Two weeks ago, John and I were in a foreign bookstore again (I know, always a dangerous place to be when you’re with a bibliophile like John). Since Sue and Troy’s visit to Shanghai in early July, John had been feeling a bit disappointed about our limited travels in China. When we passed our eight-month mark at the beginning of August, we knew something had to be done: only Beijing, Suzhou, and Hangzhou were checked off our list. With renewed vigor, John searched far and wide for a new book to push us out and beyond Shanghai. [Btw, for potential China travelers: LP China is a shitty source (smug author Damien what’s-his-name SUCKS!)]. John’s latest China pick? World Heritage Sites in China– a gorgeous pictorial focusing on 28 cultural relic sites and natural landscapes in China. What the hell is “World Heritage”, you ask? The phrase certainly raised my eyebrows in skepticism. Actually, the United Nations Educational, Scientific, Cultural Organization UNESCO World Heritage program is pretty cool. Having seen so many sites in China that are mere replicas of their magnificent, ancient originals (previous governments failed to recognize and preserve their value to humanity), I only wish this international treaty calling for the preservation of cultural/natural sites was established sooner. Anyway, the book was so convincing that within days we began plotting our journey to Shandong province–home of the famed, sacred Mount Tai.

As always, the trip planning was exhausting and frustrating. So many times, I came close to calling the trip off. But opportune moments shouldn’t be wasted: SABIC canceled class (again), and it was just time to venture beyond SH. After two days on the phone checking airfares and researching transportation and lodging options, we got on the road. For the first time, we flew domestically. Luckily, many domestic flights go out of Hongqiao airport, conveniently located just 15 minutes from our apartment. Once again, John and I packed light– just one backpack per person (yes, this is worth mentioning– we’ve come a long way in that respect): check-in was a breezy 15 minutes to the gate. It’s nice not having to suffer through security measures like those in the US.

Our flight (Shandong Air) was a painless one. We arrived in Ji’nan, the capital of Shandong province in less than two hours. We hopped on a public bus (destination unknown)–the only one parked outside the small terminal. I asked a few people where precisely the bus would drop us off in the city, but no one knew or cared. Ji’nan was a bustling, dusty city. The airport was a good 40 minutes outside downtown. There was a lot of noise and construction, and I remember the ride was very bumpy. Finally, we were dumped off at some random hotel. Next, we got in a cab and headed for the train station. Across the station, we bought tickets for Tai’an, a city 80 km south and home to Mount Tai. Lonely Planet (LP) said the mini-bus was preferred over the public bus. Well, not our mini-bus. The experience was similar to our Beijing bus trip: worse in quality (they turned the AC off after 10 minutes, the vehicle had exhaust issues, and it was packed–with some people sitting on crappy stools in the aisle) but shorter in suffering. John sat in the front next to a street kid (maybe only about 7-10 years old) who rattled off to him in Chinese. I was crammed in the back row and received the least amount of air anywhere on the bus. The 90-minute ride, through what seemed like the dust bowl of China, offered disturbing glimpses of the countryside. Naked young children played in the dirt along this major road while farther down, women– dressed in their sexiest outfits–tried to coax drivers into stopping for the night. We saw fields, streams, and livestock. Herders managing their goats, sheep, or oxen; people bathing in the dirty surface waters along the road. It was bizarre.

We finally arrived in downtown Tai’an around 6:30pm. At that point, I had to call and book a hotel. Fortunately, Ctrip (the Chinese, inefficient version of Travelocity) was helpful this time and by 7pm, we were in our hotel room. After a short break, we went out on the streets again– looking for food. After wandering around, we randomly picked a place to eat. We ordered a chicken dish, which John said tasted good initially. Then, he noticed the meat texture was different– not like chicken. He stopped and we both lost our appetites. You see, a few months ago, my friend Helen emailed this file documenting a street vendor’s process of preparing a “chicken” dish starting with dead rats as the meat ingredient. Both John and me started seeing these unpleasant images, and dinner was over soon after that. On the way back to the hotel, we strolled through a night market. I was harassed by a beggar child who grabbed my shirt and just wouldn’t let go. It was not a pleasant end to the night.

