This beautiful piece of work makes my life indescribably more enjoyable.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Sunflower
This is my new bike. I have a funny story about how I got it, but you will just have to enjoy the pictures for now.
This beautiful piece of work makes my life indescribably more enjoyable.
This beautiful piece of work makes my life indescribably more enjoyable.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Turns Out . . .
I have a real job.
This is only augmented by the fact that the administration made me a 'Group Leader" for a group of all first timers (myself included, obviously). This basically just means that I have to keep everyone cohesive and coherent, and formulate group plans, quizzes, tests, and exams. Oh, and it also means my head is first on the chopping block when something goes in a direction less than ideal.
It was kind of a strange decision on the part of the administration seeing as everyone else in the group is older, more experienced in one way or another, and male. I am really happy with the added responsibility, and as I started to do some work on it this morning, I found it to be near second nature.
Another thing that is second nature for me is having this many books although, while I was in college, the topics were a little different.
This is only augmented by the fact that the administration made me a 'Group Leader" for a group of all first timers (myself included, obviously). This basically just means that I have to keep everyone cohesive and coherent, and formulate group plans, quizzes, tests, and exams. Oh, and it also means my head is first on the chopping block when something goes in a direction less than ideal.
It was kind of a strange decision on the part of the administration seeing as everyone else in the group is older, more experienced in one way or another, and male. I am really happy with the added responsibility, and as I started to do some work on it this morning, I found it to be near second nature.
Another thing that is second nature for me is having this many books although, while I was in college, the topics were a little different.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
When Conversation is Expensive
Orientation continues at a blindingly fast pace, and I have had little time to write. I still struggle with the balance between going out and experiencing versus documenting at my ideal amount. So far, I have almost unanimously gone out to gain experiences rather than staying the apartment to write.
Yesterday’s training joined forces with the rest of the people from the Marshall Program, who came to our campus for a few key sessions. After orientation ended for the day, we all loaded up onto a tour bus and headed down to Pudong for a banquet and a cruise. The location of the banquet was right below the Pearl Tower, which might be one of the most impressive feats of architecture I have seen in person.
Devon and I sat in the very front seat of the bus, where we had a clear view of the entire drive to Pudong. The view was amazing, as it was much higher than that of a taxi and I was able to get an even better appreciation for the infrastructure of this gigantic city. Toward the beginning of the drive, I pulled out my camera to take a picture of our metro station and found out that it was totally out of battery. I was pretty pissed, but then I remembered something that my mentor here at the school advised me when talking to me about getting along in China; control what you can control, let the rest roll off you. So, I quickly let it go, and just made sure some of the others were getting the pictures I wanted. Haha.
The banquet was pretty awesome. The food was great, and the beer just kept coming. We all shared twelve dishes or more. A few of my favorites were the scallops, the a beef dish, and a really tasty tofu. They served us a plate of 1,000 year old eggs, but I was not quite ready to try them, so I passed on that. I figure I have ten months. Can’t have all the food fun in the first few days . . .
After we stuffed ourselves to oblivion, we took a huge group picture, and then headed out to the dock to board the cruise that took us around the banks the Haungpu River. We saw the skyline of Pudong and the Bund. I really wish I had pictures to augment this post, because I still do not have the time to go into detailed description of what everything looks, sounds, smells like here in Shanghai. The views from the cruise might have been beyond the descriptive capacity of words anyway.
As a little challenge, the leaders of the orientation only reserved the bus to take us to the banquet. We were responsible to find our own ways back home. The group I was with decided after the cruise that we were not ready to call it a night, and that we might as well make use of the free transportation to downtown and go do some sightseeing. We were a little restricted because we didn’t have a map, a guidebook, or a phrase book, so we thought we would play it safe and attempt to go to People’s Square, which is the largest tourist attraction in Shanghai. We walked to the nearest metro station from the Pearl Tower, and then took line 1 to the People’s Square station.
Turns out that the specific exit you use when leave any metro station is very important, as it can change your direction and orientation drastically. Apparently we used the wrong exit because we could not, even after some serious searching, find People’s Square. So, instead, we ended up walking. And we just kept walking. The goal in mind was a bar, but we could find no such thing. We probably walked for at least twelve city blocks, or for about an hour or more. We stopped at a fruit stand finally and pieced together our best collective attempt at a question concerning direction. The woman working the stand said she didn’t know, but pointed us in a direction which we had no good reason not to follow.
We ended up in what must have been the Chinese equivalent of Chinatown, only for Japan. So, we ended up in Japantown, and saw a sign that said “CoffeePub” and considering our absolute lack of other options, decided to check it out. I was a little concerned by the fact that the windows were blocked with white drapes, and I was soon to find out how legitimate my concern was.
I think the formal phrase for the type of bar we ended up in is “Conversation bar” where patrons (mostly male) pay for company. Just like our first night out into the city, this experience also deserves a description of which I have not the time to give, but will be putting it on my list of stories to expand for later.
In a nutshell, we drank, the women talked to the men in the group, and we sang karaoke. The night ended up being a lot more expensive than we had originally anticipated having been quoted at 15 kuai a beer, but the entertainment of the awkward yet awesome situation was worth the difference between the price of my beer and the price I was actually asked to pay. I am not sure the last time I laughed so hard, and it only got funnier in the cab ride back.
We made it back to school by 12am, I was asleep by 12:30am, and then I was up by 5:45 when by boys in the dorms that face my bedroom window started their military drills.
I suppose I could spend a little bit of time describing the complicated schedule I posted yesterday. This semester I will be teaching four classes (two English, two History) which meet for a combined 17 hours a week. For my English classes, I will be teaching non-native students, meaning that English is not their primary or even, perhaps, their secondary language. Their skills may be quite good, however, because ESL is actually the lowest level of language proficiency here at the school, and I am about a step and a half above that.
One of my classes is a world history class, and spans from ancient to modern times using one of the thickest books I have ever seen. I teach this class at a 9th grade level. My second history class is what I am most excited about, as it is world history of the 20th century at 11th grade level, which is the highest level I teach and the subject closests to my degree in sociology.
As for my English classes, one is 9th grade and one is 10th grade. In the beginning, I didn’t really know what to think about my schedule, but one of the veteran teachers helped me pick out the positives. For example, I don’t have any classes Monday morning or Friday afternoon. This will allow me to get a lot of work done before the weekend, and then recover and re-organize appropriately after the weekend.
My classes are a little larger than I was expecting, each with over twenty students. In all, I have 90 students. I literally have no idea how I am going to learn their names, and distinguish their faces, but I know that all I can really do is take it one day at a time.
We have one more day of orientation left, and then we have the weekend to prepare ourselves for our first classes Monday. Sometimes, I think about getting up in front of the class for a little too long and get nervous, but I find if I really don’t think about it that much, or only think about it in limited ways, I have very little nervousness or concern. I need to spend the next few days arousing within myself the mentality of a teacher. It was not so long ago that I was a student, so it is a pretty big jump.
That is about it for now. I am hoping to have a relaxed weekend, but that is unlikely to happen. I would like to be able to write a few detailed documentations of some of my experiences here in Shanghai, so I will try and make some time for that in between all of my various teaching preparations.
Yesterday’s training joined forces with the rest of the people from the Marshall Program, who came to our campus for a few key sessions. After orientation ended for the day, we all loaded up onto a tour bus and headed down to Pudong for a banquet and a cruise. The location of the banquet was right below the Pearl Tower, which might be one of the most impressive feats of architecture I have seen in person.
Devon and I sat in the very front seat of the bus, where we had a clear view of the entire drive to Pudong. The view was amazing, as it was much higher than that of a taxi and I was able to get an even better appreciation for the infrastructure of this gigantic city. Toward the beginning of the drive, I pulled out my camera to take a picture of our metro station and found out that it was totally out of battery. I was pretty pissed, but then I remembered something that my mentor here at the school advised me when talking to me about getting along in China; control what you can control, let the rest roll off you. So, I quickly let it go, and just made sure some of the others were getting the pictures I wanted. Haha.
The banquet was pretty awesome. The food was great, and the beer just kept coming. We all shared twelve dishes or more. A few of my favorites were the scallops, the a beef dish, and a really tasty tofu. They served us a plate of 1,000 year old eggs, but I was not quite ready to try them, so I passed on that. I figure I have ten months. Can’t have all the food fun in the first few days . . .
After we stuffed ourselves to oblivion, we took a huge group picture, and then headed out to the dock to board the cruise that took us around the banks the Haungpu River. We saw the skyline of Pudong and the Bund. I really wish I had pictures to augment this post, because I still do not have the time to go into detailed description of what everything looks, sounds, smells like here in Shanghai. The views from the cruise might have been beyond the descriptive capacity of words anyway.
As a little challenge, the leaders of the orientation only reserved the bus to take us to the banquet. We were responsible to find our own ways back home. The group I was with decided after the cruise that we were not ready to call it a night, and that we might as well make use of the free transportation to downtown and go do some sightseeing. We were a little restricted because we didn’t have a map, a guidebook, or a phrase book, so we thought we would play it safe and attempt to go to People’s Square, which is the largest tourist attraction in Shanghai. We walked to the nearest metro station from the Pearl Tower, and then took line 1 to the People’s Square station.
Turns out that the specific exit you use when leave any metro station is very important, as it can change your direction and orientation drastically. Apparently we used the wrong exit because we could not, even after some serious searching, find People’s Square. So, instead, we ended up walking. And we just kept walking. The goal in mind was a bar, but we could find no such thing. We probably walked for at least twelve city blocks, or for about an hour or more. We stopped at a fruit stand finally and pieced together our best collective attempt at a question concerning direction. The woman working the stand said she didn’t know, but pointed us in a direction which we had no good reason not to follow.
