I really wasn't kidding when I referred to a 5-year old's dance recital

As a visual reference to my post on what an ad-hoc Chinese talent show would entail, I managed to dig up a photo that pretty much sums it all.  Thanks, "Little Wang" and "Little Tang," for making good use of my camera.  And yes, that is a heart the two "dancers" in the front are making with their arms.

So fresh and so clean, clean

Reason #5,927,253 why I am sometimes completely baffled by my Chinese colleagues and roommates: They brush their teeth before breakfast.  And not in the "I am leaving to go to work and am planning to stop and get coffee en route, so I am going to brush my teeth before I leave the house" kind of way.  Rather, the insistence on brushing one's teeth before breakfast is to such an extreme extent that as I sat down to have a bowl of spicy noodle soup with my roommates for breakfast this morning, one of them--right before taking a bite--jumped up, said '"Oh! I have to brush my teeth," then ran off to the bathroom.  Umm, ok, 1)if OJ tastes disgusting after brushing teeth, there is no way that spicy food doesn't taste rank (even Tom's of Maine doesn't make mint-chili pepper flavor), and 2)YOUR TEETH ARE GOING TO BE DIRTY AGAIN AFTER YOU EAT, thus defeating the purpose of brushing them in the first place.

Their reason for doing so was that "Chinese people brush their teeth before eating." Right.  I figured that out already.  Since I default to "foreigners have different habits" on a near-daily basis as a means for explaining my apparently puzzling behavior, however, I just nodded and let it slide.

Talent Shows, Chinese Style

This past week we helped host a 5-day training seminar for over 40 NGO workers from organizations throughout China. The workshops were actually some of the most impressive I've seen since I've been here, as there was a lot of role playing, hands-on observation of projects, and discussion of the fact that any NGO has to cooperate extensively with the local government from the idea phase, throughout implementation, and all the way through to project conclusion. In fact, it is impossible to carry out any poverty alleviation or rural development project without approval and oversight from the local party officials.

Last night, at the conclusion of the training seminar, there was a "talent show," which proved to be far more entertaining to me than any of the hours-long info sessions in Chinese that I attended. I honestly felt like I was at a 6 year old's birthday party. First of all, anything anyone did was basically terrible--at least 5 people went up in front of everyone, sang in an awful voice, forgot the lyrics after about 8 lines, and promptly laughed and went back to his or her seat. If the performers didn't sing, they instead did a dance which largely resembled something I might have done in a dance recital when I was 5. Second, everyone there would literally drag individuals up to the front of the room and force them to "perform," despite their protests. Once up there, however, the performer would get into it and everyone in the audience would clap and sing loudly along with them. Finally, I, of course, was made to perform because 90% of the people there had never interacted with an actual foreigner before and wanted me to do something in English. My colleague actually suggested I give them a proper, native-English-speaker rendition of the ABCs. I am not even kidding. Instead, I went up there and was like "OK, I picked a song that I think some of you may know the words to and can sing along with me." And then I sung Happy Birthday. Thus making it seem even more like a birthday party for my 4 year old nephew.

All in all, however, it was good for a laugh and did make me appreciate that Chinese people love any opportunity to get together with friends, and don't need any music, alcoholic drinks (though they love those too), or fancy venues to have a good time.

Photo of The Day: Futher Proof That Chinese People Might Actually Be Insane

The NGO director's wife, cooking our daily family-style lunch at the office.  God forbid we close that large window behind her in the kitchen when it's cold enough to snow outside.  Wearing 18 layers of clothing and a winter jacket makes so much more sense.

Why Feng Shui is ruining my life

Yes, I know, we all like to think of Feng Shui as a trendy interior design concept, but its literal meaning--wind and water--generally refers to the balance of elements in nature, the laws of Heaven and Earth, and the flow of "Qi," or energy, in Ancient Chinese astronomy and philosophy.  What this apparently translates into in contemporary China is a need to constantly have a flow of air & "qi" running through your home, so as not to feel stuffy.  So, despite the fact that it is drizzling rain and 42 degrees outside today, half the windows and both of the doors to the office are wide open.  As my colleague informed me "it's not healthy to have all the windows closed because then it will be stuffy and you can get sick."  Because I'm certainly not going to get sick from sitting at my desk in a damp, frigid room all day.

Thanks to the cold front we've experienced recently, my colleagues finally decided that it was time to break out the space heater.  Again, however, the windows and doors are wide open.  As a result, just about everyone has relocated their work space to ascloseaspossible to the space heater.  It took just about all of my willpower not to say "FOOLS.  If you close the windows and doors we can heat the WHOLE ROOM!  Doesn't that sound like a GREAT IDEA?!?"  Instead, I politely pointed out that perhaps if we closed the window right next to the space heater, maybe it wouldn't be so cold.  No dice:
"Then the air will be bad."
"Really?  In the US, I always find that the heater makes the room a bit warmer if we close the windows."
"Chinese space heaters are different.  You need to have the windows open." 
"It seems pretty similar.  Do you want to try?"
"No.  These are different.  It will be too stuffy."

