No fortune cookies in the land of good fortune

Beijing - I was disappointed to find there are no fortune cookies here. I was duped after hundreds of Chinese food deliveries in the US to expecting those as an integral part of the meal. Over dinner Monday night, Erin says she's done some research into this important issue. She says the fortune cookie is an Asian-American invention. It was invented by a Japanese restaurateur in San Francisco. The concept was appropriated by an enterprising Chinese restaurateur during WWII internment of Japanese Americans. Christina, who was born in China but grew up in San Francisco, doesn't like this theory. She says it was a Chinese fortune teller / baker who invented the fortune cookie.  He would write peoples fortunes and one day they accidentally fell into the batter and became part of the cookie.   

So I had to google for the "true story" and found an entry on Wikipedia (which as a friend told me recently is the people's victory over the tyranny of fact):   http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fortune_cookie

"Confucius say he who write blog about fortune cookie have too much spare time."  Maybe so, but you have to admit you read this. 

Blonde in the land of two billion brunettes

So... those of you who remember the tragic $13 Guatemala haircut of February 07 (aka "the shearing") will be surprised (or maybe not) that I have attempted to get my hair done here in Beijing, in a country of billions of brunettes.  But I asked another blonde (my French-Australian friend Frederique) where she got her hair done and she referred me to the not-so-French sounding "Eric of Paris" (maybe it's Paris, Texas).  She has pretty hair and she's French and aren't they famous for haircare? 

 

Well, I went in September and even though I don't think anyone in there has ever even been to Paris, I got a lovely highlight touch-up (I tell my new friends here that I'm lowering my IQ - they think that environmental automatically means cerebral, ie not fun) head massage, hair cut and blowdry, all for the very French price of $140.  But my hair looked fabulous as I went grocery shopping.

 

So, why wouldn't I go back to get a little shine before the holidays?  I'll tell you why not.  I'm in the land of two billion brunettes and they must think that making my blonde highlights look "natural" is an oxymoron.  Nobody should be blonde.  It's just wrong.  I went in Sunday and my hair "consultant" tells me, my hair "look too orange" and he will help to make it look more like my natural color.  Well OBVIOUSLY my natural color is blonde.  That's what I was born with and that's what I'm sticking with, dammit.  I think, cool, I'm okay with it looking less orange and just more awesome.  Bring it on.  

 

They done brought it.  After an hour of tinfoil and what I assumed was blondifier, I sat for another 30 minutes (and read half of Tina Brown's enormous and surprisingly trashy Princess Di bio).   Then I got a nice shampoo, head & neck massage, and sat back in the chair.  The towel came off.  My jaw dropped.  My eyes teared up.  I thought to myself, it's just because it's wet, wait til they dry it a little.  Then finally I had to let it out - "IT'S TOO DARK!"   He kept drying and poofing this alien hair that had attached itself to my head.  "No, it's just more natural.  Not orange."   "But I'm a BLONDE - I just wanted highlights to be MORE BLONDE.  I don't want to look 'natural' - I could do THAT for free."   Okay, I'm putting thoughts in this guy's head, but he seemed to take a perverse pleasure in taking me to different parts of the salon where there was more natural light, showing me in a hand-held mirror "it looks more natural now." 

 

I didn't want to leave.  I knew it would be embarrassing to go to work.  I knew my mother would hate it.  But by that point I had been there for 4 hours.  And I was afraid to fry my hair.  And I was really hungry for a burrito.  He said I should wait a couple days but I could come back if I didn't like it.   How much for this awful color job and instant depression, you ask?  Only $191.  Ack.  That is more than I spend on my hair in a year in Atlanta.  (I am a big fan of Hair Cuttery.  Peroxide, scissors, and no appointment required.)

 

After walking around like a turtle for much of the day at work on Monday, I just couldn't get back to the salon fast enough.  When I called to make sure Mr. Natural would be there to fix me the receptionist laughed: "I remember you!"  I spent another hour and a half chez Eric, much of it with my neck bent at that improbable angle it can only assume in a salon sink as one of the the junior non-French guys muscled anti-natural into my hair.  Dizzy and anxious, I closed my eyes when the towel came off.  I opened them and had to laugh. 

