On naps and chicken feet.

I apologize if I seem a bit out of it in this post. I just woke up from a nap. I’ve never been very good at taking naps, I always wake up feeling a bit groggy, and never quite recover. This is something that my fellow teachers don’t seem to understand. China is a country that believes in the siesta. At our school two and a half hours are given for lunch, with the expectation that once the students are finished eating they will return to their rooms for a mandatory nap. The school provides a bed for each teacher to use during this “rest” time. I however, do not usually indulge, in fact I haven’t ever even seen my assigned bed. Though I did only find out about it a week ago. I just find if I lie down and take an hour nap, it’s virtually impossible for me to recover afterward and be perky enough to teach more classes. It is hard for me to explain this to my co-workers, who always inquire on my absence in my bed and offer to take me to it around nap time which I always refuse. So they just think I’m crazy. Oh well, at least now you know my official feelings on naps.

About two weeks ago, as I was informed that two teachers at the school had gotten married the day before. And since I am such a closer personal friend of the couple (i.e. had never met them and am still not quite sure who they are) I was invited. Actually, I think all of the teachers in the school were invited. They don’t mess around with their receptions here. The lunch was huge, 34 courses at least. Last time I went to a wedding reception I was sitting with a table of American teachers and only one Chinese teacher. This time I was not so lucky, and it was not quite so easy to avoid the less pleasant looking dishes. Each time they brought something out the teachers (all English teachers, and therefore actually capable of voicing their peer pressure) would say “try some, just a bite.” Luckily they were momentarily not interested in me as the spicy pig intestine went around. I was not so lucky with the chicken feet. And so, I ate chicken foot. Delicious. In case the opportunity arises, to eat a chicken foot, you must simply pull one out of the dish with your chop sticks, and eat the whole thing. Bones and all. It’s really quite a sight. I escaped with only taking one bite. Mostly, it didn’t taste like anything but spicy, as it was marinated in super pepper sauce, and crunchy, due to the fact I was eating bone. It wasn’t until after I finished crunching down my chicken foot that I remember hearing once how you aren’t supposed to give dogs chicken bones due to the splintery nature of the bones. Consequently, I was convinced for the rest of the day I had a spire of chicken bone lodged in my throat and would soon likely die, similar to an unfortunate hound. Turns out, I didn’t.

I suppose it’s easy to poke fun, because it seems so strange, but one of the teachers I was sitting with had a good point. As the dishes went around, she often asked me if we had anything like it in America, and usually I told her no. She asked why we didn’t eat the blood and the feet and the intestines etc., and asked if instead we just throw it all away. I guess I don’t really see how a foot or neck or head is any different than any other part of the chicken. But we are American, and we can afford to be wasteful and only eat 100% boneless chicken breast and send the rest to the trash. This is one of the reasons in American I just don’t eat meat at all. Though, this hasn’t really been an option in China. I’d probably starve to death. So I’ll just get up on my high horse instead. So now you know my official feelings on chicken feet.

I don’t have much more exciting news. A small bite of chicken foot is the most interesting thing I’ve got to talk about apparently. Mostly, I just go to work and come home, just like I would in the states. The only difference is I generally never have any idea about what is going on around me. Nothing takes me by surprise anymore. One morning loud booming sounds filled the city, it sounded a bit like we were being bombed. One of the more excitable American teachers freaked out and called to ask what it was about. I was with a group of other American teachers at the time, and we just shrugged and said “meh”. We weren't being bombed obviously, but who knows what it was. When you never know what’s going on, it’s hard to separate out the things that are actually out of the ordinary. It would certainly be helpful if I could only ask. But unfortunately, the only question I know is: how much does it cost? Which is a bit limited. Every evening I see groups of old men with scraggly beards three hairs thick walking through the park clutching a cane in one hand and a caged bird in the other. It’s really a sight to see four old men slowly weaving through the park while holding up small wooden cages on the ends of their frail fingers. I know they aren’t selling them so what are they doing? Somehow I don’t think “how much does it cost?” is going to get me any closer to the answer. This is why I’ve been living in China for two months, and so much of it still seems a mystery to me…

National Day

October 1st was National Day here in China, and this year was the celebration of the 60th anniversary since Chairman Mao established communism in China. For the holiday I got eight days off of work, but in normal Chinese fashion, didn’t find out the precise dates of this break until about three days before hand. Unfortunately, all billion of the other people living in China get a similar break, so traveling in the country during this time can be difficult, especially if you are trying to make plans just three days ahead of your planned departure date. We had to clear a few roadblocks, but seven of the other foreign teachers and I managed to get tickets to go to Huang Shan (Yellow Mountain). There are three different types of train tickets a person can acquire: soft sleepers, hard sleepers, and the cheap seats: hard seats; which of course were the only seats still available. And this is no lie, those seats are hard. About four hours before leaving, it was brought to our attention that the train ride to Huang Shan was more like 17 hours each way, rather than the ten we’d been expecting. After hearing this news we had one person drop out, and the team was down to seven.
The train ride was everything I expected it to be. Long, hard, and a bit painful. The really great thing about the trains in China is that you are allowed to smoke on them. l mean, there are some rules, you are really only supposed to smoke between the cars, but this rule is apparently not well enforced, and even if it is, it only manages to put about 10 feet of distance between you and 15 chain smoking Chinese men. Not to mention all the sunflower seeds spit all about the train car…In all reality, the train ride wasn’t that bad. It was definitely an experience, and I was happy that I got to see more of the country. Plus about half-way through our trip most of the people got off and we were able to stretch out a bit. It also helped greatly that there were six other friends on the trip to help with entertainment. At one point we even found ourselves playing charades in the isle of a fairly full train car. Oh well, everyone is always staring at us anyway, might as well give them reason to look.
Due to our train issue, we got to the mountain a bit later than anticipated, and had to take the cable car to the top of the mountain rather than hiking. We got to the top right at sunset, checked into our sweet hotel room (a nine person bunk in the basement of the hotel) and then work up early the next morning for sunrise. The mountain was absolutely beautiful. The top of the mountain was packed with people, as we had been told it would be. But we decided (based on lonely planets excellent recommendation) to hike down the western steps of the mountain. It was a 15-18 kilometer descent (based on which sign you decided to trust), and the whole way was walking down, down, down carved stone stairs. I found the path to be utterly remarkable, unlike anything I’ve ever done before. There were times we were walking on shifty stone stairs carved right into the edge of the cliff without any sort of railing. Any second any one of us could have tumbled to our doom; and while there was one close incident involving a bee and a particularly steep section of stairways, luckily no one did. I loved the mountain. The day was beautiful, warm but not hot, and I saw clear blue sky with no signs of smog for my first time in China. The air smelled fresh and green, the water was clear, it was all quite lovely. Sigh, I want to go back already.
The next day we split into a few groups and Lili, Cary and I went to the hot springs at the base of the mountain. We had intended to only spend the morning there, but didn’t come home until after dinner. The springs were great, there was a coffee bath, a red wine bath, a milk bath (though that one was way too hot for us to go in) a weird sand bath, and tea baths etc. etc. Each separate bath had a little placard in front with its benefits listed. Thanks to that hot spring I think I shall live for all eternity with a cleansed soul and especially strong fingernails. My favorite part of that day was around lunch, we had decided to head back to our hostel and get some food, but instead we were ushered into the shower rooms where we were told to shower and given matching green canvas uniforms to change into, complete with disposable underwear. Newly dressed we were then sent to a room full of recliners where we were served platters of fruit with all the other guests who were similarly dressed in their awesome green outfits. Four hours later we peeled ourselves off the recliners and enjoyed the free dinner.
We stayed for two nights at a great hostel in Tangkou, which is a little village at the base of Huang Shan that I loved and would live in for the rest of my life, or at least a month or two. It was a touristy spot, so there were many foreign tourists along with tons of Chinese tourists. This was such a novelty to all of us from Zhengzhou. Since I have been living in Zhengzhou, I have only seen other non-Chinese people (besides the ones I work with) on two occasions, once I saw one from a bus window and once walking down the street near the train station. Then, all of a sudden, we were in Tangkou and we were seeing foreign people all over. It was a little ridiculous, because us Zhengzhouers were so taken by the novelty of it we invited every foreign person we saw to our hostel for dinner and drinks. Many of them came, and we had an awesome time. There were probably about 15 people or so, from all over, including Holland, Germany, Ireland, France, England, and one from the US, that came to hang out with us. Almost all of them were students or teachers or had a job of some sort in China, and many of them are living in Shanghai. So at least I know some people when I visit Shanghai. It was really a lot of fun.
Sadly, my first trip into the country had to come to an end. And now I’m back at work. Of course, the Chinese don’t really believe in taking breaks, so all the classes that were missed during our holiday have to be made up at some point. Consequently, I came back from my vacation to face an eight day work week. Yep, Saturday and Sunday classes for me. Awesome…