What is she doing this time?
This is kind of random, but I can't believe Arnold Schwarzenegger is governor of California. I know that is old news (and yes, I did hear about it at the time, China isn't that "luo hou" (backward)). Actually, I was in Xi'an when I heard about his victory. Some friends and I were talking to a man selling paintings on the street and he told us that he heard on the news that sh----- had won the election in California. We looked a little confused, so he said, "you know, that Austrian actor who makes all those movies. We were really agitated, so he told us to relax, after all, wasn't Schwarzenegger quite handsome?" (It was kind of ironic that the only way I hear about American news is from street vendors, it really is surreal to feel like the average Chinese peasant knows more about what is happening in the world than I do.)
However, later when we asked this vendor if he would ever want to visit America, he gave us a look of disgust. "No way" he said "not with Bush as your President, I don't think I would feel welcome." Time and time again I get asked by Chinese people, "you live in a free country, you can elect whoever you want as president, how come you ended up with Bush?" I don't think I have an answer.
This Monday night we went to see a play called "rhinocerous in love." It was a postmodern (postmodernism is houxiandaizhuyi--hou means "post" xian dai means "modern" and zhu yi means "ism") play about love. The basic plot (if you could say it had one) is there is a zoo keeper named ma lu who loves his neighbor, ming ming, but she loves an artist, who doesn't love her. In the middle of the night, she comes to ma lu, mistaking him for her lover, and tells him she loves him, but denies it in the day time. He takes a 'how to love class, where he learns English and how to drive' in order to win ming ming's love, but it doesn't work. Then ma lu wins the lottery, but ming ming won't except his money and refuses to love him. In desperation, he ties her up in his rhinocerous cage and kills his rhino for her. There is a lot more to the play, but I have no clue how to describe it. I wish my Chinese were a little better, I have a feeling I would understand the deeper meaning better if I understood more of the dialogue. Still, I really liked the play, it was very postmodern in a uniquely Chinese way, (at least from what I understood of it).
Yesterday, we also went to an all girls middle and highschool to spend the day with the students. The students were between the ages of about 13-18. The school was also very fancy, probably on par with the kindergarten. In the morning, all the students in matching warm up suits did collective excercizes/dancing out on a field, it seemed reminiscent of those Soviet collective excercizes, I couldn't imagine anything happening like that in America.
This weekend, I met with my Chinese host family and they took me and my "older brother," one of my classmates, to Beihai, the oldest park in China (and maybe the world, it's over 1,000 years old) and Houhai, a trendy area behind Beihai (hou means "behind" or "in back of") the park full of bars, Tibetan tourist shops, and waiguoren, or foreigners. There we met up with their incredibly hip 27 year old nephew, and he gave me and my 'brother' a ride on his motorcycle. It is the first motorcyle I've ever ridden in, and it was particularly cool. It was black with a side car, had British flags painted on the side, an American army canvas cover on the side car with a dragon painted on by his artist friends, a several ratty Chinese flags on the back. We rode through incredibly narrow alleyways, almost hit several little old men, and of course, got stuck in a few traffic jams (some how, people in minivans just don't seem to realize that if a motorcycle barely fits, there is no way a minivan is going to fit). I definitely think that if the VW bug finally dies, a motorcycle would be a good replacement.
Last Friday, for our language practicum, we went to this montessori-boarding school kindergarten. In China, kindergarten goes from age 2-6 and is not provided by the government. The principle told us that it was a fairly standard kindergarten, but the fees were over 800 kuai ($100) a month totalling 9600 kuai, well more than many working class Chinese earn in a year (the migrant construction worker told me he made about 800 kuai a year, but that is inconceivably low, even to most Chinese people. I asked a taxi driver how much he earns, and he said about 20,000 kuai a year, which I think is a pretty decent income in China). The kindergarten was very fancy, with blond wood floors and cabinets and lots of modern educational toys like tangrams and wooden blocks. I went to see a classroom of four year olds. They generally refused to talk to me, and when they did, I couldn't understand what they were saying at all. Afterward though, they were very excited to 'help' me read. Kids in China start learning to read, write, and simple arithmatic at age 3 or 4, and to help them, the teachers had posted characters they recognized on the wall. It was nice to know my reading ability is about equal to that of a four year old.
