The Price of Beauty

I love getting my hair cut in China. For $1 you can get a wash, cut, and blow dry. For $12 they'll dye and perm it for you too. Personally, I'm much more interested in the former than the latter, but brown hair dye and fake curls are all the rage among Chinese youngsters, male and female alike. Therefore, I dutifully accompanied my friend to the salon to take advantage of the $12 deal.

(Another convenient feature of a Chinese salon? Their long hours: 9 am to 10 pm. Cheap labor is a wonderful thing.)

While I was charmed by the amount of personal attention we received, I think my friend and I were both surprised by the length of time it took to dye and perm her hair. I don't know about you, but seven hours seems a bit excessive. Maybe it was because two of the five employees had only been in the hair business for three months? Whatever the reason, it wasn't all bad. It gave us a chance to make friends with the owner and staff. Our conversation ranged from Yao Ming (hot, or not? I say not.), to the details of the hair cutting business, to American foreign policy. By the end of the evening, we had become best buds. We walked one of the interns home after work, and the other one flirted shamelessly with us for four of the seven hours we were there. Here's a photo of him putting the moves on my friend:

While I had no intention of getting my hair cut when I walked into the salon, the staffs' enthusiasm for my hair eventually won me over. The owner literally made every staff member run their fingers through my hair just for the experience of feeling a foreigner's hair. They were very excited to get a chance to see what it looked like wet, so eventually they dropped their price down to zero, at which point I acquiesced. So yeah, I got a free wash, cut, and blow dry. Also, because they were bored and curious, they decided to play with the straightening iron too. Which, while isn't really on the top of my list of ways to spend a Friday afternoon, isn't necessarily at the bottom either.

Update: Remember how I said a reporter took my photo during the solar eclipse last week? Well, you can find it online here, along with that of an elderly gentleman and a small child.

Sarcasm-Free

I have recently been accused of adopting a sarcastic, cynical tone here. To put these outrageous claims to rest, today I will share with you a wholesome experience that is very near and dear to my heart: the recent solar eclipse. They say that to see another solar eclipse of this duration in China, you'll have to wait another 500 years.

In Jinan we only saw an 80% eclipse - the full eclipse was only visible in a narrow band south of here. My friend happened to be in this band during the eclipse, and reported that the whole sky went black. Nothing like that here, but the view we got was still pretty amazing. Plus, the temperature dropped about 10 degrees Farenheit, which was a nice respite from the brutal Jinan heat.

The morning of the eclipse, I woke up early and headed out to the campus soccer field with a friend in preparation for the 8:22 am start. You can't look directly at a solar eclipse, so we planned to use the "simple" method of viewing, which the internet and newspapers claimed was as easy as punching a small hole in a piece of paper and viewing the shadow. This is myth. Not only do you feel ridiculous standing outside in broad daylight staring at a tiny pinprick of light on the ground, but the pinprick doesn't actually change to show the eclipse.

Luckily, an elderly professor and his grandson had also come out to see the eclipse, and had actually come prepared with special glass lenses through which you can look directly at the sun without going blind. They were nice enough to let us share. Actually, the professor was so nice that he actually went over to the guys training on the soccer field, told them about the eclipse, and invited them over to take a look. I think they were relieved to take a break from carrying each other around.

Anyway, these magic lenses turned broad daylight into this:

We stood out in the field passing around the lenses until the peak of the eclipse at 9:40 am, at which point the seven year old grandson couldn't take the tedium any longer and forced Grandpa to take him home. (I had to respect this kid's persistence. His winning argument: "Grandpa, which gives off more UV rays, the sun or the TV? Huh, the sun, really? Well then I guess we'd better head home to the safety of the TV.") Newly lense-less, we decided to head over to the city square where they were selling cheapo lenses.

My friend had a bike, which meant that I got to do the girl thing and ride on the back. Chinese bikes all come equiped with a flat metal wire area over the back tire. Girls, and the occasional guy, often sit side-saddle on this "seat", turning the bicycle into a vehicle for two. This is not as easy as it sounds. First of all, Chinese bikers weave through traffic a lot, so you have to watch that your knees don't get smashed into a passing car. Plus, since your weight isn't distributed equally on both sides of the bike, you kinda have to lean back a little and constantly make tiny body adjustments. I spent the vast majority of the ride tensed with fear, gripping the seat for dear life. Once we got back to campus, though, I was brave enough to take this picture:

See my friend's back? He's pedaling, I'm sitting.

Anyway, back to the eclipse. Once we got to the city square, we bought some cheapo lenses of our own and watched the end of the eclipse. The crowd had thinned out a lot, but there were still quite a few spectators.

The TV stations and newspapers were there too, and a guy with a professional-looking camera took my picture for the local paper. He claimed he'd e-mail me the photos, but so far, nothing. This will have to suffice.

