Friday, July 27, 2007

My second chinese haircut

My first haircut wasn't as bad as i thought. When I look back at pictures of my first ever haircut in the PRC, I realize it was a major improvement from the shoulder length hair i had pre-haircut. In fact, i look at those pictures and wonder why in the world i didn't like the haircut. It might of been the best haircut of my life. It was well-shaped, not annoying, and most importantly i wasn't balding then.

And then came Chinese Haircut 2.0

For some reason I trusted that a $3 haircut in China would be good. I mean the Chinese economy is filled with cheap high quality service. Although their manufacturing is reknowned for its flaws, low-skilled service is always of the highest grade. The cheapest restaurants open the door for you, the bakery birthday cakes are artistic masterpieces which would probably run $100 in the US but cost 20 here, and I have my bed made,trash emptied, and floor swept EVERYDAY. Labor is cheap, job competition is high, low-skill service jobs should be of the highest grade.

Thus I got my second chinese haircut and it's frighteningly bad. So bad that on some high fashion level it might be good. Enough said.


The weekend has arrived. I haven't worked out it quite while. I'm tired. Etc.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Friday, July 20, 2007

first day ballin


I went out today on my own to 东单 where they have some really nice courts. You have to pay to play there, 15 kuai. This is something I didn't really expect in China: There's no such thing as a public court. Unlike the U.S. where a town or city decides to create a court and maintain it, Beijing has nothing of the sort. Everyone either goes to places like 东单 or local colleges and universities which maintain courts of varying quality. This is a little bit surprising to me because one would expect a socialist country to provide more public sites of recreation, yet it is the U.S. that is doing so.

There's two things I think are interesting from this.

1) Beijing and China are still in the midst of economic development. While the American economy has already has the luxury of excessive profit. (Not that this profit is equally distributed.)

2) Beijing does provide things that U.S. doesn't. For example, I was walking around the other night and saw a giant ballroom dance class taking place on the sidewalk. From what I could tell it was totally free. There was one teacher telling people what to do on a loud speaker while the music played. I assume it was a public event. Which indicates that perhaps China and the U.S. are emphasizing different forms of physical recreation. What is interesting is what these forms of recreation reinforce, how do their "embodied pedagogies" differ? Basketball vs. instructed ballroom dancing. I'll leave you to speculate.

(Who decides these things?)

看菜吃饭, 量体裁衣 - kan4 cai4 chi1 fan4, liang2 ti3 cai2 yi1 - fit the appetite to the dishes, and fit the cloth to the figure

Thursday, July 19, 2007

I now believe in magic

I now believe in magic. Today has been a day of hardship, ups, downs, and some more downs, but I'm now up at 1130 pm and excited to be on my own for the weekend.

We had our midterms today which consisted of a written 2.5 test and two oral reports, one in front of our class and one in front of two scrutinizing teachers. And most of the kids here have gone on a trip to either Datong or Luoyang with ACC but I chose to stay here in Beijing to start my documentary project and really just to get some time to chill. I hate traveling with a bunch of people, having a tight schedule, and walking around Buddhist temples. One, two temples and you've seen 'em all. But to the magic...

I experienced two cases of undeniable magic today. If the first bores you skip to the second.

First off, I lost my wallet. In magic terms it literally disappeared. I know i had it last night, I never left the dorm, and today after the midterm it was -poof!- gone. I've searched everywhere-nothing. I don't really have any idea how I could've lost it, and I don't think it was stolen because this building is pretty secure, thus- magic. And I'm also left without credit card, bank card, gym card, my 100 yuan cell phone card, and probably a lot of other stuff. I'm surprisingly unconcerned about it. I have enough money in the safe in my room to last three or four weeks, and it's one less thing to hold when I go out. I sucks I don't have a bank card, but now I have to really be a traveler and ration my lifestyle. (Don't worry mom, I know you're the only one who reads this blog, I am currently hyperbolizing, I have enough money.)

Second case of magic, I was just down in ACC's recently opened computer lab (which is much nicer than I thought it'd be) trying to print out a sign to inform the other residents that I have lost my wallet and if they happen to see it floating around they should pick it up. But the printer was jammed so I fiddled with it, gave it a couple whacks, and all of a sudden it started printing... a lot of pages. And my jaw dropped as I looked at the first page: "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows". In my hands were the first few chapters of the most anticipated book on the planet. I was one of a few to lay my eyes on it. It was as if the wizards and witches were contacting me. I half expected an invitation to Hogwarts to come flying out of the machine.

Of course, I really would of believed this was magic if I hadn't read earlier that the seventh Harry Potter book had been leaked on the internet, but still the fact that it just popped out like that was pretty cool. Somebody else must have tried to print it but the printer was broken. So now I have maybe the first fourth of the book sitting on my bed. I'm not sure what to do with it. It's really cool that I have a chance to read it when most of the world still drools in anticipation, but it kinda ruins the experience, no? I mean it's not the same as cracking open a fresh hardcover. But is there really such a experience in China anyway? I probably won't read it. No time.

