The Final Act

I am no longer writing these posts from my tenth floor Beijing dormitory, but have instead made the almost fifteen-hour trip from China back to Los Angeles, where I was heartily welcomed home by family and friends. While China no doubt stands out in my mind as an incredibly unique and eye-opening experience, I had been secretly (or perhaps not so secretly) longing for fresh summer produce, my well-worn Volvo, the usual uniform of cat and dog dander, and the California sun.

My last week in Beijing, though, did provide for some last minute sight-seeing. The typical procrastinator, I had left much of the touring for the last two weeks of my stay, so that final week I made it a priority to see much of what NBC has been using as its token panoramas during the Olympic coverage as Bob Costas cues for a commercial break.

After Tiantan and Beihai Park, we visited the Beijing 798 art district. The art there shared a common red hue, which coincidentally matched the red flag of Switzerland, the Hospitality House of which was also lodged in the area. Hospitality Houses are another Olympic-related quirk that has been added to the city. It serves as almost a warehouse-sized advertisement for each country, every tourist attraction and favorable trait on display. In the Swiss house, we rode the ski lifts up the Alps, watched Lindt chocolatiers craft sugary perfection, and listened to the Yodeling-like musical acts. Take a look:

Jess and I cruising up the ski lift.

Perusing the Chinese wall art

After final exams were over and goodbyes had been said, I was lucky enough to make it to one of the Olympic events before heading back to the States. After what was an overwhelmingly impressive opening ceremony, I was revved up to cheer on...Brazil, Algeria, Cuba, and Poland as their women's indoor volleyball teams made their Olympic debuts.

At the Capital Indoor Stadium waiting for the games to start.

Poland making a comeback against the indestructible Cuban team

Topping off my last night with a final Peking duck feast, I packed my bags and readied for the trip home. Despite a two hour rain delay and a reasonable amount of customs-related anxiety, hoping that my pirated DVDs would not become confiscated property, I landed in LAX Sunday night safe and sound, with the DVDs still in my possession.

Since being home, I've been asked many times how my trip was and what I've learned. The one consistent thought with which I've responded has been simple: I've experienced what most people have never have or will never be able to in a lifetime, assimilated myself into a culture entirely different from my own, felt the thrill of communicating with people in their native language, and learned the secrets of a city as if it were my own. With that, however, with a growing fascination and appreciation for China, I have also developed a deeper gratitude and respect for all that I have back home, whether that be the love of family, the familiarity of the English language, or just the comfort of my own bed. As much as China taught me about what I had yet to learn, it has also taught me so much more about what I thought I already knew so well.

Thanks to all who have been following my travels these past few weeks. I hope my blog has offered some insight into the seemingly alternate universe that is China. I know even from my end, there is still much to learn...

Signing off,
Tess

The Golden Ticket

Another week has passed in Beijing, and there is much to report. As my time here dwindles down, I'm trying to spend as much of it out in the city exploring that which I have yet to see, and less time lounging around in the dorms, however appealing a nap or movie might seem.

A little taste of America came last Sunday in Hairspray. Three of my friends and I trekked out to the nearby theater to watch the one time Broadway spectacle, and we must have been the only Americans in the house. No, the show was not in Chinese, it was in fact entirely in English, but despite the subtitles provided to them, I don't think the Chinese audience understood the musical's message. In what is supposed to advocate equality in all its forms, the homogeneous crowd stared on lost in translation. Nevertheless, we proceeded to sing along to the soundtrack, loudly and proudly, providing excellent fodder to further the loud, crass American stereotype.

The most notable occurrences this week, however, were Olympics related. If any doubt lingers as to whether or not Beijing will be able to pull it all off, the verdict is about to be revealed. Volunteers are walking around everywhere, clad in their blue jerseys, khaki pants, and addidas footwear, and the athletes have already arrived. What I've learned from all of my eaves dropping and blatant staring is that it's all about the yellow strap. The yellow lanyard, which is affixed to each Olympics identification badge, is the key to eternal happiness - and also a bullseye that separates the Olympians from all of us normal folk. Almost every weekend, we've made our way over to some massive shopping complex in search of this fake purse or that touristy Chinese trinket. But this weekend, I could barely focus on my shopping, utterly distracted as massive athlete upon massive athlete passed through the narrow aisles, hopelessly trying to bargain with the Chinese shopkeepers. Saturday brought us many Cuban track and field athletes (all of whom, true to form, unabashedly checked out my friend as they walked by), Irish swimmers, US gold medalist fencers, and Ecuadorian who-knows-whats, while Sunday brought us more Cubans, US boxers, Italians, and Croatians. I shamelessly acted like an excited twelve year old girl as each team passed by, clad in either tight fitting spandex or loose national team sweats. One of my friends even hid behind a purse stand as a few of the US boxers passed by because "they were too good looking" for her to stay composed in their presence.

As much as we've enjoyed watching the athletes frequent the same shops we've meandered through for the past seven weeks, I think the shopkeepers themselves are the happiest. This summer, I've learned the ropes as to how to bargain in China - what prices I should be getting, and which prices are absolutely ludicrous. These athletes, however, haven't quite caught on yet. For example, one of my friends bought seven silk scarves from a shop for about 120 RMB, which is about 17 RMB per scarf. The man before her, who left with a smug smile across his face as if to say: I'm a fine bargainer, indeed!, paid 500 RMB for eight scarves, or 62.5 RMB per scarf. Even worse, the shopkeeper there told my friend a woman earlier that day had paid her $100, or about 800 RMB, for a single scarf. Now, that's a profit margin you don't see everyday.

Though the market prompted all giddiness and excitement from my end, one little boy did not seem as enthused by all the Olympic glitz and glamor. See if you can find him...


