We are packing up the van that will drive us and our loads of luggage across the border and bridge to Hong Kong airport.
We read it is snowing in Utah. It's 80 degrees here and very humid.
UTAH here we come
16 years ago
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
What We'll Miss
As we squatted on our foot-high stools around our 2 1/2 square foot table and pick up our dinner meal with chopsticks, I asked everyone what they would miss about our time here.
Isabel: Sitting like this and using chopsticks
Jacek: Bus #43
Sofia: The theme music that wafts across the apartment complex in the evenings
Kif: Our concentrated family time
Stirling: Where are we going this week?
Our flight leaves Hong Kong at 5:05 pm on Wednesday. We get to San Francisco at 2:07 pm, before we've even left Hong Kong.
What they want to eat when they get back: Grandma's Spaghetti, Shauntell's Meat Sandwiches, Costco Pizza.
Isabel: Sitting like this and using chopsticks
Jacek: Bus #43
Sofia: The theme music that wafts across the apartment complex in the evenings
Kif: Our concentrated family time
Stirling: Where are we going this week?
Our flight leaves Hong Kong at 5:05 pm on Wednesday. We get to San Francisco at 2:07 pm, before we've even left Hong Kong.
What they want to eat when they get back: Grandma's Spaghetti, Shauntell's Meat Sandwiches, Costco Pizza.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
waigouren/zhongouren
As we left our apartment building this morning for church, two little boys in red shirts scootered to a quick stop in front of us. "waiguoren! waigouren!(Foreigners! Foreigners!)" one pointed at us with surprise. On cue, Jacek, Sofia and Stirling all pointed back "zhongouren! zhongouren! (Chinese! Chinese!)." Confused, the boy shook his head no. The three "waigouren" nodded their heads yes. "You are too Chinese," the laughed.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Hong Kong
We've had a wonderful day: pastries from a Golden Mile shop; subway to Hong Kong Island from our hotel on Kowloon; funicular up Victoria Peak; 360 degree view of Hong Kong from the Sky Terrace; Graham Street market with sliced fish so fresh their hearts still beat; Fu Yuen Street Market open from 6:00 am to 2:00 am every day; tangerine skins at the Wholesale Food Market; bargaining (again!) at the Jade Market; the Langham Place Mall with escalators going up four flights through an open air lobby and then another escalator going up another four flights; Shang Shang Shanghai food for dinner.
Then our luck turned. At the Mong Kok station, Isabel stepped into the subway car. Stirling stopped on the platform, said "Wait" and turned to look for the rest of us who trailed behind. The yellow caution light flashed. The inside doors closed. Stirling turned back, saw Isabel inside, and instinctively shoved his body between the closing outside glass doors, then wrenched them as hard as he could to open them. I ran up and pounded with my fists on the inside doors as Stirling shouted to Isabel "Tsim Sha Tsui" the stop for our hotel. Magically, the inside doors opened and a crying Isabel shot into Sofia's arms. We were very grateful the engineer was watching.
On every trip, I've had Isabel tell me over and over again what hotel we are staying at. Here it is the Imperial Hotel on Nathan Road. We've talked about finding an adult with a child to help her if she gets lost. Now we've added, "If you get separated from the group on the subway, get off at the next stop and stay put." But, it won't happen again.
Isabel's subway separation happened very quickly and only lasted a few minutes. Really, it's been a very wonderful day.
Then our luck turned. At the Mong Kok station, Isabel stepped into the subway car. Stirling stopped on the platform, said "Wait" and turned to look for the rest of us who trailed behind. The yellow caution light flashed. The inside doors closed. Stirling turned back, saw Isabel inside, and instinctively shoved his body between the closing outside glass doors, then wrenched them as hard as he could to open them. I ran up and pounded with my fists on the inside doors as Stirling shouted to Isabel "Tsim Sha Tsui" the stop for our hotel. Magically, the inside doors opened and a crying Isabel shot into Sofia's arms. We were very grateful the engineer was watching.
On every trip, I've had Isabel tell me over and over again what hotel we are staying at. Here it is the Imperial Hotel on Nathan Road. We've talked about finding an adult with a child to help her if she gets lost. Now we've added, "If you get separated from the group on the subway, get off at the next stop and stay put." But, it won't happen again.
Isabel's subway separation happened very quickly and only lasted a few minutes. Really, it's been a very wonderful day.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Broken Necks
In Hong Kong, there are no Broken Necks. That’s the name Sofia, Jacek and Isabel have affectionately given to the myriads of people who openly stare -- no, gawk -- at us in Shenzhen. I’m afraid we’ll cause a traffic accident when truck drivers spot us up ahead and then lean out the window to crane 180 degrees and beyond as they drive by. “Broken Neck,” I say to Sofia as a woman riding tandem with a crying child swivels around to see us. “Broken Neck on the right” Isabel says as a grandma stops sweeping the street to tracks our steps. I thought I’d be used to it by now, but we just arrived by subway in Hong Kong and I can feel the difference. Not a soul has stared at us, not one.
And, I have VPN-free blog access. I(heart)HongKong.
And, I have VPN-free blog access. I(heart)HongKong.
Who are the people in your family?
While I was judging a moot court tryout round this morning, Cheryl, one of the office assistants, waved at me insistently through the glass window of the classroom door. I finished judging moot court, then went down to the office to see what she wanted. She searched around on her desk for two documents, one white, one pink and said “These are in Chinese. Maybe I will tell you what they say” as if I might already know what she was talking about. I didn’t. She said “When you live in an apartment complex, you have rules.” “Oh, no” I thought, “someone has complained about us at Lakefront Fairyland. We’ve probably broken all kinds of rules, but it’s a little late to tell us exactly what the rules are.” She continued “I have to register your apartment contract. When I register your contract, you have to register your family.” “But,” I say “we are leaving in a week.” “But, I tell them that you are leaving, so they say you don’t register your family.”
Cheryl’s pause gave weight to her next words, “The family planning count will happen at your apartment on Tuesday.” “What?” I said in surprise. “In China, we have a family planning rule, one child per family. It is a very strict rule.” My mind raced “Right, I know that . . . but, I have three children . . . They are already here. . . The rule can’t possibly apply to us . . . I don’t need or want family planning advice from the neighborhood clinic or the Chinese state.” “On Tuesday,” she repeated “the family planning advice will happen at your apartment. “ “But . . . but . . .” I spluttered. She looked me in the eye, “Your family is not registered. Don’t open the door.”
Cheryl’s pause gave weight to her next words, “The family planning count will happen at your apartment on Tuesday.” “What?” I said in surprise. “In China, we have a family planning rule, one child per family. It is a very strict rule.” My mind raced “Right, I know that . . . but, I have three children . . . They are already here. . . The rule can’t possibly apply to us . . . I don’t need or want family planning advice from the neighborhood clinic or the Chinese state.” “On Tuesday,” she repeated “the family planning advice will happen at your apartment. “ “But . . . but . . .” I spluttered. She looked me in the eye, “Your family is not registered. Don’t open the door.”
What do you need: bullhorn or cell phone?
October 20, 2009
Question: In China, who is louder, someone with a bullhorn or someone with a cell phone?
Answer: The cell phone screamer.
Question: In China, who is louder, someone with a bullhorn or someone with a cell phone?
Answer: The cell phone screamer.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Jacek's Bargain at Mutianyu (The Great Wall)
Jacek bargained with broken bones at Mutianyu and came out ahead. An old man in an olive green army jacket graced by a sparkly Obama pin on the front followed us up a 12 foot ladder into one of the guards' towers to persuade Jacek to buy a cheap, gold colored Great Wall medal on a red ribbon. After a great conversation, Jacek finally said yes and we all turned to go back down. Jacek took three steps, then slipped and fell the rest of the way down to the stones below. Stirling saw him fall the nine or ten feet. As the last in line, I only heard the clunks and Stirling saying "Don't move, buddy. Really, don't move. I'm coming down." Stirling checked Jacek out: no broken tibia, no broken fibula, no broken femur, no broken ankle, no broken foot, no broken wrist, as far as he could tell. Jacek had bloody knees and the bruises have grown larger and darker with time, but he could walk and his knee caps survived intact.
Tonight, back in Shenzhen, we talked about what we are grateful for. Isabel said "that Jacek didn't break any bones on the Great Wall." He also got lost on the wall, but that's a story for another time.
