ATL 2009

Beijing winter 2009

Beijing this winter, in pictures!

kaoya + chrysanthemum tea with sugar with Irene + friends, restaurant near Dong Sishi Tiao.








bibimbap, restaurant at Xidan


Bird's Nest. Victory: I had gone on every line of the Beijing Subway this winter except 8 (the one that extends off of the Red Line). The square looked very sparkly for the holidays!

Christmas snowmen and santas, all shapes and sizes, oh my!

Wow, white people are really white.

I have realized, following a conversation with the inimitable Shelly, that I never concluded my summer in the Orient. Now, you have all heard the story of how exactly it all ended, but I thought for the sake of both closure and my own fleeting memory, I shall set it down in writing. I shall warn ye briefly that this is going to be epic, as I try very hard to remember the details of my two-day ordeal.

I was scheduled to leave Harbin on August 9th, the day after the Olympic Opening Ceremony: a flight to Shanghai, and then to Atlanta. My exams were thus scheduled for Wednesday, leaving Thursday for concluding ceremonies ("graduation") and Friday for packing. To celebrate a job (not so) well done on the exams, I headed out with a group of my peers to play a game of frisbee -- it was a tradition of sorts among a few of us to play a casual game of pick-up every once in a while on a sketchy field on the outskirts of campus, littered with glass and weeds as high as our knees. During warm up, one student threw a floaty disc that hovered in the middle of the circle of players, and both B (my roommate) and I made a break for it. We were running full sprint for the disc, and B's shoulder collided with mine, and I fell to the ground, sans disc. B was left standing, victorious.

The problem was this: there was an audible snap. I stood up and walked off the field towards the water, reeling from the impact but not noticing anything except a dull ache. I didn't notice anything wrong until Beth came to check on me -- there was a distinct bump in the front of my shoulder on one side that was not on the other. B dismissed this, saying it felt fine. "Go on and play," I told her. "I'll join in later once I feel better, though I'll probably be playing left-handed." I thought, in my somewhat addled brain, that it might just be a muscle knot forming. Beth left, and almost immediately I knew it was worse than that -- I couldn't move my right arm. I had a sudden, tunneling vision of the hospital I knew was awaiting me -- lying in a ward alone as all of my peers (both American and Chinese) left as planned for home. "B!" I cried, somewhat strangled. She rushed over, and then called Afton, who was an emergency-trained specialist. By this point, my vision was tunneling and I was having trouble breathing -- purple spots were exploding in my eyes.

"She's going to pass out," someone said. I sat down so as to prevent that and concentrated on breathing, though it hurt every time I did so. One guy made a temporary sling out of his foul-smelling shirt, to no effect; I ended up holding my arm in place for about four hours. Wang Xu ran to go get a taxi, and he, B and E accompanied me into the taxi and to the hospital. The taxi driver kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, likely wondering why on earth I was so pale (more so than usual, I was told by numerous people. Hard to believe, I know) and worrying that I might throw up all over his interior. It was a definite possibility. I'm convinced he managed to hit every pot hole on our way to the hospital, not to mention that he drove us to the wrong one first, only getting it right the second time per Wang Xu's adamant instructions: 哈尔滨医科大学附属第二医院, Harbin Medical University, the Second Affiliated Hospital. I wonder what the first affiliated hospital was.

Inside the hospital, my friends had gotten the technicalities down to a precise science -- two students had gone before to the hospital about appendixes (one even had an appendectomy), another had gone because of a broken foot (and also had surgery) and someone else had gone because of stomach problems. I sat down on an examination table while two doctors ignored me and talked to themselves about something else. Then they asked B and Wang Xu why the weird foreigner was staring blankly at the wall and clutching at herself. (E and B very kindly helped me lie down, which eased the awkward clutching and pain a bit -- flies continued to land on the shirt-sling, however, and it was gross). The doctor got my paperwork together ("What's your last name?" he asked in Chinese. "Gu," B and I replied. He then proceeded to write the "gu" that means bone rather than my surname, and I almost laughed hysterically), and after a few minutes debating what was wrong with me and hearing three different explanations, they decided to take my x-ray.

