Wild Wild West China

A land of opportunity, where the sky is blue, the air is cool, the land is vast and green but the topography strange, where the people rush and shove and hurry from place to place. A land void of Westerners where a women leads a lonely camel by his nose down a road -- inexplicably. These were my first impressions of Guiyang City in Guizhou Province in far, southwestern China.

At this point, you may be wondering (or not, at this point, if you have been following my blog at all) what on earth would drive me to these hinterlands (look up Guiyang, Guizhou on Google Maps). Well, I'll end the suspense: the trading part of the company I'm here with brought me along to learn about purchasing contracts and to see how a ceramic sands manufacturing plant operates. Moments after landing, the manager of the ceramic sands plant we were to visit whisked my travel partner, "J," and I away to the factory to talk shop, broker a deal and walk around the the plant.

One can often judge from the airport, I have noticed (and have also had these observations confirmed by others), how many Westerners one will run into in a place here. There were more Pandas wandering around than Westerners, which is to say, none. And, giving me little hope for other Western comforts, a trip to the restroom confirmed it: all holes in the ground. I girded my belt (so to speak).

We left the airport in a Fiat with the plant manager and headed as straight as one might hope to the factory. Construction everywhere. The trip took us over hill, under dale, overpass, underpass, around lines of enormous life-sized Tonka Trunks and through the city outskirts and countryside. When we arrived at the factory, we went to the office to "discuss things." I had the privilege of listen in... to the Chinese. Which I don't speak.

Ideas ran through my mind, as I sat spinning the green flowers in my hot water (tea): I could look very attentive, "listen" along and throw in a few "haw. haw. twa twa twas" for good measure ("uh huh uh huh, ya ya ya" in Mandarin). I could also succumb to sleep for a few short minutes, but might this be rude? Or mightn't it, given that I understand nothing... I could also stare incessantly at one point on one mans face to see if he'd react but this would probably be counter productive to the business deal and thus lessen my standing as a mature intern from a prestigious masters program. So, I looked interested, drank my tea, sat demurely and waited until the next step...

At last, show and tell! A tour of the factor and... more hard hats! This time, I didn't have the nerve to ask for photo-ing of hard hat experience. But I was dying to. In any case, we walked around the factory and "J" explained things to me as we went along.

With deep respect in my heart, I tell you that this factory looked in no way like it could produce a world class product and yet, it does. The light of day visible through the ceiling, ware and tear visible on every machine and tool, soot gathered in corners, beams sagging with age, one would never guess that to open a shipment bag, one would find perfect and durable ceramic sand ready for fracturing in oil fields and able to withstand enormous pressure underground. How do they do it? Perfect and meticulous systems operations, application of the Model T factory methods and conscientious planning.

Later we drove into the city. Guiyang is poor meets high tech in a fascinating way. With billboards advertising the latest in communication: Netbooks with 3G! men trundle down the street with their mules, and the sidewalks team with street vendors who look a few shaves down the poverty scale than what I saw in Jingzhou - bonier arms, cheaper wares, scratchier and louder voices.

Guiyang the city contrasts sharply with its calm, peaceful weather. It is load and garish with blinking lights and pushy people, honking horns and incessant traffic. The city is built in the mountains, funny mountains that look like large green ant hills sprouting up here and there, which perhaps accounts for part of the city's insanity, as buildings seem sort of stacked one on the other with no room to spread out - as there is in Shanghai and Jingzhou , for example. Or, perhaps, the people are driven stark raving mad by their outrageously spicy food. But more on that in a moment...

"J" and I had dinner that night with the plant president and our driver/host, the plant manager (conversation in Chinese). They had never, evidently, dined with a Westerner or met more than one other couple of Westerners, in the case of the President. Had I photographed dinner, someone surely would have lost face, but how I wished I could have. It was straight out of someones dreams (and others nightmares) and much of it tasted delicious - particularly the spicy noodles, Peking duck and tofu soup with spicy dried bean curd. But of note, too, was the Foot of Goose - webbing and all - with its soupy, orange sauce. I tell you, if you haven't had a toe joint in your mouth, well... it's weird.

The president expressed his overwhelming joy at my eating abilities and talent for drinking Mao Tai - official Chinese liquor (the real brand, which is actually brewed there in Guiyang) to me via J. After all, I could hardly blow him away with stimulating conversation, as I sat in silence during the meal watching the giggling waitress call her friends in behind every ones' backs to stare at the Westerner, daydreaming about the conversation topics at the table, and figuring out how to eat goose toes without getting orange sauce on my cheeks. Nonetheless, the president felt sufficiently impressed by my ability to consume all things Chinese to compel him to say I was a "great international woman" and to invite me to "the Wild West of China to make..." here he rubbed his fingers together to indicate the international sign for $$$.

