Sunday April 17th, 2011

Dear readers, it is with a heavy heart that I announce end of the normal journal sequence of the spring of 2011. Why normal, you ask? Because I still have a few journals that I hope to write that will summarize my experiences in Beijing and my analysis of ACC in general. Stay tuned, and I hope to post more pictures of the trip when I get back home, along with several recordings that I made during the trip and the video of Morgan’s trip to Beijing. I am also planning on making a book of the pictures that you can see when I get back.

Today was a rather boring day, I am afraid. I woke up late, journaled, talked to Morgan on sykpe, worked out at Bally, and studied into the night. This week will be a flurry of test preparations and presentations, and I am already ready for it to be over. For these reasons, I have decided to suspend writing journals until the semester is over.

For those of you who are interested, I am going to stay at my host family’s house right after graduating, so that I may get the 1,000-Yuan deposit back from the hotel and still have time to buy souvenirs and use the 1,000-Yuan for its original purpose of buying gifts, instead of having to convert it back to US dollars.

To anyone and everyone who has read this while I have been in Beijing this semester, thank you. I have written 91 separate entries, and I hope that these journals have been entertaining and enlightening for you. If the journals were half as enlightening as this semester has been, there would be a wealth of information to fill volumes. I am afraid that there is not quite that much information here!

There is no doubt that China is currently in a state of great change. Whether or not this period of time will be crucial for future development, and whether or not what I have seen here accurately depicts the future of China, only time will tell. I do know that it is exciting to be here in the capitol of China, as have so many other more intelligent scientists, economists, and politicians, and to see the changes in the People’s Republic.

I’ll write soon (and see you sooner)!

Love,

Jamey

PS – I will be writing journals of our trip to Israel in mid-May, along with pictures and some digital content. Please give me any feedback on this journal, and suggestions for further writing. I am open to suggestions and exploration…

Saturday April 16th, 2011

Today, I rolled out of bed in mid-morning and lazed about in the room emailing and skyping.

After getting some lunch, I went over to Bally. I ran long (an hour and a half), and then rode my bike around the neighborhood. While riding around, I found a huge residential area that I had previously overlooked. A single alley ran north-south through a large block across from the school, and this alley served as a market for everything from fresh fruit and vegetables, pork, fresh fish, clothing, noodles, to mom and pop stores. For the people that live in the high rises nearby, this alley served as an alternative thoroughfare to the large and unwieldy streets that circumnavigate the block, and it seems to be the preferred corridor for getting to and leaving from housing.

An idea struck me at the time: the idea of the hutong, or rather what the hutong represented to the people of Beijing – the opportunity to live in close proximity to neighbors, enjoying the convenience of being to shop just outside your front door, and receiving your “earth spirit” from being on the ground – is being recreated in modern residential areas. I wonder if these areas will be demolished in the future as the government advocates for “better” market alternatives like shopping malls, grocery stores and larger, specialized stores. Only time will tell in this respect.

Today, I received an email from my thesis advisor, Dr Michael Harvey, suggesting that I read an article from a quarterly journal that specializes in East Asian news, the Seri Quarterly. (I recently read a chapter Gladwell’sWhat the Dog Saw about plagiarism, and I want to be sure that I do not commit said offense). I read one of the first articles on the page about the shift in the CCP’s political scheme with the enactment of the 10^th Five-Year Plan. The plan, as mentioned by the article, proposes that Beijing will be focusing more on human development, artificially high consumer prices (that are not being met by rising wages), real estate rights, environmental fighting corruption, and general “human rights,” among other initiatives. I say “human rights” because I believe that the fundamental definition of human rights by Chinese and western standards is vastly different. Anything less than a full transition to democracy, I am afraid, will not suffice to satisfy the hard-line human rightists in the States.

If the CCP actually comes through with they say in this 10^th Five-Year Plan, it could mean big changes for the Chinese government and more cooperation with Western nations. It would seem likely that Washington and other government would be more willing to cooperate with a more “liberal” Chinese government. In this respect, I am speculating and have not read enough information to determine what will happen with this most recent Five-Year Plan. This is more of a starting point for further research into the evolution of politics and life in China.

At 6:15 I left from the dorm on my trusty bike. I had a 30-minute ride to Beijing University, arguably the best university in China. The opera to which my host family had invited me was going to be held in an auditorium on campus. I locked the bike near the east gate of campus and asked around until I was walking in the right direction.