"Follow me," a new doctor grunted at me in English, obviously one of the only things he knew how to say. "This is going to get obnoxious," B muttered. I followed a procession down the hall, dodging a pool of blood -- J, the American coordinator of the scholarship; Peggy, the Chinese coordinator; Wu Fei, my Chinese professor who had rushed over when she heard I was injured; Yuan Ke, my Chinese tutor who had come along; Wang Xu; B; and E. I had quite the posse. An English sign reading "Rediology Actinogram Room" alerted me that we had arrived at our destination, and I was led in to a large room. "Drop your arm," the doctor told me. I glared at him and stoutly refused, and he shrugged and walked away. My posse was standing in the hallway, watching; a giant sliding door not unlike what would be used in a fall-out shelter began to close between us. I looked at B. "Is this how superheroes are made?" I said, somewhat strangled. I was having flashes of Bruce Banner and gamma rays. "Yes," she nodded, and waved.

There was a zap, and then the doctor was right in front of me again, this time with my x-ray. I blinked -- weren't they supposed to warn me? Ask me if I were pregnant or something? Anyway, the doctor nodded and said loudly, in English again, "Fracture." A fracture? I relaxed somewhat -- that was nothing; they'd grab me a brace and I'd leave. Then he handed me the x-ray, and I was able to confirm two things: 1) the doctor did not have a clear understanding of English medical terms such as "fracture", and 2) my collarbone was broken in half.

The doctor said surgery was needed, and that I would need to stay in the hospital seven to nine days afterwards. Absolutely not, was my vehement position. I'm leaving for home in three days -- if need be just give me a sling and some Vicodin. J was trying to be reasonable as Peggy talked with the doctors and I sulked in a corner, clutching my arm as always. He told me that the doctors were worried about me flying in my condition, that my broken bone could be alarmingly close to a vein. "Will it result in death?" I asked, being obnoxious and in a bad mood because, well, my collarbone was snapped in half. "Because short of death, I'm leaving on Saturday." B was a champ and stood by my side the whole time, though I could tell she was worried about words like "vein", "plane" and um... "death".

Finally J convinced me to at least converse with their head doctor, Dr Hao, who had done his residency in Pittsburgh and had operated on my classmate with the broken foot. They marched me outside to another building -- my posse had shrunk by this time to B, Wang Xu, J, Yuan Ke and Peggy. Another sign announced my destination: Traumatic Plastic and Hand Surg Department. Dr Hao was amazingly competent -- he glanced at my x-ray, looked at me, then said he could have me in surgery my eight o'clock and out of the hospital by Friday afternoon. Yeah, sure, I said, surprised. Everyone else was relieved.

They then threw me into a hospital room with a woman whose hand had been mangled in some factory accident; her husband was there as well. There was some staring involved, but B took care of the talking while I mostly just lay on the bed and continued clutching my arm together -- any movement hurt so it was absolutely essential to me that there was a great deal of lying still.

A bunch of nurses came in and drew blood, asked about allergies and when I had last eaten, and they gave me a shot to test whether I was allergic to something. They were all very impressed that I could mutter Chinese around the chattering of my teeth. One nurse came in and shaved my entire arm -- I don't know why my wrist needed to be as hairless as my shoulder, but I said nothing. She then tried to make me lift up my arm so she could shave my underarm, but B and I educated her on American women's shaving peculiarities. She looked at my other underarm and was satisfied enough to let it be. Some other nurses then asked me if I wanted to be completely under or if I just wanted my shoulder to be numb. WTF? I thought. Sedate me as much as possible, duh. "Good, that's what the doctors wanted anyway."

My posse grew again -- my classmate JY came for moral support as soon as she'd heard, accompanied by the two students who had had surgery before at this very hospital -- M and "Lamar". They were life-savers. Everyone looked at my x-ray and exclaimed (M winced and looked pale, which made me worry slightly). Then there was some talk about catheters but I immediately told everyone to shut up or risk me being violently ill.

Eventually the time came to go to the surgery room, which was located several floors down. They had me get onto a gurney, which was mortifyingly embarrassing, but I was secretly grateful because I could close my eyes and ignore all the staring and think about how this was the first surgery I had ever had in my life (except for a rather unremarkable wisdom-tooth removal in my delicate pre-teen years). I had been shaking uncontrollably for a while now, due mostly to the fact that I was keeping so rigid to avoid moving and jostling my arm that it was literally causing my muscles to seize up. Lamar, M (hobbling on crutches), B and JY escorted me with the nurses.