The next day, John and I got up early. First stop: Dai Temple in Tai’an. Actually, it didn’t do much for me, because I was preoccupied. World Heritage site or not, I really wasn’t up for climbing Mount Tai–a 1,545-meter high mountain, ascended by many ancient emperors to worship the gods and give sacrifices. Four hours later, John and I made it to the summit. Supposedly, those who climb Mount Tai will live 100 years! We’ll see. The 10-km climb, albeit paved with stone steps the entire way, took John and me about four hours. It was exhausting. The moutain air was wonderful and we were so high up, the air was the best we’ve had over here. Still, the sun was merciless and some parts were so steep.

Strangely, vendors and little side shops lined much of the path. Their goods are all carried up manually. It is absolutely insane, especially since there’s a bus route to the halfway point and cable cars to the summit. But I guess China can afford to do inefficient, ridiculous things when there is an unlimited supply of cheap labor. John and I encountered several human beasts of burden on our ascent, and all we could do was get out of the way and stare in both shock and horror. The men ranged in age, although it’s difficult to say with certainty how old they were: manual laborers often look older than they are. They had dark tanned skin. Their bodies were slim yet very muscular, especially their calves and their necks. They carried their loads of melons, eggs, apples and such tied on each end of a 2-inch wide wooden beam. Without pads or cushions, the beams were set behind their necks on their lat muscles. Every several steps, they would switch sides, moving the weight from one lat muscle to the other. These men ascended a a slow and steady pace. Their shoes were the shittiest shoes in the world– probably just one step up from flipflops. Each step was careful and calculated. After watching these men, I stopped all my complaining immediately.

We reached the Mount Tai summit around 1pm. For 70 USD, we got a room at the Shenqi Hotel, located at the mountaintop. Our room was dark, dank, and musty with beds harder than nails and limited hot water (8-10pm), but John and I were just happy for a place to lie down. We awoke around dinnertime. Ate some mediocre foods at the hotel restaurant and then went back to bed. Got a wakeup call around 4:30 am to watch the famous Mount Tai sunrise. Unfortunately, the morning was completely foggy and there was absolutely nothing to see. Oh well, we were due for some uncooperative weather. We rode the cable car down the mountain to the halfway point. The descent to Zhong Tian Men (Middle Gate) took 10 minutes. Then, we hopped on a bus, again headed for some unknown destination in Tai’an city. From there, we cabbed over to the train station and got tickets to the port city of Qingdao.

The train ride was supposed to take 4.5 hours, according to LP. Our journey took 8. Yup, our entire Saturday was spent playing musical chairs on the train. After realizing at 5 hours that the trip was going to take an eternity, I finally caved and used the train potty. It was disgusting. Really disgusting. And I used research solid waste landfills so waste is not supposed to faze me! As the train ride went on, I witnessed people spitting on the train floor and watched the train crew’s tidy up: collect all garbage; open the tilt window; place garbage on the window; slam the window, slinging the garbage along the train tracks. Yeah, just ignore the bright sign inside the train which says NOT to throw garbage out the window. Argh!!! No wonder China has all kinds of pollution problems (including non-potable water).

Qingdao was a really cool city. The second largest port city in China (Shanghai is the first), QD is home of Tsingtao beer. The place has a totally different feel than anywhere else we’ve been in China. Historically, it was colongized by the Germans– they built the brewery. The architecture is very hodge-podge but clearly shows more western influences. There are six beaches in Qingdao and all of them are against the stunning backdrop of rocky mountains. What a refreshing change QD was: clean air, wide roads. The only downside is that QD covers a lot of area, and the only form of public transportation is bus. Plus, because of the mountains, bikes aren’t very popular. For the most part, John and I got around by cab. We went to one of the beaches– it was unexpectedly clean; the sand was dark brown; and the water was warm and clear. The beach was really crowded, but people appeared to be enjoying themselves. It was nice to see the Chinese in a different setting. There was a lot to see in QD, but unfortunately, John and I were pretty tired. We wasted a lot of time traveling from one end of the city to the other (LP really screwed us over in QD), and then today it was pouring rain. Luckily, John and I got to enjoy the beach, see the coastline, and swim some at the hotel pool (contrary to what he’s always told me, John can actually swim a little!). Today, traveling back to SH was a bit tiresome because of the heavy rains, but it’s okay. I want to take my parents to Qingdao. I think they’d like the instant gratification of having the mountains and sea so close. Plus, QD is very clean; it has a new international airport (the sailing component of the 2008 Beijing Olympics will be in QD); and the seafood is excellent. Oh, just so happens, QD was having its annual International Beer Festival this week. John and I had the good fortune of seeing the Chinese in a festival/carnival setting. That was interesting. At least John got his roasted sandwich fix. Meanwhile, I got a good look at a roasting pig.

