Awkward lunch and awesome dinner!

While I was working in my office on Thursday morning, one of my co-workers (a Chinese English teacher named Bill) got a phone call from Rebecca (Chinglish teacher also), inviting the three foreigners out to dinner with the minister of our school, along with our bosses and English teaching colleagues. The offer couldn't have come at a better time, actually. Free food and beverages are just what we needed, after week of being broke, and a pending three day weekend of being broke. So I walked into the lunchroom, happy to share the news with Rory and Cecilia. Rory wasn't there yet, but I started to tell Cecilia about the sweet invite.

Me: Hey, the school wants to take us out to dinner tonight-- (cutting me off)
Her: I'm not going anywhere, I'm not feeling well.
Me: Oh, well that sucks, but they want us to meet at 7:30 at the-- (cutting me off. again)
Her: I'm not feeling well, so I'm not going.
Me: Okay, I know, you're not feeling well, but I'm just telling you what they told me. We're meeting at the gate at 7:30 to go out with the minister and the other English teachers. (Rory walks in) Hey Rory, the school's taking us out to dinner tonight--sweet!
Her: Well, I'm not going. I'm not feeling well.

This is how every freaking conversation is, actually. So secretly we were rejoicing because she wasn't going to go. We wouldn't have anyone looking over our shoulder, speaking on our behalf, being rude to everyone. Sweet relief! Rebecca walked into the lunchroom to share the good news; she didn't realize that I'd been in the office when she spoke with Bill. So she reinvited us to dinner, and Cecilia told her she wasn't going to go because she wasn't feeling well. But this was the fourth time she had to tell us, so she was getting irate, speaking really quickly and unitelligibly. And Rebecca didn't really understand what Cecilia was saying, so she continued to invite the two people who were still actually interested (Rory and me), saying "I think you'd better be at the school gate at 7:30" (Rebecca never says "should", it's always "you'd better"). Cecilia was fed up, and she barked: "I'm not going to go! I'm not feeling well, and you can't force me to go if I'm not feeling well!" Like, how dare you invite me to come eat and drink for free with my colleagues! The nerve! Rory and I just sort of looked at our plates. It was really awkward and sort of comical, in an "are you kidding me?" sort of way. Cecilia then continued with this long diatribe about menopause and hot flashes and periods, again, speaking super-quickly and angrily (unintelligibly for us, so imagine the difficulty for Chinese folks). Then she gave up, and she told me that Rebecca didn't understand what she was talking about--I'd better explain it to her. Like I'm a menopause expert all of a sudden. So I said, "uh, maybe I'll try to explain later, as much as I know Rory loves all the gory details." So weird. So awkward. So often...

So Rory and I met the others at 7:30 to go to dinner. We were stoked! There were ten of us total: Rory and myself, Rebecca, Bill, Bill's fiance Wendy, both of our bosses, another English teacher, the van driver and the minister. The first restaurant we went to was full (we hadn't made reservations), so we had to drive to a different restaurant. We walked into this really fancy seafood place, and under normal circumstances, I would be really intimidated or grossed out at the thought of a strictly seafood meal, but I remembered how much we had liked the seafood at that first luncheon we attended. We were taken to our private room, and there was a round table set up, with one important seat designated by a specially-folded napkin. The most important person sat there, and the next two important people sat on either side. So the minister sat at the head of the table, and Rory and I sat on either side of him. It was nice.

The minister kept saying that his English was bad and that he wasn't smart, and Rory had the highlight line of the evening with: "well, you have to be smart to be the minister!" After it was translated, the minister turned to Rory, hugged him and told him that he loved him. It was really funny. The whole experience was great. It was just so much fun, and they were so nice to us. We drank beer and baiju (sp), and I think that they were all shocked that Rory and I could handle our Chinese liquor. They said that "the Americans are very good drinkers!"

While all of this was going on, more and more food was being brought out to the table (again, lazy susan-style). There were clams and mussels and chicken feet (and plain ol' chicken, too), some soup with octopus and the Japanese tofu, fish dumplings (which I know sound gross, but were actually really good), some buttery cabbage with beef and shrimp--the best dish of the evening, I thought. They could see that we liked it, so they brought out another plate of it--these almost sweet fried bread things with a bunch of ham/bacon, the list goes on and on. And the whole time they were all asking us if we had "anything like [it] in America...". So we explained that there was nothing quite like baiju and that people don't typically eat octopus and/or squid in the midwest, unless they're at a sushi place. We compared the art on the wall (absolutely beautiful) to things you might see in the U.S., and the exchanges that took place were really nice. They were genuinely interested in our background and interests.

At various points throughout the evening, each person was supposed to toast. Rory toasted for the both of us--and did a damn good job, too. They were pleased--and everyone took turns. When it was time for Bill to toast, he asked us if we knew why he chose the name Bill for his English name. We didn't know. So then he told us about how his idol is Bill Clinton, because he stands for democracy and freedom. It was a real highlight of the evening for me, because he was speaking with conviction and confidence, and you could tell that he really wanted to share this with us. Speaking of confidence, he was saying that he has confidence in his English skills, and that makes him a more confident person. It was really refreshing to hear that, because the biggest problem with Asians who are learning and using English (based on my experience, anyway) is a total lack of confidence. So to hear Bill declare that he did, indeed, have confidence, was really nice.

Rory's boss was really cool. My boss is cool, but she doesn't really speak much English. Rory's boss speaks better English than most of the people we've met thus far in China. He was asking Rory if he liked basketball, so Rory sort of threw that one my way, and we started talking about Patrick Ewing and other different (oldish school) basketball players that I grew up watching on tv. There was a discussion going on as to what kind of monkey he most resembled. I think that chimpanzee was the winner. Then it was decided that we had to have a basketball game: primary school (my school) versus junior/senior (Rory's school). Not the students--the teachers. That should be pretty funny, now that we have a reputation for being better basketball players than the Chinese folks (after only one night of playing).

A few more toasts--the kids love you and think you are great (Rory and me)--and we were ready to go, full of seafood and the knowledge that this one evening out with the coworkers meant so much to all of us. It was a really good time, even if we aren't all bilingual. It made me proud to be here, and it gave me confidence in my teaching abilities and the impact I have on these kids. These awesome little kids.

