Outsiders Inside

Shanghai - 2/6/2008

2008-02-12T11:13:00.000-08:00

I want to tell you about my job a bit. During our training in Shanghai, we were unequivocally (with threat of dismissal) instructed to never discuss the three T's with our students; namely, tai-to-the-wan, titibebet, and tian'banananmen square. I have recently found some websites that allow you to circumvent the restricted access that many places on the internet here have (bbc, wikipedia, blogspots, etc...), but even with these my internet often gets abruptly and conveniently disconnected, depending on what I do on the computer [hence the funky spelling of the T's]. As I've learned thus far, for the most part, foreigners in china limit themselves to discussing these matters with each other.

After heeding the initial warnings, and becoming ever more intrigued by the lack of available info, I finally put it to the test and asked my girlfriend about T-Sq (not risking it on my students quite yet). She did in fact acknowledge that terrible things had happened there, so, hungry for more, I quickly asked her to elaborate: the protesters were all very painfully 'hosed down' by the police. Enough said. I didn't have the heart to fuck with her ideologies, so she'll simply have to wait until the Great Firewall of China (according to the Feb. 4 NYT article) is eventually cracked by rebel hackers.

This brings me to Chinese traditional medicine. they have heaps of herbs (one of the other foreign teachers at our school studied in England and he pronounces that with the 'h' like it's short for his friend Herbert. anyway, his name is 'Corny', which is not exactly helping my cause to setting an example for students like Fast Race Car and Brad Pitt), which have countless uses. Some genuinely help (like the chrysanthemum tea i drank that did wonders for my sore throat and I know religiously carry to all my open classes). Most others, though, must rely entirely on a person's susceptibility to the placebo effect. At least i think so, because the '8 Treasures Tea' didn't do shit for my stomach after eating those 'Thousand-Year Eggs' which had been previously buried for about 100 days in a dry place after being soaked in a very dark tea with other things that will attack your stomach for 100 hours and what was I thinking helping myself to seconds.

moreover, some have odd side effects, like crazy dreams (ranging from defending my home from guerrilla fighters to--most recently--I gave birth to a baby WTF...a beautiful babyboy, definitively the oddest dream I've ever had)... or, also related: the eucalyptus-flavored toothpaste I just got surrounds me with old fat sweaty men in a sauna because that’s what I feel like every time I brush my teeth. Speaking of finding yourself in unexpected scenes, about a month ago one of my students invited me to come and sing 'hey Jude' with her at a small and informal end-of-the-year presentation she was having in her university. I’ve never sung in front of more than a couple of people, and limit my loud singing to the Colombian anthem before a football match.

...but it's an easy song, and after traveling enough, you eventually learn to say 'yes' to everything and then bitch about what you've done on your next email. so everything was fine, and I was even excited when they introduced me as 'the American' and I walked on-stage to face about a thousand Chinese people all cheering as hell because they must have thought I was some sort of small time celebrity. It was the archetypal bad dream you can't wake up from. As such, I forgot the words to a song I’ve sang (quietly in the bathroom) for about a decade now. The girl (by the way) had an amazing voice, and I’m sure she expected to win first place with me as her wild card... but, hey, we got a solid 3rd place (they must have felt bad for me), and will probably be in the next batch of soon-to-be archived annals of the Chinese University of Mining for years to come, as Zhang Yun and 'the American'.

Anyway, I wish you all a very dear Happy Chinese New Year (Xin Nian Hao!), and hope this email finds you in the best of health.

Saudades demais,

Santiago

Santi - 12/19/2007 - Suzhou

2007-12-19T13:41:00.000-08:00

My emotional state (previously expressed through the beats of DJ Shadow) is currently best embodied by the song posted below(it might or might not have been otherwise a little harder to find, depending on who has influenced your music collection).

If you are as mesmerized as I am by the funkalicious beat of this song, and the merry children singing in the background, fail not to discern the subtle undertones of what I can only describe as an old school two-handled tree saw being bouncily bent in and out... Yes? Maybe? Delightfully twangy is what I want to say. Anyway, I understand that I am in China, and that this song would be most appropriate were I writing from Mali, where Issa Bagayogo is actually from. But Africa is the next step I think, or should be at some point for all of us, no? -- S.A. 2010 world cup, what? --so it's a pleasant thought to keep recurring to.

