Adam's Adventures 2.0

Zoom, zoom, zoom....

2011-09-24T17:48:00.000-07:00

The first thing that strikes you as you approach is the sound. Incessant and loud, it sounds otherworldly - as if some alien species of locust had descended upon Earth and were walking the streets. The sounds were not from alien locusts however, but alien in a different way - they were F1 race cars. I attended the Singapore Night F1 time trials last night, which was replete with all the trappings of a big event, including a concert by Shakira. (More on her later - but let's just say she is easy to look at:))
As I approached the entry gate, I was immediately struck by the difference in security here in Singapore. The guards that do big events are called Gurkhas. Big, intimidating and wielding a famous(some would say infamous) machete in the belts of their pants, Gurkhas require respect, if not fear, upon first inspection. As I approached the gate, three Gurkhas surrounded me, causing me to contemplate for just a moment how to defend oneself against a machete attack. Alas, they just wanted to see my ticket - which I provided in a very slow motion - moving my hands slowly into my pockets and then lifting the tickets slowly out - I've seen enough cop shows to know the exact way to do this. I also tried to plaster a disarming smile on my face, but that didn't seem to matter to the Gurkhas. I got the sense (and maybe I imagined it) that the biggest Gurkha, who also seemed to be the leader, was slightly disappointed he didn't get a chance to slice me with his machete.
After passing through the gate, my friends and I ended up in an open field which had a stage on one end and food all around.
One thing about the concert - and my friends and I briefly discussed this - is whether or not it is appropriate concert etiquette to put your young son/daughter on your shoulders - making a 5 ft 11 inch man now approximately 7 ft tall. It seems that a lot of people where doing this, and that they were clustered right in front of us.
Shakira was good - she is more eye candy than music talent in my opinion - not that I really cared - but she had a couple of danceable tunes. The video for the F-1 is below - it was taken as I approached the gate - I think you can see the Gurkhas, and you can definitely hear the cars in the street a few feet ahead of me. Enjoy - but don't forget your earplugs.

A long time coming....

2011-09-15T14:39:00.000-07:00

Alright faithful readers of my recently dormant blog - you are about to be rewarded with an eruption of stories, pictures and various and sundry other methods of story telling regarding my recent move to Singapore, ie Adam's Adventures 2.0!

I want to start with something for my parents - they want to know what my apartment in Singapore is like: Here are a few pictures of the inside....but the main feature to note is the resort style swimming pool...it is easily the best pool I've ever seen, resort or not.

Hiroshima Part #1

2010-08-29T06:12:00.000-07:00

I am continuing today with my retro diary of an April trip to Japan. The final stop on my three tiered jaunt through the land of the rising sun found me in Hiroshima. I doubt few adult people in the world can hear the name of this beautiful and charming Japanese city and not immediately think of August 6, 1945. Its a day when Hiroshima, chosen only because of cloud cover over another Japanese city, became the epicenter, literally and figuratively, of the world's glimpse at the incredible destructive power of the atom. It stands today, rebuilt, as a testament to the resiliency, fortitude and positive attitude of the Japanese people. While strolling through the tree lined streets of Hiroshima on a pleasant, sunny spring day, I was hard pressed to find residue of the the city's tragic past in the faces of the smiling Japanese people I passed, many of them offering a smile and a "Konichiwa". As an American, I expected to be treated much differently by the Hiroshima citizens, or at least the guilt I felt gnawing at my stomach, against common sense, portended a much harsher treatment. Instead, I was awed by the ability of the Japanese to forgive, and stunned with how they view the dropping of the bomb. After talking to several Hiroshima tour guides, it seems that they accept what happened as a consequence of their actions in the war, and deem it an acceptable price to pay for taking part in World War II. They harbor no ill will towards America, and in fact, have turned the greatest simultaneous mass human killing in history into a world wide cry for peace. When visiting the Peace Museum, one can't help but wonder if the entire world had the optimistic outlook and forgiving hearts of these Japanese people if war would be a thing of the past.
As I mentioned earlier, Hiroshima has been rebuilt, and appearances lead me to believe its a thriving, mid sized Japanese city, much like a Columbus, Ohio or Richmond, Virginia. There is, however, one stark reminder of this city's dalliance with the atomic devil. Its called the A-Bomb Dome, and its one of the largest structures in the city, hard to miss, but its size isn't what gripped me as I stared upwards at the twisted mass of metal near the top of the dome. Largely left untouched since that fateful day over 65 years ago, its a monument to the city, those killed by the bomb, and those that survive today. It is located only a few thousand meters from where the bomb exploded, and was one of the few buildings in the entire city left standing after the explosion. The Japanese originally wanted to tear it down, but as they came to terms with the disaster, they came to embrace this building, and its sobering glimpse at a horrific moment in history.

Elvis

2010-08-09T07:27:00.000-07:00

Asia, and Japan in particular, is a strange place for Westerners. Asians have been exposed to Western culture and have inculcated Westernity(is that a word?) into their own cultures, but never in a predictable or rational way. Exhibit A of this strange mixture was the group of dancing Elvis's that I had a chance to see when I was in Tokyo. Wandering through a large park on a Sunday afternoon, I heard English music coming from one of the entrances to the park. As I got closer, I could tell that it was American 50's music, and even closer inspection showed a group of people dancing. Oh, but these were not just ordinary Japanese people dancing...no, this was a group of men, all dressed in black, with the pompadour hairdos and dance moves to boot. Apparently, they were having a "dance off" with another group of Elvis impersonators. I found that this goes on every Sunday, and has become something of a tourist attraction in this part of Tokyo. They were serious too...one man had his hand in a cast but was still jumping around and doing impressive dance moves, with little regard to the injured hand. Impressive....or something. I just wonder what these guys do during the week? Are these Japanese businessmen? Do they tell their families about this "hobby"? Do they dress this like this all the time? Do they impersonate other singers? Meatloaf? Elton John? Prince? Lady Gaga?

Cherry Blossoms

2010-08-08T15:59:00.000-07:00

This will be the first of several retro blog entries pertaining to my trip to Japan in April. My trip was planned to coincide with the famous blossoming of the cherry trees that takes place yearly during the first week of April. The window to view these blossoms is very small, as the small pink flowers are at peak intensity for about a week, before falling off the tree. The Japanese treat this time of year as a celebration, gathering under the cherry trees with coolers full of Sake and sushi and enjoying the gorgeous views. It was almost sensory overload, as standing in the middle of a path lined with cherry trees on both sides, all one could see was a sea of pinkish flowers. The smell was also sublime, as the the vast number of blossoms inbues the air with a sweet and fresh fragance that takes over Tokyo.

The Fortune Cookie

2010-08-06T06:21:00.000-07:00

I recently ordered Chinese food from an Asian restaurant down the street from my condo. This was to be my first taste of Chinese food since leaving China. I made sure to order two dishes that I ate all the time in China - egg fried rice and beef lo mein. After anxiously tearing open the containers and digging my fork(no chopsticks....I was too hungry) into the food, the first tastes revealed a lot. Not good:( I definitely enjoyed the Chinese version of each of these dishes much more than the American counterparts. I was dismayed at the thought that American Chinese food was ruined for me, that I would never again be able to enjoy the culinary treats offered at PF Chang's or some small dive Chinese restaurant. So the next night, I ordered from a different place, just to see if it was indeed American Chinese food itself, or perhaps(hopefully) just a bad restaurant. The second time around it was much better. I slept much easier that night knowing that two years in China hadn't irrevocably altered my Chinese taste buds. It also led to an interesting discovery. Fortune cookies aren't eaten in China, as most of you know, but its only at American Chinese places that they are given away. Notice where this fortune cookie is made...ironic, don't you think?

Perspective

2010-07-21T07:14:00.000-07:00

This is the artwork that hangs on the wall directly outside my bedroom in Chicago. Its the first thing I see in the morning when I wake up, and its the last thing I glance at before going to bed. What is it? Its a reminder, a series of echoes from those who came before me, those who inspired me and created in me a sense of duty and work ethic. It suggests to me how fortunate I am to be doing a job I love, a job that is safe, not physically demanding and fulfilling. I am a teacher....my father and grandfather were both coal miners.

The helmet belonged to my grandfather, a man who endured the rigors of a West Virginia coal mine for over 35 years. One of my lasting memories of Grandpap Held was his incessant coughing, a souvenir of this life spent underground, breathing in coaldust. The lunchpail top is my father's. My father also worked in and at the coal mines for over 30 years. My father's job was shift work, which meant for the better part of my life, he changed his sleep schedule every week. Dayshift meant he worked from 8 to 5, afternoon shift from 3 to 12 and midnight shift from midnight to 9 am. I don't know how he did that for so long, but that's why he's my hero. And now, when I wake up to go to work, no matter how tired or grouchy or lazy I might feel, I can look at that wall and be reminded how lucky I am to work in the teaching profession. Thanks Dad, thanks Grandpa, I only I hope I can live up to your examples that hang proudly next to my bedroom, and that resonate loudly in my heart.

Only in America #35

2010-07-19T06:52:00.000-07:00

The Snuggie. Just the saying the name is enough to elicit giggles. Only in America could someone become a millionaire by throwing sleeves on a blanket, creating ridiculous commercials and selling something that has become more punchline than product. Then there is this item I saw while strolling the aisles of my local grocery store:

Is there really a huge market for this product? First of all, if its cold enough to wear a Snuggie, why would you be at the beach? And if you did want to wear your Snuggie to the beach, how is this one any different than the original one? I know, I know...I am just angry because I didn't think of it first...but come on...

Then there was this in a Starbucks restroom...

English is Hard

2010-07-08T14:13:00.000-07:00

If you read my last entry I hope you were as disappointed as I was in all the misspellings on my speeding ticket. Its kind of scary when you think about how important details are in maintaining, say, the safety of a bridge or flying a plane...lets just hope the person responsible for editing the speeding tickets is not the same person building our bridges or flying our planes.

In the hopes of helping myself deal with this, I looked through a list that my English teacher colleague gave me in China. It puts into perspective how perplexing our language truly is...and it helps clarify how difficult learning English as a second language must be.

You think English easy??

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.

2) The farm was used to produce produce.

3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.

4) We must Polish the Polish furniture.

5) He could lead if would get the lead out.

6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.

8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

10) I did not object to the object.

11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.

13) They were to close to the door to close it.

14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.

15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.

17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.

18) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.

19) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

20) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant, nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple.

English muffins weren't invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural booth, beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices?

Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rids of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

The Speeding Ticket

2010-07-03T17:09:00.000-07:00

After spending the last two years in China, I was shocked(in more ways than one) upon my return to Chicago. I embarked on my return trip to Chicago, from Pittsburgh and with my mom, with a carload of my stuff and an overnight driving assignment. Motoring across half the eastern seaboard in the darkness of night, we arrived in the Chicago city limits around 8 am. Mentally exhausted, yet physically wide awake thanks to the 5 hour energy shot I drank, we hit Lake Shore Drive with about 15 minutes of driving left before we would arrive at my condo and some much needed rest. A trip as seamless as this one couldn't possibly finish problem free, could it? I had my answer as I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the flashing lights of a Chicago police car. After pulling over and answering the obligatory questions, I was quickly and summarily handed a speeding ticket for going 60 in a 45. Upset, since it was my first time driving in Chicago in over 6 years, I headed home in a disappointed state.

Once I got home, however, andhad a chance toexamine the ticket, my anger quickly turned into bemusement, and a slight bit of shame. Check out the pictures of the speeding ticket and see what you notice(particularly the green part). I found three spelling errors on this state produced piece of paper. Having just left China, where English errors were common, but accepted, since, well, the people writing it are Chinese and English isn't their first language, I was appalled. I will still pay the ticket, but how embarrassing that a piece of paper issued by one of the largest and richest states in the US can have so many mistakes. By the way...can you find the three typos? Put them in the comments.....

Fundraisers

2010-06-30T12:50:00.000-07:00

First of all, to those of you that don't know me that well, or my background, I grew up in a very small, rural area of western Pennsylvania. Greene County is one the poorest areas in the country, but that's only measuring wealth in terms of dollars. We are rich when it comes to a lot of things: trees, blue skies, clean air, cows, open land, game hunters, coal miners, tobacco chewers, trucks, dirty boots, etc. Its a bucolic place, and one that is definitely worth a visit to see in all its natural splendor.

Growing up in such a "country" place, I never realized the uniqueness of some of our traditions. Take for example a typical fundraiser in Greene County. When I played high school football(again, the benefit of such a small area...a guy like me can be a decent football player!) we had a fundraiser for the team. It was called Cow Chip Bingo. Now, for my city dwelling friends or those uninitiated in rural American lexicon, a cow chip is not something you would want to eat. Its not like a potato chip, its an organic object, produced only by cows. We also produce chips, but ours get flushed....I hope you get the picture.

Anyways, for CCB, the football field would get partitioned off into 1000 small squares, each clearly marked with a white powder, so the crowd that would come to watch could sit in the stands and clearly see the football field, which, with the squares, resembled a giant Bingo card or maybe a giant green piece of graphing paper. People lined up at the field and bought tickets representing different squares for $10 a pop, and they would amble up into the stands to find a vantage point for the show that was about to begin.

The show consisted of Farmer ___________(insert name here - Brown is probably most appropriate considering the purpose of his cow) bringing his cow to the center of the field, people cheering, a countdown...5...4...3...2...1....and then people intently watching a cow chew its cud, waiting for the action at the other end of the beast. Two of the three years I attended we had a cow that apparently relished the spotlight, as it took him/her at least 30 minutes to drop the coveted chip on the field. (The other year, the cow was released, and within 30 seconds he was finished...much to the delight of the crowd, as the temperature was well into the 90's). Once the chip was dropped, they would bring out judges(I'm not kidding...) to make sure the chip landed completely in one square (one year there was controversy because the chip landed on the line, but the judges quickly determined that most of the chip landed to the right of the line.)

The square's number was announced, and the person who had purchased that ticket took home 50% of the gate, the other 50% went to the football team. Believe it or not, this fundraiser was a huge success.

Now, I write this as background for what took place this past weekend. There is a young man in our county, a police officer with two young children, who recently found a large tumor growing on the back of his brain. Doctors in the US have little hope, but there is a promising experimental procedure that could be done in China that could remove the tumor and save his life. The only problem is the expenses are exorbitant. The flights to and from China, the surgery itself, the lost pay from his job, etc. His insurance won't cover it, and his family doesn't have that kind of money. That's where the people of my county, the proud, hard-working, caring and compassionate people that I am fortunate to call my neighbors, friends and mentors came in. They organized the newest kind of fundraiser - a motorcycle ride, which ask for a minimum donation of $20 to participate, although most people donated much more, and then proceeds to wind a route through picturesque Greene County. A lot of the men(and women) in my county own a bike, so it shouldn't have surprised me that this bike ride/fundraiser was a huge success. Apparently over $50000 was raised, and it looks like this young man and his young family might have a chance at the impossible. Being away for two years, I started to forget what it was I missed most about America, and Americans. This event reminded me...once again.

