my new best friend

I have a new tutor.
I disappointed her before I even met her.

We set to meet last weekend outside a McDonald's. Through email she knew I was an American. I walk up to a girl standing outside who was looking around as if she was expecting someone.

So I go up to her and ask,"Hi, are you Jenny?"
She looks at me briefly and then looks away. As you would if a crazy person approached you, asking how many birds were sitting in their pocket.

I ask again,"Are you Jenny?"
She turns further away from me.

Convinced that I have thoroughly creeped out a random stranger that was probably just waiting for the bus, I walk in, give my tutor a call.
I look around, looking for someone who was answering the phone.

The girl outside who I creeped on was on the phone.
What a coincidence.

I ask her where she is.
She says, outside.

So, I go outside.
I call out,"Jenny."

She spins around.
And her face is crushed.

I'm perplexed, why didn't she answer me when I asked her very directly if she was Jenny, my tutor? (Who else, after all, would know someone's name and come up to them to ask them?)
So I ask her,"Wait, you saw me before, why didn't you respond when I asked if you were Jenny?"

She answers,
"mmm...I was looking for an American."

Meet the Students

Last week, I gave an assignment to my students to describe "What does it mean to be 'Chinese?'" in 3 words. They were to interview their grandparents, parents, a peer, and then give their own opinion. After a class discussion and presentations, I learned a lot about China, Chinese people, and most importantly, my students.

I cannot stress how bright these students are, they're young, 18 or 19. But they're sharp and curious. Sometimes,  I get the impression that the rest of the world seems to think Chinese people are mindless, following the government at its whim. That's hardly true. From migrants I've talked to on the train to this very assignment, people are aware--and critical--of what's going on in China.

Their grandparents emphasized other things--"tradition," "Mid-Autumn Festival," and "harmony." Several students mentioned that despite going through "The Great War," their grandparents have found the subsequent development of China to be peaceful and good. One student shared that her grandparents emphasized having a "Tiananmen Square" mentality. My eyes almost bugged out of its sockets when I heard this, thinking she was going to talk about 1989. She kept on talking about how her grandparents meant that every Chinese person needs to visit Tiananmen Square at least once in their life, as a kind of pilgrimage because of Mao's embalmed body and the heavy presence of CCP buildings. As an American, it was almost paradoxical to hear that this is what the "Tiananmen Square" mentality to mean. Good job, Chinese propaganda.

Many of the students interviewed their peers and friends, commenting on the inequality and high pressure for the current generation. Some students, especially from poorer provinces, shared that their parents talked about how they work so hard but still remain in poverty. Other words included "corrupted," "unfair," and "stressful." They expressed frustration about their own prospects for the future--getting a job, an apartment, providing for their parents.

But at the same time, in each of my classes, more than half of the students brought up the Sichuan earthquake efforts in 2008. This was a moment of national unity, coming together to help each other. As suspicious and frustrated as they have grown of the government and the system, they believe in each other.

And that is what I took away from all of it--these students are choosing to be optimistic. They've seen so much transformation in just their lifetimes. And I think, they're hoping for just as much transformation as they grow up to lead China.

Best one was still: "To be Chinese, teacher, means to have an "iron stomach." After a quizzical look on my face, he responded with "Remember the milk powder incident? And all the stuff with lead? Yeah, we need to have an iron stomach here to survive." He touched the core of China's biggest issues--corruption--with such effortless humor. All around, an apt representation of the China I know.

Happily lost in translation

I really enjoy receiving emails from my students.

Subject line: "hello girl."

As a transition between paragraphs: "Let us be more relaxed."

Subject line: "all about Garlic." (a student's English name is Garlic.)

"My English name is Robert, which remains to be changed."

"Hoping to be good friends. By the way, what is your constellation?"

"I am a happy boy."

"I believe we can be lifelong friends."

What doesn't kill you...

While living in Beijing is like having a cup of tea in a kitchen with a gas leak (you're sort of suffocating on your soot-colored boogers), I find this city very beautiful . If you follow the API twitter or weibo (http://twitter.com/#!/beijingair), you see that the API index usually hovers over 400 during the day. Just to give some comparison, traffic-clogged Los Angeles after a forest fire is below 400.

Still, sunset with the surge of smog and the traffic that causes it is one of my favorite times of day in Beijing.

By the way, Asian glow is a foreign concept here. Not surprised, look below for a sample of Beijing drinks.

Wuyuan, Jiangxi

Whoops, in the flurry of National Day travel, forgot to finish the rest the Jiangxi trip. Went to Wuyuan after Sanqingshan, basically a cluster of Ming-era villages. To be honest, these villages are pretty touristy--about 60 RMB per village in order to enter. However, after seeing how folks here still use hand-powered farming machinery and live in housing that shows little technological improvement from the original Ming era, I'd say that tourism money has become a necessity.