About a month ago I was riding down the wrong side of the street (not a problem in XZ) negotiating oncoming traffic while trying to get to the other side. A middle-aged woman with a child in her arms was in a similar situation, on foot and with her mother. A truck going maybe 75-80km/hr zoomed by her less than a meter away. The fantastic thing about this blink of an eye was how the grandmother was struggling to protect the child--not from what would've been an instant death, mind you, but from the treacherous sun! She was frantically waving a newspaper over her head, because... as it turns out, whereas golden crispy might mean to us that someone's been on a vacation, our Chinese counterparts relate the sun to farming, and therefore strive to be as pasty as ever!

Weather - It is cold, very cold, and dry. The worst thing is I was very happy about the solar panels above our apt. buildings, because Chinese pollution is serious, but now there is no sun and it turns out the only appliance connected to the thing is my shower, and it's amazing to hear the things that come out of your mouth when you have to take ice cold showers, running from one side to the other I sang the Macarena the other day and I don’t know if I should be proud of that or not proud. But as they say every cloud has a silver shining, and I can finally enjoy the cultural 'Chinese drink warm beer' thing because room temperature has now turned cold as fuck.

So yeah, on the road it is perfectly normal to go on the wrong side, red really means green and green really means get the fuck out of the way because the bus has a red light and he ain't stopping so get your sun umbrella out. I must be on my 6th and a half life by now. I say 'and a half' because once when it was dark and raining I hit a guy on my bike and broke his umbrella handle, so there is a little victory in that, I think. The other day I was given my 3rd counterfeited RMB bill so far. you have to use your fingernail to scratch chairman Mao's hair (his beautiful face is on every bill), and if its real you’ll feel small grooves, but that’s ok because I can give it to the barman at the Soho club on a busy night for a cheap screwdriver which may or may not be made from delicious moonshine.

The train ride to Suzhou (I originally thought this was the city I was getting shipped to a couple of months ago... "up in heaven there's a paradise, down on earth there're Suzhou and Hangzhou"... the Venice of the east so to speak, but no, I got sent to industrial Xuzhou instead, population stinky tofu and heavy machinery) I took a couple of days ago was great because I have always thought there is something romantic about human traffic and 6 bunk beds in a small compartment where the Chinese serenade you with a 3 to 6 hour snoring orchestra before you safely arrive at Suzhou at 6am with bags the size of potatoes under your eyes and you realize that maybe 'romantic' is not the right word.

The trip was great, though, I’ve put some pictures up on f.book, but as I was perusing a map of the place the night before the trip, it was delightful to know that, at least this time, I didn’t have to book a 'bed' on my usual backpacker hostels where they change the sheets every 3 guests. I have a job now and can book a whole 'room'! Ah, salaries, what will they think of next?

Con Amor,

Santi (stay warm in holidays, and enjoy the company of your families! Feliz Navidad y Feliz Anho Nuevo!)

Dounia - 11/26/2007 - Lake Como

2007-11-26T16:57:00.001-08:00

At 40 minutes by train from Milan, one can see one of the most beautiful lakes in the world : the famous Lake Como. It is very common for Milan inhabitants to go to Lake Como during the weekends in order to find a peaceful and quiet environment, which clearly contrasts with the noise and the permanent activity in Milan. Sitting in a nice café in Bellagio, your sun glasses on, and enjoying a good pasta dish is such a relaxing moment!

Becoming more and more Italian myself – or should I say Milanese – I decided to go to Lake Como some days ago during the week end. Though I was already expecting something really impressive, I must say that I was amazed by the lake’s beauty.

Indeed, the lake is Y-shaped, and all around the “Y-shape”, one can find a whole bunch of small cities and villages, with a traditional architecture, old streets, impressive Cathedrals (called “Duomo”), old piazze (main villages’ or cities’ squares), …

Therefore, once you get to Como (by train from Milan), you can either take the ferry or the bus to go from a city to another one. I would definitely advise you to take the ferry (though more expensive than the bus) because it is the best way to enjoy the amazing views on the lake. Once you are on the ferry, you end up being in the middle of the lake, with all around you those nice cities and, above all, the mountains (you can even see the snow on the top of the mountains). Though it can sound cliché, this is definitely THE romantic spot you want to be in!

The good thing about the lake is also that you can visit the beautiful gardens of some of the famous houses that are spread around it. Be careful, most of the houses are open only from mid-March to end-October. The houses that you should definitely visit are:
- Villa Carlotta, in the city of Tremezzo
- Villa del Balbianello, in the city of Lenno. This is the house where the last James Bond, “Casino Royale” has been shot. You can totally recognise the place once you are there! It is so exciting to think that Daniel Craig was there few months ago!
- Villa Melzi, in the city of Bellagio. Bellagio is probably the most beautiful and famous city of the Lake. It became even more famous after Georges Clooney bought a house there. Too bad Georges wasn’t around when I went to visit! Bellagio has also been made famous by the well-known “Bellagio” Hotel in Vegas!

