Abandon the Cube
O
ur favorite Cube Abandoner Mike B is turning old. His first grey hairs made an appearance this year, as did sore joints in the cold and a grouchy outlook on the next generation, which he affectionately calls an “undisciplined horde.”
If you’re in Beijing, pop into 12sqm Bar & Cafe on Saturday the 25th to say happy birthday to this world-traveler turned publican.
http://www.twelvesqm.com
We leave China today. Here is a list of the top ten things we’ll really miss about China:
Window Washers
Pudong, Shanghai
the building entrance and doorways. In our first apartment we brought the guards gifts on Chinese holidays. They were always happy to see us and fun to be around. In our second apartment we dropped off beer one evening for them and they never stopped smiling and waving at us after.
So, as we chug away on our train today, it will be a bitter sweet good-bye as we remember the things we’ll miss, but look forward to the excitement of the road ahead.
Our apartment
As we pack up our apartment I’m reminded of when we first moved to China and began looking for a place to live. The process of apartment hunting in China is vastly different than in the States. Here, you find a local agent in the area you want to live and go to their office. You describe what you want in an apartment to the tiniest detail. While you wait (“would you like more tea, sir?”) they search online listings and their own reserve of available housing. After a half hour or so of searching and phone calls the realtor puts on his or her jacket and you march of, always on foot, to view the apartment. You arrive at the apartment and it is in shambles. In the US, realtors ensure the house is looking its very best before they show it. In China, you must see potential instead of beauty. One apartment we saw was so filthy we left footprints in the grime and dust as we perused the layout. Another apartment we viewed was covered in moldy, dirty dishes and overturned furniture. It was as if the residents quickly packed a few belongings and ran out in a hurry.
We saw about ten apartments before we found one we liked. We were shown several apartments that did not meet our criteria because the realtor gets paid by how many times he can show a place. Once you express interest the landlord and the realtor begin to scream at each other over price, additional fixtures, cleaning, etc. After an initial bartering phase the realtor reports that the lowest the landlord will go is, for example, 5,000RMB. You act offended and counter, naturally, with 4,000RMB. The landlord pretends not to hear you. Once the realtor turns and gives the counter-offer to the landlord he or she erupts in a stream of rationalizations for the 5,000RMB price. Eventually (after much bartering) the price is settled around 4,300RMB with a few extras like a cleaning crew to sweep through and a replacement chair for the office.
Now comes the tricky part. Money needs to be exchanged on the spot or else the landlord will not hold the apartment. Usually one month rent is put on the table. The realtor takes the money to appease both parties. The whole process takes less than half an hour. A move in date is set and when the happy day arrives the realtor emerges with contracts, candies, your deposit and a big smile – the realtor’s fee is one month’s rent split between the landlord and the renter.
There are, of course, apartment postings on craigslist and other expat sites. But usually these are more expensive and it is a bit harder to find someone who will sign on the spot. We recommend playing along with local custom and finding a local realtor. If a realtor does not find you an apartment you like you do not owe them anything. They only get paid if they please you, and the landlords whose apartments they show. The downside is that the realtor has no incentive to help you barter down the price, as he is merely helping to lower his commission.
For a two bedroom in Shanghai on a subway line we paid 4,300RMB a month. The
place was western in style with a tub, fully-stocked kitchen, wrap around sofa and big screen and an office. Our last apartment in China was tiny, with a fold our bed and a kitchen that stretched into our laps in the living room at a price of 3,000RMB a month. Our first apartment in Beijing had no toilet and a sink that spewed brown liquid and tiny insects but cost only 1,200RMB a month. So, you can find something at every price range here.
A few days ago our kitchen sink began to leak and we had quite the adventure as the landlord’s mother and several other randoms arrived to ‘fix’ the problem. So, when the back of the toilet at our Chinese rental apartment began to run we bean to panic. Obviously the float was broken. I poked around inside the back trying to remember what my grandfather had taught me about plumbing. The pieces are completely different here and the floating thing that stops the water is a non-existent part of the Chinese design.
I called the landlord and asked him to have a plumber come over, but not to send the whole crew of voyeurs this time. Naturally he responded that the whole army of curious bystanders would arrive between 8 and 9 the following morning.
At 7am I sat bolt upright in bed. Last time they came over the plumber flooded the floor near an outlet and nearly killed three people via electrocution. All night I had horrible dreams about people frying. I went into the bathroom, unplugged everything and went back to bed.
At 8:30 there was a knock at the door and two strangers and the landlord filed past me and into the kitchen. I redirected them to the bathroom and the three of them starred at the back of the toilet. Chinese usually use squat pots, so the site of the upright was a bit confusing for the plumber. I could empathize.
Half an hour later the three emerged, turned off the water to the apartment and left to buy a new part. I went into the bathroom. They had flooded the entire floor and mopped it up with a towel into the tub. At least I knew what to expect this time! Apparently flooding is part of the process.
I left the apartment after talking with the landlord who explained they would be back at 3pm. In a building with no water 6 hours is a long time. I went to breakfast with a friend, ran some errands and returned at 2pm to find the problem fixed. Part two was much better than the nearly lethal part one!
-Posted by Lauren.
On the last day of our four day trip to HuangShan we were exhausted! We climbed down the entire mountain in one fell swoop, the details of this trek are etched into the backs of my eyes. Having finally made it to the bottom and had a nice night’s rest in a real bed, we woke up refreshed in the morning and had a nice buffet breakfast at the Best Western where we had happened to find lodging.
Labeled a 5 star hotel, the Best Western at the base of HuangShan could have been a tent with a mattress and I would have called it five star worthy, but this place deserved the stars even for the non travel weary. With rolling gardens sprawled across the estate and a wayward rock bridge crossing the valley before out hotel window, we were delighted.
After checking out of the hotel we wandered to the nearby spa (affiliated with the hotel for branding) and signed right up for the all inclusive hot spring afternoon for 169RMB. We put on our suits, downed some red tea and emerged in an Eden-like paradise! We were led to a large natural hot spring where staff waited on our beck and call while we lounged in the natural water and let the jets relax our aching muscles.
After a nice soak in the natural water we were led to a smaller pool full of liquor. The water smelled of booze, but the staff informed us that it was good for healing blemishes and making clear skin.