To complete what I promise is the last piece of Olympics-related news for this post, I have been lucky enough to get my hands on an Olympics ticket for this upcoming weekend. Thanks to a random connection (a family friend's cousin who also happens to be in Beijing this summer), I will be attending two women's volleyball events before heading back to the States on Sunday. I think even "elated" is too weak of an adjective to describe my excitement. Shocked and amazed at the opportunity, I can't wait!

I managed to sneak in a surprising amount of touring this week as well. With not much time left, I figured I had to pay my dues and make the rounds to all of the important parks and streets, including the Temple of Heaven, Wangfujin, and Beihai Park. Take a look:








To the left is the famous Tiantan, or Temple of Heaven, another one of Beijing's ancient relics.










Wangfujin is famous for it's 小吃街, or snack street. It's packed with stands selling traditional Beijing style snacks from skewers of roast meet or squid to skewers of sugar glazed fruits. It's the only street in Beijing on which cars are not permitted to drive, and is also the official home of the Olympics staff and merchandise. The buildings here, coupled with many a bright light and flustered pedestrian, are the only ones in Beijing that are slightly reminiscent of those you might find in New York City's Time Square.


















Our indulgent sugar-covered-grape skewered snacks

Below is Beihai Park. It's famous for the White Pagoda, which you can see in the background of this photo.

Another interesting adventure came as I searched out new places to buy my beloved pirated DVDs. The Chinese government has begun to crack down on pirated DVD shops, closing them down in preparation for the Olympics. My beloved Yashow shop out of business, I've been hunting around Beijing looking for places that sell what has now become rare commodities. Luckily, I found one - but in the oddest, and perhaps sketchiest of places: an underground abandoned passageway next to the Silk Market that sells tourist trinkets for 10 RMB each. Anyway, at the far end of this "market" is a small DVD mart. When you walk inside, the prospects are slim as only sparse bookshelves half-filled with Chinese soap operas fill the shop; however, upon asking the shopkeeper for American films, she looks at you, nods, scans for patrol guards, and suddenly moves the bookcase behind the counter where she is sitting. The bookcase is actually a door, behind which is another door, behind which is a windowless room filled with American DVDs and TV shows. It's like a scene from a mystery movie, with secret corridors and trap doors, but only this time the treasure is American DVDs. Now the only thing I have to worry about is getting them through customs...

I have finally crossed the one week marker signaling my last seven days in this city. It's unreal to imagine that I have been a Beijinger for seven weeks, having gone from complete culture shock to cultural assimilation. I won't bore you with nostalgic reminiscences yet, but it's going to be strange having to look at all of those Caucasian faces again.

That's about it from this end of the world.

Until later,
Tess

So You're From 耶鲁大学 （Yale)...?

Since coming to Beijing, I don't think I've ever been as conscious of my status as a Yale student as I was this past week. As per usual, the university thoroughly spoiled its students here in Beijing, whether inviting us to dinner or giving us free tickets to music performances. Last Friday, our introductory Chinese professor and the Dean of Student Affairs made the trip to Beijing to evaluate the various Light Fellowship-approved programs. During what little spare time they had, they managed to invite us to a 烤鸭 (Peking duck) feast, which was followed the next day by a Yale Club in Beijing sponsored BBQ. Only seeing the people in my small Duke Study in China program on a regular basis, I never knew how many Yalies actually reside in Beijing, whether as summer abroad students, alumni, teaching fellows, interns, or even prefrosh. I saw fellow Jonathan Edwards 2011-ers (pictured below) and incoming 2012-ers, and even met one JE alum from the class of '65.
They warn you before you come here that Beijing is stock full of Yalies, and I guess I should have known since I ran into three Bulldogs my very first weekend here, but for some reason I keep thinking the world is bigger than it actually is.

The Yale Club also gave us tickets to the National Center for the Performing Arts, nicknamed "The Egg." It's Beijing's newest concert hall, and one of its finest architectural spectacles. The architecture, however, wasn't the only spectacle. As I asked one of my friends to take a picture of me standing in front of the building, posing as any proper tourist would, I suddenly started to sense that my personal space was becoming less and less personal and more and more communal. As I looked to my left and right, a Chinese boy and girl were closing in on me, their mothers in tow ready to jam the shutter button on their cameras as soon as I happened to glance in that direction. I don't think Caucasians are a common sight here in Beijing, as cosmopolitan as it appears to be. Before I knew it, I was transformed from a broken-Chinese-speaking student into a royal celebrity. I must have posed with five different people before I finally broke loose - and they say you have to have talent to be admired. I think I finally understand why Michael Jackson is the way he is.

The performance center itself was spectacular, with a slick, chic metal exterior and dark wood paneling throughout the interior. It so happens that we were scheduled to watch the Yale School of Music perform with the top Chinese Conservatory - why would I have assumed anything different?

In addition to "The Egg," I also trekked to some of Beijing's other new architectural masterpieces: The Bird's Nest (pictured below) and the Water Cube. As the two primary Olympic venues, these will be somewhat more weathered within the next few weeks, but they were even stunning from two hundred feet away, which is the closest you can get to them at this point. Standing in front of these two buildings is such a different experience than watching TV cameras pan the area or seeing snapshots in the newspapers. You could feel the anticipation and excitement, the magnitude of the Olympic Games, and what they symbolize for China as an up-and-coming powerhouse. In conjunction with the construction of these architecturally-forward stadiums, the city too is undergoing massive renovations in preparation for the big 08.08.08. Our host university, which is basically a slab of concrete, was last week transformed into Los Angeles's Huntington Gardens, with flowers and banners strewn across the campus. Olympics banners now hang from every bridge, highway overpass, and lamppost. Cars are now restricted to driving only on certain days, and you can actually see some blue in the sky. It's almost like a new city.

