Don't be alarmed, but I think I may have died and found myself in laowai heaven. A few days ago, my sometimes-coworker told me of a little place called City Shop here in Shanghai. There are multiple locations, he informed me, and one was somewhere in the vicinity of Xujiahui. Little did he - or I - realize that this location was not truly near Xujiahui, but actually about a 15 minute walk from the metro stop... placing it about a block and a half from my doorstep. Yaay!
And let me tell you, had it been a 40 minute walk, it would still have been well worth it.... A full bakery, a full imported beer, wine, and liquor section, Pop Tarts, Lucky Charms, Dortios, Cheetos that are cheese-flavored, Newman's Own salad dressing, about 20 wheels of various cheeses, a deli, sauces, mustards, pickles, oh the list goes on and on.
So here I am, a block and a half away from any and everything my foreigner heart could desire. Things I - and many others - might have killed for in a place like, say, Wenzhou. Oh, it's good to be in Shanghai.
In other news, work is going well... though very busy. My heavy days are Saturday and Sunday which, as you may have guessed by now, sucks majorly. Fortunately, Shanghai is a thriving enough metropolis, populated by enough foreigners and Chinese who work at private English schools, that even weekdays (such as, say, Monday and Tuesday) can be good days to hit the town. Near our apt, Nancy and I found the Pomegranate Lounge, which featured a live quartet of guitarists and bongo-beaters in a groovy, though almost certainly spur-of-the-moment jam session set against a hilarious Soviet-era Russian poli-cartoon. Drinks, though certainly not cheap, were reasonably priced: a Tequila Sunrise ran us (a very reasonable) 40 kuai, and a Mojito (yum) put us out 65.
I'm looking forward to my next paycheck - ETA: 4 days. After running me though the document ringer (claiming the police didn't want the perfectly legitimate scanned copy of my release letter, then needing me to send my TEFL cert AGAIN...ugh), my work has finally issued me a time card (whoop-dee-doo) which seem to indicate they're actually going to keep me around. Not that I was concerned... at all. I'm doing quite well at my job. Every time I'm put on a demo lesson, about half the kids sign up then and there. I call that a win.
OH! I almost forgot, as I sit here sipping it now... City Shop stocks Rogue Beer! Hallalujah! And it is delicious!
Cheers!
(CS) TAW Out.
The lycanthropic jottings of my fourth year prowling the Chinese moonlight.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Holiday(?)
I write this in between sips of Diet Pepsi and Eristoff tiple instilled premium vodka. Premium being, apparently, worth about 88 kuai… when the average imported (read: drinkable) liquor runs about 110-120/bottle. Still, it’s not bad at all. Quite nice, in fact. I think the aspartame of the Pepsi masks the taste of the vodka. One almost shudders to think what the non-premium version would be like.
I’ve just come off of my national holiday. The 60th anniversary of the Glorious and Harmonious founding of the Glory and Harmony that is the People’s (glorious) Republic (harmonious) of China (glormonious). I’m obligated, as it were, to discuss the translation error that seems to have occurred between Chinese and English. These things happen, of course. These are two very different cultures, with very different languages. Still, to a native English-speaker, the specific terminology of “holiday” does tend to conjure up rather explicit meanings. For instance: I’m not usually expected to “make up” a holiday’s missed hours. Work hours which would have normally fallen during a holiday, are most often simply written off as being, well… a holiday.
This is not the case in China. To channel Yakov Smirnoff for a moment, in Communist China, holiday takes youuuuuuuuuu….
To, ahem, “make up for” last weeks state-mandated lazification to observe the full power of this fully armed and operational state (2 pts. for getting the reference), were are now expected to run a double-shift this week. This, in spite of the fact that today, for instance, my class had a grand total of 2 children… one of whom was “test-driving” it to see if they wanted to sign up (and, somehow, I think I convinced them to). So one actual student. Uno. Eine. Un. 一个. One. Ten hours in the office… one actual customer served. I believe a McDonald’s might actually implode into a mathematical singularity.
