In China if you are a coffee drinker you are almost exclusively limited to instant coffee. As a coffee lover this caused as much frustration and peturbance to me as not having good wine or salad dressing might to someone else. And after seven months I had given up on any relief from my lack thereof, and had instead resigned myself to enjoying the "finer" kinds of instant crappy coffee they offer in this country of tea drinkers.
Vietnam on the other hand is filled with coffee. And not just any coffee but GOOD coffee, with every street vending stall selling filtered coffee and a small place to sit on their modest bit of sidewalk. And if thats not enough for you they might even have fresh baguettes and cheap wine, all courtesy of an age old time when French men and women roamed the streets looking for a place to hide from the brutal sun and enjoy a bit of caffeine and rest. Apparently it stook.
Hanoi was my first experience in another Asian country's capital. It was exciting to compare and contrast all the differences in architecture, living style and etiquette. The most common architecture was still heavily French influenced, meaning buildings with a narrow front and long in the back, piled closely next to each other, with porches on each floor and many roof terraces to gaze out upon the city. The living styles were slightly clausterphobic for the average Vietnamese household. Between the aging French buildings were long narrow alleys connecting countless entrances to inumerable homes sheltering large Vietnamese families. I was at one point squeezed so tightly in attempting to escape an alley that my stomache brushed both walls and my head was forced sharply to the right.
The etiquette was probably amongst the largest differences. No spitting on the ground here, nor can you expect to be badgered and followed in a shop until you buy a product. After finishing a Vietnamese meal it is also not polite to yell for a waiter to give you the check, as I discovered when many vehement looks were turned on me in a restaurant. I caught myself actually feeling incredulous that the Vietnamese would stare, and then realized I was picking and choosing some of the less desirable Chinese habits for my own benefit.
In Hanoi we visited all the major sites: Ho Chi Minh's mauseleum, a history museum, the Lenin statue and several well known restaurants. I had a particular interest in seeing Ho Chi Minh as I had never seen Mao's body in China. We entered upon a dimly lit room filled with roses, a dead body and eight well armed guards intent on keeping us moving, I was surprised to see Ho a bit yellow but otherwise in pretty good shape. I looked around the room that day also interested in the reaction of the Vietnamese. Did they agree with this preservation? Ho certainly hadn't agreed to it, and what was the point, really? It felt like I was oberving a religious relic. All it was missing was a peddler outside yelling, "five dong to come inside! Pray here for your soul, don't forget your savior!" But thats just me. The Vietnamese seemed to love it.
We saw many things in Hanoi, and I truly enjoyed all of it. There was just one thing missing: the sun, and this upset me. I'm not the kind of guy who has to see the sun in order to be happy, nor do I shrug my shoulders and avoid outdoor activities at the sight of a raindrop, but it had been a while since I saw a nice day. Yibin is nice and all, but if you like sunny weather you'd better be there on the right couple days of the year. So my expectations kept rising as we headed south- first to Hue, then Hoi An, Nha Trang and lastly Ho Chi Minh city (Saigon).
Monday, February 21, 2011
The Citadel (Our Journey Part 3: The North)
Hue was the rainiest of all. Fortunately it was visually stunning. The former imperial city of the Nguyen Dynasty, which ruled, theoretically, from 1802 to 1945, consists of a citadel resembling something out of an exotic fairy tale. Several motes surround its inner and outer walls which stretched about 10 kilometers around the city. Though the walls have been rebuilt several times-due to natural disasters and the destructions of war-it still retains an extremely ancient visage. The wet climate also added a mystical element, with foggy mists swirling around the entirety of the citadel, concealing some of its nooks and corners as if with secrets. Vines adorn the twenty foot high walls and behind them lay ancient temples or shrines, visible only by wandering down the right alley or stone gated archway.
In the regular city we found a two story restaurant to rest our feet. The owner had been recognized by the international media for his local cuisine and a special bottle opener he had invented made of wood. You wouldn't know he had been on American food networks from appearances (or price), but the food was exceptional and on our return visit he demonstrated his acumen for entertaining foreign guests. Using several homemade wooden bottle opening devices, about a foot long and an inch across with a nail protruding from one end, he karate chopped 6 bottles open at the same time! We videotaped it, and he gave us each a stick as a souvenir.
