Gaining Experience

I apologize for the large gap in time between this post and the last, but I have been busier than ever –I’m now teaching three- and four-year olds kung fu on the weekends, but more on that later.

Fun Fact: I have spotted no squirrels in China. This bothers me a little because, without them, I am unable to determine the intensity of the coming winter from the bushiness of their tails, and I only brought two pairs of long pants.

Concerning shopping for clothes, I have been to two huge markets, each containing likely hundreds of 15x15ft [no, I haven’t figured out meters yet] outlets, forming a labyrinth of often disorganized clothing dispensaries.

Certain markets require one to haggle, lest one pays $121 dollars for a shirt.  Fortunately, with a little complementing, sneering in disgust, and benefitting from an accidently misspelled cashmere tag, the price was dropped to $11, though at one point a small group of people stopped their shopping to enjoy the spectacle.  Not bad for a thermal cashmier shirt.  Granted, I was called friend, a bully, a foolish person, and handsome, respectively, by the same merchant.

Whilst exploring the Nan Luo Gu Xiang Hutong, the remnants of ancient Beijing one-story buildings (coincidently also forming a labyrinth) via rickshaw ride, a merchant came up next to our group on his bike and proceeded to try to sell us souvenirs. I was so impressed that I had to try to bargain for a gourd flute. In the process of trying to negotiate in a language that I have the smallest grasp on, the rickshaw driver began laughing after overhearing my negotiating phrases such as, “I am a poor student,” and “really?!? That’s the price?”

Most merchants speak at least some English, though on some occasions one has to drag it out of them because they don’t always like revealing that they can understand one’s conversation with one’s friend about how nice a certain shirt is.

Beggars often reside outside malls and almost all tourist spots.

I have heard rumors of beggar’s guilds, in which cripples are “employed.” I’ve heard that the individuals are forced out on the streets to collect money and are abused to give any profits to the organization (naturally going to the extorters at the top).  Although I feel terrible about seeing so many people on the streets, I have seen beggars use their crippled children (particularly those with unfortunate physical deformities), and small, whimpering puppies as props to bait walkers by.

Although I keep these things in mind, I almost started crying after having to step over a beggar along a narrow passage in order to stick with my group on an excursion.  I do not give money, but I will give food to children if I can.

On a more positive note [please forgive the poor transition], on the Friday before last, our program was offered kung fu classes on Fridays, and naturally I had to go.  After meeting the instructor and telling him that I have been pursuing martial arts for many years, he mentioned the possibility of me teaching kung fu to young kids.  With the support of my peers (shout out to the girls in my program who think I’m good with kids, and who convinced the instructor I’d be a good choice), he offered me a job.

A week later, I received a call to assist him in a promotional campaign so that I would have enough children for my own classes.

The promotional campaign took place on a playground (my domain), during which I met the instructor’s wife, his brother, and a friend of theirs, all of which I would be working with (though only the primary instructor and his wife understand English).  Finally, I have actual Chinese connections!

At the playground, we asked kids if they wanted to try punching a bag, taught them how to punch and kick properly, and when enough of them gathered, proceeded to teach them the beginning of the Crane form in order to impress their parents.  We had enough people sign up for me to have my own class.

I will discuss more on the subject later, but I have a test to study for tomorrow. And almost immediately after, we (the students in the same program as I) are traveling to Qing Hai until the 30^th.

Oh, and the instructor is a former SHAOLIN MONK.  I know a Shaolin Monk!!!! Things are turning out to be a lot more interesting than I could have hoped. 

Finally Noticing a Difference

Despite not having experienced significant culture shock, I seem to be becoming more confused by Chinese culture as I go (presumably, because it is revealing its more nuanced aspects in smaller doses).  

When one walk down the street, it is not uncommon to see women carrying umbrellas and others wearing face-whitening makeup.  I assumed this style of fashion, supposed to convey that one is not a laborer, was outdated.  Although some locals have told me it is going out of style, I can’t travel more than four-hundred meters beyond the campus gates without seeing an umbrella or a paled face (which tend to be inconsistently whiter compared to the skin tone of the arms or neck).

Another interesting trend I’ve noticed is the occurrence of select males (in particularly, overweight males) wearing their shirts rolled up to reveal their stomachs.

So many double takes…

Again, I assumed something like this to be an outdated display of affluence, but have concluded that I simply do not understand this alternate standard of beauty.  Of course, there are styles similar to western attire, but anything truly western is rare (…I think…I’m the farthest one can get from a fashion expert, living within my comfort zone of earth tones).  

