Sweet Morning Dew of Java

Coming down from blood-boil mode, getting caught up with LoLcats, getting snarky in some emails to old friends, and just being generally in the mood to spend some quality time with the computer. Now that the big C has left the country and the girls are off on their school field trip, I can try to get back to my Happy Place. The next five days are MINE.

I have been retraining myself to drink coffee again. It has been four years since I had my last espresso and now it is pure joy to splurge once more. My problem is that I am the coffee equivalent of an alcoholic. Once I’ve started, I don’t want to stop. Four years ago, I was up to four triple lattes per day (that’s 12 shots of espresso, folks). Not only did I give myself an ulcer, but also the caffeine was giving me the shakes and jitters, not to mention the fact that my heart felt like it was going to bounce out of my rib cage. Now I fear I may have set myself up for another relapse and then the inevitable detox. Coffee rehab, anyone?

Also on the better-news front, I have found a website proxy that allows me to post to my blog. It only works some of the time, and when it does, I have to be quick about it, for China’s internet spies are everywhere and they block me again within a few minutes. Nonetheless, the taste of those few minutes is sweet and the rush of a time-lock is thrilling. Who’da ever thunk that writing could be such an adrenaline-pumping race.

And then comes the approaching denouement of my sentence in Hangzhou. Parole in 33 days. Along with anticipation of a new city, new job, new whatever, comes also anticipation of new people. I hear there are some hot expats in Beijing. Maybe I can wrangle me up a Swedish dude. Or maybe German. I’ve always wanted to speak Deutsche.

Holiday Time - Or Close Enough

Last night I dreamt I was a polar bear. I rolled in the snow like a puppy with fluffy white fur and the other polar bears thought I was crazy. Even in my dreams – and as a polar bear – I am an outcast. Whatever. It was fun and it didn’t feel cold. Or rather, it did, but I liked the feeling. I figured this was just another way of letting me know I’m ready for the winter, ready for Christmas, and ready to be finished with Hangzhou and the rain. I want snow.

Dreams are such strange things. One minute you’re yourself, walking down a mountain with your family, overlooking a beautiful valley in Australia while a murdering thug tries to chase you down and turn you into a manikin (normal dream, right); the next minute, you’re a polar bear, like something out of Golden Compass, and bounding through the Arctic.

Then I woke up with “I’m the King of New York” stuck in my head from Newsies. An odd day, so far.

Starbucks has gone Christmas crazy and I’m ok with that. Usually I refuse to start getting geeked up for the holidays until after Turkey Day, but since it is such a comforting feeling while I’m so far away from home, I’m all over that business. Toffee nut lattes galore. They have Christmas music playing on a loop and each time I hear the Bing Crosby/David Bowie version of “The Little Drummer Boy” I get goosebumps and start to cry. I’m not sure what it is about that piece, but it gets me every year.

Countdown to Temporary Peace

You know those days when you try to avoid your boss at all costs? You slink behind desks, duck behind doorways, avoid the office coffee machine altogether… I’m having one of those days. Unfortunately for me, I cannot get away. This is the trouble with living where you work.

It is impossible to go two weeks without a visit from some female Korean relative. Mother, aunt, grandmother, whatever. I’m a bit of a loner when it comes to living quarters, so – to put it mildly – I have found it difficult to be bombarded with company and roommates 24/7.

Reena’s mother, Carol, has come to visit from Korea for the next few days. Yes, another mother from Korea. Here we go. I have many opinions about this woman, but none of them appropriate to post to such a public forum. Suffice it to say I gave her a not-so-affectionate nickname at the beginning of my four-month sentence.

On Monday, Carol will go back to Korea, both my students are leaving for a five-day field trip to the Northwest of China, and Lucy will be with her boyfriend in Shanghai. I will have a working week of peace and quiet with no smelly smells from the kitchen. In all honesty, I’m mostly looking forward to just being able to walk around the apartment naked.

Subbing

I’ve taken a second job as a substitute teacher at my students’ international school, across the street. Having only six more weeks left in Hangzhou, I figured it would be a good use of my time and a nice form of supplementary income, especially considering it may help make up for some of the expenses of my PhD applications.

Today was my first run. One of the high school English teachers was sick and I took over her 5 classes – two Language Arts, one modern literature, one journalism, and one AP English course. All right up my alley. All a joy. All a piece of cake and each one a relief. Finally, to be in a real classroom again.

The downside is that (along with bad canteen food) I had forgotten at what an ungodly hour school begins. 8:00 am, which means I now have 16-hour workdays when subbing. School lets out at 3:00 and I walk back across the street with my student-roommates, where I continue to teach until 10:30 pm. I’m exhausted.

However, during lunch I was grateful for English conversation with other adults and faculty members. At the end of the day, though, the school got a little surprise when the weather decided to drench us with monsoon rains and winds. The sky went practically pitch. I’ve never seen lighting like that in my life, even during Michigan’s tornado season.

Tomorrow’s expectations are these: I have been asked to sub for the second grade teacher. This will be my first experience with elementary students. I’ve done nearly two years of preschool and kindergarten, two years of university-level, and now six months of middle and high school-age students. After tomorrow, I’ll have run the gamut.

Halal Birthday

Yesterday was Lucy’s 32nd birthday. Her boyfriend, Louis, came to visit from Shanghai and we all went out (including Tina and Reena) for Indian cuisine, my favorite. There are three Indian restaurants in Hangzhou and the five of us trekked to all three to get service. The last, of course, was finally a success. The first two seemed to be practically empty and devoid of hosts or waiters. The third was a place I had been to before and was familiar with their food, so the wait was well worth it, in my opinion (free West Lake beer with the buffet!). The only thing missing this time was the belly dancer.

I stuffed my face with all the vegetarian dishes and even went up for seconds. The makings of my rare feast included heaps of plain nan, lemon rice, vegetable curry, mushroom chili, spicy red potatoes, veggie pakora, and an appetizer dish of cold chickpeas and cucumber with cardamom.

It had been a while since my last beer (my September trip to Laramie, in fact), so the amount of food helped keep me sober. I usually have absolutely zero tolerance for alcohol, considering my stomach/intestinal problems, but the West Lake brew is quite light and goes well with the Indian fare.

Tradition in Korea states that whomever drinks the last drop of beer will acquire great wealth. So, naturally, we were a long time wrestling the bottles from each other for the last dewy drop.

And of course, afterward, there was cake. There has to be cake. But Chinese cakes are not like what we are used to. They have practically no flavor and consist of mostly an airy whipped cream on top of the flavorless sponge. All the same, cake is cake and I ate some, then washed it down with another pint of beer.

By the end of the night, I was feeling pretty sated. A meal of your favorite foods and a few pints can help cure even the most wretched PMS.

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.