I have just been struck with the dissimilarity of Chinese universities and their American counterparts. Dear reader, allow me to elaborate. For one, Chinese universities are compact. The buildings stretch upwards due to the limited space, and every inch of the limited university green space is groomed and landscaped meticulously. Secondly, every university that I have seen is surrounded by a fence, and each gate guarded by what appear to be only the most competent of guards. Where university begins and the real world begins is marked distinctly, with no room for doubt. Whereas at Ole Miss, Auburn, and Alabama (to name a few), it is difficult to tell where the university begins and ends. For this reason, universities are not subject to traffic, nor do they blend in very well with the surrounding neighborhoods. Thirdly, most Chinese universities are rather young. For example, MinZu University was founded in 1941; Peking University in 1898, RenMin University in 1937, and FuDan in University 1905. The last three of this list are three of the top-rated Universities in China. I think you see the trend too – every university in China is less than 120 years old in China. This lack of universities could be a vestige of the traditional Chinese support for mentor and apprentice-like trade schools, a general desire to not follow the Western model of education at a time when many Western schools were being established, or any number of other reasons. I pondered these thoughts as I walked through BeiDa, looking for the auditorium.

I met my host family, my ever-punctual host family, and we entered the building. Ben-Ben was assigned to be my translator and host for the Chinese world of Beijing Opera, should I or my host sister be in any need of assistance. To my delight, I didn’t need much help understanding the story, and I could follow the story by looking at the subtitles on the screens adorning the edge of the stage. I think that most of the Chinese people were looking at the screens too!

The story we watched this evening was about a young man who misses his mother, crosses the border to see pay filial respect, and then pleads for his life after being detained by a knifing old lady who plans to execute him for crossing into enemy territory. It was aptly called “The Fourth Son Looks for His Mom.” The plot of the story took its time. The story, the poetry, and the actors’ behavior onstage seemed to parallel Western Shakespearian Theatre. As is the case with Shakespeare, we can understand the play, but no one talks like that anymore. The actors’ movements onstage are also limited, and every movement made by the character expresses something deeper about the scene: emotion, social status, and a number of pantomimes for everyday life (such as opening a door, riding a horse or riding in a train). The scenery is minimal. I simple alteration in the backdrop could move the setting from a house to the Forbidden City. The costumes, on the other hand, are elaborate. Actors may wear three or four layer of clothing complete with huge white sleeves, gloves, platform shoes, headdresses, and a thick layer of face paint.

The play, by the way, lasted almost three hours. I had plenty of time to contemplate the Beijing Opera. After the show, one of the actors gave an encore in which he sang a piece from a famous piece of Beijing opera. His announcement brought cheers from the crowd, but the importance of the scene was lost on me.

I rode back towards campus in the night and stopped to get some roof food and an ice cream before going back to the dorm room to get some sleep.

Friday April 15th, 2011

Today is the day upon which I took the last weekly test that I shall take at ACC. What a day this is. The test was remarkably unremarkable, aside from the fact that it took me two and a half hours to complete.

After the test, we were to meet with a teacher to practice singing a song that the 2^nd and 4^th year students will present this Saturday at the Chinese Night. I have been saved from participation in this event, as my Chinese family invited me to attend a Beijing Opera on that same night. Nevertheless, I had to attend the vocal practice.

The 4^th year students met in the lobby of the dorm for lunch at 11:30. We then left the dorm in search of a restaurant in the neighborhood. We went to two restaurants, in the second of which we had already been seated before the teachers decided that they didn’t want to eat there. The powers that be finally decided that we should eat at the Chengdu Fish restaurant – a decision that I supported wholeheartedly, as it is one of my favorite restaurants in the neighborhood. A group of seven students and teachers were seated in our own private room, with Teacher Shi as the ringleader. He ordered a meal of spicy spit chicken (so named because it makes your mouth water), salad, bacon and jiu cai, stir-fried beef, lettuce in hao sauce, bok-choy, iron-pot potato slices, and white rice.

The meal was very good, but the morale at the table was dour. I know that some of you, dear readers, will sour at the mention of data that is not empirically provable (such as morale and inter-personal relationships), but I find it fascinating. The teachers are getting tired of teaching, and the two present had a few slips of tongue at the lunch table: “the semester here is really long,” “I am very ready to travel around Beijing after the semester ends,” and “the work at ACC is really too much,” to name a few. Conversation among the other students was restrained to a minimum, and they would break into short bursts of nervous laughter on occasion.  It was an interesting meal.

Since I was about to fall asleep at the lunch table, I napped in the room. Soon after waking up, Wes and Hannah came by the room. I helped them film a short movie that they are making to present at the Chinese Night. The movie is about the lives of students at ACC, and takes a comical look at the insanities of living in China and the numerous linguistic misunderstandings that have occurred over the past semester. I will get a copy of the movie before I return home.

Soon after that, we three went on our own quest for supper. After looking around at several restaurants and being deterred by the lengthy waits at a number of these, Wes and Hannah explained that they would like some fish. I refrained from mentioning that I ate there for lunch until after we were seated. If I hadn’t they would have insisted on going somewhere else, and I personally could eat at the restaurant whenever someone wants to go there. I am hindered from going there myself (a feat that I would be happy to pursue), except that the food at the restaurant is family-style. Ipso ergo facto, going there alone is expensive.