Rizhao--Land of Black Snot...

Rizhao is another city located in Shandong province, 2 hours west of Qingdao (one of Shandong's most popular cities). It is a little bigger than Weihai--closer to 3 million--and it is a city we considered living in before we received our current job offer.

My friend Gary, from the Asian Affairs Center (the Chinese Programs Coordinator), was going to be there over the weekend, to get more information and to tour the town in preparation for a China group tour he is leading near the end of May. So we wrote a formal letter to our school requesting Monday off, and we borrowed money/got an advance on our paychecks from the finance office on campus--we are pretty broke until we get our first paycheck--working for a month before getting paid takes its toll on the dough (or lack thereof). We had corresponded with Gary a lot through email; we'd been talking about the visit before we even left the United States. It was a unique situation, too, because the same time we were going to be hanging out with Gary, another AAC person (Sang, the director) was going to be in Korea with a bunch of my former colleagues, visiting Jamie and other Mizzou alum who currently teach throughout Korea. So on the same weekend, both McGeorges and Rory were going to get to see friends from back home. Pretty cool.

Though Gary had confirmed that he had our phone number and that he would help us book a hotel once we arrived in Rizhao, we were still pretty nervous about traveling out of Weihai for the first time without somehow corresponding with him beforehand. So Saturday night I called Jamie to see if Sang had Gary's phone number; before flying to Korea, Sang had been with Gary in Chongqing, China. So Jamie asked Sang for Gary's cell phone number, but he didn't have it. We were assured by Sang (via Lesley and Jamie) that everything would be okay. We should just wait for Gary's call. Okay, no problem. Thomas and a few different people from school helped us buy our bus tickets, directly from Weihai to Rizhao, and a driver from our school took us out to the bus station at 7:00 on Sunday morning.

The bus ride, though cramped, wasn't bad at all. It really didn't feel like we'd been passengers for a little over 6 hours. It was really nice to see the landscape change, to drive through all of these (relatively) tiny villages, to see random dogs and children running around in the street, cows tied up to posts like pets. And more women washing clothing on rocks. Masses of them. There was one point where we passed right through a really craggy mountain pass, and it was sort of like being at elephant rocks, except much more majestic. And in China.

We even had potty breaks on the bus. Bus/gas station toilets are...interesting. And pretty disgusting, but I guess that's par for the course anywhere you go. I remember being in France, at a public rest area, picnicking and looking at the beautfiful view from the top of a pretty sizeable hill, when I experienced my first squatter. I had no idea what it was, how the hell it worked, or why anyone would think that was a suitable way to conduct your business. I had another "rude" awakening on this bus ride. We stopped after the first two hours of riding, pulling into a public bus terminal along our route. I have already grown pretty accustomed to the constant smell of poopoo and peepee within a 25 foot radius of any bathroom in China; as well as using a squatter daily in our own apartment, but this blew my mind. I walked in and there was a series of stalls, with little partitions (no, not walls) about 2 feet tall dividing each plot (again, don't know what you would call it. Space? Area you "go" in?...). There were no doors, so as soon as I walked in, I saw the pale asses of a bunch of Chinese lady strangers, squatting down, straddling a trough that ran the length of the entire bathroom, full of everyone's "stuff." I wasn't going to not go to the bathroom, so I stepped right up and let it fly. I mean, if you're on a bus for that long, you take any opportunity you can to pee, right? So not only was I getting stared at because I'm a foreigner, but these women and little girls were trying to look at my parts--because they're foreigner parts. Rory experienced the same sort of curious glances/stares in the men's room.

But enough about those bathrooms. We had two bathroom breaks, and one random stop. The random stop was weird, too. We pulled up alongside these two guys, standing on the side of the road, out in the middle of nowhere, smoking cigarettes next to their motorcycles. The driver and the driver's assistant--who was constantly wearing his fanny pack, and who had been ordered to take care of us by the man who took us to the bus station--started pulling up (what we had just assumed were) your standard floor mats in the aisle, between the rows of seats on the right and the left. But under the floor mats were all of these really long, thin boxes of something. I don't know what, but they started pulling these boxes out, and 12 (six to eight feet) long boxes later, they were finished. All of the men who had gotten out to smoke got back on the bus to continue the trip. It was so random and funny. They will store things wherever the hell it will fit on these buses. It was really funny to us. Like-- what will they pull out of a confined space next?

Once we arrived in Rizhao (actually the second our feet touched the ground after getting off of the bus), these strange, really dirty men grabbed us, speaking Chinese very quickly, except for the ocassional and very emphatic "Hello! Hello!" They wanted us to get in their rickshaws so they could drive us wherever we needed to go. But we didn't trust them, and we also didn't know what we were doing or where we were going. Rory and I are a little different than some folks, though. We love not having a plan and walking around, just exploring the new terrain and getting lost. We decided to stay close to the bus station, to wait for Gary's call so that we would only have to pay a taxi fare once we actually knew where we were going. We started walking, past the bus station, past civilization; into this really gross, industrial area that was so loud from the noise of all of these huge trucks. I don't know what they were doing, but there were so many damn trucks. Rory took out his map of Rizhao (all in Chinese), our first purchase after getting off the bus (second purchase--return bus tickets the following morning, back to Weihai), and we asked some random guy on the street where we were. So we ended up turning around and walking back to a really neat little side street closer to the bus station.

We were pretty hungry, and we didn't know what we were doing yet, so we decided to find a restaurant. Our goal is to find a place where there are actual patrons (so we know the locals like it) and where the owners and workers are friendly, but not so friendly (in an insincere way) that we think they'll try to charge us extra because we're foreigners. Usually they are hesitant about having us in their restaurant, but once they see that we like Chinese food and that we know how to say "delicious" and "2 beers", they are amused by our mere presence. We found a place where the patrons really wanted us to come in. A pretty large Chinese man shook our hands and said "Welcome to China." It's always nice when that happens--he's welcoming us, on behalf of his entire, massive country. Sweet! The food was great, the beers were great, there was a really cute little girl running around in there to amuse (mostly) me; and we got to see the sign change while we were there. A bunch of Chinese men, in suits and dress shoes, but with welding equipment (but no protective goggles or mask), started hacking away at the wires mounting the old sign to the storefront. Some of them took turns holding rickety, broken ladders, while others grabbed the bottom of the sign so it didn't smash into the ground when the men on the roof cut the other cables. It was pretty fun to watch.