Here's the clip of some of the bikes...unofficial count has anywhere between 400 and 500 motorcycles participating. I am standing in front of my high school taking this video, and coincidentally my parents zoom by on their motorcycle early in the clip...you'll hear my "Hey!!!!!" Enjoy....and please, if you feel moved to donate to this cause, write in my comments, and I will pass along the pertinent information.

Chinglish #8

2010-06-29T08:33:00.000-07:00

A sign from inside a friend's apartment building's elevator in Shanghai. Enjoy!

The Green Hat

2010-06-28T13:31:00.000-07:00

It all began innocuously enough. As I left my apartment to go to school on St. Patrick's Day this year, I suddenly remembered a green hat I owned that would top off my all green outfit. I passed the closet that contained the hat, quickly reached in, grabbed it and threw it on top of my head with little thought. Little did I know that the green hat was about to teach me a lot about Chinese culture.

As the school day went on, I noticed that the Chinese staff at my school were constantly staring at me, smiling, and then going back to work. I was self conscious, and did all the appropriate checks (zipper check, booger check, etc.) but they all came up empty. I then just figured it must be my all green outfit...they weren't used to seeing me dressed so...strangely. Finally, however, the mystery was solved. During the last section of the day, when I had a planning period, one of the Chinese staff, the one I affectionately referred to as my "Chinese Mom", came running into my classroom. She was very concerned:

China Mom: "Adam, you can't wear that hat!"

Me: "Its OK...its a holiday in America, everyone wears green."

China Mom: "Take the hat off!" (She is visibly upset...she reaches for the hat, I pull back.)

Me: "I like the hat. What's wrong with it?"

China Mom: "Everyone(Chinese Staff) is laughing at you. Its bad to wear it."

Me: "Why?"

China Mom: "Who gave it to you?"

Me: "My girlfriend bought it for me."

China Mom: (A look of abject horror on her face) "That's really bad." "Your girlfriend...she is cheating on you."

Me: "What!!??" (Now the look of abject horror had exchanged faces)

China Mom: "Only a fool wears a green hat in China. Take it off!" (That was true...I had never seen a green hat before in China...but when do you ever see them really?)

Me: "I don't understand..." as I removed the hat.

China Mom: "Ancient Chinese custom - if a man wears a green hat his girlfriend gave him, it means she is cheating on him and doesn't love him. A Chinese man will never wear a green hat - it is the most embarrassing thing a man can do."

So there you go. Two worlds collide, cultures clash, with a green hat in the middle. I did some research, and only one type of man will ever wear a green hat in China.

A pimp.

Oops...

The Controversial Green Hat - Halloween 2010

The Cutest Kids in the World....

2010-06-22T16:28:00.001-07:00

...are from Korea.

I feel qualified to say this because I have seen kids from all over the world for the past 33 years, and it wasn't until a visit to Seoul this year that I felt certain that I had found the cutest kids.

Why? Two reasons:

1) I saw this particular group of children at a Korean amusement park in February, so they were all super, little kid excited, but they were hampered by 8 layers of clothing. Its was funny and cute to see these opposing forces (excitement vs. clothing) face off.

2) They bow like nobodies business. Korean culture requires a bow with a hello, yet these little kids were about 4 or 5 years old, so they were just learning the bow, and their bowing skills were all over the board. Watch the end of the video, one little kid holds his bow for well over 8 seconds. He has some work to do....

Only in America #34

2010-06-22T08:04:00.000-07:00

I was wandering around Wal-Mart today...amazed by the sheer quantity and choice offered by each aisle, stunned by how different this American retail world compare to the simple stores I was shopping at for the past two years in China. Not only were there so many more choices, but I knew exactly what each item was for. I remember buying oil my first week in China, cooking with it and immediately after taking the first bite of chicken, having my entire mouth go numb. I freaked out, threw the oil away and stopped cooking for a while. It wasn't until I talked to my Chinese teacher and told her the story that she started laughing. Apparently in China they sell this cooking oil made from a plant that numbs the mouth...its very popular...yet I had no way of knowing what the product was because I couldn't and can't read Chinese.

So today, in Wal-Mart, I am enjoying my literacy, walking in a wide eyed daze around the aisles when all of a sudden I come across a product that literally made me stop, stare and do a half-laugh, half-choke sound.

Zoom View

GE Wireless Decoy Security Camera

Model # 45238 Internet # 202040380

$19.77/EA-EachShips FREE with $249.00 Order

The best part about this product isn't that it doesn't work..but that they market the fact that it doesn't work! The box said something like, "Don't bother with expensive and time consuming security devices, use our decoy camera and rest assured your house is safe." What? What if the crooks are shopping at Wal-Mart...aren't they going to recognize this product? Maybe they carry one around with them, and when they get to a house with a security camera, hold it up and compare. "Alright, this one is fake. Let's clean out the house...."

Safety Scmafety

2010-06-21T04:14:00.000-07:00

Growing up in the US, I have grown accustomed to the litigious nature of our culture. I mean turn on the TV and look at how many times lawyers and judges are prominently displayed as the main part of the plot. In fact, we have shows that are just about judges! Judge Judy, Judge Mathis and Judge Joe Brown take over the TV airwaves from 3 to 5 pm EST. My dad's favorite show is Law and Order, and my mom liked a show called Judging Amy, about a woman who works as a judge. Its because of this cultural indoctrination that living in China really opened my eyes to how "safe" and "lawsuit" proof many enterprises in the US operate.

For example, construction sites in the US are heavily guarded, almost like an Army base or the secret formula to Coke, with signage everywhere guiding the wayward pedestrian towards the safest, re: least likely to get injured or maimed and sue the sh** out of our company, path. If they left construction sites unprotected, would people really be dumb enough to wander right.....I stopped myself in mid sentence because I know the answer....of course they would. Heck, if I saw a giant crane in a mud crater lifting blocks I would want to take a closer look.

Juxtapose this with China. Either they trust their people more in China (doubtful, since they don't even let people in China change their Facebook status lest a revolution ensues...) or they just don't care (ie. go ahead and try and sue the Chinese government, good luck, we will decide how much you get, not some overpriced lawyer with a yacht to pay for...)

With that being the case, I shouldn't have been surprised by my close encounters with construction sites in China....check it out...

What's in a name

2010-06-18T09:12:00.000-07:00

OK -

First of all, I am going to be retroactively updating my blog over the next several months. I've got a lot of interesting stories and pictures to post, but because of the great firewall of China, it was very difficult for me to get stuff on here during the year. This means I have had some time to think about the stories I can write about and to come up with funnier versions which skirt reality while maintaining the essence of the experience. The updates should be frequent, so to my loyal followers(Mom), check back every couple days and the stories should begin trickling in.

I am going to start with an easy one...don't want to strain my cerebellum on the first day back to blogging.

Names are very important. For example, my aunt is babysitting a child right now named, and I kid you not, Angus Doodle. Angus Doodle.....the poor child is five, and has no idea what his future holds, but I can pretty much predict with a name like Angus Doodle his future isn't very bright. American parents with the last name of Doodle probably should be even more careful than most parents when choosing baby names. Did the mother decide the name while the epidural was still in effect? Did they sound that name out a few times?

That brings me to the point of this post. While in Korea, I ran across two different coffee shops that were only a few streets apart, both with names that might not resonate with the Korea population, but if owners in the US gave the same names, they would be guilty of gross negligence. Check it out....

Konglish

2010-03-28T00:35:00.000-07:00

Spending the past two years in China, I have become a little desensitized to the mangling of the English language, otherwise known as Chinglish. I have posted some pictures in earlier blogs showing some of the prime examples of this entertaining phenomenon. After visiting Korea, Karen and I were disappointed by the lack of what would be considered Konglish, or the Korea version of Chinglish. The Koreans, apparently, have a much better grasp of the English language than the Chinese. With one exception, that being this tour bus we passed while in Seoul.

Run...DMZ!

2010-03-12T23:39:00.000-08:00

Recently I visited what has to be one of the strangest places in the world. North of Seoul, by about 55 km, is something called the Demilitarized Zone(DMZ). It is essentially the line of demarkation between South Korea and North Korea. Established in 1953, its basically the location of the world's greatest staring contest. Tension runs high in this thin strip of land that runs east to west in a jagged line across Korea. The town that we visited is the only place tourist are allowed to visit along the entire DMZ. Entering from the South Korean side, one must first endure a briefing given by fully armed US soldiers who show a powerpoint and make you sign a paper basically saying that if a North Korean soldier decides to shoot and it kills you, its not the US governments fault. The US maintains a small military presence near the DMZ to aid South Korean in case of an attempted invasion. North Korea has tried to invade into South Korea in the past, but not in a convential way. The South Koreans have discovered over 4 tunnels that North Korea built in an attempt to invade. One tunnel came within a few kilometers of Seoul. When discovered, the North Koreans told South Korea they were coal mines, and even went through the trouble of smearing coal dust on the walls to keep up appearances. As a tourist, you are allowed to enter blue buildings that stand on the border of North and South...and can walk to one side of the building, where you will be standing in North Korea.

North Korea is across the road...yikes!

Sox and Cubs in Korea

2010-02-20T02:50:00.001-08:00

Seoul has a very Western feel to it...a vibe unique to the city and unlike any I had felt before in Asia. One of the reasons Seoul felt so familiar was the Korean's love of baseball...and the large number of baseball hats that were worn in the city. It never dawned on me during my time in China, but the Chinese do not wear baseball hats. Its rare to see a baseball hat in Shanghai. In fact, the Chinese hardly wear anything on their heads. Quite the opposite in Seoul. Everywhere we went were baseball hats representing teams from across the baseball universe. By far the two most popular hats were Yankees and White Sox. Since I am a Sox fan, I wanted to document the incredible number of Sox hats being worn in Seoul....

Trying to be fair and objective, I searched in vain the entire week I was in Seoul for a person wearing a Cubs hat. I thought my search was going to be fruitless, but on the last day I stumbled across a student at Seoul National University wearing a Cubs hat...

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. I mean after all, the Sox own the South Side. Whether its the South Side of Chicago or South Korea, the Sox are IT! Since the Cubs are big in the North Side of Chicago...and considering the scarcity of Cubs hats in South Korea, one could surmise that the Cubs must be HUGE in North Korea. Could the C on a Cubs hat stand for something more substantial, more nefarious than a furry little bear? Could it stand for Communism? Hmmmm....

Spam A Lot?

2010-02-20T02:39:00.000-08:00

Karen and I just finished a 7 day trip to Seoul, South Korea. The next few blogs will be about some of the things we saw, heard, tasted and otherwise experienced while staying in quite possibly the coolest Asian city we have visited.

On the second day in Seoul, while on the subway(which had heated seats...get with it Chicago!), we saw a well dressed woman carrying a large bag filled with several cans of Spam. It was strange, for sure, and confusing, but we watched her exit the subway with her cans of pressed meat and thought nothing more of it. It wasn't until a few days later when we came across a few Westerners that we found out the truth about Koreans and their Spam. Its actually considered a very classy gift in the Korean culture to give someone Spam. Since meat is so expensive in Korea, Spam is seen as a luxury item. When one Korean gives another Spam, its not the punchline to some joke, but rather a show of respect and a thoughtful gesture. Think about that the next time you walk past Spam in the grocery store....

Christmas in February

2010-02-07T03:22:00.000-08:00

Its a little late...but here is an interesting video from Christmas night in Harbin, China.

Hot Pot

2010-02-07T02:45:00.000-08:00

Hot pot is a Chinese style of cuisine that in theory, should be simple and fun, as it allows the eater a chance to interact with and literally cook their own food, right on the table top. In practice, as Karen and I both found out the hard way, you are really just trying (a) not to set the restaurant on fire (b) contract some rare type of food poisoning from severely undercooked meat (c) burning any of a multitude of appendanges that come into play trying to control the food with the eternally frustrating chopsticks (d) all of the above

My first, and its safe to say last, time in a hot pot restaurant was over Christmas break. Karen and I were in Harbin, and we both passed a local hotpot place that was teeming with locals and decided to stop in. The traditional Chinese hot pot meal is centered around the two hot plates that they set on center of your table. Into that bowl goes water and some spice, with the bowl divided into two sections, one spicy and one cool. They turn the hot plate on and within minutes a nice geyser of steam is rising from the center of your table and you know its time to add the food. They then bring out raw meat and vegatables, and you add them to the boiling water and after waiting a few minutes you pull the meat and vegetables out of the boiling water and after letting them cool (I learned after the first bite...this is an important step!) its bon appetit. There was one small problem. We didn't really know what any of the stuff was that we were supposed to add to the hotpot, and we didn't know how long to cook it. The wait staff was extremely busy, so our waiter tried to help us but could only give us tips, he had other tables to wait on. Luckily for us, sitting directly behind us was a family of five, including the grandmother, and a voiciferous litter 5 year old girl that was more than willing to come over to our table and show us how to cook and eat the food. I can only imagine what she must have thought - two grown adults struggling to master the simplicities of what for her is a simple Sunday meal. She was extremely helpful, so much so that we called her, much to her delight, xiao laoshi(little teacher). All in all it was an enlightening experience, but after leaving the hot pot place Karen and I immediately went to the only restaurant in the city that served Western food - McDonald's.

Country Roads in China

2010-01-22T19:50:00.000-08:00

Let me set the scene for the fascinating collision of two worlds. Last night, Karen and I met up with some friends at a small bar in Shanghai where they have a live band that plays American music. We had been there a few times before and were friends with the lead singer, an interior decorator/entertainer who has the most interesting assortment of English vocabulary words. Last night, for example, he asked us about Montague, the French politician who advocated for three branches of government and the separation of power in the highest offices. I honestly didn't remember who Montague was when he asked me, but Karen remembered, and we were able to "save face". Interesting conversation...

Later in the night, as we were preparing to leave, I heard the first few chords of a song that strikes very near and dear to my heart. My home, my family, my song....7000 miles away it still evokes the same feelings. We are coming home soon guys....

Harbin's Ice City

2009-12-25T19:06:00.001-08:00

Karen and I decided to spend the past few days(including Christmas Day!) in the winter wonderland known as Harbin, China. Harbin is located next to next to Siberia in the extreme northeastern part of China. Its famous in China as being home to an ice city. Since the temperatures in Harbin average 3-4 F during the winter months, ice sculptors from all over the world have made Harbin one of the few places in the world where their art form is viable for long stretches of time. Starting in December, the ice city opens up in the outskirts of Harbin. Building replicas of famous Chinese landmarks, such as the Great Wall, the ice city is beautifully and spectacularly lit by LED's placed inside the ice blocks that create the structures. Walking around the ice city is a surreal experience...truly breathtaking.

