Petty Theft

When I came to China, I was told that this city was known for its petty theft. I'm thankful that I've only seen this a few times, and experienced it even less than that. One of the first few weeks, someone tried to take my purse, which scared me into being more careful with my belongings. During my trip to Tianjin during October 1st holiday, a woman ahead of me was the victim of an unsuccessful pickpocketing attempt.

This week, though, petty theft took on a whole new definition. Or maybe this just falls in its own category. You'll have to decide for yourselves!

One day this week, I returned to my apartment to see three holes in my cement wall and an out-of-place emptiness. Back in September I wrote about my milk and yogurt mailbox, how every morning was like Christmas morning, going out and finding milk and yogurt in my little box mounted just outside my door. But now, alas, it's gone!I told my friend Sean, and he did his best to console me by telling me that maybe the delivery people came to get next month's orders, and since I wasn't there, took the mailbox, too. I thought that sounded a little farfetched, but did my best to believe the possibility, until the milkwoman came to my door a few days later and asked what happened to my box! I told her I didn't know, and she seemed as surprised as I was when I first discovered its disappearance! Until I get a new milk mailbox, I am receiving the milk and yogurt just outside my doorstep - hopefully nobody wants that!

Unfortunately for the new owner of the box, the contents had already been removed, so all he got was a locked metal box. I hope he or she realizes that just because one has a box doesn't mean that milk and/or yogurt are delivered daily.

The other thing I had stolen? My cell phone, which was answered by the proud new owner, who wouldn't return it.

Faces of Character

Last week I went with some friends back to the nong jia le. I love the scenery, and this time, I paid particular attention to the people in the villages that we walked through to get there. One of my favorite things to observe here is the character on people's faces. Faces of elderly people show years of history, while children's faces prove their, well, their cuteness, I guess. It's fascinating to me to study the faces of people (please note there is a difference between study and stare!). Here's a small glimpse of what I saw:

Smoking a Pipe (Sorry Facebook Friends, this one's a repeat)It was a really foggy day, but I still like this picture of these two guys walking down the road.

Mixing Cement

Cleaning wheatBecause of cool air and no heat, we resorted to any method to stay warm, including lying under blankets, going on hikes, drinking tea, and keeping our coats on.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can

You know the old story of the Little Engine Who Could? When another train full of toys and dolls for the little boys and girls on the other side of the mountain broke down, nobody else would help the train accomplish it's goal. Finally a little train offered to help, even though it had never been over the mountain before. It pulled and strained, working hard to get the train up the mountain. As it heaved and lugged the heavy train, it told itself, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can." Eventually, after much hard work, the little train made it to the top, and coasted down the mountain with the other train in tow. The train was heard during the ride down the mountain: "I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could." And all the little boys and girls were so happy that the Little Engine Could.

I feel like language-wise the last couple weeks, I'm facing the uphill battle. I keep saying to myself, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can," working hard to study, to attempt to hold Chinese conversations, to try and catch bits and pieces of what I hear. And yet, it's slow, hard work. It takes so much time. I'm just a little engine with a big (overwhelming, at times) task. And instead of just one mountain, I'm sure there are quite a few. But they are farther away, and I have to get over this this mountain first. I love when I get over a little hill, seeing the faces of the little boys and little girls, who understand me and can make themselves understood. And so I keep striving, straining, studying, waiting for the moment when I can say, "I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could."

This Little Engine

Heat!

This week the skies became visibly much more polluted, but the result of the pollution was heat in my apartment! November 15th is the official date for the heat to be turned on, but my apartment's heat began the 14th, which I certainly will not complain about. On Tuesday, I noticed that I could see my breath in my apartment, and this week the weather became much cooler, so Wednesday's heat was great timing. It's been nice not feeling like a marshmallow with tons of layers on, too. I think I wore up to 4 long sleeve shirts one day. I'm sure I'll get tired of the pollution that it causes and eventually prefer the cold weather to heat, but for now, I'm going to enjoy my heat!