Tonight, back in Shenzhen, we talked about what we are grateful for. Isabel said "that Jacek didn't break any bones on the Great Wall." He also got lost on the wall, but that's a story for another time.
Sofia's and Isabel's Bargains at Mutianyu (The Great Wall)
The Mutianyu section of the Great Wall snakes across mountain ridges an hour and a half outside of Beijing. I tried to imagine what it would have been like to be a soldier living on the wall, looking out into a distant valley for the enemy, sleeping on the cold stone far from home.
Sofia was my personal shopper at all the little stalls along the pathway to the wall. She's ask me how much I was willing to pay for something and then doggedly bargain down to that range. Her best strategy was to simply keep repeating her low ball offer, "San shi kuai" (30 yuan), in the face of the outrageous price the vendor first quoted "Yi bai ba shi kuai" (180 yuan). When the vendor said "I'll give you the Chinese price because you speak Chinese" and lowered the price to 160 yuan, she'd say "San shi kuai." To "Come on, give a little," she'd smile and say "San shi yi kuai" (31 yuan). As she walked away with her purchases, some vendors complained to each other in Chinese about the hard bargains she drove.
Isabel did some great bargaining at the wall too. With her good knowledge of numbers and bargainig strategy, she got presents for several friends.
I'll try and get some pictures up soon.
Sofia was my personal shopper at all the little stalls along the pathway to the wall. She's ask me how much I was willing to pay for something and then doggedly bargain down to that range. Her best strategy was to simply keep repeating her low ball offer, "San shi kuai" (30 yuan), in the face of the outrageous price the vendor first quoted "Yi bai ba shi kuai" (180 yuan). When the vendor said "I'll give you the Chinese price because you speak Chinese" and lowered the price to 160 yuan, she'd say "San shi kuai." To "Come on, give a little," she'd smile and say "San shi yi kuai" (31 yuan). As she walked away with her purchases, some vendors complained to each other in Chinese about the hard bargains she drove.
Isabel did some great bargaining at the wall too. With her good knowledge of numbers and bargainig strategy, she got presents for several friends.
I'll try and get some pictures up soon.
Tiananmen Square and Mao's Mausoleum, Beijing
A hundred thousand people wait in a creeping line every day to see Mao's formaldehyde-preserved body in the immense mausoleum on the edge of Tiananmen Square. That hundred thousand included Stirling, Sofia, Jacek and Isabel on Saturday, October 19th. I'm glad they all had the cultural experience, but I stayed outside, in part to carry prohibited backpacks and cameras and facilitate their entry, more because I don't want to participate in any sort of veneration of Mao. My staying outside counts nothing against the destruction and incomprehensible death and fear that Mao inflicted on China, nothing for anyone but me.
Wangfujing Street Night Market, Beijing
Wangfujing Street beckons in the dark. Vendors tempt hungry passers-by with skewers of everything imaginable on sticks. I ate bee cocoon and ostrich. I did not eat scorpion, silkwork larvae, starfish, seahorses, kidney, dog or sheep's penis.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Electronic Swindle
We've had very limited internet access and problems with the VPN, hence the lack of recent posts.
_____________________________
On Wednesday evening, Stirling went to the ATM, the ATM that has served us so well. It is close to our apartment, only across the canal and two blocks down. It operates 24-7. It allows a maximum withdrawal of 3000 yuan ($440) which makes the $5 service charge per transaction our bank imposes a little less painful than for ATMs with a 1000 yuan limit. This time, however, our convenient little ATM balked. It took the card, took the PIN, smiled broadly, shuffled some money, and shut down. Stirling tried several other machines and they also refused to cooperate. Thursday morning, however, our bank account showed a $440 withdrawal executed at 6:12 am Utah time/8:12 pm Shenzhen time on October 7. We were robbed.
At the university, I printed out the bank record showing the debit to our account and asked, Cheryl, one of the law school employees, for help. She called the bank, then said “Let’s go” as she hopped into her car. Her confident manner and the fact that she actually spoke with someone, inspired hope for a quick resolution. I naively expected to walk into the branch office right next door to the ATM and, presto, chango, $3000 yuan in my pocket. ‘Twas not to be. Whoever she spoke to, it wasn’t at the branch office. On arrival, we learned that the branch office was still closed because it was the last day of the National Holiday (Holiweek really) that began with National Day on October 1, continued through the Mid-Autumn Festival on October 3, and extended to October 8 for good measure and travel time. It opened again on Friday, October 9, but we were already supposed to be on our way to Gaungzhou (formerly Canton) and wouldn’t be back until late Saturday. On a second phone call, the bank said it didn’t matter when we made the complaint. We could show up on Sunday or Monday with our passport and receipt and fill out a complaint form. I reminded Cheryl we didn’t have a receipt because the machine shut down. She smiled so innocently and said the bank would check its records, consider the matter for a few days, and “if it was real,” maybe give us the missing money. We are supposed to meet Cheryl at the ATM branch office Monday morning at 9:00 am.
At least we were robbed in a culturally appropriate way. Shenzhen was the first special economic zone in China in the 1980s. Nobody is going to stick us up on the street, but an electronic swindle fits right in with the high flying business zone.
Post Datum:
Stirling sent an email to our bank in the US which immediately filed an international fraud complaint. They said our account would be credited within 48 hours. We didn't go with Cheryl to the branch office because the US bank seemed to be handling the situation well. But, we're still waiting for the credit to our account.
_____________________________
On Wednesday evening, Stirling went to the ATM, the ATM that has served us so well. It is close to our apartment, only across the canal and two blocks down. It operates 24-7. It allows a maximum withdrawal of 3000 yuan ($440) which makes the $5 service charge per transaction our bank imposes a little less painful than for ATMs with a 1000 yuan limit. This time, however, our convenient little ATM balked. It took the card, took the PIN, smiled broadly, shuffled some money, and shut down. Stirling tried several other machines and they also refused to cooperate. Thursday morning, however, our bank account showed a $440 withdrawal executed at 6:12 am Utah time/8:12 pm Shenzhen time on October 7. We were robbed.
At the university, I printed out the bank record showing the debit to our account and asked, Cheryl, one of the law school employees, for help. She called the bank, then said “Let’s go” as she hopped into her car. Her confident manner and the fact that she actually spoke with someone, inspired hope for a quick resolution. I naively expected to walk into the branch office right next door to the ATM and, presto, chango, $3000 yuan in my pocket. ‘Twas not to be. Whoever she spoke to, it wasn’t at the branch office. On arrival, we learned that the branch office was still closed because it was the last day of the National Holiday (Holiweek really) that began with National Day on October 1, continued through the Mid-Autumn Festival on October 3, and extended to October 8 for good measure and travel time. It opened again on Friday, October 9, but we were already supposed to be on our way to Gaungzhou (formerly Canton) and wouldn’t be back until late Saturday. On a second phone call, the bank said it didn’t matter when we made the complaint. We could show up on Sunday or Monday with our passport and receipt and fill out a complaint form. I reminded Cheryl we didn’t have a receipt because the machine shut down. She smiled so innocently and said the bank would check its records, consider the matter for a few days, and “if it was real,” maybe give us the missing money. We are supposed to meet Cheryl at the ATM branch office Monday morning at 9:00 am.
At least we were robbed in a culturally appropriate way. Shenzhen was the first special economic zone in China in the 1980s. Nobody is going to stick us up on the street, but an electronic swindle fits right in with the high flying business zone.
Post Datum:
Stirling sent an email to our bank in the US which immediately filed an international fraud complaint. They said our account would be credited within 48 hours. We didn't go with Cheryl to the branch office because the US bank seemed to be handling the situation well. But, we're still waiting for the credit to our account.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Mercedes Sosa, 1935 -2009
Mercedes Sosa, one of our very most favorite Latin American singers, died today in Buenos Aires. Stirling and I both saw her live in different concerts in Buenos Aires in 2003. She had a magnificent presence and stunning voice.
Every Christmas (and other times too), we listen to "La navidad de Luis" which she sang with Leon Gieco. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNygMUZdmpk . I've copied the Spanish lyrics below and translated them into English.
