The rules

Last week, I was on the welcoming committee for a visiting professor from Sweden. Initially, I wasn't sure what my responsibilities would be, but I quickly learned that in addition to providing cultural and linguistic translation services, and of course making insightful comments on the research agenda, I was also expected to do quite a bit of drinking.

Throughout China, alcohol flows liberally when guests are in town, but Shandong locals are particularly well-known for their enthusiasm regarding this traditional form of welcome. I have learned a bit more about Chinese drinking culture since I last wrote about it here, so let me quickly bring you up to speed. You can refer to the following handy diagram to assist in your understanding of this complex ritual:

The person at the head of the table (Position 1) is the host. He is the one paying for the meal and therefore is responsible for leading the first and last toasts, and taking care of the guests. He is the most respected one at the table. The person to his right (Position 8) is the guest of honor. The food all goes to him first, and no one can eat until he starts. If there is a second guest, he sits at the host's left, in Position 2. The person directly across from the host (Position 5) is responsible for making sure the people at his end of the table are drinking enough. The other seats are filled according to status, with higher status people being closer to the host, and lower status people being closer to the senior person.

The actual drinking is very formalized, with the host starting by proposing a toast welcoming the guest. Then everyone chugs until they've emptied their glass. The waitstaff promptly comes around to refill. Then someone else proposes a toast and the process is repeated. This continues throughout the meal, until everyone is jolly and chummy. This is how professional relationships are solidified and where official contracts and agreements are born.

A few additional rules:

- You must never, ever, under any circumstances take a casual sip from your glass. If you want to drink, you either have to wait for someone else to say a toast, or you can take the initiative and propose a toast of your own. Either way, drinking must be done as a group.

- When you clink glasses with someone, you have to make a concerted effort to make sure that the rim of your glass is below the rim of their glass. This shows respect for the other person. Inevitably, this occasionally ends up being a race to the floor.

- Unless otherwise stated, all toasts must result in an empty glass. It's considered respectful to then hold up your glass to show that it's actually empty. Sometimes, you even hold it upside down to show that there's not a single drop left. If a drop falls out, you're then "punished" by having to drink another glass.

- If you get drunk before others at the table, it's a serious loss of face and can result in some disadvantageous business deals. In my opinion, this is part of why women have such a hard time ascending to positions of power in China. Don't worry about me though. I've been able to hold my own quite nicely thank-you-very-much.

The best medicine

I am thrilled to report that I have survived, unscathed, an important rite of passage on the way to adapting to life in China. It's the test that separates the weak from the strong, the men from the boys. Yes: I have made it through my first bout of Chinese food poisoning.

In hindsight, the fact that my friend and I were the only customers in the restaurant should have been a warning sign, but in our fervent desire to consume as many dumplings as humanly possible, I guess we were willing to overlook anything.

My crippling stomach pain first exhibited itself an hour later, and grew to such an intensity that it not only prevented me from getting a good night's sleep that night, but also caused me to lose the entire contents of my stomach (I'll spare you the details of how exactly that happened), and by the next morning I was a pathetic mess, severely dehydrated, undernourished, and unwilling to leave my bed except to dash to the bathroom.

Lucky for me, I live on a medical campus. All of my friends either have completed or are in the midst of their medical training. My room temporarily turned into a private hospital ward. At one point, I was lying in bed as five medical students stood over me discussing my symptoms and trying to agree on a treatment plan. Nurses ran in and out, bringing me food and water and tucking me into bed.

One thing they all agreed on right away: the road to recovery is paved with drugs. Within a few short hours, I was in possession of no fewer than five pharmaceutical products, including two mystery packets of traditional Chinese medicine, two distinct types of broad-spectrum antibiotics, and a small brown bottle of foul smelling liquid. I was able to politely decline the antibiotics, and the foul smelling liquid came up almost as soon as it went down, but the mystery packets went in and stayed in. It may be best that I never know what that white powder was, but when mixed with some hot water, it calmed me right down and finally let me nap in peace for a while.

When I woke up, my friend decided it would be a good time to introduce me to an old friend of hers who lives on a different campus, and just happened to be in the area. In fact, he was waiting right outside, and she excitedly led him into my room. I could tell right away that he was impressed by my chunky pajama pants, pink turtleneck, and vomit-crusted hair. And the look in his eyes as he looked around my room and took in the various drug wrappers, abandoned bowls of dining hall food, and clothing-covered furnishings enthusiastically said "I love what you've done with the place." After a quick introduction, my friend put him to work washing dishes in my shower, refiling my hot water bottle, and taking out the garbage. Sadly, he had to leave for class before he could mop the floor. I got the impression it was an especially interesting class though, because he seemed quite eager to show up early.

Sharing

To see the Chinese Communist spirit at work, one needs look no further than the closets of female college students. Clothing is generally considered to be communal property, to be offered to whomever needs it. You may recall how a few weeks ago, my friend brought me a stylish pink turtleneck to keep me warm in the freezing icebox that was my room. Later, I "lent" her an extra scarf that happened to match her outfit particularly well. An infrequently worn sweatshirt is currently on loan to another friend who loves playing basketball. Gloves must be offered to those without coat pockets, and hats and coats get passed around among friends and roommates. When going out with friends, it is not unheard of to show up in one coat, and to go home in another.

