Pai and back to Chiang Mai, Thailand Part 2

On April 2, 2013January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Travels, Uncategorized11 Comments

Pai, a small town in Thailand’s northern Mae Hong Son province, has that laid-back, coastal paradise feel, only without the coast. Packed dirt roads, grass-roofed shops, and a tightly nestled community surrounded by hills and a lot of green make the place cozy and calm. Once the four of us climbed out of the suicidal driver’s van we hiked through the town and up a dirt path for about a mile or so before coming to a beautiful hostel. The Darling View Point Hostel is a burgundy wooded, clubhouse-looking place designed to keep everyone who stays there in a chill mood. It succeeds. For the first day nothing but Reggae played on the speakers, and I swear at all times there was at least one trekker swaying in a corner to a beat only he could hear. Even the owner, a French guy named Peter, seemed to have been on the down slope of a very substance-friendly lifestyle.

Pai is definitely a place to see in Thailand. The island feel and the scenery alone is worth a two-day stay.

The main building of the hostel we stayed in...I wish I lived there... — The main building of the hostel we stayed in…I wish I lived there…

By far the nicest hostel I've seen so far... — By far the nicest hostel I’ve seen so far…

Although the sleeping arrangements were a bit...eh, who cares, it's a hostel. — Although the sleeping arrangements were a bit…eh, who cares, it’s a hostel.

Once the four of us got checked in at the hostel I walked back into town and rented a Scooter. Within an hour I managed two almost crashes and one legitimate tumble when I attempted to start and turn at the same time. No worries, though, by day three I was riding like a pro…

That first day I just rode around a lot, taking in the area and watching the people. There were so many tourists I had a hard time discerning who was a local and who was just passing through. I ran into the Finnish girl a few times, and even the Chinese couple from Shanghai Dean and I met at the Doi Suthep temple. Maybe it’s just me, but whenever I travel I seem to run into people multiple times. It’s amazing how that can happen. You bump into people once and then find them later on and share a meal and a story with them. Anyone else ever feel that way?

I don’t know what it is about me wanting bags or hats, but every time I go somewhere I seem to want one or the other. In Pai I wanted a hat. A fedora, precisely. So I bought one off a local merchant and haggled her down, but not as good as when I bought the brown bag I was still totting around. And unfortunately I did wear both of them together. I wish I could have gotten a picture of what I must have looked like on the scooter.

The food at the hostel was fantastic and each morning I made sure to get up around 7 and get some. On the second morning I happened to leave my fedora (my awesome fedora) on the table. When I came back for it it was gone. Peter said the tall English guy took it, but swore he’d bring it back later. Apparently the hostel has hats it lends out and the English guy thought this was one of them. On one hand, he’d given his own black fedora to Peter for collateral, so I knew he’d probably be back with it sooner or later. On the other hand, the guy was a loon. The first night we were there we hung out around a fire pit and this guy just kept rambling about this young woman he was traveling with and how she was the sun in his life, the energy and heart that keeps him sane (obviously not so good with the last part). The guy was so burnt-out he made Peter seem like a calm, calculated accountant.

When he did finally come back to the hostel I happened to be around and I asked him for the hat back. He relinquished it easily enough, but the look on his face made it seem like I punched his dog in the face or something. He mumbled again and then spoke up so I could understand him. He asked if I’d be willing to trade for the hat. When I told him I just bought it he looked just barely Okay with the refusal, but then asked me what the story behind it was. I asked him what he meant. “You know, the story, man. What’s the story about this hat? It feels like a story to me.” I told him I just bought it in town and that I doubt it had a story. He persisted by saying, “Well, surely you spoke to the woman you bought it from. Did she say anything about it?” I suppose this would have been a great opportunity to embellish, to say, well, shit, yeah this thing has a GREAT story! Each straw thread used in it had to be carried across war-infested borders, and the little girl who made it sold it as a means to feed her family…I don’t know. I just looked at him and shrugged, put the hat on, and walked away.

Making our way down the "canyon" — Making our way down the “canyon”

Now there's a rickety bridge... — Now there’s a rickety bridge…

Yes, I did indeed by a straw fedora for this trip. What? What? You got somethin' to say 'bout it? — Yes, I did indeed buy a straw fedora for this trip. What? What? You got somethin’ to say ’bout it?

