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.