Grocery Stores

I think grocery shopping is one of those skills at which I'm becoming more and more proficient each time I go, but every time is still a cultural experience. Yesterday, after another grocery shopping outing, I had to laugh about some of the things that happened. I've realized that some things I originally thought were so strange I have now gotten used to, while other things, well, I'm not sure I'll ever get used to.

It took me three different grocery stores to get everything I needed, and because I had limited room based on the size of my bike basket, I had to stop back by my apartment after each store. I found almost everything I needed at the first place, RenRenLe, which is my current favorite. It's quieter, people are very helpful, and it has a large selection of foods (including some western food). However, I forgot to keep in mind that I had ridden my bike, so I bought too many things. The solution? Hanging bags over the handlebars, hoping the bags don't break and my knees don't knock against the bags too many times.

After dropping my things off at my apartment, I biked over to the next grocery store. Vangaard is not my favorite place to go because it's constantly busy and extremely loud. I knew that there were mugs there that I wanted, though, so I braced myself and went in! In the midst of the craziness - the hoards of people, the people using microphones to recruit shoppers to try their samples - there, crouched in the Chinese squatting position (both feet flat on the ground and sitting on one's heels), was a man reading the newspaper. Other people walked right around him, completely ignoring the man. I have no idea if he was waiting for somebody or what he was doing, but I thought it was pretty funny!

This store's shoppers are especially good at The Look. It's inevitable. Waiting in line to check out is the ideal time for the people before and after me in line to perfect this art. First comes the glance - they casually look over at me. The Glance is never satisfying enough, though. I wait for the next step, the slow curious downward movement of the eyes, first inspecting the laowai's (foreigner's) clothes, then the food I plan on buying. After investigating the food, the eyes usually travel all the way down the jeans to the shoes, then back up, slightly faster, stopping briefly at the basket of food again, and finally ending with my face. Sometimes I ignore The Look, sometimes I look back, sometimes I try and strike up a conversation.

After buying fruit and some mugs for anticipated company that evening, I left the store and went to unlock my bike. As I was unlocking it, I heard a strange noise next to the tree a couple feet away. I turned to see this boy, about 10 years old, relieving himself, looking at me like I was the strangest sight he had ever seen. I thought it was rather strange that a boy of his age would have no problem peeing near a main street and a grocery store and right next to me, so I'm sure I gave him a look of surprise and shock as well!

Stopping in the little market near my house was the last stop. I needed to get some vegetables for a salad, but was having a hard time finding lettuce. I found it in this little market, and I also saw little cherry tomatoes. That would be good for the salad, I thought to myself. Nearing the tomatoes, I saw that there were two different kinds. Now it wouldn't have been too bad to just choose one, but there was another woman who was looking at these same tomatoes. I looked up at the sign, where the prices were listed. Illiteracy still pays it's toll in situations like these, because I could read which vegetable was which price. Luckily for me, though, the woman next to me either couldn't read or preferred asking the employee the prices of all the vegetables (the latter probably more likely), so this guy came over and told her the difference prices. I just stood there and listened, and then was able to ask which tomatoes were better tasting.

Finally, after an afternoon of grocery shopping, I arrived back at my apartment (for the third time), having successfully purchased all that I needed!

Why don't Chinese people speak Spanish?

It happens all the time. When I try to think of Spanish words, just to make sure I haven't forgotten all that I have studied, I struggle to come up with coherent sentences. I just can't think of the right words. Chinese comes to my mind.