One of my friends in the States recently told me that he found it hilarious how my blog posts so often mention food and shopping, and as much as I would like to prove him wrong, one of the most interesting nights I had this week involved, well, food. Two other Yalies (both of whom are native Chinese, and one a native Beijing-er) and I walked through the labyrinth of hutongs bordering Tiananmen Square, finally arriving at a small Peking duck restaurant.
What made this particular event interesting was not the sixth or seventh roast duck I've had in Beijing, but rather its various edible appendages. Apparently duck in China is served with other "duck-related" side dishes, as one of my friends put it, which meant our table was laden with duck liver, gizzard, intestines, and webbed feet. Against my better judgment, my motto that night was, while in China, do as the Chinese do, but I'm not quacking yet, so I think it worked out okay. What was most striking, however, was walking through these hutongs. Next to Tiananmen Square, which perhaps contains the most lavish and opulent series of buildings, exists a series of alleyways with dilapidated buildings and dirt floors. A hallmark of the Qin Dynasty, people still live within these small villages, though the government is demolishing most of them, building tall skyscrapers in their stead.

Another weekend is starting here for us, which brings the countdown down to two weeks before taking off for the States. But each weekend promises more interesting tales for another blog post, so hopefully I'll return Monday with something intriguing to report.

That's all for now. 再见！

-Tess

Halftime

As we enter into week five, I think Jon Bon Jovi and late night Toad's goers say it best: "Oh oh, we're half way there/Oh oh living on a prayer".

Yes, we've reached the midpoint of this journey, and with it came quite a number of silly, educational, and insightful moments. Since it has been about a week since my last post, I think the best way to go about describing all of these moments would be in chronological fashion. Here it goes...

星期二, 7月8号 (Tuesday): As I may have mentioned already, everyday each student meets with his or her own language partner , or 语伴, whose purpose is to help students practice Chinese in a casual, student-to-student environment. My language partner is the somewhat quirky, endearing Peng Peng (or to use her English name: Joan). Having complained to Peng Peng on numerous occasions about my friends' and my perpetual pizza craving while in Beijing, she offered to take me to a local pizza place that she was fond of. Unlike in America, Chinese college students don't often eat pizza, finding it too expensive to consume with any regularity (which is perhaps why the Chinese are in staggeringly better physical condition than their American counterparts), so her invitation was actually very generous. This favorite pizza place of hers, however, turned out to be none other than our very own Pizza Hut. Unlike the typical American delivery joint, this Beijing Pizza Hut was remarkably classy, fit with its own maitre'd, printed menus, and colorful wall decorations. Surprisingly, this pizza (which, to my utter delight, we complemented with a hearty piece of chocolate cake) has been the only "American" food I've had in China that has tasted similar to that which you would purchase in America. Whether that is a good thing or not, I'm not quite sure, but it was greasy and cheesy enough to satisfy any American teenager's cravings. From the picture on the left, I think it's safe to say that Peng Peng agrees.

She also introduced me to the wonders of authentic Boba tea. While Boba tea, or 奶茶 (nai cha - milk tea) is sold at numerous locations in the States, I've never felt compelled to try it before, nor did I actually on Tuesday night either, but feeling obligated to partake in a component of Peng Peng's culture as she had in mine, I skeptically ordered one, and was very pleasantly surprised by what I found. Let's just say they've been getting a lot of Tess business since then...

7月9号， 星期三(Wendesday): With this past week being that of the dreaded midterm, I was a little bit out of my element. While at Yale, I normally lock myself up in one of the Bass Library cubbies, only to be purposefully distracted by my fellow procrastinators, but with the Capital Normal University library closed for the summer, I was at a loss. So instead, a friend and I decided to take to the streets and explore Beijing, combining textual with practical study. We ended up in Houhai, which is the lake district in the center of Beijing. We meandered along the now dwindling hutongs into a bar owned by a young twenty-something couple called "Whatever." Not such a motivational title in terms of studying, but in the midafternoon and early evening, it provided us with a very stylish, but cozy place to take to the books. The walls, a rusty orange, were covered with chalk marks drawn by recent customers - even one that read Yale 万岁 (long live Yale), which was appropriately placed in full view above Harvard's 万岁 (see left). Not to worry, the two of us left our own marks too- our names in Chinese and a sufficient amount of Yale pride. As efficient as it is to study in the dorms, I think I learned more about China from that one trip to Houhai than all the nights cooped in the dorms eating at the first floor Japanese restaurant.

While at Whatever, I also happened to catch a small portion of a new Chinese gameshow. Normally I don't take interest in watching Chinese television since, well, I only understand about one out of every ten words, but this one was different: it was a contest - in English. I don't know what the exact title was, but it must have been something like, Who Can Speak the Best Chinglish - I mean, English. The rumors are true - as much as Beijing is preparing its air, stadiums, freeways, and parks for the Olympics, the people are in training too. English is the hot new commodity, and China is providing every incentive for people to improve their language skills.

7月11号， 星期五(Friday): Midterms. That's all that really needs to be said about both Thursday and the first half of Friday. With that completed, there was an air of celebration mixed with utter exhaustion as pupil after pupil flopped down onto his/her bed for what would no doubt be a very long afternoon nap. The semester over, however, we were ready to embark on our semester break trip: a choice between Xi'an, Shanxi, and Shaolin. Most of us opted for Xi'an, and proceeded to take a thirteen hour overnight train from Beijing direct to Xi'an. In what seemed no larger than a handicapped bathroom stall, six students piled into six beds. In this rather intimate setting, we proceeded - as all sleep deprived students often do - to talk most of the night, falling asleep to the sound of each others comments, observations, complaints, or what have you. Surprisingly though, it was the best night's sleep most of us had had in a while.

