Difference

In class on Thursday night, we talked sbout the James Baldwin story, "Sonny's Blues.". It's a story I love to read and teach, in part for what Baldwin has to say about suffering and the ways we can transcend it, if only for a while. It was an intense class, and, as usual, I was fascinated by the ways our different cultures react similarly to some things and differently to others. For instance, I was searching for an example of how people can believe a lie so fully that they don't even have a hint of its wrongness, and I settled on the example of a girl with an eating disorder--the way she might be rail thin, starving herself, but when she looks in the mirror she sees a fat person. It seemed like a serious enough example of the sort of thing I was trying to describe, but my students' reactions surprised me. They laughed. They laughed a lot. I thought to myself, "I must have said something they misunderstood," so I tried again, and again they laughed. It wasn't a point worth pursuing, so I found a different example and moved on. It made me think about cultural difference, though. I'll have to ask somebody about this: maybe eating disorders are uncommon here.

When I was at the Terra Cotta Warriors Museum yesterday, my Chinese companions and I were walking toward the first pit when we passed some stores and food vendors. My companions started chatting in a pretty animated way and then stopped walking. One of them turned to me and asked, "would you like one of these?". She pointed to a food vendor standing behind a steaming pile of sweet potatoes. So different from the kind of food we'd sell at a venue like this. Or maybe not. Maybe we'd just slice them up and toss them in a vat of boiling oil before serving them. Anyway, I ate a hot sweet potato (just peeling and biting it as we walked) at 9am yesterday.



Since two of my favorite blog topics seem to be intake and elimination, here's a potty story for you. At the museum yesterday, my Chinese friend asked me if I needed a restroom stop, and I admitted to her my fear of the eastern-style squat toilet. She seemed surprised. Of course, she knew we didn't have them in the U.S. I think she was surprised because she had a similar but opposite fear. Fear of the western public toilet. She told me that in China, nobody has a squat toilet in their home. The western style is the norm there. It's only in public places that you encounter the squat toilet, and that's a bow to keeping things sanitary. She said when she went to the U.S. for the first time, she was surprised and kind of grossed out by the idea of using a western toilet in a public restroom. All those people sitting there before her: to her, it seemed so unsanitary. I told her about how difficult I found the public restrooms here, and she understood. Difference. I see it everywhere I look.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Terra Cotta Warriors

I've read that The Terra Cotta Warriors are the most significant archeological excavation of the 20th century. In 1974, some farmers, just outside of Xi'an, were digging a well not far from the tomb of the first Emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang (he ascended the throne in 246 BCE). The farmers uncovered some pottery that caught the attention of archeologists, who came to the area in large numbers to continue the dig. Over time, they dug three pits and found approximately 8,000 life sized terra cotta warriors and horses and 10,000 bronze weapons, all associated with the Qin Dynasty. The Museum of the Terra Cotta Army is remarkable, and it is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

I've also read that to come to China without seeing the Terra Cotta Warriors is a little like going to Egypt and skipping the pyramids. The site topped my list of things I wanted to see here in Xi'an, and today was the day. There are three pits, each in its own building, and they are truly remarkable. Pit One is the most stunning. This is definitely a case where pictures say it best. Here are some shots from Pit One.


















Of course, lots of repair work is necessary to get this army standing again. Here are some shots of that, as well as some headless warriors from Pit Two.


















After we toured all three pits, we boarded a bus to go to The Emperor's mausoleum. This area is like an enormous park. Lots of grass and gardens. The mausoleum itself is a grassy hill. See it behind that row of trees?






When we got there, there was a live show being staged, with dancers wearing traditional clothing from the Qin Dynasty. Here are some shots of that.


















As some of you know, I'm a garden lover, and there were some lovely ones here.






I am so happy to have seen this remarkable site. I can remember in the fall, I sat in on a world history class taught by my friend, John. He talked a lot about the Qin Dynasty and the Terra Cotta Warriors. I was fascinated, but it didn't seem real to me that I was going to see it. Today, it was very real. Here are a couple of shots of me and my friend and guide for the day.












Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Pride of Place

The Chinese people I've met so far seem really proud of their hometowns. So proud, in fact, that many of them have tried to impress upon me that I need to visit whatever town or province they come from to truly experience the best China has to offer. I wrote about the young woman on the bus who invited me to visit Hangzhou, a place she called "paradise on Earth." I just received an email from home, and in it a school colleague who I've never met ended her email by telling me, "Make sure you visit Chengdu, Sichuan China. I was born and grew up there.". Several of my students have hinted that I need to head to their birthplaces, too.

I don't know why this surprises me. Certainly, I know people in the U.S. who are hometown proud, but I think I know more people who think of their exit from their hometown as some kind of escape to freedom. Some of my students here have told me that their greatest sadness when they look to the future is that they may have to find a job far from their hometowns. How many American college students have I heard worrying that they might end up in theirs forever? I find this love of place kind of endearing. In some ways, it reminds me of the way I feel like the geography of the Great Lakes was somehow written into my DNA.

On a totally different front, over the last two days, I've noticed that Chinese is starting to sound familiar to me. I don't understand anything more than hello, goodbye, and thank you, but the sound of it has gotten into my head somehow. Sometimes, it sounds like English to me. Strange, I know. I was walking down the street yesterday, and I could have sworn somebody said, "hey Sue, how are you?" but of course that wasn't the case. And no, it wasn't a voice in my head. I guess when we're in a foreign place where no sounds sound familiar, our brains try to make meaning of them somehow. Or not. It's just interesting to me to see how the strangeness of a place or a language can kind of fade away and resurface over and over again. It keeps things new, I'll tell you that much.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Mountains, Mormons, and Money Laundering

Today was a much better day: a day when things worked exceedingly well. My class was just plain fun. We discussed two Raymond Carver stories, and the students loved them. I have them work for awhile everyday in small groups, and they're really taken to it. I watch them talking about the literature, then throwing their books open to search for evidence to support their ideas and--well,that whole heart swelling thing happens again. Those of you who teach will understand this, I think: you know that moment when you're explaining or describing something in class, maybe using a story to get it across, and you look out at their faces and something there let's you know that they're with you? That they're all with you? Well, as far as I'm concerned, that's just about the best feeling in the world, and it happened a few times today.

