Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Banned In The PRC

Yep, it's true. I have no way of officially verifying it of course, but seeing as I haven't been able to access my blog's webpage in about a week, I'm guessing that Big Brother has struck again. Subsequently, I hope all you readers out in cyberland will forgive any formatting or typographical errors that may be present in any of my recent posts as I have no way to proofread after publishing.

Development and modernization will breed openness. Keep the faith everyone...we shall overcome.

On a totally separate side note, there was a guy on a bicycle this morning who kept turning around to stare at yours truly, the beautiful, exotic, yet sorta funny-looking waiguoren you've all come to know and adore. He turned around once to check out the foreign import (a.k.a. me), which is understandable. But then a second time. And a third time. Of course by that point, flattering had turned into nuisance. By the fifth time I started to fume. I mean, I'm just another human being, right?

And then he saw the parked truck. It was jutting out into the street, forcing him to swerve into the middle of the street, and fall off his bike. Embarassed, he quickly dusted himself off, scanned quickly to his left and right, averted his eyes from the gaze of the people he had mortified himself in front of, jumped back on his bike, and sped away. This time he didn't look back. Not even once.

I let out a stifled giggle and a triumphant smile emerged. And with that, my emotional equilibrium was restored.
posted by Rachel @ 2:43 PM  
Monday, October 30, 2006
Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?
Well, technically it didn't...it was dead and lying face down in a bucket, so it really didn't have much of a choice.

Sorry everyone - I know I'm running out of cutesy phrases and creative pop culture references to use in my titles. But that is a pretty accurate description of my Sunday. Our tale today begins with my meeting on Saturday with the daughter of my colleague's neighbor. She and her friend came to Laiwu to visit family, but work for an airline on the route between Shanghai and New Zealand. My colleague, Dang Jia invited me to lunch with the girls, whose English names were Sarah and Ella (apparently for international flying, every flight attendant must also have an English name for their name tag). They were very sweet and spoke considerably good English. They even invited me to stay with them in Shanghai sometime and if I do decide to move there, to help me acclimatize. As a special treat for the end of our meal, Dang Jie ordered a gigantic fruit platter that had watermelon, grapes, banana, pear, and even tangerine slices - a welcome change from the usual. This prompted me to ask if there was a good place to buy fruit nearby. There was one place that had a pretty good selection - a kind of supermart for the area - but it was expensive, about an hour's walk away, and the store stopped carrying some of the types of fruits I like even though they were not yet out of season. I suppose this is where the story really begins. From out the window next to our table, Dang Jie pointed out a place down the street that I could go to. I saw a sign that read "超市" (chaoshi = small supermarket). Great, I thought. After lunch I returned home planning the next day to return and check it out. I was also looking forward to having a place right around the corner to buy all the other types of food I buy including, my favorite, 粥 (zhou = congee). Don't worry, it's not the stuff with eel and squid in it or anything, just plain old sweet bean congee.

So the next day I ventured over to the chaoshi, walked inside and took a look around. The first aisle I walked down had twelve packs of canned congee, which is perfect. I figured I'd grab the zhou on the way out because the twelve pack is heavy - heavy enough to be in a box with its own handle. Great, one down one to go. Next, the fruit. The one fruit I was particularly searching for is called 苹果梨 (pingguoli = asian pear). It's sweet like a pear but has the consistency and fibrousness of an apple. I started walking around the shop looking for it, but saw only meats, and canned goods. No fruit. So I asked the cashier where the place to buy fruit was. She pointed out the store and said, "down the street." I walked outside and down the street looking for any sign of a store with fruit, but I only saw electronics and cell phone stores. Then, I saw a vendor with a truck full of apples. As my eyes continued to scan down the street, it slowly dawned on me what my friends were actually pointing to the day before. Their comments had not been quite specific enough. It wasn't just "a place to buy fruit," it was a whole outdoor market. This will work fine, I thought. I began walking along the stalls, noting two vendors I had already seen who sold pingguoli. But shopping would happen later - for now I was just plain curious. From the way the vendors were speaking they were definitely native Laiwu - their Shandong accents were thick and if I hadn't already known what they were calling out (prices, offers, names of fruits and vegetables), I would've been utterly confused. Elderly women and men crouched on small stools with towels draped over their heads. It was chilly out (about 55 degrees), but the sun was bright and harsh in some places along the avenue. They sold fruits, vegetables, eggs, nuts, breads, and grains. Tofu was on heated plates, ready to be sold fresh and soft. I even saw one woman selling popcorn, popped in a small metal cylinder that she spun around and around. She had different seasonings - some sweet, some salty.

