eye exercises and squat toilets: China, day 2

I suppose that every day in a new country is naturally filled with "firsts," but yesterday marked three important ones for me: my first day on campus of the school where I will be teaching, my first "conversation" in Chinese, and my first night out downtown Shenzhen (from which I am currently in recovery, because jet lag awoke me after 4 short hours of sleep).

One. My first day on campus: Steve took Sam and I to the school campus in the morning, both to the general Chinese school where Sam will be teaching an after-school English program with most of the other international teachers, and also to the International School Section (ISS), where I will be working as a real, during-the-school-day English teacher. Yikes. However, I was relieved to know I will not simply be thrown into a classroom setting mid-semester; instead, I will have a week of training and then a week of "team teaching" before I am assigned to the classes that I am the least likely to screw up.

Schools in China seem to be in some ways drastically different from the American education system I went through, so it's even crazier that I'll soon be teaching in one. I'm sure my examples will increase exponentially when I begin teaching, but here's a taste: twice a day, all classes are interrupted by music and chanted numbers blared over the school loudspeaker. The numbers represent different parts of the face to be massaged, and are used for "eye exercises" - so every Chinese student spends a chunk of time each day rubbing his/her forehead, temples, etc to improve concentration. From my perspective it all looks pretty bizarre, but I would never say so: first, because it is taken very seriously - to the point of being monitored by security guards who walk through the classrooms to make sure all students partake - and anyway, I probably should not begin my Chinese teaching career by badmouthing a brainchild of Chairman Mao.

Two. My first sentence in Putonghua ("the people's language" or Mandarin Chinese): I went to a gym located close to campus to check out the facilities. In what I will pretend was an amazing accent and smooth flow of language, I had the following conversation with the front desk clerk:

Me: How much does one month cost?
Her: 312 kuai.
Me: Thank you. Can I look around?
Her: Yes.

This very small accomplishment gave me so much pride that when using the school's language software later in the day, I chose to practice the phrases "I don't speak well" and "I speak a little Mandarin" rather than "I don't speak Chinese." (Although I did learn "I don't speak Chinese" too, just in case.)

Three. My first night in downtown Shenzhen: Actually far less exotic than it might seem. The beginning of the night was pretty typical; a group of 8 of us - out of 11 teachers total - went to a Chinese barbecue, where we sat outside, drank Tsing Tao (since the water is unsafe, it's the beverage of choice), and ate every barbecued food you could possibly imagine: corn, pork, lamb, octopus, eggplant, bread. Again, we feasted until everyone was about to burst, and paid about US$5 each.

We caught a cab to a bar downtown, where a pretty talented live rock band was playing. It was pretty amusing to hear the band switch between Chinese and American songs (e.g. Sweet Child of Mine, Welcome to the Jungle) as though they were non differentiable. But since we mostly ended up playing Foosball and pool, speaking English with each other, and sharing a mini-keg of Carlsberg, there was nothing else particularly Chinese about the experience. Except the sign outside the bathroom, I guess, which was a perfect illustration of what even the classiest public restrooms in China entail... -->
I've been appalled by American toilets ever since I learned how much water they waste with each flush, so I'm actually pretty okay with this new spread-and-squat system. And while there are generally no sinks, there is also no toilet paper, so in the end the whole system sort of works out. Hip hip hooray for hygiene!

我在中国。

So this is China!

After 3 connecting flights (Minneapolis - Chicago - San Francisco - Hong Kong) and a ferry from Hong Kong to mainland China, I am at last in my apartment in the Bao'an District of Shenzhen. It seems impossible that I landed only yesterday since I have already taken in so much; my senses have been working overtime and I am still in a bit of a jet-lagged, dreamlike state. Accept my apologies if this blog entry seems disjointed or awkward - it's 3 am Minnesota time, 4 pm China time, and for all I'm concerned it could be any hour in between.

My apartment, to be honest, was initially a bit overwhelming. The kitchen, for one thing, is separated by a glass wall and a sliding door (photo on the left), which is something I had never seen. The furniture is chipped and cracking, and the washing machine on the porch looks like it must date back the stone age and also may have previously been dropped from the balcony. I don't have the slightest inkling how to use it. However, I think the strangest thing is my shower, which is in no way separated from the rest of my bathroom (photo on the right). As Steve, the program director, pointed out, it doesn't matter - there are multiple drains in the floor, so it is fine for the shower to flood the entire bathroom. After contemplating the design, and showering in my neighbor's apartment this morning (I didn't have running water immediately upon move-in), I decided it's actually quite convenient. Mid-shower, I can walk across the bathroom with the removable shower-head, grab my toothbrush from above the sink and brush my teeth, rinse the floors and walls, and clean the entire place in seconds with a squeegee.

