Just got back from my short Christmas break. The first one I've spent with my family in five years! Didn't feel the Christmas spirit though; maybe it was from the lack of many things such as, snow, caroling, and common Christmas awareness. There were times I forgot it was Christmas. There were decorations hanging on walls, but they all seemed so ---- fake, so artificial. Still, it was nice to be at home having dinner with your own family for once.
Confusing night that it was. Culture wise of course. My brother came up with the idea of having "noche buena," which meant having dinner really late around the hours of 11pm to wait for the coming of Christmas but my dad had a different idea. When he heard about it, he thought about inviting friends and having a Christmas dinner party Chinese style ---- which was around 6-7pm. So while my brother was preparing BBQ and Bibingka cakes for about 10 people for midnight, my dad was inviting friends and their family over for 7pm!
I was caught in the middle, answering calls between them; my dad telling me who else and what time a certain person was coming and my brother asking, "WHY?!" and telling me to tell dad that noche buena was at midnight. My dad says, this is China! Hehe... Almost glad I ran out of load in my mobile then.
Overall it turned out well. There were leftovers and everyone stayed through midnight. Merry Christmas! There's actually supposed to be another party tomorrow for New Year's. Glad I don't have to be in another party. I like small friends and family gatherings, but they always turn into this big "party" which I really find awkward. Anyway... I wonder what the New Year will bring this time.
December 28, 2006
December 21, 2006
Beta R.I.P, long live Blogger
Hahaha... Was wondering why I couldn't get in my blogger account...those google people killed Beta :) hehe...
Wow! Been quite awhile since I last wrote! Been busy, and had no time to relax and write in here. Kind of missed just writing in here. So went to the Summer Palace for the third time this Saturday with a friend. Now, being a foreigner but Asian; especially having oriental features, I noticed something when I’m out in Beijing with white-western friends. I was taking my friend from England to the supermarket. He speaks absolutely no Chinese and so most of the time I was there translating for him. Sales attendants tried to listen in to out conversations, I assumed because they wanted to learn English or because they wanted to test their English level and see how much they could understand. This happened a lot in elevators, public busses, on the street while waiting for the bus; but this was the first time I was asked questions in a supermarket, and also the first time I was asked if I was learning English, when I said I wasn’t and that I was actually learning Chinese, she asked if I was a translator. I told her I wasn’t and that I was just out with my friend who just came to China.
Later that day, on the same day, we went to the Summer Palace. As we were buying drinks, the sales lady asked if I studied abroad, assuming that I learned English outside, met my “foreign” friend, and now taking my “foreign-western” friend back to “my country” to show him around. Not complaining, and there’s really nothing to complain about; just thought to mention it. Just the common annoyance of being prejudged. Could’ve been worst, once someone thought I
was my older brother’s Chinese girlfriend, talk about sic!
Wow! Been quite awhile since I last wrote! Been busy, and had no time to relax and write in here. Kind of missed just writing in here. So went to the Summer Palace for the third time this Saturday with a friend. Now, being a foreigner but Asian; especially having oriental features, I noticed something when I’m out in Beijing with white-western friends. I was taking my friend from England to the supermarket. He speaks absolutely no Chinese and so most of the time I was there translating for him. Sales attendants tried to listen in to out conversations, I assumed because they wanted to learn English or because they wanted to test their English level and see how much they could understand. This happened a lot in elevators, public busses, on the street while waiting for the bus; but this was the first time I was asked questions in a supermarket, and also the first time I was asked if I was learning English, when I said I wasn’t and that I was actually learning Chinese, she asked if I was a translator. I told her I wasn’t and that I was just out with my friend who just came to China.
Later that day, on the same day, we went to the Summer Palace. As we were buying drinks, the sales lady asked if I studied abroad, assuming that I learned English outside, met my “foreign” friend, and now taking my “foreign-western” friend back to “my country” to show him around. Not complaining, and there’s really nothing to complain about; just thought to mention it. Just the common annoyance of being prejudged. Could’ve been worst, once someone thought I
was my older brother’s Chinese girlfriend, talk about sic!
December 17, 2006
How To Improve My Chinese?
Freezing cold these days! I miss the tropical heat of South Asia. I finally called my mom to asks how she might be spending Christmas this year. Hope she comes to China. She asked about my brothers, whom I haven't heard from either, and so I told her that her guess was as good as mine. Then she asked if my little brother is finally in a class to learn Mandarin Chinese. I told her that I wasn’t sure, last I heard he wasn’t, but that was a few weeks ago. After more talk about hoping to see her come to Beijing one day, we said good-bye and hung up the phone. I was suddenly overcome with a strange feeling of guilt. This time, it wasn’t over making a call I was worried my mom wasn’t going to get, but over my own Chinese skills. After all, I’m the one in Beijing, where they “speak it right.” It’s finally happening, my fears of excess expectation, but instead of my dad, it’s coming from me.
Now that my oral Chinese is better, I get a persistent feeling of the need to improve on it, and I still keep asking myself, “how to learn Chinese?” How to study Chinese in such a way that will take me even further without having to join another Chinese language course.
I’ve heard of schools using Chinese learning software as a modern teaching technique. But which kinds of Chinese learning materials really work, and how do you know which ones work best for you? I think there are too many Chinese schools in Beijing! Not only are there Chinese learning institutions but even universities in Beijing alone offer Chinese language learning programs. Normally people choose schools they hear more about, but lately it’s becoming more evident that not all schools you hear about are great; they just happen to spend more time doing their marketing. So who and how do you know which to trust? I want to improve my Chinese, but am I better off self-studying?
Another part of me is thinking, maybe I should try to learn a different language. Like Spanish! When I told my dad about Spain and my plan, he wasn’t as excited (at all) and said that everyone is doing business in China, and that I must learn Chinese in Beijing, where they spoke the "real" Putonghua (Mandarin)! Well now, I can speak Mandarin, but I still sure can’t speak any business Chinese.
Right now, my baby brother is probably the only one in my family who hasn’t had official Chinese language training in China (like me, he had a useless one outside the country), and so my grandfather, who doesn’t speak Mandarin himself, would constantly tell him to join a Chinese language course to make him learn to speak mandarin. But my brother has actually had his own Chinese crash course lesson whenever he was out flirting and playing with the local Chinese down where we lived. I envy that he seems to be soak up the language faster than I did in the beginning.
Now that my oral Chinese is better, I get a persistent feeling of the need to improve on it, and I still keep asking myself, “how to learn Chinese?” How to study Chinese in such a way that will take me even further without having to join another Chinese language course.
I’ve heard of schools using Chinese learning software as a modern teaching technique. But which kinds of Chinese learning materials really work, and how do you know which ones work best for you? I think there are too many Chinese schools in Beijing! Not only are there Chinese learning institutions but even universities in Beijing alone offer Chinese language learning programs. Normally people choose schools they hear more about, but lately it’s becoming more evident that not all schools you hear about are great; they just happen to spend more time doing their marketing. So who and how do you know which to trust? I want to improve my Chinese, but am I better off self-studying?
Another part of me is thinking, maybe I should try to learn a different language. Like Spanish! When I told my dad about Spain and my plan, he wasn’t as excited (at all) and said that everyone is doing business in China, and that I must learn Chinese in Beijing, where they spoke the "real" Putonghua (Mandarin)! Well now, I can speak Mandarin, but I still sure can’t speak any business Chinese.
Right now, my baby brother is probably the only one in my family who hasn’t had official Chinese language training in China (like me, he had a useless one outside the country), and so my grandfather, who doesn’t speak Mandarin himself, would constantly tell him to join a Chinese language course to make him learn to speak mandarin. But my brother has actually had his own Chinese crash course lesson whenever he was out flirting and playing with the local Chinese down where we lived. I envy that he seems to be soak up the language faster than I did in the beginning.
December 12, 2006
Life of a Student
Beijing is so big that it is common to live far away from where you work or study. One reason, as I've mentioned early on, is because it’s cheaper to live as far away from the center of the city as possible. On my first year in Beijing I was living in the school dormitory, so every morning I was late to go to my Chinese classes. The first few days I was on time, but eventually that wore off, and I woke up telling myself class was just three minutes away and therefore there was no need to get up so soon. A year later, my freshmen year, we had to move to the actual school campus, which meant we had to live somewhere hopefully closer to the school. Well anything too close to school was expensive, and because my roommates and I just weren't experienced enough in Beijing to look for a good cheap place we found something far and expensive.