Bauxite anyone? That's what Guizhou's got to offer, among many other opportunities, goods, raw materials, tourist attractions, I have came to believe during my three nights there. Guiyang is a alive and producing but seems to boast much potential yet. (After all, sigh, the skies are still blue there...)

The next day we traveled out to one of the most beautiful and mystical places in the world. First we drove two hours out of the city, through countryside I could never have conceived of in my wildest imaginings. To access the waterfall, one must traverse a charming bonsai garden, bursting with life and flowers, its streams teeming with colorful fish. Then through a pathway, you come upon a natural bowl-shaped riverbed canyon and see one of the world largest waterfalls. Here you must begin the long, two hour long trek around the canyon to see one of all of the 6 angles from which it is possible to view this waterfall. The pilgrimage is long but the climax takes you behind the waterfall itself.

Of course, the government has marketed all of this to the max and it crawls with tourists. Signs that read "your soul will stir with the silence and beauty" become laughable as the only stirring I felt was to throw pushy tourists over the cliff's edge. Yet, the majestic beauty of the place still overwhelms the crowd. The imagination can still wander to times past when a lonely wanderer, like the Ming Dynasty wise-man who discovered the falls, might have stumbled upon these sights.

Have I mentioned how cheesy tourists here can be? No.. these old folks are not part of a show...

Lunch was a delicious and humble affair - my favorite. Very similar to the food of Jingzhou except this time we could pick out the pigeons the plucked and cooked for us. The smoked pork/tofu combo was to die for, I tell you - get thee to Guizhou for this dish. And the home-brewed rice wine delighted.

Now, no one let us in on this little secret, but there was more sightseeing to come! Our host just led us through some gates and mentioned something about a boat. A boat? Um, no one said any thing about a boat when I was being fed pigeon and pork and wine... A little van showed up and drove us straight up a vertical cliff (I swear). We got out, there were some guys playing cards (there are always guys playing cards...). But I was miffed - we were up on a mountain. Where was the water? The boat? Someone pointed DOWN a vertical cliff (hadn't we just come UP one?) to some stairs I was evidently supposed to descend.

Follow the leader...

At the bottom of the stairs, sure enough, was a large pool of water. A deep mountain lake, in fact. And boats sat lined up in a way that reminded me nervously of the Blue Grotto in Capri. "Where're we headed, boss? Did you know we were doing this?" "Um, no!" Came the response.

Well, my visions of the Blue Grotto weren't so off, it seems. We piled into a boat with a bunch of other Chinese tourists and headed across the 28 meter deep, cool mountain pool toward a narrow but tall crevice in the cliff-side ahead. Finally, someone felt like translating for me: that's a cavern.

It was, beyond words and imagining, the largest, most expansive cavern I never knew existed. 28 meters down from the water's surface and 138 meters high from the water's surface to the ceiling at the highest points. As we tunneled and rowed and ducked around, we saw all manner of stalactites and rock formations, which I was told were calcium rock of a sort. My mind ran to the Anne McCaffery books I obsessively read, which, if you are a fellow nerd, you will know, means that these caves were DRAGON sized. Huge. Enormous. No Blue Grotto.

As with most Chinese Adventure days, this one wouldn't end and, after encountering the last part of it, boy am I glad it didn't. The food in Guiyang, the hotpots, are even hotter than Jingzhou . We started with mutton on a stick; J, who is from near Beijing, almost couldn't handle those. Then the hotpot came, with river fish so fat and juicy and veggies (finally, broccoli!) and red spicy hot sauce. It was OUTRAGEOUS. But everyone was doing it! So I did it too! J could only eat a couple bites.. After his third can of tea to wash it down, he called it quits... Which is when something drew our attention

A family eating next to us with a particularly cute baby. He was seated on Daddy's lap and was enjoying a... super spicy mutton on a stick! He munched away like the mutton was a chew toy and sucking off all the spices, hot pepper juice spread across his cheeks and lips (he was maybe 9-months-old). SPICY BABY! But his existence begs the question, do mothers in Guizhou nurse their while swilling rice wine in between taking large bites of a chile peppers?

Guizhou is wild...