We strolled back to the dorm, and sat around while Wes edited the video. We offered assistance where it was needed, but mostly just watched while Wes worked magic with iMovie ’09. I have to say that I am a little jealous. The program responds a lot better than the ’08 version, and the software interface makes adjustments to the movie itself much easier. The movie wasn’t quite done as of this evening, but Wes declared that it could wait.

Wes, Hannah, Christina, Alex, and I went over to my room and watched two episodes of Arrested Development. We hung out, talking about the end of the program and what we would be doing when it ends on the 25^th. After the 2^nd episode, we all retired to our respective rooms. They had a big day on the morrow.

Thursday April 14th, 2011

I woke up late today. I set my alarm last night, and immediately forgot to change the setting on my phone from vibrate. And given that the Grand Harbinger was snoring, I was wearing earplugs. The vibrations from my phone, as strong as they may be when I am awake, are no match for Mack’s Original, Safe Sound, Soft Foam Earplugs. That is a mouthful of adjectives. I woke up at 7:40, with just enough time to make a PB & J and walk out the door, book in hand. I had to look over vocabulary one last time before going to class – so that I could give the impression of studiousness and interest in this film.

Today is our last day to study the movie! Class was bearable, especially keeping in mind that today was the last day of class! I walked from class to class, ready for the end of these repetitive schedules. Discussion and debate class seemed to last forever, and it did. We went over by 10-15 minutes.

I ran over to the Chengdu restaurant and got some roof food. In keeping with the motif I have been following over the last week, I was extremely hungry. I ordered what was labeled as “roast vegetable cookie,” which I took to mean a stuffed cookie that you could eat with your hands. I learned that “roast cookie” is a proxy for “stir-fry chopped unleavened bread.” Who would have known? I ate the take-out in the room as I skyped Morgan and answered emails. I know that I have been writing for this entire semester using the verb “skype” but have failed to note how this computer program has changed the way that we think about long-distance communication. Isn’t the evolution of languages cool? We now say things like “I’m going to skype him,” or “lets iChat,” or “I’m gmail chatting someone right now.” My linguistics professor would have a fit right now to think about the new technological words that we use in everyday conversation.

I went to one-on-one class for the last time. Ever. The teacher was quite snappy during this encounter, but I kept my eye on the prize. That is to say, I kept my eye on the clock. After a little while, I was free! I was out!

Bally was the destination for my celebration. I showered, ran by the bank again, and headed over to the Fellowship. I’d finally gotten all of the money to give to the Fellowship for the trip to Chengdu! If I have failed to mention, one can only retrieve 2,500 Yuan ($382.20) a day from Chinese ATMs. Thus, I have been making trips to the ATM to harvest money for the Fellowship.

After getting money from the bank, I waited for the bus by the school, only to find that line No 26 – my line to HaiDian Church – was having technical difficulties. I did not find waiting 20 minutes on the bus to be terribly surprising; I’d waited longer than that on a few occasions. However, judging from the reactions of my fellow travelers, a 20-minute delay seemed to signify imminent death, the end of the world, or the end of modern life as we know it. When the bus finally came, there were two of them, and we crammed on board. I got out at the Beijing Earthquake Center, which is the stop nearest the HaiDian church, and walked over to the church.

Fellowship was great, as always. Levi was playing guitar this week, and the worship leader was strumming along – rather offbeat – on what looked like a Wal-Mart guitar. It sounded rough, but I have to give him an A for effort and heart. Instead of standing at our seats for worship this week, they cleared out a spot in the middle and we all stood together and sang. We sang a song called “The World Wouldn’t be as Good if It Didn’t Have You” (in Chinese) – a song that you sing with a partner. I normally would be appalled at singing a song with both motions and a partner, but I was in China. I could afford to step out of the box.

Bible study was this week was amazing. It is so encouraging to see all of the new Christians in the group. We talked about Matthew 14, at the passage where Jesus walks on water. It was enlightening to hear their perspectives on this passage, and it was also interesting to see the linguistic differences in the English and Chinese versions. Every time that we meet, the group goes around and reads the passage aloud, every person reading a verse until the end of that section. They always want me to read, and it is a moderately horrifying experience. There are numbers of specific words that I know how to say, but have no idea what they mean outside of context. They always congratulate me on finishing my 10 to 12 word verse, and I get claps and a little cheer for my dismal performance. It is pretty funny.

After the Fellowship, I transferred the money to Bing-Bing. She was excited about the trip, and in her matter-of-fact manner said that she would send me a spreadsheet of how the money was spent. I couldn’t help but laugh at her robotic tendencies. She is very open in her views of modern life, Christianity, history and Western political systems, but when it comes to manners, she has been deeply influenced by the Chinese norms of behavior. “Why don’t you send us a letter telling us about how the trip goes? I’m sure that the people of my church would love to hear more about that.” “If they would like that more, I will try to write you a letter. Maybe Jesse can help me.”