I wasn't in Beijing at the time, and left the work for my roommates look for a place. Being that they were Koreans and we didn't have much experience in searching a place to move into, they found a Korean agent whom they could communicate with and wouldn’t feel like they were being ripped off. We ended up living in a nice Korean residential community (that place I got locked out from) forty-five minutes by bus away from our school. We hired a driver to take us to school every morning so we didn’t risk waiting for a bus that would be late. Going home was the tiring part, I went home around seven more or less. By the time I got home, I'd be starving and tired and had to decide between eating or just going to bed. This meant going to bed around nine！
I was such a good student, hahaha… Got up each morning around six, the first one in class, stayed in school for at least ten hours, and went to sleep starving at nine! Hahaha… What made me get up each morning was knowing that the driver taking us to school would be waiting downstairs; I hate making people wait. Imagine how early he had to get up. It was good motivation in making me wake up early each morning. Miss those days...
A year later, we had to move where our department building really stood, which was back where I had my Chinese classes the previous year. My roommates decided to move into the dormitory, and I made some new friend from freshmen year who were now my new roommates. We lived in an old, about to be demolished building, (the one with the scary lady incident) a fifteen minute walk away from school. I was back to getting up late. I went home earlier, still starving sometimes, and sleeping at later hours, or sometimes barely sleeping in order to finish some project. Such is the life of a student.
I wasn't in Beijing at the time, and left the work for my roommates look for a place. Being that they were Koreans and we didn't have much experience in searching a place to move into, they found a Korean agent whom they could communicate with and wouldn’t feel like they were being ripped off. We ended up living in a nice Korean residential community (that place I got locked out from) forty-five minutes by bus away from our school. We hired a driver to take us to school every morning so we didn’t risk waiting for a bus that would be late. Going home was the tiring part, I went home around seven more or less. By the time I got home, I'd be starving and tired and had to decide between eating or just going to bed. This meant going to bed around nine！
I was such a good student, hahaha… Got up each morning around six, the first one in class, stayed in school for at least ten hours, and went to sleep starving at nine! Hahaha… What made me get up each morning was knowing that the driver taking us to school would be waiting downstairs; I hate making people wait. Imagine how early he had to get up. It was good motivation in making me wake up early each morning. Miss those days...
A year later, we had to move where our department building really stood, which was back where I had my Chinese classes the previous year. My roommates decided to move into the dormitory, and I made some new friend from freshmen year who were now my new roommates. We lived in an old, about to be demolished building, (the one with the scary lady incident) a fifteen minute walk away from school. I was back to getting up late. I went home earlier, still starving sometimes, and sleeping at later hours, or sometimes barely sleeping in order to finish some project. Such is the life of a student.
December 10, 2006
Titanic 2?
Living in China is great! Not always, and it takes some getting used to, but the perks are great. For one thing, there's the limitless abundance of pirated dvds. Movies tend to be out on dvd here before they're even out in most other Asian theatres. Not only that, but you can find almost any type of dvds here; tv series from all over the world and all types of old and rare movies you can't find anymore; somehow they accumulated and ended up here in China. Cheesy old movies, 1960's English dubbed Kung Fu fighting movies, low-budget films like “Titanic 2.” Hahaha…. Titanic 2! I want to see that movie! My friend told me about it and I thought she was joking. But she was serious, I was completely skeptic about it and kept saying how was it possible? What kind of story can they possibly come up with?! Jack's dead last I remember! Or are they replacing him, or are they just changing the whole story? She said no, it was a continuation, something about Jack coming back from the dead in present time! I was “Wah!” She continues to say that there's a trailer online if I wanted to see (I regret I didn't), and that apparently Jack's body was preserved by the icebergs that we thought killed him in the first place. So it's like “Demolition Man” and “Forever Young” put together. So Jack comes back from the dead---from the icebergs I mean, all young and handsome to see old, wrinkly Rose. I'm really curious what story they came up with! And who are the stars playing them?! Then again, is it really possible, this movie is out there somewhere? There's a trailer, but maybe there's ONLY a trailer available and nothing else? Should go search for it sometime, when I'm not so lazy.
Chinese Pirates VS. Free Online Downloads
Even better than cheap pirated dvds, is to be able to download practically anything for free over the internet. From movies to games, anything! The drawback is the chances of your computer getting a virus. Which most of my Chinese friends have encountered. I've heard them curse and buy new hard-drives (I'm not an exception) for their computers, but in the end, they’re back downloading “Prison Break.” I sound like an advertiser once again, but there comes a time when I must remind myself the beauty of being in this country. Because otherwise it's easy to focus on the vendors who try to cheat you, or just tire you out when all you really want is a pair of warm, cheap socks. Some websites are not easy to go into; I've heard stories where people have gotten calls from unknown callers telling them to stop trying to get into certain sites, scary. Also the fact that holidays you used to spend, such as Christmas, no longer exists and your family are all far away, and even friends, the foreign ones, are either not going to be here for long or have already gone away. That is why I love dvds!!!
More Appraisal of Food
What else is great about living in Beijing, and this time not necessarily the whole of China, is the food! I mentioned that before too but it’s true. It’s not just the variety of Chinese food available, but also the variety of food from all over the world. I can’t eat too much, but I sure do love to eat good food. Also the foreigners I’ve met in Beijing, you must understand and try to imagine that although Beijing is the capital of the country, it isn’t quite the most comfortable, cleanest, or the most modern place in China, which is the reason a lot of people choose to go somewhere more urban chic, like Shanghai. The people who do choose to live here, whether it’s to open business or to learn the Chinese language, I find, tend to be more into culture (obviously) and very adventurous; there are a lot more travelers than tourists. Love the foreigners who dare come to this place, they are great, we are great!!! Oh yeah~
Chinese Pirates VS. Free Online Downloads
Even better than cheap pirated dvds, is to be able to download practically anything for free over the internet. From movies to games, anything! The drawback is the chances of your computer getting a virus. Which most of my Chinese friends have encountered. I've heard them curse and buy new hard-drives (I'm not an exception) for their computers, but in the end, they’re back downloading “Prison Break.” I sound like an advertiser once again, but there comes a time when I must remind myself the beauty of being in this country. Because otherwise it's easy to focus on the vendors who try to cheat you, or just tire you out when all you really want is a pair of warm, cheap socks. Some websites are not easy to go into; I've heard stories where people have gotten calls from unknown callers telling them to stop trying to get into certain sites, scary. Also the fact that holidays you used to spend, such as Christmas, no longer exists and your family are all far away, and even friends, the foreign ones, are either not going to be here for long or have already gone away. That is why I love dvds!!!
More Appraisal of Food
What else is great about living in Beijing, and this time not necessarily the whole of China, is the food! I mentioned that before too but it’s true. It’s not just the variety of Chinese food available, but also the variety of food from all over the world. I can’t eat too much, but I sure do love to eat good food. Also the foreigners I’ve met in Beijing, you must understand and try to imagine that although Beijing is the capital of the country, it isn’t quite the most comfortable, cleanest, or the most modern place in China, which is the reason a lot of people choose to go somewhere more urban chic, like Shanghai. The people who do choose to live here, whether it’s to open business or to learn the Chinese language, I find, tend to be more into culture (obviously) and very adventurous; there are a lot more travelers than tourists. Love the foreigners who dare come to this place, they are great, we are great!!! Oh yeah~
December 6, 2006
Another SARS Moment
I think I mention before that I will tell you about the time I stupidly got locked out of my own apartment! Lol…Good times, good times… So this happened during the Sars epidemic. Those days I couldn’t even go to my own classes because the schools in Beijing were closing their gate to keep students outside (except the “xiao mai bu fu wu yuan,” the sales ladies) from getting in and “contaminating” the rest of campus civilization. Another reason was to keep people in the school from getting out, which people still did despite restrictions. These are universities in Beijing. I believe it was all of universities in China not letting students in school! But they were letting the woman who sell cake in the store go in.
