Tonight I ate out at a 'western' restaurant again, the third time I've used a fork and knife since I got here. Though the restaurant offered some Chinese food options as well, it was western in it's decor - red couches surrounding the tables and Christmas decorations, including a 'Meery Christmas' (sic) sign on some of the windows. I ordered spaghetti, and a waffle. To be honest, I didn't know it was a waffle when I ordered it, I thought maybe it'd be more like a crepe. The options for topping were: eel, meat, fruit, or honey. I opted for the first, which turned out to be something of a sweet eely mush spread on two quadrants of the waffle, with whipped cream and an quasi-marachino cherry in the center.
The Chinese have a strange attitude towards sugar, I find. They don't have this clear cut idea that it belongs after the meal, in a course called dessert. My spaghetti was sweet. My friend ordered fruit pizza, which was sweet. I also tried to explain that having fruit - which included apples, pears, and candied cherries - on a pizza with cheese was strange. And, tomato sauce on pizza is something of a must (though this was absent from, and indeed did not sound appealing with, the fruit topping). The last time I was at a western restaurant, they served watermelon and an apple salad with the 'steak,' and cherry tomatoes with the cake.
It's not just in foreign foods that sugar is put in weird places, but in Chinese food as well. There are 'sweet and sour' dishes, but these taste quite different those in the US -I find them to be better described as sweet and garlicky. Popular ice cream flavors include milk flavor, various kinds of beans, wheat, and green tea. This sweet bean idea - strange at first - I quite like. And the milk ice cream is decent too. The other two ingredients most notably and unfortunately absent in the diet here are cheese and chocolate. Neither have a long history here. Cheese is not found in any traditional Chinese dishes, and I have yet to see anything beyond a processed American-esque cheese in a store or restaurant. (Oh to be back on the French organic dairy farm for a few days.....). You can buy chocolate, but it's expensive and not very good. The couple times I have tried to eat chocolate cake, though the color is decent, any flavor is hardly noticeable.
Fortunately, though I miss these foods very much, there are a million new and developed flavors to stimulate my taste buds and make up for it, most of the time.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
Spelling and word games
Some things about this Chinese separation of phonetics for writing are pretty cool and some pretty strange. You can read without saying the words to yourself, for instance, and you can understand things you read without being able to communicate them to someone else. You can say things you haven't got a clue how to write. Doing this makes me realize how much I rely on spelling, and how closely my spoken language is linked to it. When I say something, the written version is a split second away, or even closer, hanging somewhere inside my head. When learning French, I remember noting that I was never able/willing to say anything which I did not know how to write. But here, I can't insist on that, and it's strangely liberating. The characters I know best I still sort of 'see' when I say them, but I am perfectly fine saying things I wouldn't be able to recognize on paper. I guess I still insist on knowing the pinyin and tone of everything, but that's because it's essential information if you want to be able to say the word correctly. In English, you can say things totally right without being able to spell them correctly (though you'd probably have a good idea). It's sort of hard to explain.
With no alphabet, you can't ask someone to spell a new word for you. You can look it up in the dictionary by its pinyin, but there are so many homophones it is often not easy to figure out which is the one you heard, and in a quick conversation setting you need a quicker option, and there are several. The most common is to try to figure out if the character is used in another character combination you are familiar with. As a simple example in English, say you learn the new phrase red-eye, and you want to know what the 'red' character is. You might say, 'is that red as in 'I read a book?' And your friend would say, 'no, it's not, it's red as in 'red bull' or 'red, white and blue.' This option only works if you already know the character but haven't yet associated it with this particular meaning/phrase. The second possible method is to have the person write the character out for you. This seems obvious, but what I mean mostly is not with a pen, but usually by tracing the character with a finger on a hand or a table. You've got to watch carefully for this to work. Thirdly, they might explain what radicals make it up: 'well, it's got a tree radical on the left, and then a sheep radical on the right.' There are names for each of the strokes, too, which can be used to help 'there's a horizontal line then a downward hook, and a little dot.'
Along with no spelling comes no spelling bees, no crossword puzzles, no word searches, no boggle, no ghost and no scrabble. Instead there are other word games based on characters, which I am just getting to the surface of, and looking forward to more of. There are lots sort of like rebus puzzles, where you have to put together clues about the radicals that make up characters and maybe some clues about the pronunciation. While the commonality of puns makes them not very funny or clever in most situtations, it opens a lot of possibilities here. Another I really enjoy is to start with a simple character (like 日) and try to come up with all the characters which can be made by adding only one stroke (申，电，白，旦，旧）, or two strokes, etc.
With no alphabet, you can't ask someone to spell a new word for you. You can look it up in the dictionary by its pinyin, but there are so many homophones it is often not easy to figure out which is the one you heard, and in a quick conversation setting you need a quicker option, and there are several. The most common is to try to figure out if the character is used in another character combination you are familiar with. As a simple example in English, say you learn the new phrase red-eye, and you want to know what the 'red' character is. You might say, 'is that red as in 'I read a book?' And your friend would say, 'no, it's not, it's red as in 'red bull' or 'red, white and blue.' This option only works if you already know the character but haven't yet associated it with this particular meaning/phrase. The second possible method is to have the person write the character out for you. This seems obvious, but what I mean mostly is not with a pen, but usually by tracing the character with a finger on a hand or a table. You've got to watch carefully for this to work. Thirdly, they might explain what radicals make it up: 'well, it's got a tree radical on the left, and then a sheep radical on the right.' There are names for each of the strokes, too, which can be used to help 'there's a horizontal line then a downward hook, and a little dot.'
Along with no spelling comes no spelling bees, no crossword puzzles, no word searches, no boggle, no ghost and no scrabble. Instead there are other word games based on characters, which I am just getting to the surface of, and looking forward to more of. There are lots sort of like rebus puzzles, where you have to put together clues about the radicals that make up characters and maybe some clues about the pronunciation. While the commonality of puns makes them not very funny or clever in most situtations, it opens a lot of possibilities here. Another I really enjoy is to start with a simple character (like 日) and try to come up with all the characters which can be made by adding only one stroke (申，电，白，旦，旧）, or two strokes, etc.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Music
You probably have some melody in your head that you associate with Chinese music, likely having to do with the traditional 5 note scale. I've been learning a little bit about it, and playing traditional tunes from different time periods and regions, but I've been learning more about the Lanzhou approach to music these days than anything else. I've got a lot of experiences saved up to talk about here: playing with a Chinese orchestra, a concert given by an orchestra of traditional instruments, a month's worth of Chinese violin lessons, a student singing talent show, and yesterday's harmonica concert. I'm still not sure what this means about music in general here, something about a strong appreciation and pride, a sort of confused mix of influences from different traditions, and a lack of musical experience in the general public (if you play, you're good, with few dabblers). I'll start from the end.
1. Harmonica concert
I usually play tennis on Saturday afternoons, but this week my tennis friend Tian wu xing asked if I'd be interested to come along to a '口琴/kouqin' concert. He'd recently started taking lessons, and his teacher had organized a concert bringing together kouqin experts from all across China or something. So I looked up 'kouqin,' which literaly means 'mouth instrument,' in my dictionary. My faithful dictionary said it meant 'harmonica,' but I didn't believe it and decided it must be some kind of Chinese wind instrument that didn't have a proper English translation. This was eing taken way to seriously to be about harmonicas. To my surprise, which I had to keep my insides from laughing about for a good 15 minutes, it was indeed a harmonica concert. I even got to hear 'eine kleine nachtmusik' performed by five harmonicas. It was even better than the lady who plays baroque melodies on the flutaphone. Unfortunately the concert was preceded by an hour long 'meeting' held by these harmonica experts which I don't think anyone in the audience paid attention to, and whose purpose still evades me.
The empty stage:
The kids warming up noisily behind us:
Wu xing and I discussing the program, learning useful new vocabulary such as 'arranged by' and wondering why the actual composers were not listed for most of the pieces. Plus you can see my hair slowly turning brown again:
Another friend, Wang hai feng, who also came along:
And here's an idea, though dark, of what the long pre-concert meeting was like:
Honestly, though, I enjoyed the concert, because practicing even the harmonica for years has good results. My friend's teacher has been playing the harmonica for over 60 years, and his son and grandsons also performed impressively. It was something else to watch teenage boys playing four harmonicas at once, stacked on top of eachother. It was even wackier to see full-grown men in suits pecking their heads from side to across a tiny instrument, or sliding a really long, deep one like a typewriter. There were groups of little children, too, and at the end they all came together for a finale. Harmonicas played classical works, and various kinds of Chinese or Chinese minority tunes. I've never known anyone to really take this instrument anywhere near this seriously. I don't know if this is a cultural difference, there may well be harmonica players in the US and they're just not very public about it? Or, I may just have happend on the rare case of it in China. I wish I had a recording, but I forgot my camera (pics are not mine). Here we go:
The kids go first:
And a soloist with a table of about 7 harmonicas in front of him, usually playing 2-3 at a time:
A grown trio:
A combined medley across generations to finish:
2. Student Talent Show
A couple weeks ago, I tried to go to the Lanzhou University Graduate student singing talent show. I went because my friend Travis, one of my two American friends, was performing. This was the final round - there were only 15 contestants left. He was quite the talk around campus, apparently, because it's very unusual for a foreigner to participate in this event. Frankly it's no wonder because it's impossible for us to figure out anything that's going on on campus. I still don't know where things are posted or how to sort through the Chinese even if I find something that looks like an activity (and is why I find myself saying over and over, 'a friend helped me find..., a friend told me about.... that's really how I get to know most things here). Anyway, the place was too small and packed, but I was trying to show support for my fellow countryman and fought my way in the back, where I could stand on tiptoes, squeezed in neck to neck with a whole lot of people.
This was definitely the place to be. As the first singers went through their routines, though, I become really unimpressed. The sound system was terrible - sometimes you could hardly hear the singing, and they just weren't very good. I've heard much better at KTV (karaoke)!! Thinking about it later, I think the kids just don't have any experience either performing or watching their peers perform. Also, most have little musical background. Only a small percentage have had the opportunity to study a musical instrument, which is very different from the US where a lot of kids have at least dabbled in a school band or orchestra. Maybe my expectations were too high. Travis, honestly, was decent -- he just started Chinese this past summer but he's a really eager, happy-go-lucky guy...he played the guitar to accompany his song (the only performer who played an instrument), which was half in English and half in Chinese. As he walked on stage I heard murmurs of 'he's so tall!!' as they had to raise the mike as far as it would go for him. He was pretty good, but still, his guitar was all blurry and his words hard to make out. Maybe from the front the sound was a bit better but I doubt it. He got a lot of shouts for singing in Chinese, and I was glad I had suffered through the near suffocating body heat that was surrounding me. After his number, I booked it out of there.
3. Orchestra of Chinese instruments
Back in October, the school took us to see a performance of Chinese traditional music and dance, especially featuring various ethnic groups from here and nearby regions of northwestern China. I absolutely loved the first half, which was a concert by an orchestra of traditional instruments -- I'd heard of the erhu, which has two strings and is held on the lap (see instruments on left, video below), but didn't know much about what others were like (you can see lute-like pipas and hear some great Chinese drumming). Then there were cymbols and a bass drum and a couple out of place looking cellos. If you look carefully in the back you can see a string bass or two, as well. I have no idea if this is some modern arrangement, if there once were Chinese instruments in this range, or what. Below are a couple photos of the orchestra and later a smaller ensemble that played, and some from the second half which was dance, filled with elaborate costumes and visual effects. The Chinese also have this thing about putting you in couches -- most of the seats were couches rather than chairs or auditorium seating. I find this a little too comfortable and a little too low, and makes me feel like I'm watching TV. A lot of western restaurants also have this idea, and sit you in a couch at your table. Here are some pictures. You'll notice the red banner above the stage stating what the performance is and why it's being held. The Chinese love their red banners. Which appear for various events and to convey various messages, both inside and outside.
