GRRR

First of all let me say that blogger software pretty much sucks. I wrote a really long entry and then when I went to post it, it told me to enter my password, then when I did, it accidentally deleted my entry. Also, let me say that webshots software is incredible. Using only my digital camera and this amazing software I have posted a bunch of pictures with hilarious captions at:

http://community.webshots.com/user/skcormot

Please take a moment to enjoy these pictures, as I spent a depressing amount of time writing the captions for them.

Ok, so if I had posted my post that blogger deleted, you would have known that the most traumatic dining experience involved some Mongolian Barbecue, and a hilarious story that only a priviledged few will ever hear. But last saturday I had a close second. For a little background let me say that on Friday all I had was a small chicken sandwhich from McDonalds and some Raman noodles. Then Saturday we went to the Great Wall, where the only food they had all day was a lemon-cola popsicle, which was actually quite tasty, standing in sharp contrast to the frozen slime popsicle of my previous experience. Nonetheless, I was starving upon returning to Beijing Normal University and in need of a truly hearty meal.

I went with a large group of kids, that included my roommate and the "RA" of the trip, to a restaurant that smelled strongly of paint thinner. This foreboding omen aside, the place looked pretty decent, they even brought us up to the private dining rooms upstairs. Unfortunately there was only room for about 10 people in each room, and our group was at least 20. The student's randomly split up into the two rooms, which meant that I ended up in the room with all the Asians that were in fifth year Chinese.

As the RA went off to order for the group, I sat quietly as everyone talked and laughed, greatful that no one was trying to drag me into the conversation. Suddenly, though, my good luck came to an end, as some kid engaged me and began speaking gibberish. Thankfully, by this point, I've learned that all introductory Chinese conversations will proceed the same, in the same order, and with the same questions. First they will ask you your Chinese name, then your English name, what university you go to, and what grade your in. Rarely, they may ask you major, but never more than this. With this in mind I confidently "conversed" with my new friend:

"dfanm,vc?"
"Wu shyh chau" I said which is my Chinese name.
"dafv cmz?"
"Thomas Knight"
"eiokldmv?"
"Princeton"
"Eadsfav?"
"Junior"
"vmn,z ws?"
"Economics"
"Dfc,mzvn?"

I panicked. This guy was breaking all types of protocol. There wasn't supposed to be a sixth question! He was supposed to ask me my major, and then smile and nod, and find someone that actually spoke Chinese. I was saved by the waiter, though, who brought in the first course of the meal and distracted everyone's attention.

Now remember, at this point, I am completely starving, having not eaten a decent meal in two days. I am ready for the orange flavored chicken, and the beef with brocolli, and the shrimp fried rice! The first course is roots. Not one kind of root, two kinds of root. One is red, one is colorless, though they suck equally. Worry not, I think, this is but the first course, to clear our pallettes and ready us for the inevitable feast that is to come our way!

The next course was crawfish with the eyes still attached, and it only got worse from there. After the "Chinese Meatball" and "Tofu Stew", I grew hopefull as they brought out some sort of noodle dish. But I knew better than to dig in right away.

"Mian?" I asked the person sitting next to me, which means noodles.
"Eel" he said, breaking the no English rule, though this must go down as one of the more noble acts of civil disobedience ever. Repulsed, I sat and ate a small bowl of white rice.

I managed to pay for my share of the meal (at 4 dollars, the most expensive yet, by far), and break away to the local KFC. There, I enjoyed a delicious spicy chicken sandwich, and fries with eel sauce.

As I mentioned, we went to the great wall on saturday, which was truly a FINE experience. I mean, truly a great experience! The fine thing was from the shirt I got a singapore which you would know about if you looked at my pictures!

The great wall is a marvelous spectacle that you can visit, and its in China. When you first get there you have to walk through a crowded marketplace set up for tourists like you, where the items for sale include cold water, cheap t-shirts, and the horribly butchered english language.

"Cod wala!" they shout, and you have to wonder, do I sound that dumb when I speak Chinese, and then you have to stop wondering, because the answer is probably yes.

After you walk through the marketplace you have to walk through a bunch of confusing rooms and gardens that have large stones and "Stalactites" in them. From my many childhood visits to mammtoh caves in Kentucky, I had learned that stalactites are typically formed from the mineral sediment in water drops dripping from the ceilings of caves over thousands of years. Apparently the Chinese definition of stalactites is a mound of ugly concrete hastily poured in an attempt to impress naive tourists. Well, I can say this much, it worked! I was in complete awe of the amazing "Stalactite Garden" and decided to spend my day there, rather than going to the Great Wall.

But, my teachers told me I had to stick with the group, and the group decided to keep going. On the way up, we saw a sign that said that at this section of the Great Wall, you could walk 3,000 meters before conditions deteriorated. I immediately had my goal and began a light jog up and down slanted stairs and dodgy stones. I soon made a friend, by virtue of the fact that he was the only other one jogging on the great wall, and we began to encourage each other as they going got rough.

