Stand-Down Mode from Korean Estrogen Invasion

Tina’s mother and grandmother flew in from Korea on Wednesday and finally left town again yesterday (a day earlier than planned). This week apartment was crowded with Korean estrogen. Since I am the only non-family member, I kept my distance and remained aloof.

During their stay, they decided it would be best to send the housekeeper away. Now that they are gone, Ayi (“nanny” in Chinese) is back. If you recall, I wasn’t too keen on our old Ayi. I thought she was lazy, inefficient, and a thief. It seems she stole 1,000 RMB from Lucy’s bedside dresser. However, the new girl has bumped up the standards.

I’m totally digging the new Ayi. She is a much better cleaner and is pleasant, quiet and always keeping up with us. My laundry no longer feels like an S.O.S. pad and she never tries to do things for me when I obviously feel like doing them myself – although, I admit I enjoy that she occasionally takes the initiative to get the tea stains out of my coffee mugs, since I always do such a poor job of it myself.

Kudos (do people still say that?) to the new Ayi.

Tricks and Treats

Today was Halloween and I decided to treat my students with a day-trip to West Lake. Incredibly, neither of them had been on a bus in China, even having lived here for well over a year now. We chilled out in a Starbucks for a while. They really needed to get out of the apartment. They are normally not allowed outside, apart from going back and forth to school, which is only just across the street. Even then they must be accompanied either by their guardian, by Ayi, or by me.

But Tina's mother and grandmother left this morning after a five-day visit to go back to Korea and their guardian doesn't come back until tomorrow. So, I've sneaked them out for a little fun. Harmless, I should think. These poor girls. Imagine having to keep something so innocent a secret from their parents. They aren't allowed to do anything except study, but they work so hard and, as far as I’m concerned, they really need a break. "All fun and no play makes Jack a very dull boy." I'm just trying to avoid a Stephen-King outcome. I don't want them to get cabin fever and come through my door with an axe.

Reena, my younger student, being on a slightly looser leash than Tina, took me over to her school last night for a little Halloween party. We were both bored by the childish activities, but it was nice to spend time with her. She is an incredibly smart girl and very mature for only 14. I am proud of her.

We felt bad for Tina. Her mother wouldn’t let her go to such a simple affair across the street to eat candy and have her face painted. Instead, Tina’s mother went out to dinner in Hangzhou with Tina's grandmother while Reena and I were gone, leaving Tina in the apartment all alone and feeling left out. It wasn’t much, but Reena and I decided to stop at the store on the way back home and buy some candy for Tina.

Slowly, I am introducing them to the idea of what it is like to balance their rigorous studying with some good clean fun. I’m sure their parents, if they knew what I was doing, would consider me a terribly bad influence and fire me immediately. But it is well worth the risk to give these girls a taste of fun, instead of eventually sending them off to college, knowing that a consequence of ‘study until you pass out’ (not an exaggeration) could result in their going wild once they get there, and perhaps doing something stupid and even dangerous. I don’t believe I am overstepping the line too far. But, are good intentions justification enough? After all, even though I believe I am acting in their best interests, I am not their mother.

Post, Posts, and the Posted

I admit I have been lax in writing for the past week or so. My time staring at the keyboard has been usurped by completing the application process for PhD programs. Finally, on Monday, after many drafts and revisions, I finished writing the last of my essays and writing samples.

On Tuesday, I went into Hangzhou to the International Postal Service and finally mailed off all my application materials. It feels good to be done, even though it has left me utterly broke. Mailing a few simple documents from China to the U.S. costs a ridiculous amount of money. In all, I spent well over $300. However, if the results are positive, it will all be worth it.

The list of programs was long – eleven schools, to be exact. I was a few months in narrowing down the list, but think I would be happy at any of the ones to which I have chosen to apply. Suffice it to say, I’m extremely eager and excited about the prospects of going back to school. The university environment is where I feel most comfortable and content.

With my task now completed, I have more free time on my hands. I hope to use a good deal of that time to get more exercise (which means more walks in Hangzhou) and to write more.

Chinese Fugitive

This was my last weekend squatting at a friend’s apartment in Xiaoshan. This morning, before I left to make the drive back to BinJiang, I had to turn in the key and electricity card to the property manager. I went down to the lobby with my trusty electronic translator and asked the woman at the front desk where to go. She escorted me around the building to a customer service center.

They wouldn’t let me turn in the key until they shut off the water. So one of the guys at the water company followed me back up to the apartment to shut the water off, but was flummoxed when the toilet kept running. It does that sometimes. You just have to take the backing off and push the lever down manually. No biggy. Of course, I couldn’t tell that to him. He was too impatient and kept trying to flush the damn thing repeatedly before the water even had a chance to rise.

While he kept fiddling with the toilet, I looked at the time and realized I needed to get back to BinJiang if I was going to have time to shower and lunch before teaching. I told him I needed to leave, that he should hurry. “Kuai yi dian.” But he was adamant about getting the toilet to stop running.

I figured I would be waiting half the day if I stayed; so, while his back was turned, I left the key in the door and gave him the slip. I didn’t take the elevator, since that’s where he would probably come looking for me when he realized I wasn’t there. Instead, I hid in the stairwell for a moment and snuck out via the fire escape on the side of the building. This way, if he called his buddies downstairs, they wouldn’t see me come down through the lobby. I ducked behind cars in the parking lot until I found my bike and then scooted the hell out of there.

