Freedom. The sweet sweet taste of uncensored freedom. Yes folks, I have broken out of the confines of the Great Firewall to a more beautiful, cleaner, less densely populated place — Seoul. Out of an odd twist of fate it turns out my Dad had to come all the way over to Seoul for business this week. So, I decided to hop on over the Yellow Sea for the weekend to visit my parents and to take a gander at amazing South Korea, home of… well… you know, I’m not really sure. I realized as I was preparing to come over here that I have absolutely no idea what Korean culture is like. I know that their alphabet kind of looks like crop circles. I know that a lot of Korean girls get face lifts at the age of 20 because plastic surgery is so cheap here. I know of the phenomenon that is “kimchi.” But really, I have never in any way experienced Korean culture before. In fact, outside of China, I know almost nothing about the other East Asian countries. Living inside my Chinese “next big superpower, Olympics-hosting, panda-loving” bubble, I’ve never given too much thought to Korea or Japan. But here I am in Seoul. Ready to gain some new perspective. Unfortunately due to horrible jet lag, my parents have passed out early, leaving me nothing to do but eat Double Stuf Oreos and listen to Imogen Heap in my hotel room. But no worries! Because bright and early tomorrow morning, I will be able to embark out on my mission of finding a new non-Sinocentric view of Asian society. First stop? KFC. Korean Fried chicken.
PS: Another 10 RMB for whoever can come up with the best Seoul pun. Contenders so far: Seoul Sister. Seoul Train. Seoul-d Out. Seoul-ange Knowles. Crank that Seoul-jah Boy.
Originally uploaded by monkeyking
Every morning Monday through Friday, I wake up bright and early to go teach English at my Kindergarten. From 8 until 12, my babies and I hang out, make cute decorations for the classroom, learn about different kinds of animals and talk about which one is the biggest, and if we get bored, I pretend I’m a bee and chase them around the classroom. Basically, I’ve turned into Miss Honey.
It’s a good, stress-free life here in Shanghai. Teaching only takes up about 20-30 hours of my week here. A lot less now that the holidays are over. So what have I been doing with my afternoons? Well after New Years rolled around this year, I began to ask myself the same question. (It’s too bad I don’t have a Liz Lemon-esque montage to enter into this blog right now – one that shows me laying around laughing at Chinese soap operas, dancing ridiculously to Taylor Swift, and eating a large bowl of noodles while google image-ing What is a blipster?)
Needless to say, I woke up on New Years Day with the feeling that I really need to do something these next few months. I mean, I’m almost halfway through my vacation year of teaching in China. I need to get out and take this all in! Live life! Learn new things! Enjoy this incredible experience while I still can! Unfortunately, it is extremely cold outside right now so I’m gonna hold off on the living, laughing, and loving until spring. But I have made one vital step in making my time here in China more profitable. I got Chinese tutors. Yes, not one, but multiple Chinese people to teach me. Here’s the scoop:
I recently ran across this great program called IMCPI. It’s a Chinese language school that has the lofty goal of “enabling four-fifths of the world population to speak Mandarin Chinese.” Good luck guys. But one great thing about this institute is that they provide “public welfare activity.” That translates into free Chinese classes. Yes, freeee. From 4:30 to 5:30 every day, they offer to the public free one-on-one tutoring sessions. You decide which days you want to go, you show up, and get someone to tutor you for an hour or so. While there’s usually a catch with these kinds of things, I started going a few weeks ago and have really enjoyed it. All of the staff are super helpful and friendly — every time I come in, they hand me a free cup of water. I’ve had a different tutor every time I’ve gone, which is kind of unfortunate (I think the whole point is to provide training for Chinese-teachers-to-be). I’d rather be learning from a set person， but at least this way I get a little bit of variety in my Chinese schedule. But so far all of the lessons and suggestions have been great. One of my proudest moments in China so far was having a conversation about the economic crisis with one of my tutors. ALL in Chinese. Go me!