Therefore, if you have only one day to spend in Lake Como (which should be more than enough), I would advise you to go to Como, have a walk around the city (a pretty small city, so an hour should be enough!), take the ferry heading to Bellagio, then go to Tremezzo (by ferry too) and end up taking the ferry to Lenno! Be careful to check well the ferry hours. I actually got wrong while reading them, so I missed the last ferry that was going from Lenno to Como and almost got stuck in Lenno!! Hopefully, some people in Lenno told me about the bus that was going to Como and that’s how I managed to get back home. That’s one of the good things about Italy: people are very friendly and they will always try to help you when they can.

Carlos - The China Town bus - 11/16/2007

2007-11-16T17:18:00.000-08:00

There are a few ways of getting to and from the metropolises of the Northeastern United States. My commutes typically come in the form of New York - Philadelphia. For such a short trip the best alternatives, for a car-less traveler such as myself, are train or bus. The rail system, as usually happens, is monopolized. Furthermore, it seems that the monopoly, Amtrak in this case, prefers to charge higher prices and quite a few empty seats than lower prices but a full train.

For thrifty passengers – I again include myself here – the better option is the bus. While the train will get you to your destination in an hour and a half, the bus typically will take just a little over two hours, for less than a quarter of the price. There are two main bus options, Greyhound and what are known as the Chinatown buses. The former is the state regulated intercity bus company, the later is quite different.

The Chinatown buses have gained substantial prominence in the last few years. The thriving microeconomic engine that they have created was recently analyzed in the Economist magazine. They are, by far, the best option if you care about five dollars. For ten dollars, they will take you from one urban sprawl to the next. Chances are, however, that the ride will not be the most comfortable.

While I have had some “good” rides, you should never be surprised of the following:

- Very rude oriental hosts
- Lots of yelling by the ticket salespeople-- “Firaderfia, Firaderfia, New Yor…”
- A clogged restroom which, it would seem, has been forgotten by the janitor or maintenance crew
- Fumes from said clogged restroom. These are particularly bad in the back seats. Avoid the back seats at all cost! I once sat on the back seat; the fumes were so bad, they stuck to my clothes with such potent strength that my girlfriend would not touch me when I met up with her.
- Bus floor wet with who-knows-what
- Seafood being hauled in the bus’ luggage compartments from one Chinatown to the next
- Other merchandize, food or otherwise, being transported
- Police preventing the buses from leaving given the fact that the bus company has not yet paid something-or-another. I have often thought that they do not actually have a bus company permit
- Some smelly, rude, or otherwise disagreeable fellow travelers (no all)

My recommendations if you are planning on taking these buses
- Hope you get a “good ride”
- Pack light and carry everything with you on your lap
- Get there early and sit up front
- Be ready to fight, tooth and nail, to get onboard the bus (listen to some Korn if need be)

Dounia – 11/07/2007 – Milan Fashion Fever

2007-11-13T06:16:00.000-08:00

The other main feature of Italy is « Fashion ». Milan is a city that definitely makes one realize how much fashion matters in Italy. Indeed, with Paris, New York and London, Milan is one of the four fashion capitals. However, having lived in Paris and having been in London and New York, I really feel that there is something special about it in Milan that one can’t find in those three other cities.

In Milan, one can find all kind of nice shops all around the city. However, the place to be for famous brands’ shopping is the “quadrilatero d’oro”, four streets that display only famous designers shops (Armani, D&G, Gucci, Dior,…), the most famous one being “Via Montenapoleone”. This street is the equivalent of “l’Avenue Montaigne” in Paris or “Rodeo Drive” in L.A.!

I had the chance to be in Milan in September during the well-known “Fashion Week”. This week is very important for the city as many designers, models, and famous people gather in Milan to attend the various catwalks held there. Attending catwalks is a “VIP” privilege. However, as I leave in the Navigli, a lovely neighbourhood that has a nice “channel” (the Naviglio Grande) and nice old houses (all yellow, green and red paintings just as in the old times), I had the chance to see fashion shootings: models dressed in nice outfits, with perfect hairdressing and make up, making picture along the channel, which is indeed a nice setting for a picture!

