Nothing reminds me more of how much I love America than the smell of hot dogs over an open campfire and the sound of fireworks exploding overhead. Alas this has not been my experience this year as it has in years past on the beaches of Enders Lake in Enders, Nebraska. I know that you may not think that western Nebraska is a hot spot for vacationing but let me tell you it certainly is hot. After hearing that not only the US embassy but also the Chamber of Commerce have Independence Day celebrations I decided that we should certainly go have a burger and a Budweiser at the very least. In doing research for these events I came up empty handed and forgot about it until I got "That's Beijing" the English language mag of Beijing. It said there was some party at some bar in some part of Beijing that I didn't know. Needless to say none of this worked out. Luckily, Brad our super awesome (sarcasm?) TA threw himself a going away party or dinner that night. It was to be at an all you can eat and drink Japanese restaurant. We all know that nothing goes better with raw fish than unlimited amounts of beer. Gary, Mike, and I head out to find the place after consulting my recently acquired copy of the aforementioned ex pat mag and figured it had to be this place called six root tree. Naturally nobody knew what the hell I was talking about when asking about it since the translation, however literal it may sounds, apparently isn't. Either that or it is a completely different place. After consulting my hostel girls and them drawing some characters on a business card we set off. Decided to take the subway to the district we thought it was in and then cab it from there since it was rush hour and cabs are expensive. Side note on Beijing subway - it's f'ing crowded. Made it to the stop I thought based on very in depth research and analysis of the situation and after attempting to talk to several guards, front desk people, and bus stop people nobody had heard of it. Got in a cab and since Brad had texted me the number we called and the cabbie made us get out. Other side of the road we get in one and he takes off after making the same phone call. 20 minutes and 30 kuai (no savings after all) later we arrive on the side of a street and he tells us we are there. We get out look around and don't know where we are. Asking a club bouncer by pointing doesn't help so again we dial the place and he points down the street. We start walking and finally after seeing ee, er, san i know we are close and we step in a few minutes later.
Upstairs we have our own room and most are already there. Eat a ton of raw fish, edamame, tempura and after a wait of about 20 minutes for the first beer they start flowing. We end up with rousing renditions of God Bless America, the Star Spangled Banner, and America the Beautiful among others. This was our celebration for our country and we raised a glass to Tsingtao in her name. Seems that we drank a bit much and after a run in with the squatter Mike had to head home leaving the cabbie something as well. I headed off to Angel where we had a VIP karaoke room and table near the dance floor reserved. Had some more good singing in there along with dance contests, which Chinese girls really love let me tell you, and ended with some more World Cup which came on at 3. At one point Chris, Erin, and I were out dancing to some crap rap and Eve comes over so I dance with her for a bit. This is the time that Haruna arrives after texting and calling me all night. This creates jealousy in her I later learn and must apologize. She's a cool girl and likes party and staying out till 5am regularly. When Brad (the Asian predator) found himself a target and was having a mad make out session at the table I realize I need to go check out the game. About half time I decide that I should go to class tomorrow (today) and that it's time to head home to my small, moldy, sickening loft in the dungeon. Made it to class at 9am, I should be your hero.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Crab Style
So you may be thinking that I have visited the Shaolin Temple and become a master of the crab style of Kung Fu. Think again since that isn't even one of the styles. Didn't you even listen to Wu Tang when you were younger. Just writing that makes me wonder what it means in Chinese. I will find out don't you worry. Well, crab style is what I call the stupid way in which these guys over here play ping pong. Not very cool if you ask me, but that is just because I have not won against it yet. Mao is one of the Chinese law students at Tsinghua chosen to sit in on our classes and be our counterparts to show us around and be our friends while we are here. They thought of everything huh? Well, Mao is mine and even though I didn't meet him till the third week I always say that it's better late than never. I asked him if there were public or university tables to play and i saw a gleam in his eye. We made plans to play the next day.