A few British teachers who live in our dorm decided to host a Halloween party this Saturday night for foreign and graduate students. It was held in what looked like a gym, with balloons, a few halloween decorations, and a disco ball. Everyone had to come in a costume, so I dressed up as a punk and my friend tattooed "badass" (hao han)on my arm in Chinese with a permanent pen. Most of the Chinese grad students were wearing sweater vests and some had a few masks, besides the English and Americans, only the Russian students really were in costume. They also played cheesy dance music and served free beer and soft drinks. I don't think Chinese people really dance very much, especially not economics and business grad students, so it was kind of interesting watching people who have never danced before or who maybe take ballroom dance lessons attempt to dance to hip hop. All in all, it resembled a high school dance, or maybe even a middle school dance, except maybe the free beer part. It was a lot of fun anyways, especially because compared to the Chinese students, we all felt like very good dancers.
The next day I went running, forgetting that I had "bad ass" written on my arm. I couldn't understand why people kept pointing and laughing. Finally, one guy approached me and said, "do you understand what you have written on your arm?"
Talking to some grad students about Chinese-American relations, he said, well, we don't really like your foreign policy, but at least you don't suck as much as Japan. A rousing endorsement of America.
This Thursday, I have to give a 1,000 word rough draft of my independent report to my teacher. Since I really don't know that much about my topic (migrant workers in cities), I decided to do some online research. Thanks to my roommate, I can now access google, but most of the articles I have found so far are from the People's Daily, the official government paper, saying things like, 16 Chinese provinces grant special protection to migrants, and now migrant lives are almost equal to city dwellers, etc. Although of some use, I can't help but suspect that they are maybe a tad biased.
On another note, this afternoon after lunch I went with a classmate of mine to pick up his handmade down jacket. For about 150-200 kuai (about $20) one can get a hand tailored down jacket. We went to a small dingy shop near a bustling and seedy open air market. The shop was lined with huge shapeless puffy jackets reminiscent of soup lines, cement block apartments, and collectivized farming, all of course, in very fetching colors like dust, smoke, cement, and that ubiquitous depressing dirty pink. My friend's jacket was a smoky dark blue and extremely puffy with tight cuffs and a snap-on hood. It also weighed about 10 lbs. I can't decide if it has that "so ugly it's stylish in an urbane tongue-in-cheek way" or if it's just plain ugly. At least it's warm.
It's Friday night, and I have just finished my midterm. It's hard to believe that I've already reached the halfway mark, I feel like I'm just beginning to truly adjust to living in China. I now know what my professor meant when he said that a semester is not enough, it's times like this when I really regret the whole SARS fiasco...
Other news, I finally received my debit card, which until now very safely stored in an ATM machine in Xi'an. Because the banks were all closed for a week and a half, I didn't have any way to exchange traveler's checks before going to Xi'an. Last Saturday afternoon in Xi'an, I went to exchange money, but of course, being Saturday afternoon, the bank was closed (actually, China has about a million different types of banks, only one of which at one can exchange money--of course, the agricultural investment bank and the commercial loan bank were still open). I decided to try my luck with an ATM machine. The first machine I tried rejected my card (I was very excited I could read the "we don't recognize your card" message), but I figured the bank of China ATM with a big Visa/Mastercard sign above ought to work, so I stuck my card. After a very auspicious beginning (i.e., English instruction options), I punched in how much I wanted and waited. The machine rumbled and gave me a receipt, and then stopped. After awhile, the screen reverted to the "please insert your card" message and I began to get a very horrible feeling. Right at that time, it began to rain, and the ubiquitous loudspeakers (which seem to be on every street corner in China, don't ask me why) began to play cheesy romantic music, making me feel like I was in a B rated movie. A large crowd of people gathered wanting to use, so I tried to explain to them what had happened. They were all very sympathetic, but afterall, there was nothing they could do. Eventually, I returned to the hotel and told my teacher, and she said that because it was a foreign card and my password was abnormal, the bank suspected I had stolen it, and was holding it...(I have to go now because the internet cafe is closing)
Over our break, one student who had already gone to Xi'an decided instead to go to visit the third largest Lamasery in the world, in Western China. While he was there, he bought lots of Tibetan prayer flags and hung them up on his balcony at school. The school however, made him take them down because they might not be clean. I can't imagine though, that they are any dirtier than the piles of rubbish and old bicycles sitting in our courtyard.