I also had the chance to attend a shop opening. “Scappino” is a formal menswear shop, located in Via Montenapoleone! It was created by an Italian guy from Torino in the 20’s. In the 30’s, this guy decided to take the brand to Mexico, where he moved with his family. I met his grandson, also an exchange student here in Milan, during an Italian class we took together, we become very good friends, and that’s how I actually made it to this opening event. I went there with a bunch of friends from the Italian class. We were all dressed up, all being so excited about the event! The opening was held outdoors in a nice restaurant located a block from the store. There were a lot of people from the fashion industry, people from some famous magazines, people even from the “upper” Milanese and Mexican society. It was really nice to be surrounded by all those nice people. Even a former “Miss Mexico” was there! A nice Italian buffet was set up (food is, as I mentioned before, really important for Italian people!), and catwalks were held on a impressing red carpet! It was definitely an exciting night!

After that opening party, we went with a couple of friends to the “Armani Nobu” bar, 5 minutes far from there, to get a drink. Indeed, the funny thing about Milan is that there is a whole set of restaurants, bars and clubs that belong to famous Italian designers. For instance, there is the Armani Café, the Armani Nobu (restaurant), the Armani Privé (night club), the D&G (bar and restaurant), the Just Cavalli Café (bar and restaurant), etc. This gives you an idea on how important fashion is in this city!!

Talking about designers, last week I was wondering around Duomo (the main Cathedral in Milan, this is THE sightseeing most important spot if you happen to come to Milan!) when I went by the “Rinascente”, which is a big mall in Milan, the equivalent of “Printemps” in Paris. There, I saw that Tom Ford was going to do some promotion for his new fragrance at the end of the afternoon. Of course, this event got my attention! Being in the neighbourhood, I therefore turned out to see Tom Ford, the former model that became the designer who gave a new life to the “Gucci” brand!

Therefore, I feel surrounded by fashion here in Milan (something I won’t complain about!). The funny thing is that even people in the street and even more at Bocconi (the university I attend here) happen to live on this fashion planet and dress for classes / work as though they were going to a catwalk!

Dounia - 10/31/2007 - Milan Fare

2007-11-01T06:42:00.000-07:00

When one thinks about Italy, the first ideas that come up to his/her mind is “Food”, “Fashion”, and “Friendliness of people”. I would call it the Italian “FFF”. I must say that after spending two months in Milan, this biased opinion turned out to be completely true.

For now, let’s start with “Food”. This will probably sound cliché but Italian people do eat a lot of pizza and pasta, do have ice creams as desert and do drink coffee all day long!

When I first got here, I was surprised to see how often people would eat pizza and pasta. In France, people enjoy eating various dishes during the week, from meat to vegetables, without the usual salad. So, the first days here in Italy, I would just go for a salad and everyone would look at me as though I was a weirdo coming from the strangest planet! The more I spent time here, the more I got used to the Italian diet and I eventually turned out to be one of the many Italian “pastaholics” and “pizzaholics”. I actually tried to figure out why people were so much into those dishes and, after some on-the-spot research, I reached the following conclusion: those dishes are GOOD! Indeed, the products used to make them are fresh and taste really really good. Therefore, not only are they delicious but they are also pretty healthy! When one first gets to Italy, if he/she is not fluent in Italian and especially in Italian cuisine vocabulary, going to a restaurant can be a funny experience. Indeed, there are so many kinds of pasta and pizza that one can get completely lost. First time I went to a restaurant here, I just didn’t know what to pick up, there were penne, spaghetti, tagliatelle, ravioli, gnocchi, etc. and then they were prepared all kind of sauce preparations: alla Bolognese, alla Genovese, al pesto, all’arrabiata, alla napolitana, etc. The same goes for pizzas with the Margherita, the Napolitana, the Quattro Stagione, the Regina… I did get confused, so I ended up simply taking the Margherita pizza. That way I was sure that I would get something I already knew! One of the things that I am really proud of now that I have spent two months here is that, when I bring a friend to a restaurant now, I can show off, unveiling my skills to understand everything (or almost everything…) that is written on the menu!

