Today was actually a bit anti-climatic, being the day of the Mid Autumn (Moon) Festival and all. I'm not gonna lie. I was expecting huge all day celebrations, like the kind you see on TV (how American am I?), but it was not to be. I woke up at 7:15 (I know, late right? I was so excited) and expected big things. Turns out, not so much. My mother, who happens to be an airline hostess for Air China (hence the reason we have AirChina things coming out of our ears over here) didn't even come home from where-ever she was until 2pm. To kill time, I did homework, bought ice cream (my one trip into the wild, ie Beijing) and tried desperately to amuse myself.
Lunch was this lamb and noodle thing that my dad makes. He is a good cook (and really funny, because he has this purple apron he wears and you just know that not a single male in America would be caught dead in it, but he wears it proudly. I love him, seriously.) and most of our meals are different. Although my family seems to be laboring under the impresssion that I like lamb, and I don't have the heart to tell them I don't, especially when he puts a huge bowl of lamb and noodles in front of me. What am I supposed to say, Sorry that you worked for an hour making lunch, but I actually don't like it? I didn't think so. (By the way, if you have never eaten noodles with chopsticks, consider yourself lucky. Even though I already have trouble with chopsticks, they have to push it and give me noodles. It was basically impossible. I considered just giving up and eating with the dog.)
I didn't make it much farther past lunch. I passed out on my bed at about 1:30, and didn't wake up for 2 hours. I felt bad, but what are you gonna do? When you gotta sleep, you gotta sleep. At least I finished all my homework. I was tired of getting the look from parents. You know what I mean, the one that says, You've had an hour, why haven't you finished your impossibly large homework load? Yeah, that one.
I finally met the grandparents tonight. Before I got to Beijing, I was under the impression that they lived with us, but that is not the case. (As a nice side note, they have the weirdest shower. There is no drain, and basically you have to aim all the water into buckets as you shower, otherwise it will run all over the ground int the house. I have no idea how it works.) Anyways, in the true Chinese tradition, vast amounts of food was forced into my small rice bowl, and they joined my family in laughing at me while I struggled to manipulate my chopsticks into some sort of proper arrangement, which seems impossible if you are not Chinese. (I swear, I think there is a gene for proper chopstick use, and white people just don't have it.)
The only real celebration (that I could see) of the moon festival was us eating moon cakes. Lots and lots of moon cakes. Otherwise, we just watched TV (Keeping Mum, fabulous movie), ate dinner, watched more TV (Ugly Betty this time) and then walked home. Guess what we did at home? You guessed it, watched more TV. This time, we mainly watched celebrations with lots of singing on TV, and my sister and I played with a birdie and paddles (like badminton inside.)
I made two very important discoveries tonight, about the house I live in and about Chinese medicine. First, about the house. On one of the chairs, leaning against where your back goes, there was this thing. Until now, I had no idea what it was. Then my family practically forced me to sit in it, and lean back. It was a back massager. It felt so so so so SO good. If only I had known about that a few days ago, when my back resembled the Rocky Mountains, then life would have been so much better. (Seriously, my back was one huge knot that hurt if I even ran my fingers over it, or if anything touched it. Painful much?) I sat there for 15 minutes until I had to get up. Pure bliss.
My second discovery was not nearly as nice. My Chinese mother had a headache for all of today (I think, remember the language barrier? I still don't know what people are saying to me. I just smile and nod, and hope I haven't just agreed to something bad.) and I guess western medicine just wasn't doing it for her. So she resorted to Chinese medicine. I really didn't understand what was going on when she lifted her hair up, and my Chinese dad pulled out lotion and this scraper looking thing. Then I got really confused when he proceeded to scrape off much of the skin off her neck and upper back, going just to the point of drawing blood. I must have looked worried, because my mother said "Don't worry, is Chinese medicine. Makes me feel less pressure." Yeah, that's because all the blood that was in your brain is now trying to figure out why half your skin is missing. That's all I'm saying. :) But really, it was kinda scary. I would rather deal with the headache, myself. I quite like my skin being exactly where it is, thanks very much.
Tomorrow I'm going to Tian An Men (天安们) Square. I must be improving, because I did understand that much (just kidding, I'm not that stupid. My family seems to understand that for right now, the golden rule is simple sentences only.) Should be fun. Well, that's it, folks!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Extra: The Food, and the Olympics
After experiencing the rest of the night post-blogging, I felt that it was necessary to address the rest of my night. Here it goes.