Pensive Post - Thoughts on China

There exists, perhaps, no account of "China" that is complete. No explorer, no writer, photographer travel-loguer, film maker, anthropologist, documentary maker, or sociologist can sum up this great country in terms broad or specific enough to create a picture that would fairly or rightly portray "The Middle Kingdom." Despite the pervasive image projected through the Chinese government's 1970's and '80s propaganda machine (that somehow still lives on in many Westerners' minds today), China is an outrageously diverse place - mind blowingly so - and, I dare say, always has been.

Let me offer a few points to ponder from my, albeit, limited travels in China (Shanghai, Hubei and Guizhou Provinces). The first idea I would proffer is that China is surprisingly comfortable culture-wise to Western and, in particular, American, visitors. Already, some friends have written me in response to my posts saying, "I never would have guessed China would be like that, I am fascinated..." and have said it is now on their top places to visit. Don't get me wrong, the hole-in-ground toilets, pervasive spitting, shoving, food (for some, no doubt), and other common elements to a developing country take some getting used to (especially if you are totally new to them). But the culture is, in a way, comfortable.

What do I mean by that? Well, the Chinese (that I have encountered) are totally and unassumingly individuals. Their bizarre and unique cellphone rings typify this, in a way (I have heard no repeats, yet). Whether they adhere to the culture norms of their ancestors, break custom, wear flashy colors and short shorts, spike their hair, bleach their hair, don the newest fashion (sparkles), dress like a baby doll, rock a military style, play the stay at home mom, cry at a love song (we're talking men here), shout at the top of their lungs in a cave to hear an echo, or decide to move to a city to pursue a new career and forsake their country life - everyone is marching to their own beat.Journalist James Fallows describes the Chinese as each doing their own thing until they "get caught," which is, also, a very Latin behavior and one that I am quite familiar with given my previous travels. And the individualism comes out in all kinds of ways. The implications of this culturally mean that we Americans feel a bit at home when we come to visit.. The implications of this economically mean that our American companies and entrepreneurs feel right at home when they come to stay.

This leads me to my second point. Since I am here for an internship I have had the pleasure of watching my Chinese friends work and learning from them. After a few short weeks here, I am convinced that great opportunities lie ahead for China and anyone willing to build stronger relationships here (on every level). Of course, I have met people who fit the description of the "non-creative" stereotype I have read about in books and articles - vertical thinkers, etc. The people who blow me away are those working on a shoe-string budget, factories that seemingly would produce nothing producing a stellar product, factories run like American or German factories in the hinterlands, or engineers trained in computer science who understand the whole linear and lateral workings of a dynamic, multi-layer, international corporation and their role in it. China maybe a "socialist market economy" but whatever is happening here is making things happen in a big way, beating the proverbial capitalist *butt* (so to speak, or at least getting there), as the bustling cities will testify.

The cities really, truly hum with activity. Everywhere you look, bikes zoom by, motos dangerously zigzag intersections, cars honk, pedestrians wander about, vendors peddle their wares. Everyone seems to be buying and selling. If there's an economic depression its obvious in the countrysides and present in peoples conversations - but not so in the streets of the cities. Construction is everywhere, too. When asked, people have said that only in the last year did much of the construction I see begin. Stimulus plan in action! Here's a kudos to the Chinese government for turning to a domestic need in a time when the global market slowed. If you know something about the Chinese economy, you know that dollars spent investing abroad have been dollars neglected on domestic spending (the Chinese need more roads, better roads, more bridges, etc. etc.), so this is a great and wonderful thing to see. But some will ask, who is the future for?
The one-child policy still maintains that Chinese families can only have one child (unless both parents are only children, one parent has a doctorate, or heavy fines are doled out, in which case the parents may have 2 children). It was implemented when population growth was out of control in the 1970's. But now it means that China's cities grow older, year by year. In the countryside, things are less regulated, but for cities, aging populations is a major problem. And the Chinese really do seem to want to have more kids. From speaking to my friends here, qualities I have noticed across the board are strong family values and a desire to have more children. I have heard "you are lucky in the States, that you can have such big families."

In addition to the widespread (it seems) Chinese emphasis on family and family values, another widespread phenomenon - one which is shared, in my opinion, with Italy, is a deep sense of identity with the cultural heritage of one's province, people and region's customs and food-type. This, to me, is one of the most important factors in China and makes the notion of a centrally controlled Middle Kingdom almost laughable. It also makes China a spectacular, mysterious, marvelous and intriguing place.

