Saturday, July 30, 2005
In the cab. I need to improve my "self" photos. Damn, look how white I am. No wonder people stare.
Siddhartha, Maggie, and Ben. Just before the salt encounter and me dashing to the bathroom for a rinse!
Shanghai Entry-Exit Inspection and Quarantine Bureau PRC. Sounds intimidating doesn't it?
Medical facility for Foreigners & Overseas Chinese.
Oh, the imploded a building right in front of us while in a taxi to the metro! A little scary.
A box on the table of the restaurant that you push for Service, Water, Order, or Bill. Good idea, too bad pretty much ignored it!
CHEESE!
Last night, as posted, I was super tired, set my phone alarm (my only alarm at the moment) for about 8:15 to go to the Latina Restaurant party. Well, inevitably, I sleep right through it. I eventually wake up about 11PM. Still time for drinking! At least that's what I thought since that's normally the time I head out in NY and even then that's a little early. So I walk to 20 minutes the bar and roll in to find the place essentially empty! WTF??? Everyone, save for my classmates Ben (America) and Siddhartha (Indian, who I would later find out has got some moves on the dance floor), and about 7 2004 MBAs, and a Danish guy called Henrik. So we have some drinks and end up closing out the bar at 2am. None of us are quite in the mood to head back yet and we're debating what to do, when one of the waitresses at the bar comes over and we start talking (or attempting to anyway, as our 4 days of chinese lessons have ill prepared us for hitting on chinese girls). So we decide to go out, me thinking that we'd go to a local bar. Shockingly, I hear the girl say a string of words to the driver and recognize one, Puxi, all the way on the other side of the river! This is perhaps the equivalent of going from Jamaica, Queens to Manhattan or so.
Anyway, went to Pegasus (kind of a club/lounge). More drinks, dancing, and Siddhartha orders one last round (around 4am now). He CLAIMS to have ordered a beer but I still don't believe him because what we got was 4 shots of tequila. The Decepticons to my Transformers (robots in disguise!), the oil to my water, or the six-fingered man to my Indigo Montoya. In other words, I fucking hate it. So they also slide a long a bunch of lemon slices and what I thought was sugar (it has been THAT long since I've had tequila). Great, sugar! Something to blunt the vile liquor. I get as much sugar on that lemon as physics will allow. Gambei! (Chinese for Cheers!). I down that evil shot as quickly as possible and immediately shove the nice and sweet lemon in my mouth. A brief moment of relief. Then the realization: AAGGG! It's SALT!!!! I do not think I have ever had a look of shock like that on my face ever. OK, maybe with that fermented tofu. Not fun! Ok, you can stop laughing at me now, thanks. So close out THAT bar too and get back at 4:30am. I have about 4 hours to sleep before I have to get out to get a medical exam.
Somehow make it up, but Siddhartha, despite 10 minutes of knocking at his door is for all intensive purposes, dead. So the two Koreans and I leave around 9. The medical exam was interesting. The feeling was somewhat like being herded cattle. Change into a robe, then 8 exams, each in a different room and each with a different person. Didn't take too long but we were not allowed to have anything to eat that day. And I was hungover. Big surprise, eh? I wonder if they test for blood alcohol level...
Desparate for food, we had back to People's Square (where I was the other day at Nanjing Lu). Go to some sort of chinese restaurant in a mall (there are TONS of malls here, one after another many right next to each other). This is a shopping mecca. SooJin gets a club sandwich, I get shredded pork with bamboo shoots in oil sauce, and Kwang gets japanese curry chicen rice. What was Japanese about this, I have no clue. But the best part? It had a huge layer of cheese on top! CHEESE! I forgot how much I missed cheese. Dairy here isn't all that popular (milk is somewhat common) so it was a welcome sight.
Not quite satisfied we head to where there is supposed to be a famous dumpling house in search of the famous Shanghai dumplings (shaolongbao, or small dragon dumpling). Its a dumpling with filling but also with some soup INSIDE the dumpling. Anyway, no luck and walking on Nanjing Lu every person selling something makes a bee-line for me, but neither of my companions. A very useful phrase is "bu yao" or don't want. Although I was tempted to get my sneakers "sparkled" as in sparkling clean, I assume. But this IS China, so for all I know they could have meant glitter. We also saw the 5-star Howard Johnson!