Beijing

2009-12-25T16:53:00.000-08:00

Winter break started on December 18th and Karen and I decided to head north to the Chinese capital of Beijing. I had been to Beijing before, but this would be Karen 1st time. While in Beijing, we planned on heading to the Great Wall of China, as well to the Forbidden City. Along the way we were open to new adventures, such as eating the Chinese speciality Peking duck, or walking down the food streets along the famous Wangfujing Street, where anything and everything under the sun is available to eat.

Chinese baby with oversized jacket!

Eating Scorpion on Wangfujing Street!

The Grocery Store

2009-12-16T04:11:00.000-08:00

This entry is pretty self explanatory...except for the pajamas...I still don't get it...

The Commute

2009-12-13T05:44:00.000-08:00

This blog entry proves once and for all that I will go to great lengths to provide you with the most compelling and interesting content from my life in China. Enjoy!

(I had to split it up because it was such a large file...)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

The Post Office

2009-12-11T15:31:00.000-08:00

This past week I had to go to the post office in my neighborhood to send a package home. I have been to the post office quite a few times since I've been in China, but decided to document this visit. The package I was sending was actually for one of my colleagues who can't speak Chinese, and who hadn't been to the post office before. She was sending scarves and some food back home. Its interesting, and you can see from the video, everything was OK to send home except this small package of shrunk wrapped chicken feet(a Chinese specialty...). They removed the chicken feet and allowed me to send other food items, such as a chocolate bar. Its also interesting to watch the Chinese write...you can see a man putting an address on a box, and I marvel at how quickly they move through the strokes of their written language. I still can't read or write Chinese, and with over 10000 separate characters(kind of like our letters)I don't know how anyone ever does. It has been shown that it takes Chinese schoolchildren almost an extra year to two years to reach the same level of written fluency as western culture...and this is mainly attributable to the difficulty of the written language.

Huangshan

2009-12-08T04:37:00.000-08:00

Huangshan, or Yellow Mountain, is one of the most photographed places in the world. When you think of a classic China shot, with a mysterious mist of fog rising up the sides of a mountain, you are thinking of Huangshan. Karen and I had a chance to visit this iconic tourist site, and we were welcomed with almost picture perfect weather. We arrived Friday night, and stayed in a hostel at the base of the mountain. Our room had a small heater, but it wasn't nearly enough, as Karen and I shivered our way through the night, as winter had descended on this part of south central China, and flaunted its power during the weekend by keeping the temperatures in the 20's. On Saturday morning, we arose around 7 am, and walked around the streets of Huangshan(also the name of the town at the base of the mountain.) Once we found a place that sold our Chinese favorite, a breakfast "burrito" that the locals all love, we headed to the base of the mountain. We were spending the night in a hotel at the top of the mountain, and they were doing renovations to the hotel. The only way to get stuff from the bottom of the mountain to the top is to carry it. Who gets that job? Chinese migrant workers...earning less than 2000 US dollars a year, they start their day at 6 am and carry something up the mountain, which entails a strenuous 3 hour hike up the side of the mountain. They then carry something back down to the bottom of the mountain, get to eat lunch, and begin the same process again. Twice a day. 6 days a week. We can't really complain, can we?
Karen and I also got to see the most famous sunrise in China, coming over the peak of Huangshan, early on Sunday morning. We were surrounded by hundreds of Chinese tourist, who had come to Huangshan to see the same things we have, and I am sure, with the same sense of awe.

Date Night

2009-11-28T16:52:00.000-08:00

Last night, Karen and I had what seemed like a real, bonafide American style date. We love going to the movies, but living in the countryside of China, getting to a movie theater has been hard. Recently, however, a giant shopping complex opened up within five minutes of where we live, and with it, a brand new sparkling movie theater. Karen and I have been wanting to go for the past month, but it was only this week that they started showing movies in English. Our English choices for movie night were 2012 or Twilight. Since Karen loved the book, we decided that we would see Twilight, and I would earn some major boyfriend points to be cashed in at some later date. It was interesting, the ticket said had the time of 7:05, and we wondered if they would show any previews of coming attractions: they showed one, a Chinese movie, and at 7:05 on the dot, our movie started.
We had a great time, it was nice to see a movie in a theater in English, I had only seen one movie in the last two years, and in addition, for the equivalent of 10 US dollars, we got to sit in the VIP section, replete with reclining chairs and ample leg room. Not a bad way to spend a night...even if we were among vampires!

After work....

2009-11-18T14:27:00.000-08:00

A Minute out my Bedroom Window

2009-11-06T15:52:00.000-08:00

This video is exactly that...from 7:50 am to 7:51 am on Saturday, November 7th, this was a glimpse of life in my part of Shanghai.

A walk through the park....

2009-11-04T14:54:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, Karen and I took a walk through one of the largest public parks in Shanghai. We came across two very interesting parts of the park...one is called "Marriage Corner"(at least that's what I call it) and the other is English Corner.

The Fabric Market

2009-10-24T05:10:00.000-07:00

Chinese "Traffic" Jam

2009-10-23T15:08:00.000-07:00

I bought an electric scooter a few months ago for my commute to work. I never could have guessed how much I've fallen in love with riding it. Its top speed is about 35 mph, which is enough to feel the wind in my hair, but the thing about it is that its opened up the part of Shanghai where I live to exploration. I feel like the Chris Colombus of electric scooters as I zoom down the main road in front of my house, with factories and high rises everywhere, and after a few turns here and there, finding myself standing on a small path in the middle of rice fields, as farmers expertly and urgently tend to the rice.
My commute is more fun as well as I now look forward to scooting to work. My school is about a 40 minute walk from my house, now with my scooter its a five minute ride. I take a shortcut to work everyday, I discovered an alley that takes me past a small creek and through a traditional Chinese town. Its very relaxing...and usually easy to nagivigate, except for one day last week, when a car tried to drive down the path meant for scooters and pedestrians. This happens often, as Chinese don't think anything of driving on a bike path, if it cuts a few minutes off their drive. Check out what happened to this unfortunate driver....

Hong Kong

2009-10-17T16:28:00.000-07:00

I just recently got back from a trip to Hong Kong with my girlfriend Karen. I really had no expectations of Hong Kong, I didn't know much about it before the trip other than it was more Westernized than mainland China. We spent a week there, and now I can say with confidence that it is my favorite Asian city. Built on several small islands that are in a river delta in southern China, it reminded both Karen and me of San Fransisco. Where China's mainland is flat, Hong Kong is extremely hilly. The most famous island is called Hong Kong island, and it is considered Asia's Manhattan. Tall buildings everywhere, people in suits walking on the sidewalks, it has an air of importance, as well as an elegant, if not manufactured, beauty. The other major island is called Kowloon. This is where Karen and I stayed. If Hong Kong island is the stately beauty queen, with her hair done perfectly and whose every photograph is magazine quality, then Kowloon is the loud, brash, funny girl who grows on you after spending a few days alone. Kowloon is a more authentically Asian section of Hong Kong. We stayed along Nathan Road, which happens to be the shopping metropolis of Hong Kong, similar to the Magnificent Mile in Chicago. The western flavor of Hong Kong is readily apparent on Nathan Road, we were within walking distance of both an Outback Steakhouse and a TGIFridays, as well as a movie theater. (We saw a movie called District Nine - our most western date since we've been in Asia.) Up further along Nathan Road, Kowloon changes - the clean buildings begin to grow older and dirtier, and the sidewalks louder. Where before the shops were major brands from the West, now Kowloon becomes truly Asian. A left turn puts you in a goldfish market - where every store sells fish of all kinds. The bird market is this way as well, an entire street filled with the songs of birds, living in cages, waiting to be bought as pets. This is the part of Hong Kong that gives it life, gives it a flavor. While we were in Hong Kong, we also had a chance to go to an amusement park, called Ocean Park. Hong Kong also has a Disneyland, Disney Hong Kong, but strangely, Ocean Park has a better reputation than Disneyland. At Ocean Park, which was fantastic, we had a chance to spend some more time with pandas. The panda we saw was named An An...and as you can see, is as cute as a panda can be. Interestingly though, when we arrived, An An was sleeping. A group of people were gathered around for a few minutes, watching An An sleep, and then suddenly An An started to rise and stretch. People were lost in the cuteness at this point. "Awwww, look how cute!" Little kids were jumping up and clapping, a man kissed his wife, old men, heretofore unable to walk, rose to their feet for the first time in ages, inspired by the cuteness. The cuteness continued as the panda walked up the small hill, next to a tree. Everyone stood transfixed, as the cuteness had become a paralyzing thing, everyone with baited breath waiting to see what the panda does next. As the panda stood next to the tree, a little girl yells out, "Look, mommy, the pandas tail is moving!" The man kissed his wife again, kids clapping, old men banging their canes against the ground...so profound was the cuteness of the panda....and then it happened. The tail lifted, and we all watched in horror as the panda left a trail of "cuteness" along the ground, as bamboo apparently moves through the system very quickly. The little kids, mesmerized by the cuteness just moments before, begin crying, traumatized, and now, probably, in need of years of therapy. The man slaps his wife, the wife in return slaps him back. Old men stop banging their canes, turn and slink out, muttering under their breath. The panda, the cuteness gone, mosies on back to his original spot, lays down and falls back asleep. What was so cute to the crowd was the panda bathroom run, akin to a stumbling, 3 am in the dark out of bed stub your toe trip to the toilet. Not as cute as we thought....

Say what?

2009-09-26T22:46:00.000-07:00

First of all, its nice to be able to finally update my blog from China. My blog has been blocked for the last five months, but yesterday I was able to purchase a computer program that allows me to check out webpages such as Facebook and Youtube, which the Chinese government is currently blocking. But they can't block me anymore!!

Near my house in Shanghai a new restaurant is going up. Based on the name, I am not sure what to expect...

Fudge and Salami

2009-09-05T18:42:00.000-07:00

The line for the plane to China stretches like the famous Great Wall in the country we are about to make our home in for the next year. People stand in line at the airport check in line, staring blankly into space, a yawn here, a scratch there. As we made our way towards the baggage check we passed the same people four different times – the little girl with pigtails and toothy grin, the young couple that couldn’t keep their hands off each other, a young Frenchman with a surfboard neatly bagged up, heading to Hawaii for a surf competition. Each of these lives intersected with ours, for a brief moment in time, before diverging once more bound to follow the path each of our lives take us on. Why is this line so long, and so slow I wondered? Finally, we made it to the front, and were going to hand our bag to the United representative who needed another cup of coffee this particular morning as his lethargic greeting “Hi, thank you for flying United” left quite a lot to be desired. Karen and I had a total of seven bags, we were planning on checking five of them, and carrying on two. As we placed the first bag upon the scale, the check -in person glanced at the weight reading in bright green letters (59 lbs) and declared that I would need to pay a $200 fee for an overweight bag. He told me that we needed to get that bag under 50 pounds, so the process began.... I opened that bag and out came shoes, books, clothes,etc....all under the impatient eyes of the people in line behind us. Talk about pressure...most of our possessions came out of one bag and into another, as we frantically tried to get every bag under 50 pounds. When we finally transferred everything in a way that seemed to lighten each bag to under the correct weight we held our collective breath as each bag went on the scale...46...48...42....49...39...45 and finally, 48. We just made it, and with our flight leaving in an hour and a half, the rush was on to get through the carry-on check point. As our carry-on bags went through the x-ray machine, I saw the man behind the scan calling over another checker. They were looking anxiously at whatever was on the screen with a look of curiousity tinged with worry. As my bag came through, they threw it to the end of the rollers, and a woman with gloves on came over and told me she was going to open my bag. She asked me if there was anything in the bag that could have set off the alarm, and I racked my brain but couldn't think of anything. As the bag was opened, and the items emptied, it was a strange collection of items. One of Karen's high heels, moved into this bag during the frantic bag switch earlier, came out first. Then assorted items, and finally, a box of fudge. I finally realized that was what set off the detector...fudge. The woman with the gloves took out some sort of wand and waved it around the box, and cautiously opened it. It hadn't dawned on me, but the fudge must look like some sort of explosive under the x-ray. She laughed as she realized what it was, and actually allowed me to keep it, after eating a piece. At the same time this was going on, at the belt next to us, another couple was going through the same process, only to find that a bag of salami was the potential security risk. Fudge and salami...next time you are waiting in a line at the airport, remember fudge and salami.

What's that?

2009-07-13T10:04:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, I had locked myself out of my classroom and needed to get a security guard at my school to open the door. It was early in the morning, and I was still recovering from the evil sound of my alarm clock earlier in the morning. My brain wasn't quite working at its full capability. The security guard arrived with the key a few minutes later and began to say something to me in Chinese. Still in my early morning stupor, I told him I didn't understand. He then began to speak LOUDER. Once that didn't work, he took his left hand out, and began to write Chinese characters with his right hand pointer finger. I still told him I didn't understand. Exasperated, he unlocked my door and walked away.
Two things struck me...first, when I didn't understand what he was saying, he spoke louder. Its funny to me because apparently thats a universal reaction in communication when the other person is having trouble understanding. I'll just say the same thing louder, and then they will get it.
Also, most Western people who learn Chinese learn it orally, and not the written language, as it requires memorizing over 10000 characters and learning how to write them properly. Its a headache most Westerners avoid like the plague. Or bad street meat.
So that fact that the security guard thought I would know the much more difficult written language, even though I clearly didn't know the oral language, struck me as incredibly hopeful and optimistic. I honestly felt bad that I didn't know the written language, as I felt I let him down.

My family...

2009-07-10T10:42:00.000-07:00

This post isn't about China. Its about something much more entertaining...my family. The following is a conversation recently overheard in my family's house. Now, in my mom's defense, my sister is getting married this week, so you could chalk up the following exchange up to pre-wedding stress, but if you are in the know, if you have spent time with me and my family, you would know the truth. The following conversation isn't an anomaly, its par for the course.

Sis: Adam, have you seen my glasses?
Me: Yeah...I thought I saw them in a bowl thing in the bathroom.

Amanda goes to the bathroom. 30 seconds later...

Sis: I don't see them.
Me: Look in anything shaped like a bowl.
Sis: I still don't see them.

I go into the bathroom.

Me: Here - I thought I saw them in this thing(I grab a cup that is sitting on the sink.)
I don't see them. Guess not.
Sis: Thanks a lot!

Sis: Mom - have you seen my glasses?
Mom: No.

