It's interesting to note that people here don't really use the phrase, "movie theater." They instead say "cinema," since that's what they're taught in textbooks. Incidentally, both are pretty hard for Chinese people to pronounce. I wanted to share my experience of going to the theater, mostly because it left us puzzled. The theaters here are about the same as theaters back home. They have the same decor, sell the same snacks, and show movies on similarly sized screens. An average movie costs 38 yuan, which amounts to five dollars and change. There's a limit on how many foreign films can be shown every year in China, with the most mainstream making the cut, and there's usually one version with Chinese subtitles and one with dubbed voices. The Chinese love to dub.
A few of us went to see Iron Man 2, and, as with many films here, there was some mild censorship. You might be expecting me to decry the fact that free speech is suppressed, artistic expression stifled, etc., but really, it didn't affect my enjoyment of the movie--it was just odd. Scenes that included the landscape and language of Russia were left intact, but the English word "Russia" and any variations thereof were either removed or electronically garbled:
http://shanghaiist.com/2010/05/09/chinas_bizarre_censorship_of_iron_m_1.php
I've seen a couple of other movies in Wuhan, but the editing wasn't nearly as noticeable. And in general, I sort of understand the reasoning behind it, but this particular case is hard to explain. Maybe I should go out and pick up the bootleg DVD, for comparison's sake. They're usually good copies, if you don't mind the lower quality. And the typos on the packaging are always hilarious.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
This Is Actually Really Accurate
http://thefastertimes.com/china/2010/03/03/the-11-foreigners-you-meet-in-china/
Thanks to Jeff for the comment on the previous post. Gross.
Thanks to Jeff for the comment on the previous post. Gross.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Bureaucracy At Its Finest?
I'll preface this by saying that the blog was never meant as a place to go and vent frustrations with China. Living here, there are always going to be certain natural grievances, as well as places to air those grievances, most notably in the company of other foreigners, perhaps over a glass of wine, if you're feeling classy. Anyway, most problems can and should be shrugged off. But I'm writing this post in part to show my continued disbelief at the school administration here and how it can function on a daily basis.
1. During the semester break, my Chinese co-teacher emailed my finalized class schedule to me. On the Monday of the week before I was to begin teaching, I was contacted by someone else at the school and told that I was getting more classes, and that I had to begin teaching that Friday (what they called "week 0," since it was technically before the start of the new semester).
2. My new class was called "Oral English for IELTS." Though they gave me the title, time and place, the actual point of the class must not have seemed to them like pertinent information. I later found out, after asking a Chinese co-teacher, that IELTS is an English-language proficiency test for students who want to go abroad. It would be my job to "train" them.
3. After a couple of weeks of teaching this class, I was told I would suddenly have to start emailing weekly performance evaluations of each student to my boss.
4. The same guy who gave me those classes contacted me again the second week, to tell me that I would get another class that would start "around week 3" (it actually started week 4). This one is called "Oral English for Faculty Members." Again, no real explanation. I tried to tell him that I didn't think I was qualified to teach actual professors, since I would certainly be the youngest, least educated person in the room. This fact didn't seem to matter.
5. On the first day of teaching the faculty, about 5 or 10 minutes in, my boss interrupted class to pull me into the hall, give me a few pointers, and ask, "So, how's it going so far?"
6. About a week ago, I got a call from the Vice-Dean of the English Department, the guy who I believe is responsible for scheduling a lot of these new classes. He was calling to ask if I could teach on weekends. This was late on a Friday afternoon. When he began to plead with me in earnest, I then asked, "When do these classes begin?" Not surprisingly, he said, "Tomorrow."
7. This weekend is a three-day Chinese national holiday, Qingming Jie, or "Tomb Sweeping Day." Like a lot of traditions here, it has to do with ancestor worship, but the important thing is that no one goes to work. I just got an email from my co-teacher informing me that my Saturday classes will go on as scheduled.
8. (Update) When I showed up to teach on Saturday, there were no students. A Chinese professor called me after the class had started, asking if I knew that I was supposed to be at work right then. Apparently, the room assignment had changed. I hadn't been told this, but all the students knew somehow, and I guess one of them must have tipped off the professor to the fact that I wasn't there.