Anyway, went to Pegasus (kind of a club/lounge). More drinks, dancing, and Siddhartha orders one last round (around 4am now). He CLAIMS to have ordered a beer but I still don't believe him because what we got was 4 shots of tequila. The Decepticons to my Transformers (robots in disguise!), the oil to my water, or the six-fingered man to my Indigo Montoya. In other words, I fucking hate it. So they also slide a long a bunch of lemon slices and what I thought was sugar (it has been THAT long since I've had tequila). Great, sugar! Something to blunt the vile liquor. I get as much sugar on that lemon as physics will allow. Gambei! (Chinese for Cheers!). I down that evil shot as quickly as possible and immediately shove the nice and sweet lemon in my mouth. A brief moment of relief. Then the realization: AAGGG! It's SALT!!!! I do not think I have ever had a look of shock like that on my face ever. OK, maybe with that fermented tofu. Not fun! Ok, you can stop laughing at me now, thanks. So close out THAT bar too and get back at 4:30am. I have about 4 hours to sleep before I have to get out to get a medical exam.
Somehow make it up, but Siddhartha, despite 10 minutes of knocking at his door is for all intensive purposes, dead. So the two Koreans and I leave around 9. The medical exam was interesting. The feeling was somewhat like being herded cattle. Change into a robe, then 8 exams, each in a different room and each with a different person. Didn't take too long but we were not allowed to have anything to eat that day. And I was hungover. Big surprise, eh? I wonder if they test for blood alcohol level...
Desparate for food, we had back to People's Square (where I was the other day at Nanjing Lu). Go to some sort of chinese restaurant in a mall (there are TONS of malls here, one after another many right next to each other). This is a shopping mecca. SooJin gets a club sandwich, I get shredded pork with bamboo shoots in oil sauce, and Kwang gets japanese curry chicen rice. What was Japanese about this, I have no clue. But the best part? It had a huge layer of cheese on top! CHEESE! I forgot how much I missed cheese. Dairy here isn't all that popular (milk is somewhat common) so it was a welcome sight.
Not quite satisfied we head to where there is supposed to be a famous dumpling house in search of the famous Shanghai dumplings (shaolongbao, or small dragon dumpling). Its a dumpling with filling but also with some soup INSIDE the dumpling. Anyway, no luck and walking on Nanjing Lu every person selling something makes a bee-line for me, but neither of my companions. A very useful phrase is "bu yao" or don't want. Although I was tempted to get my sneakers "sparkled" as in sparkling clean, I assume. But this IS China, so for all I know they could have meant glitter. We also saw the 5-star Howard Johnson!
Friday, July 29, 2005
So Tired...
It has been an exhausting week. About 6 hours of Chinese a day, except wednesday when we studied 4 thousand years of Chinese history in 4 hours! Tonight is a "mixer" at a local bar, half price beers! Going to need a nap if I'm going to not look like a zombie...
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Pearl Orient Tower. "It looks like it's about to lift off!"
Jin Mao Tower, 4th largest building in the world and the tallest hotel.
North of the Bund. The lite monument on the left was to the heroes' of the 1949 communist revolution.
The 2nd obvservation deck at 263 meters, the 1st is at 350m.
Saxophone guy on Nanjing Lu. Notice the Roman god statue. There were more of them up there, too.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Small World, Pudong, Pudong, and the Europeans
So not only have I met someone here (although prearranged) that I knew in college at Lehigh, but turns out one of my classmates went to high school with one of my best friends from Lehigh as well, in Glen Rock no less.
Just got back from Puxi (the "old" or real Shanghai, east of the Huangpu River, yes students, time to take out your maps) and the Pearl Orient Tower, the Empire State Building or Space Needle of Shanghai. We ate at the highest revolving restaurant in Asia (I know this because signs told us this several times). It was a little strange because you can't get within 100 yards of it without buying a ticket inside or getting the included buffett dinner, which we did. 180 RMB for the observation deck and buffett dinner. Not the best dinner, but after days of cafeteria food a more than welcome change!
Before the PET, a classmate, the one from high school in Glen Rock, a Korean girl, and myself went to Nanjing Lu, a pedestrian shopping street. Unfortunately, it was day time and all the bright lights were not yet on. Nonetheless, an impressive sight. And I think I had my first Shanghai prostitute experience (not that kind!). She was in looked at sweaters while I was outside watching a Chinese guy play saxophone on a balcony in German lederhosen (really! you can't make this up!) when a women approached me and started asking me questions. Where are you from, how long are you staying, what type of school are you going to (a note, i had to have her repeat each of these questions at least once). Then she beckoned her friend over and they started asking me if I wanted to work with them. Or that's what I thought. Anyway, after several attempts asking me something about working, I realized they were "working girls." Now, before my less moral friends scold me, one of them had facial hair. Once it occurred to what they were actually saying I said "bu yao" which is essentially "don't want" and perhaps one of the most useful terms you can have here. As a laowai, you definitely get far more attention from sellers than other people and they are quite aggresive. And some of the beggars have far more devious tool than I've ever seen they use to beg. Little children! Seriously! It really is tough, even for this New Yorker, to brush off children begging for money. However, when telling others of this later, apparently a significant portion of the begging "industry" is mob controlled!