And then it hit me. A smell. I can barely describe it except that I remember it made my nostrils flare up. Just then, sight connected with smell and there they were. Meat carcasses hanging on hooks. Chickens lying dead in buckets with their clawed feet sticking up into the air. Fresh fish still alive. And not-so-fresh fish dead, laying on paper, drying in the sun. This is not the first time I've been to a market like this. It certainly wasn't the shock of seeing dead slabs of meat and poultry that threw me. But I had never seen such aggressive salespeople. I was nearly assaulted by a woman with a dead chicken. She had it by the throat in one hand and was shaking it far too close to the vicintiy of my face and yelling prices at me. And let me tell you, did that dead chicken in my face smell great. That seemed to be their notion of "salesmanship." And it was a direct result of this interesting form of "sales pitch" that I wisely decided to turn back. I went to the woman with the best selection of pingguoli, picked out five that looked good, and paid a pretty low price for them too. I left feeling satisfied. I had my fruit. And no dead chickens. And I was okay with that.

On the way back I picked up the zhou and started back to my place. I passed an open market of women selling winter coats and children's clothing and outside of it all, a group of kids waiting in line at a vendor making, of all things, cotton candy. I heard children whisper "waiguoren" as I continued walking and had to laugh. And then I saw the strangest sight I had yet seen in Laiwu. A sign that had a picture of hamburgers and french fries on it. I stopped for a moment to check it out. It was for real. Tom's Food Club is literally the first "international cuisine" (and by that I mean anything remotely non-Chinese) I've seen in all of Laiwu. It reminded me of a Johnny Rockets. Maybe one day I'll try Tom's Food Club, but I think I'll wait until my stomach has hardened a bit more.

As I continued walking, the handle on the box of zhou suddenly broke off. With a bag of pingguoli in one hand, I was trying to balance the box of zhou on my foot and lift it back into my other hand. And just as quickly as it had fallen, a teenage girl with a large shopping bag came out, lifted the box of zhou, put it in the bag and gently cautioned me with, "慢走吧" (man zou ba - literally meaning walk slowly, its translation really comes out to something like "be careful"). And there's the moral for today. This steel town may be primitive sometimes, they may thrust dead poultry at you, and they may only have one very sketchy "international" eatery, but these are truly good people.
posted by Rachel @ 10:12 AM  
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
My Way, The Highway, Or The Rong Wei?

I don't really have time to be writing posts, but this one couldn't wait. I was reading the business news this morning and Chinese carmaker SAIC, after losing the bid to use the "Rover" name (now owned by Ford), is finally manufacturing its own design. The car model, going by the English name "Roewe", in Chinese will be called the "Rong Wei." Ironic, no? It translates as "glorious power." But you would've thought they would have consulted someone on this.






Their newest slogan? "The Rong Wei Is Just More Fun."

Well, perhaps that's not really their newest slogan and a bit "subversive" for the Chinese market, but if I had my way...

posted by Rachel @ 11:08 AM  
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Development, Deshvelopment
You don't know how hard it was to figure out how I should spell that second "deshvelopment."