From here we were led to a pool of 40 degree water with coffee grounds in it. Literally a giant coffee cup roasting humans along with beans. We dunked in momentarily, having heard it was good for hair shine.
After the coffee we submerged ourselves more calmly in a slightly cooler pool of milk water. This was said to whiten and soften the skin. Set under a cherry blossom tree, we found ourselves in the shade and isolated, it was calming and beautiful, and we were the only people in the whole spa aside from staff.
From the milk we were dunked in red wine heated to 32 degrees. This was a pleasant spot as well, where we could hear water trickling and smell the grapes in the water.
There were several natural pools of various temperatures that did not contain anything other than water, though one contained salt. After several of these we were led to a very shallow pool where we had to sign a waiver.
Stepping into the pool I shrieked as loudly as I’m able (quite ear-splitting, actually) and nearly walked on water until I was standing on level ground. The staff roared in laughter and we read the sign next to the pool. The shallow water contained hundreds of tiny fish who were to eat dead skin off your feet and legs. I watched while Mike submerged his legs and continued to watch as they vanished around a pool of tiny green and blue fish. I returned to a natural pool and read a book for a while as Mike submerged his entire body into the fish tank. Mini Parana are not my idea of spa treatment, but it was interesting to watch!
Finally, after several hours at the spa we left, hired a random Huangshan native to drive us in his car to the train station, and spent a sleepless night on the overnight train back to Shanghai.
-Posted by Lauren.
On Friday our sink began to leak, we cleaned up the mess and contacted our landlord. The landlord (who speaks amazing English and is hilariously named Peter Pan) was supposed to arrive Sunday evening. He declined at the last moment and changed the sink-fixing appointment to the next morning when his elderly mother would accompany the plumber to the house.
At 9:30 on the dot the grandma arrived with a small contingent of spectators and a plumber direct out of high school. She introduced me as “the foreigner! Look, she can speak!” to which her elderly comrades began to roar in laughter and sing in unison “ting by dong! ting bu dong!”
Meanwhile, the boy began by saying that it was only a small leak, and putting a bucket under it and then emptying the contents daily would suffice. Why had I woken him up so early for an un-urgent problem?
While I was talking with the plumber about our differing opinions of severity, the grandmother was going through the drawers in the bathroom, pulling out odd objects (floss, whats this?) and commenting on things were disorganized. Her compatriots followed closely behind her as she inspected every item in every private drawer in the bathroom, laughing periodically.
After checking on the grandma after one particularly loud roaring laughter session (they had discovered Mike’s cologne and were spraying it on each other) I went to watch the kid fiddle around with the M.C Escher mess that was the piping under the sink. Having just read A Brief History of Time by Steven Hawking, Mike believed the arrangement under the sink was ‘infinitely illogical’ or the ‘singularity within a black hole where no light can be found.’ The kid filled both sinks with water and then watched them slowly drain. He squatted down and pulled out a wood saw and then proceeded to saw through the plastic piping at a rather odd juncture. Suddenly, water began to pour from the pipes (the sinks were, after all).
The grandma dropped my toothbrush and her accomplices put down mike’s razor and hair trimmer and together they ran into the kitchen, by the time they got there the room was flooded in a solid inch or more of dirty dish water. I sprinted to the circuit breaker and madly flipped all the switches. Our kitchen, being a black hole of logic, has wires, outlets and plugs along the floor.
By the time I got back into the kitchen they were all laughing and using our towles to mop up the water and then ring out the towels into the sink, which then drained on to the floor. I burts into laughter so uncontrolable I teared up at one point. After my laughing attach had subsided I brough in a bucket to ring the towles into. Together the grandma, her accomplace (with several of my toohpicks protruding from his pocket) and I began to ring out towels into the bucket together. The grandma, by now, had collected every towel in the apartment for the effort, and a large pile of colorful towels covered in rust, moldy food and sink water was leaning up against an outlet in the corner of the kitchen. Would we all have been electrocuted had the power been on? I found myself analyzing everyone’s shoes. Were they rubbery enough? How does that work exactly?
Eventually the kid sealed the pipe with an inordinate amount of caulking (and wads of damp toilet paper which the grandma’s accomplice had suggested), he then tied the weighted-down pipe to another weighted-down pipe to releave some of the stress. He walked out of the house in an embaressed huff as did Grandma’s sidekick when he realized he might have to help if he lingered. She was left to finish cleaning up the mess alone but smiling. I went in and helped her ring out towels and clean up under the sink.
Priority now: wash towels
Hilarity level: 7
-Posted by Lauren.
In the morning we set off again to find the complete opposite of the previous day’s hike. The paths were congested with people and there was screaming, yelling, pushing and more screaming. It was like being back on the Shanghai subways. We forged ahead and eventually broke into a relatively quiet space between two rather large groups about 100m to the front and rear of us. We hiked all morning after watching the sunrise and eventually came to Lotus Flower Peak, the highest point of the mountain range at over 2000m. After climbing stairs that were carved into a sheer rock cliff, with both hands and feet on the steps, we eventually summited the peak where we found an old old woman selling noodles. How she got up there is a mystery, as there are only the stairs. Throughout the hike we had been passed by several elderly folks who giggled as they marched past us while we huffed and puffed up the mountain.
Climbing
After summiting the highest point we followed the steps around to the back of the mountain and down to Celestial Capital peak, the second highest peak. Due to ice, the mountain was closed. We had been planning on spending the night at a hostel that was built into the side of the cliff wall on the opposite face of Celestial Capital, but with the mountain closed we were faced with two options. 1) climb down the entire mountain and spend the second night at the base, or 2) explore the summit and then take the cable car down in the morning. Amid a wave of screaming and pushing from locals and tourists we decided, quite quickly, to leave the crowd and set off down the Western steps of the mountain.
The steps down were steeper than the steps up, and further apart. With one bad knee it wasn’t long before I felt my poor knee screaming at me to rest. With no where to go except back up or all the way down, we pushed forward with the sun rapidly setting behind us. A cane salesman half way down the hill was only too happy to part with a wooden stick which he sold for 5Rmb to me as I hobbled up to his lonley booth. With the aid of the cane I was hobbling along at a speedy rate of a snail. However, throughout the descent we played the tortoise and the hare, as groups rushed past us only to stop exhausted and covered in sweat at each resting point where we slowly hobbeled past without pause. It was a trial, but one with amazing scenery and it was a beautiful and throughout the trip there were subtle surprises like a tiny waterfall or a neon bird that kept my eyes glued to the bamboo forest.