7月12号， 星期六(Saturday): We arrived in Xi'an bright and early, tour guides escorting us from the train station to our hotel - the accommodations of which outshone every aspect of our dormitories back at Beijing. It was there where we found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow - a buffet of banana bread, croissants, eggs, french toast, cheerios, yogurt, bacon, and hash browns. It was love at first sight - and digested even sooner. That afternoon we saw the famous Wild Goose Pagoda, the city wall, and a Muslim market, which sold the Mulan-esque crickets (which I think were actually locusts) in bamboo cages. Saturday night, though, brought us into the very authentic world of Chinese entertainment. No, not the Tang Dynasty dance and song performances we watched while eating eighteen different types of Chinese dumplings - karaoke. KTV is the big name in karaoke in China, and as soon as we set foot into the Xi'an branch, four Chinese students turned into American Idol's Best of the Worst show. While the English song selection was limited only to songs titled A-C (the disappearance of D-Z is still under investigation), we sang proudly and loudly to the likes of Billie Jean, Hit Me Baby One More Time (under Britney Spears, not H), Bye Bye Bye, and Barbie Girl. Most of the songs, however, did not have the accompanying music videos, so while singing a song like All Star, an upbeat, rip your voice box out of your throat type of song, we got to watch picturesque montages of Chinese scenery and the pensive poses of Chinese and American models. It didn't seem to affect our singing too much, though - according to the amused/horrified looks of the employees' faces upon our exit, I'm pretty sure that despite the sound proof doors, they could easily hear us sing our American hearts out.

7月13号， 星期天(Sunday): Sunday brought us to the Eighth Wonder of the World: the Terra Cotta soldiers. Unfortunately, while they advertise the existence of three full pits of these little guys, there is sadly but one. Pit 1 was definitely impressive, though the experience, as most anticipated ones are, was not as staggering as I had imagined. Nevertheless, I have a few pictures to share.


One more thing: as promised, this weekend led me to a T-shirt worthy of mention. While vising the terra cotta soldiers, we happened upon this little boy touring with his parents. Without saying anything else, I will let the T-shirt speak for itself:


7月9号， 星期三(Monday - Tuesday): We returned back to Beijing on Monday, classes canceled for the day. They resumed again today (Tuesday), and there is nothing of much interest to speak of in that department. My one creation today, however, has been a new series that I'm starting in Beijing (well, in my head at least, to amuse myself). The Duke program students are big gym goers, and everyday when my roommate and I go to the gym at around 4 or 5 in the afternoon, we always happen upon the same group of people there. The gym itself is very nice, with new equipment and TV monitors attached to the tredmills. The only downside is that the AC is not very strong, and you end up looking like you've just come back from swim practice every time you go. Regardless, while walking back from the gym today, I thought it reminded me of one of those cheesy soap operas. I have dubbed it : GYMWATCH - the sweaty, Chinese exercise edition of the classic Baywatch. It's only funny, though, because while, yes, everyone is sweaty with glistening muscles, etc etc, there is this one girl, whom for her protection and dignity I will call Larissa. Larissa is one of those girls who wears the short shorts, the fake tan, the fake nails, the fake smile, and the fake reputation. She likes to go to the gym everyday for a short ten minute hop on the tredmill and then scurries over to the weight lifting area to flirt with all the guys who collect in that area. She says she's a dancer, so while talking to these guys, she pulls her legs up over her head, does many a downward dog position (and its variants), and asks them to spot her as she attempts a fifteen pound bench press. When I get off the tredmill each day with my roommate, we gaze over to that area, utterly amused by her behavior. Hence the creation of Gymwatch and its star: Larissa. I'm still waiting for an interesting plot line to unfold, but we still have four weeks.

Well, I think that's enough to carry you through for another few days. Bye for now!

再见!

-Tess

And Then God Said, Let There Be Photos!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the day has finally come when the Internet has glowingly bestowed upon me the ability to post pictures onto this blog space. It's not much, but hopefully it will give you a more concrete idea of what has been going on these past three weeks...

This is my lovely dorm room and bed at Capital Normal University.

At the base of the Great Wall in Simatai (from left): Jess, Ran, me, and Szeman (my roommate)

Szeman and I on the paddle boats at the Summer Palace (颐和园, or Yiheyuan).

At the Summer Palace. From left: Szeman, Drew, Jess, Johnny, and me.

This is me and 雷老师 (Lei Laoshi = Teacher Lei), one of my favorite teachers here.

Ready for a night out on the town

Jess, Szeman, Drew, and I at the top of the Great Wall.

Bye for now,
Tess

Oh I Could So Go For a Bimbo Right Now...

It's been a while since my last post, which means there is a lot to say post-Chang Cheng.

While it's hard to believe that I've only been here for three weeks, three weeks in China seeming almost like a good two months anywhere else, there are still those moments that make you remember that, oh wait, this isn't exactly how I remember things back at home. I've finally settled into a solid daily routine, decided on all of my favorite dishes at each of the local restaurants, and know the drive from campus to Chaoyang (one of the more bustling parts of Beijing) by heart. But, this week we too encountered some not so familiar situations. One of my good friends here, Jess - a girl from the upper east side of Manhattan, with an uncanny penchant for impressions and voices, braved a tumultuous obstacle course this week. While shopping at Wu Mart, she was planning on purchasing this packaged bread that has become a staple in so many of our diets here; yet prior to checkout, and to Jess' horror, she glanced at her intended purchase only to find a large, dead mosquito proudly reclining on her beloved bread. Her ever present smile abruptly morphed into a disapproving scowl as I, true to form, exploded into a burst of uncontrollable laughter. That same week, Jess ordered a scallion pancake at the noodle restaurant down the street, and was pleasantly greeted with a long, black hair after having delicately taken her first bite. Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...