In the regular city we found a two story restaurant to rest our feet. The owner had been recognized by the international media for his local cuisine and a special bottle opener he had invented made of wood. You wouldn't know he had been on American food networks from appearances (or price), but the food was exceptional and on our return visit he demonstrated his acumen for entertaining foreign guests. Using several homemade wooden bottle opening devices, about a foot long and an inch across with a nail protruding from one end, he karate chopped 6 bottles open at the same time! We videotaped it, and he gave us each a stick as a souvenir.
Green Lanterns (Our Journey Part 4: The South)
After leaving behind the rainy city of Hue we headed to Hoi An, a quiet but touristy city along the Bon river. The city is hard not to like with its colorful lanterns overhanging pedestrian streets. Cars are not allowed along the river so street performances, biking and casual walks are all enjoyable atop the cobblestone streets. It was a welcome respite from the heavy traffic of most other Vietnamese cities.
Our hotel in Hoi An was also worth mentioning. We had a balcony on the top floor. Between the four of us it was not overly expensive, and we had done a good job of preserving our money supply in hostels thus far. On the first floor you could rent bikes for free, there was a small pool and a backyard where breakfast was served with coffee (yay!). Behind the pool stood a large cabinet full of English books, all available to borrow. I grabbed a copy of Slaughterhouse Five, by one of my favorite authors, after I had completed an enjoyable expansion on Vietnam by Jonathan Neale-A Peoples History of the Vietnam War- which I highly recommend.
Books were another thing I had the pleasure of seeing on many street corners along the way through Vietnam. Though many were copied from their original form, it was incredibly easy to come across a good book (unlike China, ah hem), and I was grateful to bring quite a few back home with me.
On our first day we grabbed our bikes (and helmets of course : ) ), and took off along the streets of Hoi An. We dodged as much of the touristy areas as we could, instead finding riverside villages selling coffee behind walls of bamboo. Incidentally the villagers did not seem very enthusiastic about us discovering them, and often wouldn't budge on their prices despite their remote location. Aside from grumbling shopkeepers we kept ourselves pointed in directions off the beaten track and found many interesting sites. The first thing we came across were rice paddies, lots of them, as well as more baguette sandwich sellers, friendly villagers, hidden lovers (too many, maybe), explosive fireworks, ancient temples, decrepit graveyards, historic relics and so on, all in a short period of time. Afterwards we returned to the hotel to grab one of the local beers and a rare western meal. It was one of the more enjoyable days we had.
We went shopping too, if only to see what kind of trinkets they were selling. I bought three colored lanterns- one green, then blue and puple since only buying my favorite color would not look as nice on my porch. Together the lanterns now shine out from my apartment balcony just as they had along the streets of Hoi An, quite nicely. That was it. We did some shopping, briefly, got some rest and personal perspective or whatever, and got out of there.
Our hotel in Hoi An was also worth mentioning. We had a balcony on the top floor. Between the four of us it was not overly expensive, and we had done a good job of preserving our money supply in hostels thus far. On the first floor you could rent bikes for free, there was a small pool and a backyard where breakfast was served with coffee (yay!). Behind the pool stood a large cabinet full of English books, all available to borrow. I grabbed a copy of Slaughterhouse Five, by one of my favorite authors, after I had completed an enjoyable expansion on Vietnam by Jonathan Neale-A Peoples History of the Vietnam War- which I highly recommend.
Books were another thing I had the pleasure of seeing on many street corners along the way through Vietnam. Though many were copied from their original form, it was incredibly easy to come across a good book (unlike China, ah hem), and I was grateful to bring quite a few back home with me.
On our first day we grabbed our bikes (and helmets of course : ) ), and took off along the streets of Hoi An. We dodged as much of the touristy areas as we could, instead finding riverside villages selling coffee behind walls of bamboo. Incidentally the villagers did not seem very enthusiastic about us discovering them, and often wouldn't budge on their prices despite their remote location. Aside from grumbling shopkeepers we kept ourselves pointed in directions off the beaten track and found many interesting sites. The first thing we came across were rice paddies, lots of them, as well as more baguette sandwich sellers, friendly villagers, hidden lovers (too many, maybe), explosive fireworks, ancient temples, decrepit graveyards, historic relics and so on, all in a short period of time. Afterwards we returned to the hotel to grab one of the local beers and a rare western meal. It was one of the more enjoyable days we had.
