Sunday, January 24, 2010
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.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Beginning of the End Times
A couple of weeks ago, I awoke on a Sunday morning to what I thought was the sound of artillery shells raining down on the roof above. Irritated, I lay in bed and thought to myself. More of the mandatory military training that all freshmen go through? A few well-armed cops with no accountability and too much time on their hands? The first strike in China’s full-scale war against foreigners? I went into the bathroom and pulled up the shade.
What I found was a cloud of smoke and fireworks that more closely resembled a hail of anti-aircraft fire than anything you’d see on the fourth of July. Just a bunch of guys hanging out on the adjacent rooftop, setting these things off pretty regularly for at least a good half hour. That’s cool, I didn’t want to sleep in or anything. After so much time in China, I’m used to the sound of fireworks going off in the distance at really random intervals, but this was practically happening in my bedroom on the morning of an utterly insignificant Sunday. And then, like a belated air-raid siren signaling the attack, this really awful rhythmic dance music began to blare outside. Where it came from I’ll never know—it just seemed to be everywhere at once. Weird stuff like this happens here sometimes, but it’s usually more off-putting than it is infuriating.
Not long after that, it snowed in Wuhan. This must be the beginning of the end times, because it rarely snows here, and never in November. Nonetheless, it was awesome. It didn’t pile up like it does in the Midwest, but it stuck enough to blanket the campus and bewilder the locals. You’ll be glad to know that the Chinese handled it the same way they do most meteorological phenomena—they pulled out their umbrellas. Rain would obviously elicit that response, but so, too, does sunshine, since they desperately want to keep from getting tan. And now, apparently, snow is reason enough to duck and cover. I don’t mean to sound smarmy, though, since it’s understandable that, living in a climate such as this, you wouldn’t necessarily prepare yourself for snow. Seeing everything nicely frosted for the first time, I went ahead and took a few pictures.
There have been other days like that over the past month or two, days when small, random things come along and break up the work week. Like anywhere, it’s easy to fall into routines in China. When you find a good restaurant with dishes you know (and know how to order), you want to go back. When you find a grocery store with things like bacon and cheddar, you’re pretty willing to make the trip. We sometimes have to remind ourselves that we should be trying new things. And we do. But it can be difficult going from one place to another, trying to find familiar characters on a Chinese menu, and occasionally repeating to a puzzled waitress, “bu yao hua sheng” (“no peanuts”). Anything within walking distance is preferable, what with all the gridlock. I swear, rush hour lasts from the morning commute to dinnertime. Luckily, there’s a small village of street vendors near my apartment that are both cheap and very easy to deal with. It’s a great go-to food option, especially in the winter months.
Things I’ve managed to do off-campus recently: all-night karaoke, a Halloween costume contest, a three-course Thanksgiving dinner, a few games of urban bowling, a free hole of golf at a posh, Western-style villa, a trip to the Provincial Museum, and the occasional late-night McDonald’s run. I’ll try to elaborate on at least a couple of these in future posts. For now, I just want to give you a better sense of daily life. At the moment, I’m cleaning and waiting for laundry to dry, which is thrilling, I know. This morning, we made pancakes, and tomorrow I probably won’t do much after I teach class. I have a lot of free time after classes. But I end up wasting it somehow and wishing I had longer weekends instead. It’s harder to travel when you work five days a week. I’m not complaining here, just saying I might rather have only two or three really long days of teaching, as many of the others do. Traveling often makes for a good blog entry, so when I do find some time, you’ll definitely hear about it.
What I found was a cloud of smoke and fireworks that more closely resembled a hail of anti-aircraft fire than anything you’d see on the fourth of July. Just a bunch of guys hanging out on the adjacent rooftop, setting these things off pretty regularly for at least a good half hour. That’s cool, I didn’t want to sleep in or anything. After so much time in China, I’m used to the sound of fireworks going off in the distance at really random intervals, but this was practically happening in my bedroom on the morning of an utterly insignificant Sunday. And then, like a belated air-raid siren signaling the attack, this really awful rhythmic dance music began to blare outside. Where it came from I’ll never know—it just seemed to be everywhere at once. Weird stuff like this happens here sometimes, but it’s usually more off-putting than it is infuriating.