First of all, when you travel from place to place, people will proudly tell you why their city/province/region is important. They will tell you which of the 50+ minority groups live their. They will take you to eat the local food and hope, even if they are too polite to show they care, that you love it and will be ecstatic if you do -- telling you, maybe, that you have given them "big face." They might take you to the local tourist sights, which are frequented by hundreds of Chinese from all over the province (in my experience) who have come to learn more about their history. And the differences between the regions from North, South, East and West cannot be contained here in this tiny paragraph. The breadth and depth available for discovery lead one's imagination to wander and one's lust for discovery wild. It would be possible to spend a lifetime here and still find another magic stone with unimaginable treasures beneath it.

Lastly, I would like to point out that, from my personal experience here, I have noted that chivalry not dead. It is alive and well and in China. Women are served first. Women walk in a room first. I have been helped and assisted by men to the point of hitting my head and almost falling off a curb and inflicting other bodily harms to myself or others (one can get hurt if one isn't used to these sorts of niceties). But the manifestations of this chivalry can be quite something, too: Some stories about girlfriends go something like "well, I can't go to the river bank, that's where my first love broke my heart..."

My favorite, though, is watching men, dotted throughout a night club, break into passionate sing-along when the love songs come on. Eyes closed. Heads thrust back. Tears practically rolling down their cheeks. They are totally into every word. The girls, on the other hand, sway with slight smiles on their faces and enjoy the music. Chivalry, nor romance, my friends, is not dead in China.

And neither is the spirit of growth, learning and entrepreneurship. China marches on an interesting path. Building complexes called "Bright Future," and the like, testify to the vision many Chinese have, I think, for their country. There is a great wave rising from within this country (I don't think we have seen it yet) and the wise will ride it, in some way or another.

Plucking out your own lunch!

And boy were those suckers good...

Photo tour of weekend with Old Egg, Water Torture, Really Old Dead Guy, Drunk Baby

English: a hot commodity these days! And what Friday could be complete for an English-speaker in a foreign country with imparting a little wisdom in 40 minutes to over 8 classes packed with kids?

"I have 3 brothers..." THREE BROTHERS!!??!?!?!? "I have 15 cousins..." FIFTEEN COUSINS!!!??!?!?! "I like rock music too..." YOU DO??!!! "Sure, I like beef.." ME TOO! ME TOO!

Let me tell you, if I ever have to teach, I'll focus on rugrats. So easy to please. In fact, too easy to please. We had one near hyperventilation, pass-out case. But in the end. Great success.
Recommendation: when talking to Chinese kids, rivet with tales of copious siblings and cousins.

~~~~

Your friendly neighborhood All-Goat-Part-Restaurant bringing to you goat meat kebabs, goat jerky (as far as I could tell), goat soup with greens, goat ribs, fried goat cheese and probably other things if you have the stomach for it but I didn't see it...

Also to be enjoyed with tasty goat vittles: roast beef in gravy, mushrooms, and lotus seeds (great for taking the edge off of spicy foods).

~~~~

You've heard about it - perhaps horror stories. Maybe you've even seen it. Well now I have not only done that but I've chewed, swallowed and held it down. Yes, that's the 1000-year-old egg, folks (in photo, served Jingzhou style, with tofu and super hot pepper). First of all, it's only 40 days old, or so. And it's a duck egg. Big deal. They wrap it in clay, or something. And then they treat it. It looks a LOT grosser than it tastes, really. Mostly it just tastes super sulfer-y. Recommendation: avoid it, as a rule, but if offered, do try it (some people do like it), just for the "ick, wow, I've done it" factor.
~~~~

When it gets hot out here - and it gets HOT - men just don't wear their shirts (see blurry spy-shot at restaurant). Even men wearing business pants and dress shoes will tuck their shirts up to their nipples or just take them off and throw them over their shoulder (note: this is not all but a good many). At first it seems curious. And then you sit through a meal in what feels like 114 degree heat and it makes so much sense. Recommendation: pack light for southern Chinese summers.

~~~~

More on food. Jingzhou, a crossroads city, is known for its food, has lots of restaurants and many different types of things to eat - most of them delicious. I know something about cities like this, having recently lived in the Italian equivalent: Bologna.

I seem to have made the right friends here because they have taken me to every good place to eat you can imagine. But I won't bore you will the details. Suffice to say, I have had some smoking hot jellyfish cooked to a tender perfection and surprisingly scrumptious (trust me), some delectable crayfish, spicy enough to take your mouth and good enough to shame maybe even the Louisiana Creoles, some kickin' steak that might challenge even the Kansans and Texans I've dined with at their grilling and blackening skills, and some of the most delicious pork and (fresh) rice noodle soup that probably exists on this earth. The homemade microbrew to go along with the soup wasn't bad either.