So with these new Chinese lessons under my belt, I’m looking forward to the upcoming year. My resolution for 2010 is “enable Betsy to speak Mandarin Chinese.” Hopefully by the time I come back this summer, I will have turned into a fine-tuned Chinese-speaking machine. More importantly, I hope it’ll spice up my resume a little bit. With Advanced Chinese sitting next to TEFL-Certified and Double Dutch champion, what employer could turn me down?
Here’s to the New Year!
I haven’t blogged much about my daily life here in Shanghai. And by that I mean I haven’t blogged much about what I eat here in Shanghai. With so much gooood cheap food to choose from, it’s hard not to be constantly thinking about where I’m going to get my next meal.
However, sometimes meals here can make a sharp turn from immensely satisfying to just plain weird. Take for example, the mystery meat we accidentally ordered the other night for dinner. Apparently asking the server what their favorite dish is doesn’t always turn out well…
10 yuan for whoever can guess what animal is on this delicious looking plate!
(Yes, I’m a little too obsessed with my students.)
Oh the fast pace of Shanghai life. So much has been happening these past (four?) months and I feel like I never get the chance to sit down and write one darn thing about ‘em. So I’m gonna venture back a few months and tell you about one of the funnest events I’ve experienced during my time here on the mainland – a Chinese wedding. Last year one of my fellow Furmanites was lucky enough to be invited to the wedding of his Chinese roommate’s cousin… and ever since, I have lived in envy. I made it my personal mission to be the one attending a wedding this year, befriending anyone I meet who claims they are in a serious relationship solely so I can bribe my way into being at their ceremony of sacred Chinese love.
I don’t know why exactly I wanted to go to a wedding so badly. You’d think I’d be more eager to celebrate the 60th Chinese National Holiday or the upcoming 2010 Shanghai World Expo or the grand opening of the Krispy Kreme down the block. A wedding certainly doesn’t have as much prestige or as many free donuts as these other events. But I guess there are a few things that intrigued me about the fabulous world of weddings here in the Far East. 1) Every day I preview how splendidly tacky beautiful Chinese weddings can potentially be. Downtown you see wedding festivities occurring on a daily basis. Usually it just involves seeing couples engaged in ridiculous wedding photo shoots, complete with the stereotypical ponytailed photographer and the couples all dolled up and twisted into poses that should probably only be seen in Vogue. Seeing the get-up these couples are wearing is reason enough to go. There’s no way that two people wearing that many sequins are going to something boring. 2) After being woken up many mornings by the unexpected blasts of wedding fireworks erupting in my courtyard, I felt someone owed me. 3) Marriage is a huge deal in China. And of course it is in other countries too. Weddings are fun celebrations everywhere. And I thought the added dimension of cultural confusion could only make them better. But I’ve also realized there is a much heftier amount of stress placed on marriage in China than I’ve experienced in the US. Especially now that the One Child policy is in place, marrying off your one and only son or daughter is a big deal. Our generation is intent on finding the right match. Once you see a man pitching a tent in the line 7 subway car with a sign reading, “I do not want to be deprived of the right to marriage because I have no apartment,” you’ll understand.