After they put up the new sign and we finished our beers, we headed out to a pc bong to see if Gary had written. He hadn't. I got the phone numbers of some of our friends in Chongqing--they had been partying with Sang and Gary all week--so we called them up to see if they could give us Gary's contact info. After talking to them both, we were under the impression that Gary had gone to Dalian, his hometown, which is actually pretty close to Weihai. They gave us Gary's sister's cell phone number. So we called it up, and Gary answered. Yea!!!!! Evidently there had been a problem with his flight, and he was unable to come to Rizhao until a few days later. Not yea!!!!! We understood that the flight got screwed up, but no phone call? No email telling us about the change in plans? I felt like I could have avoided this if I'd been able to get his phone number the night before. Even if we wanted to stick around Rizhao for a couple more days, we had only gotten off the one day from work (and our pay will be docked accordingly), and we simply didn't have enough money to stick around. But there was no time to dwell. We were stuck in this place (which had lost its luster in a matter of seconds, funnily enough), with very little money, and we just wanted to get a hotel, get some beer, wake up and go home. It was no longer a fun or exciting situation.

So we wandered around, looking at signs, trying to find a hotel. A few different people on the street sent us in opposite directions; one place thought we wanted a "room" (maybe for a few hours), but when they found out we wanted to sleep and spend the night there, they didn't want us around. We finally saw a man who was really eager to talk to us, so we pulled out the phrase book (best purchase ever!) and asked if there was a reasonably priced hotel around. Reasonably priced. So he hailed us a cab and explained to the driver what we wanted, and away we went, satisfied that the man was going to save us a bunch of searching and hassle. Wrong. We were driving for awhile when I said: "it'd be funny if this guy was taking us to the most expensive hotel in town...Holy shit...I hope he's not taking us there...". "There" was this pretty swanky hotel that had a bellboy and a really soft-spoken, attractive Chinese receptionist (who also spoke English), who was under the impression (as I'm sure every Chinese person is by now) that we are loaded. No no no no no. She offered us a room with a huge discount, but it was still more than twice as much money as we had on us. Luckily, she explained to the cabbie that we wanted a cheap hotel near the bus station. She was really nice and helpful, and we were just thankful that someone knew how to communicate with the driver.

So driver takes us to this little community that was actually pretty cool, but by the time we got there, most everything had shut down. We also had a hunch that we were nowhere near the bus station. Our bus left at 8:20 the next morning. Sweet. We walk into this hotel, tired and frustrated, and the man charges us double what we had set aside for a room. We didn't want to try to bargain or talk him down (difficult to do if you don't speak Chinese, plus we reeked of desperation), so we said screw it. We took the room. It was a dump. Boy, was it a dump, but at least it was a place to sleep, even if the toilet didn't flush and the water smelled like rotten eggs.

We went back down the street to the only restaurant that was open--twas dinner time by then--and of course, it was probably the most expensive joint on the block. A man who was working there probably spoke the best English we've heard in China thus far, so that was a relief, and he was really eager to help us out. He told us that we could come in the back, in the kitchen, and just point to what we wanted. So we pointed at this eggplant dish with shrimp. We keep eating the eggplant stuff over here because it's so good and it's cheap, so we were excited to see something that we recognized. We asked how much it was, and he said "Oh, I think it is very cheap. Maybe only 8 dollars." So we told him that we didn't live in America, and that we got paid in Chinese money, so he needed to tell us the "real" price. It was more than we had. We told him that we needed to eat a really inexpensive meal. Rather than explain our whole sob story, we told him that my wallet had been stolen, so that he would understand why we were so desperate for cheap food. We sort of felt as defeated as if my wallet had been stolen, though, so we didn't feel as bad about fibbing. He brought us some food, it was awesome; and the total cost of the three dishes and two beers was less than the shrimp and eggplant dish. So he hooked it up, and we were very thankful.

We went back to the hotel room, and I called Thomas, who kept telling me over and over again, "Just remember, Julie, T.I.C.--This is China...". I need to put that on a t-shirt, with Thomas' face or something on it. It was too funny. He reminded us that we'll have money soon, and it will be more than we know what to do with (it will also be double the amount we had when we came, so it really is going to be sweet). Then Jamie called. I needed that. We vented, and she told us to forget about the fact that we were broke--now the free meals that the school offers will come in really handy!

We woke up the next morning with an hour and a half before our bus left. We "checked out", which meant we threw our key on the desk as the owner propped his head up from his bed in his bedroom, which was right off of the "lobby" (really, it wasn't quite a bedroom, and it wasn't quite a lobby). We were determined to get on the first bus we could find, use our phrasebook and see if it went near the long-distance bus terminal. This meant we would pay 1.50 instead of the 20-30.00 that a cab would have cost. Luckily for us, the first bus went to the bus station, and we had plenty of time to figure out which gate we needed to go to and all that jazz. Finally, we got on the bus, more than relieved to be headed back to our dorm room in Weihai.

Now Rory is sick with a cold, and we've been sneezing black stuff since we got back. It's no wonder people wear those SARS masks all around China. We are lucky here in Weihai--the air is clean, the water is relatively clean (I mean, we're still in China); maybe Gary's group should come here instead of dirty Rizhao. At least they wouldn't sneeze exhaust.

How to judge an English contest in China...

This past Saturday we were invited (well, we didn't really have a choice) to be guest judges at an English competition being held on our campus. It was sponsored by CCTV, and the 20 winning finalists will move on to the next round, with other folks from Shandgong province. Some of the participants were Cecilia's kids; it was only open to Chinese students, though there was one Korean girl there, and she did a pretty good job. Rory teaches all Koreans, and I teach the little littles, so these were relatively new faces to us, save for the folks who came to receive our input a few nights earlier in the week. We walked into the auditorium, and it was huge. I guess it comes as no surprise, everything on our campus is huge. The stage was really ornately decorated with these giant lotus flowers, a bunch of random (fake) foliage and sparkly orbs everywhere. It was really a sight to see. So we took our seats in the front row--the judging area--next to Cecilia, the minister of our school and a few other Chinese English teachers (including the two who had provided the counterproductive "help" at our first practice session).