Apparently they know all about the differences between American and Chinese space heaters.   Not only can you marginally warm up if you sit right next to a Chinese space heater, but you can also put legs on it, and use it to cook & eat your lunch.  Don't believe me?
Exhibit A - family-style lunch at the office:

Note the open window immediately behind us, as everyone is bundled up in winter jackets.  genius.

The Other White Meat

I neglected to mention that, as part of the countryside celebrations of the Chinese National Day holiday, I also had the distinct pleasure of witnessing the slaughter of a live pig. By hand. No big deal. Tastes like chicken?

Step 1: pig is weighed

Step 2: Preparing for slaughter.  Takes four dudes to mount the squealing animal on the bench.

Step 3: I just couldn't bring myself to witness the slitting of the throat, but here's the aftermath. Compare the metal bowl in this photo vs. in the previous one...  Also, note the cigs hanging from everyone's mouth as they wrestle the animal to the ground with blood-covered hands.  Ballers.

Step 4: Soaking the dead pig in a vat of hot water before skinning it

Step 5: Gutting the pig

Step 6: dinner.

Excedrin, anyone?

The director of the NGO where I work had a headache the other day, and was taking what seemed to be a rather large dose (12 pills, 3xday!) of small black gel-caps to alleviate the pain. Fortunately, the indications were written on the package in English, so I don't even have to translate for you:

"Action & Indications:
To dispel wind-evil and releasing stagnated lung energy, clear away heat and toxicity, relieve nasal obstruction to stop pain. Treated for nasal obstruction, sinusitis with purulent discharge, unfree orifices, smell badly, headache and eyebrow bone pain."

A break from Mainland China...followed by a rapid re-indoctrination

Because the number of Chinese tourist visas in my passport always makes me a bit nervous when applying for yet another visa, I generally take whatever the Chinese Embassy will give me; this time around, I am required to leave & re-enter the country every 60 days. I was originally annoyed at the prospect, but it has turned into a blessing in disguise as I now have the perfect excuse to head to Hong Kong every two months. Coming from the countryside and setting foot in a Hong Kong grocery store is probably on par with a freshly-minted-fake-ID-carrying minor setting foot in a liquor store. Peanut butter! Snickers bars! CHEESE!! Heaven. I also conveniently schedule my HK sojourn around an ultimate frisbee tournament, so I joined forces with some friends from Shanghai and got to play ultimate all weekend - and we won!

My return to mainland China and Tongjiang, however, was not as successful. After missing my departing flight on Sunday evening, no thanks to Air China's customer service-oriented miserably unhelpful staff, I spent the night at an airport hotel and was able to get on a flight the following morning. Obviously, this flight was delayed an hour, but my originally scheduled flight the preceding evening was right on time. Spent most of Monday recovering in Chendgu by eating and watching pirated DVDs before my favorite part of the journey on Tuesday: the 8+ hour public bus ride from Chengdu to Tongjiang.

Over the past 3.5 years in Asia, I have developed a personal theory that Asians in general--and Chinese in particular--are more prone to suffer from motion sickness than Caucasians. Countless flights in which people around me have made use of the "barf bags" was the seed that started my theory, and the trips I have made back and forth along the windy roads between Tongjiang and Chengdu have only given me further evidence. Little did I understand the ironic foreshadowing of the following day's bus ride when I hopped on my favorite online Chinese dictionary and Monday's example said "Try 'carsickness,' 'yunche,' or ‘晕车.' "

The first 3 hours of the trip were relatively puke-free. Furthermore, because I had learned my lesson the hard way on my first Tongjiang-->Chengdu trip, I had my trusty iPod in tow and could throw on the headphones and blast the music in the event that I wanted to mask the sounds of proximate booting. After our mid-day lunch stop, however, the regurgitation of instant noodles began...right next to me. The sweet middle-aged woman next me grabbed the black plastic bag that is apparently standard issue on every bus ride and started going at it. I cranked up the volume, looked out the window at the scenery, and managed to take my mind elsewhere until she was better. An hour later, however, she was at it again with barf bag #2. This time however, rather than leaning into the aisle of the bus, she decided that my leg looked like a comfortable arm rest and used it to prop herself up as she doubled over and vomited into the bag. All I could do was cringe, hold my breath, and question my decision to wear flip flops as I prayed the flimsy bag didn't break. Several hours and three more plastic bags later (total: 5 bags of puke), we were nearly to Tongjiang; the bus stopped for a bathroom break and my neighbor got off to get some fresh air.

At this point, I figured I had seen the worst of it and went back to reading while waiting for everyone to re-board for the last hour of the trip. No such luck, however. I glanced up from my book to see the grandmother across the aisle from me readying her grandson's traditional split-seam pants for him to actually urinate IN THE AISLE OF THE BUS. Right at her feet. WHILE THE BUS WAS STOPPED FOR A BATHROOM BREAK. And she was in the third row, approximately 10 feet from the door. And the trashcan was about 2 feet from her, if she really couldn't be bothered to take him outside to go on the ground. Unreal.