We ended up in what must have been the Chinese equivalent of Chinatown, only for Japan. So, we ended up in Japantown, and saw a sign that said “CoffeePub” and considering our absolute lack of other options, decided to check it out. I was a little concerned by the fact that the windows were blocked with white drapes, and I was soon to find out how legitimate my concern was.
I think the formal phrase for the type of bar we ended up in is “Conversation bar” where patrons (mostly male) pay for company. Just like our first night out into the city, this experience also deserves a description of which I have not the time to give, but will be putting it on my list of stories to expand for later.
In a nutshell, we drank, the women talked to the men in the group, and we sang karaoke. The night ended up being a lot more expensive than we had originally anticipated having been quoted at 15 kuai a beer, but the entertainment of the awkward yet awesome situation was worth the difference between the price of my beer and the price I was actually asked to pay. I am not sure the last time I laughed so hard, and it only got funnier in the cab ride back.
We made it back to school by 12am, I was asleep by 12:30am, and then I was up by 5:45 when by boys in the dorms that face my bedroom window started their military drills.
I suppose I could spend a little bit of time describing the complicated schedule I posted yesterday. This semester I will be teaching four classes (two English, two History) which meet for a combined 17 hours a week. For my English classes, I will be teaching non-native students, meaning that English is not their primary or even, perhaps, their secondary language. Their skills may be quite good, however, because ESL is actually the lowest level of language proficiency here at the school, and I am about a step and a half above that.
One of my classes is a world history class, and spans from ancient to modern times using one of the thickest books I have ever seen. I teach this class at a 9th grade level. My second history class is what I am most excited about, as it is world history of the 20th century at 11th grade level, which is the highest level I teach and the subject closests to my degree in sociology.
As for my English classes, one is 9th grade and one is 10th grade. In the beginning, I didn’t really know what to think about my schedule, but one of the veteran teachers helped me pick out the positives. For example, I don’t have any classes Monday morning or Friday afternoon. This will allow me to get a lot of work done before the weekend, and then recover and re-organize appropriately after the weekend.
My classes are a little larger than I was expecting, each with over twenty students. In all, I have 90 students. I literally have no idea how I am going to learn their names, and distinguish their faces, but I know that all I can really do is take it one day at a time.
We have one more day of orientation left, and then we have the weekend to prepare ourselves for our first classes Monday. Sometimes, I think about getting up in front of the class for a little too long and get nervous, but I find if I really don’t think about it that much, or only think about it in limited ways, I have very little nervousness or concern. I need to spend the next few days arousing within myself the mentality of a teacher. It was not so long ago that I was a student, so it is a pretty big jump.
That is about it for now. I am hoping to have a relaxed weekend, but that is unlikely to happen. I would like to be able to write a few detailed documentations of some of my experiences here in Shanghai, so I will try and make some time for that in between all of my various teaching preparations.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Blue Sky
Finally, a moment of rest. I am sitting out on my balcony, and it is absolutely beautiful outside. The wind is blowing a soft, cooling breeze. The rains yesterday cleared out the haze of populated city living and the sky is crystal blue spotted with white clouds. The sun is beginning to set, both breaking the heat and providing a light that seems to envelope my being. It was a long and exciting night followed by a long and boring day, so these moments of peace are quite welcome.
After training ended yesterday, a group of us made the daily trip to TrustMart. I had an organized list (for the first time) and actually managed to get all that I needed. I purchased a glass to hold my set of chop sticks, a sheet set, a cutting board, a food basket, some wall hooks, a pillow, some hair gel and a hand towel. The sheet situation here is pretty confusing, and I guess that they have a nearly endless combination of possible bed measurements. I needed a sheet that was 200x180, which (after some dramatic hand gesturing) I found out they didn’t have. I got Devon to help me because she had successfully bought sheet as Ikea the other day. I wound up with 220x230, which was somehow both too short and too long. Lengthwise, it was too short and widthwise it was too long. The impossible becomes possible quite quickly here in China.
Another interesting thing about Trust-Mart is that in each section they have a worker who watches that section, and that section only. This has been documented in Tiffany’s blog with my difficulties in attempting to buy a hair dryer, and yesterday I had a similarly amusing experience trying to pick out hair gel. I found the isle, and started looking for brand themes that looked familiar. The woman in charge of the hair gel isle saw me looking, and decided to come over and tell me (in Mandarin) specifically which one I should get. I smiled and thanked her, but attempted to motion at another type that was more similar to the kind I left at home. She kept pointing to the other one, and then made me smell it. When I pointed to the one I wanted to buy, she pantomimed that it would make my hair too stiff. So, I figured, hey . . . this lady is the hair gel isle lady. She has to know a thing or two about the hair gel selection on this isle. I decided to trust her went with her suggestion (read insistence). Turns out, she knew what she was talking about because it calmed down my fizzed out hair, but didn’t make it heavy, oily, or stiff.
On the way back from TrustMart, Brian W. informed us that he and Chris had planned to go out to get drinks somewhere downtown at 7, and invited us to join. Devin, Devon, and I agreed, and we planned to meet at 7 to catch a cab and go downtown. By the time we finally left, the group included myself, Devon, Devin, Tiffany, Brian L, Brian W, Chris, and Josh. We caught two cabs right at the front gate of the school, and off we went.
The cab ride was an experience in itself. Devin is hilarious and made conversation with the cab driver without knowing any Chinese. They were laughing together in the front seat. It was pretty amazing, and quite amusing for the three of us in the back. Then the cab driver started playing Whitney Houston and trying to sing/hum to it.
In the cab, as we drove through the sprawling city, I began to realize even more significantly than I previously had the sheer girth of Shanghai. I feel like I could spend years here and never really get to know it.
I was extremely excited because the bar that Devon knew about was off Nanjing road, which is THE road in Shanghai. It’s a mixture of Rodeo Dr and M Street at the scale of New York City skyscrapers. Escada. Burburry. Emporio Armani. Omega. Cartier. The money on this street is outrageous. If you follow it all the way east, it takes you to the Bund, a major tourist destination in Shanghai. It took us a lot of wandering around, but we ended up ducking into a bar called Blue Sky.
It was a surreal experience. I am not sure what theme the bar was attempting, but it looked like a confused version of Americana mixed with a European hostel. We drank Tiger, my first time having that beer, and sat at these high round tables. Some real life “Shanghai Sleeze” were there too, which was both intriguing and disgusting to watch. We drank for about 45mins, and then decided to try and find this bar that Devin remembered from her previous China experience. She found it, in a new location from the last time she was there, right next to the Hagen-Daas on Nanjing. The vibe there was kind of strange as well, but the beer was really cheap (about 10-15 kuai). We drank and danced and talked. Around 11:30 we decided to head back to the street to grab a cab and go back to school, since we had an early day today. Devin, once again, provided cab ride antics in the front seat on the way back.
Today’s training was long and arduous, with a lot of information being thrown at us at one time. The principal of the school came and spoke to us, and there were some sessions on what to expect culturally and otherwise in the classroom. We ate lunch in the school cafeteria. A rather impressive notion is that I managed to eat ribs with chopsticks.
We were in training until 4ish, and then I came back to the apartment, sat on the balcony and started this blog post. I took a break and went with Josh to the Pizza Hut by TrustMart. Pizza Hut here is a fine dining experience. In fact, families dress up to eat at Pizza Hut. As such, we just went to the pickup/take out window, which was furnished like the concierge area at a five star hotel. Granite counters, waiting chairs, fashion magazines to read. They had a picture menu, which made ordering really easy. It wasn’t cheap, like 45 kuai for personal pizza, but it seems worth it for the occasional splurge, when you are looking for a taste of home. Josh and I brought out pizzas back and ate out on my balcony and watched the darkness take-over.
I really haven’t had too many problems with the food here, and have been able to eat just about everything given to me. I also really haven’t missed Western food too much. I particularly like the random breakfasts we are served at training. Today it was what looked to be a honey bun with a salted piece of ham on top. Not quite as charming or delicious as the leprosy cake, but a fun surprise to say the least.
I have noticed that most of my logs are just facts and figures about what I have been doing/eating/buying. I really want to make some of these posts more descriptive, even story-like. I think in the rush of arriving and training, time has been a factor. I realize that if I am going to write anything at all, I first have to go out and experience things, which also takes a great deal of time and energy. Catch-22. It is my hope to take a few instances/ events/ experiences and write them using great detail and description. For now, it seems that pictures will have to suffice. Perhaps at the end of each week, I will write a review of sorts of the week, putting a lot of focus into describing in detail the nuances of Shanghai life.
After training ended yesterday, a group of us made the daily trip to TrustMart. I had an organized list (for the first time) and actually managed to get all that I needed. I purchased a glass to hold my set of chop sticks, a sheet set, a cutting board, a food basket, some wall hooks, a pillow, some hair gel and a hand towel. The sheet situation here is pretty confusing, and I guess that they have a nearly endless combination of possible bed measurements. I needed a sheet that was 200x180, which (after some dramatic hand gesturing) I found out they didn’t have. I got Devon to help me because she had successfully bought sheet as Ikea the other day. I wound up with 220x230, which was somehow both too short and too long. Lengthwise, it was too short and widthwise it was too long. The impossible becomes possible quite quickly here in China.
