take us out to order traditional Chinese dresses to wear to our swearing in ceremony at the end of August. After today's trip to the Sichuan museum I was fantasizing about my qipao while gazing at antique silk brocade. I am sure there will be nothing even remotely like it in my price range, but it does serve to remind me of why traditional Chinese clothing has such an allure in the first place. Richy wants to see if he can get a Sun Yatsen suit (also known by Westerners as a "Mao suit") for a reasonable sum. Of course the term "reasonable sum" is relative here, where we're probably looking at 200 kuai for a decent tailored outfit, which while translating into only $30, could also translate into 100 between class beverages, 40 spicy lunches, 50 cross-town bus rides, or if you prefer, four and a half days of our Peace Corps China living allowance.
28.7.10
A Giant Buddha and the Weekend of the Chinese Bus
This last weekend served to acquaint us with the realities of Chinese transportation methods. On Saturday our LCF (Language and Culture Facilitators) scheduled us for a little "field trip." This outing began by being handed a piece of paper with no instructions. Instead the paper had several questions such as "What bus gets you to the train station? Do you have to transfer any buses to get there? Where is the entrance and the exit to the train station?" I hadn't realized this would be that kind of outing. We were then told, "Go to the train station." When we asked "How?" our LCFs just shrugged, told us to answer the questions and shooed us away. Once I realized that we were really being set off on our own, I jumped at the opportunity to be treated like an adult. However, after the first Chinese person looked at us like we were crazy for wanting to take a bus and suggested a taxi, we knew we were not in for an enjoyable Saturday afternoon on the town.
4 kuai (about 75 cents), two buses, a short walk and about an hour later we were confronted with the chaos that is a Chinese transit hub. Hundreds, if not thousands of people were milling about, (some seemingly camped out) and while cabs, bicycles, and busses swirled around. We still had more questions to answer, so we set out to navigate the crowds and make educated guesses about the content of the train timetables. Our classmate Lindsey made the statement, "I hope never to come here again." A statement, which, while I wholeheartedly agree, I cringe to repeat aloud myself since the future undoubtedly holds countless more trips here.
After a hearty meal of dumplings and a well earned room temperature beer near the station, we set out to find a cab that could take us back to the campus. Once we saw the taxi line however, our plans drifted back to the bus. Thanks to traffic on the ring road, the trip back took about two hours, with standing room only. The highlight was when at 4 ½ foot tall Chinese woman sidled up next to me and began fanning her heavily made up face, whapping me in the boob with each pass. It was a small price to pay for the cool breeze she shared with my right armpit.
Field trip lessons learned:
- Always take a cab to and from the train station if possible.
- Personal space really is an illusion in China.
- A beer before a long, crowded city bus ride on a humid day makes life slightly more bearable.
The second Chinese bus installment of our weekend was voluntary, and thankfully featured coach buses that took us to the city of Leshan, which is the home of the largest Buddha statue in the world (ever since the Taliban did us the favor of blowing up the biggest ones in Afghanistan). The bus ride there took 2 hours, and included air conditioning as well as seatbelts (a true luxury in this sea of wild driving habits). When we arrived, we fended off a gang of aggressive cab drivers, and instead opted for a cheap public tour bus that advertised taking us in the direction of the big Buddha. Unfortunately we didn't realize that the bus was taking us to the East Gate of the park, which would cost us about twice as much as if we had made it to the South Gate. Either way, it was probably better that we ended up at the East Gate because we got to see several other sites including the world's largest reclining Buddha. The South Gate approach also would have been disappointing because the paths down to the base of the Buddha were closed because of flooding and torrential rain (but happily these factors also meant that there were no crowds to contend with). The Buddha was actually originally built because a monk got the idea that turning a huge rock face above the river into a Buddha would have a calming effect on the river. Of course since tons of rocks were removed from the cliffs and dropped to the bottom of the river, the Buddha did indeed have a calming effect on the river.
On the way back, we found more traffic, and got to spend three hours on the bus instead of two. Our weekend Chinese bus grand total came to 8 hours. I wonder how long it will be until we can break this prestigious record…
Big Buddha lesson learned:
- Torrential rain can restore personal space in public spaces.
23.7.10
Snacks and Other Ruminations
Ever had a "Strange Taste Horsebean?" I now can say that I have (and yes, that is the actual translation on the package). How about blueberry flavored potato chips? Richy just had a bag for lunch. Curry flavored yak jerky? Not too different from what I would imagine curry flavored beef jerky would taste like. Every class break is an opportunity to expand our pre-packaged culinary horizons. It helps that we are surrounded by several other curious westerners, so we don't have to shell out the whopping 70 cent price tag to get a taste (we are, after all living on about $7/day). On the slightly less strange and more delicious side, we have also discovered aloe flavored yogurt, pineapple soft serve, crispy sesame ball snacks, and fresh cucumber flavored potato chips (with a slightly tingly menthol-ish after taste). The wonderful thing about the convenience stores on campus is that they hold all manner of curiosities, and we can choose at our pace how much variety we are willing to partake in.
