Well, not quite

Okay, despite my grandiose claims of assimilation, I have to admit there are many things in this country that continue to baffle me. For example, this:

Yes, that's right. My friends eat their bananas upside-down.

In addition, I am frequently mocked for wearing a seat belt, and people think I'm kinda spoiled because I wash the vast majority of my clothes in the washing machine instead of by hand. I've been told that I'm too liberal with my compliments, I refuse to carry a parasol (!) to protect myself from the sun's rays, and I eat my food waaaay too slowly. Also, while I am fairly nimble with my chopsticks, apparently I have a death grip hold on them that has become the object of numerous jokes.

Then there are my ridiculous (endearing?) linguistic mistakes. A few gems:

"Ooo - this song is really good looking."

"I usually take out my eyeballs before going to sleep."

"We can make popcorn in the turnip!"

And, my personal favorite:

"Excuse me, do you sell ass lotion here?"

Clearly, I have a long way to go.

Assimilation

It's happening.

I don't know why I didn't see it before -- the signs have been there for a while now. My reluctance to eat peanuts with anything besides chopsticks. The speed with which I can crack open a sunflower seed with my teeth. Outrage at the thought of missing my afternoon nap.

I'm turning Chinese.

This was really brought home to me when I came back from Sichuan last week. Suddenly, the bathroom that I complained about just a few months ago seemed luxurious. A shower! With hot water! It felt great to take that first shower in my own bathroom. But it felt weird to take one again the very next day. It just felt... a little...too soon. Hm...

The next sign was that I felt that my bed was a little bit too soft. I found myself thinking with longing of the wooden platform cushioned with a blanket that served as my bed in Sichuan. When visiting my friend's dorm room yesterday, I realized that I was looking with greedy eyes at the wooden plank that is her bed. Hm...

Afterwards, when I got back to my dorm room, I started to make a list of the things that I do here that I would never do at home. Here's what I came up with:

- I often drink my beverages out of a bowl, as opposed to out of a cup.

- I know better than to look for a seat belt in the back seats of cars.

- I use a tiny scrap of tissue as a napkin after meals.

- If there is a saucer on the table at dinner, I know it is for refuse, not for food.

- I never ever ever let my purse touch the floor.

- I have a small plastic monkey hanging off of my cell phone. And I think it's cool.

- I link arms with my girlfriends when we walk around outside.

- I don't go Dutch. Either I pay for everyone, or someone else pays for everyone.

- I walk in the street, not on the sidewalk.

- I spit seeds, pits, and husks directly onto the ground.

- I slurp loudly when consuming any liquid, including soup and noodles.

- I feel totally comfortable commenting on someone's weight or complexion.

Things really came to a head this afternoon, when I went ahead and purchased the two crucial items that stand between "foreigners" and Chinese: a giant thermos, and a large plastic bowl.

The thermos is a godsend. It can keep water steaming for hours, so I don't have to trek upstairs to the water boiler every time I want a glass of water. Because drinking water colder than room temperature is simply unacceptable.

The bowl is a multi-purpose necessity. It can be used to wash clothing by hand, which I need to do because the washing machine has a nasty habit of creating pills on all of my tights and sweaters. More importantly, it can be used to soak one's feet in hot water before hopping into bed. No one, and I mean no one, goes to bed here without soaking their feet first.

Including me.

Old school

Today I went roller skating with some friends. No, not roller blading. Roller skating.

The rink was on the fifth floor of a run-down building with no elevator. Our skates were brown and weathered, with laces that had already fallen apart and been "repaired" by tying two broken strings together. The wheels were the classic 1970s orange.

When we arrived, the rink was all but empty. I had resigned myself to a sad affair, with the five of us wobbling around the rink at a snail’s pace for an hour before getting bored and leaving.

How wrong I was.

Just a few minutes after we got there, the regulars arrived, in the form of high school dropouts with punk haircuts, low slung jeans, wife beaters, black jackets, and cigarettes dangling from their lips.

Oh. My. God.

Within seconds, these "street toughs" were actually holding hands and dancing around the rink. At first, it started out simple. They zipped around at lightning speed, forwards, backwards, changing direction like it was the easiest thing in the world. Their footwork was seriously worthy of Olympic figure skating. Crossovers, twirls, skips, jumps. And this was just the warm-up.

Soon, whole chains of guys started racing around the rink together. Like, five or six of them holding hands and going super fast. The rink was shaped like a track, with two poles in the middle: one at each end. When they got to a pole, the person on the inside grabbed it and whipped the whole chain around, sending the person on the outside flying around the curve. I was lucky enough to join one of these chains at one point, and let me tell you. It’s damn scary. And I was towards the inside.

