Education in China #1

This is going to be an exciting year. Last time I was in China, I taught at an American school, so my daily life from 8-5 was pretty much the same as it had always been. Not a bad thing, but not exactly a new experience. This time its different. I am teaching at Shenzhen Foreign Language School - the preeminent school in Shenzhen, and the only school in Shenzhen to offer US style AP classes. I currently have 2 classes - teaching AP Physics C - and have already made some observations about the differences between Chinese and US students. Today's post, however, revolves around an incident that occurred yesterday. I think it demonstrates a big difference between mindsets in both countries.
I was looking for metersticks and was sent to look for the in them PE teachers office. I wandered down to the office, and knocked on the door. It was 7:30 in the morning, early with no students around, and I wasn't sure if anyone would answer. The door finally creaked open, and a smiling, slightly paunchy man extended his hand Vanna White-esque to demonstrate that I could enter. Upon entering the dimly lit PE teachers office, an strange odor filled my nostrils. Cigarette smoke. I looked around the room and two teachers were in early, sitting at their desks with feet up, smoking away on cigarettes. They offered me one - but I politely declined.
I was shocked initially at the thought of PE teachers, really any teacher, smoking. I am not judgmental, or maybe I am when it comes to smoking, but I feel most non-smoking Americans would struggle if they knew their kids teacher smoked. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. China is still in its infancy. Twenty years ago booming cities like Shenzhen were mere rice paddies. The world was thrust into China's lap much faster than they could adjust. In the short span of twenty years, many Chinese own a car, an expensive computer, and yes, even cigarettes. It took American many years to finally realize smoking might not be the best habit, and I think that mindset has yet to catch up with the Chinese. They are enjoying the good life, proverbial feet up on the desk, watching the world come with hands out, and they are glad to oblige. And please, take a cigarette.

What floor am I on?

I'm back. I'm back in China. I'm back in the Blogosphere. After a rough year last year, I'm back in a lot of ways. And I am glad to be back.
So my new job takes me all the way to Shenzhen - which in the pantheon of Chinese cities is the least known of the so-called first tier cities (Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou being the other members of this exclusive socioeconomic club) It borders Hong Kong - and boasts the high GDP per capita of any Chinese city. And its clean. By China standards.

Last week I had to go apartment hunting after arriving in Shenzhen exhausted, excited but mostly jet-lagged. My Chinese had gotten rusty, but as I entered the real estate agents office and began explaining I was looking for an apartment to rent, I realized that most of what I had learned was still there. Sort of.

As we headed out I told the agent that I wanted to live in a Chinese community. In my previous stint in China, I lived within a housing compound that felt, looked and even smelled like America. This time, I told the agent, I was ready for the real deal. He smiled and said he knew the perfect place.

Upon arrival I was already excited, as the street the apartments were located was bustling with activity. Fish swimming in buckets at a wet market. Old men, shirtless, their bronze skin a reminder of years of toil, happily sitting around playing Mahjong regaling each other with stories. Little kids, their butts sticking out of their Chinese style kid pants, running around screaming in their nascent Chinese.

As I stared at the scene, it all felt so foreign, yet familiar. Comfort can be found in the strangest places, and standing on this street with China all around me, I felt comfort.

Before we went into the apartment complex, the agent turns to me with a serious glint in his eye.

Agent: "I want you to know something about the apartment."
Me: "OK"
Agent: "We have had trouble finding renters for this place, I just want you to know."
Me: "What's wrong with it?"
Agent: "Nothing is wrong with the apartment. Its in good shape."
Me: "What's wrong then?"
Agent: (looking sheepish): "Its on the 4th floor."
Me: "Oh....well, I'm American. I know the number 4 is extremely unlucky in China(it is pronounced the same as the word for death) but I don't think the bad luck will apply to me. As long as its not on the 13th floor, I should be OK."
(Agent and I exchange a look and share a nervous laugh.....)

(BTW: In a Chinese horror movie, this would have been the opening scene, followed by an hour and a half of my apartment and its trappings tormented and eventually ending me. )

I ended up taking it, and everything so far has been good. So far.

Zoom, zoom, zoom....

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....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Green Hat

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....

...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

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.

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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

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

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

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.