Over lunch today, my girl friends and I were having an interesting discussion about certain behavior we have encountered in China. It posed the question, What is cultural and what is personal? Especially with things we deem inappropriate?


For instance, another teacher was telling me how she was out to dinner with some Chinese students, and while she was putting a piece of food in her mouth, one girl asked her, "Do you ever feel concerned about your weight?" As one may expect, she immediately lost her appetite and put the bite down, instantly feeling self-conscious. Another friend was at the store looking for perfume and she asked an employee for help. There was no perfume, but the lady was quick to find a bottle of acne treatment for her, as if that's what she wanted instead. I realize the lack of discretion may be a cultural thing, and I try to be as respectful as possible to such differences, but honestly, had I been in one of those two positions, I probably would've delivered a sarcastic response. I can tolerate a lot of things, but I take it veryyy personal when someone feels it's their place to point out something like that about myself without me asking ahead of time. I don't care where you're from.


Another thing I have encountered is the lack of phone etiquette. I'll admit, sometimes I screen my calls. Maybe that is considered bad etiquette as well, but alas, that's what I do when I don't feel like talking. Over the course of three days, this one girl practically exploded my phone with calls. It was a death-in-the-family frequency, but it was about me coming to English Corner. (For those not in the know, English Corner is when native speakers come to a spot on campus and are bombarded by students eager to practice their English. It's totally voluntary, and it can also get pretty overwhelming.) I knew I would be unable to attend this event but my reasons were confidential. It's easy to say, Well why didn't you just answer it and tell her you couldn't go? Truthfully, the more she called, the less I wanted to talk. I grew more and more annoyed. At lunch, Slava agreed, as people do the same thing when they call him. (I was even sitting beside him at a meal once and his phone must have rang fifteen times!) I asked if this was a cultural thing or a personal thing, and his response was that it was cultural. "But the other Chinese people in my phone don't do that," I said. He brought up a good point. The other Chinese people don't call, but when they do, they call till you pick up. I guess I have yet to encounter the others doing the same thing. What's interesting is I ran into the girl who wouldn't stop calling for three days, and she said, "I called your phone like a million times!" (yeah no shit) I told her I wouldn't be able to make it to English Corner and she says, "Oh no big deal, it doesn't matter." Well, judging by the urgency in your calling, I would've assumed it was a life or death situation. Ugh.


Moving on from the Chinese, let's talk about American culture. The guy I am seeing is Dutch, and when we first exchanged numbers, I coyly told him to call me first. He called me the next evening and we met up for drinks. "I was going to call you, and I knew I was going to call you, but I thought it was odd that you told me I have to be the one to call you first," he said. "Is that an American thing?" I told him maybe so, but it was what I was kind of used to doing. I assumed it was a normal thing all around, that people in Holland were quite possibly the same way. Apparently not. Late last night he called me, and asked me why I never call him. "I called you the other night, silly," I said sleepily. He then asked me if there was ever any other time I've called other than that. "I don't know," I said. "You always beat me to it." Then he made some comment about it all being because I'm American, like I'm following some code of ethics. The funny thing is, I've thought about it little to none, while it seems to be something he ponders frequently. Maybe that's a Dutch thing? Or maybe it's just personal?


I feel like it's really easy to hide behind your nationality, like it's an excuse for certain behavior. I'll admit, sometimes it's nice, but other times it's annoying. I believe in accepting responsibility for your own actions, regardless if they're considered inappropriate or not. The fact I don't generally call the Dutchie first is not because I'm American, it's because he really does beat me to the punch. I admit to being a bit more hardened over the years, I'm careful about making myself too readily available, and truth be told, I'm a self-respecting person. I wonder if he's used to the Chinese phone style of calling till the person picks up? Ugh, that would be such a deal-breaker if the guy I was seeing did that.


