Since it took me a month to get that last post up, I figured two in one day would be a good way to redeem myself. Essentially, I was working on the post, trying to craft some nice words for you folks, when my computer did that stupid hibernate thing. I lost half my post and frankly, it royally ticked me off. Before I could brush myself off and make my way back to recreating what I lost, I got sick. This brings me to my topic for today.
If you tell someone you have gotten ill in China, they immediately think food poisoning. It's not an unreasonable guess really. If you come here, you will eventually eat something funky and then you're body will be forced to take action. That's right. That action. Well, there's two really. Not really sure which is worse, except getting both at the same time, which is pretty much just like dying I think. I have been fortunate in this respect so far. I have gotten sick two times, but I don't think it was food poisoning and it was over quickly. Friends of mine, however, have not been as lucky, and usually there is a loss in the downward direction, if you get me. In Chinese, the word is ladutza, which my friend swears is an onomatopoeia, just like "Zap!" "Sizzle" and "Guffaw!" LaDUTza! LaDUUUTza! Shout that in a deep voice in a subway in China. Trust me. Good way to make friends.
Anyway, it wasn't ladutza, but I didn't know what was going on. I felt like I had heartburn, but only in my stomach. It didn't hurt all that much, but it was nothing I had ever felt before. Guess what happens when you feel that way in a foreign country? You freak out.
What if I pass out? What the hey is the number for an ambulance? Wait, didn't people say you'll die in an ambulance, take a cab instead?! Wait, what's the word for hospital?! What's the word for help for that matter??!
It's times like these that I regrettably don't have a proper brown paper lunch sack to hyperventilate into. Luckily, I had a rockin' headache that first day, so instead of totally panicking, I collapsed into a desperate nap. I woke up later with the headache and stomach thing still going strong. Twas a bad day, indeed. Same story the next day too.
Two days later, the headache was finally gone, but the burning, weird feeling in my gut was not. I ate bread and it burned. Cola and fruit were out of the question. Even water was dicey. Very depressing. Well, depressing except for the green light to eat ice cream all the time, since it seemed to settle a bit better than most food and drinks. Sweet!
Even doctor's orders to eat ice cream didn't make me feel that much better once I was going on 4 or 5 days with no improvement. It was about this time that I started feeling hungry all the time, but eating didn't seem to be doing any good, for the pain or the hunger. I had a breakdown at day 6 when things seemed to be getting worse. David called right as I was panicking.
"I don't know how to take care of myself here!" Being alone in a foreign country when you do not feel so hot is just scary, plain and simple. He talked me through how to go to the hospital if I had too, told me I was going to be okay and I felt a little better.
So, after 9 days of this silliness, David took me to see a doc. She was really nice and she spoke English. The place was nice too. Even though I live here, I still get this image of foreign countries being way behind in modern technology and medicine, so I pretty much picture a cholera ward from the turn of the 19th century with people moaning on cots. But it was very modern of course. It was actually a foreigner clinic, so it was even better than most and quite nice. That helped. I wasn't really eager to experience roughing it in a Chinese hospital.
She asked me a bunch of questions and said she would give me meds to reduce stoamch acid and see if that helped. She also gave me meds she said were for protecting the mucus lining in my stomach. Hrm. Great. The lady at the medicine desk (which was in the same place! How convenient!) told me to take the granules, or as I like to call them, mucus granules, three times a day without water. Gagola! Are you serious lady?
"You can take a little sip if you can't get them down, but not much."
Oh how generous. Sounds like a party. Sounds like I will feel sicker after taking them than before. Good plan.
I decided to start the meds the next day. Now, I am not normally very hung up on where things come from or whether they could have asbestos in them, but this is CHINA after all. So I consulted our friend Gregg, who just so happens to be Dr. Gregg. He had already given me advice earlier in the week, but I wanted to run the names of the drugs by him. He had no problem with the pills, but he seemed puzzled by the granules.
"Can you send me the name?"
I sent him the only English words I could find on the packaging. A few minutes later I got a return text message.
"I don't know what that is and it's not in my US drug reference. Maybe stick to the acid meds and tums."
Whoa. That freaked me out a little. Can't say I was disappointed not to have to take the mucus granules, but it was weird. I hadn't expected an unknown drug. Gregg is pretty even keel too, so I knew he was serious when he told me not to take them. Better safe than sorry. Best case, it was just cornstarch or something. Perfectly harmless, but ineffective. Worst case...well, I'd rather not get stomach cancer if I can help it, thank you.
So, I went ahead and popped a pill out of the bubble pack. A little picture was carved into the one side. I flipped it over and my eyes bugged out.
OMG
No, that's what was written on the pill. OMG. Oh my god! My pill says 'OMG'!
My thumb was actually covering the 2 that made it 20MG. The two and zero were the same size as the MG, so it definitely looked like OMG for a second. Ha ha....ha.....ha......It just says 20 mg! No problem! Haha. Right? Ha....gulp.
I threw caution to the wind. Down the hatch. I started to feel better a few days later. So, maybe the OMG sign was more like "Oh My God, a cure!" Well, I guess we'll see once the meds run out. Until then, I'm trying to find creative uses for 3 dozen packs of mucus granules...
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Joyful Apocalypse
We've seen it all before. We stuff our faces all evening with freshly grilled hamburgers and potato salad and maybe some corn on the cob and if we're lucky, apple pie. Everyone gathers on the blankets with an ice cold coke and light sticks and then we wait, eyes to the darkening skies. Then a tell-tale silver streak makes its way from the horizon to above the tree tops and then explodes in a dazzle of strawberry twinkles. Everyone in the neighborhood cheers. We watch for half an hour, as the frequency increases with time, until the stream eventually tumbles into the mass of fire balls, whistles, flashes and bangs that no reputable fireworks show would ever end without. We clap, we smile, we find the cats hiding in the closets, we go to bed.
Ok, so take that, multiply it by 5000, stir in some element of surprise, raise it to the power of echos created by a skyscraper forest and add a healthy dose of crazy men with lighters. That, my friends, was Shanghai on Chinese New Year's Eve.
Year of the Ox!
Fireworks have been set off since the day I arrived in China. The folks in the neighborhood set them off for all sorts of reasons: weddings, festivals, boredom. It's mostly on the weekends and in the small alleys close to our apartment. They set off the loud strings of those suckers, which basically sounds like a pile of bombs lit in the street. But the Spring Festival, which starts with the New Year and goes for about 2 weeks, is the pull out all the stops, take leave of one's senses, fireworks hootenanny extravaganza! Seriously, businesses pay out big bucks for their displays, easily dropping half a million buckaroos in some cases. That's one business. Shanghai has over 16 million people, give or give a million or two. Individuals buy fireworks too. So if every single person bought just one firework or cracker...yeah, that's right folks. It's almost as good as the old question about whether the earth would move if everyone in China jumped at the exact same time. Crazy things happen when the most populated country acts in unison.
So we had heard tell of this fiery free for all. We figured it would be impressive, but we made no real plans for watching the show. We met our friend Daniel to go out for jiaozi, or dumplings, which is apparently very traditional for New Year's Eve. However, hardly any place was open. Most Chinese folks get a week off around the New Year, so the place is oddly like a ghost town with a majority of the shops and restaurants closed down. many people leave to visit family out of town and those who stay, stay inside.
