Just one fish in the big, wide sea

I think it's really important to feel alone every now and again.

Not that I'm necessarily alone here. I've got Anthony, and other friends, and the ability to make many more...but the two of us are very much a minority. It's something I only notice in small doses; sometimes people's gaze lingers just a bit longer than I'm used to, and every once in awhile little girls will stop me and ask "Qing ni yi qi pai zhao?" So I stop to pose with them and eager parents snap a few shots. Anthony and I laugh over it and continue on our way. 

We stick out. Sometimes painfully awkwardly.

I think it's a little different for Anthony. He's a boy, and therefore unversed in the seemingly universal laws of Girl Code. While he does get the occasional sideways look, especially from the older generation of Han Chinese, I usually get the brunt of the ogling.

My hair is unruly, curly, and reddish-brown where Chinese girls sport dark, pin-straight locks.
Buying a new pair of jeans was quite the event, seeing as the average woman here is...well...without butt...and I'm not.
While Chinese girls are utilizing bleach-like products and caking on layers of powder to look porcelain white, I am trying desperately to hang on to the last bit of color in my cheeks from summer.
My feet are large.

Women give me looks that say, quite plainly, "who do you think you are, looking like that?" Men's eyes say something...a little different. I think you get the gist. It's an aspect of this journey that I still haven't been able to get used to, and I'm not sure if I ever will. It's not that I'm particularly offended or anything...more that I just can't get comfortable with the feeling of being watched all the time. 

Overall, however, I have decided that this is a good thing. My mother told me, "now you know what it is like to be a minority." I think it's important to feel different, or separate, at least once in your life. Out of your element. It's helped me to be able to look at myself objectively and question my own thought process or motives every now and then. It's taught me that "normal" is not a one-size-fits-all adjective.

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Sinofication

I'm sorry it's been so long since my last post.
China takes so much more out of me than I ever could've anticipated. Part of it is the group of Taiwanese students that live in a row of rooms on the floor above mine...they like to stay up till at least three in the morning on any given night of the week and, apparently, use the time to practice singing, acrobatics, and rearranging furniture. No one in the building seems to be in charge of dealing with disturbances, so at this point I've resigned myself to picking a few nights a week to venture upstairs and ask them (sometimes politely, sometime firmly...it kind of depends on how many times I've had to do this that particular week) to quiet down past eleven thirty.

Anyway, on to the title of this post;

Sinofication isn't a word. But if it were, it would mean "to sinicize", which is a transitive verb meaning "to make Chinese in character or to change or modify by Chinese influence". This is one of the first aspects of Chinese culture I became aware of, way back when I first started studying Eastern religion and culture. China tends to adopt outside influences and subsequently tweak them here and there to fit in with "the Chinese way". It's happened with Communism, Christmas, multiple types of cuisine, and as I've learned quite well in my time here, Western fashion.

Chengdu dresses like the 80s and 90s had a very wealthy child. I'm going to leave it at that, because I want to take a few more pictures before I devote a post to it. 

But what I really wanted to talk about with regards to sinofication is...myself. I don't think it matters where you come from, whether you grow up in a city of the country side; we all have to adapt to our surroundings throughout our lives. I lived in Seattle for a little while a few years ago and had to adopt a "city walk" while there: squared shoulders, quick, deliberate pace, eyes straight forward. I figured that while living in Chengdu, which is a city that has a population to put Seattle to shame, I'd need to do pretty similar things. But, as with most other aspect about this wonderful country, I was wrong.

China requires fluidity. Flexibility, without too much compromising. You have to be ready to cut in line and push your way off the metro, but also to conform to the hundreds of carts and street bikes flowing both ways down the sidewalks. It's very Confucian, if you think about it. Doing just enough to guarantee safety/prosperity for yourself, but not too much  as to interrupt the balance of what's "normal". 

Some days, I do laundry and get to hang it up on the rooftop in the semi-sun. I really enjoy this. The small view of the campus from the top of my building is sort of beautiful (in a smog-ridden kind of way), I get to take my time clipping things up on the lines and think in peace, and it feels good to do my laundry in a more environmentally-friendly way. Other days, however, the workers who live in the building refuse to let me use the lines. They yell at me in Chinese, use "shooing" motions, and instead hang up their own clothing and bedsheets. There really isn't much I can do besides fashion an awkward clothesline in my dorm room and hang my stuff inside. It takes an extra day or so for things to dry...but the point is that, either way, the laundry gets done.

