Finale from China

Just when you thought your summer reading list was finished....
Too much went on this weekend not to write. Anytime you see a kid puke in a crowded medium of public transportation in the middle of the day, things become noteworthy!
So here we go.

Cheng came to work with me all week. And what did he do while here? The same things I do. Watch back-episodes of TV shows and surf the internet. By the way, Invictus, a movie about Mandela and embracing the culture of rugby rather than casting it aside due to its racial undertones, was very good. The new Alice In Wonderland, while visually stunning, was less than awesome itself.

Anywho, the food in my building is leaps and bound and shoots and ladders above Cheng's office food. We look forward to lunch everyday. I asked for some new work on Monday, maybe Tuesday. I received the English text for the company's website. We were asked to edit it. I forwarded the email to Cheng and within the hour I had it finished.

He didn't fill me in on his plan to actually start work after lunch. So much for carrying his weight. I'm not much concerned though because I doubt ANY of my edits ever take effect. That task was followed by 2 high school English papers. One about swimming and one about a trip to Shanghai. The Shanghai paper was pretty deplorable. Have no fear! Craig is here! There were a lot of red pen markups on the Shanghai paper. I've come to learn that the Chinese have a hard time with tenses. In the Chinese language they typically just tack on a word that connotates a past event. They also struggle with making numbers and objects agree. They would say "6 computer (liu dian nao; Leo Dee'an Now)" instead of "6 computers." I finished those up and returned to my ever important episodes of Lost, Heroes and Smallville.
Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday all meld together.

Friday- Cheng was asked to head back to the factory. It turns out they were taking him to dinner and intended for me to be there but Cheng wasn't aware of that fact until they were at the restaurant and someone noted "We are missing 2 people. Your friend (Me) and [someone far less important to my story]."

I didn't see Cheng until 11pm. I felt like my mother. I was worried sick all day about him. He didn't call to check in. I couldn't go to sleep with him out so I just stayed up all day. Not. I wandered around our area "North Star (Bei Zhen; Bay T'sun (a little tongue effect needed)" dilly-dallied in a few of the department stores, lolly-gagged around one of the malls made a pit stop at the baker

y and ended up back on the couch when the heat of the day struck.

I'm about halfway through my book, Manhunt. Did you realize that John Wilkes Booth, one of the nation's most famous and widely recognizable actors, was on the run for 12 days after the assassination, with a broken leg? Neither did I.

I am still convinced one of the cleaning ladies stole my copy of The Road. I am sure of it. It is nowhere to be found. Gone. Poof. You're welcome, whoever you are that can't read my book...You are welcome. Cheng and I played the "How was your day, Honey?" game before I saddled up to hit the hay.

Saturday we had plans to go sing karaoke at 10am, had to get some shut eye for this monstrosity.

I woke up Saturday morning to Cheng & Song sitting on the couch chumming it up. I was a little taken aback to see a visitor as I walked through the apartment in a pair of boxers and hotel slippers (not from our place).

We got ready and tagged up with a gal from the company that drove a Mazda with leather interior that DID NOT HAVE SEAT COVERS. I'm not sure if I have mentioned this but EVERY vehicle in this country has seat covers. Cotton, nylon, straw- you name it and I have seen it. Its an atrocity. As soon as Cheng and I settled into the backseat we both made a comment regarding the lack of seat covers.

This joint we we

nt to would never stand a chance in the US. I only know a handful of people that enjoy karaoke sober. The building was four stories worth of private rooms that each held a TV, computer monitors and couches. The foyer in each floor was a cafeteria with free juices. With certain packages meal tokens were included. By 11 o'clock beer was in the room.

I was expecting a room full of Chinese people attempting to sing Michael Jackson and Backstreet Boys songs. Instead it was a room full of Chinese people singing Chinese songs. Cheng and I were the ones to attempt the Backstreet Boys songs, a Clapton and a Jason Mraz song. Hey Jude and Lady Gaga's Bad Romance were sung by a few Chinamen.