After walking around for at least an hour with no luck, we were darn hungry. I was willing to get some McDonald's at this point. We finally found an open hot pot restaurant, and as luck would have it, they had the jiaozi too. Perfect. So we chowed down, sampled some Chinese alcohol that didn't taste like battery acid, and then moved on to the next order of business: bowling.
I hardly ever bowl in the States, but hell, how many people can say they've been to a bowling alley in China? A bowling alley in China on Chinese New Year's Eve, no less. Plus, they were showing the celebration program from Beijing on the TVs. This was much like the celebration in Yanzhou, although I must say the acrobatics were far more impressive. I had never seen one person sitting on another person's shoulders, while the first person is balancing on a springy pole held between two groups of people, and then just to show off, the two people on top of each other do a back flip, together, and somehow manage to land on the beam again. Several times in a row, too. Wha??? I was completely dumbfounded and amazed. I made a note to see a live acrobatic show live in the future.
Our own physical displays were not so glorious. We bowled a couple games and David and I never broke 100. Daniel turned out to be pretty good though, utilizing skills from a former daily after work bowling habit with his coworkers. Show off. We switched to the pool tables later, but I stink at pool even more than at bowling. It didn't matter for long though, because that's when we realized there was a heckuva lot of commotion going on outside. It was close to midnight at this point.
The bowling alley didn't have glass windows, so we couldn't see anything, but we could certainly hear. We asked the staff to open the black shutters and revealed a world gone mad, the noise exponentially more deafening now. We were on the third floor and from there we could see a small piece of Shanghai, ablaze every 100 feet from the crackers on the street up to the huge fireworks littering the sky in every direction. We could have seen more if not for the smoke that had now joined forces with the smog. Directly below our window we saw at least 20 people setting things off on the sidewalk, running to and fro, switching between smoking their cigarettes and using them as lighters. It's the kind of thing you can never imagine and once you do see it, you can never quite capture in words to convey the way it makes you feel, the way it makes your heart flutter and your lungs forget to fill with air; a rare experience of utter wonder. It was like a joyful apocalypse, a disorienting assault on all senses.
And of course, this does not do it justice, but it's a sample!
We watched for a long time, but the show barely slowed down. It was almost 1 am now and David could no longer hold back the urge to get in on the action. If you don't know David, he loves setting off fireworks. Loves it. I have never seen him grin so much. He was like a 5 year old caught in a rainstorm of chocolate bars. So we hurried downstairs. The big glass doors at the entryway were the only thing standing between us and the madness outside. Before I knew it, David was out the door, armed with my camera. I stayed behind with Daniel, who was not as impressed since he grew up in China around this "very noisy" tradition. I stood at the door, covering my ears and tried not to picture a wayward firebomb crashing into David's face. (I'm really good at worse case scenarios, in case you don't know me.)
David disappeared from view for a while, but eventually returned, beckoning us outside. In a brief ceasefire, we scurried past the lines of red firecrackers and I found myself wishing I had brought my umbrella with me. Then I saw what David had been up to. It seems a few guys were setting off small crackers that you actually hold onto when they go off. The whole shell blasts out of your hands into the air and explodes. And you guessed it, David had made friends with them. I think he earned some serious Chinese cred with these guys that night. They could see he was really pumped about the festivities and they thought it was great. I half expected them to say, "You very Chinese. We are brothers now!" as they clasped their hands on his shoulders in a show of camaraderie. I was offered the chance to hold my very own cracker to fire off, but I declined. I have very bad luck and I figured I was pushing it enough just standing outside. The blasts were lessening now, but still going at a steady pace.
The thrill died down a bit after over an hour of explosions, so we decided to head home. Daniel caught a cab, but David and I walked for a bit, away from the major launch pads onto some semi-quiet streets. The sidewalks were a sea of red paper shreds and empty cardboard shells, but the skies were still filled with sprays of sparks. They remained that way long into the early morning hours. When next we ventured outside, the streets had already been cleared by the few street sweeping folks who had to work on New Year's Eve, but the smell of gunpowder was still in the air. And as we found out later, that was just the first of three major nights of fireworks during the festival, but the other two could never compare to our very first New Year's Eve in China, in the land where fireworks were invented so many centuries ago.
Shrapnel...
Ok, so take that, multiply it by 5000, stir in some element of surprise, raise it to the power of echos created by a skyscraper forest and add a healthy dose of crazy men with lighters. That, my friends, was Shanghai on Chinese New Year's Eve.
Year of the Ox!Fireworks have been set off since the day I arrived in China. The folks in the neighborhood set them off for all sorts of reasons: weddings, festivals, boredom. It's mostly on the weekends and in the small alleys close to our apartment. They set off the loud strings of those suckers, which basically sounds like a pile of bombs lit in the street. But the Spring Festival, which starts with the New Year and goes for about 2 weeks, is the pull out all the stops, take leave of one's senses, fireworks hootenanny extravaganza! Seriously, businesses pay out big bucks for their displays, easily dropping half a million buckaroos in some cases. That's one business. Shanghai has over 16 million people, give or give a million or two. Individuals buy fireworks too. So if every single person bought just one firework or cracker...yeah, that's right folks. It's almost as good as the old question about whether the earth would move if everyone in China jumped at the exact same time. Crazy things happen when the most populated country acts in unison.
So we had heard tell of this fiery free for all. We figured it would be impressive, but we made no real plans for watching the show. We met our friend Daniel to go out for jiaozi, or dumplings, which is apparently very traditional for New Year's Eve. However, hardly any place was open. Most Chinese folks get a week off around the New Year, so the place is oddly like a ghost town with a majority of the shops and restaurants closed down. many people leave to visit family out of town and those who stay, stay inside.
After walking around for at least an hour with no luck, we were darn hungry. I was willing to get some McDonald's at this point. We finally found an open hot pot restaurant, and as luck would have it, they had the jiaozi too. Perfect. So we chowed down, sampled some Chinese alcohol that didn't taste like battery acid, and then moved on to the next order of business: bowling.
I hardly ever bowl in the States, but hell, how many people can say they've been to a bowling alley in China? A bowling alley in China on Chinese New Year's Eve, no less. Plus, they were showing the celebration program from Beijing on the TVs. This was much like the celebration in Yanzhou, although I must say the acrobatics were far more impressive. I had never seen one person sitting on another person's shoulders, while the first person is balancing on a springy pole held between two groups of people, and then just to show off, the two people on top of each other do a back flip, together, and somehow manage to land on the beam again. Several times in a row, too. Wha??? I was completely dumbfounded and amazed. I made a note to see a live acrobatic show live in the future.
Our own physical displays were not so glorious. We bowled a couple games and David and I never broke 100. Daniel turned out to be pretty good though, utilizing skills from a former daily after work bowling habit with his coworkers. Show off. We switched to the pool tables later, but I stink at pool even more than at bowling. It didn't matter for long though, because that's when we realized there was a heckuva lot of commotion going on outside. It was close to midnight at this point.
