As part of my never ending quest to prove that China is doomed to fail...
Of course, walking or driving the streets of Beijing or Shanghai, one gets the impression of a hustling, bustling economy in full flight, as evidenced by construction and crowded streets and stores, combined with western-style traffic jams. Nevertheless, China is not without serious problems, which it must address if it is to sustain growth rates of 9% per year. The reality is that the country is advancing at different paces in different regions, and the wealth gaps are widening.
Of course if I'm right the rest of the world will get fucked as well...
but life's a series of peaks and valleys.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Thursday, November 24, 2005
exit stage right
This is a rather long blog, so I apologize in advance.
It is generally agreed that there are five stages one goes through after arriving in China. These vary on how long you stay for and how much studying/interest you showed in the country before arriving, but the roughly break down as such:
The first stage is the initial excitement upon entering a new country. Little things like seeing neon characters everywhere and people cooking barbeque on the street corner are exciting and fresh and new.
Stage two is an overall disgust for the country. Depending on your personality, the time from stage one to stage two can be between 10 minutes and a week. Underneath the neon characters, people are spitting, yelling, the food smells, the street smells, children are running around without pants on and people are laughing at them.
In stage three, one attempts to understand the culture. They shake off the disgust as unfamiliarity and jet lag and begin to really dive into the oldest civilization in the world. This stage produces the most annoying individuals by far. These people focus hard on learning the language. They wake up early and go to the parks to learn Tai Chi. They only talk to Chinese people. They drink baijiu and refuse to eat any food that isn't Chinese. Fengshui is deep. They start naming calligraphy as a hobby and introduce themselves by their Chinese names. They don't talk to any foreigners who aren't also in stage three. Stage three lasts between 1-12months, also depending on the individual.
Stage four is the realization that your initial assessment in stage two was correct. The country is just loud, annoying, and dirty. People shit in the street and spit on each other. They eat dogs for fun. This isn't a particular cultural aspect to be learned, they really are evil. The Chinese are actually that mean to each other. There is no deep meaning and the oldest civilization has only lasted so long because nobody else would actually want to put up with conquering these people.
You drink a lot in stage four. All your friends are in stage two, four or five (which I'll get to). You hate everyone in stage three more than the Chinese. You desperately try to convert stage two people to skipping stage three. You sleep a lot. You lose interest in things you used to enjoy. Most other places in the world refer to this as 'depression', but here in China we just call it stage four. I think most of this blog took place in stage four. Stage four lasts until you realize you're leaving the country. This could be up to 10 years for some people. I think some people never leave stage four. The glorious depressed I guess.
When I go out at night I run into people in stage four all the time. They're hunched over a drink at the bar, staring into nothing. If you go up and ask them how they are, they shrug. When you ask what the matter is, the response is, "I don't know, I'm just bored. You know?" I usually just pat them on the back and tell them it will be okay. We all hope so at least.
Stage five comes with the realization that you're leaving China. Like a great weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You also drink a lot in stage five, but it's more celebratory than 'drowning your sorrows' kind of drink. A renewed interest for China emerges and you start going out to 'cultural' events and traveling again. Not like the stage three people, this time you have a good sense of sarcasm with you and realize it's all bullshit and just a good opportunity to try out new bars. China's still a shithole, but you don't care because you're leaving. I've heard it compared to 'Senior Stretch'.
I am currently in stage five. Thank God. I still lapse into stage four clearly, but for the most part I'm just counting down the days. Of course in any of these stages, one is prone to lapse into a lower stage.
Stage five is dangerous because with all the celebrating you begin to mistaken these good times as China is a great place and then after you return, you remember this time and think it may be okay to come back. This is why later in life you find yourself getting off a plane in China and wondering, "What the hell am I doing back here?"
Seeing as this is only my second 'real' time in China, I'm not sure if you go through all the stages each time you return. I think you do, but they just go by faster. Like, I'm pretty sure I went through stage 1-3 in about 2 and a half weeks this time. I really don't want to think about next time. And there will be one.
Of course, once you leave China there are another five stages.
The first is an overwhelming feeling of relief and joy immediately upon entering the plane. This is amplified when a foreign(!) stewardess tells the Chinese in the back of the plane they have to be quiet and they sit there stunned.
The second stage is mostly just a strong craving for Chinese food.
The third is an annoyance with anyone who tries to talk about China with some kind of knowledge and hasn't been here. Even if it's negative, you don't want to hear it. Unless you've done it, you can't possibly understand. And the fact that you (the individual who was in China) care what people have to say on the topic pisses you off the most.
The fourth stage is a rejection of having any connection with China at all. You no longer talk about it in conversation and you fail to bring up that you've spent a substantial amount of time there. The only real indicator that you may know something about the middle kingdom is a strong insistence in Chinese restaurants.
I remember when I was living in Sydney one of my good friends came over to my house. We'd known each other for about four months. She was in my room and noticed my Chinese-English dictionary on my bookshelf.
"You speak Chinese?"
"Oh, um, yeah, I lived there for a semester in college, and I'll probably be there next year."
She looked at me as though seeing a complete stranger.
Although you attempt to reject any connection to China, it still creeps up in different ways. Like you find yourself in Chinatown on various occasions and you try to conspicuously click 'Asia-Pacific' on every news webpage. For example, for the past four years a Chinese person has cut my hair. For some reason, I feel the need to go to Chinatown every time I need a trim. I also always tend to have frozen dumplings in my fridge, no matter where I am in the world.
Stage five is the realization that you're going to have to go back to China. It's gnawed at you, it's taunted you and now you have to return. You've been reading articles about the country for too long. Your Chinese has fallen apart. Your dreams are amazingly clear without the MSG. It's the sad acceptance of the inevitable that you don't want to happen.
One day I hope to never hit stage five. I think this may be pretty likely, since most of the people who continue to return to China throughout there life are egotistical males, I may be okay. I only fit half that definition.
This leads me to the type of people who find themselves in China. I was going to get to that in this blog, but it may have to wait. It's pretty basic - we all think we're better than anyone else - but I may want to get into some particularities.
It is generally agreed that there are five stages one goes through after arriving in China. These vary on how long you stay for and how much studying/interest you showed in the country before arriving, but the roughly break down as such:
The first stage is the initial excitement upon entering a new country. Little things like seeing neon characters everywhere and people cooking barbeque on the street corner are exciting and fresh and new.
Stage two is an overall disgust for the country. Depending on your personality, the time from stage one to stage two can be between 10 minutes and a week. Underneath the neon characters, people are spitting, yelling, the food smells, the street smells, children are running around without pants on and people are laughing at them.
In stage three, one attempts to understand the culture. They shake off the disgust as unfamiliarity and jet lag and begin to really dive into the oldest civilization in the world. This stage produces the most annoying individuals by far. These people focus hard on learning the language. They wake up early and go to the parks to learn Tai Chi. They only talk to Chinese people. They drink baijiu and refuse to eat any food that isn't Chinese. Fengshui is deep. They start naming calligraphy as a hobby and introduce themselves by their Chinese names. They don't talk to any foreigners who aren't also in stage three. Stage three lasts between 1-12months, also depending on the individual.
Stage four is the realization that your initial assessment in stage two was correct. The country is just loud, annoying, and dirty. People shit in the street and spit on each other. They eat dogs for fun. This isn't a particular cultural aspect to be learned, they really are evil. The Chinese are actually that mean to each other. There is no deep meaning and the oldest civilization has only lasted so long because nobody else would actually want to put up with conquering these people.
You drink a lot in stage four. All your friends are in stage two, four or five (which I'll get to). You hate everyone in stage three more than the Chinese. You desperately try to convert stage two people to skipping stage three. You sleep a lot. You lose interest in things you used to enjoy. Most other places in the world refer to this as 'depression', but here in China we just call it stage four. I think most of this blog took place in stage four. Stage four lasts until you realize you're leaving the country. This could be up to 10 years for some people. I think some people never leave stage four. The glorious depressed I guess.
When I go out at night I run into people in stage four all the time. They're hunched over a drink at the bar, staring into nothing. If you go up and ask them how they are, they shrug. When you ask what the matter is, the response is, "I don't know, I'm just bored. You know?" I usually just pat them on the back and tell them it will be okay. We all hope so at least.
Stage five comes with the realization that you're leaving China. Like a great weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You also drink a lot in stage five, but it's more celebratory than 'drowning your sorrows' kind of drink. A renewed interest for China emerges and you start going out to 'cultural' events and traveling again. Not like the stage three people, this time you have a good sense of sarcasm with you and realize it's all bullshit and just a good opportunity to try out new bars. China's still a shithole, but you don't care because you're leaving. I've heard it compared to 'Senior Stretch'.
I am currently in stage five. Thank God. I still lapse into stage four clearly, but for the most part I'm just counting down the days. Of course in any of these stages, one is prone to lapse into a lower stage.
Stage five is dangerous because with all the celebrating you begin to mistaken these good times as China is a great place and then after you return, you remember this time and think it may be okay to come back. This is why later in life you find yourself getting off a plane in China and wondering, "What the hell am I doing back here?"
Seeing as this is only my second 'real' time in China, I'm not sure if you go through all the stages each time you return. I think you do, but they just go by faster. Like, I'm pretty sure I went through stage 1-3 in about 2 and a half weeks this time. I really don't want to think about next time. And there will be one.
Of course, once you leave China there are another five stages.
The first is an overwhelming feeling of relief and joy immediately upon entering the plane. This is amplified when a foreign(!) stewardess tells the Chinese in the back of the plane they have to be quiet and they sit there stunned.
The second stage is mostly just a strong craving for Chinese food.
The third is an annoyance with anyone who tries to talk about China with some kind of knowledge and hasn't been here. Even if it's negative, you don't want to hear it. Unless you've done it, you can't possibly understand. And the fact that you (the individual who was in China) care what people have to say on the topic pisses you off the most.
The fourth stage is a rejection of having any connection with China at all. You no longer talk about it in conversation and you fail to bring up that you've spent a substantial amount of time there. The only real indicator that you may know something about the middle kingdom is a strong insistence in Chinese restaurants.
I remember when I was living in Sydney one of my good friends came over to my house. We'd known each other for about four months. She was in my room and noticed my Chinese-English dictionary on my bookshelf.
"You speak Chinese?"
"Oh, um, yeah, I lived there for a semester in college, and I'll probably be there next year."
She looked at me as though seeing a complete stranger.
Although you attempt to reject any connection to China, it still creeps up in different ways. Like you find yourself in Chinatown on various occasions and you try to conspicuously click 'Asia-Pacific' on every news webpage. For example, for the past four years a Chinese person has cut my hair. For some reason, I feel the need to go to Chinatown every time I need a trim. I also always tend to have frozen dumplings in my fridge, no matter where I am in the world.
Stage five is the realization that you're going to have to go back to China. It's gnawed at you, it's taunted you and now you have to return. You've been reading articles about the country for too long. Your Chinese has fallen apart. Your dreams are amazingly clear without the MSG. It's the sad acceptance of the inevitable that you don't want to happen.
One day I hope to never hit stage five. I think this may be pretty likely, since most of the people who continue to return to China throughout there life are egotistical males, I may be okay. I only fit half that definition.
This leads me to the type of people who find themselves in China. I was going to get to that in this blog, but it may have to wait. It's pretty basic - we all think we're better than anyone else - but I may want to get into some particularities.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
heilongjiang
So I was having an argument last night on why I don't think China will be the next superpower, when I ran across this today:
China confirms "major" pollution of river
I wish they would have specified which river in the title, because I read that and instantly considered myself walking dead. Luckily for me, Harbin is a couple thousand miles away. But that doesn't matter, because it could have (and still may) happened to the Yangtze or the Yellow River or outside of Hong Kong. In which case the damage would be enormous. Beyond anything imaginable in the west. New Orleans would have nothing on a fuck up in Shanghai. Clearly, China has too many domestic problems to become the new hegemon.