A final (only mildly sarcastic) note: Somehow, despite the fact that the moon was blocking 80% of the sun's rays, I still managed to get a nice sunburn to compliment my stylish sandal tan.

Apple a Day

This is Dr. Yi, one of the many village doctors that I met on my recent survey of China's rural areas.

In addition to enjoying the occasional slice of watermelon, he has the unique ability of making every child in the village cry on sight, probably because of his professional love of needles. He is also a favorite among the men in the village because of his tendency to hand out free cigarettes.

My interactions with him and other village doctors have taught me quite a lot about basic health care. Never one to deprive others of valuable health tips, let me share what I have learned.

- An effective cure for the common cold is an IV injection of sugar water.

- Antibiotics are a good way to both treat and prevent diarrhea.

- Flies do not pose a health risk and should be welcomed at the local clinic.

- Two pills are more effective than one; three pills are more effective than two; and four pills are more effective than three.

- When you have your period, you should:

+ Never ever exercise or engage in strenuous activity of any kind.

+ Avoid consuming any food or beverage that is not steaming hot (including water).

+ Drink a concoction of brown sugar and water to ease cramps.

- An appropriate nomiker for a bipolar patient is "the psycho".

With these tips in mind, who's up for a stay at the village health center?

Or how about the fever ward of the local hospital?

Personally, I may opt for the proverbial apple instead.

Paradise: Found

Imagine a world in which all of your friends and family members live within a few miles of your home. A world where kids regularly ride their bikes to their friends' houses without worrying about being abducted on the way. Where neighbors regularly stop by just to chat, and friendly neighborhood card games are a popular after-dinner pastime. This is a world in which families eat all of their meals together, and in which every meal is made with freshly picked organic vegetables from the garden.

Welcome to a rural Chinese village.

Before you start packing your bags and joining the approximately 87 million others living in this rustic paradise, note that some may claim that the lack of certain modern conveniences cast a shadow on this wholesome, down-to-earth living experience. These party poopers might point out that the typical village bathroom is an open air slosh pit that doubles as a maggot breeding area compost heap, and that water has to be hand-pumped from a well in the yard. But what these pessimists don’t realize is that many of these so-called "inconveniences" are actually advantages.

For example, sure, the floor might be made of dirt, but hey! No need to mop or vacuum! And yeah, no computers, but who needs the internet anyway, with all of your friends and family living so close? If you want to know what's going on in the world, just turn on the TV and tune in to one of the three government-sponsored news channels available.

Another advantage of village life is that you no longer have to spend all of your time in a sterile office reliving scenes from "The Office" and complaining about lack of lumbar support. In the village, you can connect with nature by spending your working hours gardening, or as they call it, "farming". Sure, this may occasionally involve some tiresome tasks such as planting seeds, fertilizing, spraying toxic chemicals, and weeding, but on the bright side, you'll get to work on your tan. And hey, if it rains, go ahead and take the day off, God’s treat!

Sounds pretty idyllic, no? And if that’s not enough, real estate is dirt cheap: for less than $5000 you can set yourself up in a sweet crib with all of the amenities I’ve mentioned here.

Who’s with me?

Birthday Fun

Today was my friend's birthday.

Like birthdays in the U.S., my friend's celebration included cake, candles, snacks, and beer.

Unlike birthdays in the U.S., it also involved a rousing variation on duck-duck-goose, as well as a mid-celebration shower break.

Since it is too hot to stay indoors, the celebration was held at the only outdoor party venue on campus: the track. We set up in the middle of the soccer field, spread out some newspapers to sit on, and got started. After singing the obligatory birthday song (in English for my benefit), and drinking the requisite birthday toast, we dug in.

The cake was actually better than the average Chinese birthday cake, meaning that I could just about make out a tiny bit of flavor (is that coconut?) above the sickly sweet taste of the mountainous frosting. It was kind of like having a mouthful of sugar-infused shaving cream.

Anyway, I was innocently enjoying my cake when it began: the frosting fight. (Like the song and the toast, this appears to be a mandatory part of every Chinese birthday party.) Despite my initial resolution to "sit this one out", within seconds I had a giant gob of frosting on my cheek and was sporting what appears to be a frosting hat. A war cry could be heard as I ran ahead wielding a plate of half-eaten cake.

As it turns out, no one was spared.

The war may have gone on indefinitely if it were not for the fact that we eventually ran out of cake. At some point we realized that we had nothing left to throw, and were stuck standing, breathless, in the middle of a large field, covered in yellow cake and white frosting. Moreover, the latter was attracting insects. Thus, the shower break. Well, if you consider a rusty faucet in the nearest public restroom to be a shower. Everyone's face, neck, arms, and hair got thoroughly rinsed, so I say it counts.

I know that now you're thinking "geez - what could be more fun than a frosting fight? the rest of this entry is going to be so boring!" But you are so wrong. The best is to come.