Every Christmas (and other times too), we listen to "La navidad de Luis" which she sang with Leon Gieco. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNygMUZdmpk . I've copied the Spanish lyrics below and translated them into English.
La Navidad de Luis
Toma Luis, mañana es Navidad.
un pan dulce y un poco de vino,
ya que no puedes comprar.
Toma Luis, llévalo a tu casa
y podrás junto con tu padre
la Navidad festejar.
Mañana no vengas a trabajar,
que el pueblo estará de fiesta
y no habrá tristezas...
Señora, gracias por lo que me da,
pero yo no puedo esto llevar
porque mi vida no es de Navidad.
Señora, ¿cree que mi pobreza
llegará al final comiendo pan
el día de Navidad?
ya que no puedes comprar.
Toma Luis, llévalo a tu casa
y podrás junto con tu padre
la Navidad festejar.
Mañana no vengas a trabajar,
que el pueblo estará de fiesta
y no habrá tristezas...
Señora, gracias por lo que me da,
pero yo no puedo esto llevar
porque mi vida no es de Navidad.
Señora, ¿cree que mi pobreza
llegará al final comiendo pan
el día de Navidad?
Mi padre me dará algo mejor,
me dirá que Jesús es como yo,
y entonces así podré seguir...
Viviendo,
viviendo,
viviendo,
viviendo,
viviendo,
viviendo,
viviendo,
viviendo,
viviendo.
Luis's Christmas
Here, Luis, tomorrow is Christmas
Some sweet bread and a little wine,
Things you can't afford to buy.
Here Luis, take it home
At home with your father
You can celebrate Christmas.
Tomorrow, don't come to work
The entire village will celebrate
There won't be any sadness . . .
Ma'am, thank you for your gift
but I can't accept it
because my life is not like Christmas.
Ma'am, do you believe that my poverty
will come to an end simply by eating bread
on Christmas Day?
My father gives me something better
He tells me that Jesus is like me
And so, I can keep on
Living,
living,
living,
living,
living,
living,
living.
Dish Detergent
My last bottle of dish detergent smelled like ginger, the current one like kumquat. It doesn't foam much or cut through the peanut and sesame oils that cling stubbornly to plastic bowls, but the smells sure are fun.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Mid-Autumn Festival and National Day
Isabel told me last night that she wants to live in Macau. I reminded her that after we visited Costa Rica, she wanted to live there too. She said "I'll live three years in Macau, then three years in Costa Rica, and switch back and forth."
More than half a billion Chinese were on the road for the Mid-Autumn Festival which is today. Most traveled before Chinese National Day on October 1st. The official holiday goes from October 1st through October 8th. Did you see any of the parade in Beijing? The best part was the all female militia unit in red mini-skirts, white boots, white berets, white gloves and black SUBMACHINE GUNS.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Breakable Bones
After being in China for four weeks, the people in Macau struck me as a sturdy lot, certainly far sturdier than the many people in Shenzhen whose frames are so slight they could easily break. Their ancestors’ near starvation for hundreds of years etched famine in their descendants’ bones. Shenzhen is a city of migrants; nearly everyone is from someplace else. Even that genetic mix combined with Shenzhen’s status as a special economic zone for the past thirty years and second richest city in China hasn’t fattened up the general population.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Macau
Blogs are not blocked in Macau! I have quick, easy access without a VPN that disconnects irrationally. Yea.
After the kids had Chinese class this morning, we took the 1:30 ferry from Shekou Port in Shenzhen to Macau. Our hotel is called Pousada de Mong Ha. It's about half way up a hill towards the Fortress of Mong Ha which was built in anticipation of a Chinese invasion after the Anglo-Chinese War in 1841. The Pousada is run by the Institute for Tourism Studies which trains students in the tourism industry. All the students eagerly help. We ate dinner tonight in the Educational Restaurant. Sofia was a little nervous for the students when the teachers kept intervening to make sure they placed the napkins just so on our laps, and served the water just right, and cleared away the silverware that we wouldn't use for our particular dishes.
The food at the Educational Restaurant was excellent: homemade fettucine with truffles and parmesan (guess who got that?); African chicken with courgettes; roasted quail; bacalhao with potatoes and cream, a Portuguese dish made from dried cod fish; and baked sole. The good food almost made up for Jacek's three strikes last night at a western restaurant on campus in Shenzhen. He's going to blog about that, but suffice it to say that, in his words, his meat "tasted like sandpaper with disinfectant." I tried it too. Bad. Very, very bad. Inedible.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, however, could taste as bad as the poison candy our neighbor gave Sofia on Monday at Lakefront Fairyland's celebration of the 60th anniversary of the founding of the Chinese Republic and the mid-autumn festival all rolled into one. (Lakefront Fairyland is the name of our apartment complex.) Sofia warned Stirling the candy was bad, but he tasted it anyway. Then I did. We didn't vomit, but I wanted too. Rat poison could not be worse. Just now, in a neighborhood market here in Macau, we saw some candy wrappers with the same fruit on them. Do not ever eat durian fruit candy. Not even to save your life. Jon Winokur in a travel book described the odor of durian fruit -- and I would add taste -- as “pig-@*%#, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock." The Oxford Companion to Food analogizes the smell to "civet, sewage, stale vomit, skunk spray and used surgical swabs." Just think, they make a candy out of that.
After the kids had Chinese class this morning, we took the 1:30 ferry from Shekou Port in Shenzhen to Macau. Our hotel is called Pousada de Mong Ha. It's about half way up a hill towards the Fortress of Mong Ha which was built in anticipation of a Chinese invasion after the Anglo-Chinese War in 1841. The Pousada is run by the Institute for Tourism Studies which trains students in the tourism industry. All the students eagerly help. We ate dinner tonight in the Educational Restaurant. Sofia was a little nervous for the students when the teachers kept intervening to make sure they placed the napkins just so on our laps, and served the water just right, and cleared away the silverware that we wouldn't use for our particular dishes.
The food at the Educational Restaurant was excellent: homemade fettucine with truffles and parmesan (guess who got that?); African chicken with courgettes; roasted quail; bacalhao with potatoes and cream, a Portuguese dish made from dried cod fish; and baked sole. The good food almost made up for Jacek's three strikes last night at a western restaurant on campus in Shenzhen. He's going to blog about that, but suffice it to say that, in his words, his meat "tasted like sandpaper with disinfectant." I tried it too. Bad. Very, very bad. Inedible.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, however, could taste as bad as the poison candy our neighbor gave Sofia on Monday at Lakefront Fairyland's celebration of the 60th anniversary of the founding of the Chinese Republic and the mid-autumn festival all rolled into one. (Lakefront Fairyland is the name of our apartment complex.) Sofia warned Stirling the candy was bad, but he tasted it anyway. Then I did. We didn't vomit, but I wanted too. Rat poison could not be worse. Just now, in a neighborhood market here in Macau, we saw some candy wrappers with the same fruit on them. Do not ever eat durian fruit candy. Not even to save your life. Jon Winokur in a travel book described the odor of durian fruit -- and I would add taste -- as “pig-@*%#, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock." The Oxford Companion to Food analogizes the smell to "civet, sewage, stale vomit, skunk spray and used surgical swabs." Just think, they make a candy out of that.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Yes Pork, No Box
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I don’t have access to the blog or email tonight.
Isabel and I needed our Chinese-speaking family members today at lunch. She had Chinese class today on campus, but Sofia and Jacek stayed at the apartment to do other homework because their Chinese teacher had a family wedding to attend. Isabel and I made it to our regular eating spot, the dirt cheap second floor cafeteria, just a few minutes after it closed at 1:00. We went instead to a new Hong Kong style café just down the row. The food was good, but there were complications. I tried to order the baked rice with eggplant and pork but without the pork. The menu was in Chinese and English and the waiter nodded and smiled when I pointed to what I wanted and said “but no pork” several times. It arrived with a pork sauce on top. I had hoped for a successful vegetarian dish so I could let Sofia know about it, but no go.
