stop and stare

There are certain sights that make you stop and stare. Do a head swivel at least, to these:

The secret eating.
A new fruit, bread, nut, or meat being cooked on the street that looks completely foreign even though you've lived in a foreign country for almost a year; it is prickly smooth, reddish blue, sometimes blackened, with seeds and without, catastrophes and treasures. Most are greasy and a few times they make you sick. For me these mystery foods always peak my curiosity. Sometimes, you pay the price. Other times, you wind up with something great you'd never have found anywhere else, and it feels like your own. Chestnuts to be enjoyed with a movie or Naruto, greasy and floppy ji ba dan (??) with egg cooked inside and delicious sauce, those waffle holes. Yea, the holes from waffles ended up in China, golden brown and just sweet enough.

And cat meat.

The random beating.
An angry cabbie, possibly just coming from a car wash, just got broadsided. He comes out of the cab and grabs the suspect, a youth on a scooter, by the collar. He roughs him up a bit in the middle of the street. Having displayed his anger, he then points out the dent in his cab and discussion can begin.
At night while biking, marvel at the man and woman chasing two youths with a Singapore-style cane and folding sign, respectively. The woman hits one of the youths with the sign, WWF(E?) style. The girl you're with sucks her teeth and implores you to keep going because no one wants to see violence in the streets. So you continue on reluctantly and see that the dozen bikes riding on the path with you are all checking out the show, too.

The beautiful woman.
In Asia, Japan is known for its beautiful women. Japanese women know how to dress; Japan is a Mecca of fashion. Korea, some say, has more beautiful women. Many Korean women seem to have heard this and whether they are or not carry themselves as such. Those who prefer something more exotic, prefer a foil to the standard that white skin and thin are the hallmarks of beauty, might vote for Thailand or Vietnam or the Philippines. There are a dedicated contingent of American ABCs who are all about Taiwan and Hong Kong and the subtle differences one can see in women from those spots when compared to Chinese from the mainland.
There are enough guys, and girls, who would argue on behalf of the mainland China if for no other reason then it's heavyweight champ in this department: Shanghai. Shopping malls, shopping districts, night clubs, hotels, subways, IKEA. They make you hold your breath a little, bite your lip, and feel a slight longing pain for nostalgic romance mixed with clips from the various music videos and movies you've seen throughout your life. A smile in your direction, the chance to pick up something important she dropped, the you look she looks you look exchange...these are things you may hope for.

But there ain't no event, food, or beautiful woman who can compete for my head swiveling, lip biting, knuckles whitening like a fat faced Asian baby.

Call me a psycho, I don't care.

death and distance in Shanghai

My reading teacher died Tuesday. The last thing he had said to us was that he was going to treat us to chocolates and snacks to reward our hard work. That was last week, when we were finishing up our finals. He was an older man, our 阅读 (intensive reading, yue du) professor. You could tell he had a lot of experience teaching; he was so comfortable with us in class and projected a lot of warmth. He knew about the NBA, basketball, Zorro, and a lot about cinema. He had a good sense of humor, too. I didn't even know his name.

I don't know any of my teachers' names. While I know that I am especially bad in this regard, I’m not alone; there is a great deal of separation between foreign students at Jiao Tong University and the faculty.

Some of us come for fun, attending class to learn a few words but mostly as a means to keep in touch with other foreigner friends: between going to clubs and bars and hanging out in one of the world's fastest cities you need to have a break, and school can serve as that place to chat or even nurse a hangover. Others come for the student visa; you see them during registration and after that they never return.

Then there are the many that come to learn Chinese. While I take my studies seriously, I don't care about grades, and I even skip some classes that I think are covering things too slowly or covering things I’d rather study on my own. The course is what you make of it, you can learn a lot or a little inside and outside of class depending on your attitude. The teachers know this, of course and barely take roll or check homework. Not to say that classes are taught without passion, thought, or care… but there is no graduation from the Long Term Chinese Refresher Course at Jiao Da and you can easily get around many classroom conventions (such as tests that are supposed to count towards your moving up in level) and regulations (like registration!!!).

After class, the Tao Li Yuan area fills with foreign students speaking Korean, Japanese, Dutch, German, English, Thai, Indonesian, and of course Mandarin. There is intermixing between nationalities sometimes, and also tutoring and language exchange between Chinese and foreign students. A few of us sometimes venture out to mingle with the normal, local students of Jiao Da, but mostly there is a clear divide between 留学生( Liu Xue Sheng abroad study students) and Chinese students. The more I thought about my own feeling of distance from school, the more I also thought of our distance from China while living here.

The divide can be seen when you go out at night. You have your Chinese clubs, most notably Babyface. If you're foreign in Babyface chances are you are a guy and you are hunting for Chinese girls. Of course, you yourself might be the unwitting prey…ah this train of thought is a little played out isn’t it? Sorry. The "foreign clubs" range from Guandi and its devotion to American Hip Hop to the bars that have made China nightlife famous. These bars always have an inevitably predictable clientèle: white males 30+ and Chinese semi-professional (and some downright professional) madams. We call 'em 小姐（xiao jie). The vast majority of the time "relationships" that spring from these kinds of bars are based on money and sex; a self proclaimed expert on China, an expat from the U.S., told me it was kind of like prostitution but not enough to give him a guilty conscience when he paid one of his “girlfriends” her monthly allowance. Then there are places like Bon Bon, where the ratio of Chinese to foreigners is much more equal. I was there at Bon Bon, the club famous for its open bar of fake liquor and the monstrous hangovers therefore produced, with a Chinese female friend who told me what she thought of relationships between foreign men and Chinese girls.

"When I look at the eyes of the Chinese girl, I see sadness. Even her smile I can't believe.
She is sad because she knows the relationship is temporary, and that the foreign guy is just having some fun with her."

And if said girl is truly happy and believes she has a future with her boyfriend from overseas?

"Then she's stupid," my friend replied. She pointed to a couple slow dancing in front of our table. The guy's back was to us, brown hair illuminated by the flashing lights from the ceiling. The girl, mostly bangs and eyeliner, was resting her chin on his shoulder. They moved in this embrace just like any other couple anywhere in the world would. But her eyes were empty.

There was a guy I knew who gave me a piece of advice one night:

"China equals sex."

China = sex. Sounds ridiculous, no? But for better or worse this is a mentality that many, many, MANY foreign guys take when they travel not only to China but Asia.

You can see the divide in the streets. Local peddlers and shop keeps try with all their might to squeeze every yuan out of any 外国人 (wai guo ren, foreigner) who cross their path or enter their shop. The arguments between customers and taxi drivers, and of course, the stares. I think in Shanghai more than any other city the local Chinese are not impressed by foreigners. I have more than one friend who's gotten into altercations with locals that turned physical and even very violent.

I was in a cab with two friends, one from Singapore and one from Australia. The guy from Australia looks like Wang Li Hong and extremely nice, the fellow from Singapore has frizzy orangish hair and an English accent. Our cab was struggling to get past some pedestrians who were blocking the street in front of the night club Bon Bon. Randolph, from Singapore, leaned his head out of the window and shouted at them.

“Get the hell out of the way!” They were white, possibly American. One of the girls in their group replied,

“Fucking Chinese!!!”

I thought her choice of words were inappropriate and interesting. We were in China, or so I thought.

The divide is manifested in the superior attitude many foreign expats, businessmen, and students adopt here in Shanghai. Surely there exists cooperation between locals and foreigners here. Shanghai is a very international center for business in the world. But I am still surprised when I sit at a restaurant and see a white person and a Chinese person eating together (so long as it’s not a 50 year old man and his 20 year old girlfriend), and I believe that those of us who come here to really mix and mingle with Chinese are few and far between.

That’s just how I see things now. Are we really a part of Shanghai? Are we here just to have fun? Is Shanghai, with all of its expats and foreign infusion, really China? In the wake of the death of a teacher who genuinely interested in relating to his students, I wonder if I have been doing my part to not be just another carefree American in China.

I did go to Babyface, the local club, a few times last semester.

And it was always to get girls.

In Korea, Beyonce is called "Big Upper Thighs."

tutoring, finding a niche, and the Lord

I looked back at this post I never finished, I am ashamed of myself as a human being. So, I will add edits in red text...I mean...this was started back in December!

Been almost a month (longer) since I last blogged. I have started tutoring English to a nine-year old Korean boy named Howard. Howard's English is already pretty good, and his parents are very kind; I was a bit hesitant to ask for 200 RMB an hour but they readily accepted. If DC Lee can charge 300 an hour, then I shouldn't be reticent to charge 200. I asked Howard when I met him what his favorite color was:

"It's always changing. Right now it's blue." My family has a lot of home videos of my sister and I when we were young. Howard's voice sounds just like mine when I was a couple years younger than him. I'm mentioning this because boys talk about the same things or because we all sound the same before puberty, but he sounds A LOT like I did. He's a good kid, and in contrast to New World Baby ( a mostly bad experience teaching that I think I reflected on already in a blog, i hope) I feel I can make a difference with his English level.

