Have a nice life.

This week marked the beginning of exams, and also my last interactions with several students. Most of them are completely unaware we're not returning for another year here, and simply say, "Have a nice summer break!" Those who realize otherwise wish me a bright future by saying, "I hope you have a nice life", which makes me guffaw slightly before I explain that it might not be best to use that as a parting phrase.

I've attempted to make my exams cheat-proof this semester, since at least half of my students are cheating little cheaters -- and I have a myriad of examples I could give to support this claim. Take, for instance, the most recent occasion on my first day of exams, where a student walked in and said:

Student: I'm student number 12, my name is Sunshine! Hi.
Me: ... wait, are you in my class?
Student: Yes, I'm number 12.
Me: No really, I've never seen you before.
Student: Ha ha, well, I've eaten a lot and am fat now, so...
Me: Do you have i.d.?
Student: Um, yes, but at dormitory.
Me: That's fine, I'll wait. Thank you.
Student: My hair is also different! So maybe you don't--
Me: Go get your i.d., please.

She never returned, confirming my suspicion that -- YES, THAT'S RIGHT -- my student had sent another girl to take her exam. It happened to a few other foreign teachers last semester, as well. Crafty monsters.

Wellllll, today was the end of a seven-day workweek if you can't tell from my slightly off-kilter ramblings, because according to our University, we have a three-day holiday for Dragonboat Festival (Monday - Wednesday), but only if we make up Monday and Tuesday classes the week before. Right... uh, thanks? Clearly they were sniffing baijiu when they made this decision.

Regardless, I'll spend my days off trying my best to find a dragonboat race I can participate in as I did two years ago in Harbin. Wish me luck.

A little something to brighten your day.

Two photos of some Chinese hairstyles that grace this fine town (and really, these aren't the most outlandish) --

This Marge Simpson hair style is quite popular among older women.

And among younger women, a weird two-layer cut with a bowl-shaped shorter level and a weird, stringy longer level. Yup, lookin' good.

A list.

Things That Are Growing Mold in my Apartment Despite Noble and Strenuous Efforts to the Contrary:

1. The walls.
2. My clothes.
3. My underwear.
4. My boots.
5. My pumps.
6. My flats.
7. My hiking boots.
8. My "mattress" (i.e., the blankets I layer under my bedsheets so as to provide padding for my wooden bed).
9. My mah jong set.
10. My bag of rice.
11. My bag of noodles.
12. My jar of peanut butter.
13. My wooden carvings from Lijiang.
14. My luggage.
15. My backpack.
16. My passport.

Off the walking trail, because there isn't one.

To celebrate International Labor Day, I went off for a couple of days into the unknown with a few other teachers. After some thorough research (read: one webpage) we took a bus to Jiangjin, a city to the south of Chongqing's center, and from there to Zhongshan Ancient Town via a rickety minibus that kept stopping for more passengers along the road until it was bursting at the seams for all of its 56km drive.

Zhongshan is a well-known Chinese tourist destination for Chongqing residents, but little known to foreigners -- it is home to Anhui-style buildings making up the ancient town alongside the Flying Dragon River, where current residents slice eels in front of you and feed you all kinds of fish. We stayed at a random house that rents out a few beds above the restaurant, and whose entrance room is plastered full of old, faded Mao propaganda posters and faint Party slogans stenciled onto the wall, as well as numerous signs cautioning against smoking in bed, given that one misplaced cigarette would light up the whole town.


View from our room.

Zhongshan from across the river.

There are walking trails leading out to an extensive area of hiking, allowing you to see cascades, rock carvings and the Stairway to Heaven -- 6,000 steps carved into the side of the mountain by a man to show his love for his wife. The unfortunate thing is that due to our inability to read completely inaccurate Chinese maps (they have led me astray many a time before), and coupled with extensive construction on a new hospital right in the middle of what should have been a walking path, we didn't actually see any of it. We did however see a lot of Chinese countryside, as beautiful as it gets in Chongqing with blue skies and an intense sun (rare in and of itself) and sprawling mountains covered in fields of cabbage and rice. That's at least something, right?