On the second night we hit an actual Reggae concert in town. Along with a few Leo Beers and dancing, the night consisted of meeting a group of Australian girls who gloriously over-used the word, “Oi” to the point that I had to simply walk away from them, a guy with dreadlocks following us around, and a song with a chorus of “do, do, do, do, da, da,” that is still stuck in my head. Pai isn’t a party town at all, but that night we did all right.

The next morning while I was eating breakfast the tall English guy strolled into the common area wearing a tightly wrapped, multi-colored skirt, ankle-high snake skin boots, a woman’s denim jacket, and sunglasses. Clutched in his right hand—at 8 am—was a large Leo and a thin cigarette. He called Peter over to him and told him twice, “You’re name is Peter. That’s like ‘teacher,’ but funnier because you’re funny.”

To his credit, Peter just nodded and continued taking orders for breakfast.

Eventually we all got together and headed out for some trails. We rode for hours, up and down hills, weaving around on the dirt roads and paths. We got to a few waterfalls where we swam for a bit and even one where we did flips off the rocks. I met a Chinese woman named Sara at one of them. She works for Tabao, a Chinese internet company like Ebay. She filmed us jumping around. I’ll link to the video below.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10100624306746462&set=vb.39117303&type=3&theater

On the day I was to catch the 3:30 bus back to Chiang Mai Dean, Brendan, and I went for a hike that was supposed to be like two hours. Four hours later found us deep into the woods where we waded through several twists in the river, trekking deeper and deeper in search of a waterfall. I decided to commit to the hike and just catch the last bus out of Pai, and eventually we made it to the waterfall. Honestly, it was a bit underwhelming, but it was a fun hike through actual forest trails. When we got back to our scooters we careened down the roads until we reached the Hostel. I grabbed my gear and headed into town to arrange my exit strategy.

Once that was done I met up with the guys for lunch and we talked about our plans. Brendan was going home soon like me, but Dave and Dean still had a lot of traveling left to do. It was a good meal—American style Cheese Burger, baby. We said our goodbyes and each of us extended offers for room and board if any of us were in each other’s neighborhood later down the road. At about 7 I said so long to the guys with whom I’d become fast friends and hopped on the bus back to Chiang Mai.

The ride back was just as crazy as the one in, but this time it was in complete darkness. Twice the driver stopped for wild dogs and once for a random herd of cows crossing the road. How he saw them in time to stop I’ll never know. Somehow I slept a little.

I checked back into the Little Bird Hostel I stayed in a few days before and dropped my stuff on the same bunk as before. I was wired, so I headed out. I hit the night bazaar again and wandered around for a while by myself, lost in thought. I felt completely alone for the first time my entire trip. The next day I would be catching a plane to Kunming and the day after that one back to Dalian. I wouldn’t meet random strangers and begin traveling with them again. I couldn’t really chat with the guests at the hostel, either. All of them seemed much busier than the ones who’d been there before. Although Yanis, the French guy who designed those abstract graphs, was still around. I thought about him and how his life seemed perfect. After working in a massage parlor for a year training, he decided to branch out. He figured he could help someone start their own massage place, and that’s just what he did. He helped create a new business and even designed their website. He doesn’t have a lot of money, but the work he did for them keeps him comfortable. One time I remember him complaining that sometimes he even has to work four hours a day! No wonder he possessed such zen calm half the time and reminded me of Garfield the cat the other half.

But as I wandered around on the streets I began thinking about the hostels I’d stayed in throughout some of my recent travels. There were definitely levels to them, but the comfy ones were truly special. The one in Beijing and the one in Pai, those were great. Sure the owners probably weren’t rich, but if it was a good location I’m sure they did all right for themselves. Back at the Little Bird I asked the owner about what it takes to open a hostel in Thailand and he said it was pretty easy. A lot of other Westerners also had book shops or cafes in the area. When I was younger I dated a girl and we sometimes joked about a combination book and café shop we’d someday own. MJ’s Book & Café, we’d call it. Now I wonder if owning a hostel could be possible…