During this time, schools have asked foreign students to go back home to their countries and come back when things have calmed down. Remember I was one of the few stuck-in-Beijing-SARS-survivors? Yah, so that day, my roommates were going back to Korea. It was early morning and I was helping them take their luggages downstairs to help get them into a taxi. I remember it actually crossed my mind; I was thinking, now that I’m alone, if I get locked out, there’ll be no one to open the door for me. That thought went through my head in one split second without me putting any emphasis on it, because it was something that never happened before (as all things that eventually happen are). So right after they left, I got back in the house and started cleaning. To sort of start my “new” life alone. It was a beautiful windy morning, the sun was up and shinning and everything was quiet because everyone thought they could get the disease by walking outside. I should explain first that the key we used was not just one of those typical flat keys. We had one of those complicated crossed keys; hard to copy and hard to pick. So I was wearing my house cleaning clothes, I remember my shorts were one of those boxers short types with little pink and red hearts on it. At one point I had to take the trash out, and as soon as I stepped out, a gust of wind from the hallway window swooshed my iron door shut! I stood frozen with two bags of trash, one on each hand, still a bit in denial of what just happened. Then I looked down and stared at my pocket-less outfit. S@#t!! I put the trash where I intentionally wanted them to be first and started thinking about what to do. Call the landlord and admit stupidity? No need, no phone!
Then I remembered a few months ago, when my next door neighbour couldn't get in his apartment and had asked to borrow my key. I decided not to debate how another household key was going to help me get into my apartment, nor that if it could, how dangerous that would actually mean. I knocked, or rang my neighbours door, can't remember exactly, and a different guy I didn't recognize answered the door. I told him my problem and watched his eyes laugh at my pink and red hearted boxer shorts. He says he can't help. I explain to him that last time his friend asked me for my keys to open up their place. He says their door was originally messed up and so any key would've helped. I said thanks. What now? Who should I look for? Didn't have nobody's number, and certainly didn't have a phone with me. So I held my head high and made my way down to the main front desk to ask for help. Of course they couldn't break my door down but they did have the number for somebody who opened locks; they gave me the number. I go to a nearby Chinese convenience store to use their phone (all in my “cute outfit”). I plead with the store manager if I could use his phone for free and pay him later by explaining what happened. He believed me right away for some reason and handed me the phone. I made arrangements to meet the lock picker.
I learned a lot of interesting things about lock pickers that day, except “how” to pick locks. I never knew they were really concerned about picking the right locks for the right person, because the first thing he asked me was that he needed to see my passport as soon as he opens the door to prove I really am the one staying in the apartment. Also, I might've been duped, but before he got to work, he explained the price to me, he said with the crossed styled key it was harder to pick locks and that it was going to cost me, if I remember correctly, 250rmb, or 300rmb, can't really remember. I couldn't believe it cost that much! But I had no choice, I thought maybe, I'll have him pick the lock and try to bargain with him later.
As he worked, I asked him some questions to practice my Chinese and pass the time. It turned out he made a living out of picking locks because he got to do 3-5 doors daily on an average day around Wang Jing. All my ego heard was, “yay! I'm not alone! There are people getting themselves locked out on a daily basis!” He told of certain nationalities he doesn't enjoy dealing with and the whys. We talked and talked, but those are the only ones I really remember from that talk. He did eventually open my door and it was such a feeling of pure relief! I showed him my passport (he threatened that he'll have to lock the door once again if I couldn't prove I lived in it. I thought that was cool). Oh and I paid him full (so sue me). Now tell me that wasn't an eventful morning.
During this time, schools have asked foreign students to go back home to their countries and come back when things have calmed down. Remember I was one of the few stuck-in-Beijing-SARS-survivors? Yah, so that day, my roommates were going back to Korea. It was early morning and I was helping them take their luggages downstairs to help get them into a taxi. I remember it actually crossed my mind; I was thinking, now that I’m alone, if I get locked out, there’ll be no one to open the door for me. That thought went through my head in one split second without me putting any emphasis on it, because it was something that never happened before (as all things that eventually happen are). So right after they left, I got back in the house and started cleaning. To sort of start my “new” life alone. It was a beautiful windy morning, the sun was up and shinning and everything was quiet because everyone thought they could get the disease by walking outside. I should explain first that the key we used was not just one of those typical flat keys. We had one of those complicated crossed keys; hard to copy and hard to pick. So I was wearing my house cleaning clothes, I remember my shorts were one of those boxers short types with little pink and red hearts on it. At one point I had to take the trash out, and as soon as I stepped out, a gust of wind from the hallway window swooshed my iron door shut! I stood frozen with two bags of trash, one on each hand, still a bit in denial of what just happened. Then I looked down and stared at my pocket-less outfit. S@#t!! I put the trash where I intentionally wanted them to be first and started thinking about what to do. Call the landlord and admit stupidity? No need, no phone!
Then I remembered a few months ago, when my next door neighbour couldn't get in his apartment and had asked to borrow my key. I decided not to debate how another household key was going to help me get into my apartment, nor that if it could, how dangerous that would actually mean. I knocked, or rang my neighbours door, can't remember exactly, and a different guy I didn't recognize answered the door. I told him my problem and watched his eyes laugh at my pink and red hearted boxer shorts. He says he can't help. I explain to him that last time his friend asked me for my keys to open up their place. He says their door was originally messed up and so any key would've helped. I said thanks. What now? Who should I look for? Didn't have nobody's number, and certainly didn't have a phone with me. So I held my head high and made my way down to the main front desk to ask for help. Of course they couldn't break my door down but they did have the number for somebody who opened locks; they gave me the number. I go to a nearby Chinese convenience store to use their phone (all in my “cute outfit”). I plead with the store manager if I could use his phone for free and pay him later by explaining what happened. He believed me right away for some reason and handed me the phone. I made arrangements to meet the lock picker.
I learned a lot of interesting things about lock pickers that day, except “how” to pick locks. I never knew they were really concerned about picking the right locks for the right person, because the first thing he asked me was that he needed to see my passport as soon as he opens the door to prove I really am the one staying in the apartment. Also, I might've been duped, but before he got to work, he explained the price to me, he said with the crossed styled key it was harder to pick locks and that it was going to cost me, if I remember correctly, 250rmb, or 300rmb, can't really remember. I couldn't believe it cost that much! But I had no choice, I thought maybe, I'll have him pick the lock and try to bargain with him later.
As he worked, I asked him some questions to practice my Chinese and pass the time. It turned out he made a living out of picking locks because he got to do 3-5 doors daily on an average day around Wang Jing. All my ego heard was, “yay! I'm not alone! There are people getting themselves locked out on a daily basis!” He told of certain nationalities he doesn't enjoy dealing with and the whys. We talked and talked, but those are the only ones I really remember from that talk. He did eventually open my door and it was such a feeling of pure relief! I showed him my passport (he threatened that he'll have to lock the door once again if I couldn't prove I lived in it. I thought that was cool). Oh and I paid him full (so sue me). Now tell me that wasn't an eventful morning.
December 5, 2006
The Wonderful World of Toilet Experiences in China
I find washroom experiences in China very interesting. Public washrooms in the suburbs are extra special but I'm beginning to find city public restrooms are catching up quickly in their own way. Ask anyone living in China and you will get a“WC experience”; sometimes funny, other times interesting, most of the time just a great story.
Yesterday, a person I just met for the first time shared a story about his washroom experience somewhere in WuDaoKou. He says he doesn't know if it's the same in the women's washroom (so far never had this experience and I can't imagine there ever being any in the women's WC), but one time while he was in the restroom, and this was in one of those with foreigners going, he was standing (of course), doing his “business” when suddenly he felt a pair of hands on his back. He turns around a bit to take a look and see the male-Chinese restroom attendant trying to give him a massage! This guy telling the story wasn't homophobic, and he says it wasn't done in any misleading way, but still, as he put it, doing your business in the urinal is one of the most personal things a person can do and to have someone there suddenly touching you from behind is just plain strange. But he was nice about it, he made a “no, thanks for the service” gesture and the attendant moved on to the next victim. My other friend and I were transfixed to his story, wow, we never knew this type of thing happens in male washrooms, and why? Who in the world would want that kind of service? Well, we concluded that some people do probably like getting this sort of treatment; otherwise it would be hard to come up with this kind of gimmick. It would then be a washroom brawl just waiting to happen.
I also shared one of my many interesting washroom experiences. I don’t have any bad experiences that I can remember right now, just a lot of smelly and eye-opening experiences. One of my most unforgettable one was during a trip outside of Beijing, on a mountain-temple trip. We stayed in like a one-floor, square type facility, with a public washroom to share. But the thing was, I think the carpenters who built the place must’ve forgotten to install a washroom, coz the room I went into was an actual room with no floor! The whole room was the urinal!Maybe half-way making it, they counted and suddenly realized they’ve built 10 rooms and haven’t gotten to a working washroom, so someone yelled, “Halt! Stop, don’t continue, forget about the flooring, we’ll say this is the washroom.” Have you seen the Japanese movie, “The Ring”? That’s the first thing that came to mind when I stepped in. Oh yah, they had wooden planks for you to walk on so you don’t fall in the hole---the well---room, oh whatever! A single orange bulb lighted the whole gray concrete walled room. I made my way to the middle and did my business, all the while thinking and imagining what could be down there. It was pitch black, I couldn’t see anything. Not even of what a previous visitor might have left there before I did. Suddenly just when I decided to focus my sight on the door in front of me, I felt a hand grab my ankles. I looked down and saw eyes so white I screamed! Just kidding. Nothing happened, I left the smelly dump in one piece, and for the rest of the stay tried to hold my bladder in as much as I could so that I didn’t have to go back in there.
