wanshengjie wiles

well, it's been quite some time since my last little slough of jargon flew up on this posting space. ever so much has transpired in the last few weeks, and i'm sure the same can easily be said of readers and writer alike.

strange sightings: three suit-clad businessmen were seen pissing on the side of a major roundabout near numerous government buildings (incidentally next door to my place of employ) last week, nonchalantly shooting the breeze during what i can only assume is for them common elimination procedure. i had to dodge grazing cows on my way home from the trolleybus over a week ago, which i thought strange since their de facto grazing land was smack dab between railroad tracks and busy avenue (is this a chinese version of free range, i wonder?). since the weather has turned cold, most children have transformed into vaguely ambulatory clothing bundles. too funny to watch said bundles perching precariously atop a bicycle. sadly that's all i can think of off the top of my head, but i will surely think of more in the next few days.

BRRRRRRR!
well, it's downright chilly here in northeast china. we had a sudden onslaught of freeze about a few weeks ago, and i shudder just a touch to think that this is only the beginning of what is shaping up to be a hypothermia-friendly winter. as i've mentioned to a few folks, central heating is turned on by calendar day, not temperature, and that day is november first. now i have to preface the upcoming tirade by saying that in china, as in no other place i have been, the weather is not an idle topic. it is, rather, a living and predominantly malificent entity whose sole mission is to make northern chinese the toughest, most resilient population (outside new york subway commuters) i have ever come across. that said, you can imagine what most people discuss on an average day when the weather is below freezing and one's apartment is colder than outside. our headmaster woke up one morning to find his sink lined with frozen water. i have never experienced bonechilling weather before, but it has a peculiar effect on brain activity. most people wear at least three layers of clothing, tip to tail. my students look more like bushels of yarn than aspiring young minds, though i'm sure the clever little tykes are in there somewhere. waiguorens are known for not dressing for cold weather, so more than one chinese friend of mine has unceremoniously pulled up my shirt and pants to see how i am dressed. they all reply that i'm not wearing nearly enough. most subsequently display their own layering system so as to give me a point of reference. i'm still a few weeks from my yarn underwear purchase, thank you. any thoughts i previously had of swimming in nanhu park this winter are gone, gone, gone! some bloc's heat was turned on october 25th to avoid frostbite hospital admittals, and my bloc was one of the lucky few. i think this has something to do with the fact that my apartment is located behind a hospital. happy me! i won't belabor a topic that is probably dismal to those of you situated in comparatively tropic climates, but just know that there are millions of dongbeiren (northeast china inhabitants) who are jealous of your single-layer attire (but you're still not wearing enough).

WANSHENGJIE
tomorrow is halloween ("wanshengjie" in chinese)! this is a holiday not observed in china, so i have been acquainting my students with some of the practices. of the holiday observances, you can imagine that candy acquisition rates first and foremost. nancy and i (my co-teacher at ji che chang primary school) have explained trick-or-treating, witches and costumes. this has been met with a cavalcade (is that the right word?) of questions. "are there really witches?" "if i dress as a witch, can i fly, too?" "what happens if a person doesn't give you candy?" "why do you wear costumes?" "are there REALLY witches?" "how does the broom fly?" they are so gosh-darn cute!! i can't wait until tomorrow when we trick-or-treat (after their test, of course). will be sure to take pictures, though i am still working on finding a scanner i can use in this coal-ridden city.

NI JIAO SHENME MINGZI?
thanks to those who helped with the colossal task of naming! of the 300 students i helped name in the past few months, i've tried not to give any name more than twice. tried to approximate the sound of their given name or its meaning. one of my favorites was naming justice, a boy whose chinese name means "ambitious." ambition should be tempered with justice in my estimation, and his given name sounded much like justice. ahhh, small victories! it has also been heartening to meet a few students who didn't want an english name. i had tried to state as firmly as i could that english names are only for those who want one, and it was glorious to see that my speeches seemed to hit home. i'm sadly currently slaughtering their chinese names, but i have vowed to improve with time and practice.

anyway, more soon. thanks to all for sticking out the length of this email as well as the length of my silence. hope to hear from you and to hear that all is well.