Anyway, it is a widely known fact that China's national GDP is ranked 4th in the world after the US, Japan, and Germany. And yet, according to China's own National Bureau of Statistics, China's per capita GDP is only $1,703 or 110th in the world.
Other statistics cited at the 14th World productivity congress in Shenyang include:
1) China contributes just 5% to the world GDP but comsumes 25-40% of the world's crude coal, iron ore, steel, aluminum, and cement.
2) Only 3 in 10,000 Chinese companies have intellectual property rights for their core technologies.
3) 99% of Chinese firms have no patents.

And every day I'm asked why I'm still here if China is so well developed. You know, people, China isn't just Wal-Marts and thousand year-old pagodas with Starbuckses in the lobby.


posted by Rachel @ 9:27 AM  
Monday, October 23, 2006
Driver's Ed 101 or What I Learned This Weekend

After having the experience, within a single three day period, of being driven around in both a small city (Laiwu) and an overwhelmingly large metropolis (Shanghai) by everyone from private chauffeurs, to cabbies and bus drivers, I have learned to stop asking the following questions:
1) Who would buy a spitoon when there's a perfectly good window right next to you?
2) Why do they install turn signals on Chinese cars?


I also learned that the concept of “following distance” is truly overrated. I decided it would be fun to keep a tally of how many near-misses (or as George Carlin would say, near-hits) were managed over a three day period. It only counts if the vehicle in which I was being driven came within 2 inches of the other vehicle involved. The tally came to 87 and a quarter (that quarter is for one particular instance in which we weren't within 2 inches, but we were moving with such acceleration into the other car's side panel that it literally made me jump from my seat). Surprisingly enough, after a bit of digging, I found that there are a great many driving schools in China, although what they're accomplishing I have no earthly clue. But the driving instructors at these schools must have at least some influence on the drivers on the road. And so it made me wonder: what qualifies one to become an instructor?

WANTED: Males between the ages of 35 and 45 - must have no prior driving experience, smoke like a chimney, be able to spit every possible known bodily fluid out the window with perfect precision at high velocity, speak no better than broken Mandarin - unique and rare dialects from faraway provinces preferred. Driving test will include: avoiding unusual pack animals pulling large carts, forcing motorcyclists off the road without actually hitting them, weaving repeatedly across the lanes on both sides of the double yellow to assert dominance over your "driving territory," flashing your high beams into the rearview mirror of the car in front of you within one foot of said vehicle's driver-side panel, and going from zero km/h to 75 and back to zero in 4 seconds FLAT - no exceptions.

As a final note, for those of you who read my blog not for my sharp humor, critical eye, and poignant witticisms, but just to check up on how I'm doing, I had a wonderful time in Shanghai, thanks for asking. I actually remember a lot of the places I visited last time I was there - which I guess means Gang Gang didn't force me to drink quite enough baijiu - and the trip has made me strongly consider making Shanghai my next move after my work here in Laiwu is done.

The only sad thing was that the gigantic outdoor market we visited last summer, one of the highlights of our Shanghai trip, was closed down for selling too many "knock-offs" (actually, that's pretty much ALL they sold). But it turns out the police only enforce the closing down of these types of markets if they're outdoors. So now the vendors just sell their "merchandise" from warehouses scattered throughout the city which, I have to say, is extremely inconvenient. To that effect, I would like to write an open note to those wonderful men and women who helped to make my Shanghai experience so memorable:

Dear IP Police,

Thank you very much for your all your help in the war on fake Gucci purses and Bolex watches. The revenues of high-line fashion and accessory companies have clearly been depleted by the sale of fake designer goods and, through your actions, have obviously been ceded a major victory in the war against poor Chinese people who make a living selling defective merchandise in order to eat at least every three or four days.