I walked to the nearest McDonalds with the worship team – Jesse, Bing-Bing, David, Jiao-Jiao, Tian Hong, Yu Ren, and Levi, who are also the chief planners of the trip to Chengdu. I sat and listened to their ideas for the service and for the church, and I was very impressed. They have the trip down to a T, and are planning two nights of worship to be held in a public square in a suburb of Chongqing.

You may have heard about an incident that occurred in Beijing last Sunday. A group of Christians got together in a square in Beijing and had a worship service. This is highly illegal in Beijing, and everyone knows that having a worship service in a public area like that (no matter what religion) is going to elicit prompt police reprisals. Around 100 people were adjusted last Sunday, but to my knowledge, no one was hurt in the event.

Unlike in Beijing, religion is not as frowned upon in Chongqing, a city that is geographically and ideologically distant from the conservative capitol. Bo Xilai, who some consider to be one of the top choices for party chairman in the next few years, is currently the secretary of Chongqing, and has pursued a much more “liberal” course if action than the norm of Beijing. The wikipedia article on Bo Xilai is a little dry, and does little to convey his growing clout in China. I do believe that we will hear more of Mr. Bo in the west within a few years. The city from which Jesse hails is excited to have these college students come to help out their church, and they see the event as a sort of feather in their cap. This is the reason that Jesse is going to be able to help lead worship in Chongqing.

For dinner, I ate a Big Mac, fries, sweet tea, and a chicken sandwich. After that, I was still hungry. Everyone gawked at me for eating so much food. What do they expect? I am a hungry Westerner!

I took a cab back to Bei Wai (The Beijing Foreign Languages University) with Jesse. We talked about the trip to Chengdu, and then Jesse brought up something that she has been thinking about over the last week. She wants to try to go to seminary in the States after she graduates! She and Levi are looking to get married sometime after they graduate, and they will either work for a year or go straight over to the States. Levi is trying to get into an American university with a Master’s program in engineering, and the two of them are trying to find a city where they can live together and both study.

Walked back to the dorm, and studied a little before going to bed.

I slept hard.

I’ll write soon!

Love,

Jamey

Wednesday April 13th, 2011

Class, class, class, class, class class.

I skyped Morgan, and worked some on the computer after debate class. Time dripped by. I was scheduled to go to one-on-one class. This was my first time to play hooky since the onset of the semester, and I played my get-out-of-class card.

For lunch, I ate roof food at Ma Lan. I don’t know if I have been blocking this out, but when Chinese people eat, it is a very noisy process. I almost couldn’t eat myself, with all of the smacking, sucking, slurping, guzzling, dripping and hocking around me. I was especially impressed by the digestive noises by a froggy-looking woman at the next table over.

Then, I went back to the dorm to survey the lay of the land from the vantage point of my window. What began as a cheery, springtime day was quickly degrading into smoggy half-light and a I watched the process with a mixture of dread and interest. I read more from What the Dog Saw and was inspired once again my Gladwell’s expertise with the pen. If anyone needs an upcoming writer for current news, I am available.

I gathered my belongings and again faced the challenge of the treadmill. Treadmill defeated, I then went to work subduing the pull-up bar. It was vanquished.

I swung by the bank and then picked up some groceries from a supermarket in the neighborhood. I purchased supplies necessary for breakfast: eggs, yogurt in bags, bread, and bananas. I also purchased some mangoes. If you were not aware, dear reader, I have never eaten a raw mango before, and today is the day that I make that purchase.

I went out to eat with Wes and Hannah, this time at a home-style restaurant in an area called Weigong Cun. There is a main road in the neighborhood called Weigong Cun (translated Weigong Village) and another small side street that is goes by that same name. This restaurant was on the smaller of those streets, set back off the road and adorned with a big red sign. The establishment boasted cuisine from one of the remote provinces of the People’s Republic. For dinner, we ate roast beef fat (we did not mean to order that, mind you), fried green beans with red peppers, rice noodles on a fried egg, and stir-fry eggplant. It was a very good meal, and I thought it even more so because I have been quite hungry over the last few days, no matter how much I eat.

We walked back to the dorm, and then I had more studying to do. I had the last day of class tomorrow. I was ready.

Sleep.

Tuesday April 12, 2011

I awoke and began the morning routine of boiling eggs, making tea, and making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I looked over work for today, and watched the segment of the movie we were studying again as a re-read vocabulary. Then I went to class. Oh class! I will not miss you when I am freed of you.

I was, to say the very least, very tired from my adventures on the previous night. I needed some way to get better sleep, some way to keep the Grand Harbinger from having such an erratic sleep schedule. I pondered these thoughts while I repeated grammar structures and fidgeted in my chair. The little wooden seats make my rear end go numb after a little while, and the act of sitting in class, in the little midget chairs, is most disagreeable.

The weather has warmed over the past few days, and today’s warmth was followed by a thick layer of smog sitting over the city. Visibility was probably at a half-mile. The effect of the smog is a little chilling, and gives an eerie light to Beijing. My barometer said that today was too smoggy to be outside very much, unless one wants to sacrifice one’s lungs, and I consequently spent the majority of the day in hermetically sealed rooms.