Once at the base I looked at the pedometer I had been wearing since 6 that morning. 13, 561 steps from the hostel to the temple at the bottom of the hill. That’s over 6.2 miles of sheer steps going straight down. The day before we walked 3.8miles going straight up (and then took the cable car when dusk approached). We stepped off our final stair, with the aid of the cane, at 4pm and caught a bus to the closest town. At the town we were lucky enough to find a Best Western. Ironically, we were looking for the hot springs and decided to check into the hotel to shower and change and rest for a bit before setting out to find the springs. During our check in we were informed that the hot springs were not part of the hotel. How fortunate for us, because we would have wandered all over the mountain side looking for a natural spring. We checked in, ate dinner, cleaned up and promptly passed out.
In the morning we were in for a real treat.
-Posted by Lauren.
We returned today from a four day trip to HuangShan, Yellow Mountain, in Anhui province, China.
On Friday the 13th we boarded the nightly slow train to Anhui at 10:00pm. We were in a crowded sleeper car with about seventy other adventurers on their way to the mountain. Everyone was wearing hiking boots and had Canon cameras around their necks. Since it had been raining the past few weeks, everyone had a rain jacket strapped to their bags. We settled in and fell promptly asleep after a few games of cribbage, and listened to the sounds of our fellow cabin mates playing poker until the early morning.
At 5:00am I woke to the sounds of laughter- our cabin mates were gambling again already. I pulled out my book and read for a while before descending from the top bunk (they are three high in mini rooms of 6 beds) and found a seat along the hall where I watched the scenery change from the flat, coastal farmland around Shanghai to the rolling, rocky hills of Anhui province. We arrived at the HuangShan train station at 10:00am.
After buying our return tickets to Shanghai for the following Monday evening, we were accosted by dozens of men and women eager to sell us anything we might desire. One such promiser was a middle-aged woman who offered a ride to the base of the mountain for 15Rmb. We agreed, as this is how things are generally done around China, and hopped in the back of her 6 person mini-van. Ten minutes later the van had 10 people in it and we were bumping along at 70 miles an hour. An elderly woman with purple hair tapped Mike on the shoulder every few minutes asking his age, or my occupation, or his dental plans, or if I wanted a boy or girl child. The van stopped in a town at the base of the mountain, but several hours hike from the start of the mountain trails. We got in another mini van, the driver of which was quite possibly drunk, and took off down a winding road of switchbacks until we finally arrived, mid vomit, at the entrance to the Nine Dragon Falls. Though this was not the gate we had asked to be taken to, the falls looked beautiful so we went in after the ticket lady (all of 14) assured us we could connect with a seldom used trail to the main route.
The falls defied beauty and went into the realm of nirvana. We were alone on the trails, which were often little more than a few granite stones pointing the way, and we stopped often to feel the water, take pictures or explore areas off the path. By 2pm we were hardly half way to the halfway point, and sped up our pace a bit as we hiked through endless bamboo forests. Around 3pm we stepped off the granite path and onto a black-top road, shocked to discover that there was an auto-route up the mountain. Also at this intersection was a cable car that would deliver people and cargo to the base of the summit. As the sun was going to set soon, we hopped a ride on the cable car for 10USD.
The cable car ride was, in a word, magical. From the bamboo and palm tree waterfalls and turquoise ponds the lift heaved us up into a frozen paradise, where trees looked like crystal and sidewalks looked like glass. When we stepped off the lift a surreal feeling fell over us, and there was a long silence as we walked around touching the ice and rubbing our hands together.
We explored the various peaks around the summit until well into the evening, and then discovered that the hotels on the summit cost more than I make in a month. We walked out of each hotel a little more worried until a plump little man approached us and said “100 Rmb hostel?” to which we replied, “YES!”
The room was a cement square with a cement roof and cement floor. Four wooden beds lined the walls. In all, it was smaller than the compartment on our overnight train and had no bathroom, running water or heat. It was negative 3. We bought the whole room, which was 300Rmb, and then put all the blankets on one bed to try to keep warm. A party of hikers bought out the rest of the building and stayed up all night gambling and screaming, singing and drinking. We lay awake all night shivering, cursing and then laughing. It was easy to get out of that bed and that cement coffin of a hostel to go see the sunrise at 5:30am.
The sun peaked out over the hills and light flooded the valley in waves of orange, red and then blue. It was beautiful, except for the hundreds of other spectators who were screaming, waving bells and trying to hear their own echoes in the early morning valleys.
After a nice breakfast at the spendy hotel we packed our bags, big adieu to the stout cement square owner and set off for a day of summiting the various peaks of HuangShan.
-Posted by Lauren.
Yellow Mountain
Today we’re heading to HuangShan, yellow mountain, in Anhui province. This is the most famous of the five sacred mountains of China, and the filming location of endless Chinese epics (including some scenes in Flying Dragon, Sleeping Tiger, or whatever its called). With some advise from friends (Thanks T&L!) we’re planning on hiking up the four trillion steps on one side, and then descending on the other side, having spent the night in a hostel on the top of the mountain. There are hot springs at the base of the mountain and endless hiking paths along the many ridges.
The train takes between 9 and eleven hours to get from Shanghai to HuangShan, so we’re leaving tonight, Friday the 13th, at 10:00pm and arriving in the morning at the base of the mountain. We’re only bringing a few changes of clothes, a cribbage board, my camera and notebooks. It will be very nice to get away from the noise, smog and hustle of the city in exchange for the bird chirping and rain falling sounds of the mountain.
When we get back we’ll have less than a month before we depart on the ‘Shanghai to the Caspian’ trip. This is a good warm up.
-Posted by Lauren.
We recently moved into a new apartment because there were “health issues” with our last place. Walking around the Shanghai alleys around our new building we discovered a quaint little restaurant called “The Public Chicken.” Curious, and starving from the unpacking we’d been doing all afternoon, we took a seat in the middle of the oblong shaped room and waited. A friendly elderly woman approached with a list of ingredients and we quickly realized it was a hot pot place with tiny burners brought out to your table and a small, water-based stew put atop wherein you dunked various foods to cook. We ordered a pot and some mutton and veggies to dunk and then sat back and watched the people around us eat.