 

The alien hair was now a beautiful shade of palest orange.  The land of two billion brunettes got their revenge.

 

Whatever.  It's a version of blonde. A little less strawberry blonde, and a little more Orange Julius blonde.

Happy Thanksgiving

I'm spending Thanksgiving at work.  The pilgrims didn't land in China.  I'm sorry I couldn't be with my family (celebrating at my sister's place in Connecticut), but to uphold a family tradition, I am providing my list of what I am thankful for:
 
- I am thankful that I have a family and friends who are supportive of the weird things I like to do - like take off for China for a year 
- I am thankful for the technology that makes it much easier to keep in touch affordably.
- Thanks also for built in grand-dog sitting (by my parents) on a grand scale - I know she is loved and cared for (except by one mean cat)
- I am thankful that I have fun, smart co-workers both here and at CARE
- I am thankful for my nice comfortable safe apartment with hot water and heat and a comfortable bed and a flushing toilet.  Many people in the world do not have any of this.

- I am thankful for all the yummy food and for easy access to the gym that I will be using to offset it.
- I am particularly thankful for the long warm coat I bought yesterday in the outlet store in the bottom of my building - it even has a hood!  I wore it to work today (4 degrees C; 39 F) and it was too warm!  

See you all in a few weeks!

Transportation in Beijing

Beijing - Since I have not built up the courage to buy a bicycle (partly I'm afraid to ride it but mostly I am afraid of the actual purchasing process), I walk to and from work and do most of my errands on foot.  Beijing has wide busy streets and 1000 new cars (with new drivers) on the already massively crowded roads each day.  The city government provides highly effective safety measure for pedestrians: flag men and women at crosswalks.  These dedicated public safety professionals risk life and limb by standing in the middle of the intersections waving tiny tattered red flags and maintaining they delusion that they have control over pedestrians and cars.

Speaking of being nearly run over, every city has its taxi culture.  Here, every taxi smells like it's culturing something.  The city government has recently provided rules for taxi drivers in preparation for the Olympics that include (seriously) - 1)  Change your clothes every day; 2) don't eat so much garlic 3) no smoking in the cab.  They are insanely cheap (about $1 for trips up to 20 minutes long) and maybe a little insane, too.  Although most drivers here appear have a sense of invincibility.  I'm actually surprised I don't see more accidents.

I must preface this part by saying that I have mastered the subway systems in DC, Boston and New York (oh yeah, and Atlanta's 8 stops).  So when K suggested we try the subway on China National Day (the most crowded day of the year in Beijing, I mildly point out), I was reluctant but game. Subway maps are universally easy to read, right?  He has figured out on our map that there is a subway stop near my place. So we pay the 10 cents for the paper tickets and find our way down to the platform - step 1 accomplished!  We squeeze into the human sardine can and ride a couple stops to where we change trains.  

Someone gives us a nice map that shows clearly the purple line.  We point at this to a few official looking people and they shake their heads, which we interpret as the universal gesture for "oh, it's probably right over there".  We wander upstairs and down a corridor, looking for maps, signs, or helpful people.  Finally, as we are wearing the the univerally known expression for "help we are lost tourists and/or complete idiots", a kindly person says "that line doesn't exist."  We show her the official map.  Her shrug is the universal gesture meaning "please leave me alone, I did not make that map." [note: I found out later that the line is under construction.  The map was optimistic.]

This is a city of many bicycles, which is great.  There are even bicycle parking lots.  Bicycle riders are also invincible.  The neat thing is that you can ride your bicycle on the sidewalk, or the wrong way down the street.   I just saw a news show that said many cities in the South are banning electric bicycles.  Evidently they are silent AND deadly. 

There are buses everywhere and many of them stop right outside my apartment building, but I am too scared to try one - I don't know where they go or how to find out.

And a note on queuing for airplanes - the only thing I have to say about this is that they must think that queuing means "form the shape of a Q."   A mob forms at the based of the stairs to the airplane (for domestic flights), despite the fact that we all have assigned seats.  I can't really complain, because (I don't know why) I jump in the middle of it.