The orchestra:
The Chinese Flinstones:
Dance acts:
4. Playing with a Chinese orchestra
When I was looking around for a violin teacher, my friend He wen juan went to the effort of finding out that there was no orchestra at the university, but there was one at the best high school in town. Her painting teacher's daughter played the cello in it, and with their help she'd arranged for me to try it out. If I liked it, I could probably join. So, I went along on a Saturday afternoon last month. I should have found out a little more about it before. Or maybe I should have just figured it out for myself. The musicians were all high school students, about 16-17 years old. I really enjoyed experiencing the rehearsal, if only to find out that it was much like many rehearsals I've been to before. We played one piece, by a Korean composer, which I didn't care much for d'ailleurs, for 2.5 hours. It was, in short, a high school orchestra. The kids didn't pay much attention, they chatted and passed messages on their cell phones, some trying to find out who I was. The cymbal player kept giggling when she was called out several times for coming in at the wrong place. Though I felt bad because my friend had put such effort into finding this orchestra for me, ultimately it was an easy decision not to join. My strongest feeling was how familiar this felt - I've been in this kind of orchestra before - and that's not what I was looking for. Instead, I have found something else...
5. Violin lessons
Another friend, who's father teaches dance, connected me with a violin teacher or works and lives in the same place. So for the past month, on Sunday evening, I go for my hour long violin lesson and have dinner with my friend and his family. This friend has recently left town, but I've become a weekly regular, and enjoy both eating meals in a home (though it isn't by any means home-cooked with any warm cozy connotation), and studying Chinese/English with my friend's 13 year old half brother, who's actually a pretty good teacher :). But anyway, about the lessons -- I was initially impressed by the way my teacher picked up on everything I knew I do wrong from the very start. He recommended books for me to buy and gives me a variety of things to practice from them each week. I've got a book of Chinese pieces, and one of western classical pieces. As you might imagine, the vocabulary can be pretty tough. They're on the do-re-mi system, like France was, so instead of referring to the notes by letter names, they get a name on the do-re-mi scale with do set as C. The classical pieces are still marked with Italian, just as I'm used to, and there's a handy glassary in the back of one of my books defining them in Chinese.
Chinese is extremely logical, but sometimes that logic doesn't fit with my idea of what is logical. I am ever confused by two directional terms: 上 and 下. These are opposites - in front of words like 'month' or 'time' using the first then means 'last month' or 'last time' and using the second means 'next.' But these terms also mean above and below, respectively (can't you tell from the characters?). For whatever reason, I have trouble though with the association of 'above' and 'last,' because to me these just don't seem like the same idea. And now I've got another, which is that a downbow is '下 bow' and upbow is '上 bow.' Another example is that the strings are numbered from top to bottom, with the highest being 1 and lowest 4. I can't remember if this is how I would have done it before, but in any case I got it wrong at first. Mostly though, I like learning this vocabulary - spiccato (jumping bow), staccato, vibrato, harmonics, quarter note, etc. And I like playing Mongolian shepherd's songs, and songs for Spring Festival, or celebrating a return from service in the Chinese army.
I also enjoy the metaphors my teacher comes up with to explain techniques or feeling in the music. Sometimes they take a really long time to understand because I'm missing vocabulary, like when he tried to explain that this bowing motion should resemble the way lotus root has all these gooey fibers that gracefully but resistantly stretch out when you cut it into slices. Or when he explained that I shouldn't bend my right wrist because it would prevent the flow from my shoulder through my arm and into the violin like a kink in a hose, and instead should be like the spout on a tea kettle. Figuring out who the pieces are by in my book of western music and exercise books is also not easy - as I said before, the Chinese adapt names from any other language into their syllabic system, making them often unrecognizable until you already know who they're supposed to be. For instance, Vivaldi, since Chinese has no 'v' sound, is 'wei er di,' and Kreutzer is Ke lai cai er. I remember loving the sound of 'mesopotamia' in chinese, and it cracks me up at times to hear famous people's names - you can imagine brad pitt and arnold schwarzenegger, perhaps, chinese-icized.
1. Harmonica concert
I usually play tennis on Saturday afternoons, but this week my tennis friend Tian wu xing asked if I'd be interested to come along to a '口琴/kouqin' concert. He'd recently started taking lessons, and his teacher had organized a concert bringing together kouqin experts from all across China or something. So I looked up 'kouqin,' which literaly means 'mouth instrument,' in my dictionary. My faithful dictionary said it meant 'harmonica,' but I didn't believe it and decided it must be some kind of Chinese wind instrument that didn't have a proper English translation. This was eing taken way to seriously to be about harmonicas. To my surprise, which I had to keep my insides from laughing about for a good 15 minutes, it was indeed a harmonica concert. I even got to hear 'eine kleine nachtmusik' performed by five harmonicas. It was even better than the lady who plays baroque melodies on the flutaphone. Unfortunately the concert was preceded by an hour long 'meeting' held by these harmonica experts which I don't think anyone in the audience paid attention to, and whose purpose still evades me.
The empty stage:
The kids warming up noisily behind us:
Wu xing and I discussing the program, learning useful new vocabulary such as 'arranged by' and wondering why the actual composers were not listed for most of the pieces. Plus you can see my hair slowly turning brown again:
Another friend, Wang hai feng, who also came along:
And here's an idea, though dark, of what the long pre-concert meeting was like:
Honestly, though, I enjoyed the concert, because practicing even the harmonica for years has good results. My friend's teacher has been playing the harmonica for over 60 years, and his son and grandsons also performed impressively. It was something else to watch teenage boys playing four harmonicas at once, stacked on top of eachother. It was even wackier to see full-grown men in suits pecking their heads from side to across a tiny instrument, or sliding a really long, deep one like a typewriter. There were groups of little children, too, and at the end they all came together for a finale. Harmonicas played classical works, and various kinds of Chinese or Chinese minority tunes. I've never known anyone to really take this instrument anywhere near this seriously. I don't know if this is a cultural difference, there may well be harmonica players in the US and they're just not very public about it? Or, I may just have happend on the rare case of it in China. I wish I had a recording, but I forgot my camera (pics are not mine). Here we go:
The kids go first:
And a soloist with a table of about 7 harmonicas in front of him, usually playing 2-3 at a time:
A grown trio:
A combined medley across generations to finish:
2. Student Talent Show
A couple weeks ago, I tried to go to the Lanzhou University Graduate student singing talent show. I went because my friend Travis, one of my two American friends, was performing. This was the final round - there were only 15 contestants left. He was quite the talk around campus, apparently, because it's very unusual for a foreigner to participate in this event. Frankly it's no wonder because it's impossible for us to figure out anything that's going on on campus. I still don't know where things are posted or how to sort through the Chinese even if I find something that looks like an activity (and is why I find myself saying over and over, 'a friend helped me find..., a friend told me about.... that's really how I get to know most things here). Anyway, the place was too small and packed, but I was trying to show support for my fellow countryman and fought my way in the back, where I could stand on tiptoes, squeezed in neck to neck with a whole lot of people.
This was definitely the place to be. As the first singers went through their routines, though, I become really unimpressed. The sound system was terrible - sometimes you could hardly hear the singing, and they just weren't very good. I've heard much better at KTV (karaoke)!! Thinking about it later, I think the kids just don't have any experience either performing or watching their peers perform. Also, most have little musical background. Only a small percentage have had the opportunity to study a musical instrument, which is very different from the US where a lot of kids have at least dabbled in a school band or orchestra. Maybe my expectations were too high. Travis, honestly, was decent -- he just started Chinese this past summer but he's a really eager, happy-go-lucky guy...he played the guitar to accompany his song (the only performer who played an instrument), which was half in English and half in Chinese. As he walked on stage I heard murmurs of 'he's so tall!!' as they had to raise the mike as far as it would go for him. He was pretty good, but still, his guitar was all blurry and his words hard to make out. Maybe from the front the sound was a bit better but I doubt it. He got a lot of shouts for singing in Chinese, and I was glad I had suffered through the near suffocating body heat that was surrounding me. After his number, I booked it out of there.
3. Orchestra of Chinese instruments
Back in October, the school took us to see a performance of Chinese traditional music and dance, especially featuring various ethnic groups from here and nearby regions of northwestern China. I absolutely loved the first half, which was a concert by an orchestra of traditional instruments -- I'd heard of the erhu, which has two strings and is held on the lap (see instruments on left, video below), but didn't know much about what others were like (you can see lute-like pipas and hear some great Chinese drumming). Then there were cymbols and a bass drum and a couple out of place looking cellos. If you look carefully in the back you can see a string bass or two, as well. I have no idea if this is some modern arrangement, if there once were Chinese instruments in this range, or what. Below are a couple photos of the orchestra and later a smaller ensemble that played, and some from the second half which was dance, filled with elaborate costumes and visual effects. The Chinese also have this thing about putting you in couches -- most of the seats were couches rather than chairs or auditorium seating. I find this a little too comfortable and a little too low, and makes me feel like I'm watching TV. A lot of western restaurants also have this idea, and sit you in a couch at your table. Here are some pictures. You'll notice the red banner above the stage stating what the performance is and why it's being held. The Chinese love their red banners. Which appear for various events and to convey various messages, both inside and outside.
The orchestra:
The Chinese Flinstones:
Dance acts:
4. Playing with a Chinese orchestra
When I was looking around for a violin teacher, my friend He wen juan went to the effort of finding out that there was no orchestra at the university, but there was one at the best high school in town. Her painting teacher's daughter played the cello in it, and with their help she'd arranged for me to try it out. If I liked it, I could probably join. So, I went along on a Saturday afternoon last month. I should have found out a little more about it before. Or maybe I should have just figured it out for myself. The musicians were all high school students, about 16-17 years old. I really enjoyed experiencing the rehearsal, if only to find out that it was much like many rehearsals I've been to before. We played one piece, by a Korean composer, which I didn't care much for d'ailleurs, for 2.5 hours. It was, in short, a high school orchestra. The kids didn't pay much attention, they chatted and passed messages on their cell phones, some trying to find out who I was. The cymbal player kept giggling when she was called out several times for coming in at the wrong place. Though I felt bad because my friend had put such effort into finding this orchestra for me, ultimately it was an easy decision not to join. My strongest feeling was how familiar this felt - I've been in this kind of orchestra before - and that's not what I was looking for. Instead, I have found something else...
5. Violin lessons
Another friend, who's father teaches dance, connected me with a violin teacher or works and lives in the same place. So for the past month, on Sunday evening, I go for my hour long violin lesson and have dinner with my friend and his family. This friend has recently left town, but I've become a weekly regular, and enjoy both eating meals in a home (though it isn't by any means home-cooked with any warm cozy connotation), and studying Chinese/English with my friend's 13 year old half brother, who's actually a pretty good teacher :). But anyway, about the lessons -- I was initially impressed by the way my teacher picked up on everything I knew I do wrong from the very start. He recommended books for me to buy and gives me a variety of things to practice from them each week. I've got a book of Chinese pieces, and one of western classical pieces. As you might imagine, the vocabulary can be pretty tough. They're on the do-re-mi system, like France was, so instead of referring to the notes by letter names, they get a name on the do-re-mi scale with do set as C. The classical pieces are still marked with Italian, just as I'm used to, and there's a handy glassary in the back of one of my books defining them in Chinese.