Not long after that, it snowed in Wuhan. This must be the beginning of the end times, because it rarely snows here, and never in November. Nonetheless, it was awesome. It didn’t pile up like it does in the Midwest, but it stuck enough to blanket the campus and bewilder the locals. You’ll be glad to know that the Chinese handled it the same way they do most meteorological phenomena—they pulled out their umbrellas. Rain would obviously elicit that response, but so, too, does sunshine, since they desperately want to keep from getting tan. And now, apparently, snow is reason enough to duck and cover. I don’t mean to sound smarmy, though, since it’s understandable that, living in a climate such as this, you wouldn’t necessarily prepare yourself for snow. Seeing everything nicely frosted for the first time, I went ahead and took a few pictures.
There have been other days like that over the past month or two, days when small, random things come along and break up the work week. Like anywhere, it’s easy to fall into routines in China. When you find a good restaurant with dishes you know (and know how to order), you want to go back. When you find a grocery store with things like bacon and cheddar, you’re pretty willing to make the trip. We sometimes have to remind ourselves that we should be trying new things. And we do. But it can be difficult going from one place to another, trying to find familiar characters on a Chinese menu, and occasionally repeating to a puzzled waitress, “bu yao hua sheng” (“no peanuts”). Anything within walking distance is preferable, what with all the gridlock. I swear, rush hour lasts from the morning commute to dinnertime. Luckily, there’s a small village of street vendors near my apartment that are both cheap and very easy to deal with. It’s a great go-to food option, especially in the winter months.
Things I’ve managed to do off-campus recently: all-night karaoke, a Halloween costume contest, a three-course Thanksgiving dinner, a few games of urban bowling, a free hole of golf at a posh, Western-style villa, a trip to the Provincial Museum, and the occasional late-night McDonald’s run. I’ll try to elaborate on at least a couple of these in future posts. For now, I just want to give you a better sense of daily life. At the moment, I’m cleaning and waiting for laundry to dry, which is thrilling, I know. This morning, we made pancakes, and tomorrow I probably won’t do much after I teach class. I have a lot of free time after classes. But I end up wasting it somehow and wishing I had longer weekends instead. It’s harder to travel when you work five days a week. I’m not complaining here, just saying I might rather have only two or three really long days of teaching, as many of the others do. Traveling often makes for a good blog entry, so when I do find some time, you’ll definitely hear about it.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Take That, Censorship
Welcome to the first post of the new school year here in China. This is also the first post since the government started blocking all access to this particular blogging website. I toyed with the idea of starting a new one, but this one is so old and familiar--like a well-worn hoodie--that I opted instead for the software that lets me get around all the Internet filtering. Which is, I think, pretty cool.
I'm two months into my second year, and until now, I haven't really been thinking about home very much, except when I'm waxing nostalgic about Chicago to my students. Going back for the summer was definitely the right choice. But after I got here, I guess I unconsciously blocked out most of it, in an effort to readjust to life in China. This is my first real attempt at updating anyone in the U.S. on how things are going.
The new job is going well. The Zhongnan University of Economics and Law campus is right on the southern edge of South Lake, so there's some decent scenery. The school's actual name is 中南财经政法大学 ("Zhōng Nán Cái Jīng Zhèng Fǎ Dà Xué"), which is a real mouthful, even for the natives. I'm teaching Oral English again this year. It's pretty much the same job as last year, but with several more hours and a little more money. My schedule is more intense than that of most foreign teachers here, but compared to a real job, it's really not bad. Obviously, morning classes aren't my favorite, and the various ailments (respiratory, intestinal, etc.) that I and others have battled certainly don't help, but I feel like I might be starting to maybe figure out how to teach Chinese students effectively. At the very least, I hope to help them pass their tests and find steady work in an increasingly competitive job market. In any case, they gave me a sweet apartment.
Check out these pictures of varying quality and luminosity:
The Hand Chair I just bought
The Kitchen
The Office
The Bookcase (full of shelves and a few books)
The Front Balcony
The Spare Room
The Rear Balcony
The Guestroom
The Bedroom
The Master Bathroom
The Guest Bathroom (a.k.a "the Squatter")
The Fridge
The Washer
The Dryer
The Hallway and Cathedral Ceiling
(another perspective shot)
I'm two months into my second year, and until now, I haven't really been thinking about home very much, except when I'm waxing nostalgic about Chicago to my students. Going back for the summer was definitely the right choice. But after I got here, I guess I unconsciously blocked out most of it, in an effort to readjust to life in China. This is my first real attempt at updating anyone in the U.S. on how things are going.