I've always been the sort of person to cling on to a schedule. I take the same routes to my classes everyday, regardless of their being another "more efficient" way. I need things to resemble some sort of day-in, day-out order. When something changes suddenly, I get distressed. But I'm finding this to gradually change. China is taking who I am and molding it to fit a little better with it's "way". I don't expect to be wholly cured of all my uptight tendencies...but at the moment, I'm liking this small-scale sinofication.

Sorry, no pictures today. But I just thought I'd give you a little update on my life:)
  
Zài jiàn!

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nǐ chī guò zǎocān le ma ?

Or, in simplified English: "have you eaten breakfast?"
My Mandarin professor asks me this every morning of class. She says it's a common greeting here, which is odd to me seeing as the Southwestern Chinese don't seem to be big on breakfast food...but, none-the-less, I decided this was an apt title for tonight's post. 

I want to talk about food.

You see, Anthony and I have been trying our best to assimilate this past week [which is my main excuse for not posting very much] and part of that is getting familiar with places to eat. Finding tasty, cheap, clean restaurants is especially important to us because our dorms are without kitchens [honestly though, I'm not sure what we'd cook anyway. Beef is largely unavailable, and the way the grocery store displays their chicken...parts...makes me wistfully remember my vegetarian days] and we cannot just live off peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches and instant ramen. Luckily, we're both relatively adventurous, and neither of us balk at the idea of going the extra few blocks for some quality meals. So, without further ado, I present to you:

-The Good-

This is what a typical dinner [for us] looks like at Green Heart Forest Barbecue.
Barbecue is usually referred to as shao cao in Mandarin. This place is excellent:
fried rices (my favorite so far is the minced pork) and tons of options in veggies
and meats cooked to perfection with popular Sichuan spices. Anthony and I can have
a comfortable meal here, including Tsingtao, for around 30-35 RMB. Not 30 RMB each, but all
together. That's about...$4-$5.50.

 The pictures above and to the right are, respectively, water dumplings and a typical Chinese chow mein. They are from a little outdoor restaurant that, by first impression, seems a little to "street" to be safe for a non-local. It's hidden in the back of a small partially covered food-alley [these are popular all over Chengdu and Beijing], and because we can't yet read the actual name, we refer to it as the shuǐjiǎo place. "Shuǐjiǎo" means "water dumpling". These are the dumplings that make people think "pot sticker" in the US, but are actually a dumpling...just not fried. This small, family-owned and run eatery sells them by six a plate at very, very low prices. They also have different kind of chow mein [I go with the regular, as shown in the picture] and soups...but seeing as the menu is entirely in Mandarin characters and none of the staff speaks English...I like to stick with the dumplings. They're tasty and perfect for a quick lunch. 

I really couldn't decided if this should go on the "Good" part of the list...
but seeing as the burger was delicious and they do have a reasonably priced
lunch special...this indulgence is from The Spot, which is a restaurant/bar owned
by a couple Israeli guys who also own a popular night club in town. The food
is expensive, but incredibly well-prepared, and the atmosphere is surprisingly
European. Anthony and I have decided to make this a "sometimes snack"...even
though the second time we stopped in, for appetizers and drinks, we got free food and drinksand incredible conversation with new friends from different parts of the world.
That night was absolutely one for the books.
Just not...this "book". 

 
I saved this one for last because it should really be under -The Best- section. But...since there can only be one "best", there really wasn't a point to making in a section...I digress; Rice Plus is hands-down my favorite restaurant we've been to this entire trip. I think Anthony would agree, too. This picture was from the first trip [we've been twice in less than a week]: Anthony- Myanmar style curry, myself-Indian style chicken curry. We received the traditional egg-flour soup with our lunches, which is always a nice pallet cleanser with spicy food, and the entire meal, including sodas, was about 35RMB. While my curry probably wouldn't stand up to the curry offered at my favorite Indian restaurant back in the states, this place won my heart by offering the heartiest meal for my money in a clean, comfortable atmosphere. Magazines in Chinese and English, along with what seems to be the entire One Piece manga collection [as well as a few very interesting books of collections of concept art] are stacked on a bookshelf, inviting you to read while waiting for your food, as well as while digesting afterwards. When we went back today, we shared a large plate of stewed hamburger [exactly what I'd hoped it would be] and a side of cold pasta salad with corn and cucumber slivers. There are several curry and stewed-meat options  on the menu, each perfectly paired with a generous portion of rice. The sides are potato salad, soups, pasta salad, something called "spicy jew ear" in translated English, and they offer milkshakes! Even though it's a tad bit far away, the prices, portions, and people are absolutely worth it...not to mention everything is delicious. Mmm...I'm already excited to go back!