And our international classmates have quickly become associated with their nationality. There are the Spaniards, the Italians, and the Germans. The former two which are habitually late! Then there are us "singles." The Indian, the Dutch guy, the Korean, the American, and me. Not sure if my classmates throw me in the American or Swedish category yet. Regardless, everyone is great and I especially love the Spanish guys' accents.
One final interesting note. Kinda of like the New York MetroCard that works on buses and the subway, they have a transport card here. But what's interesting is how fully depend on this card we are. Not only does it work on the subway, bus, ferry, AND in taxis, it is also our ROOM KEY, and basically our method of payment for all food on campus. This is something you do NOT want to lose.
Pictures to follow.
Just got back from Puxi (the "old" or real Shanghai, east of the Huangpu River, yes students, time to take out your maps) and the Pearl Orient Tower, the Empire State Building or Space Needle of Shanghai. We ate at the highest revolving restaurant in Asia (I know this because signs told us this several times). It was a little strange because you can't get within 100 yards of it without buying a ticket inside or getting the included buffett dinner, which we did. 180 RMB for the observation deck and buffett dinner. Not the best dinner, but after days of cafeteria food a more than welcome change!
Before the PET, a classmate, the one from high school in Glen Rock, a Korean girl, and myself went to Nanjing Lu, a pedestrian shopping street. Unfortunately, it was day time and all the bright lights were not yet on. Nonetheless, an impressive sight. And I think I had my first Shanghai prostitute experience (not that kind!). She was in looked at sweaters while I was outside watching a Chinese guy play saxophone on a balcony in German lederhosen (really! you can't make this up!) when a women approached me and started asking me questions. Where are you from, how long are you staying, what type of school are you going to (a note, i had to have her repeat each of these questions at least once). Then she beckoned her friend over and they started asking me if I wanted to work with them. Or that's what I thought. Anyway, after several attempts asking me something about working, I realized they were "working girls." Now, before my less moral friends scold me, one of them had facial hair. Once it occurred to what they were actually saying I said "bu yao" which is essentially "don't want" and perhaps one of the most useful terms you can have here. As a laowai, you definitely get far more attention from sellers than other people and they are quite aggresive. And some of the beggars have far more devious tool than I've ever seen they use to beg. Little children! Seriously! It really is tough, even for this New Yorker, to brush off children begging for money. However, when telling others of this later, apparently a significant portion of the begging "industry" is mob controlled!
And our international classmates have quickly become associated with their nationality. There are the Spaniards, the Italians, and the Germans. The former two which are habitually late! Then there are us "singles." The Indian, the Dutch guy, the Korean, the American, and me. Not sure if my classmates throw me in the American or Swedish category yet. Regardless, everyone is great and I especially love the Spanish guys' accents.
One final interesting note. Kinda of like the New York MetroCard that works on buses and the subway, they have a transport card here. But what's interesting is how fully depend on this card we are. Not only does it work on the subway, bus, ferry, AND in taxis, it is also our ROOM KEY, and basically our method of payment for all food on campus. This is something you do NOT want to lose.
Pictures to follow.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
I Continue Being Impressed...
By all the students here. I've met all my international students since we're in the same mandarin pre-course, but I'm still meeting my fellow chinese classmates. There is Godwin, Ross, Leonard, David, James, and several others and as far as I can tell, though they will deny this on their ancestors graves, that they speak great english. Far better than my mandarin at least, which despite 9 hours of class seems to still be limited to telling people in chinese that I can't speak mandarin!
Cafeteria Food
So, been eating the cafeteria food for the most part, with the exception of the Corn Flakes in my room and the dumplings I had with Kwang Min underneath the Carrefour on Friday. Its not bad, but they're already repeating dishes so not sure how long it will take to get bored of the menu. Basically, they serve little 3x3 inch dishes of various meats, veggies, and other assorted items. Attempted to have breakfast there this morning and unbeknowst to me, I took what looked like two little harmless off white cubes. Tofu, I assumed. And well, I was right, except I was missing one key detail. It was FERMENTED tofu and was perhaps one of the most horrid, vile, and nasty things I've ever eaten in my life. I was still tasting it hours later despite all my attempts to rid it from my forever damaged palette. My favorite so far is some sort of spicy tofu beef "chili". And I know eat spinach or bok choy everyday. My heart is doing cartwheels.
