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.

Saturday April 2nd, 2011

Today, I woke up and went on a search for bike keys. I was going to take a ride around some Hutongs with Hannah, Wes, and Eric, and all of the people that I had asked for keys had flaked out on me. I just couldn’t believe it. ACC people being flaky. Who would’ve thought? After trying to find people for an hour, we hung it up and took the subway over to the Rear Lake area.

Rear Lake only seems to get prettier and prettier as the spring progresses – or should I say as it thinks about progressing? There is still comparatively little green around Beijing, but spring must be just around the corner, as Beijing city workers are pruning all of the trees around the city and preparing flower beds. The Rear Lake area was much as it has been for the last few times that I’ve been over, and so I won’t bore you with the details of what we saw and experienced there.

We did find two very interesting stores in the Hutongs there. The first was a guy who was selling T-shirts, bags, coffee mugs, and other knick-knacks with comedic slogans across them. The owner of the store came up with the idea of an “ObaMao” T-shirt, where the Pres is waving Mao’s little red book and wearing communist-era clothing. I have to say that it is pretty funny. Other items include the “I voted for Obama and all I got was this lousy bag” bag, a coin bag that says “eating, drinking, and having fun bag – brought to you by the CCP,” and “you are my 3/4.” The owner finds all of these slogans extremely funny (he made them up himself). He is a very infectious guy, and we were all laughing by the time we left. The second store sold leather goods. I bought a manly leather bracelet, while my compadres looked at leather-bound notebooks, wallets, and other such leather goods.

After that, we went and got some pizza at Hutong Pizza, one of the top foreign pizzerias in Beijing. We ordered one mushroom and spinach pizza and one Mediterranean pizza. Don’t get me wrong, the pizzas were good; they just made we want to eat American pizzas more. I’m craving Wal-mart refrigerated pizzas, and you know that I am bad when I crave something from Wal-mart. Over the meal, we listened to Eric spin tales of living in Japan. It sounds like an interesting place to visit, but I still don’t know if I would want to live there…

From there, we headed over to the Hutong that I visited a few weeks ago (where I played Chinese chess). I took them around the Hutong, and we saw a lot of the same sights that I looked at before. It was fun being their tour guide on a not-so-touristy tour of Beijing. After seeing our fill of the Hutong, and stocking up on tea from a tea shop there, we trudged towards the nearest subway. I was near dead after the day of walking (after my day of running), and I took the subway back to the dorm, wrote, and generally took it easy. They went to see Tian’An Men.

They came back after about an hour of seeing the majestic square of the people, and I went to meet them at the Chengdu Fish restaurant. We ate a meal of stir-fry green beans, sautéed potatoes with onions, stir-fry chicken, soy braised Japanese tofu, rice, and washed that down with Qingdao.

I’m not sure what that party did for the rest of the evening, but I came back to the dorm. I wrote some, and worked on finishing the movie.