If some of the above seems a little overblown, that's fair, but I think it paints a picture. Others have had similar experiences. What bothers me isn't the increased workload--my job really isn't that hard. It's the way in which they went about it. Last-minute scheduling, weekend hours, pilot programs-- these are things I would expect from a small start-up company, not a state-run university.
And all of it done via email, phone call--even text message--without ever having a single, face-to-face meeting. Just blows my mind.
1. During the semester break, my Chinese co-teacher emailed my finalized class schedule to me. On the Monday of the week before I was to begin teaching, I was contacted by someone else at the school and told that I was getting more classes, and that I had to begin teaching that Friday (what they called "week 0," since it was technically before the start of the new semester).
2. My new class was called "Oral English for IELTS." Though they gave me the title, time and place, the actual point of the class must not have seemed to them like pertinent information. I later found out, after asking a Chinese co-teacher, that IELTS is an English-language proficiency test for students who want to go abroad. It would be my job to "train" them.
3. After a couple of weeks of teaching this class, I was told I would suddenly have to start emailing weekly performance evaluations of each student to my boss.
4. The same guy who gave me those classes contacted me again the second week, to tell me that I would get another class that would start "around week 3" (it actually started week 4). This one is called "Oral English for Faculty Members." Again, no real explanation. I tried to tell him that I didn't think I was qualified to teach actual professors, since I would certainly be the youngest, least educated person in the room. This fact didn't seem to matter.
5. On the first day of teaching the faculty, about 5 or 10 minutes in, my boss interrupted class to pull me into the hall, give me a few pointers, and ask, "So, how's it going so far?"
6. About a week ago, I got a call from the Vice-Dean of the English Department, the guy who I believe is responsible for scheduling a lot of these new classes. He was calling to ask if I could teach on weekends. This was late on a Friday afternoon. When he began to plead with me in earnest, I then asked, "When do these classes begin?" Not surprisingly, he said, "Tomorrow."
7. This weekend is a three-day Chinese national holiday, Qingming Jie, or "Tomb Sweeping Day." Like a lot of traditions here, it has to do with ancestor worship, but the important thing is that no one goes to work. I just got an email from my co-teacher informing me that my Saturday classes will go on as scheduled.
8. (Update) When I showed up to teach on Saturday, there were no students. A Chinese professor called me after the class had started, asking if I knew that I was supposed to be at work right then. Apparently, the room assignment had changed. I hadn't been told this, but all the students knew somehow, and I guess one of them must have tipped off the professor to the fact that I wasn't there.
If some of the above seems a little overblown, that's fair, but I think it paints a picture. Others have had similar experiences. What bothers me isn't the increased workload--my job really isn't that hard. It's the way in which they went about it. Last-minute scheduling, weekend hours, pilot programs-- these are things I would expect from a small start-up company, not a state-run university.
And all of it done via email, phone call--even text message--without ever having a single, face-to-face meeting. Just blows my mind.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
"What Chinese Censors Don’t Want You to Know"
At least once before, I've commented on the state of censorship in China. Even now, as I write this, I have to use a paid proxy service just to access the blog. This illustrates a couple of points: (1) They're clearly blocking websites that pose no real threat to the stability of the government or China as a whole, and (2) It's pretty easy to circumvent the measures they take to block these sites.
I wanted to post a link to a recent article that I just found online. To paraphrase the opening paragraph, it offers a strange and fascinating glimpse into the minds of those who censor the mass media in this country, showing in detail exactly which subjects are off limits to journalists. Enjoy.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/22/world/asia/22banned.html
P.S.- On a related note, I have been following the Google saga very closely, and though Google.cn is gone, I still have access to the U.S. site (via the proxy), as well as the Hong Kong site, to which Google users on the mainland are now redirected. But who knows how long that'll last.