The latest instance of this principle at work came a few days ago. I made a vague comment about how I was in the market for a new coat, when my friend's face lit up and she exclaimed that she had the perfect thing for me: an extra down coat that she never wears. She dragged me back to the dorm with her to try it on.

I tried to control my excitement, reminding myself that it is rare to find a Chinese coat without bows, frills, or pom-poms. The stars must have been aligned that day however, because not only was the coat was a perfect fit, but it was also unadorned (except for the requisite faux fur trim of course). The best part about it though, is the subtle use of color as an attractant. My friend insisted that I borrow it, and I have been wearing it proudly ever since. As an added bonus, I have now earned a new nickname: banana.

The resemblance is uncanny.

A Chinese Thanksgiving - Part 2

Wednesday: The day before Thanksgiving

1:00 pm

My friend stops by my room to deliver the oven.


I am not surprised to learn that it dates from 1970 and has not been used since 1996.

4:00 pm

I am at the store looking for milk. The dairy section is dominated by yogurt, but I eventually find these thin canisters.


The only butter I am able to find is in tiny packet form, like the kind that restaurants throw in the basket with the complimentary pre-dinner rolls.


7:00 pm

I've started making the pumpkin pie, but the "oven" appears to have a smoking problem. I open the windows and start fanning frantically, hoping the fire alarm doesn't go off.

7:15 pm

I am partially relieved, partially disconcerted to learn that one of the Pakistanis in my dorm has conducted informal tests of the smoke detectors over the past three years, and concluded that they are for show only.

9:00 pm

The pumpkin pie is complete. The filling looks perfect, but the crust is burnt to an ashy crisp. I guess the oven is stronger than I thought.

Thursday: Thanksgiving Day

1:00 pm

I've put in half a day of work, eaten lunch and am ready to begin cooking. Some friends have already arrived. I put them straight to work opening butter packets,


peeling potatoes,


and chopping onions.


3:00 pm

The apple crisp is ready to go in the oven. Everyone is very excited.


3:15 pm

The oven appears to have died. We take turns trying to fix it.

3:30 pm

It's official: the oven is broken. Apparently the cooking action last night was a mere swan song. The apple crisp is slightly warm, but still raw.

5:00 pm

My friends have begun to arrive, bearing chopsticks and small metal bowls reminiscent of a World War II mess hall. Snacks are opened and eagerly devoured.

6:00 pm

The real eating begins. The mashed potatoes disappear instantly, and are eaten with chopsticks, as is the majority of the meal.


The pumpkin pie is popular as well, although at my urging, the crust is left untouched.


The uncooked apple crisp is received with a lukewarm reception, although everyone wants their picture taken with it.


Things get exciting when my friend reveals that she brought a bottle of brandy.


A rousing game of charades ensues.


10:30 pm

The students have curfew, so our little party must disband. There is fighting over leftovers, and a frantic last-minute cleaning effort.

Overall, an nontraditional meal, but a resounding success nonetheless.


Hope you all had a wonderful holiday as well!

A Chinese Thanksgiving - Part 1

Thanksgiving is just two days away, and since I can't spend it with my family, I plan to spend it with my new Chinese friends. None of them has ever celebrated Thanksgiving before, but all are eager to learn about this special American holiday. I am just as eager to share it, but am facing a few obstacles in my planning of the perfect Thanksgiving meal.

1. No oven. The vast majority of Chinese food is prepared on a stove top, so virtually no kitchens have ovens. This is problematic for Thanksgiving, since turkey, stuffing, pie, cookies, rolls, casseroles, and corn bread all are baked goods. Lucky for me, however, I was able to use my connections to procure a small toaster oven, and will be using that for my baking needs.

2. No baking soda or baking powder. That means no cookies, biscuits, or corn bread.

3. No cranberries = no cranberry sauce.

4. The toaster is too small to fit a bird inside, and I refuse to handle a turkey carcass anyway, so no turkey.

5. No baking pans. Anything baked needs to be placed in one of several small metal bowls.

With these five restrictions, my Thanksgiving menu has been whittled down to mashed potatoes, apple pie, and pumpkin pie (made from an actual pumpkin - no canned stuff here). I will also be buying some baked sweet potatoes - a Jinan specialty. In lieu of the turkey, I thought I'd make a hearty vegetable soup.

This all seems semi-acceptable until you look at my guest list. Turns out, I have a lot of friends. There's the woman who lent me her oven and her two friends - that's three. Then my grad student friends - seven. Then my kung fu friend, my running friend, and my cooking friend - ten. Plus there's another kung fu friend and her five (!) roommates who really really really want to come - sixteen. Add me, that's seventeen.

So let's review. Seventeen people. A toaster oven. A hot plate. My dorm room.

Wish me luck, because I'm gonna need it.

Boys

Gender roles are a lot more pronounced in China than in the U.S. Girls rarely play sports, except for maybe a casual game of badminton or ping pong. Frills and giggles are a must. Mixed-gender friend groups are rare. Girls are also considered to be generally weak. When hiking, a boy always has to be in front so he can offer a helping hand to the girl(s) behind him. If you're a girl carrying anything besides your purse (eg. bag of groceries, books, etc.), one of the boys you're with will immediately relieve you of the burden. Attempting to refuse these offers of assistance is seen as an insult to his manhood, and is akin to a slap in the face and a kick in the groin.