Chinese is extremely logical, but sometimes that logic doesn't fit with my idea of what is logical. I am ever confused by two directional terms: 上 and 下. These are opposites - in front of words like 'month' or 'time' using the first then means 'last month' or 'last time' and using the second means 'next.' But these terms also mean above and below, respectively (can't you tell from the characters?). For whatever reason, I have trouble though with the association of 'above' and 'last,' because to me these just don't seem like the same idea. And now I've got another, which is that a downbow is '下 bow' and upbow is '上 bow.' Another example is that the strings are numbered from top to bottom, with the highest being 1 and lowest 4. I can't remember if this is how I would have done it before, but in any case I got it wrong at first. Mostly though, I like learning this vocabulary - spiccato (jumping bow), staccato, vibrato, harmonics, quarter note, etc. And I like playing Mongolian shepherd's songs, and songs for Spring Festival, or celebrating a return from service in the Chinese army.
I also enjoy the metaphors my teacher comes up with to explain techniques or feeling in the music. Sometimes they take a really long time to understand because I'm missing vocabulary, like when he tried to explain that this bowing motion should resemble the way lotus root has all these gooey fibers that gracefully but resistantly stretch out when you cut it into slices. Or when he explained that I shouldn't bend my right wrist because it would prevent the flow from my shoulder through my arm and into the violin like a kink in a hose, and instead should be like the spout on a tea kettle. Figuring out who the pieces are by in my book of western music and exercise books is also not easy - as I said before, the Chinese adapt names from any other language into their syllabic system, making them often unrecognizable until you already know who they're supposed to be. For instance, Vivaldi, since Chinese has no 'v' sound, is 'wei er di,' and Kreutzer is Ke lai cai er. I remember loving the sound of 'mesopotamia' in chinese, and it cracks me up at times to hear famous people's names - you can imagine brad pitt and arnold schwarzenegger, perhaps, chinese-icized.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
A Day in the Life 1: Friday (morning)
High time for an update, again. I think I'll tell you what my day was like today. It was very uneventful, which makes it great to write about, right?
I woke up just before 9 o'clock, and rushed into the bathroom to get the last of the hot water to wash up a bit (no time for a shower). I usually have oral Chinese class at 9 on Friday mornings, but my teacher had to go out of town this week, so painfully squeezed extra classes in last week. This morning I was thankful. I heated up water for my morning green tea, and made up some oatmeal with honey. Chinese milk is a strange beast. You can buy it in little one-serving bags which keep for 30 days. I dont know what they've done to the milk so that it will last that long, but it's not fresh, and inevitably has flavor. It's usually not a bad flavor, but still, I like my plain milk to taste like milk. Sometimes milk brands admit to actually flavoring their product, which is a pretty popular commodity. Since unflavored milk is flavored too, it sometimes feels good not to be lied to and I too occasionally buy walnut or peanut or wheat flavored milk. Generally not for my oatmeal though.
So I sat at my desk and had my breakfast, putting on a TED talk. I don't know what I'd do without TED and BBC documentaries. Chinese is stimulating to study, of course, but there's some kinds of challenges that it just can't provide. For instance, I just can't think complex things in Chinese, and as noted before, I can't read what's around me, and media in English is sparse to say the least. So, I rely heavily on online news, BBC documentaries (I'm almost done with 'Days that Shook the World') and TED talks. The TED talks (TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, and Design) are from an annual conference which invites really interesting people working in any field that touches even remotely on those topics to give a 20 minute talk or performance. Speakers have included Al Gore and Richard Dawkins, but most of them are people doing really cool stuff I've never heard about. Today I watched a biology professor at Berkeley talk about designing robotic feet from a combination of strategy ideas inspired by, among others, octupi, spiders, crabs, and geckos especially. Yesterday, I watched a mathemetician who talked about his project to study the way African villages were often constructed in the form of fractals. Anyway, site is highly recommended (www.ted.com).
Breakfast over, I started to preview a bit for my 11:00 listening class. I find I have to be careful with the previewing. I like to look up the characters I don't know ahead of time so that I won't waste my time listening to a whole discussion featuring one or a few words I don't understand, when if I'd just looked them up before I'd have been able to follow the whole thing. But, if I preview too thoroughly, class can get really boring. The biggest complaint I have about my classes here is that they all strictly follow a book. Honestly, the teachers are just there guide you through the book. They don't come up with exercises or activities, they rarely assign or look at homework, and every single unit of the books takes the exact same form, as does the way the teacher goes through them. Personally, I learned how to read and do exercises in a textbook by myself a long time ago, what I want is a teacher who is able to get me to use what I'm reading, able to explain it orally in a way that a book can't, and answer my questions about the language. There is time for questions, but I tend to either have none, or have too many, because I haven't understood anything we've just done. Plus, since the classes are all in Chinese, it's hard for the teacher to give an explanation for something we don't understand that's simple enough for us to understand...it's very easy for the explanation to turn out to be harder to understand than the original concept.
Back to listening class. I particularly dislike this class. First of all, I feel like most of my life here is a listening class, so it's not very useful. We've recently changed teachers, but I don't find either of them particularly inspiring. The first teacher used to talk unbearably slowly. Many of my classmates didn't mind, but I was particularly frustrated by this. We all spoke faster than him. How could he possibly not notice this? Finally we (I) were sort of complaining to another teacher about this and she told him. After that it got a bit better. Still, he struck me as condescending to us, and treated everything as if we didn't know. Every other sentence was 'do you understand?,' he'd even ask us silly things like, 'do you know what 'time' means?.' I just really didn't understand - we were studying difficult words too like how to say the nape of your neck and latitude. Last week he announced that something had come up and he wouldn't be able to teach us anymore.
I was apprehensive about what the new teacher would be like, and rightly so. I mean, she's ok, but again it goes back to the point that I don't really need a teacher if all she's going to do is read the book to me. Basically she just tells us which exerciese to do in the book, turns the tape recordings on and off and goes over the answers (which are in the back anyway). At least she speaks quickly, but she has a habit of translating words absolutely unnecessarily into English. I wouldn't mind if she were translating words that I didn't know, but she's not. She'll translate 'heart,' for example, or 'baby'. I'm the only one in my class who's first language is English, and though some of them speak quite well, nearly all speak better Chinese than English. Plus, I'm not very patient.
This makes me think of another issue which has been something to deal with - how do I want to be treated in conversation with a Chinese person? Ideally, of course, the answer is that I would like to spoken to the same way as if I were a native speaker. I do hope to get there, but at this point that's not necessarily the best scenario, because I'm likely to miss things and not understand at points. I have some friends who do this, and I like them for it. Sometimes I just have to let things slide by that they say, but I learn the most from them. I have always thought this was important when speaking to foreigners in the US or in England -- not to dumb down the language at all because hearing it the way it is spoken is why they came, and is essential for improvement. There is also the case of Chinese who want to speak to me in English, of course. I am generally strongly against this -- I came to China to study Chinese. If you, friend, want to learn English then why don't you displace yourself and go to the US? The argument doesn't work as well here as in Europe per se, because it's not so easy for my peers to go abroad, even if they do want to. So I occasionally tolerate it, but my response is always in Chinese. Most Chinese students my age have studied English for many years, but can hardly speak. They're mostly happy to slip into Chinese then and have some discussion. Their vocabulary is extensive, but are uncomfortable with conversation.
So I sat through my Chinese listening class, which involved listening with lots of numbers, and writing them accurantly in the blanks in the book, distinguishing between similar sounding sentences, and deciding on the 'mood/tone' of a sequence of statements. Oh, and there was also a dialogue about the growing elderly population in various countries in the world, following by questions to check comprehension. The class is an hour and forty minutes long, as are all my classes. Afterwards, I went to have dumplings for lunch with some classmates. I don't eat dumplings very often, but I like them a lot because they're good, and because they change things up from the usual rice or pulled noodles. We went to a chain this time, and each ordered about 20. I had a combination of lamb and turnip, three mushroom, and a toufu/vegetable mix. Dipped in a mixture of vinegar and hot sauce, they're quite tasty.
I apologize for only getting through the morning, but that's a lot to read already. Maybe next week you'll get to hear about Friday afternoon :)
I woke up just before 9 o'clock, and rushed into the bathroom to get the last of the hot water to wash up a bit (no time for a shower). I usually have oral Chinese class at 9 on Friday mornings, but my teacher had to go out of town this week, so painfully squeezed extra classes in last week. This morning I was thankful. I heated up water for my morning green tea, and made up some oatmeal with honey. Chinese milk is a strange beast. You can buy it in little one-serving bags which keep for 30 days. I dont know what they've done to the milk so that it will last that long, but it's not fresh, and inevitably has flavor. It's usually not a bad flavor, but still, I like my plain milk to taste like milk. Sometimes milk brands admit to actually flavoring their product, which is a pretty popular commodity. Since unflavored milk is flavored too, it sometimes feels good not to be lied to and I too occasionally buy walnut or peanut or wheat flavored milk. Generally not for my oatmeal though.
So I sat at my desk and had my breakfast, putting on a TED talk. I don't know what I'd do without TED and BBC documentaries. Chinese is stimulating to study, of course, but there's some kinds of challenges that it just can't provide. For instance, I just can't think complex things in Chinese, and as noted before, I can't read what's around me, and media in English is sparse to say the least. So, I rely heavily on online news, BBC documentaries (I'm almost done with 'Days that Shook the World') and TED talks. The TED talks (TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, and Design) are from an annual conference which invites really interesting people working in any field that touches even remotely on those topics to give a 20 minute talk or performance. Speakers have included Al Gore and Richard Dawkins, but most of them are people doing really cool stuff I've never heard about. Today I watched a biology professor at Berkeley talk about designing robotic feet from a combination of strategy ideas inspired by, among others, octupi, spiders, crabs, and geckos especially. Yesterday, I watched a mathemetician who talked about his project to study the way African villages were often constructed in the form of fractals. Anyway, site is highly recommended (www.ted.com).
Breakfast over, I started to preview a bit for my 11:00 listening class. I find I have to be careful with the previewing. I like to look up the characters I don't know ahead of time so that I won't waste my time listening to a whole discussion featuring one or a few words I don't understand, when if I'd just looked them up before I'd have been able to follow the whole thing. But, if I preview too thoroughly, class can get really boring. The biggest complaint I have about my classes here is that they all strictly follow a book. Honestly, the teachers are just there guide you through the book. They don't come up with exercises or activities, they rarely assign or look at homework, and every single unit of the books takes the exact same form, as does the way the teacher goes through them. Personally, I learned how to read and do exercises in a textbook by myself a long time ago, what I want is a teacher who is able to get me to use what I'm reading, able to explain it orally in a way that a book can't, and answer my questions about the language. There is time for questions, but I tend to either have none, or have too many, because I haven't understood anything we've just done. Plus, since the classes are all in Chinese, it's hard for the teacher to give an explanation for something we don't understand that's simple enough for us to understand...it's very easy for the explanation to turn out to be harder to understand than the original concept.
