(Peking University - Beijing, China)
One evening, my roommate and I come home from dinner and the power goes out. This happens about once a week as the university thinks that everyone sleeps by midnight (or that all the students SHOULD go to sleep by midnight) and so it's OK to turn the electricity off and hope people don't notice.
We light candles and get ready for bed. I blow out all the candles and then go to bed. In the middle of the night, I wake up and look towards my roommate. To my utter and complete HORROR, her bed is ENGULFED in flames!
I am scared shitless, I yell out her name. The flames are so huge I can't even figure out where she is, or if she's even on the bed. Turns out, she's calmly batting the flames with her pillow case and saying that everything is OK, she's got everything under control.
"Under control" my ASS. I dump a basin of water (we keep a basin filled with water in our room to provide moisture because the heater makes our room really dry) on her bed, but not before asking her of course since i didn't want to drench her bed for nothing. There is a sizzling sound, the flames fizzle away. My heart is beating 240 rpm (faster than German techno, eh?) and it stays stuck in my throat for quite awhile.
So you're wondering, what the HELL had happened? But first, some relevant history. My roommate has strange sleeping patterns or perhaps a sleeping disorder of sorts because around 10 p.m. everyday she says,"I'm tired" and literally KONKS out on her bed, wakes up between 3 and 5 a.m., tries to finish the homework that she didn't finish cause she konked out so early, konks out again 45 min. to an hour later, wakes up at 6 or 7 a.m. to finish the homework and goes to class by 8 a.m..
It's bizarre because she falls asleep almost instantaneously. And I am NOT exaggerating, about 3 seconds after she utters the words, "I'm tired," she keels over, pen and paper in hand, glasses on face, homework and books on the bed (she usually sleeps with a pile of books and clothing on her bed,too). Not a very good habit to have, it seems.
Anyway, so that night, she wakes up at 4 a.m., decides to write in her journal, lights a candle, PUTS THE CANDLE ON HER BED (mistake #1), writes for a while, feels tired (uh-oh!), manages to cap her pen but NOT put out the candle before she konks out, literally, in about 2 seconds from the time that she was consciously aware of the fact that she still had to blow the candle out (mistake #2). Four seconds later the bed catches on fire and the rest is history.
First of all, who in their right mind would put a candle on a bed?!?!?!
The next day, our room was a veritable black and smoky mess. And to top it off, the girl had a goose DOWN comforter that was burned in the fire and let out about a million little down feathers into our room, EVERYWHERE. Oh don't worry, we all gave her shit for that little fiasco.
Wednesday, December 17, 1997
Tuesday, November 18, 1997
The real China
Da Tong is famous for the Hanging Monastery (Wu Tai Shan), and it was was supposed to be doable in one day. "No need to spend the night as it's only a seven hour train ride from Beijing," everyone said, "plus the food is really bad". So I think 'ok short weekend trip" and only prepare clothing and stuff for two days MAX. Who woulda thought. We leave Beijing Friday night, and not until we're on the bus to the Hanging Monastery Saturday morning, do I look at my Lonely Planet guide for the first time.
"Oooo! A small, secluded monastic village and Lama Temples nestled in the mountain ranges of Wu Tai Shan..." yada yada yada. We both agreed that we just HAD to go there.
There's only ONE bus on Saturday that goes to Wu Tai Shan and we, of course, missed it. We had to spend the night in this dirty, dumpy, coal-mining town. It had snowed, however, and a normally dingy town is magically transformed into a beautiful wintery-white wonderland by the first falls of powder (not exactly snowboarding material but hey, it made our night interesting). Oh, did I mention $4 each for a fairly warm (although the heater 'somehow' got turned off in the middle of the night) and surprisingly clean room.
Bus #1, Random Town #1, Sunday morning
After an hour of haggling and declining offers of 400 yuan rides, we finally find the right public bus, only to have our hopes crushed when the bus wouldn't start. Prospects are looking EXTREMELY dim when a fairly good-looking Chinese guy (there are some) brings us to another bus and we are, amazingly, on our way.
Bus #2, Random Town #2, Sunday afternoon
Old Chinese lady and driver pick us up off the side of the road while we were wandering randomly, considering our bleak options and shopping for wool-knit pants. It was REALLY COLD. After several hours of driving in the frigid cold, our bus (it's night time now, around 7 p.m.) decides to break down. I decided that night that there is a god after all because after 30 minutes of tinckering and sounds of a choking motor, the motor starts to purr. I was never so blessedly overjoyed in my life.