Another interesting thing about Trust-Mart is that in each section they have a worker who watches that section, and that section only. This has been documented in Tiffany’s blog with my difficulties in attempting to buy a hair dryer, and yesterday I had a similarly amusing experience trying to pick out hair gel. I found the isle, and started looking for brand themes that looked familiar. The woman in charge of the hair gel isle saw me looking, and decided to come over and tell me (in Mandarin) specifically which one I should get. I smiled and thanked her, but attempted to motion at another type that was more similar to the kind I left at home. She kept pointing to the other one, and then made me smell it. When I pointed to the one I wanted to buy, she pantomimed that it would make my hair too stiff. So, I figured, hey . . . this lady is the hair gel isle lady. She has to know a thing or two about the hair gel selection on this isle. I decided to trust her went with her suggestion (read insistence). Turns out, she knew what she was talking about because it calmed down my fizzed out hair, but didn’t make it heavy, oily, or stiff.
On the way back from TrustMart, Brian W. informed us that he and Chris had planned to go out to get drinks somewhere downtown at 7, and invited us to join. Devin, Devon, and I agreed, and we planned to meet at 7 to catch a cab and go downtown. By the time we finally left, the group included myself, Devon, Devin, Tiffany, Brian L, Brian W, Chris, and Josh. We caught two cabs right at the front gate of the school, and off we went.
The cab ride was an experience in itself. Devin is hilarious and made conversation with the cab driver without knowing any Chinese. They were laughing together in the front seat. It was pretty amazing, and quite amusing for the three of us in the back. Then the cab driver started playing Whitney Houston and trying to sing/hum to it.
In the cab, as we drove through the sprawling city, I began to realize even more significantly than I previously had the sheer girth of Shanghai. I feel like I could spend years here and never really get to know it.
I was extremely excited because the bar that Devon knew about was off Nanjing road, which is THE road in Shanghai. It’s a mixture of Rodeo Dr and M Street at the scale of New York City skyscrapers. Escada. Burburry. Emporio Armani. Omega. Cartier. The money on this street is outrageous. If you follow it all the way east, it takes you to the Bund, a major tourist destination in Shanghai. It took us a lot of wandering around, but we ended up ducking into a bar called Blue Sky.
It was a surreal experience. I am not sure what theme the bar was attempting, but it looked like a confused version of Americana mixed with a European hostel. We drank Tiger, my first time having that beer, and sat at these high round tables. Some real life “Shanghai Sleeze” were there too, which was both intriguing and disgusting to watch. We drank for about 45mins, and then decided to try and find this bar that Devin remembered from her previous China experience. She found it, in a new location from the last time she was there, right next to the Hagen-Daas on Nanjing. The vibe there was kind of strange as well, but the beer was really cheap (about 10-15 kuai). We drank and danced and talked. Around 11:30 we decided to head back to the street to grab a cab and go back to school, since we had an early day today. Devin, once again, provided cab ride antics in the front seat on the way back.
Today’s training was long and arduous, with a lot of information being thrown at us at one time. The principal of the school came and spoke to us, and there were some sessions on what to expect culturally and otherwise in the classroom. We ate lunch in the school cafeteria. A rather impressive notion is that I managed to eat ribs with chopsticks.
We were in training until 4ish, and then I came back to the apartment, sat on the balcony and started this blog post. I took a break and went with Josh to the Pizza Hut by TrustMart. Pizza Hut here is a fine dining experience. In fact, families dress up to eat at Pizza Hut. As such, we just went to the pickup/take out window, which was furnished like the concierge area at a five star hotel. Granite counters, waiting chairs, fashion magazines to read. They had a picture menu, which made ordering really easy. It wasn’t cheap, like 45 kuai for personal pizza, but it seems worth it for the occasional splurge, when you are looking for a taste of home. Josh and I brought out pizzas back and ate out on my balcony and watched the darkness take-over.
I really haven’t had too many problems with the food here, and have been able to eat just about everything given to me. I also really haven’t missed Western food too much. I particularly like the random breakfasts we are served at training. Today it was what looked to be a honey bun with a salted piece of ham on top. Not quite as charming or delicious as the leprosy cake, but a fun surprise to say the least.
I have noticed that most of my logs are just facts and figures about what I have been doing/eating/buying. I really want to make some of these posts more descriptive, even story-like. I think in the rush of arriving and training, time has been a factor. I realize that if I am going to write anything at all, I first have to go out and experience things, which also takes a great deal of time and energy. Catch-22. It is my hope to take a few instances/ events/ experiences and write them using great detail and description. For now, it seems that pictures will have to suffice. Perhaps at the end of each week, I will write a review of sorts of the week, putting a lot of focus into describing in detail the nuances of Shanghai life.
Monday, August 25, 2008
First Night "Out"
Here are some blurry pictures from last night. The whole night ended up taking that theme. . . blurry. So, although the pictures are of quite diminished quality, I thought them to be quite appropriate. . .
Plenty of words to describe the night, but it really warrants a detailed description for which I do not currently have the time.
Plenty of words to describe the night, but it really warrants a detailed description for which I do not currently have the time.
Health Check or Close Encounters of the Chinese Kind
I just got back from the health check. That was a pretty crazy experience. We all filed into a classroom around 8:15, and waited for the doctors to arrive, but they got stuck in really bad traffic because of the rain. Luckily, the rain stopped completely right when it was time to leave the apartment, although it has just started back up again. Parts of the campus were totally flooded, and there was even water flowing out of some of the buildings. Helen described it as “a heavy rain” so I assume that it was a little more than just a normal rainstorm around here.
While we waited for the doctors, we got to fill out even more forms, and had to make more copies of our passport picture page and our visas. We were told we would need three of each, but it turns out that we needed ten. Who knew. With all of the delay, we didn’t get started until around 9:30, and I was starving. First, we had to take a picture (yes, they wanted more official photos of us) and then have a blood drawn. After that, we were herded onto a makeshift health lab on a bus. One station was an ultra-sound, and I am pretty sure they were checking my kidneys. They also did an EKG at that station. I could not stop laughing. The woman kept telling me “No move” and I just started laughing harder. The second station looked like it might be a mammogram machine, but it turns out that it was just a chest X-ray. The final station was vision and heart rate. Needless to say, my heart rate was a little higher than normal, but with my new glasses my vision was fine. By the time they were done poking and prodding, I was pretty glad to get off the bus. Upon exiting the bus, we were given warm milk and cake with what appeared to be leprosy for breakfast.
It really wasn't that bad. Well, the milk was pretty bad. . .
We go to lunch in about an hour, and then do some IT work later, where we get user names for the school system, and learn how to use the technology in the classroom and submit grades online. Hopefully, they will be able to help me get online as well. It has been hard not having internet, since it is the most convenient way to communicate with a mass of people about what is going on in my life.
While we waited for the doctors, we got to fill out even more forms, and had to make more copies of our passport picture page and our visas. We were told we would need three of each, but it turns out that we needed ten. Who knew. With all of the delay, we didn’t get started until around 9:30, and I was starving. First, we had to take a picture (yes, they wanted more official photos of us) and then have a blood drawn. After that, we were herded onto a makeshift health lab on a bus. One station was an ultra-sound, and I am pretty sure they were checking my kidneys. They also did an EKG at that station. I could not stop laughing. The woman kept telling me “No move” and I just started laughing harder. The second station looked like it might be a mammogram machine, but it turns out that it was just a chest X-ray. The final station was vision and heart rate. Needless to say, my heart rate was a little higher than normal, but with my new glasses my vision was fine. By the time they were done poking and prodding, I was pretty glad to get off the bus. Upon exiting the bus, we were given warm milk and cake with what appeared to be leprosy for breakfast.
It really wasn't that bad. Well, the milk was pretty bad. . .We go to lunch in about an hour, and then do some IT work later, where we get user names for the school system, and learn how to use the technology in the classroom and submit grades online. Hopefully, they will be able to help me get online as well. It has been hard not having internet, since it is the most convenient way to communicate with a mass of people about what is going on in my life.
It's Raining, It's Pouring
I think monsoon season has officially begun. It is about 7:30 in the morning on Monday, and the rain is coming down like I cannot even believe. It is so thick that I cannot see the neighboring high-rise apartment buildings from my balcony. There is thunder and lightning as well., and it seems to be lingering right over the school. I have no idea how I am going to make it to the other side of campus for the health check this morning. I have no umbrella or rain jacket.
Addition to running TrustMart list: Umbrella.
From what I can tell, most of the students have begun to move in to the dorms on campus. Turns out that my bedroom/ living room window looks directly at the front of a five-story boys dorm. So much for privacy, eh? The boys get up very early in the morning, and do some type of military training drills. Chinese sounds like an angry language to me still anyway so when you get a group of 50-100 boys together all yelling the same thing in unison, it is kind of hard to sleep after that.
Their rooms are small. And when I say small, I mean really small. In all, they might be 7’x10’ and four boys occupy each room. They have their desks all lined up on one wall, and then two sets of bunk beds on the other. So much for privacy on their end as well, I suppose.
The rain is just continuing to get worse, and I am realizing that I have absolutely nothing appropriate to wear, even down to my shoes. This is going to be a terrible walk to Helen’s office.
Addition to running TrustMart list: Umbrella.
From what I can tell, most of the students have begun to move in to the dorms on campus. Turns out that my bedroom/ living room window looks directly at the front of a five-story boys dorm. So much for privacy, eh? The boys get up very early in the morning, and do some type of military training drills. Chinese sounds like an angry language to me still anyway so when you get a group of 50-100 boys together all yelling the same thing in unison, it is kind of hard to sleep after that.
