I've been here for eight months now and the weather is once again turning chilly.
Yesterday at the grocery store I bought that most perfect of perfect cold weather breakfast foods: oatmeal. This morning I used the pan that I brought from New York to cook a bowl of oatmeal, which I dressed with chopped pear and lemon honey. I sat in the sun on the patio afterward and ate my oatmeal, with half of a papaya on the side, while looking out at the trees. It was a perfect autumn breakfast.
I'm going to have to buy a saucepan and other cookware before I can cook much more, but decent quality items are difficult to find here. In the meantime, I can at least prepare breakfast at home.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Ayi
Along with moving into a new apartment comes a lot of cleaning. Even though I'm not really working right now I am busy, studying, attending events, doing research, socializing, etc. so rather than doing the cleaning myself it makes more sense to hire a cleaning woman to do it for me.
The word ayi has several connotations here, but two meanings are most common. One is 'auntie,' or a general honorific used to address any woman of your mother's generation or older. When I smile and wave at children in the park or on the subway their parents tell them to 'say hi to 'ayi,'' meaning me. My landlord also used the term to address my next door neighbor when they chatted through the window. The other meaning of ayi is a female helper - nanny, babysitter, cleaning woman. In China, when we speak about female help in the third person people don't usually use their name, just the word ayi.
The going rate for an ayi is 15 RMB (between $2 and $2.50) per hour. My friend who will be moving into the apartment has a great ayi that her grandmother knows, Mrs. Z, so she is here right now, dusting, mopping, wiping down the wooden furniture and doing other things that need to be done to keep the local dust and dirt at bay.
Now that I am living in my new home it's time for me to get serious about school again. Our next class is Business Statistics and we'll squeeze an entire semester's worth of stats into one week. I want to get the textbook, or at least the chapters that the professor plans to cover, read before class starts. I'm sitting at the living room table with the book in front of me now, as ayi is cleaning.
Most ayis in Beijing prefer to scrub floors on their hands and knees, but I was glad to see that Mrs. Z chose to use the mop that was among the cleaning supplies I bought last week. In the living room she mopped around and under me, with both of us laughing (at least part of my laughter being from discomfort at the idea that it probably looks like I'm being a lazy sod while she's working). After she finished mopping the entire apartment she came back to me and asked me to give her the slippers I was wearing so that she could wipe the bottoms of them - that way I won't track dust through the nice clean apartment when I get up. Then she brought the nicely cleaned slippers back to me so that I wouldn't need to walk around slipperless.
I feel spoiled, and completely bourgeois.
The word ayi has several connotations here, but two meanings are most common. One is 'auntie,' or a general honorific used to address any woman of your mother's generation or older. When I smile and wave at children in the park or on the subway their parents tell them to 'say hi to 'ayi,'' meaning me. My landlord also used the term to address my next door neighbor when they chatted through the window. The other meaning of ayi is a female helper - nanny, babysitter, cleaning woman. In China, when we speak about female help in the third person people don't usually use their name, just the word ayi.
The going rate for an ayi is 15 RMB (between $2 and $2.50) per hour. My friend who will be moving into the apartment has a great ayi that her grandmother knows, Mrs. Z, so she is here right now, dusting, mopping, wiping down the wooden furniture and doing other things that need to be done to keep the local dust and dirt at bay.
Now that I am living in my new home it's time for me to get serious about school again. Our next class is Business Statistics and we'll squeeze an entire semester's worth of stats into one week. I want to get the textbook, or at least the chapters that the professor plans to cover, read before class starts. I'm sitting at the living room table with the book in front of me now, as ayi is cleaning.
Most ayis in Beijing prefer to scrub floors on their hands and knees, but I was glad to see that Mrs. Z chose to use the mop that was among the cleaning supplies I bought last week. In the living room she mopped around and under me, with both of us laughing (at least part of my laughter being from discomfort at the idea that it probably looks like I'm being a lazy sod while she's working). After she finished mopping the entire apartment she came back to me and asked me to give her the slippers I was wearing so that she could wipe the bottoms of them - that way I won't track dust through the nice clean apartment when I get up. Then she brought the nicely cleaned slippers back to me so that I wouldn't need to walk around slipperless.
I feel spoiled, and completely bourgeois.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Debate
I've been living in the new apartment for a couple of days now but do not yet have internet.
A local bar called The Rickshaw is showing the CNN broadcast of the second Obama-McCain debate live, over breakfast. I'm sitting in a room full of Americans, about 30 of us, watching the debates and sharing comments while sitting under posters advertising Brooklyn lager.
A local bar called The Rickshaw is showing the CNN broadcast of the second Obama-McCain debate live, over breakfast. I'm sitting in a room full of Americans, about 30 of us, watching the debates and sharing comments while sitting under posters advertising Brooklyn lager.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Hong Kong Dollars
In Hong Kong, different banks still issue their own bills, which are legal tender and can be used anywhere in the country. At one time I had three twenty dollar bills, all drawn on different banks.
I'd heard of this previously but it seemed like something out of another time. Seeing the bills in my hands felt like seeing the history of currency .
Mr. Softee
There are some things that just seem to me to be purely American. A Mr. Softee truck is one of them, so it took me by surprise when I came across one on the streets of downtown Kowloon, in Hong Kong.
The serving size was small by American standards, and it was served in a sugar cone instead of the Mr. Softee standard waffle cone, but it was delicious nonetheless.
Ke Yi
After checking into my hotel room I wanted to log onto the internet to check email and post a blog entry but I wasn't able to get online. I called reception to inquire how I could connect.