The presentation of the food here (cucumbers carved into dragons, even on fruit plates at bars!), even when you aren't at a 4 or 5 star hotel, is awesome. It makes me feel (and perhaps I'm a total geek) a bit like I'm in a science fiction fantasy novel or movie. But I think that the food gets tastier and more fun (and edible) the less expensive it is. So. Recommendation: if you are an honored guest, find a way for your hosts to be convinced that you would actually REALLY enjoy eating local and then DO take their recommendations.

~~~~

Sightseeing. Always an adventure (in part because constant construction here creates fun obstacles and in part because the westerner often becomes the object of interest and because sometimes the visit will be interactive). At CheXi on Saturday, I learned all about one of Chinas 50+ minority tribes, heard some of the guys there yodel (yes.. yodel) and watched them dance, and learned about bamboo paper making using paper mills. I also got to try it. Is this what they mean by Chinese water torture? Recommendation: that the heavens you were born today and not 100+ years ago as a servant in CheXi who had to mill paper or grind gun powder.

~~~~

What Sunday would be complete without more massages and food? But first, I saw a 2,100-year-old corpse. Yes, that's right. And we're not talking mummies, here. He's got flesh and guts and a brain with mass, eye-balls and everything else - even limber limbs. This guy was found buried 10 meters down in the old walled Jingzhou city (maybe he was governor or something) with all his funeral regalia. Now they've got him on display in the museum in a pressurized chamber, floating in a vat of formaldehyde. Everything on display. Everything. Except for the sunken eyes and pasty flesh, he could have died 10 days ago. If it weren't so awesome it would be revolting.

At dinner I witnessed another Chinese anomaly: Drunk baby. My friend Irene and I went to a great little restaurant to eat and were just hunkering down to enjoy our bowls of soup when a one-year-old staggered, as one-year-olds are wont to do, past us calling for his "mama!" We looked up to see him parents attentively watching him, while finishing their meal. So Irene said to them, in a friendly way, something like "your baby's calling for you." And the mother said, "oh no, he's fine, just a little drunk. "What?" Irene said between translating for me, "Drunk?"

At this point I am examining the baby more closely and sure enough, his staggering is far more pronounced than it otherwise might be and his shouts for his mother (and now his grandmother, who is not, I should point, anywhere in the vicinity) are far more brutish than a one-year-old's ought to be. He's cheeks are also flushed.