Dinner
After several minutes the elderly woman with the friendly features returned with a pot full of spices, herbs and pre-cooked veggies boiling wildly in the stew. I stuck my chopsticks into the pot and pulled out a small white flap with black spots. I turned it over in my chopsticks and smelled the mystery substance. Thinking it was a type of colorful seaweed I placed it back in the pot and poked around a bit more.We put in the fresh veggies and mutton and then waited while it boiled. The tomatoes and potatoes were especially tasty, and we wolfed them down soon after they were finished cooking.
Digging around the pot with my chopsticks I found another flap of white with black spots, I examined it more closely, bringing it up to my eyes for a clearer view. I heard a gasp and looked up. From the other side of the table Mike held up a small white hand that was grasped firmly around his chopstick, the nails digging into the wood. My whole body began to shake and Mike yelled, “is that a damn hand?” as he tossed it back into the pot. By now I was shaking and laughing out of wild fear. He regained his composure while I sat shaking and then went trolling for other body parts. Atop the boiling veggies Mike assembled the puzzle pieces of a large white and black frog, complete with head, tail and four precious little hands boiled into a gripping position. I watched silently out as he assembled his grotesque puzzle, wondering how many frog parts I’d already eaten.
Despite being one of the more disgusting things to boil to the surface of a pot I’d been eating out of, the meal itself was quite tasty. Apparently frog is a nice seasoning for fresh vegetables. I doubt I’ll eagerly reenter the Public Chicken (especially since it was devoid of Chicken and my imagination has already run rampant on what a kitchen full of frogs looks like) it was an experience to remember. Right up there with eating dog in Mongolia and seahorse in Beijing.
Image from the famed 1980's movie - The Princess Bride
We all remember this scene right? When the Six-Fingered Man turns the water wheel and Wesley convulses in pain? “I’ve just sucked away one year of your life. How does that make you feel?” Wesley whimpers and the Six Fingered Man responds, “Pity.”
This is how I feel about China’s air quality. As Lauren and I approach our 1 year anniversary of moving to Shanghai (February 16th), and Winter colds and coughs are dissipating, I have been considering the toll we are paying for breathing in this air. Chinese New Year was a blessing of one week’s worth of fresh air, blue sky and sunshine as all the the factories closed for the festival; albeit, some of it was replaced with very high levels of sulfur from some of the most amazing fireworks displays I’ve ever seen.
I was amazed to see the moon and stars, which I have missed a lot since I moved here. Maybe comparing China’s air quality to the Six Fingered Man’s Life Sucking Water Wheel of Death is a little extreme, but those of you who know me also come to expect these urges I have to be irrationally sarcastic. But is it that extreme? – Oh, did I mention stubborn?
A few weeks ago I read an article on CNN about the last two decade’s Drop in US Air Pollution Linked to Longer Lifespans. Hilariously blocked by the Chinese firewall, this article argues the statistical proof that the decrease in the United States’ air pollution has increased life expectancy by 5 months since the 1980’s. This is absolutely mind-blowing as I can’t even imagine what I am breathing in comparison to…let’s say New York or Los Angeles? China’s air quality and Shanghai’s air pollution must be at least 2-3 times that of the states (Randomly Generated Facts, pg. 486).
The New England Journal of Medicine, a little more reliable than CNN, has an article with staggering facts about air pollution and your health. Now that we have moved to a new apartment, I think it is time to by an air purifier as well to curb the Water Wheel of Death that is China’s air quality. Please check back for my next post: The ROUS (Rodents of Unusual Size) – The Panda. Just kidding, only one Princess Bride themed post each year.
Its official. I was laid of on the 31st of December while on vacation in Beijing. I found out via an emailed letter from an employee I’d never met in London in the HR department. No explanation was given except for the “unfavorable economic situation.” Several others in our office (7 in total…. so far) have been laid off. Two additional staff were let go today…. literally three days before the biggest holiday and family celebration in China- the New Year. I will, I swear, never work for a bank again. They do not treat people like humans, and have no rhyme or reason for their crude and inhuman behavior. Its unforgivable how they have treated people, and it is a product of the industry as a whole. Shame on you, banking community, for being such *&#*&@_$s.
On the inverse, I’ve spent the entire month painting, reading and generally enjoying Shanghai’s city-scene. Its been liberating painting again, something I’d taken a break from for over a year for lack of time. Its a shame to let one’s hobbies go by the wayside. I’ve started a massive “History of Civilizations” book that is fascinating.
working
We are also busy apartment hunting. We found one we really loved, but as we were just settling our final negotations the realitor called to say that someone else had swept in with more money and taken it. It was a devistating moment, as now we are back to square one on the apartment hunt. Meanwhile, of of possibly bigger importance, the job hunt is stalling as no one will hire prior to the Chinese New Year.
Last night we all stayed up late to watch Obama get sword into office. It was a good moment in American history, and I am glad that the country is willing to work to reestablish our reputation as a moral country with humble power. I hope this president will roll up his sleeves and solve a few problems. I’m holding out for the best — we’ll see!
-posted by lauren.
HUtong
For the holidays this year my little sister flew into China via our week together with our brother in Japan. We took a break to hang out in Shanghai, even sticking it out over Christmas- when we climbed to the top of the JinMao Tower and walked around both the east and west banks of the Bund, before shopping and grabbing a nice Chinese meal for Christmas dinner.After the festivities of taking morning pictures we decided to trek to the Shanghai train station where we purchased tickets to Beijing the following Saturday.
The night trains are the only way to travel in China. You board in the evening (ours was at 8:30pm) and arrive the following morning after a night in a tiny bunk 12 feet off the ground, ready for your next adventure. Once in Beijing, we strolled to Tienanmen Square to gaze at the smog filled walkway and gateway to the Forbidden City. Afterwords we headed to a friend’s house, where we dropped off our heavy packs and then ventured out again to HouHai Lake, in Northwestern Beijing. The lake was frozen over, and skaters skidded across the ice, unsure of themselves. We strolled around watching them slip and slide about the lake before eating a massive Chinese dinner and heading to Sanlitun, the bar street, where we picked a quiet place for a few quick drinks before the long walk home.