After debate and discussion class, I went over to the Chengdu restaurant right outside the West Gate with Luke. We both ordered roof food, and I ordered hot and spicy soup. Dear readers, I don’t know if this is a verifiable trend in China, but on both occasions that I have ordered hot and spicy soup in China, they have been less than comestible. Today, I ate the soup out of spite. I would not let that bowl of hot and spicy soup go to waste. I do have good news, however. The chemical and industrial cleaner taste that the hot and spicy soup initially gives you fades with time.

I returned to the room and read a little from The World is Flat. The book almost put me to sleep, but I resisted the urge to fall into that trap. I decided to watch a movie, as that would keep me awake and give me some time to “gather my strength.” I have been on a dystopian movie kick as of late. I love dystopian novels, and dystopian movies, when they are done well, do an equally good job of presenting the watcher with a vague sense of dread at the approaching future and instilling in the watcher a sense of duty to do his or her part from keeping such a dystopia from occurring. The only down side to that scenario is that the majority of dystopian movies are horribly done. Take, for instance, the film Battlefield Earth. I would encourage you, dear readers, to watch that movie on a day that you doubt your own intelligence. This movie will convince you of your prowess in intellect and critical thinking.

After the film ended in a series of explosions and the realization of a crappy love story against the backdrop of the violent destruction of an oppressive alien race, I went to Bally and ran.

I came back and played guitar.

Supper with Wes and Hannah was good. We ate Mala Tang, and talked of the end of the program. Hannah has been really stressed with the work; she had only studied Chinese for 6 months before joining the 2^nd year program here. As far as stress goes, Wes was not much better than she. They will do good to graduate from the program.

Studying. Bedtime.

Monday April 11th, 2011

Thus begins the last week of class. Thankfully, this week we are studying a movie. What does that mean for me? Classes this week are extremely easy (bordering on the obscene), and that studying has been kept to a minimal. The teachers seem to have calmed down after the exchange of directors, and most of the teachers have been in good spirits this week, a nice change for us students.

Spring continues to erupt around me. I am a little horrified to go outside, as I know that vehicles covered in pollen, green grass (which I saw for the first time today), and blooming flowers only means allergies to me. Surprisingly, I have been saved from the worst of reactions to this invasive pollen. It seems that everyday flowers on different species of trees are blooming, and today the stage was set for little pink flowers on short, ornamental trees are in full bloom. The Chinese plum trees (which do not, to my knowledge, produce any plums) are also in full bloom, showering the sidewalks with a layer of pink petals.

More and more people are taking to the streets during the day, no longer afraid of the cold. I can see people rollerblading, playing soccer, kicking the jianzi, playing badminton, or just walking around all over the city, throughout the entire day. But the evenings are the best time to see people out and about. Chinese people tend to eat earlier than their Western counterparts, and are done by 6:00 or 6:30. And after dinner, everyone takes to the streets – playing with babies, getting caught up on the latest gossip, hanging out, and doing any number of strange excerise (like Rou Li Ball). Rou Li Ball is where one has two paddles covered stretchy layer of amorphous plastic, taking these paddles and rolling the ball around, while turning around and dancing slowly.

I witnessed all of these things while I walked to lunch; I was bound for the dumpling shack again. I read a women’s health magazine while I waited. For one, it was the only thing at hand to read, and secondly, I could actually read the articles. As I read up on the state of Xiao Mis (Home-wreckers, third wheels, literally translated into “little sugar”) in China, Luke rode up on his rickshaw. He was trying to peddle off some of the many things that he had acquired in China, a giant basket and a beer crate. He sold the beer crate for 15 Yuan to a restaurant nearby, and then he ate some dumplings with me.

He wanted to travel to the wholesale market not far from the dorm, and I did not mind getting out. We set a date for 3:30 that afternoon, and I went over to Bally to ride. We met at the dorm a little after the appointed time, and we were off.

We rode east and north, passing massage parlors, sex shops, hair salons, hot pot restaurants, traditional medicine clinics, factory camping gear outlets, hotels, elementary school with their yellow-hatted children, colleges, government buildings, and all of the other things that I have come to expect riding the streets of Beijing. The wholesale market was much the same as the last time that I visited it, and we wondered through the aisles, perusing the myriad of goods, and trying our best not to get scammed by the bloodthirsty shopkeepers. Luke made a purchase of some ping-pong gear, and I bought a set of shai zi! We’ll have to play when I get home.

After that, Luke and I rode back to the MinZu campus in the crisp Beijing evening air. It cools quickly in the city. I came back to the dorm and played guitar for a little while before getting some supper at a Chengdu restaurant by the West Gate. I ate roof food, and then loitered around a vendor selling BBQ kabobs in the street. I chatted with a youngish-looking guy who was working for the owner of the street side BBQ vendor while I snacked on spicy roast lamb kabobs. He was from Harbin and was enjoying the comparative heat of Beijing. He was a little unnerved to be talking with a foreigner, I could tell, and after a little while, I rode back to the dorm in the night.

