Luca Wang Sleeps with the Fishes

Don't front with a fo'ner.

Yesterday afternoon one of my Canadian coworkers was harrassed by a taxi driver. He tried to overcharge her, then he tried to lock her in his cab, at some point he kicked her in the stomach, and in the end it was simply a bad scene.

My coworker told our Chinese staff.

They called their boss.

She called her husband, the Chief of Police.

He dispatched a mob.

I found out this afternoon that the fronting cab driver was captured, physically beat by four police officers, then slapped with a fine.

I'm not sure how to feel about all this. One one hand it seems like justice was found, but on the other hand I'm not really sure if what was served was truly justice. Yeah, in a way, I'm happy the cab driver got his dues, but I'm not a fan of police beatings and if you grew up in the US when I did I don't know how anyone could be a fan. And as an SFS grad, institutions that work as such when inspired by personal connections and not responsibility, well, I won't get started there...

Hey, its New Year's Eve!

Total Anarchy

Christmas came to Harbin. That is for sure. But it did not stay long, at least not in spirit.

Sunday, Christmas Day, I spent 8 hours teaching. It wasn't bad, I was thankful to be around people and not alone for the holiday, even if 'being around people' meant doing my job. Most of the day I was quite chipper and playful, all save for one loss of temper to a kid who pushes my buttons every Sunday morning by throwing pencils or kabonging his classmates on their heads.

"IT MAY BE CHRISTMAS, NICK, BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN I HAVE TO BE NICE!"

Nick got the point. The rest of my classes were quite enjoyable. Once the working day was over the boss treated us to a Western style dinner at a restaurant everyone, for sone reason, kept describing as "posh." The spread was nice, though the comfort foods of my own Christmas Past lay absent from the table, but so did traditional Chinese fare and that was good enough for me. Plus I smuggled in my last bottle of Dewars. Hooray.

Waking up on the 26th I had no commitment till our school's Christmas Party at 6 PM. The day was relaxing, but it didn't matter. Not once that party started.

I guess this Christmas Party is a yearly event, or at least is attempting to become one as this was the "Second Annual." Night 1, the 26th, we had invited the older students. Night 2 would be the littler ones. I was supposedly hosting Night 2 but I didnt know what that entailed. Once I saw how Night 1 was going down, I realized noone had any idea what anything entailed.

Monday night, for over two hours, I simply sat in a chair and slowly lost hearing to an infernal din of screaming kids, popping balloons, and incessent feedback. No one could hear any performance. The "hostess" never did anything after her first little introduction. The kids were bored, discipline and organization were no where to be seen, and in the end it just became a free-for-all as gifts were attempted to be handed out by raffle or by Santa.

I won't lie, it was hysterical to watch the kids storm screaming for gifts or candy only then to watch them drop one by one as flying treats smacked them in eyes, noses, and other areas across the general face area.

Determined to avoid these problems while taking my turn as host (Night 1 only had a single Chinese staff member hosting, Night 2 was supposed to be me, a Chinese staff member, and two kids) I spent most of Night 1 discussing with my co-hostess everything that was going wrong and how we could fix it for our night. We came up with a long list of good ideas that we both liked a lot and that the other Chinese girls thought were great ideas. With hope, Night 2 wouldn't be the fiasco Night 1 became after only 10 minutes.

Well, I've learned the power of the boss in China. All-encompassing. Unquestionable. Blind. Most every suggestion got shot down, and the girls (who after 10 months have come to trust me quite a bit) all told me they disagreed with the boss but they couldn't do anything about it. I follow a "function before form" philosophy, the boss the inverse, and each to such an extent that the language barrier is far from our biggest problem. Good example: my co-hostess, who thought it was a revolutionarily amazing idea to have all the staff meet an hour before the party to simply walk through the program and understand who would be responsible for what, didn't show up to the school until 30 minutes before the show. Why? Because the boss didn't approve of her make-up (it was tastefully done) and wanted more make-up (trailer-trash quantities) applied and the prom dress slightly altered. Why? Who cares? Moments before the show? Removing the only staff member who had the answers to all questions? I dunno.