-The Bad- 

I know, it's just coffee. But that's kind of the point. It's just coffee. Not great coffee. Not even especially good coffee...and absolutely not worth as much as I paid. The boys, Anthony and Bryce, got a good amount of some pretty tasty tea, but it was Lipton-based. This was at a large, very well-decorated coffee house called Good Wood Coffee. I got a little cookie with my latte, which was a nice touch, but really, China just doesn't seem to do coffee. As Bryce commented, we were really paying for the lux atmosphere that mostly just made us feel under-dressed. 

 Self-explanatory, from a popular food street in Beijing.

Yeah...those are scorpion and starfish. And will you look at that gloved hand ready to pluck some for a lucky customer? 
 

Drinks from the aforementioned Spot. We've made friends with one of the
bartenders, which has just as many downs as it does ups, which is why I've placed in
in this category.

I look like I'm enjoying myself, and I guess I pretty much was,
but unfortunately the food at The Bookworm are too pricy to be worth it for me.
The atmosphere is nice, however, and the library-esque shelves of books in
Chinese, English. and other languages are a nice touch. Because of the prices,
Anthony and I settled on two appetizers: spring rolls [fried a little too much, in my opinion]
and some roasted and seasoned potatoes. Tasty, but, like I said, not tasty enough for
the trek or the wallet. 

This just makes me feel a little ashamed.
McDonalds in China is kind of a big deal though...not too expensive,
and the quality is good, and they have regional items on the menu.
I just can't shake the feeling that it's cheating, though.

So this leaves us, of course, with:

-The Ugly-

You're probably wondering, "What could be worse than McDonalds, or fried scorpion?" Well, prepare yourself for the answer. Honestly, viewer discretion is advised for the following video. 

[Yeah mom, I know I'm talking and eating at the same time. I know it's unattractive. I know you're ashamed. But it was for the good of documentation.]

Now, who's hungry?

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Wo yao caiden.

The program that is responsible for sending me to China has turned into an email-avoiding nightmare, almost over night. Long story short: a handful of us were told the second day we got into Chengdu that our visas are incorrect, and we must apply and pay for a new permit, all within four days, or suffer the consequences. The study abroad company dropped the ball and is refusing to make amends, or even admit to being in the wrong. 

Despite this, life goes on. Really, in China, one has no choice but to move forward. Upward, onward, newer, bigger, faster, flashier...China is constantly bursting at the seams. Even as centuries-old foundation crumbles, buildings are added on to, made "more appealing" to the consumer nation. This is as visually enticing as it is cringe-worthy.

I may have mentioned this in my last post, but Chengdu has this fascinating way of mixing nature and urban-development that I just can't get over. Roots push sidewalk tiles into warped patterns; vines replace paint on the sides of impossibly tall apartment complexes...there is very little conflict of elements in this wonderful city. Perhaps this is an ode to the Buddhist/Taoist principles that remain at the fingertips of modern Chinese, or maybe it is simply a yielding of struggle against time. Because even the fast-paced and forward-reaching Chinese proprietors know that we must all respect what is older and wiser. 

Regardless, I think am getting used to this. 



Yesterday for dinner, Anthony and I set out in search of something spicy and flavorful...and plentiful. We stumbled across a barbecue place that seemed promising. It was full of locals, both young adults ready for a summer night out and business workers dressed surprisingly formally for the heat. [ I just can't seem to adjust to this thick layer of smog and warm wetness that covers the city every day. Give me a few more weeks.] We managed, somehow, to order delicious spicy pork, potatoes, peppers, and ham-fried rice. Dinner for the two of us, including the popular Tsingtao, was roughly $5 American.