I have never been so aware of food as I have been here in China. Two nights ago my family gave me an eggplant dish, which looked like old mushrooms encased in snot. Until then, I have never had a food stimulate my gag reflex. But I almost had to run to the restroom. Tonight, I found a boundary that I can't cross. My family ordered this huge soup...thing (that's the only word to describe it, really) and expected me to try some. There were some things that looked suspiciously like liver, and being the picky eater I am, I asked what it was. Mistake number 1. I went into this with a "Don't ask, don't tell" policy, and I violated it. Then, to make things better, my mom answered me before I could tell her to stop. Apparently, the soup was some blood something (looked like liver but wasn't), pork intestine, and some sort of stomach. I was grossed out by looking at it, and I couldn't muster up the courage to eat it, although I did have a staring contest with it for about an hour (which it won, in case you were wondering.) Right now, I still feel like the Beijing duck I ate has come alive and is trying to get out of my stomach. Lovely.
After dinner, my family took me to the Olympics. Not inside, just outside the compound so you could see the buildings. (I did hear the cheering from the track races right before women's disk throwing though.) Although whoever designed the buildings was a genius, because every place where you might be able to get a decent picture was somehow blocked. But it is beautiful at night. The water cube changes color, going from blue/purple to rainbow colors to red/blue. All along the gate outside, there are people peddling tourist gifts, tickets, and shirts. I saw one kid taking a shit outside, in public, which kind of killed the splendor of the place. No joke. I sped past that part. :)
The only bad part of the night was, depending on your standards, a tragedy. I have come to the decision that my yellow penguin flats, which have been the jewel of my eye (or whatever) are too small. They are in the trash as I write. Don't worry though, I don't expect a mourning period.
Hm, this hasn't come out exactly as I had hoped. Maybe I am more tired than I realized. Yet it is only 10 to 9 PM, how lame is that?
I have never been so aware of food as I have been here in China. Two nights ago my family gave me an eggplant dish, which looked like old mushrooms encased in snot. Until then, I have never had a food stimulate my gag reflex. But I almost had to run to the restroom. Tonight, I found a boundary that I can't cross. My family ordered this huge soup...thing (that's the only word to describe it, really) and expected me to try some. There were some things that looked suspiciously like liver, and being the picky eater I am, I asked what it was. Mistake number 1. I went into this with a "Don't ask, don't tell" policy, and I violated it. Then, to make things better, my mom answered me before I could tell her to stop. Apparently, the soup was some blood something (looked like liver but wasn't), pork intestine, and some sort of stomach. I was grossed out by looking at it, and I couldn't muster up the courage to eat it, although I did have a staring contest with it for about an hour (which it won, in case you were wondering.) Right now, I still feel like the Beijing duck I ate has come alive and is trying to get out of my stomach. Lovely.
After dinner, my family took me to the Olympics. Not inside, just outside the compound so you could see the buildings. (I did hear the cheering from the track races right before women's disk throwing though.) Although whoever designed the buildings was a genius, because every place where you might be able to get a decent picture was somehow blocked. But it is beautiful at night. The water cube changes color, going from blue/purple to rainbow colors to red/blue. All along the gate outside, there are people peddling tourist gifts, tickets, and shirts. I saw one kid taking a shit outside, in public, which kind of killed the splendor of the place. No joke. I sped past that part. :)
The only bad part of the night was, depending on your standards, a tragedy. I have come to the decision that my yellow penguin flats, which have been the jewel of my eye (or whatever) are too small. They are in the trash as I write. Don't worry though, I don't expect a mourning period.
Hm, this hasn't come out exactly as I had hoped. Maybe I am more tired than I realized. Yet it is only 10 to 9 PM, how lame is that?
Adventures Outside of Beijing
My day started at 6:45 this morning, first day of Closed Weekend with my family. For some insane reason which I have yet to understand, I have been waking up at the crack of dawn (in my view), always before the alarm on my ancient Chinese phone has gone off. It may be because I am so exhausted at 9:00 that I pass out on my bed, but I think something in Beijing is getting to me. Along with getting up at the wee hours of the morning, I also seem to be losing my hair at a faster rate than normal. This worries me (as it should). I quite like my hair and want it to stay on my head, and not in the trash. Even though I seem to be fighting nature to keep it blonde. My genes just aren't with me on this one.
