Amy's Braves the New World, Settles-in and Tangents without Abandon.

View of marble nook from my bedroom window.
(Thanks to Andy for my sand art.) 

    So we pick up where I left off, post cell phone trauma. I needed a proper nap when I returned home as jet lag was the worst around 4pm. FYI, China is 12 hours ahead, so it is exactly halfway around the world and exactly the opposite time here than it is in the States (if you are EST) Jet lag naps are like falling into a state of uncontrollable unconsciousness. You simply do not have a choice in the matter, but it is best if you can stay awake for as long as you can, if not you are just prolonging your symptoms more if you 'nap your way through it.' In this case, however, sleep can offer a necessary reprieve from the overwhelming sensory overload that can occur in a foreign land. I slept in a strange hard bed, with a flat pillow on an unfitted sheet (more on that later ;) and looked out an unfamiliar window. I closed my eyes and imagined I was in my Ohio bed and fell fast asleep.

Typical night time affairs in city center Jiaxing.

    Later that night, I awoke to find my self-groggy yet vertically capable so I asked a few foreign teachers if they would join me for dinner. This required me attempting to hail my first taxi. Living on what seems to be the outskirts of town there were not many taxis passing by. I say outskirts, but compared to most American standards, this would be a bustling borough.  And for the most part, people don't hail taxis in China, they order them on the Didi APP. (This is like Uber for the Chinese.)

What Didi looks like. As you can see,
 it is in English which is super helpful.
  There is, of course, Chinese versions too. 

But since I did not have a Didi account yet nor a way to understand how it worked, I was left to the devices of good ole 'grab stranger and ask for help'. I decided my best bet was to approach the men in the security booth at the entrance of my building. Its a funny thing talking to the Chinese in my community. I clearly cannot understand most of what they are saying but they keep speaking to me as if I do understand. .... I DO however appreciate anyone attempting to communicate with me, and with a deep breath and a hope for success, I approached the guards. I used my handy dandy Google app to tell them I cannot get a taxi and can they help me order one. I tell them in my broken Chinese that I cannot speak Chinese. Which is always a funny thing, because when I say this in Chinese, it is then assumed that I do speak Chinese and then it becomes a bit of a language Bermuda Triangle...

When I have to try to communicate with someone in my neighborhood, usually one of two phenomena happen. 1. We are successful in understanding each other via body language or 2. The person I am speaking with continues to speak to me in Chinese, only much louder and much more slowly. Although not necessarily helpful, it can make the encounter rather comical. I should always keep this in mind when speaking to people who clearly don't understand me. Note to self: Louder, slower not effective, ever. 

After some grumbling and uncertainty, the younger of the two guards agreed to help me. I had been given the Chinese directions of 嘉兴市  南湖区城南路汇才大厦6-1108 (which could have said "I like to wear a chicken suit on Tuesdays" for all I knew but it was apparently an address) from the foreign teachers I was to meet which was about a 15min drive from my location. Let me say here it was out of the kindness of this young man's heart that he was willing to help me as it was certainly outside of his job description as the other older security guard let me know with a series of brow furrowing and primal grunts. The other guy, however, found this to be entertaining and decided to take on the challenge! Not so long after he pushed some button on his phone he was pointing to the corner and waving me away.

So I went and stood and waited for a car to take me where I needed to go. Sure enough, within a few minutes, a car pulled up, and the Security guard came out from his booth to open the door so I could get in the Didi. The driver took me promptly to the location where the Foreign teachers were waiting and I was able to follow along on my map app on my phone to be sure we were not taking any scenic route. When we got to the location he turned and pointed out the fare due on his phone.

This is what WeChat looks like on your phone. 

This might be a good time here to explain how seamlessly technology operates in China. On your phone is an app, WeChat, (WeChat is the Facebook equivalent but it is also tied to your bank to your maps and to your life) or Alipay kind of like an easier Paypal. In many cases, it is as simple as scanning a QR code in order to complete transactions. You will pay for your taxi, your bills, your dinner, even the old lady selling fruit on the corner is harboring in her pocket technology that far surpasses the most streamlined cell phone 'square' in the states. In fact, no one swipes 'a card' or 'has cash'. They are archaic notions. I mean, why would you? You just need your phone to access  your WeChat, push a button and there you are.. on your way.... 

Meanwhile in the taxi.. Thankfully, cash still spends and while I hung in bank account-less limbo, I handed him cash for my fair. Out I slid from the taxi to magically find six other foreigner teachers waiting on the street for me. Astounding! They were all other teachers from the school. Most of whom work in the International Department. Most of the International teachers in the International Department are in fact from other nations...
Collectively, there were four Americans including myself, and two from England. (That being said, I work with English speaking people from all over the world: South Africa, Australia, Philippines, Canada... just to name a few. Truthfully, Americans are actually more of a minority in the population of foreigners at my school.)