The bowling alley didn't have glass windows, so we couldn't see anything, but we could certainly hear. We asked the staff to open the black shutters and revealed a world gone mad, the noise exponentially more deafening now. We were on the third floor and from there we could see a small piece of Shanghai, ablaze every 100 feet from the crackers on the street up to the huge fireworks littering the sky in every direction. We could have seen more if not for the smoke that had now joined forces with the smog. Directly below our window we saw at least 20 people setting things off on the sidewalk, running to and fro, switching between smoking their cigarettes and using them as lighters. It's the kind of thing you can never imagine and once you do see it, you can never quite capture in words to convey the way it makes you feel, the way it makes your heart flutter and your lungs forget to fill with air; a rare experience of utter wonder. It was like a joyful apocalypse, a disorienting assault on all senses.
And of course, this does not do it justice, but it's a sample!
We watched for a long time, but the show barely slowed down. It was almost 1 am now and David could no longer hold back the urge to get in on the action. If you don't know David, he loves setting off fireworks. Loves it. I have never seen him grin so much. He was like a 5 year old caught in a rainstorm of chocolate bars. So we hurried downstairs. The big glass doors at the entryway were the only thing standing between us and the madness outside. Before I knew it, David was out the door, armed with my camera. I stayed behind with Daniel, who was not as impressed since he grew up in China around this "very noisy" tradition. I stood at the door, covering my ears and tried not to picture a wayward firebomb crashing into David's face. (I'm really good at worse case scenarios, in case you don't know me.)
David disappeared from view for a while, but eventually returned, beckoning us outside. In a brief ceasefire, we scurried past the lines of red firecrackers and I found myself wishing I had brought my umbrella with me. Then I saw what David had been up to. It seems a few guys were setting off small crackers that you actually hold onto when they go off. The whole shell blasts out of your hands into the air and explodes. And you guessed it, David had made friends with them. I think he earned some serious Chinese cred with these guys that night. They could see he was really pumped about the festivities and they thought it was great. I half expected them to say, "You very Chinese. We are brothers now!" as they clasped their hands on his shoulders in a show of camaraderie. I was offered the chance to hold my very own cracker to fire off, but I declined. I have very bad luck and I figured I was pushing it enough just standing outside. The blasts were lessening now, but still going at a steady pace.
The thrill died down a bit after over an hour of explosions, so we decided to head home. Daniel caught a cab, but David and I walked for a bit, away from the major launch pads onto some semi-quiet streets. The sidewalks were a sea of red paper shreds and empty cardboard shells, but the skies were still filled with sprays of sparks. They remained that way long into the early morning hours. When next we ventured outside, the streets had already been cleared by the few street sweeping folks who had to work on New Year's Eve, but the smell of gunpowder was still in the air. And as we found out later, that was just the first of three major nights of fireworks during the festival, but the other two could never compare to our very first New Year's Eve in China, in the land where fireworks were invented so many centuries ago.
Shrapnel...
Friday, January 30, 2009
When in Yanzhou
Just 3 days after making the trek back to Shanghai, I found myself on a train bound for Yanzhou. For the second time in as many days I was running like hell in public, with luggage, to catch my departure. I made it on the train, but found myself on car 13 when I needed to be on car 5. Insert heavy sigh here. Nothing quite like squeezing through several crowded cars, startling young children with my now flushed, but most definitely "white" face. Thrill seekers, take notes.
It seems silly that a 6 hour trip on the bullet train could seem long after a 16 hour flight across the ocean, but low and behold. The trip was easy and definitely less fuss than flying, but the real downside were the videos. Ah, the short loop of videos. Part train features information (look! bathrooms! and sick bags!), part ridiculous cartoons and a huge helping of Olympics videos. I was treated to super glossy, sometimes cheesy musical renditions where everyone is swelling with pride over the seemingly upcoming games. I've seen such stuff in America for sure, but the Chinese have it down to an art...er, well, maybe a science. I told David we should take bets as to when they will stop showing Olympics ads, as though they hadn't taken place yet. I say 2010. In April. If we're lucky.
After the fifth repeat of "Aren't the Olympics wonderful?!" I started contemplating the etymology of the word "torture" and its relationship to the word "brainwashing", but just then I arrived at my stop. A driver from the plant picked me up and we drove back to David's apartment. Later I met David and two of his coworkers for dinner in Jining. We had Korean food of all things and also got some bonus entertainment in the form of "bad/funny things happen when people who can't handle alcohol do the unthinkable and actually drink the stuff." Small town drama. Good stuff.
The next day, Wednesday, was the main event, the very reason I had made this journey. It was David's company's end of the year awards ceremony followed by their New Year's celebration. The celebration involved performances. The performances included David singing a cheesy song and acting out a funny skit, all in Chinese. Yeah, no way I was gonna miss this!
The ceremony was damn boring. There is nothing quite like listening to a thousand Chinese names being read off to make the brain want to curl up and die. A good study in Chinese tones though. I found myself trying to guess them. "3, 4, 2, 1, 4,or maybe 1?, 2, 3, 4, 4...blah, blah, blah." They had headsets for the foreigners so we could listen to a "translation." It just didn't work out too well. I got bits and pieces. Basically, it's like any company presentation/ceremony where everyone has to speak of good things and the value of hard work and achievements and...man, America and China aren't that different.
The second part was way more entertaining. Songs, skits, comedy routines, acrobatics, martial arts, dances, and traditional story telling. The neatest thing about it was that everyone works there. The acrobats work in the plant. Some of the dancing girls work in the company hotel. It wasn't all first class entertainment, but impressive nonetheless. A group of Italians from the other joint venture did a song in Italian. David and Scott sang Xiang Qin Xiang Ai De Yi Jia Ren (The Whole Family Love Each Other) with a big group and this, of course, required hand holding and swaying a la "We Are the World." I never thought I'd see THAT in a million years.
A few acts later David and 3 others did a sort of rhyming story called Three Words where each person has a line in each stanza, more or less. David was the 4th guy, who is supposed to be a dopey clown-like figure. I thought he was quite funny even though I had no idea what his lines meant. They gave him these specific moves to do with each line which only added to the effect. He thought he was the worst guy for that role because he's not comedic, but maybe that's why it was so funny, at least to me. The audience was genuinely excited when any foreigner attempted to speak in Chinese, but they seemed to be truly laughing at the content of his lines. They really loved it. So did I.
And now for your viewing pleasure...
A Star is Born
Afterwards there was a lunch with, of course, toasting-o-rama. I managed to get away with not drinking baijiu this time, just red wine. Yes! (I forget if I have talked about baijiu yet, but basically it's 50% alcohol, tastes and feels a lot like jet fuel and knocks out foreigners and locals alike.) Toasts happen all throughout the meal, but eventually people get up and wander around, doling out ambush toasts. And very often the toast is supposed to be bottoms up. People were drunk within half an hour. That's when the scene really picked up.
I was getting all sorts of attention because David's coworkers have all been uber curious to meet "the girlfriend". They know all about me. Word travels fast in that place. When I arrived, I met one guy who said, "You arrived at the train station at 4!" And he was right. It's a very weird experience. Take into account the curiosity, the alcohol consumption and the fact that in a sea of black suits I was the only one wearing pink, and I was in for it. All the foreigners present were obliged to pose for numerous pictures anyway. So we'd meet someone and then we'd take a picture (or 10) and then they'd get their friend and we'd all shift around and take another couple pictures.