During the same trip, same mountain, but different area, just after a meal, I decided to go look for a washroom. Now this one was quite pleasant. How can I describe it properly but that it was simply an outdoor urinal with concrete and bricks to wall you in just enough so nobody can see the lower part of your body and what you’re really doing inside. But still open enough to let you feel the cool breeze of the wind and overlook people about a few hundred meters away walking about minding their business, not realizing they are being watched by people like me. Even if they saw you that far away, they would only see a head poking out. I remember there was a stream running right between where those people were walking about and the outdoor-toilet. It gave the whole thing sort of a zen feel to it. The idea that you're the one doing your "business" but is also the one doing the peeking at other people is kind of amusing.
Yesterday, a person I just met for the first time shared a story about his washroom experience somewhere in WuDaoKou. He says he doesn't know if it's the same in the women's washroom (so far never had this experience and I can't imagine there ever being any in the women's WC), but one time while he was in the restroom, and this was in one of those with foreigners going, he was standing (of course), doing his “business” when suddenly he felt a pair of hands on his back. He turns around a bit to take a look and see the male-Chinese restroom attendant trying to give him a massage! This guy telling the story wasn't homophobic, and he says it wasn't done in any misleading way, but still, as he put it, doing your business in the urinal is one of the most personal things a person can do and to have someone there suddenly touching you from behind is just plain strange. But he was nice about it, he made a “no, thanks for the service” gesture and the attendant moved on to the next victim. My other friend and I were transfixed to his story, wow, we never knew this type of thing happens in male washrooms, and why? Who in the world would want that kind of service? Well, we concluded that some people do probably like getting this sort of treatment; otherwise it would be hard to come up with this kind of gimmick. It would then be a washroom brawl just waiting to happen.
I also shared one of my many interesting washroom experiences. I don’t have any bad experiences that I can remember right now, just a lot of smelly and eye-opening experiences. One of my most unforgettable one was during a trip outside of Beijing, on a mountain-temple trip. We stayed in like a one-floor, square type facility, with a public washroom to share. But the thing was, I think the carpenters who built the place must’ve forgotten to install a washroom, coz the room I went into was an actual room with no floor! The whole room was the urinal!Maybe half-way making it, they counted and suddenly realized they’ve built 10 rooms and haven’t gotten to a working washroom, so someone yelled, “Halt! Stop, don’t continue, forget about the flooring, we’ll say this is the washroom.” Have you seen the Japanese movie, “The Ring”? That’s the first thing that came to mind when I stepped in. Oh yah, they had wooden planks for you to walk on so you don’t fall in the hole---the well---room, oh whatever! A single orange bulb lighted the whole gray concrete walled room. I made my way to the middle and did my business, all the while thinking and imagining what could be down there. It was pitch black, I couldn’t see anything. Not even of what a previous visitor might have left there before I did. Suddenly just when I decided to focus my sight on the door in front of me, I felt a hand grab my ankles. I looked down and saw eyes so white I screamed! Just kidding. Nothing happened, I left the smelly dump in one piece, and for the rest of the stay tried to hold my bladder in as much as I could so that I didn’t have to go back in there.
During the same trip, same mountain, but different area, just after a meal, I decided to go look for a washroom. Now this one was quite pleasant. How can I describe it properly but that it was simply an outdoor urinal with concrete and bricks to wall you in just enough so nobody can see the lower part of your body and what you’re really doing inside. But still open enough to let you feel the cool breeze of the wind and overlook people about a few hundred meters away walking about minding their business, not realizing they are being watched by people like me. Even if they saw you that far away, they would only see a head poking out. I remember there was a stream running right between where those people were walking about and the outdoor-toilet. It gave the whole thing sort of a zen feel to it. The idea that you're the one doing your "business" but is also the one doing the peeking at other people is kind of amusing.
December 4, 2006
Random Food Blabbers
One of the best things about living in Beijing is the variety of food available. It has a lot of everything: Japanese, Italian, French, American, Korean, Thai etc. Even the Chinese food available in the city come from different places in China, making you wonder which in fact are considered by outsiders (foreigners outside of China) to be Chinese food? What is missing though is a Filipino restaurant! Where can I get a decent lechon kawali, sisig, langgonisa, etc. around here? In fairness, I remember going to some big supermarket that sell "pandesal." It's a sweet bun people usually eat in the morning, crispy on the outside for the butter to melt over, and fluffy-soft in the inside, great with or without anything. I miss pandesal!!!
I was out for lunch today and ordered a bowl of beef noodles. It was good; I liked the thick noodles, and I liked the thin, easy to chew beef that came with it, but oh my, I could count exactly how many slices of beef they put in there. You'd think they're trying to save us from cow disease. I was just really disappointed; I wanted more beef in my noodle bowl! Needless to say, I wasn't full when I got out of there. So I had a popsicle too, which was also disappointing because it was vanilla covered with fake chocolate.
Why am I talking about food? Am I still hungry? No. In fact I'm starting to feel the early pangs of a stomach ache. “la du zi” now that is another something anyone who's in Beijing has got to experience before they can say they've been here. There's no better indication that you live in Beijing than getting “la du zi” and getting your bike stolen (over and over again).
What am I saying?! Bottom line is, you got good days and bad days, but eating out in Beijing is (most of the time) a treat; a great treat! I love eating here. I sound like a lame advertiser, but I'm not promoting Beijing. Some think the food here is too oily or fattening or what, but that's the thing, you can find all kinds of food here, whatever it may be that you like. Personally, I like dining here, but of course I know many won't agree, but I don't care, I'm just saying that I! I like it! I enjoy the food Beijing has to offer, whatever country or province it may be from (but not all).
I was out for lunch today and ordered a bowl of beef noodles. It was good; I liked the thick noodles, and I liked the thin, easy to chew beef that came with it, but oh my, I could count exactly how many slices of beef they put in there. You'd think they're trying to save us from cow disease. I was just really disappointed; I wanted more beef in my noodle bowl! Needless to say, I wasn't full when I got out of there. So I had a popsicle too, which was also disappointing because it was vanilla covered with fake chocolate.
Why am I talking about food? Am I still hungry? No. In fact I'm starting to feel the early pangs of a stomach ache. “la du zi” now that is another something anyone who's in Beijing has got to experience before they can say they've been here. There's no better indication that you live in Beijing than getting “la du zi” and getting your bike stolen (over and over again).
What am I saying?! Bottom line is, you got good days and bad days, but eating out in Beijing is (most of the time) a treat; a great treat! I love eating here. I sound like a lame advertiser, but I'm not promoting Beijing. Some think the food here is too oily or fattening or what, but that's the thing, you can find all kinds of food here, whatever it may be that you like. Personally, I like dining here, but of course I know many won't agree, but I don't care, I'm just saying that I! I like it! I enjoy the food Beijing has to offer, whatever country or province it may be from (but not all).
December 3, 2006
Learning Chinese continuation... (part 3)
I was already attending first Year College in the Philippines then, and although I sort of enjoyed the idea of being somewhere new and far away, I was also a bit skeptical. I knew Beijing meant studying in China, which would mean learning to speak Mandarin once again, and I was really sick of it. I also knew going there to get my degree meant, higher standard Chinese, how in the world could I learn Chinese in one year, when I couldn't in the two years I did before that, and get in college or university! And say I couldn't, then I would've wasted another year, when right then I could've just finished my college degree and try to learn Chinese after I graduated. What to do?! My school was actually good, but my life in Manila just wasn't satisfying, I felt I didn't have enough freedom, and aside from going back and forth to school to my house, I felt like I wasn't learning much about life itself. I could finish school alright, but I knew there were more important things school just wasn't going to teach me about. I guess I was beginning to feel dumb.