Sincerely,
Rachel

P.S. I know that the safety of registered intellectual property rights helps to drive the economy and provides incentive for creativity and investment, so please don't send me angry comments as you would be wasting your time preaching to the one-person choir. I was just mad that I didn't get to spend the day yelling at Chinese salesmen in my best Chinglish in an attempt to haggle down prices on stuff I don't even want and that would likely fall apart the moment I stepped out of the marketplace. Ah, those truly were great times.

posted by Rachel @ 12:15 PM  
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
The Road Ends In Hong Kong


I spent this last weekend in Hong Kong and I had a fabulous, relaxing time. Plus, it was nice to see people who aren't Chinese for once. Major stops on the tour included ICF, Dragon-I (care of my cousin Erika's friend JJ), and the Aberdeen Marina Club for a little yachting with cousin Bruce and family (sorry Chinese music fans, Coco was not present as she's in Taiwan at the moment). This weekend is Shanghai. I haven't been there in a year or so and I can't wait to go back.

Oh, and if you can name the series of movies from which this post's tagline is derived (without looking it up online) you deserve a prize. You're not actually going to get one of course, but deserve it you will.

posted by Rachel @ 5:18 PM  
Abducted!






Okay maybe not THAT kind of abducted...











But last night I was ambushed. That's right, kids. I was kidnapped. In spite of my already having arranged dinner with friends, my co-workers hijacked my plans and me and whisked me off into the blackness of night. Now, obviously I survived, seeing as I'm writing this blog post - and that does tend to spoil the ending - but work with me here people. After being forced to cancel my plans and jump into a white van (this is starting to sound like the Italian Job), we began driving somwhere. When I asked where we were going, the response I got was someplace to eat. Believe it or not, this is not as detailed an answer as I was hoping for. Despite not knowing our destination, the drive was actually fun and even though I only understood about 55-60% of what was being said (I speak some Chinese, but I'm not fluent here), it did allow me to see my co-workers in a new light. They're considerably older (at least 10-15+ years), so I usually only get to see their work faces. We drove into the night and I got the grand tour of the ENTIRE steel manufacturing plant from the outside. Then, I heard my supervisor and the driver talking excitedly about something. Apparently, my supervisor wanted to stay on the main road and the driver knew a shortcut to wherever it was we were going. The driver won out and we very suddenly found ourselves driving on an incredibly uneven dirt road that had more bumps than bumper cars. If I had already eaten, I would've been sick. Luckily, this was not the case as we continued to drive along this road for about 20 minutes. Nearing our destination (I could finally see lights up ahead), one of my co-workers told me that this was Qishan (Qi mountain), a mountain that, at its peak, was in fact higher than Taishan (see post, "Ain't No Mountain High Enough"). However, I was in a car and we weren't climbing to the peak, so no issues on my end.

We arrived finally at a small restaurant that reminded me of the Chinese version of a French bistro. It had twinkle lights strung across the entryway and small lotus buds in a pond near the front door. A server showed us to the room where we would be eating, and I suddenly noticed that the table was only about one or two feet off the ground. And there were no chairs. Maybe we'd be sitting on cushions on the floor, Japanese style. But no, the waiter brought in these collapsable stools - basically two wooden crosspieces connected by a crisscross of fabric (you're supposed to sit on the fabric part). We made ourselves as comfortable as possible and my boss went out to order the dishes for the evening. And then there it was. The baijiu that I was sure would be my downfall for the evening. Every couple of minutes throughout the meal, someone of the five co-workers I was with would give a toast and we would sip at our drinks. The food was great - I will give them that; a great blend of spicy, sweet, salty, and bitter, and they were all famous Shandong dishes. The meal included things like spicy stewed beef, spinach and corn cakes, fried pumpkin, and a sort of scrambled egg and seaweed (this last one was actually my favorite despite how it sounds).

