The Day of the Dead

Lyndsey's Strange but True Sightings:

1. Last night I had an interesting cultural exchange with my room mate, Sharon. I opened her eyes to the "country culture" of the US. Yes, that's right. I told her about rednecks. I can now proudly claim that I have spread my Midwestern culture by introducing the Chinese to words such as "redneck," "white trash," "cracker," "tractor pull," "WWF," "Indy 500," "trailer park," and, Sharon's new favorite, "monster truck rally." We also got to view a colorful sample of heavy metal music and country ballads, including the all-time best "She Thinks my Tractor's Sexy." Thank you, iTunes. To drive home the significance and implications of redneck glory, we also surfed Google for some visual aids. Let me tell you, there was nothing funnier than seeing her gawk over a "redneck swimming pool" - a pickup truck that had been filled with water in the back - and try to determine exactly what constituted a mullet (Sharon also now loves the phrase "party in the front, business in the back."). Priceless.

Last week was a Chinese holiday, Qingming Jie. Literally meaning "pure brightness festival," this holiday is one of the kick-offs for the spring season. Usually after the holiday passes, the temperature starts to get warmer and the weather becomes nicer. Most notably, though, is the second name for Qingming Jie, "grave sweeping day." Traditionally, families go to the graves of their loved ones and sweep and clean the tombs. Often flowers and fruit are also left on the grave, and, depending on how traditional the family is, family members may sit and share a meal with their departed loved ones. Such snacks usually include small cakes, fruit, some meats, and, of course, baijiu, the Chinese version of moonshine. Incense is sometimes burned as well. 

The holiday snuck up on me and I didn't find out that it had arrived until my teacher mentioned it in class. Intrigued, once class let out I found Sharon and drilled her about the holiday. Now, Beijing is a very large city and it's extremely crowded, which doesn't make it the best place to host graveyards. When I asked Sharon about it, she spoke of a large, public graveyard not too far away from the university called Babaoshan. What the hell, I thought, I've got nothing else better to do. So, I hopped in a cab and let my driver lead the way. 

The drive wasn't far, but it was long enough that I got to ask my driver some questions about Qingming Jie. It's a national holiday, so everyone gets the day off. However, lots of people living in Beijing have migrated from other cities and provinces, meaning that their families aren't buried in the city limits. So, lots of Beijingers don't celebrate the holiday since there isn't enough time to travel home to their relatives' graves. Those who are native to the city usually celebrate in the morning or the afternoon.

"Why don't they go in the evening?"

My driver turned and looked at me. "Would you want to be in a graveyard at night?"

"...good point."

Now, there are a lot of things in Beijing that aren't technical tourist sites, but are great places to visit. However, since they are not official landmarks, the procedure and requirements for entering can be a bit fuzzy. Sometimes a standard is held and entrance is regularly denied or allowed; sometimes it all depends on the competence and mood of the guard at the door at the time; sometimes no one has the foggiest idea and anything goes. In all the above cases, we expats have a great approach policy: walk straight through the entrance with your head held high as if you were expected and had a purpose. Don't speak Chinese, don't make eye contact, and, if someone starts to say something to you, KEEP WALKING. Usually this works very well. Chinese guards are usually pretty informal and don't feel like dealing with a non-Chinese speaker. After making a brief attempt to stop you, they usually give up and don't think it's worth the hassle. If you REALLY aren't supposed to be there, though, they will come after you and then you do actually have to leave. So, when I arrived at Babaoshan, I just waltzed my way in. 

Now, for those who are familiar with me and my mother's side of the family, you'll know that we have many quirks, one morbid one in particular being our hobby of grave-hopping. For some reason, we find grave sites to be rather, well, cool. Don't ask me why. So, it shouldn't be surprising that I had a blast at Babaoshan. I had a great time strolling between the graves and looking at all the tombstones. Overall, they were rather different than those you'd find in the US. I was surprised to see that many people were actually buried in the ground, something that I thought was illegal in China. Given the large population, there simply isn't enough room to burry the dead. This is a bit of a problem for those who follow traditional practices, which dictate that bodies must be buried in an area with favorable feng shui in order to appease the deceased's ghost. Hence, it's not uncommon for rural dwellers to secretly bury their family members in open plots of land and hope that developers don't raze the area for high rise apartments later. I later discovered that in Babaoshan, the fact that individuals were buried was a sign of great resect and only those of high social, and often political, standing could afford this luxury. The graves were much narrower, however, since the dead were usually first cremated and then buried.  Spouses were usually buried together with the one to passed away first receiving the larger, primary headstone. Once their husband or wife passed away, they received a smaller stone in front of the larger one. On the back of most graves was a epitaph describing the deceased, their profession, the major events in their lives, and their birth and death dates. Most had  a photo of the deceased on front. The headstones themselves varied in shape, style, and size. Some were huge monoliths, others were more traditional, others were very abstract and modern, looking very Western and out of place. There were even some Westerners deemed to be "friends of China" that were buried inside the graveyard as well. 

Towards the center of the graveyard was a crematorium, which of course I just had to see. I'd never been in a crematorium before, and I was curious enough as it was. So, I whipped out my usual "march in and conquer" strategy...only to smack strait into a friendly, but firm guard.

"I'm sorry miss, but this area is off limits and is not for visiting."

Now normally this is where you count your losses, turn around, and go home, but before I could stop myself...

"Oh, me? Oh I'm not visiting." 

"..You're not?"

"Of course not. I'm here to celebrate the holiday. I'm living with a Chinese homestay family and they invited me to help them take care of our grandfather's grave today. They thought it would be a great opportunity to better understand Chinese culture. However, since I'm foreign and didn't get the day off from school like most Chinese college students do, I couldn't arrive here with them. I just got out of class and am trying to find them. They're inside waiting for me. Could you let me in please? They can't start taking care of grandpa without me."

100% solid, high-grade bullshit. Something else I've inherited from my mother's family is the ability to crank out on-the-spot excuses that usually let me weasel past blockades and guards. It's a gift, really. I could tell the guy was still a bit skeptical, which was probably due to the fact that I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Not exactly the most typical mourning clothes, but the guard still conceded. Pointing to the left, he said I could find an entrance and walk in. Bingo. So, I strolled over, found a door with an idle guard that wasn't paying much attention, and slinked through the doorway. 

The crematorium was really fascinating. There were rows and rows of black marble plaques etched with the deceased face, the birth and death dates, and a couple short descriptions of the person's life. Usually there were also some decorative designs, such as flowers, mountains, clouds, cranes, and the communist sickle and hammer. 

On that note, I thought it was particularly strange how many graves I was encountering with communist symbols etched onto the headstone. Often it was a large, prominent red star. Other times it was the typical sickle and hammer. My suspicion mounted as I began to see more and more stones that had the characters "同志," meaning "comrade" in English. This term is most often heard when soldiers refer to the Red Guards or those that served in Mao's army during the Long March heydays. Even stranger was the apparent heavy presence of PLA soldiers at the graveyard. Why was the army and police force patrolling a graveyard? I wondered. Later when I got back to campus and did some research, I realized what all of the symbols meant and the overall significance of Babaoshan. I nearly choked.

According to the findings I came across later, Babaoshan is the equivalent of our Arlington National Cemetery. Not just anyone could be buried inside. First, you had to go through an approval process and receive permission to receive a grave. Permission was only granted to high ranking CCP party members, soldiers, revolutionary heros, and maybe some VERY pro-China, prominent foreigners. No exceptions. This meant that some of China's most famous historical figures and leaders were buried at Babaoshan. In other words, it wasn't your average cemetery (click here for more). 

To be honest, I'm really, really surprised I wasn't thrown out of Babaoshan as soon I stepped within the grounds. The CCP is remarkably touchy about two things: political landmarks and dates of revolts and uprising. Celebrating Qingming Jie at Babaoshan combined both.

Symbolism is everything in China, and is always taken extremely seriously. So, when an act of political violence or heavy significance occurs, from that date onward there is a strong military presence to make sure that a) there is not a repeat occurrence, b) no one uses the symbolism of the date to promote an insubordinate ideology that goes against CCP approval, c) foreigners stay away and can't witness any possible violence or talk to native Chinese, or d) all the above. During a past Qingming Jie, mourners gathered to mourn the recent passing of former Premier Zhou Enlai. The sheer number and passionate nature of the mourners was seen as a criticism against Mao, and so the next day all the offerings and flowers were swept away. The people were outraged and lashed out against the government, resulting in arrests and violence (click here for a better, more detailed description). As a result, the government becomes relatively nervous whenever Qingming Jie comes around. Their nervousness is compounded by the nature of 2009 in general, which is riddled with politically sensitive anniversaries. Unfortunately, this sense of anxiety is often prematurely acted upon, resulting in more violence caused by local governments. Evidence of this fact is seen in the recent case of Sun Wenguang. 