In other news, the monstrous shopping market that is Yashow introduced me to the wonderful world of Chinese pirated DVDs. I had been pining for any taste of trashy American television, and was at last comforted by the first installment of my future voluminous DVD collection. Whether a romantic comedy like 27 Dresses, a witty indy film like Juno, or the still-in-theaters Sex and the City, they are now all here (legally) for my viewing pleasure. Oh the joy...I'm now a VIP member at the DVD store there, which is somewhat pathetic, but I keep telling myself that most people came on this program to China to reconnect with their roots. Buying DVDs at Yashow is just my method of keeping in contact with my own child-of-the-entertainment-business, Hollywood roots.

All of this shopping, however, has ushered us into the newest phase of Beijing life, the mantra being: "Eat less, go to Yashow". We are given a 350 RMB stipend each week for food and other necessities while we're here, and my friends and I have decided that if we eat wisely every day, we will have more money to spend at Yashow each week. It's brilliant. Though we're really only talking about saving what would be about $3 or $4 on food, those few dollars do wonders in China - especially if you are an adept bargainer. You could even go so far as to say going shopping is an educational experience. for us After all, bargaining is an integral part of the Chinese culture, and I've been doing my best to practice as much as possible.

In complying with the rigorous demands of my new Yashow-driven lifestyle, I have added some new weekly food staples in addition to what was once only Ritz crackers. Thankfully, someone finally discovered the aisle in which the peanut butter was hidden at Wu Mart, and it is now safe to say that the foreign students have since wiped out Wu Mart's entire peanut butter stock. I've also found Cheerios here, which don't taste exactly as they do in the US, but are nevertheless surprisingly addicting. My friend has since labeled them "Zhonggros", Zhongguo being the word for "China" in Chinese. I thought it was quite clever. Lastly, Bimbo bread has managed to wiggle its way into all of our diets. I first remember buying Bimbo bread in Spain, and the name has since been permanently branded into my brain. What is white bread in Spain, though, is in China a small loaf embellished with red bean paste swirls. We 留学生 (liu xuesheng = foreign students) have begun consuming these small snacks in bulk, and often find ourselves daydreaming about the next time we'll eat one. Hopefully the title of this post now makes a bit more sense.

This was also the first week I braved the Beijing subway system. If you at first don't believe that Beijing is as crowded as everyone says, take the subway. You'll become a believer. The subway itself is pretty efficient, though the nearest subway station is a ten minute taxi ride away from the CNU campus. I haven't decided whether or not I'll be returning to the 地铁站 (ditie zhan = subway station) in the future, but I at least got the real Beijinger experience, which was furthered by my pathetic attempt to hail a taxi outside of the station to take me back to campus. Warning: do not get in the way of a Beijing 人 (ren = person) searching for a cab during rush hour. You will loose every time. Guaranteed. After five failed attempts, I happened upon a rather successful strategy: chase down an approaching taxi, place your hand on the door handle as the passenger exits the cab, and stare down all nearby taxi hawks. If you neglect to follow these rules, grabbing a cab is like trying to hail a taxi in NYC wearing a large Statue of Liberty foam hat, an I Love New York shirt, with a fanny pack around your waist. As a Caucasian, I'm an undeniable tourist, a trait that doesn't help too much in situations like this.

This was also the first week I had a Starbucks in Beijing. It was wonderfully familiar, but far too expensive for my new Yasho-driven lifestyle. Can't go to Yashow on the weekend when coffee costs you 30 RMB (about $4). Yes, it's about the same price in China as it is in the States, but I've adopted new standards since arriving here. I have begun to embody the stereotype of the parsimonious old uncle who thinks giving you 50 cents on your birthday is a valuable lesson. It might become a slight problem upon my return to the States. They say you lose weight when traveling to Asia because you don't eat as much, etc etc, but I'm starting to fear the opposite as I picture myself being escorted off the local Whole Foods premises after trying to bargain down produce prices. Oy.

Well, I think that's a long enough novel of a post for now. This week is the last before midterms, which means my trip is almost halfway done. I don't know which is scarier: that, or the midterms.

More later,
Tess

Chinglish in ChangCheng

First off, an addendum to the previous post:
Regarding the series of hospital adventures last weekend, I wanted to mention that while Hospital 304 was not the most comfortable of locations, the second and third hospitals we visited were clean and luxurious. More than anything else, it demonstrated the existence of a class system in what is supposed to be a classless system. The Chinese follow a Communist philosophy, in which all things are supposed to be equal for all people, whether it be access to food or access to medical care. What the experience last weekend showed me was that money can buy you better conditions wherever you go - even in China. Just being an American helps you climb the social ladders, because if you are an American, you are automatically assumed to be made of money. It is hard to live with the idea that to an everyday Chinese person, Hospital 304, which would be the equivalent of the USC medical clinic in Los Angeles, is the definition of a hospital; yet, there too exist "International hospitals" and spa resort-type hospitals that exceed the conditions that celebrity patients are offered at Cedars Sinai. Has the Communist system led to a complacent acceptance of low quality facilities? Or are the communists evolving into capitalists?

