Because I have a tendency to ramble, my posts usually end up on some tangential topic that has nothing to do with the purpose of this blog (not having to repeat the answer to "hey! how's China?" to a gazillion different people). So, here's a picture (with pictures!) of what day-to-day life here is like:
Our schedule differs from day to day, depending on my teaching hours. Only one day a week do I actually have to wake up early to get to class, but it makes me have WAY more sympathy for when John had to open at Starbucks. He had to get out of a big comfy bed in our warm cozy house to scrape ice off his car at 3:30 AM. I have to wake up at 6:30 and it's probably easier to get out of bed anyways than to try to contort my body to keep it under the too short blankets (apparently I am a giant in China) and away from the steady drip leaking out of the ceiling. Also, it's a constant 60 degrees, so there's no scraping ice off of my bike.I do have to be a little careful what I touch and where I step as it appears most of my neighbors use their morning elevator ride to clear their throats and their noses.
Thankfully most of it ends up on this advertisement...they seem to have something against this lady.
I could ride my electric scooter, but I bike most days because it's good exercise and also because no matter where I leave the scooter parked, the garage attendant moves it to the farthest and most inaccesible reaches of the scooter dungeon. My guess is that there's a little anti-foreigner sentiment involved since nearly every Chinese person thinks nearly every white person is filthy rich, so the Chinese people with really crappy jobs tend to harbor a little resentment. The stereotype is stupid, but the resentment makes total sense. The man has not only has to work 5 AM to midnight every day, but he and his family actually live there. They've framed out a corner of the garage into a little room with two beds,
This is their grandma, who appears to live with them as well. The mom is the one building a fire in the old pot
they cook their meals on a hotplate and their little boy just sits on a stool in the garage and watches TV whenever he's not at school. Cohen and Winnie of course thought this made him the luckiest kid in the world, but they're slowly wrapping their heads around the fact that they are actually lucky to have a home/food/toys/family because it's not assumed that everybody does. We had a discussion about homeless people the other day after seeing a man sleeping on one of the rails of the train tracks and I think their little minds nearly exploded. ("Why does he not have a house?" "When will he build a house?" "Where is his mama?").
What doesn't make total sense is why the garage attendant doesn't learn that I always set off the alarms on at least three other scooters, knock one over and still end up needing his help to get out of the garage. It would make everyone's life easier to let me park in the front.
So, I usually end up biking. The only downside of the bike is that when I bike, I get thirsty, when I get thirsty, I have to drink water, when I drink water, I have to pee, and when I have to pee, I have to use a squatty potty that has no door. John thinks this isn't such a big deal, but I'm pretty sure any other girl will agree with me that it's a little weird. If I were in the states, I would usually remind myself that no one cares enough to pay attention to me, but since I'm white, I actually am a novelty and people are pretty shameless about staring (or yelling "hello!" or asking for pictures). I've learned to ignore it, in spite of the fact that it should be extremely offensive (what if I were to walk down the streets of Chicago staring and pointing at Asian people and yelling "nihao!"?) but it still makes things like nursing a baby or peeing without a door a little weird
There's no way I could describe what commuting here is like, but I will tell you that in 7 months of work, I've been hit/hit someone else at least 6 times. No one is ever really at a speed where it is really dangerous, but the most important rule of the road here is (and I am quoting a Chinese friend) 1. Never ever look anywhere but straight in front of you (this includes never checking your blind spots, looking both ways before you cross, etc.) Basically everyone is responsible only for the space directly in front of them and you are responsible for honking perpetually in order to let every other driver know that you will be occupying that space. Honking="passing you on the right/left," "merging into/out of the bike lane/sidewalk" "I'm blowing off this stop light" "I'm driving down the road the wrong way" etc. This makes sense because the roads are so bad that you have to be perpetually scanning the road in front of you for potholes, construction pits, sparks and debris from overhead construction and open manholes. So if you imagine that you were in a perpetually merging construction zone where no one was beholden to any kind of rules, then throw in a few of these:
And these:
In an effort to make things more civilized, they've put up signs prohibiting everything from spitting,
to setting off fireworks out of your car. They've also hired people to wander around and sweep the dust from all the construction into neat little piles and to sweep puddles into....other puddles? 