Another example. When a girl and a boy walk around together, the boy will position himself so that he is closer to traffic, thus "protecting" the girl. I was unfamiliar with this rule, so last night when I was walking around with a male friend, I was confused my his constantly scampering around me as we crossed streets and generally navigated traffic. When I expressed my confusion and my friend finally explained what he was doing, I must have looked surprised, because he asked me if boys in the U.S. watched out for the girls that they hung out with. (Unbidden, an image of a dancing cowboy came to my mind. Ahem. You know who you are.) I explained that in my experience, no, not really, gender equality blah blah blah.

The funny thing is that while on the one hand, Chinese boys are making constant claims to manliness by insisting on taking care of their female friends, on the other hand, they do tons of stuff that would be considered pretty girly in the U.S., like posing for cutesy photos, sporting sparkly charms on their cell phones, and having stuffed animal key chains.

And yet... One of my new friends just posted a series of male-centric "jokes" on the Chinese version of facebook, including this gem:

Guy 1: Aren't there any virgins on this campus?
Guy 2: Yeah - but they're all the unborn fetuses of our girlfriends.

Ummm...?

It's an interesting country this is.

Shopping

Although China is famous for its large population, the Chinese themselves seem to be continuously surprised by the realities of living in a crowded country. Any excursion is guaranteed to include the phrase "Wow! So many people!" I often notice people shaking their heads when confronted with a crowd and then overhear them saying "Ugh - waaaay too many people" or asking no one in particular "How can there be so many people??" Luckily, I am culturally aware enough to nod my head wisely in response, as opposed to launching into my master's thesis on China's population issues and policies.

Why do I bring this all up, you ask? Well, both this weekend and last weekend I went shopping with some friends, bringing me face-to-face with what seemed like a non-negligible fraction of China's 1.3 billion people.



At no point during my shopping experience was I more than an arm's length away from a stranger. While out shopping, Chinese girls like to link arms, or even hold hands, something I had always thought to be a cute way of showing affection. In reality, affection has little to do with it. After about five minutes in the market, I was clinging to my friends for dear life, fearful of being swept away and lost in a maze of small clothing stalls.

Despite the crowds, I was able to make several successful purchases to help ease my transition into the world of Chinese fashion.

- blue plastic backpack. Although my friend encouraged the purchase of a backpack with a classy "Snoopy" design, I politely declined in favor of something a bit more conservative.

- brown boots with pom-poms. These were a steal at only $7. Nevertheless, I noticed when I brought them home that they're not exactly the same height. Oops.

- black "mop" scarf. So named because of its uncanny resemblance to the common household cleaning implement.

- gray skirt with pleather detail and fake pockets

While I admit that I initial harbored some misgivings about how my new outfit would be received, I was overwhelmed by the number of compliments I received when I wore it yesterday. Apparently pom-poms and pleather are in this year.

You heard it here first.

Crossed wires

I am not known for my neatness. While I am not a total slob, I adopt a fairly relaxed attitude towards household chores. Clean the bathroom? Eh - I'll do it tomorrow. Mop the floor? No one's inspecting for dust bunnies, what's the rush? Make my bed? Why bother? I'm just gonna sleep in it again in a few hours.

And so on.

Moreover, in my dorm, there are girls whose job it is to clean. They mop the floors of the common areas every morning at 6 am. They are responsible for wiping down every surface of the dorm, and they take their job seriously. My reasoning (until recently) was, maybe if I wait long enough, they will decide that in addition to cleaning the common areas, they will decide they want to clean my room as well!

Well, last Friday, my hopes appeared to be realized. On my way to my room after work, one of them stopped me, saying "Tomorrow morning, rest a bit, then in the afternoon we'll come in and clean." I contained my excitement long enough to say that tomorrow would be fine, then pranced off to my room, proud that my reluctance to clean had paid off.

On Saturday, I took their instructions to heart and lazed around my room for several hours before considerately vacating my room (to facilitate cleaning) and going to meet some friends. When I returned at 3:00 with my friend, I fully expected my room to be sparkling clean. Instead, one of the cleaning girls greeted me anxiously.

"You need to rest in your room so that we can clean," she said, careful to articulate every word.

Me, smiling: "Yes, yes, okay."

Her, again: "No, you need to rest so that we can clean."

Me, starting to look confused: "Yeeeesss..."

She shakes her head in exasperation. "You need to rest" (here she pretends to be gathering something) "so that we can clean" (she makes a fist and moves her arm up and down).

I look at my friend in confusion. She is laughing, and clears things up with: "You need put away your stuff so that they can paint."

Ohhhhhhhhh.

Dadgummit.

So anyway, instead of relaxing in my freshly cleaned room on Saturday afternoon, I frantically gathered all of my belongings and threw them into a suitcase so they would not get covered in paint.