Moreover, I’m not saying the women here seek out beer bellies and that albinism is valued as genetic perfection, but I figure there must be a reason why certain styles have not yet gone extinct.

There are a few other key differences between Beijing culture and what I’ve become accustomed to in the US.  Two subjects, the absence of tipping in restaurants and the apparent lack of concern from lawsuits, are nuances in Chinese society that I think make China very much different from the US.

First, in a Chinese restaurant, the food is usually paid for before it arrives, and one is not required to tip for the service.  As a result, food arrives whenever it is ready, varying from person to person. This, however, is considered rather unacceptable in the US, where it is considered polite for the individuals who receive their food first to wait for the staff to deliver the remaining meals to the first’s compatriots.

When rearing children [and yes, as a college student, I am more than qualified to speak with pretentious authority on any subject], one is suggested to discipline the child immediately after an unacceptable event occurs. Similarly, I want the waiters to know that I’ve been more than slightly irked for having to wait over twenty minutes for my food after everyone else received theirs, instead of simply opting to go somewhere else in the future.

Moreover, because the diner has paid for the service of the meal before the meal’s conclusion, the staff is not obligated to wait for the diners to stop chatting before ushering in the next set of consumer. Although this has only occurred in one not-so-fancy restaurant, I was still taken aback.

Second, concerning the insufficient influence of lawyers on Chinese society, businesses, construction crews, and drivers seem not to care about the repercussions of potential accident.  I get the impression there is absolutely no fear of lawsuits, which differs so greatly from the US, where lawsuits act as a larger impetus than government mandates when it comes to handicap accessibility.

I have yet to find one business that does not have at least one step or something in the way that would hinder a wheelchair.

(I have touched on handicap inaccessibility and traffic before but) another example of the lack of precautions seen in the US is in the traffic situation.  The simplest way to explain said situation is to call it a cluster f!@# of pedestrians, bikes, carts, cars, and buses.  

Safety hinges solely on the dexterity of the individual.  Personally I go by the rule that, if the locals are walking (even when cars are edging to plow them over), it’s smarter to stick with the pack instead of playing Frogger alone when you have the right of way.

Although they do not really regard a red light as a necessary stop, a driver won’t hit multiple people because that might actually smudge the paint or mark up the windshield.

I am gradually discovering cultural nuances, such as those pertaining to tipping and the commonality of lawsuits, which actually have a significant impact on society.  I am reminded of the lyrics from Say Hey by Michael Franti & Spearhead: “…Hey, I’ll be gone today, but I’ll be back or around the way.  Seems like everywhere I go, the more I see, the less I know…”

I find it fun to try to figure this stuff out, and have seen (not read) several books dedicated to unraveling the Chinese enigma from a western perspective. I know that it would take no less than a lifetime to fully comprehend and feel at home in both cultures.

Before I forget, I should write something about my academics because –though hard for me to conceptualize on the weekends– this is not a vacation.  

My main academic focus has been on my weekly fourteen hours of Chinese 100, where my one classmate and I have been exposed to about 450 new words in Chinese script. Although we are not required to memorize all of them, we are going to be given our first test tomorrow, and I hope that I do alright considering I have retained enough to recognize about half of them.

I guess I ought to stop procrastinating by blogging… 

First Week of Classes

The program I am in is extremely good about maintaining small class sizes.  Suffice to say, (because there are only fourteen of us in the program, speaking at various levels) if I do not attend my Chinese 100 class for a day, the teacher has to mark down 50% absence. As a result, my fellow beginner in Chinese and I attend class in the teacher’s office. 

The language class is rather rigorous, during which we are given a list of about 50-60 new words/characters each day to practice our pronunciation. Although we are not required to memorize each word, we have to recite a paragraph that takes up about half a page, written in Chinese characters each morning before taking a short quiz to practice listening and writing skills.

Beside from a 9-credit language class, I am enrolled in two other classes: Sociology and Contemporary Chinese Film.  The teachers have impressive resumes, as my Sociology professor has been all around the world and edited the speech given at the 2008 Olympics by the Chinese president, and the Film professor contributed greatly to the production of “Farewell My Concubine.”

I am eager to learn, but am realizing how little time I have during the day to dedicate to studying.

As someone who worked as a custodian for three summers of my life, I’ve noticed that almost all the university buildings I’ve seen require a paint job and many outdoor pipes have rust marks.  I find it interesting that while the teachers are superb, the school lacks the aesthetics of a good school in the US.  