The new job is going well. The Zhongnan University of Economics and Law campus is right on the southern edge of South Lake, so there's some decent scenery. The school's actual name is 中南财经政法大学 ("Zhōng Nán Cái Jīng Zhèng Fǎ Dà Xué"), which is a real mouthful, even for the natives. I'm teaching Oral English again this year. It's pretty much the same job as last year, but with several more hours and a little more money. My schedule is more intense than that of most foreign teachers here, but compared to a real job, it's really not bad. Obviously, morning classes aren't my favorite, and the various ailments (respiratory, intestinal, etc.) that I and others have battled certainly don't help, but I feel like I might be starting to maybe figure out how to teach Chinese students effectively. At the very least, I hope to help them pass their tests and find steady work in an increasingly competitive job market. In any case, they gave me a sweet apartment.
Check out these pictures of varying quality and luminosity:
The Living Room
The Hand Chair I just bought
The Kitchen
The Office
The Bookcase (full of shelves and a few books)
The Front Balcony
The Spare Room
The Rear Balcony
The Guestroom
The Bedroom
The Master Bathroom
The Guest Bathroom (a.k.a "the Squatter")
The Fridge
The Washer
The Dryer
The Hallway and Cathedral Ceiling
(another perspective shot)
Now, I fully acknowledge that someone with my qualifications and work ethic has no business living here. These are just the apartments they give to the foreign teachers., regardless of age, background, etc. It's one example of a sometimes troubling practice of rewarding people simply for being white. And, sure, it's a seventh-floor walk-up, but I really don't mind the climb.
If only I could figure out how to decorate the place.
There's much more to tell you about what I've been up to, things you'd find more stimulating than what's included above, but for now I'll have to leave you with a picture of a friend, Croatian Ivan, cooking meat over a fire by the lake.
If only I could figure out how to decorate the place.
There's much more to tell you about what I've been up to, things you'd find more stimulating than what's included above, but for now I'll have to leave you with a picture of a friend, Croatian Ivan, cooking meat over a fire by the lake.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Malaysia: Langkawi and KL
1/28-2/11
Getting to our guest house on the island proved to be a little challenging. We found a taxi to take us to the jetty, splitting the fare with a young Chinese couple, as I remember. Among other things, China happens to produce a lot of young couples. Anyway, we found our way onto a small ferry and gave them cash without the hassle of buying any tickets, so I'm still confused as to the legitimacy of the whole thing. Another taxi took us across the island, and we settled into the guest house, far from the main city. It was a sleepy part of the world, just what we were looking for. The place was nice enough, sort of a loose collection of shelters and shacks among gravel pathways, and our room ended up being a lot more clean and comfortable than it appeared from the outside. The open-air kitchen shared by all the guests was right next to our door, so that was a plus. The lounge had a case of cold beverages and a sign explaining that we were on the honor system when it came to paying for them. The paths usually had dogs lying around because it was too hot to do anything else. It was all just as laid-back as we were hoping for. The picture below isn't where we stayed; I just thought it was funny.
We caught a cab into town a couple of times--first to buy bus and ferry tickets, and then to take the ferry back to the peninsula. Once we got on the mainland, we had a couple of hours to kill, so we went to the nearby KFC, threw our giant backpacks down, and got some nuggets. It was a good time. We took an overnight coach bus, since we couldn't find anyone who was selling train tickets, and it worked out pretty well. The bus put us in KL at about 4 or 5 in the morning. We had a hell of a time finding the hostel we'd booked, since all the streets kind of wind around everywhere, and the place was through a nondescript door and up a couple flights. It was a place to lay our heads for a few days, if we could wake up the owner and get him to unlock the gate. Once through, we got to our room, which faced what felt like the noisiest street in the whole city, since one of the windows was missing its glass. No matter. We collapsed on the beds and tried for a few hours of solid sleep.
It was at this point in our trip that we started to get a little tired, as we'd been bouncing from place to place for about three weeks. We decided to take a break from doing anything overly adventurous and/or educational. Cori knew of a popular tourist destination in the northwest part of the country, the island of Langkawi, and it sounded good to me, so we booked train tickets. Problem is, there's no direct transportation from Taman Negara in the northeast (where we were) and Langkawi. That would've been too easy. What I didn't know about Malaysia was that pretty much everything goes through Kuala Lumpur. Because of this, we had to take a boat ride back down the river and take the bus all the way back south to KL. From the bus, we hopped the KL metro to the train station, ate some Subway, and got on an overnight train to Langkawi. The train took about 12 hours, but luckily I was in a sleeper car. Drowsy and disoriented, we arrived in a port city early the next morning.