nothing short of paradise

october first is national day in china. the week surrounding aforementioned holiday is a time when most everyone in china has between 4 and 7 days free to travel or shoot the breeze or bao jiaozi or . . . (and, dear reader, perhaps you can understand what this means for the majority of the greatest population on earth to be suddenly unshackled from its occupational dens). as for me, i decided to embark on an adventure to dalian, one of the most renouned coastal towns in northern china.

as it turned out, Jeff (a coworker and friend) and i stayed a day at his friend's place in shenyang (midway between changchun and the much-anticipated dalian) before jetting off to dalian. his friend in shenyang ended up playing host to three or four friends during the holiday, as he is within a stone's throw from his alma mater and hence visited by old classmates. a lively time had by all. Zhao Hao's fiancee is also a grad student in english, so i even had someone to talk to while Jeff, Zhao Hao and Zhao Hai long spoke of days gone by. we played mahjiong, ate good fish and walked to the nearest park. as i may have mentioned to some before in personal emails, most parks in china are green excuses for amusement parks. why, when strolling around a peaceful lake punctuated by the occasional willow tree, there seems to be a burning need for bumper car rides and tilt-a-whirls, i will never understand. maybe it is my poor unsophisticated aestheticism. who knows? but on this particular day, the day before the holiday officially began, battalions of uniform-clad tykes paraded through nanhu park determined to buy every chintsy inflated plastic thingy and to ride every manual-powered amusement ride they could afford. it was so funny to watch the Young Pioneers pedalling away on their roller-coaster-like car or pondering a purchase (useless inflated plastic purple club or useless inflated plastic pink duck?) that the amusement assault on an otherwise serene park evaporated from my noggin.

but enough of pseudo-serene parks! onto dalian! Jeff decided to accompany me to dalian since his sister, an accountant like himself, couldn't get the time off they would have needed for a harbin holiday. we checked out xinghai park and laohutan park (suprise! they both had amusement rides complete with ferris wheel). the view, if you could just eject the giant waterslide from your mind, is bafflingly gorgeous. xinghai park has bungee jumping, which we watched for a good half hour. people spend a lot of money to feel like they are on the verge of dying while being constantly assured beforehand that the feeling is not an anticipation of actual result. after laohutan park and a 2-hour walk back into town, Jeff and i searched for a particular restaurant he remembered from a previous trip to dalian (sorry Jeff, but must tell the story. hope you forgive me). we ended up getting information from a woman who did not have all of her marbles that she knew the place we were thinking of and it was a short bus ride to the big restaurant. we ended up taking a long friggin' bus ride to a tiny restaurant that was, to make matters even more interesting, on military-occupied land and therefore off-limits to foreigners. one of the other passengers, as it became apparent that the woman was telling both Jeff and i to stay on board past the daytime checkpoint, that she was crazy and more than a little stupid to invite a foreigner into a military community. needless to say, we took the next possible bus back and Jeff FOUND THE RESTAURANT!! i had a sea urchin for the first time ever (very odd taste). beer and sleep melted all military hypotheticals away.

after Jeff left for changchun, i stayed on and went swimming fujiazhuang jingqu, a park WITHOUT AMUSEMENT RIDES!!!! i knew from that moment that it was going to be alright. i walked up a little hill and found a patch of zero-traffic woodedness and held on there for at least an hour. silence in chinese wilderness is not easily come by, and i lapped it up sure as shootin'. after this interlude came the real business - swimming. a kindly fellow who looked like he could be a lifeguard (i was suprised when he told me he wasn't) watched my bag while i had the single greatest ocean swimming experience of my life. i feel that's saying a lot. the waves weren't forbidding, the floor pebbly and quickly falling away to great depth, the other swimmers (all men, oddly enough) friendly and ready to either converse or ignore depending on your humor, and the water clear and salty. a covey of fishermen in ancient wooden boats were testing their luck just off shore, but no netfishing. i didn't even care if someone absconded with my bags (the real meat - my train ticket, alien residence card and atm card - were taped to the back of a picture in my hotel room and probably safe) but was pleasantly suprised to find it and the lifeguard-like fellow waiting upon my soggy return. i left to change and eat breakfast shortly after the kindly lifeguard inquired after my marital status. no need to go overboard with souvenirs, i believe.

sweet moses! sorry this entry is so long! i will finish later. in the dalian final edition: japanese food, haircuts, and a few things that haven't happened yet. also why i'm a bad travel companion.