Each participant was to read a numbered passage from a book; we each had a copy of the book, and they all read/performed in order, so already it was a pretty easy gig. There were also a series of questions in the front of the book; we had to choose (according to skill level) a question to ask the students for the "communication" portion of the contest. We had little score sheets with each contestant's number on it, along with a 100 point breakdown: grammer (yes, spelled incorrectly), fluency, tonation, performance, general, communication and maybe a few other things. But it all added up to 100.

Cecilia decided (for us) that we were going to ask the questions, because she wanted the students to get a chance to hear the dialects of the other two foreign teachers. Sure, sounds logical, but it was pretty clear that she was just bullshitting us because she didn't want to ask questions. Whatever. We were fine with asking questions. So Rory and I rotated. The kids would finish their passages and we would ask: "do you like movies?" The answer was always "yes" or "no", and then we'd follow up with "why [not]?" We had 50-something kids reading passages, and 90% of the time, when we would ask them the "why[not]?" part of the question, they would answer that it was either "boring" or "interesting". So finally, when Rory asked a girl why she liked birds, she answered "because birds are free," and I started clapping really loudly, like--about time, people. Early in the competition, I asked a girl what day of the week it was, and she said "it's March 24." When I tried to get her to say the days of the week--prepping her with "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday...no? Okay..."--she started crying. So I decided I didn't want to make any more kids cry. So simple(r) questions were the name of the game.

And though Cecilia had bowed out of the questions portion of the contest, she certainly made her presence known anyway. As each student was reading into the microphone, in front of his/her peers, she would make all of these pantomimic gestures; waving her hands in the air--to encourage them to slow down or speed up or smile or dance or something--trying to make eye contact with these kids who were two seconds shy of peeing their pants. It was really annoying and distracting to us, so I can only imagine what she looked like from a Chinese teenager's perspective. And she kept telling us, "No, don't ask that question--they don't know what cartoons are...", even though the five (younger) students before them knew exactly what cartoons are--they're interesting.

There were some contestants who were a little too confident, too, telling us (before they even started reading) "I think I will winner of this contest." Nope. There was actually one girl who said it and then delivered the best performance of the night (in my humble opinion). She had been at our practice session, and she actually listened to our comments, so that when she got to the word "interviewer" (difficult for Asians, who don't have a "v"), she totally nailed it. I gave her the highest points.

We knew that there was going to be a dance routine, because we had seen the girls rehearsing before the shindig started. So these 5 awkward Chinese girls got on stage and danced to some song while the judges tallied the votes. We were just sitting there, taking it all in, filming a little bit of it, when Rebecca came up to us and said "the girls want you to sing the English song `Senorita' so that they can dance to it..." I knew that she was probably talking about that Justin Timberlake song, but instead I feigned ignorance, saying "we don't know that song, and `senorita' is actually a Spanish word...". So we thought we were off the hook, but right after the girls finished dancing, Rebecca came back to us and said "you should sing an English song with no music. Now." We didn't really have time to think, and at this point, we are up for any opportunity to win brownie points with the school, so we said okay. We walked onstage and stood in front of these high school kids who just wanted to hear some American Y107 music. So we sang "Step Inside" by the Hollies. It was really awkward and funny, and it was met with a tepid (okay, non-) response from the kids.

Next they announced the winners (in Chinese, so we still don't know who got to move to the next round of competition--they didn't make them come on stage or anything), and then the minister got onstage and gave a speech about something. I don't know what he was talking about, but he was enthusiastic. The competition was over, and we were greeted by a lot of firm handshakes and promises of a free meal in the future. I think that our colleagues loved that we sang a song, whether the kids did or not. So we decided that anytime we get up and sing in front of people, it goes over really well--we should have some standby songs under our belts just in case. It could mean a free meal.

"...these damned claws!"

Last night we were asked to come help the Chinese students who are preparing for an English competition to be held on our campus this weekend. We thought it would be a pretty easy, straightforward thing, with the students standing up and presenting their stories to us and the audience. Wrong.

We walked into a conference room near Rory's office in Teaching Building 1, and every seat was packed, all these teenage Chinese faces sitting around a giant conference desk, staring at us, wondering why we were there. Rory and I don't teach any of these students--they're all Cecilia's.

From the get-go it was like a freaking circus. We tried to get all of these kids to be quiet for two seconds so that their classmates could read/present their stories. I didn't want to immediately walk into a room and start yelling at a bunch of students who don't know who I am, but at the same time, I wanted our time spent there to be useful to the students who actually cared. And I didn't want to feel like I was wasting my time. There were plenty of other things we could have been doing. Also, there was a Chinese teacher in there to help us "maintain" the kids. She wasn't doing anything. So I finally just shouted "HEY!" and told them to be quiet. That lasted for 10 seconds. So we said "screw it" and just made all the kids come up to us and read, standing right next to us.

It was still impossible to hear, so Rory went up to the lead troublemaker and made him read next. Each time he would start reading, I'd say "What? I can't hear you?" just to annoy him. So we made him start over a bunch. And the kids didn't understand a word of what they were reading. They just learned how to pronounce the words. So "psychiatrist", "plausibly", "externality", "interviewer" and other similar words were just murdered. We suggested that they try to look up the words in their dictionaries so that they know what the hell they're saying, but I think that suggestion fell on deaf, rude ears. Homeboy who was talking a lot had a story that ended with "...these damned claws!" He didn't know what claws were. I kept thinking that if he knew what claws were, he could have really emphasized his story, raising his fist and pumping in the air (I had a romantic notion of this little guy being like a teenage Charleton Heston in Planet of the Apes...maybe next time).

Rory demonstrated how to read, and to make it sound like a joke. After he finished I started to (pretend) laugh and guffaw uncontrollably like it was the funniest thing I'd ever heard. The kids just stared at us, but we explained that this was the desired response. Again, deaf ears.