Gettin to the good stuff, this September I found myself extremely lucky to come under the employment of one Miss “Shirley,” foreign coordinator at my Kindergarten and, most importantly, soon-to-be Mrs. Shirley. Score. After hearing this glorious news I spent the next few weeks in fevered excitement at the prospect of finally being able to attend a true Chinese wedding. And my time had come. One Wednesday afternoon I was hand-delivered an invitation to the Shirley wedding… which was Friday. Ok, a little short notice, but no matter. I was ready. I arrived at the huge Chinese hotel on Friday night with my dancing shoes on, ready to see how Chinese culture gets down. I walked in to meet Shirley right in front, wearing a massive hooped and bedazzled white wedding dress, Mr. Shirley in tow. The other foreign teachers and I took at least an entire roll of pictures with the bride and groom, and then were frantically rushed through the very very pink reception room to our seats. Surprisingly enough, we found we were placed at the same table as the bride and groom. In American weddings this is usually a place of honor, right? Reserved for family and the closest of besties. But there we were, sitting next to the maid of honor and best man while the parents were placed at a completely different table in the back. Is this a normal custom in Chinese weddings? No clue. But it was obvious we were considered guests of honor to good old Shirls, which was sweet of her. After sitting around for a while, taking some more pictures, watching a delightful slideshow of the couple’s photo shoots together, and listening to the same cheesey Chinese song over and over and over again, the ceremony finally began. But it wasn’t exactly a ceremony in the traditional sense of the word. I think the more accurate description would be Decathlon of Love. It was incredible. And long. In fact, it was four weddings in one:
1. The Western Ceremony. The lights dimmed and the traditional “Here Comes the Bride” song sparked up over the loudspeaker. We turned to see beautiful Shirley gliding down the aisle to her groom. They met in the middle of the room, under a massive arch of pink balloons, and Mr. Shirley bent down on one knee and proposed. Hey, better late than never. After that they walked up to the stage and had a host give a good 15 minute speech about the Shirleys neverending love for each other. You may kiss the bride. They then proceeded to pour Champagne into a large glass tower, and cheers each other with red wine (during which I cringed, imagining red wine pouring down Shirley’s beautiful white dress). The music sparked up and they strode hand in hand down the aisle, out the door, off to their honeymoon… or so I thought.
2. The Chinese Ceremony. After a nice ceremony, all the guests sat back and began to feast on the plates and plates and plates of food coming out. About an hour went by during which everyone gorged themselves on delicious Chinese food. I saw many an empty bottle of bai jiu (the Chinese equivalent of Everclear) being replaced at tables. Yes, this party was going to get good. I was anxiously anticipating the moment I would get to see these inebriated elderly Chinese break it down on the dance floor. But then the lights dimmed and the music sparked up. We turned to see Mr. Shirley walking in, with a massive red ribbon, leading Shirley down the aisle again. This time she had changed into a gorgeous red qipao and had placed a huge red bag over her head… hmm a little confused. One of my fellow teachers explained to me that in traditional China, the arranged marriage brides would dress like this. The groom would never have seen his bride until the moment he unveiled her from the red silk bag at his wedding. Mr. Shirley led Shirley blindly through the crowd, up to the stage, and then took a large stick and flipped the veil over to reveal his new bride! Surprise, It’s Shirley!! Then the parents came up to stage. A long succession of bows occurred and the couple was given the families’ blessings. The Shirleys then walked out again, and we began to eat again.
3. The Duet. After eating for another hour or so, the other foreign teachers and I were informed that we were to hurry to the lobby because the next part of the wedding was about to begin. Apparently, we had been cast into this wedding without knowing it — but we were happy to participate and ran to the front to meet the Shirleys. We were given tea candles to hold in each hand and instructed to walk slowly out into the darkened reception room and make a lit path for the couple. We stood on either side of a walkway and the Shirleys walked out holding hands and microphones, singing to each other a beautiful Chinese love ballad. Shirley had changed clothes and hair again and now looked like a mysterious blue Renaissance princess. They sang a few songs to each other, everyone applauded, and we walked around passing out candles to all of the tables. Of course, all of the guests took advantage of this moment to take as many pictures with us as possible. It was a dream come true. Not only was I able to go to a wedding, I was part of the wedding!
4. The Bike Ride. After the song portion of the evening, we sat back down for a little while. I had no idea how long this would go on, but I guess this is the custom with modern Chinese weddings. The small ceremonies keep occurring over and over, with the bride changing into different fabulous outfits Diana Ross-style and coming out until they decide to stop. But I think Shirley kept it appropriate with only four parts, this last time coming out to the wild applause of the guests on a massive white bicycle, driven around by Mr. Shirley. They did a few laps around the room and then the toasts began. Apparently in China the tradition is not for the couple to be toasted, but for them to toast all of their guests. They slowly walked around to each and every table, offering a glass up to their families and friends. But after that, the couple was subject to the cruel whims of these people. If they were told to drink more, they drank more. If they were told to take shots, they took shots. If they were told to smoke out of what I can only describe as a cigarette chandelier, they smoked out of the cigarette chandelier. Needless to say, by the end of the night the Shirleys had celebrated their wedding to the point of physical exhaustion. All of the guests were full after having eaten for hours. A few scattered uncles were passed out at tables. The wedding was a success. I left very very full and very very happy for finally getting to attend my dream wedding. And despite not having any dancing (no dancing?!), it definitely ranks in my top 5 of the funnest nights I’ve had in China.