I left school a while after class ended, and I took the cushy foreign faculty bus home. As I stood waiting for it, I chatted with a few Americans, and I turned my head, and that's when I saw them. The mountains. The usually invisible, much anticipated mountains were just visible through the dust or haze that generally hides them. They were beautiful and so shocking to me that I gasped and said a little too loudly to no one in particular, "THE MOUNTAINS!". The couple from Utah who was standing next to me snickered a little, and the woman said, "Mountains? Those aren't mountains. You should see the Rockies.". Well I have seen then Rockies, and yes, they're much bigger, but these are magic mountains (no, Thomas Mann, no sanatorium up there). They weren't there for days, and then they were. Magic. I guess that makes the dust magic dust, doesn't it? Clearly this couple does not share my poetic sensibilities.

An American on the bus invited me to have lunch with her when we got back, so I had a nice long talk in a restaurant where I have some reason to believe everything I said made sense to the listener. She's an interesting woman. Widowed and retired, she decided to spend a year at XISU teaching English. She says her family is alternately proud of her and ready to institutionalize her. She's a Mormon--there's a large contingent of Mormon teachers here--and we talked some about her religion. May I say that she seemed pretty darned impressed with me at one point. She was talking about her hometown, and she said that there had been an historic massacre there, a big moment in Mormon history, and I said, "the Mountain Meadow Massacre?". I was able to toss around the big names like Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, told her what I knew about the Mormon's movement from New York to Ohio to Michigan to Illinois to Utah (she asked what I knew). What I didn't tell her is that all of my knowledge about the Church of Latter Day Saints comes from three sources: Mikal Gilmore's grim memoir about his family (primarily the infamous Gary Gilmore, Mormon murderer), Jon Krakaurer's scathing book about The FDLS church and polygamy, and the show Big Love. Don't think she'd be impressed. Nice lunch conversation, though.

I came home afterwards and did laundry, and somehow managed to launder $650 USD. I came back to the laundry room at the required time, opened the lid of the washer, and saw two soggy hundreds swimming around with my undies. Note to self: if you hide your money in the dirty laundry bag, remove before washing.

Finally, yesterday's problems have resolved. The graduate secretary took my cell phone, opened up the back of it, took some stuff out, put it back in, and the phone started to work again. I have no idea what she did, but if it stops working again, I know who to speak to about it. Then she told me shed lined someone up to escort me to see the Terra Cotta Warriors on Friday. Yippee. Finally, my blood sugar was a-ok today. Life is good again.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

High Drama and Low Blood Sugar

Well, I've definitely had an off day today. Right now I'm sitting in a restaurant on the campus next to the one I live in, feeling sort of defeated. Okay, that's completely dramatic, but I feel dramatic today. Since my illness subsided on Sunday, I've been having these bouts of hypoglycemia that leave me shaking and lightheaded when I least expect it. They also seem to make me especially noise sensitive in this city filled with honking horns and exploding firecrackers. This morning, I Skyped with friends, trying to solicit some non-professional advice about my little bouts, and it helped my blue mood. After I talked to them, I realized what part of the problem might be. Even though I'm walking everyday, I haven't been taking my daily long, brisk walks, and I do think those regulate my blood sugar (and my need to be dramatic). I took one this afternoon, and it made me feel a better. So much so, that I thought I'd call some new friends here to make plans for my days off.

That's when I found out my cell phone was dead. Not just in need of a charge, but dead as in no more minutes left. And I'm guessing that this has been the case since Saturday. A former colleague who has taught here many times called me on Thursday, before the illness set in, and we chatted a good long time. Goodbye minutes. No big deal, right? Just buy some more. Well, in the world of I-don't-speak-the-language, this feels supremely complicated...especially without a phone to call somebody for help. So, I emailed the department secretary who lives near me to see if she might be able to go to the phone store with me. No reply yet. I emailed a Chinese friend, too, but no response there either. This is a teeny tiny deal, I know. It has me in a state, though. I told you. I feel dramatic today. Of course, my neurotic fear is that people have been calling me since Saturday, and that they think I'm just snubbing them or just being the rude American. Drama.

High drama at the restaurant tonight when I tried to ask for a chicken dish. I truly have no idea what I'm getting. Wait, hold the phone. It has just arrived. I have a lovely plate of roasted eggplant, green beans, and peppers in a sesame soy kind of sauce, a small bowl of rice, and...let me taste it... Holy stars! That's the spiciest chicken I've ever had. Good, but hot. And every small piece is on a bone. How do I eat this people? Use fingers? Help. I'll write some more while I try to figure this one out.

I used an iPad app called iTranslate to order tonight, after much yelling, pointing, and frustration--that was from the serving staff. I said something like "I'm a dumb American. Surprise me with a chicken dish.". Lots of laughter and raised voices later...well, I'm eating. Oh, the waste I'll leave! I can't eat much of this spicy one, I'm afraid. Where are my spicy food loving brothers when I need them? I did manage to get the answer to a food mystery tonight. I sit near a carry out window in this place when I come, but the only thing they seem to sell at the window are these fat round dumplings/buns, about the size of oranges, all stacked up in bamboo steamers by the window. People line up to get bags of these things. I managed to point and look quizzical, and I was rewarded with a tasty sausage filled bun. I have to tell you, the sausage tasted just like the Polish sausage I was missing on Easter morning. Good things come to those who wait. Even drama queens.