I actually used to live in Harbin for about a month. Although it has 9 million people, it's still a small city. Kind of like Minneapolis. People are nicer there, they speak clearly, and the food is terrible. It's a pretty dull town. Nice Russian architecture. It only has two 'night clubs'. I realize that the number of night clubs doesn't determine how fun a place is, but when you're stuck in a small town, south of Siberia you become pretty dependent on it. Anyway, overall it's a pretty cute place. They have an ice festival in the winter. They also host the International Ski Conference. I helped put that together actually when I worked for the UN Industrial Development Organization. Obviously the UN knows where development is needed most in China - the ski slopes. This way the Chinese who are finally rich enough to ski, now have decent facilities to do so. I actually know some people in Harbin (well if I ever emailed them I would), I hope they're ok.
China confirms "major" pollution of river
I wish they would have specified which river in the title, because I read that and instantly considered myself walking dead. Luckily for me, Harbin is a couple thousand miles away. But that doesn't matter, because it could have (and still may) happened to the Yangtze or the Yellow River or outside of Hong Kong. In which case the damage would be enormous. Beyond anything imaginable in the west. New Orleans would have nothing on a fuck up in Shanghai. Clearly, China has too many domestic problems to become the new hegemon.
I actually used to live in Harbin for about a month. Although it has 9 million people, it's still a small city. Kind of like Minneapolis. People are nicer there, they speak clearly, and the food is terrible. It's a pretty dull town. Nice Russian architecture. It only has two 'night clubs'. I realize that the number of night clubs doesn't determine how fun a place is, but when you're stuck in a small town, south of Siberia you become pretty dependent on it. Anyway, overall it's a pretty cute place. They have an ice festival in the winter. They also host the International Ski Conference. I helped put that together actually when I worked for the UN Industrial Development Organization. Obviously the UN knows where development is needed most in China - the ski slopes. This way the Chinese who are finally rich enough to ski, now have decent facilities to do so. I actually know some people in Harbin (well if I ever emailed them I would), I hope they're ok.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
PT-141
I just read about the new sex drug.
It is non-addictive, easy to use, has no serious physical side effects.
If this drug does what it says it does, there is no way it is 'non-addictive'. Fuck, I read the article 4 times on the prospect of a hit.
The article in New York Magazine is pretty good.
It is non-addictive, easy to use, has no serious physical side effects.
If this drug does what it says it does, there is no way it is 'non-addictive'. Fuck, I read the article 4 times on the prospect of a hit.
The article in New York Magazine is pretty good.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
水
Wow, bushie can ride a bike. Try it out on the streets of Beijing next time.
All I have to say is, Thank god he has that water bottle.
So anyway, I went to the gym the morning, but I forgot my water bottle. This normally isn't a problem because I can buy water there. So I went to the little cafe where I usually buy water but nobody was there. So I went and asked this girl who worked a the gym if I could buy water. She was watching TV on a big screen TV and told me I'd have to wait for the attendant. So I sat down and waited about 5 minutes. I got kind of annoyed, so I went and asked a guy at the main desk if I could get some water. He told me that it wouldn't open for another hour.
It's fucking gym. They'd been open for 5 hours already. If nothing else, they should have water available.. The guy told me I could drink from the tap. I got annoyed and went and sat in the steam room for longer than I should have considering I had no water. I didn't end up working out.
1680
Look how puny and sad Shanghai was. Just like Santa Fe.
Actually, according to this map, the only place that hasn't changed in the past 325 years in Manila.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Friday, November 18, 2005
the dam
I've recently installed Google Analytics on my blog so I can spy on everyone who visits, but so far it's produced no data. This leads me to the only conclusion possible - that nobody is actually reading my blog. That's okay, I'll still keep typing away to myself.
I'm waiting for my brother to return from Yangshuo. He's been in China almost two weeks now. He was up in BJ for a couple days and was down here for a week before I told him he should probably leave and see another bit of China. It's easy to get wrapped up in the eating/drinking/lazy life of Shanghai for a week or, hmmmm 6 months or so.
Anyway, if he's smarter than me he won't return. I've only received one text message from him since he got there, "This place is like Chinese Amsterdam." I'm not so sure I'd call it an Amsterdam. It's a much smaller town, and the electronic music scene is nowhere close to what is produced in The Netherlands.
I've discovered what pisses me off about places that are normally hot or warm getting cold. This happened in Sydney as well. Like, it's definitely cold right now, but it has none of the usual cold indicators. For example, I can't see my breath. Since I grew up in a place where we had to scrape ice off our car windows and wake up early to shovel snow so we could get to school on time (I actually never woke up early, I opted on being late and blaming the snow instead), I feel like I really shouldn't complain. But I'm still damn cold. Of course, I'm not wearing a sweater or anything heavy right now, so I guess I can't really complain, but Shanghai should be warm.
Okay, I'm just killing time online now. I would go watch a DVD, but I've seen every DVD made by man, and even some that aren't supposed to be made. Actually, most of them were never supposed to be made. Thanks to ridiculously cheap, pirated DVDs, I've had access to an array of shows. Even the deaf/mute couple at the end of the ally were burning DVDs and VCDs while I sat there. I don't even like movies. I'm not restricted to just movies though. I've also seen every television show made in the past 5 years. The TV shows are actually more dangerous. Because it doesn't take up just an hour of your time. You sit down to watch one, and twelve hours later you're still watching the first series.
Whatever, I'll figure out something to do.
I'm waiting for my brother to return from Yangshuo. He's been in China almost two weeks now. He was up in BJ for a couple days and was down here for a week before I told him he should probably leave and see another bit of China. It's easy to get wrapped up in the eating/drinking/lazy life of Shanghai for a week or, hmmmm 6 months or so.