OK, so I know I haven’t been the best about updating this. But I promise you, dear reader, that I am going to do better in the future. I feel I have finally settled into my life here in Shanghai. I was thinking the other day about how this time last year I was about leave China and come back to Furman to finish my senior year. Now, I’m in the same place but the story’s changed a little. I’ve finally begun to feel like Shanghai is my home instead of a temporary travel stop. And as crazy as it is, this city is slowly growing on me. I’ve never been a big city gal, and I don’t think living here is something I’ll ever get used to. Every day I tread across this huge city, having to travel at least an hour to get anywhere, being shoved through writhing crowds and endless construction, overstimulated by the smells of stinky tofu and the shouts of a language that, as much as I try and try, I still can’t completely understand. Shanghai is a crazy place. But lately, I’ve found that those moments of peace and contentedness have become more common. Those moments where I stop and think — Wow, I really like this place. Could I be using the big L word in the future? Who knows? But for now, Shanghai and I are gonna take things slow and see what happens.
To make up for my lack of blogaliciousness in the past, I’ve smacked together a little flavor for ya’ll. Check out this Flickr slide show to see how I’ve been keeping busy while not working. —– Life in Shanghai
I love coffee. Any coffee. Starbucks coffee. Leopard Forest coffee. Folgers coffee. Coffee from the closest BP. Old Furman Dining Hall coffee. Brew it, and most likely I’ll drink it (I know this doesn’t say much for my taste). But here in Shanghai I have come upon one of the most beautiful, supernatural uses of the coffee bean I have ever encountered — coffee Vietnamese-style. Has anyone ever heard of this? I was intrigued by the “Vietnamese coffee” at a new coffee shop today (Cafe Mojo on Taikang Lu — excellent) and ordered it only to be told it would take FIFTY minutes to brew. Say whaaaat? But man was it worth it. Apparently, this strong Vietnamese coffee is freshly ground when you order it, put in a specific filter which resembles a tin top hat, and then combined with hot water to drip ever-so-slowly over a cup of sweet condensed milk. After waiting so long I probably would have enjoyed anything that remotely tasted like coffee, but within the next 20 minutes of sipping this incredible concoction I experienced sweet sweet caffeine-enhanced nirvana. In fact, in honor of Vietnamese coffee (and probably because of the caffeine high I’ve been on ever since), I’ve written a song for it, sung to the tune of Beyonce’s Ego.
It’s toooo bold. The milk’s white. It’s toooo strong. I want a sip.
It’s too much. Can’t drink enough. It tastes like this cause it’s from Vietnam.
Ok so that wasn’t particularly creative, but it does go to show that this coffee has inspired me. It is now my coffee muse upon which many future coffee tastings will be judged. Can’t wait to go to Vietnam in February and taste the real thing!
While life in the crazy city of Shanghai has yet to prove dull, we recently craved a relaxing retreat from the insanity of being pushed, pulled, honked at, and/or constantly HALLOOO-ed at by the rowdy Shanghainese crowd. So we left the huge city for the peace and tranquility of… another huge Chinese city. You know, it really is very difficult these days to find what one would describe as a “small Chinese city.” While the traditional images of small rural oases where skyscrapers are replaced by rolling karst mountains and crowded streets are traded for rice paddies are definitely out there, they have been a fairly rare sight in my journeys so far. I guess the effects of economic development have made Chinese villages more meccas for new shopping malls and KFCs than teahouses and old Chinese courtyards.
The wonderful thing about Chengdu is that, while being a huge city in China and having all the signs of recent economic growth, it has still preserved a lot of good ole traditional Chinese charm. In fact, the entirety of what I believe to be the delicious, crunchy nougat-core of Chinese culture is fully encapsulated in this great city.