One girl actually had most of hers memorized, so she stood right by Rory and me, staring at us with this vacant, zombified look on her face while reading something about washing a cat in a washing machine..."No, doctor, it wasn't the washing machine that killed him--I think it was the ironing..." I know, hilarious, right? Anyway, this chick sort of just creeped us out, even if she was the best one there.

The whole thing was pretty ridiculous. Eventually another Chinese teacher came in, and while we were shouting about how rude the students were being, the teachers went around the room, taking pictures of girls on their cell phones and chatting right along with them. It made me wonder what a Chinese classroom (at this school anyway) is actually like, or how much English learning goes on. Seems like the school is trying to breed a bunch of Chinese parrots.

St. Patty's Night

Okie doke. So this is the footage from our night out. The band is from the Tomato Bar, and the rest is from 2046. Too much fun. Take a gander.

St. Patty's Day Hike

Hello all. This is the video of the daytime hike that Julie talked about in her last blog. It's a long one. I'll have the video from the evening up a bit later. I've now exhausted all of my mountain songs. Enjoy.

St. Patty's Day in the China!

So yesterday was one of those days that was so jampacked with activity that is seems (in retrospect) impossible that we were able to do so much. In one day. Whew!

We slept in late, skipping breakfast. We decided that there's really no need for us to get up at 7:00 on the weekends to go eat porridge and fried eggs. Plus, it gives the cooks a little bit of a break; especially now that we have to log when we're going to be there for meals. Seems like that makes sense (so they know how much food to make for us 3 foreigners), but it's a recent development that came after Cecilia complained about the freshness of the food (it's always something. Seriously...); and now we have to know in advance when we'll be eating at the dining hall or not.

We did end up going to lunch, though. Lunch is usually the most impressive meal of the day, and during the week, immediately after lunch, we have a nap time "siesta" built into our schedules. The whole campus sort of shuts down and everyone "take[s] some rest." So at lunch yesterday we had some meatballs and other random things. The food is getting better and better for us (both taste-wise and tolerance-wise), and our palates are becoming more receptive to Chinese cuisine. Well, Chinese dining hall cuisine. When we eat in restaurants it's no problem, because we get to choose what we want to eat, but in the dining hall, it's anyone's guess, and they don't necessarily know that we don't like squid or octopus in with our vegetables or broth or whatever. But there's always rice and a juice box of some sort.

Yesterday at lunch we were in charge of talking with Cecilia about a little nitpicky logistical contract thing. We spoke with Rebecca--the Chinese English teacher who has taken on the responsibility of being the liason/translator/go-to chick in all matters between us and the higher-ups--and we figured out the glitch and are happy with the results. So we had to explain our decision to Cecilia, who has been saying that we should stick together as a team from the beginning (and now she just wants us to talk to people on her behalf. We're not...). So she wasn't very happy with us or the school, because she wants the school to pay her for days that she wasn't even in China yet (like I said, it's always something with her...). Our lunchtime conversation made us a little frustrated and annoyed, so we were happy to escape campus for a few hours to go meet Thomas and Alyssa (who we met at "church" and with whom we ate dinner earlier this week) to go hike up a mountain. Alyssa is really cool. We talked about travelling (she's been to some of the same places I've been); she was actually applying for a Fulbright grant to Chile before she came here to Weihai. She also has big feet (like me), and is going to hand over some of her shoes to me when her contract is up.

We met Alyssa at Shandong University (where she's an English Instructor), and then we all rode over to pick up Thomas, our guide for the day (he's a natural). Thomas had previously shown us all of these different mountain passes he's traversed, but yesterday he wanted to check out a new spot in a familiar location. So we were happy and thankful that he wanted us to tag along with him. We rode our taxi all the way to a dead end, where the pavement ended, and we could see this pretty massive and impressive mountain looming in the background. Right as the pavement turned to dirt, there was a building that was being renovated. We walked up and peeked around, wondering what it would become--a house? a restaurant? a school?--and I felt like I was trespassing. But I trust Thomas. He had been here before, after all. He gave mountain tours as his summer job last year. He led us up a dirt path, past a couple of elderly women who were washing their clothes on rocks next to this dirty little mountain trickle (not quite a stream). It struck me that I had never been in a situation like this--this was real China (whatever that means--maybe I just have all these images from PBS specials in my head). There were really Chinese women washing clothes on rocks, their shabby dwellings behind them. They told Thomas (in Chinese) that we should cross over and go the other way. Thomas didn't want to, but he didn't make a big deal out of it; we simply crossed the trickle and walked a different route, to make them happy.

When we were in Korea, we never got to experience anything as intimate (?) as this in nature or in the countryside. Sure, sometimes Jamie and I would hike up to this mountain behind our school, just to kill time during our lunch break, but part of the way up was paved. I'm sure we could have climbed mountains, we just didn't know anyone who was knowledgeable about where to go. And here we have Thomas! I think that we're very lucky in that sense. So we headed up, still a little dumbfounded that we were about to climb a mountain. The next thing I know we're face to face with some cows, just hanging out right next to this trail. Their rears were right at the edge of a dropoff, so every time they had to poop they just let it fly, and it fell down a ravine into the trickle. The same trickle the ladies were cleaning their clothes in. But they cows weren't confined by a fence or anything like that; they were tied up, right there, hanging out. A little further up, past a few houses (signs of civilization), we came across a pen full of dog houses. Evidently one of the houses we had passed belonged to a Chinese man who breeds some kind of dog. I don't know what kind of dogs they were, but lemme tell you--these were some cute puppies! So not only are we hiking up the side of a beautiful mountain, with beautiful weather and nice friends, we got the added bonus of getting to see a bunch of puppies. And who isn't a sucker for puppies? What a lucky day, right?