When something mysteriously shows up on the host family table, however, the whole social pressure component comes into play. We want to be gracious guests and polite, and we honestly really do enjoy the vast majority of food that appears on the table. At the same time, we don't want to pretend to like things we hate, so we hopefully won't be fed them again. It's a fine balance to maintain. A few nights ago our host family dared us to try duck neck as an evening snack. It tasted a lot like smoked fish with a lot more bones. Luckily our Chinese vocabulary includes "so-so" and "not horrible." The next day, a dish of slightly strange looking meat showed up on the table with the normal dinner dishes, and I decided to take a small bite before asking what it was so my experience wouldn't be altered by any prejudice. It was a little too chewy to be enjoyable for my tastes and Richy later found out it was pig cheek. At least I know I tried it with a pure mind and didn't decide beforehand that I didn't like it. So far, our host family seems pretty knowledgeable about what foreigners find frightening on the dinner (and breakfast) table. I have heard stories about rabbit heads, duck blood and other such delicacies and I am glad they haven't been wasted on us. For breakfast we are usually served a boiled egg, some deliciously fluffy pork or vegetable filled dumplings, and a hot bowl of thick, purplish rice (and bean?) porridge. The porridge is actually quite good, filling, and seems quite healthy, but I am afraid it might be turning my guts into concrete. I am currently seeking ways to enhance my school day diet with caffeinated beverages, prunes, and any other fast moving vittles I can get my hands on.
18.7.10
The things they are teaching us here...
July 12th, 2010
Here we are at the beginning of another week in the People's Republic of China. I feel like I am finally getting used to the pace of the language classes, getting to know the people in our training group a little better and learning to function within our new daily routine. Having our breakfast and dinner prepared for us each day still feels strange, and I find myself with extra energy in the evenings which would normally be put to use on cooking and cleaning. Now I make flashcards, go over homework, and try to get as much reading done as I can before I fall asleep. We get authentic practice with our Chinese during the lunch hour, asking prices of dishes and ordering lunch and snacks at the shopping area near the school's south gate. We also make small conversation over the dinner table, alternately in broken Chinese and broken English, since our English-fluent jie-jie is out of town for a while. I imagine if we were doing our own shopping and such that our Chinese would get a little more practical use, but there is something about this sheltered environment that makes it seem more comfortable to try new phrases and grammatical structures knowing that we will still eat and not get ripped off in the process.
I didn't write about it at the time, but I have been going over in my mind the things we learned at our whole group sessions last Friday at Sichuan University, especially regarding the "diarrhea dialogue." This might give the folks back home an idea about what kind of education regarding health and safety we're getting here, rest assured – they are leaving no stone unturned. A wholly unappetizing topic, it seems to be foremost in my mind every time I've taken a drink or bite since. Not that I have had any particularly challenging issues in this area, especially after learning the official definition of diarrhea (at least by Peace Corps standards) is four loose bowel movements or more in a day (and try not to call the medical office until you have more than eight). What really struck me was the vast array of methods one could come to acquire this affliction. There is simply adjusting to new foods and levels of spiciness (luckily I had been working myself up to it with the trips to Lucky Strike and extra spiciness wherever applicable), medications, stress, medical conditions, viral infections, bacterial infections, toxins, and of course parasites! Thankfully the methods of avoidance are ones that Richy and I have discovered (sometimes the hard way) through our travels: eat only hot foods, see your street food get prepared, don't eat at empty restaurants, wash hands, wash and peel fruits and vegetables, don't drink the water, avoidance of too cheap bottled water, and trying to consume as many bland foods as possible when that icky gut feeling starts coming on (I hope those of you who plan to visit us here are taking heed). It is comforting to know that when (not if) it hits, the Peace Corps has provided us with several packets of balanced oral rehydration salts, and a handy recipe for making our own in case we run out or happen to have left home without it.
July 18th, 2010
Another week of training has passed and although exhausted, I am content that this experience is adequately preparing us for service. Hours and hours a day of language training is beginning to sink in, as I discovered today logging into my lingt.com account, I was able to identify several more terms that eluded me just last week! I still most look forward to our Thursday sessions at Sichuan University (despite getting up at 5:30 to catch the bus at 7:20 that got us there 45 minutes early), which have proven to provide the most practical survival tips and reassure me that all those lessons we learned the hard way in Korea were valid. This week we covered how to avoid unwanted attention and preserving personal space by throwing elbows and making ugly noises and gestures, and how to avoid getting so drunk at Chinese social functions that you can make it home with out needing stitches (now who would need that kind of information?).
Our host family invited us to join them in the evenings this week watching a television show called "Chinese Bridge." Think American Idol meets It's a Small World meets China. In this show, more than 100 foreigners try to show off their skills in Chinese language, singing, and other pop arts while basically making complete fools of themselves, all while dressed in "traditional" attire. For example, the woman from Egypt was dressed in a glitzy Cleopatra outfit, while the Korean woman danced around in her hanbok and several others were wearing kilts, lederhosen and other rarely seen European ensembles. The prize for winning the competition is apparently a round trip plane ticket home and back to China, and a scholarship to continue their Chinese studies. It's quite entertaining, especially since their Chinese performances are generally easy for me to understand, but there is also something unsettling about the way these people are so willing to make themselves into ethnic caricatures for the Chinese audience. Then again, this is probably a function of reality television programming everywhere, although I can't really imagine Americans watching a show where foreigners compete to show how well they speak English.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)