We ended up staying until 3 o'clock. Karaoke is not 4 hours worth of fun in my book. These people seem to love it. There is a karaoke bar on every block, if not 2 or 3 on the same. I chipped in on one Chinese song that my Chinese teacher made us learn the words to and received a hefty round of applause for that effort. After we had too much fun there, half of us headed to a pool hall. Another activity in which I am unlearned.

We played for 3 hours. I did decide though, that with the right level of competition and talent to watch, I play up surprisingly well. I enjoyed the irony the place offered. The sign on the stair case expressly stated that this was a first class pool bar. I guess to the untrained eye, you might expect more from a first class place. However, if one truly knows first class, one knows of the torn and tattered carpeting, the blue chalk and black scuff marks on the white walls, the dilapidated chairs and ashtrays that spare no room for one more butt. We left this cave of darkness, smoke and half naked men (first class establishment, indeed) to go hunt down some dinner.

The menu- more Korean BBQ. The meat, cooked in the same manner, ranged from lamb to beef to pork. Each person in our party of 8 received approximately 2 slivers of meat so we all had main dishes as well. Fortunately for me, I had a gal in the group take my best interest to heart and order something for me. I was lucky enough to get a giant bowl of tightly wound, cold, Lo-Mein Noodles in a strange soup.

I have been pretty adventurous throughout my time here, but this is the one dish I have intentionally been avoiding. Give me the pig's blood again, please. Try eating noodles you don't want to be eating with chopsticks. Its not the most fun I've ever had. If you haven't surmised it yet, I didn't enjoy that dish and it greatly dampened my dinner experience. We made it home by about 8:30. I was showered and in bed by 9. Fell asleep reading my book and ended up getting almost 12 hours of sleep.

I woke up for church on Sunday, alone because Song spent the night again and Cheng stayed with him. (Since Song is from China, he is not allowed to attend the church we have been attending...only people with Foreign Passports can attend.) Made it to church and actually thoroughly enjoyed the band throughout. I think it might be partially due to the absence of the drums and eternally clanging cymbals. I also noticed that they typically set the drums up in front of a metal partition and I don't know heads or tails about acoustics, but I would imagine that bear metal doesn't do much to help out.

The sermon was about Luke 21, I believe, maybe 22. Referring to the elaborately adorned temple in which Jesus tells disciples that before long, will be torn down stone by stone. The sermon was a pre-apocalyptic sermon. Don't be impressed, don't be swindled, don't be tricked into believing things or panicking in the time whence all these signs are seen and not to worry about what to tell the world for God will put the words on your lips.

After, I had some lengthy conversations (Me? Lengthy conversations? And just think, these emails are only one way...) with a few people we've met here at the church. One just returned to Beijing from 3 weeks in Texas and another that spent the past weekend in Mongolia living in a yurt. I wondered through an electronics mall with a few of the cats from UC-San Diego (Mongolia-Yurt living group) on the hunt for keyboard covers for one of the girl's Macs. I ended up striking out on lunch with 2 groups. Nothing came to fruition so I said my goodbyes and caught a taxi home hoping to catch Cheng & Song to do lunch with them. Strike 3. Game over. I ended up deciding I fancied finishing up my peanut butter with a PB & Honey sandwich and OJ accompanied by 2 episodes of Heroes.

Eventually, Cheng, Song and Song's girlfriend, Xia, returned to the house. Fun little side story- one day at work last week, Xia asked Cheng on Skype "i have a question, in some american films which describe the shool life, it always says, boys or girls must have sex with someone before they enter the college, they think it's a shame thing if you still a virgin in the university, is that true?"

Cheng had a fun time trying to pawn that one off on me. I left him handle it. Have I mentioned that the American Pie movies are HUGE over here? No? The American Pie movies are HUGE over here.