We went shopping too, if only to see what kind of trinkets they were selling. I bought three colored lanterns- one green, then blue and puple since only buying my favorite color would not look as nice on my porch. Together the lanterns now shine out from my apartment balcony just as they had along the streets of Hoi An, quite nicely. That was it. We did some shopping, briefly, got some rest and personal perspective or whatever, and got out of there.
Ho Chi Minh City, Last Stop (Our Journey Part 5: The South)
Ho Chi Minh City, or Saigon, was warm, tropical and sunny. I was ecstatic that I might actually return with a limited tan, proving that I had in fact actually been at an longitute equal with the Carribean. And yes I can tan, though it requires a very delicate balance of timing, any miscalculation verging on complete self-immolation. I had packed SPF 100 just in case I had to walk an extra few blocks down the street under the hot sun.
Down the street from our hostel was a flower market, beyond that was a bazaar selling anything you can imagine, for a bargained upon price. We chose to head in this direction on our first day. The flowers were prepared for Tet, the Vietnamese new years, which was now in full swing. We found an entire park filled with various flowers for sale. I was not nearly as familiar with the variety as my friends Katie Agren and Richie, who knew something about horticulture. I noticed dragon fruit plants and felt proud of myself, but just about anything that grows in the hot temperatures of that area could be found that day.
The flowers were sold in bulk to either families or business owners to celebrate Vietnams largest and most important holiday of the year. We had anticipated the hustle and bustle of the holidays as it was similarly occuring in China. The streets were full of jubilant passerbys, street vendors and taxi drivers. Katie D. and I attempted to use their good humor as a way to get cheaper prices at the bazaar where we soon arrived.
When I said the bazaar had everything I meant it. The entire market was located within a very large building, with walls made only of the products any given merchant was selling. There was food, clothing, perfume, bags, hats, souvenirs, trinkets and all kinds of random things you can only find in Vietnam. I had been looking for a few request items for my sister Rose. They were easily found along with some smaller presents for my Chinese friends. Katie D. and I tried to work together for the right bargaining technique. It was surprisingly difficult. At various points Richie and I had to let the girls do the bargaining altogether, since as all the merchants were only recently post-adolescent girls they kept getting personally offended by our aggressive bargaining (meaning we were stubborn). One girl actually crossed her arms and ignored us altogether, her back facing away from us. This caused a great deal of laughing on our part, rather more than it should have. She was trying to be cute and ostensibly offended by our requested price. Our laughing did not help, she began to give us angry looks and we were left with no option but to walk away. The girls were much more adept at getting sympathy or a smile, and often brought the prices down below half the original price, which is what we were going for.
We left the bazaar with most of the things we had hoped to pick up along the way. I grabbed two bags of real coffee, a few presents and a hat. None of us were overly interested in buying souvenirs, though we picked up a few to bring back for friends.
Saigon's War Museum was the other major stop we made in Saigon. It is filled with pictures, videos and evidence of the ravages caused by war. Two exhibitions were exclusively devoted to those affected by Agent Orange, with horribly mutated bodies of immediate or second generation victims. It was difficult to watch, but I couldn't avert my eyes. My trip to the museum coincided with my completion of Slaughterhouse Five, turning out to be excellent timing, his dark humor rang through my head each time I passed another picture.
Outside the museum and to the right was a model of the Tiger Cages, formerly used as prisons by the South Vietnamese and French, depending on the time period. They existed off the southern coast of Vietnam, on an island called Con Son. I had heard about them through my father, who had helped uncover them before a Congressional delegation sent by Nixon arrived in 1970. Soon after the delegation left pictures of the torture and mutilation were featured in Life magazine.
The model cages allowed you to walk atop the grates just as the prison guards had once done. I pictured the guards walking above there victims, occasionally stopping long enough to spit on their prisoners. I didn't do any spitting but I could imagine what kind of facial expression might have been looking back up at me, it made me cringe.
