One of my favorite things about experiencing a new culture is seeing them have new experiences and understandings of the states and hearing these new people talk about mine.
I realized this week that my co-workers often prefer using a fork and a spoon over chopsticks. When we snack on the rice from breakfast or really any other Chinese dish, they never use chopsticks, usually a fork or spoon. We had an outing last week and while they were willing to ask for these utensils for my sake (before I even requested them myself, I figured I could go without as I'm quite competent with chopsticks), they wouldn't use them in front of each other or in public.
I guess, it is embarrassing to use them in front of your own kind. Of course, I'm blatantly American, so it's expected.
We also had the chance to dine at Riva. This is the hotel's Mediterranean Steakhouse. It is known as the best steak in Suzhou. Most of the customers are locals. Ironically, the "best steak in Suzhou" is at a Mediterranean Steakhouse that orders all their meat from Australia.
Australian meat at a Mediterranean restaurant in China.
Erin, one of the student workers, introduced a pretty cool Canadian video that hits off with a display of American politics and Christian subtexts throughout. How did she find this and I hadn't even heard of it yet?
Social networking. A micro blog.
Even in China, where neither Facebook nor Twitter legally exist, this girl is gaining access to these things through social media. It's just nuts.
Well, I thought I would share, so enjoy, "I, Pet Goat ii"
Weird, right?
Well, I've already Google a pretty comprehensive description for you. Here, you are. Yeah you're welcome:
Erin is a smart one. She's slightly more driven than the others and is vastly interested in other cultures. She is staying on past her student employment as our supervisor has agreed to give her weekends off so she can learn Spanish.
This is amazing because she not only speaks Mandarin, but really great English and learns more everyday. Most Chinese have no desire to learn a language beyond their own and English. They don't really have to, so why struggle through learning another latin language?
Just as we have a super difficult time understanding Chinese "vocal chops," they have an even harder time training their tongue for language instead of tones in the back of their throat. And I tend to slack on the tone in what little Chinese I can speak, now.
The Chinese dread languages like French and Spanish and are impressed that I am even capable of learning French. The nasal and the rolls in French and Spanish, respectively are super difficult.
Anyway.
Whenever I have an inquiry about something that requires blunt cultural courage, I ask her. She and Owen both are generally familiar with how Americans think and what I may find as strange or peculiar.
So one day I finally asked, "Why all the staring?"
Erin said because white people don't normally live in the complex, they live in much more expensive housing. She said it isn't because I look weird, it's because I really don't belong there, I belong with the other, rich, white people. All the white people here are expats, so naturally, they live farther in the city near work and the high-rent district.
Owen said because I definitely look American. He said, "chinese people really like America. When we see English or a 'may gwo' (American), we think of freedom. You have so much freedom. Even your hair, you can change it however you want, but ours will always be black, the girls can't really change the color. We can't really look that different."
Owen's words were a relief to hear that day.
The day before, Alex warned me about one of our guests. He asked if I saw the guy that looks like Benjamin Franklin with red hair.
Now, when I say red hair, I mean the color red of a fire truck. You know, that color red that you only see weird old men dye their hair.
"How could I miss him?"
Well, he was telling Hugo (the Portuguese food and beverage intern) to get while the getting was good because Chinese girls are very easy. Mind you, he was at the table with a Chinese woman. He was also calling for his waitress by shouting, "hey, sweet ass," across the restaurant.
What he lacks in tact and looks, he more than makes up for in money.
Sky asked me if he was an example of a sugar daddy- an explanation I had just given her last week - and I happily confirmed and added "gold digger" to her vocabulary to describe the different women he spent his time with.
I didn't heed Alex's warning too much as, well, I'm a snobby American that wouldn't put up with his crap. And he clearly knew that as he didn't say much to me. The girls were clearly made uncomfortable by his presence (word spreads very quickly through the girls locker room), so I took it upon myself to walk over whenever he demanded someone. He tried to be sneaky and only do this when one of the girls was nearby, but, they acted as if they didn't know English and fake-stuttered the worst English I've ever heard them speak as they said "one moment" as they came to get me.
It was hilarious.
When his German friend joined the table, he was quick to ask my nationality.
"Ah, the devil country."
Well, I have to admit that hurt and was honestly confusing, but I ignored it with a "um, sure."
His response was a question of whether or not I voted for Obama four years ago. He apologized to me and said I must be disappointed when I told him I did.
"Thank you for your condolences, but they're unnecessary, coffee or juice?"
"What part of the country are you from?"
"Memphis, TN"
"Ah, slavery."
"Actually, I guess no one sent you the telegram, but everyone has equal rights these days, except my homosexual friends, they're still waiting on theirs."
"Don't get me started on the gays. Coffee."
When I returned with his coffee (he should have thanked me for keeping it spit-free), he told me that since I'm American I probably only speak English.
I replied with, "actually I minored in French in college and speak it conversationally" (all in French).
While he was stunned with silence I decided to ask him where he was from, so I could remember who to associate with such pompous racial insensitivity. And with slightly accented French, he returned my question with another:
"Où tu pense?" (Where do you think?)
"Je ne sais pas, mais, possible, Allemagne?" (I don't know, but, maybe, Germany)
"Oui, presque la Fôret Noir." (Yes, near the Black Forest)
"Ah, maintenant je comprende pourquoi vous savez Français très bien." (Ah, now I understand why you know French so well).
The Brit looked on, lost. It was a relief to finally see that on someone else's face rather than to feel it on my own.
I decided to let it his rude and insensitive ways go until he made fun of Crishna, the 3 year old of one of our long-term guests. Crishna is an adorable boy who is mixed with gorgeously curly dark hair. When he came running down the hall to greet me with a high-five, the German commented, "Oh, here comes trouble."
A few moments later, he made another Obama crack.
"You know he's trouble when he looks just like that disappointment Obama."
"Well, good thing you're German, huh" I said with a huge smile.
"Actually I live in Singapore. Much better there, no blacks."
At this point, Benjamin Franklin chimed in with, "I hate it there. They don't have chewing gum. You can't smoke there. They fine you for jay walking and spitting, and they're always watching from the cameras. It's too bloody expensive there."
This began a debate on the pros and cons of living in Singapore: expensive and heavy on rules, but clean with high standards of living and no crime.
As for me, I was just happy to be living in a country that likes and respects America. I was suddenly grateful for my co-workers. And listening to Owen that night, I felt a little more respected and at home. Sure, they're pretty close-minded in general, but at least they aren't making me feel stupid for being an American.
They like me for it.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
The Safety Net
The crazy thing about living in a country as, well, off, as China is that it's safer here.
I know, it sounds weird.
In the wake of the Batman shootings in Colorado, I've had a few croppings of concern for safety while I'm out here. Of course, one has to remind people that these things are happening in the states. Not in China.
Those things don't happen here.
Think about it.
When was the last time you heard about something like that in China?
Sure there's supression of the media, but really, the government is the only worry.
Those Denver shootings made international news. Every person I meet here asks if I have friends or family here.
Of course, in this wave of discussion, I also have to explain different positions on gun control when I'm asked why the states allow people to have guns.
"Well, it's complicated. In essence, they will be on the black market if they are illegal and then citizens have no way of protecting themselves legally. It is one of the many issues that Americans fight about amongst each other."
It's difficult to simplify things down to a language they understand and trying to adequately represent both sides of an argument that, well, generally, I just don't care about.
There's a reason that people don't leave China. Sure, it's not my lifelong cup of tea, but I get it.
It's safe here.
They may lack a few freedoms here and there, but overall, it's not a bad trade.
Interestingly enough, my good friend Owen brought up North Korea. He said that "the people in North Korea are very happy, but that's because they don't know what is going on. They don't know anything else. They don't know how happy they could be if they had freedoms."
One of my long-term guests took a trip out to Seoul. While there, they visited the DMZ (demilitirization zone) between North and South Korea. At the south edge of North Korea there is a jiade town (a fake town), they call it "Propoganda Town," as it is a beautiful and modern town.
That no one lives in.
That's right.
No human lives there.
It's a facade.
A prop.
This should give you an idea of how "protected" the North Koreans are.
It was interesting to hear Owen say this, so I replied with, "Many countries think that, America especially."
He laughed and inserted "World Police" into the conversation.
Exactly.
We often have good intentions and so does Owen in saying that they just don't know. He's right. I asked him if he wondered if people thought the same of China.
"Sometimes," he said.
Remember how crazy it was when you first found out there was no Facebook or Twitter or even Google (by the book anyway)? I'm sure you thought the same as I did.
"How could they think this? They just don't know what real life is, it is ridiculous to be restrained like this."
But this culture doesn't see it like that.
Just like this culture doesn't produce people that run into movie theater's with semi-automatic weapons on a premiere night.
I know, it sounds weird.
In the wake of the Batman shootings in Colorado, I've had a few croppings of concern for safety while I'm out here. Of course, one has to remind people that these things are happening in the states. Not in China.
Those things don't happen here.
Think about it.
When was the last time you heard about something like that in China?
Sure there's supression of the media, but really, the government is the only worry.
Those Denver shootings made international news. Every person I meet here asks if I have friends or family here.
Of course, in this wave of discussion, I also have to explain different positions on gun control when I'm asked why the states allow people to have guns.
"Well, it's complicated. In essence, they will be on the black market if they are illegal and then citizens have no way of protecting themselves legally. It is one of the many issues that Americans fight about amongst each other."
It's difficult to simplify things down to a language they understand and trying to adequately represent both sides of an argument that, well, generally, I just don't care about.
There's a reason that people don't leave China. Sure, it's not my lifelong cup of tea, but I get it.
It's safe here.
They may lack a few freedoms here and there, but overall, it's not a bad trade.
Interestingly enough, my good friend Owen brought up North Korea. He said that "the people in North Korea are very happy, but that's because they don't know what is going on. They don't know anything else. They don't know how happy they could be if they had freedoms."
One of my long-term guests took a trip out to Seoul. While there, they visited the DMZ (demilitirization zone) between North and South Korea. At the south edge of North Korea there is a jiade town (a fake town), they call it "Propoganda Town," as it is a beautiful and modern town.
That no one lives in.
That's right.
No human lives there.
It's a facade.
A prop.
This should give you an idea of how "protected" the North Koreans are.
It was interesting to hear Owen say this, so I replied with, "Many countries think that, America especially."
He laughed and inserted "World Police" into the conversation.
Exactly.
We often have good intentions and so does Owen in saying that they just don't know. He's right. I asked him if he wondered if people thought the same of China.
"Sometimes," he said.
Remember how crazy it was when you first found out there was no Facebook or Twitter or even Google (by the book anyway)? I'm sure you thought the same as I did.
"How could they think this? They just don't know what real life is, it is ridiculous to be restrained like this."
But this culture doesn't see it like that.
Just like this culture doesn't produce people that run into movie theater's with semi-automatic weapons on a premiere night.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Club InterContinental Week 4/16
I can't believe I'm already a quarter of the way through my longest position. How weird.
This week we have added in another two student trainees.
The interesting thing about training here is that they have it each day. There is a schedule that is sent at the last week of the month for the following month. Each day a new concept is reviewed and, generally, one of the front line employees is expected to show/remind everyone else how to do this. Then everyone signs a training record form and the concept is formally in your employee file.