I met David's fairly bizarre boss and he was WASTED. We'll call him Mr. Gone. I told David it looks like he gets in fights with junk yard dogs. He was significantly shorter than me and he kept shaking my hand, trying to focus his eyes on me while teetering to and fro. I was just afraid he would throw up on me. David's friend/co-worker Frank also paid his respects. I met Frank the last time I came to Yanzhou. He was beet red in the face, but much more composed than Mr. Gone. He said hi and then asked for a hug, which is something I never see Chinese people do, let alone request. David came over afterward and I told him about it. He said Frank already told him. He said, "Frank loves you. You just boosted my career by hugging him." A little later he added. "I might need to tell him to chill out though." Oh man, craziness!
At some point they were tossing us around for pictures so much I felt like the potato in hot potato. Add in the drunk Italians getting all chatty and getting on really well with all the drunk Chinese and it's just a wild mid-day "I love you man!" fest. Aside from the shenanigans, I did get to try a few non-scary food items, all fruit and vegetables, mind you. I couldn't bring myself to touch what looked like gray, bumpy animal innards, but I was all about the roasted sweet potato. I never thought of sweet potatoes as Chinese fare, but I'll take it!
The afternoon ended with a group photo and much staggering back to apartments to pass out. We were fine, but decided to head back to the apartment ourselves for some restorative tea and peanut butter cookies. That night, we went for hot pot with our friend Daniel in downtown Yanzhou. This place gives you your own little pot of boiling broth, so you can choose what to cook for yourself. Quite tasty. Plus, I managed to scare the pants off another two year old. Just another day in Nowheresville, China.
I am having a good time so far. Now that I'm back, I remember the things that I actually enjoy about this place and that is a nice realization. Even in an ugly, dirty place like Yanzhou there is life. At night the town and grounds of the plant were lit up with Christmas lights and huge red lantern displays for the holiday. It's a shame they can't leave them up all the time. It was beautiful.
Here are a few snapshots from the celebration:
And a picture of me, David, Daniel and Scott
It seems silly that a 6 hour trip on the bullet train could seem long after a 16 hour flight across the ocean, but low and behold. The trip was easy and definitely less fuss than flying, but the real downside were the videos. Ah, the short loop of videos. Part train features information (look! bathrooms! and sick bags!), part ridiculous cartoons and a huge helping of Olympics videos. I was treated to super glossy, sometimes cheesy musical renditions where everyone is swelling with pride over the seemingly upcoming games. I've seen such stuff in America for sure, but the Chinese have it down to an art...er, well, maybe a science. I told David we should take bets as to when they will stop showing Olympics ads, as though they hadn't taken place yet. I say 2010. In April. If we're lucky.
After the fifth repeat of "Aren't the Olympics wonderful?!" I started contemplating the etymology of the word "torture" and its relationship to the word "brainwashing", but just then I arrived at my stop. A driver from the plant picked me up and we drove back to David's apartment. Later I met David and two of his coworkers for dinner in Jining. We had Korean food of all things and also got some bonus entertainment in the form of "bad/funny things happen when people who can't handle alcohol do the unthinkable and actually drink the stuff." Small town drama. Good stuff.
The next day, Wednesday, was the main event, the very reason I had made this journey. It was David's company's end of the year awards ceremony followed by their New Year's celebration. The celebration involved performances. The performances included David singing a cheesy song and acting out a funny skit, all in Chinese. Yeah, no way I was gonna miss this!
The ceremony was damn boring. There is nothing quite like listening to a thousand Chinese names being read off to make the brain want to curl up and die. A good study in Chinese tones though. I found myself trying to guess them. "3, 4, 2, 1, 4,or maybe 1?, 2, 3, 4, 4...blah, blah, blah." They had headsets for the foreigners so we could listen to a "translation." It just didn't work out too well. I got bits and pieces. Basically, it's like any company presentation/ceremony where everyone has to speak of good things and the value of hard work and achievements and...man, America and China aren't that different.
The second part was way more entertaining. Songs, skits, comedy routines, acrobatics, martial arts, dances, and traditional story telling. The neatest thing about it was that everyone works there. The acrobats work in the plant. Some of the dancing girls work in the company hotel. It wasn't all first class entertainment, but impressive nonetheless. A group of Italians from the other joint venture did a song in Italian. David and Scott sang Xiang Qin Xiang Ai De Yi Jia Ren (The Whole Family Love Each Other) with a big group and this, of course, required hand holding and swaying a la "We Are the World." I never thought I'd see THAT in a million years.
A few acts later David and 3 others did a sort of rhyming story called Three Words where each person has a line in each stanza, more or less. David was the 4th guy, who is supposed to be a dopey clown-like figure. I thought he was quite funny even though I had no idea what his lines meant. They gave him these specific moves to do with each line which only added to the effect. He thought he was the worst guy for that role because he's not comedic, but maybe that's why it was so funny, at least to me. The audience was genuinely excited when any foreigner attempted to speak in Chinese, but they seemed to be truly laughing at the content of his lines. They really loved it. So did I.
And now for your viewing pleasure...
A Star is Born
Afterwards there was a lunch with, of course, toasting-o-rama. I managed to get away with not drinking baijiu this time, just red wine. Yes! (I forget if I have talked about baijiu yet, but basically it's 50% alcohol, tastes and feels a lot like jet fuel and knocks out foreigners and locals alike.) Toasts happen all throughout the meal, but eventually people get up and wander around, doling out ambush toasts. And very often the toast is supposed to be bottoms up. People were drunk within half an hour. That's when the scene really picked up.
I was getting all sorts of attention because David's coworkers have all been uber curious to meet "the girlfriend". They know all about me. Word travels fast in that place. When I arrived, I met one guy who said, "You arrived at the train station at 4!" And he was right. It's a very weird experience. Take into account the curiosity, the alcohol consumption and the fact that in a sea of black suits I was the only one wearing pink, and I was in for it. All the foreigners present were obliged to pose for numerous pictures anyway. So we'd meet someone and then we'd take a picture (or 10) and then they'd get their friend and we'd all shift around and take another couple pictures.
I met David's fairly bizarre boss and he was WASTED. We'll call him Mr. Gone. I told David it looks like he gets in fights with junk yard dogs. He was significantly shorter than me and he kept shaking my hand, trying to focus his eyes on me while teetering to and fro. I was just afraid he would throw up on me. David's friend/co-worker Frank also paid his respects. I met Frank the last time I came to Yanzhou. He was beet red in the face, but much more composed than Mr. Gone. He said hi and then asked for a hug, which is something I never see Chinese people do, let alone request. David came over afterward and I told him about it. He said Frank already told him. He said, "Frank loves you. You just boosted my career by hugging him." A little later he added. "I might need to tell him to chill out though." Oh man, craziness!
At some point they were tossing us around for pictures so much I felt like the potato in hot potato. Add in the drunk Italians getting all chatty and getting on really well with all the drunk Chinese and it's just a wild mid-day "I love you man!" fest. Aside from the shenanigans, I did get to try a few non-scary food items, all fruit and vegetables, mind you. I couldn't bring myself to touch what looked like gray, bumpy animal innards, but I was all about the roasted sweet potato. I never thought of sweet potatoes as Chinese fare, but I'll take it!