thanks for hanging in there! as my aunt pat always says, "work hard, be happy, make friends."

a Peng by any other name . . .

the new public school year started recently and with it came about 200+ new students i am currently teaching. all of these students want an english name, and so i have been racking brains, web pages, cast lists and any oracles that will help me to complete this daunting task. since my capacity to read names using chinese characters is shaky at best, the homeroom teacher has been kind enough to provide a pinyin-ated listing for 100 of the 200 impatient tykes (all first graders), and i have been at it for the past week or so. most students have three names - the first is their family name followed by one or two given names. names are very important in chinese culture, so in picking a name one must be cognizant of the chinese name's sound and meaning and the english name's sound and meaning. for instance, the english teacher's name at ji che chang (my public school) is Nancy, and she told me that her name acquisition was originally met with hearty objections from her sister. Nancy sounds very much like "nan xi" which means southwest. her sister asked her why she didn't just name herself dongbei ("northeast"). another example (and sorry, Shea, but it must be told again) is Heather's laudable decision to be known as Shea. a lovely name in my estimation. however, it carried with it one small issue in that shea sounds exactly like "shui" which means "who" in chinese. so the first few days introducing her to marketowners and fellow teachers proved interesting, a sort of "who's on first, what's on second" feel. i'll give you a second to recreate the conversation in your mind's eye. "ta shi shea" (lit: she is who?). "wo bu zhidao" (lit: i don't know). "bu shi. ta shi shea" (see above). "wo gaosu ni le. wo bu renshi ta" (i told you, i don't know this woman). it was an interesting few days. i still catch myself in pockets of confusion about it, but i'm learning.

this all brings me to my request for help: i have 5 boys all with the given name Peng (sounds like pung with a rising tone) and i have no idea what to name them. so here is your big chance to name a child whom you don't have to put up with through adolescence. thoughts?

in hopes that you are well,
steph

long promised, now delivered

so here it is - the long-awaited (well, at least long promoted) story of the motorbike, followed by the russian-speaking chinese grandmother.

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS WITH VELOCITY
i acquired my second bike about a month ago after the first one had been stolen from my chicken-saturated hutong (this more or less means tiny street in chinese) in april and was again becoming accustomed to "riding euphoria". anyone who has ever tried to navigate a borderline anarchic road system such as new york, bangkok or china (to name a few) will readily appreciate the courage and detachment involved in bicycle navigation. so armored, i was returning from a swell swim and peddling to my heart's content around a roundabout (dastardly things) when a motorbike ripped around like hell on wheels and pounded into my poor unsuspecting front tire. i flew like a superhero and landed on my backpack (blessings be to towels and soggy suits) before i even saw the feller's shirttails whipping in the wind as he accelerated away. now i should not have taken offense. the ways of the chinese street are as yet still foreign to this waiguoren, and i should know better than to curl my fist in the air. but the fact that it was a BRAND SPANKIN' BIKE (i named it clyde), that he was most definitely going the wrong way around the intersection, that he sped up expressly to hit me and then didn't stop to see if i was alright really got my goat. and i don't even have a goat (though my neighbors do). the rest of the day was spent as a transformed me, from contented swimmer to anger ball. this feeling subsided as soon as i took my much-abused clyde to an able bike mechanic for a 20-minute overhaul. the fellow, like most bike mechanics in this area, have a set of tools and a chair or two. this guy had a deluxe setup, with added features such as large umbrella and two chairs for waiting customers. for 8 yuan (referred hereafter as kuai), he tightened my spokes, set my handlebars to rights, straightened my wheel, realigned my brakes and filled my tires. and clyde shone like my blue steed again. all was mended. ahhh!