Then, after we finished eating, they said something about ten drinks. And suddenly I was confused again. We had already given the toasts - even I myself had given a toast. What could be left? Well, ganbei of course (literally meaning dry cup, its meaning refers to drinking however much alcohol is left in your glass - kind of like taking a shot). They asked me what order I had met them in. One of the co-workers was there when I was picked up at 3 a.m. the first night I arrived in Laiwu, so he was "one." My assistant was "two," followed by my boss "three," the woman in the office next door, "four," and the woman who had let me sit with her when I was locked out of my office one lunch hour, "five." So "one" and I clinked glasses (which is the equivalent of ganbei - apparently if you don't want to empty your glass, don't clink glasses with anyone) and I drank half a teacup's worth of baijiu. Now, anyone who has ever drank baijiu knows it works fast. It was unfortunate that after we began I finally realized what was about to happen:

I had to ganbei with each person. Twice.

This is supposed to symbolize "double luck." All I can say is, thank goodness they don't believe in triple luck. So in order from "one" to "five" - TWICE - we finished our glasses. I was probably drunk before the first round was even over. Now I will say one good thing for the alcohol - the conversation flowed better. My tones got progressively worse (for those of you who don't know, Chinese is a tonal language - if you use the wrong inflection, you're saying something completely different), but I understood my co-workers with more ease and I was certainly less inhibited in my speech.
*And let me digress for a moment and say to those of you - you know who you are - speech was the ONLY inhibition I lost, thank you very much Sean and Jason.


Anyway, usually if I don't know exactly how to say something in Chinese, I won't. But after that much baijiu, I didn't care and I made more effort to be part of the conversation. I don't know if constantly getting drunk is the answer to this problem - drinking may solve some problems in life, I don't think this is one of them - but it certainly made me aware of my inhibition and I'm making a more concerted effort to practice speaking as much as possible. After much alcohol and the packing up of leftover food, we headed back down the mountain talking and joking the whole way back. I was dropped off at my hotel and the kidnapping was over, giving me time to sleep it all off.
posted by Rachel @ 10:10 AM  
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Tea Sets and Tupperware Parties


No, the story I'm about to tell is not part of a 50s television family sitcom, but is rather the offspring of an American business idea that time forgot for a while. That is, until the Chinese pulled it off the shelf, dusted it off, and implemented it anew. The purpose of tupperware parties was to bring a neighborhood of women together to sell items that each household needed. This concept was revised in later decades with Avon cosmetics and the sale of phone services - after the initial sale of the item to a friend, that friend was then encouraged to sell to their friends. The initial seller took a little off the top - classic pyramid magic. We've all heard of the illegal pyramid scheme. This is the legal, profit-friendly version. And it used to be quite popular in the States until Wal-mart conquered the earth.

*I feel I should point out at this juncture that I do not begrudge successful chain superstores such as the aforementioned - I only regret that I didn't think of it first (which would have been some endeavour seeing as I wasn't even born yet).

Anyhow, China has only ONE Wal-mart and while French supergiant Carrefour is quite popular, and has managed to carve a deep niche in the Chinese retail market, only large cities are privy to their massive selection and (somewhat) cheap pricing. The closest one to Laiwu is in Qingdao - 4 hours away by car. And it is a result of this incongruity in China between large cities and, well, everywhere else that paves the road for the prosperity of a pyramid-style company like Amway.

And this is where our story begins. I had heard the name before but never really knew what Amway did - I knew only that they sold a large variety of products. A phone call with my parents enlightened me on the nature and structure of the Amway business plan. My encounter with Amway began with my friend Juan's birthday party last Friday. Much of her family and friends from Qingdao and Xintai had come to celebrate. Among them was Ma Jie (for those of you unfamiliar with Chinese names, it goes last name first - her surname being Ma - and the Jie actually just means the equivalent of "older sister"), who worked for Amway's corporate headquarters in China. She invited me that Sunday evening to a gathering for 安利 Anli (the Chinese branch of Amway) and having nothing else to do, I figured I'd go check it out.