Anyway, if he's smarter than me he won't return. I've only received one text message from him since he got there, "This place is like Chinese Amsterdam." I'm not so sure I'd call it an Amsterdam. It's a much smaller town, and the electronic music scene is nowhere close to what is produced in The Netherlands.
I've discovered what pisses me off about places that are normally hot or warm getting cold. This happened in Sydney as well. Like, it's definitely cold right now, but it has none of the usual cold indicators. For example, I can't see my breath. Since I grew up in a place where we had to scrape ice off our car windows and wake up early to shovel snow so we could get to school on time (I actually never woke up early, I opted on being late and blaming the snow instead), I feel like I really shouldn't complain. But I'm still damn cold. Of course, I'm not wearing a sweater or anything heavy right now, so I guess I can't really complain, but Shanghai should be warm.
Okay, I'm just killing time online now. I would go watch a DVD, but I've seen every DVD made by man, and even some that aren't supposed to be made. Actually, most of them were never supposed to be made. Thanks to ridiculously cheap, pirated DVDs, I've had access to an array of shows. Even the deaf/mute couple at the end of the ally were burning DVDs and VCDs while I sat there. I don't even like movies. I'm not restricted to just movies though. I've also seen every television show made in the past 5 years. The TV shows are actually more dangerous. Because it doesn't take up just an hour of your time. You sit down to watch one, and twelve hours later you're still watching the first series.
Whatever, I'll figure out something to do.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
my home sweet home
Just some highlights from the Economist article The Meaning of America.
...Every year since 1986, near Millsboro, the Punkin Chunkin has been held. Last week, 100 teams vied to see whose machine could toss an 8-10lb (3.6-4.6kg) pumpkin farthest. There were various categories: air cannons, trebuchets, pedal-powered doohickeys. No explosives are allowed—a galling rule to some contestants. But the biggest air cannons, with barrels up to 150 feet (46 metres) long, can shoot their fruit projectiles most of a mile, making each one what one spectator called “one heck of a peashooter”.
Need one spell out that virtually all the competitors are male? ....
It is not just that men like shooting things. Many of them also like fiddling with big gadgets. And the Punkin Chunkin shows what can be achieved when hundreds of mechanically adept minds focus on one utterly pointless objective...
After each pumpkin lands, eager men on quad bikes zoom around looking for the crater and then start triangulating.
All in all, Punkin Chunkin is a symbol of what makes America great. Only in the richest country on earth could regular guys spend tens of thousands of dollars building a pumpkin gun. Only in a nation with such a fine tradition of inventiveness, not to mention martial prowess, would so many choose to. And only in a land of wide open spaces would they be able to practise their chunkin without killing their neighbours. Alas, the 285-acre cornfield where Punkin Chunkin has been held for the past 20 years is soon to be sold and developed. But the chunkers will probably move to Maryland.
...Every year since 1986, near Millsboro, the Punkin Chunkin has been held. Last week, 100 teams vied to see whose machine could toss an 8-10lb (3.6-4.6kg) pumpkin farthest. There were various categories: air cannons, trebuchets, pedal-powered doohickeys. No explosives are allowed—a galling rule to some contestants. But the biggest air cannons, with barrels up to 150 feet (46 metres) long, can shoot their fruit projectiles most of a mile, making each one what one spectator called “one heck of a peashooter”.
Need one spell out that virtually all the competitors are male? ....
It is not just that men like shooting things. Many of them also like fiddling with big gadgets. And the Punkin Chunkin shows what can be achieved when hundreds of mechanically adept minds focus on one utterly pointless objective...
After each pumpkin lands, eager men on quad bikes zoom around looking for the crater and then start triangulating.
All in all, Punkin Chunkin is a symbol of what makes America great. Only in the richest country on earth could regular guys spend tens of thousands of dollars building a pumpkin gun. Only in a nation with such a fine tradition of inventiveness, not to mention martial prowess, would so many choose to. And only in a land of wide open spaces would they be able to practise their chunkin without killing their neighbours. Alas, the 285-acre cornfield where Punkin Chunkin has been held for the past 20 years is soon to be sold and developed. But the chunkers will probably move to Maryland.
grinning idiot
It's getting cold in Shanghai now. I actually have to wear my coat when I go outside. I would say it came out of nowhere, but I guess it is the middle of November.
For some reason there are printing/photo shops every five feet in China. Probably just as an excuse to cut down trees but I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, I needed some passport photos for various reasons so I had to stop in one today.
I figured I'd just go out to one on the main street where I catch my bus, but as I was walking to the Kodak store I saw a little red sign in Chinese advertising passport photos. The main street where I catch my bus is lined with name brand clothing, cosmetic, and other retail stores. Across the street from the first Sephora in China a sign was propped up against a little ally way about as wide as a door.
I figured it had to be cheaper than the Kodak store so I started walking down this narrow, otherwise unmarked ally. About 50 feet in it came to a 'T' with just another small written sign and an arrow pointing to the right. I took a right and continued to walk in behind the storage rooms of the stores on the main street to a door that had another arrow. I walked up a couple flights of wooden stairs that were falling apart and had cracks on the walls.
Now, since I've grown up watching scary movies and the news, part me was on guard and expecting to be robbed, raped, and/or murdered at the end of this journey. Fortunately, at the top of the stairs was just a small 10'x10' room with three computers, numerous different types of hardware, a copy machine, and a blank wall for passport photos.
Out popped a small Chinese couple sucking on popsicles. Like most Chinese when they see a foreigner, they started grunting and pointing. I told them in Chinese that they could speak Chinese to me, but then they pointed to their ears indicating they were deaf. I only felt like an asshole for about 5 seconds.
Not only were they deaf and mute, but after trying to negotiate a price with them over a piece of written paper I learned they were nearly blind too. And I thought I was going to be drugged and murdered.