I wanted to post a link to a recent article that I just found online. To paraphrase the opening paragraph, it offers a strange and fascinating glimpse into the minds of those who censor the mass media in this country, showing in detail exactly which subjects are off limits to journalists. Enjoy.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/22/world/asia/22banned.html
P.S.- On a related note, I have been following the Google saga very closely, and though Google.cn is gone, I still have access to the U.S. site (via the proxy), as well as the Hong Kong site, to which Google users on the mainland are now redirected. But who knows how long that'll last.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Overdue...
After much putting off and making excuses and taking criticism about the frequency (or infrequency) of posts here on the blog, I realized that the need to post something well-crafted and insightful is far outweighed by the need to post...well...something. So, here goes.
What follows are some representative pictures from the time I spent in Thailand. Obviously, it's been a few weeks since I got back, and I don't remember everything I did there. Plus, unlike last year, I spent all of my time in that one country (with the small exception of southern China). For those reasons, I think it'll be much more interesting if I arrange these pictures and descriptions thematically, rather than ramble on in chronological order. So that's what I'll do.
First, places to see in the capital, Bangkok.
This is Khaosan Road. We (the other teachers and I) spent a great deal of time here. It's a long pedestrian street near our guest house, and it was designed to be a sort of mecca for low-budget travelers. There were probably more foreigners walking around here than native Thai people. During the day, the place was lined with small shops, racks, and tables displaying all sorts of souvenir items--t-shirts, Thai fisherman pants, underwear, bathing suits, jewelry, fake watches, fake bags, fake documents, and all sorts of other touristy crap I can't remember, mostly because I wasn't interested in buying most of it.
There were always people here. At night, all the food vendors selling mostly Pad Thai and fried insects--I'll get to that later--came out to cater to the crowd filing in and out of the many bars on Khaosan. There were also many guest houses, so you could conceivably leave your room, go shopping, get some noodles, have a few drinks, and head off to bed without wasting any energy on walking. But I guess in Bangkok it's okay to save your strength, since the city has only two temperatures, hot and damn hot.
Above are some pictures of temples. I can tell you that Bangkok has a lot of temples. I know because I spent a lot of time walking around the city, and it was hard to look up from my map without seeing something big, white, and gold staring me in the face. In most of these you'll find some variety of Buddha standing, sitting, reclining, whatever, since I guess there are a lot of Buddhists around. This begs some comparisons to China. Though there are officially recognized faiths--Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, Catholicism, and Protestantism--and plenty of temples around, religion is the privately-practicing minority in China, and not in line with the ideals of Communism. It's only in recent years that the government has relaxed its once oppressive stance on religion. Thailand doesn't seem to care much, and I saw plenty of people openly worshiping at the feet of statues.
Another place to go, once you've finished with the Golden Buddha and the Giant Buddha and the Lucky Buddha and the Chubby, Smarmy, Reclining Buddha, is an open-air market. As you know, these things are all over Asia, but it never ceases to amaze me just how many different things can be crammed into one shantytown. This place was massive, and I actually got lost in all the narrow corridors and such, so it took me at least a half hour of wandering just to get out of there.
This is the art museum, located in the heart of the city. It's a really clean, modern building, and most importantly, it has air conditioning. I'd say my favorite part of the place was the top floor exhibit, which displayed elaborate submissions from architects who had competed to design the new house of parliament. For some reason, I really enjoy miniature models. I stumbled upon the museum while searching for the next destination, a different museum.
In case you don't know who Jim Thompson is (don't worry, I didn't either), he was an American businessman living in Bangkok in the 1950s and '60s. A talented designer and colorist, he's partly responsible for the worldwide popularity of Thai silk. He was also a collector of Thai artifacts, and before his mysterious and completely unexplained disappearance in Malaysia in 1967, he built himself one hell of a house in Bangkok dedicated entirely to Thai culture. I was able to walk through the house as he left it, but they don't let you take pictures.