Ramada on the left. Definitely a step ahead of the Ramadas back in the US. Oh, and Howard Johnson just opened a 5-star luxury hotel here. A HO-JO!!
Street sign to CEIBS, with Ramada Hotel in the background (white building on the left).
View from my hotel room on the 11th floor of the Ramada Pudong Shanghai.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Cont'd From Below
So far behind in my postings, I may have to skip so things but I haven't so far:
Kept thinking about what movies would be on the flight back. Then I kept having to remind myself that I wasn’t coming back in the first place!
Arrived at Tokyo Narita International ahead of schedule and off that damned plane of hell. Piece of cake. Can’t say this airport is anything special, some duty free, your typical airport fare. There is this little shuttle that takes you from one part of Terminal 1 to another and is nearly completely useless as it takes you all of 100 yards. The walk would have been quicker, not to mention a more desirable option given the 13 hours of confinement I just endured. I’m now sitting at gate B72, watching some sort of frantic activity preceding a flight to Tehran via Beijing.
On a side note, I’ve only seen one surgical mask being warn so far and that was by some airport security dude. I was kinda hoping to see hordes of them.
And less than an hour before boarding, there are about 3 people including me in the B72 waiting area. Not sure if that is a good or bad sign. Perhaps we’ll be on one of those turbo props but I seriously hope not. I am, however, seated in seat B9, and I only paid for economy so that’s not the best sign as far as plane size goes.
So, this one poor guy just rolled in with like 20 pre-teen boys. So much for the one-child rule! I didn’t take long for me to have 20 Chinese kids surrounding me and looking at what I was doing on my laptop, brief pleasantries were exchanged but that’s about it. Anyway, board the flight and talked to a Chinese guy who had studied in the states and he was impressed that I was going to CEIBS, he said it was a very well known school and a great choice. Pretty much just slipped in and out of consciousness the whole flight but woke up enough for the food. Main course was some sort of steamed beef and vegetables and white rice alongside some unidentifiable Chinese vegetables and managed to save face by used my chopsticks left handed.
Finally, SHANGHAI! I passed out so I didn’t fill out any of the forms that were sitting next to me. Deplaned right onto the tarmac and then filed onto a bus, not quite what I was expecting from the brand new and modern Pudong International Airport. Then passed by some menacing looking cameras which I can only assume are some sort of facial recognition software or just a video record. Not sure which one would be the more likely use.
Cruised through customs and got some porter to help me with my bags and into a taxi. Whipped out my map that I had printed out that showed where my hotel, the Ramada Pudong Shanghai Hotel was. The cab was in really bad shape. Driver never revved it above 2k. Right out of the airport I got to see the highway interchanges that are all lit up underneath. The maglev high speed train followed the 4 lane very straight highway towards Shanghai and I noticed most of the cabs are VW Santanas, some sort of newer Chinese version of the VW Fox we have in the states.
Check into the hotel which I find out is a 4-star hotel, and I’m paying around US$70 for one night. Really nice room and the people are quite accommodating. Get into the room, hook up the computer send some emails and then crash at 9PM shortly after getting in.
Wake up Friday morning too early but am excited for the free continental breakfast but I expect to be fully disappointed as I always am at free hotel breakfasts since they generally consist of little more than some bagels, coffee, and cereal. Not here. There are two huge buffet tables with chefs taking orders for eggs and omlettes. Finally, get my things together, call my fellow classmate Julio and arrange to meet at 10:30. I decide to walk to Ceibs rather than take a taxi since it’s supposed to be close and I don’t want to see my first glimpse of Pudong through a window. Construction everywhere and I quickly identify the source of Shanghai’s smog problem; the diesel construction trucks just SPEW fumes as they roll down the road. But on the other hand, there seem to be tons of electric scooters around. As I walk I try and keep a low profile since my blue eyes and blond hair really stick out like a sore thumb, not to mention my shiny sling. I get quite a few stares. Get to CEIBS and meet Julio. He is from Spain (Madrid and Barcelona or something like that) and been in Shanghai for the past month with his Chinese wife. Lucky guy didn’t have to deal with any of the language barrier problems I was about to encounter. We go up to the MBA admissions office and try to get my affairs settled. However, there seems to be no set procedure for doing all this. One of the directors who people keep telling me to talk to is out today so I’m pretty much on my own. Attempt to check into the dorm, but unwittingly go to hotel reception instead and they are no help, they call Sunna lu, who says the dorms are full!! Um. OK. Julio also informs me that his Spanish classmates have had to buy mattresses for the dorms which I was not expecting. I’m told to come back at 3pm and one of the admissions directors will take myself and another new student to the Police Station to officially register.
Kept thinking about what movies would be on the flight back. Then I kept having to remind myself that I wasn’t coming back in the first place!
