Goodbyes and Airport Fun

Amazingly, I actually managed to fit everything into a suitcase, duffel bag, backpack and purse, barely meeting the airline requirements.  This was definitely an exercise in creativity.  Host dad (bless him) lugged my suitcase down the stairs, and we waited for the lady from my program to come pick me up.  I thanked him sincerely for everything he and his family have done for me over the last month, to which he replied, “Jin Jing [my Chinese name], you are not trouble.  We have the Aiya that comes to cook and clean; everything else we would do for ChengCheng anyway.  Next time you can just call me and tell me when you want to come—I can call the University if you want to take classes again, and I can come to get you at the airport.  You should just call me.” 

Bless him.

Lisa, the lady from my program, arrived, and the driver helped me pile everything in the trunk and backseat.  I waved goodbye to Host dad, and we were off.  The drive took about half an hour, during which Lisa and I talked over the grating chirping of a toy cricket that was hanging from the rearview mirror.  “Your Chinese has improved,” she said.  “When we picked you up from the airport, you didn’t understand a whole lot; just now I’ve only had to translate a few phrases for you.”  Of course, when she had picked me up from the airport it had been midnight and I hadn’t slept in about 2 days, but I will take her kind comment as a sign of at least some success.  She asked me to write a recommendation for their program, which I gladly agreed to do, and told me that the next time I come to China, I’ll have to stay longer and travel more.  She told me about host families they have in Shanghai, Guanzhou, Tibet, and other places…I told her that I really want to return, but wasn’t sure when I’d get the chance.  We’ll see.  Just as a side note, if you’re interested in coming to China to study (adults as well), I highly recommend the homestay program.  E-mail me if you want more details about the program I was with.

We arrived at the Beijing Airport in plenty of time for me to say goodbye to Lisa, pay the airport construction tax (they’re going to build a new airport for the 2008 Olympics), and start waiting in lines.  And then wait in other lines.  And then sit down and wait some more.  And then change gates and wait some more.  Apparently China Eastern was having some mechanical difficulties, so we were switched to an Air China flight to Shanghai.  We were a few hours late leaving Beijing.  We got to Shanghai and were quickly herded to our connecting China Eastern flight—after we picked up our luggage and re-checked it at a different baggage station.  Thankfully, I had met Kui, a 10-year Phoenix resident originally from Beijing, and he was kind enough to fill in the gaps for me when my Chinese couldn’t handle the instructions.  Although Kui is an engineer, he originally studied social science and remains extremely interested in history, culture, and world events.  He wanted to hear about my impressions of Beijing and the Chinese people and just talk about things in general—I of course was thrilled; I had finally met a Chinese person as interested in culture, history and international relations as myself, and he could speak fluent English!  Even more amazing/exciting, I learned that Kui is a Christian!!  On the flight to LA, when I wasn’t sleeping, Kui and I were talking, and the length of the flight didn’t seem too terrible.

We arrived in Los Angeles 20 minutes before my flight to Dallas was supposed to depart, and still had to clear customs, which meant of course that I had to claim my luggage.  This process took over half an hour.  Lovely.  I said goodbye and thanked Kui, then rushed off to find the American Airlines counter, only to wait in yet another line.  By the time I got to the counter my plane had been 45 minutes gone.  As I was waiting on information about other connecting flights, I heard the lady at the counter next to mine say “Dui bu qi, wo ting bu dong!”  (I’m sorry, I don’t understand!).  Having had occasion to use “ting bu dong” many many times during my month in Beijing, I could understand and sympathize with this distressed Chinese lady.  In Chinese, I offered to try and translate.  Both the Chinese lady and the lady behind the counter were surprised, but relieved.  I made sure that the lady and I were on the same flight and helped her call her son, who was picking her up in Dallas.  I was excited to put my study to use.  Thankfully, I was able to understand almost all of what the lady said, and could translate enough of the English instructions of the airline personnel to get their point across. I’m really glad I was able to help someone else after Mr. Li helped me on the way to Beijing and Mr. Kui helped me on the way home. 