So we kept walking, and it wasn't too rough, but then we ended up at the bottom of this really steep hill. And we had to get to the top. Lucky for me, we decided to climb our first Weihai mountain with a cross-country runner and a guy who has gotten paid to take people to the top. I've mentioned that we have to climb 225 steps every time we enter our school gates, just to get to our room, but it was still no preparation for that section of the hike. I was bringing up the rear, reminding the world "Wow, I'm really out of shape...", but after stopping a few times and resting against trees, I was at the top of our first section. We turned and looked how far we'd come up. It was impressive to me, even at this point, but we had only just started the trek. So we started making our way to this craggy area of rocks that jutted out, and I was really scared all of sudden. I don't know why I do this to myself, but it's like a nervous thing I have. For example, before we flew from the US to China, I had built up in my head all of the terrible things that could potentially happen once we were in the air. And so I was really nervous to get on the plane at all. But once we were up there, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had made it out in my head. And save for a littlest bit of turbulence near the end, the flight was perfect, I'd survived, and I was in China. If I ever go canoeing or something like that, I always build it up in my head that I'm going to drown or get bit by a water moccasin (a la Ricky Schroeder in Lonesome Dove). Similarly, on the mountain, I got nervous crawling on parts of rock (unchartered terrain for me), knowing how much of a klutz I am, thinking "if anyone's going to fall off of a mountain today, it's going to be me...". But I remembered that Thomas knows what he's doing and wouldn't take us out on a hike to kill us. So I joined the others on the crag, and it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The view was incredible! I mean, we got to see parts of our city that we didn't even know existed! We got to see the island that we'll be visiting soon, when we go ride bicycles and look at British architecture.

Thomas pointed over to another ridge, towards an old, dilapidated house; and he suggested that we do some "ridge hopping" and go check it out, because he'd never been there. I sort of thought that he was joking, and I said "well, we don't have to go that far, but we should definitely do some more climbing around...". So we started crossing all of these ridges, down and back up, down and back up (and none of it nearly as exhausting as crawling up that initial slope, which we remained on top of the entire time); and at the top of each ridge you could see all of these different views of the city and the boats and the islands. It was so cool! And the whole time Alyssa and I chatted about travelling and exploring. It was great! Before I could even realize what was happening, we were at the house! It took a lot less time than I thought it would. So we walked around in this old, (now) roofless structure, taking pictures, drinking gatorade and looking down at where we'd come from. We could see the puppy pen, and it looked so tiny now. I felt very proud of myself for making it to the top. We followed the trail a little further, and we came across another cement structure. It was basically just a cement platform that had a few cement steps leading up to it. So we all walked up on the platform--it was perfect for a "scenic view" of Weihai. But everything about the day thus far (after leaving campus) had been perfect. But Rory and I wondered how the hell people got cement and bricks up this freaking mountain! I can't imagine a genie lift or anything like that that is capable of reaching the top of a mountain ridge, so I'm sure the the construction involved a lot of Chinese folks carrying things on their backs up this mountain.

We started the journey down, and we passed through another cemetery. This one had all of the mounds like the one that we had stumbled upon last weekend. Chinese folks are cremated when they die, and then their loved ones place their urn full of ashes inside these mounds. It's really pretty cool-looking. But there was one (non) mound that was actually a pretty elaborate cement structure, in amongst all of these piles of dirt and decoration. Someone must be a pretty rich person to have such a nice burial plot (if that term even still applies here).

As we got closer to the bottom, we saw a really nice hotel that had a driving range behind it. Alyssa wanted to check out their prices for pool usage, so we just hiked down next to this driving range. Along the way we saw our first Chinese person (we hadn't seen anyone since the ladies washing their clothese--this seems rare for China, where there's never supposed to be any privacy). An old man was gathering straw and bundling it up in some netted basket thing. He was friendly and said "Ni Hao", and we continued down. We stopped inside the swimming pool area of the hotel, and I saw one of my students. We had her friend translate the little card the hotel clerk had given us with pool rates on it. We all split a cab, getting out at our particular destinations and vowing to go climbing again soon.

So we went back to the dorm and got ready for the evening festivities. We had heard through the grapevine that there was going to be Guinness (for St. Patrick's Day) at a bar in the city center. Until I heard this, I had sort of forgotten about St. Patrick's Day altogether. But we hadn't been to a bar at all yet, and we were excited about drinking some real beer. We hopped on the bus and got off at the first stop to eat at a Korean restaurant we'd been eyeing for awhile. So we walked in, excited about using our knowledge of Korean to order food. It turns out that there weren't any Korean-speaking folks there, which is weird for us (well, for our experience here in Korean restaurants, anyway), because Weihai is full of Koreans. So when we ordered "Budaechige", the waitress just looked at us like we were crazy. So Rory flipped back through the menu, reading the Korean aloud (surely that would impress a Korean, right?) until he found our soup, and he showed our waitress. Written next to it was the Chinese version, so we just ended up pointing at it. Oh well, next time we'll get to use Korean somewhere!

We hopped in a taxi and made our way to the Tomato Bar, where the friendly bartender was, indeed, serving bottles of Guinness. They also served us two shots of Jameson. We were the first foreigners there (we were meeting Neal and Alyssa), so we just sort of sat at the bar, singing along to the Beatles songs playing over the loudspeakers. Turns out The Beatles are universally appealing. Fine with me. We saw that there was a little stage and wondered if there was live music. Five minutes later, we discovered that there was--score! So these three Chinese dudes get up there with their percussion, keyboard and guitar, and they start playing the Eric Clapton Unplugged songbook. There were other songs, too, and it was great, but a whole lotta Clapton. So we were singing along to all of these songs, cheering for the band, and you could tell that everyone was staring at us, amused by the fact that we were so amused. The two men sitting next to us bought us a couple of glasses of wine to cheers with, so we had to drink the whole glass to show them that we know what's up with drinking here in China. We drank and pointed our glasses towards them, showing that we had finished in one gulp. They were impressed--we were having so much fun! I think that it is always a little shocking for Chinese folks (or Korean folks) to see us foreigners dancing around and singing and really interacting, instead of being shy or just sitting in a booth trying to avoid eye contact. But I just want everyone to know how happy I am to be in China, and it always goes over really well. It has thus far, anyway.

Neal showed up with another Neil, I think British. We got some more beers and paid--going to bars will be a rare thing for us, I think, because it's significantly more expensive than just getting some beers with dinner. Alyssa showed up with her French friend, the new French teacher at Shandong. She was really nice, I just can't remember her name. It was loud when she said it... The girl sitting at the table next to us "cheers"ed me. So I held my glass up next to her, and we both chugged. Her table cheered for me when they saw me drink the rest of my beer. I think the cheers did a number on her, though, because the next thing I knew, she was taking a nap on the table.

