yuanxiao jie kuaile!

Are you all ready for this? Because it’s a very long update (though I truly hope you read it, maybe in multiple sittings), with lots of pictures. It’s kind of weird how so much, and yet so little, can happen to me in one day, or even in an afternoon. Anyway, I”ll go in a rough chronological order.

The other day Tianqi took me to her favorite Sichuan restaurant. She warned me it was small, but I invited some friends along anyway. Well those few friends turned into like twelve people, which was totally cool with me. But clearly, I didn’t take Tianqi’s words literally enough, because the restaurant was less than twice the size of my room. So we got food there with another Chinese (male) roommate who lives two doors down while everyone else went to eat somewhere else to eat, and then we brought our food to their restaurant and ate with them.



Now, a little bit about this restaurant. Tianqi told me that she eats there at least once a month. That afternoon, she told me that she had taken her father there once and he refused to eat there because he thought it was too dirty, though she’s never had a problem. It made me just a little wary, but honestly, only a truly disgusting-looking place will stand between me and good Sichuan cuisine.



So we got to the restaurant. In addition to its aforementioned size (or lack thereof), the place was packed with people. I don’t think that the tables could have been smaller or closer. It was almost impossible to navigate the place without becoming awkwardly intimate with the other people trying to get through. I was the only waiguo ren in the place and felt a little unwelcome. Getting a table and a basket for food was a rather competitive endeavor.





So how the restaurant works is against one wall, there are plastic baskets filled with skewers of uncooked food: meats, tofu, vegetables. You go up to a window and they had you a (likely unwashed) plastic basket, and you take whatever food you want in your chao fan (stir fry) into your basket. It’s like a low-tech version of YC’s Mongolian BBQ, for those of you who would know. Then you pay, return your basket, and they serve you your chaofan in a bowl. But it’s not just any bowl. This is a bowl that many people have used before you and has not been washed. Instead of washing the bowl, they just serve everything in a plastic bag and put the plastic bag in the bowl. Easy clean up, quick turn around.



One thought that kept entering my mind the entire night: If Papa knew I were here, he may question my mental capacity. Papa is my ultra-amazing, wonderful grandfather. He is an excellent doctor and very cautious about sanitary conditions, especially those I encounter in China. He sent me here with a pharmacy of medications, gloves, and masks just in case. I love him, but I can imagine that with all the experience he has with germs, this place would look like a Petri dish of impending infection. Luckily, I haven’t had medical training, so I had no idea of the potential destruction I could be wreaking on my intestines.

I hardly need to tell you that the food was amazing. Spicy, oily, wonderful, and of no consequence to my bowels. I’m so going back. Sorry, Papa.

After a nice first week of classes, on Friday afternoon, three friends and I went to the Silk Road Market, a notorious waiguo ren draw and a place of massive bargaining. You can see here that they have signs of translation of how to say things.



I first I thought it was for the benefit of the waiguo ren so that they wouldn’t get totally taken advantage of. But there was no pinyin translation, so the ignorant laowai wouldn’t know how to say the things in Chinese. Then I realized it was for the stall owners so that they could better take advantage of the loaded, ignorant, obnoxious waiguo ren.

Bargaining is really hard, and the key to it is to act like it’s too expensive and then walk away. Usually you will get the price you want. We did pretty well bargaining; we definitely got lower prices than most waiguo ren since we speak Chinese, but since we’re obviously foreign, we were basically just less ripped-off. Still, 6 bucks for a knock-off Coach wallet is alright with me.

After shopping we discovered that, by a beautiful twist of fate, Beijing most famous roast duck restaurant was on the top floor of the Silk Road Market. Henry Kissinger ate there! Realizing we couldn’t pass up the opportunity, we went, spent 110 Yuan a person (most expensive meal I’ve ever paid for in China), and stuffed ourselves to the brim with roast duck.



That night pretty much everyone went out to a bar area called Sanlintunr, and I went too. I am a notorious bar hater. I hate it when music so loud the place sounds quiet, when there are so many people that it’s impossible to move, when the collective body heat turns it into a sauna of sweat. No thank you. But I went anyway, because I want to be with my friends and make new ones.

The thing about Sanlintunr is that it is a notorious waiguo ren district. Honestly, they only Chinese people there were selling street food or driving cabs. And these aren’t just any waiguo ren. They are, from what I observed, the most ignorant, obnoxious, and spoiled waiguo ren. And they are not just Americans.

The other thing about Sanlintunr is that, since it is such a waiguo ren draw, it is also a huge hub for drugs. The streets are lined with African Americans offering hashish, coke, pretty much anything you want. I’m not being racist or stereotyping, because it’s just the truth. They come from Africa to sell tourists drugs. Chinese children run around the street, try to hug you, and then steal your wallet. Doesn’t it sound fun?

So basically, it wasn’t. I got to hang out with people from CET, but my friends and I went back early after the police shut down the bar we were in.

Yesterday CET organized a trip to the Summer Palace. I went to the Summer Palace the first time I came to China, back when I was an ignorant waiguo ren (now I’m only semi-ignorant). Unfortunately, the day we went, it was raining so hard that all we did was walk through as quickly as possible. So I was looking forward to seeing what it was that I had supposedly already seen.

Well the weather and I seem to have gotten our wires crossed, because in addition to being absolutely freezing, yesterday was rainy and foggy. So Tianqi, Jason, and I trolled around Yihe Yuan for four hours in the cold rain. Despite the sick twist of fate, it was still fun. This photo of me and Tianqi was taken by my friend Jason Foong.





The day improved significantly when Tianqi invite me and Jason (since he has no roommate) back to her house to eat dinner. Before I came here, one of my biggest hopes was that I would make friends with my roommate and then go to her house, meet her family, and eat their food. And it came true after only a week and a half. This is the entrance to her building:



Here I am with her mom:



It was amazing. Her dad cooked so much food. My favorite (though honestly, it was all spectacular) was this chicken. I forget what it’s called, but it’s like sweet, spicy chicken wings only a million times better.



He also made a potato and meat dish:



And this nifty chicken and egg dish:



And two vegetable dishes, sweet potatoes, and this amazing sweet soup that’s designed for some holiday that happens to be today. The soup has these large, soft white balls filled with black, grainy stuff that tastes a little bit peanut butter-y. So so SO good. I ate a lot.





Eating was so interesting. You try eating chicken wings with chopsticks. It’s hard. They also put their bones on the table, which I found out only after her mom told me to do so, though I didn't understand so Jason had to translate. Table manners are also different: slurping, burping… seems more comfortable and relaxed than in America.

Tianqi’s parents are wonderful people. They were warm and welcoming, and told me to consider them my Beijing mother and father, which I now do. However, last night was one of the most frustrating experiences of my life.

I’ve discussed how accents are very hard to understand, and the speed with which people speak makes it even harder to decode just what people are saying. Well, clearly there was lots of talking going on last night, and I understood 40%, maybe 50% of what was being said. I know that they were asking me things or making conversation with me, but since I only got about half of what they were saying, all I could do was smile awkwardly, bite my lip, and feel like a total idiot. It’s times like this when I really question whether I have actually learned Chinese. I felt SO STUPID. Lacking the ability to understand or express myself is so maddening and embarrassing. When I tell them that I’ve been studying for two and a half years, I feel like a total joke.

Furthermore, there’s a lot of cultural stuff that I know I don’t understand. I probably offended Tianqi’s parents numerous times and made egregious breaches in etiquette, but they’re all too polite to tell me.

Later that night, a bunch of us went to KTV and rented a room and sang karaoke until 2:30 in the morning. Tons of fun. It was great. I sang a few times, but the music was pretty bad. I was forced into singing “Hit Me Baby One More Time” and “My Heart Will Go On,” though I voluntarily sang some Chinese songs. This photo also by Jason Foong:



And then, when we left at 2:45, it was snowing. Oh, weather, why dost thou hate me so? The snow is pretty much gone now, but it’s cold and windy.

And then today, my friend’s roommate invited me, her roommate, and our other friend to her house for lunch. I ate SO much that I plan on skipping dinner. We had tons of food.

There was this baicai (vegetable) stuff that was vinegary and a little spicy:



This gelatinized salty thing the grandfather made to look like a fish:



Quail eggs (which I didn’t eat because I don’t do eggs):



Cucumber/carrot/noodle liangcai, salty meat, the amazing fried sweet potato glazed with sugar and sesame seeds, two kinds of dumplings and two kinds of soup: the kind I had at Tianqi’s house, and another one with white balls filled with fruity preserve-like stuff. I am going to gain so much weight here. Forget the Freshman 15, we’re talking the China 20 (at least), though I really hope to thwart that.



Just a few little end notes. More than one person has compared me to a Barbie, which I find strange, since I bear no physical (or really, ideological) resemblance to a blonde, anatomically incorrect plastic toy. But hey, it’s meant as a compliment. I think.

Despite my frustrations, I am happy here. As most know, my first year of college was pretty much the worst of my life. Even though I’ve only been here a week and a half, I feel like this is what my first year of college was supposed to be like. I know that my feelings can and may change, but the transition has been painless and fun. Fingers crossed that it stays like this.

Jiayou!