Isabel ordered a delicious plate of spaghetti with meat sauce. She loved it, but it was too big to eat all at once. We called the waiter over and pantomimed putting the rest of her beloved spaghetti in a box for us to take home. He smiled and nodded again and took the plate to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he sent the bus girl over to clean up the table. We waited. He stood watching us then went back to the kitchen. We waited. Finally, I said to Isabel, “Let’s go check.” He was standing at the front counter. We pantomimed again putting the beloved spaghetti into a box. He glanced at the kitchen, back at us, then strode back into the kitchen again. When he came out, he just stood there staring at us. Taking a deep breath, he said something in Chinese to another waiter who pantomimed the disposal of the beloved spaghetti into the garbage can. Oh well. Maybe next time we’ll learn to say “box.” I wouldn’t dare try to say “doggy bag.” Who knows what that would get us.
I don’t have access to the blog or email tonight.
Isabel and I needed our Chinese-speaking family members today at lunch. She had Chinese class today on campus, but Sofia and Jacek stayed at the apartment to do other homework because their Chinese teacher had a family wedding to attend. Isabel and I made it to our regular eating spot, the dirt cheap second floor cafeteria, just a few minutes after it closed at 1:00. We went instead to a new Hong Kong style café just down the row. The food was good, but there were complications. I tried to order the baked rice with eggplant and pork but without the pork. The menu was in Chinese and English and the waiter nodded and smiled when I pointed to what I wanted and said “but no pork” several times. It arrived with a pork sauce on top. I had hoped for a successful vegetarian dish so I could let Sofia know about it, but no go.
Isabel ordered a delicious plate of spaghetti with meat sauce. She loved it, but it was too big to eat all at once. We called the waiter over and pantomimed putting the rest of her beloved spaghetti in a box for us to take home. He smiled and nodded again and took the plate to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he sent the bus girl over to clean up the table. We waited. He stood watching us then went back to the kitchen. We waited. Finally, I said to Isabel, “Let’s go check.” He was standing at the front counter. We pantomimed again putting the beloved spaghetti into a box. He glanced at the kitchen, back at us, then strode back into the kitchen again. When he came out, he just stood there staring at us. Taking a deep breath, he said something in Chinese to another waiter who pantomimed the disposal of the beloved spaghetti into the garbage can. Oh well. Maybe next time we’ll learn to say “box.” I wouldn’t dare try to say “doggy bag.” Who knows what that would get us.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Jacek at the Mid-Autumn Festival Party
Jacek recited a poem about the Mid-Autumn Festival (October 3) at the School of Transnational Law's party on Wednesday evening.
DaFen Oil Painting Village
Yesterday, we went to Dafen Village, which isn't separate from Shenzhen but its own little enclave towards the western side of the city. Dafen is an oil painting village. Shop after shop after shop sells oil paintings, many of which are copies of famous paintings such as the Mona Lisa, others are of andscapes, and many are paintings of famous people like Alan Greenspan, Marilyn Monroe, Penelope Cruz, Che Guevara, and Barack Obama. A few shops sold what I would call "original art" rather than copied art or copied styles. Occasional shops sold paintings done in acrylics or silk embroidery or cloissone or water colors. The further away from the main entrance, the smaller the streets and the shops got. Some turned to selling the raw materials for painting or framing or stretching canvases on wooden frames. Sofia found an ity bitty funky clothes store and bargained her way into a pair of red flowered pants (wait until you see them!) and some knee-length puffy pants.
We arranged for a driver from the University to take us to church today. It took 45 minutes to get to church and 20 minutes to get home. Thats a little more than an hour of travel rather than our usual three plus hours. Whatever it cost, it was worth every penny to enjoy a quieter more relaxed Sunday.
I'm an excellent horse and a fine climbing tree. I substituted in nursery which helped me feel right at home as that is my home ward calling. Ten kids rode my back, climbed my legs, poured water back and forth between their cups and smashed play dough for a fun two hours.
We arranged for a driver from the University to take us to church today. It took 45 minutes to get to church and 20 minutes to get home. Thats a little more than an hour of travel rather than our usual three plus hours. Whatever it cost, it was worth every penny to enjoy a quieter more relaxed Sunday.
I'm an excellent horse and a fine climbing tree. I substituted in nursery which helped me feel right at home as that is my home ward calling. Ten kids rode my back, climbed my legs, poured water back and forth between their cups and smashed play dough for a fun two hours.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Chinese Bar Exam
Many of my students took the Chinese national bar exam last weekend. In my discussions with them, I've explained that in the US you can only take the bar exam after finishing law school. Plus, each state has its own bar examination which means that if you move from one jurisdiction to another or want to practice in a neighboring state, usually you have to take another bar exam. I didn't go into the intricacies of waiving into a bar or taking an attorney's bar exam. Our system of federalism isn't the Chinese way.
Students attribute their expected results on the Chinese bar exam to work. One student said to me "I don't think I'll pass. I didn't work hard enough in July." In the US, it seems more likely that a student would attribute failure to not being smart enough or the instrinsic difficulty of the test, rather than work and effort. Another student took the exam for the third time.
Students attribute their expected results on the Chinese bar exam to work. One student said to me "I don't think I'll pass. I didn't work hard enough in July." In the US, it seems more likely that a student would attribute failure to not being smart enough or the instrinsic difficulty of the test, rather than work and effort. Another student took the exam for the third time.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Day Two of Comparative Constitutional Law
Today was Day Two of my class at Peking University School of Transnational Law. Fifty-four students are in their second year, all of them in my comparative constitutional law class. We meet for two hours at a time on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday mornings. Six students didn’t show up either Monday or today. When they were missing on Monday, I figured they were just exhausted from taking the Chinese bar exam over the weekend. Today, I began to wonder. The other students in the class said the missing ones were “on their way.” Who knows what that means.
I butcher my students’ Chinese names. Many of them have also chosen English names, but some understandably have a strong preference for their Chinese names. Today, I tried and tried to get one woman’s Chinese name right. Finally, she grimaced and said “Professor, you may call me Yvonne.” Sometime between signing up for law school and my class, one woman changed her English name from Ingrid to Sophia. When I called on her, she was absolutely superb: well prepared, well spoken in English, able to argue.
I butcher my students’ Chinese names. Many of them have also chosen English names, but some understandably have a strong preference for their Chinese names. Today, I tried and tried to get one woman’s Chinese name right. Finally, she grimaced and said “Professor, you may call me Yvonne.” Sometime between signing up for law school and my class, one woman changed her English name from Ingrid to Sophia. When I called on her, she was absolutely superb: well prepared, well spoken in English, able to argue.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Police Interviews
My police station interviews were entirely anticlimactic. Two twenty-year old Nanshan District police women with very chic hair cuts sat in a tiny office, reviewed my documents, and stamped them red. After we drove 40 minutes and a guard shone an infrared thermometer at my forehead, a Shenzhen City police officer did the same. Then I was done. Nobody asked me any questions. Nobody poked and prodded me. I must have passed the body check. A week from now I get my passport back and, having a Z work visa for a year, I am eligible to get paid.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Pedestrians
Cross the street at your own peril. Pedestrians do not have the right of way, even if they are already in the cross walk, even if the stop light is red and the walk sign is green, even if they are small children. Luckily, in Xili Town, our section of Nanshan District in the city of Shenzhen, the traffic is quite light so we don't wait too long to cross the street. Still, I grab Isabel's hand and we scurry across as quickly as we can.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
54 Characters and Around the World in Three Hours
In Chinese class this morning, Isabel and I counted 54 characters that we know. Well, we know that we have learned them even if we can’t always remember exactly what they mean when taken out of the original context. We know months of the year and days of the week. We know numbers, which help us know months of the year and days of the week. Chinese months are first month, second month, third month, etc. Days of the week go from first day on Monday to sixth day on Saturday, with Sunday labeled with a word (ri or tian) other than a counting word. Hào means number. Hăo means good.
Jacek, Isabel and I traveled around the world in three hours. We ventured from Egypt to Cambodia to Africa to Thailand to the Alps to Niagra Falls at Window of the World. I’m not much of one for theme parks, but I did my motherly duty and took them. They loved it. The indoor skiing and snowboarding building struck me as the most bizarre. They rent “keeping warm clothes” for $1.50. It costs $12 an hour to snowboard or ski down this little icy hill enclosed in concrete. Jacek begged to do it. How could I let him ski in subtropical China when he comes from a state that declares it has the Best Snow on Earth? He’s convinced Stirling will let him when he goes back. My glasses fogged up when we stepped back out into the real world.