The result of my tutoring? I don't think I improved Howard's English a bit. We ended up disliking each other, him climbing like a monkey all over the study room and saying "I don't want toooooo!", me wishing I had taken a firmer stance with him instead of playing the nice guy. I could get away with being nice and being someone kids could talk to at Kingsbury (years ago) because I did not actually have the direct responsibility of teaching them. At that time, I was more like a stress buffer for the teachers, allowing the kids someone to play with while they finally got a chance to exhale. Basically, with Howard, I gained a new respect for teachers. It's a tough job, and one that could make me hate kids. Thus, I had to quit and vow never to teach kids again. Call me a quitter, I just did.

Met with Mr. Barrett yesterday in People's Square. It had been over half a year since we had contact; we met back in March during a very interesting "business" meeting with an interesting Chinese "developer." During that meeting, my role for the "developer" was to act as his "little helper" in another Chinese city while he tried to wine and dine potential investors. If they gave him money? Well, Mr. Developer took out an old receipt and scribbled on the back RMB 10,000 (about $1,430). The flight and the food would all be paid for by him; he needed a young international to make him look better to these potential Chinese clients.

I didn't know what the fuck was going on, honestly. He had brought me to a fast food place and treated me to a never ending, copious amount of tea. He told me he could teach me Chinese in four months better than any school, and he told me he could introduce me to good contacts in Shanghai to jump start my career. He told me a lot of things, but between the buzz I was starting to get from the 82nd cup of tea, his greasy long hair and nails, and the fact I had been there for two and half hours already...well, I could not get a recurring vision of being sold into slavery, robbed and left dead far from home, or anally raped. He kept saying "little helper". Freaky.

So I had my guard up, vowing not to give in to the power of the tea and agree fully to this deal. Finally, Mr. Barret walked in, all long hair parted down the middle and bushy mustache. And white. From Virginia with a house in Florida. Fluent in Chinese to boot. I thanked God a little bit, unaware of the possible irony to follow.
To cut that story within a story short, Mr. Barret (who was trying to use the developer's contacts for his own work) saved me from a sketchy trip with a sketchy man. Barret told me that it was a safe proposition by Mr. Developer, but that he understood that I was very hesitant to go as I had just come to Shanghai. He was American and experienced in China; he spoke fluent Chinese, and had a boisterous energy that exuded confidence and made me feel safe. We said we would keep in contact, and about seven months after that faithful meeting in a fast food tea place, we met again in People's square for coffee and lunch.

Mr. Barret is a devout Christian trying to set up a recognized charitable organization in Shanghai. He has a non-recognized one already, which raises and provides money and goods to families and people in need of surgery, musical instruments, food, or just financial help in hard times. Most of the beneficiaries are Christian as well, for example the family of a pastor in the countryside, but anybody in need is viable for help from them. During lunch I learned a lot from him and the politics of China.

To become a legit charity, Barret would need a lot of money from a big Chinese businessman who is Christian. Big money meaning over a million.

"He wasn't impressed with me, and to tell you the truth, David, I wasn't really impressed with him and his wealth, either." They had met before in the businessman's huge office in Guangzhou.

Mr. Barret told me that the opportunity to take the man's money and found a charity, in the name of that man, was available. I questioned why he did not take it, as another requisite is that all organizations and charities must be in the name of a Chinese. Barret's answer came like this:

"I do the work of God not because I am seeking some kind of reward in the afterlife, nor do I do it because I want His praise. A true Christian follows the word of God, and is in step with His plan. Too many nowadays do good in His name as a ticket into the pearly gates. I have helped a lot of people, and of course when they thank me I feel their gratitude...but I do it because it is the right thing to do according to God. Also, once we are in line with his plan, sometimes we have to question Him when He is not doing His work."

Question God?

"Yes, a passage in the Bible that has been disputed for many many years says that we must question God when he seems to be getting off track with his plan."

Mr. Barret told me a story of a poor pastor in the countryside and his musically gifted daughter. They could afford no piano to give her a chance at being special. Mr. Barret prayed that night for God to grant this family it's wish, and help this little girl.

After a week, God answered Mr. Barret and said that it would be done in three weeks, at the end of the month. Wait, was the answer to Barret's prayers and so he did.

After just nine days, an American doing business in China offered Barret a baby-grand piano from his old home that he had no use for. This man was a Christian. He had been having an affair in China for half a year, while his wife and children waited for him back home in the States.

"I could not accept his piano," Mr. Barret told me.

Another two weeks passed, and nothing happened. Mr. Barret began to panic, and prayed to God telling Him that he had to keep His word and execute His plan.

"Now remember, You told me You would help this little girl. I remain your humble servant, but the end of the month has come and gone, and I am worried You have forgotten Your word."

The next day, a Chinese woman called Mr. Barret, and spoke excitedly with him. She had been fired from her old job some months ago. The reason she had been fired was the same reason many in China are let go: workers get an annual raise in salary, and companies fire them so they can hire new workers at lower prices. She had already started working a job shortly after she was fired and was not resentful of her previous situation. However, unexpectedly a new manager from the woman's old company had called her just a couple of days ago and offered her severance pay, unheard of, and a personal apology, even more unheard of. Acceptable reasons for laying off workers, severance pay, these are aspects of capitalism that are just coming into widespread practice in China. Here is still a time and business culture where making money is the only ethic.

"It was like a miracle, them admitting they were wrong." The woman was a devout Christian like Mr. Barret. Her miracle was a sincere apology from a big company and a sum of money just enough to buy a quality piano.

It was generously accepted.

This story is true, and I have no reason to doubt it. I spoke with Mr. Barret about my studies in Chinese, about my searching for a soul in Shanghai. I expressed to him my desire to help people and do something bigger and more meaningful, that when i think of doing good I get excited, motivated, and everything becomes clear...even in a murky place like Shanghai. He told me that even though i am not a Christian, he felt that I had a lot of the values Christianity is about.

Whether this would help me during Judgement, he said he didn't know. We said we would meet again and wished each other luck.

I have not, though I have given thought, become Christian. I have not followed a spiritual path as of yet. I have not even found my niche in Shanghai yet.

But I think i am getting there, and whatever the path may be, I will follow it.

自行车故事

I parted ways with the last two compatriots. There was no celebration, no welcoming party, nor even any beer shared between us. Just haggard smiles and near broken joints, muscles begging to be set free of the instruments of our suffering: our bicycles.

The havoc at the bus station- imagine how stuffed China is normally and then double or triple it due to GOLDEN WEEK- was compounded by us having to lug our bikes around, over, and sometimes through throngs of Chinese. We walked around the entire compound to where the buses where, and then we were lead back into the station. Waiting in line amidst hundreds, we finally made it to the bus before being told our bikes wouldn't fit, and finally being told to wait for a bigger bus. The bigger bus arrived and other passengers pressed ahead quickly filling it with luggage, but the four of us silently and roughly shoved our bikes into the bus's underbelly while ignoring the protests of passengers and station workers.

Hangzhou was worlds apart from Shanghai. The air was fresher, the locals warmer and welcoming (sometimes too welcoming), and the trees and water within the city softened Hangzhou to the point where I decided I would want to try and live there. We drank beers, and decided to test out the nightlife in the City of Parks and Flowers. I may have just made up that name up. We quickly found that no matter how blunt we were about not wanting to encounter 小姐 (prostitutes by any other name) our taxi driver turned escort for the night kept taking us to proper KTVs. Proper KTVs have 小姐, and maybe some singing but mostly 小姐. We finally ditched little Rico, our taxi escort, paid no heed to the others trying to recruit us, and ended up at a little bar where everyone who stepped up to the mike for karaoke sang like a pro. The four of us were tired, and after some shoulder slapping went home to the spa. I didn't even get a massage.

"We were f''ing dumb to do this, man." Snow Job looked at me as we waited for the elevator. We stood in embroidered silk pajamas and velvet slippers, the uniform of the 顾客 in VIP. We had just dropped an unhealthy sum of money on a VIP service that offered really really good fruit...and that was about it. We had just woken up after a fitful sleep and the worst massage of Snow Job's life. I looked at my watch. It was five in the evening.

The four Joe's walked into that Spa/Massage Parlor/Hotel just hoping for any kind of reprieve from our journey. Dark colored wood, velvet reds, cool marble, and statues of Greek Gods greeted us upon entry. I felt my mood lift. We checked in and rushed for the showers and spa. The place was vast, the 服务员 were polite and only slightly irritating (as opposed to Shanghai where they just follow you too damn close), and there was a pool of fish to nibble your skin and make you laugh like a school girl. Sauna, shave, cold water, hot water, you name it they had it. We dried up and it was suddenly time to choose a massage. Beach Head and Lifeline went for Thai and Regular. I was clean and comfortable and about to choose a Thai massage for myself when Snow Job pushed me with the back of his forearm like he was trying to keep me from butting in line.
"Whoa whoa whoa, how about the VIP?"
I couldn't decide at first but it was expensive, so I ultimately said no. We rock paper scissored for it and I still won so the answer was still "no." Then he hit me with truth.
"My boy in Vegas spent $1000, U.S. (a lot of stress on the '"S.'") on VIP at a massage parlour. We're on vacation and we just biked 2000km, man!"
We turned to our friends who'd been waiting for a good 5 minutes for us to decide.
"See you guys tomorrow."
We headed up to the 7th floor where ordinary customers weren't allowed to go, nearly holding our breaths for whatever lay behind the closed door of secrets that was 东方 Spa VIP.