Anyway, somehow they managed to take my picture straight and print it out okay. They wouldn't let me smile in the picture so I look like a serial killer. Every time I'd try to sneak in a grin last minute, they'd indicate I'd ruined the picture and take another one. Since I don't really sleep because of noise, light, and the fear of never waking up, I think I have permanent bags under my eyes so the 'America's Most Wanted' look really shows.
So anyway, there's my Shanghai 'charm' for the week. Take it whatever way you want.
Also, a month from today I leave China...
For some reason there are printing/photo shops every five feet in China. Probably just as an excuse to cut down trees but I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, I needed some passport photos for various reasons so I had to stop in one today.
I figured I'd just go out to one on the main street where I catch my bus, but as I was walking to the Kodak store I saw a little red sign in Chinese advertising passport photos. The main street where I catch my bus is lined with name brand clothing, cosmetic, and other retail stores. Across the street from the first Sephora in China a sign was propped up against a little ally way about as wide as a door.
I figured it had to be cheaper than the Kodak store so I started walking down this narrow, otherwise unmarked ally. About 50 feet in it came to a 'T' with just another small written sign and an arrow pointing to the right. I took a right and continued to walk in behind the storage rooms of the stores on the main street to a door that had another arrow. I walked up a couple flights of wooden stairs that were falling apart and had cracks on the walls.
Now, since I've grown up watching scary movies and the news, part me was on guard and expecting to be robbed, raped, and/or murdered at the end of this journey. Fortunately, at the top of the stairs was just a small 10'x10' room with three computers, numerous different types of hardware, a copy machine, and a blank wall for passport photos.
Out popped a small Chinese couple sucking on popsicles. Like most Chinese when they see a foreigner, they started grunting and pointing. I told them in Chinese that they could speak Chinese to me, but then they pointed to their ears indicating they were deaf. I only felt like an asshole for about 5 seconds.
Not only were they deaf and mute, but after trying to negotiate a price with them over a piece of written paper I learned they were nearly blind too. And I thought I was going to be drugged and murdered.
Anyway, somehow they managed to take my picture straight and print it out okay. They wouldn't let me smile in the picture so I look like a serial killer. Every time I'd try to sneak in a grin last minute, they'd indicate I'd ruined the picture and take another one. Since I don't really sleep because of noise, light, and the fear of never waking up, I think I have permanent bags under my eyes so the 'America's Most Wanted' look really shows.
So anyway, there's my Shanghai 'charm' for the week. Take it whatever way you want.
Also, a month from today I leave China...
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Monday, November 07, 2005
giant balls
I just finished reading an article about the problems an overseas Chinese woman from Singapore who had returned to live in Shanghai as an expat was facing.
"I always thought I was Chinese.. until we moved to China."
Also, in a sad moment for animal activists, tobacco companies, and the circle of life in general, Ai Ai, a chimpanzee in a Shaanxi province zoo, has finally been able to quit smoking after 16 years. Where else but China could you get a nicotine-addicted chimps? Life's such a bitch here that even the animals have resorted to chain smoking.
Some tennis master's cup is taking place or has taken place in Shanghai. I don't care about sports at all, so I don't know. Anyway, as a result there are enormous yellow tennis balls all around the city. I'm not kidding. I think they're trying to be artistic. They've even dug up ground around them to make it look like they were hit hard enough to be planted into the ground. There are also a lot of tennis ball balloons floating around. I'll try to get a picture but my camera has been slightly fucked since its existence.
The Chinese like to ask what sports I play.
Badmitton?
No.
Tennis?
No.
Table tennis?
No. Basketball is ok, mostly I just run though.
Only running?
Yes, I don't like team sports.
They never understand that.
"I always thought I was Chinese.. until we moved to China."
Also, in a sad moment for animal activists, tobacco companies, and the circle of life in general, Ai Ai, a chimpanzee in a Shaanxi province zoo, has finally been able to quit smoking after 16 years. Where else but China could you get a nicotine-addicted chimps? Life's such a bitch here that even the animals have resorted to chain smoking.
Some tennis master's cup is taking place or has taken place in Shanghai. I don't care about sports at all, so I don't know. Anyway, as a result there are enormous yellow tennis balls all around the city. I'm not kidding. I think they're trying to be artistic. They've even dug up ground around them to make it look like they were hit hard enough to be planted into the ground. There are also a lot of tennis ball balloons floating around. I'll try to get a picture but my camera has been slightly fucked since its existence.
The Chinese like to ask what sports I play.
Badmitton?
No.
Tennis?
No.
Table tennis?
No. Basketball is ok, mostly I just run though.
Only running?
Yes, I don't like team sports.
They never understand that.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
who's hungry
I came across some disturbing material the other day that isn't Chinese.
Man allegedly fantasised about eating girls
I told a friend about the article and further introduced me to the entire 'feeding on femmes fetish.' Which was actually pretty disturbing that he knew so much about it. I googled it for a bit and became increasingly disturbed and swore of googling fetishes ever again. I did come across a kind of funny parody site that was set up as a response to how woman are portrayed as meat in the media. Sort of a literal demonstration.
So anyway, if you ever think you're fucked up and a bit weird, just think of the people who are getting off on the prospect of eating you. Unless you are one of those people. Then you're probably just screwed, and I'm never ordering food with you again.
There's no real China news. I needed a haircut this weekend and I wanted a massage, and fortunately, a Chinese haircut combines both. It's sort of a cheap way to relax, or would be if they hairdressers didn't insist on speaking to me the entire time. My very skinny 'stylist' had long curly hair and a pubic-hair moustache. His pinky fingernail was about two inches long. He didn't use clips to hold up my hair but had 3 assistants around him that would hold it up for him. But he did an okay job, so I'm happy.
I've got some family coming into Shanghai tomorrow. We'll see how that goes.
Man allegedly fantasised about eating girls
I told a friend about the article and further introduced me to the entire 'feeding on femmes fetish.' Which was actually pretty disturbing that he knew so much about it. I googled it for a bit and became increasingly disturbed and swore of googling fetishes ever again. I did come across a kind of funny parody site that was set up as a response to how woman are portrayed as meat in the media. Sort of a literal demonstration.