Our stop in Ho Chi Minh city had also been our last chance to grab some great western food for a cheap price. On our last night we headed to a small Vietnamese restaurant owned by an older couple and her daughter. She served us the local beer and terrific food. After getting to know her a bit and pretending to understand what she was saying (by then we had mastered several of the most essential getting around words in Vietnam- Hello, how are you, numbers 1-1 million, where is the bathroom, great!, etc.), we got in a bit of a quarrel. Richie had made the mistake of telling the elderly matron that he was married to Katie A. But when it arose that they did not have wedding rings, Richie made a feable but fullhearted attempt to explain that the two did not quite believe in the traditional custom of marriage as an institution. This was beyond them and therefore proved only to cause them shock and disbelief. The matron spent the rest of the night berating Richie, mostly in fun but also slightly in shock, for as she said, being out having beers when he should be saving that money for a wedding ring. It was entertaining as hell and we all had a good laugh.
The next day we all hitched a cab to the airport. We were sad, but we had a two week training course coming up back in China and we would see eachother again soon. I left Vietnam completely satisfied and wishing only that I had had more time to spend in the tropical sun of Ho Chi Minh city.
Down the street from our hostel was a flower market, beyond that was a bazaar selling anything you can imagine, for a bargained upon price. We chose to head in this direction on our first day. The flowers were prepared for Tet, the Vietnamese new years, which was now in full swing. We found an entire park filled with various flowers for sale. I was not nearly as familiar with the variety as my friends Katie Agren and Richie, who knew something about horticulture. I noticed dragon fruit plants and felt proud of myself, but just about anything that grows in the hot temperatures of that area could be found that day.
The flowers were sold in bulk to either families or business owners to celebrate Vietnams largest and most important holiday of the year. We had anticipated the hustle and bustle of the holidays as it was similarly occuring in China. The streets were full of jubilant passerbys, street vendors and taxi drivers. Katie D. and I attempted to use their good humor as a way to get cheaper prices at the bazaar where we soon arrived.
When I said the bazaar had everything I meant it. The entire market was located within a very large building, with walls made only of the products any given merchant was selling. There was food, clothing, perfume, bags, hats, souvenirs, trinkets and all kinds of random things you can only find in Vietnam. I had been looking for a few request items for my sister Rose. They were easily found along with some smaller presents for my Chinese friends. Katie D. and I tried to work together for the right bargaining technique. It was surprisingly difficult. At various points Richie and I had to let the girls do the bargaining altogether, since as all the merchants were only recently post-adolescent girls they kept getting personally offended by our aggressive bargaining (meaning we were stubborn). One girl actually crossed her arms and ignored us altogether, her back facing away from us. This caused a great deal of laughing on our part, rather more than it should have. She was trying to be cute and ostensibly offended by our requested price. Our laughing did not help, she began to give us angry looks and we were left with no option but to walk away. The girls were much more adept at getting sympathy or a smile, and often brought the prices down below half the original price, which is what we were going for.
We left the bazaar with most of the things we had hoped to pick up along the way. I grabbed two bags of real coffee, a few presents and a hat. None of us were overly interested in buying souvenirs, though we picked up a few to bring back for friends.
Saigon's War Museum was the other major stop we made in Saigon. It is filled with pictures, videos and evidence of the ravages caused by war. Two exhibitions were exclusively devoted to those affected by Agent Orange, with horribly mutated bodies of immediate or second generation victims. It was difficult to watch, but I couldn't avert my eyes. My trip to the museum coincided with my completion of Slaughterhouse Five, turning out to be excellent timing, his dark humor rang through my head each time I passed another picture.
Outside the museum and to the right was a model of the Tiger Cages, formerly used as prisons by the South Vietnamese and French, depending on the time period. They existed off the southern coast of Vietnam, on an island called Con Son. I had heard about them through my father, who had helped uncover them before a Congressional delegation sent by Nixon arrived in 1970. Soon after the delegation left pictures of the torture and mutilation were featured in Life magazine.
The model cages allowed you to walk atop the grates just as the prison guards had once done. I pictured the guards walking above there victims, occasionally stopping long enough to spit on their prisoners. I didn't do any spitting but I could imagine what kind of facial expression might have been looking back up at me, it made me cringe.