I'm back home now. just to complete my dramatic day, I walked home through an actual dust storm. Swirling clouds of gritty dust were blowing everywhere, including into my eyes. Okay, I'm kicking my shoes off, turning on HBO, and vegetating until my mood improves. Don't call me. Oh wait, you can't. My damned phone is dead.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

English Spoken Here

I just loved my class today. We discussed a Hemingway story and a Russell Banks story, and I really felt like it was the first time when I was truly myself with my students. I've been trying to be so careful about using idiom-free English with them, to use simple words, and to enunciate clearly, that I think my personality just got totally lost in all of that over thinking. Today, I decided to see what would happen if I spoke at my usual clip, tossed in a few slang terms, and started to do what I generally do when I teach: tell stories about my life or my observations to clarify some point I'm making. Now, they could have been faking it, but they seemed to follow right along. When they were stumped, they let me know. For instance, they were totally perplexed by the expression "it was a close call." That involved a lot of stories by way of explanation.

I have felt like I'm adding to their English vocabulary by teaching them cliches of one kind or another. We had a conversation after class the other day about the meaning of "go with the flow" and "it's like a game of musical chairs.". What kind of English teacher teaches her students cliches? At home, I spend time asking them to avoid cliches. Go figure. I keep waiting for them to ask me to teach them swear words. Am I the only person in the world who wanted to learn dirty words in foreign languages?

On the bus home tonight, I watched a small contingent of young people near me push a young woman closer and closer to me until we were standing side by side. She stared at me intently in that way I now recognize as the I-speak-English-and-am-dying-to-speak-to-you expression. I gave her a big smile and said, "hi." We talked for the next forty minutes. She asked me who my favorite writers were, where I came from in the US, whether or not I was homesick, if I had had any preconceptions of Chinese people shattered yet, and where I'd travel to when I left Xi'an. I told her that two friends would join me in Beijing, and that we'd also go to Guilin and Shanghai. She told me, "you MUST go to Hangzhou. That is where I am from and I will show you around.". I told her that my friends and I had discussed the idea of going there on the bullet train from Shanghai, and she insisted that we had to go. She tells me that the Chinese consider this town to be Paradise on earth. Well, the bus came to the old campus where I live, and we both got off there. We chatted some more, and she told me that her English name is Rachel, and that she would be returning to Hangzhou in the morning to stay for ten months. She asked me for my card and wondered if it would be okay for her to email me so that I would know how to get in touch with her if I came to her hometown. She told me that my "lovely smile" had put her at ease and that she hoped she would meet me again in Hangzhou. Oh my. She was truly the sweetest thing. I think my conversation with her has helped me see that I need to talk to more people who give me that look. They want to practice their English, and I want to learn more about life here in China. I'm going to have to hang out my shingle: English Spoken Here.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Easter in China

I had a low key but interesting Easter Sunday in Xi'an. I'd typically be in my hometown today, enjoying A gigantic Sunday brunch with my family, preceded by Sunday Mass at their church. It's always a delicious meal, by the way: hometown Polish sausage, scrambled eggs, Easter eggs, Belgian waffles, Danish pastries, OJ, coffee, and so much hometown chocolate that your head spins. Makes me hungry just thinking about it. Miss you all, family!

This morning, my breakfast consisted of two saltines covered with peanut butter, a Fiber One bar, and a cup of instant coffee. Feeling sorry for me yet? Don't. It was fine, given that I've only just started keeping food down again. I spent some time Skyping with my friend, John (Skype has been working mostly great here, by the way. It totally eliminates the isolation that can come from traveling alone). By then, it was nearly lunch time. I love the little cafeteria girls, but I can't honestly face another meal there right now. Know how when you get sick, you always avoid the thing you ate just before the barfing started? Well, I can't very well stop eating Chinese food, so I have to walk away from the cafeteria for awhile. My Easter lunch was at the western restaurant near here, Village Cafe. Honest to God, I had a cheeseburger and fries. It came with these teeny tiny gherkins, and it was tasty as can be. I talked a little to another American couple there, so that was nice.

Next came my big adventure for the day: my very first solo cab ride in China. I won't lie. I was nervous. I'd asked a friend to write everything out in Chinese for me, and she did. I hoped in the cab (yay! He stopped when I hailed him!) and showed him the note that said, "I don't speak Chinese. Please take me to the church at 17 Wu Xing Street. Give me a bill when we get there.". And off we went to Easter Mass, Chinese style. The English service starts at 3:30, but I got there two hours early. My friend says cabbies take a two hour break in the afternoon, and she thought I should set out by 1pm at the latest. I thought I'd add in some sightseeing--the famous Bell Tower and Drum Tower are nearby--but after walking around the block, I realized I was extremely weak and very shaky. Maybe I'm not as recovered as I think I am. I knew I needed to sit someplace. Well, how about the church, silly?

St. Francis Cathedral is actually a famous sightseeing stop in Xi'an. It was built in 17-something, closed down completely in 1966, and then reopened in the '80s. The grounds of the church were filled with sightseers, panhandlers, vendors offering religious booklets, and, presumably, people waiting for the 3:30 Mass. The exterior is fascinating. The front looks like any old Catholic church in some ways, but the sides are most definitely Chinese. Here are some photos of the exterior.









