Vale-comb to Chai-nah

I often imagine myself as having a Russian accent.

Well, no. Actually, I often imagine myself as having no accent at all. But I am rudely brought back to reality by conversations like this one:

Friend: Ooo! Your dress is so pretty!

Me: Haha, enough with all the flattery!

Friend: Why yes, I do enjoy eating jam.

Clearly, I have an accent of some kind.

Because I can’t really imagine what an American accent sounds like to a Chinese speaker, I make do with imagining myself as speaking English with a heavy Russian accent. (Fine, “generic East European”.) For example, my natural inclination might be to imagine that I’m saying:

“The U.S. is in the process of reforming its health care system.”

But a quick turn through my Mental Accent Amplifier (MAA) reveals that I’m actually saying something like

“Zee U.S. ees ree-vorrrming eetz – how you say? – hey-lth see-stem.”

Also, because my Chinese is far from perfect, I sometimes rely on simplistic synonyms to express myself. For example, instead of saying "I'm so sore after climbing that mountain yesterday. My legs feel like jello." I end up saying something like: "Yey-sterday I climb maunt-in. Too-day very sore. Mai leygs are laik a coh-stard day-zert."

I think I finally get why people are always laughing when I talk…

Like Music

There are many things one would prefer not to hear from the person preparing and serving your food, but I would say high up on the list is "I have a fever", followed by a series of muffled sniffles and a vigorous throat clearing.

We'll see if my newly strengthened immune system is up for the challenge.

Om

I love visiting Buddhist monasteries.

For me, the main attraction isn’t the quiet charm of a peaceful courtyard, or the humbling awe of seeing an enormous gold statue. No, for me, the best part is seeing the monks themselves.

With their shaved heads and long robes, monks are easy to spot. More often than not, they are wandering around the monastery, or perhaps trying to keep annoying tourists like me from snapping photos of holy images. But if you’re lucky, you can spot monks engaging in un-monk-like behavior. I am always on the watch for these moments.

The other day, I hit the jackpot. Not only did I spot an elderly monk enjoying a cold bottle of Coke, and a younger monk sporting a stylish Nike t-shirt under his robes, but I also happened upon this:

It is exactly what it looks like: a group of monks struggling to move a giant Buddha across the monastery. As the group made their way across the courtyard (“You! Watch the head!” “Okay, now turn! Turn!”), one monk happened to lose a shoe in the shuffle. Ever on the lookout, I spotted this immediately, and rushed to help. After delivering the shoe to its rightful owner, I was treated to a bunch of goofy monk grins, a hesitant “thank you?” in English, and embarrassed giggles all around.

No sirs, thank you.

The very next day, I headed out to Shaolin Monastery, famed home of the…wait for it…Shaolin monks, known worldwide for their amazing kung fu skills. Because of their glowing reputation and commitment to excellence, many parents send their sons to the monastery to be trained from a very young age.

Lots of young monks, of course, means lots of unruly behavior. My hopes were high, and as it turned out, I was not disappointed. During my visit, I saw several teenage monks playing a heated game of basketball, including one show-off who kept stealing the ball to engage in some fancy dribbling. Even more exciting, two young monks, apparently late for dinner, decided to skip the stairs and instead “surf” wildly down the stone ramp next to the stairs. After they’d gone, I noticed that the ramp was worn completely smooth, I can only assume from hundreds of years of young monk hooligans trying to make it to meals on time.

The highlight of my trip to Shaolin, however, came right as I was leaving the compound. I was walking down the road leading from the monastery to the visitors’ parking lot, when suddenly a motorcycle zipped past me, going well above the speed limit. As I looked to see who could possibly be driving so fast, imagine my joy at seeing two monks at the wheel, their orange robes billowing in the wind.

The perfect end to a perfect day.

Boys will be boys

As I’ve mentioned in the past, things in China are more gender segregated than they are in the U.S., so until now, my opportunities to observe young Chinese males in their natural habitat have been fairly limited. My recent trip to Hangzhou changed that for me. I was lucky enough to stay with friends of friends, who just happened to be twenty-something guys living on their own. It was truly an enlightening experience. Here’s what you need to know about Chinese boys.

Like American boys, Chinese boys enjoy watching basketball, listening to music, and playing video games. The NBA is especially popular here. Because an evening game in the U.S. translates to an early morning game in China, it is not uncommon for a committed Chinese fan to wake up early to watch the game in real time. Lebron James (“Jay-mee-suh”), Kobe Bryant (“Kuh-bee”), and of course Yao Ming (“Yao Ming”) enjoy an especially large following here.