A 75 year-old retired professor, Sun was known for being a supporter of the late Zhao Ziyang, a former CCP prime minister and general secretary, who was sympathetic of the demonstrators present at Tiananmen. As a result, Zhao's name is considered a taboo and he is never acknowledged by the press as even being a former leader of China. Although Sun has visited the grave every Qingming Jie since Zhao's death in 2005 with little hassle, 2009 marks the 20th anniversary of a certain event occurring in Tiananmen. This year Sun was beaten by five thugs hired by the local government, resulting in three broken ribs and a trip to the hospital. Like I said, never underestimate the power of symbolism in China. So, you combine the slightly turbulent history surrounding Qingming Jie, the political nature of Babaoshan in general, plus the fact that I'm a foreigner and you get something that would make most guards, soldiers, and government officials very, very, nervous. 

Now before you throw up your hands and scream at me for putting myself in this situation I want to make a defense. First off, it's rare that violence comes about as a result of such situations, and when it does it's usually done by the local government in less prominent areas (ie: not Beijing). Second, when it does happen it's VERY rarely against foreigners. Arrest, while a possibility, is also rare. Generally speaking the worst that will happen is that you will be promptly escorted away from the area and your camera will get snatched. You see, the CCP isn't stupid. They know that arresting foreigners and interrogating them attracts much more negative attention and criticism abroad. The easiest solution, and the quietest one at that, is simply to boot people out and carefully restrict entrance. That's not to say that you should go messing around with the PLA and CCP. They can and they will cart you off if you push the right buttons, but generally that takes a very serious, special kind of series of circumstances for that to happen. Me going to Babaoshan at Qingming Jie was not one of those. 

In regards to the actual holiday, Babaoshan was a perfect place to see how the Chinese celebrated the holiday. Flowers were strewn along the head stones, bouquets were placed on top of the tombs, and baskets of flowers and potted plants lined the grave sites. Sometimes offerings of food, typically pastries and fruit were offered as well along with sticks of incense and bottles of alcohol. Such offerings were relatively rare at Babaoshan, probably due to the graveyard's political nature. Generally speaking the CCP frowns upon traditional folklore and religious practices, meaning that such offerings probably wouldn't be common at a government gravesite. I also watched at a distance as family members carefully swept dust and debris off of the tombs and washed the ground with water. The crematorium also received attention. Often the plaques were surrounded with flowers, both real and fake, and sometimes little trays would be placed in front with offerings of food. Apples, clementines, nuts, and pastries were most commonly given. Sometimes notes and letters would also be tacked on as well. 

For those of you wanting to know more, I encourage you to visit my Facebook. I was sneaky and managed to take some photos of the graves. I had to be careful, though, since I didn't want to get thrown out. So, there aren't too many for you to look at and the quality isn't the best. I also didn't take any photos of people actually celebrating the holiday. I didn't want to disturb or disrespect anyone, so I just centered my photo taking on the graves themselves. 

Enjoy!

Tongwu lovin'

Quick rundown of my recent shenanigans:

Well, I'm off again. Today at 7:00 I head out with my classmates to go to Changchun for our long weekend vacation. I know, it seems like I just got back from my last vacation. At least, that's what it feels like to me. I'll return early Monday morning just in time for class. Lucky me :). 

This week has been both busy and fun for me. We just finished all of our midterms, and I'm happy to say that I survived and am still breathing after trudging through my Chinese, history, and film exams. When I wasn't cramming, I managed to, you know, be social. There was a mahjong tutorial in the library that I attended, and I can now proudly say that I have graduated from the online version and can now play with actual tiles. There was also some late night talks with my roommate, some movie watching and Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathons (don't you dare judge me), and some hutong wandering with my history class and with two friends on a separate occasion. So far the most interesting event has proven to be the lunch date I had with three Ugyhurs this past Saturday. Katrina met them in the typical friend-making style here in China: both parties ride a bus, they start chatting chatting, there are lots of smiles, and eventually some phone number swapping ensues. Then, a couple of days later it's waala! A text inviting you and some friends out for food. Katrina had me tag along, and together we and Sebastian met up with her three new friends, Aile, Aike, and Asanjia outside the Peking zoo. All three were guys and were the same age as us, although like most typical Ughurs, they looked at least ten years older. They took us to the Xinjiang Ugyhur embassy, which was surrounded by some of the best and most authentic Xinjiang restaurants in all of Beijing. We got a small room and sat, ate, and chatted for four hours. It was an awesome experience. Aile, Aike, and Asanjia were all originally from a small farming village in Xinjiang and, like us, Mandarin was a foreign language to them. We had such a great time enjoying each other's company and exchanging cultures that they insisted on paying the bill for us. In return, we've promised to treat them to pizza this next week. 

Now, I have yet to really tell you about my roommate, Sharon (her real name is Zhu Shaoling). I first met Sharon last semester during our Halloween party. It was a very brief encounter and the two of us along with a larger group of friends went to a bar for some fun. I talked with her a bit and thought she seemed nice, but mostly I was just struck by the fact that she was actually going out. 

College life is very different for Chinese students than for American students. In general, Americans live by the creed "Work hard, play hard." We blast through our work and crank out the productivity during the week, but once Friday hits, we blow it all and party hardy. Once our mental slate has been sufficiently wiped clean, come Monday we start all over with a fresh perspective. Chinese students would never do this. In fact, once I actually had to give a small lecture on the actual meaning of "work hard, play hard" to some Chinese students since they had no idea what the meaning was. Their college life is very work-centered. Most college students, especially if they are in a prominent university, devote their time completely to their studies and rarely leave the dorms, libraries, and campuses. This is why I was so surprised to see Sharon leaving with us on a weeknight, ready for drinking and frivolities. She was quite the social butterfly, dancing from here to there laughing and chatting the whole time. So, when I decided to live in the dorm this semester and got to request my roommate, I knew there could only be one. Sharon. 

Thanks to a smile of good fortune and some strategic hinting, bribing, and pleading on my part, Sharon did actually become my roommate. She is quite the little adventurer and loves to go out and try new things. I already wrote about how she went and skied, bowled, and listened to jazz for the first time with me. She has a list of dance clubs she likes to frequent and likes to go out for some night fun when she has the time. She's also recounted her dream of becoming a hobo and hitchhiking across the world. I suggested that, on the sake of practicality and hygiene, she settle for something along the lines of backpacking instead. I also discovered that she's also quite the little brainiac. Sharon is my age, but she's already a senior since she skipped two grades. Her major is American studies and she plans to go on to grad school and hopefully work as a foreign correspondent. Given her knack for languages and personal charm, I don't think it'll be hard for her to do. She can speak Chinese and English and is also learning French and Japanese. If I had to describe her to someone, I'd tell them to just look at her bookshelf. Next to the stacks of English grammar books, travel guides, French literature, and Chinese textbooks is a mini Absolute Vodka bottle. Priceless. 

I love talking to Sharon. She has a unique outlook on quite a few subjects and is very well informed. And by informed, I don't mean informed in the sense the CCP wishes to inform its current youth. One night she had a nice vent on how she was very disappointed with Chinese media and was jealous of the media system back in the US. Not exactly a politically correct point of view. One of our favorite pastimes is to teach each other slang. I now have a very sizable stock of Chinese street words, which range from the mildly colorful to the cute to the blatantly inappropriate. I won't state them here since the Chinese censorship firewall is quite good at blocking anything profane, so I'll just share what I've taught Sharon so far:

1. Space cadet, air head, feather head, head in the clouds
2. Fairy, queen, fruit cake, lesbo, queer, fruity, flamer (we had a discussion on homosexual culture in China, in case you can't tell)
3. book worm
4. page-turner
5. stubborn as a mule
6. sexile, eye candy
7. green horn, newbie 
8. five second ule
9. and many, many more...

Here's a funny moments in the room: 

"Here, Lyndsey, try this candy. It's really good and fruity!'" 

"Oh, ok. What kind of candy is it?"

"Hmm...I think you might call it *switches to English* a 'gummie'?"

"Oh, ok thanks Sharon!"

*5 minutes later*

"Eh?! Lyndsey, where did your 'gummies' go?"

"I ate them, like you told me to."

"...you what?"

"I ate them."

"You swallowed them?!"

"...uh, yea."

"Oh no! You're not supposed to swallow 'gummies'! You're just supposed to chew them!"

"...Sharon, by 'gummies' did you actually mean 'gum'?"

"They're not the same?"

"..."

Well, I've got to be off! I'll be back soon! 

The laowai returns! At last!

Lyndsey’s Strange but True Sightings:

1. If you go to a Coldstone in China, you can get black sesame or red bean flavored ice cream.
   
2. Something that’s increasingly popular in China is the 书巴,or literally “book bar.” These cafes and bars have a very “literary” feel to them and almost appear to be libraries. The walls are lined with bookshelves, and usually members of the café can rent books as if it were an actual library. Overall, they’re very popular with business people, and you’ll often see people working there with their laptops and conducting interviews.
   
3. The Chinese do not flush toilet paper down the toilet. Instead, it’s discarded in a nearby wastebasket. My Chinese teacher discovered this fact when we had a class discussion concerning the differences between American and Chinese habits. She was quite shocked when she found out we flush our paper. In fact, at first she didn’t even believe us. 
   