Whenever someone or a group of people new people are brought into the area, everyone has a meeting to review the SOP, or standard operating procedure. It is usually about an hour and I don't go because they conduct it in Chinese.
The interesting thing about my training is I am only allowed to be trained by one of the supervisors since she has the best English skills. Because of this, she always promises to hold a training session for this or that at a later date in English for me. Slowly she is coming around to training me on different things. I get it though, it is tough to train something in your foreign language and I imagine I would have to wait until not only a slow day at the hotel, but a day that hasn't been so crazy that I can't concentrate enough to lead the training in my second language.
Many of the employees also attend other training programs throughout the month (at least once week), which is why I understand why it takes three people to run the training department. These sessions are also in Chinese, so I don't attend.
I think having a formal training program like this is awesome. Not only does it help to maintain better employees, but it helps to keep them at IHG by allowing a transfer of training they've already had since it is formalized. Think of it like getting badges for your brownie girl scout sash. Having a full record looks awesome and it's something to be proud of.
We also have an outing each month to a local restaurant, which connects the team more. The girls love it because I get to try Chinese food that is much better than our cafeteria food.
This week has also afforded me the opportunity to explain and teach English slang and it all started with a
"hey neeegar, what's UP?"
The formal spelling being "Hey, niggar, what's up?"
When Owen said this as I climbed on the elevator I almost though he was speaking Chinese for a second. I mean, there was no way this kid just called me a nigga'. I told him, that technically, I'm a cracka' and went on to explain the difference and to warn him to never call a black person "nigga'," and that is reserved only for them to say that to each other.
"Yes, Owen, it applies to 'bitch,' too."
The same night, the American came out in me as I mumbled a "that's what she said" at such a perfect opportunity that I forgot that, sadly, no one around was going to hand over a high-five for catching such a good one. My apologies, but my memory has eluded the specific comment one of my co-workers made.
Well, this meant I had to explain the concept of "that's what she said," but locker room talk of boys was beyond them, they really didn't understand it.
So, I gave up, feeling like an idiot for the first time ever for saying "That's what she said."
This week we have added in another two student trainees.
The interesting thing about training here is that they have it each day. There is a schedule that is sent at the last week of the month for the following month. Each day a new concept is reviewed and, generally, one of the front line employees is expected to show/remind everyone else how to do this. Then everyone signs a training record form and the concept is formally in your employee file.
Whenever someone or a group of people new people are brought into the area, everyone has a meeting to review the SOP, or standard operating procedure. It is usually about an hour and I don't go because they conduct it in Chinese.
The interesting thing about my training is I am only allowed to be trained by one of the supervisors since she has the best English skills. Because of this, she always promises to hold a training session for this or that at a later date in English for me. Slowly she is coming around to training me on different things. I get it though, it is tough to train something in your foreign language and I imagine I would have to wait until not only a slow day at the hotel, but a day that hasn't been so crazy that I can't concentrate enough to lead the training in my second language.
Many of the employees also attend other training programs throughout the month (at least once week), which is why I understand why it takes three people to run the training department. These sessions are also in Chinese, so I don't attend.
I think having a formal training program like this is awesome. Not only does it help to maintain better employees, but it helps to keep them at IHG by allowing a transfer of training they've already had since it is formalized. Think of it like getting badges for your brownie girl scout sash. Having a full record looks awesome and it's something to be proud of.
We also have an outing each month to a local restaurant, which connects the team more. The girls love it because I get to try Chinese food that is much better than our cafeteria food.
This week has also afforded me the opportunity to explain and teach English slang and it all started with a
"hey neeegar, what's UP?"
The formal spelling being "Hey, niggar, what's up?"
When Owen said this as I climbed on the elevator I almost though he was speaking Chinese for a second. I mean, there was no way this kid just called me a nigga'. I told him, that technically, I'm a cracka' and went on to explain the difference and to warn him to never call a black person "nigga'," and that is reserved only for them to say that to each other.
"Yes, Owen, it applies to 'bitch,' too."
The same night, the American came out in me as I mumbled a "that's what she said" at such a perfect opportunity that I forgot that, sadly, no one around was going to hand over a high-five for catching such a good one. My apologies, but my memory has eluded the specific comment one of my co-workers made.
Well, this meant I had to explain the concept of "that's what she said," but locker room talk of boys was beyond them, they really didn't understand it.
So, I gave up, feeling like an idiot for the first time ever for saying "That's what she said."
Thursday, July 19, 2012
A Little Life, A Little Love
Life in Suzhou is comparable to life in Memphis, TN on many fronts.
The weather is disgustingly hot and humid to the point where I've seriously considered shaving my head. And then I remember why I usually spend my summers doing something else somewhere else with much better weather.
The people are, well, small town. Well, as small town as a population of 5.71 million can be. It's like the crowded feeling of New York with wider streets, more trees, more pollution, and the people behave like those in Memphis. Most of these people do not have a passport and will never need to get one. They rarely even travel outside of Suzhou, hardly even to Shanghai which is only 20 minutes by train.
As a result, they are kind of small-minded as I've gather both in conversations and just seeing them on the street, see previous blog posts on the staring. They also don't require much out of life to enjoy it. Their life demands and goals and far less than my own.
What can I say, I'm hard to please.
This also makes them pretty friendly, though. Even though I don't speak the language, many have shown their friendly side. This week I had to make a trip to China Post to pick up a package from the boyfriend (he sent cookies [swoon]), on the subway ride back to work I encountered a woman who had her daughter right beside her. The girl stared for a while, so I finally smiled and wave. A grin busted through her cheeks, revealing her adorably crooked and dirty teeth (they aren't really known for their oral hygiene here, spitting frequently in the streets and I'm not sure why their teeth are often so discolored, maybe all the tea without a whole lot of brushing). She squeezed out a stressed "hi" to me as if she struggled to remember the English greeting. I returned the greeting and her smile grew. I looked away, only to have my attention reverted back as she tapped my arm and her mother asked me to sit next to her. I only had one more stop, but the thing about being in public here is that, like at the hotel, I can only speak what I have come to call "Chinese English."
Chinese English is a very watered-down version of English using sentences that are preferably no longer than ten words and only using words that I would know the translation for in French.
Why in French?
Well, many of the people here have taken English since 6th grade, but stopped after high school or college (if they actually went to college), so they've forgotten most of it. So, I try and remember what my first year or so of French included and only use that in my English as that's probably all they remember, too. We all speak "Chinese English" when we first learn to speak as kids and again when we learn a foreign language. It's how you break it down and start building up.
So, "Chinese English" kept me from telling her no and I sat down next to the grinning girl and a little boy came over to practice his English as well, before I had to get up to go. It was an unbelievably sweet gesture to not only make her daughter happy, but help out a stranger in a foreign land carrying a big box.
An encounter I would probably have faced in Memphis, too.
My co-workers have taken to calling me "Sh-ow may" (pronounced with a quick "sh" and an "ow" sound like you make when you hit your funny bone and a quick ascending pitch, "may"). It means "wheat."
They absolutely love bread around here. It is hard to come by, many of the stores don't carry it and I have to go to a speciality bakery to get a loaf that doesn't have this weird milky flavor to it that they love so dearly, and we have it for every meal at the club: a loaf a breakfast, banana nut bread at high tea, and another loaf in the evening. And they save it after we take down all the food every time.
While, I'm making dibs to keep them from throwing away awesome sushi or the amazing strawberry profiteroles and chiffon cake - by the way, since my room mate has been in the pastry kitchen the last few weeks, she made sure I made friends with the other chefs who, even though they don't speak English, have taken to treating me every once in a while by surprising me with a dessert near the end of the night since my room mate told them about my dessert addiction - they're just after the loaf of bread. They won't eat the crust, though, and were appalled when I told them that the French bread is semi-crusty all the way through. "Why would you eat bread that is like stale?"
Yes, I know, dear friends.
They also thought that the cookies Nick sent were "too sweet" tasting, while Alex and I loved them. They've even asked me why we eat cheese when it smells so bad, to which I was quick to reply, "Have you smelled the food you eat? I mean really, you ate a chicken's foot yesterday in the cafeteria and everyone loved it. You had to bite around the toenails of a chicken's foot for dinner last night. Come on."
Anyway, but they think my hair color is like that of wheat. So, I'm "show may" (sorry I don't know the correct spelling in English characters). While everyone here refers to the others as their English name, I have lost my English name and am referred to by people who normally don't (well, usually can't) talk to me.
Now that I have a nick name and have answered their questions without judgement, they've taken to my personal life and also unloaded on their own.
When I was in Paris, I read the book "Eat, Pray, Love." It was an awesome book for that time in my life and, as always, better than the movie. The author, Elizabeth Gilbert, has a friend who was a psychologist and was asked to counsel female Cambodian refugees as they had just been rescued from horrific circumstances inclusive of genocide and rape. What did they talk about?
Their relationships.
Of course.
I come all the way around the world, interested in hearing what they have to say about politics, the environment, and what they want to do with their lives, but none of it interests them. They tell me instead about their asshole ex-boyfriends or this guy who clearly just wants a friend with benefits, but I had a hard time explaining what that entailed.
They're shocked that I've dated so many people (by American standards, I really haven't dated that much, stop your judging), when, at 20-25 they've only dated one or two people. They also don't really date much longer than a year before getting married.
From what I've gathered, there's not really an engagement period. And it seems that a lot of them are getting married around my age, just like many of my friends at home, but there are also many that are avoiding that path for a while, and in some cases, forever. Many have kids with their boyfriends, well, one kid, being the one-child policy and all. And a lot of my co-workers never want kids, some of those want to be married and the rest don't really care.
Being from the south, I would say that there are far more people here that don't want the marriage and kids life than those that already have it back home. Then again, things are different in the southern part of the states.
They're very inquisitive of the boyfriend and my friends.
So I have a theory that I believe I have shared before, but here it goes for review: The Disney Princess complex. This is a complex that a lot of girls tend to have that spend a lot of time at Disney growing up or are truly engulfed in the movies. As many of you may know, Asians love Disney. They're crazy about all things Disney, I think I have seen every girl I work with wear at least one Disney shirt or carry some sort of Disney accessory. I think that this, combined with the aspiration to have the "American Dream" contributes to their outlook on the normal American's life.
They think that everything, every story, is a fairy tale of sorts.
Unfortunately, the divorce rate of the American dream also seems to be following them. As a society of only children, they are having some difficulties from moving as the center of attention and the freedoms to do as they please, where they are boss and their desires are number one, to a mutual relationship. So, the dream of a fairy tale brings them together, but the realities quickly push them apart - last year over 2 million couples divorced in China. 2 million.
That's the entire population of Houston, Texas.
They always want to know how my boyfriend is and if he has sent me any letters lately or want more details on my friend's lives. And I have to follow up every story with pictures. Pictures of the people and the places I tell them about. They love the Grand Canyon pictures and told me that the Chinese characters for "America" are literally translated as "Beautiful Country" and now they know why.
I sometimes feel like I overwhelm them. In China, they have more freedom that people in the states think that they do, but a lot of times, they don't care to go out and use those freedoms. They're beginning to experience a cultural revolution of sorts ever since they opened their economy and little by little, things are changing. Still, you can tell by the look on their faces when I tell them the stories of the places I've been and the options I have for things like food choices all the way to where I want to live, it's almost too much to take in.