Sis spends next 15 minutes frantically running around the house looking for her glasses. What I hear next, while surprising, is again, nothing unusual.

Mom: Did you find them yet?
Sis: No - did you see them anywhere?
Mom: I thought I saw them over there. (Mom points to a table)

Sis looks...

Sis: Those are your glasses!
Mom: No - these are my glasses. (At this point, mom takes a pair of glasses off her head)
Sis: Oh my God Mom! Those are MY glasses. Thanks for bending them like that!
Mom: Are you sure? I think these are mine. Oh wait, mine are over there. (Realizing her glasses were on the table she pointed to just seconds before.)

That's it....that is my family life in a nutshell.

The Most Interesting Day Ever

2009-07-07T16:12:00.000-07:00

I have always been the person that has been able to either a) be personally involved in a predicament that leaves people shaking their heads in disbelief OR b) helping someone else get involved in a similar predicament. As an example of the former, my parents could probably recall a dozen stories from my childhood, such as the time I managed to get a raisin stuck so far into my ear that I had to get a doctor to remove it. (I was 4 - so its understandable - I was probably doing one of my first science experiments.) Or the time in 6th grade when I managed to give myself a concussion by holding my breath in the school bathroom. (Again - maybe an example of scientific curiousity trumping common sense?)

These events have gotten less and less common as I've gotten older and more mature(relatively).

I did, however, manage, through events both in and out of my control, to orchestrate one of the more interesting days in someone else's life. The someone else is someone very special to me, which made the events that unfolded even harder to swallow, although I think we are able to laugh about them now. At least a little bit...right, Karen?

Let me set the scene. My girlfriend and I parted ways(geographically, not romantically) at the beginning of August 2008, with me moving to China and her staying in Chicago. We vowed to stay in touch daily, and thanks to Skype, pretty much met our goal. Karen also planned to come to Shanghai in November to visit, which meant that we had over 100 days between face to face meetings. It was the first time I had tried a long distance relationship, which might have been good for me, because I didn't have much success at short distance relationships. Anyways, when Karen arrived in November, we had to make up for lost time.

Since she had spent three years of her life, albeit as a child, living in Singapore, in my mind I thought she would be able to handle the drastic culture difference China presents to a first time visitor. She arrived at the airport, we had the obligatory long hug/kiss, and we jumped in a taxi back to my place. My house in Shanghai, by Chinese standards, is in the country. This means it is VERY Chinese. No Western amenities to be found, and no other white people to found either. Karen arrived, threw her bags down and after a fifteen minute chat, we decided to go grab some food. I thought it would be a nice surprise to take Karen to the small, local restaurant I had been frequenting to introduce her to the owners, who had become friends of mine, and also to give her a little bit of my neighborhood's Chinese flavor. Since it was a dark, chilly night, we decided to forgo the 5 minute walk and jumped into a tuk-tuk. If you don't know what a tuk tuk is, at least as they are constructed in Shanghai, imagine this: You take a bicycle, and with a few pieces of wire and/or duct tape, attach a small wagon to the back of it. If could also manage to fit a couple of supports in the wagon, you would be able to build a small canopy to protect yourself from the elements. Sit in the wagon, and allow someone to pedal you around wherever you want for a small fee. The tuk tuks in Shanghai are a little more advanced than this, but I cannot vouch for the quality of their construction. There are times where you question whether the next bump you hit will send you off in a different direction than the person riding the bike. The thing is, everyone rides in them, so its easy to convince yourself that they are safe. And they usually are...except for this night. As we rode along a back alley, filled with potholes and pieces of debris, Karen and I were getting a rather bumpy, but normal experience for a tuk tuk ride. As the alley opened up onto the main road which we had to cross to get to the restaurant, our overzealous driver did something dangerous, even by China's nonexistent driving standards, he shot right out in front of oncoming traffic. I had been conditioned to such, umm, unorthodox driving during my 4 months in China, but Karen had no experience to draw upon. She let out a small shriek as he pulled out, apparently oblivious to the oncoming cars in BOTH directions. While this is normal for driving in China, what happened next wasn't. As we were halfway across the road, we heard tires screaming as a car was applying its brakes. Since Karen and I were in the back of the tuk tuk and covered by the canopy, we couldn't see the cars in either direction. It made the experience about ten times scarier - and we then see a car run into the bicycle at the front of the tuk tuk. I had been in China for four months, and ridden in a tuk tuk quite a bit, but I had never seen an accident until now. The car was probably going about 10 miles an hour, fast enough to slam into the driver and knock the bike loose from the tuk tuk. Karen is hyperventilating at this point, and we are now standing in the middle of the road, with our tuk tuk driver on the ground, his bike in shambles next to him, and traffic piling up in either direction. As I look around, and a crowd begins to gather, I realize we have two options. We can stand around and wait for the police, and with stories of foreigners being blamed for accidents and being extorted for money, this didn't seem like a good option. After a quick check to make sure the tuk tuk driver was OK - he was fine, up on his feet and saying loud Chinese words to the driver of the car - we briskly continued across the street, and with a quick left and then a right, had disappeared around the corner and were heading to the restaurant. It took both of us a few minutes to calm down once we reached the restaurant, but after assuring Karen that it was OK to leave the scene, and that accidents like that are exceedingly rare(which I doubted, but felt compelled to say anyways), she seemed to accept it for what it was, a freakish and scary accident, but nothing more. As our dinner progressed, we began to draw a crowd at the restaurant. This, I told Karen, was to be expected. The owners told me that I was the only non-Chnese person to ever eat at their restaurant, and often people would sit at the table next to me and stare or offer me a cigarette while I was eating. I knew then, that a table with two laowai, especially one with striking features like Karen has, with blonde hair and blue eyes, would attract quite a crowd. Truthfully, I enjoy the attention. It gives me a chance to surprise the person when I say something in Chinese, and then I can practice my nascent Chinese skills for a few minutes. Tonight, as the patrons in the restaurant stared at us as we ate, I noticed a man dressed in a uniform approach the table. I quickly realized that he was a police officer, and my heart skipped a beat. As he was approaching, Karen and I shared a quick glance that said it all - "Oh, ****!" We thought the cops had hunted us down, and maybe we would be escorted to the Chinese police station for some "questioning." I thought to myself that this is how international incidents begin. Before any of my fears could be realized, the police officer said something to Karen. I didn't understand most of it, but I knew he said "chopstick" and he was motioning to the waitress to come over to the table. As the waitress approached, I saw that she had a fork in her hand. The cop preceded to take the chopsticks OUT of Karen's hands and gave her a fork. Apparently he was displeased with the way she was using the chopsticks, or maybe he thought that she looked like she couldn't possibly understand how to use such a complicated utensil. Karen protested and said that she was fine and would like to continue using the chopsticks, but the cop stood resolute for a while longer, holding the fork out as if telling Karen that she had no choice but to use it. When he finally left, I smiled at Karen and said, "Welcome to China!"
After dinner we headed to the local grocery store to pick up a few items, and we both talked, naively, of how the night couldn't get anymore interesting. We were wrong.
Upon arriving at the grocery store, Karen noticed a small child riding in a coin operated ride. Chinese babies are impossible to look at just once. They are like the Lay's chips of babies, you can't just look once, because they are so cute! Karen was mesmerized by this Chinese baby in this ride, so we stood and watched for a few seconds. As we were standing there, I noticed a Chinese man and woman quickly approaching us. Before we could say a word, the man had thrust his newborn baby in front of him, offering him to Karen. At first we were both flabbergasted, and then I realized he wanted his baby to have a picture with Karen. Again, her features are very striking, even more so in China, so I imagine the father is thinking, "Its baby's first picture with a white person!" I look at Karen and see this stunned look on her face, as she tentatively holds the baby with a look of shock on her face, and I can barely contain myself, I want to burst out laughing. The father takes a few pictures, tries to position his newborn's fingers into a peace sign, fails at that, snaps a few more pictures, and finally, mercifully from Karen's perspective, takes the baby back into his arms. As the Chinese family walks away, waving at us, total strangers who they chose to hand over their baby, Karen looks at me and asks, "Is this a normal day?" I put my arm around her and with a smile tell her, "No, its usually much worse than this."

Parents are all the same...

2009-06-29T17:16:00.000-07:00

So my Chinese friends, Candance and her boyfriend, Luke, had me over for a a goodbye dinner a few weeks ago. As we ate chicken feet, bamboo shoots and river snail, the conversation turned to wasting food. I related to them that as children, many Americans are told to eat all of their food because, "There are starving children in China who would like to eat that food that you are about to throw away." My friends started to laugh. I asked them what was funny. Luke told me, "In China, most children are told that they have to finish their food because there are starving children in AMERICA that could eat the food." I was dumbfounded by this revelation - but Candance verified that she was also told the same thing by her parents. So I guess this proves one things conclusively - parents in any culture will say whatever it takes to get their kids to clean their plates!

Zhuliugan

2009-06-24T14:44:00.000-07:00

That title of this blog could also be considered a new "magic" word for Western visitors to China. What does it mean? Zhu is the Chinese word for "pig", and liugan means "flu". I was first introduced to this word on the streets of my local community around the beginning of May as an intrepid young man, upon seeing me walking down the sidewalk, came up and asked me "You mei you zhuliugan." This is a Chinese way of asking a question and it literally means "Have not have swine flu" but is the common(and might I say simple) way of asking a question in Chinese. The man wanted to know if I had swine flu. At the time I didn't know what zhuliugan was, so I replied "Meiyou" (meaning I don't have whatever it was) and continued walking. It wasn't until the next day that I found out what zhuliugan meant, and as the week went on I found out how serious the Chinese government is taking the task of preventing its spread. All visitors from America are subject to a health check at the airport and can be quarantined at a local hotel for up to a week if they are suspected of having zhuliugan. This has actually changed my travel plans, as my girlfriend and I are leaving a week earlier to head back to China in case we get quarantined. Yikes!
Zhuliugan has had one positive aspect in my life. As a white guy walking down busy streets in China, it sometimes feels like walking along a boardwalk at a beach, where the workers try to reel you in like a fish. Salesmen and women are constantly approaching you and in broken English asking if you "Want buy watchie?" or "Want massagie?" It can be annoying, and often the hawker will follow you down the street, even if the look on your face makes it clear that you aren't interested in either his product or his company. Well - I finally found an effective way to rid myself quickly of these enthusiastic, but bothersome touts. For the last month, whenever one would approach me, I would cough, rub my stomach as if in pain, and as they begin their pitch I would say, "Wo you zhuliugan." translated as "I have swine flu." I know its not politcally correct, and at times felt guilt for using it, but it really worked. As soon as I said zhuliugan, they would peel off their oncoming path, with a look of discomfort on their face, almost as if repelled by a magnet or invisible force field. I could then continue my walk, without unwanted company, a smile on my face, and the thought "Adam - 1, China - 0"

The Joys of Censorship

2009-06-20T03:35:00.001-07:00

This is my first blog in over a month. Lest you think me a blogospheric slacker, let me tell you it is simply not true. I am a slacker in some areas of my life, but my blogs month long silence was not self imposed, but rather a matter of censorship. Beginning around May 15th, several sites(Twitter, Blogspot, and others) were no longer accessible in China. If you typed in the website, you received the familiar error message "Website cannot be found." The truth is that the Chinese goverenment, on the eve of the 20th anniversary of Tianmen Square(June 4th was the most famous day, the day of the tank, but Tianmen Square and the protests in 1989 actually lasted for 6 weeks starting at the end of April), launched a prempitive strike against any possible organized protest attempts. So....that meant any websites that could be used to organize a large group of people, such as Twitter, were not accessible from China. Even using a proxy, a website that allows you to sneak around such internet blockades, I was unsuccessful in updating my blog. How is it then that I am updating my blog today, you might be asking? Last night I arrived back in America for a few weeks! Home sweet home - it will be a short stay, but my baby sister is getting married, so I will be heading to Pittsburgh for all the festivities surrounding the wedding, before flying back to Shanghai for year number 2.

Lost in Translation

2009-05-13T01:37:00.000-07:00

A few months ago I was dining in a local Chinese restaurant. It was small, hot, crowded, but the food was delicious. As always, I was the center of attention, being a laowai in a local restaurant. When it came time for me to order, I tried to use my usual broken Chinese. I ordered a glass of water and had been craving Shanghai's famous dumplings, known in China as baozi(bowed-za). These are usually filled with vegetables, and can be found on the sides of the street everywhere you go in Shanghai. Also famous in China are meat filled dumplings, known as jiaozi(gee-owed-za). So in my mind, I wanted baozi, but confusing the similar pronunciations between the two types of dumplings, I asked for biaozi(bee-owed-za). The waitress looked surprised at first, and after I repeated it, started blushing and backing away. I asked a third time and she walked away from the table. When she returned, I realized I wasn't getting anywhere, and with the incorrect pronunciation stuck in my head, I decided I would have to do without dumplings tonight, so I moved on to another dish. After leaving the restaurant, I ran through the scenario and couldn't figure out what I had done to embarrass the waitress. Was I staring too much? I had no idea...

The next day, I ran the situation past my Chinese friend. After telling the story, she burst out laughing. "Adam, do you know what you asked for?" "Biaozi is the Chinese word for a female dog, and its used in a derogatory way." It then dawned on me what the waitress thought I was saying! If you are younger than 18, then DO NOT READ THIS NEXT SENTENCE. Biaozi means....I hope you are not reading this, young cousins of mine.....bitch! Did she think I was calling her that name? I hope not..but I wonder now if my food had a "special" ingredient in it...

Baozi Jiaozi Biaozi

Some first impression...

2009-05-07T23:57:00.000-07:00

Koreans, Chinese, Taiwanese....even after spending the past 9 months in Asia, I struggle to pick out any distinguishing physical features that separate the Asian population. They really all look similar to me. While this is a known phenomenon in America, including one of my top 5 "Office" episodes when Michael "marks" his Asian date so he can tell which one she is, I thought after spending 9 months in China my ability to discern individual identities would have improved, but....no.