You don’t have to say it. I’ve been a horrible, negligent blogger. I know, I know. I’ll spare you the excuses of being busy, of having tests and presentations, and of a lack of initiative. MOVING ON…How about I give an update to the things I’ve been up to lately?

Life has taken on a fairly regular pattern here in Beijing. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday I have Chinese class, which as you know lasts for four hours each day. In a large class of about 10-15 students, the lessons from the text are presented in a general fashion. It usually lasts about an hour and a half, followed by a short break and then our small class. The small class has just six students, lasts for a little under three hours, and so is far more personal. We go over each sentence structure in detail, coming up with examples and speaking on the spot. Usually there is also some form of large, group activity at the end that lets us all participate. For example, when our text’s theme turned to law terms, we had to create a mock court case and conduct the trial in Chinese. Tuesday and Thursdays are my favorite days because that’s when I can go to history class. So far we’ve covered the end of the Qing, the efforts of Sun Yatsen, the policies of Chiang Kaishek, the Chinese Civil War and WWII, and now the rise of the CCP and Mao Zedong, making for a good stopping point to prepare for our midterms next week. I really can’t say enough about my teacher, Jeremiah. My friends know that when they can’t find me, the first place they should look is probably Jeremiah’s office. During his office hours I set up camp in a chair and just talk about anything and everything. Sometimes it’s related to what we’ve been discussing in class, but since we traveled to Yunan together, we’ve become friends instead of just student and teacher. This means more often than not our discussions are purely random and completely off topic. Finally, there’s my Wednesday film class.  We’ve finished learning film terminology and the history of film development in China, which was capstoned by a visit to Beijing’s Chinese Film Museum. This is the same museum I visited last semester with my homestay, and is by far worth a second trip. It’s an excellent museum, and one that is far underappreciated in China. Our class homework so far has been watching specific films, and now that we have more of a background of film in China, we should soon begin analyzing them in detail.

Outside of class, my time is governed by three activities: my tutor, the gym, and my kung fu club. I’ll admit that at first I dreaded seeing my tutor four hours every week. Last semester’s tutor, Meng Chun, was very laid back and often we’d just spend our time chatting rather than doing any specific lesson. Ding Ying, on the other hand, is far more disciplined and down to business. Great, I thought, I got stuck with the hard ass. What I thought was going to be a semester of private hell has actually turned to be a blessing in disguise. Ding Ying is so nice, very patient, and her attention to detail has let me gain a much better understanding of Chinese grammar and sentence structures. She lets me discover exactly how to use them, when a sentence is correct, but awkward and presented in a manner that a native speaker would never use, and familiarizes me with some of the finer points of Chinese grammar that I would never be taught in class. Usually, lessons are as follows:

* Ding Ying and I are nonchalantly going over my homework or text, commenting on errors. Suddenly the tide turns and I interrupt my tutor.”

“Ding Ying, what is this? *points to a character* How on earth do I use it?”

*The character I point to ends up being an EXTREMELY vague and hard to understand Chinese grammar structure that often has no English equivalent. Ding Ying realizes the gravity of the situation.  Her eyes get wide and her face pales after I blind sight her yet again with another serious question and force her to launch off into a full-on lecture. Once the lecture concludes…*

“So, do you understand?”

“Nope. Not a bit.”

*Ding Ying hangs her head and starts over. Mid-way through, she looks at me. My eyes are glazed, and I’m staring at her with a stupid smile on my face, my cue for saying, “The laowai does not follow.” Ding Ying sighs, scratches out the notes and illustrations she had been writing, and dummies down the lesson another 5 notches.*

“How about now? Understand?”

*Erm…I think so. Well, a bit anyway. How about we do some examples?”

“Ok!”

*I come up with an example, a sentence that attempts to use the grammar point we’ve been covering correctly.*

“Is it right?”

“…no…”

*Attempt #2 at an example*

“Is it right?”

“…er, no.”

*Attempt #3*

“How about now?”

“Still not right.”

*Ding Ying elaborates more on the grammar, gives her own example or two, and I attempt yet again*

“How about now?”

“Yes! Well, sort of…”

“…”

“It’s just…well, it’s technically correct, but we would never say it like that. We’d say it like this *insert massively better sentence here*.”

“…oh.”

“But you’re getting closer! Try again.”

*By now, it’s attempt #55*

“…anything?”

“Yea! * smiles and strikes an Asian victory pose* YOU FINALLY GOT IT!!! *applause*”

“All right! Now what about THIS grammar point?”

*Ding Ying sighs, hangs her head, and starts the process over yet again*

Besides seeing my tutor, I’ve been frequenting a gym on the other side of campus. The machines are high-quality, although it pains me to sometimes see them being used. No offense intended, but a lot of the Chinese I see at the gym simply do not know how to work out. Really, it’s almost funny to watch. They use the machines incorrectly or sort of miss the point entirely. Case in point: it is extremely hard to get a treadmill because they’re often being used. But how are they used? Are the users running, jogging, or speed walking? Oh no. They’re practically strolling, sauntering along as the treadmill moves at a snail’s pace. Often, they’re not even wearing the right clothes. I cringe at the frequency I see female college students wearing mini skirts and sometimes even high heels walking on the treadmills. Even the machines aren’t free of abuse, and often their Chinese users are sporting the ultimate gym apparel: jeans. I want to laugh and hang my head in frustration at the same time. Another amusing pastime is to see exactly how much people lift on weight machines. Sometimes it’s fun to see a Chinese woman use the machine after I get off. Often she strains at the machine, looks down and sees how much I lifted, and shoots me a look that says, “What the-?! Woman, are you a gorilla?!” and reduces the machine to about three times its original weight. Sometimes even funnier is when a man gets on after me. Pretending not to watch, I look over at he strains at the weights, does a handful of moves before leaning back and slyly so as to not lose face, reduces the weight by a brick or two. My cardio is often the gym’s spin class. I mount a stationary bike and, as the instructor mounts the stage, the room turns into a disco bar. The lights dim, red and blue strobe lights flicker on and off, and techno music pumps and pounds through the air. After screaming a rally call of “JIAOYOU (Let’s go!)!!!” The instructor pedals like mad, waving his or her arms in the air in a calorie-burning victory dance, and we struggle and huff to keep up.

Kung Fu club is drastically more low-key. Our instructor, Xiao Xie, is only a little older than I am and is both a professional kung fu master and a college student. He began training at Shaolin when he was just a boy and throughout his adolescence spent his time in a professional martial arts troupe. He toured all over the world, and although he studied English in England he never learned how to read or write it. He also never studied mathematics or science until recently because he was always occupied with kung fu and developing his own variation of the Shaolin style. Lessons consist of learning a series of movements in a long processional routine rather than actually sparring against other students. Not the most practical of hobbies, but interesting nonetheless.

My life is pretty structured balancing these three activities and class work besides, but I do squeeze in the time to go off and have some adventures. I’ll highlight some of the most interesting so far:

My roommate, four friends, and I went to Nanshan, a ski resort just outside of Beijing. Some bar friends I had made last semester organized the trip and invited me to come along with anyone else I chose to bring. So, I assembled a small group and away we went. It was my roommate’s first time skiing, and we had a good time teaching her. We were all very proud of her when she finally mastered the bunny hill and could go down its entire length without falling. Between lessons and her practicing, we entertained ourselves on the snowboarding slope. The path was riddled with jumps, hills, boxes, and pipes that proved to be an adventure for all of us. I was the only one among them with skis, so it proved to be very challenging for me. However, I can say happily that by the end of the day I could ski over a box and got the hang of one jump. It took a long time for all of us, and no one was particularly experienced or good. Caitlin was wise enough to bring a video camera with us, and there’s some fantastic mocumentary footage of us all biting it and having some truly spectacular crash landings into the snow. Actually, I’m surprised we didn’t get hurt. The snow wasn’t the best powder to be sure, and much of it was actually ice. One of my bar buddies actually ended up dislocating his shoulder after a slip on the ice. After a good swig of whisky and a good yank to the arm, though, he was fine.

I also introduced my roomie to another American pastime: bowling. There’s a bowling ally about 30 minutes walking distance away, and some friends invited us to go. Of course I brought Sharon, my roommate, along and we had a ton of fun. I was truly pitiful and had the most consistent record out of all of them: almost straight zeros across the board. Hey, there are no gutter rails in China so give me a break. In my defense, when I returned a second time for our RA’s birthday, I improved drastically.

Another night when a large group of us went out for the night, I took a group of Chinese roommates to a nearby jazz bar.  I thought it would be a great experience since it’s actually very hard to find something that truly portrays and represents American culture. America is such a hodge-podge of different ethnic traditions and other cultures that we really don’t have one of our own. We really don’t have an “American” cuisine (don’t you dare point to McDonalds or KFC), we don’t really have an iconic architectural style, and a lot of our music has spread internationally, making it hard to call it “American.” Jazz, on the other hand, grew from the south and moved to Chicago, giving it home-grown, traditional American roots. What a perfect thing to show to Chinese friends! For many of the roommates, it was their first encounter with jazz, which made for an interesting experience all the way around. I introduced the history a bit (thank you, Culver, for my History of Rock ‘n Roll class), and we all sat back and enjoyed the music.