Watched Snow Job and Lifeline get into the cab, and then we pressed on for the last 20+ km of our ride. My knee was starting to hurt real bad after twenty minutes, and we were hungry so we stopped to eat at a roadside deli. I was worn to my bones and now whenever we stopped I had to stop myself shivering from the night cold; my body and brain couldn't handle the ensuing interrogation from the deli owner but luckily Beach Head was able to obliged. Apparently we were the only Americans ever served there. We finished our food and left without a word. By the time we had entered the outlier of Hangzhou I wasn't sure why I was excited to go there in the first place. At a split in the highway we called Lifeline and I pictured the two of them by a fireplace eating chocolate for some reason. A cab came and thankfully whisked us for another 20 km to the spa. I was never happier to be in a cab my whole life.

We biked and biked, no one really talking to each other. Just bike. Set the pace if you're in front. 30 minutes at a time. Or was it an hour? 20km at a time, more if we can do it. The roads were nice sometimes. Sometimes they were frightening. Ignore the aches and grime covering your body like dirty skin-tight film. Just keep on biking.

Snow Job lost his pedal, and I wanted to go back to Jia Xing and spend the night. But he persevered on one pedal until we found a bike shop. In the dim light, Beach Head and I waited for our two guys and the shopkeep to return from a parts store, and mused about how his camera probably equaled a year's salary. Wry smiles were all we managed anyways, recently.

By the time we reached the city of Jia Xing, we were famished and in need of rest. The part of the city we biked through was like a poor man's Shanghai. The lunch was substantial and nothing special; walking through what appeared to be the main road in town provided us with little to stimulate our low morale. We debated whether to continue or stop there, and the will to burn on prevailed. It was getting to night as we exited that forgettable place.

I missed the turn. After Beach Head's speech on the lead man setting a good pace, I said I would go first. Put on my headphones, cranked up the volume, and let fly. I didn't even look back as I powered ahead, and when a hill came I focused on my front tire and disregarded cramping thighs. Almost half an hour passed and I looked behind me. No one. I opened my phone and saw text messages from all three Joes. I paused in the sun, suddenly very tired. I paused for a long time, and headed back to the convenient store we had set out from.

After McDonald's Lifeline took the lead and we were off, biking through the city of Shanghai and leaving all the pollution and skyscrapers in our wake. Beach Head and I sported masks, and we stopped often to take pictures and check out the map. I didn't look at the map too much myself but instead fiddled with my knee brace or hat or sunglasses before reaching a status of comfortability. Hills sucked as we exited the economic capital of Shanghai, but the air put strength in my lungs and in my legs, and after some three or four hours we decided to get some supplies at a 超市 and apply some sunscreen. It was there we had to analyze our pace and goal time...a war room meeting of sorts.

The night before the trip, I wanted to get a lot of sleep. My girlfriend had helped me pack, my body was ready, the fraternal team of Joes (we each had a nickname from the cartoon Hawk, Beach Head, Lifeline and Snow Job) was prepared for a sometimes tough but mostly pleasant bike out of the city and into the countryside. I had drifted off to sleep when my phone rang. It was a number I didn't recognize and I picked up. "Bla bla bla ren ren zhu moik blah". So it was a Chinese guy I didn't know. I told him he dialed wrong and hung up. Immediately he called back and sounded more agitated before he literally LAUNCHED into a stream of apparently the only English he knew: "FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!" I was needless to say very much awake at this point. I told him the same in Chinese, turned off my phone, mulled what had just happened in my head. I was angry enough I couldn't fall asleep for the better part of an hour, but finally decided I wasn't going to let some random phone call affect the journey of a lifetime.

simple update

Am doing fine, with things settled nicely on the plate and neatly arranged. Around the plate things are a bit disordered though.

Am I finished? No, but this is harder than I expected.

I have just gotten over a nasty stomach problem that robbed me of energy, appetite, and dropped me to about 147 lbs., or the lightest I've been since sophomore year in high school. Now I have a sore throat, and a fever just as my appetite was returning and my girlfriend came back from Holland. Since she was at the gate she's been telling me already she wants to go back home to her family and friends and a job in her homeland, and that she doesn't want to come back to Shanghai. I deeply love this girl, and the thought of losing her after almost half a year of work and ups and downs and progress and ultimately a state of love and caring, after only a relatively short time of happiness is too much for my soul to bear.

I'm exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. I can't think straight and can't think about the future. I try and reassure her with all my "writer's words" and the most tender touch I can imagine. as it hurts to even swallow. Smiling as my head clouds up congested like some dark room filled with soaked boxes vexed over ages ago and since forgotten. I know that if she leaves I will bawl like a baby. I've already been surrounded by those fed up with Shanghai and ready to leave, or already left. A trail of friends gone and an air of negativity overpowers the crystal good moments I experience. These moments are mostly spent alone. If I have to be alone in Shanghai it will be hard, and I will long for her for a very long time.

I will try my best, and if it's not enough...well someone once very special to me recommended a book called the Alchemist. The jist of it is that one's goals are much harder to pursue because of our own fears and doubts, but even the twisting path before us and its many pitfalls and monsters should not deter us from pursuing what we want. And achieving it. I will stay strong, it's all I have left right now as I shiver.

nan guo day

Today I was nursing some serious, for lack of a better word diarrhea >_<. I hadn't eaten all day after making the stupid decision last night to "defeat" diarrhea using a method of all you can drink Asahi and all you can eat Japanese. I had to 上厕所 about 6 times in the night and and and...and by the end of the night I was very gingerly using toilet paper. Sorry, no more imagery of any kind I promise. That is to say if you are still reading.

So today I was nursing some immense stomach foulness and canceling multiple appointments. As is my custom when I bum around the apartment, I surfed the web and did not study all that much. I did decide by the afternoon that I would wash some clothes so as not to waste the entire day. I took a rest in bed while the pleasant hum and churn of the washing machine carried me away into sleep. I woke up to, what else, use the bathroom. There I found about an inch of water on the bathroom floor. I saw that the tube connected to the washer had fallen off, so water poured directly onto the floor instead of the much more suitable area of inside the shower. Am I living a tough life or what? I remember once I was taking a shower and suddenly washer water, a little gray and grimey, suddenly started pooling at my feet. Well, compared to this that was SUCH a pleasant circumstance to be in. I frantically mopped with the squeegee mop I'd bought at Caree Foure a week earlier. After mopping and squeezing, mopping and squeezing, I had the bathroom serviceable in about 20 minutes. Pain in the ass I thought leaning on my squeegee mop when I heard a rapid knock at the door and opened it expecting to see G with medicine for me. It was not G at all!

It was an old Chinese granny with a lot things to say but the one word that really stuck out was SHUI 水. Water. Lots of it apparently coming from my floor through here ceiling. I told her I didn't' understand most of what she was saying but that I was sweeping things up. She left after a while and that's when I noticed a little pool of water outside my roommates' closed door. I knocked, opened, and found the real problem.

I spent the next forty five minutes laying down all my towels, tank tops, shorts and t shirts. It barely soaked up half of the water that had seeped in as i slept. I was in my boxers mopping and squeezing washer water into three tubs I'd found. I was on my hands and knees trying to fix this disaster i had caused, considering briefly whether or not I could clean this mess up before my roommates came home. Yea right. Sally, my quietest roomie came in and immediately did not start yelling at me but helped me. I felt really bad because the water was not only all over their stuff on the floor, it was clearly enough to cause some problems for said granny below. We got it all up but not before granny and grandpa came back this time with a slightly less wrinkled old lady who was the angriest of all.

I nearly shouted 都怪我！ but they wouldn't settle for me taking the blame, launching into a tirade (I acutely observed) that had me feeling worse for Sally since they knew I couldn't really understand them. As they left I said sorry, and the second woman stepped back into our apartment and fixed me with scary eyes: "Sorry don't cut it." Dang. She used Mandarin and didn't catch all of what she said but that was basically the jist. Sally and went to buy some stuff in the supermarket, especially a basket of fruit we picked ourselves as a peace offering to our unfortunate and angry neighbors.

We were two nervous ones when we rand their doorbell. As the door opened I blurted out 情收到我们的礼物. But granny and her husband wouldn't accept the fruit basket, instead pushing us out of the door! However, it wasn't because they were angry and didn't want to see our faces, but rather because they blamed the landlord and not us. They couldn't accept the gift, though Sally admirably tried to force the basket on them with all her strength. Granny was tough stuff, and had pushed us halfway up our own flight of stairs when she said just be careful next time we washed our clothes. They smiled at us and that was that.

Now we have a huge basket of fruit, and our neighbors may actually like us instead of loathe us. A good end to a bad day.

Except my stomach is rumbling again...



Oh, and also a guy came into our apartment and checked out my passport and I told him that I had three girls in the other room as roommates because I didn't realize that 3 to a room in an apartment this size is illegal and plus I was only wearing my underwear because I was in the midst of soaking up a lagoon zaijian.

give back, do something good

I pass by a dark threadwork silhouetted against the hot, metallic night sky. Passing by old folks chatting away, I understand very little and can only guess it must be gossip or the daily hardship. I see children held close by their parents, precious young clad in simple sometimes dirty clothes, and wonder about their futures and their parents worries. Will they grow up working for 2.5 块 an hour? My knee creaks like an old gray tool already rusted, I ascend the stairs to my home and count my blessings with each level.