THE ALLEGED RUSSIAN
as i become more and more acquainted with this wacky language of mandarin (aka hanyu aka putonghua aka zhongwen aka . . .) i understand more of what people say about me. as it happens, i am finding that everyone and his chicken, goat and donkey thinks i'm russian. considering jilin province is within a discus throw of russia, this is not an unwise assumption. and since most people over the age of 35 were compelled to study russian in school, some feel it a great opportunity to exercise their linguistic skills in my general direction. my ignorance of aforementioned language is met with disappointment or suprise, but in a few cases with blinking disbelief. and so it happened one evening that my friend, michelle, and i strolled into a store ("shangdian") with every intention of buying chocolate. during our perusal, i noticed an elderly woman staring at the two of us, and once she caught my eye she started touching my arm and spattering off a line of speak that met my ears as jibberish. it took a few solid seconds to realize she was speaking russian. no matter how hard i tried to tell her that i'm american, not russian, she would not stop. her daughter behind the counter even joined my plea to dispense with russian, but she was not budging. i felt so ashamed that i had not spent more time trying to learn russian from stacie or my brother, but i figured that regardless of my desire to communicate, the few words and phrases known to me (hello, how are you, out the window there's a church choir) would be of little sustained use to a woman bent on lengthy communication. and so i left the store bereft of chocolate and with a greater sense of how very much in this life i have to learn.

anyway, that's the news from here. sorry for the length, hope you slogged through, and thanks again to those of you who have been reading this! so marvy to know that my meanderings aren't sputnik. as perhaps can be seen, i have realigned my last email to its true temporal state.

mood indigo

yesterday was marked by two special occasions - the chinese moon festival and Shea's (aka Heather Springer's) birthday. the moon festival (and please correct me if i'm wrong, those of you more heavily knowledgeable of chinese culture) is a holiday in which families reunite, eat a lot, and watch the moon at its fullest. the big delicacy at this time is mooncakes, which are thick pastries stuffed to the hilt with gooey sweet . . . goo. a few friends and i decided that mooncakes would make great trail food and we should remember to bring some hiking with us if we can only get our hands on them between festivals. of course, this is all assuming that they don't turned into the hardened oversized hockey pucks i envision given a week of air and mysterious nonpreservative evolution. mooncakes could become the basis for the next in a long line of extreme olympic sports, and i wonder if i could make a suggestion to the 2008 beijing committee to this purpose. can you buy stock in chinese companies? i put all my money in pastry manufacturers. all 200 yuan of it.

Shea enjoyed one of the two main birthday traditions it has been my pleasure to witness here in china, and that is the Candle That Never Ends. it is a plastic version of a lotus flower that, when stuck on a huge white cake and lit in the middle, opens up into numerous candle-festooned petals. there is then a flash in the middle and "happy birthday" squealed eternally and excrutiatingly. this ear-rending natal salutation is powered by a battery that could solve the energy crisis. you can imagine why birthdays are so memorable here. the other long-lived tradition to which our dear shea was not subjected was the birthday noodle, a torturously long and truck-lane wide noodle that could be used to repave broadway. it is supposedly bad luck to break the noodle while eating, but i have as yet only seen one person slurp the whole thing down. either good luck is not dependant on the birthday noodle, or only one person within my circle of friends lives untouchable.

golly, what else has happened recently? since i'm not sure if anyone will ever read this, i feel as though any typed meanderings will just find themselves spiralling through an unobserved vacuum like sputnik. i have daydreams of neal stephenson randomly finding my prosed spacejunk and going "hmmmm . . . interesting." if you're reading this, neal, i loved "zodiac".
i promised i would talk about the russian-speaking chinese woman and being run over by a motorbike, but i would rather close this entry with last night's phonecall. i get numerous phonecalls from people trying to contact my landlord. last night's was the most rigorous and loquatious (sp?) of all the inquirers, and i thought it was because i was tired and dressed in my sarong pajamas and reading "the diamond age" again (another neal stephenson reference) and therefore not prone to discussion. but as it turns out he kept talking because he thought i was chinese! he must have been REALLY tired or been kind of gone on baijiu not to notice my tendency to ask him to repeat everything he said, but i took it as a compliment anyway. right before i dozed off with the beautiful girl in the moon to watch over me.

that's all from me. hope all is well with you.

a first note

so here it is, my latest attempt in some form of communication along the vast expanse between fiesty, far-away friends and family. thanks to Heather Springer, hereafter known as Shea, who provided herself as a writing role model and journal inroduct (if this wasn't a word before, it sure as hell is now).
in coming editions: the motorbike that ran me over, the woman who could not accept the fact that we were not russian, and the homing donkey fro mei he kou. mahjiong stories and hard sleeper tales. hope you all enjoy.