Our stop in Ho Chi Minh city had also been our last chance to grab some great western food for a cheap price. On our last night we headed to a small Vietnamese restaurant owned by an older couple and her daughter. She served us the local beer and terrific food. After getting to know her a bit and pretending to understand what she was saying (by then we had mastered several of the most essential getting around words in Vietnam- Hello, how are you, numbers 1-1 million, where is the bathroom, great!, etc.), we got in a bit of a quarrel. Richie had made the mistake of telling the elderly matron that he was married to Katie A. But when it arose that they did not have wedding rings, Richie made a feable but fullhearted attempt to explain that the two did not quite believe in the traditional custom of marriage as an institution. This was beyond them and therefore proved only to cause them shock and disbelief. The matron spent the rest of the night berating Richie, mostly in fun but also slightly in shock, for as she said, being out having beers when he should be saving that money for a wedding ring. It was entertaining as hell and we all had a good laugh.
The next day we all hitched a cab to the airport. We were sad, but we had a two week training course coming up back in China and we would see eachother again soon. I left Vietnam completely satisfied and wishing only that I had had more time to spend in the tropical sun of Ho Chi Minh city.
Back in China (Our Journey Part 6)
The night I arrived back in Chengdu the New Years festivities were off the charts- fireworks were visible in any direction, from sparklers to the kind your used to seeing miles away on the Fourth of July. Theres a reason they're normally seen from far away, but most Chinese don't know it. They could have been set off by anyone able to get there hands on them-children, high schoolers, middle aged men or hunched and fragile old women.
The airport taxi cab driver took one look at us and, obviously conscious of the fact that he was missing the most important holiday of the year, took off at a thousand miles an hour to get us to our destination. It felt like racing down a nascar track during the opening ceremony of the olympic games. The sky was filled with the hues of 600 different colored fireworks hurriedly set off by a mulitude of Chengdu-ers for miles around. The excitement in the city was palpable. Right then, in homes all over China, families sat together eating a meal in a house. Many of them had broken there backs to return to their family home, sometimes traveling hundreds or thousands of miles. Imagine, 2 billion people deciding they want to return home for the holidays, it is a train attendants nightmare.
Katie D. and I naturally decided to stay away from traveling after that taxi ride, we needed time to rest. The past two weeks had been a non-stop culture ride and it was time to get back to our somewhat normal lives in China.
The airport taxi cab driver took one look at us and, obviously conscious of the fact that he was missing the most important holiday of the year, took off at a thousand miles an hour to get us to our destination. It felt like racing down a nascar track during the opening ceremony of the olympic games. The sky was filled with the hues of 600 different colored fireworks hurriedly set off by a mulitude of Chengdu-ers for miles around. The excitement in the city was palpable. Right then, in homes all over China, families sat together eating a meal in a house. Many of them had broken there backs to return to their family home, sometimes traveling hundreds or thousands of miles. Imagine, 2 billion people deciding they want to return home for the holidays, it is a train attendants nightmare.
Katie D. and I naturally decided to stay away from traveling after that taxi ride, we needed time to rest. The past two weeks had been a non-stop culture ride and it was time to get back to our somewhat normal lives in China.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Winter Fun
Our final weeks in the semester have arrived with astonishing speed. Soon many of us will be doing traveling in-country or visiting other countries nearby. My friends and I have toyed with the idea of going to Vietnam for the holiday season and perhaps catching some sites in China along the way.
In my classes I have begun gearing up the students for our final, giving them review lessons and testing their comprehension. For the greater part of the semester I had been giving them a different lesson every week, each based on a subject I believed they needed to improve. This week I had chosen stereotypes and we had gone over many different aspects of the meaning and words used to describe how stereotypes arise. In many instances I challenged students to provide examples from their daily life. Of course few of them had any experience with race but ethnic and gender discrimination was not by any means unknown to them. I had a few interesting responses. One of my students mentioned that she was tired of people telling her she was supposed to be a housewife, a common role for women in modern China that is slowly fading away. Another recounted frustrations with parents who would not trust her with making responsible decisions. In not just one class I was caught off guard by ranting students angered that vampires are treated so unfairly by humans. Why didn't people understand that under that hard shell exterior some vampires were actually nice? It was a reminder to me that my students had an unhealthy obsession with shows like vampire diaries, and it was useless to do anything but nod your head and thank them for trying.