Their rooms are small. And when I say small, I mean really small. In all, they might be 7’x10’ and four boys occupy each room. They have their desks all lined up on one wall, and then two sets of bunk beds on the other. So much for privacy on their end as well, I suppose.
The rain is just continuing to get worse, and I am realizing that I have absolutely nothing appropriate to wear, even down to my shoes. This is going to be a terrible walk to Helen’s office.
Dumplings for Dinner
Last night Devon, Josh, Brian L. and myself ventured to find food. We were on a bit of a tight time schedule since we had to stop eating and drinking by 8:30 for our health exams this morning. We walked up Baise road, the road on which the front gate of the school is located, until we reached the open-air market a few blocks down. It was already dark outside, as it never really gets that bright here in Shanghai, mostly because of the haze that constantly covers the city. Nonetheless, the sun sets are early as it rises, it seems. People lined the street. Some were out walking dogs. Some were doing some last minute shopping. Some looking to get dinner, just like us. The neighborhood around the school never seems to quite down, and the market is open from the break of dawn until well after the sun has set.
Other than the “English Menu Place” where I ate with Peter the night before, we didn’t see much. There are dozens of places to eat in a single block, but it is really hard to find a place where it seems that ordering won’t be too much of an ordeal. Places with pictures on the menu are good, places with English menus are even better, and street food is the best. Places that have no pictures and no English are nearly impossible. And, of course, those are the most common places in our neighborhood.
I saw a really amazing dive noodle place; an establishment the size of a closet with tables pouring out into the sidewalk. I would have felt comfortable just pointing to something on the menu, which was all in Chinese characters, and working with whatever I got, but the group was a little more concerned with finding something edible that would hold them over for the next twelve hours. My goal for the next month is to get good enough at ordering food that I can eat alone at the dive noodle place.
We crossed the street, and began walking back to school. We were running out of time, and realized we were just going to have to make a quick decision. There was this one little place with bright orange tables and lots of people eating dumplings. “How hard could it be to order dumplings?” I thought to myself. I consulted the group, and we decided to go in.
Devon has been a savior in situations like these. She has been to China before, studying abroad in college, so she is nowhere near as shy or timid as the rest of us. She doesn’t mind making mistakes, making a fool of herself, and getting laughed at by the workers. We had my “Rough Guide” mandarin phrasebook (highly recommended) which, luckily, had a dumpling section. We showed the section to the woman, who showed us from that selection what they had, and then we made our decision. Quantities were a little difficult to communicate, but my calculator helped with that. We even managed to order three cold beers. To our knowledge, we had only ordered three orders of dumplings and three beers. We sat down, and waited for the food, which came out almost instantaneously.
They brought out four steam tins of dumplings, each tin containing eight. We could not contain our laughter. How absurd! Devon, Josh, and I timidly picked up our dumplings and attempted to eat them. Unexpectedly, the dumplings were super juicy, and we sent dumpling juice flying in all directions. I reverted to my Saltena eating days from Bike Club, and remember to drink the juice before eating the dumpling. This worked out pretty well for me.
The meal did not stop here, however. Somewhere in our attempt to order dumplings, we also ordered three bowls of chicken wanton soup (well, at least I hope it was chicken . . . too late to think about that now, right?). The soup was really delicious, and could have been a meal in itself. In between raging fits of laughter, we did our best to demolish the dumplings we ordered, but in the end we left an entire tray untouched.
The whole meal (dumplings, soup, beer, and a soda) cost 55 kuai, or about eight dollars. What a hilarious adventure.
IKEA BABY!!!
After completing yesterday’s blog post, I went out to dinner with a guy named Peter. We live right across the hall from each other up here on the fourth floor. He first came to SHSID three years ago. He taught for two years, and then spent last year at home doing some coursework. I had told him that we’d been having some problems ordering food at restaurants in the area, so he offered to take a group out, whoever wanted to go. In the end, however, it wound up just being him and me; every one else had already eaten or had fallen asleep. Apparently the jetlag is still an issue because people consistently pass out by like 8:30.
We walked out to the front gate of the campus, crossed the road and went to a place called “The English Menu Place.” I handed the reigns over to Peter for ordering, as he clearly has had more experience in this country than I. We started off with a cucumber and garlic salad (tastes like Cape Cod potato chips, or so I thought) and had peppered beef with vegetables for the main course. Both dishes were great. We also had Suntory, a popular and cheap Chinese beer, to drink.
During dinner we talked about his experiences at SHSID and what it was like to work with Helen (my new boss). It was awesome to get some first hand information about teaching and living in this area. He also taught me how to ask for the check, which the wait staff will not bring to you unless you ask them for it. The magic words are “mei dan” from what I remember.
When we returned to school, I checked to see if anyone was still awake, and when I found that no one was, I also decided to call it a night and retreated back to my room. It was still a little early to sleep, so I re-arranged a few things, spent some time out on the balcony, and then got into bed and read for a while. I think I wound up going to sleep around 10:30, and I awoke this morning at 8:00.
This morning was the designated (by me) “Ikea Day!” The plan was to leave at 9:00. The store opens at 10, but the Ikea in Shanghai is actually a tourist attraction, so the guidebook that I have suggested that you arrive when they open to beat the crowds. This was my first attempt at the solid plan with the group, and it failed miserably. We didn’t even start walking toward the front gate until about 10:15.
Some better things happened in that lost time, however. We met up with Brian W. and then walked back with him to the new building to find Nicole and Denis. By the time we found Denis and Nicole, the group had expanded even further and we set out on our way. We saw Dan on the way toward the front gate, and he asked if we could go to Helen’s office to finalize our contracts (read sign away our lives). What could we do but agree, so off to Helen’s office it was.
We spent an hour or so working with Helen on the contracts as she wanted to make everything very clear. It truly is a binding contract. Helen and the rest of SHSID now officially have me for the next ten moths. That is both exciting and a little intimidating…
Helen is a very nice woman, and kept emphasizing the fact that she and the rest of the administration and faculty at SHSID were here to support us and help us through the experience.
The group expanded even further as more and more new teachers trickled into the contract session. By the time we left we had a near pilgrimage: myself, Devon, Devon, Denis, Dennis, Nicole, Chris, Brian, Josh, John. We all decided to walk to the metro station instead of taking a cab. The walk covered new terrain, which was exiting, and I found the place that Peter told me about last night to buy a used (super cheap) bike, which I might do later today if I find the energy and confidence.
The metro stop near us is Shanghai South, and it is about a 20 minute walk at a quick clip. The station is absolutely massive. It has the metro rail, trains, and buses all departing from the same area. There were tons and tons of people, really long lines for the ticket booths, and very little English. There was just enough, however, for us to find our way.
I am beginning appreciate the sheer magnitude of this city. I had never seen a metro station like this one, but it did remind me a lot of the metro in DC. It is color and number coded, and the signs are in English and Chinese. The most difficult part was learning how to buy the tickets. I thought we were going to get the reloadable cards, but we could not find a vendor, only a single ticket machine. That worked well enough. It cost 3 kwai (that is what they call yuan in Shanghai, turns out).
The Ikea is at the same stop as the Shanghai Indoor Stadium complex, the location of some Olympic games (soccer was one of them I am most sure). It was really neat to see the complex, and made me think about how awe inspiring the complexes in Beijing must be in real life. I saw my first Starbucks, but I did not go in. The Ikea was about a five minute walk from the exit of the metro, and as we got closer my excitement continued to rise. Here are some pictures from the walk there. Note how dense the development is, and realize that this area is about nine metro stops south of center city Shanghai. This place is massive.
We didn’t get to Ikea until about 11:30, and it was packed. We spent too much time in the showroom and not enough time in the downstairs market. Lesson learned there. I bought a big lamp, two rugs for my bedroom/living room, three pillows, two coffee mugs, and some smell good potpourri since we can’t have candles. I am really happy with everything I got, and I only spent about $80. I still need sheets (that are not plaid) and some furniture for my balcony. All in due time.
By the end the whole group had been separated, and it was just me and Chris, who I took hostage by offering him some of my cart space. I had his stuff, so he had to stick with me. Muwahaha. We took a taxi back from Ikea. From my guide book I also learned that there are taxis that park right outside the exit, but they are most often not metered. I was also approached by many men in Ikea who, I think, were offering to drive me home or deliver my stuff. It was a bit sketchy. One even walked up to me and muttered the words, “I have car,” to which Chris and cracked up, said no (bu) politely, and kept walking. To get to the metered taxis, you have to go to floor “-1” which was a lower level parking garage. We hoped in the back, I showed the drive the address of the school in character, and hoped for the best. We made it back safe and sound, and I have already decorated my room with what I bought today.
Most notably was this lamp, which is meant to be shaped like a woman. They had a matching one shaped like a man. They cost the same amount. I'm glad to see that Ikea supports gender equality.
Our orientation begins tomorrow, and I was very pleased to find a detailed schedule for the next five days under my door after returning from the Ikea extravaganza. Tomorrow we have a health inspection, and then just general orientation type activities; setting up the internet, eating in the cafeteria, meeting administration, etc. It only goes until 4ish I think, so I might be able to venture out into the city center tomorrow evening. A few people from the group already have, but I have been sure to give my body the rest and recovery it needs from the plane and plenty of time to acclimate to this crazy country.