Two weeks ago, John and I were in a foreign bookstore again (I know, always a dangerous place to be when you’re with a bibliophile like John). Since Sue and Troy’s visit to Shanghai in early July, John had been feeling a bit disappointed about our limited travels in China. When we passed our eight-month mark at the beginning of August, we knew something had to be done: only Beijing, Suzhou, and Hangzhou were checked off our list. With renewed vigor, John searched far and wide for a new book to push us out and beyond Shanghai. [Btw, for potential China travelers: LP China is a shitty source (smug author Damien what’s-his-name SUCKS!)]. John’s latest China pick? World Heritage Sites in China– a gorgeous pictorial focusing on 28 cultural relic sites and natural landscapes in China. What the hell is “World Heritage”, you ask? The phrase certainly raised my eyebrows in skepticism. Actually, the United Nations Educational, Scientific, Cultural Organization UNESCO World Heritage program is pretty cool. Having seen so many sites in China that are mere replicas of their magnificent, ancient originals (previous governments failed to recognize and preserve their value to humanity), I only wish this international treaty calling for the preservation of cultural/natural sites was established sooner. Anyway, the book was so convincing that within days we began plotting our journey to Shandong province–home of the famed, sacred Mount Tai.

As always, the trip planning was exhausting and frustrating. So many times, I came close to calling the trip off. But opportune moments shouldn’t be wasted: SABIC canceled class (again), and it was just time to venture beyond SH. After two days on the phone checking airfares and researching transportation and lodging options, we got on the road. For the first time, we flew domestically. Luckily, many domestic flights go out of Hongqiao airport, conveniently located just 15 minutes from our apartment. Once again, John and I packed light– just one backpack per person (yes, this is worth mentioning– we’ve come a long way in that respect): check-in was a breezy 15 minutes to the gate. It’s nice not having to suffer through security measures like those in the US.

Our flight (Shandong Air) was a painless one. We arrived in Ji’nan, the capital of Shandong province in less than two hours. We hopped on a public bus (destination unknown)–the only one parked outside the small terminal. I asked a few people where precisely the bus would drop us off in the city, but no one knew or cared. Ji’nan was a bustling, dusty city. The airport was a good 40 minutes outside downtown. There was a lot of noise and construction, and I remember the ride was very bumpy. Finally, we were dumped off at some random hotel. Next, we got in a cab and headed for the train station. Across the station, we bought tickets for Tai’an, a city 80 km south and home to Mount Tai. Lonely Planet (LP) said the mini-bus was preferred over the public bus. Well, not our mini-bus. The experience was similar to our Beijing bus trip: worse in quality (they turned the AC off after 10 minutes, the vehicle had exhaust issues, and it was packed–with some people sitting on crappy stools in the aisle) but shorter in suffering. John sat in the front next to a street kid (maybe only about 7-10 years old) who rattled off to him in Chinese. I was crammed in the back row and received the least amount of air anywhere on the bus. The 90-minute ride, through what seemed like the dust bowl of China, offered disturbing glimpses of the countryside. Naked young children played in the dirt along this major road while farther down, women– dressed in their sexiest outfits–tried to coax drivers into stopping for the night. We saw fields, streams, and livestock. Herders managing their goats, sheep, or oxen; people bathing in the dirty surface waters along the road. It was bizarre.

We finally arrived in downtown Tai’an around 6:30pm. At that point, I had to call and book a hotel. Fortunately, Ctrip (the Chinese, inefficient version of Travelocity) was helpful this time and by 7pm, we were in our hotel room. After a short break, we went out on the streets again– looking for food. After wandering around, we randomly picked a place to eat. We ordered a chicken dish, which John said tasted good initially. Then, he noticed the meat texture was different– not like chicken. He stopped and we both lost our appetites. You see, a few months ago, my friend Helen emailed this file documenting a street vendor’s process of preparing a “chicken” dish starting with dead rats as the meat ingredient. Both John and me started seeing these unpleasant images, and dinner was over soon after that. On the way back to the hotel, we strolled through a night market. I was harassed by a beggar child who grabbed my shirt and just wouldn’t let go. It was not a pleasant end to the night.