The last major site that I'll mention is not actually in Bangkok, but a couple hours away by minibus. The top picture is from the museum that commemorates the building of the infamous Bridge on the River Kwai (and the brutality of the Japanese), and the middle pictures are of the bridge itself. Two things to note: standing next to me is my girlfriend Cathy, who joined me on the trip, and yes, I did end up shaving most of the animal fur off my face. Also, as you might be able to tell, walking on the bridge is pretty treacherous. There's nothing to stop you from falling in between the beams and into the water. Later, as we headed toward our floating hotel, we rode an old train, supposedly on the railway built by WWII POWs.
That's about it for attractions, more on a different side of Thailand next time.
What follows are some representative pictures from the time I spent in Thailand. Obviously, it's been a few weeks since I got back, and I don't remember everything I did there. Plus, unlike last year, I spent all of my time in that one country (with the small exception of southern China). For those reasons, I think it'll be much more interesting if I arrange these pictures and descriptions thematically, rather than ramble on in chronological order. So that's what I'll do.
First, places to see in the capital, Bangkok.
This is Khaosan Road. We (the other teachers and I) spent a great deal of time here. It's a long pedestrian street near our guest house, and it was designed to be a sort of mecca for low-budget travelers. There were probably more foreigners walking around here than native Thai people. During the day, the place was lined with small shops, racks, and tables displaying all sorts of souvenir items--t-shirts, Thai fisherman pants, underwear, bathing suits, jewelry, fake watches, fake bags, fake documents, and all sorts of other touristy crap I can't remember, mostly because I wasn't interested in buying most of it.There were always people here. At night, all the food vendors selling mostly Pad Thai and fried insects--I'll get to that later--came out to cater to the crowd filing in and out of the many bars on Khaosan. There were also many guest houses, so you could conceivably leave your room, go shopping, get some noodles, have a few drinks, and head off to bed without wasting any energy on walking. But I guess in Bangkok it's okay to save your strength, since the city has only two temperatures, hot and damn hot.
Above are some pictures of temples. I can tell you that Bangkok has a lot of temples. I know because I spent a lot of time walking around the city, and it was hard to look up from my map without seeing something big, white, and gold staring me in the face. In most of these you'll find some variety of Buddha standing, sitting, reclining, whatever, since I guess there are a lot of Buddhists around. This begs some comparisons to China. Though there are officially recognized faiths--Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, Catholicism, and Protestantism--and plenty of temples around, religion is the privately-practicing minority in China, and not in line with the ideals of Communism. It's only in recent years that the government has relaxed its once oppressive stance on religion. Thailand doesn't seem to care much, and I saw plenty of people openly worshiping at the feet of statues.
Another place to go, once you've finished with the Golden Buddha and the Giant Buddha and the Lucky Buddha and the Chubby, Smarmy, Reclining Buddha, is an open-air market. As you know, these things are all over Asia, but it never ceases to amaze me just how many different things can be crammed into one shantytown. This place was massive, and I actually got lost in all the narrow corridors and such, so it took me at least a half hour of wandering just to get out of there.
This is the art museum, located in the heart of the city. It's a really clean, modern building, and most importantly, it has air conditioning. I'd say my favorite part of the place was the top floor exhibit, which displayed elaborate submissions from architects who had competed to design the new house of parliament. For some reason, I really enjoy miniature models. I stumbled upon the museum while searching for the next destination, a different museum.
In case you don't know who Jim Thompson is (don't worry, I didn't either), he was an American businessman living in Bangkok in the 1950s and '60s. A talented designer and colorist, he's partly responsible for the worldwide popularity of Thai silk. He was also a collector of Thai artifacts, and before his mysterious and completely unexplained disappearance in Malaysia in 1967, he built himself one hell of a house in Bangkok dedicated entirely to Thai culture. I was able to walk through the house as he left it, but they don't let you take pictures.