  The waitress/owner[?] was pleased when we told her, in Chinese, how delicious the food was. I can really only imagine how frustrating it must be for some wait-staff when foreigners come into their restaurants. Usually, they make very little effort in trying to order in Chinese. Not that I need to sound so high-and-mighty here; I am far from competent. Usually, I just end up making a lot of hand gestures and using very short, basic sentences, such as "niurou" [beef] and "lai yige ba" [I'll have that].

But our meal was perfect. The beer [Tsingtao, usually, or Snow] was the perfect lightness to wash down some of the tongue-numbing spiciness that I'm really becoming fond of. 

Afterwards we walked around a bit, enjoying the way the shops light up and the streets stay dark as the night moves on. You see, in the parts of Chengdu we are familiar with, there are no streetlamps or even stoplights for cars. At first I registered this as stupid and unsafe. But now I've come to realize that the drivers are skilled [in a frightening way] and the lack of lights on the sidewalks makes all the stores, shops, bars, and tea houses that much more alluring. I have always loved the culture in a city, especially the nightlife. Each one is different. Chengdu is like the ocean waves on a PNW beach: at some points, the sounds and sights rush right up to you, begging you to jump in and get lost, while other places are simply ebbing away, bubbling slightly up to make you wonder if it's always this calm, or only while the wind has died down.

I exchanged "nihao" for "hello" with a few of these young boys, running around a plaza playing 'soldier'.

 

  

 

Tomorrow I'm supposed to find out my classes, meet with professors, and buy textbooks. Saturday is a free day, and then Sunday I get my schedule. Fall semester begins on Monday, bright and early. My usual pre-quarter anxiety is at least doubled at the moment, and will probably rise as the next few days go by. But a funny thing about anxiety disorders: chaos is like another day in my mind. So while many people are dealing with a new-found sense of panic as the first day draws near, I am used to the feeling. Panic is my middle name. 


Take that as you will, I'm choosing to see the upside for now.

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Ni Hao

China is stifling. 

The air, the heat, the noise, the smells, the crowds. 

And every day, every night, I drink it in. Together, the offensive and appealing parts of Beijing work to create an experience so unique, that I'm not quite sure I can describe it here. Suffice to say that there is no real way to prepare oneself for China. 

Nightlife. A local-favorite system of connected alleys selling all different
wares, as well as local delicacies [read: scorpion, octopus, silkworm...]

Our first three and a half days were spent in what I like to refer to as the "American Sheep Herd" in Beijing. The group is about 23 students from all over America. We did tourist-y things, like visit the Forbidden City and climb the Great Wall. Our tour guide, Sun Li, was phenomenal. She gave us a comprehensive, unbiased view of daily life in China, urging us to spend our evenings and nights navigating bus routes to visit districts and alleys. She even arranged for us to visit the home of a woman in a Hutong Alley. Hutong Alleys are traditional Chinese homes, built hundreds of years ago in such a way that many connected buildings surround small square court yards. Now, these buildings are split into multiple homes, usually one or two rooms with a kitchen, housing extended families. The woman was small, aging gracefully, and spoke in such a way that commanded the attention of even the small dog in the cramped room. Not angrily or particularly loud (in China, speaking loudly is the main way to get attention or prove that what you're saying is worthwhile)...but slow, direct. The house, in fact the entire courtyard, had belonged to her grandfather. He had worked as a skilled artist for the Emperor. The home then went to his children and finally her. She has remained unmarried and without children. This allows her to be more flexible in her personal life. Just before the Beijing Olympics, the government picked several traditional homes around Beijing to act as host homes for athletes and, presumably, high-paying Westerners. Those who had the cleanest homes and cooked the best were chosen, and this woman was one of them. Assisted by her two nieces she cooks meals for people, offering a lesson in traditional Chinese living (no bathroom or shower facilities indoors, and heating/air conditioning are out of the question) and a quick "how to" in dumpling making. This was my best meal in China, to date.

Well...except maybe the dinner I had my last night in Beijing. Energized by the city lights and our growing ability to do simple things with the Chinese language, a small group of us set out to find a restaurant serving Peking Duck. We got what we were searching for, and much more.