I can tell you this much, it is no wonder that the Chinese are all so healthy if they are using the Great Wall for their work out regimen. This thing is an absolute beast, with tons of elevation change and sweltering heat to boot. I truly regretted bringing my heavy backpack, filled with a sweatshirt, two 500 page books, and a xbox gaming system with bose surround sound speakers, and a full-sized dolphin.

By the time we reached the top, we were dead tired but happy to have made it. We were considering going past the "do not go past this sign" sign, but there was a guard there guarding it. The guard was listening to a radio actually. "Crazy in Love". Beyonce.

We made our way back down to the bus, where we noticed on the way, and this was a truly surreal experience, a slide going from the top of the Great Wall to the parking lot. I was supremely interested in doing this, but none of my classmates seemed to excited about dying so early in their Princeton in Beijing experience. If you wanna know what I mean about dying, I will show you the video when I get back. People were going at least 20 mph and the only safety measure was a Chinese guy with a megaphone shouting "GO SLOWER!" in broken english.

Right now, it is two days later and my calf muscles are still absolutely killing me. Stairs have become my mortal enemy and aspirin my only friend. I am about to go on a little walking tour of the campus so that I get some good pictures of what Beijing looks like, and then it's time to hit the books. Zai jian!

Communism Rules!

Oh the things I have seen!

Tonight I was planning to go to McDonalds, because I did not feel like walking to a far away Chinese restaurant. Then a friend showed me a bunch of Chinese restaurants that were very close to the campus, leading to my profound thought: "dinner is what happens when you're planning to go to McDonald's". The best part of this whole thing was that the restaurant we went to was serving "spicy rape". McDonalds only has sweet and sour rape.

Then on the way back we saw a kid with a pet duck walking around.

I also forgot to write that on Saturday I went to Tianamen square with John Snyder and we saw some sites and so on. When you go to Tianamen square it is just flooded with tourists and so there are a bunch of Chinese people looking to make a quick buck. One guy tried to sell me a book of Mao's quotations for 10 dollars american. I wanted to practice my Chinese, so I told him it was too big. It was a proud moment for me.

There is a guy that plays Sim City 1 every day, on the dorm computers, which cost 50 cents an hour to use (maybe this pricing scheme is how the rapper got his namesake). I figure he's sitting there 8 hours a day, which comes to 4 dollars a day, but overall I think it's not a bad way to live your life.

I'm sure this thought has occured to every foreign language student, but I really wish that I could just get plugged in like Neo and instantly know Chinese. It would be awesome, they would put the chord in the back of my neck, punch a couple of keys, and then I would sit up and say, "Je connais le Chinois", because it is a big program and it also teaches you French.

China

So here's what I did. I found my worst class and my worst subject, and decided to spend the summer doing only that for 8 hours a day. I got into Beijing a on Thursday, and I have taken a couple of pictures so far which I will post. When I went to New York City it inspired me to write a lot in my blog, but I'm not sure if I see that happening here. For one thing, I am very busy and distraught here, because, as I said, I am not very good at Chinese. One of the things they make you do here is speak only Chinese, except on phone calls home and blog posts, so come to think of it, I might end up writing a lot.

For the flight here, my dad somehow decided to put me on business class. Now I'm not saying my dad is cheap, but when he sits around the house, he sits around the house and refuses to throw away foodstuffs well past their expiration date! (thankyou jokes.com) As it turns out though, he had a whole bunch of Singapore Airline frequent flier miles that he wanted to ditch, because these days airlines tend to go out of business rendering frequent flier miles as worthless as the paper they're printed on, which, for Singapore air, is actually solid gold papyrus. Maybe this explains his concern over their financial well-being.

I flew in a day before the program started, so I was to stay in Beijing Landmark Towers. My mom had found a little currency for me in a chest of drawers, which I hoped was enough to get me to the hotel. The amount was 65 RMB, which is about 8 bucks. I hailed a taxi and got in with a massive, sweaty, Chinese man, whose religion, presumably, forbade the buttoning of a shirt.

"Beijing Landmark Towers" I said.
"vcdahjpgeinv" he said.
"Beijing Landmark Towers" I said.
"Hen hao" he said, which means very good, though I must admit I didn't feel very good. I felt very bad. As the Chinese would say: not hen hao.

Miraculously, he took to me to the right hotel. I looked down at the meter. Wow, I thought 65 kuay exactly! What are the odds that I would have the exact right amount of currency from some random drawer in my house?

"Hen hao" I said, and motioned for him to stop. But he decided to drive about 6 inches farther as the meter ticked to 66 kuay. God was sending me message. Your best isn't good enough, god said. I gave the driver 65 kuay and an American dollar which I think he really liked, because he was giggling with joy.

The next morning I walked to a Chinese supermarket, and stopped at a Chinese bathroom on the way. Let me say this: the only thing that smells worse than a Chinese bathroom is a Chinese supermarket. I saw such things in this store that I would not wish eating them upon anyone. The aquarium in the back, though was truly impressive, featuring eel, lobster, giant fish, and a scale model of the Titanic disaster, which we can only assume was somehow edible, or else was wasting valuable space that could have been used to house at least fifteen slime fish.