I got to Dallas at about 10:30 p.m. and checked in to a nice little Comfort Inn, frustrated not to be in Huntsville with my family, but excited about the prospect of a shower and an air conditioned room.  Woke up to a 5:30 wake up call, which wasn’t that bad since my body is so confused that it didn’t know it was early.  I ate cereal for breakfast for the first time in a month, then went back to the airport to wait some more.  A short plane hop, which seemed longer because of my eagerness to get there, then finally HOME!

Home

Finally.  More to follow.

Last things

 My stay in China is (sadly) coming to its end.  I’ve arranged a ride to the airport for Thursday, and have started to think about packing…I may need to think about where the nearest FedEx office is, as I’m not sure my suitcase will handle all of my purchases…Anyway, I thought now might be a good time to answer one of the questions I’ve gotten:  what do I miss from home? 

Well, I of course miss my family and friends, and I miss being able to just pick up the phone and call then whenever, without having to subtract 13 hours in my head to decide if they’ll be awake or not.  I’m looking forward to seeing you all soon!!    

I miss going to Church.  I thought about trying to go here, and if I had more time I’d definitely work on finding a church, but I don’t know how to go about finding one, and with my current vocabulary I don’t think I would be able to understand much of what was said anyway.  I know God goes with me everywhere, and this is an awesome comfort, but I do miss the fellowship and music of the church.  Thanks to everyone who’s been praying for me!!    

I also really miss convenient internet access.  The host fam has a computer with internet, but it’s old and slow.  It’s only a little slower than the internet at the internet cafés, however; I’m not sure, but I think the problem is that there are only 3 or 4 internet providers in China for a pretty big number of users—the system just gets bogged down.  And then there’s the censoring by the Commies…I actually can’t see my own blog—thanks to the fam back in Huntsville for posting what I send them.  I also can’t get to the other blogs and news sites that I regularly read, which really frustrates me.  I’ve had to resign myself to badly translated CCTV, occasionally CNN, and old Economist and Newsweek magazines.  An interesting side note, though, I’ve actually been able to watch some of the Chinese TV; the sitcoms are terrible, but the vocabulary is easy enough that I can catch a lot of what is said, and the character subtitles help as well.    

And, other silly things…I miss the washing machine and dryer at home.  The host fam has a washing machine, but first you have to hand wash everything, then you put the clothes in the machine to rinse and spin, then you hang everything up to dry.  It’s a fun time.  This last load came out smelling pretty clean, though, so I guess I’ve gotten the hang of it.  And as much as I love red bean ice cream, I miss real chocolate.  The Chinese are pretty good at custard and have some very tasty desserts, but for some reason chocolate just isn’t the same.  Add that to the list of reasons why fat Chinese people are hard to find…What else…oh, I miss my car, and the independence that comes with it.  Although I will say that the subway’s easy, taxis are very convenient, and even if I had a car here the traffic is so crazy I’d be almost afraid to drive, even if there were the possibility of finding a parking space.    

So really, I can’t complain.  It makes me laugh that the State Department considers China a hardship post…Beijing on an American salary would allow pretty luxurious living.  Beijing on a student’s budget is pretty nice.  And the experience was, without a doubt, worth hand washing my clothes and missing the latest news from the blogosphere.

Beijing

    Haven't posted in a while; I've been busy exploring Beijing.  Last Sunday I went with host mom and host sis to the Forbidden City, which was the Emperor's palace throughout the Ming and Qing Dynasties and is now open to the public.  The day started out rainy, and it drizzled on and off allday, but this didn't deter the huge crowds from showing up--all of the umbrellas just made navigating gates and walkways that much moreinteresting.  The architecture of the Forbidden City is beautiful, and with a little effort ¡t's possible to get a sense of the immense history of the place in spite of the crowds.  I don't think I'd go back, though.  Dealing with that kind ofcrowd on the subway isn't too bad, but it gets old after a few hours at a place like the Forbidden City.  And, like I said, the umbrellas complicatedthings even further.  Oh well--at least it wasn't hot.    