Anyway, back to my day. Despite my being here a week, the language barrier remains alive and kicking, and I still, at 8:00 this morning, had no idea where we were going (even though I must have asked a couple times). All I could understand out of the gibberish my family threw my way was "tunnel." To me, that didn't sound particularly interesting or specific. At first I thought that we were going to my "Aunts" house, and she had a tunnel in the basement or something. Instead, we started to drive outside of Beijing (lovely drive, lots of new and exciting things to see). We had not even been on the road for 10 minutes (or made 10 people jump out of the way of our car yet) before my family said "Look over there!" And there it was. The Water Cube. And close by, the Birds Nest. I just started laughing these huge, hysterical laughs. I finally saw in person what everyone in the world has been watching on tv for months. It was incredible, and even I, a foreigner, could feel the pride and power radiating from it. Seeing it on TV doesn't even begin to compare.
Once we got past that, the drive was rather uneventful, aside from the tons (and I mean that literally) of corn that was laid out on the side of the road. Seriously, there were people husking corn on the road, and then getting the kernels and drying them out on the road. I couldn't get a straight answer for why they did this, other than that it was a hot day. It kinda makes you wonder where the food you eat has been though. That's all I'm saying. (I will post pictures later.) At the end of the road, we finally got to our destination: the Chinese/Japanese war museum. Although most of the text was in Chinese, obviously, I did try to look at many of the grisly pictures (one in particular I remember showed the body of a young man, covered in blood, with his head on backwards. Just imagine the thoughts that would go through your head with no explanation. Yeah.) And then we got to the tunnel.
From what I could understand, apparently during the war, the Chinese built an extensive tunnel system around Beijing, where they could safely blow the enemy to bits and protect the villagers. There is a part that is still standing and open to the public, and that is the part that my sister, me and my mother (both Chinese) walked through. Now, I have always thought of myself as non-claustrophobic, but I have also never been in a crowded tunnel before (and in true Chinese tradition, there were quite a lot of people down there with me.) So as I fought down the rising panic, I tried to focus on the Chinese echoing around me, and the small things I could understand.
After 15 minutes of walking through relatively dark and cool (although surprisingly clean and well kept) tunnels, we emerged at another end of the museum. It was traditional Chinese houses and watch towers, all constructed around the time the tunnel was built (which was in 1944, by the way.) Then the picture taking began. Me in the bedroom, me by the ancient wok, me and my sister in front of the watchtower, my mother and I, the whole family... I swear, my Chinese mother was like a kid at Christmas with my camera, while I hovered protectively like the mother hen because I (unlike them) knew that the battery in my camera was on it's last legs and desperately needed to get to the nearest outlet.
After our museum experience, the family piled back into the car and shot off home. I thought we were going out to lunch first, but we made a quick pit stop at a local outlet store. My host dad found a couple jackets he liked (apparently my middle aged father likes to pretend he's 20) and proceeded to find out that they were out of cash and the bank cards weren't working. I lent them the emergency 100 RMB needed to buy the jackets, and we drove to the Aunt's house for lunch, because we had no money to go out. We were probably there for 2 hours, and I understood maybe 20 words. Total. I would get questions fired at me, in Chinese, going a mile a minute, and if I looked confused (which I normally did. Wouldn't you??) they simply moved on to talking to each other.
Now I am at home, trying to get my energy up to go eat Beijing duck for dinner. What more could you want, Beijing duck in Beijing? I can die happy now. I think that we are also going to the Olympic green (you know what I mean) tonight, but I'm not quite clear on that. I'm still waiting for the time when I can understand my family without them speaking English.
Well, more later. I will be adding either pictures or a flickr account later, it is currently in the works (ie I am too lazy to set one up right now, but I know I need to). Stay tuned for the next episode of: "Surviving in Beijing." Hint: when these posts stop coming out regularly, you'll know that my survival instincts have abandoned me, and I might not be coming home. :) 再见, as they say here in Beijing. Or for those of you who can't speak Chinese, bye!