It is very interesting to observe China-Tibetan relations. One sign at Yong He Gong, a famous Lamasery in Beijing, said that "Tibet is irrevocably a part of the PRC" and then went on, of course, to praise Chinese government policy towards ethnic and religious minorities. In Xi'an, there was a Tibetan store run by two very nice Tibetans in their early 20s. They said that on the whole they liked living in China, and their goal was to educate Han Chinese about Tibetan culture. It is hard to know if that's what they really thought, or if that's all they felt they were unable to express their true thoughts. They seemed however, fairly content and appeared to be doing well; their older brother had just opened up a new store near Beijing. Their store was very interesting, especially because sitting out front was an enormous wooden bong which was only 24 kuai ($3). I was with another boy, and he was strongly considering buying it. He didn't know how to say hole, so he asked me, and since I knew, the Tibetan guy assumed that I must have some great knowledge about bongs, and began to ask me all about bongs in America, and of course, if I could describe them in Chinese. He then offered to let us test the bong with this yellow Tibetan tobacco that was not Marijuana (da ma). Although it was tempting, my classmate ended up not buying the bong because some how he didn't think American customs officers wouldn't be very amenable to his purchase. The best, or at least the most interesting Tibetan item any one almost bought, was the boy who went to the Lamasery in Western China. On the street, a man tried to sell him a real human skull with a swastika and a lightning bolt carved into it. Although morbidly fascinating, it was also incredibly expensive and again, not an easy item to explain to customs officers. Besides, there is something incredibly creepy about owning some dead stranger's body part. However, Christmas and Hanukkah are coming up....
Last Tuesday, our class took a vacation to Xi'an. Our teachers decided the best time to travel is right after the holidays, when everything is relatively (this being China of course) less crowded. Xi'an is 12-17 hours away from Beijing by train, and was the capital of the Zhou, Qin, Han, and Tang dynasties. It is also the location of the terracotta warriors, a temple with Buddha's finger bone, as well as many other famous places. Needless to say, it was quite interesting. The city of Xi'an itself is also interesting. It is an industrial city, and not a lot remains of its really ancient past. On the one hand, it is rapidly modernizing, and its main roads are almost completely full of foreign clothing shops and advertisements. On the other hand, it is a fairly poor city, and down Xi'an's back alleys and side roads you can see the city decay. This was not helped by the fact that it rained nonstop for 4 straight days, meaning that the streets were flooded with putrid water and garbage. Xi'an was also on the silk road, and has one of the oldest Muslim populations outside of Xin Jiang autonomous region. The Muslim quarter was my favorite part of the city. The Lonely Planet describes it as "an exotic feel not found in cities further east" which is a pretty apt description. There were these little narrow streets filled with people hawking food and trinkets under large umbrellas and music and smells wafting through the air. In the middle of the Muslim quarter is China's oldest mosque, which is very beautiful and is built to resemble a pagoda. The food was also amazing, especially in the Muslim quarter. Xi'an is famous for its "xiao chi" or snack type foods, including special soup filled dumplings, mutton and goat shish kebabs, dozens and dozens of different types of pastries and dried fruits, and this soup (pao mo) made with mutton or beef, crumbled bread, cilantro, garlic, and peppers. Most foods are seasoned with Juniper berry, a very distinctive and delicious flavoer which makes your mouth tingle, especially in large quantities. Coming back to Beijing, our train was delayed by three hours because of the rain, and it took 17 hours to arrive in Beijing. That wasn't much of a problem because surprisingly, the train we took was exceedingly pleasant and comfortable. We rode hard bed, which is nicer than hard and soft seat (being as you get a bed) but not as nice as soft bed. Our beds were comfortable and very clean, with a comforter and pillow, as well as hot water and a common toilet that occasionally even had toilet paper (a true luxury). I think train is the best way to travel as you get to see the country side go by. This time of year is harvest time, and the roofs of peasant houses were all yellow because they were covered with ears of corn.