I restrained myself from posting about the Safari Park adventure because I thought the kids would write “I fed chicken to an adult tiger! I held a tiger cub! I have the pictures to prove it!”
Jacek, Isabel and I traveled around the world in three hours. We ventured from Egypt to Cambodia to Africa to Thailand to the Alps to Niagra Falls at Window of the World. I’m not much of one for theme parks, but I did my motherly duty and took them. They loved it. The indoor skiing and snowboarding building struck me as the most bizarre. They rent “keeping warm clothes” for $1.50. It costs $12 an hour to snowboard or ski down this little icy hill enclosed in concrete. Jacek begged to do it. How could I let him ski in subtropical China when he comes from a state that declares it has the Best Snow on Earth? He’s convinced Stirling will let him when he goes back. My glasses fogged up when we stepped back out into the real world.
I restrained myself from posting about the Safari Park adventure because I thought the kids would write “I fed chicken to an adult tiger! I held a tiger cub! I have the pictures to prove it!”
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
No Hospital and Typhoon Koppu
Stirling is feeling much, much better. His fever broke shortly before I posted last night and stayed down through the night. He’s still weak from not eating, but things continue to look up. No hospital was the right answer.
The remnants of Typhoon Koppu delivered the buckets of rain that flooded our streets last night. Sofia, Jacek and Isabel danced outside in the still pouring rain this afternoon. The wind tore signs off of buildings and kept many of my colleagues at the law school awake during the night as it crashed through their windows that don’t quite close all the way. The Hong Kong stock market cancelled trading this morning.
The remnants of Typhoon Koppu delivered the buckets of rain that flooded our streets last night. Sofia, Jacek and Isabel danced outside in the still pouring rain this afternoon. The wind tore signs off of buildings and kept many of my colleagues at the law school awake during the night as it crashed through their windows that don’t quite close all the way. The Hong Kong stock market cancelled trading this morning.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Hospital or Not?
Stirling had a fever of 101.5 yesterday evening, the shakes, body aches, head ache, exhaustion. Cold showers and Aleve helped bring his temperature down over night, but this afternoon it was 102 again. Add to the earlier symptoms, cramps and all that goes with a stomach bug, and I started to get worried. He thought he had heat exhaustion because he had been out and about walking around in the heat and humidity yesterday. I figured that heat exhaustion wouldn't go on for so long, and if it did, he needed to go see a doctor.
One ex-patriate I called for advice, someone who has lived in China for decades, said that he would consider going to a Chinese hospital, if and only if, he were bleeding to death, and then only maybe. In all other circumstances, he would go to Hong Kong, even though he and his family live three hours from the border. He is married to a Chinese woman whose parents were both doctors. Their stories convinced him that the chance of something going seriously wrong were just too high, although it was likely one would get adequate care. He'd helicopter his two-year old daughter to Hong Kong before setting foot in a Chinese hospital. He recommended that, if we couldn't get Stirling's temperature down, we hire a car to drive from our apartment straight to Adventus Hospital in Hong Kong. At the border, Stirling wouldn't have to walk; he could just cower in the back of the car strung out on fever reducers to make it past the temperature check. He thought the private car service would cost about $100 and excellent health care in Hong Kong a couple of hundred more, even if Stirling had to spend the night. The big catch though is that my permanent visa hasn't come through yet, so I'd either have to send Stirling alone or with Sofia as they both have multiple entry visas. I don't. And, our cell phone probably wouldn't work in Hong Kong because it doesn't have an international sim. And, he might not make it past the temperature check. And, there is a typhoon dumping buckets of rain and flooding the streets.
Another ex -pat that I talked to, thought the Hong Kong idea was overkill. He figured there were good hospitals in Shenzhen, places where foreigners regularly went, where they were even willing to have babies, but he and the other ex-pat in the room didn't know what hospital that would be. They gave me the phone number of Liya Rong, a native Chinese woman who has lived for nearly twenty years in the United States, but is now in Shenzhen to be the assistant dean at the School of Transnational Law. She recommended Beijing University Hospital where she took her daughter last week because she had a cold. That is where she herself goes as well.
The good news is Stirling's temperature has dropped down to 98.6 degrees. He was able to eat a banana and keep down the Sprite I gave him. He looks extra skinny, having not eaten anything in the past twenty-four hours. I think, I hope, I pray his temperature has broken permanently. And that the rest of us don't get whatever it is. And that the typhoon passes before we do.
One ex-patriate I called for advice, someone who has lived in China for decades, said that he would consider going to a Chinese hospital, if and only if, he were bleeding to death, and then only maybe. In all other circumstances, he would go to Hong Kong, even though he and his family live three hours from the border. He is married to a Chinese woman whose parents were both doctors. Their stories convinced him that the chance of something going seriously wrong were just too high, although it was likely one would get adequate care. He'd helicopter his two-year old daughter to Hong Kong before setting foot in a Chinese hospital. He recommended that, if we couldn't get Stirling's temperature down, we hire a car to drive from our apartment straight to Adventus Hospital in Hong Kong. At the border, Stirling wouldn't have to walk; he could just cower in the back of the car strung out on fever reducers to make it past the temperature check. He thought the private car service would cost about $100 and excellent health care in Hong Kong a couple of hundred more, even if Stirling had to spend the night. The big catch though is that my permanent visa hasn't come through yet, so I'd either have to send Stirling alone or with Sofia as they both have multiple entry visas. I don't. And, our cell phone probably wouldn't work in Hong Kong because it doesn't have an international sim. And, he might not make it past the temperature check. And, there is a typhoon dumping buckets of rain and flooding the streets.
Another ex -pat that I talked to, thought the Hong Kong idea was overkill. He figured there were good hospitals in Shenzhen, places where foreigners regularly went, where they were even willing to have babies, but he and the other ex-pat in the room didn't know what hospital that would be. They gave me the phone number of Liya Rong, a native Chinese woman who has lived for nearly twenty years in the United States, but is now in Shenzhen to be the assistant dean at the School of Transnational Law. She recommended Beijing University Hospital where she took her daughter last week because she had a cold. That is where she herself goes as well.
The good news is Stirling's temperature has dropped down to 98.6 degrees. He was able to eat a banana and keep down the Sprite I gave him. He looks extra skinny, having not eaten anything in the past twenty-four hours. I think, I hope, I pray his temperature has broken permanently. And that the rest of us don't get whatever it is. And that the typhoon passes before we do.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Shoes
September 13, 2009
Chinese don't wear shoes inside homes. At church, which is held in a home, everyone takes off their shoes at the door and puts them in shoe racks or piles them on the floor. So far, we've all come away with our own shoes, but I can imagine finding more attractive shoes than my own. There is a degree of informality, almost levity, in everyone padding around in bare feet or just socks at church. Sofia would prefer the world without shoes, so going barefoot at church is a nice perk. When the fix-it men came tonight to unclog one of our bathroom drains, they hesitated at the door and asked about their shoes. Given the job to be done, shoes were in order, but it took Jacek several tries to convince them that crossing the threshold clad would not incur our wrath.
Chinese don't wear shoes inside homes. At church, which is held in a home, everyone takes off their shoes at the door and puts them in shoe racks or piles them on the floor. So far, we've all come away with our own shoes, but I can imagine finding more attractive shoes than my own. There is a degree of informality, almost levity, in everyone padding around in bare feet or just socks at church. Sofia would prefer the world without shoes, so going barefoot at church is a nice perk. When the fix-it men came tonight to unclog one of our bathroom drains, they hesitated at the door and asked about their shoes. Given the job to be done, shoes were in order, but it took Jacek several tries to convince them that crossing the threshold clad would not incur our wrath.
Saturday in Shenzhen
September 12, 2009
Isabel successfully posted to her blog today about the trip to the Safari Park. She'll likely add pictures tomorrow, but it is worth reading today. She requests that you please start with Shenzhen Safari Park: Part One then move to Part Two.
We just got back from the Dongmen Market. It matched our low price expectations much better than last week's venture. Sofia got a t-shirt with Pleasant Goat on it for $2.00. Pleasant Goat, Beautiful Goat, and a bunch of other goats try to outwit Big, Big Wolf in a popular Chinese cartoon series. Isabel got a tiered peasant skirt for $3.50. At one store, the girls got six items -- three shirts and three pants/culottes -- for $30 or about $5.00 each. I was still too broad in the shoulders for the items I tried on. Jacek bought a couple of magic boxes and that was it. Stirling searched for baseball caps but didn't find anything.