Monday I went to watch a Wushu (Chinese martial arts) class.  I found the school through the internet, and had my host dad call about specifics; the owner ended up speaking excellent English, so I talked to him myself.  On Monday afternoon he met me at a bookstore on one of the big market streets and took me to the school, which I never would have found on my own, even with directions.  The school is in what's called a Hutong--a reallynarrow street between buildings that sometimes leads to a courtyard or larger space between buildings.  The old building, built in a traditional Chinese style, is a really neat atmosphere for a class.  The school teaches several styles of martial arts.  The style of the class that I attended wasa combination of several Chinese techniques as well as techniques from other styles--designed to enable Wushu students to fight in international competitions.  I ended up participating and was able to at least keep up, if I didn't get everything exactly right.  The teachers, one older Chinese man and one in his early twenties, were thankfully both very patient, and there was an American lady taking the class that could translate when necessary.   (My vocabulary just can't handle 'sidestep at a 35 degree angle and and kick with the instep of the foot to the upper calf of a rushing attacker.)  I got a good workout, as well as an interesting cultural experience.    

Yesterday I had lunch with Patty, the girl that I sat next to on the plane ride from LA.  Patty's parents are Chinese, but she didn't speak itat all when she came three weeks ago; she's learned a lot, but my Chinese is still a lot better than hers is.  We laughed when the waitresses kept addressing her and I had to translate.     After lunch, we went to Hong Qiao, the pearl market.  This was quite an experience.  The indoor market is massive; three floors of booths that cover an area of at least a couple of blocks.  The first floor has electronics,'soo-vih-neers,' toys, etc., it's a random hodgepodge of items.  The second floor has suitcases, bags, clothes, jackets, silk...­if you wear it or carry it it's probably sold here.  The third floor is divided into an antique/crafts/paintings section and a huge pearl and bead section, from which the market gets its English name.  Patty and I spent all afternoon in the market, only leaving when it closed, around 7:00.  We both practiced our bargaining skills and our Chinese, although almost all of the vendors spoke at least some English.  When we climbed into the taxi to go to the subway station, each with full backpacks and other bags besides, we pronounced our excursion a success.

English Lessons

As a student in a foreign country, I often experience random moments of hilarity. There was listening to the latest Eminem song on the radio in the car with the host parents...Host mom said that she couldn't understand the words; I smiled at her and thought to myself, "That's almost certainly for the best." There was realizing that the Chinese word for yogurt is translated literally, "sour milk." There was hearing one of my classmates, intending to ask the professor if he might ask a question, confuse the pronunciation and ask instead if he might kiss him. These moments aren't uncommon, and their randomness makes them that much more fun.

The random moments are always fun, but I can always look forward to a good laugh when I help my host sis with her English. Every college graduate in China must pass a series of English exams, of which there are four levels. The book that my host sister is using is the study book for the second exam, the one that her class is using. It has dialogues, articles, and preposition and pronoun fill-in-the-blank sections, ­and it definitely wasn't written by a native English speaker. That's not to say that it doesn't have sophisticated vocabulary; in fact, much of it is quite difficult. And it's obvious that the authors had studied English idioms and common phrases. It's just little syntax convolutions or awkward phrasing that gives it's origin away. Aside from the funny phrasing, the subject matter of the articles is often quite humorous. ChengCheng and I have read about weather conditions in the United States, Baby Boomers, Stratford-upon-Avon, and the changing relationship between bosses and employees, to name a few. To give you a better idea of the comic side of these lessons, I've decided just to give you some quotations:

(Talking about the cost of a Chinese cartoon)
"Small peanuts to Disney, perhaps, but in a country in which actually all local production houses have turned away from this form because it isn't likely to make profits, the amount ain't exactly spare change either."

(A little more morbid, from an article titled: "The Boys With Arms")
"Imagine fifteen-year old Kipland Kinkel in Springfield, Ore., chatting with two friends on a three-way phone call May 20, probably while his father's dead body lay on the floor, a bullet drilled through his body."

(From one of several selections about Western music)
"Punk is best known as a musical style. Songs were short, loud, and angry. They grabbed people's attention. This was partly because people formed bands first and learned to play afterward if they bothered to learn at all."

This is just a small sample, the book really is a comic gem.