Two nights ago I had drinks and conversation with my wise, older friend Mast and a new Korean friend. It was nice because we three noticed and even spoke aloud of it our common dispositions. I have always been impressed with Mast's character, wisdom, intelligence, empathy, and sense of humor. A deep voice, serious face, and slow movements give a sense of experience and authority that go far beyond impression. He has helped with my studies, my girlfriend, and encouraged me to stay humble and kind. Mast recently began a real estate business with another guy; both were former students at my school. It is very hard, as a foreigner without a Chinese partner and without business level (though both of theirs is very good) Mandarin. However, when I hear Mast say that they will definitely be successful in the future I have no doubt. But it was this night that he told me that he and his partner planned on giving a significant portion of their income to a local child for education. My respect for him instantly burst forth: in my inebriation I congratulated and complimented and voiced my awe and enthusiasm. But alcohol or no, my inspiration was real.
Idealism is something I have always had in me, it is something we all have inside. I have pushed it aside in the recent past. But Mast and my friend P.Stone back in the States are real visionaries, and want to be successful in a way that does not involve stepping on heads to ford the river nor utilizing slavish labor. Idealism and success combined, business sense and benevolence intertwined is something I believe can be done and in the process make ourselves more fulfilled and happy.

a history of violence

The other day I was inside a McDonalds, glorious symbol of America for better or worse. That or Coca Cola. It was crowded with people my age or younger and there was a dynamic atmosphere you'd be hard pressed to find in an equivalent back home. Suddenly the manager put his hand on the back of another man who had been talking to two girls. For a split second I thought it was a friendly gesture, but this was quickly dispelled when he violently jerked the man away from them and began shouting and pushing him. At the second shove, the man made a fist and screamed at the manager, his face contorted in rage but also what looked like pain. No sound came out. The man was mute, and my unaffected friend beside me told me that other Chinese mutes often select McDonalds as the place to peddle their vouchers. Apparently it happened all the time. I watched as the man was bullied out the door, and could not help but choose his side and pity him staring from the outside before finally walking slowly away. I did not think to remember the anger I have often felt here in Shanghai towards locals trying to sell me goods or beg money from me, an anger that sometimes bubbles into rage and a desire for violence.

I played basketball with a guy from Haerbin, the "Ice City", yesterday. I shook his hand and told him I had heard a rumor that the people from Haerbin were fighters. He smiled and said that it was true, that Shanghai people were "pussies" and that in Haerbin they "don't talk, they throw a punch." His English was easily among the best I had ever heard from a Chinese local; I was shocked that he had never left China, and as the day went on I joked with him that I didn't believe he had never studied in the States. Peace told me a couple stories about his fights, including one where he smashed a taxi cab door into the head of a drunken Shanghainese. This coupled with his virtual mastery of English, including some choice slang, gave me a strange sensation. I could not help but respect him more for both his language ability and apparent violent streak. Though most likely not a true indication, Asians who speak good English give the impression of a high degree of intelligence. Despite my increasing leaning towards calm, passive tranquility in my day to day life, there still lies in me that primal feeling of violence, brute strength and intimidation as synonymous with power, respect, and success. Anyways, his basketball style was a little physical, and he played well. An opponent in one of our games often joked around, talking trash in a Sam Cassel (I imagine), jovial kind of way. The smiling jester quickly got under Peace's skin, who after a point went forehead to head with him telling him in Mandarin not to tell people what to do, how to play, or what a foul was. After that, Peace's game declined into a somewhat physical war with whoever was guarding him, even if it was a double team. After the game, he confided in us the obvious: that the guy had gotten under his skin and made him lose his cool on the court. But it was his explanation of something that I hadn't noticed during the game that was strangely fascinating:
"That guy [the trash talker] was pretty good!"
"I didn't notice it, why do you say that?"
"Because he guarded me in the post, I couldn't hit him in the face with my elbow" Peace gave us a demonstration of a classic Shaq move. "Yea he backed away just enough to avoid it," he continued smiling.
"It's eerie how normal you talk about trying to elbow him."

And it was.

back again

It is now noon time in Shanghai, and the sun is hot. It beats down on broken stone sidewalks and the tanned faces of country side Chinese who will never make more than enough money to survive. The sidewalks have yet to be littered with slop and refuse, the garbage that gives the humid night a sickly sweet smell in and around the groceries and food stands. I sit in my air conditioned room on my laptop wrongly thinking I am living like a real Chinese.

With that said, I am living like a Chinese compared to last semester. Every day it is seven flights of stairs in 35 degree (Celcius, about 95 F) humid weather. Last night my roommate, Skating and i went shopping at the supermarket about a block away and I saw a big rat scurry right in front of my flip flopped feet. I share a bathroom in a two bedroom apartment with three Chinese girls, and there is no living room. A shower always leads to water coating the floor, and there are water footprints mixed with dirt on the floors a lot of the time. There was no hand soap anywhere when I arrived. Just like the beginning of last semester, this is going to take a couple of weeks to get used to.

Right now, I am eating less and less. I am actually afraid to go out by myself for food because reticence has really taken a hold of me. I spent the last four days with my girlfriend, and said goodbye to her at the airport. I am in love with her but yesterday morning could be the last time I see her. In any case, this is all a good challenge for me. As long as I can stay focused on my one clear goal, learning Chinese, everything else can stay murky and gray.

School hasn't started yet, but it certainly feels strange walking around the campus, Tao Li Yuan, and passing by Lian Xing Lou knowing so many friends have gone. Aside from friends, familiar faces have left and returned to their home countries. Coupled with my change of address, Jiao Tong has all but lost it's feeling of home. There will be no room 613, G and Sol's place of refuge and snacks. Charlesy and his crew of misfits have all gone, no longer relaxing their hangovers away under the umbrellas of the coffee shop. While I was home in D.C., I missed this place like a home but I seemed to have forgotten that everything was already changing before I left Shanghai on vacation. Ah, now it's 1 o clock and I have gotten nothing productive done today. Time to venture out into China, I reckon.

Synopsis- 1st Semester

This past semester I had one goal: Chinese improvement. I did improve my Chinese, to be sure, my Aunty even told me my mom during our family reunion in Boston that I wasn't wasting my parents money. I also had a lot of fun in Shanghai, met people of all ages and nationalities in my program, made good Chinese friends (startlingly easy, at times), experienced the best night life of my life, realized the danger of internet bars is very true, and trained like a Spartan, dined like an American, and met an amazing girl.

My blog started with some observations about Shanghai and Chinese, but kind of...I don't know...de-evolved into a more personal journal the likes of which I had wanted to leave to xanga. Well, my xanga is pretty much retired and I don't regret my writings. However, next semester is going to be different. I plan to live more cheaply, healthly, and really try and squeeze the Chinese out of Shanghai. It's a wonderful, international, modern city. You can live in the Chinese side, the foreign side, or straddle the line. I'd like to think I more or less was between them, but Chinese is the thing so I will try and say goodbye to the comforts I grew accustomed to last semester.

In short, if I get comfortable as early as October, that means I'm doing something wrong.

Zaijian

again

Digital love, again. I am home, but already wish I was back. I am trying to fight this feeling, because I'm scared I am cheating myself. Only time tells I guess.

The problem is I don't really have any.

the currency of people

People are judged on their worth; currency is all about the aspects of a person that affect their relationships with others and garner them respect and admiration or resentment and hatred. here at 交通大学 age and ethnicity don't have much bearing, and i have written before about how cool that is. Language, however, is paramount. If you can speak Chinese better than your friend, it doesn't matter where he worked or went to school or even if he's your senior. And with no dearth of Koreans and Japanese and Indonesians and Thai and so forth, students who speak multiple languages are the coolest of the cool. It's interesting to see older, established friends in the beginning levels and semi to fully fluent guys my age hang out with locals and stuff like that. The playing field is all about Mandarin. Not only is it an unspoken wavelength of strength and confidence, but it can and does manifest itself in tangible ways. For example: two students and some Zhong guo ren are hanging out in Shanghai, and the higher level student decides to slip in a joke in Mandarin at the expense of lower level student causing instant laughter from all but said fresh meat. The beginner can only give a sheepish smile and steel himself to study harder. This is a cold knife in the back that is plunged more often than you'd think, sometimes without a thought. But for the beginners, it sure is a shitty feeling to not understand and feel so dumb.

Makes me wish I treated foreigners in high school better. Then again...that can lead to MORE problems which I won't elaborate on now. Sigh.

Zaijian

Listening to Wang Lee Hong and not phased at all. Whatup tho? This doesn't make a lot of sense to me if I REALLY think about it.

This semester in Shanghai taught me a few important things. Namely, that I am lazy and somewhat of a selfish prick. Well, I guess there are positives to be had as well.

At 23 years of age I think I can come to terms with the fact that I was at best mildly socially retarded until somewhere near the end of college, despite ups that made me normal and downs that made me really really socially retarded. Here in Shanghai I have had a lot of fun, grown a lot, and been able to experience the same exact problems of life and love and friendship that I thought I had learned from in the past and vowed to never let happen again.
I can't believe Doug is leaving, that crazy gege...we didn't Shanghai it to the fullest mostly because he's a bum.