Well, I got a taste of my own "medicine" last week. Since my school is located out in what the Shanghai call the "countryside", but really more like an industrial zone, "laowai", or white skinned foreigners are few and far between. Last week, during lunch, I decided to wander around the neighborhood near my school in search of a good restaurant. I found a small restaurant tucked away between two larger entities, and I made my way in. It was clear from the stares I received as I walked in that this was not a place that was used to having foreigners. As I sat down and ordered my fried rice I saw what everyone in the restaurant had their attention focused on - the Houston Rockets, and Chinese hero, Yao Ming, were taking on the Huren (or Lakers) in an NBA game. The game was live in China, at 11 am, because of the 12 hour time difference, and was clearly a very big deal. The Chinese are very proud of Yao - and almost everyone I ask lists the Houston Rockets as their favorite NBA team. Anyways - the fried rice was excellent, and I left and finished my day. At 5 pm, after finishing basketball practice, I decided to head back to the restaurant for dinner. The only difference was this time I was wearing basketball shorts and a T-shirt, not the dress shirt and pants I had on before. As I entered the restaurant I saw some of the same faces as before, this was a family run operation and it was clear the husband and wife were in charge. After sitting down, the husband approached me and took my order. It was at this time that I asked him if I was the first "laowai" to ever come to his restaurant. He smiled and shook his head no. He told me that I was the second laowai to eat at his restaurant. When was the first one, I asked. He looked at me and said that earlier today, around lunch, they had their first laowai. He then asked me whether the person at lunch was a friend of mine. I am sure the look on my face was priceless - I responded to the man by telling him that it was me that ate at his restaurant earlier today. He slowly shook his head in disagreement. "No, it wasn't you, it was someone else." he replied. Now I was completely confused. Did another teacher from my school wander over to the restaurant earlier today? I asked the man to describe the person who came into his restaurant today, thinking if it was one of my friends I would recognize the description. He said he had a white dress shirt and black pants. It was the exact same outfit that I had worn earlier in the day! I told the man that I had been wearing that earlier in the day. He leaned in close and took a good look at my face and then exhaled a burst of laughter. "Ah - yes. It was you!" He told me that the fact that I had different clothes on made it hard for him to remember me. He profusely apologized - and ironically asked me to invite my friends next time I came. I couldn't help but smile as I thought to myself, "Would he be able to tell who I was if I brought my friends with me?"

Bicycles

2009-04-15T01:30:00.000-07:00

I don't think I've ever seen as much weird stuff in large quantities being hauled behind a bike as I have in China. Check these out:

What's in a name?

2009-04-08T00:51:00.001-07:00

Its something most of us(really, none of us) have much control over. Yet is one of the most important things we own. Our name. How many us of wish we could have had control over the moment our parents named us. Imagine living life as Warren Peace, or maybe, ala Bart Simpson, Amanda Huginkiss.

The reason this is a relevant topic is because all across China young Chinese people are choosing English names. All across Shanghai I have seen countless names that have made me stop and scratch my head. I have included pictures below. Apparently they have seen a movie or read a book and found a word that they really liked and taken that on as their English name, without a true understanding of what the word means.

Since I ride the bus and subway quite often, speak a little bit of Chinese and am clearly a Westerner, I have been asked to give English names to about ten children that I have met while riding on the transportation. I think I have given most of the girls my sister's name(Amanda) or my Mom's(Cathy) and my father's name(Doug) to several boys. It is a lot of pressure to decide on someone's name! I do feel that this is preparing me for the day when I have to name my own flesh and blood. I just hope I don't succumb to the pressure and name my kid Iwana B.

3...2...1....Eggplant!!

2009-03-10T16:04:00.000-07:00

The Chinese love to take pictures. They especially(almost exclusively) take pictures that include themselves, with the ubiquitous peace sign. As I have seen countless groups of Chinese posing for pictures, I have observed an interesting countdown that the photographer gives. He or she will countdown in Chinese, "San, er, yi...qiezi!" I have asked my Chinese friends about this word, qiezi. Apparently, over the years, the Chinese have seen Westerners take enough pictures, and have heard the familar, "Cheese!" Either they thought the Westerners were saying "qiezi"(Chee-ed-za), which sounds alot like cheese, or they more likely just substituted their own similar sounding word. Either way, Chinese everywhere finish a photographic countdown with a word that means "eggplant." Which is more likely to elicit a smile, a vegetable or a dairy product? The debate rages on...

The Squat

2009-03-10T15:54:00.001-07:00

If Major League Baseball ever has a shortage of catchers, they need to look no further than the country of China. One of the more enduring images in my mind's eye when I picture China, is a group of Chinese men, in a relaxing conversation for them, sitting in a position that my western friends and I call the "Squat." It looks rather easy at first glance. I have tried it countless times, and the muscles in my legs are not pliable enough to allow me into this position. The key is keeping your heels on the ground. And most Chinese men smoke while they are in the squatting position. I have seen few women in the position, apparently squatting is a male dominated "sport" - which also must give points for difficulty, as often the men will sit on a post or a ledge. Try it...and let me know if you can do it!

Korean Academy

2009-03-04T21:28:00.000-08:00

I teach at an international school in Shanghai, and a large percentage of the students are from Asian countries other than China. Of my Asian students, a large number of them are from Korea. I am teaching Algebra II, and it has become clear that there is a divide in my class. The students from Korea regularly score at the top of class with grades in the high range. Below them, the rest of the class. This part of the class consists of students from the US, Canada, Europe and the Scandanavian countries. I've done my best to mitigate this difference, often pairing a Korean student with a non-Korean student. This works to a certain extent, but most of my Korean students don't speak English very well, and so are either unwilling or ineffective in expressing their ideas.

Why do they do so well? In the latest TIMMS(Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study) results, Korean 8th graders, who finished second overall, scored a 597 on a standardized math test with an average score of 500. American students scored a 508 and were in 8th place.

Part of the reason for the Korean success is something called Korean academy. Korean students begin attending academy in grade 3. My Korean students, after attending my school from 7:30 am until 3 pm, head to another round of classes taught in Korean, by Korean teachers, with Korean classmates. This is Korean Academy. From 4 pm to 8 pm these students study math, science and English. They have an unrelenting schedule. Most of my Korean students attend academy 6 days a week, and Saturday's academy is an all day affair. They have a day off on Sunday. I once asked one of my Korean students, Jenny, if she slept all day on Sunday since it was her only day off each week. She looked at me strangely and said, "I can't sleep on Sunday, because that's the day I study."

So as I wonder what the tradeoff is for "all work, no play", I look around my class on any given day and see my Korean students spending their free time diligently working on some assignment, while a majority of my Western students spend their free time talking, laughing or surfing the net. While I contemplate what the long term implications are for these two subsets of teenagers, and to extrapolate, the respective countries, I know how much I cherish my quintessentially American youth and wonder if it would be worth giving that up for 89 points on a test.

Musak

2009-02-17T15:45:00.000-08:00

Normally, when wandering around shopping malls, the musak that is playing softly in the background is almost instinctively ignored, as if the human brain has the capability to discern "music" from "musak" and is able, when confronted with the latter, to selectively tune it out. China is no different - the shopping malls here have musak, and quite often it is Western music, especially Britney Spears and the ilk. This past weekend, however, I got quite a different taste of the musak. While doing a little grocery shopping, the local department store had some rap musak going over its speakers. It was very loud, and while I'm not sure who the artist was, maybe Akon, maybe not, I definitely noticed it. It wasn't the quality of the musak that stood out to my ears, but the lyrics. As the rapper was doing his thing, he continually dropped F-Bombs, and used very "colorful" language to describe certain parts of the male and female anatomy. As I stood there in the middle of the noodle aisle with a stunned look on my face, I looked to my fellow Chinese shoppers for some confirmation. I mean, if this was playing over the loudspeakers in an American store, people would be either laughing or getting angry. My fellow Chinese shoppers were more interested in looking at the packages of noodles, and had no noticeable response to this situation. My first reaction was to wonder how they could be so unaffected by this, and then I realized, they have NO idea what this guy was singing about. Ha! I laughed at myself and pictured the Chinese worker, who at the beginning of the day was assigned the task of picking out the musak for the day, and he stumbled across the Akon album, realized it was English music, and happily stuck in the CD player on repeat. It made me think of the classic tree falling in the woods paradox - that is, if someone says a swear word but no one understands it, is it still a swear word?

XLIII

2009-02-14T20:41:00.000-08:00

After last week, I have come to the conclusion that the Super Bowl is best consumed while on American soil. Not that I have much to complain about, mind you. My team won its NFL record 6th Super Bowl, and the game was incredible, but...

For one thing - I had to watch the game at 7 am on Monday morning. Since it was a work day, I had to take a personal day from work, which kind of stinks, but I couldn't miss THIS game. Also, since the bar I was at had an international feed, they didn't show the commercials. I was kind of bummed, sometimes they are better than the game.

The place I watched the game was a large sports bar in Shanghai, one of several such Western style bars that cater to foreigners like myself. There were quite a few people watching the game, I assumed they were all missing work like me. I met and/or counted about 20 Steelers fans and 3 Cardinals fans, so I felt like I was watching it at a bar in Pittsburgh. I even had the chance to teach a small Chinese boy that was there with his father how to wave a Terrible Towel.

I have to say that hearing the American national anthem sung , while in a foreign country, was a special experience for me. Its something that I took for granted living in America for 31 years, but hearing that song caused patriotic emotion to come bubbling up that I haven't felt in quite a while.

By the way, the Chinese refer to football as mei shi gan lan qiu, which translates to "American style olive shaped ball". Ha! Doesn't quite have the same ring, does it?

Mmmm...Sounds Tasty

2009-02-08T15:09:00.000-08:00

There is a local restaurant near my house that is known as one of the nicest restaurants in my section of Shanghai. It has a great decor, tasty food and even has a full color menu. I've eaten there several times, and am impressed by its overall quality. Restaurants of this pedigree in China will often have their menus translated into English, which shows that Westerners are expected to eat there, providing more proof of the quality of the restaurant. Well - judge for yourself if they've done a good job on the translations of their food...

1) Wonderful Gentleman Smoke Smokes Duck the Dried Meat meat

2) Pulls out the freshwater mussel to puncture the body likely

3) Daily family activity yellow cooks in a covered vessel the fries eel

4) Sheet iron rabbit meat string

5) Loving mother fragrant crisp stomach

6) One hangs the roast chicken

The Wedding

2009-01-28T19:36:00.001-08:00

Two weeks ago I was invited to attend a Chinese wedding by one of my Chinese coworkers. I was excited for the chance to see an eastern wedding and happily accepted the invitation. The wedding was yesterday and will no doubt be one of the most memorable experiences of my life. Where to begin? My friend, Caroline, who was visiting Shanghai for a few days, and I headed to the wedding very early in the morning and were greeted at the train station by Holly, my Chinese coworker, and her 92 old grandmother. Her grandmother had raised Holly from the age of 4 months old. Holly's father, an intellectual during the time of the cultural revolution, was sent to prison around the time Holly was born, and so Holly moved to Shanghai to live with her grandmother. Holly's grandmother, who adopted Holly when she herself was 60 years old, had lost her husband when she was 21 years old. He was shot by Japanese soldiers while working in a rice field. By Chinese custom during that time, she was not allowed to remarry. So from the age of 21 she has lived alone, yet maintains one of the most joyful and hopeful outlooks of anyone I've ever met. Holly is so devoted to her that she has moved in with her grandmother to help her with tasks and to keep her company. This familial devotion is common in China - and made me question what I will do when my own parents need aid in their day to day lives.

The wedding was taking place in a small town two hours north of Shanghai. Its name is Changzhou. When arriving in Changzhou, we were escorted to the bride and groom's apartment, which was purchased by the bride's family, and waited to see the bride and groom as they arrived pre-wedding. Once the bridal car pulled into the apartment complex, it was serenaded by a loud and smoky fireworks show.

Once the soon to be bride and groom made their way up the stairs into the apartment, a social mixer of sorts broke out. Members of both families were there and drinks and food were offered to us by almost everyone there. It soon became clear that we were more than just your average guests, that it was a big deal for us to be there. This fact didn't completely dawn on me until we were ushered into the couple's bedroom and told to sit on their wedding bed to take photos with them. It sure felt odd to me, I think I managed to mask my discomfort pretty well in the pictures, but both Caroline and I felt very strange. After the mixer at the couple's house, we where whisked away in a car to the location of the actual wedding. This was to be held in the nicest hotel in all of Changzhou, as the bride's family was wealthy and could afford the best for their daughter. The wedding was surprisingly western...except for one difference. Since most Chinese are non-Christians, pastors are not necessary for the ceremony. The person performing the wedding duties was a beautiful young Chinese girl in a dazzling evening gown. This made it feel more like a game show than a wedding. Once the ceremonies were over, the groom had to CARRY the bride around to every table in the room. By the end, he was red faced and out of breath, and I can't say I blame him.

Caroline and I sat at a table with Holly, her grandmother and several uncles and aunts. As the dinner wore on, being the only foreigners, we increasingly became the center of attention. Soon, men were coming over to me and offering, more like challenging, me to drink shots with them. I obliged out of a need not to upset any social morays, and soon was downing shot after shot, initiated by the salute, "Gan Bei", a Chinese version of "Cheers" except you must drink to the bottom of the glass.

Dizzy after finishing these drinks, we left the hotel and headed to a tomb of sorts for Holly's family. It was a building that housed the records of Holly's family dating back over 300 years, longer the the United States has existed. The family payed their respects to their ancestors with incense and bows, and we left to head to a post wedding feast. Midway through the feast, we were interrupted by a large explosion. Out on the street in front of the house, a ceremonial fireworks show had started to usher in good luck or scare away evil spirits. I know one thing, I can't speak for the evil spirits, but I was pretty frightened!

Midnight

2009-01-27T13:25:00.001-08:00

Major holidays are usually ushered in by some major event. Thanksgiving has the Macy's parade, New Year's has the dropping of the ball and so on. What I witnessed on Monday night, the first night of the Chinese New Year was one of the most stunning events I have seen during my 32+ years on this Earth. When the Chinese usher in a New Year, they USHER...

Once the Chinese have purchased their fireworks, they are not afraid to use them. Around 7 pm on Sunday night, I began to hear booms reverberating across the suburb where I live. As it got closer to midnight, the frequency and intensity of the explosions got greater and greater... I can only imagine this is what it sounds like in a war zone.

Now think about this...China doesn't have times zones, so it was midnight across China at the exact time...so this event was replayed across the country in countless villages, towns and cities. Can you imagine being an airplane and flying across China around this time?

These were fireworks being let off BETWEEN the buildings of the high rise complex where I live! Can you imagine this happening in America??

The Year of the Cow - Part 2

2009-01-26T17:43:00.001-08:00

This Sunday I had the opportunity to spend time with my Chinese friends on the day before the Chinese New Year. I was invited to eat lunch with my friend Maggie, and her boyfriend at his grandparents house. Chinese New Year is all about family getting together and enjoying the company, and I was told it was a big honor to have a laowai(general name that Chinese call Westerners) spending time with their family. Upon arriving at the grandparents house, I was first surprised how simple the living conditions were. The house was concrete, with several large rooms, and few windows. My first thought was that it must be extremely cold in that house. Upon my arrival I was greeted with smiles and handshakes by all the family. I was offered a cigarette by Maggie's boyfriend's father, which I smoked with him. Its considered a loss of face, and therefore a social faux pas, to turn down the offer of a gift, such as a cigarette, from someone in China. I have smoked about 6 cigarettes in the past few months, as it is a common practice for a Chinese male to offer one to someone upon meeting them. During the dinner, which included traditional Chinese food such as pig face and chicken feet, everyone was interested in observing how I reacted to their food. I gamely smiled as I chomped on the bony chicken foot and the spongelike pig face, and my hosts (I sat between Maggie and her boyfriend, who I called Jeff) continued to heap food upon my plate. After dinner, I had a chance to give a hongbao(red envelope with money inside) to Maggie's (shy) niece.