That aside, this weekend we've managed to survive yet another Chinese adventure. You might think it involves climbing the Great Wall, and though that was an adventure in and of itself, it was not our most entertaining. The real adventure this weekend happened after we returned from one of the Seven Wonders of the World and involves the one thing you know that your mom will always be able to do better than you will - laundry. Now, this is no small feat in the land where spin cycles are dysfunctional and dryers shred your clothing. There have been many horror stories of innocent students, often with much practiced laundry skills, suffering at the hands of these seemingly ferocious, but essential mechanical boxes. Lucky for us, there is a laundry service on campus that we may use. But again, this is not quite like the ones in the States. Thankfully, they washed our clothes for us (for only 5 kuai, I might add, which is less than the amount I pay for one load of a washing machine back at Yale), but they for some reason left the drying up to us. So let's picture this: three girls walking a block from the laundromat of sorts back to the dorms, their arms full of sopping wet clothing, and...it's raining. It was quite the sight, to say the least. Now, my bedroom looks like a second hand thrift shop with shirts, shorts, pants, sweatshirts, and towels hanging from the curtain railing, cabinet doors, bathroom racks, and chairs. Oh yes, and the TV is covered in socks. Lots of white socks. We aren't quite sure when the clothes will dry, or if they ever will for that matter, but at least they're clean. Well, at least until the mildew settles in.

Now we can move onto ChangCheng, or the Great Wall - the more touristy adventure of the weekend. All of us students packed into two coaches for the three hours from Beijing to Simatai. Simatai is one of the less traveled parts of the Great Wall, and one of the oldest. It is not as well preserved as some of the more picturesque segments of the Great Wall, but don't fret, at least it was the steepest. We arrived at around 5 pm on Friday evening, settling into a beautiful little hotel on the base of the mountain that bordered a small river. Asleep by 10:30, we were up again by 3am to begin our hike up the mountain to the Great Wall. I don't know how the Chinese guards those thousands of years ago managed to run from tower to tower, because I couldn't even run from one to the next, let alone from Tower 1 to Tower 12. Every time we would arrive at one tower, we would carefully turn the corner, shyly looking upward, fearing of the amount of stairs that would greet us yet again. Without fail, every time we peeked across, there were at least 100 steps (just picture a neverending series of the Santa Monica/Malibu stairs), some of which were entirely vertical, one step level with my feet, and the next with my waist. It was more of a climb than a leisurely walk, but we finally made it to the twelfth tower, which is the end point of this particular section. Beyond it lies a poorly preserved segment of the wall, which has been closed off "due to multiple deaths". Though some people dared to cross the boundary, I had had my share of adventure for one day - and a brush with death didn't seem too appealing after climbing what seemed like Mt Everest. Although we had set out at 3am to catch the sunrise from the top, sadly, we didn't get to see any of it since the fog covered most of it up, but nevertheless, it was sort of this surreal experience. We were literally sitting amongst the clouds on one of the most ancient and fascinating physical structures the world has seen, and while I was probably more sweaty and sleep deprived than anything else at that point, I felt as if I had conquered THE massive wall. I know it's a little cheesy, but I couldn't help but picture myself looking up at the Wall from the base of the mountain as if I was an infantryman of an invading army. From that viewpoint, the Wall is intimidating, austere and punishing. It makes the Han Empire - China - seem almost like this majestic, impervious bloc. But from the top, it feels like you're on the top of the world. And yes, someone did bring back the famous Leo "King of World" moment from Titanic. I don't think anyone could resist doing so.

During this little excursion of ours, too, I noticed an interesting twist in many of my and other Chinese students' language patterns. Technically, we're not supposed to be speaking English at all while we're here, but finding that very hard to maintain, most of our English has devolved into a sort of Chinglish, in which Chinese words are substituted into English grammar constructions. For instance, a typical sentence may sound like "Wow, her Zhongwen today was hen hao", meaning: her Chinese today was very good. Or maybe, "I need to go to Wu Mei to mai some mianbao"; read: I need to go to Wu Mart to buy some bread. It's actually quite amusing, and I think most of us are fearing that the habits will stick, making certain Chinese phrases permanent fixtures in our everyday speech. So if I slip up and say, or write, something in "Zhongwen", bare with me, I'm stuck in Chinglish.

Another very important fixture of this weekend was the purchase of my new digital camera. While I didn't bargain as well as I think I could have (I cut the price in half, but it was still a little steep for my newfound bargaining mentality), I now have a working camera, which is the most important part. While it's sad to leave my old camera behind (after all, we've been through so much together), this also means that I will actually have pictures of my trip to China, which, hopefully, I will be able to upload at some point too - if the Internet ever runs faster than a 1996 modem connection.

That's all for now. I have to return to the daily grind of character memorization before tomorrow's class. More to come soon.

Signing off,
Tess

304

While modern skyscrapers and neon lights fill popular Beijing tourist spots such as Chaoyang, Sanlituanr, and Houhai, the city has retained aspects that bring you crashing back down to reality. Journalists, economists, politicians, and the like continuously remind us that China is experiencing unparalleled economic growth, but just as you begin to fawn over the seemingly unending display of modernization, you are suddenly jolted out of your reverie by the realization that China, despite all the buzz, is still a developing country. A very close friend of mine (and fellow Bulldog) contracted a serious illness last weekend, which forced her to stay in various hospitals over the course of five days. While the picture of a hospital in my mind doesn't exactly look like a carbon copy of Grey's Anatomy's Seattle Grace, it's still sterile, hygienic, and somewhat comfortable. Though we pay a fortune for medical care in the States, when we need intensive medical treatment, we can expect to be surrounded by a number of basic creature comforts, including clean sheets, a television, a couch on which visitors may sit or nap, and walls without mold or peeling paint. It is very humbling to discover that these are not universal expectations. It was not the image we were confronted with upon entering Hospital 304 here. For fear of finding myself in an even more uncomfortable location, I will refrain from writing a more detailed critique of our experience there, but I will say this: being in Hospital 304 made me realize that behind all the flashing lights still lies a China trying to catch up with its reputation.