Monastic Village
It's suspect whether or not we actually saw the Hanging Monastery, but at least we did see a monastic village in the mountains, over FIFTEEN hours away from Beijing. In the surrounding temples, we bai-bai (kow tow) to Buddha, burned incense and asked Buddha to grant our wishes. We talk to soft-spoken monks from Mongolia, Tibet, and Szechuan province.
We meet a funny couple also touring the monastic villages. The man is Taiwanese and woman is a well-dressed, probably rich, mainland Chinese. They treat us to lunch (our best meal all weekend) and entertain us with antics and arguments about Taiwan and China, whose government is more corrupt, is Taiwan a real country etc.
Bus #3, from monastic village to Random Town #3 (on our way home to Beijing).
I miss class on Monday and freak the hell out of my roommate, friends and teacher because they thought I "got lost" (typical Chinese overbearing parenting). But the good news is I get to see what the Chinese country side is like - poor farmers and peasants living in traditional hu tong-style "housing" (more like brick shacks) and open air "bathrooms" (two wooden boards lain across a huge ditch, you stand on the boards and do your duty, lovely experience I might add :0) Of course, if you're a guy, you don't even bother with these board-and-ditch set-ups, you just go wherever and whenever you feel like it.
The real China...
CHINESE FROM AMERICA
Locals think all Americans are blond and blue-eyed folk. I am confronted with the same problem many times - whether or not to say I'm a Chinese from America.
If I did, they might try to charge us more money for the ride or accomodations, because they think all Americans are rich. They also have this "you owe us" mentality towards overseas Chinese.
If I didn't, they would think I was a foreigner and charge us more - what you call a LOSE-LOSE situation. Sometimes, people are more partial if you are Chinese and can speak fairly fluently, even if you're not from the mainland.
BARGAINING
It took a day and a half to get to the monastic village, and only after three buses (public and private) and wheelin' and dealin' with each of the drivers over the fare. THAT, I am now convinced, is the quintessential key to survival in China - the ability to bargain with the Chinese and avoid being cheated, or at least feel like you got a good bargain even if you probably still got swindled.
Asking "how and when to get where we want to go" is a more difficult problem than you might think, and we get the run-around whenever we ask about train and bus schedules. Most locals are very hospitable, but ONLY if you are giving them money (i.e. eating at their restaurant OR riding in their bus)
And of course, every person answers with his or her own agenda in mind. "How can I persuade these two foreigners that Wu Tai Shan is too cold and not worth going to so that they'll stay the night at my hotel?" OR "How can I fool these two foreigners into riding my bus even though it doesn't go where they want to and the bus that they want is coming soon?" OR "How can I swindle these two foreigners 250 yuan to take them to a place that's NOT their final destination, even when there's public buses that'll bring them there for 15 yuan?" You get the idea.
Our tactic was to take the average of say, 10 to 15 different replies, knocking out the two most extreme replies (top and bottom) in order to avoid a shift in our bell curve.
PROPOGANDA - everywhere you look, painted in big, red letters on the brick walls of houses and random buildings. "It's better to have only one child." "Education and knowledge of modern technology are the key to superiority over other countries" yada yada yada. Each village also has its own "government" headquarters - just like in the Communist heyday when party members would appoint cadres to govern local affairs and carry out orders from the central government.
BUS RIDES can get long, pee-breaks are infrequent, and whoa to the unfortunate soul who happens to cross in the line of fire. We spend many hours riding with the local country folk - mainly male, dirty, smelly, smoking like crazy, peasant farmers that speak a dialect of Chinese that sounds Arabic. They stare at us and we stare at them.
"Oooo! A small, secluded monastic village and Lama Temples nestled in the mountain ranges of Wu Tai Shan..." yada yada yada. We both agreed that we just HAD to go there.
There's only ONE bus on Saturday that goes to Wu Tai Shan and we, of course, missed it. We had to spend the night in this dirty, dumpy, coal-mining town. It had snowed, however, and a normally dingy town is magically transformed into a beautiful wintery-white wonderland by the first falls of powder (not exactly snowboarding material but hey, it made our night interesting). Oh, did I mention $4 each for a fairly warm (although the heater 'somehow' got turned off in the middle of the night) and surprisingly clean room.