Back to listening class. I particularly dislike this class. First of all, I feel like most of my life here is a listening class, so it's not very useful. We've recently changed teachers, but I don't find either of them particularly inspiring. The first teacher used to talk unbearably slowly. Many of my classmates didn't mind, but I was particularly frustrated by this. We all spoke faster than him. How could he possibly not notice this? Finally we (I) were sort of complaining to another teacher about this and she told him. After that it got a bit better. Still, he struck me as condescending to us, and treated everything as if we didn't know. Every other sentence was 'do you understand?,' he'd even ask us silly things like, 'do you know what 'time' means?.' I just really didn't understand - we were studying difficult words too like how to say the nape of your neck and latitude. Last week he announced that something had come up and he wouldn't be able to teach us anymore.
I was apprehensive about what the new teacher would be like, and rightly so. I mean, she's ok, but again it goes back to the point that I don't really need a teacher if all she's going to do is read the book to me. Basically she just tells us which exerciese to do in the book, turns the tape recordings on and off and goes over the answers (which are in the back anyway). At least she speaks quickly, but she has a habit of translating words absolutely unnecessarily into English. I wouldn't mind if she were translating words that I didn't know, but she's not. She'll translate 'heart,' for example, or 'baby'. I'm the only one in my class who's first language is English, and though some of them speak quite well, nearly all speak better Chinese than English. Plus, I'm not very patient.
This makes me think of another issue which has been something to deal with - how do I want to be treated in conversation with a Chinese person? Ideally, of course, the answer is that I would like to spoken to the same way as if I were a native speaker. I do hope to get there, but at this point that's not necessarily the best scenario, because I'm likely to miss things and not understand at points. I have some friends who do this, and I like them for it. Sometimes I just have to let things slide by that they say, but I learn the most from them. I have always thought this was important when speaking to foreigners in the US or in England -- not to dumb down the language at all because hearing it the way it is spoken is why they came, and is essential for improvement. There is also the case of Chinese who want to speak to me in English, of course. I am generally strongly against this -- I came to China to study Chinese. If you, friend, want to learn English then why don't you displace yourself and go to the US? The argument doesn't work as well here as in Europe per se, because it's not so easy for my peers to go abroad, even if they do want to. So I occasionally tolerate it, but my response is always in Chinese. Most Chinese students my age have studied English for many years, but can hardly speak. They're mostly happy to slip into Chinese then and have some discussion. Their vocabulary is extensive, but are uncomfortable with conversation.
So I sat through my Chinese listening class, which involved listening with lots of numbers, and writing them accurantly in the blanks in the book, distinguishing between similar sounding sentences, and deciding on the 'mood/tone' of a sequence of statements. Oh, and there was also a dialogue about the growing elderly population in various countries in the world, following by questions to check comprehension. The class is an hour and forty minutes long, as are all my classes. Afterwards, I went to have dumplings for lunch with some classmates. I don't eat dumplings very often, but I like them a lot because they're good, and because they change things up from the usual rice or pulled noodles. We went to a chain this time, and each ordered about 20. I had a combination of lamb and turnip, three mushroom, and a toufu/vegetable mix. Dipped in a mixture of vinegar and hot sauce, they're quite tasty.
I apologize for only getting through the morning, but that's a lot to read already. Maybe next week you'll get to hear about Friday afternoon :)
Monday, November 26, 2007
To bargain or not to bargain
Tonight I sat down at my computer determined to complete at least one personal statement for graduate school. I find it quite difficult, however, to flip the switch and return completely to English, especially something resembling artful and expressive written English. Not to mention that to do so I've got to put myself in a mindset where next year does not seem completely abstract. So I'm going to do some warm-up writing here. It's about time anyway.
I've mentioned that things are cheap here, particularly food and services. I can eat quite easily, especially within the university campus, for $1-2 a day. Mostly I average a bit more than that, but still, the cost of each meal is almost always under $2. In other examples, it costs 1 yuan (13 cents) to ride the bus, and 5 mao (1/2 a yuan) for a simple clothing alteration.
Prices on the street are rarely fixed, and often in stores are negotiable as well. The question this has been bringing up recently is when and how adamantly I should bargain. I've thought this over before, most notably in Madagascar where things were even more inexpensive and bargaining was an even bigger deal. When the first price quoted is an amount you're easily willing to pay, should you bargain it down anyway? If you know someone is trying to get more money out of you than the going rate, but it's still not very much to you, and you know they need the money, should you just pay it?
Example 1: Pay toilets
Last month while visiting Bing ling si caves, I knew it should only cost 5 mao (1/2 a yuan) to use the bathroom, but the attendant tried to charge me 1 yuan. I called him on it and announced that I wasn't going to use the bathroom then if it cost that (I was paying for two friends as well so it seemed a little bigger of a rip off than it sounds). The attendant then agreed to the 5 mao rate and let us go. On the way out, a German tourist asked me what I'd been arguing about and I explained. She scolded me for it, saying that I could easily afford the 5 mao(about 6 cents), which was worth nothing to me, and should have just paid it.
Example 2: Buying fruit
I know you're supposed to bargain for fruit from stands on the street, but when I'm discussing whether a pomelo should be 3 or 4 yuan, or whether my collection of bananas and mandarin oranges should cost 8 yuan or 10 yuan, the struggle for cents starts to seem ridiculous.
Example 3: Violin lessons
A friend's family helped me find a violin teacher, and I agreed to the initial price of 60 yuan (about $8) for an hour lesson. How could I bargain this price when it actually is worth this much to me? How could I bargain this price when I could make twice as much to teach little kids English?
Sometimes I'm just not up for bargaining and accept whatever the vendors say. Other times I'm in a stubborn mood and refuse to budge on my price, walking away empty-handed or getting into a bit of an argument. I think I've come to the conclusion that it's important to bargain, most of the time. Bargaining is in the culture, as part of learning how things work here, and even showing respect for this custom, I want to understand when and how people bargain, and emulate it to some extent. But once I've bargained some, it's not worth haggling over a few pennies. The German lady was right, 6 cents is not much to me. On the other hand, I don't think the attendants or fruit vendors mind - they're used to it, they know what the going rate is, and they won't let you get away with any less. Plus, I'm not here as a tourist, I'm here for something of a long-run, and my 'income' is not a foreigner's income.
I've mentioned that things are cheap here, particularly food and services. I can eat quite easily, especially within the university campus, for $1-2 a day. Mostly I average a bit more than that, but still, the cost of each meal is almost always under $2. In other examples, it costs 1 yuan (13 cents) to ride the bus, and 5 mao (1/2 a yuan) for a simple clothing alteration.
Prices on the street are rarely fixed, and often in stores are negotiable as well. The question this has been bringing up recently is when and how adamantly I should bargain. I've thought this over before, most notably in Madagascar where things were even more inexpensive and bargaining was an even bigger deal. When the first price quoted is an amount you're easily willing to pay, should you bargain it down anyway? If you know someone is trying to get more money out of you than the going rate, but it's still not very much to you, and you know they need the money, should you just pay it?
Example 1: Pay toilets
Last month while visiting Bing ling si caves, I knew it should only cost 5 mao (1/2 a yuan) to use the bathroom, but the attendant tried to charge me 1 yuan. I called him on it and announced that I wasn't going to use the bathroom then if it cost that (I was paying for two friends as well so it seemed a little bigger of a rip off than it sounds). The attendant then agreed to the 5 mao rate and let us go. On the way out, a German tourist asked me what I'd been arguing about and I explained. She scolded me for it, saying that I could easily afford the 5 mao(about 6 cents), which was worth nothing to me, and should have just paid it.
Example 2: Buying fruit
I know you're supposed to bargain for fruit from stands on the street, but when I'm discussing whether a pomelo should be 3 or 4 yuan, or whether my collection of bananas and mandarin oranges should cost 8 yuan or 10 yuan, the struggle for cents starts to seem ridiculous.
Example 3: Violin lessons
A friend's family helped me find a violin teacher, and I agreed to the initial price of 60 yuan (about $8) for an hour lesson. How could I bargain this price when it actually is worth this much to me? How could I bargain this price when I could make twice as much to teach little kids English?
Sometimes I'm just not up for bargaining and accept whatever the vendors say. Other times I'm in a stubborn mood and refuse to budge on my price, walking away empty-handed or getting into a bit of an argument. I think I've come to the conclusion that it's important to bargain, most of the time. Bargaining is in the culture, as part of learning how things work here, and even showing respect for this custom, I want to understand when and how people bargain, and emulate it to some extent. But once I've bargained some, it's not worth haggling over a few pennies. The German lady was right, 6 cents is not much to me. On the other hand, I don't think the attendants or fruit vendors mind - they're used to it, they know what the going rate is, and they won't let you get away with any less. Plus, I'm not here as a tourist, I'm here for something of a long-run, and my 'income' is not a foreigner's income.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Written Chinese, and being illiterate
It's a strange feeling to be illiterate here. It's different from being able to read a foreign language but not understand it (such as we can do with Italian, French, or Spanish, for instance). I guess it's comparable to being surrounded by Russian or Korean or any language that's written with a different alphabet. Then, too, you can't read the names of places or look words up in the dictionary. But Chinese illiteracy goes a step further because that initial overwhelming illiteracy goes away painfully gradually. The difference is that in most languages, there's an alphabet to learn, and after a short struggle, you can read anything. Written Chinese, though, is not phonetic, and two months in, I'm still frequently surrounded by incomprehensible, inaccessible material.
So those rumors are true - Chinese has no alphabet. When you look at written Chinese characters, you can't sound out how they should be pronounced. Each character does represent a syllable, but may have a different pronuncation depending on its usage, and many characters often represent the same syllable. There are only 411 possible syllables (I don't really know how this compares with other languages, but one of the particularities is that you can't create any more. You can't 'rearrange the letters' to make a new sound combination, because there are no letters to rearrange.) Multiply those 411 syllables by the 4 tones, and you get 1644 possible monosyllabic pronunciations (the actual number in use is less because not every syllable exists in all four tones). Yet this 1644 is not the number of Chinese characters either since each one is represented by anywhere from 1 to over 40 characters - which character is used depends on the meaning. I've read that the total number of characters is upwards of 50,000, though many of these are rare and you only need to know 3,000-4,000 to be literate. I think most educated Chinese know over 10,000.
How in the world can you learn even 3,000 characters? It definitely involves feats of memorization to instantaneously recall the correlation between written character and phonetic syllable. It's kind of like a giant game of memory - a multi-dimensional memory game, in fact - because you also need to associate other information somewhat arbitrarily with each character: one of the four tones, a meaning, and some information about how to use it. Put this way, it sounds kind of impossible or at least tedious, but the characters are aesthetically pleasing to read and write, and are interesting. Though some characters' representations are arbitrary, or the reason for them has been lost or distorted, many make some sort of sense. The characters are built of smaller units called radicals that can be found in various combinations within them. There are about 225 of these radicals, though some are much more common than others. Each radical has a meaning associated with it -- for instance, 氵means water, 口 means mouth, and 刀 means knife -- and are found in characters which have something to do with that meaning, such as:
渴 - thirsty, 海 - sea, 泡 - bubble
唱 - sing, 咳嗽 - cough
分 - to divide, 切 - to cut
Besides the radicals making up a single character, many words are made up of two or more characters (such as cough above), and this combination of characters is also often interesting and creative. In a way, learning characters is like studying Latin roots to understand the meaning of English words, or even just considering the reason our words and phrases are constituted the way they are. While I'm on the topic, one of my favorite examples of the radicals adding to the meaning of words is in the Chinese periodic table -- just from looking at the characters, you can till which ones are gases, which are metals, and which are non-metals because they have the air/gas (气), metal (钅), and stone (石) radicals respectively (see http://www.limestone.on.ca/ibuild/davies/chinesept.html). This doesn't seem very fair for a chemistry test, though.