But when I can't think of how to say something in Chinese, what comes to my mind? Yup, that's right. Spanish. Those six years of studying in school, plus the summer in Argentina, pull through for me (unfortunately!). So this morning when I couldn't understand the other person's Chinese, I began to get flustered. I couldn't figure out how to convey my meaning, either, so I tried to think of a different way to say the same thing. Eventually, I found a way: Spanish. It didn't work too well, though, because she certainly didn't understand Spanish, and the mixture of Chinese and Spanish doesn't go together too well anyway! I realized after I said the combination sentence what I had done, with the help of her look of extreme confusion. So I laughed and tried again, this time using Chinese and nonverbal communication. I've found that combination works a little better than the Chinese/Spanish combination. Maybe if I keep trying, though... :)

Homemade Jiaozi

A couple weekends ago, about 45 minutes after my exciting wedding adventure (which I was told would end 3 or 4 hours sooner!), some friends came over to my apartment to make jiaozi, or Chinese dumplings. First we went to RenRenLe, the supermarket near my house, and bought the necessary ingredients: beef, green vegetables, flour, and lots of sauces. When we got back to my house, several of us cut the greens into tiny pieces, added them to the meat, and mixed them together with the different sauces, while the others made the dough of flour and water for the outside.

The dough was really dense, so it took a lot of hand strength to knead it.

After rolling the dough into a long tube, we used a huge knife to cut 1/2 inch wide hunks of dough (on the cutting board above). Then, using the rolling pin, each little cylinder was rolled into a thin circle, in which we put the meat and vegetable filling. Finally, we folded the dough around the meat, sealing it all together, and boiled it. After a long process and lots of work, we were able to enjoy the final product dipped in some yummy sauces!

taste-testing partway through! And finally, dinner time! Well worth the wait.

coffee shop adventures

Yesterday I had quite a bit of studying to do, and also wanted to just be in a different environment than my desk, so I hopped on my bike and headed to a nice coffee shop. I ordered my coffee, then settled into a comfortable chair for the morning. After a couple hours of studying, and drinking coffee, I got up to take a break and use the restroom. I walked into the little one-room bathroom, but there was no light on. I looked around for a light switch, but didn't see any. Thinking that maybe it was on the outside, I stepped out and looked on both sides of the door, still failing to see the light switch. There's gotta be a light switch somewhere, I thought to myself, stepping back in the bathroom, beginning to wonder what other costumers were thinking about this foreigner who kept walking in and out of the restroom. Finally, I decided that I would ask somebody to help me (because obviously the light was not activated by motion!), and walked up to the employee. I asked him, with my limited knowledge of these Chinese vocabulary terms, where the light was. Just then the coffee shop received a call, and he hurriedly said something to a bystander, handed her his cell phone, and rushed off to answer his call. Now I was really confused, and looked to the girl holding the cell phone, hoping to be able to understand her explanation. There wasn't too much to understand, though, because she said two words, in English: No power.

Alright, I thought to myself. I have a few options. I can go home, but I was planning on staying for a while longer, so I don't really want to do that. I could maybe go somewhere else, but the chances of finding another restroom are slim to none, not counting the fact that it probably would not be too clean, and I would have to pack up all my stuff. The last option, which I chose, was to use that restroom...light or no light. I stepped (again!) into the dark room. There was an outer door for the sink area, and another door separating the squatty potty and the sink. Maybe I can close one door and leave the other one open to get a little light. I closed the outer door. Pitch black. Nope, not going to work. Let's try the other way around. I opened the outer door and closed the stall door. Pitch black.

I don't know if you have ever used one of these...

...but I wasn't too excited to use a squatty potty in the dark. (Those of you who haven't used a squatty potty or don't know how to use them :), you put your feet on the sides, and I think it's fairly self explanatory from there!) A little too scary for me. As I opened the restroom door for about the 37th time to leave, I saw the girl who had spoken the two predicament-causing words standing just outside, waiting for me to arrive at this conclusion, and holding the cell phone the employee had handed her. I looked at her, then at the cell phone, and then, only then, did I realize that the cell phone had a tiny little flashlight on the end of it. I smiled, probably turned red in the face as I realized she had been waiting for me that whole time (which actually only last about 15 seconds or so), and took the cell phone/flashlight from her. The squatty was much more bearable with even the tiniest light, and I had to laugh at the solution for no electricity. Now I can say that I have used a squatty potty... in the dark...with a cell phone as the light!