In other news, despite the resultant exhaustion from a week of traveling between campus and nearby (or not so nearby) hospitals, the lessons we learned in class this week offered a welcome practicality. No longer are we learning about Mr. Wang's stint in the water commune, or how taichi has transformed a pudgy Little Zhang into a handsome young man, but rather how to express yourself if you're sick (which was quite ironic, given the weekend's events, that it was assigned for Monday), how to exchange money at the bank, talk to a taxi driver, and...bargain. Oh yes, I have finally been exposed to the wonderful world of Chinese bargaining, and while our "language practicum" assignment this week, which sent us out into the real world to practice our bargaining skills, initially frightened me beyond comprehension, shopping in Beijing was perhaps the best three hours of my week. In Chinese, to bargain is 讲价, or jiang-jia, and with each purchase, a remarkable sense of achievement seems to delude you into buying more and more things. It's like you're high on shopping, because you actually seem to think that you're the one making a profit off of the shopkeepers instead of the reverse. I'm convinced that it must be a shrewd sales tactic for vendors: make these foolish 外国人 (wai-guo-ren, or foreigners) think that they're actually getting a good deal and they'll keep spending...

I don't know if I was ripped off in the end, but still, getting ripped off in China means paying maybe $1 more for something than you would have if you were a native Beijinger. My proudest moment was getting two hair straighteners for my friend and me (girly, I know, but I wanted one). A single straightener was initially priced at 58 yuan, and I was able to whittle the price down to 65 yuan for two. I also bargained a fake Coach purse down from 150 yuan to 60 yuan, a ring from 35 yuan to 15 yuan, and a necklace from 35 yuan to 10 yuan. I would go on, but I'm slightly embarrassed as to how many purchases I actually made.

Now, it's a Thursday night, meaning I'm doing everything possible to postpone studying for the plethora of examinations that await me tomorrow morning. I turned on the TV in our room, hoping that an episode of Sex and the City or Grey's Anatomy would miraculously appear. I had no such luck in that department, but I did happen to discover a channel airing the 1980s sitcom Growing Pains - in Chinese. Not quite what I was looking for, but close enough. The funny thing is that I think I watched the show so many times growing up that, even in Chinese, I was actually able to get the gist of what the episode was all about. See, mom and dad, I told you watching all that TV growing up would benefit me in the end. Wanting to find an American show, I guess, was in a way a sign of my own "growing pains" as I adjust to rarely hearing spoken English outside of the dorms and not having American pop culture factoids lambast me every time I turn on the television. But somehow, it is refreshing to know that though these "growing pains" seem ever present, they are at least accompanied by some actual growth.

That's all for now. We're off to 长城 (Changcheng = Great Wall) tomorrow. Hopefully the trip there will present some equally entertaining stories for you all...

再见！

-Tess

Small World, Small Beijing

So another few discoveries for your enjoyment:

In China, almost all the "trendy" clothing people wear here has some sort of writing on the front or back. However, all of it is in English, furnishing us westerners with a very amusing past time. I finally got to be on the other side of the fence after all of those times my friends and I got henna tattoos, shirts, or jewelry with Chinese characters without having any clue what they meant. So far, my favorites have been: the "I'm too sexy for my cat" tee and the "Dark, scary barn...safe in here" shirt a woman wore at Wu Mart yesterday. Hopefully, these "Chinglish" tees can be a running theme throughout my blog as time goes one. I'll keep you posted.

In other news, a few of us ventured out for our first real Peking duck experience this week. Picture a four floor building, the sole purpose of which is to prepare hundreds of Peking duck (probably for unsuspecting tourists like ourselves) embellished with scenic Chinese paintings and traditionally clad waitresses. It is apparently one of the best known duck restaurants in Beijing, and for three whole ducks, pancakes, a beef dish, a chicken dish, two vegetable dishes, and tea, we all made it out with a $15 tab each. I'm not complaining.

Here is where the title of this post comes in. Friday night a group of us ventured out into the Sanlituanr bar district on the east side of Beijing to celebrate the end of what has been a pretty strenuous week of classes and exams (given the fact that it's summer anyways). There are two streets filled completely with bars and dance clubs, and after arbitrarily choosing which one to enter, not only do I run into one Yalie, but three! According to previous Light fellows, apparently this is a frequent Beijing occurrence, but I'm still having a hard time believing that I ran into more people I knew at one bar in Beijing than I did the entire four weeks back in Los Angeles.

I am proud to say that I have also made my best purchase here yet this week: a peeler! As some of you have read, for the past week or so the only food items that I had been consistently eating are Ritz crackers and yogurt. Actually, it may have been later that I discovered yogurt here, but we have finally tiptoed into what we've been told is the risky realm of fruit consumption. Missing what I'm sure is a wonderful summer fruit season in the States, ripe with fresh peaches, nectarines, apricots, grapes, strawberries, and cherries, it has been very sad not having the same access to fruit as I am accustomed to over the summers. Fortunately, Wu Mart came to the rescue yet again with beautiful ripe bananas, oranges, and watermelon. But what about the fruit with skins, you ask? Well, technically we're not allowed to eat the skin for fear of contracting some virulent stomach virus, which is where this wonderful tool comes into our lives. Normally, I find it a tedious task peeling cucumbers, carrots, potatoes, or what have you while home, but here it is a blessing, even a luxury. Now we are free to eat apples and pears, and I even risked eating an entire peach skin and all (only after a thorough wash, of course), and I'm still here to tell the tale. I am also proud to announce that the Duke program students have also discovered the jiaozi stand! Jiaozi are Chinese dumplings, nearly identical to Korean gyozi, or potstickers, and as my friend Jess said, I think they put some sort of addictive substance in them because we are constantly craving them. Although, if you ask my family, I think I've always been known to eat my fair share of dumplings. So, there is hope yet. Not to fear, though, I still have a bag of Ritz crackers in my desk drawer for emergencies.