One night the Dutchie and I were having drinks and this girl at the bar was checking him out. I can't blame her, he's easy on the eyes, but it was starting to get annoying. We were trying to have a decent political conversation and from across the bar, she kept calling out, "Hello! Hello!" and we'd both look up and she stood there, grinning at him, holding her tiny glass of beer. "Cheers!" she said, motioning with her glass, sipping, all the while giving him the fuck me eyes. I didn't feel threatened by it, being that even if she were to try and spoil my situation there really couldn't be too much they could talk about because of the language barrier. One can only say "Hello" and "Cheers" enough, that would get old really quick. It was actually somewhat entertaining, especially because she appeared moderately desperate. After awhile, it started to get really annoying, because she continuously did it over and over again. At lunch, I asked Alex if that was cultural and she said it wasn't. We sure as shit don't normally do that in the States, and if someone is being like that, it's fucking rude point blank. 


Overall, dating is interesting here in China. I'm so used to American boys. I'm sure everyone is capable of playing games, regardless of where they're from, but so far there seems to be a considerable amount less as I continue to hang out with the Dutchman. I'm used to those silly games when we're confused about things and don't know what we want. But it's actually possible to be confused yet still coexist with someone without much conflict or mind-warping. The "I don't know what I want, Cool me neither" thing seems to work pretty well, rather than saying/doing two completely opposing things that totally screw with your head. Fortunately, as I've gotten older I've become a lot more perceptive in a guy's intentions so I'm not as easily fooled. I hate it when I get blind-sighted, it leaves me feeling disgruntled and disillusioned. So I try to avoid that as much as I can. 


Drawing back to the original question of what's cultural and what's personal, when is it okay to respond negatively over something that offends you? Sure, people hack up lungs and throw trash everywhere around here, I keep my mouth shut. I genuinely don't feel like it's my place to say anything. But when it insults me personally, I think it's more okay to draw a line. If it's their culture to point out flaws, then it's my culture to react negatively. I realize I may be in a different country, but one thing I refuse to lose is my self-respect, whether someone's telling me to watch what I eat or perplexed at the fact I don't usually call first. 


Alas, I'm still having fun, it's been a good ride thus far. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready to go to the guitar store. 

I think I can safely say I haven't been this happy in a long time.

Not to say I don't have my bad moments because I do, but they're just...not as bad. I never had huge issues with stress but I did have a tendency to get really down. Partially it was because I wasn't happy with myself career-wise and also because I had a lot of idle time to let my mind fester and think about shit too much.

I'm a lot busier now. I haven't had much time to keep in touch with everyone back in the States, including family, and that sucks. But I'm happy, I want everyone to know that, and I'm sorry I haven't been the best at correspondence. I imagine once the newness of China starts to wear off, I'll have more time to sit down and call or email. I certainly don't want to lose touch with anyone, and I'm grateful for your understanding.

This weekend was so much fun! Kim and I walked to the basketball court, there was a dance party going on for the students. We brought our iPods and handed them to the DJ, then jumped in the center of the court and taught them the Electric Slide and the ChaCha Slide. They circled around us, clapping fiercely. It was so much fun. I had no idea I was going to do that, but Kim insisted and I thought, Oh why not, I danced all the time in Georgia. It was RAD! After, we met up with some Russians and had some drinks. I met a cute guy from Holland, we've been hanging out. It's a different swing from American boys. Dutch guys don't seem to bullshit as much, very much more straightforward. I like it. 

My friend Megan mentioned the possibility of taking a train ride to Moscow next year. Holy radtastic, I'd be so down for that if I save up enough money. But I better pack some layers, it sure as shit won't be warm.

I need to grade...but I'll try and write more later. xoxo

This is the venue where NOTCH08 was held, prior to the crowd arriving.

This picture is kind of...Chinese maybe?

Next are shots of Nils Petter Molvaer, from Norway. He was my favorite act of the first night.

The Brit and two Swiss-German girls I met in the hostel in Sanlitun.

Me with the African, the Swiss-German and the Aussie dude. I'm horrible with names. Duibuqi!

The Zimbabwein.

Day 2 of NOTCH08. This was Lost in Hilderness, the Icelandic cellist.

The NOTCH08 Ensemble

And....the raddest Gameboy DJ in Beijing!

Distance ain't easy when some of your friends are going through pure hell.