Then it was time to study. I watched a depressing movie called Farewell My Concubine, while I studied the corresponding vocabulary. By the time it is all said and done, we will have learned every vocabulary word in it, discussed every little emotion, and hypothesized about every facet of the movie.

I slept fitfully in the growing heat of the room. Yuki took a call around 12:30 in the room, and then I woke up at 2:00 with a parched throat. I wobbled downstairs to fill the water bottle to find a contingent of ACC students hanging out there and taking advantage of the teacher absence to speak English. Oh ACC!

I’ll write soon (although not for much longer)!

Love,

Jamey

Sunday April 10th, 2011

I awoke this morning feeling a little dizzy. I was way out of it. The sun was shining in the middle of the sky, but my watch read 7:10 in the morning. I later found out that my watch had died. My phone had also died, and I had to turn on the computer to determine the time. It was 11:00 in the morning. I also felt strangely… I felt healthy. My sickness had passed.

For lunch, I went over to the Dumpling shack and got some jiaozi. I packed my bag so that I could ride straight over to Bally. As I rode my bike after the meal, I chanced upon a man selling very legitimate copies of books out of the back of his rickshaw. I found a copy of Malcolm Gladwell’s What the Dog Saw, and considering how good the last book I read by this author was, I bought it. At Bally, I rode the stationary trainer, and then did a bibathalon. What is a bibathalon, you ask? It is the baby version of the hottest new exercise routine at ACC – the tribathalon. The tribathalon consists of steam, sauna, and then a shower, and is revolutionizing the way that we think about exercise here in the great People’s Republic. A bibathalon is only steam and a shower. I encourage you to participate in tribathalons in your respective hometowns, as well.

I did a little homework, and after that I got some pizza at West Pizza with Luke, Cliff, and William. We each ordered a Caesar’s salad, and we shared a large meat lovers’ pizza. A word to the wise: just because the menu says that it is a Caesar’s salad does not mean that it has Caesar’s salad dressing. Whenever you see the word “dressing” in a Chinese menu, please substitute that word for “mayonnaise,” then you will have an accurate idea of what you will be eating. Over the meal, we discussed the things that we would eat when we get back to the States, which is one of my favorite exercises when I’m eating pseudo-Western food in this country.

After that, it was back up to the room, a little reading, and then time to hit the sack.

Keep it classy, world!

Love,

Jamey

Saturday April 9th, 2011

I passed a rather simple day today. I woke up after a fitful night of sleeping, feverish and sweating. I hung around the room and watched two movies – The Dark Crystal and The Blade Runner. Then I went and got some lunch. I ate some Malatang, and afterwards, I picked up a book from a back alley bookseller. Who knew that “bookseller” was one word? It was a copy of The World is Flat. I read some of the book that afternoon, and I heartily approve.

That evening, I got some food at the noodle restaurant up the street. I came back up to the room, read some, and then I talked to Morgan via Skype. Then I slept.

See, not a very exciting day. I’ll do something interesting soon.

I’ll write soon!

Love,

Jamey

Friday April 8th, 2011

Today, we had the day off! We loaded in the buses at 8:00 in the morning, and we traveled to Tianjin, a city about 70-80 miles from Beijing. Judging distance in this country is sometimes problematic, as traveling by car and bus is much slower than in the States. For one, the trip is frequently interrupted by tollbooths along the road, and vehicles aren’t allowed to go nearly as fast as cars in the States. So If you’re riding somewhere in China, bank on traveling at about 40 miles an hour.

I read on the way, and I finished reading my copy of Blink. I highly recommend the book to anyone who hasn’t read it yet, and I might even recommend that those who have already read it read it again! I tried to read some of my Chinese book, but I tend to fall asleep rather easily in cars. I was out in no time, and only woke up once we were in a suburb of Tianjin.

I would like to remark that cities in China seem to spread out indefinitely, until something physical blocks their progress, or some major infrastructure downfall checks cities’ alarming growth. We found ourselves in a suburb of Tianjin over 60 kilometers from the city center (!), riding through what looked like a giant industrial park. After several choice words by the bus driver, a frantic call to one of his friends, and a few u-turns, we found ourselves in front of our destination – Tianjin Suburb Orphanage.

I don’t know if I made this clear in the last message, but I have been pretty anxious about gong to this orphanage (if you do not know, I have 3 adopted siblings). The institution of the orphanage is in every country a fairly dismal institution, and although Chinese orphanages are much better than orphanages in other parts of the world – due to a larger budget from the Chinese government, but that does not make me want to visit an orphanage any more, especially as I am not in a position to help either the orphanage, or even a single child over the long-term. I know all that I need to know about orphanages, and I am not particularly interested in going to this one.