Sunday evening Juan and I walked together across the town to the meeting place. I figured we'd be meeting in an office or someone's apartment, but when we arrived, I found myself in cramped quarters with about 25 Chinese people in what was set up to look like a classroom. When I first entered, they were playing some kind of word and number game, probably to get the crowd of people engaged before the pitch. Upon my entrance, there were sounds of surprise and whispers of flattery. I was given a seat on the couch (I'm American, so I'm always an honored guest) against the side wall. First Zheng Qiang - a girl I had met at Juan's party - gave a demonstration using Amway's laundry detergent line. She would ask a rhetorical question, to which every person in the room would loudly exclaim "dui!" (= "right" or "yeah"). It reminded me of those infomercials on TV where the near-hyperactive crowd responds to every stained shirt with "Shout it out!".

Then another woman I had not met before came on and began talking about the principles and ethics that Amway upholds as a company and tries to implement through their product line, things like health, safety, happiness, etc. Finally Ma Jie stood up and told a couple of funny anecdotes. She told a story about new drivers in China and the moral of the story was that all parents want only success for their children, even if this hope is not apparent to the child in his youth. It was very sweet and a nice cap to the two hours of presentation for the evening. It turned out to be a fairly entertaining night and the discussion groups afterward really put my Chinese skills to the test. We drank tea, talked about what we liked in the presentation, what values we held that related to the anecdotes, and how we thought these types of presentations could be improved.

It was a sweet gathering - a small neighborhood coming together, making friends, and earning a little money on the side. It was nice being welcomed so warmly into their circle. I may be living in a small steel city in China, and very obviously not the 1950s in suburban America, but this manifestation of the nature of the Laiwu community proves the ability of tea and tupperware parties to unite is truly universal.
posted by Rachel @ 4:28 PM  
Monday, October 09, 2006
Ain't No Mountain High Enough
Except maybe this one.


Our magical story begins on a day much like today. For those of you who didn't know, this last week (known as "golden week") in China was work-optional, with National Day falling on October 1st and Zhongqiujie (Mid-Autumn Festival) on the 5th. During the middle of the week, Wang Li An (a friend of mine from here in Laiwu) suggested we go to Tai'an and spend some time with nature, climbing Taishan ("shan"= mountain). It's only a one-and-a-half to two hour bus ride to Tai'an from Laiwu, so it was pretty easy going. We left on Wednesday, October 4th in the morning and arrived in Tai'an a little before lunch. I didn't know until we arrived that we would be staying overnight, so all I had brought with me was water and my fleece. We needed to find a place to settle in for the night since we knew we wouldn't have enough time or energy to climb Taishan that day (after spending the afternoon exploring the city). We visited the Dao Temple in Tai'an and went to see some of the attractions at the base of the mountain, among which included a small amusement park for little kids and a tiger show. We went back to the hotel exhausted after walking around for about six hours on what I'll call "uneven terrain." At the time it seemed a rather arduous hike, but it was nothing compared to what I was about to encounter.

Lili had mentioned that there was a beautiful sunrise over Taishan and that we could make plans to see it. This will be great, I thought. What a beautiful way to end our climbing trip. We talked with the people at the front desk and sorted things out, and I went back to the room and fell asleep. About an hour later, I was awoken by Lili to eat dinner. We ate quickly and bought food for the trip up the mountain. We would be meeting up again at around midnight to go to Taishan and start climbing. But upon returning to my room, after eating and running around, I was no longer tired. This turned out to be a rather unfortunate turn of events, since I would not have the opportunity to sleep (at least not comfortably) for quite some time afterward. After laying in bed restlessly tossing and turning for about 4 hours, I received the wake-up call from the front desk, organized my things, and met Lili in the lobby.