The next day we saw the Forbidden City- a wonderfully intricate red, green and blue structure where emperors had once ruled. Two years in China, and I’d never been! I was happy to walk around the frozen palace, though the wind burn began to make smiling difficult after the first two hours. We then headed to Yashou– a shopping mall for antiques and other nick-nacks where we had foot massages to heal our sore feet. In all, we had walked 13 hours that day.
The following morning we relaxed a bit and headed to the Temple of Heavenly Peace, where we walked for hours around the gardens, surrounded by black crows and a few other brave tourists. We then did a self guided tour of the rebuilt hutongs along south Tienanmen.
The next morning was the 31st- the last day of 2008- and we got on an early morning bus to Badaling, a section of the Great Wall quite near Beijing. We arrived to freezing winds and very few tourists, and for the majority of the hike we were alone on the wall. The Great Wall is really more of a climbing ediphis than anything meant to keep someone else out. Beautiful though. After a quick nap we headed back out to Tienanmen for New Year’s Eve, where we assembled at the entryway of the Forbidden City with others celebrating the new year, and counted down to midnight in unison before cheering, hugging and then heading home for a night of much needed sleep.
The night train back to Shanghai was as old and rickety as the one we had been on a week earlier. I love the train, and slept fitfully but happily, it was in all a very fulfilling trip, and a great way to spend the New Years!
-posted by lauren.
Winter
I have been living in China for almost a year now and, although my previous journeys here have enlightened, or embittered, I have a few things I would like to say before I go home for the holidays. I remember the words that left my mouth repeatedly when I left for Shanghai last February, “I’ll be home for Christmas.” This is true; I leave next Monday and will be home for three weeks. As I sit here in my cold Shanghai cubicle looking out the window, I see all the cars buzzing on the streets below honking their horns at yellow plumes of smog in the beams of their Lexus’ headlights, and I realize how much I now find ordinary. I used to walk down the street in the morning looking with my mouth agape at some of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen in my entirely short life.
China is the place to go to see people carrying the most random objects imaginable. I once saw a man waiting in the customs line to get into China from Hong Kong with nothing in his hands but a toilet seat. I couldn’t begin to imagine what exactly he needed that for, or why he went to Hong Kong to get it, but all I could think of was, “he is really going to be pissed when he finds out there’s no toilet paper.” When I’m not dodging street cars driving on the sidewalk or eating skewered fried tentacles from street venders, I’m watching a woman sweep up dirt on a dirt road or a man selling bananas next to a row of eight other banana vendors.
Just so we understand each other, I am not looking out over the city from my luxurious executive Shanghai office suite. I am working in China looking down from a cheap converted apartment building, which we use as an office. There are several rooms with ugly yellow Chinese cubicles strewn about. There are a few office plants, a water jug, and one air conditioner / heater installed in each room. One would be hard pressed to find central air in most Chinese buildings and it is hard to heat the ones that don’t have it installed. The tips of my kneecaps are as numb and there is a draft like you wouldn’t believe coming from the unsealed windows. Ah…Shanghai. The jewel of China, the most advanced and modernized city in all of the PRC.
It will be great to be back in America for a few weeks. I am almost worried I will not be able to function properly in such alien surroundings. Fresh air, wide open spaces without people trying to sell you stuff, English speakers, cars that drive on streets and not the sidewalks, toilet seats, toilet paper, and yes…the single banana stand located next to the other fruit in the one grocery store near my home. All I want for Christmas is some time with my family and friends, and to experience all the things I remember I used to enjoy like open air, Mom’s food, and true silence that I can only find at around 2 AM on the porch of my parents home in the country.
-posted by Mike.
The cab pulled up to the airport at 6:00am. I managed to get the door open and throw a handful of crumpled bills to the driver before puking. He removed my bag from the trunk, tossed me a handful of change and sped off amid a swirl of dust, pollution and freshly splattered vomit.
I left China on a solo flight to Okinawa on the 4th of December, and arrived (thanks to time differences) fifty minutes after I’d left the Middle Kingdom. My stomach had settled on the flight– Shanghai cab drivers are notorious for their shifty driving, and my cab to the airport had been a test to the durability of my stomach lining.
It was freezing when I boarded my plane to the beautiful Japanese island of Okinawa, and when I stepped on to the tarmac at the smallest airport I had ever seen (yes! Smaller then Ghengas Khan Airport in Mongolia!) to a warm bath of sunlight that was over 70 degrees.
I was held in customs for over an hour as they carefully searched every wrapped present, and then re-wrapped them. Having landed safely I was now on vacation, and in no hurry to go anywhere. I sat and chatted with the guards while my bags were searched and they plesently let me leave once they grew bored with my strange array of gifts all wrapped in Chinese newspaper.
Outside I saw a handsome young Marine stepping from a cab and rushed towards my brother. I had not seen him in a year, and in that time he had gone from boy to man as a member of the US military. We jumped back in the cab and were calmly and professionally delivered back to the military base where my brother showed me around his barracks, his base, and then the pool hall and bar.
We chatted, goofed around and easily fell back into the sister-brother relationship. After a while we boarded a bus to another military base where we had reserved a few cabins for our family for the week– directly on Oura Wan beach. This was my first tropical adventure, the furthest south I’d ever been, the first sandy warm beach I’d ever seen and the first time I’d visited my brother as an adult. It was going to be an amazing trip, and I could tell as we sat on the bus joking around and watching the sun set over the clearest blue/green water I’d ever seen. I’m a long way from the dusty streets of Shanghai now.
-Posted by Lauren.
The China job market is still booming. People all over the U.S. are losing their jobs as corporate cutbacks, layoffs, and budget cuts threaten their bottom lines. The job loss trickle down of the economic slump, although having pierced the Asian markets triggering stock drops, has not yet reached the China job market. Although the Chinese economy is in the red big-time for the year, jobs are available in many different companies throughout China’s major cities, both foreign and domestic. I myself have just transferred from a Chinese company to a rapidly growing (Hong Kong registered) Australian company.