Needless to say, my room was not cleaned. In fact, when they finally finished painting at around 9:00, my room was in worse shape than it started in. My bed had been taken apart and was left standing vertically in the middle of the room. The curtains had been taken down and were crumpled in a pile in the corner. My desk was covered in dust and paint, and my floor was covered in mud, dust, and paint. My bathroom, which was not painted, had been used as a storage area for other things that would not be painted. Such as chairs. And suitcases. Because the entire room reeked of paint, the considerate painters had opened the windows for ventilation. So now, not only was the room dirty and smelled bad, but it was also even colder than usual.

I was less than pleased.

To reconcile myself to the fact that a deep cleaning was clearly needed, and that no one would be doing it but me, I reminded myself that if I had in fact cleaned earlier, I would be all the more upset about the post-painting state of my room. So I guess I was right all along: being a slob does pay off.

Freezing

While in many respects a capitalist economy, China still likes to remind its citizens that they are in fact living in a communist country. One of these gentle reminders is government-provided heat. The government of Shandong is the sole provider of heating services to local universities, including the one in which I live and work. The Shandong communist party decides by decree when the heat will be turned on. In past years, it was November 5. This year, for unknown reasons, the start date was pushed back to November 15. Saturday.

I don't actually have a thermometer, so I don't know what the exact temperature is in my room, but I would estimate that it's been in the low 50s or upper 40s for the past week or two. In other words, it's really cold. I try to avoid being in my room as much as possible by lingering over meals, "working" long hours, and imposing myself upon others in their dorm rooms. Nevertheless, every night I am forced back to my room to sleep. I have taken appropriate steps to protect myself from the icy air. For example, right now, I am wearing:

a chunky pair of banana yellow, hand-knit woolen pants
regular fleece pajama pants
socks, tucked into pants
long sleeved t-shirt
bright pink striped woolen turtleneck
heavy wool sweater with hood

I am also wearing these:



You can imagine, therefore, how pleased I was when my friend surprised me with an impromtu visit last night, catching me in my nighttime garb. I guess she felt bad for her uncontrollable laughter though, because today she stopped by with two new blankets to add to my collection.

Two more days. Wish me luck.

Superstar

When I found out that my favorite Chinese girl band, S.H.E., would be performing in Jinan, I knew I had to get tickets. When I found out that a boy band known as much for their good looks as for their music would be performing as well, it was the icing on the cake.

Convincing my friends that they should come with me to the concert was easy. Getting tickets was much more difficult. I quickly learned that procuring tickets is a three-step process.

1) Find a scalper. Ticket scalping is common and widely accepted by all branches of law enforcement. When we got to the stadium where the concert was being held, about half of the people milling around outside were shifty looking men who would sidle up to us, pretend to be intensely interested in something in the distance, then surreptitiously flash a few tickets in their jacket pockets.

2) Haggle. Once we expressed some interest in the tickets, the seller would say a number, representing the price. My friend would respond with a harsh cackle, or a snort, then she too would present to be interested in something off in the distance. The seller would then say, "well, how much do you want it for?" My friend would then say a ridiculously low number, at which point it was the seller's turn to snort. This would go back and forth a few times, until either one of the parties walked away in disgust, or a price was agreed upon.

3) Get the tickets. We were a rather large group (7), so sometimes the seller wouldn't have all of the tickets on his person. In these cases, he would need to go "to the back" or to get them "from a friend". This tended to make us a bit suspicious, so we would usually send two or three people with him, to make sure he didn't try any funny business. Sure enough, more often than not, the tickets would not actually exist. Once, the seller actually ran away from us right before handing over the tickets. (And I mean full on Forrest Gump type running.) So this part of the process was not as easy as it might sound.

It took us about an hour and a half to successfully get tickets, and another fifteen minutes to find the entrance to the stadium. At this point, the concert had already begun and we were anxious to get inside and join in the fun. In true Chinese fashion, however, we were stopped by the security guards on our way in. Why? Because the tickets we spent so much time and effort purchasing turned out to be fake. Luckily, the security guard felt sorry for us, especially "the really excited foreigner", and let us in anyway.

O-ba-ma

The post-election atmosphere on campus can only be described as subdued. While most students and faculty followed the election, many did not have a preference between the two candidates, and of those that did, few could give me a concrete reason for their choice. (Unless you count "Obama is handsome... and so thin!") To better exemplify what it's like to talk politics in China, I thought I would share with you a word-for-word excerpt from one of my recent conversations with a professor.

Me: what do you think?

SQ: no special feeling, but I think it is a improvement in US history, at least you all select a blackman as president

SQ: it is a chance for US, and for the world, I really hope the relation between China and US would be changed greatly

Me: changed in what way?

SQ: Whole

Me: whole? what do you mean?

SQ: all aspects, politics, economic, education

Me: are you unhappy with china's relationship with the u.s. now?

SQ: there are some problems, especially on politics

Me: what political aspects of the relationship do you hope will change under obama?

SQ: hehe, I don't know, such as the Taiwan issue

Me: what do you think obama could do to help that issue?

SQ: now looks like you are the vice president

At first I was somewhat surprised/insulted that there wasn't more interest, but then I remembered that I can barely name the top two leaders in China, and if asked to analyze their policies...forget about it! So I guess I'm just another annoying, self-centered American. But apparently I'm qualified to be vice president, and hey, that's something.