But back to this issue of illiteracy - the reasoning within the characters only gives a hint, at best, to the meaning, and doesn't tell you how to pronounce the character. To be fair, sometimes there is a radical within the character which hints at the sound - has nothing to do with the meaning, but is either part of another character or is itself an independent character which has the same or similar sound. For example, the above character for bubble is pronounced 'pao,' while the right part, when independent, is itself a character， 包, pronounced 'bao.' Still, you can never be completely sure that what you see in new character is a pronunciation clue.
So, as in the pao/bao example above, there is a standard way to write Chinese pronunciation using the Roman alphabet. Very, very occasionally these are printed on signs. This is called pin yin, and is essential for studying Chinese, but can't really replace the characters for several reasons (the most important probably being the issue of homonyms and the fact that many dialects of Chinese do not use the 'standard' pronunciation but can still read any Chinese text because the characters are the same).
Not being able to read unknown words is quite an obstacle for learning a language, and I would say slows it down considerably. First, it takes a long time to learn each character. It is generally not enough just to look at a character to be able to remember it and write it, I find that I must practice and write it myself many times first. And, how can you look up words you don't know in the dictionary if there's no 'alphabetical order' to follow? The traditional way to solve this involves counting the number of strokes in teh major radical in the character and then in the rest of the character, and is a rather cumbersome process. In general, I bypass this by either asking any Chinese person in the vicinity to read the character to me and then look it up by its pin yin, or by drawing it into my electronic dictionary or my computer, which then skillfully recongnizes it (or rather giving me a list of characters it thinks I might be attempting to draw). Still, not very convenient.
Typing Chinese is also not particularly convenient, but also kind of fun. I type to use online dictionaries, to chat on the web with friends, and most often to send text messages on my phone. The keyboard can't have thousands of characters obviously, so entry is by the standardized pin yin. Once you type in a syllable, you're presented with all the options of characters which have that pronunciation. You can type a whole phrase or sentence, and the software tries to adapt and guess what you're saying, though you often have to correct it. My phone system doesn't have this, but it does try to offer suggestions for what the next character should be, based on the previous one or presenting the most commonly used characters. I worry a bit when I think I'm typing something very common but the computer doesn't come up with my phrase for me, and I can get an idea of how difficult my vocabulary words are by how far back they are in the list of characters the computer presents to me. It's still kind of astonishing for me to see it come up with characters, though I suppose it's not a very complicated computer program. I wish it was a bitter smarter though, and maybe could learn what phrases I commonly use and adapt to suggest these more readily. It's also rather inconvenient to be constanty alt-shifting my way between the four languages installed on my computer (English, French, Korean, and Chinese), to activate the right keyboard at the right time.
Despite not being able to read, I like going to the bookstore here - there are many of them. There are huge sections on learning English (which unfortunately can't very easily be used in reverse to learn Chinese because there's no pin yin). Most remarkably, there are always lots of people there. There aren't nice couches and coffeeshops, but there is space in the aisles and on the stairs and this can and is used for the same purpose. I like to look around at the different subjects, the way the books are organized, and see what people are reading. I bought a dictionary, and I bought a book for 8-12 year olds about ecology.
Books are cheap. They range from about about $1-6 generally. Also, there is a rather big business of photocopying them. You can take a book to one of many places on campus or in town where someone photocopies each page by hand and then uses glue to bind them together for you. This is bad for copyright reasons, but it's good for books which aren't available to buy -- such as books from the US shared among us foreign students, or for copying a book of violin exercises lent by my teacher, published in 1962 in Russia, and not available in China (I'm taking violin lessons here! more on this later).
I guess that after all, I shouldn't say I'm illiterate now. Being able to read is a slow process and I have a long way to go, but I can read so much more than before. And, the biggest difference is qualitative - even considering the characters I don't know yet, Chinese doesn't look so foreign anymore.
So those rumors are true - Chinese has no alphabet. When you look at written Chinese characters, you can't sound out how they should be pronounced. Each character does represent a syllable, but may have a different pronuncation depending on its usage, and many characters often represent the same syllable. There are only 411 possible syllables (I don't really know how this compares with other languages, but one of the particularities is that you can't create any more. You can't 'rearrange the letters' to make a new sound combination, because there are no letters to rearrange.) Multiply those 411 syllables by the 4 tones, and you get 1644 possible monosyllabic pronunciations (the actual number in use is less because not every syllable exists in all four tones). Yet this 1644 is not the number of Chinese characters either since each one is represented by anywhere from 1 to over 40 characters - which character is used depends on the meaning. I've read that the total number of characters is upwards of 50,000, though many of these are rare and you only need to know 3,000-4,000 to be literate. I think most educated Chinese know over 10,000.
How in the world can you learn even 3,000 characters? It definitely involves feats of memorization to instantaneously recall the correlation between written character and phonetic syllable. It's kind of like a giant game of memory - a multi-dimensional memory game, in fact - because you also need to associate other information somewhat arbitrarily with each character: one of the four tones, a meaning, and some information about how to use it. Put this way, it sounds kind of impossible or at least tedious, but the characters are aesthetically pleasing to read and write, and are interesting. Though some characters' representations are arbitrary, or the reason for them has been lost or distorted, many make some sort of sense. The characters are built of smaller units called radicals that can be found in various combinations within them. There are about 225 of these radicals, though some are much more common than others. Each radical has a meaning associated with it -- for instance, 氵means water, 口 means mouth, and 刀 means knife -- and are found in characters which have something to do with that meaning, such as:
渴 - thirsty, 海 - sea, 泡 - bubble
唱 - sing, 咳嗽 - cough
分 - to divide, 切 - to cut
Besides the radicals making up a single character, many words are made up of two or more characters (such as cough above), and this combination of characters is also often interesting and creative. In a way, learning characters is like studying Latin roots to understand the meaning of English words, or even just considering the reason our words and phrases are constituted the way they are. While I'm on the topic, one of my favorite examples of the radicals adding to the meaning of words is in the Chinese periodic table -- just from looking at the characters, you can till which ones are gases, which are metals, and which are non-metals because they have the air/gas (气), metal (钅), and stone (石) radicals respectively (see http://www.limestone.on.ca/ibuild/davies/chinesept.html). This doesn't seem very fair for a chemistry test, though.
But back to this issue of illiteracy - the reasoning within the characters only gives a hint, at best, to the meaning, and doesn't tell you how to pronounce the character. To be fair, sometimes there is a radical within the character which hints at the sound - has nothing to do with the meaning, but is either part of another character or is itself an independent character which has the same or similar sound. For example, the above character for bubble is pronounced 'pao,' while the right part, when independent, is itself a character， 包, pronounced 'bao.' Still, you can never be completely sure that what you see in new character is a pronunciation clue.
So, as in the pao/bao example above, there is a standard way to write Chinese pronunciation using the Roman alphabet. Very, very occasionally these are printed on signs. This is called pin yin, and is essential for studying Chinese, but can't really replace the characters for several reasons (the most important probably being the issue of homonyms and the fact that many dialects of Chinese do not use the 'standard' pronunciation but can still read any Chinese text because the characters are the same).
Not being able to read unknown words is quite an obstacle for learning a language, and I would say slows it down considerably. First, it takes a long time to learn each character. It is generally not enough just to look at a character to be able to remember it and write it, I find that I must practice and write it myself many times first. And, how can you look up words you don't know in the dictionary if there's no 'alphabetical order' to follow? The traditional way to solve this involves counting the number of strokes in teh major radical in the character and then in the rest of the character, and is a rather cumbersome process. In general, I bypass this by either asking any Chinese person in the vicinity to read the character to me and then look it up by its pin yin, or by drawing it into my electronic dictionary or my computer, which then skillfully recongnizes it (or rather giving me a list of characters it thinks I might be attempting to draw). Still, not very convenient.
Typing Chinese is also not particularly convenient, but also kind of fun. I type to use online dictionaries, to chat on the web with friends, and most often to send text messages on my phone. The keyboard can't have thousands of characters obviously, so entry is by the standardized pin yin. Once you type in a syllable, you're presented with all the options of characters which have that pronunciation. You can type a whole phrase or sentence, and the software tries to adapt and guess what you're saying, though you often have to correct it. My phone system doesn't have this, but it does try to offer suggestions for what the next character should be, based on the previous one or presenting the most commonly used characters. I worry a bit when I think I'm typing something very common but the computer doesn't come up with my phrase for me, and I can get an idea of how difficult my vocabulary words are by how far back they are in the list of characters the computer presents to me. It's still kind of astonishing for me to see it come up with characters, though I suppose it's not a very complicated computer program. I wish it was a bitter smarter though, and maybe could learn what phrases I commonly use and adapt to suggest these more readily. It's also rather inconvenient to be constanty alt-shifting my way between the four languages installed on my computer (English, French, Korean, and Chinese), to activate the right keyboard at the right time.
Despite not being able to read, I like going to the bookstore here - there are many of them. There are huge sections on learning English (which unfortunately can't very easily be used in reverse to learn Chinese because there's no pin yin). Most remarkably, there are always lots of people there. There aren't nice couches and coffeeshops, but there is space in the aisles and on the stairs and this can and is used for the same purpose. I like to look around at the different subjects, the way the books are organized, and see what people are reading. I bought a dictionary, and I bought a book for 8-12 year olds about ecology.
Books are cheap. They range from about about $1-6 generally. Also, there is a rather big business of photocopying them. You can take a book to one of many places on campus or in town where someone photocopies each page by hand and then uses glue to bind them together for you. This is bad for copyright reasons, but it's good for books which aren't available to buy -- such as books from the US shared among us foreign students, or for copying a book of violin exercises lent by my teacher, published in 1962 in Russia, and not available in China (I'm taking violin lessons here! more on this later).
I guess that after all, I shouldn't say I'm illiterate now. Being able to read is a slow process and I have a long way to go, but I can read so much more than before. And, the biggest difference is qualitative - even considering the characters I don't know yet, Chinese doesn't look so foreign anymore.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Caterpillars turn into...
I was walking down the street yesterday with a Chinese friend after dinner and noticed a strange sign. There are signs lit up all over the place advertising a restaurant or some new product and I often take advantage of my company to learn what things around me say and mean (photographing signs is also not beyond me). Usually they're not very interesting, but I often get a new vocabulary word or two. This one looked particularly strange -- it said something about a worm, so I was very curious why a huge yellow sign, posted vertically sprawling five floors, had something to tell me about worms. There were four important characters on the sign -- 'winter worm summer grass.' I still didn't get it once these were identified, so my friend started to explain that there was this caterpillar that, instead of turning into a butterfly, turned into a plant, from which you got this expression, in the winter it was a 'worm' and in the summer a 'grass'. I still didn't quite get it, so my friend, being a good scientist in fact, went into more detail, explaining that this wasn't quite the whole story. The caterpillar doesn't actually turn into a plant, and actually the summer phase isn't a plant at all. In the winter when it should be metamorphosing into a butterfly, it often gets infected by a fungus, and in the summer a mushroom sprouts from it. This mushroom is extremely valuable in Chinese medicine, especiallly as a nutritional supplement for strength. Anyway, I later looked it up on wikipedia and indeed it's a pretty cool organism interaction that sort of does look like it results in a half worm/half mushroom type of thing (.