The afternoon ended with a group photo and much staggering back to apartments to pass out. We were fine, but decided to head back to the apartment ourselves for some restorative tea and peanut butter cookies. That night, we went for hot pot with our friend Daniel in downtown Yanzhou. This place gives you your own little pot of boiling broth, so you can choose what to cook for yourself. Quite tasty. Plus, I managed to scare the pants off another two year old. Just another day in Nowheresville, China.
I am having a good time so far. Now that I'm back, I remember the things that I actually enjoy about this place and that is a nice realization. Even in an ugly, dirty place like Yanzhou there is life. At night the town and grounds of the plant were lit up with Christmas lights and huge red lantern displays for the holiday. It's a shame they can't leave them up all the time. It was beautiful.
Here are a few snapshots from the celebration:
And a picture of me, David, Daniel and Scott
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Thailand!
Did you know I have a barnacle beacon? Well, neither did I, until we went to Thailand. Yes, it was a case of Sarah swims in the ocean, Sarah sees cool fish, Sarah accidentally swallows some salt water, and just as the fun is starting, Sarah kicks a barnacle encrusted boulder with her bare foot.
Let's back up a little.
As I mentioned, we decided to take a week's vacation and travel to Thailand. As luck would have it, our original plan to go Thanksgiving week fell through because of David's work, so we went the week before all the protests went down in Bangkok. Whew. The stars really aligned on that one. So, after a 5 hour flight we were in the capital. We stayed the night there and left for Koh Samui in the morning. This is one of 3 islands in the Gulf of Thailand and the only one with an airport. Koh Samui is much more developed than the other two, and we were on a mission to take it easy and get away from all the hubbub, so we immediately boarded a boat bound for Koh Tao, the most northern of the islands and the smallest. And the farthest away, I might add, as I didn't thoroughly enjoy the long, choppy boat ride out there. I was having flashbacks of the diving boat incident in West Palm Beach last February, which was not pretty, believe me.
We arrived and were immediately solicited by every taxi driver on the island. We got away from the crowd and found our own taxi, which was a pick up truck with benches in the truck bed. Brilliant. Even though I kept a white knuckle grip on the bars the whole time, I enjoyed the unique view of the island as we made our way to our resort.
The town
It looked so prehistoric, like a dinosaur was about to waltz across the street.
Thailand is very affordable. We could have found a bungalow for 10 bucks a night. I would have been game. However, the cheap prices also mean that the really nice places, while expensive for Thailand, are quite a steal in comparison to most resorts found on tropical islands. I figured we should take advantage of this opportunity for at least a couple nights, so I booked our first two nights at a place called Thipwimarn. I was smitten the first time I looked it up and it didn't disappoint in person. Lovely little cottages on the side of a hill in the jungle, overlooking the sea. Relaxation personified. It turned out to be so nice, we stayed there the whole week. There were definitely other places that would have been fine, it was just easier to stay there. Plus, we were getting a fine work out going up and down all those stairs all the time...
View from our own little porch
Stairs!
So back to the barnacles. I have never snorkeled before. Gimme a break, I grew up in Ohio and I'm not the best swimmer. So we borrowed masks and those snorkel tube thingies from the resort and went down to the little bay directly below our room. We had the place to ourselves. So David gave me the basics and we went out. Koh Tao is quite popular for snorkeling and diving. Actually, the island is the number two place in the world to get certified to dive. There were tons of dive centers and tons of young people there to get certified. Myself, I have trouble with my ears, and I mentioned my poor swimming skills, so diving really doesn't appeal to me. Snorkeling is more my speed: float lazily on the surface and look at pretty things.
And what pretty things. It was so cool to swim in this clear, turquoise water and hang out with these brilliant fish. Yellow and bright blue, purple, orange. Real, live coral on the bottom with some urchins and wild colored animals that look like plants and suck themselves in when you try to touch them. Fantastic. I also enjoyed watching the little crabs above the water line on the rocks scurry in there little sideway manner away from David as he approached them. Actually, this is probably what I was preoccupied with when I sliced my foot open. Fantastic. Fantastic pain!
My first thought was, If I see my own bone I'll pass out. After I actually looked at the damage, I thought How does one tell if one needs stitches? David came over, looked at it, and proclaimed that it didn't look too deep and I guess that was enough for me. I continued to swim around, wincing as the salt water swished through my cut. I cursed all the barnacles I passed, staying far away from all rocks.
Swimming turned out to be easier, because walking hurt quite a bit, especially on the sandy beach. The stairs were now a double challenge. But luckily for me, David had rented a motor scooter, so we were able to explore the island fairly easily while sparing my poor foot. I had to get over my irrational fear that two wheeled vehicles cannot possibly stay upright, but after that it was quite fun. Half the roads are dirt and thus a bit wild to drive on. (Evil Knievel, eat your heart out!) We spent a good deal of time just riding to different parts of the island, eating some really tasty food, getting strawberry smoothies whenever possible (this might have just been me...), and taking in the nice views of the beaches, jungle and ocean.
We got some fins at another resort and went snorkeling again. This was uneventful on the boulder bit, thankfully. A pleasant evening swim. The next day we traversed to the southern end of the island and spent a good deal of time trying to get to Freedom Beach, because it had the most potential for calm waters that day. Beautiful, secluded beach, with hardly any other people. More beautiful sights. David tried to teach me to dive to the bottom. It didn't go so well. Swallowed a bit too much water and then dog paddled too hard and wore myself out. And as we made our way back to shore, I kicked a rock. I couldn't believe it! I think I hit pure rock this time, so not so much slice and dice as just scrapes to my foot and my pride. I ordered a strawberry smoothie the first chance I got to make myself feel better.
Freedom Beach
We were pretty chill this trip, so not too much action to report. We did hang out at a beach bar one night and got to see some cool fire dancers. There's quite a hippie vibe here, perhaps because of the large number of backpackers here. I enjoyed it. Much different than the city vibe I've been surrounded with for months.
That's hot. ;)
Our last day, we took in some more sights, but mostly chilled on a beach for the afternoon. (Lemon shake this time!) David had burned his back earlier in the week, so he did not want to risk getting in the water. After a while I decided I needed to take advantage of my last chance to snorkel in this really lovely water, so I went in by myself. David watched from the shore. As I tried to make my way through the jostling waves, I promptly stepped on a rock...covered in...BARNACLES! More like I stepped on, slipped on, and then again, stepped on a rock covered in barnacles. Absolutely ridiculous. It was a small rock in really shallow water just feet from the strip of sandy beach, so I wasn't thinking rocks. I couldn't see it anyway since the water is cloudy at the shore.
I had a Why me?? moment, but then I went out anyway and I'm glad I did. Fairly shallow water meant that I could try diving amongst the parrot fish and such, this time successfully. Pretty awesome. Too bad I didn't have an underwater camera.When I came out, I discovered that I had at least six cuts on my foot, with one on the bottom running the length of my arch. Pathetic. I must have bad karma or something.
We weren't the only ones taking it easy...
Despite using an obscene number of band aids, I did enjoy the trip. We couldn't have asked for a more relaxing place. I know David needed it and I think it did him a lot of good. We both agreed that we would come back to Thailand if given the chance. Friendly people, beautiful place, good food. Get rid of those crusty devils of the sea, and I would be tempted to call it heaven.