Chinese girlfriends

Some of you have been lucky enough to hear my imitation of a Chinese girlfriend talking to her boyfriend. For those of you who haven't, it involves a high whiny voice, a pout, and the Chinese version of "Whyyyyyy? Don't you love me? Why don't you love me?" After a month of astute observation, I have to say that I really think my imitation is spot on.

The advantages of having a Chinese girlfriend are many. In addition to having the opportunity to constantly proclaim your love for her, you will also get to wear matching clothing so the whole world will know that you are a pair. Look how happy these lovebirds are:


That could be you!

Your Chinese girlfriend may even take you to a special store that sells clothes for "lovers". In these stores, the men's and women's clothing are conveniently located right next to each other, and bear matching designs, so you can choose attractive and stylish clothing that fits your "vibe" as a couple.


Which one do you think Noam will like best?

Another advantage: When it's time to get married to your Chinese girlfriend, you will get to take pre-wedding photos. This involves an entire day exploring the most beautiful locations of your city, while wearing wedding-themed rented clothing. More often than not, another couple-to-be will be tagging along, and your photographer will be photographing them as well. You and the other groom may even be wearing matching t-shirts! What fun! The other day, I saw this photo shoot in progress:


The squatting grooms look like they're having a great time, no? Well, all of this could be yours, because guess what? Several of my Chinese friends want me to find them American boyfriends. Any takers? E-mail me and we'll talk.

Short and sweet

Now that I'm starting to have my little groups of friends that I hang out with, I'm learning about the exciting world of Chinese nicknames. For some reason, the Chinese are reluctant to call people by their real names. Teachers are just called "teacher". Family friends are "auntie". Older classmates are "older brother" or "older sister".

These are just titles, I know. But friends will also create nicknames for one another, that they will use exclusively instead of their real names. I have several friends whose nicknames perfectly exemplify this phenomenon. They are: Spider, Big Ocean, Big Mountain, Donkey, Old Chicken, and Cow-cow. They get all into it too. "Donkey", for example, has a adorable stuffed donkey on a keychain on his backpack. (Yes. His.) His friends will also give him a friendly nudge if they see donkey meat for sale anywhere (not as uncommon as you might think).

I myself have been honored with a nickname of my own. Two actually. One is "Little Pony". The other is "Happy-happy". Because I don't want to be informed whenever horse flesh is for sale, I think I'll be encouraging use of the latter.

Dead End

This weekend was my first trip with the cycling club. The plan was simple: bike out to a rustic and beautiful suburb of Jinan, park our bikes and spend a leisurely afternoon in a scenic park, have a picnic lunch, then head home. Sounded good to me. Ha. Here's what really happened:

The leisurely bike ride to the country was anything but. Jinan is a HUGE city - 9 million people - and you know how people are always talking about how crowded and polluted China is? Yeah, well, they're not kidding. The roads were often six or eight lanes across, and clogged with cars, which, by the way, obey no traffic laws and yield to no one. Many of the cars exhaled dark clouds of what looked like a gaseous form of dirt. Add to this the yellow dust that covered everything, and would occasionally blow in large gusts across the road, and you have some idea of what I was biking in.

We biked for about an hour in these conditions in the city, and then transitioned onto country roads, which just meant more dust and less exhaust. By the time we made it to our destination, I was splattered with mud, my butt hurt from sitting on the hard seat for so long, and I was thirsty for the sight of anything green.

Imagine the sheer joy I must have felt, then, upon being informed that - surprise! - the "park" is actually a military training zone, and only Chinese nationals are permitted to enter. That's right: No Foreigners Allowed. Revenge for the opium years? A underlying belief in racial supremacy? Paranoia that I would somehow actually discover and abscond with state secrets? Whatever the reason, I began to consider my options. "Shall I sit here alone in the dusty street with just the chickens and mangy dogs for company? Should I test my navigational skills by biking back to campus on my own? Should I select some lucky member of the biking club to come with me?" I was just beginning to regret not having brought my book along, when I was informed that in fact, a few seasoned members of the club would accompany me to another scenic destination of my choice. Since I had no idea where I was, I decided to do the gracious thing and let the others decide where we should go. And then we were back on our bikes, back on the dusty roads, and headed off to who-knows-where.

At first, it was somewhat awkward, because they all knew each other pretty well, and I was like the annoying freshman tagging along and trying desperately to fit in and be cool. But the thing about biking lonely, dusty country roads is that you have nothing to do but talk to each other. So the awkwardness wore off quickly. And the thing about hanging out with seniors instead of freshmen is that they actually know what they're doing. I don't know how, but we somehow ended up on top of a beautiful mountain overlooking Jinan. And we were so comfortable there, perched on a rock with our various snacks and goodies, that we ended up hanging out there for several hours. By the time we descended the mountain, we were all chummy, and hungry again (typical), so we biked back into Jinan for a ridiculously early dinner.

I'll quickly sum up the rest of the evening, because it went by pretty fast: biking through narrow Jinan alleyways trying to find a restaurant, emerging quite suddenly upon a natural swimming hole filled with elderly Chinese men in Speedos, more narrow alleyways, dinner seated on mini stools no more than one foot off the ground, joking, laughing, getting lost on the way back to campus, a quick shower, and, to cap things off, paying 25 cents to see Angelina Jolie dubbed in Chinese.