Some nice Party propaganda for you all.

Rustic mountains and an actual clear blue sky. Plus temperatures in the high swelterings.

"Boys are terrible animals."

Today was debate week with my freshmen classes. Among the topics was: The school dormitories should be co-ed. Rarely have a gotten such impassioned responses mercilessly vilifying the few boys in each class, so enjoy --


Disagree
Boys are terrible animals, may do crazy things
Boys will see girls in states of undress
Bad for boys and girls in a relationship
Boys are dirty, have bad habits (drink, talk loudly, catcalling)
Play jokes on girls
Parents will disapprove

Livin' the 没有 life.

However little Chinese a foreigner in China knows, there is a dreaded expression that said foreigner quickly learns out here in Chongqing: 没有 (mei you).

This expression is used principally by servers who seem to always run out of whatever commodity you desire, hence the mei you ("don't have"). Those chicken wings you wanted? Mei you. That tasty-looking picture of pasta on the menu? Mei you (the pictures are just for show, and are never actually dishes at the restaurant). The jar of olives at Carrefour? Well, the bar scan had a wrinkle in it so the cashier couldn't ring it up on the computer for you. Mei you.

This mei you touches all aspects of life, and it's anyone's guess what the next mei you will be. Besides clothing and shoe sizes adequate enough for Westerners being mei you, items ordered before will also suddenly disappear. One can order a rather terrible scotch soda at the Golden Palm Restaurant, but when someone on the same night orders a scotch, it's mei you. Apparently all scotch sodas in Hechuan are pre-mixed? At the outside bar in Jiefangbei one Friday night, where they serve Carlsberg on draft, a waitress informed us they mei you enough glasses for the beer. They also mei youd our orders for fries and fried mushrooms.

I have developed a Pavlovian-like fear of servers approaching me without objects in their hands, dreading the next mei you I will receive. But I needn't ever worry about Chinese food like chicken feet or stinky tofu -- they will always have that in abundance for me.

From soccer fields to fishing villages.

Yesterday was the first day in nearly a week that was not full of drizzling, disgusting weather. Just in time, too, for our only Easter celebration consisted of a soccer match between the school's Soccer Society and a random assortment of foreigners and Chinese students coerced by Mat into joining the team.

Sitting on the sidelines before the game.

Our goalie, Bruce Lee.

Patty, a new Paise teacher for this semester.

We lost rather spectacularly, though we did celebrate like true Chongqing losers at hot pot later that night.

Today, in honor of Tomb Sweeping Day, there were no classes. To celebrate a holiday I actually have no clue about, a few other teachers and I took a bus to the Fishing Village, about 5km from the city. Although the name would leave one to believe it is a village somehow related to fishing, there is in fact neither a village nor a fish, but rather a park full of historic battlements and random carvings, all in rather poor condition with a 60 元 admission price.






Despite the haziness of the day, it was a rather charming area. And thanks to school sports day on Thursday and Friday this week, we only have to teach two days. Cheers!

Beware.

Beware the friends-making strategies of the Chinese -- notably, the common practice of taking someone out to dinner. Now, it's one thing should the person in question treating you to a meal actually be an acquaintance, for then you can enjoy the meal and happily return the favor at a later date.

It's another thing if it's a complete stranger who plops herself down at your table where you are dining with two other foreigners, insists on a five-minute photo shoot with you and her boyfriend, and then insists on paying for your rather expensive meal (salads and soups cost a pretty penny, don't forget) in order to be friends despite your vehement objection to the contrary and, later, despite your sneaky attempt to "go to the bathroom" but really secretly to pay the bill since they're sitting at the table next to you and monitoring your interactions with the waitstaff, only they beat you to it by calling the waitress over while you're still planning your escape route.