Bus #1, Random Town #1, Sunday morning
After an hour of haggling and declining offers of 400 yuan rides, we finally find the right public bus, only to have our hopes crushed when the bus wouldn't start. Prospects are looking EXTREMELY dim when a fairly good-looking Chinese guy (there are some) brings us to another bus and we are, amazingly, on our way.
Bus #2, Random Town #2, Sunday afternoon
Old Chinese lady and driver pick us up off the side of the road while we were wandering randomly, considering our bleak options and shopping for wool-knit pants. It was REALLY COLD. After several hours of driving in the frigid cold, our bus (it's night time now, around 7 p.m.) decides to break down. I decided that night that there is a god after all because after 30 minutes of tinckering and sounds of a choking motor, the motor starts to purr. I was never so blessedly overjoyed in my life.
Monastic Village
It's suspect whether or not we actually saw the Hanging Monastery, but at least we did see a monastic village in the mountains, over FIFTEEN hours away from Beijing. In the surrounding temples, we bai-bai (kow tow) to Buddha, burned incense and asked Buddha to grant our wishes. We talk to soft-spoken monks from Mongolia, Tibet, and Szechuan province.
We meet a funny couple also touring the monastic villages. The man is Taiwanese and woman is a well-dressed, probably rich, mainland Chinese. They treat us to lunch (our best meal all weekend) and entertain us with antics and arguments about Taiwan and China, whose government is more corrupt, is Taiwan a real country etc.
Bus #3, from monastic village to Random Town #3 (on our way home to Beijing).
I miss class on Monday and freak the hell out of my roommate, friends and teacher because they thought I "got lost" (typical Chinese overbearing parenting). But the good news is I get to see what the Chinese country side is like - poor farmers and peasants living in traditional hu tong-style "housing" (more like brick shacks) and open air "bathrooms" (two wooden boards lain across a huge ditch, you stand on the boards and do your duty, lovely experience I might add :0) Of course, if you're a guy, you don't even bother with these board-and-ditch set-ups, you just go wherever and whenever you feel like it.
The real China...
CHINESE FROM AMERICA
Locals think all Americans are blond and blue-eyed folk. I am confronted with the same problem many times - whether or not to say I'm a Chinese from America.
If I did, they might try to charge us more money for the ride or accomodations, because they think all Americans are rich. They also have this "you owe us" mentality towards overseas Chinese.
If I didn't, they would think I was a foreigner and charge us more - what you call a LOSE-LOSE situation. Sometimes, people are more partial if you are Chinese and can speak fairly fluently, even if you're not from the mainland.
BARGAINING
It took a day and a half to get to the monastic village, and only after three buses (public and private) and wheelin' and dealin' with each of the drivers over the fare. THAT, I am now convinced, is the quintessential key to survival in China - the ability to bargain with the Chinese and avoid being cheated, or at least feel like you got a good bargain even if you probably still got swindled.
Asking "how and when to get where we want to go" is a more difficult problem than you might think, and we get the run-around whenever we ask about train and bus schedules. Most locals are very hospitable, but ONLY if you are giving them money (i.e. eating at their restaurant OR riding in their bus)
And of course, every person answers with his or her own agenda in mind. "How can I persuade these two foreigners that Wu Tai Shan is too cold and not worth going to so that they'll stay the night at my hotel?" OR "How can I fool these two foreigners into riding my bus even though it doesn't go where they want to and the bus that they want is coming soon?" OR "How can I swindle these two foreigners 250 yuan to take them to a place that's NOT their final destination, even when there's public buses that'll bring them there for 15 yuan?" You get the idea.
Our tactic was to take the average of say, 10 to 15 different replies, knocking out the two most extreme replies (top and bottom) in order to avoid a shift in our bell curve.
PROPOGANDA - everywhere you look, painted in big, red letters on the brick walls of houses and random buildings. "It's better to have only one child." "Education and knowledge of modern technology are the key to superiority over other countries" yada yada yada. Each village also has its own "government" headquarters - just like in the Communist heyday when party members would appoint cadres to govern local affairs and carry out orders from the central government.
BUS RIDES can get long, pee-breaks are infrequent, and whoa to the unfortunate soul who happens to cross in the line of fire. We spend many hours riding with the local country folk - mainly male, dirty, smelly, smoking like crazy, peasant farmers that speak a dialect of Chinese that sounds Arabic. They stare at us and we stare at them.