Anyway, back to my day. Despite my being here a week, the language barrier remains alive and kicking, and I still, at 8:00 this morning, had no idea where we were going (even though I must have asked a couple times). All I could understand out of the gibberish my family threw my way was "tunnel." To me, that didn't sound particularly interesting or specific. At first I thought that we were going to my "Aunts" house, and she had a tunnel in the basement or something. Instead, we started to drive outside of Beijing (lovely drive, lots of new and exciting things to see). We had not even been on the road for 10 minutes (or made 10 people jump out of the way of our car yet) before my family said "Look over there!" And there it was. The Water Cube. And close by, the Birds Nest. I just started laughing these huge, hysterical laughs. I finally saw in person what everyone in the world has been watching on tv for months. It was incredible, and even I, a foreigner, could feel the pride and power radiating from it. Seeing it on TV doesn't even begin to compare.
Once we got past that, the drive was rather uneventful, aside from the tons (and I mean that literally) of corn that was laid out on the side of the road. Seriously, there were people husking corn on the road, and then getting the kernels and drying them out on the road. I couldn't get a straight answer for why they did this, other than that it was a hot day. It kinda makes you wonder where the food you eat has been though. That's all I'm saying. (I will post pictures later.) At the end of the road, we finally got to our destination: the Chinese/Japanese war museum. Although most of the text was in Chinese, obviously, I did try to look at many of the grisly pictures (one in particular I remember showed the body of a young man, covered in blood, with his head on backwards. Just imagine the thoughts that would go through your head with no explanation. Yeah.) And then we got to the tunnel.
From what I could understand, apparently during the war, the Chinese built an extensive tunnel system around Beijing, where they could safely blow the enemy to bits and protect the villagers. There is a part that is still standing and open to the public, and that is the part that my sister, me and my mother (both Chinese) walked through. Now, I have always thought of myself as non-claustrophobic, but I have also never been in a crowded tunnel before (and in true Chinese tradition, there were quite a lot of people down there with me.) So as I fought down the rising panic, I tried to focus on the Chinese echoing around me, and the small things I could understand.
After 15 minutes of walking through relatively dark and cool (although surprisingly clean and well kept) tunnels, we emerged at another end of the museum. It was traditional Chinese houses and watch towers, all constructed around the time the tunnel was built (which was in 1944, by the way.) Then the picture taking began. Me in the bedroom, me by the ancient wok, me and my sister in front of the watchtower, my mother and I, the whole family... I swear, my Chinese mother was like a kid at Christmas with my camera, while I hovered protectively like the mother hen because I (unlike them) knew that the battery in my camera was on it's last legs and desperately needed to get to the nearest outlet.
After our museum experience, the family piled back into the car and shot off home. I thought we were going out to lunch first, but we made a quick pit stop at a local outlet store. My host dad found a couple jackets he liked (apparently my middle aged father likes to pretend he's 20) and proceeded to find out that they were out of cash and the bank cards weren't working. I lent them the emergency 100 RMB needed to buy the jackets, and we drove to the Aunt's house for lunch, because we had no money to go out. We were probably there for 2 hours, and I understood maybe 20 words. Total. I would get questions fired at me, in Chinese, going a mile a minute, and if I looked confused (which I normally did. Wouldn't you??) they simply moved on to talking to each other.
Now I am at home, trying to get my energy up to go eat Beijing duck for dinner. What more could you want, Beijing duck in Beijing? I can die happy now. I think that we are also going to the Olympic green (you know what I mean) tonight, but I'm not quite clear on that. I'm still waiting for the time when I can understand my family without them speaking English.
Well, more later. I will be adding either pictures or a flickr account later, it is currently in the works (ie I am too lazy to set one up right now, but I know I need to). Stay tuned for the next episode of: "Surviving in Beijing." Hint: when these posts stop coming out regularly, you'll know that my survival instincts have abandoned me, and I might not be coming home. :) 再见, as they say here in Beijing. Or for those of you who can't speak Chinese, bye!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Beijing, Take 1
Ever since I started taking Chinese, I knew that I wanted to live in China. I just didn't know how to get there. So instead, I just studied Chinese, thinking that I was getting better, and didn't sound like such an incompetent American. Well, they say ignorance is bliss, and man, was my life in America blissful.