A man answered in Chinese. I asked, in Chinese, if he speaks English: "Ni shuo Yingwen ma?"
His response? "Ke yi." (Yes.)
I should have expected it. Next time I'll just ask in English.
There are room charges for internet use. I'd rather go out and explore than sit here and surf the internet for the next couple of hours so I'll wait to post.
A man answered in Chinese. I asked, in Chinese, if he speaks English: "Ni shuo Yingwen ma?"
His response? "Ke yi." (Yes.)
I should have expected it. Next time I'll just ask in English.
There are room charges for internet use. I'd rather go out and explore than sit here and surf the internet for the next couple of hours so I'll wait to post.
Hong Kong is Green
My visa only allows me unlimited entries into China, for up to 120 days after each entry. Today is day 120 so I need to leave the country or risk penalties.
This morning I boarded a plane to Shenzhen, from the gorgeous and grand new Terminal 3 in Beijing airport. Today is the second day of a national week long holiday so many people are traveling. In the airport security line I ran into a friend who was on his way to Tibet. After arriving at Shenzhen airport I learned that there is only one ferry to Kowloon, in Hong Kong, each day and it does not leave until late afternoon. There are more ferries to the Hong Kong International Airport, but you must have a plane ticket or confirmation of a reservation to be allowed on. I want to be in HK before then then so I hopped onto a bus to the border. My first images of Shenzhen were of rows of backhoes and skyscrapers under construction, which I expected to see, and trees and flowers along the sides of the road and in the distance on the mountains, which I did not expect to see. The first sounds I heard after leaving the confines of the airport were of local workers with a Shenzhen accent.
The bus ends at the Shenzhen train and bus terminals, and the maze of walkways that leads to the border security check. At one point I went up to a police officer to ask directions. A Chinese couple who reached him before me had pulled out a notebook for him to write something down. I made a joke under my breathe in Putonghua (Mandarin), and they turned and excitedly asked me if I speak Chinese. "Yi dian dian," (a little) I said, and watched their faces fall. When Mandarin speakers think they can get me to translate from Cantonese I know I'm not in Beijing anymore.
More tunnels, lined with stalls selling SIM cards and phones and food and all manner of other things, led to the border checkpoint. It felt a bit like Times Square, circa 1992, so I held my bag tight. Exiting China and entering Hong Kong were quick, taking about 15 minutes. The most noteworthy part of it was that the Hong Kong immigration officer, a woman, smiled at me as she took my passport. Chinese immigration officer did not like my passport and shot me dirty looks so I was happily surprised at my welcome into Hong Kong.
After stopping to exchange some Chinese Renminbi into Hong Kong Dollars I stopped at a bakery and picked up a portuguese egg tart. It was a yummy first bike of Hong Kong. Then I joined the queue at a ticket machine and bought a first class ticket to Kowloon on the Hong Kong MTR (Mass Transit Railway). The first class car is clean, has comfortably cushioned seats, and is air-conditioned. The train pulled out of the station into an expanse of green, tree covered hills, with occasional blocks of residential buildings, on its way towards the urban expanse of downtown Hong Kong.
There's a lot of green.
This morning I boarded a plane to Shenzhen, from the gorgeous and grand new Terminal 3 in Beijing airport. Today is the second day of a national week long holiday so many people are traveling. In the airport security line I ran into a friend who was on his way to Tibet. After arriving at Shenzhen airport I learned that there is only one ferry to Kowloon, in Hong Kong, each day and it does not leave until late afternoon. There are more ferries to the Hong Kong International Airport, but you must have a plane ticket or confirmation of a reservation to be allowed on. I want to be in HK before then then so I hopped onto a bus to the border. My first images of Shenzhen were of rows of backhoes and skyscrapers under construction, which I expected to see, and trees and flowers along the sides of the road and in the distance on the mountains, which I did not expect to see. The first sounds I heard after leaving the confines of the airport were of local workers with a Shenzhen accent.
The bus ends at the Shenzhen train and bus terminals, and the maze of walkways that leads to the border security check. At one point I went up to a police officer to ask directions. A Chinese couple who reached him before me had pulled out a notebook for him to write something down. I made a joke under my breathe in Putonghua (Mandarin), and they turned and excitedly asked me if I speak Chinese. "Yi dian dian," (a little) I said, and watched their faces fall. When Mandarin speakers think they can get me to translate from Cantonese I know I'm not in Beijing anymore.
More tunnels, lined with stalls selling SIM cards and phones and food and all manner of other things, led to the border checkpoint. It felt a bit like Times Square, circa 1992, so I held my bag tight. Exiting China and entering Hong Kong were quick, taking about 15 minutes. The most noteworthy part of it was that the Hong Kong immigration officer, a woman, smiled at me as she took my passport. Chinese immigration officer did not like my passport and shot me dirty looks so I was happily surprised at my welcome into Hong Kong.
After stopping to exchange some Chinese Renminbi into Hong Kong Dollars I stopped at a bakery and picked up a portuguese egg tart. It was a yummy first bike of Hong Kong. Then I joined the queue at a ticket machine and bought a first class ticket to Kowloon on the Hong Kong MTR (Mass Transit Railway). The first class car is clean, has comfortably cushioned seats, and is air-conditioned. The train pulled out of the station into an expanse of green, tree covered hills, with occasional blocks of residential buildings, on its way towards the urban expanse of downtown Hong Kong.
There's a lot of green.
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