The inside of the church was something to see, too. First, it was so colorful. The details on the ceilings and around the icons of Saints reminded me some of Spanish or Portugese tiles. The place was full of people. Some were praying or reading religious booklets, others were chatting softly, some were taking photos. Lots of people were sitting on the kneelers, resting their heads on the pews. There was a guy in a white robe cleaning the place for the upcoming Mass, and the choir was practicing a bunch of songs in English that I actually recognized. Let me say, they were hilariously bad, but their hearts were in it. So, the guy cleaning the place was dusting the pews when he saw a couple of women sitting in the kneelers with their shoes kicked off, and he had a fit. He didn't make them get up, but it was clear he was furious that they'd taken their shoes off in church. He whipped them into shape, then he looked at me and started coming my way. My shoes were on. Really. I started to panic a little, though. He came over to me, said "hello" in English and then he said, "Happy Easter. This is for you today.". Then he handed me a decorated Easter egg! He had a gigantic smile on his face, and I did, too. I didn't see him give an egg to anyone else while I was there. I felt pretty darned special. Here's the egg, which I carefully carried home to photograph. I wish I'd asked what it said.






As I waited for Mass to start, I snuck in a few photos. It's really a lovely little church.









The Mass was very nice, and the priest was clearly an experienced English speaker. I was surprised by how many Chinese people were in attendance, given that religious practice is not the norm here. In fact, as far as I could tell, I was one of only four or five westerners.

The cab ride back was uneventful, and I topped off my Easter Day with a little pizza for dinner. I have some Dove chocolate here that I bought at the grocery the other day, so that could be my nightcap. Geez. Let's hope my stomach holds after this day of disgusting junk food. Happy Easter, folks!

Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

A Well-Balanced Life

I've been thinking a lot about balance since I arrived in Xi'an. Not the kind of balance so many of my friends and I try to achieve between our work and private lives, but about the very literal, physical ability to achieve balance. My sense of balance stinks. Forced to walk a straight line, I'd stagger like a drunkard, both before and after happy hour. If I stand on one foot for longer than five or ten seconds, I fall over. I know, I know. Nothing a good yoga class wouldn't cure.

Now, I won't make any sweeping generalizations about physical balance and the Chinese, but I will give you a few examples of some stunning balancing acts I've seen this week. Last Saturday, as I waited for the bus with my graduate assistant, I watched people on motorized scooters weave in and out of traffic. Just before my bus pulled up, I saw a scooter fly by with a family of three on board. Dad drove, as mom kept her arms wrapped firmly around their baby--but not holding onto the scooter at all. I watched them make a sharp turn around a corner near me, and I think I gasped out loud as they did. I was waiting for mom and baby to go flying, but she just shifted her weight effortlessly, and off they went.

Scooters and bicycles with multiple passengers seem common here. In the morning, on my way to school, I see dozens of bike riders with one, even two passengers on board. Frequently, the passengers sit "side saddle," holding a bag or some such thing in their hands but, again, not holding onto the bike at all. All this in extraordinarily heavy traffic, too.

My favorite images of remarkable balance are these. First, in a return trip home last week, I saw an old man on a bike, balancing (how?) a six foot high stack of wicker baskets on the back fender. I suppose they were tied down in some way, but I honestly couldn't see that they were. He peddled along at a brisk clip, his baskets swaying gently behind him. The night I went out walking to the Great Tang All Day Mall, we walked past a man on a scooter. In front of him and behind him, he carried yard-high stacks of open egg crates, filled with eggs. Again, I saw no evidence that anything besides this man's amazing balance skills were keeping the eggs from spilling out on to the street. It was like magic.

I keep telling myself that I should join a public Tai Chi class some morning in order to improve my balance, but I haven't seen one yet. Besides, I'd be a little like the clowns they trot out after the trapeze artists have finished their act at the circus. Nothing but clumsy entertainment.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Sports Meeting

On Thursday, classes at XISU were cancelled. My students kept telling me that the cancellation was due to a "sports meeting," and I wondered to myself, what kind of a meeting lasts all day and cancels classes? Well, my colleagues cleared that up for me. It was an annual, two-day long sports meet where students compete against each other in a variety of track and field events. Professors compete against professors, too! Happily, I was not asked to participate. I was invited to attend, though.

I missed the big opening ceremony, I'm sorry to say, but I made it for some of the student competition. I saw young men leaping over hurdles and young women racing, some barefoot. I was most intrigued by the stands. They were just full of colorful umbrellas, some the big patio variety, others the kind we carry on a rainy day. Here, you see young women carrying umbrellas on sunny days, and at the sports meet, it was definitely sunny. It was fun to watch the events, and even more fun to watch the crowd.

As I left, I passed a number of vendors who had set up booths to sell everything from cell phone plans to tee shirts to umbrellas. Lots of vendors were distributing brochures on one thing or another. A young woman approached me and handed me a piece of paper, all in Chinese. She spoke to me in English, though, explaining that she worked for a spa, and that if I went there, it was assured that I would become "more beautiful and more charming.". Alas, the address will remain forever hidden from me on that indecipherable piece of paper. Charm eludes me...again.

Here are some pictures from my day at the sports meet.












- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Some Things I've Seen

Thirty-six hours after the onset of my sickness, I'm beginning to feel better. This morning, I had some good old Lipton tea and Chinese saltines, and I'm happy to report that they're staying down. I'm not exactly well yet, but am definitely better. I expect that by tomorrow I'll be fine. Many thanks to those who checked in on me, both here and from home. Being sick in a strange place can be a lonely experience, but I have to say that I felt very well cared for during this little sickness.

One of the worst things about being sick while traveling is the time lost. I had planned to do lots of sightseeing this weekend, but that will have to wait. So, in lieu of telling you about the new things I've seen this weekend, I'll tell you about some things I haven't yet written about. Well, actually, I did write about them, but that post was lost someplace in cyberspace, it seems.
So here are some of the small new things I've seen during my first week in China.