For our seven-day break over the Chinese National Holiday, three other friends and I ventured out to Chengdu and traveled around western Sichuan province. The first two days consisted of enjoying the beautiful city of Chengdu. For centuries, Chengdu has been known for its delicious spicy food, friendly people, and laid-back atmosphere. It’s what I like to think of as the ATL of China. We spent our first few days there taking in some local temples, getting much needed massages, and, actually, doing pretty much nothing at all. But that’s the beauty of Chengdu. Coming to Chengdu and planning out non-stop activities would be an injustice to the atmosphere of the city. Instead, we lived like the locals – sitting around in teahouses and enjoying the weather, some green tea, and a good hand of cards. Sooo nice compared to the hectic pace of Shanghai.
We spent a good majority of our time trying out the notoriously spicy food. Sichuan food is known for liberally employing what I call “tongue-number” – a peppercorn which isn’t so much spicy as anesthetic. A few bites of food in Chengdu and your tongue will start to tingle. Then you’ll curse yourself for accidentally ordering a dish with tongue-number again as your entire mouth turns numb. I’ve never enjoyed this sensation before, but after this trip to Chengdu, I have to say I kind of miss the strange spicy numbing flavor.
One of the nights we spent in Chengdu was the Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival. I think this is the closest equivalent of our Thanksgiving – families get together, eat good food, and then “gaze at the moon.” We managed to do two of those things. Luckily, Stephanie has family living in Chengdu, so we were hospitably welcomed into their home for the evening. We had a great time – spending hours making about 10 pounds of big dumplings from scratch and then gorging ourselves. I didn’t count how many dumpling I ate, but if I had to put a number on it, I would say about 21? Yikes. Her family was super nice and even pretended to understand my limited Chinese.
The next day we ventured outside the city limits to see the big Buddha in Sichuan province. Carved into a rock cliff on the side of a river, it is supposedly the largest Buddha in the world. I offered some prayers, so if you’re a friend or family you’re good and blessed for the next year or so.
We then travelled out to Emei Shan – one of the holiest Buddhist mountains in China. This place definitely makes top 5 in the places I’ve been in the country. While the bottom and top of the mountain are swarming with tourists, the hikes in between were absolutely breathtaking and blissful. Our first day, we got up in the wee hours of the morning to hop on a bus to the mountain. After two hours of ascending up and up, watching the sun slowly rise and the dew collect on our rainforesty surroundings, we arrived at a bus stop about halfway up the mountain and started our trek. Now ya’ll, hiking in China is drastically different than hiking in America. I’ve visited three different mountains in China, and at every one, the trails up to the top are basically just long, steep, never-ending series of stone steps. AKA misery. So for about two hours we huffed and puffed up to the summit, climbing stair after stair, stopping only when the Chinese tourists asked us to take pictures with them. However, the pain was definitely worth it. We got up to the Golden Summit, a peak with a beautiful golden statue of buddha Puxian and some temples, and saw only a sea of clouds below us and blue sky above. We grabbed a restorative lunch of corn-on-the-cob and meat-on-a-stick, and we vegged out, taking in the beautiful scenery that China is known for.
The next day, we spent some more time hiking around the bottom part of the mountain. Here we were free of the main tourist crowd to take in the beautiful rainforest solo. It’s so rare here to see any piece of land that hasn’t been taken advantage of commercially, so being in the middle of the woods alone was wonderful. We hiked around for hours, occasionally running across a small temple or a noodle stand. As it started lightly raining, we ducked into the main hall of one temple, completely dark and abandoned save for one monk chanting his mantras. As we sat listening and watching the rain come down, I wondered if some of the mountain’s residents had ever ventured out of these woods before. On the way there, we saw many hired men carrying heavy loads of supplies down the forest trails and into these small temples and houses. Had the people living there ever had to visit the outside world before? Or did they only know the forest and the occasional tourist group peeking in at their doorways? I guess it’s most likely they had been out many times and were actually listening to Britney Spears on their knock-off iPhones in the back. But at the time, the romance of this ignorance was pretty enviable.