I have to do the shout out thing, apologies to myself and my infatuation with maturity. The shout is still something I feel a part of me. I will look at this note, or not, and be embarrassed. I don't care. I'm still young, good looking, and shake when I laugh. Spence, Chloe, Los, Wanda... I wish I could still come back to the U.S., but I need to concentrate on my studies, character, health, and recovery from clubs and baijiu and STDs. So let the shout outs roll nei geeeeeeeeeee

Yoon- My good boy, he's no Uncle Tom contrary to some others' opinions. A really humble, fun guy with the best laugh in the business. Seriously his laugh will lift your mood. You know that guy, the guy you WANT to see when you're in a shitty mood. Not only that, but he's got wisdom and his humility can make one forgot he's got more going on upstairs than most of us, and the credentials to prove it. Loved balling with you, quick shot Jamison. How about this for a concrete goal, cuz I know I will visit you in SK: get Carter. Drunk, assault him, get him laid, I don't know. Something. Get Carter. I know you are loving this if you are reading it and if not than SK has already changed you and in that case I don't like you. Sorry I didn't party with you before left, but I agree with you totally that drawn out goodbyes are bad luck for meeting again. See you later.

Alex Ho- dude I don't want to associate you with killing Russians because you are more than that. A real funny guy, agressively funny, and probably the #1 ninja at getting cats to go out even when they want to stay in. I mean, you practically were gonna urinate Team Jackson. You are sensitive and thoughtful as well, and you have heart. You hurled and came back to the spartans same day, and you killed that Russian. Gonna try and check you in NYC though you are not living large yet, probably just stressed out. Hit me up on AIM and MSN you bitch.

Sue and Cho combo #3- You girls are so cute. Sue do you know about your 3 forms? Cho makes me feel warm inside with her "Nyahahhaa," and "Muhuhuhu".

Shit man, I'm feeling 难过 all of a sudden. Time to start packing up my room. Zaijian

Humid winds of change

When my older friend said the words: "Your chinese has not improved very fast," it hit my gut and my bad liver like something really hard. I had been riding high that day after apartment searching with Glen and Hyun Seok. The real estate broker and our chinese friend Lester, who's a nutcase and will deserve a mention in my next piece about Chinese local friends, told me my Chinese was pretty good. Normally one must be dubious when receiving compliments from Chinese because they are par for the course. However, on this occassion I felt somewhat of an epiphany, what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity (wish I was Sam Jackson): I FELT my listening improvement as well as my speaking. So my elation was swiftly, and justly, cut down outside of Tao Li Yuan in the night. Mosquitoes bit at my calves and shoulders.

I wrote before about my ambition to stop clubbing and drinking and live healthier. Well I have taken that ambition into overdrive. Even an occassional drink makes me somewhat sick, and I plan on going to bed in about 20 odd minutes while simultaneously considering it not early enough keep in MIND that this is truly a city that doesn't sleep. My friends' going away bash at Guandi (maybe the only club I will truly miss going to...so many hot-forget it) went on until 6:30 in the morning. Speaking of going away bashes I have missed 3 of them including my very good friend Yoon's. In the past, I would have probably gone without thinking twice to all of them, or at least caved at the first "Come on man, so and so is leaving tomorrow." I have been studying and trying to ignore English speaking friends during the day. I don't listen to music anymore, only Chinese on the ipod.

The biggest step came that night though, when after my world was semi-shattered I picked up the pieces and put them together. A part of me, the part that was truly happy being comfortable, didn't like the crystal ball just created. I saw hardship, strangeness, and everything I knew I needed, the very reason i was here in China. I sent Glen a text message saying "I'm sorry, bro, I can't live with you next semester."

Now, we had that day just looked at a PIMP apartment that would have been nice in any country in the world. Glen is the most generous guy I've ever met, and a good friend. He texted me back saying I was his little brother, and to do what's best for me. For my Chinese I had decided I needed to largely cease speaking English. My mom was right, I had to think in Chinese. My friend Min, the older wiser guy who had told me I needed to do more to learn Chinese if indeed it was my goal, offered to let me live with him and his classmate. I've been waiting until tonight for him to arrange matters.

But then i took it a step further. Provided the place I check out tomorrow isn't shit, next semester I will live with three Chinese girls, one of whom is a language exchange partner. Now, this is pretty crazy compared to the other changes I have been trying to make good habits. My Chinese is guaranteed to sky rocket. K. Cho told me there are two ways to learn Chinese: 1. Chinese roomates, 2. Chinese girlfriend. Now it's like the best of both worlds right? 3 Chinese roomate/girlfriends? 开玩笑！ The rent will be LESSTHANHALF of what my perfect parents pay right now. Of course, the conditions will probably not be anything close to what I was planning on with Glen and them. Also, I had been thinking of living with Doug as well, whom I've just begun to rekindle old delight with. That sounds deliciously decadent. And gay. And living with 3 girls isn't the fairy tale adolescent boys dream about...I mean I'm pretty sure.

I won't even be able to bring girls home or have a girlfriend stay over.


Maybe the next step is celibacy; I say bring it on.

Zaijian

A thick cloud of malaise hangs over my head, just as it has done for the past two weeks. I feel as though Shanghai is not the place for me, that I am depressed here, that everyone is leaving for brighter days while I stay in a soulless place of greed and flesh and overpriced designer goods. I marvel at the slightest bit of green and surprise myself whenever I laugh heartily as if I had crawled out of muck and misery and forgotten how it felt to even smile. Sex is almost joyless, food an overindulgence that has led to the most prolonged stomach problems in my lifetime. I have sworn off alcohol and clubbing yet the alternatives seem boring and at odds with the city itself. I mean, if I wanted more tranquility, should I not get out of Shanghai? I look at my peers and see a similar sort of unhappiness. It seems like everyone needs a vacation, and if the next semester is to be like the end of this one then depression will become a stark reality.

some things that keep me going:
"I love you man. Ur a damn good friend."
"miss you baby, wanna hang out with you when I come back...!
Glen's generosity and upbeat attitude.
the prospect of doing what i Love and accomplishing what I set out to do.
"Strong in mind, body, and spirit!"
realizing that putting my pride aside and being who I am isn't always easy, but it works.
Good, clean fun.

I have a lot of memories of this place already, and each goodbye wrenches my heart a little. i didnt' have much of this in college, because I wasn't that close to anyone besides a select few i knew I'd be with afterwards. These people are fun, funny, and have made me realize that friends are so invaluable.

My best friends are still my best friends. My true friends, the two guys I love the most. I hope one of them chooses to stay, and that the other is doing fine. Whatever happens, however, I will be strong. Oddly enough, just as I have come to find so many new friends who I want as more than just buddies, it's time to say goodbye. And oddly enough, i am ready to happily embrace solitary living even with the bouts of gloom and doom that come with it.

zaijian

Losy Los!

Been feeling a bit in my depressed mood lately. Alex "The Russian Slayer" Ho is leaving tomorrow for NYC; he's making the big bucks in investment banking. He is one of the most intentionally funny guys here in China, always quick with the cursing, very nice and generous guy (bought me xiao long bao and 2 hour massage yesterday), and CRAZY when he drinks.

"Vladimir, when you're in MY country, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

He's the first of my friends to be bouncing, and I can't take the feeling of being left behind.

This morning I actually missed home, especially my dad. I was feeling down and then I checked my gmail, found an email from Isosolos, and read it. I hate to say I had nearly lost faith in my closest friends, but it did waver slightly. Doug has been going through a bit of a crisis lately it seems, between his girlfriend and his next move in China. Funny, we had planned on being a team in Shanghai and in Asia, and yet I feel like I could count the number of times we've spent time together on two hands. I haven't seen him in over three weeks now, though we are only about $2 away from each other. Meanwhile, Los is on the other side of the world and has been too busy to email me! When I opened up his mail it made me miss home even more. He's finally growing up, working and moving on from heartbreak; his email was full of the sensitive words and humor I have grown to appreciate over the past nine years. I will see Doug tomorrow or Friday, and Carlos this summer.

People leaving is tragic, but friends are something permanent. I hope some of these people I've met I will have ties with for the rest of my life. If not, it has been a wonderful ride, and I will always love my brothers.

Trifecta. Zaijian

no subject

I saw a movie called "The Last Kiss". It was recommended by someone once very close to me. I cringed at some scenes, where she was Jen and i was Zach Braff...right down to exact lines and situations. At the end of the movie (spoiler) he tries his best and eventually crawls back into her arms ("Warning Sign" my favorite Cold Play song in the background). Did I try my best?

I dreamed about her. It's been almost a whole year.


Had a great German dinner with my classmates last night. A guy pulled a knife on me in a bar two nights ago. I am happy here. My friends are leaving. Shanghai doesn't have much in the way of soul.

A friend of mine told me told me he had to talk with me about something that had been depressing him the last few weeks. He revealed to me he was gay. We talked for the better part of an hour, him telling me that I do not fit the typical mold of an American. I've known lots of gay men and women, and some of them are good friends. This particular friend is my classmate, and possibly the most popular guy in class because of his sense of humor and kindness; I didn't even notice he was down recently because he did such a good job of masquerading his troubles. I, on the other hand, where my emotions somewhat on my sleeve. I told him sometimes I feel like an outcast in our class (which to me is one of the best classes in terms of students in the entire program-between King Wa, the aforementioned friend, Ballin Guillom, Wife, Dutch, and the Couple). He told me what I've been told for a long time: don't think too much. The next day he told me he felt better than he had in a long while. I was glad, however the ironic thing was I felt a lot better to.