Later in the day, I went to my friend Vicki's house for a New Year's Eve dinner. The juxtaposition of the two families and their living conditions were somewhat startling. Vicki and her husband are members of the rapidly expanding Chinese middle class. They live in a very nice apartment, with a large TV(a source of pride) and enjoy many Western amenities. At the dinner, I had turtle for the first time, a delicacy that was especially prepared for the New Year's dinner. Vicki and her husband have a young son, who is one of the cutest babies I've ever met.

The Year of the Cow - Part 1

2009-01-23T01:33:00.000-08:00

So its time to say goodbye to the rat...as in the year of the Rat. On January 26th, the New Year begins in China - and so begins the year of the Ox(Cow). Today(Friday) the air was ripe with a palpable sense of excitement, as most of the Chinese natives that I work with are planning on going back to their hometowns and their families. This time of the year is called the Spring festival, and is considered the most important holiday in China - similar to Christmas in America. I will have a chance to observe several traditions up close over the next couple of days as I will be spending some time with my Chinese friends.

There are lanterns everywhere - an ubiquitous symbol of the impending holiday, and Gongxi Facai(Good luck and be prosperous) is heard quite often. Also common are the hongbao(red envelopes)that usually contain money(only even numbered amounts, odd numbered amounts are for funerals) and are given from an older to a younger person. 888 is a typical amount given - as the number eight is particularly lucky.

The Stromboli

2008-12-31T07:49:00.000-08:00

Last year, when I realized I was going to be spending two years in Shanghai, I didn't forsee the extent I would miss my American lifestyle. I knew I would miss my family, but I never imagined how much I would miss the little things.

Needless to say, after spending August through December 19th in Shanghai, when I got a chance to come home for a few weeks during break, I was estatic. Not just happy estatic, but like a 7 year old the night before Christmas estatic.

After a grueling 16 hour flight, where I was stuck in the middle seat between a girl going home to Georgia and a man heading home to Louisville, the plane finally landed in Atlanta where I had a 3 hour layover. I staggered off the plane toward the terminal, each step bringing me closer to American soil, and I got more and more excited. As I entered the airport, I took a moment to look around. First of all, in the sea of faces at the Atlanta airport, I finally saw diversity after months of only seeing Chinese faces. All kinds of hair and skin colors, and all kinds of shapes. It struck me how much larger, in the two directions that count, the people in the Atlanta airport were. After months of being able to see over a crowd of people in China, I was now eye level or lower with most of the crowd at the airport. During my first 5 months in China, I don't recall seeing a single clearly obese Chinese person. As I waited in line at customs, I saw quite a few. And knowing what I do about China, I am sure they would be stared at walking down a Shanghai street.

Most of all, it felt good to be able to comprehend all that was going on around me. I knew what all the signs meant, I could understand the announcements over the loud speakers, and a casual conversation could be had with the person in front of me without involving a one man pantomime show, which I often use to get my point across in China. I am sure I had a smile on my face as wide as the wings of the plane that brought me to America.
As I made it through customs at Atlanta International, and was walking towards baggage claim, a familiar smell began to wash over me - the tantalizing, delectible smell that is American food. Even though it was airport food, I really felt like the luckiest man at the airport. After months of eating a few limited items in China that I knew and trusted, the entire smorgasboard that is an American food court was open to me. Do I stop over the McDonalds and try a juicy American hamburger and wash it down with a soda? Do I head over to Subway and get a turkey breast sub after 5 months without turkey? As I turned I even saw a Chinese restaurant - eek! Finally, my eyes settled on the chosen spot. Directly in front of me, like an oasis in a barren desert, was a Sbarros. One of my all time favorite foods is a stromboli, and I could almost taste it. My feet barely touched the floor as I sped towards the slice of heaven known as Sbarros, thoughts of Italian food filling my head. My mouth was watering enough to put Pavlov's dogs to shame as I ordered the stromboli. My hand trembled as I exchanged the money for the food, easily the best money I've ever spent. I finally found a seat in the crowded airport, but my focus was only on the stromboli. All other external stimuli faded away as my world consisted of me and that delicious concoction of pepperoni, ham and bread. As my mouth bit down, and the flavors washed over my taste buds for the first time in almost half a year, I realized what I had given up to go to China. I devoured the stromboli in record time, but instead of sating my appetite, it only made me long for the other foods I have been missing. Ben and Jerry's, chocolate chip cookies, eggnog, the list goes on and on. My three weeks in America will be spent seeing family and spending time with my amazing girlfriend, but truthfully, all of that is a front. My true passion over these three weeks will be to eat as much American food as I can, waistline be damned!

Christmas...I think

2008-12-14T13:46:00.000-08:00

So the Chinese do celebrate Christmas...sort of. In fact, my local shopping mall looks very much like its American counterpart might look this time of year. There are Christmas decorations, a Santa Claus standing at the entrance, and even the employees wear red Christmas hats. They even have Christmas carols translated into Chinese playing over the loudspeaker...if you listen carefully you can hear one in the background.

Sunday Morning Ritual

2008-12-14T13:05:00.001-08:00

The Chinese love basketball. Absolutely love it - more, I think, than most Americans. When I was in Beijing for the Olympics, all I saw around me were advertisements for Nike and Reebok, larger than life NBA players hanging from billboards and walls, enticing thousands of Chinese into impulsive shoe purchases daily. While the Chinese love Yao Ming, for some unknown reason, Kobe Bryant is a God here. He has an ad on TV, his face is recognized by almost all Chinese, and he was undoubtedly the most famous Olympian at the Games, bigger than even the Chinese stars, Yao Ming and Liu Xiang, the Chinese hurdler.

I guess then, that it is not surprising that one of the ways Americans and Chinese relate to each other is through the game of basketball. Lanqiu, as its called in Chinese, gives both countries a common language. The camaraderie that is built on the court transcends the game itself, and has led me to count among my friends quite a few of the Chinese guys I play against and with on a weekly basis. These friendships have at the center the game of basketball. We play every Sunday morning, and it is, quite honestly, one of the highlights of my week.

Liquid Nitrogen

2008-12-10T14:08:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I had a chance to do some really cool science with my students. By cool, I mean cold, about -200 degrees Celcius cold! I brought liquid nitrogen into the classroom and got a chance to talk about properties of gasses while seeing some pretty unique physical phenomena. One of the best parts of my day was getting to share the nitrogen demos with students in the lower school, grades K-4. I almost always work with high school students, and while I enjoy working with them, there was something refreshing about the innocent excitement that filled the young students eyes. They could not contain the sheer amazement they had while watching the "magical" demos. From shrinking balloons, to eating frozen marshmallows, it was a special day. And its cute to hear the young students explanations for different things. When the nitrogen cools the air in a balloon, causing it to shrivel up into nothing, one little girl raised her hand and asked, with a grave seriousness, "Did you just kill the air?"

I've included a few pictures and a video of one of my favorite demonstrations. This was done in my senior physics class, and we managed to fit 14 balloons into the bowl of liquid nitrogen. Check it out - and don't ever let me hear you say science isn't "cool"!

An Unusual Taxi Ride

2008-12-07T04:54:00.000-08:00

Sorry for my long hiatus...my girlfriend was here for about two weeks and the semester is winding down at school. Two poor excuses...I know. :) I do have a lot of pictures to put up, and tales to tell, which I will get to, but for a now a quick story that actually just happened a few hours ago.
I was at my local department store tonight shopping for some presents and food items. I had about six large bags worth of stuff to carry, so since I couldn't ride my bike home(my usual method of transportation), I decided to take a taxi. In front of the department store they have a taxi line, and I moved into line and waited for a cab. I finally got to the front of the line and was waiting for a taxi to pull up. A small, green car pulls up in front of me, cutting off a driver that was about to pick me up. With an angry taxi cab driver behind him, the navigator of the small green car motions for me to get in. Another family had started to get in the cab that was behind the green car, and with my options dwinding and my fingers tingling(it is very cold tonight) I took the man up on his offer and put my stuff in his car and jumped in. I took note of his waving golden cat(they are very popular here) attached to his dashboard and wondered what just happened. We arrived at my destination and he stops the car, quickly turning around with his hand extended. He wants money. I only have a few coins, and then several large bills. I show him and explain my situation, that I am not giving him the big bills, and he doesn't have change, so he huffs and takes the few small coins and drives off - to his home, maybe his wife and child I presume. I am left in the cold with my things - but also left wondering how often this type of thing happens. Can you imagine driving home from work, pulling into a taxi line and picking someone up, and then demanding they pay you? It really is every man and women for themselves here in China - they are all looking to make a quick RMB - no matter what they have to do.

This is China #3

2008-11-12T14:02:00.000-08:00

Here are a couple of items I've found in the last week at my local department store.

The first item is a popular spice used by the Chinese. Something tells me it wouldn't be a hit in America....

And even though the Chinese don't celebrate Christmas, they have a small section of Christmas items available for the handful of westerners that shop at the store. I guess Christmas is coming early this year...

This Little Piggy Went to the Market

2008-11-12T13:41:00.000-08:00

OK - this post is also about pigs. Before you think I've become pig obsessed(I'm not) realize that China IS pig obsessed - at least at dinner time. Pork and chicken are the most devoured foods in China. My last post related a vicious attack I was subject to at the hands(nose,really) of an oinker. Today I am just going to mention the high frequency of pigs going to the market that I see every morning(around 5 am) on my 4 minute bike ride to school. These pigs are usually stacked 5 or 6 high on the back of a motorcycle. My understanding is anyone can rent out their vehicle to carry pigs to the market. Some of these people pick up the pigs, throw them on their bike or into the back of their car, drop them off at the market, and then head off to work. And you think your commute is messy....

The Other White Meat

2008-11-08T03:01:00.000-08:00

Tonight, I almost died. OK - so maybe I am exaggerating just a bit - but not since I consumed a small bottle of energy drink in one gulp during college has my heart beat as fast as it did tonight. My chest must have looked like it belonged in the movie Alien with my heart going as hard and fast as it was just minutes ago. Let me paint the picture...
I decided around 6:30 pm to go for a run. It was a cool, crisp fall night and the air was crystal clear, which happens about once a month here in Shanghai. I thought I should take advantage of the clear air so I headed out for a jog. Now Shanghai is a very runner/biker friendly place. Alongside each main road, on each side of the road, are wide paved bike lanes with a median between it and the road. Chicago could learn from Shanghai in this regard....
Plenty of space for all of the people on bicycles, motorcycles and two feet. Occasionally you will see a car parked in this bike lane, because the car is making a delivery to one of the houses on the other side of the bike lane. As you run past you need to squeeze around these vehicles as there is not much room on either side, so its a tight fit. Tonight, I was well into my run, 20 or 30 minutes and I was in the zone. My I-Pod kept putting out great song after great song, and I was oblivious to all but my breathing and the pavement. It was dark out and the street lights were ample enough to light the bike path, so I was able to see in the distance a truck with a large cargo box in its bed. Thinking nothing of it, as again, these things are common, I began to squeeze past the truck in a slow jog, still oblivious, lost in my I-Tuney world. As I passed the truck I remember thinking how warm it felt, figuring it must be the engine block giving off heat. I neared the end of the truck, and one of the five most singularly frightening moments of my life occured. Out of nowhere, and for no apparent reason - a giant pig thrust his large, warm, wet nose out of the truck and right up against my arm while snorting simultaneously. Normally this would have caused a mild reaction on my part, but considering my mental state at this stage in the run, I would have been no more shocked to be scooped up by a large dinosaur and carried off into the wilderness. I leapt back as if I had been tazed, and at the same time that I was screaming like an 8 year old girl, I tripped on the nearby curb and fell into the median, and a large, thorny bush. The pig, having seen enough, snorted one more time for good measure, and pulled his nose back into the truck, presumably to go tell his pig buddies what he just did to a human. I was not only in complete shock, with thorn scratches on my arms, breathless and adrenaline filled, but to compound my problem, the always helpful Chinese decided to come over and lift me off the ground as they had seen what happened. Apparently convinced that I was really hurt, I think they were trying to lift me up and carry me to safety. Still in a state of shock, I had to tell them politely, or as politely as I could at the moment, to leave me alone. Now faced with a 30 minute run back to my apartment with a throbbing heart and panting breath, I gamely began trudging back from whence I came, only this time making sure to make a wide berth around the truck of pigs.

23 Million...and counting

2008-11-06T01:35:00.001-08:00

While its probably well known that the population of China is somewhere around 1.3 billion, 23 million of those people have decided to spend their lives living together in the city of Shanghai. There are moments when I can really "feel" the weight of the enormous population. For example - I will sometimes ride my bike down a back alley near my house as a shortcut - an alley that in America would be occupied by a garbage dumpster and maybe a rat or two, but in China that alley has about 10 people on bikes, another 20 or so walking through, and maybe even a food or trinket stand set up. Of all the places in Shanghai, though, I feel the "people pressure" the most on the subway. I took these two videos of the Shanghai subway on a Saturday afternoon, not a Friday rush hour. It is common as you enter a subway car to be pushed(rather hard, I might add) by the person behind you, as everyone is desperate to make the train before the doors close. When you have 23 million people trying to get somewhere, the result is rather uncomfortable. See for yourself....

Its a Small World After All

2008-11-06T00:51:00.000-08:00

Two recent events have made me realize once again that the world is shrinking by the second. The first one occurred a few weeks ago. I have several friends who work in a nanotechnology lab at Northwestern University in Chicago, IL. I had asked them if they would be willing to speak to my AP Physics students about what kind of work they were doing, their science backgrounds, etc. They said they were more than willing, but the question was - were they able? The problem was a logistical one - I teach in China, they live in America. Thanks to a computer program called Skype(all international Americans I know use it and can't live without it) my class and I were able to have a live videoconference with these two American-based researchers. Skype - which allows two computers to connect over the internet - is completely free and offers the ability for the two parties to see each other through webcams. So while my AP Physics students were still rubbing their eyes at 8 am in the morning, they were being shown specimens of nanomaterials via webcam from half the world away, by researchers who were finishing up a day's work and getting ready to head home.