So anyway, if you ever think you're fucked up and a bit weird, just think of the people who are getting off on the prospect of eating you. Unless you are one of those people. Then you're probably just screwed, and I'm never ordering food with you again.
There's no real China news. I needed a haircut this weekend and I wanted a massage, and fortunately, a Chinese haircut combines both. It's sort of a cheap way to relax, or would be if they hairdressers didn't insist on speaking to me the entire time. My very skinny 'stylist' had long curly hair and a pubic-hair moustache. His pinky fingernail was about two inches long. He didn't use clips to hold up my hair but had 3 assistants around him that would hold it up for him. But he did an okay job, so I'm happy.
I've got some family coming into Shanghai tomorrow. We'll see how that goes.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
the end of the rope
I have the day off today so I'm at home right now. We ran out of water so I had to order some more and wait until he gets here. This is the equivalent of waiting for the cable guy in the US. I may be here all day.
It's not that we're posh and we feel the need to drink only from a water cooler, but the tap water here is undrinkable, so everyone has a water cooler. We could boil our own water - which I did in Lin'an - but that just sucks. So anyway, I'm stuck here waiting for the water boy. Who is actually probably going to be a 40 year old man with 50 jugs of water strapped to his bicycles.
Anyway, since I have so much time on my hands, I've decided to design some merchandise for MSGFX:
These are US$21,US$25, and US$23 respectfully. If you order in bulk I can give you a cheaper price. I'm not sure how they turn out because I can't afford one.
Here are the graphics, I can also put these on stickers, underwear, hats, sweatshirts, etc. Let me know if you're interested:
This is the basic logo on a powerbook and safari.
These characters mean 'small handed robot'.
The left side down means 'small handed robot'. The four across is an idiom that means 'people everywhere', literally 'man mountain, man sea'. The four down is another idiom meaning 'At the end of one's rope/resources'. The two on the right are the characters for Shanghai.
These can also be viewed on my flickr site MSG Merchandise Set.
I accept pay pal if you're interested. Please email me with any enquiries.
It's not that we're posh and we feel the need to drink only from a water cooler, but the tap water here is undrinkable, so everyone has a water cooler. We could boil our own water - which I did in Lin'an - but that just sucks. So anyway, I'm stuck here waiting for the water boy. Who is actually probably going to be a 40 year old man with 50 jugs of water strapped to his bicycles.
Anyway, since I have so much time on my hands, I've decided to design some merchandise for MSGFX:
These are US$21,US$25, and US$23 respectfully. If you order in bulk I can give you a cheaper price. I'm not sure how they turn out because I can't afford one.
Here are the graphics, I can also put these on stickers, underwear, hats, sweatshirts, etc. Let me know if you're interested:
This is the basic logo on a powerbook and safari.
These characters mean 'small handed robot'.
The left side down means 'small handed robot'. The four across is an idiom that means 'people everywhere', literally 'man mountain, man sea'. The four down is another idiom meaning 'At the end of one's rope/resources'. The two on the right are the characters for Shanghai.
These can also be viewed on my flickr site MSG Merchandise Set.
I accept pay pal if you're interested. Please email me with any enquiries.
in a valley
I've been having a pretty shitty China day. Meaning that earlier today I was swearing of everything Chinese. The language, the people, the food, the culture, the entire country.
This started with a simple task of getting a new monthly time card for one of my teaching jobs. I arrived at the building and asked the secretary. She then called three other people over who made a phone call. The person was on the phone. So I waited for about 10 minutes. Finally she came out. I asked her. She told me I should have asked the receptionist. Who did she think called her?
Anyway, the entire time I was looking at the time cards which were in the box labeled 'timecards'. I wanted to just take one, but it has to be stamped with a red chop and apparently the Chinese are the only people that can do this.
I turned to leave but couldn't walk out the door for another 5 minutes because some workmen were removing the door from its frame for some reason.
I've developed a patience for events like this, but today I couldn't stand it. For the rest of the day I just walked around getting more and more pissed off every time someone bumped into me or cut me off or something and dreaming of the day I'll leave here and how I'm never going to return or speak of China again. Sadly, this is probably not the case at all.
So I decided to stay in this evening and take it easy. I went down to my local convenience store and bought a Coke. The courtyard inside my apartment complex is usually quiet and has few people at night, and since it was a nice night I decided to sit for a bit and sip my drink.
Some guy came and sat on a bench swing across from me. He talked on his phone for a little bit and once he was off we were both silent for about 2 minutes.
"Hello?"
(Every time I Chinese person says this I ignore it. We weren't facing each other, he was just about 20 feet to my left.)
"Kiss me?"
"Fuck off."
"Hello lady, can you give me a kiss?"
(I get up at this point and start walking to my building.)
"I'd like a kiss."
"Fuck you. Do you know that English?"
"Oh. Okay."
God damn this place.
This started with a simple task of getting a new monthly time card for one of my teaching jobs. I arrived at the building and asked the secretary. She then called three other people over who made a phone call. The person was on the phone. So I waited for about 10 minutes. Finally she came out. I asked her. She told me I should have asked the receptionist. Who did she think called her?
Anyway, the entire time I was looking at the time cards which were in the box labeled 'timecards'. I wanted to just take one, but it has to be stamped with a red chop and apparently the Chinese are the only people that can do this.
I turned to leave but couldn't walk out the door for another 5 minutes because some workmen were removing the door from its frame for some reason.
I've developed a patience for events like this, but today I couldn't stand it. For the rest of the day I just walked around getting more and more pissed off every time someone bumped into me or cut me off or something and dreaming of the day I'll leave here and how I'm never going to return or speak of China again. Sadly, this is probably not the case at all.
So I decided to stay in this evening and take it easy. I went down to my local convenience store and bought a Coke. The courtyard inside my apartment complex is usually quiet and has few people at night, and since it was a nice night I decided to sit for a bit and sip my drink.