As I have mentioned before many of my students are females preparing to be high school English teachers. Though many if not most wish to pursue work in a big business or to travel abroad for foreign teaching, few of them are willing to take the risks involved with finding a private sector job. For this reason many students have revealed to me feelings of being trapped or driven into a narrowly defined life. In my talks regarding stereotypes I often encountered student feelings of helplessness, and our discussions revolved around collectivism versus individual independence. My attention was peaked several times when students responded to a few of my simple words of comfort, such as every one has their own experiences and their own individual problems, so it is normal to feel alone and confused at times even if your friends are not. I caught several students looking at me blankly, either because they didn't understand my words or the meaning behind them, but I was happy to see that several were deeply interested in the discussion.
This past weekend I spent some time in Chongqing, one of China's directly controled municipalities (直辖市）, that lies in central China. The city is large, very large, and for that reason (among others) it is also perhaps one of the most polluted. But the city offers many amazing sites including an opera house and a city center packed with enormous skyscrapers and western restaurants.
I was there visiting my friends Richie and Katie, a young married couple living together as PC volunteers. Due to the size of the city it was host to quite a few Peace Corps friends, all serving in and around the city. We spent the days touring around the center city and observing areas under construction, one of which was only in its initial stages. A trench a mile wide and several thousand feet deep was being dug by individual construction workers, each resting on a drill that was loosening up the earth. I was astounded at the size of it and the mishmash of workers making seemingly miniscule attempts to dig such a massive hole. But as with many of the most miraculous works in China, construction feats are often conducted with blinding speed and an army of workers.
At night we visited other volunteers. Our activities are usually surreal, with Chinese friends and faculty gathering with American volunteers for beer pong or drinking competitions. In our defense we do not have these gatherings often so we do not feel ashamed in mixing a bit of American alcoholism and traditional games-beer pong of course being one of them. And our Chinese friends were more than willing to join in. Other activities usually include clumsy dancing to songs we used to hate in the states and random drunken tests of strength that end in someone getting hurt. I'm usually disappointed if I dont get at least one bruise from the antics, and chastise myself by trying much harder to "enjoy" myself the next time.
This last week my students will conduct their finals in a play. My Christmas plans are likely to be a return to Chongqing, where I can celebrate with several of my friends and enjoy some semblence of a Christmas here in China. I have high expectations as many of my closest Peace Corps friends will be there with me.
I hope that this Christmas season is filled with happiness for all of you back home. I wish I could be there with you but alas I am not able to return from this side of the world. Please wish everyone a merry Christmas for me!
Happy Holidays!
祝你圣诞节快乐！
In my classes I have begun gearing up the students for our final, giving them review lessons and testing their comprehension. For the greater part of the semester I had been giving them a different lesson every week, each based on a subject I believed they needed to improve. This week I had chosen stereotypes and we had gone over many different aspects of the meaning and words used to describe how stereotypes arise. In many instances I challenged students to provide examples from their daily life. Of course few of them had any experience with race but ethnic and gender discrimination was not by any means unknown to them. I had a few interesting responses. One of my students mentioned that she was tired of people telling her she was supposed to be a housewife, a common role for women in modern China that is slowly fading away. Another recounted frustrations with parents who would not trust her with making responsible decisions. In not just one class I was caught off guard by ranting students angered that vampires are treated so unfairly by humans. Why didn't people understand that under that hard shell exterior some vampires were actually nice? It was a reminder to me that my students had an unhealthy obsession with shows like vampire diaries, and it was useless to do anything but nod your head and thank them for trying.
As I have mentioned before many of my students are females preparing to be high school English teachers. Though many if not most wish to pursue work in a big business or to travel abroad for foreign teaching, few of them are willing to take the risks involved with finding a private sector job. For this reason many students have revealed to me feelings of being trapped or driven into a narrowly defined life. In my talks regarding stereotypes I often encountered student feelings of helplessness, and our discussions revolved around collectivism versus individual independence. My attention was peaked several times when students responded to a few of my simple words of comfort, such as every one has their own experiences and their own individual problems, so it is normal to feel alone and confused at times even if your friends are not. I caught several students looking at me blankly, either because they didn't understand my words or the meaning behind them, but I was happy to see that several were deeply interested in the discussion.