A perfect day? Indeed.

Be very afraid

Today I learned how to flip a person to the ground with a gentle twist of my wrist. The person who taught me this was my kung fu instructor, a skinny 22 year old Chinese student about 5'2" and 120 lbs. It would never in a million years have occurred to me that I ought to fear this kid, until he started darting around punching people. He first demonstrated his neat little trick on an unsuspecting male student in my kung fu class. "Hey you," he said. "Grab my wrist." In two seconds, the poor guy was on the floor whimpering in pain.

After helping him up, our instructor proceeded to demonstrate again, this time in slow motion so we could see how it's done. In fact, he demonstrated several times on the same student, who I would imagine will wake up tomorrow with a variety of bruises all over his body. Then he let us practice on each other. I think I only succeeded in giving my partner a mild Indian burn, but don't worry - I'm learning fast and will be happy to demonstrate my new talent when I return home.

Culture shock

These past two weeks have been a crash course in Chinese culture. Let me share a few new habits that I've taken up since moving here:

1. Long lunches
The Chinese take lunch at 11:30, at which time many of them leave the office to go home and take a rest. The office is pretty much dead until 1:30 or 2, when people start to trickle back. I have wholeheartedly embraced this tradition, and spend an hour or so lazing around my room after eating.

2. Squatting
I've already mentioned how Chinese bathrooms don't provide toilet paper, soap, or paper towels. They also don't provide a seat. The toilet is simply a porcelain hole in the ground, with handy-dandy treads for your feet to prevent slippage. And also? The toilet paper goes into a little trash can in the stall instead of getting flushed.



3. Lying
The Chinese are very polite, and don't like to tell you how they're really feeling. I'm working hard to learn this fine art, but it's difficult. I made up a little quiz based on my own experiences to see how you would fare interacting with Chinese friends.

It's Monday night. You just spent a nice hour hanging out with some friends in a coffee shop, but you still need to shower and do laundry before bed, and it's getting late. You're getting tired. As if on cue, your friend asks you if you're tired. Do you reply:
a) "Yeah, a little bit. Let's call it a night - this was really fun!"
b) "No no! Not at all!"
c) "I'm exhausted. Do you mind if I head out early?"

It's Saturday afternoon. You and your friends just spent all day walking around, and now you're all on a crowded bus heading home. There are no seats left, and you have to stand. Your feet are killing you, and you would do anything to sit down. At the next stop, a seat opens up right in front of you. Do you:
a) Sit down immediately and heave a sigh of relief.
b) Offer it to your friend first, and only sit when she says she doesn't mind standing.
c) Insist that you want to stand so you can stretch your legs, and refuse to sit down.

If you answered (b) and (c), respectively, then congratulations! You're a China expert! Please come visit me and teach me how to be like you!

4. Slurping
I've been eating a lot of Chinese noodles, since they're one of only a few vegetarian options in the dining hall. Have you ever tried to eat noodles with chopsticks? Try it sometime. You'll find it's not as easy as you might think. In fact, it can be a slow and messy process if done incorrectly. After careful observation, I have determined the best noodle eating method.
Step 1: Hunch low over the bowl.
Step 2: Shovel a mouthful of noodles into your mouth.
Step 3: Slurp loudly and vigorously to ensure that the entirety of each noodle is consumed in the same mouthful.
Repeat as necessary.
Once you get over the fact that everyone in the room will know that you are eating noodles, this is actually quite fun.

5. Drinking hot water
Because Chinese tap water is disgustingly dirty and not fit for human consumption, the Chinese boil it before drinking it. In the dorm, I get my freshly boiled water from the water heater in the kitchen. It tastes kinda funky if I wait for it to cool to room temperature, so I've taken to drinking it while still hot and tasteless. It's actually become a soothing bedtime ritual, to take noisy sips from my new BPA-filled plastic water bottle. My water bottle even has a name: Binie.

My bathroom

Wow - I can't believe I've made it this far without mentioning my bathroom. My bathroom is very special. It doubles as a shower! That's right - the clever architects who renovated my building five years ago decided not to bother with a separate stall or tub area for washing. Instead, they installed an industrial drain in the middle of the floor between the toilet and the sink, and hung a detachable shower head on the wall. Voila! A shower.

What this means for day to day usage is that showers must be carefully timed so as to be the last order of business in the bathroom. This is because after a shower, the floor, toilet, and counter are all drenched. A daily shower means that the floor never totally dries out, so on my second day here, I went out and bought a pair of stylish plastic sandals to keep my socks from getting all wet every time I enter the bathroom.

My bathroom sports other interesting features as well. For example, the bare bulb that supplies light for the bathroom requires about sixty seconds of "warm up" time before it will shine any brighter than a nightlight. And ooo! The sink! On my first night here, I stood over the sink for about 5 minutes, waiting for the hot water. It never came. The women at the front desk informed me the next day that this is because there is no hot water in the sink. No - if I want hot water, I have to turn on the shower.