Lets hope a little more magic brings my wallet back.


金屋藏娇 - jin1 wu1 cang2 jiao1 - all that glitters is not gold

Saturday, July 14, 2007

tea time



there are times in life when you step back from the situation you're in and see it as if it were a week, a month, a year, or a decade ago. it is in such a moment that i found myself sitting among 7-8 early-thirties women in a hotel room that had been converted into a makeshift classroom pouring tea. as i sat listening to the teacher discuss the characteristics of pu'er tea, i realized how weird it was that i was sitting here. not china, but here.

it started the first week of classes. ACC has about 30 teachers for 3rd year students. thus, everyday during our 1-on-1 class with a teacher we have a new teacher to work with. my first day i was with zhu laoshi. probably the nicest, most gentle, and attractive teacher at ACC. i was lucky to have her as my first 1-1 teacher. i was nervous and perspirating. she offered me a kleenex to wipe off my sweat and told me to "forget the word, nervous". the class was good. later that day there was a reception for the students and teachers to get to know each other. i saw zhu laoshi there, and we began to talk along with my roommate. she kept telling my roommate how good of a student i was and how i had a knack for correcting my own mistakes. honestly, i've never had a teacher be as enthusiastic yet gentle. she must be related to mother nature.

i blushed my way through the conversation, and eventually got to some good old talk. i told her how i always drank coffee in the states, but now that i was in china and coffee (good coffee) is quite expensive by chinese standards, i was gonna do as the romans do, and drink tea. i used the word "pin" tea (something i learned in my pomona chinese class) instead of using the word "he" (drink) tea. i explained i wanted to understand good "pin cha" which rather than "drink tea" translates better to "taste tea." much how wine connissuers "taste wine."

thus, about a week later, zhu laoshi approached me with various ideas about tea. (honestly, the teachers here really do go above and beyond, they work outside of class and really take what we say to heart). she gave me a sheet of paper with a number on it and explained that it was a class on tea. of course, i just wanted to drink tea like i drink coffee: heat, drink, chill. but out of respect for all her efforts (she had already contacted the place, let them know that a foreigner might call, and even got them to give me the first class for free) i told her i'd call.

after calling, i managed to write down the address after a long discussion about exactly which characters she meant. this is always a problem if on the phone b/c there about 100 characters for one sound. and because my vocab isn't very extensive it's kind of hard to explain which ones. anyway, i got it all settled: saturday, 130-330.


today, i woke up to a phone call from the my tea teacher ensuring i would be coming. i yawned, and asked who it was about five times, and hung up. i saw it as a good experience. practice chinese. learn something about the ancient tradition of tea. and learn a cool talent. i got to the address provided, and had no idea where i was. in front of me was a hotel that was under renovation. i called again to make sure i was in the right place, and was told to go up to the 6th floor.

so i hesistantly entered the hotel, whose interior looked much better than the exterior. on the 6th floor i walked around the hotel hallway until i found the room. inside, the room had been converted into a semi-classroom with a table. on the table was a pile of various hard-packed tea. and around the table were a bunch of chinese women staring at me as i walked in 10 minutes late. and i joined the circle.

the class was interesting but not something i was looking for. i was surprised at how much i understood, but i also realized i was out of place. it was as if i had joined a sewing circle or something. a 20-year-old male just stood out, no matter what. it didn't help that i was a foreigner. but they were all nice, and i learned the art of pouring green tea although i can't remember it now. i chatted it up with the woman next to me who worked in LA for a year with China Press, and she explained how i could get tickets for the olympics next year. i gave her my email, if she had any job openings. the teacher was really nice and spoke extremely clearly. i'm not sure if it was because i was there or if she always like that. and she really didn't mind that i said i wasn't coming back.

but in the midst of this sewing circle of two mothers of under-1-year-olds and others in their early thirties, i suddenly saw where i was for what it was. i was talking with a generation that i don't usually interact with and never really have before. they were the generation between my parents and me, they rarely cross paths with me. when i was high school they had graduated from college. when i was in college they were starting their first real job or traveling the world. i had no reason to talk to them. but here i was talking to women in that generation wondering why exactly they were here and why exactly i was here. were they housewives of rich chinese business men with nothing better to do on a saturday than go to a snobby tea tasting class or simply interested or were they learning a skill important to their lives. i was there to explore, to push myself. it was that i was specifically in china that mattered. any place that you're in you can find a environment of familiar comfort. here, it is my dorm, my room. but the knowledge that i am in china forces me to challenge myself. there is an expectation that i must experience the new, that i shouldn't be comfortable all the time, that this is a period of challenge. and thus i seek out new situations.

back home i could easily seek out a new situation to challenge myself, to help me learn, to grow. i could volunteer at a nursing home, walk around a new neighborhood, or just talk to the guy next to me on the subway. but that's home. there's no pressure to push myself. but china, reminds me that i need to explore. the dorm is nice, the colleges area is very modern. but there is so much more. the fun is in the exploration not the comfort.

so as i sat, with my these career-budding mothers sipping tea and pondering what in the world i was doing. needless to say, immediately after the class i ran to starbucks for a cup of coffee.