It was eerily quiet in the room where they wheeled me in and transferred me to the surgery rolling table; only Lamar was allowed to continue into the room, while B promised to be waiting outside when the surgery was over. One nurse spoke a few sentences in English. Then, seeing that I understood Chinese, they told me about what to expect in surgery -- when I woke up, they would ask me to do basic functions like open my mouth, etc., to see if I was fully conscious. They would also have to stick a giant tube down my throat so I could breathe while under anesthesia (this one took me a bit longer to understand -- "You're putting WHAT down my throat?"), so I shouldn't be surprised if my throat hurt. I then requested that they save my sports bra, because I really like it and it was expensive (Underarmour is spectacular, friends); they agreed to do their best.

Lamar saved my sanity during all of the waiting by giving me coaching techniques on not panicking; he had had the opportunity, when his surgery was in the afternoon, to talk to other patients being wheeled around. "An appendectomy?" they said, "That's nothing!" So he told me to ignore everyone, close my eyes, and breathe. He stayed with me until the nurses wheeled me into the surgery room.

The nurses were offering me consoling words as they rearranged me, swathed my shoulder, prepared the monitoring machines, and cut off my shirt (my Georgetown Forever shirt I'd had since freshman year. RIP, somewhere in a Chinese landfill). They continually exclaimed to each other that I understood them. The doctor requested the x-ray so he would know what he was supposed to be doing -- this was a little alarming, I have to admit.

As they lowered the anesthesia towards my face, one nurse commented to another, looking at me underneath the glaring lights of the sterile room, "Wow, white people are really white. (白人真白）" And then apparently thinking of Lamar waiting with me in the other room, she added, "And black people are really black!" I felt an obscene moment of absolute clarity regarding the kafkaesque absurdity of life, and then I was completely unconscious.

Coming up next in my enthralling installment: my post-surgery stay in the hospital, including non-stop broadcasts of celebrities singing Olympic songs, eating left-handed with chopsticks and bonding with other patients in the ward.

Of farmers and freedom

This past Friday heralded a fairly auspicious holiday amongst we Americans, being, that is, the anniversary of our Declaration of Independence and thorough thumbing of King George and England. This also marked the second such Independence Day that I have celebrated in China, last year being in Beijing. I found that my ability to celebrate such an event to be rather stifled in that I was lacking in essential ingredients -- that is, fireworks, barbeques, and large crowds of inebriated Americans. Luckily, that weekend I managed to find all necessary ingredients to successfully celebrate the 4th -- in a rural village called Maoershan.

The weekend was intended for a chance for us Americans, being mostly from cities around the country, to experience life in a traditional farming village ('nongcun'). This tiny area is called Maoershan after a mountain that resembles a hat. The weekend was kicked off when someone thought it would be a good idea to climb to the top of that hat, and somehow I thought it would be a good idea to agree. The funny thing about mountains in China, however, is that they are basically large Stair Masters (TM) -- stairs lead almost all the way to the top, and with a 'direct is faster' approach causing the stairs to be unbelievably steep. I somehow made it to the top, after scaling a stretch of sheer rock, helped only by rickety chains and a few footholds. It was absolutely worth it, of course; 会当凌绝顶，一览众山小 as the poets sing. We had to then hurry down the muddy, slippery rock face and stairs as it was about to rain. Afterwards, we were rewarded for our bravery and endurance with a public bathhouse where we could shower off the sweat and mud and grime -- and truly, showering with one's professor is quite a new experience for me.

Anyway, the extent to which the goal of experiencing Chinese farming life was reached can be easily doubted, but nevertheless that night we celebrated with a bonfire, fireworks launching all over the two-street radius that made up the tiny village, chuanr (or sticks of meat) roasted over barbeques (one of which fell on my leg), large quantities of Snow Beer, and -- of course -- karaoke.

Now, karaoke is without a doubt the leisure pastime of choice for many Chinese. Outside of our own American celebration, there were two other parties going on in this minuscule village, centered around karaoke. I decided to further investigate these areas. In one, there was also a bonfire, where men were running and jumping through the flames. When they saw me and a couple other Americans, they waved and shouted at us to join them. I declined on the fire jumping, instead politely applauding when the jumper's pants did not, in fact, catch on fire.

