August 2007            

More observations from China that require no further explanation
Posted Thursday, August 30, 2007 @ 04:54 PM

The car horn in China is used more frequently to communicate "I'm going to pass you on the left" or "I'm not going to let you merge" than "What the hell are you doing you stupid jerk." When we first arrived, it confused me, as often it seemed that the driver was honking at nothing at all (with no cars ahead of him in the lane, and seemingly nothing weird happening around him). The Chinese driver always drives with one hand on the horn.

Headlights are brighter in China. Even in big cities where there are streetlights, it seems like everyone is driving around with their brights on.

During our trip, Beijing implemented (or tested?) a new driving policy: every other day, only half the cars can drive into the city, depending on whether their license plate ends in an odd or even number. This was inconvenient for us, since the car we took to the Henan province was the wrong number on the day we needed to return. We had to swap cars with a driver on our way back.

Everyone everywhere is all about the Olympics. The day after we arrived there was a huge celebration in Tienanmen Square, as it was exactly one year until the Olympics. Every day you hear countdowns on TV, radio, etc., and there are advertisements promoting clean air and discouraging littering, all for the Olympics. On the news, they discuss new driving policies which will be tested, allowing only buses, taxis, and official vehicles into the city for four days to see what it will do for the air, and how the city transit systems will hold up under added weight. Downtown there are entire city blocks, and huge areas which are being constructed just for the Olympics—housing, fancy hotels, green space. In some areas, you can see more cranes than you can skyscrapers.

Instead of paper napkins, the Chinese use what Americans think of as tissue, or Kleenex, which comes in little packets at restaurants, or wrapped in a big plastic package at home.

The Chinese don't eat chicken breast, and restaurants often discard it. It is considered too dry and stringy to be good to eat.

Women's public restrooms are essentially stalls with holes in the ground, though these holes have porcelain basins with textured places to place your feet to keep from slipping. The idea is that this is "cleaner," since you don't have to touch anything, but in actuality it smells awful (despite plumbing, flushes, etc.), you can't avoid stepping in or getting piss on your shoes, and there is rarely toilet paper or soap at any of these locations. When there are "Western toilets," whether in homes or nice restaurants, they usually don't flush very well.

Back to the States, back to school, but more importantly, back from China
Posted Monday, August 27, 2007 @ 08:48 PM

I've been back in the U.S. for a week now, and at school for almost as long. My floor is decidedly less cluttered than when I first arrived, but things still aren't in their right place. There is a stack of dishes to be done, and a load of dirty laundry. I finally got sheets put on my bed, so I'm no longer sleeping on a bare mattress and naked pillows, but that gives you an idea (as I'm always saying) of "the state of things." Classes haven't really heated up yet, but I have many many text books coming in the mail. I suspect once they arrive I will have more trouble finding time for things, as most of my classes this semester involve a lot of reading and discussion.

But you're probably not here because of your interest in school.

CHINA, CHINA!

Here are some goodies—the first installment of what we shall call "Observations That Require No Further Explanation." More of these to come.

Rolls of toilet paper have no cardboard cylindrical insert in the center, just toilet paper through and through. This seems much more efficient, less wasteful.

Everywhere in Beijing there are small courtyards which look like brightly-colored playgrounds. Actually, this is public exercise equipment, used every day in "morning exercise" or "zao chen lian" by primarily the elderly. It's not uncommon to see a courtyard full elderly, coordinated in movement through tai qi, with or without swords. Every time we pass, I still have trouble not comparing the scene to American playgrounds, full of children.

Groceries in Beijing are cheap by American standards. A trunk full of groceries which in the US would cost $100-200, in Beijing only costs about $30, or 220 yen.

The juice selection in China is delicious and incredible. While they don't have things like Ocean Spray with fifty flavors of cranberry juice, they have delicious nectars like mango, peach, apple, pear, or tomato. Peach is what seems most unusual and delicious, as it really tastes like peaches, but isn't too sweet and doesn't taste artificial. All the juices/nectars are thicker than most juices you can buy in America.

Missy's family debated the color of my hair. She says that in Chinese, they have a word, "gold," that they use similarly for redheads and blondes, but the only way it translates to English is "blonde."

I've begun uploading photos from the trip (I'm shooting for five new photos uploaded per day), so head on over to flickr and have a look.

Comments (1)

In Beijing
Posted Saturday, August 04, 2007 @ 01:19 AM

I would say that packing has been a breeze, and certainly the suitcase bit has been. It's the boxes for school that have been the real trouble. It's sort of like packing for the trip I'm about to go on, and packing for all future trips before May 2008.

The parade of boxes in and out of my life every few months is becoming a nice punctuation. ("This is when I moved out of this place, so I know that thing happened before then. Before I moved into this place, I felt this way," etc.) Suddenly there are many more commas in my life, as far as moving goes—a period at the end of Birmingham last year, an ellipsis for Christmas break. A comma for the beginning and end of summer—an em dash for Beijing—then school again. Pretty soon the string of places I've lived with flattened boxes in the closet will form a complex, Victorian paragraph.

Aside from restructuring the sentence I'm living, the boxes are kind of a pain. Each new time I pack for somewhere I downsize. It seems absurd to take more than one box of anything anywhere—even the one suitcase, one carry-on, one purse, one pillow system of overseas travel is cumbersome. Lately I've been purging, with the help of ebay, envelopes of goodies mailed to friends, and donations, all of which I hope to continue at a feverish rate when the school year begins.

What are the packing rules you set for yourself, moving, traveling, or otherwise?

At any rate, I'm off at full-speed later this morning to Birmingham, Beijing, then Tuscaloosa. You can expect an update in late August when I've recovered from jet lag, move-in day, and my first day of class.

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