Arrived at Tokyo Narita International ahead of schedule and off that damned plane of hell. Piece of cake. Can’t say this airport is anything special, some duty free, your typical airport fare. There is this little shuttle that takes you from one part of Terminal 1 to another and is nearly completely useless as it takes you all of 100 yards. The walk would have been quicker, not to mention a more desirable option given the 13 hours of confinement I just endured. I’m now sitting at gate B72, watching some sort of frantic activity preceding a flight to Tehran via Beijing.
On a side note, I’ve only seen one surgical mask being warn so far and that was by some airport security dude. I was kinda hoping to see hordes of them.
And less than an hour before boarding, there are about 3 people including me in the B72 waiting area. Not sure if that is a good or bad sign. Perhaps we’ll be on one of those turbo props but I seriously hope not. I am, however, seated in seat B9, and I only paid for economy so that’s not the best sign as far as plane size goes.
So, this one poor guy just rolled in with like 20 pre-teen boys. So much for the one-child rule! I didn’t take long for me to have 20 Chinese kids surrounding me and looking at what I was doing on my laptop, brief pleasantries were exchanged but that’s about it. Anyway, board the flight and talked to a Chinese guy who had studied in the states and he was impressed that I was going to CEIBS, he said it was a very well known school and a great choice. Pretty much just slipped in and out of consciousness the whole flight but woke up enough for the food. Main course was some sort of steamed beef and vegetables and white rice alongside some unidentifiable Chinese vegetables and managed to save face by used my chopsticks left handed.
Finally, SHANGHAI! I passed out so I didn’t fill out any of the forms that were sitting next to me. Deplaned right onto the tarmac and then filed onto a bus, not quite what I was expecting from the brand new and modern Pudong International Airport. Then passed by some menacing looking cameras which I can only assume are some sort of facial recognition software or just a video record. Not sure which one would be the more likely use.
Cruised through customs and got some porter to help me with my bags and into a taxi. Whipped out my map that I had printed out that showed where my hotel, the Ramada Pudong Shanghai Hotel was. The cab was in really bad shape. Driver never revved it above 2k. Right out of the airport I got to see the highway interchanges that are all lit up underneath. The maglev high speed train followed the 4 lane very straight highway towards Shanghai and I noticed most of the cabs are VW Santanas, some sort of newer Chinese version of the VW Fox we have in the states.
Check into the hotel which I find out is a 4-star hotel, and I’m paying around US$70 for one night. Really nice room and the people are quite accommodating. Get into the room, hook up the computer send some emails and then crash at 9PM shortly after getting in.
Wake up Friday morning too early but am excited for the free continental breakfast but I expect to be fully disappointed as I always am at free hotel breakfasts since they generally consist of little more than some bagels, coffee, and cereal. Not here. There are two huge buffet tables with chefs taking orders for eggs and omlettes. Finally, get my things together, call my fellow classmate Julio and arrange to meet at 10:30. I decide to walk to Ceibs rather than take a taxi since it’s supposed to be close and I don’t want to see my first glimpse of Pudong through a window. Construction everywhere and I quickly identify the source of Shanghai’s smog problem; the diesel construction trucks just SPEW fumes as they roll down the road. But on the other hand, there seem to be tons of electric scooters around. As I walk I try and keep a low profile since my blue eyes and blond hair really stick out like a sore thumb, not to mention my shiny sling. I get quite a few stares. Get to CEIBS and meet Julio. He is from Spain (Madrid and Barcelona or something like that) and been in Shanghai for the past month with his Chinese wife. Lucky guy didn’t have to deal with any of the language barrier problems I was about to encounter. We go up to the MBA admissions office and try to get my affairs settled. However, there seems to be no set procedure for doing all this. One of the directors who people keep telling me to talk to is out today so I’m pretty much on my own. Attempt to check into the dorm, but unwittingly go to hotel reception instead and they are no help, they call Sunna lu, who says the dorms are full!! Um. OK. Julio also informs me that his Spanish classmates have had to buy mattresses for the dorms which I was not expecting. I’m told to come back at 3pm and one of the admissions directors will take myself and another new student to the Police Station to officially register.
My Chinese Name
Which I got today is mi xie er, which apparently translates directly as uncooked rice slanted twice. Gonna have to look into a new one!