The other night, host mom asked if I might help her with her pronunciation on some stuff for her work. (I will insert the side-note here, that when ChengCheng told me her mom made rockets she wasn't lying, host mom is apparently the chief engineer in her plant, which works on the Chinese manned space flight craft.) She gave me a pamphlet and asked me to read each sentence first, and then she would repeat it. This was a different kind of funny from ChenChen's English work. I struggled to remember my scientific abbreviations as I clearly enunciated (host-mom was taping this) sentences such as, "Plasma immersion ion implantation is a non-line of sight novel technique." Lovely. So, Host mom got an English lesson, and I was reminded why I decided not to major in physics or chemistry.

FOOD

I've (sadly) passed the halfway mark of my stay in China, and my supply of American cereal bars remains almost entirely untouched. I've really enjoyed delving into Chinese cuisine; whether folding jaozi (Chinese dumplings) or ordering lunch in the cafeteria, eating is always an adventure. I think Host Dad has finally stopped worrying that I don't like the food, although it took me awhile to get my point across. About one week into my stay, he asked me what I was accustomed to eating, what I liked best, etc. I tried to explain that he needn't worry about me liking the food; "I'm really not picky," I said, "I'll eat just about anything." We talked for a few more minutes, and he said, "O.k., so you can eat anything, except for 'pig-ky.'" I laughed and went to get my English-Chinese dictionary.

The biggest adjustments food-wise have had more to do with logistics rather than taste. For starters, the Chinese don't usually set the table with napkins. This makes chopstick proficiency very important. Also, some dishes are just plain hard to eat; I'm pretty good with the chopsticks, but I stop short of using them to peel boiled shrimp. The host fam just had to excuse me using my fingers on that one. I did manage ribs though, and I've gotten really good with fried eggs. I think perhaps the labor-intensive dishes, along with the practice of only taking small bits of food at a time from a shared plate, help to explain why fat people are rare in China.

I'm always excited to see what host dad will set out for breakfast. The one constant is the warm milk. Often fried eggs are included with the meal, but after that it gets much more random. Sometimes breakfast includes left-overs from dinner, sometimes packaged goodies; ­it varies. This morning Host Dad gave me warm milk, a fried egg, garlic toast, and a giant creme puff in the shape of an ice-cream cone.  I laugh about this every time I think about it.

On weekdays I almost always eat lunch in the cafeteria. Besides the fun of seeing if what I receive matches what I think I've ordered, there are some foods that I really like. Baozi, for example, I will miss when I return to the U.S. A baozi is a big dumpling/bun made from really thick dough that usually has some kind of filling (sometimes meat and veggies, sometimes bean paste, sometimes sugar¡­discovering what's inside is half of the fun.) I will also miss the red-bean Popsicles, of course, and the tea¡­Host Dad's promised to take me tea-shopping before I leave. Other than this, I really like the "Fragrant Spice Beef Shreds" from the cafeteria, which are served on top of some kind of shoot, maybe asparagus, or some kind of bean? I've also had some excellent tofu and some wonderful eggplant. Oh, and I've finally figured out how to properly pronounce "lo mein," so I can order this whenever I like. I don't have enough nerve to try the "Suitable for Eating Tree-Fungus" however. There are limits to my adventurousness.

The Adventure Continues...

This morning I thought I was going to be a part of a massive traffic disaster when our bus (that's right, bus) decided to pass another bus (right again, BUS) on the wrong side of the road. When the driver honked at the oncoming traffic, however, those vehicles slid over into the bicycle lane, and the bicycles either swerved or pulled over. The Chinese people on the bus didn't even seem to notice. It was at this point that I decided just to stop watching the road.

All week I've been taking the bus to class; well, I've been taking the shuttle bus from the apartment complex to the public bus station and then the public bus to the campus. The shuttle bus driver is pretty aggressive, but at least he only passes cars on the wrong side of the road and not
busses.

Class wasn't nearly as exciting as the ride to class, but that was quite alright with me. Our first professor is always really entertaining. He obviously enjoys his job, and he's good at it as well. He's often a little blunt in his correction, but it's always offered and taken in good fun. As he likes to say, we're students; there's no loss of face in making mistakes or asking questions. The second two hours are more of a struggle. Our second professor's English isn't as good, and class isn't nearly as engaging. This combination means that I have to force myself to pay attention and make the effort to understand what the professor's saying (It's good practice, though). After class I went to the cafeteria for lunch. The food is pretty good, and it's really inexpensive. The menus are all in characters, however; some of which I can read and some of which I have to guess at. Today I tried to order a chicken and noodle dish. I told the man at the window what I wanted, but when he repeated it back to me it wasn't the same thing. I told him again, he again repeated something different, ­I smiled and nodded. Fortunately, the result of this interchange was a tasty little noodle bowl. I'm really not too concerned about ordering something gross; the meals cost about $0.75 on average, so if I don't like what I get I'll just buy something different, although I haven't had to do this yet. It's just fun to feel adventurous.