Just as I was deciding on turning in for bed I decided to take a look at the second level of the Little Bird hostel. I’d never been up there, so I just wanted to see. When I got up there two Chinese girls were chatting. I said hi in Chinese and asked how they were. They commented on my Mandarin and asked me to sit with them. We chatted a bit, but it wasn’t long before we switched back to English, my Chinese having run out rather quickly. B. and W. were both traveling, but were friends. W. was studying for a Thai Language test the next morning and B. was just enjoying the evening, thinking about her recent travels to a monastery in Nepal where she met someone and fell in love. After about an hour W. turned in and B. and I walked around the market. I bought a pair of black fisherman pants that looked cool, and got the merchant down more than half. B. was impressed, but I just told her it was from living in China. We walked and talked a lot that evening. We ended up hanging out by the western side of the mote surrounding the town until the night air got a little too cool. She told me about her family, about how her parents couldn’t have children years ago, so they went to a small village and bought her as a baby from a local and raised her as their own. A few years later they finally had a son, but all through childhood B. felt divided, separate from them some how. Originally she wanted to go to Japan, but there were money problems, so that’s how she ended up in Nepal instead. She still seemed determined to make it there some day soon though. I walked her back to her hostel and then I headed back to my room where I fell asleep and dreamed about my family.

The next day I packed up my stuff and decided to lounge around and finally finish the book I was reading, The Psychopath Test. Just as I turned the last page B. walked by. She asked me if I’d seen W. and I said no. She plops down and we chat a few before I ask her if she’s eaten, “Ni chi fan le ma?” It’s a very common question in Chinese. About the closest they get to small talk. In my case, though, I meant it. I was hungry and so was she, so we set out for some lunch. After ten minutes of looking for the “right” Pad Thai place I happened to spot Yanis and asked him for directions. He pointed me down the right alley and soon B. and I were munching on some good Pad Thai. After the meal we said goodbye and I caught a cab to the airport.

I still had one more night before I had to be back in Dalian, so I decided to find something to do once I got to Kunming. When I landed a friend of my friend directed me through texts where to go to catch the right bus to the Youth Hostel. Once I got situated in the room I tossed my stuff on the bunk, changed my shirt, and headed out. I wandered around the streets of Kunming, China’s Spring City, and then found my way into a packed bar. Filled with mostly college students, the place was dark, flashy, and loud. Dancers in wild outfits gyrating and lip-synching to Lady Gaga and Britney Spears, crowds of young Chinese, and one Westerner—Me. I grabbed a drink, stood by a tall table, and within five minutes was invited over to a table with girls and guys all dancing and drinking. Once they learned I could speak to them in Chinese the drinking games began and the dancing and laughing continued. We hung out for a few hours, everyone laughing and joking like we all grew up together.

The next morning I slept in a bit too late and found myself rushing to catch a taxi to the airport in time. Before boarding I sent out a few texts to the people I’d met along the trip. I didn’t worry about goodbyes, just told them how much fun I’d had with them all. And then I got on the plane and headed home to Dalian.

Apartments!

On March 9, 2013January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Travels, Uncategorized, Writing1 Comment

This place had some good space, but it was just too old, and not comfortable. More like an office.

So when the school I was working with closed I had a few months before I needed to move out this past December. The first place I boarded at was at my amazing friend’s Joyce’s. She and another Chinese teacher were sharing a tw0-bedroom and graciously opened their place to me. They made me feel very comfortable, and I really enjoyed hanging out with them a lot there.

But then after two weeks the itch to have my own place was really naggin’ at me. I’ve had a place to call my own for a long time, so rooming up with folks, even as awesome as Joyce and Hill, was not what I ultimately wanted.

I enlisted the help of a friend and together we scoured the area for open places. Eventually we went to an agency to narrow down our choices. They helped, and it all actually felt pretty legit. They answered questions, were flexible, all that fun stuff…

Cozy, but just too far away from where I wanted to be... — Cozy, but just too far away from where I wanted to be…

I had a price range, and distance preferences. They kept those all in mind.

After a handful of days we found a place that wasn’t the greatest looking or newest, but it was perfectly positioned. I have a basic square that I exist in while in Kai Fa Qu and this apt was right smack in the middle of it. Perfect. Price was good. The guy seemed pretty helpful and accommodating. I felt OK handing over six month’s rent from the go. Generally renting contracts are between six months or one year here with many landlords requesting at least six month’s rent up front.