There are two lessons to be learned here:
1. Order lightly
2. Never eat the first duck that comes to the table.

Now it is Monday for me. August 27th, to be exact. Early evening. I am in Chengdu, Sichuan province, which was a two and a half hour plane trip from Beijing, yesterday. While Beijing was every bit as amazing as it sounds, I have to say that I believe I am much more suited to life in Chengdu. The air is cleaner. The people talk, walk, and just live more slowly. The incorporation of local vegetation is gorgeous.My campus, Sichuan University, takes up a large portion of the city. I have only just begun exploring the grounds. Tomorrow there is a tour and orientation...I'm looking forward to getting a little bit of English clarification on things university-related. 

On that note, Anthony and I were talking today, while walking back to campus after buying essentials and peeking into different stores, living in a country where you can't quite speak the language isn't nearly as scary as it sounds. For every difficult moment, there is a reward. Gratification is held in ordering a meal or getting help finding a certain product. And the locals seem willing (for the most part) to assist in understanding by doing things like speaking slowly and gesturing. It makes me even more excited to become more comfortable with Mandarin. 

Tonight is for relaxation, recuperation, and preparation.

Zaijian, for now<3

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Peace out, USA.

This past week or so has been...non-stop, to say the least.

Turning 21 mere days before making my first trip out of the country has been interesting. Of course, my friends and family made it an amazing experience [thank you, Nick, Kevin, Matt, Lesley, and Anthony for putting up with me:)]...but it was kind of a blur. Not a drunken blur, but a "okay this is great but I need to pack and run a million errands before leaving America" blur. That being said, I had amazing 21 runs [yep, 'runs'...I had two!] and was really happy to have the time to party with my friends and family for the last time for a few months. 

Watch out, E-Town...I will be back to terrorize you in the fullest.

Anyway...the important things:
I am packed, checked into my flights online, and currently waiting out my last night here in bed. It's kind of surreal, actually. Even as I type this I keep glancing around the room, wondering if I've forgotten anything. I'm itching to go weigh my checked bag and carry-on for the millionth time. I want to call Anthony and ask him if he's awake still, even though I already know the answer. Speaking of Anthony; tomorrow, at freaking 5am, will be the first time our parents meet. Uh...cool. 

 Do any of you find this as hilarious as I do? ...No? ... ... .....
I got it last week in my patented takeout hangover cure-kit [AKA give me my cheap Chinese food and we can still be friends, Safeway] and was kind of giddy over it for the next day or so. "Watching a movie"...ha. 



Signs that Zoey is having a real nervous breakdown:"Taco? Nah, I'll pass."
My hair is falling out in freaking clumps now.
2am "Lalalala let's clean the whole HOUSE!"
Buying q-tips, just in case, even though I really don't have a use for them in my daily life.
My eye is twitching. Twitching. I can't control it and I feel like a freak.

Okay...maybe I'm overreacting a tiny bit.

But, anyway, this is my last post state-side. The next time I write, I will be in China. No Facebook, Twitter, etc. I'll update this with pictures and adventure-tales as often as physically, emotionally, and mentally possible.

I love you all.

See you on the other side;)

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Weening Myself Off Coffee

We've all been trying to make it through these final weeks without going crazy. This isn't an easy thing to do. Each day brings a new "to-do" list and I'm always going to bed feeling like I missed something. And then there is the thought of packing. Packing. How do I even begin to pack?

And Anthony has been like:

And Alley isn't any help:

And, of course, the weather here is all:

So, really, how's a girl supposed to focus?!

On top of all this, I turn 21 in three days! So I also have to plan for those shenanigans.

I've been doing a lot of research about Chendgu (not making much language progress...) and the places around. We were given a bunch of information packets to read over prior to boarding the plane...and I wish I had a picture of mine to show you. It's highlighted and annotated and lovingly looked-over. I think I have it memorized. There is a mention of a break from classes at some point in October for a long enough time to consider a few days trip to a surrounding attraction. I'm really hoping to get to some functioning monasteries during that time. Also, Anthony's birthday is in October(!) so I'm hoping we can plan something special for him:)

Well, I have to get back to the Mountain Of Stuff To Take Care Of.

  Eleven days till departure!


Always,
Z

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