Some guy came and sat on a bench swing across from me. He talked on his phone for a little bit and once he was off we were both silent for about 2 minutes.
"Hello?"
(Every time I Chinese person says this I ignore it. We weren't facing each other, he was just about 20 feet to my left.)
"Kiss me?"
"Fuck off."
"Hello lady, can you give me a kiss?"
(I get up at this point and start walking to my building.)
"I'd like a kiss."
"Fuck you. Do you know that English?"
"Oh. Okay."
God damn this place.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
port bou
I'd like to be able to say that my entire life was planned during an acid trip in Port Bou, Spain but that's simply not true.
I had about a half an hour to kill before I had to catch my bus to work the other day. I wanted to just sit somewhere in read. But I can't do that on the street because people will shout at me, gather around me, spit at feet, and try to run me over with their bicycles. And I can't do it in a Chinese restaurant because people will shout at me, gather around me, spit at feet, and try to run me over with their bicycles. So I went to Starbucks that was nearby.
Anyway, as I was putting sugar into my tea I remembered that we'd run out of sugar at my house. So shamelessly I started scooping all the little sugar packets on the table into my bag. I figure this is one of those 20-something moments that ranks right up there with drinking a bloody mary as a vitamin supplement and determining if your clothes are wearable by smelling them.
This is different from college in that it's not that I can't afford to buy sugar, or breakfast, or laundry detergent (well maybe I can't afford breakfast sometimes but that's only because I need the bloody mary), but I'm simply too lazy to do so. I know I'll forget if I'm ever in a store and I'll never go out and buy it independently. It's not that I don't have the time, I think I wasted 3 hours today folding my post-it notes into a boingy paper thing, I just simply won't do it.
Actually I don't really have an excuse for the laundry thing since I have an ayi that comes twice a week and does it for me. If I remember to put it in the laundry bin, which I normally don't. It's just pure laziness. I have no one to blame but myself.
So I know my blog is pretty boring, but this one is just disturbing. I kind of laughed when I read the headline too. I don't think it's funny any more.
Anyway, I think I failed to mention that a Chinese guy saved my life the other day. I was walking down the street and there was a dump truck. A bunch of Chinese people started walking by it so I figured it was safe. Just as I was about to step out one of the sides swung down and some Chinese guy threw himself at me to prevent me from walking forward.
Of course, I should be happy that my life was saved but actually the entire incident annoyed me. Like, why the hell was the dump truck taking up the sidewalk. And when the guy threw himself at me he was screaming 'Hello! Hello!' the entire time. Which I find annoying at all times. And afterwards he stopped to laugh at me with all his friends. Actually if you had some kind of fucking rules and regulations regarding street safety and traffic in this supposed communist metropolis I wouldn't have been in danger in the first place. I should be laughing at you.
Anyway, I don't really feel indebted. As I believe I mentioned before, something threatens my life every time I walk out onto the street here.
I had about a half an hour to kill before I had to catch my bus to work the other day. I wanted to just sit somewhere in read. But I can't do that on the street because people will shout at me, gather around me, spit at feet, and try to run me over with their bicycles. And I can't do it in a Chinese restaurant because people will shout at me, gather around me, spit at feet, and try to run me over with their bicycles. So I went to Starbucks that was nearby.
Anyway, as I was putting sugar into my tea I remembered that we'd run out of sugar at my house. So shamelessly I started scooping all the little sugar packets on the table into my bag. I figure this is one of those 20-something moments that ranks right up there with drinking a bloody mary as a vitamin supplement and determining if your clothes are wearable by smelling them.
This is different from college in that it's not that I can't afford to buy sugar, or breakfast, or laundry detergent (well maybe I can't afford breakfast sometimes but that's only because I need the bloody mary), but I'm simply too lazy to do so. I know I'll forget if I'm ever in a store and I'll never go out and buy it independently. It's not that I don't have the time, I think I wasted 3 hours today folding my post-it notes into a boingy paper thing, I just simply won't do it.
Actually I don't really have an excuse for the laundry thing since I have an ayi that comes twice a week and does it for me. If I remember to put it in the laundry bin, which I normally don't. It's just pure laziness. I have no one to blame but myself.
So I know my blog is pretty boring, but this one is just disturbing. I kind of laughed when I read the headline too. I don't think it's funny any more.
Anyway, I think I failed to mention that a Chinese guy saved my life the other day. I was walking down the street and there was a dump truck. A bunch of Chinese people started walking by it so I figured it was safe. Just as I was about to step out one of the sides swung down and some Chinese guy threw himself at me to prevent me from walking forward.
Of course, I should be happy that my life was saved but actually the entire incident annoyed me. Like, why the hell was the dump truck taking up the sidewalk. And when the guy threw himself at me he was screaming 'Hello! Hello!' the entire time. Which I find annoying at all times. And afterwards he stopped to laugh at me with all his friends. Actually if you had some kind of fucking rules and regulations regarding street safety and traffic in this supposed communist metropolis I wouldn't have been in danger in the first place. I should be laughing at you.
Anyway, I don't really feel indebted. As I believe I mentioned before, something threatens my life every time I walk out onto the street here.
Monday, October 31, 2005
the sub
If you type the names of two cities into google you can get flight times and prices of flights. Google rules. In other technology news the bible is being released for iPod. Only 'Jesus', 'Moses', and 'Abraham' are now 'Steve Jobs', 'Pixar', and 'Macman'. Hey, I'm impressed I knew that many bible names.
I've been sick for the past 5 days. My 7th cold since I've been in China. Which sucks, because not only did I miss the Nanjing jazz festival, but I also missed the closing party for my favorite bar in Shanghai. It's actually moving location because the neighborhood claims they're too loud. It sucks because they're probably going to sell out in a more popular part of town and they're moving to a bigger space. It was a great bar though. I knew the staff and the house band and most of the regulars. They all knew my drink and that when I first arrive I always sat in the corner looking slightly pissed off and drinking until I'd get drunk enough and then I'd jump up and run around talking to everyone. They're re-opening in December at their new location. I don't know where I'm going to drink for the next month.