Oh, the self-doubt! The fear of not knowing if this decision was right! What if I can't learn enough Chinese to get in school?! For some reason I had this idea that failure meant not being able to go back home, I really honestly felt I had nowhere to go back to if I chose to really do this and failed. I really wished someone would take the decision from my hands and just tell me what to do! This way, if anything went wrong, at least I wouldn't completely hate myself, this way I had someone else to blame my failure on. But nobody came to my rescue! My dad just kept giving me a choice. And others just gave me more doubts, and questions like, “do you think you can do it?” in a tone that said they didn't. I just answered with fear and honesty, “I don't know, I've never tried it.” So scared was I and couldn't even show it. When people doubt you, it's natural to become defensive about the subject. So instead of saying, “no, maybe I shouldn't go,” or “I change my mind, I don't think I can do this alone.” I tried to come up with sentence structures where, the other person is able to take the responsibility of deciding for me not to go, because as the day grew closer for me to move, I got bolder in thinking I shouldn't go. But my pride wouldn’t let me admit it. I wanted someone else to say, “don't go!” and me just agreeing. So one last time, I asked my dad, and explained the burden it might be to have me go, I even gave him options to just have me go to the nearby school that would cost less, and would be more convenient for everyone, that is, if he thought me going to Beijing wasn't the best idea. He said, “it's up to you.” :S My brothers said not to go, they were right, I knew that by going, I would increase expectation and pressure on myself in the future. I was “the one” who went to Beijing, my Chinese should be better than everyone else in the family, that kind of mentality might arise in the future, which would destroy the freedom I so longed for! With a heavy heart I chose to go to Beijing anyway.
In Beijing
It’s funny how you worry most about the little things you normally don’t notice when you’re super duper scared. I remember, my number one problem was figuring out how to get my heavy luggage up to my room alone. Seems stupid now, but I was WORRIED, I knew there was no way I could do it alone, and I had no idea how I was going to get someone to help me nor if I could even find anyone to help out. About a day or so before my departure, my dad asks if I wanted him to come with me (of course I did! The luggage! The luggage!). I said no. Oh dad, why must you ask all the time! Why didn’t you just come with me! Apparently we are more alike than it may seem; we’ve got pride the size of mount Olympus.
Beijing Now
Fast forward to the present. I’ve graduated recently from a Chinese university, and my family wants me to go back home but I don’t. Through the years, there were new challenges, and obstacles to be hurdled while living here in Beijing, but then I would find myself sitting alone in a public bus and silently reflect on everything. And everything just feeling so right. I’m glad I was forced by circumstances to make a decision, and I’m glad I didn’t let fear let me choose against coming to Beijing. I’ve met a lot of interesting and wonderful people. People who make you think maybe you came to meet them. Most of all, I got to know myself in ways that surprise even me. I sometimes wonder how my life would be, and what kind of a person I would be now, if I hadn’t chosen to come.
Another thing, learning Chinese in China, especially in Beijing, was a completely different experience for me than learning Chinese in other countries. I guess I’m one of those people who learn more in terms of being in the actual environment with people who constantly and only speak to you in their native language.
Oh, the self-doubt! The fear of not knowing if this decision was right! What if I can't learn enough Chinese to get in school?! For some reason I had this idea that failure meant not being able to go back home, I really honestly felt I had nowhere to go back to if I chose to really do this and failed. I really wished someone would take the decision from my hands and just tell me what to do! This way, if anything went wrong, at least I wouldn't completely hate myself, this way I had someone else to blame my failure on. But nobody came to my rescue! My dad just kept giving me a choice. And others just gave me more doubts, and questions like, “do you think you can do it?” in a tone that said they didn't. I just answered with fear and honesty, “I don't know, I've never tried it.” So scared was I and couldn't even show it. When people doubt you, it's natural to become defensive about the subject. So instead of saying, “no, maybe I shouldn't go,” or “I change my mind, I don't think I can do this alone.” I tried to come up with sentence structures where, the other person is able to take the responsibility of deciding for me not to go, because as the day grew closer for me to move, I got bolder in thinking I shouldn't go. But my pride wouldn’t let me admit it. I wanted someone else to say, “don't go!” and me just agreeing. So one last time, I asked my dad, and explained the burden it might be to have me go, I even gave him options to just have me go to the nearby school that would cost less, and would be more convenient for everyone, that is, if he thought me going to Beijing wasn't the best idea. He said, “it's up to you.” :S My brothers said not to go, they were right, I knew that by going, I would increase expectation and pressure on myself in the future. I was “the one” who went to Beijing, my Chinese should be better than everyone else in the family, that kind of mentality might arise in the future, which would destroy the freedom I so longed for! With a heavy heart I chose to go to Beijing anyway.
In Beijing
It’s funny how you worry most about the little things you normally don’t notice when you’re super duper scared. I remember, my number one problem was figuring out how to get my heavy luggage up to my room alone. Seems stupid now, but I was WORRIED, I knew there was no way I could do it alone, and I had no idea how I was going to get someone to help me nor if I could even find anyone to help out. About a day or so before my departure, my dad asks if I wanted him to come with me (of course I did! The luggage! The luggage!). I said no. Oh dad, why must you ask all the time! Why didn’t you just come with me! Apparently we are more alike than it may seem; we’ve got pride the size of mount Olympus.
Beijing Now
Fast forward to the present. I’ve graduated recently from a Chinese university, and my family wants me to go back home but I don’t. Through the years, there were new challenges, and obstacles to be hurdled while living here in Beijing, but then I would find myself sitting alone in a public bus and silently reflect on everything. And everything just feeling so right. I’m glad I was forced by circumstances to make a decision, and I’m glad I didn’t let fear let me choose against coming to Beijing. I’ve met a lot of interesting and wonderful people. People who make you think maybe you came to meet them. Most of all, I got to know myself in ways that surprise even me. I sometimes wonder how my life would be, and what kind of a person I would be now, if I hadn’t chosen to come.
Another thing, learning Chinese in China, especially in Beijing, was a completely different experience for me than learning Chinese in other countries. I guess I’m one of those people who learn more in terms of being in the actual environment with people who constantly and only speak to you in their native language.
November 30, 2006
(Learning Chinese Story continuation...)
Where was I, with the learning Chinese story? (having a quick look)
Oh the question, how did I find myself doing the one thing I was sick of and never thought I would be back doing----learning Mandarin! The reason, or actually, the events leading to it is quite complex. I'll start with graduating high school from an English speaking school in the south of China. We had Chinese classes in the morning for more or less two hours each day. That was for two years, in two different schools.
In the first school, I was put in a class with two others, an Indonesian Chinese, who already spoke Mandarin, and a French classmate who spoke Chinese quite well. We didn’t like the teacher, in fact I was the only one who felt sorry for her, not enough though to join the other two hiding from class and having the teacher look for us (childish I know, but golly fun). One class we actually spent in the principal's office. During times when we are finally forced to go in class, we take turns bringing snacks to eat during the lessons. It was during this time that I got the nickname, “cookie monster.” Somebody brought Oreos, not me but I don't remember who now. Anyway, we passed it around under the table, and I remember only eating a few, like two or a bit more but definitely not a lot, when suddenly one of them asked, “where's the cookies?”There wasn't much left by then, and the other friend answered, “I only ate a few, I didn't even eat that much," so that left me, and they started calling me “cookie monster.” I do like cookies, but I still wonder about that day, did I really finish those cookies? I think not, but whatever, being called, “cookie monster” is better than “pink princess,” eeeewwwwww…… That is so not me!
Whao, I've just told a story that didn't have a lot to do with what I was originally planning to. So back to the topic. My second year, in a different school now, but still an English speaking school in Southern China. I had Chinese language classes in the mornings with three other classmates. In one year we had about three different teachers, none of which were actually Chinese Language teachers.
I should say though, it wasn't really just the teacher's fault, a lot of times it was also the students’lack of interest and purpose that got in the way. Like for a lot of us, these classes to have us learn to speak Chinese was just for passing time, we weren't really there to LEARN Chinese, it was just a class that we had because the school had it.
What I mean is, none of us (in that class at least) were taking the lessons seriously, none of us were actually doing the homework and memorizing vocabulary words (ungrateful children that we were). By this time, at least my spoken Chinese was at a level that I could take a taxi and point out directions, and buy things, but I couldn't carry a decent conversation.
So comes graduation, and deciding for the future. Crazy as it may sound, I wanted to go study abroad to Europe; Spain to be more specific. Partly because I've always been very interested in Spanish culture and because I just have a natural instinct about living as farthest away from home as possible. My mom thought I should just stay were I was in China and improve my Mandarin, but I thought, if that were the case, I'd rather just go back home and study in my home country. My dad, two years after my graduation, had a proposal; he asked if I wanted to go abroad and study in Beijing. (to be continued...)