A very reliable source, my Mother and her avid reading of Readers Digest, argues that my Generation – Generation Y – is the first generation to consider the possibility that there are other countries better than the United States. Now, I am by no means saying that China is the answer nor am I saying that that statement is true. But I do agree that I have pondered the possibility for reasons and tangents I will save for another post. Either way, if you are interested in experiencing a culture, environment, and job market that is unlike anything you have ever seen and are looking for an experience that will benefit you in years to come…China may be the right place for you. The top 5 best ways to make this happen are:
1) The ultimate and absolutely best, and safest way, to work in China is to be sent here by your current company. Although this may not be true if you are interested in learning about the culture, language, and gaining personal growth through ridiculous endeavors. However, if you want to live in a developing country in which pretty much everything is dirt cheap with the exception of your luxury apartment, personal driver, maid, and chef – which your company pays for anyway, this is the wet dream of almost everyone who is here under completely different circumstances. Also, you usually will be paid a ridiculous sum of money plus hazard pay to move here.
Shanghai
2) Teach English. If only a job is what you want, about 1 billion await for you my friend. Open any search engine right now and type in, “teach English in China.” If you don’t find anything you probably should never reproduce, or teach, because you must have spelled something wrong. You can get paid anywhere from 4000 RMB a month in rural areas, 6000-8000 in large cities of China, and 10,000+ if you have a degree and ESL certification. This is pure, and should be, untaxed profit. Usually you would receive travel, living, and apartment money as well. It is a great way to learn Chinese and decide whether or not you could stand living here long enough to have a career before you gouging your eyes out and your head explodes.
3) Next, you will have to turn to the website job posts. www.asiaexpat.Com has one of the better online listings for different job offerings in specific cities and their local websites are frequently trafficked. They have a large array of many different fields from the entry level to the executive. For the most part, do not expect to be paid the equivalent of foreign salaries through these jobs, but they offer great starting points and experience for those who are new to the international career world.
4) Then you have other career and expat living magazines and websites like That’s Shanghai, The Beijinger and so on and so forth. These provide tips on living in the cities, services available, dating, and pretty much anything you can think of. However, these sites have not been used for headhunting as much as they have been in the past.
5) Last, and by far not least, another great way to get jobs in China is relationships (关系). This is a huge aspect of Chinese culture. Almost every Chinese business deal hinges on being friends first and trusting one another. This aspect of Chinese culture has affected many expats living here as well. This invaluable means of advancing ones career happens very frequently to expats who reside in a city for a semi-extended period of time. Most people don’t stay here forever, which means that there are constantly openings in companies all over China.
If you are interested in moving to China or have questions about living, working, or finding work here. Please feel free to contact us and we will be more than happy to help you out. You can also read more about our lives in Shanghai.
In Shanghai, at 7:30am on the 5th of November (8pm on Tuesday on the east coast of the USA), over a hundred tired but eager Americans sauntered into Malone’s Bar, an American establishment, to watch the CNN election results. We had taken the day off work to gather together as strangers to witness what many of us knew would be a historic occasion. As the bar slowly began to fill with diverse faces in an array of colors and ages, I began to shake with anticipation (perhaps from the coffee, but also from the idea that this day could change American history forever). By 8am CNN was gearing up for the close of the first east coast polls, and the first projections came in amid cheers.
A young black lady in an Obama T-shirt handed out posters of the candidate while circling the bar, patting recipients on the back with a friendly, ‘good for you’ whenever someone raised their hand for a poster. In China, where racism is strong, her very existence in the city was encouraging.
A full breakfast platter was 88Rmb, an auspicious and lucky number in China, and a sign for the candidate’s performance later that day. We ate heartedly, drank tea and American coffee and watched as the results rolled in amid holograms and virtual capital pop-ups.
In my life there have been two political experiences that have made me shake with emotion and a precise fear of the unknown. The first was in 2001, when I stood outside an empty classroom wondering where the other students were before a tired and red-eyed boy filled me in on the morning’s details. The second was sitting in an over-crowded American bar on the 5th of November, 2008 when Obama was announced the victor and a stranger nearly knocked me to the floor while hugging me, his whole body shaking, tears running down his face. Men and women cried, screamed and then—there was a silence like I had never known as two years of emotion and waiting after 8 years of being embarrassed to be called an overseas American, flooded into the room and silenced us all.
After the silence returned to cheers, and then silence again, we filtered into the sunshine (by then it was nearly 1pm) and wandered around the city, bold and unafraid to be called Americans.
Obama takes Ohio!
That night at a celebration party on the Bund we were served Obamatinis and The Change has Come Cocktails with CNN in the background and a mood that was somewhat more serious than the morning, but still a tinge of excitement and unity. Even those who voted for McCain were out chatting happily about change. The change did not imply from a republican to a democrat, but from a failing sense of what it means to be American, to a reminder of what we as a country stand for.
The thing most impressed on me was the willingness, vocalized loudly and clearly, of Americans back home and abroad to work together to rebuild America. It is not, as some suspect, the worship or idolization of one man, but instead a return to the ideas that America was founded upon. I am happy that America now has an African-American president, but for me the real triumph is not that aspect, but the fact that he is a symbol for the reinvigoration of a faith most of us had lost in our country. I felt pride not in Obama, but in Americans. The person who hugged me at Malone’s that morning was a gay man whose faith is indeed in change as an American concept, not in Obama himself. That is what is unique and beautiful, and why I feel like last Wednesday is a day I will never forget, much in the same way I am unlikely to forget 9/11.
Since that emotion-charged day, I have watched as headlines across China have praised the choice of our next leader. What the Chinese admired about Americans is now returning: an unwavering faith in humanity based on principles of freedom, equality and the pursuit of happiness. Across the world we are seeing headlines of the same nature, the world is ready to be wowed once again by American idealism and American dreaming. The world wants us to exist, to live and enjoy freedoms and happiness to prove that a sort of utopia can exist on earth. Though a bit hyped up, I do believe that this I what people are looking for in our country across the pond, and what I hope we can prove by banning together and imagining ourselves responsible enough to create the future we design.
…and he wins!
Today I’m proud to say I’m an American. Something I have not said in a long, long time.
-posted by Lauren.