Last night a guy pulled a knife on me, told me never to learn Cantonese, that there are 500 RMB abortions that are perfectly acceptable here, and that dumplings are not good and he AND I certainly don't like them. I mean...this guy was crazy. Telling ME I don't like dumplings?

A little of this, a little of that

Wa Wan is the funniest human being on earth to me. He can barely say a sentence without me at least giggling. Not even Doug can match this guy for making me crack; Wa Wan is "top to bottom Indonesian"

People leaving you behind sucks. Big time. I'm going to miss quite a few friends, and I fear that while I promised to visit more than a couple of them, these last few weeks will be the last time I see them.

I'm still afraid to buy the fruit here.

top moments with friends

I just remembered taking a roadtrip from DC to St. Pete with Isosolos; it was about 17+ hours and neither of us napped for a SECOND. Best roadtrip of my life, capped by us singing "Beverly Hills" at the top of our lungs, twice. And we made a game of passing cars and not being passed, and we never got ticketed. I love you, Lois.

Doug in Shanghai, playing 2k7 and inventing small ball, "Oh shit! Small ball, how do we do it? Don't **** me like that..." I think there was one point where i really thought my bro had problems, at the curry place, conversing with us like he was reading jokes from a Seinfeld script. He's ok now, and I am determined to make him stay in Shanghai!

Probably the gayest moment in my life, but also a beautiful one...so it has to involve da baby Spencer right? We were hiiigh on life and walking around Dupont circle. It was semi surreal already so I asked him if he could sing John Legend. Now, John Legend is one of my favorite voices in music, and when I'm driving or by myself sometimes I try and sing his songs. It's hard for me. When Spencer broke out "Save Room for my Love" I thought I was walking next to John Legend. I don't think it was the high. It was clear, and husky, and beautiful. If we held hands, we would have been gayer than any couple in Dupont. That's cool man, that's Spence. A lot of talent, untapped potential, and the desire for knowledge.

sad, not because i'm bad.

I am not taking this seriously. Maybe i thought I was, what with good midterm grades and a slow and steady improvement in my Chinese. Justin always tells me I need to study harder, but I would always look at my peers in Chu Er and feel pretty good about myself.

So this begs the question...why settle for being slightly better than mediocre?

I met an older woman, Jennie from Indonesia, who basically shook up my world. I am not here to party, fall in love, excercise, read English and Russian literature, play video games, and amass a collection of DVDs. These things are all fine, SECONDARY to the goal: learn Chinese.

It's about to get serious. Period. Zaijian

Purity amongst the filth.......^_^

Yesterday was one of the most satisfying days, if not the most, in Shanghai yet.

1. I had my very first english teaching class. I was quite nervous the last couple of days because I have never been in charge of my own class; all of my teaching experience before yesterday was as a secondary (like the last line of defense, my summer school classes had 3 teachers and I was the third "teacher") teacher's assisstant. The gap betweeen my past experience and the job i was about to undertake, at least in my mind, was immense. I had asked my assisstant (I had my own assisstant, for crying out loud) how best to prepare for the lesson. She told me,

"Review unit 1 through 3, and let's meet 30 minutes before class Saturday morning. Don't worry, you will be great."

Thirty. Minutes. Before class. Riiiight.

I prepare a ton of ideas about Units 1 through 3. The units are about colors and directions, swinging and singing and writing. very basic stuff for a class that I'm told will consist of 7-10 year olds. Oddly, or rather for me, appropriately, I am nervous about the size of the kids. I tell myself confidently I could easily beat these children in a physical test of strength or at worst, a fight. Immediately after having this thought I realize i am very strange. Still, these kids won't beat me up and rebel. One of the activities I come up with is placing different color beverages on a desk and getting the kids to choose them only with words. For example "I want the green one, to the right of the blue one, under the red one, etc. Also I plan on having them play Twister. I was nervous Friday night, for sure, but confident in my lessons.

Saturday morning Lily, my assisstant, told me that we are actually on Unit 8: Animals. 20 minutes before class. I had nothing, and I in my head was a line along the lines of "I am fucked."

It ended up cool. I had overestimated the students English, so I think next time I will have to remember to slow down and simplify my speech. The end of the class I turned one of their songs about birds into a "hip-hop" song and danced with them in the middle of the classroom. First day of work over.

2. Cheapu Lu! After class we headed to the beast of all Shanghai markets, after I got to spend a little time with Ms. Liu. I swear every minute with her feels really good. It's a shame games are played and time is short. I hate Cheapu Lu. It is basically a collection of large warehouses hollowed out, with dozens of little shops selling fake clothing and accessories. It is always crowded, hot, people bump into you, "Lai lai lai!", freaking peddlers chase you if you're foreign, and bargaining can be so tedious just for a pair of shorts. I ALWAYS get screwed, too.

But this time, we had some heavy firepower. Wenzi and Hong Si, two cute older Korean girls, have a reputation as Shou huo yuan favorites. The really big guns would be Super G's Shanghainese girlfriend and her friend. I bought three pairs of shoes, a button down, more Baby Milo, and something else too I forgot. Every purchase felt good. Plus, I think my past experiences hardened me so i had a lot more confidence going in. Cheapu Lu - 2 Me - 1. I'm coming back baby.

3. We went to Fu Dan da xue for dinner with Justin's friends.

When I saw Charlesy and King Wa interact for the first time it was like watching a God and a Titan face off. Both are large Chinese babies from overseas, Brazil and Indonesia to be precise, and both have a swagger about their speech and attitude. It was magic. Charlesy is laid back, top heavy like tank with little legs-i feel like his mind has three things going on: girls, beer, and meat...in that order. King has no shoulders and is more bottom heavy, but he's taller. While Charlesy often whips back his long hair and says things like "Maaaaan, we were fuucked...I gotta stop shooting so much in the clubs maan," King Wah is more clipped and agressive in his speech. Reflecting on a less than stellar score on his listening test, he told me "Ah don giva shit man! I got bachelor's degree!"

Anyways, the moment was special for me. As in, you had to be there. Seriously, it is very interesting here I'm not just pulling things out of my ass that aren't really entertaining. Ai...

Anyways again, Super Glen, K Cho, Hong Si and I are looking for apartments. It's going to be a different semester next year what with all our friends jumping ship. But I think we will study even harder, and be good roomates to boot. I'm going to the Philippines to stay with Super in his Manila mansion; he takes care of his friends, from brining back gifts for all of us to hooking up the very computer I use now. After Flip time, it's back to...USA! I will see all of you this summer. Much love as always. Zaijian

Navy SEALS meet Sparta!!!

Grueling workout with Randolph today, but I feel freaking great. A lot of friends going to Guandi tonight, which because of the music and caliber of women there has become my favorite night spot in Shanghai. Yet...I think i shall pass. My body is exhausted and, truth be told, I am growing weary of going out at night. Need a break.

Doug was acting the fool last night! When he sat down with us I thought his brain had been replaced by lines from various sitcoms he'd watched. Not that he isn't a genuinely funny person, but it was almost surreal when coupled with his dyed hair. As the night went on he calmed down and confirmed my suspicion that he is under a lot of mental stress right now. He wants to go to Yunnan next year to study; while i will be sad he is not with me in Shanghai I know we will stay brothers regardless of our locations. Same goes for Carlos back in D.C. Doug and i talked today and he is ailing a little. A diet of green beans, abstinence, and excercise should set him right as rain.

Speaking of Losy Los, I am glad he's found someone new. Viva la raza...and all that. Still loving Shanghai, and embracing taking it slow one night of rest at a time. Zaijian

You want something, kind of. You get it. You get tired of it and discard it and forget about it.

You want something; you think it is really important to you. You get it and realize it's not.

You want something really badly, and after some work you get a taste. But that's it, no more. Drives you crazy. This is where I am now. And honestly, it's a great feeling to feel this way again.


I wish I was going with the ABC crew to guilin! Studying today in the dim lights of tao li yuan was damn depressing. Seems like everyone is away on vacation. Yoon and co. leave today for the city of my dreams and the paradise that is Yangshuo. I wrote once upon a time that Guilin was like a glimpse of a beautiful girl you pass by on a perfect day. I wanted to know her, to return to her, but knew in my heart that by the time I returned she would be gone or at least irrevocably changed.

Randolph and Ocala are in Nanjing up to no good no doubt. Even Justin is teaching Japanese to someone and has been away all day. I feel damn alone. Solution? Basketball in the sun with some fellow stragglers, followed by weights in the gym. I want to see Doug. If I can't, guess I'll dial up one of these numbers in my phone and see what happens...

Missing fresh air and ocean breezes. Need a haircut.

zaijian

Last night Justin left Tao Li Yuan with a cigarette and a lighter in his hands. I got up from my books and ran after him; he doesn't smoke. He told me he felt heavy, and the root of the problem was Korean culture. While he tried to explain his feelings the language barrier was evident to both of us. He can speak Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and English-and I've listen his proficiency with these languages in order from best to worst. In Korea, seniority is a big, big deal. Justin told me it's hard to even be friends with someone older or younger than you. He doesn't have a close Korean guy friend here at Jiao Da. His closest friends are Yoon and I. Yoon lives off campus and is busy a lot, and I am not Korean.