We migrated to a different club, 2046. Before we walked in, Neal turned to us and said "I think you're going to like this place..." So we walked in, and there was a free coat check. Okay, already I like it. We walked through some doors, and we were escorted to our own booth. The room was dimly lit, but it was totally a dance club. All of the booths and tables were situated so that everyone had a clear view of the stage area, djs perched behind, playing random, loud music. It was so fun! So before we even thought about ordering drinks (we didn't have the budget for it last night), Rory and I were out on the dance floor, and it was hilarious. All of these Chinese folks saw us coming, and it's like they parted the waters for us when we got to the floor. So then it was just Rory and me, surrounded by a bunch of folks staring at us and laughing (with us, not at us). The dancing didn't last very long, as it was time for an emcee to come out and get the crowd riled up. So the dance floor was also a stage, a stage where this dude excitedly yelled a lot and chugged entire beers in front of his audience. Once, he even double fisted some Coronas, getting beer all over his jacket and face. He was really zealous about it, though, and you could tell that being a hype man at a dance club in Weihai is an important position.

After he finished getting drunk and letting us watch, he brought up members of the audience to participate in a game. The girls had to hold a bottle in between their legs, and the boys had to hold a straw. The objective was to get the straw into the bottle, but it was really just an excuse to see a bunch of shy(?) Chinese girls get dry-humped on stage by horny Chinese dudes. Like being at a frat bar in Co, MO or something. But with games(?)... Next, all of these dancers came out onstage, dressed like they were in Vegas or something. The girls had on these really elaborate headdresses (bright pink and orange) and belly dancing costumes, while the dudes wore the same color scheme and looked like homosexual matadors. It was too funny! Funny awesome, I mean. As the night progressed, the dancing chicks ended up in less and less clothing, finally writhing around on poles in little more than their skivvies. Then I understood why the table full of Australian, douchebag-looking dudes was sitting so close to the stage. We found our frat boys! But it was so much fun. And it was just too funny--little Chinese chicks who giggle when I say "Ni Hao" to them on the street were now pole dancing in hardly any clothes.

We called it a night and headed home. It was all too funny. Mountain climbing by day and pole dancing by night. Only in Weihai.

Montage City!

Ni hao! Ok... so this here video is really just a bunch of random clips from our first few days here. There's some stuff from around our neighborhood, some stuff from the park and the zoo... and just some stuff. Enjoy.

Sand, surf and son...

So this weekend was another fun one (go figure!)...

Last week we finally got around to buying a map of Weihai, so we posted it on our wall, determined to have a sort of "point and go" attitude; we don't have pushpins or anything (I already thought of that, but they won't stick in our wall--tape hardly sticks to the damn wall...). We really felt like we wasted a lot of time in Korea (retrospectively)--there's no time for naps on the weekend, dammit! Only exploration! So we decided to go to the beach. Why not? It was super cold and windy, perfect beach weather if you just wear layers. So we loaded ourselves up in a taxi, opened up our (other, travel) map to the cab driver, and away we went. The entire beach front area is still pretty vacant, like it was the weekend before, when we travelled around with Thomas and Marina; but there were little hints everywhere as to what it might be like in the summer time--I saw swimsuit separates through a window, and shopkeepers were in their little mini marts stocking up on beach essentials. Evidently the March/April months here can be pretty brutal with wind, and there's evidence of this brutality all over town. There are all these massive signs (somehow) adhered to the sides of buildings that look like they've been chewed on. When we get in taxis to go back to school, we always pass this huge billboard that's sort of toppled over on its side. Even the strongest Chinese pole is no match for Weihai wind. For serious.

We headed down towards the beach area--the largest public beach area in Weihai. It was so cool! The breakers were all choppy and white-capped, and there was a pretty substantial layer of seafoam creating a barrier between us and the water. I had never seen seafoam before (notice the "had"--tee hee), but it's pretty cool and...foamy. There weren't a lot of folks there because it was so damn cold. But I also think that some of the Chinese folks we've met thus far have been a little too concerned about us being cold--jacket weather to me is parka weather to them (tomayto/tomahto, right?). So we walked along, holding hands, pretty much just us and the beach. And some huge industrial tractors. I'm not sure what they were doing, but they always seemed to start moving the second we wanted to walk in front of them.

We saw another young couple walking along the beach with a little white trash bag full of seaweed. Later, when we walked back in front of the empty shops, we could see strands and strands of seaweed being hung out to dry (or to blow away, it seems...). It was really funny, too, because even in the sand you could see the markings of a typical Chinese woman. Heels. They all wear heels. And they run in them, or work at the supermarket in them, or walk around on the beach in them. I just don't understand how they do it. Maybe they are born with little stiletto heels fused to their feet. But next to a heel marking, I spotted a sort of dried out starfish. I wrapped him (?) up in some tp and put him in my bag.

After walking around on the beach for a few hours, we headed back towards the same hotpot place we had enjoyed the weekend before. We were determined to do it on our own this time. We walked in around 4:30, and we were the first and only customers in the restaurant, but that was lucky for us, because it allowed three friendly Chinese girls (they all looked like they were 16) to help figure out exactly what the hell we wanted in our hotpot. So we used our handly little dictionaries (electronic and no) to communicate, and we all agreed that the entire scenario was pretty funny. As we were eating our hotpot, my nose started running--they really put the "hot" in hotpot--the spicy side was full of, well, spice. Ladlefuls. So I reached in my bag to grab my roll of tp (we always carry it with us here--smartest thing we ever decided to do), and I grabbed a little wad that was already ripped off. I started wiping my nose and realized it was my starfish. Ewwww...

We went home, relaxed and watched this Andy Richter show we downloaded off of itunes. Boy, it sure beats the Beijing Opera. Not that I don't like or appreciate the Beijing Opera, but really, it's on all the freaking time. And to a foreign ear, it sort of all sounds the same.

The next day we were invited to go meet some other foreigners and to go to church--each week they meet at someone else's apartment and just sort of rotate. When Thomas first proposed the idea, Rory and I quickly bowed out of the church part. But Cecilia said "Oh, don't worry, it's not going to be a big deal--it will just be people gathering and hanging out together." Thomas said it would be a lot of singing and playing guitar, so we were like--okay, we like singing and playing guitar (and we didn't want to seem like jerks)--we'll be there!