The other party was far more low key, but I am proud to say that with a few other students, we turned their quiet evening of relaxation and singing into a raging dance party. I also managed to talk with a girl who had just taken her college entrance exams, and her father who -- like many others -- thought that wearing a shirt was unnecessary.

And that was how I celebrated America's Day of Independence. That aside, I may still know nothing about farming in China, but I've become a champ at singing Theresa Deng in karaoke.

Miss you all!

From (near) Russia, with love.

One thing about China that I have managed to forget -- or at least push to the back of my mind -- is how every step out of the haven of my room is usually an (un)fortunate misadventure of some kind. Take, for example, my foray to go swimming yesterday. With the company of two other students, I made my brave way across campus towards this chemically-laden waterhole. Once there, our predictions about hidden loopholes involving money came to fruition -- particularly, we were all made to purchase ten-kuai bathing caps that were absolutely ridiculous, but nonetheless worn by all swimmers there.

We entered what appeared to be a changing room leading to the pool, but was instead of maze full of twisting corners and unnecessary crowds of people. We got sidetracked by far too many naked women, toilets, showers, and eventually a small body of water we were forced to wade through before actually reaching the pool. We had barely stepped into the pool area when a woman literally leapt out of the water and hurried towards us. Two other women followed her, one of them grasping -- what else? -- a digital camera. Apparently they take them to the pool when they exercise, too. We were forced to pose for at least five pictures with varying amounts of gestures and smiles and hand holding. Yes, I was wearing my swim cap at this moment -- I'm glad that that look of mine has been immortalized. One women insisted on a picture alone with my roommate, Beth, and proceeded to PAT HER BELLY. Zhen piaoliang! she cried to all of us. So pretty, she claims, simply because of our blinding pastiness widely displayed by our swimsuits.

Following this, we proceeded to spend forty minutes doing various quasi-laps ("quasi" because it was impossible to swim for long without running into people -- we usually managed half a lap. Why is this country so crowded? And why do all of its citizens like to swim at the university swimming pool?) and exercises. We were being watched by just about everyone there, but only one woman actually had a conversation with us -- she has three daughters in the U.S., and wants to come visit, but for the visa and airplane costs -- while the rest generally gave us a wide berth. The lifeguard spent most of his time frowning sullenly at us -- though that may be his natural expression -- and I certainly am glad no one was in distress, for he seemed to not care much about guarding life.

"But what is Harbin like?" you ask. "Outside of overly chlorinated swimming pools, that is. I hear there are many Russians."

Indeed, I reply, Harbin merits a small description before I can further relay any mishaps to you all. Truthfully, however, my days are so busy that I rarely leave campus -- and when I do, it is usually to the street behind my dormitory for 5-kuai noodles at a Xinjiang restaurant. My weekends are also jammed pack, as exhibited by an exhausting and ultimately useless trip to Jingpo Lake this past weekend, while this upcoming one involves some independent Mongolian prefecture. However, one day I spent wandering a pedestrian area of downtown, and Harbin has an architecture quite unlike other Chinese cities, of a distinct Russian influence. And yet, limited as I have been in my explorations, this is the only instance of the so-called strong Russian influence. Everywhere else is distinctly Chinese -- in that ugly, cinder-stone building kind of way.

And yes, it seems like every foreigner is Russian -- or Korean. Outside of the Americans in my program, of course. When I was buying water at the gym the other day, the man at the counter stared at me and asked, "Eluosi? (Russia?)" "Meiguo," I replied. America. This is the one city on Earth where I have been happy to insist on being American -- Russians are, in general, not popular with the Chinese here. And everyone first assumes I am Russian. Yet in general the people of Harbin seem a friendly bunch, though they will drink you under the table with all of their beer and constant Chinese toasting mastery and repeated cries of "Gan bei!"

As for my surroundings, Heilongjiang University (or Heida, as the students call it) is a fair distance away from the center of the city. And on certain days, the wind patterns allow the wonderful aromas of the nearby medicine factory's fumes to permeate the city. And if you, like me, find this slightly bothering -- don't worry. I've been told by at least two people now that the fumes aren't toxic...

Internet at last.