On the subject of music, a lot of my free time is spent in the hunt for good and, ideally, free live music. My quest has taken me to all kinds of bars and cafes, from the mildly shwanky to the pleasantly seedy.  One of my new favorite places to go is Jiangjinjiu, a Mongolian bar located in one of my favorite places in Beijing, the Drum and Bell Tower square. Sometimes the phrase “live, local bands” can be deceiving since the term “local” can be applied to a group of foreigners who’ve stayed in Beijing for a long time and decided to form a band. While their music isn’t necessarily bad, it isn’t what I’d call “local.” What I want is genuine Chinese music, which is what Jiangjinjiu offers. It caters to Chinese bands, especially those formed by ethnic groups. I’ve gone and heard Mongolian rock music, and Ugyhur rock music is also frequently offered. If not to listen to music, I love frequenting the Drum and Bell Tower area. It’s located in a hutong residential complex, meaning that the neighborhood, in addition to having the ancient Ming Drum and Bell towers, is full of history. However, it has yet to reach a heavy tourist attraction status, meaning I’m free to wander around without smacking into a herd of Americans or Europeans. I like talking to the loitering tour guides or chat or play hackysack (I suck at it) with the rickshaw drivers. There’s also a great tea store, Tea Talk, and the owner is one of my favorite people in Beijing. She likes to be called Lucy and she is very passionate about tea. Her shop is small, but full of love. She only sells tea she herself approves of and likes to drink; every teapot she sells is one she’s selected based on her own tastes. Overall, the store is distinctly “hers” and you feel it the moment you walk in. The first time I stopped by she invited me to sit down, chat, and drink tea, which I readily accepted. I’ve since been back a couple of times to visit her and repeat the experience. There’s no pressure to buy anything; we just sit down and talk and she teaches me the art of preparing and drinking tea. I love making friends with her, practicing my Chinese, and indulging in my favorite beverage, tea.

My search for music took me this week to an avant garde music festival in the D-22 Bar. Now, when I heard “avant garde,” I was picturing something resembling indie music, or perhaps some off-the-charts folk rock, or something Bob Dylan-esque. After listening to two hours of people screaming at each other, making mosquito noises into microphones, blasting white noise sounds, banging drums and pots, and having vocal seizurs on flutes, I realized I clearly had the wrong idea. Avant garde does not equal indie. Now, I do think sound art can be fascinating and, if you appreciate it fully, I’m sure it can create a series of fascinating visual images in your head. However, like a fine appreciation for red wines or aged blue cheese, it’s going to take a while for your palate to develop. Mine is still at ground zero. So, I checked the festival off as something nifty but best not repeated anytime soon. Besides the cultural enrichment, I also met a new friend, a Chinese college student studying in a nearby university, and bought an awesome poster and some great CDs of Chinese rock bands. Totally worth it.

Other festivals have been keeping me occupied as well. I went off and saw a snippet of the Beijing International Film Week and got to meet the head of the event, an American NYU graduate. He was an interesting person to talk to and I got to hear about his plans for making the equivalent of a Beijing Sundance Festival and his take on censorship on film.

For the past week or two, I’ve also been frequenting a literary festival conducted through a popular and aptly named book bar, The Book Worm. I got to hear a panel discussion on China’s relationship with the Internet, sat in on a book talk from a Chinese author who, as a girl, worked in a Communist factory and later participated in the Tiananmen Square incident, listened to the first westerner to specialize in Sichuan cooking and her lecture on culinary arts in China, and discussed the differences and difficulties facing Chinese and Western films with the leader of the soon to be arriving Edinburgh Film Festival.

And in case you were wondering, usually my company for events such as these is the infamous Me, Myself, and I. I do invite others to join, but usually I hear (a) it’s not their cup of tea or (b) they are swamped with work and can’t afford to go. Well, for me it’s (a) ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY my cup of tea and (b) even though I’m drowning in work, too, I go anyway. I take my work with me so that I’m still productive, but don’t miss out on a fantastic opportunity. The avant garde music festival? As my ears were assaulted with wailing and banging, I was reviewing vocab flashcards. How’s that for Chinese training? As for when I went to listen to a Chinese jazz-funk band? I was doing my history readings at the same time. With the exception of essay writing, which I unfortunately have to do now L, I don’t ever let my work get in the way.

And on a separate note, I did some reflection on my progress her in China. This is what I discovered.

• This summer when I started studying Chinese, I could only say something along the lines of, “Books influence movies.” Now, in Chinese, mind you, I can say, “American directors’ habit of adapting famous novels into movies indicates that literature has a increasingly profound influence on 20^th century filmmaking.” 
  
• My English is starting to get a little worse for the wear. Several times I’ve forgotten English words and a couple of times I’ve heard, “Wow, Chinese has totally f@#$ed up your English grammar.” 
  
• I now know more Chinese history and Chinese current events that American ones. 
• At the music festival, I saw a woman standing in line. I knew exactly what artist boutique she had bought her bag at, and I knew that the stuffed lama plush she was carrying was a reference to the Youtube censorship criticism video, “The Grass-Mud Horse.” Go to this cite to find out what I’m talking about: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/12/world/asia/12beast.html?_r=3&hp. 

Not meaning to toot my own horn there, but I just thought it was an interesting development. Well, I’ll update about the Yunan trip another time. It’s too big of a subject to write about here. 

The Beginnings of a New Beginning

Lyndsey’s Strange But True Sightings:

1) I ate spicy rabbit head. Well, half a head. The restaurant was nice and served it in halves, making it easier to eat. I’ll let you feast on the mental image of me gnawing on half of a cooked rabbit skull. Yummy.

2) The Chinese writing system is fascinating, and more often than not the actual translations of words are extremely fitting. I love looking up every single character in a word since usually the meaning and translation is priceless. I’ll list some of my personal favorites for you to read and enjoy:

1.。外星人 (Waixingren) – Alien, or literally “outside star person”

2。爆米花 (Baomihua) – Popcorn, or literally “exploding corn flower”

3。龙卷风 (Longjuanfeng) – Tornado, or literally “dragon spiral wind”

4。万圣节 （Wanshengjie) – Halloween, or literally “1,000 souls day”

5。海盗 （Haidao) – Pirate, or literally “sea thief" 

Let’s play the catch up game… 

After returning from Harbin, we had a full 24 hours before we would have to return to campus and help with Orientation. So, after settling in our hostel again, Caitlin, Lenore, and I decided to go to one last temple fair. We decided to go to Ditian Temple, the Temple of Earth, which is known for having the largest temple fair in Beijing. Unfortunately, since the New Year’s season was starting to wind down, we went on the last day it was open.  The temple was PACKED, to say the least.  Disneyland at the peak of its tourist season doesn’t even compare. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a dense crowd before, and for that reason none of us stayed too long at the fair. However, we did go, shove our way around, and explore a bit. Just like a typical fair, there were games you could play (ring toss, bean-bag throwing, etc.) and prizes you could win. Red lanterns and banners hung from every imaginable place and stalls selling art, trinkets, jewelry, and knick-knacks lined all of the walkways. It was fun to see all of the people crowded around, carrying pinwheels and balloon animals and wearing ostentatious hats that they had bought on the street especially for the occasion. There were some small shows to gather around and watch, too. There were musicians playing folk music, traditional dances, and Peking opera singers scattered around the park. The fair food was also extremely interesting. Every imaginable traditional food was sold – kabobs, porridges, dumplings, soups, noodles, and rice were dished out in a hurry. There was also fried ice cream, “smoking “ tea – big glasses of tea with pieces of dry ice inside that made the whole thing bubble and steam like crazy – and even oddities like scorpions, starfish, seahorse, silkworms, and cicada. Before you ask, no, I did not eat any. I’m all for strange foods, but I think it’s silly to eat something that the natives themselves don’t eat. That’s right, the Chinese really don’t eat that stuff. They consider it an oddity, just like we do, and will munch on it to prove their bravado or just for kicks. Well, like I said, after a while the crowds proved to be too much for us, so we made our exit and retreated to more open spaces. 

Since we were back in Beijing early and were full-year students, we agreed to help IES with the new students that would arrive for Orientation week. Our job would be to assist in activities, act as a guide and resource for them to use, help them get used to Beijing and the transportation system, and aid the staff in preparing for the new semester. I thought it would be fun to help out and get to know my new classmates early. Plus, as an orientation counselor, I got first picks on everything – classes, vacation trips, etc. Anything I want for the rest of the school year I’m going to get. Plus, it let me get a lot of free meals and a free, spiffy-looking sweatshirt  :). Hey, I’m a college student. “Mooching” is my middle name. 