First Chinese Course
Had the first 2.5 hour chinese lesson taught by the very nice Wang Fang. However, we did about 3 years worth of mandarin in that time. And like all languages the beginning is the hardest and most confusing. Then throw in the fact that we also have to learn the characters and this is the biggest challenge I've had in a while. Its surprising how tiring it is to speak and try and remember all this, feel like I need a nap. For most of my classmates this will be at least their 3rd language so there I'm also at a disadvantage. And met all of my pre-course classmates as well as a couple of the Chinese students taking the advanced English pre-course. Yeah, I have to remember like 30 names now, too. Tomorrow, class at 9am. This is not going to be easy.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Flight Chronicles
Somehow, I am posting this on blogspot.com from China despite everyone's assertation that I would not be able to. Perhaps its only reading blogs that is the problem. Here is my first leg of the trip, unedited!
Travel diary
Continental flight check in. The scaled used to measure the weight of my three pieces of checked luggage the previous night proved to be remarkably in tune with those used by Continental. I was fully prepared to encounter scales calibrated 10lbs in favor of Continental charging $130 for every over weight item. Turned out I had 67.5, 68.5, and 68lbs. So my entire life seems to have been compressed into approximately 200lbs of luggage. Not bad I guess, but there’s always the “There are people in Ethiopia…” argument.
Security checkpoint. Carrying my one-way ticket I expect the usual full cavity search reserved especially for one-way travelers. Any terrorist stupid enough to buy a one way ticket these days will have a long time to think about their mistake in guantanamo bay. Laptop out, shoes off, and through the metal detector which wastes no time in indicating my terrorist-tendancies by proclaiming, with a simple beep, that I have metal somewhere on my body. Turns out, I have metal on my jeans, in my wallet, in my pocket, and on my belt. And they even managed to find my contra-band green bic lighter. The bastards. However, the Lighter God to whom the TSA must sacrifice the thousands of confiscated lighters must be smiling down on someone with his butane colored face.
Boarding. With the cunning use of my sling, I manage to board the plane, seat 23F, while they are still boarding rows 45 to 33. I stared the Continental Agent of Plane Boarding in the Eye and won. I expect the usefulness of this tactic to decrease the closer I get to China.
As one could guess, it is mostly Japanese on the plane with a smattering of other ethnicities here and there Lucky for me, there is an empty seat between my self and my silent and apparently very cold Japanese row mate. He sat down and immediately wrapped himself in as many airline provided blankets as he could get his hands on. I hope to find him cocooned in a fine silk by the time we hit the Pacific Ocean. The seat between us immediately become a second storage space for both of us, each carfully considering the international protocol for unused seat space. A small de-militarized zone separates our possessions. Perhaps I can invade by Alberta.
Approximately 2pm New york time. Currently over Hudson Bay, Canada. On the overhead flight map screen we’ve traveled far more north than we have west. Not even past Chicago. Confidence in pilot’s navigations skills fading. Duty free cart rolling by, piled high with duty free liquor and cigarettes. What kind of business is that anyway? Would you like to buy a carton of cigarettes that you can’t smoke or how about a bottle of liquor that if you drink will inevitably lead to some sort of drunken outburst and a consequent visit to the Tokyo Narita Airport Drunk Tank. This is where all the duty free liquor purchasers predictably wind up. So stay far away from airline duty free solicitations. They even want exact change.
Still in the air. This flight is impossibly long. We are still eons from Japan. How did I ever get roped into this? How did I think a 13 hour flight would be a good idea? IN COACH! In fact, we’re nearing what seems to be the artic circle now. How can this possibly be the fastest way to Tokyo? Obviously, the terrorists have gotten to the cockpit and plan to make a daring low altitude fly-by of the Santa’s place on their way to making this flight as bad as possible for the passengers. It’s only about 3pm NY time now and the lights are all off as if we’re supposed to sleep. How???? You could get your 8 hours of officially recommended sleep and still be up in time to watch your 3rd movie. Diabolical planning by the flight attendant unions, I assume.
Time unkown. It is not even daytime in Tokyo, we have not even passed the midpoint of the Conintental USA. Someone, somewhere, is laughing at us very loudly.
Perhaps I didn’t mention that the longest flight I’ve bee on has been about 7 hours to Europe. That record is going to be shattered by what seems like DAYS at our current heading. The map shows our expected path as passing over the NORTH part of ALASKA. Yeah, and I know the world is round and all that but this can’t be right. I think I can squarely lay the blame on the powerful oil lobby. Forcing planes far off course in order to sell more oil and justifying it with some world wide conspiracy that the quickest way to places is actually much different that what it looks like on a map. Right. DAMN YOU EXXONMOBIL JET FUEL DIVISION!
Everyone is sleeping. Impossible. Obviously, I didn’t receive the drugged food that everyone else did. Must have been some Japanese code word you had to say in order to get the ether laced moist towelette. We are now on Loop 2 of the planes onboard entertainment system that on Loop 1 must have started 11 minutes before anyone got on, as that is how much I missed the beginning of the feature presentation of Robots starring Ewan McGregor, Halle Berry, and Robin Williams. Imho, far better than the mediocre, at best, “The Incredibles.”