Anyways, the 3 of us began a sojourn back to the Silk Market- this time using public transportation. We hopped on a bus and changed subways once. On this second train car we had a good deal of space and I had chosen to stand fairly close to the door as to lean on the wall adjacent. Song and Xia ended up drifting further into the car to a few seats. I sauntered over to be with the group and not even 2 minutes later, as we pulled into our station I turned around to head back to the door only to be cut off by the sight of a teenage kiddo tossing up his lunch onto the door and the floor. Had I remained at my initial post by the door, I would've had multi-colored shoes for sure. Someone handed the kid a package of tissues to clean himself up with but everyone else pulled a 180 and headed for the other doors.

As I write this I feel bad for the kid. At the time, however, I was in shock at how narrow of a miss this was for me. We got off the train and hit the shops. I wasn't received nearly as well this time around because I had 2 natives in tow and most of the people were fairly unreceptive. I was hunting down an all-black watch but nothing stood out, or was subtle enough, for me. I ended up picking up a few gifts for the family, Cheng found a watch and before we knew it- it was time to get back for dinner with Willy and Cheng II.

We met up with Willy & Cheng II. Willy took us to a real neat place that ties western food and Chinese food together. Lamb pizzas, spaghettis with Chinese seafood flair, roasted duck leg, Hawaiian pizza (which I think lacked Chinese influence, but Japanese on the other hand... Bad joke, nevermind). The food was absolutely delicious and the place lined with "Mr. Mao" propaganda, Lonely Planet travel books and travel & drinking slogans. The restaurant is in a part of Old Beijing that are old homes converted to commercial establishments. Similar to an Old West type drag where all the buildings are side by side and open up onto the street. It was a real neat area.

After dinner we headed to a circular rode that was lined with bars and pubs. Each of which had some form of live musical entertainment going. Sitting inside one was too loud, but sitting outside you had to listen to 3 or 4 different musical sets (all probably in Chinese). Our place was pretty chic and we entered to see a Chinese band playing some light rock music. An intermission ensued and during this break we watched a woman in black pants and a black sequin (sp?) tube top spin her way around a pole. I, very quizzically, looked at Willy (a middle aged, married man with 2 kids) and wondered where he had brought us. He said he hadn't been here in 2 years but that it wasn't going to turn into what Cheng 1 & I were assuming it might. The band came back on, sang a few Chinese love songs, butchered an Avril Lavigne song and sang another Chinese song followed by a cover of MJ's Beat It.

I loved every second of it. Willy, who later confessed to not even liking Michael Jackson, knew the words. The band played their hearts out and went on another intermission. This intermission involved 2 woman in bathing suit like costumes spinning around poles. I, again, looked at Willy and before he would let the sweat bead on his forehead and allow any patterns to form, ushered us out. We walked once around the street, which ran around a big pond, took a few green laser pointer beams to the eyes and caught a taxi home.

Here I am, on Monday, in the office again. I had hoped to be done with this but I was asked to come have lunch with the Investor Relations dept. I don't even know who is in the IR dept, I thought it only consisted of Rachel. Tonight we are having dinner with the Big Boss immediately after work, so I am currently embattled as to whether I should stick around all afternoon or just head home and come back.

Unless something completely outlandish, extreme, unbelievable or unfathomable occurs tomorrow, this is the final installment of this series. Once again, I greatly appreciate the time you've spent in allowing me to stay tied to the Western world, keeping me from losing my mind.

Over and out.

Craig

The Great Wall

I have begun to count down the days. I have 9 left, as a matter of fact.

The weekdays fade into obscurity as I look to the weekends to shake things up and even beyond them to my return home.

This past week that Cheng jammed a q-tip a little too deep into his ear. We were watching a movie, getting ready to call it a day and all the sudden he bolted into his bedroom not to be seen again. When I awoke in the morning I found him walking around the apartment far later than usual. When I inquired as to what was the matter he picked up an ear plug (which he frequently wears while sleeping) and it was lined with blood. He said the previous night he had the q-tip in his left ear while he was doing something else. He abruptly turned his head into the nearby wall, driving the q-tip into his ear. Followed by a tremendous headache he took some Advil and went to bed. He woke up to discover the blood on the ear plug and began swabbing the ear for more blood. He had no way of notifying his parents (he leaves his computer, therefore Skype, at work). I told him to text Rachel (because I can't) and tell her I was going to stick around long enough for Cheng to get situated. Long story short, she told me to take the day if Cheng needed me... So I did. He's fine. Blood never ran from his ear and once he quit poking it-- out of sight out of mind.