Given all of these advantages, you will not be surprised to learn that I have become quite attached to my bathroom. In fact, last week, I was offered the opportunity to switch to another room, since the woman in charge of the dorms was worried that I might be too cold in my current room. After seeing the inferior bathroom of the proposed new room, however, I had to politely decline.

Guilty pleasure

So, I've been here for almost a week and a half and I have to admit, I'm pretty sick of the dining hall food already. The vegetarian options are extremely limited, and everything looks (and kinda tastes) like greasy brown sludge. The noodles are tasty, but again, greasy, and all but vegetable free. So yeah - I'm really craving a bowl of chunky vegetable soup, or some sort of simple pasta primavera type dish. This craving started when I ventured into the dorm kitchen last night to get some water, and happened upon a group of Pakistani guys huddled around a fragrant pot of simmering eggplant stew. Evidence of fresh onions, peppers, and tomatoes were scattered on the counter. Jealous jealous jealous!

Then, today, perusing my choices in the dining hall, I simply could not bring myself to order yet another plate of thick brown potato slime, or a slick pile of mystery greens, or an oily bowl of boiled tomatoes. I decided instead to go with a stuffed bun, since it's relatively dry. After assuring me several times that the bun I ordered was indeed meat-free, the server bagged it for me and I took it back to my room to eat. While in the room, I also made the magical, amazing, life-changing discovery that through some clever computer fiddling, I could trick NBC and FOX into thinking that I was located in the U.S., thus allowing me to watch TV online. This is huge! I am a genius! Anyway, I was feeling pretty good, until I bit into the bun and found out that while the filling was mostly vegetable, it had some meat chunks in it as well. Dadgummit. There goes lunch. And two minutes later, I made the unpleasant discovery that my internet connection is too slow for TV watching. With an empty stomach, and my entertainment hopes dashed, my afternoon was officially ruined. Only one thing could save it from complete and utter disaster. I rushed over to the little shop in the dorm and bought myself an American chocolate bar. Probably the best 50 cents I've spent all week.

Gan bei

I just came back from a fancy department dinner with the dean. Let me quickly set the scene: private room with private bathroom, private wait staff, huge round table set with fancy cloth napkins folded into elaborate designs, chopstick rests, spoon rests, doilies, bamboo rests for the hot damp napkins that were handed around with tongs.

As we were making small talk before the meal, I was casually asked (but with much curiosity) whether I drank. Because Chinese women don't usually drink much, and I didn't want them to think I was a man, I said that I only drank very rarely. Nevertheless, my fate was sealed: I was to be a participant of the drinking ritual that followed, and continued throughout the meal. The dean made a quick gesture to our waitress, who quickly came around filling everyone's glass with beer. It started off fine. The dean held up his glass, looked around the table, and said "cheers everyone!" And we all drank a little. Then the real fun began. The dean turned to the professor next to him and said "Professor Li, let's drink". And they clinked their glasses, and chugged til they were empty. Before you could even blink, the waitress had come by and refilled. Then the dean looked at me and was like "Alexis, welcome to our department. Gan bei!" (That means "empty your glass".) So I had no choice but to chug with him, while everyone watched. This continued around the table, with every possible permutation. Professor Li drank with me. Professor Wang drank with Professor Hong. I drank with Professor Meng. And so on. This enforced drinking continued throughout the meal.

By the end of the evening, at least three professors were wasted. One was on his third cigarette. Another stumbled on his way to the bathroom. One of the women had turned bright red from the alcohol and kept apologizing for how sensitive her skin was. Everyone was loud and jolly. I was one "gan bei" away from dancing on the table. (Ha - not quite, but I was definitely feeling it.) The meal closed with all of us being forced to eat dumplings ("they'll counteract the alcohol") and with the dean announcing that drinking is the best way to overcome jetlag.

One of my friends once shared his idea of measuring the impact of banquets on the health of Chinese officials. At the time, I thought he just meant all the food. Silly me.

Booor-ring

Today was my first full day of work since I've been here, and oh. my. god! The internet is unbelievably slow! Right now I'm doing a tedious literature search, which even on a good day would involve hours of combing through pdf files online. But today was just ridiculous. I mean, they warned me that foreign pages would load a bit slower than Chinese pages, but seriously? At this rate, there could totally be a Chinese official sitting in some room leisurely perusing each document I attempt to access. I'd say I spent an average of 5-10 minutes per document. And that's just to figure out if it's worth downloading! And I have no choice but just to sit there, twitching in frustration as I wait for each page to load.

Given that this was how I spent my day, I was thrilled when one of the teachers in the office asked me to help his friend fill out an immigration form for Canada. Human interaction! Translation! No computer! And the timing was perfect, we finished with the form just in time for me to leave for my first kung fu class. But this guy and his friend were so grateful for my assistance that they insisted on taking me out for dinner, even though I had told them earlier that I had something at 5. So I missed my first class and was all disappointed. But dinner mostly made up for it. Look at this food!



So many colors! So tasty! The food in the dining hall is fine, but it all looks like brown slop compared to this stuff. It was nice to go out to a real restaurant for a change.

By the way, another featured dish at dinner tonight was this one:

See those soft, pine cone shaped things? Those are pig kidneys.