My friend was initially astonished that I was so puzzled by this situation - why hadn't I heard of this very well-known thing before? It's easy to forget that the things so well known to you can be unheard of to others. I forget this often too, and it's nice to be jolted to remember that there are a million things you don't know, and a million things that don't necessarily have to be the way you know them to be. An example, perhaps with the table turned, was in a conversation earlier in the week with this same friend. We somehow came upon the topic of time zones. China is roughly the same size as the US, but is all on the same time, whereas the US spans four different zones. I have thought this ridiculous for China and tried to explain why -- it means that the time of sunrise in the east must be 3-4 hours different from the time of sunrise in the very west. For example, some people may have sunrise at 5am, and others at 8 or 9am, and I would guess it means that someone is having sunrise and/or sunset at a rather awkward time. (I guess we're all on Beijing time, which to my calculation should mean I get more sunlight in the evening than I should, so I'm not too upset by it. Still, I find that acknowledging that the earth spins is more reasonable.) My friend though, thought it was equally ridiculous that a single country could split itself into time zones, making unnecessary complications for domestic affairs. What about live telecasts? What about national exams? What about phoning someone across the country? What about traveling on business to the opposite coast? I still argued that regulating daylight hours was more important, but admitted that sometimes making phone calls, or waiting for election results, or probably arranging important national live speeches, was inconvenient. I realized someone living with this alternate situation might quite reasonably hold this opinion I had previously not considered. I think we both came out with a bit better understanding of the two sides. We're used to the inconveniences that come with having time zones, but we also have states with power that allows some domestic affairs to be taken care of on this level, and state boundaries to serve as time zone dividers. While people do often talk about different provinces and who's from where here, I think that China places a lot of importance on being a single, unified entity. I guess we do too, but maybe we're more comfortable and stable in this identity. China is large, populous, and has a large income gap between rich and poor, but it maintains a unified front to the world, and wants it citizens to feel that they belong.
My friend was initially astonished that I was so puzzled by this situation - why hadn't I heard of this very well-known thing before? It's easy to forget that the things so well known to you can be unheard of to others. I forget this often too, and it's nice to be jolted to remember that there are a million things you don't know, and a million things that don't necessarily have to be the way you know them to be. An example, perhaps with the table turned, was in a conversation earlier in the week with this same friend. We somehow came upon the topic of time zones. China is roughly the same size as the US, but is all on the same time, whereas the US spans four different zones. I have thought this ridiculous for China and tried to explain why -- it means that the time of sunrise in the east must be 3-4 hours different from the time of sunrise in the very west. For example, some people may have sunrise at 5am, and others at 8 or 9am, and I would guess it means that someone is having sunrise and/or sunset at a rather awkward time. (I guess we're all on Beijing time, which to my calculation should mean I get more sunlight in the evening than I should, so I'm not too upset by it. Still, I find that acknowledging that the earth spins is more reasonable.) My friend though, thought it was equally ridiculous that a single country could split itself into time zones, making unnecessary complications for domestic affairs. What about live telecasts? What about national exams? What about phoning someone across the country? What about traveling on business to the opposite coast? I still argued that regulating daylight hours was more important, but admitted that sometimes making phone calls, or waiting for election results, or probably arranging important national live speeches, was inconvenient. I realized someone living with this alternate situation might quite reasonably hold this opinion I had previously not considered. I think we both came out with a bit better understanding of the two sides. We're used to the inconveniences that come with having time zones, but we also have states with power that allows some domestic affairs to be taken care of on this level, and state boundaries to serve as time zone dividers. While people do often talk about different provinces and who's from where here, I think that China places a lot of importance on being a single, unified entity. I guess we do too, but maybe we're more comfortable and stable in this identity. China is large, populous, and has a large income gap between rich and poor, but it maintains a unified front to the world, and wants it citizens to feel that they belong.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Happy Halloween!
Happy Halloween, which I sort of forgot about until someone reminded me late this evening. I had been counting down the days until today, but for a rather different reason - rumor has it that the heat will be turned on tomorrow!!! Though I love sleeping on my electric blanket which warms up beneath me when I switch it on at night, the current temperature is an inappropriate indoor temperature. I don't want to wear my coat and gloves in class. I hope the rumor are true and it really heats up tomorrow. Meanwhile I hope lots of you are dressed up as witches and eating candy.
Numbers
Math, and numbers in general, are really interesting to observe in another culture. I guess it's because while I've known all along that languages are wildly different around the world, I somehow thought that counting should be the same. I got some feeling for this kind of difference in France where, possibly along with most of continental Europe, for example, the decimal point and comma have exchanged functions - a dot marks off the thousands place etc., and a comma separates the units from the tenths position (e.g. 1,300.5 in France would be written as 1.300,5).
Chinese has even more numerical surprises. First of all, it uses Arabic numerals, but when numbers are 'written out,' they of course get written in Chinese. 1, 2, and 3, correspond to 一, 二 and 三, for example, which is all very well and good. Even four through ten, now, are easy (4,5,6,7,8,9,10 are 四,五,六,七,八,九,十）. From then on Chinese is extremely systematic, using a simple combination of the digits from 1-9 with ten (two tens through nine tens, or 二十through 九十, and then a simple combination with 100 (百), and one thousand (千). For example, the number 3,846 would be written 三千八百四十六, or 'three thousand eight hundred four ten six.' The difficulty begins with 10,000, because instead of starting over after 1,000 and so grouping the powers of 10 into groups of three, Chinese has a word for 10,000 (万,another term akin to thousand, hundred, and ten) and groups the numbers ever after by fours instead of threes. So instead of saying one-hundred thousand, you have to say ten ten-thousands, and instead of one million, it's one-hundred ten thousands. And is 100,000,000 ten ten-thousands? No, a new term, 亿, is introduced. What about 1 billion then? Ten 亿, of course. It's not like they're using some other base or anything, but it's surprisingly difficult, at least for me, to quickly convert, and I can't yet understand large Chinese numbers without writing them down.
Another numerical difference is just the pronunciation of numbers in different contexts, such as in phone numbers, in dates, or in bus lines. In most cases the Chinese like to say the numbers each individually, such that bus line 82 is not eighty-two but eight two. and I was born in eight four year, not nineteen-eighty-four. This year is two zero zero seven year, not two thousand-seven. And yes, age is often asked by what year you were born, I think mainly because it lets people know your Chinese zodiac sign.
Tally marks are also not the same. At the gym today, I noticed a sheet of paper on the main desk filled with the character '正.' I had already kind of guessed, but asked about it to find that indeed they were keeping track of the number of people using the gym at various times with these 'tally marks.' Instead of drawing four lines and then crossing them like we do, they were writing a stroke of this chacter zheng, which has a total of five strokes, for each person who came in.
Hand signals for numbers are also different in different countries. I already knew that some places tend to use the thumb and idex finger to indicate 'two,' instead of the index and middle finger that I am used to. Chinese also has a system for indicating numbers greater than five, such as that putting up the thumb and pinky means six (such as when the bank teller asked me to create a six digit pin number), and putting up a hooked index finger means nine (such as in a giant advertisement for alcohol on a screen in town, because the pronunciation for the number nine is exactly the same as the pronunciation for the word 'alcohol'...but that's all a little complicated).
Finally, the last numerical difference I've noted so far is the presence of abaci/abacuses. They're not that common, but they're around -- they're sold in the store in the school supply section, and I've seen them in the bank, and in some stores to help the attendant count back change.
This is all very simple numbers and mathematics, and I am curious what kind of differences there are between higher levels and more complicated concepts. Maybe I'll be inspired sometime to ask around.
Chinese has even more numerical surprises. First of all, it uses Arabic numerals, but when numbers are 'written out,' they of course get written in Chinese. 1, 2, and 3, correspond to 一, 二 and 三, for example, which is all very well and good. Even four through ten, now, are easy (4,5,6,7,8,9,10 are 四,五,六,七,八,九,十）. From then on Chinese is extremely systematic, using a simple combination of the digits from 1-9 with ten (two tens through nine tens, or 二十through 九十, and then a simple combination with 100 (百), and one thousand (千). For example, the number 3,846 would be written 三千八百四十六, or 'three thousand eight hundred four ten six.' The difficulty begins with 10,000, because instead of starting over after 1,000 and so grouping the powers of 10 into groups of three, Chinese has a word for 10,000 (万,another term akin to thousand, hundred, and ten) and groups the numbers ever after by fours instead of threes. So instead of saying one-hundred thousand, you have to say ten ten-thousands, and instead of one million, it's one-hundred ten thousands. And is 100,000,000 ten ten-thousands? No, a new term, 亿, is introduced. What about 1 billion then? Ten 亿, of course. It's not like they're using some other base or anything, but it's surprisingly difficult, at least for me, to quickly convert, and I can't yet understand large Chinese numbers without writing them down.
Another numerical difference is just the pronunciation of numbers in different contexts, such as in phone numbers, in dates, or in bus lines. In most cases the Chinese like to say the numbers each individually, such that bus line 82 is not eighty-two but eight two. and I was born in eight four year, not nineteen-eighty-four. This year is two zero zero seven year, not two thousand-seven. And yes, age is often asked by what year you were born, I think mainly because it lets people know your Chinese zodiac sign.
Tally marks are also not the same. At the gym today, I noticed a sheet of paper on the main desk filled with the character '正.' I had already kind of guessed, but asked about it to find that indeed they were keeping track of the number of people using the gym at various times with these 'tally marks.' Instead of drawing four lines and then crossing them like we do, they were writing a stroke of this chacter zheng, which has a total of five strokes, for each person who came in.
Hand signals for numbers are also different in different countries. I already knew that some places tend to use the thumb and idex finger to indicate 'two,' instead of the index and middle finger that I am used to. Chinese also has a system for indicating numbers greater than five, such as that putting up the thumb and pinky means six (such as when the bank teller asked me to create a six digit pin number), and putting up a hooked index finger means nine (such as in a giant advertisement for alcohol on a screen in town, because the pronunciation for the number nine is exactly the same as the pronunciation for the word 'alcohol'...but that's all a little complicated).
Finally, the last numerical difference I've noted so far is the presence of abaci/abacuses. They're not that common, but they're around -- they're sold in the store in the school supply section, and I've seen them in the bank, and in some stores to help the attendant count back change.
This is all very simple numbers and mathematics, and I am curious what kind of differences there are between higher levels and more complicated concepts. Maybe I'll be inspired sometime to ask around.
Street food: fried noodles
I used to have the idea that street food was dirty and cheap and something to avoid at all costs. But in fact I'm started eating it regularly, now that I feel my stomach has mostly adjusted to Chinese microbes, and I'm becoming convinced that it's one of many alternative, tasty ways to eat in this country. Even rather upstanding Lanzhou denizens, and especially college students, enjoy it. Just outside the university gate nearest to where I live lies a street lined with carts and cooks at most hours of the day. In the morning it's filled with 'breakfast' carts - e.g., people selling steamed or fried buns, egg and scallion crepes or thicker 'pancakes', rice porridge and soy milk. Over the course of the day, the composition of the carts changes, and slowly (at least I think it's slowly, but I am still getting a handle on the operating hours of the various carts) these become replaced with carts serving up fried rice or fried noodles, dumplings, cold thick rice noodles, lamb kebabs (a bit of meat grilled on a stick), or offering grilled corn or sweet potatoes. There's also a common type of stand with many types of vegetables and meats on sticks, which you select and then get fried , spiced, and chopped up for you to fill that bread which resembles pita but is much denser than pita. These kinds of stands aren't everywhere, and there are certain intersections where they congregate and create a rather lively atmosphere and quite a lot of choice for dinner:
The noodles are in to boil.
Fellow customers
Various spices in the bowls on the left, the raw ingredients
(e.g., cabbage, beans, peppers, onions, tomatoes) in the baskets.