The mother explains to Irene that, well, her baby likes a little beer now and again and so she obliges. The baby is still staggering around demanding his mother. The parents collect their son and put him back at the table where he sits unhappily for a few minutes before getting up to make the rounds again. Irene and I look at each other. Drunk baby.

~~~~

Lesson of the weekend: "Learning about other cultures makes your heart bigger" and maybe a little stranger.

teaching torture with tolerant teach-zilla.. happy ending!

When I sat down at my desk on Wednesday morning I heard my office mate, Frank, speaking on the phone, " *Chinese Words* Portia *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words* Portia *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words* Portia *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words*." (((Click))) "Frank," I said, "One day, sooner than you might guess, you'll do that and I'll be able to figure out what you're saying about me..." "Oh," he replied, "don't worry. It was only good things." ***long pause for dramatic effect followed by devilish grin*** "you think..." ***my smile turns to quizzical look*** "So... uhhh... what are you planning?"

Wednesday could have been a relaxing day, hang out with the Quality Control Department, learn a little, take care of some personal stuff, etc. etc. go back to the hotel, catch up on emails, sleep. But my lovely new friend had something else in mind for me. Apparently the COO of this company (the vice-Leader?) has a buddy who runs an English school and they got to talking (as the Chinese, I am learning, inevitably do) and my name came up. And well, they thought it would be a great idea for me to go and speak to the kids at the school in English about my travels.

Great. Some people are afraid of spiders, maybe some of heights, or getting quarantined by foreign communist governments. Me? I'm terrified of speaking in teaching environments to high school-aged kids. Maybe I was traumatized for life by my experience in Haiti when one of my monstrous 21-year-old eighth graders called me a racist for kicking those students out who didn't bring books to class (90% of the class). Or maybe it is the fact that I am aware that I am simply not very good at teaching and so avoid such environments... either way.............. GULP.

Frank says, "no problem, it will be easy. You just have to talk for like an hour." "An HOUR!?" "Well, maybe a half hour. Then they'll ask questions. Then we'll have dinner! Easy."

Ok, they're bribing me with food again, I'm a sucker. I'm in.

In the afternoon I'm dragged, knees almost knocking, to the school building where the tragedy that will be my first public speaking appearance in China will occur. Everyone is very nice. Jimmy, the head of the school welcomes me to his office with tea. Above his desk is a large, maybe 20x25 inch photograph of Jimmy in front of the Statue of Liberty under which is written in massive Chinese and English letters "Jimmy in America!" God, I do love the Chinese.

Very soon, too soon, I am ushered into the classroom. My heart sinks to see a teacher in the corner who looks in every way like the caricature of the anal retentive, humorless librarian-type school teacher. I pray she will disappoint.

Jimmy: "Class, this is our foreign speaker, American visitor, PORTIA!"
***followed by a barrage of compliments I won't repeat***
Class: ***mumbles hello***
Jimmy: "Say hello class!"
Class: "Hello"
***halfhearted***
me: "Hello everyone, very nice to meet you!"

I sit next to the teacher and, squaring my shoulders, I open my speech with some Chinese.. a little ice-breaker, if you will (a recommendation of a friend who is very good indeed with kids and things of these sort). The IDEA is perhaps if I look like an ass first, maybe kids won't mind so much looking like asses too when they are inevitably forced to say something to me in English by humorless teacher!

me (in Chinese): "Hello! Excuse me, I would like to ask, can you speak English? I speak a little Chinese, but badly."
***silence***
Teach-zilla: "Maybe you could speak to them in ENGLISH. They want to hear you speak English."
me: "Ahem. Well... I have now said almost EVERYTHING I know in Chinese, and I guess you all speak English very well! So let me tell you a little about who I am and why I am here in China...."

***30 rather painful but maybe successful minutes later***

Teach-zilla: "That was very interesting, wasn't it class?"
Jimmy: "Everyone needs to ask questions! Let's go around the room!"
Teach-zilla: "Yes, do you all have questions for our native American guest?" (she refers to me as the "native American guest" and not by name for the rest of the time)
***points finger at the first slump-shouldered victim***

In the course of over an hour, children of varying levels of Chinese were forced against their will to interact with me. And I, against my will, to interact with them. When the dialogue would falter, Teach-zilla would turn to me and say things like "You need to ask them questions, Chinese children won't just talk to you." And when I would try to come up with questions to ask about, say, hobbies or activities, and they wouldn't reply she would say things like "Chinese children study all the time," and look very smug, indeed.

Nonetheless and despite Teach-zilla's desperate attempts to make me look and feel as small as a mushroom, I got some awesome questions and thoughts:
one kid asked: "So, you study the economy. Why are some countries so rich and some countries so poor?"
me: "well.. that's a great question, I took a whole course that tried to answer that question and no one agreed in the end..."

***10 minute summary on course, including my opinions why***
Teach-zilla: "Well, China, you know has a socialist market economy
***long quizzical pause on my part... mmmKay, moving on...***

one asked: "do you like computer games? "one said: "i used to be a professional ping pong player, but my parents said i wasn't good so i stopped."
***moment of silence***

one kid said: "Hello, please let me introduce myself, my name is Jack. J-A-C-K. Jack. I have many hobbies, I like football and basketball and playing computer games. I am studying English and Japanese too. Thank you very much for coming in to talk to us."