Duck-duck-goose? Yeah, we played. Not much to tell.

What could be more fun than duck-duck-goose and a frosting fight?

Why truth-or-dare of course!!

That's right, the source of so many stories and scandals has made it to the Far East.

Examples of Dares:

"Go up to that guy and tell him he's hot."
"Shout your name across the field."
"Pretend to hug guy-you-like-but-won't-admit-you-like."

Examples of Truths:

"Do you like guy-you-like-but-won't-admit-you-like?"
"If you had to marry one of the following guys in our class, which one would you choose?"

Hello middle school. Did you miss me?

Red Tape

While I have absolutely no data on this, I feel fairly confident making the claim that China has the largest and most unwieldy bureaucracy in the world. Over the course of the past week, I have come face-to-face with this bureaucracy in an innocent attempt to extend my visa.

[Warning: The only thing more time-consuming than reading about this experience was actually living through it.]

When I first went to the visa office last week, armed with a thick packet of official paperwork that I had triple-checked for accuracy, I was informed that I was missing one form: proof of residence. I was assured that this could easily be obtained from the local police station.

At the local police station, I was informed that only one employee knew how to issue me proof of residence, and that she was in a meeting. I was told to come back "later".

When I returned later that afternoon, the employee in question was indeed back in the office, deeply absorbed in her work, which seemed to involve texting someone on her cell phone and giggling to herself. Without looking up from her phone, she informed me that I needed a signed and sealed letter from my department stating my address before she could issue proof of residence.

This was Friday afternoon. Bright and early Monday morning, I appeared at the police station with the requisite letter, only to find that the multi-tasking employee had taken the day off. Because I am not a patient person, I asked another employee if she could please figure out some way to get me my proof of residence, because it had already been several days and my visa was about to expire. The subsequent phone call she made was the one in which it was discovered that I was an unregistered alien no better than a common criminal.

Two days later I returned, yet again, to the police station for sentencing. Unsurprisingly, they decided that I was to be fined. I won't say the exact amount, but I will say that it represents half of my monthly salary. And apparently ignorance isn't an acceptable excuse for lawlessness in China.

Anyway, you might think I could just pay up and get out of there, but you'd be wrong. They had to take a sworn statement from me, stating the case, and then confirming that I understood the charges against me and didn't deny them. This was handwritten by the officer in charge. Then, they had to make copies of my passport and visa. Because they don't have a copy machine, they actually made me go out into the street to find a copy place and pay for the necessary copies. Then they made me fill out a form with my basic information. Again, because they don't have a copier, I had to fill out multiple copies. These copies were then all thrown away and I had to start again from scratch because they accidentally gave me a blue ballpoint pen instead of a black gel pen.

Once the paperwork was all filled out, I had to sign everything. This involved my actual handwritten signature, as well as my fingerprint. They gave me a little red inkpad and I had to stamp my finger over every signature and date on all of the forms. Then I had to do it all over again because I only signed my first and last names - and not my middle name - which apparently can be very confusing for non-English speakers.

Just when I thought everything was finally finished, they decided that they needed further proof that I was who I said I was. So my professor from the university was called down to the station to verify my identity. She was also forced to sit around while the officer in charge handwrote yet another statement of the charges against me, which my professor then had to sign. While we waited around, I taught her how to play hangman:

All good things must come to an end, however, including my time at the police station. I was eventually given my proof of residence form, and forced to say goodbye to my new friends. I was heartened, however, by the knowledge that I would now have the opportunity to make more friends back at the visa office. Sadly, however, things there went fairly smoothly. The only minor hitch occured a couple of days later, when I went to pick up the completed visa. No one appeared to be manning the visa counter, and when I asked the manager, he sent upstairs to a back room where I had to actually rouse the necessary employee out of bed. But he obediently shuffled downstairs - rumpled hair and all - and quickly and efficiently retrieved my passport and visa.

That's China for you.

Independence Day

While the Fourth of July passed quietly here, with no local fanfare, today was still an independence day of sorts, as it marked the first official day of summer vacation. The last university exams were yesterday, so thousands of students celebrated today by sleeping past 6 am for the first time in recent memory, and by supporting local businesses with weeks of pent-up pocket money.

While I obviously had no exams, I too rejoiced over the end of finals, because it meant that my friends were finally free ("independent") to hang out with me again. A few of us celebrated by going out for barbecue, which was the most American thing I could think of doing. Of course, Chinese barbecue is quite different from the American variety:

Intestine, bone marrow, and pig's ears rarely appear on the menu at the typical Fourth of July picnic. The beer is the same though, and that's what matters eh?

I tried to encourage people to show their patriotic love for the U.S. by wearing red, white, and blue, but out of girlish modesty, my friends declined to wear red on the grounds that it is "too sexy".

Sexy indeed.

Miss you America! Happy Fourth of July!