Oh the question, how did I find myself doing the one thing I was sick of and never thought I would be back doing----learning Mandarin! The reason, or actually, the events leading to it is quite complex. I'll start with graduating high school from an English speaking school in the south of China. We had Chinese classes in the morning for more or less two hours each day. That was for two years, in two different schools.
In the first school, I was put in a class with two others, an Indonesian Chinese, who already spoke Mandarin, and a French classmate who spoke Chinese quite well. We didn’t like the teacher, in fact I was the only one who felt sorry for her, not enough though to join the other two hiding from class and having the teacher look for us (childish I know, but golly fun). One class we actually spent in the principal's office. During times when we are finally forced to go in class, we take turns bringing snacks to eat during the lessons. It was during this time that I got the nickname, “cookie monster.” Somebody brought Oreos, not me but I don't remember who now. Anyway, we passed it around under the table, and I remember only eating a few, like two or a bit more but definitely not a lot, when suddenly one of them asked, “where's the cookies?”There wasn't much left by then, and the other friend answered, “I only ate a few, I didn't even eat that much," so that left me, and they started calling me “cookie monster.” I do like cookies, but I still wonder about that day, did I really finish those cookies? I think not, but whatever, being called, “cookie monster” is better than “pink princess,” eeeewwwwww…… That is so not me!
Whao, I've just told a story that didn't have a lot to do with what I was originally planning to. So back to the topic. My second year, in a different school now, but still an English speaking school in Southern China. I had Chinese language classes in the mornings with three other classmates. In one year we had about three different teachers, none of which were actually Chinese Language teachers.
I should say though, it wasn't really just the teacher's fault, a lot of times it was also the students’lack of interest and purpose that got in the way. Like for a lot of us, these classes to have us learn to speak Chinese was just for passing time, we weren't really there to LEARN Chinese, it was just a class that we had because the school had it.
What I mean is, none of us (in that class at least) were taking the lessons seriously, none of us were actually doing the homework and memorizing vocabulary words (ungrateful children that we were). By this time, at least my spoken Chinese was at a level that I could take a taxi and point out directions, and buy things, but I couldn't carry a decent conversation.
So comes graduation, and deciding for the future. Crazy as it may sound, I wanted to go study abroad to Europe; Spain to be more specific. Partly because I've always been very interested in Spanish culture and because I just have a natural instinct about living as farthest away from home as possible. My mom thought I should just stay were I was in China and improve my Mandarin, but I thought, if that were the case, I'd rather just go back home and study in my home country. My dad, two years after my graduation, had a proposal; he asked if I wanted to go abroad and study in Beijing. (to be continued...)
November 29, 2006
Language Confusion/Tough Decisions/Coming To Beijing
The Chinese language isn't one of my favourite subjects to talk about, but I guess at some point you just have to face it, after all it's what got me here in Beijing. Having parents of Chinese descent, not to mention business-minded that they are, my parents thought their children should know how to speak this language despite not using the language themselves, not that they can't, but there are hundreds or even thousands of other dialects in China, and most overseas-Chinese especially the ones living in Southern countries in Asia like Indonesia and the Philippines, speak the Min-Nang dialect and not the national language, Mandarin (PuTongHua). Where am I getting at? Nowhere and I'm not trying to, just wanted to share my experience, that's all. So! Having Chinese blood but born and raised in another country, my parents I guess felt obligated to pass down culture and language to the young ones. My brothers and I attended a Chinese Christian School my mom used to attend when she was little. Mornings consisted of learning English, which is the Philippines’ second (not first!) language, and afternoons are for Chinese lessons.
At home we spoke Tagalog, heard Min-Nang dialect converse between my parents, some English on tv that at that time I didn't understand but didn't seem to matter because kids who watch cartoons don't actually listen, we take notice of the colours and actions and can actually tell what is going on in the story, watched Cantonese martial arts movies, and saw my dad watching some Chinese Mandarin, take note, I saw my dad, not the show, and nor did any of us had any interest in trying to watch it with him. This was a time when I couldn't tell the difference between Min-Nang dialect, Mandarin Chinese, and Cantonese, and the only other countries I knew existed besides the Philippines was Japan (because of Disney Land) and America, heard it was far, and told my dad I wanted to go there someday. If I sound ignorant and immature, I will warn you that as this story goes on, it will only continue to sound that way, so first let me mention that I was at least 5 years of age, or at most 7 yrs. old, so forgive me if I sound annoying, because I was entitled to be.
Back to school, unlike in China, and I didn't even know this then, we were learning traditional Chinese, and not with Pinyin but with a whole different alphabetical system that is also used in Taiwan.
More on Chinese Lessons as a Kid
Classes mainly consisted of memorization. During class hours I remember repeating vocabulary words after the teacher, she would say, “blah blah” and the rest of the class repeated, “blah blah,” I had no idea what I was saying as long as it sounded similar to what the teacher was saying. There was a confusion going on that even I wasn’t aware until much later, I will explain this later. Aside from repeating after the teacher, I also remember her using her arms to draw imaginary strokes in the air to teach us how to write Chinese characters, and each stroke had a name I can't recall now.
The worst and most useless form of teaching was making us memorize some Chinese paragraphs. Then have us stand one at a time beside the teacher and recite it back to her. Forget about knowing what you are actually saying, the important thing is you remembered what you were supposed to say regardless of knowing the meaning and all. Well, I had bad memory even back then, add the nervousness of standing in front of your whole class, I was lucky if I even remembered a sentence to recite. What happened if you couldn't remember? You got whacked with a ruler, and not just any ruler, but the gigantic wooden types schools (in those days, in the Phil.) used to have to draw lines on the blackboard. Oh the piles of homework! From Chinese classes in the afternoon and English classes in the morning, kids had to carry strollers to carry their bags to and from school, and that was in kindergartens and elementary!
Years Later - After Isolating Myself From The Chinese Language
It was only a decade and a few more years later, when I was learning Mandarin Chinese in China, that I realized back then when I was trying to memorize words, no I should just call them“sounds," that we were actually learning two languages at the same time! No wonder it was so confusing! I don't remember having a discussion or the teacher explaining this, maybe they just assumed we knew. One of the things I remembered repeating after the teacher was, "ren xi lang," "ren" is in mandarin, meaning person, and “lang” is person in Min-Nang dialect! I didn't speak Min-Nang dialect, and not a word of Mandarin (or so I thought), so I didn't know which was which, and that the lesson was being explained in Min-Nang dialect, because “xi” is “is” in the dialect, so the teacher all along was saying, “person” is "person”!!!
All those Chinese lessons years ago did was convince me that I couldn't learn the language! I lost interest and motivation in learning Chinese. So how you might ask, did I end up in Beijing, learning Mandarin Chinese years later? How did I find my way back? Did an angel visit me in my dreams? Did my parents threaten or force me? Did I just suddenly wake up one day and just simply want to? Do you want to know?
Stay tuned for the next episode. Will rest now.
At home we spoke Tagalog, heard Min-Nang dialect converse between my parents, some English on tv that at that time I didn't understand but didn't seem to matter because kids who watch cartoons don't actually listen, we take notice of the colours and actions and can actually tell what is going on in the story, watched Cantonese martial arts movies, and saw my dad watching some Chinese Mandarin, take note, I saw my dad, not the show, and nor did any of us had any interest in trying to watch it with him. This was a time when I couldn't tell the difference between Min-Nang dialect, Mandarin Chinese, and Cantonese, and the only other countries I knew existed besides the Philippines was Japan (because of Disney Land) and America, heard it was far, and told my dad I wanted to go there someday. If I sound ignorant and immature, I will warn you that as this story goes on, it will only continue to sound that way, so first let me mention that I was at least 5 years of age, or at most 7 yrs. old, so forgive me if I sound annoying, because I was entitled to be.
Back to school, unlike in China, and I didn't even know this then, we were learning traditional Chinese, and not with Pinyin but with a whole different alphabetical system that is also used in Taiwan.
More on Chinese Lessons as a Kid
Classes mainly consisted of memorization. During class hours I remember repeating vocabulary words after the teacher, she would say, “blah blah” and the rest of the class repeated, “blah blah,” I had no idea what I was saying as long as it sounded similar to what the teacher was saying. There was a confusion going on that even I wasn’t aware until much later, I will explain this later. Aside from repeating after the teacher, I also remember her using her arms to draw imaginary strokes in the air to teach us how to write Chinese characters, and each stroke had a name I can't recall now.