one kid gave me the 2,000 year history of Jingzhou in 3 minutes.
Most of them hid behind there hands and turned bright red before saying a few things.

Jack (back for more) asked: "I want to know how you learned so many languages"
me: "well, I think the trick is you have to think like a little kid and not worry about making mistakes. Just talk and practice and not worry about what people think of you (colorful example provided of me making an ass of myself in Italy)."
Teach-zilla (in for the coup de grace): "Well, the Chinese can be a VERY intolerant people. But I am very tolerant. I do not mind if you all make mistakes, do I children?"
***silence. awkward. swallowing. coughing.***

After the Chinese hour-long (read: 1 clock hour = 2 Chinese hours) teaching (torture) session, Jimmy took six kids, Frank and myself to dinner. We had typical Jingzhou food -- fish and rice and hot pots of meat and chicken and some other things. There was a chicken foot sticking out of the chicken hot pot. Mmmmm. At dinner, lessons continued, I learned how to say "boyfriend, girlfriend, I'm full, corn juice, I'm hungry," and an assortment of random phrases in Chinese.

Part way through the meal, a plate came around with fried round things in in it. "Happy Balls!" One kid exclaimed. Excuse me? "They're called 'happy balls,'" Frank explained, "friend sweet potato." Oh goody, I thought. Sounds delicious. As I reached in, everyone watched eagerly, eyes focused on my every move. "Uh. what gives?" I asked. "They are watching you use your chopsticks," Jimmy replied. "Ooooo," I looked at my closest neighbor, "You think I can't pick up happy balls with my chopsticks?" He nodded vigorously. "Oh you just wait, I won't drop a thing." And I deftly maneuvered my chopsticks, clamped down perfectly on one happy ball and popped it into my mouth. The kids were gleeful. As was I. Fried sweet potato is delicious.

Lesson of the day: Kids say the darndest things. And I still suck at teaching..

holy rollin' frac pump!

I'm in big-kid heaven. At my new post in Jingzhou, I get to learn not only how an international corporation came into being and is operated but also how humongous oil drilling tools are manufactured. The latter means I get to hang out with engineers and play in hardhats and walk around warehouses and workshops with enormous, larger than life equipment that I only got to read about in my energy classes last year. Basically, it's like my childhood Tonka Truck toys have come to life and are moving all around me... sweet!

In order to hang out with liquid nitrogen tanks and 11 ton trucks, first you get "250 guy"(an expression in Chinese that means "stupid guy") safety training. After I was explained that I should not slip on oil, look at directly at welding, touch sharp metal objects or take flying leaps into moving machines (obviously, some people DO need this training), "the leader" (as the Chinese sometimes refer to "the boss" or the guy in charge) took me on a tour of the company workshops. When "the leader" handed me a hardhat and safety goggles, I wasn't sure the day could get any better (much giggling inside to self). But later we passed by a 12 ton cement mixing machine and my expectations were exceeded once again (much whooping inside to self).
After gazing with awe at fracturing machines, and pumps and cement mixers and huge engines, they let me play with the super-smart brain team that designs all the equipment. At first, they were a little scared of me.. well, some of them were a lot scared. It might have been the thought of having to speak English with me for a while or maybe something else? But the most terrified of them all (he turned some lovely shades of red while trying to explain a program to me) overcame his fear most admirably and mustered up the strength to ask for my phone number before I left their department. Fortunately, the truth bites: I haven't got it memorized!
The various teams taught me how fracturing equipment is designed and made, how cement mixers work, and how a pump is made. (Dad, I have been inspired to build that "Invisible Engine" you bought me back when I was 16. Set aside some time one weekend this fall!) It was a learning experience! But getting the info out of the geek-squad took a little doing. Each engineer would ask the same questions and the dialogue went something like this:

Q "Soo, um, Pah-sher (what my name sounds like in Chinese), what you study in school?"
A "Well, I did Comparative Literature for my BA. And for my MA, I am studying Economics and International Relations, with a focus on Energy and Technology in Emerging Markets."
**a confused look. perhaps, processing**
Q "So.. Um, I don't know what to tell you about (fill in name of large equipment here). What you want to know...?"
A "Well, why do you just show me how you design (fill in name of large equipment here) and how it works!"
Q "Really? You want to know that?"
A "Sure, why not?"
Q "You don't think it boring?"
A "No! I think it's fascinating"
**confused look followed by fascinating barrage of information**

And the day comes to an end with yet more lovely Chinese people and the Leader trying to kill me with more delicious Chinese food and drink. When dinner ended at 9pm, the Leader said "why don't you take this opportunity to have a rest." And I said, "well, fortunately tomorrow night I have no plans." "That's what you think," he replied with a slightly evil grin.

Lesson of the day: the word in Chinese for "engineer" and "eunuch" sound very similar (really, no joke).

big dam Chinese weekend in Jingzhou see Wall eat food!

My hosts have determined that, when not learning about big oil machine manufacturing stuff, my social life and sightseeing here in China will never end. So this weekend in Hubei Province and Jingzhou City, I learned a lot and had a great time (as you might have discerned from the Scottish-themed rodeo bar night).

what means to have big dam Chinese weekend in Jingzhou see Wall eat food?