Night 2 did go better than Night 1. We ended on time, kept everything in the program, and the kids were comparatively well-behaved. Not that I haven't had my share of Exedrin lately or that my ears are still ringing.

And now it is back to business as usual. There is a silly schedule flip up mix around, as there seems to be whenever anyone in China gets a day off work... I really don't know how to explain this but I'll try in person at some point. Anyways, this week defines a slack schedule but next week I'm getting slammed with two weekends. It'll take a lot out of me, but thanks to my schedule as is (heavy weekends, little during the week) its going to put a nice wad of RMB in my pocket. So I got that goin' for me.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

I faltered in my Christmas postings, but I'm making up for it in spades.

It snowed today, and I mean really snowed. Up until now, I hadn't really seen a flake. It seemed more that it got cold and a heavy layer of frost materialized upon the surfaces of Harbin. But today brought snow. Christmas Eve brought snow. This is bigger than big for me. This is huge. Bowlful of jelly huge.

I started the day with the littlest of my little childrens, my Go-Go class. Usually I dread these munchkins, but today I couldn't stop laughing with them. We made stockings out of paper and during the mid-class break I snuck gifts of pencils and pig-shaped erasers in while they were not looking. The response was wild. The second half of class was all "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" and "Jingle Bells." Normally these carols would ring the crazy right into me, but today the choreography my TA had arranged was just too damn cute. And that little racist kid I've mentioned (bless his heart) just kept prancing around like a ballerina.

In the afternoon, with my pre-teens, we did a "Night Before Christmas" mad-lib and wrote letters to Santa. Many of those kids wanted AK-47s, one wanted a magic broom like Harry Potter's, and the girls just wanted the boys to shut up. The night, and its advanced class, consisted of "A Christmas Carol" (well, the Mickey version), "A Charlie Brown Christmas," and finally, "Twas the Night Before Christmas."

But the real fun begins now.

No one made any plans to exchange gifts. Even the girlfriends/boyfriends agreed not to buy each other any thing, or if they did, it was a joint effort and resulted in toaster ovens or sweaters for dogs. I'm the guy who rejected Secret Santa. I'm the guy whos been running around like a headless chicken for the past week. I'm also the guy who has a bagful of gifts for everyone at my feet.

In an hour I'm sneaking back into my school with said bagful of gifts and a Christmas tree. We don't have a Christmas tree in our school, at least not a proper one. So I'm bringing mine in. Shall be glorious. I've got teddy bears and candy for all the Chinese girls, handpicked gifts for my fellow foreigners, and finally cookies and treats to spread out all around.

That not enough? Well, I made a big deal about leaving cookies out for Santa in our lobby. I stood guard and scolded any kid who dared touch the precious baked goods. "Thems be Santa's cookies," sez I, "and ye best leave them be!"

Want more? I've composed a poem that I'll be sending from an anonymous account later tonight. In true Bill fashion, no one will really understand it until they see the decked out hall I'll be leaving for the morning surprise. Then it will all click.

I'm exceptionally excited. I've been a kid at Christmas before, but this is the first time I've ever really played Santa. I got to tell you, right now, it feels like a much greater high. I envy those Santas who graced this child's eyes with Christmas Day surprises like 1988's Nintendo Entertainment System. Dollars to donuts I can get that particular Mrs. Claus to cry when I give the old Byfield outpost of the North Pole workshop a call tomorrow.

