Some more observations, while they're fresh on my brain:
-My supervisor, Celine, thinks she's overweight. She is definitely skinny by American standards. Her solution? She doesn't eat. I think her first meal of the day is at around 9 pm. Everyone here is pretty much thin as a rail. I don't understand it - the food is so heavy and greasy, and they PILE that stuff up on their plates. The only fat people I've seen are some old men. And the worst part is, when they get hot, they curl their shirts up like Britney Spears in Hit Me Baby, One More Time. And some of them sit in restaurants shirtless. It's a sight, let me tell ya.
-Chinese people can not sing. I'm not trying to generalize or be rude, but I just don't think it's in their genes. I don't know if it's because their language forces them to use harsh and quick sounds, but their tone is just flat and unappealing. But, somehow, karaoke is a huge pastime here. Go figure.
-Chinese people are pretty simple minded. The IT guy who worked on my computer yesterday and today could not figure out the problem, so his solution was to wipe the hard drive and start over. I felt like I knew more about computers than he did, and it's his job!
-Eight is a lucky number here. At the bowling alley, if you bowled an 88, you won a small gift. If you bowled a 108, you won a small washtowel.
-Everyone knows that prostitution goes on in China. I haven't encountered it, and I hope not to, but apparently there are "hair salons" that only serve men with the blinds closed. If you bowled a 300 at the alley, you won "one card of fun time." I wonder what that is.
-My allergies are so much worse here than in the States. And no one says anything when I sneeze.
-I am still in the habit of nodding my head/waving/saying hello whenever I walk past people. They all just stare at me or look at me in fright. I need to stop being so polite!
-Speaking of politeness or lack thereof, it's perfectly normal to yell "fu wu yuan" ("waiter") across the room at your server in a restaurant. They don't tell you their names. And you don't tip.
My day was complicated when the power on my row of computers randomly shut down. When I powered back up, my internet was also down. As I described above, after a long and mostly pointless duration of clicking around, the IT guy finally just re-installed the default settings on the computer. (Luckily, at this time, I had my laptop also). Starting from scratch ended up working but left me workless for hours. I was happy to finally get an article about different types of Zongzi, a sticky rice dumpling wrapped in bamboo leaves that is tradition to eat at the Dragon Boat Festival that is next week in China. It was really interesting to read and edit. I would love to get paid to try out cuisines and write about them.
We had lunch at the cafeteria, which is across the Ring Road. It's buffet style, and in my opinion, pretty good. A fried egg here is still in the shape of an egg, but the outside is fried and covered in some kind of sauce. If all else fails, there's always rice. Always. The Chinese don't seem to drink anything with their meal except occasionally hot water. Which is so not my style. I'm beginning to miss never-ending ice water.
Celine came up to me near the end of the day and said, "So you heard about the seven day work week, right?" … "No," I said. "You will be working through Sunday because of the Dragon Boat Festival next week," she replied. What a way to start a new job! It's all good though. We're getting Monday through Wednesday off and only have to work two days next week. Turns out the festival
occurs on the fifth day of the fifth month of the lunar calendar, commemorating the famous Chinese scholar Qu Yuan. And everyone gets a day off for it - holla!
Courtney and I were feeling restless after work, so we went on a walk to the busier part of the district we live in. We peered into shop after shop all selling the same things - boxes of cigarettes or cleaning supplies. We passed some children sitting on crates playing cards, several hair salons with questionable sanitation (and services? See above), and table after table of working class Chinese people eating things on sticks. We finally went into a couple of shops with clothing. I kind of wanted it all, but a) I knew it was fake, b) I was too chicken to bargain down the high prices, and c) I don't speak Chinese. Next time I see something I really want, I'm gonna go for it. I did, however, find and purchase peanut butter and jelly - THANK GOD!
We picked up PA and Brian from the apartment for dinner at a noodle bar. You could watch the chef hand-pull the noodles, which made them seem even more delicious and satisfying.
One day closer to the end of my seven-day work week!
No comments:
Post a Comment