Fainting, handshakes, cellphones

Monday, August 25 2008

Jet lag has many effects; one of course is waking up early. I am 13hrs ahead of Chicago. The future is pretty sweet but there aren't any hover cars, I'll keep you posted. I wake up on the couch in the living room because the AC isn't powerful enough to cool the entire apartment but enough to keep the living room pleasantly cool.

Today Jackie, Marta, and I hit the streets for an early breakfast. We stop at two places. The first is a street vendor selling pancakes filled with egg. The pancake is better described as a pita. It is folded in half and smeared with ma on one side, la on the other. Ma is a spice and la is a hot pepper. La means hot tasting and jiao is chili pepper; so lajiao is hot pepper. Also within the fold of the pita are cabbage and a carrot-like vegetable. This breakfast pastry is absolutely delicious. The next stop is a breakfast restaurant on the corner of a morning market. The restaurant spills over onto the street. The food preparation is indoors and tables are set out on the sidewalk and street. This place served hot dumplings stuffed with meat or veggies. We get our dumplings and porridge and take a seat at the knee-high tables. The stool is so low that I feel like I am squatting for a poop. After we eat we return home and wait for Guhuang, our student guide, to take us to the bank and get a cell phone.

Process and Paperwork best describe the bank. We grabbed some sheet to request an account. We then waited in line to learn that we needed a copy of our passport. We walked down a couple store fronts to find an internet/computer cafe. On our way down a very excited old man pooped out of a store front to say "Hello, Hello!" He shakes my hand then Marta's then mine then Marta's. I'm not sure how long this hand shaking would continue but Guhuang was there to shoo him off and direct us into the cafe. It is not that the man is a bother; he is just persistent. We returned to the bank line and initiated the process of opening an account. The man behind the glass must be new. He looked at our passports and papers and looked at us and back at the passports and paper work. He looked to his neighbor and back at us. Then, he stood up and walked off. About five minutes later he returned and looked at us and then the paperwork and then his computer screen and pressed a couple of buttons. I think the button pressing was an act. Next, a women from around the corner approached and looked at the passports and paperwork and then at us and back at the passports and paperwork. She then took the passports and paperwork and walked away. The man pushed a couple more buttons. The women returned with new checkbooks. Now they both looked at the passports and paperwork and checkbooks and us and back at the passports and paperwork and checkbooks. I'm sure by now you are thinking what I am thinking. There is an awful lot of NOT work being done. Let me fast forward an hour. There are now three people looking at the passports and paperwork and checkbooks and us. The man looks up and spouts something off in Chinese and I look at him blankly. After an hour and a half we have not made much progress. Guhuang comes over and translates for me. He had asked, "Do I want to deposit USD or RMB." I want RMB because I will be here for a full year and have little use for USD. He says, "Hao" That means OK. The looking went on for a couple more minutes until the third person goes in back and grabs the USD counter. Did I mention it’s hot in the bank?

It’s hot in the bank. So hot that Guhuang starts to look pale. I ask if she is OK. She says she is fine. She doesn't look fine. I ask her to sit down. We seemed to be wrapping up the process and my Chinese is good enough to understand "sign here" and "enter PIN." Her condition deteriorated and she looked very ill. Bowing her head and sitting back in the chair in exhaustion Marta and I began to worry. Again we ask if she is OK and she replied that she was feeling a little weak because she hadn't eaten yet today. Not to mention that she had been translating in a dreadfully hot bank for the past two hours. Now, if ever you have seen anyone faint you would recognize the moment just before they go down. She began to wobble, her eyes rolled back, and down she goes. I am too late to catch her as we were divided by a rope barrier. Fortunately we are able to get her back on her feet and stabilized on a bench in the corner. Marta rushes across the street for something cool and sugary. Again, fortunately the Process and Paperwork is almost complete. We both have our bank accounts and only need to exchange our USD. Of course this requires a little more Process and Paperwork. Finally, we are done and can move on to lunch and insure Guhuang has some time to rest before showing us the campus and around town.

Over lunch I recalled two Chinese cultural notes. What is a better way of phrasing that, "cultural notes?" First, filial piety. A Confucius idea that is to show love for one's parents or ancestors. This idea is transferred to work. There is a strong sense of duty held by Chinese to do well for there parents and by that do well in there job. I believe that although Guhuang was feeling weak and ill she felt a strong duty or responsibility to ensure we, the visitors, were taken care of.