Spring Fever

Today I visited Jinan's famous freshwater springs. The springs are mostly underground, but in some places, they quite literally bubble to the surface, joining and becoming one with local rivers and ponds. In most cases, the clean spring water is immediately contaminated by the dark polluted murk that is a Chinese river. But sometimes, the spring water bubbles up into a little pool, separate from the main river, and can be seen in all its glory. These pools are clear and blue and quiet. Or, they would be if not for the throngs of Chinese crowding around to take a look. Back in the day, all of Jinan drank spring water all of the time, and apparently Jinan women were known for their soft skin and clear complexions. Putting two and two together, I quickly realized that I should do what everyone else at the springs was doing, and fill a bottle (or seven) to take home. Many visitors came prepared with giant jugs attached to long strings, so they were able to lower their receptacle into the clear pool, fill it, and pull it back up. Like this guy:


I only had my little Sigg, so I thought I'd have to turn away empty handed. But wait! Set back a bit from one of the pools, someone had tapped into the spring and created a separate, smaller stream of water, conveniently sized to flow directly into smaller water bottles. I elbowed my way to the front of the crowd and was able to fill my bottle. Success! All I have to do now is wait for the water to work its magic. And hopefully the magic will be on my skin, not on my intestines.

Clubbing

I was continuing to explore the campus this morning when I accidentally walked through a student activities fair. One block later, I emerged, the newest member of two kung fu clubs (apparently they hate each other - oops), the cycling club (never mind that I don't have a bike), and the English society. (The members of the guitar club fought hard for me too, but I was able to escape by promising to attend their concerts.) I have a number of new friends too. In fact, I was accompanied to lunch by two girls wearing shiny pink kung fu outfits. I clearly hang out with the cool crowd here in China, just like I did back in the U.S.

Also today, I finally ventured off campus to the great city of Jinan. I risked my life crossing a busy road to get to a little market area. This market sold a wide assortment of goods, including live roosters, pig carcasses, hunks of cow (flies included!), beans of every color, grains of every variety, greasy pancakes, spicy noodles, pastries, kitchen supplies, and clothing, to name a few. I went there to buy sheets. (A little late, I know.) I stopped at a little stand filled with bolts of cloth in cutesy patterns. All I had to do was pick a design I liked, tell them the measurements of my bed, and they'd make a sheet while I waited. Custom-made sheets! You're jealous, I can tell. Anyway, while the idea of having my bed be covered with pastel-colored talking pigs was tempting, I eventually opted instead for an attractive orange and yellow retro flower pattern, reminiscent of my parents' sheets in the late 1980s. Total cost: $5 Seeing a puppy pee on a rooster on the way home: Priceless.

I'm here!

Hi everyone! I have officially arrived in Jinan, and am mostly settled. I'm living in what they call the "foreign students' dorm", and, after a few days of technological drama, I finally have an internet connection. My first night here was disastrous - I hadn't slept in 28 hours, and it was really dark outside, so I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere. Then I got showed to my room, which was all bleak and impersonal with dirty white walls, ugly gold curtains, a cold tile floor, and a rusty looking bathroom. I was all like "Oh NO! I've made a huuuuge mistake! What am I DOING here??" and THEN I found out I didn't even have internet so I couldn't comfort myself by reading a friendly e-mail or calling home. I felt so isolated and alone and was really sad.

But! After a good night's sleep, and some morning sunlight, things seemed a lot better. The campus here is beautiful, with tons of big shady trees, and old classical-looking stone buildings. Take a look! This is my dorm:



And people are soooooo nice! I met the other members of my research team on Thursday and we all went out for a fancy lunch. And two graduate students have been helping me settle in, buy stuff for my dorm, get a meal card for the school cafeteria, show me around campus, etc. And once I unpacked, my dorm room didn't seem so barren.

So how have I been filling my time so far? Um, basically eating and shopping. Everyone on campus, students and faculty alike, eats at the school cafeteria. There are a bunch of different food stations - noodles, rice, traditional stir fry, dumplings, vegetable pancakes, etc. - and you pick what things you want, swipe a pre-paid card, and voila! A meal! And it's ridiculously cheap too; a giant bowl of steaming homemade noodles runs about $0.50, and that's one of the most expensive things offered. There are a ton of vegetarian options too, although I've adopted a "don't ask, don't tell" policy toward the broths and sauces that everything is served in.

Shopping has been more practical than exciting. I went to the local Wal-Mart to stock up on home essentials like a bath towel and toilet paper, both of which are of significantly poorer quality than their American counterparts. I swear the towels here actually repel water instead of absorbing it, and the toilet paper could double as note paper in an emergency. I have to carry toilet paper around with me during the day too, since bathrooms here don't provide any. They don't have soap either, so I also lug around a bottle of hand sanitizer.

Anyway, so that's my life here in a nutshell. Like I said, people have been really friendly, and I already have a few contacts in my fancy new Chinese cell phone. Apparently I'm the only American on campus (the other foreign students are all from Pakistan), and so the Chinese students are curious to meet me. We'll see what happens when the novelty wears off though. I will do my best to continue posting here. In the meantime, I hope you all are well. Thank you so much for all of your e-mails! I miss you tons and tons and tons!!! <3