Taking this and the fact that some of the best bao zi (a common breakfast food) in Beijing comes from a small vender that sells right along the street, I’ve come to the conclusion that in China, functionality and quality come far before aesthetics. I am very fond of this philosophy, and find it refreshing from the American attitude that if a restaurant isn’t immaculate, the food must be disgusting, and that the prettiest and largest schools must provide the best education.

Throughout the week, because there is no set meal plan for students here, the group often assembles (usually subgroups of the original fourteen in the program) to walk to a meal. Traveling to a restaurant takes at least fifteen minutes to walk one way.

The food at the school’s cafeteria is much closer by, cheap, and decent; however, food that is advertised in a way that cater to Americans (such as milkshakes) differ greatly anywhere you go from the expected American counterpart which they are designed to mimic.

Though I’m enjoying everything else during my studying in Beijing, I experienced something that I will never forget.  Honestly, this is probably something I shouldn’t be putting online, but I believe writing will provide me some form of catharsis.

I can recall the event as if it were etched into my very brain.  I was waiting patiently in line at the university cafeteria’s ice cream stand, unsuspecting of what was to come.  I had placed a simple order, requesting a milkshake; however, the event that unfolded before my eyes and what it yielded were horrendous.

Witnessing the making of this “milkshake”, I observed a less-than-generous portion of soft ice cream being squirted into the serving container.  Immediately following, the drink was taken to a back room (out of sight, but certainly not out of mind), and was bastardized in some fashion, presumably puréed with some kind of diluted milk substitute. I was handed something that no decent business owner should dare serve a customer after promising a milkshake. 

As a self-proclaimed connoisseur of vanilla milkshakes, I was terribly distraught when I discovered that the “shake” did not qualify as being a milkshake at all, as it seemed as liquid as water.  Indeed, it was devoid of ALL desirable viscosity.  The end product was a beverage [note, a beverage, not a milkshake].  My day was ruined.

Because I had to consume such a beverage with the widest straw imaginable (approximately 1.5 cm in diameter), my mood did not improve.  Admittedly, it still tasted good, but it WAS NOT a milkshake. If I were in the states, I would have reported this station to the Better Business Bureau for false advertising.  Ever since, I have promised myself and my country only to purchase milkshakes from McDonalds while in China.

Overall, a good week. 

Orientation (August 22 – 26)

Please forgive the length of this post, there’s a lot to be learned from one week of being in a foreign country.

Only four of the fourteen students in our group knew someone in the program before arriving, and as a result, everyone has been extremely friendly and outgoing in getting to know each other. Because everything is new or at least different here in some degree from what we were comfortable with a week ago, most of us are comfortable making fun of ourselves and are receptive to jokes.  Topics such as lackluster chopstick skills, the inability to identify what one is eating, and varying levels of language skills provide sufficient material to poke fun at each other and the unknown. I’m not saying we laugh every minute, but the other students here are great and fun to be around.

Concerning the orientation process itself, we’ve had several meetings (none dry or boring) informing us about the area, the culture, and how to react during certain situations.

We were warned about less serious topics such as frequent spitting –the pleasant sound of hocking up sputum is a constant reminder that you’re in China– and the infamous squatting toilets, which I am convinced have greatly benefited Chinese society because the people here are much more flexible in the states. (Yes, I noticed; I’m in a physical therapy program and feel inclined to take note.  Fun fact: virtually, if not literally, all buildings, subways, and the like are not handicap accessible.)

On a more serious note, we were warned that there are key cultural disparities that may make us uncomfortable.

For example, if we see man hitting a woman with a closed fist in public, we are advised not to approach the couple.  At first, the thought of ignoring something like this appalled me because my initial reaction would have been to flip out on the male aggressor. However, things were put into perspective.  If a man hits a woman in a public area, making a scene in public, this man doesn’t care that the public sees his unsavory behavior because he knows there will be no ramifications on his end (possibly even if higher authorities get involved).  I’m not suggesting all abusive people are in the mafia, but we are advised not to interact with individuals who think they are above the law because frankly, they might be.  

Moreover, we were warned that people might misconstrue kindness as an attempt for personal gain because the concept of the Good Samaritan does not really exist here; the Good Samaritan would likely be questioned for his or her intention instead of applauded.

Throughout these meetings, we were warned to be wary of theft, violence and general prejudice against Americans, attempts to swindle money (beware of escorts to teashops), and more. Though valuable insights, I believe that if one were to take all precautions to avoid these scenarios, one would not be able to experience the city because one would have locked oneself in a safe. 

That being said, the director told us some personal accounts about the topics mentioned above that gave the suggestions a lot more credence in my mind. 

Overall, the meetings were enjoyable and informative, but I was personally displeased that, despite preparing us sufficiently for living in Beijing, no z-day contingency plans were discussed.