I have been hesitant in writing this journal, and I have been rather in the dark about what exactly I want to talk about. I have been attempting to determine if our act of going to this orphanage had any defined goal, and I have come to the conclusion that the teachers wanted nothing more than to take us somewhere to look around. We were essentially tourists at an orphanage. Upon our arrival, the teachers and the administration floundered about, unsure about what to do with us. I was unsure of what to do with us. A stray dog wandered up to be petted. It was petted. We were admitted.

The group of some 30 college students was split into 6 groups, and we were each assigned to a specific house. In each house resided a number of children, ranging from 12 months old to 21 years old. One of the girls in the group looked at me and said, “I’m not very good with kids. I can’t relate to them very well…” You’re in the wrong place, sister. I was in the last group to break away, and we were shown into a building where ten 12 to 18-month-old babies lived with three caretakers. One more thing: the teachers did not elaborate on the nature of children who are abandoned in China. Almost all of them are girls or special needs children. When we entered the room, it was full of smiling little special needs kids. They were all very cute, and seemed to developing well – considering the circumstances. However, the rest of the group stood agape. They weren’t expecting special needs kids. They gawked at the little kids.

I jumped in and scooped up a little girl with a clef palate and hearing problems, and we read a storybook together. We read a few books, and then it was time for naps and lunch (we had come at an awkward time). A few of the people in the group were a little freaked, I could tell, and they headed outside to play with the older kids pretty quick. I stayed in with the babies and helped the ladies feed the kids lunch – rice mush. I prayed that the rice mush had formula or vitamins in it, as the caretakers didn’t look like the brightest ladies on the block.

The teachers talked among themselves as they swung on the swing-set.

Soon, we were told to gather our things. It was time to leave. We sat through a rather awkward information session, in which one of the orphanage workers told us about life in a Chinese orphanage. Any questions? A few hands went up, and a few halfhearted questions were asked.

On the way to Tianjin, I pondered the meaning of the rather strange trip that we had just taken part in. I was confused, to say the least. I slept.

I awoke in Tianjin. The bus pulled to a stop in front of the Tianjin South Eateries Street – a tourist trap. Again! The teachers had taken us to a tourist area and told us to fend for ourselves. Wes, Hannah, and I went in search of food, and we dined at a “certified tourist restaurant” that specialized in baozi. The specialty of the restaurant was a baozi called “the dog won’t even eat it” baozi. Not a very encouraging name, huh? We ordered some of the dog baozi, and I also ate a bowl of zhou, the Chinese version of oatmeal. Zhou can come in a number of flavors, ranging from corn to rice to black rice to green beans to whatever you’d like to eat in mashed form.

Then, we looked around the area. We found a curious set of buildings, which appared to have been built within the last 5 years, and then promptly abandoned. Of the 30-40 buildings that we passed, only 2 were occupied. One was an office for the development park, and the other was an architecture firm.

From there, we walked over to what had once been the south gate of Old Tianjin, a 4-story-tall bell tower. The inside of the bell tower had been converted into a museum, which “made the best of the CCP’s systematic destruction of traditional housing and forced relocation of thousands of citizens,” to borrow a phrase from Fodor’s. The museum was the most interesting free museum that I have seen, and according to Wes, the museum also receives the award of being the most ill-designed museum that he has seen. The museum was full of dioramas of life in the dangerous, old, Hutong-like houses contrasted with dioramas of symmetrical, manicured parks that would have looked more at home in Orwell’s 1984.

Keep in mind, dear reader, that I am still a little under the weather, and all of this physical exertion (actually very little exertion at that) had me ready to fall asleep. We walked back to the bus, and I read for about a grand total of 5 minutes before falling asleep.

I awoke as we hit 5^th ring road in Beijing. We had a while yet to get to the dorm, and we had been on the road for almost 3 hours by the time that we stopped in front of the MinZu University.

I was hungry and a little snappy (we had been in traffic for 2 hours!), and I went to get some food. I felt a lot better after that, and I came back up to the room to check emails. I watched the movie Blindness, which I thought was a passable movie.

I fell asleep with prayers that I would get better soon on my lips.

I’ll write soon!

Love,

Jamey

April 4th to 7th, 2011

I regretfully inform you, dear readers, that precious little has happened over the last 4 days.

Last Friday, the hot water to the dorm was either purposefully shut off, or they are “repair pipes” in the building. I was inclined to believe that the dorm was actually having pipe problems, but the teacher seem to think that something sinister lies beneath their benevolent-sounding notices by the elevator. It doesn’t matter either way, as the result is the same. I have been going to Bally and taking showers.

I finished making the movie. Finally. It’s done.

On Tuesday, I began to develop symptoms of an allergy infection. On Tuesday night, I couldn’t fall asleep till two thirty in the morning, and was up before 7:00.

On Wednesday, I read some from the book Blink. I now need to read more books about decision-making processes in the brain, military strategy, and a number of other topics.

On Thursday, the grass in Beijing began to turn green. I also learned that one can only withdraw 2,000 Yuan from Chinese ATMs in one day. Imagine that.