I remember my own Orientation was extremely busy, I was always running from one meeting to another. However, as a counselor I didn’t have to go to those meetings again, meaning I actually had much more free time than I initially expected.  Besides doing the basics – giving the campus tour, taking them shopping for supplies, showing them where all the restaurants are, etc. – there were a couple of large activities I was in charge of organizing and managing. First of all, there is a very large activity called Mystery Beijing. Those of you who read the blog last semester will remember me describing this huge Beijing-wide scavenger hunt. This semester I helped man one of the stations. I was posted on the Silver Bridge in an area called Houhai, a lake not too far away from the Forbidden City. Students had to follow clues that would lead to my location, find me, perform a small task of my design (I made them successfully order dumplings from a nearby stand), and then, after successful completion of the dumpling buying, receive the next clue. It was fun watching them race all over, but unlike last semester, the weather was cold. I nearly froze and had to periodically seek shelter in a nearby café. The second major task was to design a short excursion for students to go on. Two other counselors and I organized a trip to return to Badachu, the Buddhist temple complex I went to last semester. It was such an awesome experience that I wanted new students to get to experience it, especially since it’s not a well-known place and they probably wouldn’t find it on their own. We all had a great time exploring, and I loved seeing some of the temples I didn’t get to visit last time. The facilities are old but beautiful – big porcelain jars full of swimming carp, long, sleeping Buddhas, large painted statues of the North, South, East, and West gods, red, wooden placards inscribed with prayers dangling off of trees…it’s all very beautiful. I also went with students to go to a Chinese acrobatics show and took them to go see the 798 art district (mad shopping on my part ensued). Finally, I got to see the new homestay students off and let them greet their own families. I saw my old homestay family again and introduced them to their new student, Molly. It was good to see them again, and they even took me to have dinner with them at a fantastic Sichuan restaurant. However, my time in a homestay is definitely done and I’m glad to have more independence with my dorm life. 

Unfortunately, I couldn’t move in with my Chinese roommate right way and had to temporarily room with one of the new students, Sarah. Let’s just say I am sooooo glad to no longer be rooming with her. Oh, Sarah, let me count the ways in which I hated being your roommate and why I still wish to strangle you:

1. She never goes out. Ever. She eats dinner in her room and makes it herself. That means there is never any personal time where I can just sit and be alone or take a nap.

2. She is always talking to her boyfriend on Skype (a computer-to-computer telephone system), and I literally mean ALWAYS. If she doesn’t talk to him, he accuses her of cheating, which is always fun to overhear in the room: “Baby you’re going to leeeeeeeeave me…” “I miss you sooooo much….” “Baby you know I love you so why do you say that….?” Barf, barf, and more barf. Believe me, it took a lot of willpower not to smash her laptop.

3. She went to bed ridiculously early, like around 8:30 or 9:00. My usual bedtime is 2:00 AM and at 8:30 I still have tons of homework to do. Since she was asleep, that meant I had to be evicted from my room, which is my typical workspace, and lost easy access to things like my dictionaries, reference books, pencils and pens, paper, etc. Talk about a pain in the ass.

4. She wakes up ridiculously early to – you guessed it – talk to her boyfriend. One time she turned on the lights at 6:30 AM. I almost turned into the Incredible Hulk for that one, but settled for verbally ripping her apart instead of physically. She got off lucky.

5. I believe she is slightly racist. The one time she went out to eat she went to either a Hui Muslim or Uygur (both ethnic minorities in China) restaurant. She later said the whole experience was very strange because “they were Muslim” and therefore didn’t like her because she was an American. She didn’t say much more after that, probably because the look of disgust on my face told her to stop right there. 

Thankfully, that period is done and over with and I am now with my Chinese roommate, who I love to pieces. There’s not enough space in this blog entry to talk about her, so I’ll save that for next time. However, I’ve vowed to adopt the Chinese student that has the misfortune to be Sarah’s roommate once she arrives.  

And now for something humorous: During one of our especially free days at Orientation, two other counselors, Lenore and Rachel, and I decided to go to a massage parlor for cupping. Get your mind out of the gutter, it’s not what you think. In Chinese it’s called 拔火罐 (bahuoguan). First, a flame is placed inside a glass jar to burn all of the oxygen away and create a vacuum. Then, that glass jar, which is not hot, by the way, is placed on your back and is sucked onto your skin. Usually it leaves a very large, circular, hickey-like bruise. The point is to concentrate the blood in certain areas, which thus changes your circulation and qi flow. Overall the practice is very “Chinese” and we decided it was worth a try. Once we arrived at the parlor, we saw two options: cupping and movable cupping. Last semester my friend Hali said that when she got cupping done, they massaged her back at the same time. We concluded that must be what movable cupping must be, since, you know, when you are massaged things are “moved.” We were so wrong. Instead of getting a lovely massage, the “moving” part consisted of something entirely different. Rather than letting the glass jars stay stationary on one small area, which is relatively painless, they are instead raked across your entire back again and again, which is far from pleasant. In fact, it was damn painful. Every blood vessel in the jar’s path was broken, turning my entire back into a giant bruise.  It caused poor Lenore to actually start bleeding in a couple of areas. At the end of it all, it looked as if I’d lain down in the middle of a road and then been thoroughly run over by a car. I recommend that you all go to my Facebook and see the photos of the event. As a result of the bruising, I couldn’t move my shoulder blades together for days. Putting my coat on by myself became impossible, as was leaning against any surface.  Not a fun time. So note to all of my readers: cupping is a rather interesting and worthwhile cultural experience that you should by all means try. Movable cupping, on the other hand, is a form of torture that should be avoided at all costs. Just say no. 

During Orientation my overall impression of the new students was a good one. They are very adventurous, excited, but nervous, to be here, and not very cliquey at all. I’ve never seen such a large group of students that refuses to faction, instead remaining as one, solid unit. However, there are two cliques that have formed though, which I didn’t expect. One group is the new students, the other the old students. For the new students, Beijing is a big, exciting, foreign place to be. They’re full of energy and a “have to do it all, have to see it all” attitude, one which I certainly had last semester. However, when I look at them running around at 100 mph., I get exhausted. As a friend of mine explained, my “honeymoon period” with Beijing is over. I’ve been to all of the major cites; I’ve seen all of the famous spots. Going to those places again holds no appeal to me, and so it’s hard for us full-year students to associate with the new ones. We watch their slightly naïve, energetic behavior with well-seasoned eyes and find ourselves saying things like, “Back in the day…” or, “I remember…” It makes me seem old. I feel old. In fact, the new students are extremely surprised when they find out my actual age and realize I am, in fact, younger than most of them. I’ve become the quiet guru, the magic eight ball that’s occasionally pulled out, shaken for advice, and then put back on the shelf. And I’m fine with that. I’ve made several new friends, but mostly us odies stick together. Our goal is to settle into Beijing, to make it a second home rather than a tourist destination. So far, that’s what we’ve been going. Rather than following the pack and swarming to the Temple of Heaven or Tiananmen Square, we go to the quiet bar across the way to hear a local band, or maybe I’ll go to a small art festival in 798. It’s an interesting life to have. 

Well, obviously Orientation is over and classes have begun. I still have my Chinese class, although this semester I’m in the 300 level. It’s hard to believe I just started Chinese this past summer, isn’t it? Class is far more rigorous this semester than last semester. Chinese is now four hours a day as opposed to three, and every night I have to memorize 60-80 new words, which will be tested the following day during a quiz. Every day is a new lesson with 8-10 new sentence structures, so needless to say things are far more fast-paced. I lucked out and got great teachers, though, and there’s a fantastic group of students in my class. Besides Chinese, I also am taking a 20^th century history course. I loved the 19^th century course I took last semester so much that I decided to just keep on going. It’s the same teacher, too, which is fantastic. Jeremiah is by far the best history teacher I’ve ever had. I’m really excited for this class, mostly because Chinese 20^th century history is one of the most over-dramatized and misunderstood periods of the country’s history. Whenever I ask a question regarding Mao Zedong, the CCP, the Cultural Revolution, etc. I always get either a politically biased or a misinformed answer, or sometimes just a blank confused stare. Maybe my questions will finally be answered. My third class is a Chinese film studies course, which meets just once a week for three hours. Unlike my history class, the film class is all in Chinese. It’s extremely difficult, and by the end of course my brain is shot. I’m unfamiliar with film terminology even in English, not to mention in Chinese, and unfortunately most dictionaries aren’t technical enough to have film terms anyway. So, we all have to figure out new words as we go along using context and the teacher’s illustrations. For example, all on my own I had to realize what the terms for various camera angles and focuses were and the translation of words such as “scene change,” “camera shot,” “montage,” and “silver screen.” Very, very difficult, even more so when I learn a Chinese word and understand it’s meaning, but I don’t know an exact English word that has the same sense or translation. 

If I manage to squeeze one more post in before Wednesday, I’ll talk more about my roommate and class schedule. If not, know that I’ll be gone for about ten days and will not have internet access. Wednesday I leave to go on the program’s long vacation (the equivalent of last semester’s Silk Road trip) and will be heading to Yunan, the southern part of China. I’ll get to travel very close to Tibet, even having a four-day Tibetan homestay experience and the ability to celebrate Tibetan New Years. I’m extremely excited to go, and will be sure to let you know all about it! Stay tuned! 