For more photos, click here.
Let's back up a little.
As I mentioned, we decided to take a week's vacation and travel to Thailand. As luck would have it, our original plan to go Thanksgiving week fell through because of David's work, so we went the week before all the protests went down in Bangkok. Whew. The stars really aligned on that one. So, after a 5 hour flight we were in the capital. We stayed the night there and left for Koh Samui in the morning. This is one of 3 islands in the Gulf of Thailand and the only one with an airport. Koh Samui is much more developed than the other two, and we were on a mission to take it easy and get away from all the hubbub, so we immediately boarded a boat bound for Koh Tao, the most northern of the islands and the smallest. And the farthest away, I might add, as I didn't thoroughly enjoy the long, choppy boat ride out there. I was having flashbacks of the diving boat incident in West Palm Beach last February, which was not pretty, believe me.
We arrived and were immediately solicited by every taxi driver on the island. We got away from the crowd and found our own taxi, which was a pick up truck with benches in the truck bed. Brilliant. Even though I kept a white knuckle grip on the bars the whole time, I enjoyed the unique view of the island as we made our way to our resort.
The town
It looked so prehistoric, like a dinosaur was about to waltz across the street.
Thailand is very affordable. We could have found a bungalow for 10 bucks a night. I would have been game. However, the cheap prices also mean that the really nice places, while expensive for Thailand, are quite a steal in comparison to most resorts found on tropical islands. I figured we should take advantage of this opportunity for at least a couple nights, so I booked our first two nights at a place called Thipwimarn. I was smitten the first time I looked it up and it didn't disappoint in person. Lovely little cottages on the side of a hill in the jungle, overlooking the sea. Relaxation personified. It turned out to be so nice, we stayed there the whole week. There were definitely other places that would have been fine, it was just easier to stay there. Plus, we were getting a fine work out going up and down all those stairs all the time...
View from our own little porch
Stairs!
So back to the barnacles. I have never snorkeled before. Gimme a break, I grew up in Ohio and I'm not the best swimmer. So we borrowed masks and those snorkel tube thingies from the resort and went down to the little bay directly below our room. We had the place to ourselves. So David gave me the basics and we went out. Koh Tao is quite popular for snorkeling and diving. Actually, the island is the number two place in the world to get certified to dive. There were tons of dive centers and tons of young people there to get certified. Myself, I have trouble with my ears, and I mentioned my poor swimming skills, so diving really doesn't appeal to me. Snorkeling is more my speed: float lazily on the surface and look at pretty things.
And what pretty things. It was so cool to swim in this clear, turquoise water and hang out with these brilliant fish. Yellow and bright blue, purple, orange. Real, live coral on the bottom with some urchins and wild colored animals that look like plants and suck themselves in when you try to touch them. Fantastic. I also enjoyed watching the little crabs above the water line on the rocks scurry in there little sideway manner away from David as he approached them. Actually, this is probably what I was preoccupied with when I sliced my foot open. Fantastic. Fantastic pain!
My first thought was, If I see my own bone I'll pass out. After I actually looked at the damage, I thought How does one tell if one needs stitches? David came over, looked at it, and proclaimed that it didn't look too deep and I guess that was enough for me. I continued to swim around, wincing as the salt water swished through my cut. I cursed all the barnacles I passed, staying far away from all rocks.
Swimming turned out to be easier, because walking hurt quite a bit, especially on the sandy beach. The stairs were now a double challenge. But luckily for me, David had rented a motor scooter, so we were able to explore the island fairly easily while sparing my poor foot. I had to get over my irrational fear that two wheeled vehicles cannot possibly stay upright, but after that it was quite fun. Half the roads are dirt and thus a bit wild to drive on. (Evil Knievel, eat your heart out!) We spent a good deal of time just riding to different parts of the island, eating some really tasty food, getting strawberry smoothies whenever possible (this might have just been me...), and taking in the nice views of the beaches, jungle and ocean.
We got some fins at another resort and went snorkeling again. This was uneventful on the boulder bit, thankfully. A pleasant evening swim. The next day we traversed to the southern end of the island and spent a good deal of time trying to get to Freedom Beach, because it had the most potential for calm waters that day. Beautiful, secluded beach, with hardly any other people. More beautiful sights. David tried to teach me to dive to the bottom. It didn't go so well. Swallowed a bit too much water and then dog paddled too hard and wore myself out. And as we made our way back to shore, I kicked a rock. I couldn't believe it! I think I hit pure rock this time, so not so much slice and dice as just scrapes to my foot and my pride. I ordered a strawberry smoothie the first chance I got to make myself feel better.
Freedom Beach
We were pretty chill this trip, so not too much action to report. We did hang out at a beach bar one night and got to see some cool fire dancers. There's quite a hippie vibe here, perhaps because of the large number of backpackers here. I enjoyed it. Much different than the city vibe I've been surrounded with for months.
That's hot. ;)
Our last day, we took in some more sights, but mostly chilled on a beach for the afternoon. (Lemon shake this time!) David had burned his back earlier in the week, so he did not want to risk getting in the water. After a while I decided I needed to take advantage of my last chance to snorkel in this really lovely water, so I went in by myself. David watched from the shore. As I tried to make my way through the jostling waves, I promptly stepped on a rock...covered in...BARNACLES! More like I stepped on, slipped on, and then again, stepped on a rock covered in barnacles. Absolutely ridiculous. It was a small rock in really shallow water just feet from the strip of sandy beach, so I wasn't thinking rocks. I couldn't see it anyway since the water is cloudy at the shore.
I had a Why me?? moment, but then I went out anyway and I'm glad I did. Fairly shallow water meant that I could try diving amongst the parrot fish and such, this time successfully. Pretty awesome. Too bad I didn't have an underwater camera.When I came out, I discovered that I had at least six cuts on my foot, with one on the bottom running the length of my arch. Pathetic. I must have bad karma or something.
We weren't the only ones taking it easy...
Despite using an obscene number of band aids, I did enjoy the trip. We couldn't have asked for a more relaxing place. I know David needed it and I think it did him a lot of good. We both agreed that we would come back to Thailand if given the chance. Friendly people, beautiful place, good food. Get rid of those crusty devils of the sea, and I would be tempted to call it heaven.
For more photos, click here.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The Bag! Watch! Purse! Club
If you have ever lived in China or even visited, or heck, even been to a China town in America, you may well be acquainted with the experience of being viewed as a walking money tree. You hear English, but it is minimalistic, chucked at you in globs. "Bags!", "Watches!", "Hello!", "Hey Lady!" (my favorite), "Ok!", "Shoes!", and "Purses!" Sometimes you get more elaborate descriptions, like "Good price!" or "Come look!" or "Gucci!" They flash a laminated, folded sheet with pictures of goods, splaying it out for you to see and then quickly collapsing it back into their pocket, lest they be caught by the authorities, and then expect you to follow them to the secret shop. I am really, really good at saying "No" now. If I could figure out how to say, "Actually, I don't really care for purses much, thank you, " in Chinese, I might pull that on them. I figure it would stun them long enough to make my quick get-away.