But hell, I’m getting paid for it. And what else am I going to do with my time… other than enjoy the fine taste of Eristoff premium vodka (Eristoff CFO: please send the checks to No. 40 West Huaihai Rd, Apt. 104A)? After all, Nancy’s in Wenzhou at the moment… whisked away on the winds of fate by the wiles of a sister (which one? There are so many) having the gall to get proposed to. So yet another Sun is getting hitched. Which makes “mama” all the more impatient with her erstwhile Jienan… stubbornly clinging to singlehood, even though she has a perfectly good foreigner boyfriend. Yeah, that’s pretty much how I’m thinking it’s going right now. God knows Nancy’s getting the brunt end of her parents now. She may, in fact, be the only child of 8 at this point to not be either married, or officially headed in that direction. One wonders why her parents actually care so much… For chrissake, it’s not like they’re hurting for an heir. This, of course, is then reflected back on me… in addition to the internal kitchen timer ticking away inside her own skull. Yeah… so there’s that…
Oh Eristoff, take me away…
(CS) TAW Out.
I’ve just come off of my national holiday. The 60th anniversary of the Glorious and Harmonious founding of the Glory and Harmony that is the People’s (glorious) Republic (harmonious) of China (glormonious). I’m obligated, as it were, to discuss the translation error that seems to have occurred between Chinese and English. These things happen, of course. These are two very different cultures, with very different languages. Still, to a native English-speaker, the specific terminology of “holiday” does tend to conjure up rather explicit meanings. For instance: I’m not usually expected to “make up” a holiday’s missed hours. Work hours which would have normally fallen during a holiday, are most often simply written off as being, well… a holiday.
This is not the case in China. To channel Yakov Smirnoff for a moment, in Communist China, holiday takes youuuuuuuuuu….
To, ahem, “make up for” last weeks state-mandated lazification to observe the full power of this fully armed and operational state (2 pts. for getting the reference), were are now expected to run a double-shift this week. This, in spite of the fact that today, for instance, my class had a grand total of 2 children… one of whom was “test-driving” it to see if they wanted to sign up (and, somehow, I think I convinced them to). So one actual student. Uno. Eine. Un. 一个. One. Ten hours in the office… one actual customer served. I believe a McDonald’s might actually implode into a mathematical singularity.
But hell, I’m getting paid for it. And what else am I going to do with my time… other than enjoy the fine taste of Eristoff premium vodka (Eristoff CFO: please send the checks to No. 40 West Huaihai Rd, Apt. 104A)? After all, Nancy’s in Wenzhou at the moment… whisked away on the winds of fate by the wiles of a sister (which one? There are so many) having the gall to get proposed to. So yet another Sun is getting hitched. Which makes “mama” all the more impatient with her erstwhile Jienan… stubbornly clinging to singlehood, even though she has a perfectly good foreigner boyfriend. Yeah, that’s pretty much how I’m thinking it’s going right now. God knows Nancy’s getting the brunt end of her parents now. She may, in fact, be the only child of 8 at this point to not be either married, or officially headed in that direction. One wonders why her parents actually care so much… For chrissake, it’s not like they’re hurting for an heir. This, of course, is then reflected back on me… in addition to the internal kitchen timer ticking away inside her own skull. Yeah… so there’s that…
Oh Eristoff, take me away…
(CS) TAW Out.
Friday, October 2, 2009
A Day 60 Years in the Making
Yesterday, the first of October, marked the National Day holiday of the PRC. And not just any old national day…. But the big Six-Oh. That’s right, “New” China is over the hill. And how better to celebrate than with a giant military parade through Tiananmen Square, show-casing the latest and greatest of the People’s Liberation Army’s “toys?” My personal favorite was the woman on CCTV 9 calmly – almost nonchalantly – stating:
“And coming up next through the Square we have the PLA’s Nuclear Arsenal on display for the first time.”
No, seriously. I’m not kidding. You can’t make this stuff up. But don’t worry. We were all assured that the arsenal was purely for deterrence, and that China had definitively declined to engage in the nuclear arms race. Well, THAT’s a load off my mind!
I think the most interesting thing of this whole ordeal, though, has been talking to my co-teacher, Leon. Leon is a 22 year old Shanghainese, who went into law school, and then into the Notary Public Office, failed to get into Police School because of an eye problem, and so (curiously) decided to apply for a job a Longman, even though he said “before this job I hated kids.” Yeah, interesting guy. But fun, most of the time… in a Chinese sort of way. Anyway, one of our conversations on the metro ride home ended up drifting toward the then-upcoming national day parade. I ask him his thoughts on it (as always, keeping any point of view I have on the topic as neutral as I can. I try to simply pose open, neutral questions, and then log answers.)
