Good American

Do you recognize these dashing young men? No??? Tsk tsk. This is Westlife, of course. The popular Irish boy band. Any self-respecting American should know that.

Just as we have certain expectations of what it means to be Chinese, so do the Chinese have certain expectations of what it is to be American. Unfortunately, I have an unpleasant tendency to violently crush these expectations. While my appearance is generally satisfactory ("yellow hair! blue eyes! oooo!"), my taste in music and TV leave much to be desired.

One of the main ways in which I fall short as an American is my limited knowledge of essential cultural references. Take music for example. A "good" American would know the words to all Mariah Carey songs, and be willing to sing them on cue. I do not, and am not. A good American would be familiar with the collected works of both Westlife (sooo hot right now) and the Backstreet Boys. I am not.

My TV watching preferences are also problematic. While I am eager to keep up with the latest episodes of "The Office" and "30 Rock", I am less than familiar with "Desperate Housewives" and "Grey's Anatomy", and am therefore unable to either vouch for or against their veracity. The situation had gotten so dire that by Chinese New Year I was quite literally shamed into watching "Prison Break", a local favorite among young Chinese of both genders. My popularity has skyrocketed as a result.

Another area in which I am seriously deficient is my lack of enthusiasm for basketball. I am often able to fake my way through a conversation in this arena by embellishing stories about my one experience seeing Yao Ming play in Boston, but the sad truth is that I know very little about NBA teams or players. When I confess to this personality flaw, faces fall. Smiles fade away. In short, I am a huge disappointment.

That's why it was so rewarding to have two American boys tagging along with me for the past week. Street vendor wants to talk basketball? No problem! I'll just ask the guys! I now have a standing invitation to a home-cooked meal in Shanghai, largely due to my ability to make small talk with a local cab driver.

Now I just need to find a big Mariah Carey fan to follow me around, and I'm all set.

Scandalous

It's official. Spring has arrived in Jinan. Flowers are budding, and the trees on campus look like they're floating in clouds of pale green. The heat was officially turned off on the 15th, and I don't even mind. The basketball courts are once again filled with students until 10:30 at night, and girls all carry around their badminton rackets since it's finally nice enough to play again. The past few days have been sunny and temperatures have been hovering around 80.

But all is not well in paradise. The environment is right, but something is missing. Something important.

Spring clothing.

Apparently, the Chinese believe that temperatures lower than 90 degrees demand sweatshirts, winter boots, and heavy pants. At least, that's what they're wearing around campus these days.

Needless to say, I find this completely unacceptable.

Because I refuse to wear winter clothing on a perfect spring day, I have been quite literally turning heads on campus. Is it my stunning beauty? Do I have food on my face? No. It's because I wore (dun dun DUN) a skirt! Short sleeves! Shoes that aren't sneakers! This apparently makes me a radical. Teachers in my office cautioned me against catching cold. (Um, it's 80 degrees.) My friends gushed over how beautiful I looked. (Apparently my winter clothing is hideous). Several boys did comical, yet sincere, double takes as I walked by.

Of course, all of this unwanted attention makes me rather uncomfortable, but I refuse to sacrifice my values and comfort to conform to ridiculous clothing standards. I'm not wearing anything scandalous. Just seasonally appropriate. An informal poll suggests that spring clothing does not come out on campus until May 1.

There is no way I'm waiting that long.

The weaker sex

Shandong University is split into six campuses which are spread across the city of Jinan. I'm on the Western campus with the medical students. In other words, I'm on the nerdy campus. These guys are stuck in school for five years instead of four, and seem to enjoy waking up at the crack of dawn to stand outside in the cold memorizing the names of body parts in a variety of languages.

Luckily, we are just a fifteen minute walk away from the Southern campus. The students in the Southern campus are...wait for it...gym majors. In other words, they're a bunch of tall hunky guys with a lot of free time. Many of my med student friends were busy this weekend, so I was more than a little excited to receive a call from a gym major friend of mine inviting me to accompany him and his equally hunky roommate on a two day hike up a famous mountain.

Um, yes please!

I had two days of nervous anticipation (which jacket? how many snacks? which backpack?). And then, in the middle of the night, waking me up from a pleasant dream, I got a text. Cancelling! I was disappointed, but fine, whatever, things come up. This afternoon, however, my insecurities went on red alert when I got a call from one of the guys asking if he could borrow my camera for the weekend. Gee, what could you need my camera for? I was polite and all, but seriously? No way my camera is going up that mountain if I'm not!

The kicker came this evening, with another text "clearing things up". I guess they realized they'd botched things up with the camera question. And I'm not sure if I feel better or worse for knowing the real reason for getting voted off the island. This is the text I received (translated, of course):

Alexis - I'm so sorry, originally we wanted to go together, with my roommate too, but now he's not going and I can't watch out for two girls all by myself. Climbing the mountain is extremely difficult. It's too bad about this time, there will be another chance soon.

So apparently, being a girl, I'm too weak to make it up the mountain without help. Hm. Yeah. Even though I know this is like, the Chinese way and all, I still pretty much just wanted to punch him. I don't get to go because they think I'm a pathetic weakling?? Hmph. He's skinny - I could totally take him. But, you know what? Whatevs. Instead? Tomorrow I get free sweet potatoes, and on Sunday I'm going to the all-boys campus where they wish they could go mountain climbing with girls. So there.

TV

If my time in Sichuan taught me anything, it's that Chinese families love watching TV. The TV is often turned on first thing in the morning, and remains on until the last person goes to bed. It stays on during meals, and is the focal piece of the living room. What could possibly be so riveting, you ask? Kung fu soap operas! These dramatic mini-series, set in imperial China, feature "classic" tales of love and glory, as well as actors that seem to have been chosen based solely on their ability to widen and narrow their eyes.

Every few hours or so, there's a short break from these exciting adventures and the news is broadcast. The first fifteen minutes of every thirty minute segment is devoted to canned images of President Hu Jintao smiling and cordially shaking hands with various foreign dignitaries. Sometimes, just to mix it up, he'll be shown surrounded by smiling children. But mostly, it's him nodding wisely at a long conference table, while the news anchor says something like "President Hu met with such-and-such leader today, and pledged his support for the continued good relationship between the two countries." Oh good. Because I worried that something was actually happening in the world.

When the "real" news comes on in the second half of the segment, the nationalist propaganda machine really starts churning. Did you know that nothing bad ever happens in China? The rest of the world may be corrupt and evil, but China is always working hard to clean up other people's mistakes. Bird flu? Psh - who cares about the health threat to humans and livestock! The important thing is that friendly and concerned government officials are making "strong and effective efforts to contain the disease".

With these attractive viewing options, it's no wonder that family life revolves around the TV.

Interior decorating

While the sterile white walls of my dorm room are attractive in their own right, and the diarrhea-gold of my curtains adds a homey touch, I've felt for some time now that my room could use an extra dash of personality. Luckily, I have watched enough design-themed reality TV shows to know that the best designs are made using nothing but everyday household items. Therefore, using only a couple of pre-installed hooks and a few pieces of second-hand tape, I was able to assemble some of my favorite "pieces" into a cohesive design. My theme? The animal kingdom. Among those featured:

A large, plush dolphin.

A smiling pink flower. (technically not an "animal", but close enough)

A framed photo of me and a man in a penguin suit.

An ice cream advertisement featuring a cheerful lamb.

Qi-zai, the loveable puppy-like alien featured in a popular children's movie.

Who says I don't have an eye for style?

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.