After class we decided to go eat lunch at the canteen on campus since it would be quick. Promptly at 1, the time that class gets out Mao calls me and asks if I am ready. I tell him we should meet at 2 because I have to go eat. Promptly at 2 Mao calls me and asks where I am. I hurry back and meet him to go the ping pong gymnasium. I talked Mike into coming too and it turns out that Sang comes as well. We play for around 2 hours but after the first 15 minutes Mike is out of his shirt. This place is in the basement and is just as you would imagine. There are 3 rows of 8 ping pong tables and although this time only about 8 of them get going we later get to experience the full force of the place. This experience is pretty good and after first being annihilated by Mao I finally come to within 4 with the last game ending 17-21. I beat Sang and Mike every time but that damn Mao would not go down. We vowed to do it again.
After Monday's pizza party where we all received participation certificates for coming on a study abroad trip several people wanted to go play. This was lead by Eve who, after hearing our stories of the now legendary Mao who took down the Westerners, couldn't wait to play him. Mike told me that she was a bad ass and her being from Shanghai made it at least believable. Now i don't know for sure if she ever won but she didn't make a big deal about it if she did. I walked over with Jackson (they all have American, or at least pronounceable names) he made quick work of me in 2 games. I traded up to play Rich who I beat and then Wyatt who I stuck with the rest of the time. He was as good, maybe better, than Mao or at least I tell myself that since I couldn't beat him. After about 3 games I had had enough and ripped the shirt off since all the other Americans had. This place was bumpin now with about 20 tables going at the same time. Some serious talent on this floor. Now for those who have seen me play you may say that I am not so good but for my once a year play I don't think I am so bad. I got within 1 of Wyatt several times but could never eek one out. I think the rest of the patrons were a bit freaked out by all the white kids in there but that's just the way it is some times. Anyway, the crab style is how they hold the paddle or racket as they call it. I think it's cheating even though it's allowed in the Olympics. This is a very difficult sport and Wyatt confessed that I am the best foreigner he has ever played. Yeah, that place was hot and wet.
After class we decided to go eat lunch at the canteen on campus since it would be quick. Promptly at 1, the time that class gets out Mao calls me and asks if I am ready. I tell him we should meet at 2 because I have to go eat. Promptly at 2 Mao calls me and asks where I am. I hurry back and meet him to go the ping pong gymnasium. I talked Mike into coming too and it turns out that Sang comes as well. We play for around 2 hours but after the first 15 minutes Mike is out of his shirt. This place is in the basement and is just as you would imagine. There are 3 rows of 8 ping pong tables and although this time only about 8 of them get going we later get to experience the full force of the place. This experience is pretty good and after first being annihilated by Mao I finally come to within 4 with the last game ending 17-21. I beat Sang and Mike every time but that damn Mao would not go down. We vowed to do it again.
After Monday's pizza party where we all received participation certificates for coming on a study abroad trip several people wanted to go play. This was lead by Eve who, after hearing our stories of the now legendary Mao who took down the Westerners, couldn't wait to play him. Mike told me that she was a bad ass and her being from Shanghai made it at least believable. Now i don't know for sure if she ever won but she didn't make a big deal about it if she did. I walked over with Jackson (they all have American, or at least pronounceable names) he made quick work of me in 2 games. I traded up to play Rich who I beat and then Wyatt who I stuck with the rest of the time. He was as good, maybe better, than Mao or at least I tell myself that since I couldn't beat him. After about 3 games I had had enough and ripped the shirt off since all the other Americans had. This place was bumpin now with about 20 tables going at the same time. Some serious talent on this floor. Now for those who have seen me play you may say that I am not so good but for my once a year play I don't think I am so bad. I got within 1 of Wyatt several times but could never eek one out. I think the rest of the patrons were a bit freaked out by all the white kids in there but that's just the way it is some times. Anyway, the crab style is how they hold the paddle or racket as they call it. I think it's cheating even though it's allowed in the Olympics. This is a very difficult sport and Wyatt confessed that I am the best foreigner he has ever played. Yeah, that place was hot and wet.