After class I went to the grocery store to buy ingredients for tomorrow's breakfast, which I've offered to cook for the host family. I've already described the grocery store, so you know that just going is an adventure. Trying to find specific items was even more exciting. The bacon was pretty straight-forward since it comes in a clear package. The eggs and milk for French toast weren't too hard either, but cinnamon was a little more of a challenge. I actually knew the characters for what I was looking for, so I found the spice isle and proceeded to search, displacing random shop assistants as I looked. The best I could do was cinnamon sticks. That will do. The store had about 10 kinds of honey but no syrup. Oh well. Next on the list: powdered sugar. I found the sugar and started poking at packages trying to decide which one was what I needed. There were a couple of packages that seemed right, but they said things like "Infant-suitable kind" and "For Adults," ­so figuring that powdered sugar shouldn't be age-specific, I passed over these packages. I found one that looked o.k. and headed to the check out counter. After leaving the store with my purchases, I decided to stop for a bottled water at one of the corner concession stands that are all over Beijing. Here I made the most exciting discovery of the day---red bean popsicles!!! I love red bean ice cream, but that's Japanese, so I didn't think I'd find it in China. The popsicle was made out of the same stuff! I happily paid the vendor one "kuai," about 13 cents, and went on my way. A short taxi ride later I was back at the apartment. I put away the refrigerated items for tomorrow's breakfast, and checked out the spices.

The cinnamon worked out well; host dad had the great idea to crush it with a rolling pin, which took some elbow grease but produced suitable powder. I wasn't so lucky with the powdered sugar, however. It turned out to be either baking powder or baking soda. Sigh. Oh well. I guess the host family won't know the difference. After I put everything away, I went to play ping pong with host dad in the 'game room' of the apartment complex. This is a big room under one of the buildings;I think it might have been built as a parking garage. It has a pool table, some tables, bookshelves with books, a plastic ball pit like they have at McDonalds playplaces in the states, and two ping pong areas that were fenced in so that run-away balls won't escape. I haven't played ping pong in years, but this went much better than tennis had a couple of days before. Host dad coached me on proper ping pong technique, and I was able to give him a decent game. We played for awhile and went back to the apartment for dinner. The adventure continues, even when the itinerary
doesn't include exploration, per se.

*I've been asked to explain squat toilets. Basically they're holes in the floor that flush. Some are nicer than others. I've taken pictures, which I'll try to post once I get back home.

**Breakfast turned out o.k., thank goodness.

The Summer Palace

Early Sunday morning I set out with my host parents to the "Yi He Yuan," Summer Palace. Once the summer residence of the Qing Dynasty Emperors, this large park is now open to the public. It is a major tourist attraction, as well as being popular with the local population. Host mom and dad have year-long passes and go there often to exercise. Sunday morning I joined host dad in his run, and then we explored for a while. The day was absolutely beautiful, as were the surroundings. The Summer Palace is an oasis of green in a concrete city, and it proudly displays the rich cultural history that is fast being replaced by high rises elsewhere in Beijing. A huge man-made lake is surrounded by century-old willow trees and walking paths, and a Buddhist temple sits on the hill made by the excavation of the lake. Ornate marble bridges span smaller corners of the lake. Part of the park is a canal-street modeled after a city in Southern China--a Chinese version of Venice in miniature. All of the buildings are traditional Chinese architecture, and I was delighted to discover the Chinese version of gargoyles guarding the eaves of many of these buildings. The host parents and I wandered through an outside corridor containing hundreds of paintings that depict scenes from Chinese legends. Once again, I was stopped by a Chinese tourist who wanted a picture with me. Hehehe. The host parents got a laugh out of this as well. In any case, I thoroughly enjoyed the morning.