We invited our neighbors to go with us. Mei, the wife, did. She speaks quite good English. I learned that both she and her husband are from Hubei Province. They graduated from the same school and both teach at the Polytecnic University. She teaches electronics, but laughed when Stirling asked if she was an engineer. We ate really, really bad, bad, very bad Chinese food from a street vendor. She went to McDonalds.
Isabel successfully posted to her blog today about the trip to the Safari Park. She'll likely add pictures tomorrow, but it is worth reading today. She requests that you please start with Shenzhen Safari Park: Part One then move to Part Two.
We just got back from the Dongmen Market. It matched our low price expectations much better than last week's venture. Sofia got a t-shirt with Pleasant Goat on it for $2.00. Pleasant Goat, Beautiful Goat, and a bunch of other goats try to outwit Big, Big Wolf in a popular Chinese cartoon series. Isabel got a tiered peasant skirt for $3.50. At one store, the girls got six items -- three shirts and three pants/culottes -- for $30 or about $5.00 each. I was still too broad in the shoulders for the items I tried on. Jacek bought a couple of magic boxes and that was it. Stirling searched for baseball caps but didn't find anything.
We invited our neighbors to go with us. Mei, the wife, did. She speaks quite good English. I learned that both she and her husband are from Hubei Province. They graduated from the same school and both teach at the Polytecnic University. She teaches electronics, but laughed when Stirling asked if she was an engineer. We ate really, really bad, bad, very bad Chinese food from a street vendor. She went to McDonalds.
Week Annivesary in Shenzhen
September 11, 2009
Three purple velvet couches beckoned to us from inside the plate glass windows of Ping coffee. "Jacek," they smiled, "Come eat steak, medium rare." "Isabel, have some crinkle fries with ketchup," and winking they confirmed to her delight "Yes, we have ketchup." "Sofia, how about fish and cut fruit in a fanciful design? We'll even sit still for a picture, and look more blue than purple." "Kif, corn chowder with chicken?" "Stirling, escargot? A Western-style restaurant offers adventure, too." The three purple velvet couches celebrated our week anniversary in Shenzhen with us, down the street and across the canal from our apartment, an apartment with three small wooden stools but no couch and no velvet.
What are the chances that, the day after we set up the VPN, the electricity would go out and government workers would arrive on the 14th floor, our floor, to fix it? It seemed suspicious to me. Stirling, less paranoid than I, wondered why the government would care about us. Because we are accessing blogs that are on blocked servers? Because we are the only foreigners in our complex? Because a friend who lived in Beijing for several years figured every building in their complex was bugged? After dinner tonight, I asked our neighbor how often the power goes out. He said not very often, but that the breaker box on the floor needed replacing to help improve the air conditioning and circulation. I'm going with that explanation, especially since we still have blog access.
Three purple velvet couches beckoned to us from inside the plate glass windows of Ping coffee. "Jacek," they smiled, "Come eat steak, medium rare." "Isabel, have some crinkle fries with ketchup," and winking they confirmed to her delight "Yes, we have ketchup." "Sofia, how about fish and cut fruit in a fanciful design? We'll even sit still for a picture, and look more blue than purple." "Kif, corn chowder with chicken?" "Stirling, escargot? A Western-style restaurant offers adventure, too." The three purple velvet couches celebrated our week anniversary in Shenzhen with us, down the street and across the canal from our apartment, an apartment with three small wooden stools but no couch and no velvet.
What are the chances that, the day after we set up the VPN, the electricity would go out and government workers would arrive on the 14th floor, our floor, to fix it? It seemed suspicious to me. Stirling, less paranoid than I, wondered why the government would care about us. Because we are accessing blogs that are on blocked servers? Because we are the only foreigners in our complex? Because a friend who lived in Beijing for several years figured every building in their complex was bugged? After dinner tonight, I asked our neighbor how often the power goes out. He said not very often, but that the breaker box on the floor needed replacing to help improve the air conditioning and circulation. I'm going with that explanation, especially since we still have blog access.
Hope for the Blogs
September 10, 2009
The technical term for hope is VPN -- virtual private network. Some of the teaching fellows here told us about the VPN they use as a way around the Chinese government's block on certain websites including blogs, Facebook, Youtube, and the like. The VPN is a little complicated, but Stirling subscribed to a service online and got it set up on our computers tonight. This means that you will soon be able to hear directly from Sofia, Jacek and Isabel about the tiger cub. It was real. Because you are reading this, you know that the VPN has worked. I have taken what I would have posted on my blog day by day and put it up all at once.
The technical term for hope is VPN -- virtual private network. Some of the teaching fellows here told us about the VPN they use as a way around the Chinese government's block on certain websites including blogs, Facebook, Youtube, and the like. The VPN is a little complicated, but Stirling subscribed to a service online and got it set up on our computers tonight. This means that you will soon be able to hear directly from Sofia, Jacek and Isabel about the tiger cub. It was real. Because you are reading this, you know that the VPN has worked. I have taken what I would have posted on my blog day by day and put it up all at once.
Body Check
September 9, 2009
There is no ice hockey here (what a surprise!) but I did have a "body check" yesterday. That's what Yvonne, one of the law school office staff, kept calling my health examination. In order to finalize my work permit visa, and hence to get paid, I had to get the standard health check-up required of all foreigners who want some sort of permanent/semi-permanent residence. Chinese who have been abroad for more than three months also have to get the checks. It's a fascinating idea. The exams are meant to help control disease and encourage healthiness, but in a country this large and with this many people and with many, many people coming and going across international borders, it seems a futile attempt at control and governance.
Yvonne took me about half an hour by car to a hospital specially designated to do such checks for foreigners, but first we stopped at a small photo shop to get my picture taken. Small passport sized photos are required for all sorts of documents, including the body check. I filled out a form with my name, passport number, and checked no to all sorts of diseases: tuberculosis, psychosis, diarrhea in the past week, cough, cold, sniffles, surgery, pregnancy, tumors, HIV, heart disease, and on and on. The registration nurse stamped my form, webcammed my face, scanned my right thumb, and pasted a bar code on my form and a small cup. Then, the fun began.
I, and the hundreds of others like me at the hospital yesterday, went to nine different stations and got some part of our bodies checked. It was all remarkably efficient despite the masses. First, the most competent phlebotomist I have ever encountered drew my blood into two vials. I hardly felt the needle prick. Second, a doctor barked at me to take off my shoes and stand on a cool machine that measured height and weight remotely. Third and fourth, a diffident doctor swabbed my throat, pulled on my ears and peered in, and stuck a little plastic tool, newly removed from its package, up my nostrils, right after another doctor let me keep on my glasses for the eye exam. Fifth, the ultrasound doctor ran a wand over my abdomen and pronounced me okay - no tumors today. Sixth, a technician took a chest xray or at least it seemed like he did. There is some debate among my colleagues about whether that part of the check is real. Seventh, a harried doctor made me lie down and pull up my shirt for an EKG. Higher, she said, higher. Yikes. She stapled the EKG print out to my form. Eighth, in a ladies' room with only Chinese toilets, I peed in the bar coded cup and left it on a cart in the hallway along with tens of other samples. Ninth, a dentist took a quick look inside my mouth in a room that smelled like every other dentist's office I've ever been in. Somewhere along the line, someone took my temperature as well.
In seven work days, I'll learn if I passed the body check. Then I get to go to the police station for an interview.
The following "Body Check Plus" is not for the faint of heart. If you are sqeamish or embarassable or shy or work with me professionally, please stop here.
I have never given a urine sample on a Chinese toilet before. Please google Chinese toilet or porcelain hole in the ground. Hence, I peed all over my hand. There was no toilet paper. The sinks had upside down buckets in them with signs - and exclamation points. I don't know what the signs said, but I got the message when I turned the faucets and no water came out. I eyed the sink longingly in the dentist's office. I was finally able to rinse my hand off over a garbage can by the water cooler in the reception area while Yvonne and I waited for another colleague to finish his body check. I didn't explain to her what I was doing. She didn't ask.