The Dungeon
Oh, where to start. I feel I always need to answer this question not only to you but to myself. The funny thing about that statement is that you really is myself. Wow, I just blew my own mind. At any rate I made it back from Xian. You may not have realized this seeing as how there have been very few (none) posts on this exact blog. Luckily those people who worry about me knew - side story: once upon a time I decided to take a trip to the land down under. At the conclusion of my trip and upon arrival back in the US I stayed with my friend Jon in LA. We were having a grand ol time going to the beach and the pool and eating American foods. I decided to call home the third day that I was there and to my surprise home was upset. Why, I asked myself. Come to find out that those who worry most about me nearly called the FBI to go find me in Fiji. Since that day I have learned that i need to keep these people well informed of my whereabouts. Since I don't know Chinese it is very difficult to obtain international phone access here. Luckily, I do know how to use a computer so I can write emails, and believe it or not the keyboards are in Roman characters so the Chinese have to write pinyin to make a character. Ha, America wins again. Side story over.
Before leaving for Xian I realized that I may be running low on monetary units so I did some research and poking around and found a cheap place to stay in my quaint little neighborhood of Wodaoku. This of course is in the Haidian district of Beijing just outside the third loop. I found a hostel with really crappy rooms for 75 kuai a night or a little less than $10. This isn't too bad since I was paying 168 before I left. I figured that since I was only to be back in Beijing a couple of weeks this would be no problem. Come to find out that the act of checking in was nearly too much for me. I didn't check out the room since I had seen one before and decided to go ahead and book it for only one night. The girls behind the counter at first seemed very serious and straight laced but after using an internet translator to try and translate Chinese to English for me they went nuts because we did. The translation ended up accusing us (Mike was trying to help me) of being traitors. We of course took offense since it was so close to the 4th of July and made a big ruckus. Good times ensued and I finally got my room. Go down to check it out and can barely fit in the door since it rams into the side of the bed when I try to push my way through. Let me try and give a layout of the room: size is about 5' x 8' (the ' means ft i think) this is enough room somehow to fit a lofted single bed, 2 chairs with a glass table between, and a desk set up with a phone and TV. These Chinese amaze me everyday with their feats of engineering. So I throw my stuff down and get out of there which would come to be a common theme over the next several days. I don't know if I mentioned the reason for the name of the post but, quite simply, this room is in the basement which is much like a dungeon. Note that it is not cool like the dungeon at Civy that Matt and I forced Nate and Grass into every day but it's more like a real dungeon where everyone is depressed because they have been in the depressing, moldy, wet, dark environment for way too long. I would tell you the name of the place so you could see for yourself but again I am little help. I can't leave off the bathrooms or bathroom rather since it is shared by 2 floors of rooms. There is one girl's and one boy's and they are filthy, nasty, dirty like the south. When we originally went in to check the place out Mike looked in the all squatter bathroom to find a big pile right there. No good either on the eyes or nose. Shower = disgusting and the sandals provided to wear in are covered with mold as well so i don't know if they are helping me not get fungus on my feet. I didn't though and I didn't get sick so I guess it was ok. I quickly learned the area and found a cafe nearby with nice sit down toilets to use until 1230 at night. Worth the price of a coffee for sure. I actually got into this practice a lot - spending as little time in the room as possible. It was depressing so I did more walking and sitting in cafes than I had up to that point. Routine was to go home around 1 in the morning or the time that i was about to fall asleep, jump in bed and sleep. Wake up to the alarm and get the hell out. What a life.
Another problem with this place is that it is illegal for foreigners to stay there. Minor, you may say and I would usually agree in that if they let you in who really cares. But, this time I needed a visa extension and to get such a thing in the land of red tape you need a temporary residence form from where you are staying and to get this form you have to go register at the police station in your district and to do this you have to know freaking CHINESE. Suck. Finally, after talking to the lovely Ms Yang at Tsinghua several times and her making several phone calls on my behalf I decided to move back to He Jia. I didn't want to pay those prices but it's better than paying 500 a day for each day over your visa or going to jail if it's 10 days. Moved back over and the language barrier was still there so I have Ms Yang call them and explain and it all works out. Rewind. I need this because I had gone to the visa bureau the week before and they didn't accept my application because of my place of residence. The manager at the hostel wouldn't let the girls at the front desk give me the paper because my Korean translator told me that they did it before and the black people made them get in trouble with the police so they don't do it anymore. The girls were on my side and told the manager I was American and not black (all, or most of the black people here are from Africa) and wouldn't get them in trouble. Didn't really get what was going on at the time but it all goes back to the fact that it is illegal for me to stay there. Luckily now I am back at the fabulous He Jia that gets better everyday and I share a room with Mike, finally made him give in, so it's not too much more. We now have a separate shower handle and a peep hole. What's next?