And then I spent a few days in the place. It was cold. The entire wall of connected windows was an obstacle the wind had no problems bypassing and saying, “Haha, hope you like pneumonia, sucker!” Only, it was in Chinese.

Being the ultra handyman that I’m not…I used a big roll of tape and taped those windows up. It actually worked.

But then the small water heater quit working. While I was taking a shower. AND REFUSED TO WORK AGAIN.

The landlord was less than helpful with this development. He wanted me to prove that it broke naturally, you know, wear and tear. Considering I’d never even touched the damn thing, I asked him how he proposed I go about “proving” anything. Have someone look at it, he said. Who, I asked. No answer. And then it occurred to me that it didn’t matter. Anyone I’d get he’d just say wasn’t qualified.

I actually stayed here for a month...until the Landlord became a jerk. — I actually stayed here for a month…until the Landlord became a jerk.

Gotta love a spiral staircase, right? Not when it's in the middle of what should be a living room and leads to a second floor you can't stand straight up on. — Gotta love a spiral staircase, right? Not when it’s in the middle of what should be a living room and leads to a second floor you can’t stand straight up on.

It was at this time my friend revealed to me that the landlord had made a move on her. He called her and said he was in love with her. BAM! Yup. What about your wife, my friend inquired. Oh, my wife? Yeah, buttmunch, your wife. Well, turns out she’s in Japan, so, yeah, alls fair when you’re a creep and stuff. So when my friend just flat out turned him down he insisted they never see each other again. Fine by everybody, trust me.

But then that’s when his Helpful Guy attitude turned to a Resentful Buttnugget Guy attitude.

Back to the heater.

After he refused to simply repair or replace the heater we asked about the price. He jumped around from 1,000RMB to 5,000. His answers varied from having just bought it at a store, just bought it online, and my favorite, having bought it from a friend online (who in no way could produce a receipt of any kind).

So we went to the store. And checked out these heaters. By the way, they are these one foot-by-one foot, two inch thick plastic contraptions that just latch onto your water pipes. The prices were much lower than the 5K. But we weren’t satisfied. We asked the workers if these particular heaters were adequate for shower heating. Not at all. BAM. Didn’t even provide a proper heater. God, I really wanted to kick this guy with my steel-toed boots at this point.

When we called the agency to see if they could do anything about this they were of no help. We went to their offices and complained. Showing them the contract and highlighting where it lists the landlord’s responsibilities did nothing. They already got paid, and not by us. The landlord gave them a percentage of the rent, so we were not their customers. They couldn’t have cared less. Why even sign a contact if the darn thing was useless, we asked. Shrugs. Basically, just shrugs. My list of people to kick was growing.

When we attempted to reason with this landlord ONE MORE TIME he just refused to pay or be of any more “assistance.” When I asked him if something else broke naturally of wear and tear would I have to pay for it, too. He said probably, yes.

I’m Out. I told him fine, I’m moving today. It was 4 something in the afternoon and I spontaneously decided not to be involved with this moron any longer. But where to go?

Back to Joyce’s. I’d been keeping her abreast of the issues I was having and she didn’t even hesitate to offer her place again. She’s amazing.

We packed all my crap up (which fits in one car load) and drove it back to her apt. And then my friend said something. She wondered if the landlord would try to come over tonight and mess with something and then say it was me who broke it so he could shake us down for more money. I immediately decided to spend the last night camped on the couch just to make sure he didn’t try anything. I stayed in the empty place half hoping he showed up. I’d finally get to introduce him to my Pro Steel-Toed boots.

Alas, he never showed, but the idea wasn’t as absurd as it sounds. Before I moved in, but after the utilities were already checked, I stopped by to find three lights in the place on and no one around. Who knows how long the lights were left like that. That was the first sign and I should have heeded it.

I spent that morning going over what I’d say to him when he came back to give me the money he owed me, and I had some choice Chinese phrases I was excited to try out. Then, shortly before he came, my friend reminded me that he could still cause much more trouble for me than I could for him. We didn’t know if he had good Guanxi with anyone, and he could also get my passport info from the agency. In the end I settled for just eyeing the twit the whole time. Even when he tried to stretch a smile across his smarmy fat face I just eyed ’em. It took him a bit, but when I refused his pen and used my own he finally got it. He looked at me, his smile dropped, and just stared back before ducking his head and not making eye contact with me again. Yes, it was childish, but if felt good to ignore his personal space and force him to walk around me when he had to move through the place.