Last but not least, we encountered the monkeys. We had heard rumors of the legendary “Monkey Zone” on Emei Shan. But not until we had monkeys swinging from our backpacks did we realize how intense it would be. Along our hike, we had many Chinese tourists stop us and tell us to hide all of our food and water in our backpacks. “There are monkeys coming up,” they would say. Uhhh ok. Rounding the corners of the mountain we were on constant look out for surprise simians – laughing awkwardly as we realized that we were all holding our breath, legitimately scared of the impending encounter. Later on in the hike, we heard screams on the trail ahead and braced ourselves. We walked up to find a good three-foot tall monkey glaring at one frozen Chinese girl, a whole ripped in her poncho where the monkey had tried to go in for the goods. We speed-walked down the trail, narrowly avoiding attack until one lunged at my hand. But we got through ok. It was only later that we realized we would have to walk through the Monkey Zone again to get home. There was no other way. And this time we weren’t so lucky. Liz actually had one huge monkey jump on her back, and she had to swing around violently to fling it off of her. One elderly Chinese lady, who we later realized worked there, screamed at us WALK WALK WALK in Chinese and then accompanied us bodyguard-style down the rest of the path. At one point she stopped, walked into the woods, came back with large stones, and then made us get together in huddle formation as she passed out stones and counseled us on what the rest of the trail would be like. Unfortunately we didn’t understand a word of this. Walking on, I looked back to see Liz’s latest assailant, the old grandpa monkey with one arm. He had been silently stalking us. As we walked quickly on, I realized the one-armed monkey was gaining on us, gimping faster and faster down the trail. At last when we crossed the wooden bridge near the end of the trail, I looked back to see the monkey hobbling full-speed across the bridge at us. I yelled THE ONE-ARMED MONKEY IS COMING and we all proceeded to scream humiliatingly loud as our bodyguard chucked rocks at it. Lucky for us she was there because the monkey ran past us and down the path, leaving us extremely embarrassed but nonetheless untouched by his one greedy monkey hand.
So there it is. My week in Sichuan. We also managed to throw in some pandas and hot springs for good measure, but I think this entry is about as lengthy as need be. The week was absolutely wonderful and it made me truly realize how happy I am to be back in China. Until next time, check out Flickr for more pictures – including Halloween fun with the kiddies!
bg.
Originally uploaded by betsy.gass
… Eggplant ai ni.
For those unfortunate souls who have never had the great fortune to taste the beauty of the Chinese eggplant dish, I would recommend you drive over to Great Wall II immediately and demand they whisk you up some ‘Yu Xiang Qie Zi’ ASAP. They will most likely laugh and then turn you down — not because they just don’t have it on their menu and not because the tones you just used to say that made it sound like you were ordering a “surprised-looking penguin” — but because gas stoves in the US can’t even get hot enough to cook this delectable dish the way it is done every day, in every restaurant in China. In thus lies the beauty of Chinese eggplant. While I never particularly enjoyed eggplant in the US, here the beautifully-steamed then stir-fried til it’s oh-my-lawd-so-good vegetable is a weekly staple to our Chinese cheap-eats diet in Shanghai. We discovered the beauty of this dish last year, and as an update for the Fall in China 08 crew: It’s still good.
I won’t go into more detail lest I get hungry, but my fellow eggplant-lover Stephanie has cataloged more about the beauty of ‘qie zi’ including a recipe for the brave — stephanieliu.wordpress.com.
Occasionally when I’m surfing through preschool lesson planning websites, trying desperately to find something for my kids to do in the coming week, I run upon things that make me mildly uncomfortable. Here are some coloring pages for the theme CATS that… just make me cringe a little.
“Cat Dad and Son”
“Boxing Cat”
“Fat Cat Family”
Maybe it’s just me and my aversion to all anthropomorphized objects, but if I was given those to draw as a child, I would cry.
More updates soon on my amazing Natty Holiday and continuing education! BG.