When I landed in Xi'an last Friday night, I scooted into the restroom on my way to baggage claim. Half asleep, I was so relieved to find a western style toilet, that it took me a moment to notice the small incense burner smoking away on the floor in the corner of the stall. Who needs Glade?

I continue to be the subject of stares and photographs here in Xi'an. It makes me laugh on a daily basis that I attract so much attention. At home, I'm just another invisible middle-aged woman, so this is truly something new. I don't know if it's the fact that I'm a westerner or my blonde hair that makes me stand out. Both, probably. Nonetheless, on the streets, on the bus, in the grocery store, even at school, I am stared at. Often, I think people want to speak English with me. The other day on the bus, a young man stared at me so intensely and for so long that I felt uncomfortable. Then, as he was leaving, he looked at me quite pointedly and said, "excuse me.". I think in the future, I'll ask those staring if they speak English. It would be fun to speak to more locals. My students continue to photograph me in class. I need to ask them what's up with that. For now, I'll take it as a compliment!

The other day, I finally saw something I'd read about: toddlers in split pants. I think this is part of the potty training plan here. Instead of outfitting kids in diapers, they have these ingenious split pants that allow a kid to use the bathroom without the parent having to disrobe him every time. I could have used a pair of these the other day at school when the Go-Girl failed me. Luckily, I was wearing a dress, but suffice it to say that I was glad to have a ziplock bag in my purse so I could stash away my undies. I prayed all day that no swift wind would come along to create a Marilyn Monroe moment.

Since I'm photographed so frequently here, I'm starting to get over my discomfort in photographing strangers on the street. There are so many images I'd like to capture but can't bring myself to take: the men who sweep the streets with their unusual brooms, the women who cut pineapples into swirly chunks served on sticks, the line dancers and kite flyers. I did ask an old man out flying a kite the other day if I could photograph him. He laughed and laughed, and he seemed pleased that I wanted his picture. It didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped, but here it is.







- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Sick

Sorry for the silence. I'm sick. I seem to have picked up a big, bad stomach bug. Luckily, it hit on the first day of a long weekend, so I have time to recuperate.

My Chinese colleagues have gone out of their way to be helpful, bringing me a case of bottled water, two varieties of crackers, and four rolls of toilet paper. I've had six visitors and three phone calls inquiring about my health. Tonight, they're bringing me tea and apples, and if I'm up to it, tomorrow they'll take me out for soup. How's this for embarrassing: while the last two visitors were here, I had to excuse myself to be sick. Nice. Oh well. Nothing I can do about it. I'll feel better eventually, and when I do, I'll write more.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Springtime in Xi'an

Springtime in Xi'an is lovely, as far as I can tell. It's hard to make pronouncements like that when you've only been in a city less than a week, but it's been a great week, weather wise. The climate is quite dry here. It reminds me of Arizona, as far as the low humidity goes. I'll be out walking, and I'll suddenly realize that I'm very, very thirsty, like all of the moisture has been sucked out of me. Of course, I'm told that May can be rainy here, so maybe the humidity will creep up a bit. I hope not. I can do without that sweaty sauna feel in the air.

One thing I'm having trouble adjusting to is the dustiness of this place. Xi'an is on a plateau, surrounded, at least in part, by mountains. I guess the arid climate, the wind, and the lack of vegetation on the mountains result in dust. Or something like that. The end result is that there's a fine dust in the air most days, and it settles onto floors and furniture, cars and streets and business signs. Some days, i think I can feel it settling into my lungs. I definitely get it in my eyes. Honestly, if i hadn't seen the mountains when we were flying into Xi'an, I wouldn't know they were there. I don't know if its dust or something else that blocks their view, but i haven't seen them at all. Anyway, there was a bit of rain yesterday, and the air felt lighter to me afterwards. I've heard there can be some big dust storms here; that's something I'd prefer to miss. I've also heard that Beijing is even more dusty, so I'll have that to contend with next month.

Right now, Xi'an is bursting into bloom. Here are a few photos for you flower lovers. Oh, by the way, the World Horticulture Expo is in Xi'an this year, and I'll be here for the opening. I'm really looking forward to that.













- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Light and Dark

Last night, one of my Chinese colleagues invited me to go walking with her. She wanted me to see an area about 50 minutes by foot from the old university where we live. Spring evenings here are splendid: low humidity and cool breezes. We walked through our campus, then through another campus, down a busy commercial street that looked much like the part of town I live in here, and suddenly we entered a beautiful, upscale neighborhood called the Qujiang New Area. Expensive looking boutiques, interesting restaurants, and fancy condominiums lined the streets. This was a side of Xi'an that I hadn't seen before. But the real surprise was a few blocks away: The Great Tang All Day Mall, a gorgeous pedestrian district, home of the Xi’an Grand Theatre, Xi’an Concert Hall, Qujiang Art Museum and the Qujiang Pacific Film Art Center. All of the buildings are built in a style reminiscent of the Tang Dynasty. Down the center of the street is a boulevard with reproductions of the terra cotta warriors and other famous ancient sculptures, stunning fountains, and wonderful landscaping. And best of all, everything is covered in lights. It's like Christmas on steroids here. There were lights doing things I've never seen lights do: drip like water, for instance, or hang, seemingly from the clouds, in the night sky.

