Ray Charles Had Some Good Advice

A'ight. Tomorrow we begin the third big adventure, one which I might just call "The Legend of China: A Bill to the Past."

I'm heading to Xi'An, the ancient capital of China and one of its first and most frequent. On the docket: terra-cotta warriors! Yes, these millenial-old statues marched into the afterlife alongside Emperor Qin. What else: A vibrant Muslim quarter as Xi'An stands as the gateway to China's west. And lets not forget Hua Shan, the summit of choice for this romp. There will be more of course, but I don't want to give it all away.

It's a plane ride tomorrow, first to Beijing for a nice layover and then onto Xi'An by evening. Coming home its a train ride: only 20+ hours, surprisingly. I'm hoping to catch some of the rigid ShanXi landscape from my bunk. Plus training it home saves a chunk 'o' cash.

The 40G loaded up a handful of new albums to explore during the travel. Here's the line-up:
Wilco: A Ghost is Born
U2: How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
Ray!: Soundtrack
The Triplets of Belleville: Soundtrack
The Motorcycle Diaries: Soundtrack
Stan Getz: Big Band Bossa Nova
The Beatles: Let It Be... Naked
Nas: Illmatic

Music selection varies around Harbin, and I gotta wonder where and how some things seem to get popular here, but as CDs are quite cheap, its fun to experiment. And affordable.

So thats that, time to sign off for a week or so... officially. I'll be back with a detailed rundown as soon as I can.

Happy Chinese New Year. XinNian KuaiLe. WanShi(r)RuYi. Gong Xi Fa Qian. ZaiJian!

Holiday Road

China has got some whacky ideas concerning scheduling (there is currently a big debate about the definition of overtime and "24 hours a week" around my office) but the schools do follow a understandable two-semester system with equally long breaks in the winter and summer. The winter break, which we're on right now, is long because it has to accomodate Spring Festival (Chinese New Year) which no one ever seems to know when its going to happen till a month before. And as it goes on for 15 days they need enough elbow room to swing it.

But the necessity to improve ones worth is unceasing in China, what with so many people and not so many jobs or spots in schools. So even if a kid gets a vacation from public school he probably gets a boat load of hours at other extracurricular schools during the vacation time. School like mine.

We call these classes "camp," but don't think it to be all macaroni pictures and panty raids. In fact, its just regular class at an irregular time. But luckily for the teenaged students, we do take them out of Harbin for a few nights to a 'holiday house.'

Spending time with these teenagers really demonstrated some major contrasts between childhood in China and back in the States. The activities that really grabbed these kids would not only have seemed commonplace to my eyes when I was that aged but probably blase if not flat out lame. Surprisingly enough, the 20-something TAs had just as much fun as the teenagers.

For me it was just a nice break from the city. I got to see the stars, experience cold in the neighborhood of -30F, get some swimming and bowling in, and just get a change of scenery. They had a ski hill too, but it was about as large as my neighbor's front yard back in Byfield where we used to sled as kids. Certainly not a ski hill.

Again, I'd write more but I'm pressed for time. I'll give a preview of the upcoming travel tonight.

Bring It, Bitch

Spring Festival approaches, and with it we welcome the Year of the Dog. Plus the requisite Golden Week of Travel. Plus the prerequisite wining and dining. And more wining. Then maybe karaoke. Luckily, avoiding the trashy Russian bar everyone goes to when too tanked to function.

If you haven't guessed from the picture, I opted to show off my newly tailor-made three piece navy suit. Its quality. And I wont tell you how much it cost, because you probably wouldn't believe me. I'm going to have two more made, one grey flannel, and then an undetermined color. I don't think I'm a pinstripe guy, so I'm thinking of another color altogether, but I digress.

But take heed, if you don't expect rambling, you're at the wrong blog. Again, I digress.

Last night we had a bi-monthly full staff meeting. It lasted two hours, and we finally got these ridiculous teacher evaluations redesigned so that we can get applicable feedback from our classes. The old form had a question "Is the class too fast or too slow?" And all you'd be told is "9.6." What the hell did 9.6 mean? Is 10 fast and 1 slow? Is It Yes/No? What? Don't worry about it? Oh Christ. We're all pretty happy around the "waijiao bangongshi" (gongbanshi? i always get confused on this one) towards the change. Lesa gave a lecture on the psychology of toddlers and pre-teens. We played a crazy language/communication game that was surprisingly fun.

Then we got to the Golden Elephant, Harbin's 6 floor "Thai" hot spot. We got a history here: riotous feasting the evening after school-wide rafting trip and that first night I really got to know Bob and met a host at this very restaurant named Babu who makes these delicious peanut butter crisp cake dealies off-menu. Couldn't find ol' Babu last night, so no peanut butter delights. Most of what we got wasn't so much "Thai" as just high-end Chinense served in golden, elephant-shaped bowls. Don't get me wrong, it was well-received, but, I don't want to get into it now.