We walked out to the front gate of the campus, crossed the road and went to a place called “The English Menu Place.” I handed the reigns over to Peter for ordering, as he clearly has had more experience in this country than I. We started off with a cucumber and garlic salad (tastes like Cape Cod potato chips, or so I thought) and had peppered beef with vegetables for the main course. Both dishes were great. We also had Suntory, a popular and cheap Chinese beer, to drink.
During dinner we talked about his experiences at SHSID and what it was like to work with Helen (my new boss). It was awesome to get some first hand information about teaching and living in this area. He also taught me how to ask for the check, which the wait staff will not bring to you unless you ask them for it. The magic words are “mei dan” from what I remember.
When we returned to school, I checked to see if anyone was still awake, and when I found that no one was, I also decided to call it a night and retreated back to my room. It was still a little early to sleep, so I re-arranged a few things, spent some time out on the balcony, and then got into bed and read for a while. I think I wound up going to sleep around 10:30, and I awoke this morning at 8:00.
This morning was the designated (by me) “Ikea Day!” The plan was to leave at 9:00. The store opens at 10, but the Ikea in Shanghai is actually a tourist attraction, so the guidebook that I have suggested that you arrive when they open to beat the crowds. This was my first attempt at the solid plan with the group, and it failed miserably. We didn’t even start walking toward the front gate until about 10:15.
Some better things happened in that lost time, however. We met up with Brian W. and then walked back with him to the new building to find Nicole and Denis. By the time we found Denis and Nicole, the group had expanded even further and we set out on our way. We saw Dan on the way toward the front gate, and he asked if we could go to Helen’s office to finalize our contracts (read sign away our lives). What could we do but agree, so off to Helen’s office it was.
We spent an hour or so working with Helen on the contracts as she wanted to make everything very clear. It truly is a binding contract. Helen and the rest of SHSID now officially have me for the next ten moths. That is both exciting and a little intimidating…
Helen is a very nice woman, and kept emphasizing the fact that she and the rest of the administration and faculty at SHSID were here to support us and help us through the experience.
The group expanded even further as more and more new teachers trickled into the contract session. By the time we left we had a near pilgrimage: myself, Devon, Devon, Denis, Dennis, Nicole, Chris, Brian, Josh, John. We all decided to walk to the metro station instead of taking a cab. The walk covered new terrain, which was exiting, and I found the place that Peter told me about last night to buy a used (super cheap) bike, which I might do later today if I find the energy and confidence.
The metro stop near us is Shanghai South, and it is about a 20 minute walk at a quick clip. The station is absolutely massive. It has the metro rail, trains, and buses all departing from the same area. There were tons and tons of people, really long lines for the ticket booths, and very little English. There was just enough, however, for us to find our way.
I am beginning appreciate the sheer magnitude of this city. I had never seen a metro station like this one, but it did remind me a lot of the metro in DC. It is color and number coded, and the signs are in English and Chinese. The most difficult part was learning how to buy the tickets. I thought we were going to get the reloadable cards, but we could not find a vendor, only a single ticket machine. That worked well enough. It cost 3 kwai (that is what they call yuan in Shanghai, turns out).
The Ikea is at the same stop as the Shanghai Indoor Stadium complex, the location of some Olympic games (soccer was one of them I am most sure). It was really neat to see the complex, and made me think about how awe inspiring the complexes in Beijing must be in real life. I saw my first Starbucks, but I did not go in. The Ikea was about a five minute walk from the exit of the metro, and as we got closer my excitement continued to rise. Here are some pictures from the walk there. Note how dense the development is, and realize that this area is about nine metro stops south of center city Shanghai. This place is massive.
We didn’t get to Ikea until about 11:30, and it was packed. We spent too much time in the showroom and not enough time in the downstairs market. Lesson learned there. I bought a big lamp, two rugs for my bedroom/living room, three pillows, two coffee mugs, and some smell good potpourri since we can’t have candles. I am really happy with everything I got, and I only spent about $80. I still need sheets (that are not plaid) and some furniture for my balcony. All in due time.
By the end the whole group had been separated, and it was just me and Chris, who I took hostage by offering him some of my cart space. I had his stuff, so he had to stick with me. Muwahaha. We took a taxi back from Ikea. From my guide book I also learned that there are taxis that park right outside the exit, but they are most often not metered. I was also approached by many men in Ikea who, I think, were offering to drive me home or deliver my stuff. It was a bit sketchy. One even walked up to me and muttered the words, “I have car,” to which Chris and cracked up, said no (bu) politely, and kept walking. To get to the metered taxis, you have to go to floor “-1” which was a lower level parking garage. We hoped in the back, I showed the drive the address of the school in character, and hoped for the best. We made it back safe and sound, and I have already decorated my room with what I bought today.
Most notably was this lamp, which is meant to be shaped like a woman. They had a matching one shaped like a man. They cost the same amount. I'm glad to see that Ikea supports gender equality.Our orientation begins tomorrow, and I was very pleased to find a detailed schedule for the next five days under my door after returning from the Ikea extravaganza. Tomorrow we have a health inspection, and then just general orientation type activities; setting up the internet, eating in the cafeteria, meeting administration, etc. It only goes until 4ish I think, so I might be able to venture out into the city center tomorrow evening. A few people from the group already have, but I have been sure to give my body the rest and recovery it needs from the plane and plenty of time to acclimate to this crazy country.
I'm really in China...!
So incredibly much has happened since my last post from the plane. Right now, I am writing from the balcony of my apartment, which looks over the campus lake and the main library and out onto the skyline of a modernizing and expanding city in the horizon. This all still feels so unreal. These are some pictures of the view from my balcony early this morning.
Upon landing in Shanghai, the group re-joined and then headed off to the customs and immigration battle. Much to my surprise and relief, the battle was not too difficult. I was most surprised when my two suitcases were among the first to come around the conveyor belt. I picked them up, and stood to the side, taking on the role of mother goose for everyone’s suitcases as they trickled in. Here is Hillary and her ridiculous amounts of stuff.
After exiting customs, we eagerly looked for the person who would take us to Shanghai High. All the way down a long line of people waiting for arrivals, I saw a little white piece of paper that said, “Shanghai High School International Division.” This is when we met “Dan.” Many of the people here, most especially those working with English speaking foreigners, morph their given Chinese name into a more memorable and pronounceable English name. For example, the man in charge of our apartment building is named “Larry” and I can guarantee that was not the name given him at birth.
Dan showed us, with a little trepidation, the way to the van, and we loaded up the luggage, and then crammed our bodies in the space left over. By the time we got on the road it was about 4pm Friday, so Shanghai traffic was at its best (read worst). It took who knows how long to get to the school, but we made it.
From the time that we began to approach land in the plane to the time we exited the highway for SHSID, I felt like we could have been in any western city. The traffic, the roads, the billboards, the landscape. In fact, I really felt like we had not left Atlanta at all. Once we exited the highway however, this feeling changed drastically. At one point I said, “Ok, now I don’t feel like I am in Atlanta anymore, in fact, I don’t even feel like I am in Chinatown.”
The area around our school seems to be laden with authenticity. Much to my surprise, almost no one within a square mile of the school speaks English, and if they do it is extremely limited. All signs are in Chinese. The vendors lining the streets do not sell souvenirs, but rather day to day supplies; magazines, sunglasses, socks, combs. The restaurants only have Chinese menus, and the waitresses only speak Chinese. There is a McDonalds and a Pizza Hut in the TrustMart (read Wal-Mart), but no one speaks English in there either, and McDonald’s serves chicken feet. This is the real deal, which will certainly enrich my experience here in China.
Dan and our driver dropped us off in front of our building, helped unload our luggage, told us our room numbers, and then left. It was the most simple “check in” process I have ever encountered. When I walked in, there was someone else from the program offering to help me with my bag. From all of my facebook work this summer, I recognized him and said, “Brian?” He nodded and said, “And you’re Rebecca.” “That I am.”
We walked up to the fourth floor (the building is five floors high, and Dennis lives directly above me) and found my room. I took a deep breath before opening the door. What I found behind was a little rough on the eyes at first, especially the weary eyes of a recently released Delta captive. The room was sparse and dusty, and much smaller than I had imagined it would be. I knew however, that with my dorm experience and Ikea at my fingertips, I would manage to turn the room into something really wonderful.
The group, which now includes two Devons and a Brian, headed out to find a bank to exchange money. The result of this quick transition was little preparation on the navigation front and a lot of unnecessary walking complimented by head scratching (the universal sign for confusion). I just went with the flow, and took in as much as I could of our new surroundings. We managed to find the bank . . . five minutes after they closed. After than unfortunate timing, it was on to TrustMart where we would (attempt to) find the first of our “necessary” items. At the very top of that list for me was a hair dryer.
TrustMart is the Chinese Wal-Mart. It is actually owned by Wal-Mart, but is only roughly similar. Standing three floors high, the first floor has a few places to eat, and then a bunch of boutique-like shops. The second floor is basically a condensed Wal-Mart, and has home good, electronics, clothing, etc. The third floor, and the very hidden location of the cash registers, is a supermarket. TrustMart has become our new friend as we continually find things that we need to make our stay here feel a little more like home.
We got lost for a second time on the way back to the school from TrustMart, and even (unknowingly) attempted to trespass on a neighboring gated school, which we mistook for our own. The guard at the gate was none too pleased as we attempted to explain to him in our incomprehensible Mandarin that we were teachers trying to get to our apartments. “Laoshi. Wo shi Laoshi.” (Teacher. I am teacher). We gave him identification, showed him a print out of the school address (but looking back, what did we think that would accomplish?) and then we finally threw our hands up and began walking in. This reasonably angered the guard, and so we retreated and took the long walk back to the main gate of the school, which was the only gate we really knew. On the way, we looked for places to have dinner after dropping off our TrustMart treasures. We settled on a place right outside of the front gate that had a picture of beer in the window. From that, one can clearly see the direction of our priorities.