In addition to these more traditional pastimes, Chinese guys also enjoy sharing seduction techniques and flaunting the law by downloading pornography—illegal in this country. I’m not especially versed in the pornographic preferences of American males, but I have to say that Chinese guys seem to have a well-rounded collection, including flicks from the U.S., Russia, Korea, and Japan, in addition to domestically produced films. Because there is no formal sex-ed in China, the fundamentals of intercourse are learned by frequent viewings of these educational aides.

In addition to their worldly tastes in erotica, Chinese boys are different from American boys in their affection for one another. Unlike in the U.S., where anything more than a friendly punch is socially unacceptable, Chinese boys enjoy the occasional hug or a casual hand on the shoulder. Or thigh.

A cigarette is also a must-have accessory for the hip Chinese male.

In fact, a pack of smokes and a lighter make up the majority of the contents of the ever-popular “man bag”.

While certain aspects of Chinese male culture would certainly not fly in the U.S., I find that despite these minor surface differences, boys really are all the same. It all boils down to sports, video games, girls, and a universal hatred of doing laundry. Be honest. Are you surprised?

I’m not.

Social Lubricant

To survive socially in China, I have found that you must have at least a rudimentary knowledge of Chinese card games. In Shandong, one of the most popular games is a complicated game for six players that involves the use of no less than four decks of cards. Needless to say, I have failed to master this game. Instead, I focus my efforts on the most popular game in the country, “Land Owner”, a simple three-player game very similar to the American game “Asshole”. Ever true to their Communist roots, the Chinese version entails one person being assigned the powerful role of Land Owner, while the other two “citizens” work together to prevent him from winning.

Playing cards is an essential part of traveling by train. Not only does it offer relief from the relentless tedium, but it also provides a service to those around you by presenting them with five-star entertainment. The sound of cards being shuffled is seemingly irresistible to anyone within a twenty foot radius—an audience gathers fast, and onlookers are not content to just watch, they also offer unsolicited advice on strategy. I once had the honor of having an eight year old boy lead me in a five game winning streak. It was a humbling experience.

If you plan on playing cards in China, in addition to the rules of the game, it is also important to know how to place your cards on the table. A casual toss or flick of the wrist is unacceptable, as is a crisp and precise placement in the middle of the pile. No, when playing Chinese cards, only a triumphant slapdown will win you respect. I’m talking a ninety-degree rotation of the shoulder, from above your head to the table, and a resounding smack when the card hits the table. Bonus points if you inadvertently send already-played cards flying to the floor with the force of your play.

As an indicator of my elevated social status, I have played cards in all manner of locales, including on a boat:

On a mountain:

and by a river:

Tomorrow morning I will be boarding a train headed to Kaifeng, the ancient capital of China. In preparation for the journey, I have purchased a new deck.

Relativity

One of the many perks of living in Jinan is that it makes any other city in the world seem like paradise. Hangzhou was no exception. To fully appreciate the joy and amazement I felt wandering around that beautiful city, you need to understand where I’ve been living for the past year. Therefore, today I offer you a visual compare and contrast between Hangzhou (insert angels singing here), and Jinan (insert deep rumbling here). Prepare to be awed.

In Jinan, the closest body of water is the cesspool in front of campus.

In Hangzhou, the closest body of water is the legendary Western Lake.

In Jinan, this is typical roadside scenery.

In Hangzhou, the streets are lined with green areas like this one.

In Jinan, you can’t see the city for the pollution.

In Hangzhou, the sky is blue blue blue.

A typical Jinan insect: the mosquito.

A typical Hangzhou insect: the dragonfly.

A typical college dorm room in Jinan has six to eight students stuffed in a tiny room.

College students in Hangzhou have their own rooms.

Which city would you rather live in?

Chillaxing

Now that the university has mostly emptied of both students and teachers, the atmosphere here on campus is much more laidback than it is during the school year. You may be wondering how I've been spending my free time. On any given day, you may find me...

1. Searching for the perfect shade of pink.

2. Introducing my friends to whiskey and coke. (A huge hit here, by the way.)

3. Partaking of Jinan delicacies such as the famous (and aptly named) "oil pancakes".

4. Perusing local markets in search of a bathing suit that is modest enough to wear in a conservative country like China, while also trying to avoid purchasing anything that my grandmother might be willing to wear (sorry Grand).

5. Finding spelling mistakes on billboards.

7. Spooning.

And tomorrow I'm hopping a 13 hour train ride headed for Hangzhou, supposedly one of the most beautiful cities in China. I'll let you know if it lives up to my lofty expectations...