There was actually another kind of dive bar in the same area. It's a basement bar with graffiti on the walls and dirty Chinese bands. I've actually only been there once before and I was drunkenly spilling my drink all over myself and catching popcorn in my mouth that was thrown at me from across the bar while a bitter guy from Melbourne called me a pleb. I still resent that comment. He was in the same dirty bar I was. Maybe I'll check it out again later this week.
Anyway, I'm occasionally an on-call teacher. I would refer to myself as a freelance teacher, but that's probably taking a catch phrase to the extreme, so I'll stick with the traditional title of 'substitute teacher'. Anyway, I was called up to take over a class this Saturday and I agreed for a little extra cash despite the fact that I was sick.
It was an easy class, they were just having a halloween party. They were all dressed up in costumes - a couple mummies, some monsters, and some thieves. They were pretty pathetic costumes actually. Anyway, we played a game where you take a spoon and use it to feel one of the other students while blindfolded and guess who it is. This of course turned into a disaster with the kids mostly stabbing each other with the spoon and grabbing and jumping on each other.
After teaching kids for a while I've come to the conclusion that you can tell exactly what kind of adult a child is going to become. I know the ones that are going to be yelling hello at foreigners on the street, the ones that are going to driving directly toward me on their scooters holding down the horn the entire time, and the girls who are going to say nothing inspiring or interesting and just giggle a lot.
I was kind of a loner kid that still managed to fuck around enough to be a class clown. In seventh grade English I had a desk near the door. One class I slowly started backing my desk towards the door and then when the teacher turned to write on the board I opened the door and shuffled my desk completely into the hallway. There was a little window in the door and I sat there waving at my friends from the hallway. The teacher didn't let me back in the classroom. I also pulled the fire alarm a couple times that year and there was an incident with the boy's changing room. Also, I remember one time walking into the teacher's lounge, rubbing my eyes and head mumbling, "I just can't deal with these students any more..." as I headed for the coffee machine. I didn't make it. The teachers intercepted me and made me go back to lunch.
But I digress...
So as we were finishing the class all the students had to get up and describe their costume. The Chinese assistant teacher and I had been given feather masks to wear. She said she was a fairy princess because she wanted to marry a rich man. Thank god I was wearing my mask, because I'm sure my look of disgust was scarier then any of the masks the kids were wearing. I said I was a bird (because of the feathers) and I wanted to fly far, far away.
We finished class after that.
I've been sick for the past 5 days. My 7th cold since I've been in China. Which sucks, because not only did I miss the Nanjing jazz festival, but I also missed the closing party for my favorite bar in Shanghai. It's actually moving location because the neighborhood claims they're too loud. It sucks because they're probably going to sell out in a more popular part of town and they're moving to a bigger space. It was a great bar though. I knew the staff and the house band and most of the regulars. They all knew my drink and that when I first arrive I always sat in the corner looking slightly pissed off and drinking until I'd get drunk enough and then I'd jump up and run around talking to everyone. They're re-opening in December at their new location. I don't know where I'm going to drink for the next month.
There was actually another kind of dive bar in the same area. It's a basement bar with graffiti on the walls and dirty Chinese bands. I've actually only been there once before and I was drunkenly spilling my drink all over myself and catching popcorn in my mouth that was thrown at me from across the bar while a bitter guy from Melbourne called me a pleb. I still resent that comment. He was in the same dirty bar I was. Maybe I'll check it out again later this week.
Anyway, I'm occasionally an on-call teacher. I would refer to myself as a freelance teacher, but that's probably taking a catch phrase to the extreme, so I'll stick with the traditional title of 'substitute teacher'. Anyway, I was called up to take over a class this Saturday and I agreed for a little extra cash despite the fact that I was sick.
It was an easy class, they were just having a halloween party. They were all dressed up in costumes - a couple mummies, some monsters, and some thieves. They were pretty pathetic costumes actually. Anyway, we played a game where you take a spoon and use it to feel one of the other students while blindfolded and guess who it is. This of course turned into a disaster with the kids mostly stabbing each other with the spoon and grabbing and jumping on each other.
After teaching kids for a while I've come to the conclusion that you can tell exactly what kind of adult a child is going to become. I know the ones that are going to be yelling hello at foreigners on the street, the ones that are going to driving directly toward me on their scooters holding down the horn the entire time, and the girls who are going to say nothing inspiring or interesting and just giggle a lot.
I was kind of a loner kid that still managed to fuck around enough to be a class clown. In seventh grade English I had a desk near the door. One class I slowly started backing my desk towards the door and then when the teacher turned to write on the board I opened the door and shuffled my desk completely into the hallway. There was a little window in the door and I sat there waving at my friends from the hallway. The teacher didn't let me back in the classroom. I also pulled the fire alarm a couple times that year and there was an incident with the boy's changing room. Also, I remember one time walking into the teacher's lounge, rubbing my eyes and head mumbling, "I just can't deal with these students any more..." as I headed for the coffee machine. I didn't make it. The teachers intercepted me and made me go back to lunch.
But I digress...
So as we were finishing the class all the students had to get up and describe their costume. The Chinese assistant teacher and I had been given feather masks to wear. She said she was a fairy princess because she wanted to marry a rich man. Thank god I was wearing my mask, because I'm sure my look of disgust was scarier then any of the masks the kids were wearing. I said I was a bird (because of the feathers) and I wanted to fly far, far away.
We finished class after that.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
why doesn't the sun set?
Wow, this takes on a whole new meaning to colonial legacy:
Mr Singh will use the Official Table of Drops, published by the British Home Office in 1913, to calculate the correct length of rope for the hanging.
Mr Singh will use the Official Table of Drops, published by the British Home Office in 1913, to calculate the correct length of rope for the hanging.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