The next day, John and I got up early. First stop: Dai Temple in Tai’an. Actually, it didn’t do much for me, because I was preoccupied. World Heritage site or not, I really wasn’t up for climbing Mount Tai–a 1,545-meter high mountain, ascended by many ancient emperors to worship the gods and give sacrifices. Four hours later, John and I made it to the summit. Supposedly, those who climb Mount Tai will live 100 years! We’ll see. The 10-km climb, albeit paved with stone steps the entire way, took John and me about four hours. It was exhausting. The moutain air was wonderful and we were so high up, the air was the best we’ve had over here. Still, the sun was merciless and some parts were so steep.

Strangely, vendors and little side shops lined much of the path. Their goods are all carried up manually. It is absolutely insane, especially since there’s a bus route to the halfway point and cable cars to the summit. But I guess China can afford to do inefficient, ridiculous things when there is an unlimited supply of cheap labor. John and I encountered several human beasts of burden on our ascent, and all we could do was get out of the way and stare in both shock and horror. The men ranged in age, although it’s difficult to say with certainty how old they were: manual laborers often look older than they are. They had dark tanned skin. Their bodies were slim yet very muscular, especially their calves and their necks. They carried their loads of melons, eggs, apples and such tied on each end of a 2-inch wide wooden beam. Without pads or cushions, the beams were set behind their necks on their lat muscles. Every several steps, they would switch sides, moving the weight from one lat muscle to the other. These men ascended a a slow and steady pace. Their shoes were the shittiest shoes in the world– probably just one step up from flipflops. Each step was careful and calculated. After watching these men, I stopped all my complaining immediately.

We reached the Mount Tai summit around 1pm. For 70 USD, we got a room at the Shenqi Hotel, located at the mountaintop. Our room was dark, dank, and musty with beds harder than nails and limited hot water (8-10pm), but John and I were just happy for a place to lie down. We awoke around dinnertime. Ate some mediocre foods at the hotel restaurant and then went back to bed. Got a wakeup call around 4:30 am to watch the famous Mount Tai sunrise. Unfortunately, the morning was completely foggy and there was absolutely nothing to see. Oh well, we were due for some uncooperative weather. We rode the cable car down the mountain to the halfway point. The descent to Zhong Tian Men (Middle Gate) took 10 minutes. Then, we hopped on a bus, again headed for some unknown destination in Tai’an city. From there, we cabbed over to the train station and got tickets to the port city of Qingdao.

The train ride was supposed to take 4.5 hours, according to LP. Our journey took 8. Yup, our entire Saturday was spent playing musical chairs on the train. After realizing at 5 hours that the trip was going to take an eternity, I finally caved and used the train potty. It was disgusting. Really disgusting. And I used research solid waste landfills so waste is not supposed to faze me! As the train ride went on, I witnessed people spitting on the train floor and watched the train crew’s tidy up: collect all garbage; open the tilt window; place garbage on the window; slam the window, slinging the garbage along the train tracks. Yeah, just ignore the bright sign inside the train which says NOT to throw garbage out the window. Argh!!! No wonder China has all kinds of pollution problems (including non-potable water).

Qingdao was a really cool city. The second largest port city in China (Shanghai is the first), QD is home of Tsingtao beer. The place has a totally different feel than anywhere else we’ve been in China. Historically, it was colongized by the Germans– they built the brewery. The architecture is very hodge-podge but clearly shows more western influences. There are six beaches in Qingdao and all of them are against the stunning backdrop of rocky mountains. What a refreshing change QD was: clean air, wide roads. The only downside is that QD covers a lot of area, and the only form of public transportation is bus. Plus, because of the mountains, bikes aren’t very popular. For the most part, John and I got around by cab. We went to one of the beaches– it was unexpectedly clean; the sand was dark brown; and the water was warm and clear. The beach was really crowded, but people appeared to be enjoying themselves. It was nice to see the Chinese in a different setting. There was a lot to see in QD, but unfortunately, John and I were pretty tired. We wasted a lot of time traveling from one end of the city to the other (LP really screwed us over in QD), and then today it was pouring rain. Luckily, John and I got to enjoy the beach, see the coastline, and swim some at the hotel pool (contrary to what he’s always told me, John can actually swim a little!). Today, traveling back to SH was a bit tiresome because of the heavy rains, but it’s okay. I want to take my parents to Qingdao. I think they’d like the instant gratification of having the mountains and sea so close. Plus, QD is very clean; it has a new international airport (the sailing component of the 2008 Beijing Olympics will be in QD); and the seafood is excellent. Oh, just so happens, QD was having its annual International Beer Festival this week. John and I had the good fortune of seeing the Chinese in a festival/carnival setting. That was interesting. At least John got his roasted sandwich fix. Meanwhile, I got a good look at a roasting pig.