We walked for a long while, and then just in front of me was the ancient Big Wild Goose Pagoda. Originally built in 652 during the Tang Dynasty, it is a Buddhist holy place--a repository (back then, at least) of holy writings brought from India for safekeeping. It was too dark to photograph it, so I'll have to go back. In the area just in front of the pagoda is a park and public square, and last night, and every night, it was filled with people. Children roller skated through an obstacle course of small orange cones, tourists filed off of buses to take flash photos of the famous pagoda, and best of all, dozens of Chinese men and women performed line dances to music blaring from a P.A. System. Row after row of them in perfect synchrony. It was wonderful. My companion says that this is just one of many forms of public exercise in China. We saw a group on campus later doing the same thing, and I asked my friend if I was allowed to join them sometime. Of course, I'm not a dancer, but this looks like big fun, so I might just be willing to look foolish in order to try it.

It was fully dark as we walked back to campus. Crossing the street in Xi'an is a high-risk adventure sport, made even more challenging by darkness. When the walk light turns green, cars turning the corner into the crosswalk NEVER stop, so pedestrians are left to do a frightening start-and-stop dart across very wide streets. My companion said she believed that the cars would stop within a half inch of hitting a person; still, it takes enormous faith to cross a busy street here. In my case, it also took help. My friend took me by the hand several times to scurry me forward, and she grabbed me by the shoulder a couple of times to bring me to a halt as I mindlessly stepped out into traffic. Honestly, this part of the walk made me seriously concerned about sightseeing by foot in bigger cities, like Shanghai. I guess I'll cross that street when I come to it, though.

Here are some pictures from last night's walk. The darkness worked against me, so you'll have to use your imagination a bit here.




































Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Teaching, Day One

Yesterday was my first teaching day at XISU. I'm always a little jittery on the first day of classes at home, and it was no different in China. I was able to take the faculty shuttle from the old campus where I live to the new campus where I teach, and that was a comfortable and relaxing way to travel. I met a couple from Utah who are here for the year teaching spoken English. They each teach seven classes! I felt a little pampered when I told them I was only teaching one class. The ride calmed my jitters some, and the American couple escorted me right to the English Studies office, so there was no getting lost.

I wish I could explain adequately just how considerate the people at XISU are. I was introduced to the associate dean, who said the most flattering things about my credentials and invited me to meet him, the dean, two other professors, and a government official for lunch on Wednesday. The graduate studies secretary made sure I was well situated in my office, showed me how to make the computer work in English (mostly), and helped me figure out how to adjust my schedule for some upcoming holidays. There was a knock on the door at about 11, and there was a young man there to deliver a giant water dispenser for my office; he came back later with a delicious lunch for me without my even having to ask for it.

Of course the big event of the day was meeting my students for the first time. I have twenty in the class, 18 women and two men. They are unbelievably sweet, respectful, and so eager to learn. I had them introduce themselves to me--their names, why they were taking the class, where they come from, etc.--and the answers they gave were the kind that would make any professor's heart swell. One of them told me that she hoped I could help her understand post-structuralist theory; another said that the opportunity to learn in an American style was what drew her to the class; one other said that she was excited to be in a class where she could interpret the literature and offer insights that would be discussed. And they have the most wonderful English names (another kindness: they knew I would stumble over their Chinese names): Shadow, Leafy, and Candy, for example.

Any fears I had about active participation were completely squashed yesterday. They were eager to speak. I'm happy to report that they laughed in all the right places, too. I was a little surprised by the fact that several of them took out cameras to photograph me, but it made me feel better about the fact that I want to photograph them soon. I think my favorite moment in class yesterday was during a discussion of their views of Americans and of the U.S. Certainly, they hold as many stereotypes about us as some of us do about them, but much of what they said was on the mark: our love of independence, our ability to be direct and speak our minds, our access to media that isn't reluctant to assess our government. One student raised her hand as we talked about the media. "I have a question," she said. "are American women really like the "Desperate Housewives?". I laughed out loud, of course, but it was a serious question, and it led to an interesting discussion of media and stereotypes. At the end of class, many of them stopped to thank me. It was fun, and I'm looking forward to the rest of the month with them.

One last success yesterday. I am thrilled to report that my first encounters with a non-western style toilet were successful. The Go-Girl is my new best friend.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Adventures in Eating

I have no idea what I just ate for dinner. It was gelatinous and delicious: two words I never imagined placing in the same sentence. Frankly, it was slippery as can be, too--a real challenge to my slowly improving chopstick skills. Whenever I eat lunch or dinner at the cafeteria, the servers bring me a small bowl of rice and three small, saucer sized dishes of food. With the exception of the day my Chinese colleague went with me and identified my food for me, every single dish is a mystery to me. Well, to some degree. I can identify the beef and the chicken, but the veggies are much more difficult. Tonight, one of the dishes was definitely some kind of Chinese sauerkraut and chicken. Loved it! The other dish seemed to be chicken and cabbage, too, but not pickled. Then there was the jello-veggie dish. And soup! I forgot about that. They take pity on me when there's soup and bring me a porcelain spoon.

So, I think the servers have me on a diet. I've described the portion sizes above--it's really plenty--but you should see the massive amounts of food they deliver to the other tables. I think this is what happens when you don't have the common sense to know some of the language when you go to a foreign country. When you sit in a restaurant and stare blankly at the servers who are clearly trying to ask you what you'd like, but you remain mute and hope for the best, you simply cannot complain about any aspect of what they bring you. You just have to be thankful that they feed you. And I am.

Plus, you should have seen the huge smiles I got tonight when I came in. I skipped dinner last night and went to a restaurant in town for pizza, and I like to think the girls missed me. I had my iPad and was reading, and they each walked by slowly to get a peek at the device. There's one girl who I have thought was totally frustrated by me, but she came right up to the table tonight to have a look at the iPad. I showed her the Pollock app (look it up if you don't know it) and she giggled at my demo. So sweet.