This past weekend I spent some time in Chongqing, one of China's directly controled municipalities (直辖市）, that lies in central China. The city is large, very large, and for that reason (among others) it is also perhaps one of the most polluted. But the city offers many amazing sites including an opera house and a city center packed with enormous skyscrapers and western restaurants.
I was there visiting my friends Richie and Katie, a young married couple living together as PC volunteers. Due to the size of the city it was host to quite a few Peace Corps friends, all serving in and around the city. We spent the days touring around the center city and observing areas under construction, one of which was only in its initial stages. A trench a mile wide and several thousand feet deep was being dug by individual construction workers, each resting on a drill that was loosening up the earth. I was astounded at the size of it and the mishmash of workers making seemingly miniscule attempts to dig such a massive hole. But as with many of the most miraculous works in China, construction feats are often conducted with blinding speed and an army of workers.
At night we visited other volunteers. Our activities are usually surreal, with Chinese friends and faculty gathering with American volunteers for beer pong or drinking competitions. In our defense we do not have these gatherings often so we do not feel ashamed in mixing a bit of American alcoholism and traditional games-beer pong of course being one of them. And our Chinese friends were more than willing to join in. Other activities usually include clumsy dancing to songs we used to hate in the states and random drunken tests of strength that end in someone getting hurt. I'm usually disappointed if I dont get at least one bruise from the antics, and chastise myself by trying much harder to "enjoy" myself the next time.
This last week my students will conduct their finals in a play. My Christmas plans are likely to be a return to Chongqing, where I can celebrate with several of my friends and enjoy some semblence of a Christmas here in China. I have high expectations as many of my closest Peace Corps friends will be there with me.
I hope that this Christmas season is filled with happiness for all of you back home. I wish I could be there with you but alas I am not able to return from this side of the world. Please wish everyone a merry Christmas for me!
Happy Holidays!
祝你圣诞节快乐！
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Turkey Substitute
Several weeks have passed since my last entry. In that time I have become much closer to my student friends and experienced quite a few Chinese traditions that I had not yet encountered.
One such occassion occured just before the Thanksgiving holiday. Our foreign affairs liaison had invited us to a dinner with several of the university department heads to celebrate our American holiday. We understood that it was unlikely that they would find a turkey so our expectations remained moderately low in terms of finding anything "American" looking on the menu. But as our experience had proven on many occassions, Chinese menu's can always find a surprising substitute.
The morning we left our caravan of roughly four freshly shined cars set off from the finely paved city center streets to the outskirts of the city, where dirt roads weaved and winded around vast farm fields. The crops were low, mostly consisting of chives, rice, barley, tea and sesame, and for miles our eyes could graze the countless fields. The passage of our cars did not stir many of the scattered farmers whose broad cone shaped straw hats still protected them from the intense south China sun. I couldn't quite make out their faces but I was sure it was heavy with responsibility and experience. The lives of farmers out here away from the city was in many ways still the same as it had always been. Why they hadn't looked up at our noisy passage was soon revealed to me as I sat back, turned my head and glanced out the other side- Yibin's new airport stretched for miles in the other direction. Local villagers were probably not surprised by much anymore.
We arrived at our destination a few minutes later. The restaurant was the largest in a small village. Though technically we were still in Yibin the villages surrounding it were far removed from the business of the city. The restaurant was one large building and a small courtyard for large gatherings. To come upon this place with your American eyes you might not immediately consider it a restaurant. In fact upon first glance I was convinced we had come upon a lumber yard, as several of the "walls" were in actuallity high piles of long wood logs. My intuition told me that the owner had mixed winter practicality with new private dining areas.
The aroma of cooked meat pervaded the area. In one corner a fire had been made and several spits had been laid across with an unidentified meat. Later I would discover that this was goat, the main course. By nightfall nearly thirty faculty members from all departments had gathered along three rows of benches, each with a nice big goat on a spit in the middle. The food was surprisingly tasty as it had been glazed over several time with herbs and spices.