Justin is a good guy, I will be there for him like I was last night, and I believe he will be there for me just as he has done many times in the past. He's brought me water when I was hung over, introduced me to pretty girls, helped my Chinese speaking, forced me to study at the library, and even been my manager when I was a model. He told me he wanted his kids to visit me one day in the States. He's my man.

Somewhere inside there is a desire to be on a rooftop in the late afternoon sun. On that rooftop there is food on a grill, and fresh fruit and cold drinks and friends sitting and standing and dancing and laughing. The dusk is something dreaded and welcomed at the same time. When a moment is good we want it to last forever! I saw this place a few days ago from the sports field at Jiao Tong. I have no idea if that apartment building roof would have looked anything like I pictured it in my mind's eye. Dusty and dirty, probably. But it's imagining moments and experiences that are so feasible and close, but also a little bit obscure, that stop me in my tracks. And i get called absentminded.

I want to write. That's what I feel right now. I am not a businessman, and i have never been good with numbers. Yoon told me he envies guys who can pursue what they want; he told me it's a lot harder than it seems. He is absolutely right. It was quite easy, now that I am here, to get here. That's not the destination of my personal legend, rather it was one of few initial steps. I am blessed indeed and in this moment things seem very clear. I wish to dispel all illusions except those that my imagination creates. Those I want to embrace and make reality.

I want to skip a stone on the still ocean and watch it soar like a comet with a bright burst of color behind it, rocketing down again and richocheting back up again and again, lighting up the waters with purple and green until it crashes against my body. In that moment I would splinter into fragments to be carried by the wind somewhere high and grassy. And then, I want the fragments to make a whole.



Wan an

I can't remember ever being in this situation, at least not very long. Then again, maybe I have been here many times over the past year. Except then I was on the opposite side. Just desserts.

Go home now, goodbye

Cab must be broken, it's vibrating so hard

Shower away the sins, and pray for moments of clarity.

Just got back from club Nu. By not drinking I was able to see through many illusions. The girls who came to sit with us were not only not that pretty, but also plainly, at the very least, "semi" pro. These girls in China who frequent the clubs look to foreigners as advantageous pieces to hold. Of course, foreigners also use Chinese girls to have a good time so I suppose there is a mutually benefical relationship going on. Still though, when my friend's girlfriend's friends (and I am a little dubious about his girlfriend, who works at the club, but have decided not to mention it to him because he is somewhat infatuated right now) came to sit with us at a table none of us knew we were getting ($$$), all I saw were money grubbing junior-hookers.
I felt i was seeing through the lights and beer goggles and sexy outfits and machismo even in its most benign form. Even a cheers and a pledge between guys to go out and have a good time felt rather shallow. Go out and do what? Drink more and hunt for more girls? I met three girls who did not work at the club who were friends of a girl I met at another club. I want to sigh right now kind of. As these girls and my more drunken and lively guy friends left, i stayed behind with Randolph, Justin, and his girlfriend. Randolph was as usual more unselfish than me, and demanded we keep our friend company. I wanted to get out of that club and into my bed.
And then something happened. I met our waitress. Not a flirtatious and flashy clad girl using sexuality to lighten wallets, but the girl who refilled our pitchers of green tea and Remy and cleaned off our tables. The quiet ones in plain black clothes who are barely seen. Well, she was awesome. Didn't speak a word of English. But she projected a personality that was soooo very genuine especialy juxtaposed with most of hte girls you find around these parts. By the end of the night Randolph and I had engaged her in a photo shoot, drank and joked with her (hope she doesn't get in trouble), and we also learned a new dice game from Juicy. That was her name, Juicy; she was a beacon of reality in a building that promised dreams but delivered hangovers.


Oh, and she was really, really, really cute. You can't totally shun superficiality right? zaijian

The Number 1 crew in the area

I think i may have mentioned the international makeup of my friends at Jiao Tong University. Today at a friend's apartment, however, I realized that I was the only American among Filipinos, Dutch, and a crazy Singaporean. It was some realization for me because it also struck me that much of the time here I am the only one who speaks good English without accent.

I have American friends here, to be sure. But aside from Kev the machine my closest friends in Shanghai are from South Korea and Singapore. Randolph, the aforementioned crazy Singaporean, is a tightly wound bundle of energy. Though he's only one year my senior, he seems a lot older than me or even some of truly older friends. He fulfilled his military duty in Singapore, drums for a good rock band, has some of the best Mandarin of any of the international students, had a past laced with crystal meth, dates a former KTV queen, and teaches wu shu and muay thai on the side. For some reason he and I click, I dunno why.

Randolph has a very deliberate and forceful way of speaking. Many people who are friends with him now say he was an asshole when they first met him. Ask him a question and there is a good chance he'll sneer and say something like "What the fuck, you moroooon," in his slightly English (Singlish) accent. When he plugs in his ipod he wont' even notice you if you walk right by him. So when i let him borrow my high priced noise cancelling headphones I braced myself for a euphoric reaction. Randolph didn't disappoint.

"I'm gonna start head banging!!!"
"Fucking maaad."
*Insane laughter*
"My head is vibrating!"

He is extremely honest and upfront with everyone, including me. We talk about things like work, wasting time, training, martial arts, love and lust, books, music (He's teaching me about American rock n roll...aint' that a b?), and movies. I think out of K, him and me, Randolph is the only one truly serious when we talk about going to be Shaolin Monks. I'll miss him when he goes back at the end of the semester.

"Why you laughing? Is there something funny about my thrust or have i hit your f spot"

girls

I told TJ the other night that I was scared I would never grow up. I told him I felt like one of those flies with a lifespan of a day, knowing nothing but a frantic search for some semblance of love in a mate before a painless but cruelly early demise. We laughed about it, but I was only half-joking.

Since the end of 2 years of semi- 'love' I have felt like a lost soul. Now here I am in this huge city of lights and clubs, foreigners and sharks. A city without a soul. Shanghai.

Wolf in Sheeps Clothing.

Some people told me I have many girls. Should I count myself lucky? I don't think so, because someone who "has many" is obviously not satisfied with any of them. I look at the couples I have met, sharing this Shanghai experience, and I feel envious. I am still scared to DEATH of relationships, but I know I am only scared of that initial committment. Once you get to a know a person, American, Korean, Chinese, etc. and you find the things that make love possible and great and special...I don't have to look around. I can focus on what is important, and include that significant other in the joys that give life meaning.

Something like love could give a place like this a soul. But someone once told me you never find love when you look for it, it can only find you. I am nervous I will have dropped dead by then.



P.S.- i am writing this on my new laptop. sweet. zaijian

It's been a long time

First Friday staying in. I know if i hit up a club i would be coaxed into breaking my detox a mere week into it. At least i know I have no will power. Headed to Tao Li and what should I find but Super G breakdancing with Huynh Seok, two other Koreans, and Kev. Horsing around, playing grab ass, philandering Filipino, shooting the shit, whatever it was we were having a good time with no cover charge and no alcohol. Dialed the number of a Chinese girl named Emily, it had been hanging from a tree. She picked up, we all met up, and now she will be our friend and guide in Shanghai. Kev needs a language partner!!! The nuhaizi are too much, but I feel very healthy working out regularly so maybe i can keep up.

I was worried Doug was mad at me, then I heard he tore ligaments in his arm. Gonna visit him tomorrow at Libby's to patch us up now that he's patched up. Before that, it's time to lead an entourage to cheapu lu and buy fake stuff. Gotta get fake stuff, and lots of it. Still like it a lot here. Still in the process of getting that laptop. But I have priced them at least!!! Tony two tone is checking for better deals. These names must be annoying for anyone reading this, but I have this weird inclination to not use real names. Dui le! I just realized that I have no camera and no photos. This blog must be quite boring then. Aiya. Next time. Zaijian

time to get serious

Woke up about 11 in the morning yesterday but probably totalled about five hours of sleep the whole weekend. I missed my basketball game with Doug and the Shanghai OGs (Foreign Experts, hot shower division) 2nd week in a row. Sorry for that, gege. I went with Solomon and his Japanese JET friend Cathleen to get famous Xiao Long Bao around the Yu Yuan Gardens. I was tired and blurry eyed, but I could still appreciate just how Chinese this part of SHanghai was. This may sound stupid, but Shanghai isn't exactly the most Chinese of cities. Yu Yuan gardens had a lot more traiditional buildings that reminded me of Beijing, Hangzhou, and other cities I have seen.

It's insane, I am listening to G's Filipino music, eating American style hickory bbq bacon, and feeling like I am in the NYC of Chinese cities. I miss Hangzhou, Yangshuo, Xian, and China. That's funny, that's insane, that's MATH. I'ev decided to go under dtox to not only take care of my liver but also because I feel like I am clubbing and bar hopping when I should be taking care of my health mentally physically and spiritually. Think i'll make a trip to Jing An temple. To the Baby, I'm still being "bad".

Started training with JT and Kev. JT is a combat loving Singaporean with an interesting past and knowledge of street food. It's fun to work out with guys who are just as dedicated as you are about excercise. Wow that sounded rather queer of me, and yet it's true. Kev knows a whole bunch about no-gym-needed workouts and I am loving it. Almost makes me regret joining a gym.