The second event was incredible. It was shared by millions, if not billions of people, all in their own way. Since the time difference between China and the USA is 13 hours - while Barack Obama was giving his inspirational acceptance speech 7000 miles away in the middle of the night - my students were able to watch history unfold live in front of them as the bright midday sun shone through the windows. While my classroom is a mix of nationalities, cultures and political viewpoints - my students agree- it was spine tingling to share such an historic moment. And the familiar song is stuck in my head - for it is a small world after all...

Halloween in China

2008-11-01T22:41:00.001-07:00

Halloween is a mysterious holiday in China. Foreigners are still enough of a curiousity to be interesting distractions in and of themselves, but dress that same foreigner up in a strange costume and you now have a showstopper. I wasn't quite ready for the attention my friends and I would receive as we walked along the streets of Shanghai in costume. My costume, which was more alarming than I intended, was that of a Chinese xiaojie, or singing girl. I wore a traditional Chinese dress, a wig, white face makeup and carried a fan that I used to shield my face as much as possible. I also attempted to take on the persona of a xiaojie - giggly and in general being very shy - which is hard for me. The reason, I think, that the Chinese found my costume alarming is because as I began to sweat, the makeup ran down my face and gave it a strange, mottled look. Plus - at 6 feet - I was a very large person(by Chinese standards) walking around in a dress. Three times, Chinese women, upon seeing me as I passed by them, literally screamed out and jumped away as I walked by. Two little boys, their faces in awe and mouths agape, followed me for nearly five minutes, laughing and pointing the whole time. I stopped once on the street, and a crowd of about 20 people gathered and I became a photo op, person after person grabbing my arm, smiling and making the ubiquitous peace sign into the camera as everyone stared at the giant white faced Chinese "woman".

It made me wonder what they were thinking, what they were saying in their hushed, unintelligible tones. I guess it just reminded me once again, that the thing we most often fear is that with which we are unfamiliar. I found it ironic, then, that I, being in a country and culture that is so unfamiliar to me, for one night at least, went from being surrounded by the unfamiliar to becoming that thing that isn't understood, that object that haunts by its sheer mystery. Oh - I can't wait until next Halloween!

Jiaozi and Happy Birthday

2008-10-26T16:48:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I was invited to the home of one of my new Chinese friends. His name is William and we met in a little convenience store that is adjacent to my apartment. William saw me in the store and came over and introduced himself in broken English, and then I returned the favor, introducing myself in broken Chinese. We both shared a laugh, and he gave me his card and invited me to his father-in-law's house Saturday for a family get together. It turns out the family was celebrating William's birthday! Saturday morning, I met William and his wife at their apartment, and we jumped on a bus and ended up at the subway. We took the subway for a while, and then got off and took another bus. After the bus stopped, we jumped in a cab and finished the ride. We were in transit for over an hour and half. I asked William if we were still in Shanghai, and he looked at me strangely, and said "Of course you are still in Shanghai." The Chinese are so used to the enormous size of their cities that it didn't dawn on him that driving an hour and a half might have placed us outside of Shanghai. I think there are states in America that you can drive across in an hour and half.

Once at William's house, I was greeted warmly by his family. They were very impressed that William had a waigouren (foreigner) as a friend. After asking me a lot of questions about America, I showed them some pictures of my family. They insisted that my sister was piaoliang(beautiful - she is) and that she looks just like Britney Spears(she doesn't). I was offered cigarettes twice, each time politely refusing.

I was then invited into the living room to help prepare the jiaozi, the famous Chinese dumpling. It is a piece of dough filled with tuber oil. The green filling contains pork, and is very tasty. It is eaten after the main dishes, sort of like a meaty dessert.

After dinner - and after William's father- in-law made me his honorary Chinese son (I had to toast him as "baba" - father in Chinese)-we sang Happy Birthday to William. In Chinese, Happy Birthday is pronounced "Shengri kuaile" and the song has the same tune as the American version.

I had to be up early the next day, so after Happy Birthday, William took me on his bicycle(I sat sidesaddle on the back) to the bus stop, where I began the journey back home.

Bad Day

2008-10-26T04:19:00.000-07:00

I guess it could have happened anywhere, at anytime. Fortunately for me - it happened in the middle of the day at the intersection in front of my school. (My school is directly to the right in this picture)

Can you imagine the conversation going on in the cab of the truck as it begins to tilt upward? What do you think the men behind the truck are thinking? (Well, maybe if we all lift.....)

The Invasion

2008-10-18T18:16:00.001-07:00

It is such a weird moment when you are walking along a street in China with clothes hanging from the windows of nearby houses, Chinese music drifting through the air and you pass a cart filled with Chinese goodies - only to come upon....a Starbucks. It doesn't happen often - but American companies are beginning to integrate themselves into Chinese culture. The success rate is mixed - KFC and Starbucks are doing well, McDonalds(beef, the staple of McDonalds menu, is not popular here) is lagging behind.

As far as shopping, even though the big department stores are in China - you can't beat the street markets for quality and price. The street markets also give you a chance to work on your bargaining skills, an invaluable asset in China.

Interesting Advertisement

2008-10-18T18:00:00.000-07:00

I saw this on the subway in Shanghai. This is the kind of stuff you just don't see marketed to the masses in America....

Going Commando

2008-10-18T03:11:00.000-07:00

Things are a little bit different for parents in China. Whether its an effort to save money, an ancient tradition, or an attempt to set a fashion trend at an early age – the Chinese eschew diapers in favor of pants with no bottom. That’s right – all young children in China are going commando – and I saw a mother holding her young boy up in the air so he could “tinkle” – on a busy sidewalk. Things are definitely different here. I passed two young boys splashing around in a makeshift bathtub on the sidewalk – and they were completely naked. This was also a busy sidewalk(come to think of it – all sidewalks in Shanghai are pretty busy). The Chinese are so pragmatic about this stuff -why spend money on diapers when all you do is ruin them?

Cormorant Fishing

2008-10-14T14:57:00.000-07:00

This past week I went with a group of students to a village in southern China named Yangshuo. This village is in a part of China that is littered with karst rock formations. It is known as one of the most beautiful areas in China - and consequently is one of the most heavily touristed. In this small town, which lies on a river, the local fishermen employ a method of fishing that harkens back to an age ago, and has mostly been supplanted by more efficient fishing methods in the rest of China. The fishermen spend two years training a seabird, called a cormorant, to catch fish for them. The birds have a small ring tied around their neck. This allows the bird to swallow small fish, but the ring prevents the cormorant from swallowing larger fish. The larger fish end up on the fisherman's boat, as he will pull the bird up and the bird will spit the fish out. This fishing is almost always done at night, as the use of a large light draws the fish towards the surface which makes it easier for the cormorant to catch them.

A "Welcome to China" Moment

2008-10-13T15:31:00.001-07:00

As I mentioned in my previous post, I spent part of my vacation in the beautiful city of Xi'an. I had planned to leave Xi'an on Sunday afternoon, and arrived at the airport with my bags packed and reservation in hand. When I got to the airport, I went to the ticket booth and handed them my reservation. The ticket agent went to the computer, looked up my reservation, and said to me that my ticket has been cancelled. I asked him to check again, which he did, and confirmed that I had no ticket on the flight. So I had to be back in Shanghai for school on Monday, and with no flight available that night, and without a ticket, my only option to arrive back in Shanghai was a train ride - the same 19 hour train ride I was on from Shanghai to Xi'an. I went to the train ticket station to buy a return ticket home. The ticket agent squinted at her computer screen and told me that there was a ticket available - but it would be a standing room only ticket. So the only way for me to get home was to stand on a train for 19 hours...and since I had no choice, I winced as I bought the ticket, knowing what awaited me. It was as bad as I thought - the worst part of the ride was that I got stuck in the smoking room between the two train cars - so for the better part of the ride I was forced to inhale cigarette smoke from the many smokers on the train(the Chinese love to smoke - especially the men). Needless to say - when the train pulled into Shanghai's train station some 19 hours later - I was never so happy to arrive somewhere in my life.

Xi'an

2008-10-06T21:15:00.000-07:00

This past week was a holiday week in China. Most of the Chinese have the week off for work and travel back to their hometowns to spend time with family. My school had the week off as well - so I thought it would afford me the chance to see some of China. I decided to go to the ancient Chinese city of Xi'an, partly because I had been wanting to see the famed Terra Cotta army located about an hour northeast of the city, and also because Xi'an is renowned for its city wall - which dates back to the 14th century.

The first part of my adventure started on Wednesday, October 1st. I boarded a train heading for Xi'an prepared for the 19 hour train ride with a book(20000 Leagues Under the Sea - which was great - wish I would have read it earlier!) and my Lonely Planet China guide. I was joined in my train car by 3 other people - Dr. Wang, his wife, Dr. Zhu, and another man - who never mentioned his name - but who did teach me how to play Chinese poker. Dr. Wang and Dr. Zhu were both retired doctors who were off to Xi'an to visit friends.

Also - since it my father's birthday back in the States(Sept. 27th) - they gave him a little birthday greeting.

Once arrived in Xi'an - I was able to see some pretty neat things. They have a museum in the center of the city that contain stone tablets with 900 year old Chinese Confucian writings etched into them. I was also able to go to a panda bear breeding center - where endangered pandas are brought to.....well, you know. The highlight of my trip was riding a bicycle around the Xi'an city wall at night - with thousands of Chinese lanterns lighting the path - and beautiful pagodas located everywhere. I got a chance to see bingmaying - or the Terra Cotta warriors. I was a little disappointed in the site - I thought there would be many more of them - but they told us that many soldiers have yet to be unearthed, and still more are under repair. I've also included a good Chinglish sign that was located just outside the entrance to the Terra Cotta warriors....

Finally - Xi'an - a city of over 8 million people - has major intersections that do not have stoplights. So crossing them can be treacherous. Judge for yourself....

Pearl Tower

2008-09-30T23:34:00.000-07:00

There are few things in Shanghai that elicit more opinions than the Pearl Tower. More Chinese seem to dislike it - but there is no denying it is a memorable building. A recent piece of architecture - it has become the symbol of the new China. Towering 365 meters above the rest of the city - it truly is a sight to behold. A few of my friends and I had a chance to tour the tower a few days ago - and had quite an experience. The pictures below show the view we had - a 360 panoramic view of Shanghai - but the true experience was in the elevator on the way down. Leaving the third pearl - a mere 15oo feet above the ground - we were jammed into a small elevator with about 20 other people. The elevator operator calmly pushed the button to go down - and the whole elevator jumped, as the cable slipped slightly. Needless to say, the look on everyone's face was wide eyed shock as I, for a brief second, contemplated what the last few seconds of my life were going to be like - standing torso to torso, face to face with a Chinese man. The elevator operator maintained her cool - and without a look of strain on her countenance, she opened the elevator door and motioned two people off - and we finished our ride down to the ground without further incident.

There is also a great Chinglish sign in these pictures - this is the sign by the main entrance to the Pearl Tower - a place that everyone passes - so a crowd of waigouren(foreigners) had gathered to read the sign, all of us with bemused looks on our faces.

Chinese Weddings

2008-09-28T08:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I wandered around a part of Shanghai called Lujiazui. Lujiazui is the embodiment of the new Shanghai. It is the financial center of Shanghai - and home to most of the really tall buildings. It also contains a large central park with trees and grass(a rarity in the heart of Shanghai) and an idyllic pond with lilies and flowers petals floating on the surface. A very surreal place - surrounded by some of the world's tallest buildings. It is a point of interest because this park is very popular for weddings and wedding photos. As I wandered around the park yesterday - maybe 5 acres in total area - I came across EIGHT different Chinese bridal parties.

As with most things in Shanghai - you might notice a Western influence in the wedding attire.

Life as an Expat

2008-09-25T22:36:00.000-07:00

I wanted to share a beautiful letter that one of my friends and colleagues in China has written about herself that I think describes exactly what life as an expat is like. She and her husband have been in China for several years - and love the international life. They are both originally from Oklahoma - and her letters captures exactly what it is that is so frustrating, yet fascinating, about living overseas.

I've become more than a case of a missing identity. Gone are the days of crazed youth. Not that I ever had any, any to speak of that is. Growing up like most American teens in the 70's, I didn't miss much. Lots of TV, some junk food, bunches of dates, lucky guys with cars, losing my virginity to one of them - a guy in a car. Marrying relatively early, having a kid, getting divorced, and sorting out a rather fear-led life gave me the same lens to view the world as most people in the USA.

However, in my 30s I began to depart from normality. I earned a Masters Degree at age 39, married my best friend, sent my son off to college, and began traveling the world. Since then, the focus of my life seems a bit distorted to those back home. Now, I live in an exotic city on the other side of the world. At age 50, I ride my bike, rain or shine, everywhere. I meet exciting and fun people who rotate yearly out of my life. I SKYPE close family, use email to communicate with dozens of friends, and live in a lovely furnished home that I could never afford in America.

What do I give up for this kind of life? Not much, in my estimation, but a whole lot to some of those who grew up with and around me. Too much for those who still live within hollering distance of friends and family - those who have grown so close that glue between the sole and the shoe is no longer necessary. Their camera shots all come out the same, unchanged, a little time worn, smaller in scope, and typical in setting. Another year, another birthday party, another loss, it is all the same to them, yet it keeps rolling forward: without me.

Here is where I feel the distance. I could never blame them. I could never say they ostracize me, make me feel like and outsider, make me want to stay away. We go home to visit, our two-point-five weeks of alloted time once a year. We make the journey back into their worlds. They view us from afar, wondering what foreign fungus has attached it self to our external features, asking just enough questions to verify our strange speech, or to recoil from our unsolicited ideas.

One question for them remains the same: when are y'all coming home? This question arises every year in the midst of short conversations flavored with home-grown foods and sugar filled iced-tea, hovering around comments like: "I don't know why ya'll want to live over there in that God-forsaken country," or "Why, I couldn't live where human rights are violated every day by hard-nosed politicians." And, yet, they do.

I've ceased trying to respond with any kind of logic. It will always remain far from their scope or frame of reference. In fact, it ceases to bother me if they fail to make the connection, or try to see how attractive life in a foreign country might be to an expat American. I've come to accept the world as a very large place, with dozens of colors of skin, hundreds of nationalities, millions of viewpoints. I am one sole fish in an ever-shrinking ocean of cultural identity.

One of these days, I fully expect I won't be recognizable to my own kind. I will blend in with the masses because I feel at home with them. I will go my own way because I like being anonymous, an expat living large in a beautiful world. Even now, they might wonder where I've gone, but it seems too far away from them to squint and comprehend. In many ways, I've become unidentifiable, complex and strange. I live half way around the world with those people - those they don't know. They can't identify with them. Next, they'll begin to ask, what I've become.