A lot’s been going on these last several days. Temps remain hotter than hell, but John and I are trying to fight it. The dogs are now getting me up between 5:15 and 5:30 every morning… I used to like waking up early, but now it’s getting a little annoying. In the end, what can you do but give in. It’s tough to ignore Remy’s breath in my face. Plus, even with my eyes shut, I can feel her sorry brown eyes staring at me. The good news is that by now, I have learned to venture out into the grasses well-protected. That means kicking the flip flops/shorts habit and opting for socks, sneakers, and long pants. The buggies don’t get me now!! My legs are bite-free. Hurray!

We recently saw “Shi Mian Mai Fu” (Ambush from All Sides), aka “House of Flying Daggers.” It’s the latest Zhang Yimou film. Admittedly, I’ve never been a big fan of Chinese movies– actually, John says I’ve never really been a big fan of anything culturally Chinese (which is true). Maybe it was the decade of forced attendence at Chinese school, or maybe it was the monotony of having Chinese food all while growing up— I dunno, but for most of my adolescent and adult life, I was really sick of Chinese stuff. Anyway, the strange thing is, I’m finally getting into Chinese things– guess that’s a good thing, considering that I’m now living here. So back to the movie: we had originally planned to see it at the Kodak Theater in downtown XuJiaHui (our subdistrict). John’s tutor Lenni (who is sorta a Ms. Know-it-all) said a matinee movie would only cost 40 yuan there. Figuring a native would know what she’s talking about, I went ahead and arranged a movie meetup with Carol and her friend. When we got there, the tickets were 60 yuan– for all movies. We bailed on the movie that day, and following further research, I located a playing at the SH Film Art Center (where the SH Film Festival is held yearly) for only 40 yuan. 60-40, doesn’t sound like a big deal, but when people are making 20 yuan/hour, it is. Anyway, the movie was awesome. A lot of the critics and chinese newspapers said the plot was really lame; John and I mostly didn’t follow the plot. Cinematically, it was incredible. I swear, anytime I see some kind of performance– be it musical, dance, theatrical, whatever– afterwards, I feel like such an untalented freak. I wanted to learn martial arts after this movie. But for now, I’m limiting my hobbies to Chinese literacy and guzheng. I gotta pace myself.

Oh, NPR’s Rob Gifford (another whitey who is fluent in Mandarin!) is doing an excellent special on China. His 14-day assignment takes him on a 3,000 mile journey across China. John and I have been listening to his series every day. Rob rocks! I’m gonna see if my buddy Korva can hook me up with this tough-as-nails dude. Hey, not everyone is willing to trek across China via bus, taxi, hitchhiking. Having had several foul experiences on board a Chinese bus, I give him mad props. Check out the map online: it’s a damn long journey.

In other news, John and I followed up our previous weekend experience (porno pool) with bowling at Sakura. Located down an stinky, dingy alley, Sakura is a 40-lane bowling facility only frequented by locals. We went around 10:30 at night. The place was surprisingly dead. Only a handful of lanes were occupied. Oh well, no complaints here. I guess what I’ve read is true: Karaoke has really swiped bowling alleys of their business.

John and I really enjoy bowling. Actually, I got John into the sport several months ago. Initially, he was so reluctant and uninterested. Now, he loves it. He’s always trying to top that all-time personal best (165?). Unfortunately, I’m a very inconsistent bowler. In fact, I’m a very inconsistent athlete. I blame it on my form (or lack thereof). I always try to use the correct form, but I never get it right. It was like that with b-ball. Oh well, I enjoying bowling, so I’m gonna keep at it. Who cares if no one wants me on their league. 🙂

OMG, yesterday John and I went to a Beijing duck restaurant. Soooo good. Yeah, in case if you need me to spell it out, poultry is now off my meat list. Without a cheap and large supply of cheese, I’m really struggling to find food that is filling. We cut the Wuster back to just twice a week, and in the summer, the dishes are kind of limited. The Chinese believe that in hot weather, you must consume “cooling” foods. So that’s just a few light veg dishes and zou (soupy rice). I am currently reconsidering my vegetarianism, which is very disturbing to me… more on this later.