But now the magic hour approaches, and before this here Santa boards his slay his must check upon his Christmas Chili and down a bit more of his Christmas Spirit (yes, Aunt K, I am enjoying my Dewars). When it's all said and done I'll be setting to my traditional Christmas Eve emailing. When I wake up tomorrow I'll be back in the fray of 8 hours of teaching, but it won't be so bad. I'll know that that while I'll be teaching the entire morning, back in Byfield there will be the usual monstrous festivity on 1 Johnson Lane. How I wish I could be there. But, while I can't: to the Robinsons, the Stoehrs, the Galinos, the Boisverts, the Marinos and all of Byfield; to the Kearns, the Burkes, the Weiss' (yes, I know you're Jewish), the Dwyers, the Wintermantels, the Norwoods, the Cooneys, the Chiltons, the Mrazics, the Byrnetts, the Gerardens, the Ayers, the Bergs, the Storys, the Bunnetts, the Flathers, and all Phillipians and Hoyas; to the BALers, to the Sunshiners (let them be Chinese, Canadian, Australian, or American); to Aunt Kaethe and all the O'Neil aunts, uncles, and cousins; and especially to Kodak, Allie, Quinn, Brendan, Mom, and Dad:

Merry Christmas!

China: Where the Hell is the the Egg Nog?!

Or the Nog of any kind?

Related: Simpsons really have already done everything.

Another Notch on the Cross

Well, I'm 25 now. In related news, I ache all over. I do not think I need to explain the correlation between these two occurences.

Thank you to all who sent well wishes. I, myself, am terrible when it comes to remembering birthdays so I am always shocked when people remember my own. If only I had some sort of record-keeping device that could track the days of the year and tell me when important events were scheduled to happen... if only...


Anyways, thank you to my parents and siblings, all my other relatives (Aunt Kaethe has got my sense of humor nailed, see adjoining picture), my friends back home and my friends here in China. Most surprising, many of my students even gave me gifts and cards proving that despite my lack of confidence in my actual teaching ability I do run an excellent cult of personality. You all made this crank's day.

Now, not to brag so much as to share, let me show off some of my gifts.

First up is this cup gifted by the lovely little teaching assistant Sissi. We still can't decide if it should be a drinking vessel or a pencil holder, but that is besides the point. The outside of the cup depicts four different plants; (I think) bamboo, chrysanthemums, orchids and something else. Sissi enlightened me that these plants represent four qualities the Chinese believe will lead to a long life: (again, I think) temperance, stability, patience, and something else. When Sissi told me that she chose this gift because these were qualities she found strong in my own character I could not help but guffaw. Yes, guffaw. "Thank you for the compliment, Sissi, but I don't know if I'll agree with you so easily. But I will look to this cup everytime a student pushes my nerves a bit too far. Then, if they keep pushing, I'll hurl this cup at their head."

Here's a card from one of my pre-teen students:

Thank you Joyce. So do I.

Finally, and I'm hoping this is more due to the fact that these are gifts from 13/14 year old girls and not due to some vibe I was unaware I was setting off...

Not to sound gay or nothin', but I think dolphins are totally kickass.

Now, while I am poking a bit of fun, these gifts actually mean a lot to me. Wendy's, Lucy's, and Clare's sentiments hit home and really made this 25th quite special. Thank you, girls.

Now what will the next year hold for our adventurous hero? Lord only knows. The immediate future likely holds the initial foray into the Moore Bonds, then sweet sweet sleep. I'm getting old, after all.

From the WTF Files...

The following is a translated transcript from my 8AM Saturday morning 5 yr olds class:

"Hello Teacher! Guess what?!"
"What?"
"I've got cancer on my brain! Yippee!"

O Tannenbaum

Where's Linus when I need him?

Thank You

Last spring, while still green towards this whole teaching gig, I found myself working my way through 18 weeks of "Literature" for English majors at the Harbin University of Science and Technology. The department assigned "Robinson Crusoe" and "A Tale of Two Cities," a pair of books that deserve good attention but a pair of books that proved an almost insurmountable task for the students assigned to my class.

In the end, despite a small handful of good students, I walked away from that experience rather jaded. Too much went wrong. Too often was my careful planning thrown back in my face. The harder I tried the more I seemed to fail, and the less I cared the better it seemed to go.

Eleven weeks ago I was given a new assignment, one that didn't exactly perk my enthusiasm. I had been scheming and coniving since the June to lock my scheduled hours into a configuration that guaranteed I'd never have to teach at HUST again. I didn't think I could handle the disappointment that first experience served all over again. And certainly not with a once-a-week, three-hour, no-direction-given-whatsoever non-English-major course.