We went outside to wait for a bus but, with all the pushing and shoving that I was too tired to engage in, the first bus filled up before we could get through. As we were waiting for the next bus, two men playing cards outside the hotel's main entrance started trying to engage me in conversation. This was bad timing since I was exceedingly tired and my brain refused to access the entirety of the Chinese language. But I managed to stave them off, giving them just enough Chinese speaking for them to be impressed with what little I knew and to shut them up. We got on the bus to the mountain's base, which then led to another bus. This second bus took you from the base of the mountain to the beginning of the 6,666 steps that lead up to the peak of Taishan. This is not really mountain climbing, but it was still approximately a 2000 meter hike upward - no small task if I do say so myself. It was the middle of the night, and there were no lights on the mountain except the moon, our fellow hikers' flashlights, and the occasional food stand selling fruit, water, and hot soup. As we scaled the mountain, it gradually grew colder and the air thinner. We wanted to keep a good pace so we only stopped once the whole way up to rest our legs and take some deep breaths.

Finally, at about ten minutes to three, we were almost at the top. From where we stood it was only about ten minutes to the highest peak of Taishan. We were sweaty and tired and sore, but happy to have arrived at the place where we would wait for sunrise. When sunrise was close, we would scale the last small portion of the mountain to the vista. However, sunrise was not until almost six a.m., so we still had quite some time to wait. Lili told me to put on my fleece as the body heat that accumulated during the climb would be lost very quickly. I bundled myself in my fleece and we sat. In spite of our warm clothing, we got cold and quickly. Two men were selling large puffy overcoats for 10 kuai each (about $1.25). We bought one to sit on since the stone we were sitting on was freezing. We tried to rest, but it continued to get colder as the moon faded. We bought another jacket to wrap over us as a blanket and we each drifted off, exhausted from the climb, lack of sleep, and extreme cold. I don't believe I've ever endured a longer two-and-a-half hours in my whole life. At last, the time came to climb the final portion. I was more than happy to get the blood flowing again and generate some heat. But when I stood up, my legs and feet would barely move. Each of us took one of the overcoats we had bought, put it on as an extra layer, and began to climb. By this time, there were throngs of people that had accumulated to see the beautiful sunrise - probably more so than usual since it was a holiday week and many Chinese take vacations at this time.

We climbed up through several large boulders and, though a bit frightened of literally falling off the face of the earth since I was so tired and had so little control of my muscles, we slid across one of the rock faces to an empty space with no crowds so we could view the sunrise in relative peace. It took about another twenty-five minutes for sunlight to emerge, but when it did, it rapidly grew brighter. We took out the food we had brought and it was like cultivating a flower - with the combination of food and light, I finally felt awake and alive again. After another fifteen minutes or so, we heard noises from the people below us saying, "chu lai le!" - their meaning was that the sun was coming out from behind the mist. And then there it was. It was distant and small, but fully round and fiery red. And as I felt the warmth of the sun on my face, I forgot the early morning hours of shivering and the misery of what felt like drifting in and out of a comatose state. All I could feel was the warmth of morning. And it was finally worth the climb.

Lili and I sat for a while, eating and talking and resting. At around 7:30, we packed our things and began the climb down. I will concede that going down was considerably easier than climbing up. But our legs were wobbly and our muscles and joints were weak and tired. It took about two hours to climb back to the bottom since we stopped for breakfast at a food stand on the way down. I must say that despite the cold and uncertainty that came with climbing in the dark, there was a certain serenity about the nighttime climb. On the way down, vendors were shoving souveneirs and food in our faces, trying to entice us to buy what we so obviously did not want. But we were too tired to get angry about it. Around 9:30 a.m., we arrived at the platform for the bus that takes you down to the mountain's base. Lili jumped on line to buy tickets for the bus and I went to buy water and then waited for her. As I was waiting, I heard someone say the word waiguoren. I knew, as I always do, that this was referring to me, as I am usually the only foreigner in any given place at any given time in this region of Shandong. I turned to them and said - in Chinese, of course - "I'm an American."

And they nearly had a heart attack.