The next task for the day is to get cell phones. Not as much Process and Paperwork here. Cell phones here are very inexpensive. Partly due to cost of living and partly due to the ancient 2000 phone I purchased. Remember the basic cell phone? Not too big, but not paper thin. No camera, but equipped with Tetris. Also recall that these cell phones could hold a charge. For days in fact! So I sacrifice the bells and whistles but get something practical, reliable, and sturdy. After the whole bank ordeal, lunch, cell phone, and a brief campus tour I am Jet-lag tired.

I wake up around 6p this evening and join Marta for dinner at the night market. We are uncertain about the food around here so we look for something simple. To my right is a street vendor with sticks of veggies, meats, and something. Looks simple enough. We approach the stand and a young man wearing a Lakers jersey stands up to assist. He knows a little English and explains to us the process of ordering. Typically you select 2 kuai worth of meat and veggies, about 6 sticks. The young woman cooking places the selections into a broth, adds some seasoning, lets simmer and you have yourself a delicious bowl of soup! After our light dinner we continued roaming around the market and scoped out the shops before returning home for some much needed rest.

Never be in a hurry; feel free to push

Sunday, August 24 2008

I’ll spare the details of my flights. They are typical and long. The flight from Seattle to Beijing enters on the night of the 2008 Olympic closing ceremonies. Fortunately, this had little effect on our travels. Beijing airport is extremely spread out. The terminals are separated by a 10-20 minute bus ride. After some tricky interpretation and assistance from a help desk or two Marta, my travel partner, and I found the correct terminal and ticket counter. It is at this very moment that I learn my first China lesson; never be in a hurry and always feel free to push.

The ticket counters look much like those found in the States. Sitting behind the counter are disgruntled employees who spend their entire day sorting out everyone else’s problems or mistakes and absorbing the impatient attitudes. Above the counter are electronic signs flashing entirely too much information to comprehend in the brief moment it is presented. Unlike the States, there is not a single line. The set up is more like a McDonalds. Although there is clearly a specific number of registers, somehow multiple lines form and overlap and collide until there is a large mass of people pushing and shoving and ramming there fucking baggage cart into your ankles. Yeah, lady behind me, the reason your cart won’t move forward any more is because it’s hitting the back of my fucking ankles and yes I would like to move forward but there are five people in front of me and yes I wish they would move forward but I already tried the ramming technique and guess what…

It didn’t fucking work! Now that we have established that the line only moves forward when a transaction is completed we can discuss selecting the line, or in the case of Beijing, selecting the mass of sweaty people. Your best bet, like in the U.S., is to get behind the business women and lone travelers who will not be checking any bags today. Avoid, I repeat, AVOID families at all costs. They are handicapped. For the airline attendant it must be like putting together an entertainment stand from IKEA. It is a simple design. However, you are given the wrong tools, extra screws, and one side is just a little longer than the other. Also, avoid old people. This is a pretty general rule. Old people are slow, enough said. Oh, and this is very important! If you are behind someone in a matching Addidas warm-up suit, get out of line immediately. This is what is known as a line holder. They are sneaky. They are secretly holding a place in line for their entire athletic team who are hiding in the BK lounge. The line holder will fuck your day.

The pushing to nowhere continues at Gate C54. The flight from Beijing to Zhenzhou is at a satellite gate so we all have to cram into a bus and be driven out to the tarmac. The impatient travelers heard onto the bus pushing and shoving as much as possible. I feel like a cow lead to slaughter. We get to the plane and pour out of the bus and push and shove to get on the plane. It is so hectic. I don’t understand the rush. We have assigned seats and there is no reward for getting to your seat first. This event isn’t a cultural thing it’s a human thing. I don’t get it.

I have an aisle seat and across from me is an older American man. I strike up conversation and learn that he too is teaching English here in China. He works for Henan University, the same school but at a different location. He told me I would be very happy with my apartment and amenities. This is his fifth year teaching in China and he really enjoys it. It is not long into the flight that the passenger next to me utilized her barf bag. The flight is a little bumpy but not terrible. She must be easily sickened by motion. A few minutes later the young women kitty-corner behind me is puking, then the women in front of me and then the man in front of her. As the flight attendants collect our drink cups I noticed they had collected quite a few barf bags and I was only 5 rows back. I leaned over to the American and asked if he had ever observed so many people puking on flights. He tells me that it was not uncommon. Apparently Chinese people are very susceptible to motion sickness. I speculate that traveling by car, boat, or plane is new to many people in China. After all, I do believe I am a third generation car driver. Hmf.