It's been way too long, friends, but nothing's really happened. In fact the only purpose of this update is for me to bitch about China's clubbing culture. Get excited, it's gonna be great.
1912 is Nanjing's bar district. There are random other bars floating around, but this is the best place to go clubbing because if one club gets boring, no problem, just hop in next door! The club we most frequent is Mazzo, and because we've been there so often, we've made friends with a few of the managers who can get us a table on really busy nights.
So last night, we splurged for sushi (and by splurged I mean we spent 150 RMB each...or about $22) and headed over to Mazzo...where it was packed wall to wall with people.
In the States, if a ton of people are packed together in a club and someone bumps you, usually that person will turn around and say sorry or make some sort of apologetic gesture or roll their eyes at the drunk person who pushed them into you so you both laugh about it or something like that. In China, not so much. If they bump into you, they slam into you, and when you turn around, they glare at you like it's your fault--how dare you be in their way?
In short, I've perfected my foreign bitchface here, due mostly to these situations. Last night, I was literally smushed between 10 Chinese people, all of them shoving at me and generally being obnoxious. Finally, once my frustration level had gone to 11, I stuck out my elbows, enacted the foreign bitchface and powered through. I stepped on all of their feet, got quite a few dirty looks that were returned, but I got that line to move.
And now it's time for a feminist rant.
The way women--all women, not just Chinese women--are treated here is disgusting. I'm not saying that in the US, women are treated perfectly, because obviously nowhere is perfect. But being in China has once again made me appreciate America so much more than when I'm actually in America. Last night I saw two Indian guys with a Chinese girl in between them, literally holding her there--when the song was over, she peaced immediately and I saw her shaking her head at her friend. I've had my rear end grabbed on more than one occasion--sometimes not even on the dance floor, when I'm just trying to get through a crowd of people.
And it's assumed that because you're out on the dance floor, you want some random guy trying to grind with you. No, I'm here with my friends and I've actively moved away from you more than once, and it's not because I want you to chase me, it's because I'm try to get away from you! Story of my life.
Okay, rant is over.
To end this on a lighter note, I went for a run yesterday, but the track wasn't open yet so I decided to run in the area around Nanjing. You would've thought I was some celebrity the way people stared and gawked at me. The reason: white girl with blonde hair, wearing shorts, running. People reacted as though I was running from something, and maybe they should be running too. "Yes, in fact I am running from Godzirra."
My parents are coming to China in 2 days!! Just so everyone knows. Yay!
April 24, 2010
April 5, 2010
清明节
This weekend was 清明节, also known as the Tomb-Sweeping Holiday. During 清明节, people go to the graves of their relatives and burn paper in the shape of things they think said dead relative might want or need in Heaven (the more elaborate, the better). But instead of burning paper cars for my relatives, I went to Beijing to see some of my favorite people!
When I last saw my little godsister Jia Jia she looked like this:
And now she looks like this:
In other words the most adorable child ever.
I arrived in Beijing on Friday night, and after discussing Google, the American stock market crisis and 成语 (Chinese four character idioms) with Pong, I got to see Cong Cong (who might as well be my little brother) and Jia Jia. We had homemade hotpot for dinner and Pong told me that on Saturday we would go to the mall after Cong Cong's violin lessons.
It was at this mall on Saturday that God gave me my Easter present:
Major League in Beijing.
Cong Cong and I posed as baseball players: (Braves and Red Sox, respectively).
And we ate lunch at a sports bar called Allstar (they had ESPN, I almost died) where I inhaled the most legit Mexican food in all of China, so it was basically my perfect day.
On Sunday, Pong told me we might go to see the Summer Palace, or we might go to 香山 (Fragrant Mountain). As it turned out, everyone in Beijing and their mother was at the Summer Palace, so we went to 爬香山 (climb Fragrant Mountain). As we're walking up to the mountain, I'm thinking this mountain won't be any big deal, since I 爬ed 老山 in Qingdao last summer, and there's no way 香山 is tougher than 老山. We arrive at the beginning of the "trail" (in China, you don't really climb a mountain, you climb stairs) and to my surprise, Pong and Jia Jia wave good-bye to us. I don't know what I was thinking, because of course an 18-month old can't climb a mountain, so it was just me and the boys.
Let me give y'all some explanation of the Chinese way of mountain climbing. As I said, it's less climbing than it is doing a Stairmaster, and there's no concept of keeping to your right. People going down the mountain drift over to where people trying to climb up the mountain are trying to walk, everyone's chatting on cell phones, and there's very little room to move.