We met Thomas (sans Marina, bummer--she had class) by the gates of Shandong University and walked over to the apartment, which was on campus. Thomas was apologizing for the apartment being small, which was really funny, because when we walked in we could tell that it was waaaaay bigger than ours. But that's okay; we have as much space as we need. It's all good. At the end of the day, it's just a place to sleep. When we walked in, we could see that it was mostly older people. Not old people--older people, mostly 40+. There were a couple people there who were closer to our age, and we're actually going to hang out with them tomorrow. So we sat down and met a bunch of really nice people, but it was still awkward, just because they've all been there for awhile and have formed relationships with each other. Church relationships. What followed (for me, and I'm pretty sure for Rory, too), was one of the most awkward situations I've ever been in. One of those situations where you want to either curl up in the fetal position or toss yourself out the window. Or curl up in the fetal position and then toss yourself out a window.

Yes, there was a guitar, and even song lyrics that were dispersed among us newcomers. Lyrics to all of these church songs. I mean, I thought there would be church songs that I know, and there was "Amazing Grace", but we didn't sing that selection this week. I have nothing against religion--I respect people who have found religion, and I am intrigued by the tenants of various religious teachings, but only within a literary context. I don't know what I was expecting, or maybe I just hadn't prepared myself for that type of setting--it's been awhile since I've been to church, and yes, that's by choice. Maybe Cecilia and Thomas didn't think it would be awkward because they are both religious folk; but when you're agnostic or atheist, it's really awkward. So Rory and I just sort of became flies on the wall, discreetly clutching each other's arms, wondering (well, I was, at least) what to make of everyone there, as well as wondering what their first impressions of us must have been. We weren't participating at all--we were really just sitting there quietly, trying not to be noticed in this room full of about 10 other foreign teachers, a few who work at a Christian school here in Weihai.

At one point, everyone went around the room, taking turns reading passages out of this book they've all been reading. Rory and I passed, but Cecilia read, and then we felt really alienated. Like we'd been duped or something. And she started quoting biblical passages and stuff, and everyone was sharing their take on the book-of-the-month and how it applied to their lives. But the most awkward part of it all, for us, came when the group veterans asked us if there was anything that we would like them to pray for. Other people had friends who were addicted to drugs, and then someone wanted to pray for their friends' stillborn baby (you know, legitimate stuff, and again, I totally respect that. I've prayed for things before, and no, not just a sweet pony or something at Christmastime). Rory and I passed, again, but Cecilia decided to use this time to talk about our school and our contracts. Her opinion about our contract and our situation here at the school is pretty different from ours. She is very unhappy here. She has lived in China before, and she has certain expectations about what her living arrangements should be like--that's totally understandable. For us, though, we already had the worst experience someone can have teaching in a foreign country, so if the tiny dorm room we're in is our only problem, it's not really a problem to us. But she used this prayer time as a forum to speak for all three of us, to ask everyone to pray that the school honors our contracts and that the recruiting agency is honest, saying "I mean, it may be okay for them (Rory and Julie), because they are new to China, but for me, it is unacceptable..." And she just kept going on about it. I wish that I could have seen the look on my face, but I tried to make eye contact with everyone there to maybe send some telepathic message that she isn't the spokesperson for all three of us. Granted, I really like the fact that Cecilia is able to help us out with all of the little logistical things involved with living in China for the first time, but I also like to speak for myself. I was pretty livid, but I didn't want to say anything in someone's house--hey, let's have a confrontation in front of our new friends while I eat their fruit and they pray for us. I mean, from their end, they probably just assumed we were religious folk--why else would we be at their little church gathering?

But hearing these nice people, with their heads bowed and eyes closed, praying for us and for our contracts to be honored, right after praying for someone's stillborn baby...I don't know, it just made me really angry that she had the nerve to bring that up. But hey, maybe she thinks that we are as miserable as she is. But this is a good time to note that we aren't having any problems here. We love everyone at the school, they love us and think we're awesome, and we couldn't be happier to be here. It's so different from Korea. Everything has been handled in a really professional way, and the little things, like a broken washing machine (now fixed) or a broken door lock (also fixed) or a minor miscommunication about some little thing (hey, we speak different languages), don't seem like they merit that much complaint or a freaking prayer. That's just me.

After the shindig was over and we were just talking to Thomas, I was completely honest with him. I said that I thought everyone was really nice, but it's an awkward setting when you're agnostic. And now all of those folks have this impression that we're religious, just shy. It's one of those situations that I don't really know how to handle, though when I said "agnostic" to Thomas, I said it a little loud, hoping some other folks would hear. And I'm sure he'll relay the message for us--he's good like that.

After that church "service" (?), I was a little nervous about continuing to hang out with the group. Thomas had to leave to meet a student, so it was just us and them. But, we're adults, so I figured it would be alright. It was. It was more than alright. One of the guys there, Lyndon, who is from New Zealand, took us all to this little restaurant to have a birthday lunch for his daughter, Zoe, who turned 9. It was great. We ate so much delicious food, we got to talk about stuff other than religion, and we enjoyed both speaking in English, and listening to Lyndon speak pretty fluent Chinese. He's also a really funny dude, and he knows all of the best and cheapest spots to go shopping or to hang out in Weihai. Even bars. He invited us back to his apartment, where his wife, Rachel, was decorating the place for the birthday celebration. So we walked over to the apartment and played a bunch of birthday games. Plus, I spent a lot of time on the floor with the little ones, indulging Benjamin (Zoe's little brother) by asking all about the differrent glow-in-the-dark bugs he was showing off. At the end of the day, we were glad we got to meet them, even if we had to suffer through an awkward section of the day.

But even in Korea, when we met some other Americans and some Australians for the first time, we realized that there are a lot of really religious foreigners in Asian countries (we were cracking open beers as they were praying before eating their lunch), and that we're probably the odd men out. It's just another thing that we can add to our list of new things we have done and will do here in the China.

Video town!

Hey yous guys.
It's taken me long enough, but I finally got around to putting together a video. In this installment, we headed to one of the beaches. We walked around for a bit, then we got hungry... so we ate. We filmed it. Here it is.