Now I am at Beijing Normal University, in my comfortably appointed dorm room (excepting the matress which must have been constructed from some unholy alloy of granite and steel). There is an air coditioner and power outlets and everything you'd expect in an American dorm room. Beijing, is in fact, very similar to New York City, right down to the thick layer of filth which coats the streets and sidewalks. I must confess that I have even been to the local McDonalds, which featured the Big Dog Burger, an allusion, I hope, to the size of the dish, rather than the more likely alternative (note for PETA: there is actually no such thing as the big dog burger, it is only a joke! To eat dog, you must go to the KFD, next door. hi-oh!)

There are some things different that you notice though. For example, my friend John and I didn't see a police car for our first two days here, and when we did see one, it was a beat up old VW. We guessed that even a civic driver could succesfully outrun a police chase, if his heart was into it. Also, at first, we noticed a suspicious absence of pets. Recently I've seen some people walking dogs, although they all look the exact same (the dogs, not the people...actually both) causing me to wonder if it is just the same dog being walked over and over.

We also hadn't seen a gas station until yesterday, and when we did find one, they fueled their cars not with petroleum, but with bamboo and ancient Chinese poetry. It was truly a magical scene to behold, although things took a turn for the worse when we were spotted and forced to pay the ultimate price, by getting the infamous Chinese bowl haircut. That's another thing you will notice. This town has at least three barber shops ever city block. But that's what you get, I guess, when your nation is so populus and said population has such exotic tastes in hairstyles.

I am now going to the library, now, to see what Chinese books look like, and, if I'm lucky, how a Chinese librarian scolds.

My New Job

You should know that I've been busy on account of it's break, and during break you must do things like get your ipod fixed, buy cereal, watch 10 episodes of 24 waiting for you on Tivo, and get sick.

Why I got sick is an interesting story. Whenever I come home there is always the pressure to make money. My mom is always reminding me to make money with helpful reminders like "get a job" and "If you don't get a job then I will stop buying you tappiocca pudding" which she says, or spells in magnetic poetry on, you guessed it, the fridge (containing the tappiocca pudding).

So, we look in the phone book for what place would possibly hire a 19 year old with no skills who is available for about 4 days. There is one job typing and one job doing manual labor for a company called Labor Ready. Now, one thing I've learned in your life is that you have to play to your strength's so my first choice was obviously the labor. Manual labor appealed to my main strength: my strength! If there was an application I WOULD HAVE WRITEN THIS.

But there wasn't an application. When I arrived at the "office" which was really a large empty room: half carpeted but fully depressing, I found a morbidly obese women listening to "If you don't know me by now" and eating Taco Bell. The song was appropriate, because in an instant I knew more about her than I would ever have cared to.

She told me I had to fill out a 73 question survey to see if I qualified for the job. The survey was a laugh riot! Here's an example of some of the questions:

1. When was the last time you smoked Weed?
a) today
b) within a month
c) never

2. When was the last time you were in a fist fight?
a) today
b) within a month
c) never

3.When was the last time you did angel dust
etc...

The questions rotated between drugs and fist fights, and I was doing well until this bizzare question:

16. If you got in a fist fight right now, would you win?
a) yes
b) maybe
c) probably not
d) no

Answering yes would suggest strength and perseverance. Also, if it was a fight over safety, for example, my boss is instructing my men to transport hazardous waste in their bare hands and I go "not on my watch" and then he starts fighting me, it would probably be good if I could win the fight. But I put no. I was just trying to be honest.

They called my house at 8 am the next morning with my first assignment. I was going to be moving boxes into storage. I got to the work site and I met my disgruntled Eastern European boss named Emil. Emil was the kind of guy, that when I meet people like him I wonder what it's like to have no joy in your life. Emil's favorite word, I think, was "idiot", and his favorite sentence was "don't put that there you idiot".

I was not too much help moving as it turns out, because I'm actually not strong, but my coworker got the job done. I felt bad when he shouldered the brunt of a 300 pound granite table top from a moving van, but not bad enough to not accept the exact same pay as him.

When we were done unloading the boxes I figured the job was over, but Emil had one more task in mind. We were to help him fold his filthy, infested moving blankets and put them back in the van. These blankets were like nothing I'd ever dealt with, invoking sneezes galore and a near vomit experience, discretely supressed but foul tasting nonetheless. Speaking of taste, my taste test of a white powder upon one of the blankets was inconclusive with regards to anthrax, but I remain highly suspicious.

At the end of our work shift (9 am-2pm) Emil was to fill out my workslip. Under hours worked he wrote 5, whispering kindly, "the extra hour is your tip". I didn't have the energy to teach emil the concept of arithmetic then and there, so I got into my car and drove to hq. There, I received 33 dollars in cash at hq and headed home.

The next morning I woke up with an aching sore throat and a runny nose (please note: two symptoms of anthrax). I used the money to pay back my mom, because I owed her 30 dollars from the night before. All in all, an awesome experience and I would definitely do it again. Thanks Labor Ready for making my dream come true!