Interesting meals in China

Anhui & Beijing - Ladies and Gentleman -  just got back from a leadership retreat and had some fantastic food including mongolian hot pot and BBQ.  I must say I really do like the traditional food in general, unfortunately so much that I'm feeling a little Buddha-like. And the whole thing about being hungry 15 minutes afterward is just plain wrong.  I don't think I've been hungry since I moved here.

After visiting Anhui province, I was treated to three special meals by our hosts.  The variety and amount of food was impressive, as was the number of toasts - even at lunch there were more than any wedding I've been to.  I was encouraged to eat (and did, sadly) well more than my stomach could hold.  Must make up for the big meals with some light fare in the next few days or I will look like Buddha.

 

Lunch at the Shouzou Hotel in Co (pronounced tso) county (about 3 hours outside Hefei, the capital city of Anhui Province) had several dishes familiar to (U.S.) southerners:

chunks of yams cooked in sugar - yum

hunks of corn on the cob - couldn't figure out how to pick up with chopsticks

what appeared to be leaves of a tree or flower - yum, tasted like fried green onions

chunks of chicken served with the feet and head  - okay but bony and hard to eat

sizzling dog - did not eat

boiled peanuts - good, not slimy like the ones I've had in Georgia

slices of lotus root - good, kind of like a potato

tiny river shrimps (whole, with heads & skins) served with sliced hot peppers - yum

soup with bean sprouts & translucent dumplings - yum

collard greens - eh

sweet yogurt to drink - good but filling

Chinese wine (more like moonshine) - one sip was enough to sterilize my stomach lining - I was able to avoid drinking the whole glass they poured me but probably caused offense.

rice at the end of the meal - no room

 

And now for the tofu (do fu), which my hosts explained was invented in Co County:

chunks of soft tofu with greens - good

tofu "ribs" with spicy sauce - yum

tofu dumplings - yum, but slippery and hard to eat with chopsticks

tofu strips with sticklike green veggies - good, tofu tasted like mushrooms

and STINKY tofu - advertised appropriately.  I tried a tiny bit, but didn't like it

 

Breakfast was a buffet of many of the same items, plus noodles, boiled eggs, and cooked chunks of acorn squash.

 

Dinner in Hefei at a famous hot pot place called Shung Fu.

We cooked thin rolls of beef

chunks of chicken (served w head and feet)

spinach

parsley

some kind of organ meat

tofu skins

mushroom variety

 

Other dishes:

twisted buns (like flattened croissants)

spicy cucumber

chicken stomach with peppers

 

Washed down with Snow beer (managed to have one glass), tea. more toasts than a wedding.

 

Lunch in Tao Lou -

eel (with bones) - okay, hard to eat

chicken with feet, head, & liver - okay but hard to eat (bony)

salty duck (including the bill & bones) - a little too salty

soy beansprouts - excellent

pumpkin 'pie' (fried patty with bean paste in middle) - yum

rice balls - very good, ate several of them

whole fish with peppers - good but it ended up on the wrong side of the lazy susan so I only got one bite

tofu w greens - good 

winter melon sauteed in soy sauce? - okay but would probably be better fresh

tripe w peppers - did not try this time

pig foot - tried to eat but wasn't much to it

spicy cucumber chunks - yum

sizzling dog into which they tip noodles and greens near the end of the meal - again, avoided this dish

Washed down with oj, hot tea, warm coca cola, or yogurt drink. (I chose the orange drink today

Thoughts on the road in Anhui

Anhui - We are 2.5 hrs outside Hefei (capital city of Anhui Province, China).  I am joining consultants Y.T. and Dr. X on a visit to three rural schools as part of a feasibility study for the upcoming water in schools program.   I am intuiting the rules of the road.

The roads are decent but pocked in places.  Development reaches even this far from the city.  As we get close to one of the schools we cross an enormous area that has been carved out for a new road.  Lane choice is optional and constantly changing.  Rule #1 (I imagine) is DON'T BE PREDICTABLE. 

We zoom by dogs, ducks, goats, chickens, and people, many of whom, upon appearance of our vehicle, have a sudden and seemingly random urge to cross the road. Oh my god oh my god I can't look oh my god phew we missed them.  Rule #2 NEVER SLOW DOWN. 