I'm not really sure how it works. They also have people directing traffic, which means they stand around whistling and waving their hands arbitrarily while everyone carries on doing exactly what they were doing.
As for my actual job....it's difficult and somewhat disheartening but it has its bright spots as well. Teaching is difficult because I'm supposed to be teaching standard American High School content to students who have little to none of the standard skills of standard American High School students (critical thinking ability, the ability to infer anything, the ability to do anything that a teacher hasn't recited to them and made them regurgitate for a test, the ability to compose a coherent sentence in English, etc.) They compensate for their lacking abilities through some very creative cheating methods and a lot of Google Translate. The result is at least amusing for me, whether they use Google Translate and come up with sentences like "I am very enthusiastic and virile about math" or if they try to do the work on their own and write a question, answer and summary of Cinderella as follows me "Q:why does Cinderella loves with the Prince? A:six. Summary: Hippy"
The really disheartening, but far more meaningful work is the student counseling I get to do. An 11 year old boy I was counseling summed up the plight of most Chinese children pretty well when he was trying to explain his relationship with his dad. He told me an old Chinese story about a man who planted a rosebush and, very eager for it to grow, watered it, pruned it and watched it intently. Finally impatient with its slow progress, he started to tug at it, and as it lifted slightly out of the ground and appeared to grow larger, he began to tug harder and harder. Of course, the boy was the rosebush and, of course, the story ends with the rosebush getting yanked out of the ground and dying. This is essentially the story I hear from most of my students, though some parents are far less involved, since they figure they are wealthy enough to hire a gardener to tend their roses. Within the framework where children are essentially an investment in the parent's retirement fund, this approach makes sense. The more money they spend on their children, the higher the return. Their actual presence is not really necessary. Some of my 15-17 year old students have flunked out of the school in their hometown, so their parents rent them an apartment in Kunming and ship them off to go to our school. Of course the students fail to eat or sleep since they have never shopped, cooked or had to be responsible for their own well being and behavior in any way and spend their days and nights playing computer games. When our school contacted a student's parents to say their kid was starving and sleep deprived and incapable of living on his own, his parents responded that it was really not "convenient" for one of them to be required to live with the student. When informed that the student failed and would be unable to graduate, they just asked "how much will it cost?" Ummm... he FAILED. He did not complete his work. He cannot continue to the next grade. "Yes, so how much will we have to pay?" The good news is, some of them can turn things around. My little rosebush boy now asks his parents for what he needs, so his father has become less critical and gives him more affirmation and independence. He doesn't fight with his classmates as much and he tells me he no longer cries himself to sleep at night because he's starting to believe his parents love him.
When we're home, which is most of the time, since I only work 16 hours a week (yes, this is why the resentment of the hardworking Chinese garage guy is justified) the kids have gotten to be very creative artists and builders (since their only toys are blocks, legos, crayons and markers) and have also gotten very spoiled about having both parents home nearly all the time. Cohen asked me why I didn't work as an inventor, and then create a food machine, so then I wouldn't have to go to work to pay for our groceries. Then he would work as a builder and build us a house and we would never have to work again. I felt guilty for a second until I realized that they actually have 1 1/2 stay at home parents so they really don't have much to complain about.