I know I'll reach a point when I'll need a long, long break from Chinese food, but for now, my mystery meals are just right.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Campus Tour

I feel like I heave my bearings on the old campus where I live now. Well, mostly. On Saturday afternoon, my graduate assistant picked me up and took me, by bus, to the new campus where I'll teach. She really went out of her way for me. She took the 40 minute ride to my rooms, then turned around and went back with me to show me around. Then she traveled back with me to make sure I made it safely. So kind. The bus ride was interesting. I saw dozens of big, jelly fish shaped balloons flying over local businesses, beautifully landscaped city parks filled with gardeners in huge straw hats, and another a big park that seems to be reserved for kite flyers. The kites were beautiful. The first ones I saw were shaped like enormous birds, and it took me a second to realize that the hovering hawks were really kites. The new campus is nice. My office is large, with a nice window and a big leather couch. On the wall, in Mandarin, is a large poster that my student tells me lists the expectations of English professors. I didn't ask her to translate it, though. I think ill teach a few classes first, then she can translate it for me and I'll see how I measure up. My classroom looks fine. It opens to an outdoor courtyard, so that will be nice on hot days. I'm looking forward to meeting my students. More on that later. Here are a few pictures of my office and the campus.





















- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Saturday Morning in the Neighborhood

I woke up yesterday morning to the sound of birds chirping quietly. This was followed by the sound of Happy Birthday playing on some distant electronic bell tower. Such a contrast to the din of activity later in the day. Step one, make myself feel at home. This step seemed crucial to me yesterday, given that I knew that very little else in my day would feel that way. So I got up, heated up some water in my nifty electric kettle, and made myself a nice cup of Starbucks coffee. I turned on the TV, found CNN, and watched the news. Of course, step two involved several new things, so eventually, I had to dive in. I won't go into depth about my shower. I'll just say that all the websites that I'd read about getting sick by drinking tap water--even the teeny bit you ingest accidentally in the shower--gave me pause. This fear was eliminated later when I mindlessly ran my toothpaste under the tap water running from the sink faucet and shoved it in my mouth. Whatever. Cipro may be my new best friend.

Breakfast was hilarious. I went to the cafeteria--no line; more of a restaurant style place--and sat down. Of course, I was the sole English speaker in the establishment. Three lovely young Chinese servers gathered around me, each speaking louder and more emphatically than the next, trying to figure out what I wanted. I made the usual hand-to-mouth eating motions, but that seemed to increase the talking. Finally, they started to speak to a Chinese gentleman at another table. He turned to me and asked, "do you speak French?". Of course, he said it in French but the iPad's autocorrect function has convinced me that while I might remember the entire "Bonjour, Guy!" dialogue from high school French, I can't spell the words. I managed to say, in French, that I wanted breakfast. Then there were lots of French questions I couldn't understand. Eventually, the servers left and returned a short time later with three plates: one with three slices of toast, one with a fried egg, and one with a spoonful of jam and butter. Merci!

At ten, one of my Chinese colleagues generously met me at the hotel and took me on my morning adventure. Our plan was to go to a cell phone place to get minutes on my borrowed phone, go to a place called Unicom to see if I could get a SIM card/data plan for the iPad, since the Ethernet cable in my room wasn't functioning with the device I brought from home, then go to a grocery store for some necessities. I can't tell you how much I appreciated her help. Any one of these tasks would have been a day's work for me, I think, but she made it all supremely easy. The walk itself was fascinating. I'll post pictures of my neighborhood later, but the setting is definitely urban. Storefront after storefront filled with restaurants, little shops, small businesses, and the streets just teeming with people out on a warm Saturday morning. We passed a fruit market selling enormous swirl-cut chunks of mystery fruit on sticks that looked delicious, while in the buildings above were apartments with lines of laundry stretched across their balconies. Old men with exotic looking brooms swept the streets; people rode past on bikes towing trailers full of unusual green vegetables. Teenagers walked down the street, their heads turned towards their cell phones and the texts they were writing, while older women walked by holding hands, or older men strolled past, their arms linked.

The grocery store was more of a superstore, selling everything from prepared duck's neck to fresh veggies, to clothes and office supplies. I got the necessities: water, a loaf of bread to go with the peanut butter I brought from home, a notebook for school stuff, a towel, some toilet paper in enormous hole-free rolls, and a bottle of Chinese wine. As we were heading for checkout, my friend, Xiaohua, took me to a big case of prepared meats to point out the chicken feet, pig's feet, cow's stomach, duck necks, etc. Honestly, everything looked pretty tasty.

Our morning ended with a visit to the school cafeteria, where Xiaohua explained who I was to the serving staff and told them to simply bring me food when I showed up. I'm hoping this means no more pantomiming or high school French. Lunch was delicious, by the way, chicken and water lilly roots, beef and onions, spicy bean curd, and rice.

Here are a couple of bad shots of the neighborhood. More later.













- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

First Day in China

What a couple of days I've had. Yesterday's travel was seamless. I think the thing that surprised me the most was how stress-free I was. I will admit that in Shanghai and then later, in Xi'an, I stood at the baggage claim belt for an impossibly long time, and I did have that familiar feeling of dread that accompanies the thought of lost luggage. But both times, my battered bag showed up. The travel itself was easy, and that surprised me. My usual navigation method involves asking many people en route for directions, and this seems to work in China, too. Granted, it's more effort, but it works. I just trusted the directions they gave me, and off I went. Plus, I was delighted to be fed well all the way here. Even on the 2 hour flight from Shanghai to Xi'an, they fed me dinner! Of course, I slept through much of that last flight. I even slept through take-off, which I've never done before. I had a horrible disorienting moment when I woke up and looked out the window to see the plane surrounded by white. No apparent clouds, just whiteness. It took me a few seconds to figure out that we were in the air.