We zip past cotton fields and narrowly pass tiny trucks overloaded with open bags of cotton. Rule #3 NEVER BE BEHIND ANYONE.  Of course this applies to all drivers and somebody has to be the last one on the road.  Some of the cotton blows out creating the illusion of snow flurries. A song comes to mind, "Away down south in land of cotton. ..." and oddly old times here are NOT forgotten.  Look away, look away, look away to - " - holy CRAP there is a person in the middle of the road - where was I? 

Although it was warm in Anhui, it is colder here than I expected (18c), and foggy.

Although it is a Sunday night, we stop at Tuan Ja middle and primary school, which has 700 students. This school is 30 to 40 yrs old. 100 live here, and several of them are lined up at a faucet coming out of the wall with buckets.  Although they only get water at certain times - once in the morning and once at night (sometimes it doesn't come, we are told) - coincidentally we show up right at water time.  This water comes from a local well and can only be used for washing. The 7 meter deep well was paid for (and installed by?) the government. Deep groundwater is supposed to be safer. 

They buy bottled water for drinking (the big bottles, aka bubblers). The school has a budget to pay for the bottled water. The school administrator says that students don't get sick because they are drinking bottled water (c'mon, didn't you eat paste a few times as a kid?). But I wonder.  Being kids, some of them must drink the well water that is "only for washing."  Yes, they admit, that is true. 

Because I always have to check out the sanitation, I ask for the toilets.  The good news is they do have latrine facilities and they are gender separated.  While there is a roof, the buildings are open air, which allows for good ventilation (and flies).  The pits seem to just go into the ground. I ask who cleans them out - workers or the students clean together.  The bad news is there are no handwashing facilities nearby, or anwhere that I can see.  I ask what they think they need.  They would like to have a kitchen. Currently the students eat their meals with nearby families.

It's dark when we leave the school.  Although there are electric lines along the road, the homes are dark.  The Kenny G-like music doesn't relieve the adrenaline rush of high speed obstacle course driving. Rule #4 - PLAY THE MUSIC LOUD.  Ah, finally the Kenny G CD is finished and now...the soundtrack for Annoyo the Klown. At least the Buick (the popular car in China) is comfy.

Snacks are offered.  They are brownish and chewy. And a little salty.  "Thank you so much - what is it?" It's tea-flavored dried tofu.  Well of course.  

That night we have dinner with the local school deapartment representatives.  They ask, do I like alcohol (does it show?).  I say, "sure, a little" - thinking they might order some beer.  The waitress brings in a whole bottle of the scary firewater (tastes like moonshine) for our table of six.  Yikes.  Fortunately there is a tiny glass in front of each of us on the table.  The waitress pours a full serving - in the larger glass I assumed was for water.  "Gan Bei!" they chirp at me ("drink it all!").  I pour from the large glass into the small.  I take a small sip from the small glass.  My throat closes up.  My stomach revolts.  I smile and think they will let me off the hook.  Several more toasts ensue - "gan bei" (small sip)! "gan bei" (miniscule sip), "gan bei" (microscopic sip), "gan bei" (nanosip, tummy flip)...Unfortunately I can't really strike up a diverting conversation (hey, anybody know some dirty jokes?) since I don't know how to say anything more than "I like to eat tofu." RULE #5: JUST SAY NO. 

Driving the elevator

I may have already pointed out to some of you how interesting the elevators are here for the simple fact that many of them eliminate the 4th, 13th, and 14th (optional) floors.  I am curious whether those floors actually exist - barren, unlucky, and inaccessible. Maybe they are much smaller in height - kind of like the office space in "Being John Malkovich."  

Anyway, the point of this story is elevator culture.  To get to my office, I have to take a two-story escalator to the 3rd floor, then an elevator to the 12th floor (which could really be the 11th floor, since we're missing a 4th floor - stick with the math here, folks).  If I want to visit the 17th floor, where the other Coca-Cola office is, I can either take the elevator down to the 3rd floor and another bank of elevators up to the 17th floor, or take my lungs into my hands (does that make sense) and use the stairs to go up to the 17th floor.  This is actually only 3 flights of stairs because there are no (or hidden) 13th or 14th floors.  Which makes the 17th floor really the .... oh hell, I can't figure it out.  The stairwell is also, cleverly, the SMOKING lounge.  And boy do people take advantage of it.  I kind of like the contrast of the healthy people taking the stairs and the differently-healthed (unhealthy is probably un-PC these days) smoking their butts off.   So I arrive at meetings on the 17th floor wheezing not just from the stairs but also from holding my breath for three flights.