Because -- should you accept this meal (and really, what else can you do? they insist they aren't "bad people" and just want to make friends) -- they will proceed to call you twelve times in the period of four hours looking for you at Golden Horse Square on a Friday night and send you numerous text messages inviting you to a rural farm to experience Chinese farming culture and to admire peach blossoms. And eventually, you will be expected to attend some kind of karaoke booze fest with them and a bunch more of their friends, watching middle-aged Chinese men belt out 80s crooner tunes like divas, while they choose the only English song the computer has, "My Heart Will Go On", for you to sing for them.

So -- beware!

Some disruptions to routine life in Hechuan.

I made my way back to Hechuan on Friday, after a mad stampede at the bus station where I found myself packed like cattle and elbow-to-elbow with the last several hundred Chinese people finally going back home after Spring Festival. Also, some security lady tried to confiscate my oxygen tank, but I got really indignant and claimed I had health problems and needed it to breathe; just as I was about to start waxing on about the utter harm Chinese pollution is doing to my health, she simply laughed at me and told me to keep it.

Anyway, I made it back to Hechuan and was quite perturbed to find a number of changes in my absence --

1. The bus from Chongqing did not take me to Ta'ermen, as per usual, but instead to a shiny, brand new central bus station. And, near which a park is being built. A park! In Hechuan! (Part of the "Beautiful New Hechuan" campaign, according to signs). I only hope that it will be finished relatively soon, and won't charge admission like 99% of Chinese parks.

2. Carolina and I went to the gym on Saturday to renew our membership -- for those who do not know of my gym, Acceleration Fitness (加速度健身俱乐部), I had a certain affection for it, but it really was the crappiest gym to ever charge membership fees. For one, it was about the size of most grocery store's produce sections. Second, it only had a few treadmills, each of which was out of order on any given day, as well as one stationary bike, which was never working. Next, the windows were stuck open and unable to close, which meant that all winter the gym was freezing. Fourth, the dance classes were right next to all of the equipment, so obnoxious music would play very loudly at times, and for children's classes, children would be running around and hanging from bench presses and climbing over piles of weights.

Our surprise came when we walked up the three flights of stairs to find the gym completely demolished, and a sign indicating a brand new location and name -- Decom Fitness Club (德康健身俱乐部). This new gym is spectacular in comparison, though still rather small. There are now ellipticals, several bikes, more treadmills, newer weight machines that most likely will not give me tetanus, windows that open and shut, separate rooms for aerobics and yoga, a "relaxation" room with computers and internet, and a massage room. This may seem like the norm for most small, basic gyms, but for Hechuan it's truly spectacular. I am also now friends with the manager on QQ.

3. I hailed a taxi from the bus station, and a shiny new car stopped for me. These new taxis are slowly popping up, and don't rattle when the driver shifts gears. Classy.

4. In the center of Hechuan, there is a new pedestrian traffic light, and even though no one really obeys it, it's fun to pretend. There are also traffic cones separating the lanes in this area to try and keep cars on their respective sides of the road (doesn't really work for motorcycles, though).

And now I'm back to teaching; today is the first day of the new semester after the Lantern Festival yesterday officially ended Spring Festival. I'm trying to win the affection of my students by showing them a Jackie Chan movie instead of making them do listening exercises for the first class back. And I think of Yunnan's blue skies and fresh air as the summer heat and swarms of mosquitoes have already begun to roll inexorably back into Chongqing --

"Perfect metropolis".

Now in Chengdu yet again after a five days in Lijiang, in northwestern Yunnan. The Old City there is a World Heritage Site, and makes Dali look like Disneyworld's Epcot Center (not to disrespect anything Disney). Besides eating copious amounts of Naxi food, our activities included exploring the twisting winding alleys of the ancient city, biking to a Naxi village (Baisha) famous for its frescoes, and spending a day fighting Chinese tour groups at the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain where we had to buy tanks of oxygen to deal with the altitude.

We also celebrated Spring Festival there, where we welcomed the Year of the Tiger by making jiaozi with the people at our hostel. Chinese New Year is celebrated by everything closing down for days (except for places like Lijiang that thrive on tourism) and people setting off fireworks and firecrackers nonstop from dawn until midnight, usually just as you're walking past -- causing your ears to ring for minutes afterwards.