Speaking of shopping, as you know, with the Olympics around the corner, China has launched a huge "Green China" campaign to reduce pollution and begin to remedy the notorious Beijing smog. In addition to TV commercials and banners, however, the Chinese government has implemented a law that requires you, as a consumer, to pay 1 kuai (what would be ~30 cents in the US) for every plastic shopping bag you use. If you forget to bring your own shopping bag, you're out of luck, unless you have a third or fourth arm hiding somewhere.

This new policy, so simple in its nature, is incredibly influential in practice. It affects nearly every individual (and that's 1 billion people we're talking about), no doubt achieving its ultimate goal. It makes me ask myself, if Communist China can begin to "think green", what is stopping the US?

All this aside, though, my habits haven't changed much since I've been here. A funny incident happened last night as two of my friends and I rushed back from Wu Mart. With a shopping bag in each hand, the three of us entered the lobby elevator, and knowing my luck in particular, what did we find when the doors closed? Only a huge, flying, Chinese bug! I told you it was just my luck. Now just picture three white American girls with six shopping bags running around in an elevator as it lifted us from the first to the tenth floor (ironically, it was probably the only time we have traveled that distance without stopping on another floor at least once), trying to escape the wrath of what I am pretty sure was a harmless insect. Some habits die hard.

One final closing note: I was browsing through the New York Times the other day on what is becoming an ever faster Internet connection, and I came across this article titled Prisoner of Normalcy. I sort of adopted it as my new anti-slogan. The fact that I have been able to travel halfway, if not all the way across the world to study in this culturally rich and fascinating place has allowed me to escape this idea of "normal" and begin to morph my life into something rich and interesting in and of itself. I think that too often we allow ourselves to assume the fetal position in our comfortable little nooks at home, afraid of getting thrown out of our homeostatic state. Crossing boundaries and exposing yourself to new ideas and experiences is what gives life meaning, and that is how I have begun to regard my time here. It's a time to challenge myself mentally, physically, and emotionally, and to keep evading the ever seductive state of "normalcy."

That's all for now. Until next time, 再见！

-Tess

From LAX to PEK and then some...

Hello!!

It has taken me five days to be able to access this blog site (China's notorious firewall as promised prevented me from even loading the page on what is an unbelievably slow Internet connection), but thanks to the Light Fellowship office and GLadder, a very helpful plug-in, I'm finally back in action.

After arriving at the dorms from the airport on Friday, I was greeted by a TV screen playing the Lakers game. Now, I thought this would be a wonderful "Welcome to China!" present, only to watch the Lakers fail miserably. And as I sit here typing now, I am watching the Lakers lose by 30 points in what will most likely be the Celtics championship winning game. It's too devastating to watch.

On a more descriptive note, I'm staying in a double on the 10th floor of Capital Normal University, which is on Beijing's Third Ring Road. It's not a very warm place, since all of the universities in China were moved to the outskirts of town during the cultural revolution to curtail protesting students from influencing other Beijing citizens in the city's center. However, we have been able to find some diamonds in the rough. There's a great noodle place down the road (when in China, you get used to eating lots of noodles) and a Sichuan cuisine restaurant farther down (although there has been one case of someone getting food poisoning from there, but for me so far so good.

Wu Mart, though, is perhaps the find of our time here. What seems like a small convenient store from the street morphs into a huge Costo-like market that sells everything from pots and pans to fresh fruit to Ritz crackers. We haven't been able to use the campus cafeteria yet, so Ritz crackers and yogurt have become staples of my daily diet. All the American snacks you could hope for are also found in China: Oreos, goldfish, Chips Ahoy, Nature's Valley, Extra gum, and Pringles. Maybe they're not the healthiest choices, but they definitely keep the hunger pangs at bay.

Our second night here, my roommate and I ventured out to KFC of all places. I've never been to KFC in the states, but if it's anything like the KFC here, I'll probably steer clear. I think I'll stick to the Chinese food.

I have managed one trip into the center of Beijing so far. One particular sight struck me the most: amidst the lights, Olympics posters, street venders, and rickshaws were a few teenagers probably around my age playing a familiar game in a building front. While at Yale last semester, a few of my friends (you know who you are) developed a game in which they tried to throw a ball through the openings in the stonework above the Farnam entryways. Having the ball pass through the biggest opening was Level 1, the second largest was Level 2, and so on. In China, these teenagers were playing this same game which we all tried so hard to perfect back at Yale, except with a basketball rather than a baseball. It was definitely a moment of cross-cultural understanding.

My roommate and I had another cultural experience last night. It seems as though every night the university is turning off either our water or our electricity from 11 pm to 4 am. Last night, it was water, and as the two of us were studying in our rooms, we realized that our water was about to run out. I ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and by the time my roommate was midway through brushing hers, the water stream started to grow weaker and weaker, until it would just spit out random gushes of water every other twenty seconds. We realized the toilet, the shower, and the sink were all done for the night, and suddenly our nightly routine was no longer as punctual and habitual as usual.

So I know this post has been a book's length, but it's easy to take for granted all of the things we have in the states that don't come so easily to people in China. My language partner (a Chinese university student that helps us with our language study) came up to my dorm room yesterday, a dorm room that I thought was pretty small given the spacious accommodations I was used to at Yale, and what is just a room for my roommate and me is the same size as a room for her and seven other girls. I'm used to fast wireless Internet, drinkable tap water (for the most part), relatively clear air, and a working laundry room, and yet while it was initially so hard to imagine life here without all of those things, it's slowly starting to seem like more and more of a possibility. I appreciate all the things I am lucky enough to have, and as cheesy as that sounds, it's true. After all, I have to find something to make me happy after this terrible Lakers loss.

Final score: 131 - 92

Now off to class. Until later, 再见! (Zai jian = goodbye)

-Tess