The chef fries the raw ingredients up with the noodles and flavors them with who knows what, though I know the ingredients include tomato paste, oil, soy sauce, and likely MSG (see video 2)
The table is set with everything I might need: the white kettle contains vinegar, the metal kettle contains 'soup' to drink, the white jar with lid has a hot pepper sauce, the blue container has single-use chopsticks, and the green bin has a roll of toilet paper serving as napkins.
My noodles arrive in a bowl covered with a clean plastic bag so that after I finish the bowl can be reused right away without washing, and if I want to take my noodles away I can easily transport them in the bag. The small bowl is my 'soup' to drink.
Sorry the videos are sideways, but I can't figure out how to rotate them. And please don't laugh at the first, the lady just happened to choose the moment I was filming to ask where I was from and to compliment my Chinese...
I guess I try to be careful to only eat at stands which look clean and where other people are eating, and eat food which has just been cooked. In any case, tonight I ate fried noodles on the street near the gym I've joined (more on that in some future post). It's pretty cold these days, and so I hesitated, listening to the nearby KFC also calling, but the prospect of those steaming hot, just cooked fried noodles drew me nearer. I ordered my small bowl and sat down, while waiting, to be served, a small bowl of 'soup' which I'm pretty sure is the water previous customers' noodles were boiled in (strangely ok...). Feeling a bit warmer, I decided to photograph the production process:
Cutting strips of dough, this lady hand-pulls my noodles
and chats with me at the same time (see video below).
Cutting strips of dough, this lady hand-pulls my noodles
The noodles are in to boil.
Fellow customers
Various spices in the bowls on the left, the raw ingredients(e.g., cabbage, beans, peppers, onions, tomatoes) in the baskets.
The chef fries the raw ingredients up with the noodles and flavors them with who knows what, though I know the ingredients include tomato paste, oil, soy sauce, and likely MSG (see video 2)
The table is set with everything I might need: the white kettle contains vinegar, the metal kettle contains 'soup' to drink, the white jar with lid has a hot pepper sauce, the blue container has single-use chopsticks, and the green bin has a roll of toilet paper serving as napkins.
My noodles arrive in a bowl covered with a clean plastic bag so that after I finish the bowl can be reused right away without washing, and if I want to take my noodles away I can easily transport them in the bag. The small bowl is my 'soup' to drink.Sorry the videos are sideways, but I can't figure out how to rotate them. And please don't laugh at the first, the lady just happened to choose the moment I was filming to ask where I was from and to compliment my Chinese...
Friday, October 19, 2007
Toilet talk
Maybe this is a gross topic, but I think it's actually interesting, and something I didn't give much thought to before I left the US. There were the automatic toilets that first appeared in Pennsylvania when I was little and especially scared my sister ;), but otherwise all toilets I'd seen looked pretty much the same, and were used the same way. I have since truly learned not to take for granted the pleasant omnipresence of bathrooms (free, clean ones at that) in the US. In at least some other countries, it is not so. From my first experience with 'female urinals' and paying for the use of public restrooms in France, to the lack of any plumbing in many places in Madagascar, I thought maybe I'd seen it all. Not so.
First, China takes the 'female urinal' - which I use to refer to a bathroom stall with no toilet, just a place to stand (or rather squat) and a built-in basin which can be flushed - to a new level. Usually in France, it was just an option alongside 'normal' toilets. Here, it's frequently the only choice. Next, you always have to bring your own toilet paper. I've gotten used to always having some in my pocket, and to squirreling away the paper napkin packs given at many restaurants for future use. What's more, you're not supposed to flush your toilet paper. To be frank, the first thing I did when I arrived in my room at the university was stuff the toilet and have to call in the janitorial staff - I didn't know you were supposed to deposit the used toilet paper in a trash bin next to the toilet. Apparently the plumbing can't take the paper. Once the bin gets full, you take it to the garbage chute yourself. Doesn't it smell? Strangely, not really. It gets emptied farely frequently.
I'm in fact quite spoiled, living where I do. I have an actual toilet, a shower with hot water, and only one roommate. Chinese students generally have shared toilets, no shower, and at least 5 roommates. They have to go to another building which has large public showers in order to bathe. I just have to wait until 6pm.
The toilets in the building where I have class are similar to what what they have in their dorms. There's basically a tiled trough sectioned off to make 'stalls' with no doors:
View walking into the women's bathroom down the hall from where I have class. There's a sink with cold water and no soap on the left, and six or so 'stalls' on the right.
Here's what the 'stalls' look like - no doors... you put one foot on either side of the 'trough' and squat... the red basket is for your toilet paper.
It's not the cleanest or most pleasant situation, but when this is what you have, you deal with it. I already don't even blink twice when confronted with a dirty, un-private, squatting bathroom. Just don't touch anything, go fast, and use your chopsticks to eat, not your hands :)
First, China takes the 'female urinal' - which I use to refer to a bathroom stall with no toilet, just a place to stand (or rather squat) and a built-in basin which can be flushed - to a new level. Usually in France, it was just an option alongside 'normal' toilets. Here, it's frequently the only choice. Next, you always have to bring your own toilet paper. I've gotten used to always having some in my pocket, and to squirreling away the paper napkin packs given at many restaurants for future use. What's more, you're not supposed to flush your toilet paper. To be frank, the first thing I did when I arrived in my room at the university was stuff the toilet and have to call in the janitorial staff - I didn't know you were supposed to deposit the used toilet paper in a trash bin next to the toilet. Apparently the plumbing can't take the paper. Once the bin gets full, you take it to the garbage chute yourself. Doesn't it smell? Strangely, not really. It gets emptied farely frequently.
I'm in fact quite spoiled, living where I do. I have an actual toilet, a shower with hot water, and only one roommate. Chinese students generally have shared toilets, no shower, and at least 5 roommates. They have to go to another building which has large public showers in order to bathe. I just have to wait until 6pm.
The toilets in the building where I have class are similar to what what they have in their dorms. There's basically a tiled trough sectioned off to make 'stalls' with no doors:
View walking into the women's bathroom down the hall from where I have class. There's a sink with cold water and no soap on the left, and six or so 'stalls' on the right.
Here's what the 'stalls' look like - no doors... you put one foot on either side of the 'trough' and squat... the red basket is for your toilet paper.It's not the cleanest or most pleasant situation, but when this is what you have, you deal with it. I already don't even blink twice when confronted with a dirty, un-private, squatting bathroom. Just don't touch anything, go fast, and use your chopsticks to eat, not your hands :)
When it rains it pours. Or, my worldy items turn to dust and back again
What I mean is, when things start going wrong, it really does seem they all do so in quick succession. Over the past two weeks, I have managed to lose the use of my phone, my computer, and my money. The good thing about blogging is that I can wait until I've sorted through everything, which is basically now. In this way, on here, everything has a happy ending though while the events are occurring it does not always feel so. I'll give away the ending first, just because I can: I've since regained all of these items (almost).
I'll start with the computer. I had heard that viruses were common in China, and my neighbor claimed to have had one attack his computer within hours of opening it in China. But for me, over a month had gone by with no problems, and I stopped thinking about it. I thought, the internet is the internet is the internet, why should it be different here? But I guess it is...
Slowly things started malfunctioning. This program would't open. That one crashed. I restarted but just got a blank screen. Each of these on it's own might just be a fluke, but put together there was a problem. Conveniently, Iluk's computer (that same neighbor) had crashed as well. One afternoon we determinedly set off to solve these problems, maybe once and for all. The first stop was the technology market, where at least a hundred different sellers had booths set up with digital and electronic items for sale, such as mp3 players, computers, cameras, and external hard drives, our target. After at least an hour of shopping around and trying to bargain the price down, I ended up with a 60G hard drive for about $6 less than the initial price I was quoted. I'm not sure it was worth that exhausting hour of my time .
Iluk was an old hat at this and found the Samsung fix-it place with no problem. I set to work transferring all my important documents to the hard drive, and he tried to explain his problems to the Samsung employees. After about an hour, I'd finished, and they were still working on his computer, so we left. Asking at several stores selling HP, we were directed to walk for several miles (or so it seemed) down a street lined to bursting with stores selling computers and shouting out with big dirty signs which models they offered. I kept getting excited to see the HP logo but no, there were still more miles to go to get to the one that would actually have a look at mine.
The HP fix-it place was full, but somebody still managed to get to work on mine right away. I figured maybe the Chinese would be experts on fixing Chinese virus problems, but they gave up quite quickly and just reset my system. At least it was free, and they even refurnished me with a version of Office when it was done (though entirely in Chinese). I asked what I could do to try to avoid viruses in the future, but my friendly technician said there was nothing to be done. Next time I could reset the computer by myself.
The next story is of my wallet. Last weekend I took a trip to Yinchuan, an 8 hour sleeper-train ride traveling northeast from Lanzhou. Yinchuan is the capital of Ningxia autonomous region, which is meant to be the region home to a Muslim Chinese ethnic groop. It turns out Yinchuan isn't really a tourist destination, and though it was nice to go somewhere other than Lanzhou, there wasn't much to see. We visited a very empty lake resort on the edge of a very small piece of desert, which looked like it would be decent fun in summer but mostly enjoyable for its off-season calmness during our visit. We ate steamed lamb dumplings, and strolled around Ningxia University. It was about this time that I noticed my wallet was gone. It can't have been more than an hour since I last used it, since which I had gotten off a bus and eaten dinner. After confirming three times that I did not have it anywhere on my person, I wailed in distress but then calmed down. It was 5:30 AM in the US, and so I called my parents with instructions about which credit cards I needed to cancel. I wasn't too concerned because I hadn't even yet been successful at using them in China (though I'd only tried a couple times).
I lost about 500 yuan. In China, that's a lot of money, and people felt quite bad for me, assuring me that not all Chinese were like that. 'There are so many Chinese people, naturally there are more Chinese thiefs too,' they said. The whole trip was a bit frustrating in this way - my friend lost/had his cell phone stolen as well, and we were lied to countless times by taxi drivers who whole-heartedly told us that there was no bus going to our desired destination, when the Rough Guide (correctly) asserted otherwise. I consoled myself by converting the amount I lost to British pounds (about £33), which I find an extremely effective strategy whenever I think I have been cheated.
I've since arranged to have most of my wallet reconstituted, meanwhile borrowing the kuai necessary to keep eating. I even had a kind of fun trip to my Chinese bank to request a new ATM card. First, I went to the branch where I'd opened my account only to find that it had disappeared overnight. It was covered in a red and blue striped tarp, apparently under total reconstructive surgery. I walked down the block to the next branch. Taking care of this type of official business in China can be very confusing. I walked in, and people were queuing up in several different lines, but I had no idea which one was appropriate to me. I asked the security guard, and he directed me to a desk on the side, which is where you seem to go first to fill out paperwork and have your ID photocopied. The attendant at this desk was particularly helpful - the form was entirely in Chinese and he helped me by writing out each of the characters I was worried I'd write wrong on a scrap piece of paper and letting me copy it to the form. It's funny how under pressure it's harder to be confident that each stroke of the character is remembered correctly.
Finally I joined a queue with my completed paperwork and photocopy. After initial confusion about whether my account could be found associated with my passport number, my visa number, or my residence permit number, I was reassured that my account had even more money in it than I had thought (must have received this month's stipend). Eight days later, I could go back and pick up my new card for a 5 yuan fee, back in business!