I received some truly disturbing news today that I have not been able to shake. The best word to describe the way I feel is "helpless." And that isn't even hardly scratching the surface of how they're feeling at this point in time. I know that me being there would not fix anything, but I hate not being there to lend my shoulder. It's not the strongest of shoulders but it holds a lot. My best friend's shoulders are holding more weight than ever right now, on top of being seven months pregnant. And I'm on the other end of the globe, sending emails when my internet's too weak to support Skype. Seems like such weaksauce. I know she understands I can't be there but I have a difficult time understanding it myself.

I will try and talk about something else, although I will admit to feeling guilty about doing that.

Today's lesson was about general vs. specific words, such as professional/teacher, etc. I understood the section but couldn't quite figure out an interesting way to approach it. Then it dawned on me late last night, I would introduce my students to a game of Mad Libs.

Remember Mad Libs? They've never heard of it here. I remember being in secondary school and just loving that game. It was hilarious in the classroom, but also could be a sinfully dirty game if it was played among friends. For those of you unfamiliar with Mad Libs, it's when you have a story with specific words replaced with blanks. Underneath each blank is a general word, such as "noun," "verb," "place," "girl's name," etc. I made an example sentence for them, beginning with a boy's name. "Nico!" they yelled. I gave Nico his name and they love it, especially when I yell out, "Ni-co!" as though I was still in Mexico. There's an Aviva too, and I shout, "Aviva aviva!" and that gets them going as well. Introducing the game instantly got everyone involved.

"Give me a verb!" I said.
"Went!"
"Ran!"
"Boring!" I replied.
"Skipped!"
"SWAM!"

So it was agreed that Nico swam to Shanghai. This kind of humor, great for elementary students in the States, also satisfies twenty-year-old college students in China. I like it. I like the fact I'm not begging attention from a Blackberry, pornography, or conversations about what she put on his myspace. And if they're talking about it, I don't know it.

We played another game, quite similar to MASH. Only it was far more detailed and it didn't involve who gets married or the dozens of kids they're going to have. I narrowed the list down to the specific words for each category and made a basic sentence from it. I pretended to snore. I taught them the word "robust." Make it full, give it life. Adjectives are life's decorations, regardless if they're pretty or ugly, intense or bland. When I'm iteaching writing, I actually feel passion. Sounds pretty cheesy but honestly, it's new to me. I've always been passionate about writing but it was always personal, not something I'd shout my lungs about in front of 40 students per day. I taught them the difference between tangible and intangible words. The more you can see, touch, hear, smell and taste, the more you can sense, the more robust your story becomes. I think they got it, because we managed to turn a dull sentence of, "Nelson and Stephanie traveled by boat to Milan, where they stayed in a cabin" to:

"Nelson and Stephanie, two twenty-somethings who live in Baoding, desperately needed a vacation. As an artist, Nelson had the ability to travel whenever he wanted, so he packed his paintbrushes with black ink so he could paint at dusk. Stephanie, on the other hand, was a classical pop dancer. It was difficult for her to travel unless she had permission from her ballet instructor. However, this time she was able to leave, so she and Nelson took off for Milan on a white sailboat. When they got to their wooden cabin, they realized there was a hole in the roof, so they decided to stay in a hotel instead."

I explained how conflict drives a story and grabs a reader's attention. I remember being in college and hating that idea, seeing it as a rule that needed to be broken. Why does anyone have to be fighting? I wondered. But that's when I finally recognized that conflict comes in all shapes and sizes, especially when it's in the form of woman vs. herself.

At the end of class I collected last week's assignment. Two students did not have theirs. I will admit to being a little perturbed at that. I know there were times when I didn't do homework in school, but I couldn't help but take it a little personal. Number one, they had two weeks to do it. Number two, the assignment was my way of showing them I'm working just as hard as they are. The first assignment was for them to write me an essay about whatever they wanted, just as long as a title and quote were included. When I assigned that, I told them I would go home and do the same thing. So next week, I brought in my essay, only it was filled with punctuation errors I wanted them to fix. During the week off, I used some of my time to grade their essays, and not just filling in corrections either. For every paper, I included a short, enthusiastic note that offered words of encouragement. I definitely don't intend to do that for every assignment but felt it best for the initial grade, as a proper introduction. But today, when two students didn't have copies of my essay they were supposed to grade, it bugged me. I've decided that while I will be generous with points, I'll also be just as likely to deduct when someone's not doing their part. I know English isn't easy because Chinese isn't easy. But I'm trying, and I expect them to do the same.