The picture! 

I suppose my interest in being in international surroundings was peaked in my freshman year of college when I decided to join a few friends at Mackinac Island for the summer. While there, I worked with people from all over the world. It was fascinating to be surrounded by so many people from all over the planet on this tiny little fudge-filled island (really it was). But I guess even before that was my first encounter with an Asian speaking group of tourists.  I was with my youngest sister, Angie (she was oh so little then) and we were at some botanical gardens... I think Niagara Falls... Anyway, I remember out of nowhere being surrounded by a small herd of camera-toting Asian tourists. They spoke not a word of English and without warning, we were scooped up, corralled in, and propped in the middle of them all. I at first thought they wanted me to take a picture of all of them, but NO, they wanted us to be IN the picture.  We obliged and at this point, we had little choice... Serendipitously, my mom shot a picture of this event that I share here. I remember sitting there surrounded by this seeming sea of otherworldliness They spoke a different language that made different sounds, but they laughed the same, probably about the fact they had basically held us captive for this picture! They smelled different and looked different, but they smiled the same also. We couldn't understand words... but we could understand each other in feeling, in kindness, and in community. It was fascinating.

Typical Chinese Menu, what would you like for dinner?

Perhaps that is when the seed was planted for me to even consider moving to the other side of the planet, as I have found myself today. I remember hearing about teaching English in Japan in high school and I always thought 'I'd like to do that someday!" Since then I have had many conversations with people that go something like, "Well, of course, I am moving to China, I am so excited. Wouldn't you want to go?" Not all but many get this look of horror on their face and say something to the effect of, "Umm, hell no." and I am like "Really?" and they are all "Yes, really. No desire ever, to go to China."... I suppose I am just not built like everyone else and that is ok! For those that would prefer not to make the trip, you can do so hopefully vicariously through me!

Screenshot of somewhat helpful
Google Translate camera function. 

Meanwhile, on the streets of Jiaxing, we decide to attempt to have dinner. I say attempt because that is how you accomplish EVERYTHING in a foreign land. First, there is the communication barrier, then there is the make sure we are at a decent place that won't make us sick evaluation, then there is the can we tell what the heck we are ordering part of the process. A lot of restaurants come with big pictures on the wall which tell you which dishes they serve. When navigating an entirely Chinese menu. Which may look like this (see image)But again, (Thank you Google,) Google translate can help you with this too! Just simply shoot a picture of the menu in your translate app and voila! the app translates it for you. Unfortunately, most of the dishes are named things like 'Dragons Dream' or 'Happy Family' so understanding what is IN your dish is a whole other ball game. Which brings me to the last component of eating in China: open-mindedness. You just simply must resign yourself that there is a good chance you will have absolutely no idea what you are eating and there is no way around that until you put it in your mouth and find out! This had lead to mostly pleasant culinary experiences and if I don't care for something, I just don't eat it. It's that simple.

That being said, I would qualify myself as a more adventurous eater than most. I have a philosophy that I will try ANYTHING once. Among other things, I have eaten dog, things I can only refer too as squirming baby sea monsters, dried squid (trust me, its rough), and as of late, I can say that China is most definitely putting my policy to the test.

School canteen. 

Why just the other day I was in the cafeteria, (My school feeds us breakfast, lunch, and dinner five days a week. Nice, yes?) I give the food, however, a solid B+ and have been told after a few months will be over the mystery meat and hot oiled vegetables served daily. But for now it's mostly tasty, hot, accessible and FREE, so it suits me just fine.

A typical meal for me at school, chopsticks and all!

View from the third-floor canteen.

 The canteen is on the third floor and is for teachers only (hallelujah) it has some nice art on the walls, a nice view of the collide of agriculture and commerce skyline of Jiaxing and a rather big brother-esque collaged portrait of the forefathers of Peking Universtiy in Beijing.

  Sometimes I have an English speaking Chinese person with me to help me decode dishes and sometimes not, and the other day at lunch, I did not. So I was more baffled than usual as to what dishes were being served this noontime, but I grabbed the plate that seemed to be the most boneless. Also to be mentioned is the way the Chinese eat their animal/fish/fowl. One has to consider first of all, how they are coming from rather old world ways of doing things.

Awkward wonderful painting of Founding fathers of Peking University. 

As I understand it, poverty was very much the norm and for generations, they ate every part of any protein that graced their table. (Perhaps this has something to do with the concept of not wasting anything or making use of everything that is useful too.) Some of this trickled down into the food you eat today.

The whole animal is butchered and thrown in the pot. It is not rude or unusual to see people leaning over their tray to spit out bones, cartilage, or inedible fat. The simple fact is that chewing on bones in China is inevitable and with the right perspective, can be a bit of an art form! The tastiest meat is closest to the bones, so you must be mouthfully agile to extract it with grace. I am not so talented in this department yet, I usually chew on it for a while and once I got most of the meat off, I simply remove it with my hand and place it on my tray. I think to the Chinese this is quite gross, but I'm not ready to spit over my tray, yet. : )

Simply love this photograph hanging in the canteen.