Winter Wonderland

Hello again, to all my readers who have been patient and have managed to stay loyal thus far. As you all know, after returning home for Christmas break and spending some quality time with my family, I came back to Beijing to begin my second semester in China. However, what some of you may not know is that I came back two weeks early, and had the opportunity to travel with two friends of mine, Caitlin and Lenore. This blog entry is to tell you about that experience and all the time leading up to the opening week of orientation at IES. 

The three of us met on January 19^th at Beijing Downtown Backpackers’ Hostel, which would be our home for the next week and a half. We shared a room with three other people, who were cheap travelers like ourselves. The hostel proved to be a great place to stay. We had laundry services, free breakfasts every morning, decent and clean beds, our own bathroom, a lounge, and even an internet room. Even better, the hostel’s location was fantastic. Stationed in the middle of a street called Nanluogu Xiang, we were surrounded by funky little stores, boutiques, and an ample supply of cafes. I found out that many artists who can’t afford to be in Beijing’s art district, 798, often set up shop in that ally, which quickly made it one of my new favorite places to visit. Even better, the street was surrounded by hutongs, traditional Chinese homes, which gave you a secluded and native atmosphere over all. 

Every day, after a hearty session of sleeping in, we’d go out and explore Beijing a bit. We hardly ever had a definite plan, just a general idea of what we wanted to see and where we wanted to go. This proved to be a fantastic experience. One of my goals this semester is to make Beijing more like a home, and that’s exactly what I started to do during my first week back in China. I started to move away from the more typical tourist activities and famous sites, choosing instead to go to places where more locals frequent. 

One of the first things we did was go to Houhai Lake and rent some ice skates. It was so cold in Beijing that all of the rivers and lakes were frozen, each with about a one-foot layer of ice. I had a great time skating around, although I quickly learned what a difference a zamboni really makes and often tripped, stumbled, and flailed.  Of course, I feel flat on my butt once, but in my defense the ice was uneven and the blades of my skates were off center. 

Another day we decided to go to the Beijing Zoo and Aquarium, which turned into a full day experience. Anyone who knows me knows I looove zoos, and I was interested to see what Beijing’s would be like. To be honest, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I heard stories that the animals’ facilities were not that good, and to some extent that was true. It was heartbreaking to see beautiful, big cats in cement cages about the size of an average classroom, and the dog section was also a bit depressing. Yes, you read that right. The dog section. I believe I’ve mentioned that within the inner city of Beijing you are not allowed to have a dog over one foot tall. That could explain why in one part of the zoo there were cages and cages of big dogs. I saw St. Bernards, huskies, golden retrievers, old English sheepdogs, cocker spaniels, etc. While the whole situation was really funny, it was kind of sad to know that the dogs would never have anyone to play with. Now, don’t get the wrong idea. I though the zoo was very good considering the crowded, hectic nature of Beijing as a whole. The zoo was overall very large and we actually didn’t have time to see it all. Their aquarium was also excellent, and I loved that they actually had four large green sea turtles. Of course, if you go to the Bejing zoo, there is one thing you absolutely have to see: the pandas. I was actually very surprised when I saw them. Whenever I’ve seen pandas, I’ve always been bored. They’re nearly always asleep, curled up in a ball so you can’t anything but a black and white blob. Beijing’s were roaming around, eating bamboo and carrots, and were overall very active. They were so cute! It made me realize why the Chinese are so obsessed over them, and why one idiot got killed by one last semester when he decided to fulfill his lifelong dream of hugging a panda in person. Nope, not joking. Look it up online. 

Besides those two major places, there were a couple of other sites we stopped at. We explored the Lama Temple, which is a huge, beautiful Tibetan Buddhist temple, saw the Drum and Bell Tower, and also went to the Beijing Dinosaur Museum. Note to Beijing visitors: don’t go to the museum unless you’re very bored. The quality was pretty bad, but we made the most of it by taking goofy pictures with the dino bones. By far the best part was a large wall painted with a scene taken from prehistoric times. Mammals long since extinct fought over food, mammoths roamed across plains, saber tooth cats lounged on rocks, and towards the bottom of the wall in the bushes, pandas socialized and ate leaves. Wait…pandas? Prehistoric pandas? I raised my eyebrows and seriously questioned the validity of the museum. 

At night we also went out and about, frequenting some of our favorite hangouts and finding and exploring new ones. Live music soon became our activity of choice, and we all found and fell in love with a little bar called Ginko. The atmosphere was great, the music was free, and, best of all, we quickly became friends with the bartender, Terry. When he wasn’t busy, we’d sit and chat, teach each other Chinese and English, and, when the owner wasn’t looking, enjoy all the discounts and specials he gave us :). Always get to know the bartender if you can. 

While all of our exploring was a lot of fun, by far the main event that we were looking forward to was Chinese New Year. IES was especially helpful and provided us with homestays to celebrate New Year’s Eve. This proved to be a fantastic experience, since Chinese New Year, like Christmas, is mostly celebrated within the home as opposed to on the street. Lenore and I shared a family, and got to see firsthand what China’s biggest holiday was like. Our family was from Beijing, and all of the family members crowded into the grandmother’s tiny three-bedroom home to celebrate together. All together there was a grandmother, two aunts, a nephew, a niece, an uncle, a set of parents, and a son. Needless to say, we did a lot of socializing :). Dinner was prepared in the kitchen, and Lenore and I had the opportunity to help out. Our job was to help make jiaozi, which is a traditional Chinese dumpling and is commonly eaten at New Year’s. Our host dad rolled out the dough, which in my opinion is the hardest job. Each piece has to be a perfect circle, the dough thick in the middle and thin on the edges. Lenore, our host mom, and I put in the filling and pinched the dumplings shut. Closing dumplings is also hard, since there’s a certain way you have to do it in order to get a pretty shape and prevent it from falling apart once it’s steamed. Our New Year’s feast was HUGE. We all ate till we dropped, which wasn’t hard since everything was delicious. There was lotus root with hawthorn jelly, cold meats and spicy dipping sauce, fried shrimp and chicken wings, a whole fish, pickled vegetables, and a mushroom dish with blood jelly. When we were all stuffed, Lenore and I left with our new parents to their house where we watched the New Year’s special on TV. CCTV, the main TV program in China, every year puts on a four hour program full of dancing, singing, comedy acts, and plays that is hosted and performed by some of the biggest stars in China. Everyone watches it, and it lasts until the wee hours of the morning. After a while, Lenore and I could tell our homestay parents were getting sleepy, so we made our exit and went to the Drum and Bell Tower Square to see the stroke of midnight. 

It’s hard to really describe just how magnificent the turning of the New Year was. Through out the day, actually, throughout the whole week, fireworks had been going off pretty much nonstop. However, once midnight hit, the whole city changed. My location for the event was fantastic. Lenore and I raced down the street as midnight approached, dodging fireworks and sparklers and firecrackers. A couple times boomers were launched a little too close to me, causing my ears to ring for hours afterwards. Once midnight hit, the whole city lit up. The sky glowed as everyone left their homes and lit fireworks off from their courtyards, roofs, sidewalks, and doorsteps. Traffic stopped as strings of firecrackers 8-9 feet long were set off. Car alarms chimed everywhere as boomers were launched, sending vibrations strong enough to set off their sensors. I’ve never seen anything like Chinese New Year. It was like watching an hour and a half of the biggest Fourth of July grand finale you’ve ever seen. Being at the Drum and Bell Towers for this event was especially spectacular. It was so beautiful to see the ancient towers light up as fireworks of every shape and size surrounded them and to hear everyone cheering. Ever since I was a little girl I have wanted to see Chinese New Year’s, and as I stood in one of the oldest centers of the capital, watching the fireworks explode around me, it really hit me: I was actually, finally fulfilling my dream. Yes, I’ll admit that I cried a bit, but that’s ok. Chinese New Year’s is something I will never, ever forget and is by far one of the most moving things I’ve ever seen. 

Now, technically Chinese New Year’s is not just a single day, but weeks of festivities. New Year’s Eve is the biggest of all the events, but things continue long afterwards. In the following days, one of the most popular activities to do is to go to temple fairs. Temple fairs are…well…fairs at temples. It’s that simple. Usually there are traditional dance and singing performances, stands where you can play games, knickknacks and art you can buy, food stalls, and maybe some activities such as paper cutting and painting. They’re incredibly popular and an intricate part of the New Year’s celebrations. For that reason, our homestay family met us the next day on campus and took us to the festival at the Summer Palace temple grounds. We got to explore a bit, listen to music, have tea, and watch people skate on the frozen ice. Lenore, Caitlin, and I only stayed for a little while, though, since we were due to catch a flight to Harbin, China. 

Harbin is a city in the north of China and is just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Russia. If you picture China as if it were a big chicken, Harbin is located right around where the comb would be. It’s not much of a city, really, but it does have some great ski places and has tons of Russian influences in its architecture. Since it’s so far north, of course the weather is F-R-E-E-Z-I-N-G. Every day I wore under-armor (kind of like sportswear long johns), a thick long-sleeved shirt, a turtleneck sweater, a sweatshirt and a ski jacket. I was still cold. During the night it was almost impossible to go out and do anything since temperatures would drop so low. Later I heard that temperatures would range between -4° to -40° Fahrenheit. 

