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.