There is no ice hockey here (what a surprise!) but I did have a "body check" yesterday. That's what Yvonne, one of the law school office staff, kept calling my health examination. In order to finalize my work permit visa, and hence to get paid, I had to get the standard health check-up required of all foreigners who want some sort of permanent/semi-permanent residence. Chinese who have been abroad for more than three months also have to get the checks. It's a fascinating idea. The exams are meant to help control disease and encourage healthiness, but in a country this large and with this many people and with many, many people coming and going across international borders, it seems a futile attempt at control and governance.
Yvonne took me about half an hour by car to a hospital specially designated to do such checks for foreigners, but first we stopped at a small photo shop to get my picture taken. Small passport sized photos are required for all sorts of documents, including the body check. I filled out a form with my name, passport number, and checked no to all sorts of diseases: tuberculosis, psychosis, diarrhea in the past week, cough, cold, sniffles, surgery, pregnancy, tumors, HIV, heart disease, and on and on. The registration nurse stamped my form, webcammed my face, scanned my right thumb, and pasted a bar code on my form and a small cup. Then, the fun began.
I, and the hundreds of others like me at the hospital yesterday, went to nine different stations and got some part of our bodies checked. It was all remarkably efficient despite the masses. First, the most competent phlebotomist I have ever encountered drew my blood into two vials. I hardly felt the needle prick. Second, a doctor barked at me to take off my shoes and stand on a cool machine that measured height and weight remotely. Third and fourth, a diffident doctor swabbed my throat, pulled on my ears and peered in, and stuck a little plastic tool, newly removed from its package, up my nostrils, right after another doctor let me keep on my glasses for the eye exam. Fifth, the ultrasound doctor ran a wand over my abdomen and pronounced me okay - no tumors today. Sixth, a technician took a chest xray or at least it seemed like he did. There is some debate among my colleagues about whether that part of the check is real. Seventh, a harried doctor made me lie down and pull up my shirt for an EKG. Higher, she said, higher. Yikes. She stapled the EKG print out to my form. Eighth, in a ladies' room with only Chinese toilets, I peed in the bar coded cup and left it on a cart in the hallway along with tens of other samples. Ninth, a dentist took a quick look inside my mouth in a room that smelled like every other dentist's office I've ever been in. Somewhere along the line, someone took my temperature as well.
In seven work days, I'll learn if I passed the body check. Then I get to go to the police station for an interview.
The following "Body Check Plus" is not for the faint of heart. If you are sqeamish or embarassable or shy or work with me professionally, please stop here.
I have never given a urine sample on a Chinese toilet before. Please google Chinese toilet or porcelain hole in the ground. Hence, I peed all over my hand. There was no toilet paper. The sinks had upside down buckets in them with signs - and exclamation points. I don't know what the signs said, but I got the message when I turned the faucets and no water came out. I eyed the sink longingly in the dentist's office. I was finally able to rinse my hand off over a garbage can by the water cooler in the reception area while Yvonne and I waited for another colleague to finish his body check. I didn't explain to her what I was doing. She didn't ask.
First Day of Chinese Lessons
September 8, 2009
Stirling, Sofia and Jacek are in one class. Isabel and I, the very beginners, are in another. It is hard. I am old for new language learning. But, I did recognize the character for da (big) - like a person standing with arms outstretched - on several signs. When I learn another 799 characters, I'll be minimally literate. I know there are four tones; I just can't distinguish them yet. Or make them either.
Stirling, Sofia and Jacek are in one class. Isabel and I, the very beginners, are in another. It is hard. I am old for new language learning. But, I did recognize the character for da (big) - like a person standing with arms outstretched - on several signs. When I learn another 799 characters, I'll be minimally literate. I know there are four tones; I just can't distinguish them yet. Or make them either.
Monday Night Swimming
September 7, 2009
We invited the six teaching fellows and other visiting professor over to swim at the pool tonight. Three of them swam with us and then Sofia, Jacek and I joined them for dinner at a little outdoor restaurant about a twenty-minute walk away. Matt Smith, one of the fellows, speaks excellent Mandarin and ordered all the food. This was the third time this week that they had been there, but now that the beautiful waitress has passed the civil service exam and will start a new job tomorrow working as an attendant on a bus line, my guess is they won't go as often. For the first time, Sofia had multiple vegetarian options: eggplant, tofu, tofu skins, some green skinny vegetable a little bit like the stalks of green onions. Even so, on the walk home she said "I don't know how long I can eat this food. I want hummus."
We start Chinese lessons tomorrow morning.
We invited the six teaching fellows and other visiting professor over to swim at the pool tonight. Three of them swam with us and then Sofia, Jacek and I joined them for dinner at a little outdoor restaurant about a twenty-minute walk away. Matt Smith, one of the fellows, speaks excellent Mandarin and ordered all the food. This was the third time this week that they had been there, but now that the beautiful waitress has passed the civil service exam and will start a new job tomorrow working as an attendant on a bus line, my guess is they won't go as often. For the first time, Sofia had multiple vegetarian options: eggplant, tofu, tofu skins, some green skinny vegetable a little bit like the stalks of green onions. Even so, on the walk home she said "I don't know how long I can eat this food. I want hummus."
We start Chinese lessons tomorrow morning.
Getting to Church
September 6, 2009
Church is close! Only a four minute walk to Bus 43, then a 45 minute bus ride past the Eiffel Tower, Roman Coliseum, Egyptian Pyramid, and Renaissance Village (a theme park called Window on the World), then Bus 113 for 45 minutes to the Sea World stop (just what it sounds like), then a twenty minute walk through the guarded gate of Jiang Villa (an international expatriate compound) and up tree lined streets to House 66. An hour and fifty minutes times two means we were on the road for longer than we were at church. Maybe it will get faster by five minutes or so when we know what streets to take in Jiang Villa. Maybe we'll have to take two cabs at least part of the way. With five people in the family, one Toyota Camry sized cab doesn't work so well. We got far fewer stares around Jiang Villa than in our neighborhood. Here, the entire kitchen staff at the University canteen turned and stared at us when we first went in. All forty of them twisted around in their chairs to stare as we negotiated the dinner line.
Jacek and Isabel met a nine-year old neighbor boy at the apartment pool. I heard him practicing his English with his mother over in a corner -- "I want to play" -- after hovering on the edge of the jacek's and Isabel's game for too long. Jacek did a cannonball and then spent seven minutes trying to explain the term, mostly in Chinese. By the time the conversation ended, it looked like some of the adults who had joined in understood a cannonball was a big, big splash. My book pages got all spotty wet.
Church is close! Only a four minute walk to Bus 43, then a 45 minute bus ride past the Eiffel Tower, Roman Coliseum, Egyptian Pyramid, and Renaissance Village (a theme park called Window on the World), then Bus 113 for 45 minutes to the Sea World stop (just what it sounds like), then a twenty minute walk through the guarded gate of Jiang Villa (an international expatriate compound) and up tree lined streets to House 66. An hour and fifty minutes times two means we were on the road for longer than we were at church. Maybe it will get faster by five minutes or so when we know what streets to take in Jiang Villa. Maybe we'll have to take two cabs at least part of the way. With five people in the family, one Toyota Camry sized cab doesn't work so well. We got far fewer stares around Jiang Villa than in our neighborhood. Here, the entire kitchen staff at the University canteen turned and stared at us when we first went in. All forty of them twisted around in their chairs to stare as we negotiated the dinner line.
Jacek and Isabel met a nine-year old neighbor boy at the apartment pool. I heard him practicing his English with his mother over in a corner -- "I want to play" -- after hovering on the edge of the jacek's and Isabel's game for too long. Jacek did a cannonball and then spent seven minutes trying to explain the term, mostly in Chinese. By the time the conversation ended, it looked like some of the adults who had joined in understood a cannonball was a big, big splash. My book pages got all spotty wet.
Cheese, Bread or Chicken
September 5, 2009
Today's Question: Which of the three is not to be found in Shenzhen: cheese, bread, or chicken?