搔首踟蹰- to scratch one's head in great perplexity

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

more on names

we have to use all chinese all the time here. no exceptions. (besides talking to our beloved ones in the states) but aside from that, there are no exceptions. at least once a week we get a reminder in our mailbox restating why exactly ACC is the program that it is and that when we choose to go to ACC we knew what we were getting into. yesterday we received a letter from two anonymous students who had transgressed their english vows and they reiterated the party lines and encouraged us to continue upholding our part despite their transgressions. ;-)

it's intense to say the least. some words are permittable if the situation is dire enough: "youtube" (facebook is now 脸书), "USB port", "Morgan Stanley 公司," my friend back home named "Alice".

beyond these deaf-eared transgressions, it's all chinese. including our names. this present a bit of a problem for many of us. unlike the liberal arts education of my past, we don't play icebreaker name games at the beginning of each class, in fact our classes change every week. what is more, chinese names are much harder to remember than "Tim" or even "Anastasia". I know maybe 8 people's names (the easy ones plus my roommate's) The rest we've taken to using more mneumonic-friendly nomenclature. the guy down the hall from paris is called "french person" (法国人), my roomate's orginal name was too hard for him to remember how to write so after considering naming himself 1,2,3 (一二三) he changed it to "kelin" which about equals "colin". my name always causes problematics because it really has nothing to do with my english name like most people's, thus i've been renamed "Wang" (王) or "Mr. Wang" (王先生).

it's the little things that make this an experience i suppose.



useful phrase for Americans in china talking about politics, or anything really:
自己打自己的脸 - one hits one's own face - i.e. hypocritical

Friday, July 6, 2007

名字

what's in a name?

王勤辉
David Wang
DWang
Dizzy D
老外 “lao wai"- a somewhat derogatory for a foreigner.

today i learned about my name. it's odd how some things that seem so simple are usually the ones that you have never really looked at. people says they know thing "like the back of their hand." but do i really know what the back of my hand looks like?

and maybe it's just me. for some, it's all bull. why analyze your name? it's part of life and they understand how their name should work and how does work. it's natural. but, unfortunately, i'm not one of those people. it amazes me when today, i was told by the chinese college friend that ACC provides for us if we so desire, that my name (勤辉 qinhui) sounds chinese, but it's the kind of name kids laugh at now. it means "hardworking and successful." imagine sitting in class in high school and the teacher calling out a name like that. that kid's got a lot of pressure coming both in the form of expectations and contempt from the less brilliantly named kids. chinese names are different in that they have an immediate meaning. for example, "david" carries with it certain connotations, Jewish being the most prominent, but how many people know what it means from looking at the letters. (It means "beloved" by the way.) but the characters that make up chinese name have an obvious use and meaning in the current language. naming in chinese take a lot more creativity than english, if you want a good name.

my language partner described how nobody wants to share a name with anyone (out of the billion people here). she doesn't want to copy a celebrity's name. she wants to give here a unique name. her name was so unique that one of the characters wasn't in the normal computer dictionary.

anyway, my name isn't as cool as i thought it was. when i tell chinese people my name and they look at me and ask me why i have a chinese name, is their surprise filled with humor and shock? aiya, funny how the meanings my chinese name contains makes me proud but only because it was in a language i didn't understand that seemed exotic and special. but i'm still proud of it. i've always thought about naming my kids something new and unusual. not "glory" or "hardworking" but something cool and with meaning.

but the next name is filled with uncertainty: 老外 "lao wai." (foreigner but also historically used to describe barbarian invaders). my roommate and i played basketball with a bunch of chinese outside for a couple hours. our team one pretty much every game, and we developed a decent audience. but they kept laughing and saying "lao wai.... 什么的什么的" but i couldn't understand. it's tough not knowing the labels given to you.

on one hand it distances you from the labels and gives you a chance to realize that the meaning of a name is hollow. david, qinhui, laowai, each one is different, but i'm still me. playing basketball, i knew they were talking about me and laughing but i couldn't understand what, and so i didn't care. i wish it all of life could be like that. you hear your name but just don't care, just don't understand that it means any thing more than indication of a certain person.

Bei Hai Park

Sunday, July 1, 2007