We were fortunate that the budget hotel we stayed at offered a great, cheap tour that hit all the major sites in Harbin. The only drawback was that it was entirely in Chinese, and our entire group was composed of Chinese city slickers who stared at us the whole time. Regardless, we saw some amazing things. We visited the Sophia Church, which was beautiful and designed in a Russian orthodox style. We also went to the Dragon Tower, which is probably one of the most random buildings I’ve ever been to in my life. There was a small prehistoric exhibit (with more pandas smuggled into the scenery), a Confucian room that for some reason displayed meteors, areas where you could play with cats and dogs, an aquarium, an Olympic hall, a movie area, and, my personal favorite, at the top of the tower you could buy a pigeon for 3 RMB and release it off the building (of course I did it). Needless to say, we left a bit dazed and confused. Our other small excursion was to a frozen section of a river, where we could take dog sleds or sleigh rids across the ice. We were mostly distracted by a section where the ice had been cut away to make a large, open pool. There was actually a man swimming in it, as if he weren’t cold at all. I thought he must be a special kind of idiot. 

While all of these activities were fun, our primary goal in visiting Harbin was to see its legendary Ice and Snow Festival. It is by far the most defining feature of the city and occurs every year from late January to mid February. During the day we saw the first half of the festival, the part dedicated to snow. That consisted of an entire park filled with snow sculptures ranging in sizes. Some were small, maybe the size of a fountain, while others were several stories tall. Regardless, all were extremely beautiful and intricate. There was a life-size train that you could walk into, a replica of the Finnish parliament building, small villages, slides and cafes made from snow, and statues of dragons, maidens, musicians, lions, and everything in between. It was absolutely beautiful and completely unforgettable. The night was dedicated to seeing the ice section of the festival. While various ice sculptures and ice lanterns were scattered throughout the whole city, there was another park completely dedicated to the festival. Inside it was a mini-city made entirely out of ice. Each building was constructed in a different architectural style, and each block of ice had a light frozen inside it, making it glow at night. Muslim mosques, German cabins and castles, French arches, Chinese temples, and pagodas from Thailand lit up in fantastic colors of every neon shade. Most had ice slides stretching off of them that you could ride down, and many also had pavilions that you could climb up to and see. As you strolled around the buildings, you could also watch reindeer and horse-drawn carriages wiz by and even catch a glimpse of people carrying arctic foxes, which you could pet and take pictures with for a small fee. Although it was an amazing place to be, we could only stay for an hour. It was so cold that our cameras were freezing and breaking down, and I experienced a new kind of pain in my toes and fingers. 

The last thing we did before we returned to Beijing was visit Harbin’s tiger park. Supposedly it has the largest concentration of tigers of anywhere in the world. We rode in an armored jeep and drove through the park, watching tigers walk around the car and roll in the snow. Even better, you could feed the tigers, and by “feed” I don’t mean you throw chunks of meat out your window. You throw live animals. Your choices consist of a chicken, a duck, a sheep, or, if you wanted to spend the money, a cow. Caitlin, Lenore, and I felt a little guilty about buying an animal for the slaughter, but we figured it was an experience we shouldn’t miss, We decided to pool together and splurge for the cheapest food option: a chicken. Dubbed Sanders Crispy McNugget, our brave little chicken rode in the van next to us and waited for the inevitable. When we reached an inner part of the park, we received a brief warning and Sanders was thrown out of the car. He was air born for about five seconds until a tiger leaped on top of the car and skidded across the surface after him. There was a puff of feathers, and then he was gone. Our jaws dropped as we witnessed National Geographic firsthand, and quickly lamented not buying more chickens. Or perhaps a sheep. Yes, it’s sadistic and bloody, but…it’s also awesome. 

That concluded our stay in Harbin, and we took a plane back to the capitol. I think I may have hit a new record for the length of this rant, so I’ll cut things off here. I’ll tell you all about classes and the orientation process next time, so stay tuned if you can! 

Snapshots

Lyndsey’s Strange but True Sightings:

1. I have officially seen six people pee on the street now. That, plus fact that spitting everywhere is acceptable, means the five second rule definitely does NOT apply to China. If it falls on the ground, leave it. It’s not worth it, man.
2. I have now seen my fair share of Land Rovers and Jeeps cruising through the city. I have no idea why on earth someone from Beijing would feel the need to buy that kind of car. No Hummer sightings yet, but I’m still hoping.
3. My apartment building doesn’t have a 4th or 14th floor. That’s because the word for “four” sounds the same as the word for “death,” so the number four is considered unlucky.
   If someone is getting married, you don’t give them pears. The word for “pear” sounds like the word for “divorce.” Similarly, you never give an older person a watch or a clock. The phrase “to give a clock” has the same pronunciation for the phrase “to prepare a funeral.”
4. Out of all of the fast food companies that have based themselves in China, KFC has had the most success. For some reason, it has been able to adapt its menu to Chinese tastes, and so draw a bigger audience than other fast food chains. You can order things like egg tarts, Peking duck wraps, and fried chicken with Chinese spices. For this reason, KFC is everywhere. No, seriously. It seems that every block boasts its own Kendeji. Everyone loves KFC, especially children. For this reason, it shouldn’t be surprising that one in every four Chinese children is obese.

I know I have a wide range of readers who are in tune with this blog. Some of you may not know what it’s like to live abroad, or perhaps even travel outside the country. Others may be interested in studying abroad or leaving the US, but may be unsure what to expect. With this in mind, I thought it might be useful to describe one of my past, average weekends. By catching a small glimpse of my daily life in Beijing, maybe you can see what it’s like to live in a different environment and culture and how, after a while, you yourself become part of it. So, without further adieu, take a glimpse of what it’s like to be one of Beijing’s many “expats” (expatriots):

Friday:

Friday is always a fun day because I get out of class around noon. With most of the day free, it’s a great opportunity to explore Beijing or go to some sort of event. After meeting with my Chinese tutor, I went to a nearby café to power through the weekend’s homework and kill time. Once early evening hit, I went back to campus and met up with a friend, Elise, and the two of us went to see a Peking opera. We hopped in a cab and drove to Beijing’s Poly theatre across town in order to see a performance titled Romance of the West Chamber.

Romance of the West Chamber is by far one of the more famous Peking operas performed. It is an extremely old opera since it is an adaptation off of a classical Yuan Dynasty piece of literature. In the story, the daughter of a wealthy family falls in love with the poor scholar employed by her father. With the help of a crafty maid, the two fall in love and have a secret romance without their parents’ approval. However, soon the mother discovers their relationship. Because the two have had premarital relations, she agrees to let them marry, but only if the scholar passes the service exams. The scholar is forced to travel to Beijing, and the daughter has to stay behind waiting for him to return. The play is regarded as a romantic comedy and is known as the “lovers’ Bible.” While it has been generally popular with younger people, many also see it as improper and lewd. And, of course, the story is in sharp contrast with filial piety, which is a no-no.

For those of you who don’t know, Peking opera is nothing at all like Western opera. The sound is completely different. While Western opera has long, lengthy arias, Peking opera sounds much more nasal and high-pitched. The style of singing also more closely resembles chanting than what many would call music. As for the acting, Peking opera relies more on facial expressions and exaggerated body movements. The actors’ movement is especially interesting, since they have learned to walk in a way that almost makes them seem like they are floating. The costumes are almost always very elaborate, and of course there is the famous face painting. Usually each opera has very stereotypical characters (ie: the profound scholar, the corrupt king, the beautiful maiden, etc.) and each has a unique face-paint pattern. By looking at how their face is painted, you can immediately tell what character they represent. Each style of face is different, but usually all have a white base and red or pink flushed eyes. This version of Dream of the West Chamber was a little less traditional. Instead of having a small band of musicians with traditional Chinese instruments, there was a pit orchestra. The stage was also elaborately done, which is unusual since usually there are very little props or scenery. In this case, the whole floor was glass and you could see flowers trapped underneath. Also, like most Peking operas, it was loooooong. Two and a half hours with no intermission and desperately trying to read the Chinese subtitles flashing on a screen can result in a major headache, but also a great cultural experience.

Saturday:

Every day when I walk to my home stay, I see something strange. I live next to high rise apartment complexes and the largest mall in all of Asia, yet tucked away amongst the buildings is a small Buddhist temple. Finally curiosity got the better of me and Saturday morning I decided to go in and explore. After talking with the caretakers, I found out the temple was actually around 400 years old, which explains why the government hasn’t been able to demolish it and use the extremely valuable property to build another apartment building. I was allowed to explore the whole area, talking with the incense sellers and guards along the way. I was given a crash course on the history of the temple, the backgrounds of all of the gods represented inside, and the nature of Buddhism in general. The most fascinating building was a small temple full of sixty medium-sized statues. In China, years are traditionally represented in lunar years, and sixty lunar years is considered one life cycle. So, each statue represented a god presiding over a specific year in the sixty lunar year cycle. Once you go through all sixty, you go back to the first god and start over. In essence, each year has a god watching over it, and if that specific god happened to also preside over the year you were born, you can pray to him for luck and protection. One of the caretakers was nice enough to explain all of this to me and show me to my personal god, the one who took care of 1988. I have to say, I rather liked him. He had a really cool blue armored suit, a very respectable mustache, and held a dragon in his arms. You wouldn’t want to mess with my god.