China isn't a particularly kid friendly place-no neighborhood parks or forest preserves or places to go apple-picking, but we still get to take them out to the park,
The other night I was laying down with Cohen while he planned his building endeavors for the next day. He asked where we could buy pipes and stone to build a fountain like he had seen earlier and I told him there was a store in America where they sold it. His eyes got really wide. "Really? A store that sells building stuff?" "Yeah, they have everything you need. Pipes, wood, tools, stone. Even stuff you need for your house, like sinks and counters and cabinets." I don't think Cohen understood why I was saying this so lightly because, to him, I had just dropped a bombshell. "You mean they have EVERYTHING!?!?! Like wires for electricity? And tiles and paint and glue? And pipes for the sinks? And do they give you constructions (instructions) for building it? What is the store called?!?!"
"Menards."
He spent the rest of the night rolling over every 2 minutes to make sure he could remember the name right so he could ask John about it in the morning. "Mards?" "Menards." (2 minutes of silence) "Bards?" "Menards." (2 minutes of silence) "What was it called again?" "Menards." Now he draws pictures every day of what he will build when he can go to this magical place called "Menards" and has one more reason he can't wait to go back to America. The other day he told me he was "tired of China." Not in a whiny "why can't I watch TV all day like that kid" way, but he just seemed weary of it, which I am too some days. If there was a way to take a quarter life retirement in the US and just enjoy our little kids while they're young, rather than remembering it as a stressful and sleep-deprived haze, I would do it.
Friends who have been here for a while say you get used to it, but I can't help noticing they all seem a little sad and isolated and overwhelmed. I'm not saying a lot of people in the US aren't like that, but there's just a level of stress and stimulation that comes of a bunch of people living on top of each others heads in a crazy, crowded and competitive environment that people's brains and souls just shouldn't be able to tolerate, no matter what they're used to. I know I didn't live in the city before, but just in my commute to work I've seen more physical fights than I've ever seen in my life and I've witnessed several of what looked like total nervous breakdowns. Not someone strung out on drugs out on the street acting crazy but what looks like professional men or women completely losing their heads, screaming, writhing, hitting at anyone who was trying to contain them. The other day while I was biking home I saw what looked like a mid-thirties woman in a power suit and heels with her hands wrapped around a light post shrieking and violently banging her forehead against it while her husband/brother/boyfriend tried to hold her back. Like I said, I didn't live in the city before where I saw all kinds of people everywhere, everyday, but there's something here that puts people on or over the brink of totally losing it. This is why we stay home with our kids all day:)
I suppose instead of one tangent, that turned into a whole slew of tangents. I'll do my best to be more concise next time:)
Thankfully most of it ends up on this advertisement...they seem to have something against this lady.I could ride my electric scooter, but I bike most days because it's good exercise and also because no matter where I leave the scooter parked, the garage attendant moves it to the farthest and most inaccesible reaches of the scooter dungeon. My guess is that there's a little anti-foreigner sentiment involved since nearly every Chinese person thinks nearly every white person is filthy rich, so the Chinese people with really crappy jobs tend to harbor a little resentment. The stereotype is stupid, but the resentment makes total sense. The man has not only has to work 5 AM to midnight every day, but he and his family actually live there. They've framed out a corner of the garage into a little room with two beds,
This is their grandma, who appears to live with them as well. The mom is the one building a fire in the old potthey cook their meals on a hotplate and their little boy just sits on a stool in the garage and watches TV whenever he's not at school. Cohen and Winnie of course thought this made him the luckiest kid in the world, but they're slowly wrapping their heads around the fact that they are actually lucky to have a home/food/toys/family because it's not assumed that everybody does. We had a discussion about homeless people the other day after seeing a man sleeping on one of the rails of the train tracks and I think their little minds nearly exploded. ("Why does he not have a house?" "When will he build a house?" "Where is his mama?").
What doesn't make total sense is why the garage attendant doesn't learn that I always set off the alarms on at least three other scooters, knock one over and still end up needing his help to get out of the garage. It would make everyone's life easier to let me park in the front.