I'm happy to say these kids proved me wrong.

I've explained how many Chinese students are forced into the English major as their admission scores were not high enough for other subjects. The result of all this usually manifests itself as lethargy or apathy towards their studies. But these kids were shooting for a second degree, they didn't view English as a requirement but as an opportunity. And that made all the difference in the world.

They were law majors and computer science majors. Some had ridiculous names like Mermaid or Garfield (a girl, yes, named after that craptacular movie) or Oven. Some never came to class and subsequently failed their exam yesterday, but most came and many participated wholeheartedly.

They'll probably never see this, and even if they did they probably wouldn't understand it. In fact, if you've never taught it'd be difficult for anyone to understand it, but those kids gave me a little faith back; back in China, back in teaching, and back in myself. Thanks.



PS: If you noticed the blackboard, yes, I was referencing "The Matrix" as we were doing some riddles and the topic of anagrams came up. As long as it gets the students to start talking, I don't care how trite or worn any topic may be.

The Way Things (Shouldn't) Work

Here's something I never thought I'd be homesick for: paying bills.

My utilities are not many, and they are not expensive, but they can be damn annoying. I've got water (well, sometimes), gas, internet, electricity, and garbage disposal. Garbage disposal consists of an old woman who supposedly walks up and down my unit stairs all day sweeping and taking out the trash that we, the tenants, throw into the hallway. Yes, that is the way we take out our trash, we just through it out the door into the hall. Its fun when youre drunk and or bored.

So where is my complaint? Well, look at the picture of my outer door above. You should see a good number of ripped off postings and these are my bills. At least some of them. Basically what happens is that, perhaps, I pay for electricity, maybe paying for how much I have recently used or maybe paying forward and establishing a credit, and then when the company decides it wants to collect a debt or my credit goes dry someone sticks a posting outside my door or outside my unit door. After they stick the bill on the door maybe you get three days to find a payment office and settle up.

I can't figure out how these collections are timed, all I know is that they are never timed conveniently. For instance, if the bill gets posted on Thursday I most likely won't have time to pay it before Monday due to my teaching schedule. That means I will probably wake up after the weekend to no electricity. Also, I can't pay these things myself, no matter how hard I try, so I also need to find some help, which is annoying.

Then there is the internet, which doesn't give any sort of warning, they just shut off my connection when my money runs dry.

The oddest of all has got to be the little old ladies who knock on my door and scream for payment. Water and garbage disposal get taken care of in this manner. Again, its somewhat, er, spastic in execution. I used to pay every other month for garbage, a decently regular schedule, but I havent seen that woman since perhaps September. As for water, I paid my first water bill last month. For nine months it totalled about US$2.

I've never paid for gas.

Sure, its all cheap, but its annoying. I long for the days of instant credit card payments, monthly statements, and warnings months in advance. I can understand when my electricity gets shut off because I'm broke or delinquent, but it drives me insane if its due to a flawed and lazy system.

Good Perro!

The Aeroperro (one of the only two blogs I can still read) found a great video of Chinese driving skills. Download it from here: http://home.pacific.net.au/~bhaz-dsl/nanchang.wmv

Few notes:
1. Whoever put this together doesn't have very good PinYin
2. Harbin drivers are notorious for being China's worst. This video would be a good day at the intersection 3 blocks from my apartment.

Entertainment's Value

The other day my father, fully aware of my vices, asked if there were any special DVDs he could send me for Christmas. This is my reply:






Thanks Dad, but I'm doin' fine.

Since arriving in China I've made close to 200 DVD purchases. Some of these have been TV shows, some box sets; and so in all well over 200 individual DVDs.

You can find a DVD store on almost any corner here and most discs run betweem 6 and 8 RMB. Sometimes the quality halts at man-with-camera-in-theater, sometimes its a pre-release item given to critics to review ("screeners"), often a perfect copy of the acutal release (though likely sans-special features). The hard part is finding anything thats not exceptionally mainstream or uber-popular and it is certainly not difficuly to find crap. "Garfield," for instance, is still a top seller here in China.

