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.

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

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

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

 

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.