"Your parents really let you go to Paris and even come here for 6 months? My family would never let me do that." I guess at the end of it all, their families are just as worried about their only kid where I am one of many kids. Not that I'm unimportant, but I do also happen to be fiercely independent.
They're just used to the life they have now that they don't really have a desire to do anything else, but, then again, I don't know what they make of that after seeing their reactions to my answers to all their questions.
But even though most everyone is part of a three-person family, they're still very tied to their families and, as a close extension their communities. Not that, volunteer-of-the-year or homeroom mom type of community ties we Americans filled our time with (not that there is anything wrong with that, I happen to love it). Just basic, hanging around and enjoying another day together, type of community.
Just spending one summer evening walking around my complex and you will see it, the sense of community even within a city this large. They're just as close knit of a city as we are in Memphis. Everyone is outside as if it were a block party every night of the week, just sitting around enjoying each other's company while some kids break dance on a cardboard mat and younger ones ride bikes against the back drop of the evening sky and lit by the small local market and flames coming off the grills of the neighbors turned vendors during the night. It's after midnight and the good times keep rolling on another average Thursday night.
The weather is disgustingly hot and humid to the point where I've seriously considered shaving my head. And then I remember why I usually spend my summers doing something else somewhere else with much better weather.
The people are, well, small town. Well, as small town as a population of 5.71 million can be. It's like the crowded feeling of New York with wider streets, more trees, more pollution, and the people behave like those in Memphis. Most of these people do not have a passport and will never need to get one. They rarely even travel outside of Suzhou, hardly even to Shanghai which is only 20 minutes by train.
As a result, they are kind of small-minded as I've gather both in conversations and just seeing them on the street, see previous blog posts on the staring. They also don't require much out of life to enjoy it. Their life demands and goals and far less than my own.
What can I say, I'm hard to please.
This also makes them pretty friendly, though. Even though I don't speak the language, many have shown their friendly side. This week I had to make a trip to China Post to pick up a package from the boyfriend (he sent cookies [swoon]), on the subway ride back to work I encountered a woman who had her daughter right beside her. The girl stared for a while, so I finally smiled and wave. A grin busted through her cheeks, revealing her adorably crooked and dirty teeth (they aren't really known for their oral hygiene here, spitting frequently in the streets and I'm not sure why their teeth are often so discolored, maybe all the tea without a whole lot of brushing). She squeezed out a stressed "hi" to me as if she struggled to remember the English greeting. I returned the greeting and her smile grew. I looked away, only to have my attention reverted back as she tapped my arm and her mother asked me to sit next to her. I only had one more stop, but the thing about being in public here is that, like at the hotel, I can only speak what I have come to call "Chinese English."
Chinese English is a very watered-down version of English using sentences that are preferably no longer than ten words and only using words that I would know the translation for in French.
Why in French?
Well, many of the people here have taken English since 6th grade, but stopped after high school or college (if they actually went to college), so they've forgotten most of it. So, I try and remember what my first year or so of French included and only use that in my English as that's probably all they remember, too. We all speak "Chinese English" when we first learn to speak as kids and again when we learn a foreign language. It's how you break it down and start building up.
So, "Chinese English" kept me from telling her no and I sat down next to the grinning girl and a little boy came over to practice his English as well, before I had to get up to go. It was an unbelievably sweet gesture to not only make her daughter happy, but help out a stranger in a foreign land carrying a big box.
An encounter I would probably have faced in Memphis, too.
My co-workers have taken to calling me "Sh-ow may" (pronounced with a quick "sh" and an "ow" sound like you make when you hit your funny bone and a quick ascending pitch, "may"). It means "wheat."
They absolutely love bread around here. It is hard to come by, many of the stores don't carry it and I have to go to a speciality bakery to get a loaf that doesn't have this weird milky flavor to it that they love so dearly, and we have it for every meal at the club: a loaf a breakfast, banana nut bread at high tea, and another loaf in the evening. And they save it after we take down all the food every time.
While, I'm making dibs to keep them from throwing away awesome sushi or the amazing strawberry profiteroles and chiffon cake - by the way, since my room mate has been in the pastry kitchen the last few weeks, she made sure I made friends with the other chefs who, even though they don't speak English, have taken to treating me every once in a while by surprising me with a dessert near the end of the night since my room mate told them about my dessert addiction - they're just after the loaf of bread. They won't eat the crust, though, and were appalled when I told them that the French bread is semi-crusty all the way through. "Why would you eat bread that is like stale?"
Yes, I know, dear friends.
They also thought that the cookies Nick sent were "too sweet" tasting, while Alex and I loved them. They've even asked me why we eat cheese when it smells so bad, to which I was quick to reply, "Have you smelled the food you eat? I mean really, you ate a chicken's foot yesterday in the cafeteria and everyone loved it. You had to bite around the toenails of a chicken's foot for dinner last night. Come on."
Anyway, but they think my hair color is like that of wheat. So, I'm "show may" (sorry I don't know the correct spelling in English characters). While everyone here refers to the others as their English name, I have lost my English name and am referred to by people who normally don't (well, usually can't) talk to me.
Now that I have a nick name and have answered their questions without judgement, they've taken to my personal life and also unloaded on their own.
When I was in Paris, I read the book "Eat, Pray, Love." It was an awesome book for that time in my life and, as always, better than the movie. The author, Elizabeth Gilbert, has a friend who was a psychologist and was asked to counsel female Cambodian refugees as they had just been rescued from horrific circumstances inclusive of genocide and rape. What did they talk about?
Their relationships.
Of course.
I come all the way around the world, interested in hearing what they have to say about politics, the environment, and what they want to do with their lives, but none of it interests them. They tell me instead about their asshole ex-boyfriends or this guy who clearly just wants a friend with benefits, but I had a hard time explaining what that entailed.
They're shocked that I've dated so many people (by American standards, I really haven't dated that much, stop your judging), when, at 20-25 they've only dated one or two people. They also don't really date much longer than a year before getting married.
From what I've gathered, there's not really an engagement period. And it seems that a lot of them are getting married around my age, just like many of my friends at home, but there are also many that are avoiding that path for a while, and in some cases, forever. Many have kids with their boyfriends, well, one kid, being the one-child policy and all. And a lot of my co-workers never want kids, some of those want to be married and the rest don't really care.
Being from the south, I would say that there are far more people here that don't want the marriage and kids life than those that already have it back home. Then again, things are different in the southern part of the states.
They're very inquisitive of the boyfriend and my friends.
So I have a theory that I believe I have shared before, but here it goes for review: The Disney Princess complex. This is a complex that a lot of girls tend to have that spend a lot of time at Disney growing up or are truly engulfed in the movies. As many of you may know, Asians love Disney. They're crazy about all things Disney, I think I have seen every girl I work with wear at least one Disney shirt or carry some sort of Disney accessory. I think that this, combined with the aspiration to have the "American Dream" contributes to their outlook on the normal American's life.
They think that everything, every story, is a fairy tale of sorts.
Unfortunately, the divorce rate of the American dream also seems to be following them. As a society of only children, they are having some difficulties from moving as the center of attention and the freedoms to do as they please, where they are boss and their desires are number one, to a mutual relationship. So, the dream of a fairy tale brings them together, but the realities quickly push them apart - last year over 2 million couples divorced in China. 2 million.
That's the entire population of Houston, Texas.
They always want to know how my boyfriend is and if he has sent me any letters lately or want more details on my friend's lives. And I have to follow up every story with pictures. Pictures of the people and the places I tell them about. They love the Grand Canyon pictures and told me that the Chinese characters for "America" are literally translated as "Beautiful Country" and now they know why.
I sometimes feel like I overwhelm them. In China, they have more freedom that people in the states think that they do, but a lot of times, they don't care to go out and use those freedoms. They're beginning to experience a cultural revolution of sorts ever since they opened their economy and little by little, things are changing. Still, you can tell by the look on their faces when I tell them the stories of the places I've been and the options I have for things like food choices all the way to where I want to live, it's almost too much to take in.
"Your parents really let you go to Paris and even come here for 6 months? My family would never let me do that." I guess at the end of it all, their families are just as worried about their only kid where I am one of many kids. Not that I'm unimportant, but I do also happen to be fiercely independent.
They're just used to the life they have now that they don't really have a desire to do anything else, but, then again, I don't know what they make of that after seeing their reactions to my answers to all their questions.
But even though most everyone is part of a three-person family, they're still very tied to their families and, as a close extension their communities. Not that, volunteer-of-the-year or homeroom mom type of community ties we Americans filled our time with (not that there is anything wrong with that, I happen to love it). Just basic, hanging around and enjoying another day together, type of community.
Just spending one summer evening walking around my complex and you will see it, the sense of community even within a city this large. They're just as close knit of a city as we are in Memphis. Everyone is outside as if it were a block party every night of the week, just sitting around enjoying each other's company while some kids break dance on a cardboard mat and younger ones ride bikes against the back drop of the evening sky and lit by the small local market and flames coming off the grills of the neighbors turned vendors during the night. It's after midnight and the good times keep rolling on another average Thursday night.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Club InterContinental Week 3/16
My work week started out with an explanation that I didn't know I would be giving in China.
Ever.
One of the student workers (basically a freshman or sophomore in college doing a work assignment for one year) came up with our supervisor and said, "you know that girl time every month?"
I laughed and finished her sentence with, "What do I use?"
They smiled in agreement and I went to the only place where I knew to explain what a tampon was as they clearly did not use them here (see previous blog posts), Google.
Getting on Google is a series of steps that are much more complicated than simply opening Safari where it is my homepage. I have to type it in, duh. And then proceed to find the only English text at the top, "Gmail." If I don't click this and log in, all my results will be China (Well, Hong Kong based, being that the internet is based out of Hong Kong- they have many more freedoms in speech and the internet-so that our guests may Google and Facebook to their liking) based and also in Chinese. So I log in and jump out of my e-mail and on to that old, familiar, English-speaking friend, the Google homepage.
A quick image result brought up what I needed, along with plenty of halloween costumes that were disgustingly not what I needed. They gasped a bit when they saw just the tampon itself, but more of a puzzled gasp. Every girl will know the diagram I am talking about that I used to explain it to them, you know, the same one that you haven't seen since you were, what, 13, and rests inside the tampon box, never to be seen again.
I know you remember, don't deny it.
They caught on to the idea quickly and followed up with a lot more questions, such as, does it stay the whole time? Does it leak? Do you even use these (with a point to the napkin where I had written "Pads" just below "tampons" as a list of options we stateside ladies have)? Do you like them better than pads (imagine a stress on pronouncing "pads" here as they try to say it correctly)?
I smile as I said absolutely not, unless you want to get really sick; It does if you don't change it; And I use them when I sleep, but I know many girls that take the risk and use tampons instead; and yes, it is much more of a cleaner ordeal.
Never did I know that within a month of discovering a tampon-less world, I would be explaining what they were.
They seem to be getting bolder, since I answer every question pretty thoroughly, regardless how awkward it may be.
I can't imagine what they will ask next.
You would think that was the most awkward conversation I had that day.