The last major site that I'll mention is not actually in Bangkok, but a couple hours away by minibus. The top picture is from the museum that commemorates the building of the infamous Bridge on the River Kwai (and the brutality of the Japanese), and the middle pictures are of the bridge itself. Two things to note: standing next to me is my girlfriend Cathy, who joined me on the trip, and yes, I did end up shaving most of the animal fur off my face. Also, as you might be able to tell, walking on the bridge is pretty treacherous. There's nothing to stop you from falling in between the beams and into the water. Later, as we headed toward our floating hotel, we rode an old train, supposedly on the railway built by WWII POWs.That's about it for attractions, more on a different side of Thailand next time.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Spring Break...Sort Of
I haven't taught a class in a couple of weeks, so you may be wondering what I've been doing with my time. Well, the answer is pretty simple: not much. But looking ahead, the Spring Festival (Chinese New Year) holiday is fast approaching, and the entire country is preparing to travel at the same time. Planes, trains, all modes of transportation--they're going to be hell. Hundreds of millions of people trying to get home, and the infrastructure still isn't equipped to handle all of them. There's no sight more sad and puzzling than that of a Chinese person losing all composure over a canceled flight or train delay. It happens every year. And I'm hoping to beat the rush.
I'm about to take a train to Guangzhou, one of the southern cities, the point of departure for my flight to Thailand. I'm not sure how long I'll be there or where I'll be on February 14 (this year, the holiday coincides with Valentine's Day), but I do plan on meeting up with some of the other teachers in Bangkok. Most of them have left already. It's not really a good time to stay in China, since everyone is home with family, and the country basically shuts down. I think the average Chinese gets a full week off. But if you're a student or teacher, the break is a month and change. I've still got a lot of time left, so I think I'll take the long way home.
Updates forthcoming.
I'm about to take a train to Guangzhou, one of the southern cities, the point of departure for my flight to Thailand. I'm not sure how long I'll be there or where I'll be on February 14 (this year, the holiday coincides with Valentine's Day), but I do plan on meeting up with some of the other teachers in Bangkok. Most of them have left already. It's not really a good time to stay in China, since everyone is home with family, and the country basically shuts down. I think the average Chinese gets a full week off. But if you're a student or teacher, the break is a month and change. I've still got a lot of time left, so I think I'll take the long way home.
Updates forthcoming.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Holidays
You in the States may think the season is over, but here we're just getting started. I still have some pictures of past holidays, so I'm going to run through those, and you still have all the hoopla of Chinese New Year to look forward to. As do I. There are no pictures of Halloween, since it was really nothing special (putting on a cape was enough effort, especially given my limited wardrobe). Thanksgiving involved a meal way across town, and across the Yangtze River, at a foreign restaurant called Cafe Brussels. Owned by a large, bearded European, the place specializes in fine Western cuisine and boasts a rather impressive beer selection, including a couple of in-house micro-brews. It's expensive, but they were offering a special Thanksgiving menu, so we made the trip. We had a pretty tasty pumpkin soup to start, and things ended with a passable apple pie. I'm not sure whether the main course was actually turkey, but it was accompanied by so much gravy and mashed potatoes that it didn't really matter. It's hard to tell, but I'm pictured with a knife, attempting to carve the crepe-paper turkey that we, for some reason, had on hand.
Christmas, in contrast, was not quite as low-key as Thanksgiving, as it's one Western holiday that is widely celebrated in China. (Unlike my Christmas lesson, which was mostly candy and songs, I had to give most of my classes a pretty long-winded explanation of the history of Thanksgiving.) Once again, we got dressed up to go across town for a nice meal together, only to discover that everyone else in the city had plans of their own. The streets were flooded with people on Christmas Eve. During the one-hour-plus cab ride, the driver was trying to explain to me in basic Chinese that everyone would be out for the holiday. "Ping An Ye," he called it. Interestingly enough, the Chinese give apples to each other for good luck, since the word for apple sounds a little like the word for Christmas Eve. That, and they're red. Red is always good in China.
We numbered at least a dozen, the biggest group in the restaurant. Next to us stood an 8-year-old girl playing one of those ancient Chinese zithers for our enjoyment. I have to say, she was damn good, playing with the kind of precision that makes you wonder how many hours a day she's pushed to practice. The mood was festive, though, and everyone got a Santa hat. As you can see, I was no exception. And as for the dinner, it didn't disappoint. A perfectly cooked piece of tenderloin and a pint of decent beer were a hell of a lot better than the standard fare of fried rice and dumplings. Though, in keeping with Jewish tradition, I probably did have some Chinese food sometime that day.