He gyped me some money, but I knew that was going to happen since I was the one to technically break the contract. Whaterver.

When we left I took a deep breath and just tried to let it go, slime and all.

And this is the place I'm currently in. It's small, but clean and completely new. — And this is the place I’m currently in. It’s small, but clean and completely new.

Back to Joyce’s I went, and that’s where I stayed for more than two weeks. I spent Chunjie, Spring Festival alone while she and Hill went back to their hometowns, but on Feb 28th I moved into my new place. The landlords are a married couple who let me pay for only three months rent, and bought all new stuff. Microwave, fridge, TV, couch, desk, shower–all new. And the heater is great.

It feels good to have a place that’s mine once again, not part of a school package or even a loyal friend’s apartment, but all mine. It’s a small place, but it’s good enough for me. I even sweep the floor everyday.

Sha Chen Bao

On March 9, 2013January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Culture, UncategorizedLeave a comment

The floors are level and the walls stand firm on all sides, but even on the tenth floor of my new apartment building the wind ravages the closed windows and doors enough to give the impression the whole place is about to collapse in on itself or crash to the dusty pavement below.

I’m told it’s the beginning of the Spring Time Sha Chen Bao (Sand storms). These nasty, Frank Herbertish sounding pain in the butts generally originate in the Gobi desert, but as they careen through the north of mainland China they kick up a hell of a lot more than dust. Out side my window about thirty-six different plastic bags gyrate and do the jig in the air, loose articles of fabric prance on the currents of wind, and only God knows how much smog is being spread around the whole city. Beijing is much worse, I know, but lately I’m noticing the air quality is getting a bit dicey. The AQI puts Dalian somewhere in the 150s regularly now. That’s considered Very Unhealthy. Shoot, the scale goes up to about 300 and Beijing was ranked around 700 a few weeks back. Good lord, right?

As I write this sentence the wind is rallying outside once again, but this time its presence is felt inside. A loud, high-pitched whistling just cut through the dark, quiet one-bedroom with enough force that it sounded more like the fire alarm…which come to think of it, this apartment doesn’t have. I should remedy that.

Sha Chen Bao, ladies and gentlemen. And it’s just begun. I’ve been told Dalian sometimes doesn’t get it, and I don’t really remember it from last year, but in any case, it’s here now. Beijing has to deal with it for a few weeks to a month on occasion. We might be luckier up in the DongBei area.

This is right out my window. Can’t see any plastic bags, but that’s a bunch of dust right there.

Radio Silence

On November 11, 2012 By JordanIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

I’ve been without a VPN for a long while now, but I’m back.

Sanhuofan

On September 17, 2012January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Culture, Teaching, UncategorizedLeave a comment

San huo fan—a going away meal. The pin yin tones are 4^th, 3^rd, 4^th on the characters. Apart, these three characters translate to “To break away/Dispel,” “Companion,” “Meal.” My current Chinese teacher explained it, too.

“Chi wan fan, fen kai.” “After we eat, we separate.” She said it’s the final meal before moving on.

Last week we had our sanhuofan.

sanhuofanALL — Teachers, Coworkers, None of us strangers and all of us Friends.

I don’t know if it was a traditional one or not because a week later we’re still around. I know that’ll change for many soon, but as for now, we’re still together. The school is in a rocky period of transition that has come upon the heels of news it was closing. A few months ago we were told about the imminent closing of our doors, so people did what people always do: We reacted. For most that meant seeking employment elsewhere—I was/am having meetings with a handful of training schools in the area to secure a steady position. Some of the Chinese staff has already moved on to different jobs and even the Western staff is looking ahead to an immediate future apart from the school. All of this is natural—to be expected—when you tell people the place is shuttin’ down.

As I said, though, transition. The school is not done. The owner has moved out of the country, but a new one is at the helm. Changes abound—some not so good. Customs are a tricky thing, and generally speaking, the school was always been very helpful at bridging those cultural gaps with minimal amounts of inconveniences and annoyances. I’m talking about common business practices, polite social etiquettes, creating good supervisor-employee rapport, and even simple personal boundary manners. Yes, the cultures of the East and West are often times at odds with each other, and yes, you should be sensitive to the practices of the country you’re in and give them priority (maybe), but when you’re working within a company that prides itself on blending the two’s cultures I feel it’s OK to be a little miffed when things start to deteriorate and those holding the reins aren’t listening to the solicited advice they are receiving.