We tried out a new bakery in the mall near our house. It wasn't bad, but I can't say that I've ever been to an actual bakery in the US. Doughnut and kolache shops are one thing, but a bakery? I don't even know where the nearest one is. Panera Bread- if that counts. I tried an assortment of products. Attempts at a kolache, what I thought to be a blueberry jelly filled concoction- turned out it had blueberry flavored breaded inerts. I didn’t understand. End result- the bread was mostly coated in an odd tasting butter or glaze that took away from it all. I miss American food, but I don't miss it enough to continue to suffer these feeble attempts at American food.

Enough of the boring stuff:

The Great Wall. It is, well, great. I was in awe -- In awe at how many people were there -- In awe of the man-made creation. In awe of God's hand on the landscape. We went with a friend from the company. He was briefly a tour guide, but he was mostly a great resource in navigating the subways and buses to get there.

We left the house around 7 but didn't reach the wall until about 11. The bus ride took forever due to the amount of traffic heading the same direction. The section we visited was marred by vendors and stalls leading up to the wall. Also, proudly displayed over the entrance is a highly Communist/Socialist/New World Order-ist mantra, "One World, One Dream." I am immediately amused -- Too much filth and peddling going on.

Once we hit the Wall it took awhile to snap out of the avoidance maneuvers. I mentally had to separate the image of on what I was currently standing and what I had to walk through to get there. I understand it, but it is a shame that such a travesty is allowed. I don't remember such at the Grand Canyon and it’s probably for the best because I would be appalled. I was hoping to visit a less touristy section of the Wall, but this one, Badaling, is the easiest to reach. Walking the Wall had its strenuous moments. Steep pitches, clumsily placed rocks, old people and children to avoid. At first glance the handrails seem tacky, but once the need for them kicks in they suddenly become a nice addition.

I couldn’t imagine building the Wall. Much less walking up the 70 degree pitches lugging a giant stone with me. I can see how bodies ended up buried within. The view was astounding. The weather turned very favorable for us. The early morning was overwhelmingly humid but the Wall was pleasantly dry with a slight breeze. This marvel is forever long. It sprawls and crawls in every direction, over and around mountains. The pollution haze lingered around the foot of the mountains and the menacing rain clouds and grey clouds met them at the mountain caps. I wish I would've had one of those fancy-pants cameras (like the Asian tourists in America do) to better capture this sight.

Cheng & Song kept a pretty brisk pace but I made them wait on me so I could enjoy it on my own terms. We managed to fly the A&M flag and the Texas flag a few times. Each time we pulled them out everyone, Asian and not, stopped and stared. All the gazes and looks gave the impression that this was a nearly unheralded move. What do I care? I'm a Texan. Thanks & Gig 'Em.

Despite the amount of people, there was a resounding peace to being in the flourishing green mountains. This was the image of China I wanted, not the pollution ridden cities; but the rolling green landscapes that dominate the countryside. I want to go back again before we leave but I'm not sure it will come to fruition. I have a friend heading this way from S. Korea this weekend and I think some people from Cheng's office want us to get together. I'll see what I can do. I would love to get back out there and see another section of the Wall. I'm not much into hiking and climbing- but I wouldn't mind this at all. It was invigorating to be standing on one of the Seven Wonders.