 

So, anyhoo, back to the elevators.  If you've ever seen video footage of the Japanese cramming onto subways, you'll get a sense of elevator culture here.  And the first person on helpfully pushes his/her floor and the CLOSE button as soon as possible.  Each following person also pushes the button for his/her floor and the CLOSE button.  So you really need to hustle.   I like to think of this as driving the elevator.  

Even though the doors close surprisingly soon (even on the rare occasions that you are the only person waiting on the elevator), each individual likes to feel the heady power of being IN CHARGE of where the elevator goes and how quickly.  I've even seen one person hit the CLOSE button on the way out of the elevator.  However, much like those who discover the joy of speed in a car hate to use the brakes, very few people like to push the OPEN door button, even when someone (for example, me) has one arm pinned between the jaws of death doors. 

 

People also like to pass the time waiting for the elevator making sure that the previous person waiting has correctly pressed the button requesting the elevator to arrive.  (My mother would call this "mashing" the button, but that's another cultural story.)  This is a phenomenon I have also experienced in busy cities like New York.  The city that never sleeps OR waits more than necessary for an elevator. 

 

The other phenomenon, and maybe this is just a different in the whole personal space thing, is that sometimes you are prevented from stepping off the elevator at your desired floor (whatever fake number it is) by the people entering the elevator.  Another phrase I would like to learn in Chinese is "if you let my big Western butt off this elevator there might be more room for you." 

 

And a last observation.  On the rare occasions there are just a few people on the elevator, they all face the walls.  Now you might think because they are trying to avert their eyes from the confusing list of numbers on the elevator buttons, but no, it's to check out how they look in the mirrors on the walls of the elevators.  I like that they are unashamed about checking their teeth after lunch or adjusting their pants.  I could learn from them.

 

Onwards and upwards.....

Blogging (and barf) in Beijing

Beijing - So, I've never blogged before, although I usually keep a journal when I travel.  So I'm not sure the kinds of things that people will find interesting.  Let me celebrate this week's successes:  received my official business cards; got a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) signed between UN organization and Mega-Corp. 

 

I've been walking to work and the weather the past couple weeks has been great.  Cool but not cold - blue skies, a little bit of a breeze.  Quite a pleasant change from the humid, hot days of August.  It takes me about 30 minutes to get to work.  Walking rather than taking a taxi serves a couple of purposes - one is that as Green Olympics Project Director, I don't want to contribute any more than I have to to the air pollution.  Of course I have to take taxis occasionally, but will try to learn about the subway and bus system so that I can reduce those occasions as well.  The other reason to walk, is, well, exercise!  As busy as I've been and will be, it's good to have some built in time to exercise.

 

During this hour each day I have learned the joy of the podcast.  I learn basic Chinese by listening to Chinesepod.com conversational language lessons.  Did you know that there is an innuendo meant by saying "I like to eat tofu?" (seriously - more on that in a future blog).   I catch up on the news with NPR podcasts - Driveway Moments, At Your Leisure, and Fresh Air.  I can also catch up on my reading with fiction from the New Yorker, and classics (Mom, you would LOVE these).  There's even 60-second Psych to keep me mentally balanced (did you know that women around the world prefer pinkish shades? fascinating). 

 

When I get home I can make a phone call or two using Skype (my apartment has high-speed internet) and bum out watching satellite TV (Discovery, National Geographic, CNN, ESPN, Star, Cinemax, AXN, BBC are in English). 

 

A biological note on Beijing.  I was told before I came that there was a lot of spitting here.  There is not nearly as much spitting as I was led to expect - perhaps it's more frequent in the countryside.  However, I HAVE noticed a lot of barf.  Some days I see two barf occurences.  One day I even saw barf in the middle of a crosswalk.    So far the barf epidemic is unexplained to me.  Perhaps because I don't yet know how to ask in Chinese "what's the deal with the barf?"