In China (holds breath so as not to make an overly general, borderline insensitive statement), it seems that those in power have this idea that the people who are working for them or who are under their influence don’t have the capability to handle information without it being spun or heavily filtered (and then makes one anyway). With such an emphasis on saving face (mian zi), and a reliance on the social/political/professional benefits of relationships (guan xi), it can be terrifically difficult to get straight answers—or answers at all—from those in high positions, express genuine emotions or even practical advice (even when it’s seriously needed). Anyone who has lived here, and I hope I’m not leaning into the condescending, pedantic territory reserved for those who think they know what they’re talking about, can tell you that these things happen at all levels of employment, and to some extent, personal relationships.

Par for the course, you say? Not a golfer, says I.

But it really is. Color it the price of doing business here or whatever you want, but it does happen, and as a wai guo ren (outside country person: Foreigner), I don’t have a whole lot o’ options. The best I can hope for is that I’m partnered with an organization that is both conscious of the differences between the cultures, and willing to round out the rough edges to make the environment professional and conducive to getting things done properly. Just as a side note, previously, that’s how the school has been run. I’m still holding on to hope for this next chapter.

And…

One year ago today, Noelle and I arrived in China.

A Night at the Movies

On September 3, 2012January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Uncategorized, Writing1 Comment

There’s this list. You know, the one that audiences mark off when they’re watching a movie or reading a story that has a character traveling or going on an adventure. And really, if you’re not aware of it consciously, a part of you recognizes pieces of it as the events begin to unfold. Here, I’ll prove it.

Character is in a new city (heck, could even be a jungle, doesn’t matter). He/She:

A) Finds the destination easily because the map purchased is an up-to-date work of cartographic genius.

B) Decides to just chill in the block around the hotel without venturing out farther (or swings from a hammock fashioned from vines hanging from the ginormous trees).

C) Gets lost at least once, usually through some humorous fault of his/her own (and will be just one of the many times things like this happens).

Answer: C, right?

Again…

Character gets roped into hanging with friends he/she doesn’t really know all that well. He/She:

A) Leaves the scene early and goes back to the hotel/apartment/jungle hut.

B) Realizes there’s no one he/she has anything in common with, so consumes copious amounts of alcohol in the corner of the room…

C) Forges a few actual, meaningful relationships because he/she is stretching, growing, and living in the moment.

C again, right? (Really, it’s just easier for me to make all the answers C)

OK…Maybe I’m not good at doing the quiz thing, but you gotta admit (maybe), there are certain staples to the traveling movie/fiction genre. Someone gets lost, sick or injured, new friends are made, self-discoveries abound, and things get stolen…

These things happen in just about every movie or book like this, ever. I’m definitely the type to romanticize things and give a little slack to my tether holding me to reality, but I’ll be honest, not all of those things are fun. In fact, there’s a good chunk of them that just suck. I’ve had kidney stones here (THAT nightmare has been documented on this blog), Noelle and I have gotten lost in Beijing, we’ve been ripped off….and now I’ve had my wallet stolen, right after I went to the ATM, I might add.

A friend from Scotland recently offered, “Congrats on you theft baptism ;)” when I posted a message stating that I’d just gotten my wallet stolen. I don’t know if that means I had it coming sooner or later, but it does seem odd that none of the people who commented after her seemed surprised.

Here’s what happened. It was Monday night and my friend and I had gone to the movies. We stayed until the credits rolled through, hoping for some extra—every movie nowadays has a little something at the end, ya know? But no, not a thing. We left, the last two from the audience. The only others in there were two ushers, cleaning.

We took the escalators down the four flights and saunter out into the humid night air, me thinking about the flick and how to express my thoughts in Chinese, and also contemplating a late dinner. The latter thought got the best of me, and when I reached into my back pocket to take a look at what remained of my funds my heart did that pause-between-beats-and-turn-to-ice-before-sinking-to-the-stomach combo. My wallet was gone.