Ever Justin has somehow become my hunter. Everyday he learns new English phrases to insult me with. Two nights ago it was "It doesn't look good on you." Yesterday it was "You are greasy." Last few days are a blur. Time to see tings clearly. Zaijian

I have bought one of three electronic items i NEED in Shanghai: english>chinese dictionary. Now I need a digital camera so i can take pictures of the people and places here (and post those up) and a laptop. Then, I will be free to spend my money on clothes that I want. The desire for nice looking clothes at reasonable prices was buoyed by my time at Urban (shout out to the UO spence, rorraine, will, dro, mike sizzle, and the always delicious taco bell). Also, the cheapu lu market has so much fake stuff, and good quality fakes, so it's hard not to want to fill my little room with the fabrics of Asia.

Besides the dorm guys, my class (who I'm meeting for dinner tonight), the Shanghai OGs, Doug, and the locals I meet, I have made friends with a crazy Korean Jung Jae. We call him Justin. He calls me crazy. Some way or another we have become study buddies and brothers. I'm actually using Soloman's computer while Justin plays PSP. He just said "Gege xie xie" for putting him in my blog. Unfortunately, while it is his way of joking, he introduces me to people with "He is a player". All in all, he is a very happy go lucky guy who studies HARD. I think that I have learned that Japanese study hard, Koreans study harder, and Americans study when they feel guilty about not studying. Damn, I should study.

I am tired though. Growing my hair out for the first time. Natalia and Elaine say it will not go with my face, but they can cram it with walnuts. I really want to try, and maybe when I start my real job someday I won't be able to. Besides, long hair on guys is more common in Shanghai. I am very easy to talk to, kind, peaceful, vain, selfish, and lazy. Time will tell if these traits are compatible with my goal of learning Chinese, as well as if they will change.

"Everyday I am ignored by Dawei, ta hen you yisi."
-Justin

"I'm too drunk, to taste this chicken."
-Col. Sanders

My Liver, my class

I got my passport, after 3 whole weeks during which i learned to appreciate its importance to me, and my medical report back. The passport had the X Visa (sounds cool, oh) stamped, while my medical report had everything checked in the right place. Except my liver. "Infiltration of fatty something". Lipids maybe? Something to do with drinking less. I felt a pain in my stomach region which I suppose could have been my liver. Like my main man Bas Rutten said, "Stab, in the liver." Or maybe he said stab and deliver.
Anyways, it made me think of the last time I drank, a couple weekends ago at Club BonBon. Mostly Trance, BonBon has a pretty cool layout including a Hip Hop (or as some stupid foreigners call it, Rn B) Room. A group of friends, some old but mostly new, treated me to all I could drink and reserved a table at the club. I wasn't ashamed to tell them that this was the first birthday party I had ever had at least in the post cake and bday hat era. It felt something warm stir in my heart as we toasted with assorted drinks in hand. This something was quickly washed away for though the drinks might h ave been assorted, all of them were made with the cheapest, harshest liquor ever. I forgot parts of the night, including some of the people I met. But I can attest I had a great time.

Until I saw that medical report about my liver.

Anyways I'm trying to eat right, drink less, excercise, bla bla bla. My Chinese classes, the reason I came to Jiao Da, are verrrrry challenging. I had to drop down a level for while my reading is comparitively good, my comprehension and speaking are embarrassing. It is quite frustrating, and makes me really wish Gu Laoshi had taught the Eckerd course entirely in Chinese. Cuz that's what I'm getting now. Though this is immersion, almost all of my friends at school speak ENglish pretty well. It makes me think that I should not hang out with them. But then, even the chinese I meet speak English better than I speak Chinese. Aiya. I have been putting in the hours studying, but I find myself concentrating on new words and grammar, and less on spoken. It's like the evil elephant in the room that I must acknowledge, wrestle with, and master. Indeed, if I do not ride that wild beast what's the use in being here? Zao Gao.

On the plus side, the weather here sucks. It's so dry! I need moisture like a bug or a plant does. Hayato is the man, and the guys in the dorm remind me of college days. We saw the 300 a couple nights ago. Not bad, a poor man's Gladiator. I think Maximus would take out King Leonidus, but that is just my personal opinion. Pay attention at the end, it's the same exact freaking song as Gladiator ending. I've been watching a lot of movies lately. Being half Chinese is still totally awesome. Bwahahhaha. I think this jiao zi is making me delirious. Or maybe it's just the air here. Zaijian

Settlin In to a Nest

While still getting used to the new country, new tiny dorm room with terrible bathroom, funky water, and pushy people, I made new friends fast.

I met Elaine, a lawyer from Malaysia, totally by chance the day of registration when I was starting to give up mentally. What a wimp, I know. But I went to the manager's office, we smiled at each other, and then went out to explore. Besides my already established contacts, Elaine is my first official friend at Jiao Tong and at Shanghai, and she's been busting my balls ever since.

At the Bank of China, where the wait for a teller was over 2 hours, I met Yoon from South Korea. Turns out, he studied in the States for 9 years, and five of those years were at St. Alban's High School...right down the street from me in good old Washington, D.C. Small world. Yoon is my guide, my buddy, and the general manager for the Jiao Tong International Students Women's Farm League. Obviously fluent in Korean, he speaks English like an American, and his Chinese is high level. Hanging out with him feels like cheating, as I jsut let him do the ordering and talking. We eat, drink, play basketball, and have a good time

I thought I would never be able to distinguish street names (it took me at least 4 days to get the name of our International School building right..."Tao Li Yuan") but my bubble has been growing. Already I am getting tired of the places to eat around our campus. There are multiple gates to exit the school, and the closest to my dorm and Tao Li Yuan is called Panyu Lu Kou. There is a Korean restaurant that serves as fine dining for Yoon and I, a xiao long bao place that gets hit up all the time and at all hours, and many cheap Chinese rice places. Oh and one Cantonese style restaurant that is a little more expensive. Walk down Hongqiao Road, a much bigger Lu (Street) than Panyu, and you will see the bright lights, graphics, and people at Xiu Jia Hui. This place reminds one that Shanghai is very modern, high end, and technology oriented. It's a bit of a rush for me compared to the few blocks around Jiao Tong. And that is kind of funny, because Xiu Jia Hui is really only a few blocks from Jiao Tong. I figure I will be somewhat overwhelmed when I venture further out to places like the Bund; I've seen Shanghai before but it's different when you think of a place as your new home.


This blog already is kind of random, because I started it several weeks after getting here. CURRENTLY, I have a fever and have missed two days of classes. My bathroom is broken, but Doug is letting me stay at his place. Clos, Spence, and Chloemon have been keeping in good contact, and lil Wong as well. It surprised me a little, but Dad has been the best at keeping emails, and now two CALLS, flowing. Miss everyone, and maybe I'll post again later tonight considering I think I will be under house arrest and liquor is the last (college kids would say first) thing I need. Zaijian

My first Impressions of Shanghai, and Jiao Tong

Angry and solemn-faced strangers pushing their way through a dense network of metal, concrete, and cigarette smoke. It is easy to feel alone in a new place, and I feel like a little kid being dropped off by his dad, Day # 1 of Kindergarten, when Doug waves goodbye after telling the cab driver where to go.

This is not like last spring. Last spring I would venture out into Chinese cities alone knowing that I had a group of Americans back at the hotel, and yet feeling like I didn't need them because I was a traveler who liked to experience things away from other Americans. It is a lot easier to walk a tightrope with a safety net below. My confidence now is gone, I dread having to speak Chinese after having not practiced. The smiles and wondrous stares I remembered getting from Xian to Xiamen aren't here in the most modern city in Shanghai. Jiao Tong University didn't even give us info on where to go for registration. A feeling has set up shop in my gut. And as I find myself looking at signs for building all in Chinese characters, the feeling opens his round mouth and is saying "What the Hell am I doing in this place?"

So i get into Pudong Airport, Shanghai...

And I realize that there is a good possibility my checked bag was left in Beijing. Maybe it was just that things were going a little too well, or that I felt like I had energy even after the 12+ hour flight, or that I had assumed that my bag was going from San Fran to Beijing automatically. Well, I wait around and no bag. I find a decent English speaking airline worker and get it sorted after about a half hour (hoping my contact isn't getting impatient). I have to come back to the airport tomorrow to pick it up in the Xia Wu (afternoon). Cool. So I walk out of the baggage claim...

And my contact, Doug, is nowhere to be found. Doug is my gege, my older brother. He is one of my two best friends in the whole wide world and one of the reasons I chose to study in Shanghai. He is also somewhat of an irresponsible goof. I don't panic until I realize I NEVER got his phone number. I am somewhat of an idiot.

Finally, an hour after we agreed to meet, I get access to the internet and contact Drek. He is a Shanghai OG and knows Doug, and finally the connection is made. Dougie was waiting with his girlfriend at the INTERNATIONAL arrivals, even though i had sent him a message i was transferring at Beijing. Well, I was all smiles and happy not to be lost on my first night in the big city.

P.S. - we get back to Doug's apartment and he accuses me of not giving him information. We log into his facebook account and see that he never looked at the message i sent him in the first place. That's my bro.