Ok, John and I are having an ice cream social in our home office. Time to watch Fahrenheit 9/11. 🙂

John’s been itching for a radio… and he finally got one last week. Now instead of torturing me with his music reruns of Outkast and John Mayer, he has Chinese pop filling the room. Btw, that includes really bad Britney Spears and Mariah Carey covers. But it’s kinda cool seeing him get into the Chinese daytime chatter. Already, he’s picked up the popular advertising phrases– zui xin, zui ku, which mean the newest and coolest. Fortunately, the lack of Chinese creativity and originality results in a lot of repetition on the airwaves. John beams with excitement every time he recognizes clips of the audio. Then I get to hear the fast-paced ruckus as background noise in our office and as my bedtime lullaby. Despite its cuteness, I want that radio to die!

In other news, my laptop display is no longer showing the bright red lines. Now the damn thing just abruptly turns off in the middle of typing. It’s really kinda freaky. The wifi card light turns off, the screen goes dark, but the fan continues to run and the power lights/keyboard lights remain on. I called the local Compaq repair shop, and Mr. Zhang said it sounded like an overheating issue, especially since the temps have been really hot here lately. Okay well I never had this problem before I sent my laptop to you for repair and second, the computer is in my office– where I run the AC daily. Look like I get to contact HP online chat again. Yay!

Thinking of customer service, yesterday I went to the bank and there was this American guy with his British friend waiting in line. No wonder people in the international community hate Americans. He was a goddamn prick– loud, obnoxious, impatient. He kept complaining in English that service was slow– at a volume loud enough for everyone in the damn building to hear. Then when he got up to the window, he made his request in Chinese but when they couldn’t process his transaction, he started being an ass in English, saying shit like, “Ok. Whatever. Just give me my stuff back then. Geez. blah, blah, blah.” I should have told him to shut the hell up. I hate assholes like that. Cocky bastard.

So Cissy’s English training wrapped up for good last week. I graded her final exam and wrote a student evaluation. I actually enjoyed writing the eval– it came out pretty formal and authoritative. Yeah okay, so I got a minor power trip with these turned tables. 🙂

To celebrate the end of the Carrier assignment, John and I decided it was time for a night on the town. So many times before, we had ventured past bar/pub strips in Gubei during the day. We kept saying we had to check the places out at night. After getting all decked out, we were severely diappointed. The place was dead– on a Saturday night. After walking up and down the street looking for some signs of life, we finally caved in to the heat. Seeing a sign that read, “Free billiards upstairs”, we were sold. At least this bar had a few people inside…

As the hostess escorted us upstairs, I started feeling queesy. At first, I thought it was our ascension from AC to no AC. But then when I processed that the magazine pictures taped to the walls in the stairwell were becoming more pornographic with every step. Well as soon as we got upstairs, she switched on the lights, the fan, and the AC (no one was up there, apparently); suddenly, I was surrounded by magazine pages so unmistakeably torn from hardcore porn zines. For a few minutes, I stood there in shock. Goddamnit, porn is illegal in China! Well there was no hiding it in this place. The hostess told us to have a seat while the AC got going… she pointed to the cue sticks and brought out the triangle. We might as well have been in a Chuck E Cheese… for how nonchalant she was. I mean, didn’t she find this room offensive and degrading? I felt so disgusted and dirty… I wanted to leave but we didn’t. I don’t know why not. John, half laughing, apologized and insisted that we couldn’t have known about the room. He said we would cool off, play a few games, get some drinks, and then leave.