And last but not least, my cell phone:
I don't get a whole lot of calls/messages, but after a few days receiving nothing, I became suspicious. My roommate told me she couldn't get through. After struggling through the prompts on the China Mobile info number, I enlisted the help of a Chinese friend and she reported that i had a 144 yuan charge and so currently had been cut off from receiving calls or messages. After more discussion, it turned out that, basically, this was an additional roaming fee for using my phone in Yinchuan, and especially for using my phone from Yinchuan to call the US. If I call from Lanzhou, it's only 1.2 yuan a minute, which is not that expensive. If I call from outside Lanzhou (or maybe from outside Gansu province, still not really clear on that) it's five times that. There are all kinds of international and roaming fees that get added. Now how was I supposed to know that? So I just swallowed my frustration, paid it off and then some, and chalked it up to more money generously donated to my wallet stealer.
Finally, as of today, I can use my computer, my phone, and have the promise of being able to access my money in less than a week. Am I happier for it? I'm a little more relaxed, but otherwise about the same. One more reminder that between me and the one small suitcase I brought with me to China, those goods aren't nearly as valuable as myself and my experiences that I brought with me and will have here. All the rest is fluff and details, necessary but not so meaningful support.
I'll start with the computer. I had heard that viruses were common in China, and my neighbor claimed to have had one attack his computer within hours of opening it in China. But for me, over a month had gone by with no problems, and I stopped thinking about it. I thought, the internet is the internet is the internet, why should it be different here? But I guess it is...
Slowly things started malfunctioning. This program would't open. That one crashed. I restarted but just got a blank screen. Each of these on it's own might just be a fluke, but put together there was a problem. Conveniently, Iluk's computer (that same neighbor) had crashed as well. One afternoon we determinedly set off to solve these problems, maybe once and for all. The first stop was the technology market, where at least a hundred different sellers had booths set up with digital and electronic items for sale, such as mp3 players, computers, cameras, and external hard drives, our target. After at least an hour of shopping around and trying to bargain the price down, I ended up with a 60G hard drive for about $6 less than the initial price I was quoted. I'm not sure it was worth that exhausting hour of my time .
Iluk was an old hat at this and found the Samsung fix-it place with no problem. I set to work transferring all my important documents to the hard drive, and he tried to explain his problems to the Samsung employees. After about an hour, I'd finished, and they were still working on his computer, so we left. Asking at several stores selling HP, we were directed to walk for several miles (or so it seemed) down a street lined to bursting with stores selling computers and shouting out with big dirty signs which models they offered. I kept getting excited to see the HP logo but no, there were still more miles to go to get to the one that would actually have a look at mine.
The HP fix-it place was full, but somebody still managed to get to work on mine right away. I figured maybe the Chinese would be experts on fixing Chinese virus problems, but they gave up quite quickly and just reset my system. At least it was free, and they even refurnished me with a version of Office when it was done (though entirely in Chinese). I asked what I could do to try to avoid viruses in the future, but my friendly technician said there was nothing to be done. Next time I could reset the computer by myself.
The next story is of my wallet. Last weekend I took a trip to Yinchuan, an 8 hour sleeper-train ride traveling northeast from Lanzhou. Yinchuan is the capital of Ningxia autonomous region, which is meant to be the region home to a Muslim Chinese ethnic groop. It turns out Yinchuan isn't really a tourist destination, and though it was nice to go somewhere other than Lanzhou, there wasn't much to see. We visited a very empty lake resort on the edge of a very small piece of desert, which looked like it would be decent fun in summer but mostly enjoyable for its off-season calmness during our visit. We ate steamed lamb dumplings, and strolled around Ningxia University. It was about this time that I noticed my wallet was gone. It can't have been more than an hour since I last used it, since which I had gotten off a bus and eaten dinner. After confirming three times that I did not have it anywhere on my person, I wailed in distress but then calmed down. It was 5:30 AM in the US, and so I called my parents with instructions about which credit cards I needed to cancel. I wasn't too concerned because I hadn't even yet been successful at using them in China (though I'd only tried a couple times).
I lost about 500 yuan. In China, that's a lot of money, and people felt quite bad for me, assuring me that not all Chinese were like that. 'There are so many Chinese people, naturally there are more Chinese thiefs too,' they said. The whole trip was a bit frustrating in this way - my friend lost/had his cell phone stolen as well, and we were lied to countless times by taxi drivers who whole-heartedly told us that there was no bus going to our desired destination, when the Rough Guide (correctly) asserted otherwise. I consoled myself by converting the amount I lost to British pounds (about £33), which I find an extremely effective strategy whenever I think I have been cheated.
I've since arranged to have most of my wallet reconstituted, meanwhile borrowing the kuai necessary to keep eating. I even had a kind of fun trip to my Chinese bank to request a new ATM card. First, I went to the branch where I'd opened my account only to find that it had disappeared overnight. It was covered in a red and blue striped tarp, apparently under total reconstructive surgery. I walked down the block to the next branch. Taking care of this type of official business in China can be very confusing. I walked in, and people were queuing up in several different lines, but I had no idea which one was appropriate to me. I asked the security guard, and he directed me to a desk on the side, which is where you seem to go first to fill out paperwork and have your ID photocopied. The attendant at this desk was particularly helpful - the form was entirely in Chinese and he helped me by writing out each of the characters I was worried I'd write wrong on a scrap piece of paper and letting me copy it to the form. It's funny how under pressure it's harder to be confident that each stroke of the character is remembered correctly.
Finally I joined a queue with my completed paperwork and photocopy. After initial confusion about whether my account could be found associated with my passport number, my visa number, or my residence permit number, I was reassured that my account had even more money in it than I had thought (must have received this month's stipend). Eight days later, I could go back and pick up my new card for a 5 yuan fee, back in business!
And last but not least, my cell phone:
I don't get a whole lot of calls/messages, but after a few days receiving nothing, I became suspicious. My roommate told me she couldn't get through. After struggling through the prompts on the China Mobile info number, I enlisted the help of a Chinese friend and she reported that i had a 144 yuan charge and so currently had been cut off from receiving calls or messages. After more discussion, it turned out that, basically, this was an additional roaming fee for using my phone in Yinchuan, and especially for using my phone from Yinchuan to call the US. If I call from Lanzhou, it's only 1.2 yuan a minute, which is not that expensive. If I call from outside Lanzhou (or maybe from outside Gansu province, still not really clear on that) it's five times that. There are all kinds of international and roaming fees that get added. Now how was I supposed to know that? So I just swallowed my frustration, paid it off and then some, and chalked it up to more money generously donated to my wallet stealer.
Finally, as of today, I can use my computer, my phone, and have the promise of being able to access my money in less than a week. Am I happier for it? I'm a little more relaxed, but otherwise about the same. One more reminder that between me and the one small suitcase I brought with me to China, those goods aren't nearly as valuable as myself and my experiences that I brought with me and will have here. All the rest is fluff and details, necessary but not so meaningful support.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Black like me
Who's that girl? What girl?That's me. I dyed my hair black last week. Initially it was just for fun - Yuri wanted to dye hers brown, so I joked that we should trade. The joke turned into reality for 2-3 hours and $20 at the salon. It also turned into a surprising effect when I walked out on the street.
There aren't very many foreigners in Lanzhou. There are the students studying Chinese at the university, but even among these, a good number are Asian. There are a few foreigners teaching English in the local school systems or in private schools. There's an occasional tourist. Other than that, everyone is Chinese, and everyone has dark hair. Most are black, though some approach a dark brown, and dying brown or reddish brown is relatively common.
My friend noticed it first. "You know, Ellen, people aren't staring at you now." I had kind of stopped noticing - my adaption to being stared at was not to look at people. If I didn't see them staring at me, then they weren't, right? At the beginning it was strange, but people didn't stare in a bad way, more in a marveling way, like they couldn't get enough of seeing something unbelievable. Some days I sure got frustrated - I wanted to go out and get something to eat, or go shopping, and mind my own business while doing it. I wanted to blend in. I thought of walking on the streets of New York, where you can do anything and not get stared at. I thought of how I missed people-watching, since half the people I looked at here were already looking at me. I thought of walking in Cambridge, or pretty much anywhere else I've lived before, where I blend in so completely it's kind of a pleasure when someone notices something particular.
But my friend was right. In the few days that have passed since I dyed my hair, it is clear that the stares I get are remarkably fewer than before. I still don't blend in, and people still look, but there's no red light flashing from a mile away to say that I'm a novelty. It's only when people are close and happen to look my way that they see. I don't catch attention from the corner of an eye anymore. From the back, you can't really tell at all.
I like this change. I have wanted to try out black hair before (I've done very short-term dye before). It's not that I'm trying to be Chinese, obviously that's silly. And I dont even mind being stared at that much - I actually hope it might help people realize that foreigners aren't that foreign after all (I'm eating, shopping, walking, riding the bus, just like anybody else...). But I like this change - it relaxes my everyday life, let's me walk around that much more peacefully. It's kind of ironic how what would make me stick out more at home - having an unnatural hair color - helps me fit in here. I'm thinking about keeping it all year. What do you think?
Yuri
The switcheroo is complete
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Mountain bbq and ma jiang
This past weekend, Yuri's friend invited us along on an outing with her fourth-year accounting class at the university. To celebrate the start of the Chinese national holiday (because of which I have no class this week), they had planned a bbq on top of a mountain just outside of town. Of course this wasn't your American burgers and hot dog bbq. It was a Chinese version roasting a huge variety of things, from meat to tofu to lettuce, which we first all worked together to put on metal skewers.
Climbing Xujiashan
Preparing eggplant and potato skewers
Cutting tofu skin
Wrapping tofu skin around lettuce and skewering it just right
So that it looks like this
And this
Finished skewers of lettuce wrapped in tofu skin, plus rice cakes
Tofu and potatoes
Waiting for the coals to get hot
After dipping them in oil and various spices, including hot pepper, everyone grills at once
Most of what's on the side looks like tofu, with some rice cakes and hot-dog like meat in the center
After most of the food had been eaten, we started grilling bread and then spreading a spicy oily paste inside. The girl on the right is Yuri's friend Zhouye.
Yuri enjoying a grilled, spicy crab stick
Learning ma jiang, with the help of the guy on my right
After the meal, everyone relaxed to play games of cards and ma jiang. I can't tell you how excited I was to find out that ma jiang is basically a complicated rummy-like game. It's so nice to learn a new game/skill that you know you'll enjoy working on and getting better at for many times to come.
View of the Yellow River and power lines on the way down
Finally back at the bottom, taking a rest with Bin gui
Climbing Xujiashan
Preparing eggplant and potato skewers
Cutting tofu skin
Wrapping tofu skin around lettuce and skewering it just right
So that it looks like this
And this
Finished skewers of lettuce wrapped in tofu skin, plus rice cakes
Tofu and potatoes
Waiting for the coals to get hot
After dipping them in oil and various spices, including hot pepper, everyone grills at once
Lots of hands :)
Most of what's on the side looks like tofu, with some rice cakes and hot-dog like meat in the center
After most of the food had been eaten, we started grilling bread and then spreading a spicy oily paste inside. The girl on the right is Yuri's friend Zhouye.
Yuri enjoying a grilled, spicy crab stick
Learning ma jiang, with the help of the guy on my right
After the meal, everyone relaxed to play games of cards and ma jiang. I can't tell you how excited I was to find out that ma jiang is basically a complicated rummy-like game. It's so nice to learn a new game/skill that you know you'll enjoy working on and getting better at for many times to come.
View of the Yellow River and power lines on the way down
Finally back at the bottom, taking a rest with Bin gui
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