(Because a lot has happened in these two weeks, I have decided to break them up into several blogs, so you can pretend I have written these at different times)
I have finally been in my first accident in China. It actually wasn't much of an accident, but it did involve a lot of shouting, which is very exciting. Every Friday, we have a "language practicum" which involves us going out in small groups and interacting with real Chinese people, so a classmate and I were taking the bus to visit some random Chinese family and invite them out to lunch. We were on the bus for awhile, when it suddenly stopped. Because Beijing traffic is so atrocious, we didn't really think anything about it, but after awhile, the bus still didn't move, and everyone stuck their heads out the window to see what happened. A car had tried to cut us off, and had collided with the bus, not causing much damage to either, but making it fairly hard to move. We all got of the bus and stood around staring. Meanwhile, we were blocking the entire street, so other cars and buses started honking like crazy, making the bus driver and car owner argue even more loudly. Eventually, most traffic just took up driving on the wrong side of the street or in the bike lane, so things got a little better. Finally, a rather large lady with frizzy red hair barged in and took charge, and after about 5 more minutes, we got back on the bus and rode off as though nothing had happened.
Well, hello everyone, I am actually not dead, I just have not been able to access a computer (or at least, the internet) for the past two weeks. The week before last was Chinese independence day, which is maybe the equivalent of Christmas. Everything shuts down for a week and a half, and everyone (except for us lowly foreign exchange students) gets at least a week off. There is a main street in front of our school and it is normally packed with cars, buses, bicycles, and people, so it was eerie to go outside and see the street completely empty, or walk around and see no one except for the occasional peddler (I guess migrant peasant workers also don't get the week off). The best part about the national holidays though, is that Tian'anmen square and the streets around it are completely lit up, with huge displays and great wall reproductions in flowers and signs and fountains and even a huge picture of Sun Yat Sen (Sun Zhong Shan) set up facing the huge picture of Mao. Perhaps the Communist Party does have a sense of irony after all. We (being me) all walked around waving our little red flags and singing "the East is Red" my favorite Cultural revolution song (much more addicting than "Socialism is Good")
On one of the days, my friend and I decided to get up early and go to Tian'amen and see the flag raising ceremony at dawn. The red guard actually performs this every morning, but because of the holidays, millions of people from all parts of China come to see Tian'anmen, so we decided to join the masses. We got there a little before 6 am, and there were thousands and thousands of people. We could barely see anything, but after some jostling we got a better view. It was amazing to be part of a crowd that big, and there was something so solemn and reverent about the event. When the band played the Chinese national anthem, it became so still you could almost hear the flag rustle in the breeze. It is kind of strange, but it is the closest I have ever come feeling moved by patriotism.
Afterward, we wandered around Tian'anmen, and about 10 different sets of parents asked if they could take a picture of us with their child. Generally the child would hide behind the mother or father and the parent would drag the kid in front of us and order him or her to stand there, and generally after several attempts, the child would finally stand next to us long enough for the parent to take a picture. One the one hand, it's kind of flattering, though on the other hand, it does kind of make me feel self conscious, especially because I'm not used to scaring children.