Outside of the meetings, we had little downtime, and either saw some of the sights, such as Tiananmen Square, or ate.  The food here is AWESOME, but differs from American conceptions of Chinese food.  Dumplings are supposed to be eaten with vinegar and spices, not just soy sauce.  Moreover, I do not think I’ve had anything with plain soy sauce.

Everything here is either spiced (not necessarily spicy), or included in some kind of sauce.  Many people have called true Chinese food greasy, and though I do not think this is the case, if the food is, the grease situation is no worse than in the states. [Traveler’s suggestion: bring Imodium or something like it. It took me a full week to adjust to the local bacterial flora.]

Multiple plates of food for larger groups are often presented on a lazy Susan, and each individual is to remove small portions from the communal dishes onto their own smaller plate.  Note there are no serving utensils so everyone’s chopsticks go from plate to mouth to plate. This fact, in conjunction with the fact that drinking the tap water will even make the locals ill, puts China on a different level of sanitation as the US. 

I’m not suggesting it is unsafe or very unclean here, but people who are overly sensitive about exchanging prokaryotes would be disgusted by the unabashed spew of coughs, semi-concealed sneezes, and non-existent personal space on subways. 

Smog masks are not uncommon on the streets on hazardous smog days (yes, some days are “hazardous” according to the US embassy, which presents a far less optimistic view on air pollution than the Chinese websites).

Other than exploring food, and learning about sanitation, we went on a few excursions.

After a lunch outing, our group of students ended up on a playground (cause why not?).  The playgrounds are slightly different, and significantly less forgiving to those who fall (mainly because right beneath the monkey bars is the same stone as on the sidewalks). There was a child playing on a jungle gym who challenged me to some kind of game.  How he challenged me, I don’t know because, again, I don’t speak the language, but his message was clear. Indeed, playing on monkey bars transcends language.

Toward the end of orientation on the weekend, we went to Tiananmen Square, and acted as both observers and spectacle. Honestly, people were staring at us.  Whenever we were making jokes and goofing off (admittedly making a bit of noise from laughter), people took pictures. At times families would ask if their child could be in a picture with us, and we would graciously, if not eagerly, pose with the child.

Some of the people taking pictures likely came from rural areas and wanted to see the same sights we did, and simply did not expect to see foreigners as interested in their history as themselves.  Moreover, conceptions of what constitutes being rude (let alone politically incorrect behavior if it exists at all in China) are just different around the world.  

These kinds of situations are only as awkward as you allow them to be.  And considering one of the students shouted, “We love China!” in Mandarin as a man was (presumably) videotaping us for his home movie recalling his vacation, I say we took it in stride. 

On a more serious note, [I cannot think of a clever transition so this will have to do] I miss certain people back home like crazy.

To quote my girlfriend, “I don’t want to wish my life away, but I want this time to go by fast.”  I thoroughly enjoy being in Beijing, and the people I have met are great (which is something that really would make or break any trip, especially one where you’re charting a completely unfamiliar land).  While I’m here, I wish to take full advantage of this great opportunity; however, I will most certainly be ready to go home when the time comes. 

Arrival and First Impressions

This post is coming several days late because my program’s orientation has occupied almost all of my time…  The following is about my first day in China.

I engaged in my first dialogue in Chinese on the plane with a couple sitting next to me.  They spoke broken English –while my Chinese can hardly qualify as broken.  We discussed where we were from, where we were going, whether we liked the food and drink provided on the plane.  They were quite eager to teach me new words.  I also mimicked the couple as much as possible in mannerism, such as eating, to try to assimilate as smoothly as possible.

Because I am far from competent in the language, this 17-hour encounter gave me much hope.  Both on the plane and in other settings, I’ve found that strangers are much friendlier than Americans assume.  Making a little effort to speak the local language goes a long way with some locals (not all). 

Two haikus I came up with on the plane (yes, I know haikus are Japanese, not Chinese but I know naught about Chinese poetry):

                        A timeless shuttle

                        Allowing for reflection

                        Anticipates fun

                        Kindness from strangers

                        Deracinated worries

                        Hope ever-present

The airport that we arrived in was HUGE. It even had an amusement-parkesque shuttle that travelled along a track, transporting us to our luggage at the other end.  All of the signs were in both Chinese and English, so finding my way wasn’t hard, and because we were later received by the program director in the airport, no part of my travels was difficult.  Everyone I’ve met has been so incredibly friendly and eager for what’s in store.  

Up through this point, I've experienced no signs of culture shock.