I had no difficulty telling my friend in Chinese this particular problem. I didn’t wait for a response. I ran back to the theater, trying to keep enough attention on the placement of my sandals (the ground is super slick in some areas and my sandals are new and prone to slipperiness). This time I ascended to the fourth floor with the help of the elevator attached to the building’s outside.

I ran in, told the workers my issue, and was quickly waved toward the room I’d just spent the last two hours and forty minutes. Lights on and not a soul around, I searched to no avail. Two others helped, and then my friend joined us. And then we left, my friend taking the reins on the explanation and interrogation of the employees. They were of no help, mostly. Although at some point we all walked back in and looked around again for the fun of it.

Eventually, we called the cops. Not entirely sure why. I had no silent hope that they’d be able to get my wallet back to me…and they didn’t. They came, gave me the Eye, talked to my friend, nodded to me a few times, talked to the manager on duty, and then talked to my friend again. But this time it was like we were the ones putting them off. Seriously. They even turned to me and asked if I’d been drinking. I didn’t say anything. I just gave the cop my version of the T1000’s death stare and shook my head. After a few more minutes when it was obvious they were just wasting our time AND arguing with my friend, I stopped them by saying, “What’s wrong? If someone took my wallet there’s nothing you can do now, so why are you arguing with us?” In Chinese I’m sure a few things were a bit off, but it felt good to say it anyway.

My roommate helped me cancel my bank card, I cancelled my credit cards, but I still need to contact the BMV about my stolen, expired license. Really hoping that doesn’t come back and bite me later. I’ve since requested a new card from the bank here and for three days was getting by on money loaned by my roommate. I still can’t touch my account even by going directly to the bank, but I have enough for the essentials until next Friday (when I’ll theoretically get my bank card).

But, my point is, The Dark Knight Rises was good.

Class Photos

On August 12, 2012January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Teaching, UncategorizedLeave a comment

SK1SK4pics 003 — SK1, Each of the kids got a chance to take a picture, so in each shot one of them is missing.

I wanted to put a few more pictures up with a few of my students. This group of shots is from this weekend. Three classes: SK1, SK4 a, and SK4 b. I know you’re not supposed to have favorites, but every teacher knows that’s just not practical. These kids are definitely some of my favorites!

SK1SK4pics 009 — Betty helping Aiden and Jeniffer.

SK1SK4pics 013 — Lily and Aiden kept trying to cover my face in each of these shots.

SK1SK4pics 015 — Betty with the little runts. I do love these kids.

SK1SK4pics 017 — Tom tried to cover my face…again….But I managed to outsmart the eight year old.

SK1SK4pics 018 — Seriously…one of my favorite classes I’ve taught here at Jayland this year.

SK1SK4pics 021 — Will and Sophia…My other SK4 class. These two boogers are “hen congming” (Very smart! *In Pin Yin*)

SK1SK4pics 023 — He slowly slipped all the way off and eventually just collapsed on the floor…Haha…He’s a goof.

SK1SK4pics 028 — We’re missing a few of our usual students, but we still make it work.

SK1SK4pics 031 — I think Sophia is trying to eat me here….?

Activities At Jayland

On August 8, 2012January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Teaching, Uncategorized1 Comment

Great WallToNoelle'sLastDay 365 — Our May Activity: A Picnic in Tong Niu Ling. We had two big groups spread out playing games, snacking on chips, and learning to make Peanut Butter and Jelly! A lot of parents showed up, so it was a big crowd. Weather was nice, the kids weren’t too crazy, and most people had smiles. Good day.

It’s been a while since I posted some pictures, so here are a handful. Enjoy.

Great WallToNoelle'sLastDay 372 — Joyce explaining the intricacies of peanut butter spreading.

Great WallToNoelle'sLastDay 376 — A few of my students with Betty. I swear they were smiling before and after this picture!

Great WallToNoelle'sLastDay 377 — Noelle with her Orin

July-August6h2012 013 — An August Summer Camp Activity

July-August6h2012 024 — They sold out of the lemonade in like thirty minutes!

July-August6h2012 027 — She never smiles!!!! One of my SK4 students.

Great WallToNoelle'sLastDay 389 — Erika’s going away dinner. She’s back in Canada now, but not for long. She’s heading to France for a year!