After struggling to order food from a Chinese menu to a waitress speaking Chinese, we all waited in great anticipation to see what we actually ordered. We ended up with salty, cold tofu (not as bad as it sounds), peanut chicken, some sort of vegetable, and a beef dish. My favorite was the beef dish. The entire meal (which fed five people with food to spare) cost 101 yuan, or about $13. This included three huge beers. Not bad at all.
We returned to the dorms, almost too exhausted to make it up the stairs, and made tentative plans for the following day. Once alone in my room, my first priority was to arrange the furniture in a way suitable to my tastes, and to unpack both of my bags. I was also very excited to take a shower. Here are some pictures of the fruits of my labor.
Around 11:30, I called it quits and went to sleep in what will be my bed for the next year. I slept almost the whole night through, and awoke refreshed and ready to go at 6:00am. I didn’t quite know what to do, as I was sure that the others were not yet awake. I looked at my area map and the larger Shanghai map, packed up my bag, and walked out the door ready to follow wherever the wind might take me. I found a back gate the provided an excellent short cut in the pilgrimage to Trustmart. Once I got to TrustMart, I took a left and headed down the road. I walked for about two hours, from 7-9.
It was really amazing to see everyone beginning their day. Shops were in the process of opening, people stood waiting for the bus, children walked in uniform to school. I followed my map as best I could so I would not get lost on my first outing. I bought some orange juice (Minute Maid) at a little supermarket, which was wonderfully refreshing to have on my walk.
People here really like to stare. Especially in the area around the school, as it does not attract tourists. It is very rare to see a Westerner. In fact, in the two hours I spent roaming the streets, I never saw another expatriate. Perhaps, the others were simply not jacked up on jetlag, and were still happily asleep in their beds at 7am, but even on other excursions throughout the day the only Western faces I saw were other people from the group or my own reflection in a storefront window.
I ate my first street food today, and it was awesome. I played with the idea of getting some for the first hour of my walk, and then by the second hour I had gained enough courage to attempt the interaction. I found a place that had bread similar to the bread I loved in India (parrota), and I pointed and then held out one finger. In response, the woman working the booth held out one finger. Into her hand I placed one yuan, and she gave me the hot bread. This success of this interaction built my confidence, and the delicious food filled my stomach as I continued on my way.
It began to rain, and so instead of continuing on to find the metro station, I opted to head back in the direction of the school. I found a place called “The Wine Shop for Champions” at a major intersection, and I assume that this will become a pretty good landmark. I stopped at an open-air market on the way back, one that Dennis and I had seen the night before but were too exhausted to explore. There was much more in the market than I could ever describe, and the crowds of people were pretty amazing. The walk-way in the market was no wider than the hallway in Bentley Dorm, or the main hallway in my house, but people were stacked four, sometimes five across, attemping to get to the goods they desired. As I was walking I noticed a booth selling knitting supplies, but in the rush of the crowd, I was forced to pass it by. On the way back however, running on the confidence of my first street food interaction, I decided that I would try to buy some yarn and needles.
Of course, the man spoke no English. However, this is much easier when you can point and then work with numbers. I carry my own calculator for easy conversions, and it turns out that it is really great for easy market communication. I handed the man the calculator, and then pointed to the things I wanted, and then he added it all up and showed it to me. I got six skeins of yarn and two sets of bamboo needles for 52 yuan, or about seven dollars. I am not sure if he was expecting me to barter, but there was no way I was about to open that can of worms. 52 was just fine for me!
The rest of the walk back to the front gate, I bathed in the pride I had for myself. In just couple hours I woke up, went out on my own, managed to navigate myself (more or less safely) in early morning traffic, got breakfast, found and bought knitting supplies, and did it all before I would usually get out of bed at home. I felt pretty awesome.
I came back to my room, met up with some people, and planned to go to the bank and TrustMart at noon. It rained pretty hard for about an hour from 10-11, and I worked to get my internet up and running. Much to my disappointment, each and every attempt has been a no-go.
We missed the bank again, but went to a bank next door that was still open. After that, another trip to TrustMart (I got some chopsticks, noodle cups, laundry detergent, a dress, and crackers.) By the end of that trip, I was ready to go back to the apartment and totally crash out, which I have been doing ever since. I think a group of us are going to attempt eating out again tonight, and certainly the place we choose will have beer.
I am a little concerned that I am in the “honeymoon” phase of culture shock. I absolutely love it here. I don’t find it too difficult to do anything (other than setting up my internet) and really love the challenge of going out and getting what I need. Everything seems to be within reach, minus the slight hindrance of the language barrier. I absolutely love my apartment, and I really enjoy getting to know everyone from the program. It might be the case that all of this happiness and excitement could fade into terror and frustration in a few weeks, once the novelty of the culture has worn off and the reality of the duration of my stay has set in. We will just have to see, and I will deal with it when it comes.
That’s all for now. Here are some more relatively random pictures from the past few days!
Upon landing in Shanghai, the group re-joined and then headed off to the customs and immigration battle. Much to my surprise and relief, the battle was not too difficult. I was most surprised when my two suitcases were among the first to come around the conveyor belt. I picked them up, and stood to the side, taking on the role of mother goose for everyone’s suitcases as they trickled in. Here is Hillary and her ridiculous amounts of stuff.
After exiting customs, we eagerly looked for the person who would take us to Shanghai High. All the way down a long line of people waiting for arrivals, I saw a little white piece of paper that said, “Shanghai High School International Division.” This is when we met “Dan.” Many of the people here, most especially those working with English speaking foreigners, morph their given Chinese name into a more memorable and pronounceable English name. For example, the man in charge of our apartment building is named “Larry” and I can guarantee that was not the name given him at birth.
Dan showed us, with a little trepidation, the way to the van, and we loaded up the luggage, and then crammed our bodies in the space left over. By the time we got on the road it was about 4pm Friday, so Shanghai traffic was at its best (read worst). It took who knows how long to get to the school, but we made it.
From the time that we began to approach land in the plane to the time we exited the highway for SHSID, I felt like we could have been in any western city. The traffic, the roads, the billboards, the landscape. In fact, I really felt like we had not left Atlanta at all. Once we exited the highway however, this feeling changed drastically. At one point I said, “Ok, now I don’t feel like I am in Atlanta anymore, in fact, I don’t even feel like I am in Chinatown.”
The area around our school seems to be laden with authenticity. Much to my surprise, almost no one within a square mile of the school speaks English, and if they do it is extremely limited. All signs are in Chinese. The vendors lining the streets do not sell souvenirs, but rather day to day supplies; magazines, sunglasses, socks, combs. The restaurants only have Chinese menus, and the waitresses only speak Chinese. There is a McDonalds and a Pizza Hut in the TrustMart (read Wal-Mart), but no one speaks English in there either, and McDonald’s serves chicken feet. This is the real deal, which will certainly enrich my experience here in China.
Dan and our driver dropped us off in front of our building, helped unload our luggage, told us our room numbers, and then left. It was the most simple “check in” process I have ever encountered. When I walked in, there was someone else from the program offering to help me with my bag. From all of my facebook work this summer, I recognized him and said, “Brian?” He nodded and said, “And you’re Rebecca.” “That I am.”
We walked up to the fourth floor (the building is five floors high, and Dennis lives directly above me) and found my room. I took a deep breath before opening the door. What I found behind was a little rough on the eyes at first, especially the weary eyes of a recently released Delta captive. The room was sparse and dusty, and much smaller than I had imagined it would be. I knew however, that with my dorm experience and Ikea at my fingertips, I would manage to turn the room into something really wonderful.
The group, which now includes two Devons and a Brian, headed out to find a bank to exchange money. The result of this quick transition was little preparation on the navigation front and a lot of unnecessary walking complimented by head scratching (the universal sign for confusion). I just went with the flow, and took in as much as I could of our new surroundings. We managed to find the bank . . . five minutes after they closed. After than unfortunate timing, it was on to TrustMart where we would (attempt to) find the first of our “necessary” items. At the very top of that list for me was a hair dryer.
TrustMart is the Chinese Wal-Mart. It is actually owned by Wal-Mart, but is only roughly similar. Standing three floors high, the first floor has a few places to eat, and then a bunch of boutique-like shops. The second floor is basically a condensed Wal-Mart, and has home good, electronics, clothing, etc. The third floor, and the very hidden location of the cash registers, is a supermarket. TrustMart has become our new friend as we continually find things that we need to make our stay here feel a little more like home.
We got lost for a second time on the way back to the school from TrustMart, and even (unknowingly) attempted to trespass on a neighboring gated school, which we mistook for our own. The guard at the gate was none too pleased as we attempted to explain to him in our incomprehensible Mandarin that we were teachers trying to get to our apartments. “Laoshi. Wo shi Laoshi.” (Teacher. I am teacher). We gave him identification, showed him a print out of the school address (but looking back, what did we think that would accomplish?) and then we finally threw our hands up and began walking in. This reasonably angered the guard, and so we retreated and took the long walk back to the main gate of the school, which was the only gate we really knew. On the way, we looked for places to have dinner after dropping off our TrustMart treasures. We settled on a place right outside of the front gate that had a picture of beer in the window. From that, one can clearly see the direction of our priorities.