The meal ended with a raffle, in which I won a free bottle of Delirium Noël (photo stolen), a surprisingly savory (and expensive) Belgian ale. So, that was cool. But it wasn't the only surprise of the night. When it came time to pay, we were charged only for drinks and told that the rest had been taken care of. With such a large group, the bill would've been come out to a few thousand yuan--a month's salary for the average foreign teacher--but it seems our meal was comped. After that, we headed out to the bar for a drink. Then we found that the bar had been closed by order of the local police. (Apparently, they had exceeded their capacity, and everyone was told to leave. They reopened about an hour later.) So, as you can tell, Christmas is a time for celebration here, but it has nothing to do with Jesus, Santa, or even the giving of gifts (although you can still see Santa's cherubic face posted in a few small restaurants, staring at you while you eat). It's mostly an excuse to have fun and do some shopping. Students tell me that stores participate not only to make money, but also because, as they put it, it's seen as fashionable.
I woke up Christmas morning at about 7 am and had class from 8 to 12. I wasn't too happy about it. But my students did give me a cake, for some reason. It was quite large and fruity and said, "Merry Christmas, Kevin." When I asked if they wanted to help me eat it, they said, "Oh, no, it is for you, teacher." So, I lugged it back to my apartment and took a nap. Don't worry, other students gave me apples, so my diet remains balanced.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
"Xin Nian Kuai Le"
You guessed it. The first post of 2010 begins appropriately with "Happy New Year" in Chinese. I really wanted to get as much mileage as I could out of the phrase, since I made sure to learn it but won't get another opportunity to use it for at least a year. The first couple of times I heard it, I thought people were saying "qu nian kuai le," which I then repeated to a few Chinese before actually thinking about it and realizing I was wishing everyone a "happy last year." Though not a very good example, this is a reminder of a particular feature of the Chinese language that gives so many people trouble, that a lot of words sound very similar, especially in certain dialects. In most of southern China, it's hard to hear the difference between four and ten. But the really interesting quirk is that even the exact same syllable, spoken with a different inflection, will have many vastly different meanings. We have this kind of thing in English, where emphasis totally changes the meaning of a word, but spoken Chinese is rife with it. Here's a well-known Chinese tongue twister:
妈妈骑马,马慢,妈妈骂马
"mā mā qí mǎ, mǎ màn, mā mā mà mǎ."
Mother rides a horse; the horse is slow; mother scolds the horse.
Anyway, I really didn't want this to turn into a language lesson, so, on to other things. I have a lot of pictures I've been meaning to post. I think I'll start with some stolen pictures of that trip to the villa I mentioned so long ago. Firstly, living in the building with me are several other foreigners around my age, including a guy from northern England, a girl from the London area, and a Welshman. The girl, Jemima, befriended one of her students, who then invited all of us to a function at a brand new gated community just south of the city. Now, we didn't really know what we would be doing there, but we did know that the only reason we were invited was because we were white. This was fine with us.
1. The girls riding in the van. 2. Looking at scale models.
Upon arrival, we were taken to what I think was the clubhouse for the golf course, and then to the indoor/outdoor driving range, which was totally surreal, because I had no idea there was a golf course anywhere near here. Imagine a row of AstroTurf mats with really well-furnished living rooms directly adjacent, and that's the range. In between hitting balls, we sipped coffee and tea from cups and saucers, smiling wide for the benefit of the camera crew following close behind. It was weird.
1. (L to R): Jemima, Rob, and I on the range. 2. (R to L): Jem, Rob, Wil, Jessi, and I.
Since I was the only one who even remotely knew how to hit a golf ball, I was asked to play a hole with the owner of the entire villa. I then found that this actually meant playing a hole by myself while the owner, caddy, cameraman, and coterie of foreigners looked on. Being a little nervous, I made bogey. The really important thing, though, is that I didn't embarrass myself. Then we took a ride around the neighborhood in a golf cart piloted by Jemima, who had to be reminded that they drive on the right side in China.