Lijiang was, compared with other Chinese cities, inordinately expensive, especially considering my need to buy bags of Yunnan coffee everywhere we went. The weather was just as lovely as the rest of Yunnan though, and made the return to the exhaust-fume-colored sky of Chengdu rather more shocking than it should have been.

Because of S's lost passport, we couldn't fly from Lijiang to Chengdu as we had wanted. Instead, we had to take a 22-hour sleeper bus; as a result, I'm not sure I'm entirely sane anymore. The beds were the width of a regular bus seat, and S and I were in the very back row of five beds, squished between strangers -- literally squished, for there were no dividers between the beds. I'm also fairly certain they never wash the sheets, so an immediate shower was in order this morning when we arrived at our hostel. The only good point was that we were no on the top level of the bus. It was definitely not worth the nearly 300 RMB we payed, if anyone was ever insane enough to think about getting on a Chinese bus for longer than 10 hours and trying to sleep while bouncing a foot off the "bed" every other minute.

Already went to the U.S. Consulate after an intense hazing (i.e., screening) process to replace S's passport and add visa pages to mine. Now vowing never to leave the bookstore I'm in until they throw me out. Then maybe I'll go see the pandas again.

春天来了

Currently traipsing about Yunnan province. S and I spent five days in Kunming -- the City of Eternal Spring -- where it was constantly sunny and warm and breezy, quite a change from the oppressive grey of Chongqing. The city was replete with greenery and flowers and food such as across-the-bridge noodles and random camel chuanr we found, and Yunnan coffee (no Starbucks in sight) and pu'er tea.

Yunnan's weather is especially wonderful after a few days in Beijing's freezing cold, which included yet more Peking roast duck dinners, Great Wall visits, and park promenading.

I also spent quite a lot of time getting acquainted with the Kunming police station, as S's wallet was pick-pocketed, which included her passport she had forgotten to take out. Our police officer was quite meticulous in typing up our report, and we spent an hour or so on Saturday night detailing the exact sequence of events, and then sitting around in a lobby while some guy handcuffed to a chair stared at me.

We arrived in Dali today via the Kunming-Dali Express bus after a harrowing survival of the mass of travelers at the bus station going home for the holiday; we spent the afternoon browsing stalls in the Old City and eating 生煎包 and 乳伞(a sweet fried cheese snack unique to Dali); tomorrow we plan to bike around Erhai Lake and visit the Three Pagodas and eat Tibetan or Bai food, and then on Saturday we will attempt to brave the general insanity of traveling on the eve of Spring Festival to catch a bus to Lijiang.

Random photo purge.

The food vendor street near campus, where I often grab baozi and jiaozi to-go.

This is how I blend in with the locals.

The cheering section of the student soccer tournament that the other foreign teachers played in last November. They came in third, but won the "Best Team" award. (Kathryn, Carolina & Lilly).

Chongqing streets. It's easy to see why its nickname is the Mountain City, 山城.

Part of Jiefangbei in Chongqing, where I spend most of my time on visits to the city.

We went to a soccer game last October in the city, and this man very enthusiastically led the crowd in cheers for the Chongqing Lifan team.

Lunch with town officials in Guxi last September.

A Guxi street.

So now it's vacation time until the next term begins in March! All my grades are entered and done with, and only a few students failed the listening exam -- I've been told repeatedly it's not my fault, but I still feel bad, even after giving a ridiculous curve.

The new decade: CQ style.

Last week we rang in the New Year with a trip to the city to spend quality time with each other and our millions of Chinese friends--


Jiefangbei was absurdly crowded (as is to be expected in China), and the amount of balloons released into the air at midnight (not in the least caused by Kathryn running around and taking them from everyone) was enough to kill hundreds of dolphins and turtles. Don't worry, we're not near an ocean...

Happy New Year, all!