After struggling to order food from a Chinese menu to a waitress speaking Chinese, we all waited in great anticipation to see what we actually ordered. We ended up with salty, cold tofu (not as bad as it sounds), peanut chicken, some sort of vegetable, and a beef dish. My favorite was the beef dish. The entire meal (which fed five people with food to spare) cost 101 yuan, or about $13. This included three huge beers. Not bad at all.
We returned to the dorms, almost too exhausted to make it up the stairs, and made tentative plans for the following day. Once alone in my room, my first priority was to arrange the furniture in a way suitable to my tastes, and to unpack both of my bags. I was also very excited to take a shower. Here are some pictures of the fruits of my labor.
Around 11:30, I called it quits and went to sleep in what will be my bed for the next year. I slept almost the whole night through, and awoke refreshed and ready to go at 6:00am. I didn’t quite know what to do, as I was sure that the others were not yet awake. I looked at my area map and the larger Shanghai map, packed up my bag, and walked out the door ready to follow wherever the wind might take me. I found a back gate the provided an excellent short cut in the pilgrimage to Trustmart. Once I got to TrustMart, I took a left and headed down the road. I walked for about two hours, from 7-9.
It was really amazing to see everyone beginning their day. Shops were in the process of opening, people stood waiting for the bus, children walked in uniform to school. I followed my map as best I could so I would not get lost on my first outing. I bought some orange juice (Minute Maid) at a little supermarket, which was wonderfully refreshing to have on my walk.
People here really like to stare. Especially in the area around the school, as it does not attract tourists. It is very rare to see a Westerner. In fact, in the two hours I spent roaming the streets, I never saw another expatriate. Perhaps, the others were simply not jacked up on jetlag, and were still happily asleep in their beds at 7am, but even on other excursions throughout the day the only Western faces I saw were other people from the group or my own reflection in a storefront window.
I ate my first street food today, and it was awesome. I played with the idea of getting some for the first hour of my walk, and then by the second hour I had gained enough courage to attempt the interaction. I found a place that had bread similar to the bread I loved in India (parrota), and I pointed and then held out one finger. In response, the woman working the booth held out one finger. Into her hand I placed one yuan, and she gave me the hot bread. This success of this interaction built my confidence, and the delicious food filled my stomach as I continued on my way.
It began to rain, and so instead of continuing on to find the metro station, I opted to head back in the direction of the school. I found a place called “The Wine Shop for Champions” at a major intersection, and I assume that this will become a pretty good landmark. I stopped at an open-air market on the way back, one that Dennis and I had seen the night before but were too exhausted to explore. There was much more in the market than I could ever describe, and the crowds of people were pretty amazing. The walk-way in the market was no wider than the hallway in Bentley Dorm, or the main hallway in my house, but people were stacked four, sometimes five across, attemping to get to the goods they desired. As I was walking I noticed a booth selling knitting supplies, but in the rush of the crowd, I was forced to pass it by. On the way back however, running on the confidence of my first street food interaction, I decided that I would try to buy some yarn and needles.
Of course, the man spoke no English. However, this is much easier when you can point and then work with numbers. I carry my own calculator for easy conversions, and it turns out that it is really great for easy market communication. I handed the man the calculator, and then pointed to the things I wanted, and then he added it all up and showed it to me. I got six skeins of yarn and two sets of bamboo needles for 52 yuan, or about seven dollars. I am not sure if he was expecting me to barter, but there was no way I was about to open that can of worms. 52 was just fine for me!
The rest of the walk back to the front gate, I bathed in the pride I had for myself. In just couple hours I woke up, went out on my own, managed to navigate myself (more or less safely) in early morning traffic, got breakfast, found and bought knitting supplies, and did it all before I would usually get out of bed at home. I felt pretty awesome.
I came back to my room, met up with some people, and planned to go to the bank and TrustMart at noon. It rained pretty hard for about an hour from 10-11, and I worked to get my internet up and running. Much to my disappointment, each and every attempt has been a no-go.
We missed the bank again, but went to a bank next door that was still open. After that, another trip to TrustMart (I got some chopsticks, noodle cups, laundry detergent, a dress, and crackers.) By the end of that trip, I was ready to go back to the apartment and totally crash out, which I have been doing ever since. I think a group of us are going to attempt eating out again tonight, and certainly the place we choose will have beer.
I am a little concerned that I am in the “honeymoon” phase of culture shock. I absolutely love it here. I don’t find it too difficult to do anything (other than setting up my internet) and really love the challenge of going out and getting what I need. Everything seems to be within reach, minus the slight hindrance of the language barrier. I absolutely love my apartment, and I really enjoy getting to know everyone from the program. It might be the case that all of this happiness and excitement could fade into terror and frustration in a few weeks, once the novelty of the culture has worn off and the reality of the duration of my stay has set in. We will just have to see, and I will deal with it when it comes.
That’s all for now. Here are some more relatively random pictures from the past few days!
Notes from the 11th hour (of the plane ride) ...
It was an early morning to say the least. After eventually falling asleep around midnight, a 1:30am panic wake up, and then finally getting out of bed at 3:30 to shower and complete last minute packing, I was already exhausted by the time of our departure from the house at a prompt 5am.
We loaded up the car – our tired and baffled bodies included--and headed down Cardinal Drive -- the houses still dark, in the sleepy haze between the night and the dawn.
We were right on time. Just as planned. Things were going smoothly . . . until about five miles out of Wilson when I realized I had left my computer charger (#$%@) plugged into the wall at home. A rushed turn around, a speedy tour through not so “Wide Awake” Wilson, a sprint down the hallway and into my room, and we were back on the road almost as if it had never happened. Almost.
The drive to the airport was as dark as it was silent, with only a little ambient NPR. Things were bad in Russia. Thing were bad in Nigeria. As is usually the case in world news, things were bad. None of that was my concern. My solitary concern this morning was getting on that flight in Atlanta.
My mom dropped my dad and myself off at the check-in counter and headed off to park the car, one last desperate attempt to keep time on our side. There was a line at Delta’s international check in, but nothing too detrimental to my day’s solitary concern. After waiting in line for a meager five minutes, it was my turn to throw my bag on the scale of truth. Limited to 50lbs per bag, I was pretty sure that my rolling duffle bag would be over the limit. At home it weighed 51lbs, and that was before my hectic morning “just throw it in there” packing. I lugged the bag onto the scale, and held my breath.
Damn! 52.5lbs. Surely they won’t charge me for 2.5lbs!?!? Alas, they would. So, it was either pay $80 for 2.5 lbs, or transfer (read cram) some weight into my second bag that was nowhere near the weight limit, but totally maxed out on capacity. Clearly, I have upon the horizon more important places to spend that money, so I opted for the second. Hurriedly, I tore open (ok, unzipped) the rolling duffle and made some weight conscious choices. I needed the most bang for my buck. Extra clothes. Some deodorant. Sunglasses or some such. Take a few items out, look at the scale. Take a few more items out, look again. After a few adjustments, and some shoving and crunching, I had my rolling duffle down to 50lbs exactly.
The woman who checked me in at the counter might have been one of the most unpleasant ticket person I’ve encountered. First, she was very forward and unhelpful concerning my weight problem, and very impatient for me to fix it. Second, she was quite bothered by the fact that I did not have a return ticket to the country. She wanted to know what I was doing. Well, I am going to teach, I told her. She wanted to see some type of proof. I gave her my international teacher’s identity card (who knew that would come in handy so early?!) Then she wanted to try and tell me that my visa expired in October. That is impossible, I told her. There must be some mistake. She refused to hand me my passport to check it, and when she finally gave it to me, very abruptly with my boarding passes, I doubled checked. The date she was looking at was the “Enter before” date. It was a pretty frustrating experience.
There wasn’t much time for goodbye, as I had to get through security and make it to my gate. This was actually pretty good; a lingering goodbye would have brought about within me lots of mixed feelings, making it even harder than it already was to will myself onto the escalator up to security.
From there, it was easy going to Atlanta. The flight from Raleigh was only an hour long, which gave me an idea of just how long my flight to Shanghai would be, about 17 more of those to be exact! I sat next to a woman who was on her way to Montréal for her only daughter’s wedding. She asked me about where I was going, and I told her through a laugh that I was going to China. The words are still so absurd to me. She told me that I would be fine, and that I would have a wonderful time. But then she said, “What do you do if you get over there and hate it?” What the hell are you trying to do lady?! I had no answer because I had not once, through this whole thing, allowed myself to think that way. I told her that I had traveled extensively out of the country, and although I had never been out of the country for anything near ten months, homesickness and culture shock were virtually foreign to me. It not, of course, that I don’t miss home, but I know that my parents are happy to have me out, about, and exploring the world. What was I going to do, live at home for the rest of my life?! Haha.
Travel Karma #53: When one has a short layover (read sub one hour), the arriving gate and the departing gate must be at opposite ends of the airport.
This was, no doubt, the case for me when I landed in Atlanta. I had to get from the A concourse to the E concourse. Thankfully, Gate 11 was the first gate on the right once I got to E, so I didn’t have to walk too far. I nervously approached the gate, not knowing who from the group might or might not be there.
It is always nerve-wracking to meet new people, but even more so when you know that you will be spending the next ten months of your life with them and will look to them for support, guidance, and a sense of family. No pressure there for making good first impressions.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a tall brunette waving at me, and I knew it was Tiffany. I went over to her, and gave her a big hug, and then we talked about her first flight, my first flight, our feelings about the days to come. Dennis had also arrived, but was out on a stroll around the concourse. Not long after I showed up at the gate, Hillary and Nathan arrived.