They have no contact information for my friend, or me; however, they now have the keys and the security deposit. I figure we’re square. I had to laugh to myself as I drove away, because I felt like a fugitive. I half expected to see someone in my mirrors, running after me.

But that wasn’t the end of my morning. No, sir. I probably shouldn’t write about this, since I know my mother occasionally reads my blog and if she knows what happened today she might have a heart attack. You know how mothers can be.

Halfway to BinJiang I was hit by a car – again. I had a green light and some idiot ran the red. He was turning the corner and I was going straight. He didn't look. I can only go 40 kph on my bike, so it was more irritating than harmful. I thought for a second my bike was broken because it skidded halfway under his van. Luckily, I actually saw that it was going to happen, so I veered the bike sideways so that it wouldn't be a head-on crash.

My day felt like a regular Harrison Ford movie. At least he apologized, since he knew it was his fault. I picked up my bags that had sprawled across the road, brushed myself off, and kept driving. What else do you do?

Exposed

This evening, while waiting for the bus from West Lake back to Xiaoshan, I watched a haggard man bathe himself in a small fountain out on the street. He seemed to have no qualms about performing such an act in public and took ample time in it. He used a long, narrow strip of worn-out material for his washcloth. It looked more like a sash or a scarf than a washcloth. Nevertheless, he took each end in either hand and swished the wet material back and forth against his shoulders and lower back. The ritual looked like a dance, a jig – like the twist. He did it for a long time and with such vigor and enthusiasm I thought for sure he’d rub the skin right off his body. From afar it looked as though his hygiene was very thorough, and it would have been, had it not been for the lack of one essential cleaning element: soap. Water can do only so much, fella.

As I boarded the bus, I wondered if maybe my standards were set just a little too high and maybe I should cut China some slack on the cleanliness front. Then, I took my seat next to a tired-looking man who proceeded to try to drown two medium-sized cockroaches with massive gobs of phlegm-filled spit. I think I’ll keep my standards as they are, thanks.

More Saturday Social Studies

Have you ever lied about yourself to a total stranger? I have. I do it all the time. I tell people I’m from different countries all over the globe. Today happened to give me that opportunity again.

Another Saturday spent scouting West Lake. This is a terrific place for people watching. To me, people watching is the act of observing and does not include interacting. However, today a woman came up to me as I had my nose in a book and asked if I was from France. Taking my cue, I answered, “Oui.” Do I look French? Awesome.

What kills me, though, is that when she discovered I was French, she tried to carry on a conversation with me in English. Temporarily more interested in the short stories of Edgar Allan Poe and not really being in the mood for conversation, I knew just enough French to keep her confused for a few minutes before she finally realized I was beyond the bounds of her communication skills and left. Some people make no sense to me.

Do I feel guilty? Not really. When the mood strikes me, I can talk a person’s ear off. Earlier this morning, for instance, I shared a taxi with a man from the Philippines. We carried on for well over an hour and I was grateful for some English conversation. Subjects of travel inevitably ensued, as well as jobs, future plans, the difficulties of China, and finally the state of economy. So, I bear no guilt for brushing off the woman at the Lake.

After I’d had my fill of observations and macabre short stories, I decided to take in another movie. There was one English-speaking film and I didn’t care what it was. Fortunately, it just so happened to be something I was in the mood for: mindless and cheap horror tricks. It is October, after all, and Halloween is two weeks away.

“Rogue” was the English feature in Hangzhou. Killer Australian crocodile movie, very reminiscent of “Lake Placid,” but without the comic relief of Betty White. I’ll admit, there were a few moments I jumped in my seat. Yet, even though it isn’t the sort of movie you really need to pay that much attention to, I was finding it hard not to be distracted by all the commotion around me.

You know those annoying ads at the beginning of movies that tell you to please turn off your cell phone and no talking during the movie, etc.? Well, they don’t have that here in China. In China, you can chat at normal volumes with your buddy sitting next to you; you can light up a cigarette; and you can keep your cell phone switched on with full ringer volume. Hell, you can even strike up a phone conversation in the middle of the movie (no kidding).

I’ve sat during movies with a room full of 20 sugar-wired pre-schoolers on pajama day and it was quieter than the audience tonight. No matter how many times you spit out “Shhh!” they just don’t want to miss out on the opportunity to make noise. My two Chinese cinema experiences so far have left me with a major headache. That said, I’ve always loved going to the movies and I don’t think even these irksome quirks will stop me.

I Smell Fear

There are rumors of stricter internet blocking in China. Evidence is already materializing. Google and Yahoo already lose connection on a regular basis throughout the day, and I hear tell that there will soon be a ban on gmail. The reason is allegedly the government’s growing concern of pornography. I call shenanigans.

If it were only pornography they sought to purge, sites such as Facebook, Blogger and Twitter or Foreign religious sites would not be banned. Now there are even embargoes on certain Wikipedia sites, most especially (but not limited to) ones with any negative indications toward China. In fact, many sites, if holding information that may not paint China in a particularly gleaming light, are prohibited. It is a closing grip.

It is amazing enough that I even hear word at all about the Han and the riots in the northwest. But how do I hear about them? Not through Chinese media, but through the BBC (bless them). Fortunately, China has relinquished some control over major foreign news corporations, but only under pressure of looking like a tyrannical prison ward of the information highway. This was not the case a few months ago, when there was a block on sites such as MSN International, Google International and Live Search (among others). Even now, if you type in keywords that include “China,” you will most likely be censored? Why? Because China doesn’t want to look bad. The paranoia stretches far.

Note to China: The problem with trying to control 1.5 billion people: YOU CAN’T.