So, I usually end up biking. The only downside of the bike is that when I bike, I get thirsty, when I get thirsty, I have to drink water, when I drink water, I have to pee, and when I have to pee, I have to use a squatty potty that has no door. John thinks this isn't such a big deal, but I'm pretty sure any other girl will agree with me that it's a little weird. If I were in the states, I would usually remind myself that no one cares enough to pay attention to me, but since I'm white, I actually am a novelty and people are pretty shameless about staring (or yelling "hello!" or asking for pictures). I've learned to ignore it, in spite of the fact that it should be extremely offensive (what if I were to walk down the streets of Chicago staring and pointing at Asian people and yelling "nihao!"?) but it still makes things like nursing a baby or peeing without a door a little weird
There's no way I could describe what commuting here is like, but I will tell you that in 7 months of work, I've been hit/hit someone else at least 6 times. No one is ever really at a speed where it is really dangerous, but the most important rule of the road here is (and I am quoting a Chinese friend) 1. Never ever look anywhere but straight in front of you (this includes never checking your blind spots, looking both ways before you cross, etc.) Basically everyone is responsible only for the space directly in front of them and you are responsible for honking perpetually in order to let every other driver know that you will be occupying that space. Honking="passing you on the right/left," "merging into/out of the bike lane/sidewalk" "I'm blowing off this stop light" "I'm driving down the road the wrong way" etc. This makes sense because the roads are so bad that you have to be perpetually scanning the road in front of you for potholes, construction pits, sparks and debris from overhead construction and open manholes. So if you imagine that you were in a perpetually merging construction zone where no one was beholden to any kind of rules, then throw in a few of these:
And these:
A whole lot of these:
(and yes, maybe a few ladies hacking off fish heads on the train tracks, just for good measure)
In an effort to make things more civilized, they've put up signs prohibiting everything from spitting,
As for my actual job....it's difficult and somewhat disheartening but it has its bright spots as well. Teaching is difficult because I'm supposed to be teaching standard American High School content to students who have little to none of the standard skills of standard American High School students (critical thinking ability, the ability to infer anything, the ability to do anything that a teacher hasn't recited to them and made them regurgitate for a test, the ability to compose a coherent sentence in English, etc.) They compensate for their lacking abilities through some very creative cheating methods and a lot of Google Translate. The result is at least amusing for me, whether they use Google Translate and come up with sentences like "I am very enthusiastic and virile about math" or if they try to do the work on their own and write a question, answer and summary of Cinderella as follows me "Q:why does Cinderella loves with the Prince? A:six. Summary: Hippy"
The really disheartening, but far more meaningful work is the student counseling I get to do. An 11 year old boy I was counseling summed up the plight of most Chinese children pretty well when he was trying to explain his relationship with his dad. He told me an old Chinese story about a man who planted a rosebush and, very eager for it to grow, watered it, pruned it and watched it intently. Finally impatient with its slow progress, he started to tug at it, and as it lifted slightly out of the ground and appeared to grow larger, he began to tug harder and harder. Of course, the boy was the rosebush and, of course, the story ends with the rosebush getting yanked out of the ground and dying. This is essentially the story I hear from most of my students, though some parents are far less involved, since they figure they are wealthy enough to hire a gardener to tend their roses. Within the framework where children are essentially an investment in the parent's retirement fund, this approach makes sense. The more money they spend on their children, the higher the return. Their actual presence is not really necessary. Some of my 15-17 year old students have flunked out of the school in their hometown, so their parents rent them an apartment in Kunming and ship them off to go to our school. Of course the students fail to eat or sleep since they have never shopped, cooked or had to be responsible for their own well being and behavior in any way and spend their days and nights playing computer games. When our school contacted a student's parents to say their kid was starving and sleep deprived and incapable of living on his own, his parents responded that it was really not "convenient" for one of them to be required to live with the student. When informed that the student failed and would be unable to graduate, they just asked "how much will it cost?" Ummm... he FAILED. He did not complete his work. He cannot continue to the next grade. "Yes, so how much will we have to pay?" The good news is, some of them can turn things around. My little rosebush boy now asks his parents for what he needs, so his father has become less critical and gives him more affirmation and independence. He doesn't fight with his classmates as much and he tells me he no longer cries himself to sleep at night because he's starting to believe his parents love him.