I’m a little nervous about the morrow. We are going to visit an orphanage, or so I hear.

I’ll update you soon, hopefully with news of me getting better.

I’ll write soon!

Love,

Jamey

Sunday April 3rd, 2011

I had plans for the day. I was on a mission. I worked on homework for the morrow. I steeled my nerves and prepared my camera. I watered my steed. I was riding south. I had had enough of simply hearing about the protests that happened every Sunday afternoon near Xidan. I was going to see for myself.

Before I could ride to see these events firsthand, I needed to get something to eat. I stopped at the noodle restaurant near the school (not Ma Lan). I’m sure I could translate the name, or maybe even come up with a creative name for the restaurant if I had something to go off of, but the truth of the matter is that I have no idea what this restaurant is called. Their noodles are good, though, and knowing the name of the establishment from which they emerge is of little importance to me. I was seated at a table simultaneously occupied by another young fellow such as myself, due to the heavy traffic in the restaurant and the lack of free tables.

He stared at me the majority of the time that he ate his noodles. A less hardy version of myself (perhaps even one that landed in Beijing weeks ago) would have been unnerved by this behavior, but not I. I simply stared back or looked around the rest of the people resting in the restaurant. When my noodles were served, his were in his stomach, and my tablemate decided that thist was an opportune time to strike up conversation with me. (I don’t know why we couldn’t have begun this conversation earlier, but oh well.) Turns out that he lives in the neighborhood and works as a software designer (or graphic designer) for one of the neighboring firms. Somehow we got on the conversation of music. We both play guitars, it turns out, and we both think that getting a high quality guitar in China costs way more than it is worth. He came over to the States to visit our Guitar Center, buying a 1979 Les Paul so that he can jam out to his favorite metal tunes. I would like to interject that I hope wherever he went in the States has better Guitar Centers than Alabama. Then, as soon as the conversation began, he was out the door. “I have to meet someone.” Interesting.

I rode on through the Beijing city. I passed glut upon glut of capitalism, everything covered in foil and decorated with gaudy figurines. By the way, does anyone need be to bring them a 4-foot rabbit or duck carrying a basket? I can make that happen.

As I wound my way towards Xidan, I began to grow nervous. I had heard too many stories – interviews by the police, street side interrogations, water hoses, locking people in stores, beating up protestors, registering and confiscation of cameras… What would happen today? I ditched the bike (better to travel by foot and blend in, I thought), and inched my way towards what I perceived to be the epicenter of protesting and destruction. What did I see on those ravaged streets of Beijing? What noble cause were the people rising up and supporting? Which evil, corrupt official was going to meet his untimely end at the hands of thee dissidents?

…The suspense is killing me too…

Nothing.

All I saw were contented-looking couples and college-aged kids being consumers – eating ice cream, carry shopping bags from the expensive stores lining the streets, chatting, burning cell phone minutes, hopelessly trying to arrange dates with the opposite sex, and generally being content Beijing people. What was the matter with these people? What had happened? I don’t know, but they did seem a lot more satisfied with their material and political life than the last time that I heard of them. So what should one do in a situation such as this? I decided to take a look around.

I took my investigation underground. I then realized that I had entered the fabled underground shopping market of the Xidan subway station. It was much like all of the other markets in China – everything was fake, everyone yelled at you, and the prices bordered on the obscene. After being in the market for about ten minutes, I’d say, I was about to burn alive. The market had to have been 90 degrees, and I was wearing long sleeves and cords. I went topside.

By this time, I was getting a little claustrophobic. There were people everywhere; no one could walk without stepping on someone. Cars couldn’t move, and doing as cars in Beijing do when they can’t move, they began a chorus of honking, in hopes that the excess noise might propel them down the street at a faster rate. Speaking from experience, this rarely works, and neither did it work today. I was racking my brain about Xidan, things that I knew, things to see.

I looked around for the great Xidan bookstore, reportedly the largest in Beijing. I thought, surely there wouldn’t be that many people in abookstore on a Sunday. I was wrong. I fought and pushed my way through the dismal English section, stepped on a camouflaged girl sitting on the floor, and finally caught some air in the linguistic section. I found an interesting book dissecting the idea of comparisons in the Chinese language, which was very interesting. I also had a desire to make some Chinese food when I went back to the States, and I found a real Chinese cookbook, full of ambiguous directions and measures. It would suit my purposes well. I made these purchases and headed out.

I passed several signs for Hutongs on the way over, and I rode through some of them. Most of the Hutongs were on the verge of being torn down. The public sanitation, electrical, and plumbing departments of this area looked to be a little outdated, and modern neighborhood loomed just over the tops of the ancient houses. Ole people shuffled about in the streets, children played, and others simply stared at me out of doorframes. I did find one group of Children that wanted to practice speaking English with me, and I ended up talking to some old ladies from the neighborhood for about an hour.

Then I rode back and got a bite at the dumpling shack. I studied a little more before hitting the sack.