Sunday, September 14, 1997
Uiygurville
In Beijing, Uiyger-ville is a long dirt road lined with restaurants selling skewered lamb & flatbread - whose signs are all written in arabic. Kinda like Chinatown of SF, a poor and self-sufficient ethnic enclave, where many of the waiters only speak the native tongue.
We arrive in a taxi and before the taxi even stops, five guys (the "solicitors" for the restaurants) are hanging off the windows, excitedly yelling for us to go to their restaurant.
We're attacked by different guys all trying to get us into their respective restaurants. One guy is chasing my friend, another one is in my face, yelling and screaming at me in some arabic tongue, another is pulling my friend into his restaurant.
Suddenly, the whole street erupts with activity, as new solicitors from restaurants down the street run full-speed toward us and start yelling at us to try their restaurant. Don't ask me how we chose a restaurant and finally sat down.
The food is really good, lots of meat though, mostly lamb meat that's barbecued and very spicy.
We arrive in a taxi and before the taxi even stops, five guys (the "solicitors" for the restaurants) are hanging off the windows, excitedly yelling for us to go to their restaurant.
We're attacked by different guys all trying to get us into their respective restaurants. One guy is chasing my friend, another one is in my face, yelling and screaming at me in some arabic tongue, another is pulling my friend into his restaurant.
Suddenly, the whole street erupts with activity, as new solicitors from restaurants down the street run full-speed toward us and start yelling at us to try their restaurant. Don't ask me how we chose a restaurant and finally sat down.
The food is really good, lots of meat though, mostly lamb meat that's barbecued and very spicy.
Tuesday, September 02, 1997
Beijing
(email to friends, I had left for China the day the world found out that Princess Diana had died)
After what seemed like a week of travelling to get to Beijing, spending a night in Hotel Nikko near Tokyo airport by my lonesome (kept the night light on cause it was freaky in the hotel room), meeting really nice relatives I never knew I had, feeling homesick for family and friends (even before reaching Beijing, how pathetic is that?). I am finally here, in my second home, the e-mail center for Beijing University students.
Of course I had to do e-mail first thing I got here. Let's see - rooms are tiny, I just bought a washing machine today with 8 other people so I'm paying about $25 USD for my share, and had to get my blood drawn for HIV and syphillis testing. (I coulda told them that there have been no opportunities for me to contract those diseases but ya' know)
By the way, don't use swear words and words relating to 1015 Folsom and "extra-curriculars" because they censor mail. It's been kinda hard meeting people cause a lot of foreign students are part of programs - the UC EAP program is the largest, of course, so they all clique together and then the Korean, Japanese students form there own little cliques. The individual loner types (me!) have to work twice as hard to find out about stuff (where to buy laundry detergent, clothing lines, refrigerators, etc.) and to meet random people. So it's like freshman year all over again except in Chinese.
I've been so friendly these past two days it's scary, talking to random people while waiting for the phone, eating in the cafeteria. It didn't hit me that I am FAR away from home, my parents, my beloved friends, until I spent the first night in the dorms.
After what seemed like a week of travelling to get to Beijing, spending a night in Hotel Nikko near Tokyo airport by my lonesome (kept the night light on cause it was freaky in the hotel room), meeting really nice relatives I never knew I had, feeling homesick for family and friends (even before reaching Beijing, how pathetic is that?). I am finally here, in my second home, the e-mail center for Beijing University students.
Of course I had to do e-mail first thing I got here. Let's see - rooms are tiny, I just bought a washing machine today with 8 other people so I'm paying about $25 USD for my share, and had to get my blood drawn for HIV and syphillis testing. (I coulda told them that there have been no opportunities for me to contract those diseases but ya' know)
By the way, don't use swear words and words relating to 1015 Folsom and "extra-curriculars" because they censor mail. It's been kinda hard meeting people cause a lot of foreign students are part of programs - the UC EAP program is the largest, of course, so they all clique together and then the Korean, Japanese students form there own little cliques. The individual loner types (me!) have to work twice as hard to find out about stuff (where to buy laundry detergent, clothing lines, refrigerators, etc.) and to meet random people. So it's like freshman year all over again except in Chinese.
I've been so friendly these past two days it's scary, talking to random people while waiting for the phone, eating in the cafeteria. It didn't hit me that I am FAR away from home, my parents, my beloved friends, until I spent the first night in the dorms.
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