When we're home, which is most of the time, since I only work 16 hours a week (yes, this is why the resentment of the hardworking Chinese garage guy is justified) the kids have gotten to be very creative artists and builders (since their only toys are blocks, legos, crayons and markers) and have also gotten very spoiled about having both parents home nearly all the time. Cohen asked me why I didn't work as an inventor, and then create a food machine, so then I wouldn't have to go to work to pay for our groceries. Then he would work as a builder and build us a house and we would never have to work again. I felt guilty for a second until I realized that they actually have 1 1/2 stay at home parents so they really don't have much to complain about.
China isn't a particularly kid friendly place-no neighborhood parks or forest preserves or places to go apple-picking, but we still get to take them out to the park,
Take them to see their friends...
or take them out on dates on the scooter, which they love.
In some ways they are more adjusted to China than they realize. The other day I said something cost 20 bucks and Cohen asked what "bucks" meant. I told him "dollars" and was still met with a blank stare. Cohen will also ask if we can watch movies "because the internet is working," since he might not get another chance for a while. When the kids play, instead of playing house with their baby dolls, they pack up suitcases and go to Kunming and Africa and Hong Kong.
The other night I was laying down with Cohen while he planned his building endeavors for the next day. He asked where we could buy pipes and stone to build a fountain like he had seen earlier and I told him there was a store in America where they sold it. His eyes got really wide. "Really? A store that sells building stuff?" "Yeah, they have everything you need. Pipes, wood, tools, stone. Even stuff you need for your house, like sinks and counters and cabinets." I don't think Cohen understood why I was saying this so lightly because, to him, I had just dropped a bombshell. "You mean they have EVERYTHING!?!?! Like wires for electricity? And tiles and paint and glue? And pipes for the sinks? And do they give you constructions (instructions) for building it? What is the store called?!?!"
"Menards."
He spent the rest of the night rolling over every 2 minutes to make sure he could remember the name right so he could ask John about it in the morning. "Mards?" "Menards." (2 minutes of silence) "Bards?" "Menards." (2 minutes of silence) "What was it called again?" "Menards." Now he draws pictures every day of what he will build when he can go to this magical place called "Menards" and has one more reason he can't wait to go back to America. The other day he told me he was "tired of China." Not in a whiny "why can't I watch TV all day like that kid" way, but he just seemed weary of it, which I am too some days. If there was a way to take a quarter life retirement in the US and just enjoy our little kids while they're young, rather than remembering it as a stressful and sleep-deprived haze, I would do it.
Friends who have been here for a while say you get used to it, but I can't help noticing they all seem a little sad and isolated and overwhelmed. I'm not saying a lot of people in the US aren't like that, but there's just a level of stress and stimulation that comes of a bunch of people living on top of each others heads in a crazy, crowded and competitive environment that people's brains and souls just shouldn't be able to tolerate, no matter what they're used to. I know I didn't live in the city before, but just in my commute to work I've seen more physical fights than I've ever seen in my life and I've witnessed several of what looked like total nervous breakdowns. Not someone strung out on drugs out on the street acting crazy but what looks like professional men or women completely losing their heads, screaming, writhing, hitting at anyone who was trying to contain them. The other day while I was biking home I saw what looked like a mid-thirties woman in a power suit and heels with her hands wrapped around a light post shrieking and violently banging her forehead against it while her husband/brother/boyfriend tried to hold her back. Like I said, I didn't live in the city before where I saw all kinds of people everywhere, everyday, but there's something here that puts people on or over the brink of totally losing it. This is why we stay home with our kids all day:)
I suppose instead of one tangent, that turned into a whole slew of tangents. I'll do my best to be more concise next time:)