Hello friends, I just wanted to inform all of you who were worrying (or to remind you that you should have been worrying) that I have safely arrived to my destination in the Northeast of China: Harbin. I spent a thoroughly exhausting and socially crippling week touring Shanghai and Beijing, but -- except for a few extra flowers, a few more policemen, and new subway lines and cars in anticipation of some event they're holding later this summer (it seems important) -- I have nothing much to say about my time there to add to the last time I wrote you about it.

Currently I am busy with classes. All you currently need know is that the refrigerator in my room insists on one temperature (very cold), and thus I am not able to eat yoghurt for breakfast as it is frozen solid. This needs to be remedied.

EDIT: Refrigerator fixed. There is this magic thing called a 'knob'. It has instructions in English that go like this : MAX ---- MIN.

Pura vida, continued at last

Since Shelly has neglected numerous times now to complete the annals of our voyage to Costa Rica, I have thus commandeered the task, being slightly more amenable to procrastinating during finals than she is, apparently. However, to make this easier for me, I have simply decided to copy from our "travel log" (this term should be used loosely) written throughout our trip. I shall indicate the writer in brackets, [thusly], though all was written under the all-seeing eye of Ms. Shelly, who was after all the one behind its dutiful recording for posterity. I am well aware that these notes most likely make no sense, but I think their ambiguity -- like Confucius' philosophy -- is what makes it beautiful.

And so, I shall start on the day after we had reached Montezuma:

[Shelly] Slept. S itchy, woke up to spray self w/ bug spray outside. Ran into German boy. J woke up @ 6 to eat almonds. People talked outside door.

Thursday. Accidentally called Jenn.
-woke up 9:30ish. S took pix of A. A looked like mermaid. A ate almonds. S ate almonds. S took picture of J. J kicked up mattress.
-dog [illegible] in front of bathroom door. All 3 had difficulty passing.
-restaurant: hippie/banana. S reminded of Jack Johnson banana pancakes (song). A got veggie burger. S buddha burrito w/ ranchero sauce [Alison] not enlightened. [Shelly] J mahi mahi sandwich.
-walk to waterfall. S umbrella. [Alison] Started along stream -- quickly realized flip flops not ideal shoes for this trip. Journeyed for [illegible] w/ 3 Canadians w/ a baby -- S & A feared for child's life.
-1st waterfall no jumping; swimming pool too crowded. Continued along "well marked" trail (according to Lonely Plts) which was NOT. v. steep. Scary. Black tube marked trail. Continued for a bit. After steep descent/slide (blue rope) arrived at top of 2nd wfall. Watched ppl jump off. J jumped. All swam in pool. Tried rop-thingy tied to tree: J couldn't get rope to S; A "shelly-flopped". A jumped off cliff. Water rushed up butt. Watched crazy guy dive in head first. S jumped, spread-eagled. V. painful. Swam more. Watched crazy guy climb rope and sit in tree. S tried to reenact Herbal Essences commercial/Monkey King w/ small waterfall. Water v. hot. J jumped again. All pruny. Cute dog. Man in underwear (S didn't believe A at first). J disappeared -- went further up mtn for bathroom break. [Shelly] Asked J to take pictures and J went all the way across to get camera.
-[Alison] Somehow made it down the mtn. A's flipflop broke; repaired.
-Walked along beach, feet dirty. Went to use internet, made floor filthy. S couldn't find symbols for her password -- went to Wikipedia to copy & paste. Looked up constellations for star-gazing. J & A went to supermarket for drinks, chips & oreos. S bought cheese. Gross.
-Went to horse place. A successfully booked tour in Spanish.
-Went to beach again. Ate more. J swam; S & A watched. All swam ([Shelly] A peer pressured) [Alison] S almost drowned by waves -- washed up on beach like dead whale. ([Shelly] untrue) [Alison] Moved further down to avoid rocks.
-Started building sand castle. Architectural triumph. Didn't finish before sundown, took forever. Exquisite detail. Code orange/red/blue. (First attempt flooded, moved back 5ft.)
-returned to hotel, showered. ([Shelly] Yay. Read an outdated Elle, looked @ pictures. Dog still sleeping) [Alison] Dinner @ La Naranja. J: 2 banana/mango milkshakes & casada w/ beef. A: passion fruit con leche, cansada w/ chicken. S: coke in a glass bottle, some pasta thing. ([Shelly] chicken + mushroom). [Alison] No coffee :(
-[Shelly] Chicos bar. A: cosmo. S: Long Island iced tea. J: coke + whiskey.
-tried to look @ stars but no towel.
-back to room (on the way back argued about beds), slept.