My legs are filling with blood from my brain and I’m failing to remember any of the recommended exercises that you’re supposed to do in order to keep things on the up and up with my blood flow. My row mate is no help here either since he hasn’t moved since lunch. I will now attempt to watch some BBC Top Gear while also saving as much battery life as chemistry will allow. Oh, electricity is a cruel mistress.
3:30pm NYT: If I were President, I would ban all children of the age prone to crying viciously and without regard for others from all flights. And the people would love me.
“Midnight Snack” was a hamburger with American cheese and some Edy’s Ice Cream. The burger was wrapped in plastic and microwaved. Who comes up with this stuff?
11 PM NYT: This baby has been crying for 3 hours non-stop. How that is even possible is beyond me.
Travel diary
Continental flight check in. The scaled used to measure the weight of my three pieces of checked luggage the previous night proved to be remarkably in tune with those used by Continental. I was fully prepared to encounter scales calibrated 10lbs in favor of Continental charging $130 for every over weight item. Turned out I had 67.5, 68.5, and 68lbs. So my entire life seems to have been compressed into approximately 200lbs of luggage. Not bad I guess, but there’s always the “There are people in Ethiopia…” argument.
Security checkpoint. Carrying my one-way ticket I expect the usual full cavity search reserved especially for one-way travelers. Any terrorist stupid enough to buy a one way ticket these days will have a long time to think about their mistake in guantanamo bay. Laptop out, shoes off, and through the metal detector which wastes no time in indicating my terrorist-tendancies by proclaiming, with a simple beep, that I have metal somewhere on my body. Turns out, I have metal on my jeans, in my wallet, in my pocket, and on my belt. And they even managed to find my contra-band green bic lighter. The bastards. However, the Lighter God to whom the TSA must sacrifice the thousands of confiscated lighters must be smiling down on someone with his butane colored face.
Boarding. With the cunning use of my sling, I manage to board the plane, seat 23F, while they are still boarding rows 45 to 33. I stared the Continental Agent of Plane Boarding in the Eye and won. I expect the usefulness of this tactic to decrease the closer I get to China.
As one could guess, it is mostly Japanese on the plane with a smattering of other ethnicities here and there Lucky for me, there is an empty seat between my self and my silent and apparently very cold Japanese row mate. He sat down and immediately wrapped himself in as many airline provided blankets as he could get his hands on. I hope to find him cocooned in a fine silk by the time we hit the Pacific Ocean. The seat between us immediately become a second storage space for both of us, each carfully considering the international protocol for unused seat space. A small de-militarized zone separates our possessions. Perhaps I can invade by Alberta.
Approximately 2pm New york time. Currently over Hudson Bay, Canada. On the overhead flight map screen we’ve traveled far more north than we have west. Not even past Chicago. Confidence in pilot’s navigations skills fading. Duty free cart rolling by, piled high with duty free liquor and cigarettes. What kind of business is that anyway? Would you like to buy a carton of cigarettes that you can’t smoke or how about a bottle of liquor that if you drink will inevitably lead to some sort of drunken outburst and a consequent visit to the Tokyo Narita Airport Drunk Tank. This is where all the duty free liquor purchasers predictably wind up. So stay far away from airline duty free solicitations. They even want exact change.
Still in the air. This flight is impossibly long. We are still eons from Japan. How did I ever get roped into this? How did I think a 13 hour flight would be a good idea? IN COACH! In fact, we’re nearing what seems to be the artic circle now. How can this possibly be the fastest way to Tokyo? Obviously, the terrorists have gotten to the cockpit and plan to make a daring low altitude fly-by of the Santa’s place on their way to making this flight as bad as possible for the passengers. It’s only about 3pm NY time now and the lights are all off as if we’re supposed to sleep. How???? You could get your 8 hours of officially recommended sleep and still be up in time to watch your 3rd movie. Diabolical planning by the flight attendant unions, I assume.
Time unkown. It is not even daytime in Tokyo, we have not even passed the midpoint of the Conintental USA. Someone, somewhere, is laughing at us very loudly.
Perhaps I didn’t mention that the longest flight I’ve bee on has been about 7 hours to Europe. That record is going to be shattered by what seems like DAYS at our current heading. The map shows our expected path as passing over the NORTH part of ALASKA. Yeah, and I know the world is round and all that but this can’t be right. I think I can squarely lay the blame on the powerful oil lobby. Forcing planes far off course in order to sell more oil and justifying it with some world wide conspiracy that the quickest way to places is actually much different that what it looks like on a map. Right. DAMN YOU EXXONMOBIL JET FUEL DIVISION!
