Schell of a Man

I remember as a child watching fireworks and thinking I could never get tired of them. I recall the tension of watching on the Fourth of July and not wanting the display to end. Thinking (and probably asking) “is this the finale?” every time more than one firework went off at a time. I also remember when I first realized there was such an experience as too much of a good thing. It was in Duluth at a 4th of July concert/firework show. It must have lasted 20 minutes (with many of the fireworks hidden behind the stage). It was when I first realized that the excitement couldn’t last, even if the show did. Thinking back to that now, I realize that it was preparation for living in China.

Last Sunday was Chinese New Year’s Eve, and for nearly four hours before and after midnight the sky all over Ningbo exploded and crackled. I stood at my apartment window with three other friends and rang in the New Year. It was amazing to watch and listen to the whole city celebrate. From the large fireworks being set off in the parking lot in front of my house, to my neighbors shooting roman candles out their window at the adjacent hotel, to the other large displays taking in the distance, it was all out pandemonium. Huge rolls of blackcat firecrackers over 1.5 feet in diameter sparked and jumped on the sidewalks for what seemed like hours. Traditionally the practice of lighting fireworks is preformed to ward off the evil spirits and ghosts, and keep them from making trouble for you in the coming year.

The lesson from childhood, however, remained true. It is now four days past New Year’s Eve and the fireworks have barely ceased (though the intensity has lessened). You can get sick, oh so sick, of fireworks. I am currently sitting in my apartment at one in the morning on a Thursday night listening to the echoes of distant fireworks. And this is only the relative beginning. Spring Festival, marked at the beginning by the Chinese New Year and at the end by the Lantern Festival, is two weeks of celebration filled with family, food and of course exploding gunpowder. Perhaps I should be more desensitized to them since fireworks are routinely set off for weddings, funerals, births, shop openings or any other occasion worth noting. (I used to do a one roman candle send off for friends from the US when they left). Yet I still get sick of them every year around this time.

I think what’s worse than the constant fireworks is the five minutes of car and bike alarms that follow any large display. (Yes, many of the electric bikes have alarms on them. I have no idea why since they are so easily set off and no one pays any attention to the alarms anyway. I am particularly un-fond of them as they are the music I wake up to every morning). Since the city doesn’t (as far as I know) put on an official firework display, the job is taken care of by regular citizens, setting off the fireworks generally right outside their apartment buildings. Sparks often bounce off buildings and rain down on the streets. The concussion from the explosions sets off all the alarms. I think car alarms and fireworks will be forever associated in my mind.

I would like know how much is spent each year in China on fireworks. Their relative cost of is much lower than in America but the quantity is huge. Besides the giant rolls of blackcats and other smaller firecrackers, the big sellers are the larger firework sets. These are boxes with nine, sixteen or twenty medium to large rockets. Each box has a single fuse that when lit will set off the rockets one at a time. I haven’t ever purchased any large rockets but have been told that the larger boxes run for $200 to $300 each. Perhaps I’ll have to make an investment before the holiday is over.

Well, there seems to be a break in the action so I am going to try to fall asleep before the next volley begins. Happy New Year and best wishes to all in the year of the Ox! Gong Xi Fa Cai and Xin Nian Kuai le(恭喜发财和新年快乐!)

I’m starting this post in the Shenzhen airport and I’m not sure where it will end. I’m on my way back from a weekend in Hong Kong. There won’t be any photos this time, as my camera is M.I.A. and my cell phone with a camera just died last week. So you’ll have to be sated with words. I had to make a dash out of the mainland before October 1 to renew my visa. I went early because October 1 is the Chinese National Day (equivalent to our 4th of July) and everyone gets a week off. The whole country bogs down for that week and traveling is a real pain. I like to buy a bunch of DVDs and lock my door during the public holidays here.

Work isn’t exactly what I do all the time but it’s what I think about most of the time. I just hired an engineer this week, who will start a week from Monday. This brings the size of the office to three people, including myself. I’m a little nervous about having enough work to keep everyone busy and being able to appear confident even when I have no idea what is going on (which is most of the time). I’ve learned more about coaxial cable, satellite components and power tools in the past months than I thought was possible. We haven’t bought anything yet but I’ve talked to plenty of factory bosses and sales managers. Making friends is really a big part of this initial phase of the office.

Business in China depends a lot on friendship (or at least the appearance of friendship). Generally the first contact I have with a factory is through email. These exchanges are usually brief and uninspired on the factory side. It’s assumed that you are either illegitimate or not worth the time. That’s not just the language barrier either; I get the same response even when I have Eric contact them in Chinese. However, that all changes when you show up and spend a day (or two) at the factory. By the end of the visit you are at least friends, if not brothers. Invitations are always extended for return trips to visit the countryside or spend the night in a KTV.

While it seems a little ridiculous, it’s actually a big part of my job. We are trying to develop one product but only want to make a small-ish number of them. The factory we were trying to work with wasn’t interested in even talking about the product until after I traveled four hours by bus and spent a night in a KTV, holding hands with a drunken boss and singing Backstreet Boys songs with him. After that he said there was no problem and gave us a quote right away.

This brings me to another part of my job: drinking. While college students in China are very straight-laced compared to US students, they more than make up for it once they enter the business world. Business suppers resemble frat parties where the pressure to drink and the competitiveness of drinking is generally the focal point. People save their empty bottles and compare throughout the night. Fortunately, I have a few advantages. First is intimidation. Unlike most Chinese men, I’m not allergic to alcohol, so I don’t turn red and start sweating after one small glass. Beyond that, Americans have a reputation for being able to drink large amounts. I make sure to neither confirm nor deny this. At one meal, a factory VP who hadn’t said anything to me the whole day turned to me with his glass and said, “Come on America Cowboy.” (Eric had a hard time translating “Giddy up” back to him). Second, we generally drink beer, and while it comes in one liter bottles, it’s usually only 1.9 to 3.1 percent alcohol. So my stomach fills long before the alcohol has an effect on me. My final and best weapon is Eric, who doesn’t drink. Together we form a “good cop, bad cop” team. Eric explains to host how it isn’t necessary to see who can drink more (implying it’s me), while I reluctantly do several “gan bei’s” (which literally means “dry glass” or “bottoms up”), simultaneous telling the host I shouldn’t drink more. It sounds strange but generally allows us to stop drinking early without anyone losing face. The worst part of this culture is when these competitions happen at lunch and we’re expected to still hold meetings in the afternoon. Fortunately I’ve been able to limit these big nights out to only a few a month.

While writing this post I’ve nearly missed my flight. I just made it through security and will be boarding soon. So I’ll have to end here. I’ll post more later and hopefully get pictures too.

Last Thursday I met a supplier, Jack Chao, outside my apartment to go with him to visit a couple of his company’s factories. He had emailed me earlier in the week but his message wasn’t clear. I thought I was going with him for the day and then meeting him again two days later to see another factory. As it turned out I was being taken on a three day journey around the province and being given the “valued customer” treatment. I grumbled a bit and ran back to my apartment to pack a quick overnight bag.

The first day started out fairly normal, visit a factory, meet with the general manager, tour the plant, and lunch in a four star hotel. I wasn’t in the best mood after discovering I was being kidnapped for three days but I was able to get over it as the day went on. In the afternoon we went in Jack’s car to the city of Linglong, a distance suburb of Hangzhou, about three hours away from Ningbo. We took an abbreviated tour of a factory then were taken to the Hand-in-Hand Inns to have a rest.

I should take a moment here to mention that when I say “we” I am referring to myself and Eric Wang, my assistant. I actually know him as Pioneer as that was his English name back when I met him In Shaoxing University, but now that he’s in the business world he needed a more professional name. I actually like Pioneer more, especially since it is a direct translation of his Chinese name, Xianfeng. As a student, Eric worked for the Foreign Affairs Department for a year helping the foreign teachers with everything from paying electric bills to coordinating major trips. He was so good at it that after he stopped working for the office teachers stopped going to the FA Dept for help and instead went straight to him. He worked as travel agent and interpreter for me several times. He graduated over a year ago and worked for Swedish and Portuguese companies before I stole him back. He has been a lifesaver several times in the past month.

We checked into our rooms and had an hour to relax before Jack came back with his wife to take us to dinner. Apparently Jack’s wife was from Linglong and lived there, while Jack was from Ningbo and lived there. They took us to a restaurant called “The Tortoise” that sat just above a mountain lake. Most of the food they served came from the lake or the hills around it. We were joined at the meal by Mr. Song, an engineer at the company, his wife and daughter, none of whom could speak English but Eric did a good job as my interpreter and representative. Dinner started with cold tea that was famous in that region and was supposed to have a cooling effect. The name of the tea is translated as “Snow in June.”

Nearly true to the name of the restaurant, one of the first dishes that came out was soft-shell turtle soup. The best pieces, part of the soft shell and a full leg (complete with claws and all) were promptly placed in my bowl. I was a little nervous about eating turtle after how sick I it made me following the Christmas Eve dinner a few years ago, but fortunately there was no repeat of that this time. I made the mistake of telling Jack’s wife that my favorite Chinese food came from Sichuan and Hunan, both known for their spicy dishes. She immediately started ordering the hottest dishes the restaurant had, one being just a bowl of chopped up hot red peppers. Each one was placed right in front of me and I was told to “Eat, eat” while everyone watched if I actually would.

After dinner we were given the choice of going to a KTV (karaoke) or for a foot massage. We opted for the foot massage. I’ve only had one other foot massage, while I was in Chengdu, and it was one of the more painful experiences I’ve had. My feet were left swollen and bruised and I had trouble walking for a couple of days afterwards. Again, there was not a repeat of that. Jack, his wife, Eric and I all sat in the same room and were served tea and watermelon. The foot massage included a pedicure as well as a complete back and leg massage. It was a fun, relaxing night especially because the masseuses were so fascinated to have a foreigner there. They spent most of the time laughing at me and plucking hair in amazement from my arms.

The next day was mostly spent at a factory working out the details of this or that product, and confirming and reconfirming this number or that. For lunch Jack and Mr. Song took us to a Sichuan restaurant where we had the spiciest hotpot they had. Along with the fiery soup we were served chickens' feet pickled in hot peppers and lamb kabobs buried under a mountain of dried red peppers and chili oil. The problem with hotpot is you eat way more than you want but you can’t stop, especially when your host won’t stop filling your bowl with the best pieces. By the time we left the restaurant my head was light, my mouth was on fire and my stomach was about to burst. I still had another four hours of meetings ahead of me. After battling through more numbers and specifications I was taken back to the same restaurant which I had just left hours earlier for yet another meal. It was the same group as the night before along with the addition of Mr. Wang, another engineer, his wife and twin daughters. I guess I was there to finish what I had started that afternoon since they served me the rest of the chicken (head and all). I could barely eat as I was still full from lunch but did a good job keeping food in my bowl and looking like I was chewing on something.

Following dinner we were drove out of the city and into the hills. We chased the tail end of a thunderstorm into the mountains, with flashes of lightening illuminating the hills and rain turning to steam on the hot asphalt. We drove up into TianMuShan, Heaven’s Eye Mountain (my own rough translation) and checked into a hotel that overlooked a small reservoir and dam. The air was cool and fresh, unlike the heavy blanket that sits over the rest of Zhejiang province most of the summer. So we just grabbed some chairs from the hotel restaurant and sat outside drinking more Snow in June tea. It was incredibly peaceful and a nice change from the city.

The next day we drove to a small temple and hiked up into the mountains behind it. Of course it was a very modern Chinese hike, on a paved road with a car honking its way up the mountain every four or five minutes. Ah, the sounds of nature. From there we went to Mr. Wang’s mother’s house for lunch. She lived in a small village on the same mountain.

I had seen Mr. Wang’s twin daughters, who were nine years old, at the dinner the night before but they had been too shy to talk to me. However, as I spent the next five hours at their grandmother's house eating and sitting around drinking tea, I slowly enticed them with my digital camera, taking pictures and showing them, then letting them take pictures with it. By the end of the day we had taken over 150 photos. After that we were good friends. Before I left some more neighbors came over including a little boy. One of the twins grabbed him and pulled him over to where I was sitting. She threw her arm around my shoulder and said, “This is an American,” and then said something else, which Eric translated for me as meaning “He’s my buddy.” (I’ve posted some more photos in my Gmail photo gallery http://picasaweb.google.com/schelljp/TianMuShan).

Before we left we had to wait as the Jack and the entire group of family, friends and neighbors went to Mr. Wang’s father’s grave. Mr. Wang’s father had died three weeks earlier and it is tradition to have a memorial ceremony every week for the first seven weeks after someone dies. So Eric and I waited in the car as everyone else climbed up the mountain to a grave site to burn paper money, light candles and set off fireworks. It’s now illegal to bury people in China but small villages still have cemeteries where families have plots to keep the ashes of the deceased. They are generally found on hillsides. I’m not sure if this has anything to do with the belief that ghosts travel a hundred feet off the ground.

After the ceremony it was a four-hour drive home (with a couple small detours) and one more dinner in Ningbo before Jack returned me to my home. Even though I was exhausted by the end of the trip, it had been a surprisingly good time. It was yet another example of how I normally have no idea what is going on, but as long as I stay relaxed and patient things tend to work out alright. That’s the China Machine.

I finally got around to throwing out all the boxes in my house and cleaning it up a bit. I was told that I had to keep all boxes the appliances came in. If any of them broke I needed the box in order to return it. I think it's a prank they play on all the new foreigners. They were taking up half my living room so I decided to throw caution to the wind (and the boxes, too). Besides, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, the most useful of all being the "Foreigner Temper-Tantrum," where I get angry and start yelling in English until someone fixes the situation. It's a last resort but useful at key moments. The point of all this is that I'm ready to show the world (or at least the few people who read this blog) my apartment. It's a charming little one bedroom with (as I just recently discovered) hot water in both the kitchen and bathroom.

I just recently went to the plant market and got a couple new friends. I'm hoping in a couple of weeks to get some more plants for my bedroom. One note about the bedding, you may have noticed the odd color choices. All I can say for that is that the choices (especially within my budget) were incredibly limited. Pink is the only color in the bedding aisle at the store. And I've been searching for the past month for a sheet large enough to not only cover the top of the mattress but also leave enough slack that it can be tucked in. Every morning I wake in a ball of sheets and quilt on a bare mattress. Another note about the mattress: it's hard. Really hard. But I'm told it's good for my health.

One other high point of this apartment is the location. Close to the river, close to my office, and extremely close to the building across the road that is being gutted. The jackhammers and saws start at 6 am, seven days a week. I'm slowly getting used to the noise but I have the strangest dreams right before waking up...

So this is my apartment, I'll be posting pictures of the office soon. Feel free to send house warming presents. Bottles of wine, scented candles and fitted sheets are all welcomed. Cheers!

You know it’s getting close to typhoon season when you’re walking in the rain with your umbrella in front of you instead of above. I’m sitting in my apartment listening to the thunder set off car alarms across the city. I’ve just returned from a meeting and lunch, and now I’m settling in the wait out the storm. Tropical storm Kalmaegi is working its way up the coast and I just found out that more than 232,000 people have been evacuated from four cities, including Ningbo (my city). But I’m not too worried about it. My building is only a year old and I’m only on the 7^th floor. So now I’m just going to take it easy and watch the amazing show.

As you probably already know, I am no longer teaching in China but instead am now here on business. While my title is the China Logistics General Manager my primary task is sourcing. That means finding factories that produce products we are looking for, making contact with them, getting samples, preparing contracts and eventually purchasing products from them. It’s a different world than teaching. A friend who picked me up at the airport shared a saying that I guess is common here. “When you’re a teacher in China you’re like the Panda: laughed at but protected.” She then continued with her own saying, “When you’re a businessman in China you’re like a Pangolin: a scaly anteater that is killed and ground up for medicinal purposes.” Not the best encouragement I’ve ever received.

So far things are going well. Today marks three full weeks that I’ve been in Ningbo. I have a small but comfortable apartment with a living room/kitchenette, bathroom and bedroom. I have a view of a parking lot and more apartment buildings. I have also rented out an office about two blocks away. Fortunately the view from there (on the 16^th floor) is much more impressive. The furniture for the office should arrive next week and it will finally hit me that I am working in China.

I hope to do a better job keeping up the blog this time than I did the last year I was here. So feel free to check for the occasional updates.

[I'm having troubles posting photos at the moment. I will try to update this post when I get them working, but until then, enjoy.]

I've returned from summering in the states and slowly getting back into the swing of things. Classes started three weeks ago and I am glad to be back, though a little stressed out. I am currently teaching three classes this semester: Oral English, “The Society and Culture of English-Speaking Countries” and “British Literature.” The Oral English class is for first year students and it is the same as I taught last year. I am only teaching three classes of it (6 hours a week) and I will hopefully give them up once another foreign teacher returns from her time in America. I don't mind teaching the class, it just requires a bit more energy than the other two. It's a lot like a performance every week. The “Society and Culture” class is also the same as I taught last year (more or less), which means its primary focus is on Britain with a little about Ireland and Australia on the end. I really don't have to spend much time prepping for this since it's the second time through. Once I get to the bit on Ireland and Australia it will be slightly more involved as I have not taught those yet. However, the class that has taken up most of my time and energy has been the English literature class. This is the true pain in my side (as well as having the most possibility for inspiration). For starters, the majority of the book I am teaching out of is in Chinese. Only the excerpts are in English. So I have no idea what the book is saying about the writers or the text and it could (very well – knowing the Chinese school system) be contradicting everything I'm saying. Basically I have to write my own text book based around these samples. So there are a number of challenges.

I have taught two classes so far and both have gone surprisingly well. Both were on the topic of Shakespeare. The first class was Sonnet 18 (“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou are more lovely and more temperate...”). I had a lot of fun teaching them iambic pentameter and having them recite the poem with me. It was also a thrill to see their eyes light up when I explained it's meaning to them. (The beauty of the Young Man brought to life in China 400 years after the sonnet was written.) The second week of class was on Hamlet, one of my favorites. I brought an umbrella to class to use as a sword and a melon to act as poor Yorkic's skull. I charged around the classroom berating a frighten (and I think confused) Gertrude and stabbing Polonius (a very Asian-looking Dane), hiding behind a window curtain, finally dropping in the middle of the class after being cut by a poisoned blade. It may have been more fun for me than for the students. However, the best part of this class so far has been the poetry. At the end of the first class I gave the students about fifteen minutes to write a poem (either by themselves or with a partner) where they compare a person with nature. Below are some of my favorites. (Don't worry, I got their permission to publish these beforehand). Some are hilarious and a few are very powerful (I think a few may even be about me!):

His body is strong as a horse
His eyes are like pearls
His beard is like a broom
His ears are like fans
His heart is like the open sea


Your nose is like a mountain
You are snow white
Your eyes are like two grapes.
Your eyelashes are like brushes.
Your legs are chopsticks.
You are like a bear.
You are a piece of paper.
You are like a bar of chocolate
Your clothes make you like a Christmas tree.


Her eyes were two springs.
Her eyebrows like willows
Her hair was like a fried dough twist
Her song like the sounds of nature.


The first time I saw you, you were like a beautiful flower.
But just allow to look from a hill.
The second time I saw you, you were like air.
I can't catch, but I can feel it.
The third time I saw you, you were like a dark day.
Your life, your face is a secret.
The last time I saw you, you were like ice
I can't remember you, and you forget me.


You were a dancing butterfly
Slip into my heart and never gone
Since then my heart open a flower
You were the water makes me grow up


You are the wind in Spring
When you leave me your voice is still blowing around my ears.

You are the sun in Summer
When you leave me your passion is still burning my heart

You are the fruits in Fall
When you leave me your rich love is still with me

You are the fire in Winter
When you are leave me your temperature is still in my body.


My life like a still river
With an ordinary heart.
No great happy and also danger.
Like a perfect art.


Sweet Cake
Shall I compare you to a sweet cake?
You are more lovely and more sweet
Your eyes like two black grapes on the fruit cake.
Your attractive lips are as red as cherries.
And your black-oiled hair strikes my heart.
My sweet cake, I am eager to win your affection.


Three's Company
I have new neighbors downstairs. My friends Andy and Mary (Palmer) Welters have come from Minnesota to teach in the same school as me. Mary is a wonderful cook so I haven't gone hungry, and Andy and I have taught some of the other Chinese teachers a thing or two about basketball—usually what not to do. The only bad part is that I have to move my tap-dancing rehearsals to a more reasonable hour. It's great to be able to escape my apartment and not have to leave the building. Before I would have to walk all the way across campus to find friends, now it's just down the stairs.

Just a note about the weather: I should mention that fall came. It arrived at about 2:30 am on Friday, two weeks ago. I say that only half joking; the seasons change here like someone simply throwing a switch. So different from Minnesota where you don't know if fall is really here until sometime after Christmas. Now the air is cool, but very damp. It is so different from last year. I remember standing in front of classes with a stream of sweat rolling down my back. Now even in the first week I am wearing a fleece jacket. I hope this doesn't mean we're in for an extra cold winter, last year's was bad enough. The sun didn’t show for the first two weeks I was here and it rained every day for ten days straight, but this last weekend was great and today the sun is shining. I guess I just have to be happy with what I get.

Next week is the National Holiday (you may recall last year I spent it in Shanghai with Bryan and Krissy). This year I am going to Beijing with the Brazilians, Alex the Swede, and my two Russian friends, Victoria and Olga. It will be the absolute peak of the travel season but the only time we can go. So if I make it back, look for a post on it soon.

[I actually wrote this post last July before I left but I didn't have enough time to proofread it or add a lot pictures, but I will publish it here anyways. Take it for what it's worth. JP]

It's been a while since I've written here. My apologies to you, the faithful few who continue to check this blog. Anyways, the last few months have been so full and strange and at the same time it feels as if it has simply been life as usual. You know you've been in China too long when there is nothing strange about the chicken in the clothing store or the child squatting to pee on the sidewalk through the split in the back of his pants. (The split-back pants replace the diaper here at a very young age. It's a form of potty training, but it makes holding a baby as exhilarating as holding a time bomb). So let me take a few minutes here and catch you up on some of the happening of the last few months.

Changsha, Hunan
My friend Krissy Solomon (who came to visit when Bryan and I went to Shanghai last fall) has spent the last year teaching in Changsha (in Hunan province). It is located south and west of Shaoxing, in the middle of the country, a seventeen-hour train ride away. It is known—for good reason—as “the Oven” for its temperature in summer; it is also the birthplace of Chairman Mao. I took two trips to Changsha this semester, one in March and another just a week ago. So you ask, besides the heat and Mao Zedong, what is the great draw of Changsha? Well, it has the largest concentration of Minnesotans I've found in all of China. (Sometimes you just need to reminisce about hotdish, don't you know?) There is an informal connection between one of the colleges in Changsha and St. John's/St. Ben's. In fact, this university offered me a job two years ago, right after I graduated. I forgot all about this until I was there. During my first trip there, my good friend Anesh Patel was also in Changsha visiting his fiancé, Maytsua, who was teaching there. Anesh was on his way home from teaching in India and was vacationing in Hunan.

There were many highlights from the two trips, but the best part had to be visiting not one but the two Wal-Marts in town. I was amazed to see them; they look almost the same as in the US, with the exception of the live frogs and snakes. I didn't buy anything there, except for a couple of bottles of Samuel Adam's beer, and boy was that a treat. On the second trip there I went with Krissy to help teach two of her kindergarten classes. The kids were about three years old. The first class just stood in stunned silence looking at me (until one of them started to do karate at me, then the other followed). The second class all ran up to me, trying to touch or hug my legs. They started calling me “wai guo gege” (外国哥哥) which means “foreign country older brother,” or more accurately “barbarian brother.” It was quite funny. I played a game with them and gave them candy. I enjoyed it but I don't think I could teach kids that age all the time.

Teaching
I have been unemployed for about three weeks and am going a little batty, so I have decided to break my contract in as many ways as I can this week. I am prohibited from working outside the school without their permission, but I am assured that many people do it anyways. So this week I am teaching primary school students in the mornings and afternoons at a special summer school, I am running a couple English Corners for adults in the evening, and in my free time I am tutoring a private student. It is a sprint to the end to save my sanity and my bank account. So am I worried about flagrantly boasting about my illicit teaching activities on the internet? Not at all, I'm proud to say this blog has been censored in China. No one inside the country can read it.

Yesterday, Sunday, I “taught” my first class of primary students. After traveling for nearly an hour in stifling heat and climbing eight flights of steps to reach the school, I was ushered into a small room with about 15 students and 15 parents. I hadn't prepared anything to teach, nor had I been told what to expect. So after a brief introduction, I was told the students would introduce themselves and I would ask them some simple questions. What actually happen was each student came up said his or her name and the school he or she went to, then I would ask one or two very simple questions about age, school, or family, which they would usually answer with only a word or two. Afterwards, I was told to go around the room and give my analysis of each student based on their two word answers. I told the head of the school, who was in the class with me, that I couldn't possible give an analysis of each student with so little interaction with them. I was then told make something up and he would translate it into Chinese for the parents. I then realize what I really was, a status symbol for the school, so the head could point to me and say “look we have a real foreign expert!” I left feeling dirty and used. I have another class later this morning, I interested to see if I'm will get more “creative control” or if I will remain just another pretty face.

The Bucket
I bought a bucket last week, a blue one, plastic, for household chores and other random tasks. I bought it a shop down the street from my house and on the way back home I stopped at the wet market to buy some vegetables and meat for dinner. Now Shaoxing is a fairly large city and people are not too surprised to see an occasional foreigner walking down the main street or shopping at one of large supermarkets, but it still comes as a shock to see one walking through the aisles of fresh fruit, vegetables and meat of the wet market. As if this were one of the last refuges of pure China, the starting place of the famous Chinese dishes. Foreigners are still few and far between here. I go to this market at least a few times a month and some of the vendors know me, but I still get open mouthed-stares from most of the patrons. That day it was especially true. I loved watching the mental process of people trying to understand the strange image of a lao wai (foreigner) with a blue bucket. “What is he doing here? Why does he have a blue bucket? Is his presence here more confounding than the bucket, or since I do not expect to see him at all, should the bucket surprise me at all? Why wouldn't he have a bucket if he were here?…” Some people are so shocked by the general appearance of foreigners that it would have made little difference if I had been wearing the bucket on my head. I still would have gotten those same stares of disbelief. It always fun “freaking out the squares” as Stefan used to call it.

The Birthday
The morning of June 24th found me in a windowless hotel room with two Brazilians in sketchy part of Shanghai. I had gone the day before with some friends to give our friend, Erben, a farewell/bachelor party as he was leaving for the states to get married that day. The party was a bit of a bust since I spent all my money just paying cover charges to get into the trendiest bars in town (and once I got in, I stood out even more than I do in the streets of Shaoxing). Most of my birthday was spent wandering the hot streets of Shanghai; I didn't return to Shaoxing until 10 pm that night. I thought the day was going to be a bust, but my friends pull through in true style. I went with a small group of people to my friend Wilda's teahouse/bar. There we had a few drinks and a late dinner. However, word had gotten out that it was my birthday and more people continued to call and show up. Before the night was over, we had packed the teahouse and drank all the cold beer. Wilda had even bought me a small cake, which Claudio smeared across my face—Wilda later confirmed that this was a Chinese tradition. I think they may have been in cahoots. It turned out to be a great night that ended shortly before 8 am after we had searched the streets of Shaoxing for a good breakfast vendor.

I just returned from Hangzhou after spending two great nights there with a fun group of people. It is May Day, the Chinese Labor Day, and one of three major holidays where everyone gets seven (well-earned) days off. (Most people work between six and seven days a week). Needless to say traveling can get a bit tricky at this time of year, when the equivalent of the entire United State's population tries to travel on the same day. Regardless, we decided to throw caution to the wind and head to Hangzhou for two nights.

We were an international delegation, made up of people from all over. These are people who I have been spending a good deal of my time with, especially on the weekends. The group is made up of the following:

The Brazilians, Claudio and Jordão. Claudio is hilarious and always full of energy. He is always telling stories that make him laugh harder than anyone else; his favorite pastime is talking, joking, picking up and spinning around random people he meets on the street. Jordão, the baby of the group at 20 years old, is much more laid back. He can fall asleep anywhere (and frequently does). This weekend was the first time I saw him worked up; it happened when I asked him how he felt about Argentineans. Apparently Brazil and Argentina aren't on the dearest of terms. It was hilarious listening to him explain how Argentina thinks they are the best at football (soccer) but they have only won two World Cups while Brazil has won five, and they will tell you Pele played for them, and... However, he does like Argentinean woman, and we just happened to run into one last night. It was fine as long as they avoided the topic of football.

Murray is Scottish and an avid soccer player and fan. Like Jordão, he is often quiet. Part of it could be that his accent is so thick that no one can understand what he is saying. We are all amazed that he once taught English to Chinese student. I would like to hear what they sound like now. But Murray is a friendly guy and always up for a quiet pint. Though he is only 22, he has been in Shaoxing for two years already, and speaks Mandarin with a great Scottish accent.

Nathan is a chain-smoking cynic from Indianapolis. He's got a quick wit, keen perception and won't hesitate to put you in your place. He loves to talk and share bits of information he has discovered (or invented). Like everyone else here, he is an interesting guy. He's twenty-five and has been here for two years. Before that he spent some time in Russia. This trip allowed me a chance to get to know him better, which I am quite happy about. I can see us becoming quite good friends.

Stefan is from Morris, Minnesota and is a student at the U of M there. He came to Shaoxing by himself in February as part of a school program. He worked here as a teaching assistant. Sadly, he is heading back to the states on Friday. It was great to have another Minnesotan around. He is laid back and willing to try anything. We, together with another teacher (Georgina, an Aussie), have been going to yoga together – which is another blog in itself. I am going to miss him when he goes.

Erben is the Turkish textile king of Shaoxing. He is from Istanbul and we have had many conversations about how it is the most mysterious and fantastic city in the world. While I am not exactly sure what his business is, I know that it has something to do with textiles and that half the foreigners in Shaoxing work for him, including Murray, Nathan, Claudio and Jordão. He also is the owner of the (soon to be closed) Turkish Bar, which we used to frequent. If I had to guess, I would say he is in his mid-twenties. Like most Turks I've met, he is a big man, both in body and in personality. He is very passionate and grand, and seldom troubled to use subtly, a definite contrast to the mild-mannered Chinese. Erben's fiancé, Chantel is Persian (or so she says). Her parents are from Iran but she is American and grew up in the southwest (Arizona and California). Yet she still has some wonderfully Middle Eastern traits about her. Like Erben, she is also dramatic and full of loud energy; plus she can belly dance (which she tried to teach me last night, without success. She said it's all in the legs, but I checked and I'm pretty sure it's not there, at least not in mine). I've been invited to both their weddings this summer, one in San Diego and the other in Istanbul. I have to say that both are tempting offers...

The eight of us stayed in three rooms in the West Lake Hotel and met up with Alex, a roaming Swede, who was also in town visiting a Chinese girl (named Even – as in not odd). Alex is classic European, pretty friendly, though a bit snobbish at times. I don't think he fully appreciated the fact that I drive a Volvo. Alex is continually flying back to Sweden to go skiing and see friends. I'm not exactly sure what he does in Shaoxing but I am sure it has to do with the textile industry.

We arrived in town around eight-thirty, chauffeured by Erben in his van, the only one of us rich (and crazy) enough to own a car here. We checked into our hotel, freshened up, and then caught a cab across town to a reggae bar near Zhejiang University. I sat drinking a European-sized pint of Tiger beer surrounded by pictures of Bob Marley and Chinese college students watching Stefan have a dance-off with a couple of Japanese guys he met. I don't remember who won. It was also here that I had the finer points of the international relations between the two largest countries in South America explained to me with great gusto.

From there we went to the Traveler's bar, which was pretty quiet. Stefan and I regaled the bar patrons with a jazzed up version of "Heart and Soul" on the piano. Actually, Stefan is a music major, and though his main instrument is the saxophone, he is more than proficient on the keyboard. I just played the base part (poorly) and let him do his thing on the high end. Pianos are still fairly rare here so I don't think people are nearly as sick of this song as most Americans are.

I ended the night at a dance club called S.O.S. getting elbowed and punched on a crowded dance floor. I left bruised and beaten around three a.m.

The next day, Sunday, Nathan, Murray, Claudio and I woke up early-ish and walked twenty minutes to West Lake, one of the top tourist attractions in China (for Chinese people). It is a big, beautiful lake with a few islands and crossed in the middle by a nearly-natural causeway. We found a Starbucks tucked into a bamboo woods; we had coffee and waited for everyone else to join us. Once we were all together we went to an Italian restaurant for lunch. I had a mediocre spaghetti alla bolognese, which was still a treat. Following lunch the group disbanded, with Stefan and Claudio going off to rent bicycles, Erben and Chantel going to the cinema, and Nathan, Murray, Jordão and I setting off on a six-hour hike around the lake, occasionally stopping to buy a beer or a hard-boiled egg (boiled in green tea) . When we had completed our walk, we caught a cab to Zhejiang University for dinner at the school cafeteria. Apparently it makes some of the best food in the city and is also the cheapest. (I found this out from Nathan who spent a month here when he was a student).

That night we all met back up together at a salsa bar with a live band (well, a keyboard and guitar). I spent a wonderful night dancing like a fool, spinning and being spun by girls from around the world. Alex's friend, Even, turned out to be quite a dancer and we had a great time flying around the dance floor together, we even got applause for our tango.

We called it a night around three when we went back to hotel. Stefan, Jordão and I stopped to get some late night fried noodles. This morning we checked out of our hotel and headed for home (after picking up a few essentials from the Carrefour's, the super market that sells a lot of western food). It was a great trip and one of the best times I've had here. I don't have classes this week but I am going to a wedding tomorrow, which, I'm told, are pretty crazy. So stay tuned.

P.S. I have told some people, but incase I forgot to mention it, I have agreed to teach here for another semester. I will come back to Minnesota in the beginning of July and stay there through most of August, then it's back to Shaoxing. I am looking forward to seeing as many of you as I can when I am back.