Other craziness ensued. For example, girls who fell down and pretended to not want to get back up would be picked up by several guys on skates and dragged kicking and screaming to a mountain of boxes piled in a corner, where they would be deposited without ceremony.

The coolest thing though, was when this bad-ass guy wearing army pants (and who totally could have played Bill Sykes in “Oliver”) grabbed both hands of some girl and started spinning around in a circle. After a few seconds of this, the girl fell on her stomach, and I thought the “game” had come to an unfortunate end, but the guy kept spinning and eventually the girl became airborne, flying around him as he spun wildly around on his skates. The entire rink had stopped skating and gathered around to watch and cheer. The guy never even took his cigarette out of his mouth.

A far cry from doing the hokey-pokey at a third grade birthday party, huh?

Meat market

I've had ample opportunity over the past month to accompany my friend’s parents as they purchase meat for the various family banquets. The meat section of the grocery stores here is not for the faint-hearted. This is not the deli section of your local Stop & Shop.

Let me set the scene. Heavy, black metal hooks hanging from the ceiling. Buckets of blood splashing around by your feet. Beaks. Snouts. Toenails. Trotters. There is an entire section devoted solely to internal organs. Whether mashed, chopped, or intact and hanging from hooks, everything from intestines to liver to kidneys can be found here, just waiting to be gently stir fried and eagerly consumed.

If you don’t feel like braving the crowds at the supermarket, you can head on down to the outdoor meat market. Here, you can find full pig carcasses hanging on meat hooks, right next to butchers chopping up their innards. Feel free to poke and prod at the meat to ascertain its quality. Just keep in mind that others have done the same.

In addition to this “hands on” inspection, you can observe others enjoying the meat you are thinking about purchasing. I’m referring of course to the many dogs and flies that are living the good life at the market here. Don’t worry about sanitation though. Shoppers and sellers alike make sure to aim their giant globules of mucus away from the food, as opposed to directly towards it.

Local flair

Have you ever seen anything like this before?


Apparently it's the cool thing to do here in Mianyang.

Exotic

Being the only Westerner around, I have the dubious honor of being able to turn heads wherever I go. Small children nudge each other and point at me. Adults will stare for uncomfortably long periods of time, and a brave few will shout "hello?" and then run off giggling.

I often feel like I live in a zoo.

An advantage of this unwanted attention is that I get to collect interesting comments about my appearance. My "big nose" and "yellow hair" are favorite topics of conversation. People I've just met feel totally comfortable running their fingers through my hair and asking if it's fake.

The vast majority of people that I meet have never seen a non-Chinese person before. One guy, after staring awkwardly for a while, finally said, with awe, "I can't believe you're standing here in front of me!" as if I'm some sort of movie star or exotic animal. He then proposed that we take a photo together so he could show his family because (and I quote) "they are NOT going to believe this!" One energetic youngster, zipping past on one of those fancy two-wheeled skateboard things doubled back when he caught sight of me and then skated circles around me shouting "A foreigner! A foreigner! Grandma! Look at the foreigner!"

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. The only foreigners most Chinese people see are on TV or in ads, like this woman, featured prominently at the local WalMart:


If I saw that walking down the street, I guess I'd stare too.

On a budget

In these tight times, a lot of people are starting to cut back. Fewer luxuries, a return to the basics. Well, I can help! By ceasing to pay for heat and hot water, you can save up to hundreds of dollars each month. If you follow these simple steps, you can be like me, and happily live without these “elitist” luxuries.

Step 1: Layers. I regularly walk around wearing two pairs of pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, a sweatshirt, and my winter coat. Hat and gloves are optional. Don’t bother with pajamas – taking your clothes off to change is too cold. Just strip off your coat and your top layer before diving under the covers.

Step 2: Invest in a good kettle. When you really need hot water, you can just boil some on the stove and pour it into a big bowl. Mix in some cold tap water and voila! Warm water! This can be used for washing dishes, your face, your hair, or your body in general.

Step 3: Find a bed buddy. I share a bed with my friend, and it is not uncommon to find us cuddled together in the mornings. She especially enjoys it when I wake her up by putting my icy toes on her leg.

Step 4: Heavy blankets. If you can’t find yourself a bed buddy (or even if you can), several good blankets are essential. The ones I sleep under are so heavy that I have a hard time lifting my legs up when I’m under them.

Step 5 (opt.): Small space heater. This is by no means essential, but if you’ve come this far, you deserve a little treat. It should only be used in the evenings though!

Congratulations, you’re now ready to live without heat and hot water. It may be a bit rough at the beginning, but the savings will pay off in the long run.