It gets better.
Remember my medical exam?
I had a guest ask what that entailed, and, well, I had to tell him the whole truth. And I'm not one to sugar coat, so he was a little embarassed he asked and quickly apologized. Of course, I told him I wrote it in a blog for the world to see, because, well, I wish someone had written it in a blog for me to know what I was getting into.
Working in a country where you don't speak the language and you're all on your own is incredibly frustrating. It kind of isolates me in the work place as they talk amongst each other, so I spend a lot of time to myself enjoying the view, catching up with the world by standing by the television and stealing glances at CNN as I wait to greet guests, or go nibble on some of the awesome food.
Speaking of food, I've had 2 different fruits this week: Lychee and Longan.
Both were super water and had the taste factor of water melon, which is also super popular here.
I've also had Taro balls, which were AWESOME. Think jam-filled donut holes.
I really don't know what the jam stuff was and my coworkers didn't know how to say it in English. When I tried to Google it for a picture I realized that Taro balls are from Thailand and come in a very wide variety, so much so that I couldn't find the purple jam. So, I guess we'll never know.
Speaking of food, I've had 2 different fruits this week: Lychee and Longan.
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| Lychee |
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| Longan |
Both were super water and had the taste factor of water melon, which is also super popular here.
I've also had Taro balls, which were AWESOME. Think jam-filled donut holes.
I really don't know what the jam stuff was and my coworkers didn't know how to say it in English. When I tried to Google it for a picture I realized that Taro balls are from Thailand and come in a very wide variety, so much so that I couldn't find the purple jam. So, I guess we'll never know.
Because I'm isolated and in a totally different world, it kind of toys with your emotions. Our long-term American guests have kind of taken me in and ask how everything is going and expect bluntly honest answer. I can't lie to them, they know what it's like. One of them put it really well when he said, "I know you're a girl and you all are emotional and whatever, but you seem pretty in check with your own. All of that to say, don't forget to pay attention to your emotions here. You will start to notice this first month or two is going to be a rollercoaster, and if you aren't paying attention and accepting how you feel, you're going to lose control."
And, he was right.
This last week has been FULL of great days and horrible ones. Because I'm isolated, a lot of the value of my day goes into how my coworkers treat me. As a true-at-heart southerner, I can easily get my feelings hurt when I am not spoken to for a while or am criticized for my work. Back home, I got over this when I was working in Florida as I gained a lot of yankee friends who are, well, blunt and pretty curt. But, in this emotional rollercoaster my strength is a little weakened.
My great days include a day with 25% - 45% English, hand holding, and market runs.
When a quarter of my day is English, it's a grade 'A' day. That means that I've met cool Americans and/or my colleagues have had lots of questions or taken the time to include me in a discussion. Every employee is very close here. Since many live in the dorms, we live together, and therefore, ride together to work. As females, we also change together. Everyone, even those in HR, sales, and the managers, has a uniform and changes in the locker rooms each day from their normal clothes to the uniform.
Now think about that.
What if you got to work each day and saw your manager in their casual dress, then undergarments, before you saw them in a suit? It creates an entirely different social system in the workplace. Everyone is very close, regardless of status, and jokes and plays quite a bit amongst each other. There isn't really a "professional boundary." Don't get me wrong, everyone is polite with each other, but as Americans, we wouldn't show up to our jobs without a sense of professional presence, which is broken down before work really starts here.
A day of hand holding is also a way that makes me feel included. It's weird, but, like I said, professional standing is not the same here, and the girls touch a lot. I think that since there is only one boy working on the Club level, this pushes the touching a lot, especially when he isn't working. The girls often rub each others shoulders, or grab each others arms as if they were being escorted, or hold hands on the way to somewhere.
For someone who isn't touchy-feely, this is very, well, different, for me, but I embrace it as an attempt to bridge the huge gap.
I think I've said it before, but I've asked each of the people I work with what they like to do on their day off and the answers are the same: sleep a lot, shop, go to dinner with friends. Much like the answers of many of my American friends, but I would have never thought it would be that consistent. All of them are like that. These people LOVE shopping and sleeping. After we get off work, they always go to the family market to buy snacks or something instead of just waiting on the bus. And they will often go to the neighborhood market when we get to the complex. It's a social thing, I guess.
When they ask what I do when I'm at home, they were shocked at the long list of things I love to do when I'm off. I guess as Americans, we are pretty spoiled with our options, even if we don't have the money to actually go out. There's always a million things going on, or a fun 5K, or playing at the park, or having friends over for a movie night in. I can't imagine living a life where the only things I actually wanted to do on my day off would be shopping or sleeping.
Sidenote: Now that I've surveyed everyone at work on what they want to do on their day off, what do you want to know? Leave a comment below and don't be afraid to ask bold questions, they have been bold to me so they deserve it, ha!
Sidenote: Now that I've surveyed everyone at work on what they want to do on their day off, what do you want to know? Leave a comment below and don't be afraid to ask bold questions, they have been bold to me so they deserve it, ha!
Their work lives sort of contradict this. They are kind of lazy, taking every chance they have to sit down, but at the same time VERY particular about how their work is done. I was yelled at for cutting the lemons into slices instead of wedges. They claimed that they needed the lemon wedges for the Coronas. When I said that the only people who ordered the Coronas were Americans and we drink them with limes, not lemons, they said, well it's not like that here. By the next day, everyone had come up to me and said, so "did you ever learn to cut lemons in the U.S.?"
Well, yes I did. Did no one get the memo to stop putting lemons in the Coronas?
I decided to make a bold move and replenish a guest's Corona with a lime instead of a lemon. Someone got on to me, but were halted mid-sentence when the guest thanked me for bringing it with a lime instead of a lemon and that he didn't understand why my coworkers kept serving it with lemon.
Plus 1 for the American.
They are also particularly mindful of time. Everyone returns from lunch with 5 minutes to spare and gets to the pre-shift meetings 5 minutes before they start. I know in many cultures, translating time expectations is very different, so if you're ever in China always be at least 5 minutes early.
They rush a lot as well. I was criticized for carrying just one plate and silverware back to the kitchen when I apparently should have left the dirty plate on a side counter for all the guests to see as they pass by and wait for more dirty plates.
The club has 9 tables and there are always 4 of us working. They claim we're "busy" when 3 of the tables are occupied. In China, there is a lot of standing around at work. If you walk around, you will notice that at little drink stands and such, there are at least 2 or 3 people at the stand when easily 1 person could handle it. In America, we would only have 2 people working that club every night. One to greet and handle front desk operations for club guests and one to handle tables. Instead, it is one and three, respectively.
In essence, they will claim that I'm not saving time, but then complain about how boring the job is when they are standing there next to dirty dishes waiting on more plates to be worth walking back 10 feet to the kitchen.
They rush to be bored.
For people that dress as if the power was out, they are also very conscious of being "pretty." More so than many Americans I know. I've been asked several times why I don't wear make-up, and a very bold one even said it was a "hygiene" issue that I didn't wear make-up.
It was a bad emotional day for me as I had already been referred to as needing a "fatter" set of uniform pants earlier that day.
So I told her she would be fired for saying that where I come from and that I don't have to wear make-up for anyone.
"If you want to get anywhere in this business, you will have to learn to like it, you need to be pretty."
I wanted to remind her that I wasn't in the prostitution or modeling business, but I was quite certain she wouldn't know what those words meant. I settled for, "I think I'm doing just fine in this business without make-up, thank you."
But these comments made me realized what a warped sense of reality they have. Although, who I am to say what reality is? It makes me thankful that I live somewhere that promotes on talent and broad thinking skills not beauty or carrying the right amount of dishes.
Their petty criticisms make me feel as if they believe I am truly incompetent. They talk down to me quite a bit, but I think that's just me getting my feelings hurt and them not understanding how important emotional tone is when you're speaking to someone as well as the limited vocabulary - saying I needed a "fatter" uniform wasn't being mean, it was just using the only words they knew.
And now I realize how all of the foreign co-workers I have ever had felt. We subconsciously thought them to be a little slow and incapable of learning to drive a raft or learn the front desk program when in actuality, they were struggling first to understand the language and then the task, no matter how great their English is (just try imagining using your high school Spanish in the work place, and let's not forget their English is ten times better than your Spanish). It is such an effort to train me directly that they have to just set me loose and correct what I do wrong over time.
I'm not stupid and neither were the other people. One girl told me that I am kind of useless without one of them since I don't speak any Chinese and I needed to start learning more Chinese.
I was kind of hurt. When I was hired, I was told I wouldn't need to speak Chinese and they didn't even want me to. I wish I would have know I would have been in for this.
Then again, how many times have you encountered a mexican and been furious that they didn't speak English. I know you've thought it: "If they're going to come here they need to know OUR language and OUR rules and blah, blah, blah."
I get it, they should, but they don't. Do you even know how hard they struggled just to get to the states? Just to create a better life for themselves and their family? Why aren't we proud that we are such a great country that people risk their lives trying to have what we have?
I wouldn't have risked my life to come here. And as I begin to see a lot of immigration laws pop up in China as they begin to crack down on foreigners living and working here, I'm beginning to get a taste of what it is like for my counterparts in the states. To feel unwanted even though I came here so that I may have a better job and a better life (not permanently in China, but down the road after this experience).
Don't get me wrong, it isn't near as intense as it is in the states, but the next time you decide to get angry at the foreign workers that make sure your hotel room is well-cleaned and that are paid minimum wage so that you can have a great deal on the hotel, have a little compassion. They aren't stealing our jobs, that is, unless you or your college-educated kids are going to clean hotel rooms for, God forbid, minimum wage, so that the hotels can maintain a competitive rate.
The next time you push to exclude them from the same freedoms and inclusiveness in the "American Dream" that you were only lucky to be born into, please remember this post.
I know a lot of my fellow southerners are Republicans and anti-immigration, and also happen to be avid church goers, so if your good friend Madison being in that situation doesn't stir any love for those people, then I will hand over a little Jesus lesson for you from 1 Corinthians 8:12:
When you sin against your brothers in this way and wound their weak conscience, you sin against Christ.
Monday, July 9, 2012
A Blerp on Running, the Utilities, and the Oddity of Customs in China
Running has even more perks in China than it does in the states.
I loved running Paris because after getting lost enough, you start to figure out your way around. Here, being a much newer city (well, at least the side of the city I live on), everything is on a basic grid. It clears my head, yet fills it with a sense of familiarty of my surroundings.
It is also helping with my energy bill. Our hot water heater is a little box on the wall that makes a horrible sound whenever I am using hot water. If I have the shower on hot, my water pressure is significantly reduced. If I've just come back from a run, I need a cold shower, which means more water pressure, less electricity heating water, and a shorter shower since I can get shampoo and conditioner out of my hair in a decent amount of time. Not that Grace and I are stressing our energy bill, we got the bill last week (which she had to carry to work and ask someone to read it to her, again she can't read Chinese even though she speaks it fluently) and we didn't even use half of our allocated amount. This is awesome news not only because I don't have to pay, but also because the temperature and humidity have risen so much in the last few weeks I can't handle sleeping without the air conditioner anymore. So keep your fingers crossed that I don't have to pay next month.
Not having a phone has really made me question my motivation in running. Sure, I've used many a running sessions to listen to a CD for the first time without interruption or distraction, but sometimes, I've wondered if I would even run without music. If I could even focus on one solitary thing.
Just run.
Embrace all that is around you and don't block anything out.
It's nice to hear things.
And when it rains, I don't stress about getting a phone wet, I breathe in and enjoy it (and probably all the pollutants it brings, too!).
Although, I will say, whlie I miss my music, and being able to Google at the palm of my hand at work, and text people, but the thing I'm most agitated about is the clock.
Not really the clock (I have a watch), but the alarm and the timer.
Grace let me borrow her alarm clock, which is an analog clock that you have to turn to set (I'm always paranoid that it isn't actually set right) and you can't adjust the minute timer. As in, if I wanted to wake up at 5:00, but it is 9:30 pm, I can set the alarm hour to 5 and it will go off at 5:30 because the minute hand is currently on the 6. It's tedious.
It also removes taking naps. Normally, I set the timer for 30 minutes and lounge away.
Alas, my timer is sitting in customs in Shanghai despite paying expedited delivery which should have put it here a week or two ago. And they're saying that I may have to pay a tax on it, but they won't decide for another two weeks.
WTF?
Well, I'm definitely weaning off my phone addiction.
Hello 90's life.
I loved running Paris because after getting lost enough, you start to figure out your way around. Here, being a much newer city (well, at least the side of the city I live on), everything is on a basic grid. It clears my head, yet fills it with a sense of familiarty of my surroundings.
It is also helping with my energy bill. Our hot water heater is a little box on the wall that makes a horrible sound whenever I am using hot water. If I have the shower on hot, my water pressure is significantly reduced. If I've just come back from a run, I need a cold shower, which means more water pressure, less electricity heating water, and a shorter shower since I can get shampoo and conditioner out of my hair in a decent amount of time. Not that Grace and I are stressing our energy bill, we got the bill last week (which she had to carry to work and ask someone to read it to her, again she can't read Chinese even though she speaks it fluently) and we didn't even use half of our allocated amount. This is awesome news not only because I don't have to pay, but also because the temperature and humidity have risen so much in the last few weeks I can't handle sleeping without the air conditioner anymore. So keep your fingers crossed that I don't have to pay next month.
Not having a phone has really made me question my motivation in running. Sure, I've used many a running sessions to listen to a CD for the first time without interruption or distraction, but sometimes, I've wondered if I would even run without music. If I could even focus on one solitary thing.
Just run.
Embrace all that is around you and don't block anything out.
It's nice to hear things.
And when it rains, I don't stress about getting a phone wet, I breathe in and enjoy it (and probably all the pollutants it brings, too!).
Although, I will say, whlie I miss my music, and being able to Google at the palm of my hand at work, and text people, but the thing I'm most agitated about is the clock.
Not really the clock (I have a watch), but the alarm and the timer.
Grace let me borrow her alarm clock, which is an analog clock that you have to turn to set (I'm always paranoid that it isn't actually set right) and you can't adjust the minute timer. As in, if I wanted to wake up at 5:00, but it is 9:30 pm, I can set the alarm hour to 5 and it will go off at 5:30 because the minute hand is currently on the 6. It's tedious.
It also removes taking naps. Normally, I set the timer for 30 minutes and lounge away.
Alas, my timer is sitting in customs in Shanghai despite paying expedited delivery which should have put it here a week or two ago. And they're saying that I may have to pay a tax on it, but they won't decide for another two weeks.
WTF?
Well, I'm definitely weaning off my phone addiction.
Hello 90's life.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Club InterContinental Week 2/16
I've had a pretty good work week.And, by pretty good, I mean I've eaten better than I do on any given day back in the states with a pretty killer view.
From weird but amazing Chinese dishes that I can't even remember how to pronounce, much less spell (okay, Dim Sum was one, I remember that), to chicken Caesar salad wraps, to the freshest chicken tacos I've ever had in my life (well, maybe a good competitor with Las Tortugas for all the Memphians reading out there, plus it took cake of my mexican craving, but I still need queso pronto), to cheesecake (New York and Greek), strawberry profiteroles, chiffon cake, apple tarts, the best banana nut bread ever, down to supa' fresh sushi. It's been a great week for my taste buds.
Plus I get to look out at a million dollar view of the huge lake from the 27th floor. Have you ever watched the rain begin to fall from 27 floors up? It's awesome. Just watching all the rain drops fall to earth really gives me a weird God-complex of a view.
Although, for this week, we not only watched as the entire city lit up (as I said before, it is GORGEOUS at night here), but defnitely had the best spot for fireworks.
Yep, fireworks.
On the fourth of July and over this weekend, for us and the Canadians.
So, here in China, I had more of an American fourth of July than most of my friends and family back at home what with both Colorado and apparently the south having fire restrictions. I hope you're all supremely jealous as you should be.
We have a library here in the club as well that features a spiral staircase up to a balcony that interrupts the floor to ceiling book shelves, but just for a foot. The Belle inside of me is still gushing that I get to work here and borrow all the books I like.
Nerd alert.
There have been loads of Apple people coming through and a small group of them live back in the bay area. Their jaws dropped when I told them the boyfriend lives there and also works for Apple. These two lovely ladies proceeded to ask about whether I had been to this restaurant or that (as most of my recommendations for their future Memphis travel were food-related). When I said no to a lot of them, they made a list and decided they would look my boyfriend up and make sure that the first thing I got when I got home was an awesome breakfast. They said they would probably be in town since I get home the week before Christmas, so it looks like I already have plans my first day back in the states!
I've also gotten the chance to talk to more of our regulars, people that practically live at the hotel. One is a family of four that has been at the hotel for over a year. They have a 3 year old and a 15 year old and I've loved talking to them about living as a family abroad. They said they've got another year to go and have already been at the hotel for over a year and had an apartment for 2 years before that. When you're an expatriate, the company usually pays for your kids to go to school, so we talked about how he likes the education his daughter is getting.
Now when I say they usually pay for school, I don't mean a cheap school, I mean a private school. A really nice private school. There are 2 here in Suzhou: Singapore International School which is within a mile of my apartment and reminds me a lot of my own preppy high school and Dulwich, which is smaller and more creative arts-oriented, which is where she attends school as she didn't like the preppy one. The bus comes to pick her up at the hotel everyday (by the way it's a really nice coach bus) and drops her off just in time for high tea at the lounge so she comes to snack while she does homework.
One of our other guests doesn't quite live there, but instead, drops in for long periods and out for short ones. He lives in Maine with 3 kids, all college age and just older, and this trip has been 5 weeks long. He goes home next week for 2 weeks, one to relax and one to go to Boston.
I was tired of staying in hotels after just a week and a half of traveling before coming here, I can't imagine how he feels packing for 5 weeks just to go home and pack again for another week.
He has to go to Boston with his son to tax a class on letting his school get federal funding so the students can get loans and pell grants and such to go to this cosmetoleogy school he just bought.
When I asked why a cosmetology school, he's always "wanted to own his own business," something to settle on and call his own. He knew the owners and they were getting old and wanted to sell it. His son had just graduated from college with a business degree, so he bought it and his son is running it. His middle son is also at school for business and helps his brother out to be part of the family affair, not to mention boosting his resume. Cool, right?
He says he loves his job here and has really taken in a culture he never really cared for before (by the way he has 2 hour tutoring sessions in Chinese every other day he is here), but he really loves building something with his boys. I asked both of them how long they thought they were supposed to be in China when they originally came. The answer?
6 months.
Yep.
Crazy, huh?
Mom, don't panic.
I've learned a lot of Chinese this week, too. There comes a time when you get to a point in a language where you start piecing things together on your own. And it feels really great, especially in a language so difficult and one that I have had no previous experience in.
For example, I learned how to say "red wine" last week (hong szhou) and I learned how to say "bastard" this week (hwi den is the only way I could think to write the ping ying version). The "hwi" means "bad," and the "den" means "egg."
So this week when Sky decided she would mix grape juice and soda water to see if it tasted like grape soda (I was super eager to try this), I made a face and answered "hwi szhou" as it tasted like really bad wine. The entire kitchen erupted into laughter as most of them didn't know that I had learned any Chinese outside of "hi" and "thank you."
I've also answered a lot of questions this week. Owen, one of my colleagues tells me I am the first American intern they have had. Mostly those from Spain and the Ukraine, but no Americans. So they want to know everything...
Do we have Dragon Fruit?
When I answered no and then answered the following question asking what my favorite fruits where, the entire room laughed histerically when I finished with "blackberries."
"Why do Americans eat phones?" they finally squeaked out between laughs.
How hilarious is it when a phone has farther reach in general knowledge than a fruit? Well, I guess I don't have to tell you that they don't have blackberries here.
Do I have pets?
No. And yes, I answered back with "do you eat yours?" Well, not exactly, I was much more polite when I inquired whether or not people actually eat pets. She said, "no."
There you are, the question you've been dying to ask and a few even have, the answer is a simple no and a complicated yes.
People do eat them but they are rare, like people that eat crocodile or something of the sort.
Sidenote: I try to flip everything back to the states as a comparison to give you an idea, but also myself a better understanding of where they're coming from.
Just as we often see crocodile hunters as hicks with weird tastes, they see dog eaters as horrible, horrible, people. The scum of society.
There, that should comfort a great many of you.
When I asked if they had pets, I received a flood of pictures (all on iPhones) as a response. They love their pets and kids as much as we love ours and brag every second on them as they flaunt their pictures about.
I realized quickly that most people have purse dogs. At first, I thought this was because they seem heavily influenced by L.A. and things they see celebrities doing (they are up in a hissy over Cruise and Holmes right now, they think Cruise is a closet gay, which shocked me that they even knew how to say that in English). But it also makes more sense to have a small dog when you live in a city like this, easier to care for and control. It mostly seems they really like just small fuzzy things what with all the rabbits they have on things and such.
They love their phones, pets, kids, and learning about other cultures (they really don't mind asking anything).
Sky is sick right now and I asked her how she was feeling. She said she wasn't sure, she needed to make a phone call.
To mom.
Of course.
Don't we all? I come all the way around the world and at the end of the day, everyone calls mom when they don't feel good.
Sky said she said some things to make her feel better, told her to drink water, sprite, or apple juice (my own mother's remedies coming out of a Chinese mouth) and if she doesn't feel better by tomorrow night to go see the clinic doctor.
Figures.
The great thing about working in this hotel is that it is like a cruise ship. There are 4 restaurants, 2 bars, our club lounge, a spa, a huge gym, a big pool, 6 meeting rooms, and a giant ball room. Like a cruise ship, there is also an eating canteen for the staff that serves 4 meals a day and even a clinic for us during the week days.
As in, there's a doctor on staff Monday - Friday for me to go see instead of paying to go to the doctor.
Plus a lot of us live in the company-provided housing that has a daily shuttle schedule.
Like I said, a cruise ship.
My only complaint is my difficulty with the language barrier. They often speak in Chinese, as they should, it's their mother tongue and I don't want to obligate them to speak in English all the time when they're having side conversations. Although it does give me that feeling you get when you go to the nail salon and the Vietnemese ladies keep talking back and forth.
You know, the one where you want to swing your foot up to kick them in the face because your paranoid that their talking about your feet is getting a little out of hand?
Yeah, that one.
Except, they're probably talking about more than my feet.
But now that I'm learning more Chinese, I think they feel respected and excited to talk teach me something. They are also getting more comfortable with speaking English more often and aren't afraid to start a sentence they may not be able to finish without asking "how to say" followed by a weird description.
The funniest one this week was "how to say something bad, but is still polite?"
Backstory: There was a group of guests that came in demanding things, a real "hwi den," but they clearly cannot say "bastard" out on the floor and wanted to know what they could say in English instead.
I gave a list of childish names, such as jerko or meanie or simply "rude boy or people," as well as saying "frick" instead of "fuck."
But I also taught them my secret weapon when dealing with a guest directly, sarcasm with a smile. They didn't know the concept of sarcasm so after I explained it to them, they started say "oh, you are so beautiful today" in a stressed sarcastic tone to each other.
Hilarious.
So I told them, if you wanted to still be polite, but curt (I had to explain that word, too), you just had to be sarcastic or say things like, "as I have already said," or "I would love to help you with that if you would actually allow me the opportunity." This way you were standing your ground, and half-insulting them, but not to a point where they were going to scream at your supervisor since they also kind of realized they were being stupid.
Thank you Hilton Hotels for allowing me to test these theories while working in your complaint department as I've continued to hone these skills like a charm and have been able to dismiss and resolve lots of stupid guests and problems, respectively.
By answering their questions and learning their language, I feel like I've gotten to know the people I work with a lot better this week and they, me as well. I feel a lot more accepted and welcome as they include me in more conversations and trained me on more things and have even granted me the glorious honor of changing my uniform from a front desk one to a Club Supervisor one.
I know that means nothing to you, but for me, it means no more panty hose.
Hell, yes.
Lots of victories this week.
Much love.
From weird but amazing Chinese dishes that I can't even remember how to pronounce, much less spell (okay, Dim Sum was one, I remember that), to chicken Caesar salad wraps, to the freshest chicken tacos I've ever had in my life (well, maybe a good competitor with Las Tortugas for all the Memphians reading out there, plus it took cake of my mexican craving, but I still need queso pronto), to cheesecake (New York and Greek), strawberry profiteroles, chiffon cake, apple tarts, the best banana nut bread ever, down to supa' fresh sushi. It's been a great week for my taste buds.
Plus I get to look out at a million dollar view of the huge lake from the 27th floor. Have you ever watched the rain begin to fall from 27 floors up? It's awesome. Just watching all the rain drops fall to earth really gives me a weird God-complex of a view.
Although, for this week, we not only watched as the entire city lit up (as I said before, it is GORGEOUS at night here), but defnitely had the best spot for fireworks.
Yep, fireworks.
On the fourth of July and over this weekend, for us and the Canadians.
So, here in China, I had more of an American fourth of July than most of my friends and family back at home what with both Colorado and apparently the south having fire restrictions. I hope you're all supremely jealous as you should be.
We have a library here in the club as well that features a spiral staircase up to a balcony that interrupts the floor to ceiling book shelves, but just for a foot. The Belle inside of me is still gushing that I get to work here and borrow all the books I like.
Nerd alert.
There have been loads of Apple people coming through and a small group of them live back in the bay area. Their jaws dropped when I told them the boyfriend lives there and also works for Apple. These two lovely ladies proceeded to ask about whether I had been to this restaurant or that (as most of my recommendations for their future Memphis travel were food-related). When I said no to a lot of them, they made a list and decided they would look my boyfriend up and make sure that the first thing I got when I got home was an awesome breakfast. They said they would probably be in town since I get home the week before Christmas, so it looks like I already have plans my first day back in the states!
I've also gotten the chance to talk to more of our regulars, people that practically live at the hotel. One is a family of four that has been at the hotel for over a year. They have a 3 year old and a 15 year old and I've loved talking to them about living as a family abroad. They said they've got another year to go and have already been at the hotel for over a year and had an apartment for 2 years before that. When you're an expatriate, the company usually pays for your kids to go to school, so we talked about how he likes the education his daughter is getting.
Now when I say they usually pay for school, I don't mean a cheap school, I mean a private school. A really nice private school. There are 2 here in Suzhou: Singapore International School which is within a mile of my apartment and reminds me a lot of my own preppy high school and Dulwich, which is smaller and more creative arts-oriented, which is where she attends school as she didn't like the preppy one. The bus comes to pick her up at the hotel everyday (by the way it's a really nice coach bus) and drops her off just in time for high tea at the lounge so she comes to snack while she does homework.
One of our other guests doesn't quite live there, but instead, drops in for long periods and out for short ones. He lives in Maine with 3 kids, all college age and just older, and this trip has been 5 weeks long. He goes home next week for 2 weeks, one to relax and one to go to Boston.
I was tired of staying in hotels after just a week and a half of traveling before coming here, I can't imagine how he feels packing for 5 weeks just to go home and pack again for another week.
He has to go to Boston with his son to tax a class on letting his school get federal funding so the students can get loans and pell grants and such to go to this cosmetoleogy school he just bought.
When I asked why a cosmetology school, he's always "wanted to own his own business," something to settle on and call his own. He knew the owners and they were getting old and wanted to sell it. His son had just graduated from college with a business degree, so he bought it and his son is running it. His middle son is also at school for business and helps his brother out to be part of the family affair, not to mention boosting his resume. Cool, right?
He says he loves his job here and has really taken in a culture he never really cared for before (by the way he has 2 hour tutoring sessions in Chinese every other day he is here), but he really loves building something with his boys. I asked both of them how long they thought they were supposed to be in China when they originally came. The answer?
6 months.
Yep.
Crazy, huh?
Mom, don't panic.
I've learned a lot of Chinese this week, too. There comes a time when you get to a point in a language where you start piecing things together on your own. And it feels really great, especially in a language so difficult and one that I have had no previous experience in.
For example, I learned how to say "red wine" last week (hong szhou) and I learned how to say "bastard" this week (hwi den is the only way I could think to write the ping ying version). The "hwi" means "bad," and the "den" means "egg."
So this week when Sky decided she would mix grape juice and soda water to see if it tasted like grape soda (I was super eager to try this), I made a face and answered "hwi szhou" as it tasted like really bad wine. The entire kitchen erupted into laughter as most of them didn't know that I had learned any Chinese outside of "hi" and "thank you."
I've also answered a lot of questions this week. Owen, one of my colleagues tells me I am the first American intern they have had. Mostly those from Spain and the Ukraine, but no Americans. So they want to know everything...
Do we have Dragon Fruit?
When I answered no and then answered the following question asking what my favorite fruits where, the entire room laughed histerically when I finished with "blackberries."
"Why do Americans eat phones?" they finally squeaked out between laughs.
How hilarious is it when a phone has farther reach in general knowledge than a fruit? Well, I guess I don't have to tell you that they don't have blackberries here.
Do I have pets?
No. And yes, I answered back with "do you eat yours?" Well, not exactly, I was much more polite when I inquired whether or not people actually eat pets. She said, "no."
There you are, the question you've been dying to ask and a few even have, the answer is a simple no and a complicated yes.
People do eat them but they are rare, like people that eat crocodile or something of the sort.
Sidenote: I try to flip everything back to the states as a comparison to give you an idea, but also myself a better understanding of where they're coming from.
Just as we often see crocodile hunters as hicks with weird tastes, they see dog eaters as horrible, horrible, people. The scum of society.
There, that should comfort a great many of you.
When I asked if they had pets, I received a flood of pictures (all on iPhones) as a response. They love their pets and kids as much as we love ours and brag every second on them as they flaunt their pictures about.
I realized quickly that most people have purse dogs. At first, I thought this was because they seem heavily influenced by L.A. and things they see celebrities doing (they are up in a hissy over Cruise and Holmes right now, they think Cruise is a closet gay, which shocked me that they even knew how to say that in English). But it also makes more sense to have a small dog when you live in a city like this, easier to care for and control. It mostly seems they really like just small fuzzy things what with all the rabbits they have on things and such.
They love their phones, pets, kids, and learning about other cultures (they really don't mind asking anything).
Sky is sick right now and I asked her how she was feeling. She said she wasn't sure, she needed to make a phone call.
To mom.
Of course.
Don't we all? I come all the way around the world and at the end of the day, everyone calls mom when they don't feel good.
Sky said she said some things to make her feel better, told her to drink water, sprite, or apple juice (my own mother's remedies coming out of a Chinese mouth) and if she doesn't feel better by tomorrow night to go see the clinic doctor.
Figures.
The great thing about working in this hotel is that it is like a cruise ship. There are 4 restaurants, 2 bars, our club lounge, a spa, a huge gym, a big pool, 6 meeting rooms, and a giant ball room. Like a cruise ship, there is also an eating canteen for the staff that serves 4 meals a day and even a clinic for us during the week days.
As in, there's a doctor on staff Monday - Friday for me to go see instead of paying to go to the doctor.
Plus a lot of us live in the company-provided housing that has a daily shuttle schedule.
Like I said, a cruise ship.
My only complaint is my difficulty with the language barrier. They often speak in Chinese, as they should, it's their mother tongue and I don't want to obligate them to speak in English all the time when they're having side conversations. Although it does give me that feeling you get when you go to the nail salon and the Vietnemese ladies keep talking back and forth.
You know, the one where you want to swing your foot up to kick them in the face because your paranoid that their talking about your feet is getting a little out of hand?
Yeah, that one.
Except, they're probably talking about more than my feet.
But now that I'm learning more Chinese, I think they feel respected and excited to talk teach me something. They are also getting more comfortable with speaking English more often and aren't afraid to start a sentence they may not be able to finish without asking "how to say" followed by a weird description.
The funniest one this week was "how to say something bad, but is still polite?"
Backstory: There was a group of guests that came in demanding things, a real "hwi den," but they clearly cannot say "bastard" out on the floor and wanted to know what they could say in English instead.
I gave a list of childish names, such as jerko or meanie or simply "rude boy or people," as well as saying "frick" instead of "fuck."
But I also taught them my secret weapon when dealing with a guest directly, sarcasm with a smile. They didn't know the concept of sarcasm so after I explained it to them, they started say "oh, you are so beautiful today" in a stressed sarcastic tone to each other.
Hilarious.
So I told them, if you wanted to still be polite, but curt (I had to explain that word, too), you just had to be sarcastic or say things like, "as I have already said," or "I would love to help you with that if you would actually allow me the opportunity." This way you were standing your ground, and half-insulting them, but not to a point where they were going to scream at your supervisor since they also kind of realized they were being stupid.
Thank you Hilton Hotels for allowing me to test these theories while working in your complaint department as I've continued to hone these skills like a charm and have been able to dismiss and resolve lots of stupid guests and problems, respectively.
By answering their questions and learning their language, I feel like I've gotten to know the people I work with a lot better this week and they, me as well. I feel a lot more accepted and welcome as they include me in more conversations and trained me on more things and have even granted me the glorious honor of changing my uniform from a front desk one to a Club Supervisor one.
I know that means nothing to you, but for me, it means no more panty hose.
Hell, yes.
Lots of victories this week.
Much love.
Friday, July 6, 2012
# prayfortrey
It is weird to feel like you're right at home when you are literally on the opposite end of the planet from the house.
Many mornings on my way to school this last semester I passed a house about halfway through my drive on Walnut Grove Road. It was just before the Yates stoplight, so I was often stopped, hanging out, rockin' out, and staring at a # prayfortrey sign with a jersey number on it.
That's it?
It's crazy that we live in a world that went from "call us for info" to "visit our website" to "AOL Keyword: website" to "see us on our myspace" to "like our facebook page" to simply a hash tag. We took a symbol originally meant for the telephone and used it as a subject point. It's like the new AOL Keyword, really.
Well, I never looked it up. I figured it something related to the high school football rung, probably an injured kid, and I would hear from one of my brothers eventually.
Well, I never did.
It was until I was sitting in my bed outside of Shanghai, China perusing through Facebook that I saw a post from a sales manager I used to work with. She's a mommy-poster, so to see her post something other than her kids was notable. Although, they are supa' adorable, I gotta give her that.
It was a link to a Caring Bridge.
Damn you, Caring Bridge.
The last time I went to a Caring Bridge site was November 2006 - January 2007 and then a year later in January of 2008 for Sheila Klimetz. She was diagnosed with a brain tumor after she fell out at her daughter's, one of my good friend's, volleyball games.
In essence, Caring Bridge is an emotional breeding ground. You have to be wary and only venture in with tissues. I don't like having to use tissues, I'm not much of the crying-type.
But I clicked anyway. And you can, too, right here.
Damn it.
And there it was, # prayfortrey. The little hash tag that had been sitting in the back of my head since February or March. That and a picture of a young kid standing by his mom.
I forced back tears as I read through their journal. I couldn't believe she could write all these things. It amazed me when David (Sheila's husband) would post things. He used as much detail as he could remember and pushed positive emotion as much as possible so his friends and family could know what is going on, but I can't imagine what it is like to repeat these things to the general public, for the whole world to see, as you try and sift through the facts and present them and remind yourself what you and the love of your life are going through.
When I reached the entry that confirmed it was Pancreatic cancer, my heart dropped. Pancreatic cancer is a bazooka or a semi-automatic weapon or a zombie invasion of a cancer, the chances of escaping alive are slim to none.
I only know this because I finished Randy Pausch's book "The Last Lecture" not even 4 weeks ago. Here's the video of his last lecture if you have the time.
It is so strange to see people like Trey and Randy with a death sentence in hang be so strong and encouraging for their families. As the sick ones, we all know the burden rests on them.
Families do all they can to bring everything they can to the table and do their best to be positive and hold back tears, but it is the sick one who has the toughest job of all to maintain outward strength, positivity, and even humor to keep everyone okay and moving through, willing to continue to do what they can to help.
At least that's how I felt when my brother was in the hospital with Lemieres.
I spent every night at the hospital and a full day of school and then work. I was working 40 hours a week and going to school for 20 credit hours. I spent what little energy I had left driving back and forth to Le Bonheur before finally leaving around 2 or 3 in the morning to go take a nap before school.
You spend all the time you have, you pull out all the guns to entice them to keep pushing: good food, Disney music, jokes, ridiculous movies. Whatever. We didn't care.
It didn't matter, though. We were all losing hope fast as the doctor's still didn't know what it was and he continued to turn yellow, cough up unimaginable things with a sound so horrific you were sure it was his last breath.
It took everything in me to leave for work or school.
What if he left while I was gone? What if that was going to be the last time I would see his face? God, what did he even look like healthy?
I couldn't remember.
All I could focus on was his sick body, now.
When he came to after they realized what was wrong and started him on some serious meds, he realized what he was doing to everyone. Of course, it's not his fault, but it was as if he began to realize actually see the look on my mother's face as she held back the flood gates, letting only a few drops leak through, and began to, well, be a dick, again.
Which, for the first time, probably, ever, we were all thrilled about. I must admit, I would occasionally tease him or egg him on when mom seemed down about some procedure. It always made everyone feel better to see Kreston be the asshole that he is again.
So, I get it.
But, I don't.
I thank God every time I see my brother that we got to keep him.
Well, most of the time.
The Erwin Family, the Klimetz family, the Pausch family, their Caring Bridge journals don't end that way.
They didn't get the joys of moving out of ICU and into a standard room and, finally, home with daily shots, and on the way to recovery.
Instead of registering for home health, they were seeking hospice care.
We were just as loved and prayed for, inching every ounce of hope out of our souls.
And that is why I am grateful to come from a city like Memphis. One that rises up to the occasion when one of our pack is down. As I've watched Twitter and Facebook blow up the last 24 hours with #prayfortrey, I can't help but feel the love and unity myself from 6,000 miles away.
Everyone in Memphis will thank God for their families and their kids today.
Everyone will wonder what a great kid like Trey could have been, and what all those wonderful people could have been that were, as the quote on my volunteer t-shirt from St. Jude said, dying "in the dawn of life."
It makes you wonder.
It also makes you angry.
Who are we, not to be struck down by a stomach ache, turned pancreatic cancer?
I realize how lucky not only my brother is to be alive, but all of us are. As Mat Kearney said in "Closer to Love," "We're all just one phone call away from our knees."
One insect bite from malaria, one bad steak from mad cow, or even one jug of water short in the grand canyon from fatal dehydration.
I know my family worries that something could happen to me here, but if you look around at the lives we lose, it happens every day, slowly from a life spent in the sun that turns to skin cancer, or quickly, with a wrong turn gone fatal car wreck.
And they happen every day.
At home.
In China.
No matter.
When we made it down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, I remember reflecting with the boyfriend on probably one of the most profound moments I have ever reached in life.
If I died today, it would be okay.
There's nothing like the contentment of seeing something as beautiful as the Grand Canyon at the start of your day and ending it laying in a river looking up at the wonderful life all around you.
I've reached a point where I'm unbelievably happy and satisfied with my life. It took me longer than it did Trey, but I get the idea that I was a lot faster than most.
For all the travel, the memories, and the abounding love I'm surrounded by, it would be okay if this was all I got.
The Erwin family, in their encouraging manner that is a shining reflection of Trey's, thanks to his upbringing by clearly amazing parents, ended his Caring Bridge journal in with just a short and fitting sentence:
Trey is now healthy in heaven.
For his story, click here.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
The End of an Era
I hope you all had a wonderful Fourth of July. I had completely forgotten about it until a guest wished me a happy one on his way out.
I can't help, but wonder if I will ever celebrate another fourth of july with the family out on the lake. Not in a sad, depressing, I think I'm going to die kind of way.
More so, my life has changed so much without my realizing it, kind of way.
Every time I push off onto one of these adventures without knowing a soul where I am going, I become a little bit more of a loner.
Again, not a depressing loner, just more of an introspective kind of person with a lot more independence than the average girl.
I've always been on the more independent side, I guess that's what you get when you're raised along side boys. No whining or waiting on someone to do it with you, if you want it, go get it, go do it.
Meaning, in the 6th grade and even now to a point, if you have to urinate, damn it, go pee. You don't have to wait on another girl to go with you.
Don't wait on someone to say they will go with you to Disney, or take you to Paris, or move to China with you, go do it.
Because if you aren't willing to do it by yourself, do you really want to do it at all?
I love going to do things with my friend Caitlin. When we did Bonnaroo, with my brother, too, of course, I spent a lot of time without her. It's not that we were fighting. It's that we wanted to see different shows and, so we did, no feelings hurt. If I wanted to go see and do something but she and my brother didn't, I left them. No feelings of being teamed up against or anything.
I didn't appreciate it then, but I did when I got around people that weren't exactly like that. Not that they're bad people, they're just not people you go to music festivals with, I still love them.
Having that dependence on someone to do something with you puts a lot of stress on a relationship. What if they back out or never actually make real plans to go?
You get frustrated and feelings hurt and, boom, no more friends.
With that being said, I give a lot of my friends a lot of space. I don't have many close ones, but I love the ones I do keep close. And when I say "keep close," I often mean going a month without talking about them. I never knew I did this until someone asked if I was upset. I guess most of my friends have learned to deal that I drop off for a while and that I'm not the emotional friend, I'm only going to open up so much.
Anyway, that kind of dependence can really end up hurting you and keeping you from doing the things you love and want to do.
I love Fight Club. It is one of only 3 movies I own on iTunes so that I can have it for when I travel (the other 2 being very opposing "10 Things I Hate About You" and "Moulin Rouge").
"The things you own end up owning you."
When I got my e-mail, letting me know that I had been terminated, it was weird.
Backstory: Disney started a new rule that we have to work something like 120 hours every year and submit our availability for the next quarter, every quarter. I don't make plans that far in advance, so I kept saying I would work in the last quarter available to get hours in before being fired.
I had decided a while back that I would no longer submit my availability, because I realized that when I applying for the Peace Corps and graduate school, that there was no way I was going to be able to afford to keep making these trips just to work for minimum wage and keep perks that I didn't really care about making a trip that often to use.
It was hindering me.
Keeping me from considering the Peace Corps and pushing me to only consider the University of Central Florida for graduate school, a sub-par business school.
It was weird to read that e-mail and realize that such a life-changing era of my life that has been the last 3 years was over.
I would still have my friends, but we would never be as close again.
I'm done with Disney, done with college, and even moved out of house, kind of. I can't help but wonder if I will actually go back to permanently living with dad ever again after this. What happens next? Will I go back to school at home? Take a job in the states? Take another job abroad again?
"When you've lost everything you have the freedom to do anything."
I have the freedom to do whatever I want.
Even though I don't think it will truly sink in until I see everyone talking about being back in school in the fall, it is still strange to know that I am a free agent, done with my education. My life has been 15 week commitments up to this point. How am I supposed to settle down and get a real job, with an indefinite ending and full time hours, after this?
I don't have to go back to school.
I don't have to plan a trip to Disney within every 6 months anymore.
I don't have to do anything.
No commitments.
As strange as it feels, I kind of like it.
But I also fear the next move. I'm supposed to get a real job.
But I don't want the feeling of being tied down to a real job that I may not like but won't quit on account of not wanting to lose health coverage or take a pay cut.
Can't I just do 6 month internships all my life? Learn new things all the time before moving on to a different experience.
I know it's not really socially acceptable, especially since I have the expectations that come with have a college degree now. It's funny that without a college degree, people don't seem to expect you to do anything and don't really care what you do, but with it, you "waste" your time you spent and the money if you take a job that isn't on par.
Wasn't a degree supposed to give you the freedom to do what you want?
Although, if you breeze through life, you never stick around to build something worthy, I guess.
Hippie rant over.
Much love.
I can't help, but wonder if I will ever celebrate another fourth of july with the family out on the lake. Not in a sad, depressing, I think I'm going to die kind of way.
More so, my life has changed so much without my realizing it, kind of way.
Every time I push off onto one of these adventures without knowing a soul where I am going, I become a little bit more of a loner.
Again, not a depressing loner, just more of an introspective kind of person with a lot more independence than the average girl.
I've always been on the more independent side, I guess that's what you get when you're raised along side boys. No whining or waiting on someone to do it with you, if you want it, go get it, go do it.
Meaning, in the 6th grade and even now to a point, if you have to urinate, damn it, go pee. You don't have to wait on another girl to go with you.
Don't wait on someone to say they will go with you to Disney, or take you to Paris, or move to China with you, go do it.
Because if you aren't willing to do it by yourself, do you really want to do it at all?
I love going to do things with my friend Caitlin. When we did Bonnaroo, with my brother, too, of course, I spent a lot of time without her. It's not that we were fighting. It's that we wanted to see different shows and, so we did, no feelings hurt. If I wanted to go see and do something but she and my brother didn't, I left them. No feelings of being teamed up against or anything.
I didn't appreciate it then, but I did when I got around people that weren't exactly like that. Not that they're bad people, they're just not people you go to music festivals with, I still love them.
Having that dependence on someone to do something with you puts a lot of stress on a relationship. What if they back out or never actually make real plans to go?
You get frustrated and feelings hurt and, boom, no more friends.
With that being said, I give a lot of my friends a lot of space. I don't have many close ones, but I love the ones I do keep close. And when I say "keep close," I often mean going a month without talking about them. I never knew I did this until someone asked if I was upset. I guess most of my friends have learned to deal that I drop off for a while and that I'm not the emotional friend, I'm only going to open up so much.
Anyway, that kind of dependence can really end up hurting you and keeping you from doing the things you love and want to do.
I love Fight Club. It is one of only 3 movies I own on iTunes so that I can have it for when I travel (the other 2 being very opposing "10 Things I Hate About You" and "Moulin Rouge").
"The things you own end up owning you."
When I got my e-mail, letting me know that I had been terminated, it was weird.
Backstory: Disney started a new rule that we have to work something like 120 hours every year and submit our availability for the next quarter, every quarter. I don't make plans that far in advance, so I kept saying I would work in the last quarter available to get hours in before being fired.
I had decided a while back that I would no longer submit my availability, because I realized that when I applying for the Peace Corps and graduate school, that there was no way I was going to be able to afford to keep making these trips just to work for minimum wage and keep perks that I didn't really care about making a trip that often to use.
It was hindering me.
Keeping me from considering the Peace Corps and pushing me to only consider the University of Central Florida for graduate school, a sub-par business school.
It was weird to read that e-mail and realize that such a life-changing era of my life that has been the last 3 years was over.
I would still have my friends, but we would never be as close again.
I'm done with Disney, done with college, and even moved out of house, kind of. I can't help but wonder if I will actually go back to permanently living with dad ever again after this. What happens next? Will I go back to school at home? Take a job in the states? Take another job abroad again?
"When you've lost everything you have the freedom to do anything."
I have the freedom to do whatever I want.
Even though I don't think it will truly sink in until I see everyone talking about being back in school in the fall, it is still strange to know that I am a free agent, done with my education. My life has been 15 week commitments up to this point. How am I supposed to settle down and get a real job, with an indefinite ending and full time hours, after this?
I don't have to go back to school.
I don't have to plan a trip to Disney within every 6 months anymore.
I don't have to do anything.
No commitments.
As strange as it feels, I kind of like it.
But I also fear the next move. I'm supposed to get a real job.
But I don't want the feeling of being tied down to a real job that I may not like but won't quit on account of not wanting to lose health coverage or take a pay cut.
Can't I just do 6 month internships all my life? Learn new things all the time before moving on to a different experience.
I know it's not really socially acceptable, especially since I have the expectations that come with have a college degree now. It's funny that without a college degree, people don't seem to expect you to do anything and don't really care what you do, but with it, you "waste" your time you spent and the money if you take a job that isn't on par.
Wasn't a degree supposed to give you the freedom to do what you want?
Although, if you breeze through life, you never stick around to build something worthy, I guess.
Hippie rant over.
Much love.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Working Breakfast and Talking Politics
Today has brought me a few vocabulary lessons.
If a Chinese person says they want red tea, this means black or breakfast tea. When literally translated over, the words for black tea actually mean red tea in English.
If you ask for Chocolate Syrup, be first prepared for them to believe you mean chocolate cereal. They pronounce and understand things like syrup and cereal to be the same word in such a way I could not possibly begin to explain the phonetics, you just have to hear it for yourself. Second, be prepared for them to say, "well, we only have chocolate jam."
Chocolate Jam = Chocolate Syrup
Along those same lines, I misplaced a label at breakfast that read "Peanut Jam."
Peanut Jam = Peanut Butter
I've also eaten a lot. As always.
Chinese sushi = awesome. Sure it originates in Japan as far as culture, but they do a great job. It tastes amazingly fresh.
I also encountered my first Dim Sum and enjoyed it for breakfast of all things. Holy frick. It was awesome. When I asked what was blended up inside the little folded pasta, the answer was "pork, shrimp, corn, and something I don't know the word for in English."
Well, my ignorance was bliss.
Also on the breakfast menu: steamed rice with fried egg, peas, and carrots as well as a shrimp dish with veggies. For breakfast!
Why don't we start breakfast like that!?
Seriously, I could have dim sum, that rice, and the shrimp dish everyday for breakfast and die happy.
I hate to admit it, but my cravings for an American diner breakfast are starting to diminish.
At a guest's request, I also mixed apple and grape juice together. I know it's no super-cultural breakfast, but if you haven't done it, go to the store right now and buy both.
It's like the tangy flavor of a jolly rancher that's semi-healthy. Frick, I need some right now.
On the flip side, they serve bake beans which are of much lower quality than the southern style I'm used to, I'll admit.
And it seems every cookie the serve is hard.
Sidenote: No, I didn't have cookies for breakfast. My shift ended as we were setting up for afternoon tea. Don't judge.
Not stale hard, but that nasty regular, not chewy, chips ahoy kind of cookie. Why enough people eat those hard cookies to continue to drive that market enough that they keep making the damn things, I will never know.
On the social side, I had a guest mention how far ahead China is on development and building structures, yet how far behind they are on social things and general organization.
He made a good point. China has only had 60 something years of being the people's republic and, what, 30 of a modern government, to try and catch up to what has taken us 200 years to get to and we are one of the youngest!
The longer I am here and deal with governmental stuff, the more I realize how unorganized they are and generally lacking strategy, but he made me realize that I need to have more patience towards these kinds of things.
I mean, we had a civil war within a 100 years and we were already over 75 years in by that point.
So, yes they have stupid things like one-child policy, which my fellow co-workers disagree with, but are actually quite happy that China has been receptive enough to allow many people to have a second child in recent years. Sure there's a fine and I'm not saying some of the things that go on are okay, but as my new friends say when commenting on the recent story, "that is not common. Those things never really happen. I mean, we are just trying to figure out the population. I want to have kids one day, but I also understand that resources are tight."
My other lunch mate smiled happily when I agreed with her that I was thinking producing was a no-go for me. If Disney World wasn't birth control enough, then the kids that ran around terrorizing breakfast that morning were.
These things happen in a country that is still so young and still trying to figure things out.
I mean, aren't we, too?
We are still fighting over gay marriage when France has been finished with that for years.
In summation, let's cut them some slack and have some patience.
Well, that's the end of my political rant.
I got a card in the mail from the boyfriend today.
I have been playing charades with the security guard all week about whether or not I had mail (he speaks no English and I, well, duh, I don't speak Chinese). When I walked in today, he jumped up and plopped a little envelope addressed to yours truly in my hand.
I totally felt like some dorky kid that got mail from home at camp. It could have been a weather update from home and I wouldn't have cared, it just felt awesome to get mail. As in, "See people, I may be a freak here, but back home, I have friends. Suck on that."
Much love.
If a Chinese person says they want red tea, this means black or breakfast tea. When literally translated over, the words for black tea actually mean red tea in English.
If you ask for Chocolate Syrup, be first prepared for them to believe you mean chocolate cereal. They pronounce and understand things like syrup and cereal to be the same word in such a way I could not possibly begin to explain the phonetics, you just have to hear it for yourself. Second, be prepared for them to say, "well, we only have chocolate jam."
Chocolate Jam = Chocolate Syrup
Along those same lines, I misplaced a label at breakfast that read "Peanut Jam."
Peanut Jam = Peanut Butter
I've also eaten a lot. As always.
Chinese sushi = awesome. Sure it originates in Japan as far as culture, but they do a great job. It tastes amazingly fresh.
I also encountered my first Dim Sum and enjoyed it for breakfast of all things. Holy frick. It was awesome. When I asked what was blended up inside the little folded pasta, the answer was "pork, shrimp, corn, and something I don't know the word for in English."
Well, my ignorance was bliss.
Also on the breakfast menu: steamed rice with fried egg, peas, and carrots as well as a shrimp dish with veggies. For breakfast!
Why don't we start breakfast like that!?
Seriously, I could have dim sum, that rice, and the shrimp dish everyday for breakfast and die happy.
I hate to admit it, but my cravings for an American diner breakfast are starting to diminish.
At a guest's request, I also mixed apple and grape juice together. I know it's no super-cultural breakfast, but if you haven't done it, go to the store right now and buy both.
It's like the tangy flavor of a jolly rancher that's semi-healthy. Frick, I need some right now.
On the flip side, they serve bake beans which are of much lower quality than the southern style I'm used to, I'll admit.
And it seems every cookie the serve is hard.
Sidenote: No, I didn't have cookies for breakfast. My shift ended as we were setting up for afternoon tea. Don't judge.
Not stale hard, but that nasty regular, not chewy, chips ahoy kind of cookie. Why enough people eat those hard cookies to continue to drive that market enough that they keep making the damn things, I will never know.
On the social side, I had a guest mention how far ahead China is on development and building structures, yet how far behind they are on social things and general organization.
He made a good point. China has only had 60 something years of being the people's republic and, what, 30 of a modern government, to try and catch up to what has taken us 200 years to get to and we are one of the youngest!
The longer I am here and deal with governmental stuff, the more I realize how unorganized they are and generally lacking strategy, but he made me realize that I need to have more patience towards these kinds of things.
I mean, we had a civil war within a 100 years and we were already over 75 years in by that point.
So, yes they have stupid things like one-child policy, which my fellow co-workers disagree with, but are actually quite happy that China has been receptive enough to allow many people to have a second child in recent years. Sure there's a fine and I'm not saying some of the things that go on are okay, but as my new friends say when commenting on the recent story, "that is not common. Those things never really happen. I mean, we are just trying to figure out the population. I want to have kids one day, but I also understand that resources are tight."
My other lunch mate smiled happily when I agreed with her that I was thinking producing was a no-go for me. If Disney World wasn't birth control enough, then the kids that ran around terrorizing breakfast that morning were.
These things happen in a country that is still so young and still trying to figure things out.
I mean, aren't we, too?
We are still fighting over gay marriage when France has been finished with that for years.
In summation, let's cut them some slack and have some patience.
Well, that's the end of my political rant.
I got a card in the mail from the boyfriend today.
I have been playing charades with the security guard all week about whether or not I had mail (he speaks no English and I, well, duh, I don't speak Chinese). When I walked in today, he jumped up and plopped a little envelope addressed to yours truly in my hand.
I totally felt like some dorky kid that got mail from home at camp. It could have been a weather update from home and I wouldn't have cared, it just felt awesome to get mail. As in, "See people, I may be a freak here, but back home, I have friends. Suck on that."
Much love.
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