Traveling to Hong Kong when working for a Chinese company can prove to be a rather tiresome task. However, I have heard of several western businesses traveling in this manner. The manner in which I am asked to travel is sometimes completely beyond my understanding but it always is becomes a very interesting experience full of excitement, complications, and stressful situations. My company is constantly trying to “cut corners,” so to speak, and in the end spend much more money through these attempts.
Hong Kong
Usually I am asked not to fly directly to Hong Kong because it is extremely expensive. The reasons as to why flights from Shanghai to Hong Kong are considered international flights are money, the SAR (Special Authority Region) status that Hong Kong has maintained even after the 1997 turnover to China, and that China has signed a non-interference agreement with Britain / Hong Kong.
Hong Kong is politically part of China, but like other SAR and AR (Autonomous Regions) in China such as Xinjiang, Xizang (Tibet), and Inner Mongolia – which have existed independently for thousands of years, or in this case, 99 years under a treaty with Great Britain, the dissimilarities that exists between the mainland and these areas are immense. Even 11 years after the turnover, the Chinese authorities have surprisingly not intervened in Hong Kong. Besides the wide circulation and acceptance of only Hong Kong Dollars (HKD) and not Chinese RMB in most establishments, the fact that one crosses a “border” when entering and exiting Hong Kong, and that mobile phone networks from the mainland do not work or are charged international roaming fees, are solid examples of their semi-solidarity. I also believe that many Hong Kong citizens have a disenchanted or skeptical view towards the mainland. When asked about my employment with a Chinese company, many Hong Kong locals have responded, usually in perfect English, “you must be very angry and annoyed frequently while working for a Chinese company.” I will leave my response up to the interpretation of the reader.
Flying into Shenzhen is considerably less expensive than direct flights into Hong Kong. However, the land border crossing and shuttle bus back and forth can be extremely time-consuming. A shuttle bus from the Shenzhen airport arrives at the customs center near the international border crossing. All passengers have to carry all other luggage into the exit compound. After receiving some particularly annoying “foreign treatment,” you are ushered through the gate and board another bus outside the gate. This bus drives less than 10 minutes and arrives at the Hong Kong clearance compound. Once again, you have to take all of your bags off the bus and get clearance into Hong Kong. Then, you board a completely different bus and drive into Hong Kong. After almost two hours, you arrive at the destination you could have flown directly. Then, even though you have to go to a trade show near the Hong Kong airport, you have to stay in a hotel in Kowloon because it is also cheaper. After dealing with phone calls from your boss for not checking your email because the crappy hotel you stayed in doesn’t’ have internet services, you have a take the subway and walk to a bus center to take you back to the trade expo center one hour away every day.
In a poor attempt to save money, the company spent more on paying a salary while I was traveling and placing me in a hotel with no internet connection from which I could not perform my duties. This lack of foresight and logic is widespread throughout Chinese companies in my experiences. Although anecdotal, I have witnessed these events repeatedly and feel safe in generalizing, however many of these things are simply cultural. If you would like to save money by taking this route, I urge you to consider the time you are wasting while attempting to save money.
-Posted by Mike.
The financial world is a bit of a mystery to me. I view it as a completely made up profession. Perhaps there were not enough other jobs in the world, so a group of enterprising folks banded together and said, “lets make a whole occupation wherein all we do is talk about money.” And these innovators do not just talk about money, they actually made up a whole new list of things to do with money. Hence, the stock markets were born. Stock markets, in my mind, are necessary for only two things. To help companies who cant make a profit the old fashioned way (hard work) and to give thousands of people across the world a reason to buy a newspaper.
Its a fact that the largest newspapers in the world are the ones that cover financial new. Look at the Wall Street Journal, for example, or Reuters. Note that Michael Bloomberg (creator of the bloomberg analysis machine for finance) is now mayor of America’s most powerful city, New York. To me this is evidence that this made of profession is like a union, they vote for each other, read each others news, share in each others trials and tribulations and, most importantly, pretend to be friendly with each other when secretly each wishes the other’s portfolio would collapse so he could snatch up cheap shares. Yes, the financial world is an interesting thing. And a very easy study on human nature. If you ever get the opportunity, go spend a day around Wall Street. Notice how everyone in the made up profession is seriously over serious, self absorbed and usually walking around with a newspaper in one hand, a Starbucks in the other and a bluetooh in one ear (if not both, the ultimate status symbol!)
Shanghai Financial Tower
The company I currently work for will remain nameless, partially because I fear our compliance department scours the internet for company mentions and would not look favorably on my unfavorable view of the industry, but also because it is a British firm, and I worry that perhaps my perceptions of the financial world are really just perceptions on the British, who as a nation exhibit similar characteristics with everyone I’ve ever met from the US involved in stocks and trading. However, my nameless company employs a multinational crew, perhaps to balance out their views and give a more accurate perception of global market trends? Perhaps, also, because they can sell the image of a “multilingual, multinational staff” to clients as a marketing tool. I suspect the later, having learned that there are not truly good deeds (at least when it concerns money.) The company’s goal is to sucker investors form the UK into buying stock in Chinese companies. Its a wonderful idea, except that the global economy is crap at the moment, and there is really nothing worth putting money into. As the editor, every report our analyst write comes across my desk, and to date I have not read one report I would put even a dollar of my money on. For this reason, I have come to see investing as gambling. I have a better chance of striking it rich in Las Vegas, in my mind, then by investing. Every morning I watch the analysts scurry about with worried looks on their faces as they open the bloomberg to see a ton of charts that all show what looks like a hill, the downside being the day’s share price. They gather like flies outside the building on the marble entry way and look across their cigarettes at each other and shrug, “cant control the markets!” But, the most fascinating and horrifying aspect of all of this is, in the last several months of reading reports I have rarely seen a SELL recommendation. No, these scared and worried analysts are advising clients to BUY! “Hey, prices are cheap, why not buy now?” they suggest, and yet the hill on the bloomberg continues to go down. Do they feel guilty for asking someone to put money on their way of thinking? Perhaps, but more than likely they are thinking about their end-of-the-year bonus, and wondering if they wrote enough reports to get a great bonus, despite market performance.
In this made up industry there are loads of made up people. People who feel like they are the most important beings on the planet, and radiant information as well as hold the key to information that could (if they were so kind as to reveal it) make you a millionaire. When the phone rings in the office the analysts will snatch at the receivers and drone on as if bored, when really they are beaming at being noticed, at being inquired upon. They have knowledge to impart, and finally a student has called for a lesson. Such is the mentality of an analyst.