1. Exterior. 2. Wil in the dining room. 3. Cori in the kitchen. 4. Jessi in the bedroom.
I don't know much about architecture, but to give you a sense of the style, the place was called Napa Valley, and it came complete with palm trees and "American-style" interiors. Now, in America, these would be some damn nice homes. But in a city like Wuhan, they were so far out of reach for everyone here as to seem absurd. And things only got stranger as we were escorted through one of the models to the backyard pool/grilling area. Then, we were handed a lot of meat, vegetables, and spices and told to have a barbecue for ourselves. So we did. And it was good.
1. Wil poolside. 2. Wil at the grill (plus Rob). 3. Preparing potatoes. 4. About to eat.
(Not pictured: Steffi, Jemima's student.)
After many a free beer and kabob, it was time to leave. At that point it was dark and pretty chilly outside. With the help of Jemima's student, we thanked the big-wig Chinese businessman, whose exact background still remains a mystery to us, and piled in the van. I still don't know exactly what to make of it all, just that it was one of the strangest and most enjoyable days I've had in Wuhan, and there's a pretty good chance I was on a local TV channel afterward, hitting a chip shot.
妈妈骑马,马慢,妈妈骂马
"mā mā qí mǎ, mǎ màn, mā mā mà mǎ."
Mother rides a horse; the horse is slow; mother scolds the horse.
Anyway, I really didn't want this to turn into a language lesson, so, on to other things. I have a lot of pictures I've been meaning to post. I think I'll start with some stolen pictures of that trip to the villa I mentioned so long ago. Firstly, living in the building with me are several other foreigners around my age, including a guy from northern England, a girl from the London area, and a Welshman. The girl, Jemima, befriended one of her students, who then invited all of us to a function at a brand new gated community just south of the city. Now, we didn't really know what we would be doing there, but we did know that the only reason we were invited was because we were white. This was fine with us.
1. The girls riding in the van. 2. Looking at scale models.Upon arrival, we were taken to what I think was the clubhouse for the golf course, and then to the indoor/outdoor driving range, which was totally surreal, because I had no idea there was a golf course anywhere near here. Imagine a row of AstroTurf mats with really well-furnished living rooms directly adjacent, and that's the range. In between hitting balls, we sipped coffee and tea from cups and saucers, smiling wide for the benefit of the camera crew following close behind. It was weird.
1. (L to R): Jemima, Rob, and I on the range. 2. (R to L): Jem, Rob, Wil, Jessi, and I.Since I was the only one who even remotely knew how to hit a golf ball, I was asked to play a hole with the owner of the entire villa. I then found that this actually meant playing a hole by myself while the owner, caddy, cameraman, and coterie of foreigners looked on. Being a little nervous, I made bogey. The really important thing, though, is that I didn't embarrass myself. Then we took a ride around the neighborhood in a golf cart piloted by Jemima, who had to be reminded that they drive on the right side in China.
1. Exterior. 2. Wil in the dining room. 3. Cori in the kitchen. 4. Jessi in the bedroom.I don't know much about architecture, but to give you a sense of the style, the place was called Napa Valley, and it came complete with palm trees and "American-style" interiors. Now, in America, these would be some damn nice homes. But in a city like Wuhan, they were so far out of reach for everyone here as to seem absurd. And things only got stranger as we were escorted through one of the models to the backyard pool/grilling area. Then, we were handed a lot of meat, vegetables, and spices and told to have a barbecue for ourselves. So we did. And it was good.
1. Wil poolside. 2. Wil at the grill (plus Rob). 3. Preparing potatoes. 4. About to eat.(Not pictured: Steffi, Jemima's student.)
After many a free beer and kabob, it was time to leave. At that point it was dark and pretty chilly outside. With the help of Jemima's student, we thanked the big-wig Chinese businessman, whose exact background still remains a mystery to us, and piled in the van. I still don't know exactly what to make of it all, just that it was one of the strangest and most enjoyable days I've had in Wuhan, and there's a pretty good chance I was on a local TV channel afterward, hitting a chip shot.
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