Before leaving for Xian I realized that I may be running low on monetary units so I did some research and poking around and found a cheap place to stay in my quaint little neighborhood of Wodaoku. This of course is in the Haidian district of Beijing just outside the third loop. I found a hostel with really crappy rooms for 75 kuai a night or a little less than $10. This isn't too bad since I was paying 168 before I left. I figured that since I was only to be back in Beijing a couple of weeks this would be no problem. Come to find out that the act of checking in was nearly too much for me. I didn't check out the room since I had seen one before and decided to go ahead and book it for only one night. The girls behind the counter at first seemed very serious and straight laced but after using an internet translator to try and translate Chinese to English for me they went nuts because we did. The translation ended up accusing us (Mike was trying to help me) of being traitors. We of course took offense since it was so close to the 4th of July and made a big ruckus. Good times ensued and I finally got my room. Go down to check it out and can barely fit in the door since it rams into the side of the bed when I try to push my way through. Let me try and give a layout of the room: size is about 5' x 8' (the ' means ft i think) this is enough room somehow to fit a lofted single bed, 2 chairs with a glass table between, and a desk set up with a phone and TV. These Chinese amaze me everyday with their feats of engineering. So I throw my stuff down and get out of there which would come to be a common theme over the next several days. I don't know if I mentioned the reason for the name of the post but, quite simply, this room is in the basement which is much like a dungeon. Note that it is not cool like the dungeon at Civy that Matt and I forced Nate and Grass into every day but it's more like a real dungeon where everyone is depressed because they have been in the depressing, moldy, wet, dark environment for way too long. I would tell you the name of the place so you could see for yourself but again I am little help. I can't leave off the bathrooms or bathroom rather since it is shared by 2 floors of rooms. There is one girl's and one boy's and they are filthy, nasty, dirty like the south. When we originally went in to check the place out Mike looked in the all squatter bathroom to find a big pile right there. No good either on the eyes or nose. Shower = disgusting and the sandals provided to wear in are covered with mold as well so i don't know if they are helping me not get fungus on my feet. I didn't though and I didn't get sick so I guess it was ok. I quickly learned the area and found a cafe nearby with nice sit down toilets to use until 1230 at night. Worth the price of a coffee for sure. I actually got into this practice a lot - spending as little time in the room as possible. It was depressing so I did more walking and sitting in cafes than I had up to that point. Routine was to go home around 1 in the morning or the time that i was about to fall asleep, jump in bed and sleep. Wake up to the alarm and get the hell out. What a life.
Another problem with this place is that it is illegal for foreigners to stay there. Minor, you may say and I would usually agree in that if they let you in who really cares. But, this time I needed a visa extension and to get such a thing in the land of red tape you need a temporary residence form from where you are staying and to get this form you have to go register at the police station in your district and to do this you have to know freaking CHINESE. Suck. Finally, after talking to the lovely Ms Yang at Tsinghua several times and her making several phone calls on my behalf I decided to move back to He Jia. I didn't want to pay those prices but it's better than paying 500 a day for each day over your visa or going to jail if it's 10 days. Moved back over and the language barrier was still there so I have Ms Yang call them and explain and it all works out. Rewind. I need this because I had gone to the visa bureau the week before and they didn't accept my application because of my place of residence. The manager at the hostel wouldn't let the girls at the front desk give me the paper because my Korean translator told me that they did it before and the black people made them get in trouble with the police so they don't do it anymore. The girls were on my side and told the manager I was American and not black (all, or most of the black people here are from Africa) and wouldn't get them in trouble. Didn't really get what was going on at the time but it all goes back to the fact that it is illegal for me to stay there. Luckily now I am back at the fabulous He Jia that gets better everyday and I share a room with Mike, finally made him give in, so it's not too much more. We now have a separate shower handle and a peep hole. What's next?
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