Nothing could prepare me for Beijing (北京）. Sure, I got a tutor, and talked to her twice a week. And yes, I did study when I could, practicing my tones and writing out the characters. But really, I was screwed. That became painfully obvious about 1 week ago, when I found myself in the heart of Beijing. I stepped off the bus (after a 12 hour plane ride), met my family, and proceeded to feel all the Chinese I had learned dash out of my head as though it was preparing for the 100 meter sprint at the Olympics. Going home with my family seemed terrifying, as I could already tell that we had a little bit of a communication issue. My only thought was, charades anyone?
My school is quite nice (granted, most things compared to Davis High are). The only problem is, getting to my classroom is a bit of a struggle. Turns out (and they didn't put this in the brochure when I signed up, fyi) that we have to walk up 6 flights of stairs before we get to level of the building that all the SYA classrooms are on. Naturally my first thought went to the elevator that I saw when I walked into the door. But no, that is only used for cargo, and teachers. So while our teachers get rocketed up 6 flights of stairs by modern technology, the rest of us students walk up, arriving to class drenched in sweat and out of breath. Lovely.
But I am painting the wrong picture of my time here in Beijing. This was not my intention I swear. I am simply trying to point out that adjusting to life here was not something I could have anticipated. This city is so different from small town Davis, where everything is normal and safe. Here, it is an adventure just getting to school. If there is a strong system by which the traffic moves, I haven't discovered it yet. Instead, you see people jumping out of the way of buses and taxi's as they sit on their horns and speed through intersections. I have gotten to be a much better biker, needless to say.
There are a bunch of nice little shops, hairdressers, and everything you could possible want everywhere in Beijing. In fact, to the right of the school gates and down the first alley way is a nice little dumpling place that people go to for lunch and during free time. Mostly during free time, I just sit in the quietest room I can find and try to put a dent in my homework load. Normally, I get sidetracked. But I love the atmosphere here. Most of the other 53 Americans that came with me on this new adventure are very nice and very chatty. I have made some good friends here. Maybe I will even be able to keep in touch with them after this, who knows?
Hm, it is time for me to do more homework. More later. Because I am new to the whole blogging business, I'm not very good at writing them. However, they will get better, I promise. Just bear with me. :) peace out.
Nothing could prepare me for Beijing (北京）. Sure, I got a tutor, and talked to her twice a week. And yes, I did study when I could, practicing my tones and writing out the characters. But really, I was screwed. That became painfully obvious about 1 week ago, when I found myself in the heart of Beijing. I stepped off the bus (after a 12 hour plane ride), met my family, and proceeded to feel all the Chinese I had learned dash out of my head as though it was preparing for the 100 meter sprint at the Olympics. Going home with my family seemed terrifying, as I could already tell that we had a little bit of a communication issue. My only thought was, charades anyone?
My school is quite nice (granted, most things compared to Davis High are). The only problem is, getting to my classroom is a bit of a struggle. Turns out (and they didn't put this in the brochure when I signed up, fyi) that we have to walk up 6 flights of stairs before we get to level of the building that all the SYA classrooms are on. Naturally my first thought went to the elevator that I saw when I walked into the door. But no, that is only used for cargo, and teachers. So while our teachers get rocketed up 6 flights of stairs by modern technology, the rest of us students walk up, arriving to class drenched in sweat and out of breath. Lovely.
But I am painting the wrong picture of my time here in Beijing. This was not my intention I swear. I am simply trying to point out that adjusting to life here was not something I could have anticipated. This city is so different from small town Davis, where everything is normal and safe. Here, it is an adventure just getting to school. If there is a strong system by which the traffic moves, I haven't discovered it yet. Instead, you see people jumping out of the way of buses and taxi's as they sit on their horns and speed through intersections. I have gotten to be a much better biker, needless to say.
There are a bunch of nice little shops, hairdressers, and everything you could possible want everywhere in Beijing. In fact, to the right of the school gates and down the first alley way is a nice little dumpling place that people go to for lunch and during free time. Mostly during free time, I just sit in the quietest room I can find and try to put a dent in my homework load. Normally, I get sidetracked. But I love the atmosphere here. Most of the other 53 Americans that came with me on this new adventure are very nice and very chatty. I have made some good friends here. Maybe I will even be able to keep in touch with them after this, who knows?
Hm, it is time for me to do more homework. More later. Because I am new to the whole blogging business, I'm not very good at writing them. However, they will get better, I promise. Just bear with me. :) peace out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