One of the first things we did, at Cori's behest, was to find the beach. I was happy to go, since it was a lot of the reason for being there, after all. We found a nice strip of sand just down the road from us, and I plopped down in the shade with a book and a beer, kind of like what you'd see in a Corona commercial. Of course, it was hot and sandy, so I didn't last long. But the important thing is that I was there. The next week or so was a blur of books and walks and playing cards and Indian food. Now, I'm not normally a fan, but the area had some damn good Indian food, and we ate it a lot. That plus Malaysian, which was similar. I don't think there's much else I can say about our time on the island, just that it was lazy, and there wasn't much to do. I finally finished One Hundred Years of Solitude, which is a really good book, especially in warm weather.
We caught a cab into town a couple of times--first to buy bus and ferry tickets, and then to take the ferry back to the peninsula. Once we got on the mainland, we had a couple of hours to kill, so we went to the nearby KFC, threw our giant backpacks down, and got some nuggets. It was a good time. We took an overnight coach bus, since we couldn't find anyone who was selling train tickets, and it worked out pretty well. The bus put us in KL at about 4 or 5 in the morning. We had a hell of a time finding the hostel we'd booked, since all the streets kind of wind around everywhere, and the place was through a nondescript door and up a couple flights. It was a place to lay our heads for a few days, if we could wake up the owner and get him to unlock the gate. Once through, we got to our room, which faced what felt like the noisiest street in the whole city, since one of the windows was missing its glass. No matter. We collapsed on the beds and tried for a few hours of solid sleep.Somewhere around lunchtime, Cori and I got up to go to the airport. Steven, one of the other teachers, was coming to Kuala Lumpur from Australia, and we were going to pick him up. After spending a little time back in Chicago, then Australia and New Zealand, he had decided to meet up with us on his way back to China. I wouldn't have minded adding those stops to the itinerary, but I think I did just fine as it was. Anyway, we were happy to meet up with him and catch up a little. Later, we had dinner at our new favorite restaurant, Chili's, and I got myself a couple of pints of Kilkenny, a really good ale that isn't sold in the US. There was a bookstore nearby that rivaled even the likes of Borders, so we spent some time in there, as well. That kind of thing just doesn't exist where we live. Then we went to see Underworld 3, a movie so utterly ridiculous that I was glad of those pints I'd had beforehand.
The next day we visited the Batu Caves on a tip from the people at the hostel. The three of us were only hanging around a few days before heading back to Wuhan, but we had unwittingly come back to KL during a large Hindu festival. The city, besides boasting a huge Chinese population, is also home to a large number of Indians. So popular is the festival of "Thaipusam" and its annual pilgrimage site, that all we had to do was walk down the street for a few seconds before a bus came rolling by with cries of "Batu Caves! Batu Caves! Batu Caves!" So we hopped on. What we didn't know was that it's normally one of the largest gatherings in the world. It was a little crowded, yes, but eventually we got up the couple hundred steps and into the caves. Kind of a crazy place, unless you're Hindu. Then it might make a little more sense. Or at least that's my hope. It was especially hot that day, and I was anxious to get out of the sun and away from all the pilgrims with their heads painted gold. We hopped a bus back to the city, got some Chinese for dinner, and made another trip to the Beatles Bar. I mean, how could we not take Steven, knowing he'd either really enjoy it, or be thoroughly creeped out by it?
The next day brought us probably the last major event of the trip: the swanky hotel (not pictured). My father, in his infinite generosity, had offered to help us out with our accommodations, and I decided to take him up on it. We hadn't been living on the streets or anything close to it, but I was, after all, in need of a good shower. It was a Western-style right there in Chinatown, a definite upgrade, and it had an amazing shower. That night we hung around the Petronas Towers, managing almost to get locked inside, and the next day we hit the Central Market and the National Museum. Our last day there, and I think we spent it right, absorbing some local culture and whatnot. Luckily, we were able to get on the same flight out. It was an early one, 'round 6 or 6:30, as I recall. Brutal. But we made it into Shenzhen just fine, and Wuhan from there.
I was gone exactly five weeks in all--a long time to be trudging around backwater countries--and it felt good to be home. Felt good to get some rest. Making it up as you go really takes a lot out of you. But looking back on it now, I honestly don't think I could've planned a better trip if I'd tried.
Follow the link and click on "Malaysia" for more KL and Langkawi pictures. Click on "Me" and scroll all the way down for a few me pictures:
http://picasaweb.google.com/kevin.wender
http://picasaweb.google.com/kevin.wender
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