On that note, I'm going to go to bed.

Bre, Pete, I'm thinking about you constantly. I love you very, very much. I may not physically be there but I'm still there, here.

Things never go as planned, I learned that fairly early in life and it still persists. Nonetheless, I had an excellent week off from teaching, free to roam and go wherever I wanted. Since there was no more availability on the trains from Shanghai for several days, I chose to stay in Beijing.

I love Beijing, a lot. I could see myself living there for an extended amount of time. A downfall of that city, however, is it is easy to get by without knowing much Chinese. Sure, this came as an advantage for me during my stay, but if I want to learn more it's best for me to stick around in Baoding. And since I've returned home, I realized the "week off" from practicing Chinese regularly was a bit detrimental in my Mandarin progress.

Regardless, I still had a good time. I made my way back to the Sanlitun hostel I value so dearly of all the hostels I've stayed at. Getting there was kind of a challenge within; I took the bus rather than the subway, and my friend texted me the wrong characters for the stop. Fortunately, I met a really nice girl whose English name was "U U," she was indeed very helpful in communicating to the woman commanding stops where I was to go. I called my friend and had the woman talk to her on the phone so it would be determined where I was going. Oh me, a noob of China.

I recognized the nearby buildings of the hostel and stood before they told me it was my stop. I thanked the woman and U U, then made my way toward the hostel, a familiar turf in the still-unfamiliar city of Beijing.

After grabbing a long-desired shower and a bite to eat, I called another friend and we met up for drinks. I thought I could drink almost anyone under the table but I was sadly mistaken. After several spins and unimportant small talk, I fell fast asleep and felt like shit the next morning. My way of celebrating the Chinese National Holiday was staying in close proximity of the hostel. I managed to grade a bunch of papers, say hello to my friend Julia I met before, and meet some other hostel residents.

The first was Jez, a Caucasian man from Zimbabwe. He was particularly cocky but okay to have conversation with. Being a tour guide, he was privileged to travel all over the globe, including North Korea. We talked about a number of things, including American politics and the skewiness of them. What became interesting to me is my initial assumption that most people outside of America considered us to be crazy, sexual war-mongers. This may be true for some, but after also meeting three Swiss women, one Australian, and an Irish man, it came to light that several's view of Americans are we are crazy religious fanatics. Here I thought everyone thought we were too liberal, but in fact it was the opposite. By typical religious standards, I would be considered "Agnostic," and if a politician said he or she was an Atheist or Agnostic person, I would most likely respect him or her more than a "Christian," not because it was aligned with my view but because it would seem more honest. Jez brought up an interesting point. Politicians could list a plethora of things that are considered unpopular opinion, but if they were to say they didn't have a strong religious conviction (other than Agostic or Atheist, etc.), their chance at office would be screwed forever. I hadn't really deeply thought about that until now.

So my beliefs about things I do not factually know about, things I was not present to witness, affect my standing in America if I were to run for office. That's a bit hypocritical since my country began by religious persecution. Whatever, my country is not perfect, nor is any other country in this world. That's not an excuse, merely an observation. Being here three weeks has allowed me to see certain things I formally did not recognize. However, someone else said something very interesting. If someone were to move abroad for a year, it is "typical" that the first six months are spent recognizing and praising the new culture they are surrounded by and noticing the flaws of their homeland, but the latter six months are spent seeing the flaws of the new country and missing home. Maybe that will be the case in a few months. I can't lie and say I haven't had several moments of missing my homeland, the United States of America.

Anyway, I had a series of interesting conversations with these people from all over the globe. After several ja-peys I excused myself and went to sleep. The next day I met up with Alex and Yusi after they arrived in Beijing, and we went to the club where Notch08 was being held. I met them outside the station where I took my first solo subway ride. I remembered it being somewhat overwhelming and claustrophobic, but this time it wasn't nearly as bad. I felt more confident and I got the job done. We went to the club around 2pm to help out and observe everything being set up. This was day one of two, and I'm very glad I was able to be present.