When I first visited France with Megan, her dad asked us, "If you didn't know you were in France, but suddenly found yourselves here, what would give you a clue that you weren't in the United States?" I remember us struggling to come up with evident differences, although I now see France and the Midwestern US as very distinct regions. However, in China every aspect of life feels foreign and exciting to me; there is no doubt I'm not in Minnesota anymore. Some examples:

• People & appearance: In France, people often guessed by my hair or clothes that I was not of French origin. Here, there is no question. I have not seen a single blonde since arriving in mainland China, and am openly gawked at by people as I walk by. I'm talking "gawked" in the truest sense of the word: mouth slightly open and eyes wide, holding the expression unwaveringly even when I return their stares. It's sort of funny now, and generally not too uncomfortable, but I'm sure when the honeymoon phase of culture shock wears off I will find it obnoxious rather than entertaining.
  
• Restaurants: So far I have eaten at a restaurant for every meal. In part, this is because I haven't yet gotten a full load of groceries; however, many of the teachers eat this way simply because it's actually cheaper than making a sandwich. For lunch I got a pile of steamed pork dumplings with spicy peanut sauce so big I could hardly finish it. The price: 3 kuai (slang for yuan), roughly $0.42. And the food is truly amazing - I have yet to try anything that I wouldn't order again, and am already getting more comfortable using chopsticks.
• Banks: I went to the bank this afternoon with Steve and another teacher, Sam, to open a Chinese bank account for direct deposit from the school. The reception area was crammed with people holding tickets, patiently waiting for their numbers to be called. I walked over to grab a number, and Steve said, "Hold on. If you take that ticket we'll be waiting a few hours." As soon as he finished his sentence, a security guard walked over and - after apologizing that the VIP room was currently occupied - brought us to the front of the line in front of a newly available teller. I couldn't help but look guiltily over my shoulder at the long queue of people. But no one seemed irritated at all. In fact, as I turned I caught one girl taking a picture of me with her cell phone! Price: 5 extra minutes in line. Exhibit: Me.
  
• Shops: First off, the signs are all in characters, leaving with me absolutely no clue at times what is sold in stores or contained in packages. I almost bought a bag of "raisins" until Sam (who studied for a summer in Beijing) gently pointed out that they were actually tiny dried, blackened shrimp. Probably doesn't go so well with Cheerios. Also, apparently in China there is a regulation that a certain number of workers must be on staff at all times based on the square footage of the store. This means that in Wal-Mart, on the floor with only household appliances, staff generally outnumbers customers by about 10:1. All in the name of reducing unemployment!
• DVDs: Buying a DVD here was an experience all in itself. When we entered the store, we were immediately taken to the back, where a bookcase was moved to reveal a hidden staircase. Upstairs were seemingly limitless piles of illegally copied DVDs, about $1 each. For just over $20, I got the complete first season of Lost (yes roomies, I will be catching up! slowly but surely) and Season 3 of the Office.
  
• Busing: Taking the bus is, of course, complicated by the fact that everything is in Chinese. However, what's just as confusing is the ticketing system. For example, this morning I boarded the bus, and a ticketing officer came to sell me a ticket. Then, at a later stop, a ticket inspector came through - not to be confused with the original ticketing officer - to check the ticket... despite the fact that he had just watched me purchase it. Again, cheers to the Chinese government for finding innovative ways to deflate unemployment!
  
• Phone service: I went to sign up for a cell phone plan (bank card + cell phone = practically a Chinese citizen) and was presented with a booklet of phone numbers to choose between. The phone numbers are priced differently, from 70 to 250+ kuai, based on how "lucky" they are. 8 is considered a lucky number, while 4, which sounds like the Chinese word for death, is a disaster. Conveniently, 4 is also my favorite number, so I got the cheapest one on the list - with four 4s.
• Construction: Shenzhen, which has blown up from a small fishing village to a city of 12 million in three decades, is constantly under construction. It is hard to find a view that doesn't encompass another high rise being built by shirtless migrant workers. And the cool part - the scaffolding on the buildings is made out of bamboo rather than metal.

I could go on but already this brainstorm has gotten a bit excessive and I don't want to scare you away on blog entry 1. Leave a comment or send an email - I'd love to hear from you. 再见我的朋友！ (Adios, amigos!)