Sofia, Isabel and I went with two of my teaching colleagues from the University to one of the big shopping areas in Shenzhen called Hua Qiang Bei. We took Bus 43 for forty-five minutes then transferred to the metro and rode for another 45 minutes. Hua Qiang Bei has more stuff than I've ever seen, ever. Enormous electronics stores, five and six story department stores with hundreds of little shops inside, the Women's World Market, the Foreign Clothing Trade Market, Gomz Electronics, McDonalds, KFCs, shoe stores, cosmetics stores, line the street on and on and on for miles and miles. Size-wise, the clothes in the stores work a little better here for Sofia and Isabel than for me. My dairy-fed Northern and Eastern European ancestors endowed me with more of a derriere than most Chinese. Plus, I'm just bigger in general but even extra-large wasn't cutting it.
We got lunch by pointing at food in an underground supermarket beneath one of the department stores. Three side dishes came with my rice. I couldn't tell exactly what was in each of them, but one was tomatoes with egg, one was something that tasted like squash with a chunk of meat, and the other was tofu with a sauce. I plunked the chunk of meat in my mouth and crunched. "Uhhh, this is boney," I said as I removed it from my mouth with chopsticks and delicately set it on the lid of the styrofoam container. After a few more mouthfuls, I traded dishes with Sofia. She's vegetarian but I didn't expect her shriek, "It has a beak. That's a beak. A beak, Mom!" On closer inspection, I confirmed that she was right. I had indeed chomped down on a stewed chicken head, but I didn't swallow.
Answer to Today's Question: Chicken is everywhere. Cheese and bread are nowhere. Chicken feet were on the menu in the University cafeteria this evening. No one chose them, at least not in our family.
Boiled eggs are a standard breakfast in China, often boiled in tea. Ours are just plain water boiled, but in the teapot, our single cooking implement. When I came back from the neighborhood market this morning carrying my flat of eggs - the second in three days, our neighbor stuck his head out and warned me. "I told your husband shopping is better at the Rainbow Market. High quality guaranteed. Don't shop at the corner market. Some things can be . . . fake." I was a little taken aback. "I bought eggs" I said, wondering how someone could fake eggs. "Probably okay." "I bought carrots and peppers and plums." "Fruit is probably okay. Don't buy meat. Meat can be a problem." That I can understand. I don't think I'll be buying meat anywhere, Rainbow Market or neighborhood market. Fake or not, I'm not sure I'd know what I was getting.
Today's Question: Which of the three is not to be found in Shenzhen: cheese, bread, or chicken?
Sofia, Isabel and I went with two of my teaching colleagues from the University to one of the big shopping areas in Shenzhen called Hua Qiang Bei. We took Bus 43 for forty-five minutes then transferred to the metro and rode for another 45 minutes. Hua Qiang Bei has more stuff than I've ever seen, ever. Enormous electronics stores, five and six story department stores with hundreds of little shops inside, the Women's World Market, the Foreign Clothing Trade Market, Gomz Electronics, McDonalds, KFCs, shoe stores, cosmetics stores, line the street on and on and on for miles and miles. Size-wise, the clothes in the stores work a little better here for Sofia and Isabel than for me. My dairy-fed Northern and Eastern European ancestors endowed me with more of a derriere than most Chinese. Plus, I'm just bigger in general but even extra-large wasn't cutting it.
We got lunch by pointing at food in an underground supermarket beneath one of the department stores. Three side dishes came with my rice. I couldn't tell exactly what was in each of them, but one was tomatoes with egg, one was something that tasted like squash with a chunk of meat, and the other was tofu with a sauce. I plunked the chunk of meat in my mouth and crunched. "Uhhh, this is boney," I said as I removed it from my mouth with chopsticks and delicately set it on the lid of the styrofoam container. After a few more mouthfuls, I traded dishes with Sofia. She's vegetarian but I didn't expect her shriek, "It has a beak. That's a beak. A beak, Mom!" On closer inspection, I confirmed that she was right. I had indeed chomped down on a stewed chicken head, but I didn't swallow.
Answer to Today's Question: Chicken is everywhere. Cheese and bread are nowhere. Chicken feet were on the menu in the University cafeteria this evening. No one chose them, at least not in our family.
Boiled eggs are a standard breakfast in China, often boiled in tea. Ours are just plain water boiled, but in the teapot, our single cooking implement. When I came back from the neighborhood market this morning carrying my flat of eggs - the second in three days, our neighbor stuck his head out and warned me. "I told your husband shopping is better at the Rainbow Market. High quality guaranteed. Don't shop at the corner market. Some things can be . . . fake." I was a little taken aback. "I bought eggs" I said, wondering how someone could fake eggs. "Probably okay." "I bought carrots and peppers and plums." "Fruit is probably okay. Don't buy meat. Meat can be a problem." That I can understand. I don't think I'll be buying meat anywhere, Rainbow Market or neighborhood market. Fake or not, I'm not sure I'd know what I was getting.
Greetings from Shenzhen
September 3, 2009
Well, it is true. Blogspot.com is blocked in China. Sofia was able to access her account from Hong Kong early Thursday morning Hong Kong time. But, none of the kids has been able to acces their accounts to update their blog since we arrived in Shenzhen this morning at 9:30. Stirling may have found a way to work around the block by using email. We'll try that tomorrow and see how it works.
Our apartment is a 15 minute humidity-induced swim from the Peking University School of Transnational Law where I will be teaching. The wet push from the South China Sea nearly knocks me over each time I step outside.
We met our neighbors. They offered to go with us on Bus #43 to the Rainbow Shopping Center to help us buy things we need: towels, a garbage can, dishes. The husband is an English teacher; the wife teachs too; the ten-month old baby is enormous. Through their screen door, I heard the mother counting with the baby this evening -- yi, er, san, si . . . .
This is how tired we all were this evening after our 14 1/2 hour night on the plane, four hours in the Hong Kong airport, and half hour ride on the ferry from Hong Kong to Shenzhen-Shekou. Isabel voluntarily went to bed rather than insisting we stay at the university for the students' movie night. Jacek let me touch up his teeth brushing without a complaint. Sofia ate white rice without many vegetables for dinner. Stirling is snoring next to me. I haven't collapsed . . . yet.
Well, it is true. Blogspot.com is blocked in China. Sofia was able to access her account from Hong Kong early Thursday morning Hong Kong time. But, none of the kids has been able to acces their accounts to update their blog since we arrived in Shenzhen this morning at 9:30. Stirling may have found a way to work around the block by using email. We'll try that tomorrow and see how it works.
Our apartment is a 15 minute humidity-induced swim from the Peking University School of Transnational Law where I will be teaching. The wet push from the South China Sea nearly knocks me over each time I step outside.
We met our neighbors. They offered to go with us on Bus #43 to the Rainbow Shopping Center to help us buy things we need: towels, a garbage can, dishes. The husband is an English teacher; the wife teachs too; the ten-month old baby is enormous. Through their screen door, I heard the mother counting with the baby this evening -- yi, er, san, si . . . .
This is how tired we all were this evening after our 14 1/2 hour night on the plane, four hours in the Hong Kong airport, and half hour ride on the ferry from Hong Kong to Shenzhen-Shekou. Isabel voluntarily went to bed rather than insisting we stay at the university for the students' movie night. Jacek let me touch up his teeth brushing without a complaint. Sofia ate white rice without many vegetables for dinner. Stirling is snoring next to me. I haven't collapsed . . . yet.
Blogs in China
September 1, 2009
Sofia, Jacek and Isabel have created blogs to help record their time in China. I learned this morning from a new friend in Shenzhen (our city) that some sites may be blocked, but we'll keep our fingers crossed that blogspot.com isn't regularly one of them. We look forward to your comments on the blogs.
Sofia -- http://sufeifeizaizhongguo.blogspot.com/
Jacek -- http://xiangqininja.blogspot.com/
Isabel -- http://bingqilingchina.blogspot.com/
Our flight leaves Salt Lake this evening at 8:25. We arrive in Hong Kong on September 3rd at 5:25 am. I think we'll make it. :)
Sofia, Jacek and Isabel have created blogs to help record their time in China. I learned this morning from a new friend in Shenzhen (our city) that some sites may be blocked, but we'll keep our fingers crossed that blogspot.com isn't regularly one of them. We look forward to your comments on the blogs.
Sofia -- http://sufeifeizaizhongguo.blogspot.com/
Jacek -- http://xiangqininja.blogspot.com/
Isabel -- http://bingqilingchina.blogspot.com/
Our flight leaves Salt Lake this evening at 8:25. We arrive in Hong Kong on September 3rd at 5:25 am. I think we'll make it. :)
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