But we got entertainment on top of the food! The girls at our main branch put together a little song and dance routine that involved Sun, our driver, throwing a paper cut-out of dog turd around the floor. The girls from the other branch did the Macarena. Heeeeeey! Macarena! Ai! Ai! Ai! If we had any more Chinese staff I would have expected the Funky Chicken (isn't that the name of the crazy over-played polka that has a dance associated with it that invloves flapping your arms like chicken wings?). Maybe the Icky Shuffle.

But the foreign staff fired back, and returned with the ol' pretend-your-fishing-and-catch-a-fish-which-is-acted-out-by-some-other-person boogie. I remember shaking my own butt.

After eating more than a bit we had some games. Hula hoops were involved. I had been out of the room when they divided up teams, so when I walked in I was swarmed by these little Chinese girls, all my co-workers, pulling and fighting over me. It's good to be Bill.

At some point a trivia question went down and i walked away with 1/4 of the prizes with a total of three: a washcloth that became my hat, a dangly charm of coins sown together into a bucky-ball type shape, and a huge bag of sunshine flower seeds.

It wasn't all fun and games though: there was HaPi to enjoy. If I've never told you, Harbin was the first place I ever lost sobriety, so the local brew is a little special for me. No preservatives, so you can't get it outside the city, and its cheap and its good. Hoo-rah.

We were also welcoming back two teachers, one who had been home visiting parents and another who came back after a few months hiatus. All were in a celebrant mood.

We eventually degraded to karaoke, but soon everyone's interest drifted and we began to break up. Actually, I think we were asked to leave or something, maybe our time allotment for the reservation was up, the place was closing, or what, I dunno.

I'll be blogging like crazy tomorrow. Or at least so me thinks. I gotta get some stories out (Holiday House adventures, Travel Plans, other stuff) before I take off for my vacation in ShanXi on Thursday. Keep your eyes peeled.

Xin Nian Kuai Le.

DUKE NUKED

You know that old breakdancing move where you spin on your back like crazy? I just did that on my floor after jumping off walls and punching the air and kicking a pile of books across the room.

Hibbidy Dibbidy.

I'm Going to Xi'An

Terra cotta warriors. Another moutain to climb. Big Buddha. It'll be great. I leave Thursday. I'll write more before then, as my health is back. In the meantime...

The Ol' Factory

I've been told that the sense of smell is the sense most closely linked to one's memory. I believe it. Now, as my nose slowly but surely re-opens (if you haven't kept up to date with my whining, I've been bloody sick for a week or so) I just took a good draw off my bottle of "Man of Aran," a cologne I picked up while traveling through Ireland's Burren with my family back in March '04. Instantly, boom, images of the ignatious landscape and brittle flowers poking out from in between weathered crevices flooded my mind. A nice break from the tedium of study and cold.
But it leads me to think, what smells will bring my mind back to China long after I leave? There are good smells: roasting nuts on the street, sweet potatoes being steamed, my favorite bowl of soup at my favorite soup hut. And the smell of a #2 meal from KFC. I hate to say it, but I'm programmed to water at the scent of a #2 spicy chicken sandwich. Sue me.
Unfortunately, I think I'm going to have many more less pleasant ones. And so I introduce my line of scents to bring one, mentally, back to Harbin long after having left:
- Parfum de Puking-Man-At-10AM
- Toliette Without Water
- Chanel #1.3 Billion Who Only Bath Maybe Once A Week
- Is That Fish?
- No, It's The Cook!
- Eau de Ewwwwwwwwww
- Musk of Snotty Toddler (For Men)
- Scent of Pissy Toddler (For Women)
- Black Lung (contains a top note of coal dust)
Please feel free to add your own in the comments section. I promise to read them once I'm no longer an enemy of a state.

I'm Not Dead...

I just feel that way. Or worse. I'm currently fighting through a fever/flu combo that blindsided me a week ago. Likely brought on by the extreme cold and dozens of snot-nosed toddlers coughing all over me every weekend. I'll be posting more regularly again once I can think straight and these visions of Hostess cakes participating in a synchonized swimming competition disappear.

-17

-17. Its -17 degrees out today. Faranheit. Christ. Cold. So very, very cold.

The Ballad of John McCarthy

There are strange things done under the Chinese sun
by those who teach young and old;
I have seen Great Walls and water falls
and eaten off dishes covered in mold;
The Harbin nights have seen fun sights
But the most enjoyable I ever did see;
Was that night quite nice and filled with ice
When I was visited by John McCarthy.


Now John and I are Hoyas and graduated in ought-three,
But as Harbin is mine, Qinghuangdao is home to Mr. McCarthy.
He set out on a trip which led to me, waiting at the Harbin train station,
I waited for him in the cold, grabbed his bags, and we set out for an international trade negotiation.


How we got invited to business such as this escapes my feeble mind,
We spent the morning avoiding serious talk or anyone not of our lowly kind.
As we talked of basketball and friends old memories did stir,
But most important was avoiding the Indian who internationally exported fur.


From lunch we went to shop, and from shop to a stroll,
And as we finalized the night's plans we downed beer to ward off the cold.
Then with tickets in our pockets and thermals under our jeans,
We boarded the bus for the famous Ice and Snow World of Harbin.