His response was, in summation, that he thought it was both good and important for a government/military to have these sorts of showcases, because it showed everyone how powerful they were as a country. Bemused, I asked if he knew how many military parades the US had every year. He half smiled… yeah, he knew the answer was somewhere between nil and none. Actually, strike that. We do hold military parades. Except they in other countries. And we call them military operations. Ah, semantics, semantics, semantics.
It does strike me as the coming directly from the “Standard Chinese Answer Guidebook” I’m convinced each and every member of the population receives at birth, though. The books that tells them to answer every question posed about China with (Choose One):
A) unquestioning child-like trust of the government
B) fanatical hyperpatriotism
C) rage over wars/injustices long-past
D) the semi-veiled suggestion that, you being a foreigner, could not possibly ever understand any aspect of China in a true sense, and you really ought to just shut up with the questions already.
Living here, I’m often reminded a little bit of certain video games – namely flight simulators, or 3D worlds (like World of Warcraft, for instance). As a foreigner, China can be a very freeing and open experience in many regards. But no matter how open and infinite that digital sky might seem, if you stare just a little longer, you realize that the clouds aren’t moving. As you try to fly over to the next continent to see what’s there, you suddenly and inexplicably hit a giant, impenetrable, invisible wall. Granted, you’re only gently rebuffed (rather than plowing your jet full force into a brick wall, it’s like hitting an impenetrable trampoline), but there’s no way you’re going any further. You’ve reached the edge of the map… the box. It’s a soft, pretty box… but it’s got six sides and holds you just as firmly.
Get the metaphor? Yeah, maybe it was a little too techy. Go watch The Truman Show and you’ll see what I’m getting at.
(CS) TAW Out.
“And coming up next through the Square we have the PLA’s Nuclear Arsenal on display for the first time.”
No, seriously. I’m not kidding. You can’t make this stuff up. But don’t worry. We were all assured that the arsenal was purely for deterrence, and that China had definitively declined to engage in the nuclear arms race. Well, THAT’s a load off my mind!
I think the most interesting thing of this whole ordeal, though, has been talking to my co-teacher, Leon. Leon is a 22 year old Shanghainese, who went into law school, and then into the Notary Public Office, failed to get into Police School because of an eye problem, and so (curiously) decided to apply for a job a Longman, even though he said “before this job I hated kids.” Yeah, interesting guy. But fun, most of the time… in a Chinese sort of way. Anyway, one of our conversations on the metro ride home ended up drifting toward the then-upcoming national day parade. I ask him his thoughts on it (as always, keeping any point of view I have on the topic as neutral as I can. I try to simply pose open, neutral questions, and then log answers.)
His response was, in summation, that he thought it was both good and important for a government/military to have these sorts of showcases, because it showed everyone how powerful they were as a country. Bemused, I asked if he knew how many military parades the US had every year. He half smiled… yeah, he knew the answer was somewhere between nil and none. Actually, strike that. We do hold military parades. Except they in other countries. And we call them military operations. Ah, semantics, semantics, semantics.
It does strike me as the coming directly from the “Standard Chinese Answer Guidebook” I’m convinced each and every member of the population receives at birth, though. The books that tells them to answer every question posed about China with (Choose One):
A) unquestioning child-like trust of the government
B) fanatical hyperpatriotism
C) rage over wars/injustices long-past
D) the semi-veiled suggestion that, you being a foreigner, could not possibly ever understand any aspect of China in a true sense, and you really ought to just shut up with the questions already.
Living here, I’m often reminded a little bit of certain video games – namely flight simulators, or 3D worlds (like World of Warcraft, for instance). As a foreigner, China can be a very freeing and open experience in many regards. But no matter how open and infinite that digital sky might seem, if you stare just a little longer, you realize that the clouds aren’t moving. As you try to fly over to the next continent to see what’s there, you suddenly and inexplicably hit a giant, impenetrable, invisible wall. Granted, you’re only gently rebuffed (rather than plowing your jet full force into a brick wall, it’s like hitting an impenetrable trampoline), but there’s no way you’re going any further. You’ve reached the edge of the map… the box. It’s a soft, pretty box… but it’s got six sides and holds you just as firmly.
Get the metaphor? Yeah, maybe it was a little too techy. Go watch The Truman Show and you’ll see what I’m getting at.
(CS) TAW Out.
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