Sometimes in movies there's a scene where the protagonist is insanely excited. Or maybe he falls in love. Or he realizes that he's been incredibly stupid and sets out to fix it. Whatever the reason, he walks outside and realizes the world is suddenly brighter, more colorful, and full of life. Often, this is achieved by movie magic, accompanied by an upbeat song.
I witnessed this effect today, but I didn't understand what was happening at first.During my spontaneous afternoon-walk around town, I couldn't figure out why I kept staring at my surroundings as if I had never seen them before. Eventually, I realized that the ever-present haze enveloping the city (dust, pollution, or mist—depending on the day) wasn't there. Instead, I was privileged to have sunlight and a clear blue sky, which brought everything into sharp focus. Where usually buildings in the distance are fuzzy and nondescript, I could see defined lines. I saw more color than I realized Qingdao possessed. I even saw mountains that I never knew were there. I didn't sing, but I did smile.
My walk ended at a small lake near campus. Sitting in the grass under a willow, watching sun and wind dance across the water, I realized that I was happy. Not jubilant, like the character in the movie who whistles while jauntily striding down the street, but calm-happy. The feeling that comes when you have a day free of obligations and can escape responsibilities. The feeling you experience when you're alone except for a sturdy tree, the most trustworthy of friends. The type of feeling that seems to promise scabbed, Band-Aid-covered wounds heal (even if they scar) and life moves on. It's a nice feeling.
The scenery of China seems to alternate between green and gray.
Gray is the color of a typical Chinese village. Though often large enough to be termed a town or even a small city by my standards, they are indeed miniscule compared to China's megacities. Villages are stark places, the sharp edges of squat rectangular buildings contrasting with smooth, round pipes and towering cylindrical smokestacks. Cement and brick compete for dominance. The actual colors form a diverse palate of browns, creams, grays, and even yellows, but the faded colors give the overall impression of gray. Or, perhaps more than actual shades, my impression of gray comes from the emanating feeling of dinginess. Each building seems in disrepair, with bricks crumbling, iron rusting, and glass missing. Rusty bicycles weave through piles of wheels, lumber and bricks that often fill a building's wall-enclosed square courtyard. Flat roofs strewn with rocks and bricks further add to the sense of disarray, though serve the purpose of holding down sections of tin roofing.
The green, laid out in ordered rows, stretches across vast fields of farmland until it disappears against distant rolling hills. It's a healthy green, seemingly undisturbed by the pollution-blue sky seen across the country. Though different plants curl up trellises, crawl across the ground and straighten into the air, it's impossible to distinguish what exactly is being grown as I peer out the dirty train window. Workers in straw hats occasionally dot the fields; ironically it appears work does not stop even to recognize Labour Day.
The national holiday of Labour Day is the reason for my train ride. With a three day weekend to fill, I made the long journey to Xi'an, travelling on a train for 22 one-way and 26 hours back. Though it is a tediously long trip, watching hours of similar villages and fields sweep by gives me an appreciation for how expansive this country is, as well as an idea of life in interior China. It is a life of dedicated work and simple pleasures, like the white-pink blossoming cherry trees whose shade is carefully cleared of rubble and trash.
As I sit on my shiny-red train and watch scenery sweep by, I am humbled to glimpse brief flashes of real life. Two old men lounging on a faded orange couch, smoking and watching the trains go by.A blue-shirted toddler plodding along empty railroad ties as his mother walks protectively behind. Twin yellow mopeds streaking through small pools of water collected on a dirt road. An open red-and-white-striped umbrella hovering above the ground, caught between the walls of two close houses. These are the colors of China that I see, nose pressed to the window as everyone on the train naps around me.
I've been having problems getting blogs to post for the past few weeks. Let's see if this works!
I stepped out of the train station in Xi'an and immediately started doing two things: sweating and coughing. Though the heat was welcome after still-chilly Qingdao, I was less enthused by the almost-tangible pollution. Looking at the sky, I could see a gray haze enveloping the city. Thankfully, a breeze was present for our few days in Xi'an, cleaning the air enough that my coughing didn't persist, but I could always feel the grime sticking to my sunscreen-coated skin. At night, I blew my nose to find it gray and noticed my new white shoelaces weren't quite so white anymore.
The air aside, I thoroughly enjoyed Xi'an. The weekend was peaceful and stress-free, a welcome respite from recent life in Qingdao. Other than visiting the warriors, we had no set plans in Xi'an so Saturday found us wandering around the city. We ended up in the Muslim Quarter, a maze of streets crammed with small stores selling souvenirs and artwork. Getting to an eye-catching store was often a process as the narrow streets were filled with rickshaws and mopeds, while the sidewalks were home to vendors and snack carts selling unleavened bread, nuts, prunes and more. Nestled deep in the heart of the Quarter was the mosque, easily mistaken for a traditional Chinese building if not for the sign.
