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