They could not believe the person they had been talking about actually understood and spoke Chinese. We chatted briefly and they asked to take a picture with me. Lili came back and told us we had the tickets and we needed to go. We took the picture quickly (in which I probably looked like Bigfoot, since I hadn't slept in a full day, had been climbing and sweating since one o'clock in the morning, and hadn't run a comb through my hair in over 12 hours), and then got on line to get on the bus. From the base of the mountain, we caught a cab to the bus station and just as we arrived, there was a bus about to leave for Laiwu. We just managed to catch it (otherwise we would've had to wait another hour) and rested the whole way back to Laiwu.

Upon my return, I promptly ate lunch, returned to my room, and fell into a twenty-hour coma.

THE END.
posted by Rachel @ 11:43 AM  
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Movin' On Up


And anyone who doesn't get THAT reference should get up right now, go sit in the corner, and hang his head in silent shame. That's right. Shame on you.





One of the most exciting things that has happened since I've been here is the sighting of other waiguoren (foreigners) of Western origin in Laiwu. It's happened a handful of times since I've been here. The occasional businessman riding through, some twenty-something guys who seemed to be WAY off the beaten trail, tourists in Shandong on their way to the airport in Jinan. But I never really introduced myself or spoke with them before. Last night however, there was a large group of foreigners (4 altogether - it may not seem like a lot, but it is for Laiwu) sitting at the table in the corner of the dining hall. *note: for those of you who are new or haven't been following, I live in a hotel and eat all my meals for free in their restaurant.

I've become good friends with the servers in the restaurant (all of whom are female), especially since I eat there three times a day. Li Dujuan, one of the girls I meet up with regularly, came up to me and told me that the laowai (usually referring to a foreign adult male, for those unacquainted with Chinese culture) at the corner table wanted to meet me as they had seen me a couple of times before in the dining room.

It turns out, these men were from Arcelor - the world's second largest steel firm that began talks to acquire almost 40% of Laiwu Steel in February of this year - and were delighted to meet the first foreigner to work at Laiwu Steel (a.k.a. me). I had a lovely discussion with them and since I'm going to be part of the team that's working with a new product line, I was able to discuss a lot more with them than if we had met a week prior. This line may go international if it's popular enough, now that there's support from Arcelor, and I may be able to assist in that, which I would love. I met with the Arcelor group onsite today and was able to do some translation duty. The higher-ups in the company speak some English, but oftentimes even their English needs translating. So this has become the beginning of a truly fulfilling week - one that I expected to be rather quiet because of the holidays, but which has actually turned out to be rather busy. I'm just glad to finally be finding a niche here. Even if I continue to move between departments or even cities, I am glad to know I actually have responsibilities. Being here for two weeks with little to do except practice speaking Chinese was absolutely frustrating - and all my fellow overambitious colleagues (you Hopkins kids especially) know exactly what I'm talking about. We feel as though we must be doing something productive always. Well, let's hope that we always are.

As a special side note, L'Shana Tovah - quite a bit late - to all of my Jewish friends out there. No, there is no Chabad or anything like it in Laiwu (one of the most common questions I've received, second only to "How's Laiwu?"), but you're all in my heart for the holidays and December will be around before you know it. For those of you who won't be in Florida in December, well it might be a while. Anyway, to make up for my lack of Judaic inspiration in Laiwu:

"There was a study done by the Harvard School of Psychology on why Jewish women like Chinese food. After many years and focus groups, the study concluded that Jewish women like Chinese food because wonton spelled backwards is not now."
Happy holidays.
posted by Rachel @ 4:03 PM  
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In China, the people are represented by two separate, yet equally important groups. The Chinese, who call this land "home," and the expats who migrate here. My name is Rachel. I am an expat. These are my stories.
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This is a satirical site intended for the entertainment of an online audience. None of the features on this site are real (except in my own distorted view of reality), nor are they intended to harm the subjects mentioned. This site uses fictional names in all its stories, except in cases when public figures are being satirized or when I choose to use this site as a platform for someone's public humiliation (usually my own). Any other use of real names is accidental and coincidental (or purposeful, but with good reason).
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