Everyone is sleeping. Impossible. Obviously, I didn’t receive the drugged food that everyone else did. Must have been some Japanese code word you had to say in order to get the ether laced moist towelette. We are now on Loop 2 of the planes onboard entertainment system that on Loop 1 must have started 11 minutes before anyone got on, as that is how much I missed the beginning of the feature presentation of Robots starring Ewan McGregor, Halle Berry, and Robin Williams. Imho, far better than the mediocre, at best, “The Incredibles.”
My legs are filling with blood from my brain and I’m failing to remember any of the recommended exercises that you’re supposed to do in order to keep things on the up and up with my blood flow. My row mate is no help here either since he hasn’t moved since lunch. I will now attempt to watch some BBC Top Gear while also saving as much battery life as chemistry will allow. Oh, electricity is a cruel mistress.
3:30pm NYT: If I were President, I would ban all children of the age prone to crying viciously and without regard for others from all flights. And the people would love me.
“Midnight Snack” was a hamburger with American cheese and some Edy’s Ice Cream. The burger was wrapped in plastic and microwaved. Who comes up with this stuff?
11 PM NYT: This baby has been crying for 3 hours non-stop. How that is even possible is beyond me.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Uniting China to Speak Mandarin, the One Official Language: Easier Said Than Done - New York Times
DATIAN, China - As a crowd formed around a rare foreign visitor in this town's open-air market, the conversation turned quickly from the price of dried fish and fresh fruit to how many dialects people here could muster.
Hoisting her cherubic 6-month-old daughter, Lin Jinchun, a 29-year-old dumpling seller, claimed that she could speak two, drawing a quick counterclaim of three from her mother, Lin Guimei.
What was the third dialect? someone asked. "Putonghua," the mother answered, counting the standard national language of China as if it were just another minor tongue. Meanwhile others, shouting above the din, chimed in that they could speak four, five or even six tongues.
As seen by many outsiders, China is a behemoth: the world's most populous country with a galloping economy and a more or less unified culture. But if Putonghua - Mandarin - is one of the world's most heavily spoken languages, in many parts of China it is lost in the mazes of local dialects.
Uniting China to Speak Mandarin, the One Official Language: Easier Said Than Done
Hoisting her cherubic 6-month-old daughter, Lin Jinchun, a 29-year-old dumpling seller, claimed that she could speak two, drawing a quick counterclaim of three from her mother, Lin Guimei.
What was the third dialect? someone asked. "Putonghua," the mother answered, counting the standard national language of China as if it were just another minor tongue. Meanwhile others, shouting above the din, chimed in that they could speak four, five or even six tongues.
As seen by many outsiders, China is a behemoth: the world's most populous country with a galloping economy and a more or less unified culture. But if Putonghua - Mandarin - is one of the world's most heavily spoken languages, in many parts of China it is lost in the mazes of local dialects.
Uniting China to Speak Mandarin, the One Official Language: Easier Said Than Done
A City's Traffic Plans Are Snarled by China's Car Culture - New York Times
SHANGHAI, July 9 - When officials drew up the blueprints for the redesign of this city in the early 1980's, nary a skyscraper punctuated the low-slung horizon, whose buildings mostly dated from the decades of Western control early in the last century.
The hugely ambitious plans called for Shanghai to be built anew. And among the top priorities in a city previously dominated by bicycles was avoiding the most common plagues of the automobile age - unmanageable traffic and unbearable pollution.
A City's Traffic Plans Are Snarled by China's Car Culture
The hugely ambitious plans called for Shanghai to be built anew. And among the top priorities in a city previously dominated by bicycles was avoiding the most common plagues of the automobile age - unmanageable traffic and unbearable pollution.
A City's Traffic Plans Are Snarled by China's Car Culture
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Chinese Consulate
Despite a very sketchy website, my experience at the consulate this morning was quite pleasant. More like a very effecient DMV than a consulate. I was in and out in 20 minutes and go back in 4 days for my 1 year visa (not two) and pay the $150 fee (!!!). Afterwards went to lunch with a friend of a friend from shanghai and will hook me up with his family back home. That should bring my list of contacts in shanghai up to about 12 people when I land.
In other news, my arm is still purple but lslightly less so. And my freak out level is at about a 5 on a scale of 1 to 10 at moderately freaked out. I hope I know what the hell I'm doing.
In other news, my arm is still purple but lslightly less so. And my freak out level is at about a 5 on a scale of 1 to 10 at moderately freaked out. I hope I know what the hell I'm doing.