It was quite a surreal experience. As I grabbed the cue sticks off the rack, I was met face to face with a blonde with unnaturally and surely painfully large breasts. They were down to her waist, for chrissakes! And of course, no underwear. There were tens of images like this. I tried to think of counter-arguments– these women chose to do this, blah, blah. I was convinced by none of it. John told me to look away, but when I did, I just thought of the poor waitresses who must bring drinks/food to guys playing pool in a room like this. John tried to direct my attention to images on the opposite wall– images of an Asian woman, naked in a natural setting. He said those pictures were more artistic and appreciative of the natural (un-enlarged) female form. Those particular picturers were not pornographic, he said. In some cases, such images are artistic. Maybe. But, whatever. The pool room was definitely not a goddamn art gallery. Even if some images weren’t crotch shots or whatever, the whole place was decorated in a manner intending to objectify. I mean, the walls were plastered with women in unquestionably pornographic poses, then cars, motorcycles, and right a few “artistic” shots. Ugh. I was so annoyed. I probably shouldn’t have stayed… at least it was just John and me. I definitely would have left if others were present. And I probably would have said something to management as well. Either way, I was pissy and irritated the rest of the night.

So I went to my guzheng teacher’s home today, like I do most Thursdays…. As I rode down the alley heading home after my lesson, an old grandpa in his boxers called for me to return. Thinking maybe he needed help or something, I biked back towards the house and asked what was the matter. Can you believe it? This lil’ Yebster asked me where I got my bike. In other words, he thought I stole it from outside their home. I explained that I was there for my guzheng lessons in house number 26. This was indeed my bike, and I had parked it in front of my teacher’s house, not his. Apparently, I wasn’t so convincing. The guy went into his home and summoned a pregnant lady to confirm that my bike did not belong to their family. Sheesh. just my luck. I happen to be one of the world’s biggest goody two-shoes. Hel-lo!! Ah well. Gotta love the grandpa neighborhood watchdog!

Well I had my final class for Cissy yesterday evening. Gave her a 7-page final exam. I had her cramming Monday at lunch and all the way up to the exam at 7 pm, she said. So all that’s left now is grading the exam and writing up an evaluation. Not too bad.

Of course, I AM still out of my laptop. Argh. John and I went laptop browsing yesterday– there just isn’t much to be desired in the PC laptop market, or so John insists. Pretty much, my 3-yr old laptop has a screen better than most of the units out there (which are in the under $2k range). I just hope they can fix my Compaq. I really don’t want to go through getting another computer.

In other news, what’s up with my friends? I haven’t been getting any email for like two weeks! Come on folks. I know you’re busy, but you know working for myself has deprived me of office gossip. I need to make up for it somewhere. Drop me a line or something. Please.

We’re having lunch today with Em at La Seine, a tasty French restaurant with a yummy lunch appetizers/dessert buffet. Awww yeah. Gonna get my sweet tooth on! The other exciting thing about this meeting is Em and I are doing a trade. Nip/Tuck and Curb (which I really HATE, btw) for Six Feet Under and a Reese flick (Alabama). It’s like a book club, but with DVDs. Hee, hee. Speaking of books, have any of your checked out Book Crossing. It’s somewhat confusing but an interesting concept to follow the lives of your books. For me, I just view it as a way to get rid of extra crap clogging up the bookshelf. I’m supposed to release a few into the wild today.

You know, it’s quite entertaining living in the land of mini-peeps. Really, the average Shanghainese woman is probably a US size 4 and under 100 lbs. Last Thursday, I went to my guzheng lesson. I’ve been practicing this new string vibration technique, and it’s frustrating the shit out of me. The elbow is raised, parallel to my shoulder, and then my right wrist is supposed to rotate like I’m using a screwdriver. In turn, my thumbnail touches the string twice– once when my wrist rotates counterclockwise and once when it twists clockwise. Regardless, I just can’t get the technique right. When my teacher demoed it, she made the method look so easy. I felt like maybe there was something physically wrong with my hand. I was right. When I matched my hand with hers, my fingers were a good inch longer than hers. It was as if I had man hands. She said her hand wasn’t even considered small among her classmates. Great, I’m just a frickin’ barbarian.

I’ve had similar issues in the bra department, to be honest. Now, everyone in the States knows I don’t have a chest to brag about. But here? Ha, ha. I’m huge. It took me 30 minutes, wading through tiny lil’ bras with disproportionatly large foam cups to finally find something comfortable (no underwire, no foam cups) and in my size. Actually, it was the largest size they had– probably the equivalent of a US 36. Cracks me up. And it had super wide straps and a hefty clasp in the back– for added support I guess. And my bra only cost $1 US. Can you believe they cost $15-20 in the US?