Our friend, Gregg, is pretty much a genius because he came up with the most hysterical way to turn the tables on these guys. He decided it would be great if he could get a hold of one of the cards with all the pictures on it, so that when he goes to the high traffic areas, he can beat the sellers at their own game. As soon as you see a dude approaching you, you whip out the card. "Bags Watch Purse?!" The poor suckers wouldn't even know what hit em.
While I was walking along one of these shopping streets, waving my hand "No" at least two dozen times, I thought about Gregg's idea. It really was perfect. I found myself wishing I had one of those cards. Every non-materialistic, non-shopping crazy schmuck should have one of those cards, cause I know I'm not the only one who doesn't want that stuff. In fact, I will never want that stuff. I thought about getting a shirt made that says, in characters, "I'm Poor." But the card thing is both effective and potentially funny.
One night David and I met Kellie and Gregg on a corner to go to dinner. Gregg held out his hand and revealed one of the product cards. He smiled.
"You got one?" I asked, excited.
"Yup. Bought it for 5 kuai." We all laughed. This was excellent progress. He actually got one!
So after dinner, David and Gregg walked ahead of Kellie and I on the sidewalk. We were having our own conversations. Then Kellie and I realized that we were passing small groups of people who were laughing with a very surprised look on their faces. Then we noticed they were looking ahead of us, sometimes pointing. Gregg was whipping out the card any chance he got, leaving in his wake numbers of very shocked product pushers. It was comic gold. We quickly decided that very night that we needed to add to our army. We needed to get all the expats on board (or at least the 4 of us), each procure our own card and go out en mass. I decided we would have to video the action. Perhaps we would put it on YouTube. The possibilities are endless.
So this past Saturday, David and I went to Yuyuan Bizarre to attempt to do some shopping. The funny thing was, David needed to buy a couple fake watches for a friend back in the States. So before I knew it, we were actually following the bagwatchpurse guy. He took us to a side street and then a small little walkway amongst some old residences, still occupied. Then, Voila!, a secret room full of knockoffs. I couldn't believe we were actually doing this. It was interesting, but my patience with the ordeal was limited, as it is very, very hard sell in there. The price started at 1200 yuan for one watch and a half hour later, after thoroughly frustrating the salespeople, we got two watches for 700 yuan. I actually think we could've gone lower, but it came out to about $58 per watch, one being a "Rolex," so I think we did OK.
So even though we already bought some, Mr. Bagwatchpurse wants to take us to ANOTHER store. We follow just to see, but we're done. He then tries to drag us to "the best" store, but we managed to tell him we really were finished. He finally left us alone. But later, we ran into the same guy. I gotta hand it to Mr. B. He sure is a go getter, cause he tried to get us to look at some more stuff. Again. This is when David seized the opportunity.
"I wanna buy THAT," he said, pointing to Mr. B's card. The guy figured it out quickly.
"50 kuai." Damn. This guy is on the ball. And so, the bargaining begins.
"My friend bought one for 5 kuai!" David says.
"You kidding me! 40 kuai!"
"Too much! It's just a card! 5 kuai! My friend bought one for 5 kuai!"
By this time there are two other card toters gathered around and now they are trying to get us to buy their cards! I kept trying to walk away. This was getting ridiculous.
"30 kuai!"
"5 kuai!"
"You must be joking! 20 kuai!"
"Buy this one! 10 kuai!"
"Too much! I'll buy yours! 5 kuai!" More laughter. Things are whipped up into a frenzy at this point. These guys couldn't be more thrilled that some goofball tourists are offering them money for their cards.
"10 kuai!"
"Ok, ok. 10 kuai, " David agrees. "Still too much." There's a pause. "Pinky? (my nickname), do you have 5 kuai on you?"
"I am not giving you 5 kuai for that thing." I start to walk away.
"Can I borrow 5 kuai? I only have 5 kuai!"
I turn. I look at David amongst this crowd of Chinese folks. They are still haggling him. I relent. I hand the original Mr. B 10 kuai, take the 5 kuai from David and then drag him away. The other sellers still want us to buy their cards. Complete madness!
But at least now there are two members of the BWP Club. As for my future role in these dealings, I am going to self appoint myself as head camera girl. It's a war zone out there. I'd rather not be in the front lines.
We're taking back the streets...
Our friend, Gregg, is pretty much a genius because he came up with the most hysterical way to turn the tables on these guys. He decided it would be great if he could get a hold of one of the cards with all the pictures on it, so that when he goes to the high traffic areas, he can beat the sellers at their own game. As soon as you see a dude approaching you, you whip out the card. "Bags Watch Purse?!" The poor suckers wouldn't even know what hit em.
While I was walking along one of these shopping streets, waving my hand "No" at least two dozen times, I thought about Gregg's idea. It really was perfect. I found myself wishing I had one of those cards. Every non-materialistic, non-shopping crazy schmuck should have one of those cards, cause I know I'm not the only one who doesn't want that stuff. In fact, I will never want that stuff. I thought about getting a shirt made that says, in characters, "I'm Poor." But the card thing is both effective and potentially funny.
One night David and I met Kellie and Gregg on a corner to go to dinner. Gregg held out his hand and revealed one of the product cards. He smiled.
"You got one?" I asked, excited.
"Yup. Bought it for 5 kuai." We all laughed. This was excellent progress. He actually got one!
So after dinner, David and Gregg walked ahead of Kellie and I on the sidewalk. We were having our own conversations. Then Kellie and I realized that we were passing small groups of people who were laughing with a very surprised look on their faces. Then we noticed they were looking ahead of us, sometimes pointing. Gregg was whipping out the card any chance he got, leaving in his wake numbers of very shocked product pushers. It was comic gold. We quickly decided that very night that we needed to add to our army. We needed to get all the expats on board (or at least the 4 of us), each procure our own card and go out en mass. I decided we would have to video the action. Perhaps we would put it on YouTube. The possibilities are endless.
So this past Saturday, David and I went to Yuyuan Bizarre to attempt to do some shopping. The funny thing was, David needed to buy a couple fake watches for a friend back in the States. So before I knew it, we were actually following the bagwatchpurse guy. He took us to a side street and then a small little walkway amongst some old residences, still occupied. Then, Voila!, a secret room full of knockoffs. I couldn't believe we were actually doing this. It was interesting, but my patience with the ordeal was limited, as it is very, very hard sell in there. The price started at 1200 yuan for one watch and a half hour later, after thoroughly frustrating the salespeople, we got two watches for 700 yuan. I actually think we could've gone lower, but it came out to about $58 per watch, one being a "Rolex," so I think we did OK.
So even though we already bought some, Mr. Bagwatchpurse wants to take us to ANOTHER store. We follow just to see, but we're done. He then tries to drag us to "the best" store, but we managed to tell him we really were finished. He finally left us alone. But later, we ran into the same guy. I gotta hand it to Mr. B. He sure is a go getter, cause he tried to get us to look at some more stuff. Again. This is when David seized the opportunity.
"I wanna buy THAT," he said, pointing to Mr. B's card. The guy figured it out quickly.
"50 kuai." Damn. This guy is on the ball. And so, the bargaining begins.
"My friend bought one for 5 kuai!" David says.
"You kidding me! 40 kuai!"
"Too much! It's just a card! 5 kuai! My friend bought one for 5 kuai!"