Damn! The Chinese sure known how to build a dam! Saturday my assigned host (who signs a mean Karaoke version of Mr. Denver's "Country Road") took me to Three-Gorge-Dam. This practical project, begun by the government in 1997 to help prevent the Yangtze from flooding and to provide power to China from Shanghai to the Western provinces, has also been turned into a tourist attraction. Ah, how I adore the practicality of mind of these people. Fantastic! And who doesn't want to see REALLY big dams and humongous machinery? It's really a sight to see.



The corner stone of the dam project.

Dam!

big dam building materials.

no need for big dam building materials to go to waste... make them into an amphitheater.

all politicians should write poetry, particularly after swimming big rivers like the Yangtze like Mao did.

fishing boat from Yangtze and new equipment

• Transformers 2 is a fabulous movie when screened in Chinese! What Saturday night would be complete without dinner and a movie? One of my new friends took me with her 6-year-old daughter to see Transformers 2. Oh yes, it was dubbed and, I think, perfect that way. I hope they make the third movie in Chinese - the evil robots sound even evil-er. Strange, though, popcorn here is sweet (my dentist is going to kill me). Later we dined al fresco on a boat on the Yangtze River and a fireworks show went off in the distance.
  

• Didn't I tell you last week that Sundays are massage days? I'm going to try to keep the theme... But aside from a great massage, which was my friend's idea, we saw some really old stuff around Jingzhou City, which is a 2,000 year old city and very important to Chinese History. We went to a Buddist Pagoda built to stop the Yangtze from flooding in the 16t century. Apparently it worked and no one knows why. And we saw the Great Wall of Jingzhou that was craftily designed to keep bad guys out. Lunch was a zesty affair at a hot pot place (if you say you like spicy food here - you better mean it - the delicious seafood dish was so spicy I thought my lips would fall off). Someone needs to open a REAL Chinese restaurant in DC because I am going to miss all this business next year.

Buddhist Pagoda.

close up of the pagoda...

Buddhist carvings.. Buddha, etc.

the Buddha

hanging out.. by the old wall .

even more hanging...

the Jingzhou city walls.
Jingzhou City's Great Wall

ancient playground. ...

Lesson of the weekend: if you are offered a rest, take one.

Scottish themed rodeo techno hiphop jazz bar, DRINK UP!

I LOVE the Chinese! They positively lust for life. In fact, they are bananas for it! And I just love people who look at the world that way.

Perhaps you've never heard the culture or people described particularly this way. And maybe it isn't every breathing Chinaman. And maybe it has something to do with the double-digit growth the economy here's been recently experiencing. But how can a people who invented fireworks and who have 133,235,258,987,217 different delicious ways to eat about every kind of edible thing you can imagine (meat on a stick is one of my faves) and still take the time to carve a cucumber into the shape of a dragon and stick it on top of your lobster sushi not be called completely crazy about living?

So now I am basically in the geographic center of China in a little city call Jingzhou. It's a very important city to the history of China because it's on the Yangtze River and because of its strategic geographic location at the center. My introduction to this grand little city this weekend was sublimely absurd and solidified my growing belief in the Chinese life lust. It all began with dinner and a Scottish themed rodeo techno hip hop jazz bar.

From Shanghai to Jingzhou, door to door: 7 hours. I'm a little dead from traveling but no, my knew host will hear none of that. He said, "maybe, we have dinner, make some friends, go out to a bar!" At dinner, more female soup (the boys had something else), my first of many treasured encounters with Hubei province food (so spicy, sooooo good), AND my introduction to Chinese liquor and the expression "gam bei," (drink up).

Don't be an honored guest at a dinner table with Chinese and Chinese liquor unless you can handle the taste of Ouzo (or something like it). There's a lot of drinking to your health. Also, if you want to be impressive, learn to your chopsticks well in advance. My stick wielding skills aroused so many stares at dinner that I finally demanded applause, since they all insisted on watching so closely any way (for me to mess up, I was pretty sure.. and 'cause I'm a southpaw, which is evidently bizarre).

Following dinner, my new friends brought me to a place that came so close to heaven on this earth I thought I might have been dreaming. Pinch me, there were Chinese people running around in kilts, walls covered in flat-screens playing weird music videos and rodeos and Formula 1, projected light shows dancing to the music, cold scotch & sodas, sparklers you could play with inside (is that a fire hazard?), glowing lollipops, more dragon-carvings of fruits, and kickin' music.

Then the shows started. We went from live jazz sax played with techno pop in the background, super-speed hip hop dancers dancing to some techno version of bagpipes, and then a pop-lock dancer dancing to techno.

At some point later in the night a chick got up a did a pop cover of Shanaina Twain and a dude did a cover a "West Virginia Mountain Mama." People were screaming. Really, the greatest thing might have been every one's enthusiasm. Genuine enthusiasm. I was screaming and crying inside for joy. Only sheer mental will power got me away from that place; I was ready to make a home on the cozy benches.

If anyone wants to start a business with me...

The rest of the weekend was so delightful it deserves its own undivided attention on another post... TBC...

But for the moment, in case you aren't convinced about the life lust thing: As I sit writing in my hotel room 15 stories above the street, 50 people are gathered below dancing a square dance (I swear, it's to the beat of my folk-y music) while in the distance fireworks explode (for apparently no reason) for the third time I've seen this weekend (more about which I will write later).

Lesson of the day: Life is delicious. Drink up.