Beijing has an underground music scene, and some of it is a bit forbidden, which makes it all the more delightful when it's being experienced. Notch showcased Chinese and Nordic music, and fused them together in one room for a mixed crowd. I heard so many accents and languages floating around the club. French, Chinese, English, Finish, Dutch, Islandic. You name the language, I can almost guarantee it was spoken. It wasn't like some of the bars in Sanlitun that cater to gringos with a "Spring Break 2008!" vibe, this felt much more honest and real.

I particularly enjoyed how jazz was fused with electronic, experimental beats and tracks. Nils ?? (I will fill this in once I have his name right) played his horn gently over a down-tempo trance, he was so careful and precise about it. A perfectionist as well. Each time the speaker cracked he shot the room a dirty look, even stopped at one point to say, "Excuse me...we're having a, oh how do you say it in English, a 'fuck up'?" Of course the audience laughed but you could tell it was supremely chapping his ass. I can't blame him, especially if he came all the way from Finland.

We left after awhile and I headed back toward the hostel. The people I met the night before were standing in the lobby. I was preparing to just head to my room and go to sleep but they insisted I come out with them to some of the gringo bars. I reluctantly agreed to go. At the bar, they urged me to dance but I just wasn't feeling it. The music was shit. But finally, after a few Tsingtaos, I jumped on a chair and started going apeshit. I'm an all or nothing kind of girl I suppose. Then I took with the pole, not like a stripper would, but got aggressive with it like I was mad. It only made sense being that I was in jeans and chucks rather than a miniskirt.

I pulled my typical disappearing act so I could go home without anyone trying to make me stay. I quietly slipped into my room, only to receive a text message from someone asking if I was tucked in safely. Yes, I replied. Thanks.

The next day, I met Alex and Yusi for pizza. The last time we were in Beijing, Alex and Charlotte's pizza came out small and Emily and mine never arrived at all. But this time we decided to give it another shot and show up in the daytime. Wise decision. Each of us had our own vegetarian pizza, with cheese and tomatoes and onion and garlicky deliciousness. I miss pizza. I miss cooking them too.

We headed back to the second night of Notch. This time, Alex and I worked the merch table. I gotta hand it to her, Alex is good at manning shit like that. I got a little confused, especially since I couldn't pronounce half of the artists we were selling on disc. Plus it's hard for me to hear. Luckily Yusi was there to help translate in case shit was too difficult to understand. I met a guy who DJ's around Beijing. We exchanged numbers to wander around town at another time and go record shopping. He was cute.

An Islandic cellist played, called Lost in Hilderness. It was enjoyable to some degree, as I really love the cello, but I will admit that after awhile it began to sound the same. I realize that's probably one of the goals, but I crave versatility in sound. Only did she really start to get frantic toward the end of her set. I craved more melodies. But that's just me, that in no way insults her craft. I respect what she does and absolutely LOVE when artists merge classical music with modern sound. In between sets, the beginning of Mozart's Requiem played, I got so excited. I think everyone should listen to Requiem at least once. It's good for your health.

The final act was clearly the most entertaining. Once again, I'll return to this entry with the proper names to include. We will call him the Gameboy DJ. He must have had six or seven Gameboys, nudging and bobbing each of them to make the room dancy and delirious. It was fantastic. The crowd went from sitting on the floor to up on their feet, it was impossible to sit still. Fog machines went off, the lights cast crazy swirls of smoke in the air, it was electrifying. Great way to end the night.

Afterward, once again it was Sanlitun. Next time I'm in Beijing I'm taking on a different part of town.

I'm back in Baoding, had my first class today and plenty more to follow. It's getting cold here now and I don't know how to make it warmer in my room. I think the radiators won't be turned on until later in the month. I hope my southern ass can handle this upcoming winter. Since getting back from my trip I will admit to feeling pangs of homesickness. I don't really know what I would do with myself if I were to return home just yet, but I do miss people. Hopefully that will subside a bit and I can continue about my life and make the most of it. I just don't want to lose contact with the people I care about, regardless if we go a long time without talking.

I'm going to go do a lesson plan now.