As evening approached, I hypothesized that the sunset might be beautiful (there is an urban legend that pollution accentuates color), so we climbed the wall surrounding the city. From the top of the wall, we had a good view of the city but not of the sun, which sank out of sight into the pollution cloud long before it sank beneath the horizon. Many people on bicycles passed us as we strolled (it's a popular activity to bike along the wall). I noted that while the rental places offered a helmet along with the bike, they were never taken up on their offer!
On Sunday we joined fellow travelers from our hostel on a tour to the Terracotta Warriors. Actually, after learning the meeting place/time in case someone got lost from the tour, we purposefully lost the tour and went to explore on our own!
The first emperor of the Qin Dynasty, Qin Shi Huang, conquered neighboring states to unite China for the first time. He codified the legal system, created an administrative system, standardized a written script, and supervised the connection of walls into the Great Wall. The emperor took the throne when he was only 13, then immediately began construction on his tomb. Over 8,000 life-size clay statues of warriors, chariots, and horses were created to defend his tomb and help the emperor rule another kingdom in the afterlife. Each statue is unique, with individual facial expression and insignia. Even more remarkable than the hundreds that have been unearthed is the knowledge that there are probably thousands more still buried.
There are three main pits, each of which has been covered with a large roofed building and outfitted with viewing areas along the perimeter. We began in Pit 2, an area that has just begun to be renovated. Along the edges of the pit, the initial findings can be seen: a broken horse's foot, the cracked edge of a tunic, a disembodied head, a graveyard emerging from red dirt.
Pit 3 is smaller, almost completely uncovered and host to more complete figures. Four horses stand proudly while soldiers guard against the ganders of death. Pit 3 was my favorite because it was small enough to walk around easily and see all sides of the statues. Pit 1, the biggest and most daunting in terms of sheer scope. The building that houses Pit 1 is easily the size of a football stadium; only 1/3 has been uncovered so far but even that much is impressive. Gazing down at the tomb, rows and rows of men at attention stare blankly back. The array made me wonder just how terrified the emperor was of death to build thousands of clay warriors that could symbolically protect him.
Sunday evening we went back to the Muslim Quarter to buy small statues of the soldiers, as well as pick up other gifts. The role of barterer fell to me and I was ruthless, demanding a fair price instead of the tourist price. My tactic is to speak in Chinese and be polite but firm, offering the price I am willing to pay and not budging while the seller steadily comes down. Eventually it reaches a point where the seller tells me they can go no lower, so I say "I understand, thank you for your time" and walk away. When they call me back (it works every time), I know I've gotten the deal. I also know that they won't sell anything if they don't make a profit so all the grumbling is for show and I've likely gotten closer to the price a Chinese buyer would get instead of the price a random white tourist pays.
The craziest bargaining story is that of the hunt for statues. I can't say what kind, as I got two and am giving one as a gift to my dad (Sorry, Dad, it's a secret!). I'd been looking at the statues at several different places, where the average price was 85 RMB. I decided I would be willing to pay 50 each and set out to make it happen.
I ended up at a small store run by a small woman in a head scarf. After "browsing," I casually asked how much it would cost to buy one statue and was told 150 RMB, an outrageous price compared to other stores. Nevertheless, I began the bargaining. "Will you give me a discount if I buy two?" She got out her calculator and punched 250. I shook my head, explaining that I was a student and didn't have much money. I then offered 100 for the pair and was met with more head-shaking. The dance continued, with her coming down to 200 and me declining. Eventually, she found a smaller version of the statue and offered me 100 for the small pair, but I stood my ground. I tried to leave once (as a tactic) but she forcibly stood between me and the door, offering 150. I punched 100 on the calculator again and when she shook her head, I decided to leave for real.
The tiny woman blocked me again. I tried to shove my way to the door as she gripped my arm to hold me in place; Madison tried to come to my rescue, grabbing the older woman's free arm to propel her away from me. I ended up dragging the surprisingly-strong woman along with me ("Fine, 130! 120!"), eventually utilizing some self-defense training to twist my arm out of her grasp. "Ok, 110!" she hollered as I neared the door, then sighed and got a bag. I smiled, recognizing that even though my heart is pounding and my arm is sore, that I had gotten the better end of the deal. The woman gave me the bag and I gave her 100 RMB. She then demanded 10 more and I fought back, "I always told you 100!" Thankfully, a younger employee had come out of the backroom to watch the end of the transaction (the loud part) and decided that I was right. On the street, I couldn't breathe for a minute, but not because of the pollution! After calming down my fight-or-flight response, I went on my thankfully-uneventful shopping and pleasant weekend in Xi'an! You better like this statue, Dad!
I constantly get asked two questions: "Are you American?" and "Do you speak Chinese?" The answer to both is affirmative, but I am quick to clarify the second answer with: "I only speak a little Chinese." Of course, I am then asked to speak in Chinese and generally comment on the weather (still cold) or how I feel about Qingdao (it is very beautiful).
While it will no doubt be quite a long time until I will answer simply "Yes, I speak Chinese," I have been bolstered by recent improvements in my language skills. Every day brings new vocabulary, as well as more characters to memorize. As I build my vocabulary, I have more room to explain myself when I get stuck. While I consistently lack the actual word I want to use, I can now fumble my way through expressing what I want successfully enough to be given the correct word. There have even been some words I never thought I would use, such as "freeze-dried dumplings," that I have indeed used in conversation. After spending several days on vocabulary about being a guest and making dumplings, I was indeed invited to someone's house to make dumplings. What a perfect time to practice!!
One day a few weeks ago I went shopping and came back to the dorm elated, excitedly wanting to share my stories. Not many people understood why I was so happy, but I had experienced my first real success in Chinese! Considering I had learned words for colors and clothing recently, I was perfectly able to shop on the street. Instead of just asking the price and being shown numbers on a calculator, I was actually able to communicate with the sellers, asking about additional merchandise and making polite conversation.
"This color is too light. Do you have darker colors, maybe black?" "These shoes are too big. Do you have smaller ones?" "Why is this shirt 60? The sign says 30-50?" "Why, yes, this is very comfortable." "It's very pretty, but I don't think I will buy it."
Some phrases I even pulled directly from my textbook's practice dialogue, which greatly amused my classmates when I told them in class the next day. I ended up with good bargains (and really awesome yellow shoes!) but I was more excited to have engaged in a conversation where I didn't feel like I forced the other speaker to stifle their vocabulary. Success!
My friends and I have started to speak Chinese more often when we are just chatting. English gets thrown in a lot and Chinese words get misused but we all have the same vocabulary so we can all follow each other! In addition, each day's new vocabulary allows us to learn more about our classmates that don't speak English; we can only communicate in Chinese so it is a relationship in progress. We must be fun to watch at lunch: one person will attempt to explain something to the group using a combination of Chinese and hand motions, another person will catch on and then attempt to provide additional vocabulary that might help the people still lost, then finally there's a big aha moment before everyone laughs.
Oh, did I mention I had a dream in Chinese. It was mostly someone speaking Chinese to me and me getting frustrated that I could not understand it, but still, what a sign that I'm learning!
Just a quick note to explain some of the fun things I am doing:
-Monday afternoons from 2-4 is a required culture class. So far we have discussed poetry, art, and differences between China and the Western world. Our teacher speaks very good English and we learn a great deal every week. Further topics include politics, history, and education.
-Mondays from 4-5:30 and Thursdays from 3:30-5:30 I take an optional Kung Fu class. On Thursdays there is an actual class of around 16 students; I am not enrolled in the class but I get to go join. On the first day, we did lots of stretching exercises and then taught the first few positions of a movement sequence. After about an hour, everyone seemed to split off and do their own things. While most of the students were just talking, I was practicing each of the positions over and over again. As a result, I earned private instructions from one of the teachers. When I go to Kung Fu, I no longer have to join the class but instead get to work in the corner of a room with a few other students who have private projects! Yay!
Working individually means I have to work hard! I want to impress my teacher, as well as avoid being knocked over when he demonstrates that my posture is not well-balanced. I wish I knew my teacher's name because he rocks! He's much, much smaller than me but is extremely skilled. Other than me calling him "laoshi" (teacher), we really can't communicate so he just moves (usually hits!) different parts of my body into the proper positions. It's strenuous. I get into a pose and then hold it for minutes on end while he makes minute adjustments, then I go back to the basic position and then move into the pose again while he fixes it. Over and over. I can feel myself sweating from the effort of keeping my body poised exactly right. It's like yoga on steroids and I'm pretty much in love with it!
-Tuesday afternoons is an optional painting/calligraphy class. Hunter, Andy, Josh, Drew, and Madison are also all taking this class. All the students essentially work by themselves while the teacher comes around to help. We are practicing making strokes in the proper way (extremely hard!) and creating bird and flower drawings. I like painting more than calligraphy, but the two are connected so it is important to practice both. As part of my birthday present, Hunter gave me painting books for inspiration and paint. I created a very pretty painting of a branch with red flowers. According to Chinese rule, I also left room on the side for calligraphy (probably a poem) but am leaving that blank until I am better at writing!
Oh, pictures of Qingdao coming soon! I haven't taken that many yet because I've been so busy being a good student, but I am spending the weekend exploring the city so I'll get to take some pictures. It's a 3-day weekend because of 清明节,also known as Tomb Sweeping Day. Lots of students are travelling but we're going to be exploring our own city!