Anyway, I was pretty badly dressed (in my opinion) for this climb because the only remotely athletic shoes I brought to Beijing were my Converse. But apparently I was even more badly dressed than I first realized. It seems that mountain climbing attire in China consists of heeled boots, tights and a dress:
And of course, there was this poor child, who had decided that he was really craving some roasted squid:
As I'm climbing this mountain (with old ladies speeding past me), several thoughts went through my head, most of them not very nice. For example: "Why can't Chinese just take the American view of mountain climbing? Don't do it unless you're Rachel Johnson." And "If you look at me again, I'll push you off this thing." And "I hate this. Why am I doing this? I hate this."
And of course, like most mountains, the view makes up for the tortuous climb (there's a life metaphor in there somewhere).
Once we manage to climb back down the mountain, my legs screaming at me and my feet bemoaning my lack of appropriate footwear, Pong and Jia Jia meet us at the nearby park, where Pong tells me, "It's a very difficult climb, one of the most difficult. I didn't think you'd make it. . . I thought you would come back halfway." 香山 may have owned my entire lower body but I made it (later I found out that compared to 香山， 老山 is a piddly baby mountain. If I had known that beforehand...).
Today, before my flight left at 2, Pong, Qing, Jia Jia, Cong Cong and I went to this shopping street that is right behind Tiananmen Square and is built in the Ming and Qing style.
Anyway, now it's back to the grind. . . but my next break is so soon--the end of April! And my parents are meeting me in 西安 (Xi'an)! Yay!
When I last saw my little godsister Jia Jia she looked like this:
And now she looks like this:
In other words the most adorable child ever.
I arrived in Beijing on Friday night, and after discussing Google, the American stock market crisis and 成语 (Chinese four character idioms) with Pong, I got to see Cong Cong (who might as well be my little brother) and Jia Jia. We had homemade hotpot for dinner and Pong told me that on Saturday we would go to the mall after Cong Cong's violin lessons.
It was at this mall on Saturday that God gave me my Easter present:
Major League in Beijing.
Cong Cong and I posed as baseball players: (Braves and Red Sox, respectively).
And we ate lunch at a sports bar called Allstar (they had ESPN, I almost died) where I inhaled the most legit Mexican food in all of China, so it was basically my perfect day.
On Sunday, Pong told me we might go to see the Summer Palace, or we might go to 香山 (Fragrant Mountain). As it turned out, everyone in Beijing and their mother was at the Summer Palace, so we went to 爬香山 (climb Fragrant Mountain). As we're walking up to the mountain, I'm thinking this mountain won't be any big deal, since I 爬ed 老山 in Qingdao last summer, and there's no way 香山 is tougher than 老山. We arrive at the beginning of the "trail" (in China, you don't really climb a mountain, you climb stairs) and to my surprise, Pong and Jia Jia wave good-bye to us. I don't know what I was thinking, because of course an 18-month old can't climb a mountain, so it was just me and the boys.
Let me give y'all some explanation of the Chinese way of mountain climbing. As I said, it's less climbing than it is doing a Stairmaster, and there's no concept of keeping to your right. People going down the mountain drift over to where people trying to climb up the mountain are trying to walk, everyone's chatting on cell phones, and there's very little room to move.
Anyway, I was pretty badly dressed (in my opinion) for this climb because the only remotely athletic shoes I brought to Beijing were my Converse. But apparently I was even more badly dressed than I first realized. It seems that mountain climbing attire in China consists of heeled boots, tights and a dress:
And of course, there was this poor child, who had decided that he was really craving some roasted squid:
As I'm climbing this mountain (with old ladies speeding past me), several thoughts went through my head, most of them not very nice. For example: "Why can't Chinese just take the American view of mountain climbing? Don't do it unless you're Rachel Johnson." And "If you look at me again, I'll push you off this thing." And "I hate this. Why am I doing this? I hate this."
And of course, like most mountains, the view makes up for the tortuous climb (there's a life metaphor in there somewhere).
Once we manage to climb back down the mountain, my legs screaming at me and my feet bemoaning my lack of appropriate footwear, Pong and Jia Jia meet us at the nearby park, where Pong tells me, "It's a very difficult climb, one of the most difficult. I didn't think you'd make it. . . I thought you would come back halfway." 香山 may have owned my entire lower body but I made it (later I found out that compared to 香山， 老山 is a piddly baby mountain. If I had known that beforehand...).
Today, before my flight left at 2, Pong, Qing, Jia Jia, Cong Cong and I went to this shopping street that is right behind Tiananmen Square and is built in the Ming and Qing style.
Anyway, now it's back to the grind. . . but my next break is so soon--the end of April! And my parents are meeting me in 西安 (Xi'an)! Yay!
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