After everyone arrived, we all got on a bus to go to the university.  I would have described the bus driver as crazy because he honked his horn at everything (mostly to inform others of his location as he frequently switched lanes…I think), but this was just the harbinger of what was to be expected within the denser parts of Beijing.  

Despite the driving, and later being completely surrounded by a language I don’t understand, I really had no worries because I was with other students (though most all other students had a better grasp on the language).

However, the experience of being in a foreign place hit me when I was alone in my room for the first time.  My roommate arrived later that night after most of the other students. In the meanwhile, my room, though providing all the essential comforts and more (save a bed that has no give in the slightest), felt more like a hotel. 

Being alone, not being surrounded by the unknown, was the scariest part for me.  I felt stuck in this place, a place that felt nothing like a home.  I have been able to travel easily between my home college and school, and previously referred to my college dorm as “home” unintentionally within about a week of living there.  But this felt completely different.  

I was stuck in an abstract experience that simply suspended me from what I was missing back home; I was worried that this trip would not be worth the time I was not spending with the people I care about back home.  It felt almost as if I was being forced to wait out a long sentence before I could enjoy my life again. 

The fact that I didn’t have internet at the time really didn’t help my situation because it reinforced the notion of being cut off from what I am comfortable with.  I was trapped in purgatory.

Later that evening I was able to access to the internet and contact my loved ones.  In addition, after my roommate arrived, my purgatory felt much more like a college dorm.  I felt less isolated.  However, I was still resenting having to wait for the time when I knew the trip would be worth it. 

Pre-Departure Thoughts

Today is Friday the 17th, and I leave for China on the 21st.

About eight or nine months ago, I found out that I had the potential to study abroad. Realizing that I'll be paying school loans for forever and a half, I came to the conclusion that if I didn't go now, I would be too poor to afford such a venture for the foreseeable future.

I have found that when I tell someone for the first time that I'm going to be studying abroad in China, the potential facial expressions of the listener are various and sundry (ranging from widened eyes portraying "you nuts?!?" to slight head rotations and raised eyebrows signifying "that's interesting"); however, about 67% of the immediate oral responses include some variation of the same phrase: "do you speak the language?"

To these people (and I apologize if you were one of them because I may seem to lack tact in the face of something that should logically scare me), I often responded, "[lol]...no."

I am willing to accept that I am under-prepared or unprepared for this, but due to some backwards way of thinking, I believe that this thought has itself prepared me; I don't know what I'm getting into so I will be more ready to adapt.

Those around me tend to be more worried than I about rational anxieties like language barriers.  What really concerns me is the return home, when I find out whether all my classes are lined up for me to continue into the graduate portion of the physical therapy program I am enrolled. (Concerns that really shouldn't exist because my academic adviser is the man and we worked out all potential problems before I left)

Maybe the possible ramifications of living in a country without knowing the primary language just hasn't hit me yet, or maybe the difficulties of living in China (including, but not limited to, language barriers) will be far more difficult than anything I have fathomed at present.  I know it will be difficult, but I don't know to what extent. I try not to worry about things I cannot control, though I cannot decide if this is a healthy attitude or rationalized ignorance.

I am trying to strike a balance between being mentally prepared, and not freaking out about how unprepared I am for this adventure.

I once considered studying abroad in Scotland instead of China, debating within myself whether it would be wiser to travel to a country with English as it's primary language.  My conclusion:  it would most certainly have been wiser, and a whole lot easier, but I've always had interests with roots in China.

Marital arts have likely been the only consistent interest I've had for over a decade, and through it I have become very fond of Buddhist philosophy. In high school I purchased a book on Shaolin kung fu, but found the chapters discussing Buddhist philosophy far more interesting.  I don't mean to create impractical goals for myself (considering the language barrier), but I sincerely hope to investigate martial arts during my stay.

I acknowledge that I have to be very careful with any of my expectations for traveling to China.  I know little to nothing about it, and cannot hope to grasp its complex culture within a short four-month stay.

Once desiring a change of pace, afraid of feeling stuck in a school that was starting to lose its novelty, I hope I haven't gone to too much of an extreme.  I will be staying at a university designed for foreigners with about thirteen other Americans in my program, but cannot escape the feeling that I will be immersed in the unknown. I think I like the thought.

I cannot imagine a more interesting [note: interesting does not imply good or even pleasant] experience than to be forced to learn new things in everything I do.

Even if this trip is going to be the least enjoyable endeavor I will engage in for the rest of my life, it will be worth it because I know I would otherwise regret not going, regret not learning, regret not trying.

I figure I'm in for quite the adventure.