The worst and most useless form of teaching was making us memorize some Chinese paragraphs. Then have us stand one at a time beside the teacher and recite it back to her. Forget about knowing what you are actually saying, the important thing is you remembered what you were supposed to say regardless of knowing the meaning and all. Well, I had bad memory even back then, add the nervousness of standing in front of your whole class, I was lucky if I even remembered a sentence to recite. What happened if you couldn't remember? You got whacked with a ruler, and not just any ruler, but the gigantic wooden types schools (in those days, in the Phil.) used to have to draw lines on the blackboard. Oh the piles of homework! From Chinese classes in the afternoon and English classes in the morning, kids had to carry strollers to carry their bags to and from school, and that was in kindergartens and elementary!
Years Later - After Isolating Myself From The Chinese Language
It was only a decade and a few more years later, when I was learning Mandarin Chinese in China, that I realized back then when I was trying to memorize words, no I should just call them“sounds," that we were actually learning two languages at the same time! No wonder it was so confusing! I don't remember having a discussion or the teacher explaining this, maybe they just assumed we knew. One of the things I remembered repeating after the teacher was, "ren xi lang," "ren" is in mandarin, meaning person, and “lang” is person in Min-Nang dialect! I didn't speak Min-Nang dialect, and not a word of Mandarin (or so I thought), so I didn't know which was which, and that the lesson was being explained in Min-Nang dialect, because “xi” is “is” in the dialect, so the teacher all along was saying, “person” is "person”!!!
All those Chinese lessons years ago did was convince me that I couldn't learn the language! I lost interest and motivation in learning Chinese. So how you might ask, did I end up in Beijing, learning Mandarin Chinese years later? How did I find my way back? Did an angel visit me in my dreams? Did my parents threaten or force me? Did I just suddenly wake up one day and just simply want to? Do you want to know?
Stay tuned for the next episode. Will rest now.
November 28, 2006
Memories of SARS
Just feel like typing some more. Well, hmmm… What to write about… Oh, how about the time of the SARS epidemic? Lol… I booked a flight back home a bit later than I should. Originally I wasn't even planning to go home, and since one of my friends was also planning to stay, she was from Hong Kong, and at the time, Hong Kong was one of the danger zones, we thought it'd be fun to be stuck in Beijing together. Originally I had nowhere to go anyway, but later, I was given a chance to go back home (long story), so I booked a flight. I haven't been home for more than a year and a half.
My Hong Kong friend also decided she will go back home then. So there I was excited that I was going home, when one day, my brother calls me and says mom called him and told me not to go home. I was like, “why?” he was like, “you'll be quarantined if they know your flight came from Beijing. Quarantined for two weeks in a far away, dirty hospital.” Of course I didn't believe him, I had no reason not to, but I always question a lot of things that come from my brother. I guess it's from the experience of getting fooled too many times growing up together. Did I call my mom to get a confirmation? I forgot but yah, so it's true, there were quarantined rules and I was asked to refund my ticket and stay in Beijing alone!
During that time I was living with two other roommates (not the ones in my other story), they went home earlier (ooh, I just remembered another story that happened when they left, of me getting locked out by accident, later on that) and so there I was all alone at home, I couldn't even go to school, coz they weren't letting students in or out of the campus! I remember, Beijing was like a ghost town! Nobody roamed the streets, not even beggars! For once, there it was guaranteed you'll find a whole bench to sit on in subways and busses, and you can bet nobody wanted to be near anybody else so “space” was finally available on a regular basis. Wow!
My mom called several times, telling me not to go to boxed-up areas such as the supermarket and the likes. I just said agreed but of course how am I going to survive if I don't buy food. It was like, die from encounter with a SARS contaminated person or die from starvation. I figured I had more chances of dying from starvation, being that eating was a daily problem. I just tried to buy as much food as I could carry back home in one-go. With no friends, no school, nobody at all, do you know how I kept myself sane? Do you know what kept me busy and who kept me company? I kept myself busy by coming up with a daily schedule of reading, drawing, and watching English travel shows on tv. Yes, my television was my best friend then. I remember living in that place, it was a pretty nice place by the way, not the old, dark, cheap place I later moved into, but oh wow, so far from the school, paying for the electricity actually meant buying the electricity in advance with a card.
One night while watching Kevin Costner's“Dragonfly”I had a black-out. I was there alone in the dark, and thinking“huh!”I looked out the window and found my neighbouring buildings with their lights all bright and shiny. I stepped out of my house and found my next door neighbour complaining too. Great, so maybe I'm not the only one, maybe it's just our building after all. We call a building staff to have a look at the problem. Turns out, my next door neighbour was just a victim---MY victim. My electricity wasn't enough to support watching dvd, and it bounced my neighbours electrical box as well. Lol… So she gets her electricity back on, and I go back to my dark dungeon. I had nothing better to do but read a book with a flash light on at 9pm!
My Hong Kong friend also decided she will go back home then. So there I was excited that I was going home, when one day, my brother calls me and says mom called him and told me not to go home. I was like, “why?” he was like, “you'll be quarantined if they know your flight came from Beijing. Quarantined for two weeks in a far away, dirty hospital.” Of course I didn't believe him, I had no reason not to, but I always question a lot of things that come from my brother. I guess it's from the experience of getting fooled too many times growing up together. Did I call my mom to get a confirmation? I forgot but yah, so it's true, there were quarantined rules and I was asked to refund my ticket and stay in Beijing alone!
During that time I was living with two other roommates (not the ones in my other story), they went home earlier (ooh, I just remembered another story that happened when they left, of me getting locked out by accident, later on that) and so there I was all alone at home, I couldn't even go to school, coz they weren't letting students in or out of the campus! I remember, Beijing was like a ghost town! Nobody roamed the streets, not even beggars! For once, there it was guaranteed you'll find a whole bench to sit on in subways and busses, and you can bet nobody wanted to be near anybody else so “space” was finally available on a regular basis. Wow!
My mom called several times, telling me not to go to boxed-up areas such as the supermarket and the likes. I just said agreed but of course how am I going to survive if I don't buy food. It was like, die from encounter with a SARS contaminated person or die from starvation. I figured I had more chances of dying from starvation, being that eating was a daily problem. I just tried to buy as much food as I could carry back home in one-go. With no friends, no school, nobody at all, do you know how I kept myself sane? Do you know what kept me busy and who kept me company? I kept myself busy by coming up with a daily schedule of reading, drawing, and watching English travel shows on tv. Yes, my television was my best friend then. I remember living in that place, it was a pretty nice place by the way, not the old, dark, cheap place I later moved into, but oh wow, so far from the school, paying for the electricity actually meant buying the electricity in advance with a card.
One night while watching Kevin Costner's“Dragonfly”I had a black-out. I was there alone in the dark, and thinking“huh!”I looked out the window and found my neighbouring buildings with their lights all bright and shiny. I stepped out of my house and found my next door neighbour complaining too. Great, so maybe I'm not the only one, maybe it's just our building after all. We call a building staff to have a look at the problem. Turns out, my next door neighbour was just a victim---MY victim. My electricity wasn't enough to support watching dvd, and it bounced my neighbours electrical box as well. Lol… So she gets her electricity back on, and I go back to my dark dungeon. I had nothing better to do but read a book with a flash light on at 9pm!
The Night of the Lady By The Stairs
The registration thing went better than I thought, better, as in they didn't ask me any questions, and there I was trying to think up of questions they might ask, and what I should reply, oh the anxiety over nothing. Just glad that's over, I might have been a bit paranoid, but better safe than unprepared.
Talking about residing in China, I suddenly remember my scariest experience. I used to live with two other friends from school. We lived in one of those cheap“lou fang” right in the city. If you've ever looked for a place to live in Beijing you could probably guess then what my house looked like judging from my mention of“cheap" and“in the city center.” For those of you who don't, well in Beijing the closer your place is to the center of the city, or around the third ring road, the more expensive the apartments are. Choosing something old and ugly will decrease the price, especially if it's one of those places that's just waiting to be torn down. We were actually living in one of those cheap, old, paint-running-down-the-wall, no lights on outside type of places. It was just fifteen minutes walk to our school see, and we liked to eat well. We figured, we're just going to be sleeping in it. As rundown as the place was, it sat right between a huge supermarket and one of the best and most expensive Japanese restaurants in Beijing. Ok, on with the story: One night, there I was at home with one of my roommates. I was on the phone with someone else when our other roommate called my other roommate on her cell phone asking her to come down and get her. Now, this roommate that was outside, she was the type who starts screaming watching opening credits for horror movies, and she warned us that sometimes she might call one of us to come down and walk home with her, because it was just too dark and scary. So far she never did this, and I thought she was used to it by then, so to have her call up suddenly that night was quite peculiar.