From the reaction of the Chinese on the Wall you would've thought I was the 8th Wonder. I took 4 or 5 photos with the Chinese. I wasn't even the only white guy, but I was the only one in a China-man-rice field-hat. If I ever am compelled to visit China again, it will be solely for the Great Wall and the food. I don't even know that I would care to stay in the city. I strongly implore anyone that has the chance, to visit the Great Wall. Words don't describe the magnitude of this place. The Wall itself with gun-holes every 5 feet to the Posts/stations every 200 yards- it ceases to amaze. It is a shame the A&M email client only allows me to attach 8 or so pictures. I have plenty more and would love to share them if requested to do so.

Song spent the night twice. We had Korean BBQ one night. It was pretty similar to a hibachi. You sit around a table that has a burner with a glass top. A fella comes by and drops raw meat onto it and everyone gets to sit and watch it cook. I don't know why I've just determined it, but the meats here are typically pretty bland. They don't use rubs or marinates (foreshadowing). Flavors emanate from the sauces. I do miss the marinated and rubbed meats. Some of the sauce was overbearing, but without it there is nothing real special about the meat.

Luckily, we had a chilled pumpkin soup (which I thought was sweet potato at first) and I resorted to dipping my pork in it. It was delicious. We had pork (thick bacon slices), beef and the 3rd meat was a "New Orleans beef," which had dry seasoning! Once fried up it was utterly delicious and a taste for sore taste buds (I tried...). At this same joint, if you don't ask for an official receipt, they give you a free 1 liter Coke. I think it has something to do with them not having to claim taxes? Sounds like Congress would have a field day with this country. Too bad Congress is, in a roundabout way, owned by this country. I can't much wrap my mind around it. They want to be us. We have it fantastically in comparison with these people, yet they own us? I guess when a nation doesn't fully re-distribute the wealth it accumulates from the people, it has the capital for such ventures.

I digress; on the way back to the subway station, Song's girlfriend pointed out a cart with English books in it. I ended up buying one for RMB15~ $2 US. The book, retailed at $17 US is apparently a copyright infringed version. Song said paper is very cheap here so they just infringe upon the copyright laws and every ounce of order and hierarchy to bring me a $2 book.

Most of the time when Song is around I spend the time listening to his and Cheng's conversations. I understand Chinese pretty well at this point, but speaking it isn’t my strong suit. I'll usually take pop-shots to Cheng, say something of merit that Cheng will translate, or if I think I can muster a quality sentence I'll let fly. Song said I use good grammar (which I'm pretty sure I don't) and that he thinks I understand the language pretty well. I guess I'm finally hitting my stride in time to leave. Oh well.

This might prove to be my last installment of the Beijing Chronicles, depending on what goes on this weekend there might be another edition next week. We'll see. In any case, I truly appreciate ya'll making this journey with me. Your responses and comments have been greatly and graciously received. Ya'll bring me a little bit of home and the Western world. I hope ya'll have enjoyed these rather lengthy rants, raves and attempts at sharing my accounts.

Random notes and observations:

Cheng was told that wearing his favorite green hat symbolized the public announcement that his wife is cheating on him. Similar to a Scarlet Letter, I guess.

Potted cacti here are believed to absorb the radiation from the computers.

I've never seen the movie 2012, but I think it’s about the world coming to an end in some form or fashion- anyways, it seems every ounce of this population believes it. If that's the case, I'm glad I've spent all my time in school...

I tried explaining avocado/guacamole to a Chinese girl... Note that if you ever have this opportunity- skip it.

Double parking, apparently, is perfectly normal. As is driving in the bike lane and ignoring all traffic lights...

The clipper guards at the hair salons here are numbers 3, 6 and 9. Why, you ask? I'd like to know as well. The thing is, the 3 here is like a 1 back home. So what does that make the others? I obviously wasn't all that curious.

Rollerblading is huge here. HUGE. Everywhere I go there are rollerbladers. I guess they didn't get the memo that rollerblading went out in like '99.

Until next week, maybe,

Craig

P.S. If anyone has any first hand experience with San Francisco and what tasks/sights might be feasible to accomplish/see in a 6 hour layover (would have to include travel and going through security again) please let me know! I want to see some of the city and would love a few suggestions.