Friday
-woke up, went to supermarket. All got buns + water.
-horse place. Stood around. Got on horses. A: Chancho. S: Dominga. J: Polleito. + 2 other women.
-started on trail. J's horse started running. S's horse followed. [Jim writes something illegible in margin]. Scary for S, scratched arm, ripped shirt.
-trails/along beach. Very pretty (waves, rocks, sun).
-reached waterfall. Climbed on rocks. Went thru waterfall like Monkey King. S umbrella but didn't really help. Rested & looked @ crabs. Roasted under sun.
-back. Slightly different trail. Horses slightly faster. Canadian woman screamed a lot, "despatchio"
-[Alison] on way back A held extended convo w/ Oscár, the tour guide, in broken Spanish. Topics covered: whether A has ridden a horse before, where we were from, wheter A was single or had a husband, A's age, Oscár's brother in Houston, the details of our length of time in Costa Rica/Montezuma, the shade, if A likes the playa or not (sí, me gusta), the fact that it's good to learn Spanish & English, the names of the horses, A's brothers, and an entire conversation topic that A didn't understand but kept responding "Uh... sí" to
also: A's horse really liked S's
-ate lunch @ Organico (pure food w/ love). A: veggie burger. S: hummus/avocado sandwich. J: organic burrito thing. Talked a lot about Doug
-[Shelly] Jim fell asleep while S & A read US Weekly, then said "I'm going to take a nap.
-s & A read outside room, S feel asleep. Guy locked loudly on door. A studied Chinese & watched white-faced monkeys. A made friends w/ Chris (Québécois film).
-all went for walk. A & S got coffee. J bought water & chips.
-walked on beach, collected shells, saw lots of small crabs. Sandcastle not there.
-Walked around town, then went to Montezuma restaurant. Sat upstairs, got bad fruit milk drinks. A couldn't get sandwich. S got fish filet. J got chicken catalan. Orange soda & mojito. Listended to reggae covers of Pink Floyd.
-walked back, played Monopoly. J was bank. A had own construction company. S went broke, mortgaged all homes. All were in jail together at some point. J awkwardly paid German guy. Dog went to sleep. freaked out at raccoon (they were eating dog's food.)

Saturday
-Woke up 7ish (A & J). S a bit later.
-bus stop. Saw Caroline (headed to San José).
-S read/slept. A & J looked at trees.
-another bus.
-ferry. Everyone rushed to buy tickets. Two ppl cut in front of A.
-all got (nasty) pizza. Bar guy laughed @ A & S b/c we were counting change (v. poor).
-Gtown kid (Sam) talked to J. They were group of 4 and live in LXR
-all read except A (studied Chinese). Arrived
-took cab to bus stop. A asked bus driver and he said [Alison] dose vente (12:20), A (confusing French & Spanish per usual) heard dos et vente (2:20), so missed 1st bus while sitting in café drinking cokes [Shelly] (and orange soda). Played cards in café. Guy not amused by us not being able to figure out money.
-sat at bus terminal.
S & J went to ATM. S got colones. J did not get money.
-S & A went to look for food. Bought hats (2 for $9). Walked entire boardwalk. Bought coconut cookies (100 colones). Went to market next to bus terminal (bought water + chips).
-V. windy/dusty. S's hat blew into a fence.
J talked to American girl w/ nose ring who lives in San José. Awkward but not as awkward as Gtown convo.
-ate cookies/chips.

And the rest is history, my friends. We made it back to Liberia, wandered aimlessly through the town before heading to bed. We then woke up on Sunday for our flight to Newark -- at the airport we stood in line for the length of time for a Chinese dynasty to arise and fall, and were smacked with a $70-plus airport tax. Our flight from Newark to DC was unpleasantly delayed, making us arrive finally back at campus after 1:00 that morning. Then I went to classes the next morning, thought wistfully of waterfalls and beaches and volcanoes, and bemoaned my existence.

Much like I am doing now, in the middle of finals.