On my other roommate's way out the door to get her, I stopped her and asked what was going on. She said (something like this), “She said there's a lady following her.” Ooh… Like a dialogue from a horror flick. So I continued chatting on the phone while she went down to get our other friend. When I finally heard them come in, I heard someone else (that was unfamiliar) trying to hold on to the door and get in. But since I was stuck on the phone, I couldn't get a good view of who it was. I was like a narrator, telling my friend on the phone what was happening when I myself wasn't sure what was going on. I just heard my roommate say, “We don't know you.” Somebody else laughing,“I know you!” My roommate replying,“ Then who am I? What's my name?" My other roommate saying,“What are you doing?! Just close the door!" Then door slamming.
I got the whole story later on, but first I must explain how the lights in the hallway work. They’re always off, and they’re not noise sensitive, instead you have to touch them to get some light. So my roommate was on her way up, we lived on the 5th floor if I remember correctly, she got to the second floor and turned on the lights and who should be standing right there in front of her but this 40 year old lady. “You scared me! What are you doing standing here in the dark.” In Chinese it was actually said a lot faster. So she continued to climb the stairs, and noticed that the woman has also began climbing the stairs with her.
My roommate felt it was strange, strange enough that she turned around mid 3rd or 4th floor, to face the woman and asks her (something like this) “Where are you going?” Now assuming that the lady lived in the same building, this question would be rude, but who knows why my roommate thought to asks anyway. The lady says she was going to our house (making it sound like she was a visitor). My roommate wouldn’t hear anymore, and started back down the stairs, passing the lady. She finds a public phone and phones us.
That night after closing the door, we looked out the peephole to see if she was still there, but the lights were already turned off, we couldn’t see anything. It crossed my mind to open the door to find out but of course only people in movies do that. The next day, on our way to school, we told the old man who guards the big front gate about last night, and he says, “yeah, there was a lady seen coming out this morning from your building, she’s suppose to be a bit Looney.” Thank goodness we weren’t tempted enough to open the door last night!!!
It was pretty scary for awhile, coming home every night alone and in the dark, you couldn’t help but wonder if she decided to come back. Can you imagine?!
Talking about residing in China, I suddenly remember my scariest experience. I used to live with two other friends from school. We lived in one of those cheap“lou fang” right in the city. If you've ever looked for a place to live in Beijing you could probably guess then what my house looked like judging from my mention of“cheap" and“in the city center.” For those of you who don't, well in Beijing the closer your place is to the center of the city, or around the third ring road, the more expensive the apartments are. Choosing something old and ugly will decrease the price, especially if it's one of those places that's just waiting to be torn down. We were actually living in one of those cheap, old, paint-running-down-the-wall, no lights on outside type of places. It was just fifteen minutes walk to our school see, and we liked to eat well. We figured, we're just going to be sleeping in it. As rundown as the place was, it sat right between a huge supermarket and one of the best and most expensive Japanese restaurants in Beijing. Ok, on with the story: One night, there I was at home with one of my roommates. I was on the phone with someone else when our other roommate called my other roommate on her cell phone asking her to come down and get her. Now, this roommate that was outside, she was the type who starts screaming watching opening credits for horror movies, and she warned us that sometimes she might call one of us to come down and walk home with her, because it was just too dark and scary. So far she never did this, and I thought she was used to it by then, so to have her call up suddenly that night was quite peculiar.
On my other roommate's way out the door to get her, I stopped her and asked what was going on. She said (something like this), “She said there's a lady following her.” Ooh… Like a dialogue from a horror flick. So I continued chatting on the phone while she went down to get our other friend. When I finally heard them come in, I heard someone else (that was unfamiliar) trying to hold on to the door and get in. But since I was stuck on the phone, I couldn't get a good view of who it was. I was like a narrator, telling my friend on the phone what was happening when I myself wasn't sure what was going on. I just heard my roommate say, “We don't know you.” Somebody else laughing,“I know you!” My roommate replying,“ Then who am I? What's my name?" My other roommate saying,“What are you doing?! Just close the door!" Then door slamming.
I got the whole story later on, but first I must explain how the lights in the hallway work. They’re always off, and they’re not noise sensitive, instead you have to touch them to get some light. So my roommate was on her way up, we lived on the 5th floor if I remember correctly, she got to the second floor and turned on the lights and who should be standing right there in front of her but this 40 year old lady. “You scared me! What are you doing standing here in the dark.” In Chinese it was actually said a lot faster. So she continued to climb the stairs, and noticed that the woman has also began climbing the stairs with her.
My roommate felt it was strange, strange enough that she turned around mid 3rd or 4th floor, to face the woman and asks her (something like this) “Where are you going?” Now assuming that the lady lived in the same building, this question would be rude, but who knows why my roommate thought to asks anyway. The lady says she was going to our house (making it sound like she was a visitor). My roommate wouldn’t hear anymore, and started back down the stairs, passing the lady. She finds a public phone and phones us.
That night after closing the door, we looked out the peephole to see if she was still there, but the lights were already turned off, we couldn’t see anything. It crossed my mind to open the door to find out but of course only people in movies do that. The next day, on our way to school, we told the old man who guards the big front gate about last night, and he says, “yeah, there was a lady seen coming out this morning from your building, she’s suppose to be a bit Looney.” Thank goodness we weren’t tempted enough to open the door last night!!!
It was pretty scary for awhile, coming home every night alone and in the dark, you couldn’t help but wonder if she decided to come back. Can you imagine?!
Landlords and Roaches
Waiting for my landlady to call me back. I hope she's not pissed I'm changing the schedule plans a bit. I really need her help right now. I also know traveling more than an hour in traffic to come here to do this for me is the last thing she wants to do. Being a foreigner living in China can sometimes mean a lot of hassle. Damn, foreign registration regulations!!! Why do they need to know where we live? If I were illegal or doing something I shouldn't, I'd probably find a good way to hide myself anyway, what this is just causing more nuisance to foreigners living in China.
I guess even I feel for my landlady, no wonder she didn't seem too excited on having foreigners living in her house, hmmm… Is this the governments’ way of minimizing foreigners living in Chinese apartments? Whereas before it was illegal and had lots of people breaking the rules anyway, now they're just making it harder to actually do it even if it's legal. So smart, those law passers.
On a less stressful note, our place is slowly being taken over by baby cockroaches. They were there even before we moved in and my roommate and I thought, no problem, we'll just buy“cockroach houses" (you know, the killer house for roaches), so they came three in one pack, and we put one in our room beneath the bookshelf, where it'll go unnoticed by visitors, another one in the living room, underneath her working table, and another one in the kitchen, under the all-purpose table. Well, the thing is, we both agree, that they seem to have increased rather than decreased in population. Or maybe it just seems that way coz we see them more often sprinting about on our tables, could it be that they knew? And that they are trying to stay as far away from the“murder houses”by crawling on table tops instead of the floor? By the way, I call them“murder houses”coz that's what we call them in Chinese (zang lang jia) when translated. Another theory is that, maybe the“thing" supposed to be attracting the roaches to go into the“murder houses,”are so strong that they are also attracting our neighbours’roaches. What do you think? Frankly, we don't really care, all we really want is for them to get lured into the murder houses, die, and decrease population!
November 26, 2006
'Ello~
Hi Everyone~
I'm living in Beijing right now, and I'm starting a blog about my days here in China, how I learned Chinese, what I've been seeing around China, the Chinese culture and lifestyle, stories on how I got here, other expats and foreigners' stories and just some random stuff I might feel like typing out on random days. You're all welcome to read! Well, I hope somebody does come in here and read, coz otherwise, what's the point of having an online journal eh?
Peace~
I'm living in Beijing right now, and I'm starting a blog about my days here in China, how I learned Chinese, what I've been seeing around China, the Chinese culture and lifestyle, stories on how I got here, other expats and foreigners' stories and just some random stuff I might feel like typing out on random days. You're all welcome to read! Well, I hope somebody does come in here and read, coz otherwise, what's the point of having an online journal eh?
Peace~
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