By this time there are two other card toters gathered around and now they are trying to get us to buy their cards! I kept trying to walk away. This was getting ridiculous.
"30 kuai!"
"5 kuai!"
"You must be joking! 20 kuai!"
"Buy this one! 10 kuai!"
"Too much! I'll buy yours! 5 kuai!" More laughter. Things are whipped up into a frenzy at this point. These guys couldn't be more thrilled that some goofball tourists are offering them money for their cards.
"10 kuai!"
"Ok, ok. 10 kuai, " David agrees. "Still too much." There's a pause. "Pinky? (my nickname), do you have 5 kuai on you?"
"I am not giving you 5 kuai for that thing." I start to walk away.
"Can I borrow 5 kuai? I only have 5 kuai!"
I turn. I look at David amongst this crowd of Chinese folks. They are still haggling him. I relent. I hand the original Mr. B 10 kuai, take the 5 kuai from David and then drag him away. The other sellers still want us to buy their cards. Complete madness!
But at least now there are two members of the BWP Club. As for my future role in these dealings, I am going to self appoint myself as head camera girl. It's a war zone out there. I'd rather not be in the front lines.
We're taking back the streets...
Monday, December 1, 2008
Pass It On
I ate dinner out tonight. Sometimes I just have to get myself out of the house even if I don't have someone to meet for dinner. So I went to Blue Frog, which is a very American-style restaurant. It's comfort food and it's close to our apartment. I took my notebook with me to make lists while I waited for my food, because no one likes to be alone at a restaurant AND be idle. One has to have a magazine or a laptop. I write. I'm sure I still look peculiar, but I don't mind.
I did look up from time to time to look out the window. Sitting on the second floor, I had a clear view of the street. I noticed a couple of men standing on the other side, not really doing anything. The thought crossed my mind that they may have been contemplating stealing one of the bikes in front of them, but they did not do this. They simply sat down on the sidewalk. I went back to making notes on all the things I want to eat when I go home. (This list makes me laugh, especially since it has WENDY'S on it!)
Throughout dinner, I gazed out the window a few more times. One of the men had gone, but the other was still there, milling about. He had a knit cap on and a red plastic bag in one hand. I couldn't help but wonder if that bag held all his worldly possessions. In the other hand, he held a small, white cup. I figured he was asking for spare change, although he didn't seem to be aggressively seeking out targets. He mostly squatted against the wall. I watched him approach a few people, but it was a meager attempt.
Something struck me about this scene. Now, since moving to a big city, in China no less, I am no stranger to people begging. Going to touristy areas is to agree to an absolute siege. "Hello! Money!" Then they shove a baby in your face. Not a good scene. But being able to observe this one man, far removed and for a decent period of time, I felt for him. I started wondering if I had some change on me. I normally do not do this, as sometimes you get yourself into more muck if you actually give to the clinking cup. But my gut said the guy needed it.
I watched him help a girl maybe my age or a little younger with her bike as she tried to lock it up. He held it upright for her as she fed the lock through the wheel and I was glad to see she smiled and said thank you. Then she made the universal sign for 'no money' by reaching in her pockets and shrugging, mouthing the words "sorry". I can't judge. I have done this. (Back in Columbus, it was usually actually true, as I used my debit card for most things and rarely carried cash. Perhaps a convenient circumstance for my conscience?) She then walked away with her friends to no doubt get some dinner. That decided it. I had watched him do a good deed.
I contemplated a 5, but then decided on a 10 RMB note, which is about $1.50 U.S. I knew he could get a good meal for this, two if he went to a simple noddle shop. I figured I shouldn't be stingy if I was to make the effort. I just couldn't stand the thought of that guy staring at all the rich people in the restaurants, paying for overpriced food, and then not getting dinner himself.
So I packed up and left the restaurant. My heart sank a little, as I couldn't see the man at first, but then I noticed he was sitting nestled behind the line of bikes across the street. With the bill in my gloved hand, I crossed the street. He definitely noticed and for a split second I think he thought about showing me his cup, but I was too fast. I put the bill into his hand and looked him in the eyes. I said the smallest little "Merry Christmas" for lack of anything else to say. The handshake quickly became a warm, four-handed embrace, the 10 kuai in the middle. He said "Xie xie!" which is Mandarin for "thank you."
His genuinely grateful eyes almost broke my heart, so with a quick final squeeze I turned and walked away, choking on the moment. I didn't look back. The cold night air felt good on my face as I walked home. I found myself wondering what his name might have been.
I did look up from time to time to look out the window. Sitting on the second floor, I had a clear view of the street. I noticed a couple of men standing on the other side, not really doing anything. The thought crossed my mind that they may have been contemplating stealing one of the bikes in front of them, but they did not do this. They simply sat down on the sidewalk. I went back to making notes on all the things I want to eat when I go home. (This list makes me laugh, especially since it has WENDY'S on it!)
Throughout dinner, I gazed out the window a few more times. One of the men had gone, but the other was still there, milling about. He had a knit cap on and a red plastic bag in one hand. I couldn't help but wonder if that bag held all his worldly possessions. In the other hand, he held a small, white cup. I figured he was asking for spare change, although he didn't seem to be aggressively seeking out targets. He mostly squatted against the wall. I watched him approach a few people, but it was a meager attempt.
Something struck me about this scene. Now, since moving to a big city, in China no less, I am no stranger to people begging. Going to touristy areas is to agree to an absolute siege. "Hello! Money!" Then they shove a baby in your face. Not a good scene. But being able to observe this one man, far removed and for a decent period of time, I felt for him. I started wondering if I had some change on me. I normally do not do this, as sometimes you get yourself into more muck if you actually give to the clinking cup. But my gut said the guy needed it.
I watched him help a girl maybe my age or a little younger with her bike as she tried to lock it up. He held it upright for her as she fed the lock through the wheel and I was glad to see she smiled and said thank you. Then she made the universal sign for 'no money' by reaching in her pockets and shrugging, mouthing the words "sorry". I can't judge. I have done this. (Back in Columbus, it was usually actually true, as I used my debit card for most things and rarely carried cash. Perhaps a convenient circumstance for my conscience?) She then walked away with her friends to no doubt get some dinner. That decided it. I had watched him do a good deed.
I contemplated a 5, but then decided on a 10 RMB note, which is about $1.50 U.S. I knew he could get a good meal for this, two if he went to a simple noddle shop. I figured I shouldn't be stingy if I was to make the effort. I just couldn't stand the thought of that guy staring at all the rich people in the restaurants, paying for overpriced food, and then not getting dinner himself.
So I packed up and left the restaurant. My heart sank a little, as I couldn't see the man at first, but then I noticed he was sitting nestled behind the line of bikes across the street. With the bill in my gloved hand, I crossed the street. He definitely noticed and for a split second I think he thought about showing me his cup, but I was too fast. I put the bill into his hand and looked him in the eyes. I said the smallest little "Merry Christmas" for lack of anything else to say. The handshake quickly became a warm, four-handed embrace, the 10 kuai in the middle. He said "Xie xie!" which is Mandarin for "thank you."
His genuinely grateful eyes almost broke my heart, so with a quick final squeeze I turned and walked away, choking on the moment. I didn't look back. The cold night air felt good on my face as I walked home. I found myself wondering what his name might have been.
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