OMG, did I tell you it was fucking HOT here? Don’t believe me? I have lived through both NC, FL, AND Taiwan summers, and I think this is the worst. And I have Sue Lee Bauerbach, a FL native to back me up. Mostly, I’ve realized that central AC makes all the difference. For example, in FL you are only exposed to the sweltering heat in the few minutes it takes to walk outside, get into your car, and crank up the AC. All buildings are cooled to refrigerator temps. I’m serious. I remember in grad school, I always wore long pants and long sleeved shirts, even during the summer. Though I certainly appreciated the instant relief crossing the temperature threshold, the rest of the day I was a frickin’ slab of meat in the fridge. So back to Shanghai… John calls our bedroom the Oasis. We climb into our netted bed, turn on the AC room unit, turn on the mini ceiling fan under our tent, zip ourselves up, and hang out by the campfire with the wild animals (Rem and Martin) pacing around outside. When we leave the oasis to use the bathroom or get something from the kitchen, we get jolted back to our senses. The rest of the house is a goddamn sauna. Yeah, maybe some people pay to relax in the sauna. Well, there ain’t no relaxing in ours. It’s as if we’re part of some insane gameshow where you have to grab the items you need and then hurry back to the safe zone or homebase. Potty, wash hands, back to the room. Shower, towel off back in the room. Grab bread, a can of peanut butter, a spoon, back to the room. I know, pathetic. But feel free to give this a try at home.

In other news, I’ve been paralyzed since Tuesday. Earlier this week, I was on my laptop. All the sudden, colors started looking funny. On the desktop, all my icons had a trail of red striations going across the screen. At three years old, my laptop has display damage. Mother fucker. I chatted online with my nemeses HP, and they sent me through the hoops– reinstalling the driver, adjusting display settings, blah, blah. Pain in my ass, those “service” people. In the end, I took it to a local Compaq repair shop. They said it’s definitely hardware and will have to send my unit in to the factory for repair. In other words, I’m out of a fucking computer for at least 4 business days. So one would think, “Ok. No big deal. Just a few days. I’m not DEPENDENT on anything. There’s no addiction problem here.” Wrong. I can’t stand being without. For one thing, I rely very heavily on my laptop for work. So here it was Wednesday, and I had my SABIC business writing class in the evening. I still had to edit pieces, write pieces… argh! I ended up waking up at 6 am to bike over to the internet bar. Yeah, so I was there with all the hardcare gamers. It wasn’t so bad though, thankfully. There were actually only a handful of people, and each station has headsets. I had a variety of issues accessing my files, which I took in on a USB thumb drive. Then there was the MS Word in Chinese issue. Fortunately, I’m a big fan of shortcut keys, so I was able to get most of the formatting/functions done. Still, the level of efficiency just wasn’t the same as with my good ‘ol laptop baby. Good news is that the class went fine. I’ll likely be heading back to the internet bar many more times this week. It costs about 2 yuan/hour = 24 cents. My ayi thought that was expensive. I didn’t tell her how much a laptop costs.

So I’m coming clean. I can’t live without my computer. No apologies though. I’m a victim of the technological revolution. So be it.

Oh, you may be wondering why I don’t use John’s computer. First, he uses it for work. Second, it’s a mac and though he always touts the cross compatibility of the two platforms, he’s wrong. It’s inadequate. And I hate macs. I’m not cool enough for them.

I picked up a local magazine today: inside was an article about Chinese parents sending their kids to the plastic surgeon “for their own good.” Here’s their rationale: In a country where the worker pool is so vast, getting the job often boils down to appearances. English is no longer a surefire way on and up the professional ladder. You not only must sound the part, but you also have to look the part, i.e. Chinese women have to possess the Western beauty features. Yes, you heard me right. Forget charges of discrimination– employers here are perfectly free to make such demands, especially for jobs that require “face time”. Image is part of the job, they say.

The obsession with Westerners’ white skin, big eyes, and tall noses is nothing new. Still, it doesn’t make the phenomenon any less disturbing. What’s shocking, however, is the growing trend among children. According to the article, parents are rewarding good grades with a trip or two to the plastic surgeon. In Guangzhou, three area hospitals report that 90 percent of plastic surgery patients are under 16, with the double eyelid surgery being the most popular. The cost can run as low as 1000 yuan or $120. And the parents just chalk it up as another investment into the child’s future: “If getting the surgery gets her a good job, maybe it’s not such a bad thing for a better life.” ARGH!! Yeah, I hate to be judgemental, but this is just too fucked up.