So there I am in the food line. I picked one bowl with a huge hard chunk of mysteriousness in it. I think it is meat. It does not look boney and I think (foolishly), "I am getting better at selecting my portions!" I sat down next to an English Speaker teacher who was Chinese. After eating for a while, I realized my chunk was not indeed what I had thought at all. It was hard and intricate. I pointed to the ambiguous food substance. And said, "Umm, what is this?" She replied plainly "That is duck head.'  "DUCK HEAD?!!" I said with clear shock and amazement. I spun it around with my chopstick and sure enough, it was the bill of a duck roasted black in my bowl. I turned it over to see the underside. It looked almost like an obsidian seashell. "Um, how does one eat a duck head?" It was obviously too hard to chew... She replied plainly "Oh, you suck on it." "Suck on, it?" I said sheepishly. I ran through the several scenarios quickly in my mind as to how this could go and all of them ended in regret. I exhaled deeply and said, "I can't do it." " I just can't, I cannot suck on the duck head." She laughed. "Maybe later, but for now, I am simply not ready.' Well done China. You have foiled my policy!

But back to dinner (Told ya, tangent city) The restaurant they wanted to take us to was closed, so we meandered up and down the street until we found a place that seemed to cater to our limited resources of capabilities. We went in and were instructed to sit down. The woman came over and brought us tea. Tea is a given at any restaurant and should always be selected over the water, the water sadly can make you sick. I, so far, have not had any trouble, but I bathe and brush my teeth sparingly. 

The more seasoned teachers take the helm on ordering food and it is served family style in a large heated pot in the center. Quickly and as it is freshly made, the dishes began pouring out of the open kitchen. We had a large pot of seafood stew, chicken, vegetables, rice, oh it seemed as if the buffet just kept coming. Fortunately, in most cases, real Chinese food is not terribly filling this way you can eat A LOT. Everything is served family style and in generous quantities. Eating is a communal event and one must not be squeamish about delving chopsticks into bubbling pots for favored morsels! In fact, they have a belief that if you don't eat your rice you will not get full! 

But for not having many clues to what we were doing, it all worked out fine. 

Dinner at the Chinese cafe has a heat source in the middle of the table.
Food is bubbling hot throughout the meal and delicious! 

  Of course, the woman helping us was pretty much insisting on her specialties clearly, which was refreshing but can be off-putting to our bend over backward almost insincere hospitality you can experience while dining in the states. You never have any doubt what a Chinese person thinks. They will just tell you, niceties are inconveniences and a waste of time. I find it refreshing. The highlight of the evening was when the woman who was feeding us left the building only to return with a freshly slaughtered chicken; held it still fully feathered, hanging lifeless and limp by its feet. She walked it right past our table and put it directly in the fridge in the open cafe. This was rather shocking to us, but almost as a testament to just how fresh the chicken is! Part of the issue is a cultural one, We are so used to our cow looking like burgers, our pork like hot dogs, are chicken-like nuggets we forget there is a whole animal attached to it. The Chinese do not disguise their meat, they use every part of it, so I have had to get used to chicken toe claws in my bowl, hair still sticking out of the skin of the pig, and of course duck head! For those that are more conservative eaters, I can only assume you are quite revolted by now, but I must tell you that between the very edible other parts WE don't eat is deliciousness you might never know otherwise. Besides, the food is prepared well and is tasty to their culture. One could see our culture as foolishly wasteful. It's really just a matter of perspective. 

One of the impressive restaurant storefronts surrounding
the exterior of my apartment complex. 

After dinner, we discussed life in China and how abstract and surreal a career as a "Foreigner Teacher really is." We were all so different but cut from the same cloth that brought us here together now. I walked slowly with the other foreigners back to their apartment complex. They used Didi to get me a taxi and had paid for it by the time I had closed my passenger door. I magically again was brought back home. As I strolled through my apartment complex, I passed the vibrant restaurant storefronts, mothers carrying their babies for a walk and the old women synchronized dancing in the square. There was a cool, comforting breeze, and the apartments rose like giants, surrounding me safely in the darkness.

Textures and shapes are starting to become more focused. The reality of my surroundings is setting in. I think about the fact that even though I tote myself as a largely open-minded person, I realize that there are naturally occurring cultural biases in us all, even in me. And I must be extra vigilant to reserve judgment and to think about things, not the way that I do them but rather the fact that just because they don't do it the way I do it doesn't make it wrong. This is a mantra I say to myself almost daily. After all, this is why I came here, to see different, to understand different and to let different make me different too.