Oh the lights! On the magnificence! Oh the scope of it all!
Ice castles! Snow Buddhas! Even a sled-able Ice Great Wall!
With snow mobiles, tanks, and even an all-ice bar to enjoy,
I wasn't even shocked to see a life-sized Ice-Tolstoy!


Our party started with seven but quickly fell to two,
Leaving only John and I to see Ice and Snow World through.
But damn be the cold and damn be frostbite's fear,
As we were boozed up thanks to multiple bottles of beer!


When all was said and done the night continued on,
And once again we were with Jordan, Sarah, Rachael, Jenn, and Sean.
Over meat on sticks we made plans for the eve,
Drinks here, dances there, a drunken path we set to weave.


From SongJi to HIT, then later in the night,
A chic new club called "Babyface," where we were the only honkies in sight.
Steadfast Blues was the obvious next spot,
And finally Brezhnev's, whose dumplings I love. Not.


530 AM we got back home, partied out and spent,
Dreading the day's hangover and all of its torment.
There were a few more stories, but nothing worth a decree,
That one night was long and fun enough for Mr. McCarthy.


There are strange things done under the Chinese sun
by those who teach young and old;
I have seen Great Walls and water falls
and eaten off dishes covered in mold;
The Harbin nights have seen fun sights
But the most enjoyable I ever did see;
Was that night quite nice and filled with ice
When I was visited by John McCarthy.

He Might Be A Better Teacher, But...

I got better hair.

One of my comrades in arms, a strapping young buck from Canada way who took off in search of adventure and English teaching assignments across Asia, has got his own blog going for your enjoyment. While this buddy no longer resides in Harbin, he's still got a bit to say on the subject, and more on Canada, Asia, teaching, and life in whole.

Check out "A Canadian in Taiwan" at http://shawthai.blogspot.com

NOW!

Well, That Was Awesome

That might have been the best class I have ever taught. We discussed the difference between 'optician' and 'optometrist.' They dared me to take out my contact lens but they squealed when I called their bluff. Following half-time we proceeded to brainstorm then write about the components of a Good Life. One kid wrote that one must possess Good Prestidigitation (Go Victor!) and sassy little Shelly explained how life would only be misery without Good Hair.

Yes! My Students!

SIDENOTE: Read the Wall Street Journal, they've got a great little article on Harbin.

2,322 Days Later

I just did something I don't think I have done since I showed up on campus for my Freshmen year at Georgetown: I willingly put on a Dave Matthews album for my listening enjoyment.

Wow. A little weird.

Do not expect the same to happen for any other forsaken acts any time soon. I have already lost too much precious Oingo-Boingo time.

Some Call It Regression

Well, Happy New Year. Glad you finally caught up with me, I've been livin the 'ought-six' life hours longer than you. Im in the future. We got flyin cars.

Actually, we don't, and if anything you might say I'm living in the past. The past few days have been rough as my hot water heater conked out. This meant I could still shower, but it was only with water fresh from a pipe that runs outside through kilometers of -10F cold (yes, I just mixed metric and American, get used to it). Not exactly how I consider a good morning starting off... freeze burns. All the pain of being burnt by fire but with none of the fun!

Anyways, I got a repair dude over my apartment between classes today.
"So whats your problem?"
"My water heat is not heating water. The light is on, its plugged in, but it isn't doing anything."
"Mhm. This water heat here?"
"Yup, that is it. It isn't working."
"Not working, eh?"
"Yeah, its not heating water. I already told you."
"Uh-huh. Got it." *SLAM!!!* (Smacks the heater unit with an open palm) "It'll work now."

Have I been so coddled by Western technology that I couldn't slap a faulter heater properly? Am I so dependent on the guarantee that things will work properly that I would so easily oversee such a solution to such a problem? Is this worth complaining about, or should I truly be revelling in the greatness that is my homeland?

Six in one; I get by. This is far from the first bungled step I've taken with technology since I got here. Some have been easy as pie, some more annoying, while others I've just given up on. I know when I return I'll be agape at the ease of so many daily tasks.

Like laundry! I don't know why, but many readers have emailed me about my laundry situation. Well, I got an electric washer that I need to carry and dump water into (annoyingly tedious) combo'ed with a spin dryer. No heat in that dryer, just spinning. Spinning does little to nothing in getting your clothes dry, especially the heavy clothes we need up here on the tundra. So I hang my clothes. But, well, here is where I used to hang my clothes:

Thats my balcony about a month ago. You can't see much through the windows as they are covered in ice, now even more than when that picture was taken. Actually, the ice level really jumped around Christmas when I was making chili out there. Now the walls are lined with (what I can only imagine to be) delicious chili-ice. My coworkers are waiting for the day I call in sick because my tongue is frozen to my wall.

Chili-ice or not, that balcony is now damn cold. Too cold to dry my clothes before yielding a crop of stainsicles. So we improvise. And now my kitchen looks more like this:

I really should just pay the $.50 for dry cleaning.