Meanwhile, as is customary in China(and especially in Yibin), we drank Chinese wine and beer which flowed endlessly from a back room. There was a great deal of toasting and laughing, and many of the other faculty members were anxious to wish us a happy Thanksgiving. Though it was difficult to discern why so many had turned out for such an American holiday we were grateful for all of their warm wishes.
It was not always easy keeping the conversation interesting, especially when many of the teachers only spoke Chinese, so we played simple drinking games and laughed at eachothers mistakes. I attempted to tell a few irish jokes, "have you heard the one about the Irishman who thinks the hardware store is a bar?" I asked them in Chinese, and when I had finished they seemed thoroughly pleased, though they most likely knew little about the Irish, or a bar.
We left that night with our bellies full and more than a little tipsy. The faculty members wished us a happy Thanksgiving one more time and bid us farewell. It hadn't been turkey but the food had surpassed our expecations and more, with plenty of the holiday cheer to go with it. And though I would be enjoying real turkey with friends the following day, I couldn't help feeling like I had had a real pilgrim experience in Yibin.
One such occassion occured just before the Thanksgiving holiday. Our foreign affairs liaison had invited us to a dinner with several of the university department heads to celebrate our American holiday. We understood that it was unlikely that they would find a turkey so our expectations remained moderately low in terms of finding anything "American" looking on the menu. But as our experience had proven on many occassions, Chinese menu's can always find a surprising substitute.
The morning we left our caravan of roughly four freshly shined cars set off from the finely paved city center streets to the outskirts of the city, where dirt roads weaved and winded around vast farm fields. The crops were low, mostly consisting of chives, rice, barley, tea and sesame, and for miles our eyes could graze the countless fields. The passage of our cars did not stir many of the scattered farmers whose broad cone shaped straw hats still protected them from the intense south China sun. I couldn't quite make out their faces but I was sure it was heavy with responsibility and experience. The lives of farmers out here away from the city was in many ways still the same as it had always been. Why they hadn't looked up at our noisy passage was soon revealed to me as I sat back, turned my head and glanced out the other side- Yibin's new airport stretched for miles in the other direction. Local villagers were probably not surprised by much anymore.
We arrived at our destination a few minutes later. The restaurant was the largest in a small village. Though technically we were still in Yibin the villages surrounding it were far removed from the business of the city. The restaurant was one large building and a small courtyard for large gatherings. To come upon this place with your American eyes you might not immediately consider it a restaurant. In fact upon first glance I was convinced we had come upon a lumber yard, as several of the "walls" were in actuallity high piles of long wood logs. My intuition told me that the owner had mixed winter practicality with new private dining areas.
The aroma of cooked meat pervaded the area. In one corner a fire had been made and several spits had been laid across with an unidentified meat. Later I would discover that this was goat, the main course. By nightfall nearly thirty faculty members from all departments had gathered along three rows of benches, each with a nice big goat on a spit in the middle. The food was surprisingly tasty as it had been glazed over several time with herbs and spices.
Meanwhile, as is customary in China(and especially in Yibin), we drank Chinese wine and beer which flowed endlessly from a back room. There was a great deal of toasting and laughing, and many of the other faculty members were anxious to wish us a happy Thanksgiving. Though it was difficult to discern why so many had turned out for such an American holiday we were grateful for all of their warm wishes.
It was not always easy keeping the conversation interesting, especially when many of the teachers only spoke Chinese, so we played simple drinking games and laughed at eachothers mistakes. I attempted to tell a few irish jokes, "have you heard the one about the Irishman who thinks the hardware store is a bar?" I asked them in Chinese, and when I had finished they seemed thoroughly pleased, though they most likely knew little about the Irish, or a bar.
We left that night with our bellies full and more than a little tipsy. The faculty members wished us a happy Thanksgiving one more time and bid us farewell. It hadn't been turkey but the food had surpassed our expecations and more, with plenty of the holiday cheer to go with it. And though I would be enjoying real turkey with friends the following day, I couldn't help feeling like I had had a real pilgrim experience in Yibin.
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