After the visit, I met back up with Elise, stopped and had one of the new Christmas-flavored coffees at the nearby Starbucks, and saw the new 007 movie…for the third time. Hey, don’t criticize me for needing just a small taste of America.

For the rest of the day, I spent time browsing around the Lama Temple area. The Lama Temple is the second most famous temple in all of Beijing, the Temple of Heaven being the first. Unfortunately, I arrived too late and the temple was closed, but that didn’t stop me from exploring the area. Lama Street (yes, the street right by the Lama Temple), is a great place to cruise around. Because the Lama Temple belongs to Tibetan Buddhism, the whole street is lined with small little Buddhist stores. You can buy incense, prayer beads, statues, idols, candles, spirit money, etc. There are also lots of handcrafts and art stores, and some neat clothing stores as well. I like the area because it’s a good break from the ethnic homogeny you usually see in Beijing. Something I really miss about the US is the fact that when you walk down the street, you will usually see people of all kinds of ethnic backgrounds. In China, big cities especially, you primarily see Han Chinese. Because of the proximity of the Lama Temple, the Lama Street and neighboring hutong (traditional, old Chinese courtyard homes) areas are filled with Tibetans.
One of my favorite games to play in China is the “Check it out!” game. The rules are simple: if you see something relatively interesting, no matter how random or strange, you stop immediately, swerve over, and go see it. When I was cruising down Lama Street, I saw this potentially interesting looking ally. I walked down, rounded the corner, and saw this shop tucked away in a corner. I didn’t know what it was, but it had a big ying yang on it and I could read the words “feng shui.” I tried talking to the store owner to find out what it was, but unfortunately I couldn’t understand much. I took the store’s card, and when I arrived back home later that night I had my host family help me translate. Turns out it’s a name-giving store. The owner will help you choose a name for your company, product, child, etc. that has good feng shui and will bring you success and luck. Such stores can be very popular, although I was warned that you have to make sure you find one that is actually authentic. My former Chinese teacher’s parents actually went to such a store. The owner told them that she lacked the element wood in her body, and so they gave her a name that used the character “lin,” which has two radicals symbolizing wood.

Also while at Lama Street, I stopped into a potentially interesting store. It sold a special type of dried caterpillar used in traditional medicine. The caterpillar is especially rare and can only be found in cold, mountainous areas in Tibet. While I refrained from buying any caterpillars, I did have a great time sitting and chatting with the two owners. Both were from Tibet, but had moved to Beijing for jobs. I mostly talked to them about Chinese New Year and how they celebrated it; they asked me about Christmas. As we sipped tea, they recommended that I stay at the hostel close their store for New Year’s. They were friends with the owner, and the hostel was located in the hutong area. Since it was in a more local location, it would be a great place to see the holiday celebrations. I think I’ll follow their suggestion.

Sunday:

Sundays are usually my work days, which usually means I have a 12-hour period of solid productivity. Unfortunately, it also means that my day is usually very, very boring. I decided to mix it up a bit and make my Sunday more eventful, and so I went to Beijing’s Beihai Park to do my studying. Beihai Park is without a doubt one of Beijing’s most scenic spots. Located not too far away from the Forbidden City, the Park hosts a small lake, a large Buddhist white pagoda and other temple structures, large ponds full of golden carp and koi fish, and beautiful woods and greenery. Sunday was a great day to go since the park wasn’t too crowded. Although, of course, the cold weather might have also had something to do with it. A lot of Chinese dislike the cold because it is bad for your health. I’ve been told many times by my host family to always wear slippers in the house since walking on the cold linoleum floor can make me sick.

One of the most impressive aspects of China’s parks is that they’re always being used. Whenever I’m home, I always become so depressed when I pass the local parks and don’t see a soul in them. I know that especially in my home town, you never see anyone using the park facilities, making the whole place just seem sad and lonely. In China, the parks are always used and full of activity. Public exercise machines line the sidewalks, couples walk their dogs and chat, elderly groups meet to practice tai chi, breathing exercises, or traditional dance, and younger couples go on dates or bring their children to socialize. Point being, parks are always bustling with a healthy amount of activity, and on Sunday Beihai Park was no exception. I ran across a ballroom dance class and watched older couples tango and waltz across the old cobblestone lanes; groups of friends had taken over small pagoda pavilions to play cards, practice their singing (some even brought portable karaoke machines), or form mini-string quartets consisting of traditional Chinese instruments. There were also a handful of calligraphy artists practicing their handwriting. I always love watching the calligraphy artists. They use large brushes, which are often four feet tall, and write on the sidewalks. No, it’s not a case of vandalism. They use water instead of ink, so after a couple of minutes their scripts evaporate off the pavement. Other places in the park boasted more lively affairs, such as an adult choir complete with a small accompanying orchestra.

In the end, I spent the whole day at Beihai Park. I hopped from one scenic spot to the next studying, reading, and practicing my vocabulary for Monday’s quiz. Of course I also explored the park itself, too, and took the opportunity to visit many of the temple facilities and explore the park’s caves. The caves were fascinating. They weren’t too big and only were probably 20-30 yards long, but they were absolutely beautiful. Before they had been used as part of the Buddhist temple facilities, so as you descended you could see all sorts of carvings and paintings etched into the stone. There were also tons of small statues and idols of gods stationed protectively amongst the crags and grottos. I had a great time, especially since the caves made me feel oddly nostalgic. When I was little, I always imagined having my own secret cave full of treasures and ancient carvings. Exploring the caves of Beihai made me feel like I was walking through one of the fantasy games I created as a child, since the caves looked exactly like those I had visualized when playing with friends. How strange that I should actually find what I had imagined years later in China.

Well, you can only take so much nature in one day, and after a while I decided it was time to find a new spot. I decided to go to Houhai, an area right behind Beihai Park. So far this semester I’ve deliberately avoided the area. While the area is beautiful (it lines parallel to a river feeding into Beihai’s lake) and certainly worth seeing, many Chinese tease that all you see there is foreigners. Since the whole area is pretty much lined with cafes and bars, it really is no surprise that Houhai is so popular with tourists. I rather despise tourist-heavy areas in Beijing since I find them to be very showy, overpriced, and fake, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to take a look at Houhai and see what the big fuss was.

I really was pleasantly surprised in Houhai. While the streets parallel to the river literally were nothing but bars and coffee shops, the lanes behind them were full of fun, funky shops. They were still a bit overpriced, but that didn’t stop me from walking away with some very artsy, new clothes. I also discovered that around the area is a huge hutong district, meaning that when you turned down the alleys you got to see some of Beijing’s oldest, most traditional homes. My favorite part of the visit, though, was making friends with Guo Shujun, a local artist working in Houhai.


My encounter with Guo was completely spontaneous and a result of the “Check it out!” game. While walking down a street in Houhai, I noticed a rather interesting little shop nudged between two Western-style bars. To be honest, the place was so small I wouldn’t have even noticed it if I hadn’t seen two women walking out beforehand. The door was set back into the building, meaning you had to walk down a little ally about five feet long before you actually got to the entrance, and overall the entire storefront was no bigger than a closet. It looked a little out of place, especially since on the left was a big poster advocating “NFL Sundays!!” and on the right was a large picture of a sombrero and the Chivas whiskey logo. I figured it was worth a shot, and walked into the little store. The whole store was probably the size of a classroom. In one corner was a rather discombobulated desk covered with scrap pieces of cloth and a sewing machine, and the rest of the store was lined with everyday piece of clothing. However, on each article was a beautiful picture or design of some sort. They were stunning – pairs of jeans sporting large, elaborate phoenixes, blouses with red and blue dragons swirling around the sleeves, what would otherwise be plain dresses covered in murals of peacocks and flowers, etc. When the store owner, a gentleman in his late 50s shuffled out to greet me, he told me that he was an artist and had hand painted everything himself. We quickly hit it off, and he invited me to sit and have some tea. We chatted for a bit about current events, my life in Beijing and back home, and his work (yes, all in Chinese!) and in the end we ended up swapping cell phone numbers. I promised that after returning back to Beijing from winter break, I would bring back a ton of my old clothes for him to paint.

Well, that was my weekend. I hope it gives you a glimpse of what life can be like here once you get settled in. Just because you’re not in your home country doesn’t mean you still can’t make it your home.

In case you haven’t noticed, my updates are going to be a little more sporadic in the next coming weeks. The semester is quickly coming to a close, which means...yes, you guessed it…FINALS. Woohoo. Next week I literally have a test or a paper due every day. So, until things start to calm down a bit I’m going to have to take a break from the blog so I can, well, study. However, please stay tuned! Until next time.