Perhaps it is unfair, you think, that I chide these poor, hard-working analysts so. Let me give you some industry-specific info. These people are the kings of faking it until they make it. Many of them do not have degrees, or any basis from which to be so knowledge imparting. No, they entered the firm as an editor (why, that’s me!) or as an assistant, and then, over time, they worked their way up by coming in at 7am and leaving at 9pm and generally learning the art of google hunting and Reuters coding. These people deserve credit, don’t get me wrong, but on the inverse I really do not trust them with financial information. Take, for instance, Steven Hawking. If he said tomorrow the world was flat I just might believe him. Having never been to space, the roundness of the earth it just as likely a myth as its flatness, as far as I personally know. In the financial world there is no one I really trust, especially given the recent collapses in the US markets and the overall decline in global stocks (with massive small-cap de-listings) in the past year. Case and point– experts always point to a bubble after it has burst. Not very helpful. Why then are these people called experts when all they can do it point out the obvious and then debate what will happen (not even suggesting ways to mend things, but just how to benefit and when to sell before the other guy does). Again, not very helpful, in the grand scheme.
Forgive the cynicism, reader, but unless you have spent months on end listing to pointless financial banter, then this diatribe (nay! this monologue) will seem as pointless as the occupation in berates.
-Posted by Lauren.
We had spent countless hours in Illinois searching for apartments online, only to discover that prices in Shanghai were on par with prices downtown Minneapolis. In Saint Paul we had paid US$620 a month to live on a very happening street; in China we were not willing to pay that amount. We set our goal at US$300 a month, half the amount we paid in America.
When we woke up (around 3am due to jet-lag) we ate a hearty breakfast of convenience store food and started walking around the area. We had several things to scope during the day, several things to consider, and loads of planning to do.
East side of the Bund
While in the states we had both set up interviews for when we arrived in china. My interview was as an editor with an equity research firm, Mike’s was with an insurance company as a writer. I called my contact around 9am and set up the interview for the following day, the man on the phone had a thick British accent and said he was surprised I had actually come to China. Mike’s contact had a faint American accent and set up their interview for the same time the next day as mine would be.
When looking for apartments we were a bit torn. Should we look for a place midway between his office and mine? It was assuming a lot that we would both be lucky enough to land those jobs, our only lined-up interviews. But since we had no other basis for picking a location, we decided to roll on the premises that carrying all one’s eggs in one basket at least insured they arrive. Our friendly hostel owner helped us look online, showing us a few key Chinese characters and several great websites. After a bit of online searching and phone calling, we set off on foot to look for local real-estate companies.
After less time than one would think we happened upon an agent’s office and asked if it was possible to get a place for around US$300. They said yes, but only if we lowered our expectations substantially. We saw a few apartments in the area with that agent, then moved down the street and found a Century 21. Globalization sure has made the world smaller.
After several days of apartment hunting we found a phone number online for a Realtor and called to inquire. He had originally listed an apartment for 3000Rmb, which was near our goal. We took the bait, and he showed us several apartments before we were dazzled by a beautiful and clean, two-story apartment on the metro halfway between his interview company, and mine.
The place was all Ikea, with white flooring, a bright red cough, built in furniture and massive windows. It looked modern and very cutting edge. We instantly wanted it but felt it was prudent to sleep on the decision. The next morning when we called Benny, the Realtor, the apartment was gone. He had others he could show us though, if we were interested. I hung up the phone and cursed myself for my protestant habits. We should have jumped on it when we had the chance; instead we were back to square one. We set off again looking for apartments that day, but half-hearted and not really interested. Around nine that night Benny called sounding chipper and said another unit in the building we liked had opened and he was holding it—would we sign right away? We said we would, and jumped in a cab to his office.
-Posted by Lauren.
For people who have never left their home, or the area where they grew up, this post will be a bit shocking. It’s about missing things that were taken for granted when they were too obvious to observe. After living in China for seven months, I was surprised at what I missed most about America.
I missed the food. American food is truly the most versatile, and perhaps for that reason we are the second most overweight country in the world (the first being the Philippines). I miss the availability of Mexican food, Italian cuisine, German brats, French cafes, Indian buffets, Chinese delivery, hamburgers, Mac & cheese and especially walking down the isle of the grocery store and realizing that every isle is the ‘imported foods’ isle, as America is composed of so many ethnicities that we benefit in that we see more of the world’s cultures in our grocery stores than most people in the world see in a lifetime.
I missed the people. American people are an independent and stand-offish lot to a newcomer. But to a veteran of the country, they are seen as stubborn because they are proud, closed-minded because they are determined, and most importantly– they are forward looking. Perhaps because American history extends back only a few hundred years, we have not had to live through massive defeats that left the nation in shambles. We are an optimistic, fun-loving, humorous and above all, an analytic people.
Fishing
I missed green. In China and Central Asia there are massive open spaces– but they are called deserts. In America we have massive fields of grass or growing grains. We have national parks, mountains, streams, and openness in the geography that makes us feel small and yet empowered. A thunderstorm in Illinois is somehow more beautiful than anything in the Louvre.
I missed the air. We take our lack of air pollution for granted. The rest of the world suffers from pollutions that cripple their lungs and darken the skies. Smoking is not seen as a health hazard in China, for example, because at least smokers have filters for the local air. Living in China, seeing the sky was a luxury. Living in America, I could stare at the blueness of the sky for hours without being bored. Clouds have so many shapes!
I missed the culture. Americans are friendly, perhaps owing to Christianity and a fear of Hell if one does not try, with every moment, to attain the rights to heaven. Nevertheless, in American people open doors, pull out chairs, say hello or nod to acknowledge your presence, give seats to the elderly, and have ramps for the disabled and offer vegetarian selections on their menus. Though not a veggie lover myself, all of these small kindnesses add up to a place wonderfully easy to live in. These things we call manners are really cultural quirks, and do not exist everywhere.
Well, when I lived abroad those were the things I missed, and when I returned to America they were the things that made me smile on a daily basis. Wherever you call home, find something simple and taken for granted to smile about today.
-Posted by Lauren.