Great WallToNoelle'sLastDay 384 — This is our, “too cool to look at the camera Album cover group shot.”

Fenghuang

On July 31, 2012January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Culture, Uncategorized, WritingLeave a comment

Fenghuang, the Phoenix, from ashes is it reborn. In Western mythology this amazing creature is a symbol of life after hardships. In Chinese tradition it’s used to symbolize high virtue and grace, but it’s also seen during new beginnings, eras of rebirth. Along with the dragon (long), the koi carp (li yu), the Phoenix holds special significance here in the Middle Kingdom. There’s even a tongue twister that talks about gold and silver phoenixes being born in Phoenix mountain (fenghuang shan li sheng fenghuang jin fenghuang yin fenghuang…)

The dragon is power and strength. How can it not be? Flying, freaky, fiery breath to incinerate obstacles and adversaries–this mammoth beast is viewed not only as a powerful entity, but one of benevolence and wisdom in China. The Dragon was actually used as a symbol for the Emperor for a long time, and even today there are idioms such as, “Hoping your son will be a dragon.” The creature is not the miserly hoarder of English legend by any stretch of the imagination.

The koi carp–the only one of these three animals to actually exist outside of legend–represents fortune and good luck. If I had to pick an animal to embody my prosperity I think I’d select something a bit more aggressive or intimidating, maybe an animal known for its intelligence–the fox or a bird of prey, a wolf even. The owl is out since in China it’s viewed as a bad omen by many people. And perhaps the wolf is out, too. There’s a term “se lang” (color wolf) that basically translates into English as “pervert.” The fox, on the other hand, already has a special place in Chinese legends. When an animal lives long enough, gains enough wisdom, or is given enough power (all depending on the telling of it) the animal can turn into a human. In some stories they’re immortal and in others they’re sort of like spirits or demons, but the most famous of these unique animals is the Fox Lady. She shows up in stories, pop culture, and even in a recently released Chinese movie I saw at the theater. The other lucky animal to have been granted a human form is the snake–again, viewed by many in Asia as a wise and noble creature. Anyway, at least the animal some credit for their good fortune each year ( there’s a phrase that goes “nian nian you yu,” every year there is some, that refers to the harvest and the fish–Yu–at the same time) is a real one. You can see the multi-colored fish hanging in store windows, neighbors’ doors, inside buses, and even in taxis. Maybe that fact, that it’s real, gives the superstition some girth, something for belief to get behind. Or maybe it’s the koi carp because it’s a prosperous sea creature that’s been fished and bred in this country for thousands of years and people just decided on it by a majority vote. Who knows?

But the phoenix, like in Western tales, is life renewed. Chinese legends say it is the balancing force of yang, the dragon. As yin, it evens out the field and acts as a counter weight. Life and death, good and evil. Seen in times of new beginnings, this animal has to be positive. No matter the path before or even how the path ended, rebirth symbolizes hope, a future forged from ashes left when a fire wore itself out. All fires run their course, some longer then others, and some have enough force to alter the landscape irrevocably. But all fires fall to cinders and ashes, and I’ve heard that ash has a way of revitalizing the soil by bringing nutrients back that were scorched away. Whether it be flowers or a phoenix, life does return, reborn from the very elemental power that wanted so much to wipe it from the face of the earth.

My first year in China is nearly at its end, but the thought or returning home is still far away. Fires have indeed burned and charred some of the terrain, and recent blazes still rage, but along the edges where the ash has settled life is already being renewed.

Chinese-Folk-Paper-Cut-Art-Chinese-Dragon-and-Phoenix-Showed-Auspicious — This type of paper art can be seen everywhere in China. I have a friend who is particularly good at making these. This one is of a Dragon-Long-and a Phoenix-Fenghuang. Together they symbolize Yin and Yang.

Cookie Activity Pictures

On January 29, 2012January 7, 2014 By JordanIn Teaching, Uncategorized2 Comments

Kidsandcookies — A handful of students at one of the “Cookie-making” tables.

As promised, some photos from the cookie making activity on Christmas night. These are just a handful. It takes forever to upload pictures with this internet connection, so I know I’ll have a ton of shots to share later when we get back to the states.

For most of the students this was their first time making cookies. For some it was their first time eating chocolate chip cookies (THE BEST COOKIES IN THE WORLD).