Mr. Held?

2008-09-20T23:19:00.000-07:00

As a teacher, one of the hardest parts of my job is getting separation. Separation from the school, my colleagues and especially the students. Spending 10-12 hours a day, five days a week at the school means I cherish those moments during the weekend when I can breathe, relax and give my energy to someone who needs it - namely - me!

In America - one of the safest places to seek refuge when going out on the town was a bar. Even if students would sneak in - if they saw you they would quickly disappear so as not to alert the bar staff to their underage presence.

As with most things in China - its much different here - particularly in that regard. Last night, myself and five of my teacher friends went out to a bar in Shanghai. Now Shanghai is one of the largest cities in the world, with over 20 million people and countless bars - so I felt pretty confident that I could enjoy a drink and some good conversation at this place while remaining anonymous.

However - about 20 minutes after we arrived, as we were sitting on two couches enjoying beers and talking - I heard a voice behind me say, "Mr. Held - is that you?"

I didn't immediately recognize the voice - but it didn't matter. Only a few people in this world call me Mr. Held, and I really did not want to see any of them at the moment. Unfortunately - that was not the case. I turned - and standing in front of me was a group of 8 students from my sophomore math class. Suffice to say - it was awkward. My friends and I were staring at my 15 and 16 year old students, most of whom had a drink in hand, a few of whom were smoking. A couple lines of small talk and they scattered to the far corners of the bar - but my night was over. I finished my drink swiftly and we headed out to another location as quickly as we could - knowing nothing really good could come from lounging in the same bar as my students. My decision was confirmed as I was passing through the door and I heard, "Wait - Mr. Held - do a shot with us!"

The students can be brazen like this because there is no enforcement of the minimum drinking age in China - so a good number of kids start drinking when they enter high school as freshmen. I guess you know you are in a different country when instead of offering the teacher an apple, the student orders an appletini.

American Football.... China Style

2008-09-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

I love football - and when I moved over here I thought I might be without it. Luckily that is not the case - but I've had to get creative.

Mid Autumn Festival

2008-09-14T14:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday(in China - 12 hours ahead) - September 14th - was the second biggest holiday on the Chinese calendar. Its a celebration called the Mid Autumn Festival and it falls on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month(The Chinese use two calendars - one Gregorian - like the USA, the other based on the moon cycles). Mid Autumn Festival is between the middle and end of September on the Gregorian Calendar.

The Chinese celebrate by getting together with family, watching the full moon and eating mooncakes. The legend has it that a beautiful woman named Chang'e once ate some medicine that made her immortal(and like a girl after Ralph Cramden's heart - she flew to the moon where she now resides).

The grocery stores in China are stocked with both mooncakes and pictures of Chang'e. The mooncakes are normally filled with fruit or beans - and I ate several yesterday in celebration. The taste is not something I really appreciated - but the Chinese really like them. The mooncakes come in beautiful, ornately designed boxes that make the purchase worth it in spite of the taste of the mooncakes.

It was weird for me to be surrounded by people who were celebrating and excited about something that did not resonate with me. I felt the entire day like I had wandered into a stranger's birthday party. I saw the happy faces and I could relate to their holiday cheer - yet to me it was just another day with no special meaning. Very strange...

Christmas in September?

2008-09-10T15:53:00.000-07:00

Most Chinese people neither celebrate or acknowledge any of American holidays. Even one that we share in name (New Year's) is vastly different in the two countries - Chinese New Year is celebrated in February and its a week long celebration.

One holiday that is shared -in a rather strange way- is Christmas. I doubt many Chinese celebrate it - since its based on a religion that isn't part of China's history. That doesn't mean China isn't full of Christmas spirit. Most kid rides that you can find in shopping malls and grocery stores play some peppy little tunes that will be very recognizable to the western ear. So while I hear "Jingle Bells" and think of Christmas trees and stockings - a generation of Chinese will hear it and think of... the mall.

A Thousand Words

2008-09-07T01:37:00.001-07:00

If a picture is worth a thousand - then how much is a video worth? Last night while out in the Hanqiao section of Shanghai - amongst the glittering skyscrapers and busy Chinese traffic - a man on a bike with hundreds of pieces recyclable styrofoam strapped to its frame rode past. This is a perfect example of China today - stuck in between a cosmopolitan rebirth and deep traditional cultural roots. Its also just a funny image...

The Muffin Joke

2008-09-04T19:31:00.000-07:00

There are two muffins sitting in an oven. One muffin turns to the other and says, "Man - its really hot in here." The second muffin goes, "AHHH - a talking muffin!"

I've told that joke for years now to all of my classes and without fail it is greeted with groans and rolled eyes - until yesterday, that is.

In my Algebra II class this year there is a very earnest and hardworking student named Jun. Jun is also extremely high strung. Yesterday, to begin class, I started to tell my muffin joke. I happened to be standing right next to Jun when I was telling the joke. As I got to the part with "AHHH" in it - Jun turns, screams at the top of his lungs, and almost falls out of his chair. The look on his face is that of complete and utter terror. He was so scared that it scared me for a second - and then the entire class burst into laughter. As soon as Jun realized what he had done - he started laughing as well. His reaction startled me so much it took a few seconds for my heart to stop racing. I tried to continue teaching - but it took about 5 minutes for the classroom to return to normal. Needless to say - that may have been the funniest joke I've every told - and it had nothing to do with me.

This isn't on any brochures

2008-09-04T04:11:00.000-07:00

China is a land that wants to perpetuate an image of beauty and success. You see this in the way the Chinese spend money on fancy clothing, or the way the Chinese handled the national anthem at the Olympics - foisting a much prettier, more ideal Chinese girl in front of the global audience. I can't blame them - America is the same way - but there are literally tens of millions of Chinese that you don't see on the TV- or in the tourism brochures. These men, women and children are part of the largest migration of mankind that has ever existed - at least that is what I've been told. They head toward the east coast and cities such as Shanghai searching for prosperity - not unlike the early immigrants arriving in New York's harbors at the turn of the century - all looking for a better life. I got an intimate look at this side of China last week - as a family of four "moved" into the vacant lot behind my apartment. For a week they lived amongst the rubble of a demolished building - spending their day picking out pieces of metal and aluminum cans to sell to the highest bidder. They left yesterday - but it will be a while before I forget them. They made a point to smile and say "Ni hao" every time I passed - seemingly oblivious to the conditions surrounding them. That is what I will remember most - the smiles and good cheer - and that is what I am beginning to feel is the true spirit of China.

Lost in Translation #2

2008-08-30T02:08:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I went to a store called B & Q. Home Depot in China is more like it - even down to the orange signage all around. I had gone there to buy whiteboards for my student's groupwork. In America, I had purchased a sheet of showerboard(which is what I use for my whiteboards) and had it cut into equal sized squares. It was a simple process and I was able to walk out of the Home Depot with enough white boards for each student to work on. Well - as I am quickly finding out - tasks which are simple in America are no longer simple. I entered the Chinese Home Depot and quickly found a salesperson. I had my Chinese-English dictionary with me, but much to my chagrin it did not have the word showerboard in its list of S words. That meant it was time for a game of what I call Chinese Charades. I have played this game several times before in different locations - and it usually is to the great amusement of the person I am talking to, and a great headache for me. I began my pantomime with a shower that Marcel Marceau would have been proud of - and to my surprise the salesman immediately smiled and walked me directly back to the.....showerheads. Not bad though, I was on the right track. I wanted to convey that I was looking for wood, so I began to pantomime a tree. I did this by squatting with my hands around an invisible tree trunk. I then stood up slowly with my hands still around the shaft of the tree and finally I would spread my hands out and wiggle my fingers several times to show the leaves of my "tree." The first time was no good - a blank stare was all that I received in return for my performance, so I squatted again. As I rose a second time with my hands around the imaginary trunk - I heard the salesman say something in Chinese - and before I knew it a group of about 6 other salesman had gathered to watch the show. I went for a third squat and as I was finishing the "leaves" of my "tree" the entire group burst out laughing and it was clear to me that my motions conveyed something decidedly different to these men. They were not seeing my "tree" - but something rather inappropriate for the main floor that I realized too late to prevent Now embarrassed and having what seemed like half of the staff of the store laughing at me - I ran to the wood section of the store - grabbed a piece of wood and brought it back. I finally got the message across and about 5 minutes later I got what I wanted, but like everything in China - the experience costs much more than the object itself.

Lost in Translation

2008-08-26T13:40:00.000-07:00

One of the Chinese government's big pushes during the past year was to eliminate what is known as "Chinglish" - which is the mangling of English that occurs when Chinese characters and sentences that appear on signs are translated into English. Its a famous and admittedly funny aspect to life in China as a foreigner. Even though the government tried to have perfect and sensical English on every sign- since the Chinese language is so different from English in grammatical structure(no plurals - for example) - some "chinglish" still remains. Here are some highlights that I've seen in Beijing and Shanghai:

Made in China

2008-08-24T04:22:00.000-07:00

Three words. Three words that stir up a maelstrom of controversy. Three words that have a different meaning to different people. Three words that are simultaneously a punchline, a rallying cry and even a source of pride.
In America - you cannot find a store whose merchandise is not emblazoned with these words. Our economy is intimately tied to those three words -as is China's. So what exactly does "Made in China" mean, in China?

I had a chance to tour a Chinese factory. This factory is similar in many ways to the countless other factories that are spread across this sprawling landmass. The conditions inside of the factory were not great - certainly not to the standards of an American factory - but they were not wholly awful. The factory I got to tour makes refrigerator magnets. You may have a magnet from this factory in your home or office right now. The workers in the factory that I had a chance to meet were focused but pleasant. One major difference at this factory is that the workers only work 40 hours a week. The work 8 hour shifts - unlike most other Chinese factories where working hours can easily be double that amount. This particular location is a very desirable job for a local Chinese worker for another reason. The owners of the factory pay their employees a good wage - much more than the average factory worker would make. The video below gives a brief view into this Chinese factory - and maybe a greater insight into the three words -"Made in China"

Who are Ben and Jerry?

2008-08-22T17:52:00.000-07:00

One of my major dietary weaknesses is Ben and Jerry's Half Baked ice cream. I can't go more than a week in America without buying a pint, telling myself to eat it slowly, only to look down at the ground 3 minutes later and see a crumpled, empty container on the the ground and an ice cream streak running down my shirt.

I won't have to worry about that in China - they don't have Ben and Jerry's, in fact they don't have ice cream as America knows it. While you can find it in a few stores that sell Western goods - the price for a pint is about $15 USD. Hen gui!!

While the Chinese don't like American style ice cream - they do eat ice cream - but its of a decidedly different perspective. Below are two popular ice cream flavors you can buy anywhere you go.

This is China #1

2008-08-19T23:21:00.000-07:00

One of the great parts of being a Westerner in China(beside the low cost of living) is the respect you are usually afforded. I am not exactly sure why all Westerners are afforded this respect - but its given by most, not all, but most Chinese people.

One of the times when this respect is shown is in regards to Chinese children. When a Westerner gives attention to a Chinese child - the parents beam with pride and will often want a picture taken with the child and the foreigner. When I was in Beijing for the Olympics - one particularly zealous parent rushed over and insisted that I pose with his son for a picture. While the father was very excited, somehow I got the impression the kid's feelings were slightly different. You be the judge...

I guess not everyone is a Steelers fan...

2008-08-18T03:55:00.000-07:00

Most westerners in China have an ayi(i-E). An ayi is essentially a maid who does tasks like cleaning and laundry. Her most valuable contribution is usually taking care of the details, like paying the phone bill or getting something fixed - tasks which are near impossible to do unless you speak Chinese. So you could say an ayi is an indispensable part of life in China.

My ayi came to my apartment today for the first time. I wasn't sure what to expect since I have never had a maid before. When I walked in I almost turned around - I couldn't believe it was the same place. It was immaculate. She not only had mopped the wood floor, but she had done all the laundry and I'm pretty sure she ironed every piece of clothing I own - even my socks and undies.

In the process of cleaning she came upon a yellow towel that she must of thought would be handy for drying dishes. In her mind - why else would anyone else own a yellow towel? Towels are for cleaning - and so that is what she did with it. I found my damp and slightly dirty towel neatly hanging in the kitchen. Either she doesn't understand sacred American football traditions...or she is a Browns fan.

Chinese Traditions

2008-08-17T03:10:00.000-07:00

Living among the Chinese means being prepared for the unexpected. Last night around 11:30 pm, myself and several other teachers at the school where I'll be working were sitting around playing cards. We were in a high rise on the 11th floor, and this high rise is part of a larger complex of about 20 high rises that surround a central courtyard replete with a small fishing pond, several streams and three bridges. I've been told the layout is very feng shui appropriate. The buildings are arranged around this center courtyard in pairs, with roads leading out like spokes from a wheel all sides of the courtyard and between two highrises. So the distance between two highrises is the width of one of these roads, probably no more than 25 feet. All of a sudden, last night, there was a HUGE boom outside the room we were in, so we all rushed outside to the balcony. There were several people on the road below us lighting off fireworks. Not small fireworks, like Roman candles, but large projectile fireworks that light up in colors, think 4th of July with a little less oomph. They proceeded to let these fireworks off for five minutes, each one exploding between the buildings, most at our eye level. My friend Garrett even got hit with the sparks from one of these explosions. We were stunned - and couldn't imagine something like this happening in America without the fire department, police squad and SWAT team showing up. When it was over - other Chinese who had gathered on the surrounding balconies began clapping, and then everyone sauntered back into their apartments to continue whatever it was they were doing. Their nonchalance to the whole episode stunned us.
After our ears had stopped ringing, another member of the group who had spent some time in China explained to us the purpose of the pyrotechnics. It turns out when a Chinese family moves into a new house, they let fireworks off either late at night or early in the morning(can't wait for that one!) to ward off any evil spirits that may be dwelling in the house. I don't know if the contempory Chinese still actually believe that spirits are in their apartment, but the tradition lives on nonetheless.

Olympics Part #3 - The Games

2008-08-16T19:18:00.000-07:00

On Sunday August 10th - Caroline, her friend Katie and I had a chance to go to two events in Beijing. One was women's gymnastics and the other was men's basketball. I have always been impressed by gymnasts - they do things that to me seem impossible. Seeing them live gave me a new appreciation for how difficult it really is. The balance beam is only four inches across - yet they can do flips and jumps and land on it every time. I don't know how...

Basketball was amazing - we had seats 5 rows back from the floor and got to see two great games - Spain vs. Greece and Lithuania vs. Argentina. In the Lithuania vs. Argentina game - we got to see a last second game winning shot - which was punctuated by the Lithuania cheering section going absolutely bonkers - I mean bezerk. Quite a day!