Hillary is a character. One of her first questions to me was, “Did you manage to fit all of your stuff into two bags?” To which I nodded, and then she went on to tell me that she couldn’t make it work and that she had checked three bags all weighing near fifty pounds. And there I am looking at her rolling a fourth suitcase behind her with a huge purse slung on her shoulder. Simply stunning. Hillary, you rock! We talked about what it was that she packed (mostly clothes and travel books given to her by well-wishing friends) and I mentioned that I had heard that Shanghai had some awesome shopping.
Nathan is really laid back. I remember asking him a question, although I cannot remember exactly what it was, and he replied, “Oh, I have no idea. I’m just along for the ride. If I need to know something I just ask her,” pointing to Hillary. They both went to school together at University of Michigan.
A few moments later, Dennis returned from his morning walk, and we all got to talking about what it would be like, posing lots of questions to see if anyone knew the answer. Dennis and I took field trip to the bathroom, and by the time we got back they were already boarding the plane. We were all pretty listless about boarding, knowing just how obscenely long our flight was. When there were very few people left outside the gate, we all decided that we may as well board. It would be pretty stupid to miss a flight while you were standing outside the gate, right?
Tiffany and I ended up sitting together in the extreme back of the plane, literally meaning the last seats on the left side. It has its benefits and its costs. One benefit is that it is just a two-seat row, so that gives us the illusion of having more space (which we do not actually have, hence the illusion). Cost: my face is about 12 inches from the door of the bathroom. All I will be able to smell for the next few days is the scent of disinfectant and deodorizer trying to cover up the scent of all that goes on in a bathroom. Not the most pleasant thing, but it is better than the trash smell coming out of the vents on the other side of the plane. At this point, I’ll take what I can get.
The view from my seat. Tiffany is recently engaged, so I spent some time with her going trough bridal magazines. If you had told me a year ago that I would be critiquing various wedding gowns and accessories on a flight to Shanghai to reach my place of employment with a girl from West Virginia and loving every moment, I never would have been able to believe it. I am seriously loving these moments. These moments where I am amazed at the random beauty of my own life. Its a wonderful gift and an exciting adventure to be me right now. Glad I can share it with you.
A cute kid on the plane who played with us for a while.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
And . . . here . . . we . . . go . . .
Tomorrow morning, I wake up at 4am and leave the house at 5am to get on a flight by 7:30, to then make a one hour connection in Atlanta for a 10:05 departure to Shanghai. Your typical case of hurry up and wait. Wait for 18 hours (in more or less the same seat) to be exact. I've had a hard time imagining what it will be like to attempt to occupy myself for that amount of time, but I think I should be able to accomplish it just fine. In my carry-on I have:
- 2 epic novels
- 2 china travel books
- MacBook
- ipod
- camera
- Adbusters magazine
- calendar
- journal
- clipboard
- important documents
- electronic translator (Thanks Dad!)
- wallet
- water canteen
- various beauty and hygiene products
- blanket
If I were MacGyver, I think that would be enough raw material to fashion a makeshift aircraft, but, really, where's the need in such nonsense? I'll most likely use all items for their intended purposes. Most likely . . .
I am super excited about meeting my travel companions from the program, and even more excited about landing in Shanghai where I imagine that the reality of the whole thing will hit me pretty hard. By Friday around 5pm (Shanghai Time), I should be happily situated in my apartment, and perhaps even on my first exploration around the campus and the vast city just outside it's walls. Look forward to photos in the next post (I already packed my camera cord) of final packing, the epic travel day, and my first day in Shanghai!! Holy crap . . .
Needless to say, it might take me a little while to prioritize my life once I get there, and although keeping everyone up to date is pretty high on my priority list, it falls short of things like food, shelter, and perhaps even hygiene. As such, it may not be until Saturday or Sunday that I am able to update again.
Until then . . . !
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Life and Death
Okay, even I will admit that title is a little much . . .
It occurred to me, quite suddenly today, that I am living each day as if Delta Flight 19 entails my inevitable death. Doing "last things" here in Wilson. Making final arrangements with banks and doctors. My parents making special accommodations, wishing to meet my every need and want because "my days are numbered" here in the States. An inability to see my future beyond the crowded gate in Atlanta. All this leads to an inherent sense of a certain and timely demise.
This line of thought, however, is horrifically backwards. Flight 19 entails life, and a glorious one at that.
Flight 19 is the punctuation on lingering ends and the large, capitalized letter on new beginnings. The ends, it seems, could be punctuated with any variety of marks. A question, an exclamation, an ellipses . . . Although they may remain open and mostly ambiguous in the meaning of each particular punctuation, the ends must become Ends because they will find revival only in new beginnings.
The beginnings may simply start with an "I" or they may, more appropriately, begin with a supportive, "We" as the group continues to develop a collective consciousness (even if it is currently limited to the internet). Upon landing, we will all find ourselves catapulted from the lives we once lived, forced to attempt a synthesis between the west and the east, between the old and the new, between the past and the present, the present and the future.
Camus urges us to "Live to the point of tears." Pushing life to this limit is often difficult, and too far from the preferred levels of comfort most wish to enjoy. However, the times that we must hold back the tears are most oft the times that we find we are really living. Through our watery eyes we can see more clearly what and why we value, and how those values are to influence our lives. Certainly tears must not always be negative. We must spawn a great many of our tears from happiness, fulfillment, beauty, and pleasure.
Rather than feeling that my tears (which will undoubtedly make themselves known in the next three days) indicate sadness for something lost, I remind myself that these tears indicate that I am about to embark on an experience that is very real for me, a grand example of Life. This is an experience that will help me connect, not with myself, but with the ever shifting meaning of the monolithic heart urging and supporting the racing pulse of our modern world.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Packing Pictures
This was Kitty's idea of a protest. 
Everything I will need for a year, more or less. Really makes me think about the notion of possessions. Perhaps the next year will bring about a significant lifestyle change . . . 
Of all the western goods you can find in China, tampons are not one of them -- much to my dismay. Thus, here is my (hopeful) year supply.
Each practice pack I undertake, I shed a little more "possession weight" -- leaving behind a pair of shoes here, a skirt there. This is good for me, as I think I will be more happy the less I have to lug around with me on my voyage to my new home. Although it may seem to signify over-preparation to pack days in advance, I am quite happy with my decision to do such as it will, no doubt, allow me to stay calm the night before leaving. Or so I hope . . .
Friday, August 15, 2008
Five Days
I had intended to write something yesterday, which would have marked one week until my departure. Turns out preparing to leave the country for a year can be a little hectic, so I have had not the time to write about my various preparations. Finally, after a very productive day running around and gathering some final important items (new glasses, book on shanghai, mandarin basics book, alarm clock etc.) I am sitting quietly in my room and trying to gather some of the thoughts that have been pulsing through my brain . . .
I am feeling, more than ever, that time is completely out of my hands. I can neither speed the clock up, nor slow it down. I can only sit, and enjoy the moments as they pass - attempting to grasp in each of these passing moments some authenticity in my existence.
Currently, I feel a little like those coin machines at science museums -- the ones where you put a penny in the chute, and it spirals down toward a tiny hole at the bottom, just large enough to let it pass. In the beginning, the penny takes its time, slowly making its rotations. But, as the path narrows, the penny gains substantial momentum, and is soon moving at two, three, four times its original speed. By the very end, as the penny nears its final destination, it moves at a speed the eye can no longer process. The penny becomes one solid blur of motion until it finally drops off into the black abyss.
I doubt that I will be dropping into a black abyss anytime soon, but I do in my current preparations relate to the movement of the penny. As my departure date approaches, I feel the pressure of time bearing down. I see my actions becoming more frantic, and my thoughts tend to follow suit. I feel as if I will be at the point of near explosion right before boarding the plane in Atlanta.
Dualistically, I sense a calm and silence after the wheels of the plane leave the runway, sending the plane hurdling into the air at rates more alarming than I actually care to ponder. I will let out one last, long breath of Western air, welcoming in the air of my Eastern experience, and anything that it might care to generate.
Put more simply, it is the agony of anticipation that is currently killing me.
The future is always present. It sometimes takes the form of an ideal. Sometimes a dream. Sometimes the bland prospect of having to live the same day, the way you just have lived it, toward an indefinite destiny.
The past asserts its presence, adding tension to the dialogue between time and thought. It is a reminder. A reminder of old selves. Of both calm and turbulence. A reminder of the thousands of ways in which we once fell short of our vision for ourselves.
The past does not determine the future, but its effect is a unique one. We cannot, even if we so wish, forget our past. It is sometimes hurtful, sometimes helpful, but always a reminder of the way things went, and inherent in that, the way we wish things to go.
As conscious and existing beings, our first responsibility is to differentiate between the things over which we have no control and those we do. We then must come to accept those things out of our control, and decide for ourselves what we will do with the rest. Undoubtedly, there will be a lot of factors within the next year that are well beyond my control. The doings of a government that is not my own. The customs of a culture that is still foreign to me. The actions of my peers who, too, will be under great pressure in this new adventure.
However, there is more in my control that I often give credit. I hope to take control of each of my precious days in China, and live them to their fullest potential. I hope to reconnect with my vision of personal meaning, seamlessly weaving that meaning in with a clearer vision of my currently ambiguous future.
This is both where I am, and where I am going.
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