I thought they were very resourceful with finding a way to roast chestnuts for snacks. Then I realized they were burning their English schoolbooks.

Jiangxi toughness.

My train riding partner for the 18-hr trip home. 

And on that note, I can now finally celebrate my full transition to adulthood. I have been called an "Aiyi" by my new little friend.

三清山 (Sanqingshan, Jiangxi Province)

I hiked up Sanqingshan with the Chinese couple that I met in the village that I got dropped off at. Our friendship reminds me how you can't predict how and where you will meet people. But we spent most of our journey together talking about Jilin and Shandong, each of their respective home provinces.

Sanqingshan is really something, the trail is cut into the side of the cliffs. It was a sweaty walk just up the porter's trail and we weren't even carrying anything these bare-chested guys were.

The rest of the journey consisted of mopping my face every five seconds. I never knew my pores could sweat so much. My hiking partners were a spry, older Chinese couple. The wife had a penchant for doing random hoots into the cliff-side just to hear the echo as well as yell to her husband on the single trail up the mountain that she was in front of him and 10 ft later, she would yell again that she was (still) in front of him.

Gorgeous skies.

the weekend-long date I third-wheeled on

And then the fog started to come in...

Trekked to the Taoist temple, nestled into the mountaintop

I'm walking on sunshine...sort of.

A breather, Jiangxi.

I had some time on my hands and wanted to escape the tight hug of Beijing's summer smoggy heat. I bought a ticket to Nanchang, Jiangxi, after buying some slacks one afternoon. The storekeeper had told me that a train ticket office was just around the corner. She had just sold me some really great slacks so I figured that was a good sign, right?

Jiangxi is not high on tourists' (or Chinese locals') list of places to visit. Unlike Henan, where most people thought I said Hunan every time they asked me where I went, nobody mixed up Jiangxi with another place. They simply asked,"Uh...Jiangxi? Really?...Why?"

This reminded me of when I went to Bandung in Indonesia and every time I met a local Indonesian and they found out I was American, they would simply ask,"Why are you not in Bali?!"

Turns out all these people are missing out, Jiangxi is a great place simply to absorb. And have some really great fish soup.

The next day, took a sleeper train to Nanchang. Arrived bright and early and was lost in the throng of people yelling out items, buses, and hellos. I knew I wanted to head to Sanqingshan, one of Jiangxi's famous Taoist mountains, with a temple buried into the mountaintop. Except no idea how to get there. So I wandered around, asking people for the bus. Finally, found the bus ticket office. Turns out there are no buses there (thanks Lonely Planet) but I needed to go to Sangrao. Get the ticket, wait.

Bus starts rumbling off and I and the 20 other men on the bus wave by to Nanchang. We passed the time mainly bouncing along the bumpy roads and watching really awkward KTV videos on the bus' TV. There was one with a Chinese pop star singing while alternating with clips of American cowboys in chaps, dancing and lassoing things. To save your eyes, I included a more PG cut of the video below.

Most of the scenery outside showed the industrious side to Jiangxi. Most houses were built out of concrete, smoggy air spewed every where. My face was either doused in sweat from the humidity that hung in the air or a thick layer of dust from the roads and factories. Front yards were either filled with trash or some kind of mechanical item.

And tons of factories everywhere. Most things with the "made in China" label should really say, "made in Jiangxi."

Finally arrived in Yushan (bus driver took pity on me after a 5-hr ride to Sangrao and took me a bit further). There, I had to wait for another bus to the actual mountain. Waited, chatted with a local student.

And then onto another bus into the mountains--bumpy rides and neck-twisting swerves at no extra charge. I chatted with some of the other bus riders. Upon finding out that I was traveling alone, they took pity on me and said they would help me out.

Next thing I know, they drop me off in front of a random house in the mountain village. Hmm...

The bus driver though talks with another man and turns out he's touring through Jiangxi with his wife and they were also visiting Sanqingshan. He was staying a homestay/make-shift hostel and helped me out. The bus driver refused to take me to the mountain that afternoon since it was already past 4 PM and too late to climb the mountain. So I had to nix my plan of camping out on the mountain, which in hindsight is probably for the better.

So I stayed with this lovely family and hung out with my new Chinese friends--I was a total third wheel (or light bulb, as the Chinese saying goes).

"See you later," the bus driver says.

Um...where am I?

at least the house had  a yang-yang--can't be that dangerous, right?

And of course, no household is complete without: