Happy… happy… “how do you say Halloween?”

Inspiration hits, calls, texts, and emails go out, a loose, but enticing plan is made, and events are set in motion without really, truly thinking it through.  And that’s what I was thinking when I found myself sitting in the front seat of a cab in my bathrobe, with a shower cap on, with a yogurt and oatmeal facial dripping from my face - a totally thrown together Halloween costume from whatever was at hand, and no way to explain the situation in Chinese.

Part of the Chinese culture is to stare at whatever interests them.  If it’s a foreigner, they state the obvious, "Laowai!" (foreigner!), or “Look, it’s a foreigner!”  The bolder ones will yell, “HELLO!” followed by lots of hilarious laughter.  This is part of my daily life.  I usually wear my headphones and try to ignore it.  I only get upset when "HELLO!"  happens on my campus because, come on, this is an international school, this is my home base, please give me a moment of peace.

For the first time since I’ve been here, the costumed PCVs rendered the staring Chinese mute.  When we walked out of Stephanie’s apartment and down the street to get cabs, not a single, "Laowai!" or “HELLO!” This was Saturday night, and 8 of us, including a few plain clothed, shocked Chinese friends, were heading to an American bar, creatively called “Foreigners.”  One of the bar owners also teaches English at Stephanie’s university, and he promised a free bottle of something if we showed up.  That’s all it took.

After we sorted out the cab situation and we were on our way, I thought I should say something to the driver since he was staring at me and driving headlong into oncoming traffic.  A little too late, I realized I don’t know how to explain Halloween in Chinese, I don’t even know the word for party!
     I asked him if he knew Halloween ("Ni zhidao Halloween ma?").
     Don't know ("Bu zhidao").  
     So, I continued with the usual: "We are university English teachers from America,” as if that explained everything.  
     He just said, “OK, OK” and went on with his insane driving.
I was expecting, but didn't get: I don't understand ("Wo ting bu dong").  This is my only language goal: do not use, and do not hear, "Wo ting bu dong."  

The thing about being a foreigner is that it’s easy to meet other foreigners; we all stand out.  Just like the Chinese, Jason will say “laowai” to any non-Chinese person he sees, and he makes friends easily that way.  We met some new foreigners that night, but mostly we filled the bar with the people we already knew. 

Stephanie, feeling moved by the Halloween spirit, starting planning a party at her university for next year.  She spent the night talking to everyone, gathering ideas, and taking pledges for help and stuff that no one will remember in a week, much less a year away.  Still, her enthusiasm is positive energy, and I’m feeling a little bad, just a little, that I didn’t plan any Halloween event here.  But, Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming up! Hmmmm, I wonder what I can do?

An impressive good-person story came out of that night.  Another foreign teacher at my university left her wallet in a cab.  The cab driver called the university, drove out here, returned it to her, and didn’t want anything for his honesty or trouble.  Now that's good karma!  She did manage to leave some money in his cab for him.

    

working on the railroad

One reason I like going to the English Corner at the Chongqing public library every Saturday is graduate students and professionals attend.  Talking to them is very different from talking to my shy sophomore students.  Even though this group has varying levels of English ability, they want to discuss substantial topics on a challenging intellectual level.  Reading the New York Times everyday is little prep for these discussions.  Why didn’t I pay more attention in high school economics?  Did I even have economics?  Can ANYONE explain the Electoral College?  Despite what the Times says, people in China are paying attention to the election and they are listening to the debates.  I’m fielding many questions, questions I cannot answer.

Obama?  Romney?  a word, please.  Your frequent and maybe hostile sounding references to China are making my job here as a PEACE corps volunteer more difficult.  In some infinitesimal way, I am representing the United States to this small group of intellectuals.  I cannot, and do not attempt to, explain the US foreign policy toward China.  Nor, can I attempt to interpret or explain your seemingly anti-China attitudes and let's-get-tough sounding campaign pledges.  I cannot even judge if what you're saying makes any sense.

What I can do is hopefully put a friendly face to the word American.  That's it.

It was during last Saturday’s English corner that I learned about the reason for the incessant pounding outside my apartment building.  An old railroad is being rebuilt, by hand.  I walk a short section of this old railroad bed from my apartment to the start of the endless-steps that go to the upper campus.

I find this a fascinating story.  After the railroad was removed, some local, nostalgic people complained to the government that they wanted to preserve the railroad's history; the government listened, and then took action.  This seems like a pretty big social shift from the past when Chinese people had no voice.  But, the action is right out of the 19^th century, featuring a few men, picks, and shovels, and backbreaking manual labor to restore this section of railroad.  I can almost hear our famous railroad folk song.  In the US, we convert old railroad beds into smooth, often paved, walking/bike paths.  Not here, even though people do walk this stretch to get from place to place.  Bikes are not used in Chongqing because it is so hilly.  

a few men, lots of backbreaking work

It’s not clear where the railroad goes, but it was once associated with cargo, or moving mil-itary people to SISU for language training.  SISU was originally founded as a Russian Training School of Southwest Mil-itary University in 1950. On the other side of the school is still a base/school/training center.  I start and end my day with the Chinese militar-y version of "Taps," so I can attest to superpower their PA system.

pounding in nails, one at a time

my apt building from the railroad

this railroad is now for show, not use

Yonghui Superstore

About a 20-minute walk from my apartment to the bottom of the hill, is Yonghui Superstore.  I shop for food here once or twice a week, especially when I’m tired or I don't feel like bargaining.  The other option for buying food is from street markets or street vendors with prices that require negotiation.  I’m terrible at bargaining because it just feels weird to do; I want to buy 3 apples and move on, and because I really have to concentrate on the language of shopping and numbers.  I’ll describe the street market scene later.

Everyone buys food as part of their daily routine, carrying home stout bags, heavy with groceries.  Sometimes bags are carried between 2 people, or bang-bang men will carry loads on each end of their poles for a small fee.   Any time I start to feel whiny about the hike up the hill with my arms breaking, I inevitably see an old, petite woman carrying a 50lb bag of rice.  Then, I’m compelled to straighten my back and walk a little faster, tying to make a good showing in the name of all American women.  Never mind that I really represent American women who drive SUVs to Costco and then home again.  The hike up hill requires me to stop several times to discreetly shake out my hands which I do by feigning text messaging.  Why else would anyone stop?

rice bins

Yonghui Superstore is much like any American superstore, except in China; the meat and produce sections are mega-sized and have all the action.  I love the fruits and vegetable sections.  I totally avoid the meat section; I don’t even look in that direction.  

dried mushroom, red peppers

bag loose eggs

everything gets weighed at scales by frantic workers

all of this has to be cooked to kill whatever,
no eating raw produce, which means no salads

what's missing??? butter and cheese, that's right, none, zero

head sized grapefruit 

various steamed bread things, they
look better than they actually taste

stuffed, steamed buns, sold everywhere 

dumplings, an everyday food

beloved chicken feet

meat hanging from hooks

pig heads

at another store,  shoppers pick
caged ducks and chickens which are then killed at the store

live fish, get killed at home

a lille girl playing with fish

Gele Mountain

AHHH, I saw the sun today!  Well, for a brief time anyway.

Everyone within sight of my windows was hanging out wet laundry, everyone except the people in my building.  I started a load, and then, the water went off, leaving me to wonder if I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on.  The plumbing work required cycles of much yelling and banging, followed by sitting and smoking, and took most of the morning.  I know all this because I didn’t have class today.

An email from Quintin, thankfully cleared up the to fan -- not fan question:   “PV=nRT => P - you can do little about; n&R are fixed.  T is measured in Kelvin thus 273K to 383K (ice to boiling) is only a 100/273 = 36% change but V (a fan) is really effective.  A small fan will more than double the V factor and thus the drying effectiveness.”  So, I put the fan on my drying laundry, and headed up the mountain.

Gele Mountain is the gorgeous backdrop to this university campus, and is actually a series of peaks along a ridge.  Most days, the ridge is shrouded in a hazy mist and fog.  Everyday I look up there and tell myself, "I should really just go up anyway, that the climb would be good for me."  A few weeks ago with one of my students, I actually did climbed through the fog following a steep, slippery trail, one of many that crisscross the mountain. 

Today, I took the stairs.  The stairs roughly follow the gondola route to a point just below the peak with an ancient temple on the top.  Where the stairs and gondola end are a hotel, a restaurant, and a ticket seller.  To go to the viewpoint or up to the temple ruin costs money.  

On the fog day hike, my student and I were able to take a “free” trail to the ancient temple.  As we walked around the ruin, violent images carved on walls eerily emerged out of the mist, giving me a very uneasy feeling.

carved wall of ancient temple, top of Gele Mountain

detail of carved wall

these creepy images appear on rock outcrops

the temple is on several levels

Gele Mountain from upper campus

in sunglasses, following the gondola stairs

lots of lush vegetation

what's not to love about a banana bench?

short dresses make it up the stairs 

this girl wore tennis shoes
(and guys carry man-bags)

banana plant?, see the sunshine?

mid-mountain noodle shop

view of the upper campus

guys just take off their shirts when hot,
no matter where they are, even downtown

full fashion on the stairs

go barefoot if hiking in heels doesn't workout

Naturally, today I was most interested in the hiking outfits on the mountain.  I really need to figure out how to take covert fashion shots.  There are so many opportunities!