We teachers lend a lot of movies and TV shows around, encouraging others to try something we discovered in the local DVD bin. My copy of "Lost - Season 1" quickly made rounds through the entire staff and some of the girls are burning through "Seanfield." One of our new guys asked for a load of zombie movies one day (and got "Night of the Living Dead," "Undead," "Shaun of the Dead," "Beyond Re-Animator," "Army of Darkness," "Resident Evil 1 & 2," "Friday the 13th Part 1," and "Land of the Dead") and tonight I'll be picking out children's movies for our winter camp.

So, again Dad, I think I'm doing fine. But is there something I can get you?

PS- In your eye, Scott Weiss!

Those Other Holidays (C-15)

I'll be one of the first to admit that I might not be the most qualified to really teach about Hannukha or Kwanzaa, but I am the only one I know doing it in China. And while I was born, bred, and baptized Roman Catholic (every sperm is sacred...) it doesn't mean I'm blind to other traditions. Of course, I'm American, which means I was lucky enough to have been raised with open eyes. Now, for some reason, I'm knee-deep in Chinese who barely understand the faith which is supposedly my own and I find myself compelled to teach about those which are not. Again, this is probably because I'm American.

So this week I've done two lessons, both in my advanced classes, revolving around these two celebrations. My info comes straight from the World Book Encylcopedia with a little (again, little) personal experience thrown in (eg: I am aware that Hannukha is not the highest of Jewish holidays, and I do make sure to communicate that to my students). It works out nicely because the two have many similar aspects that my brightest kids immediately link. I feeled justified because their eyes are opening to something outside of either China or Hollywood. Plus I know that somewhere Jon Lovitz is smiling.

However, if you havent sumised yourself, I still know next to nothing about Kwanzaa. But I am trying. It makes more sense than Boxing Day, I'll tell you that much.

So put on your yamulke, and drink your gin-and-tonic-a, and have a happy happy happy happy Hannukha. And Kwanzaa!

That Which Shall Not Be Named

When you're making your way through a foreign land you should be aware that certain words should be avoided. Since arriving in China I've been conscious enough to keep from making even the slightest joke upon the people swarming around me. Being PC is all well and good, but its all for naught here as they either 1. don't understand that a few words/phrases in the English language are derogatory towards them or 2. they actually think its funny; e.g. 'slant eyes' or 'yellow people.' I've never introduced these terms myself, my students blurb them out. I just tell them to shut up.

However there is one word I now actively avoid using at all costs. "Friend." Yeah. Don't say it.

All Chinese understand this word, but it means much more to them than it might to us. Friendship in China is much more complex than back home and a "friend" can pervade every aspect of your life. Some Chinese do monopolize on this belief, I refer to that strain as "Users" and they are horrendously annoying. These are the students who come to sit in my class, state "I hope we can be friends," and if I oblige they immediately ask me to write their application essays for US universities (They also want me to do this for free and have no intention of ever returning to my class). These are the people who sit next to me in KFC and if I consent to a desire for "friendship" I'm barraged with requests to follow them to a disco or party where they'd like to show me off to their friends. These are the situations that I now avoid with my patented variety of vague answer. Ah, to be a politician.

I have friends in China and some are Chinese. I've got a good number of friends back home, all of whom I miss. These are people who don't ask me for anything but who I probably give the most. They certainly arent showing me off like some prize animal or using me to squirm into the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave. They also probably realize that this entry is poorly written drivel and will mock me for posting it. Tough. I'm tired.

Three Snowy Vignettes (C-16)

I.
Turkey Hill stood as the greatest of sledding slopes: a sharp drop from the top till about mid-way, a sudden and short plateau, then a gradual decline to the stone wall guarding adventurous children from the seldom-used back road and opposing lake.

My sled was a long, blue plastic bullet ridged specially to cut the snow while providing control. Gripping both sides in my hands, I charge down the hill in hopes to kicking up enough inertia to really launch off the mogul we had piled upon that mid-way plateau.