When I arrived in Xi'an, I was met by one of my Chinese colleagues and whisked to my hotel where I met a second colleague who came bearing a bag of apples for me. They were both extraordinarily kind, and they got me settled in for the night. My hotel is a suite with a spacious living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The building is old, but it's clean and comfortable (see photos below). Oh...and I have a flat screen tv in both rooms (I get CNN and BBC...and lots of Chinese stations). Slept well last night on the hardest bed I have ever encountered, and I awoke to an adventure-filled day that I'll write about later.


















- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Shanghai Airport

Well, I'm in China. I'm sitting in the Shanghai airport, sweaty as can be (fleece? Really? What was I thinking?). It's so quiet here. Not at all what I expected of this gigantic airport. I'm just about to hop on my plane to Xi'an, so this will be short. Just enough to say I've arrived, changed money, made my first purchase with RMB (water) and the biggest thing: I haven't gotten lost yet!

The Longest Flight of My Life

Hour eleven in the air. I'm on my third in-flight film (watched three TV episodes, too). I've flown over the North Pole and I'm on my way over Russia. Sometime around 2:20 am home time, I'll land in Shanghai. A couple of hours later, I'll land in Xi'an. Right now, I'm just sitting around in my compression stockings, sipping red wine, and watching Gulliver's Travels with Mandarin subtitles. I've been getting up once an hour to walk around the plane (I have a little blood mutation that can cause clots, so walking is compulsory). The flight has been great so far. I have a comfy aisle seat next to a gentleman who has been asleep almost the entire way. I have my personal movie screen, my books on iPad, and lots of pillows and blankets. I could do without the kicking kid behind me, but he's not an enthusiastic kicker, so it's okay. I still can't quite believe that I'm going to China. Given that I'll get there way, way past my bedtime, I'm guessing it will feel like a dream for a while.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Off I Go

Well, here I sit at the hometown airport, ready to begin by great big new thing. I feel compelled to set lots of western foods and drink coffee this morning, even though I've been told there's a KFC right across the street from my apartment in Xi'an. I laughed at myself last night. I was going out to dinner--no food in the house--and was thinking about what I wanted. Chinese, I thought. Then I reconsidered and had a salad.

I'm told it's possible that I won't have much Internet access in Xi'an. I'm taking my iPad and an Airport Express set up by a kind, tech-minded friend. I'm hoping to create my own wifi hotspot in my room. We'll see. If this is my last blog post, you'll know I had no access. Time to head for the gate and the first leg of my 24-hour plus journey. I'm surprised and delighted by my calm state. Maybe my China self is neurosis-free. Maybe I'm just too tired to worry now.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Tackling My To-Do List

I'm in countdown mode now. Four days until I fly out. Four days and four thousand things to do. I'm at that point where I feel so overwhelmed by my to-do list that I can't actually do anything. It'll pass.

I accomplished two things today. First, I met with a colleague who just returned from China, and she gave me lots of valuable information: phone numbers of the many people who can help me make my way in Xi'an, tips on the best restaurant in town for western food, the best hotpot restaurant, the best grocery store. Details about how to buy a big jug of water for my room, hire a cleaning lady if I want one, take a city bus, or where to buy minutes for my cell phone. Then she told me that there were no western toilets at the university where I'll be teaching. For those of you who don't know, our handy-dandy sit-down toilets are not a worldwide standard. In China--and in many other countries, I'm told--the toilet is sometimes a hole in the floor that you squat over. Well, I'm sure it's nowhere near as primitive as that sounds (there is flushing involved). This lead to my second accomplishment for the day.

Introducing the GoGirl (www.go-girl.com). The thought of my weak knees giving out mid-squat or misdirected urine running down my leg just before class concerned me. Thanks to my traveling genius friend, Debbie, I found the GoGirl. As it's described on its pretty pink packaging, "GoGirl allows women to urinate standing up. It's hygienic, portable, discreet and reusable.". Basically, I've masculinized my peeing. I tried it for the first time tonight, and it was perfect. I aimed and fired; no mess, no stress. To paraphrase the product's slogan, I won't be taking China sitting down.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The Quest for Perfect Pants...and a New Thing Update

I've been on a quest for the perfect travel pants lately. I've purchased and returned several pairs. I thought I'd found a great pair at Eddie Bauer. They were black, fit well, and were made of a fabric that seemed to dry in the washer's spin cycle, but when I wore them, they whipped themselves into such a state of static electricity, that I spent the day wriggling myself free of their cling. Thank goodness for EB's generous return policy. Next, I tried a pair of TravelSmith lightweight jeans. Like the EB pants, they're made of a quick dry fabric, and they pack up pretty neatly, but today I wore them in the sun and, one hot flash later, I knew they weren't going to China with me. So the search was on again. Late today, I think I found them. They're lightweight, light colored, cling-free, they roll up for that questionable middle-aged Capri pant look, and they have a fabulous array of pockets. I'll be test wearing them this week.

On another, totally unrelated note, here are my New Things for March: first, I broke up with my hairdresser (no, I didn't actually tell her) and found a new one. Second, I went with a friend to a new wine bar in my neighborhood and we each had a flight of wine, a first for me. On the ordering end, it sounded like a fine idea: four teeny tiny glasses of different wines. Our own little wine tasting. Except that the glasses weren't tiny at all. Good wine. Bad headache. Finally, I booked twelve flights and nine hotel rooms in five different countries in March. I have a feeling that financial ruin could be my new thing for summer if I'm not careful. At least I think I can stop buying pants.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad