Horse, horse, tiger, tiger

...Which is pronounced mama huhu, and actually means "so-so."

Don't ask.

I've been meaning to do a post on learning Chinese for a while. We get free evening classes, which is generous and cool. How useful they are is an object of debate. There seem to be many problems associated with studying Chinese: the pinyn, which means getting used to sounds not corresponding to letters, and some sounds being almost unpronounceable anyway. As in zh and c being pronounced respectively zd (sort of) and ts. But don't quote me on this. Then there are the tones. Why a language thought it made sense to evolve with tones is beyond me. It looks like some divine curse. But they're there, and need to be practiced and learned, at least a bit. Then there's the writing, obviously, without even the comfort of Japanese kana (incidentally, when I studied Hebrew, and proferred the sentence "if I ever take another language, it will have the Roman alphabet",  if there is a God or some other superior entity he must have laughed very loudly).

However, the classes supply some basis, even if it's not ideal, especially as I've never been a champion of self-discipline and pure self-study doesn't work for me. I've also discovered a neat trick. The laoshe (teacher) you have a total of three hours a week is not the only laoshe you have. There are scores of them. Cleaning ladies and repairmen talk to me, I repeat stuff like a kid, sometimes guess and infer meanings. I point at fruit and vegetables at the market and the sellers say the names (except one lady who wants to practice her English--that's unfair!). People talk to each other, say hello, good bye, how are you with perfect tones, obviously. Anyone can be your teacher (for  little orfree, or sometimes providing additional services) and the world your language classroom.

On being "green"

It's ironic, in some ways, that it's I've wound up in China as a result, amongst other things, of having studied immigration in American literature, where a concept that comes up regularly is that of being "green" or a "greenhorn." There's an early 20th century Jewish novel where the protagonist hears comments of "here comes a green one."For Chinese Americans, it's sometimes referred to as being "fresh off the boat" or "f.ob." (does that make me a "fop", as in fresh off the plane?? not sure I want to be that...)

That's what I feel like, most of the time. I'm no stranger to culture shock, but paradoxically that makes me impatient to adapt. Sticking out as a Caucasian isn't much of an issue because as mentioned before, I feel invisible, a white ghost, it is the case to say. The lack of language frustrates me to no end, but hopefully I can start learning it soon. And it's other, smaller things. The non-heated spaceb(sorry I keep bringing this up but it hit me hard), the endless rains, for instance. I'm still waiting for this dramatic change in weather where yes, I shall be bound to kvetch endlessly about being too hot.

But, perhaps, there are little things that are moving me in the opposite direction towards what- a Chinese-tion of some kind? Maybe that's too much. Just plain old human adaptability? Meeting my neighbour, Tanya, who's from the Ukraine and speaks perfect Chinese (ok, admittedly I  can't judge if it's perfect but she's with no doubt extremely fluent-hey she's planning to read The Three Kingdoms in the original, it's taking me forever to read it in translation!) has meant that she's been acting like a filter between me and the rest of the world. I'm also dealing to the best of my abilities with the weather. My nice leather shoes from Clark's and Camper's were literally soaked, but investing in a pair of pale pink rubber boots for the equivalent of 7 dollars (guiltfree "Made in China"!) has made my daily life far easier. So has investing in a padded housecoat. It's bright red and I just hope not too many people drop by unannounced. So I'm slightly less freezing at home.

It's a process, I guess.

The eagle has landed (the eagle being me)

So, after 15 hours by plane, 4 by car, I finally made it to my present basis of operation in China. My present condition (a natural symptom of culture shock, I suppose) is of walking around as if under the effect of a slight concussion. Some things, from what I've seen, I like, such as the nitty-gritty atmosphere with food and random stuff all over the place. I'm also developing an addiction to Chinese style aubergines. Yum. The campus where I'm working is pretty, and likely to be prettier when spring starts. Some things less pleasant I was prepared to, such as the less than ideal hygene standards. Something I was mightily unprepared for is the cold.

It's COLD. But it's not that cold outside actually. Rainy perhaps, but ok. It's cold inside. As in, virtually no heating whatsoever. It's been explained to me that it's the norm in southern China and it will get really warm soon (but how soon?). Sitting around a blistering hot apartment seems promising right now. And to think there was a time when I took taking off my coat when going inside for granted. And I discovered the joys of thermal underwear.

To summarize what has happened since I arrived on Friday night I:

- was settled in a hotel, people ordered very copious amounts of food for me, I was told in China you can't share eggs with people because they're a symbol of harmony. Whatever, happy Chinese egg to me (it was also Valentine's day and red lantern day--overtones of Zhang Ymou??)


- met a bunch of old China hands. There seems to be a sort of "Westtown."

- ate instant noodles with chopsticks, while wearing a padded waistcoat-this made me feel very Chinese. I also bought a wok, which I'm not sure how much I'm going to use, since food is plentiful and good outside, but it makes me feel at home and Chinese!

- experienced racial invisibilty. Ok, one kid in the bank came to see me close, otherwise I get the sense of not existing, at times. The experience is very different from being in Japan (ok, each time I bring up Japan, everyone, Chinese or never fails to remind me that it's not the same thing at all. Which I know but--ideograms and chopsticks, anyone?) where the gaijin is viewed with a mixture of sympathy, surprise and pity, since it's not his fault that he's a bit obakasan). It's the kind of thing that makes you realize how white privilege is internalized, in the odd situation where the tables are turned.

- went to an interesting medical check up. You go through various stations, and they check if you're colour-blind or have tb or a bad heart. It wasn't as unpleasant as I had foreseen. At least no one used a glove hook to check if I had trychoma.

- filled my thermos with tea, Chinese style but made very bitter tea. The bitter tea of Dr Francesca X, instead of General Yen (I got to watch that movie. Maybe it's about a guy who put too many leaves in his thermos). I also developed a taste for hot water. Tap water is a no-no otherwise.

So, this is the chronicle of my first few days. Feeling frazzled but interested.