Hitting the snow belly first (and simultaneously knocking the wind out of my lungs) I instantly realized that not only would I nail that jump, but some serious air would be put between the tundra and my eight year old frame. Sure enough, both came true as I hurtled into the atmosphere.

“Hurtled” really is the best word, for immediately after hitting the jump my hands let loose the sled and my body began some variety of triple-half-gainer-Immelian-lutz or another stunt that would grab the envy of the entire Flying Circus. Regardless, all instincts told me that this monumental jump would end in nothing but a mighty face plant.

Surprised was I when I landed firmly back on my sled and continued to rocket down that hill. Face first into that stone wall. Through the stone wall. Across the backroad. Out onto the frozen lake. Finally skidding to a halt. Realizing that no sledding experience could ever top that single run. None ever did.

II.
Rockwell had mustered up 30 or so of the 44 high school freshmen who lived in the dorm to challenge the few stragglers left in America House that night to a snowy rumble. Boarding only 15 first year students, half of whom were somewhere else, the odds did not look good. Regardless, we plucky few agreed to meet at a designated corner of the Great Lawn.

It began as most adolescent fights begin: lots of name calling, little action. No one wanted to be the instigator for anything that might actually get them in real trouble. Certainly not the quiet kid wearing glasses who barely spoke, a.k.a. yours truly. But for some reason something snapped and I took a challenge that was meant for my roommate.

Now, my roommate was a scrappy bastard from Topeka who had seen his fair share of tussles. I was not, nor had I. But I had been on the JV wrestling team for almost two weeks (my roommate was already varsity), so I thought I had everything under control.

The fact that my opponent was a 300 pound Korean named Cho didn’t phase me a bit. Not at first at least. We circled, I made the first move, shooting in to manipulate his balance into a trip. Well, he just sat on me.

If you’ve never had 300 pounds of Korean pushing your face into the snow, don’t try it. My cheeks began to lose feeling as fast as my dormmates were losing honor, respect, and hope. No one thought this was going to end prettily. And no one ever thought I’d actually lift those 300 pounds of Korean off my head, roll them back into the snow, and then bestow one of the most riotous whitewashings ever given.

III.
I had finally arrived in China. In a week’s time I’d be in Harbin, a city nestled deep in the Manchurian Plain and (in)famous for its chill. And even though Harbin was known as the “Ice City,” that day Beijing itself was a frozen white blur.

Saying that I had arrived in China doesn’t necessarily mean my luggage had. No, my warm clothes and insulated boots apparently ended up on a separate slow boat. All that had arrived with me were my t-shirts and underwear and the sweat shirt and coat I had worn on the plane. Outside of that: nothing that was going to effectively confront the snow coming down outside; certainly not my ratty old sneakers. (My boots were in the lost luggage as well.)

But confront it must, as I needed to exchange my traveler’s checks so I could pay for another night in my room instead of sleeping in the street. Too bad it was a government holiday. After several banks and even more kilometers, I finally had the cash I needed and so I paid up and retired to my hotel room. Cranking the heating and changing out of my snow-soaked clothes I nestled into bed with a hot cup of tea in an effort to ward off any impending ganmao or at least defrost my bones.

I was aching, shivering, congested, and beat to the core. It was my first day back in China.

Christmas Wonder (C-17)

Yesterday I finally caved. I had been staring at it since I first arrived in Harbin but could never justify the purchase until now.

Stevie Wonder's "The Christmas Collection" is a excellent piece of funked-out, soulful holiday music. I've stated my distaste for celebrity Christmas albums as I find most paltry and shallow, but not Stevie's. And as "The Collection" originally debuted in 1967 it fits my 'pre-Very Special Christmas Vol. 1' criteria. So thank you Stevie, thank you for funkin' up my holidays.

1988 (C-18)

1988 stands a watershed in the life of Bill. I was in second grade, Mrs. Roma Byrd's class at the Yellow School. There was probably an Olympics going on. I was introduced to Roald Dahl. Apparently my sister was born. But something much greater happend on that Christmas of Chistmases. A love affair began.

Santa gave me a Nintendo Entertainment System.

It's shocking but yet commonplace if you think about it. The video game revolution was breaking out across the country as a duo of plumbers hopped, bashed, and hurled fireballs as they made there way through the Mushroom Kingdom, told frustratingly time after time that the princess was in another castle. From that Christmas on I don't think I knew a kid without a video game system of some kind.

I remember warping the first time from 1-2 to 4-1, then 4-2 to 8-1 and then never making it past 8-3; dying each time as my grandfather mocked my every pratfall. I remember waking up to a surprise gift of Ninja Gaiden from my mother (I finally beat it freshman year at G-town). I remember anticipating every new issue of Nintendo Power and noting every issue my mother has supposedly not thrown away. I remember saving up for a year for Super Nintendo and laughing at Genesis. After that came N64. Then there was Mario Kart in French House, Bond in Foxcroft, and that week during finals where Soto, Moger and myself plowed through the newest Zelda game as Bangus watched. And yes, I was mocked for purchasing a GameCube, but I maintain that it had some of the finest games for this past generation of home consoles.

Anyways, I've scrimped and saved for new Nintendo games, I've studied strategy guides and I continue to play SNES RPGs through an emulater on my laptop. In short: I'm a total dork. A Nintendo star. I accept that. But I'll never forget nor look down upon that Christmas where I torn back wrappin to find one of the most life-changing wastes-of-time of my life.

God bless you, one and all.

The Innocence of a Child (C-19)

This is Bart. Bart is always happy and excited. Bart thinks everything is awesome. Bart enjoys coloring and dancing in my class on Saturday morning. It's good to be Bart.

Be like the boy!

Buy Good Stuff Cheap (C-20)

I've already whined enough about the cold here, and well, it finally got to me. The coat I came to Harbin with just doesn't cut it anymore, largely because I can not close it all the way up to my neck to keep me warm as the wind howls down upon me. So today I went to get some proper sub-arctic outerwear.

I could have bought an extremely warm parka for roughly 100RMB, but I wanted something that wasn't ugly as sin or simply ridiculous looking. Being a fan of North Face jackets since they became cool in high school, I headed to the foreign "import" (read: fell of a truck) street. I quickly found a jacket I liked that would supply the protection I needed, and then the bargaining began.

"How much for this jacket?" said I, in Chinese, to the store clerk.
"That jacket? 760 RMB."
"You're crazy! I was here with my friend last Monday and he bought a similar jacket from the same company much much cheaper than that!"
"Well, how much did your friend pay?"

Never tell a clerk what someone else might have paid in China, because if its higher than their low-end, they'll never let you bargain down. Trust me on this one.

"He didn't pay 760RMB. Give it to me cheaper."
"Ok ok. How much do you want to pay?" She wasn't going to make the first move.

My friend paid 360RMB for his, I figured I should try and undercut that by about a hundred to end up at a fair price.

"250RMB."

At this point she had to go and ask her boss if my price was cool or not. This is usually a very good sign that you're actually near the fair price, or at least the lowest that the underling store clerk is allowed to go without an OK from management. She returned and simply said:

"Ok. 220RMB. Good?"

I wasn't quite sure how that worked out, but I got out-bargained BY THE STORE I WAS BARGAINING WITH. I didn't argue though. And now I have a rather warm North Face jacket that only cost me 220RMB (about US$25). Hooray for me.

The View from My Apartment This Morning (C-21)

A little snow can go a long way.

If you're interested, my school/office is right on the other side of that bridge, but you can't see it in this picture. Albeit it short, it is an extremely cold walk (and longer than this picture would have you believe, because I need to snake out of my courtyard before I even hit the street).

Fun While It Lasted

There that goes. Appears as if the glorious PRC has once again placed my blog site, as well as anyone else's, behind the Great Firewall. This means that, once again, I'll be incapable of viewing my own posts or anyone else's who is hosted by blogspot.com.

The most annoying part of this is that I was just getting fully sucked into the "blogosphere." I had experienced an "instalanche" and I was linking with strangers. Sounds dangerous, I know, but I used protection. (Somewhere someone will laugh at that.)

My own blog aside (and all those other wonderfully addictive blogs listed on the side of my page there), the People's Republic went even further this time, rolling previously available sites behind the GFW, e.g. the Wall Street Journal. I'm not sure why the sudden crackdown on a reputed news source that previously stood on good terms with the Party gets the axe, but, well, there that went.

The censored media will never cease to shock me. As an American, it is difficult to imagine a life where I can't say/write/publish/read/hear/disseminate anything I wish. I constructed an activity a while ago that revolved around things Americans took for granted (milk comes in cartons or jugs, not bags; the date is mm/dd/yy; etc.) and the first item on the list was simply the First Amendment. Many of my students couldn't comprehend it.

I know the American media can be annoying. They can over-analyze, over-hype, under-play, and hound you at every corner; but I'd rather constant unwanted information at my command than a drought of desired. Check my posts around the times of the London bombing, Katrina, or the recent water fiasco here in Harbin. I can't handle being out of the loop, and you can't fault the American media for ever letting anyone fall out of the loop.

Maybe the Chinese need the censorship for a reason, but I can't think of any that I could ever agree with. But then, well, American in China = culture gap the size of the Pacific.

So, in the meantime, please send me emails of good articles from reliable sources if I'm to keep up with the rest of the world. In the meantime, I'll be sitting around waiting for the local newspaper to dry.

UPDATE: Another perfect example: A 250,000+ man protest marched the streets of Kong Kong yesterday in support of democracy. This event was not reported by the Chinese-language newspapers. It received only a small mention from the (yes, "the") English-language newspaper here. However, the English language newspaper did not mention the number "250,000+," but only described the quantity off protesters as being "a few."

White Powder (C-22)

The season's first dusting fell upon Harbin today. It's nothing major, but still well appreciated. I love the snow, always have. Maybe it's because I always liked the look of our family's house covered in a heavy drift with only the ribbons on the wreaths shining out. Or maybe I just like the idea of white-washing brothers/dormmates/friendly Koreans. Regardless, hooray!

Sweet Silver Bells (C-23)

Without a doubt, "Carol of the Bells" stands as my favorite Christmas song. Its always the first I download every season, and its usually the one that gets played the most frequently and lasts the longest before final deletion (until next year).

Back in grade school when I had dreams of alto saxophone virtuosity my school played an annual concert on the Newbury Town Mall (New England-speak for a park where we used to graze cows) next to the frozen pond. Being a grade school saxaphonist wasn't all the glitz and glamour that one associates with high-school or college-level saxophoning, most songs leave you nothing but bass support to the hooty-tooty flutes and clarinets. "Carol of the Bells" offered one of the few chances to really bellow out, and to do that while standing in the cold as scores of (obligated) parents watched on, well, its a good memory.

Plus few people know the words to "Carol of the Bells," and if you do, you know that they are nothing profound or outstanding. But they are certainly not annoying or excessively saccharine. I'm a fan of "Dominik the Christmas Donkey" as much as the next guy, but I prefer the majesty and awe that "Carol" instills within. Musically it is quite simple, nothing more than a layered canon, but that makes it all the better for whistling.

Runners up included: "Good King Wenceslas," "We Three Kings," and the theme from "Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown." Not even considered were: any celebrity/artist Christmas album post-"A Very Special Christmas Vol 1," "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth," and "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer."

Commence The Christmas Countdown! (C-24)

In an effort to help myself get into the Christmas spirit (which I predict might be tough here) I'm going to post one post everyday that has something to do with Christmas' past, Christmas culture, or small nuggets of joy that I might stumble upon here in China this Christmas season. Basically things that once made me happy or things that are making me happy now.

But don't worry! I'll not leave you without my usual whining and over-analyzation! But if I only focus on that, I'd probably wake up to nothing more than a big pile of coal on Christmas day!

Oh. Wait.