After a pizza or a pasta, what would an Italian person go for? An ice cream of course! Ice creams are definitely a religion in Italy. It is crazy to see how many “gelaterie” (Ice cream shops) there are in Italy. As one walks in Milan, he/she can find a gelateria every five minutes or so! I must say that Milan ice cream shops have impressed me. Here, I have had the best ice creams ever! First, all ice creams are hand-made ice creams so it has absolutely nothing to do with those “industrial” ice creams, the ones you can find in the supermarkets! Then, the shops are really nice: it is funny how each flavour is presented in its own box and on top of it, they usually put the original product that it is made of (real slices of bananas, strawberries, lemon, …). How can you resist such a nice presentation??!! Maybe that’s why Italian people are so much into ice creams… After trying many ice creams shops, I must give you a tip: my favourite gelateria! You can find the best ice creams at Riva Reno (Via Col di Lana, 8). The flavours are amazing: Bacio (this is the typical Italian ice cream flavour made of an Italian chocolate called “Bacio”, which means “Kiss” and which people offer as a gift, meaning they offer you kisses), Alice (with Mascarpone), San Luca (with white chocolate), Nocciola (with hazelnut)… again, be careful, you can get pretty quickly addicted to those ice creams!!

Last main feature of the Italian diet: the coffee!! It’s funny how much Italian like coffee. They can have it at breakfast, during the morning break, after lunch, in the afternoon and even for dinner (even though they are planning to sleep right afterwards!). They are so much used to it that it is as though coffee has no more effect on their body, which is probably why they can afford to have so many coffees during the day and still manage to get to sleep! Coffee in Italy is way different than Starbucks’ American coffees. It is the original and pure “espresso”, “macchiato” or, last but not least, “cappuccino”. That’s probably why Starbucks has no store in Italy! People seem to stick to their original coffee and don’t want to have any Starbucks around! However, rumour has it that Starbucks might open a store soon in Milan. Will it end up in a “coffee war” or will people be open-minded and tolerate a new-of-a-kind coffee??

Carlos - 10/22/2007 - State Fairs in the United States

2007-10-22T16:45:00.000-07:00

Last weekend my family and I were in North Carolina scoping tentative outing options. One such option was the North Carolina State fair.

By no means am I a fair connoisseur; I typically do not enjoy fairs. Up until last weekend I had never been to a fair in the United States. As it were, I was not about to interrupt my streak by going to a weeny fair. Only a fair of the utmost importance and disproportionate scale would do. The North Carolina State fair fit the glove.

Quite a staggering number of smiling locals handing out pamphlets directed us to an underground parking garage of a small office complex in the middle of nowhere. It was not a far walk to the fair grounds, maybe four minutes by foot.

I don’t know what it was, but from the moment I saw the gigantic sprawl that was the fair, I felt troubled; “this is probably NOT my crowd,” I was sure of it.

The entire ordeal was an experience, but the first few steps into the grounds were really a shock. It was like walking into a pop-surrealism piece – everything screamed.

It seemed that the main attractions, if you can call them that, were, in no-particular order, the colossal, gyrating, and vomit-inducing death machines, the sugar coated lard, and the brain-rattling noise levels. Like a hammer to the temple.

Your traditional Ferris wheel was there, as were your “hit-the-dolly-and-get-a-prize” games, but it seems fair machines have evolved significantly from these classics. There was simply no way I would have gotten onto the newer stuff. Those metallic dinosaurs could have very well been leased (or stolen) from a nearby Six Flags and reassembled on the fly by the local electrician – Paco, formerly the Mexican Luncheonette owner.

Nowhere else in this world will you find people holding several hot-dogs (or hamburgers), a bucket sized soda drink, and cotton candy, who are also in line for some other fried choke hazard. The sheer body mass of some of these people was evidence that this diet was anything but unusual. Some were so large that they actually transported themselves on those old-people carts. Unsurprisingly, those things are meant for old, typically small, people, and as such are very (very) slow to carry the weight of typical fair-attending patron. Of coarse, I have lived in the States a few years now and such sizes are nothing new, just always sad.

Watching those never ending appetites is like watching a scary movie. It’s hypnotic. You know you don’t like it, that you won’t be able to sleep, and surely it will ruin you’re appetite, yet it’s near impossible to look away. You certainly cannot smell away.

My father said something that really speaks true: “it’s the first time in the history of the world that a species has too much food.”

What was most unique to this fair, most popular and, in my opinion, least enjoyable, were the trucks. At the center of the fair were some stands alongside a short racing track. The name of the game was: pushing (or pulling) heavy things with a tractor. Coming from the city, I cannot describe how unusual this appeared. Part of the allure, it seemed, was revving the tractor up as much as possible before actually driving. The crowds loved this noise. I never got a chance to ask why. I wonder what the prizes were?

My last shock was revealed to me halfway through my 45 minute experience (that’s all we could muster). I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but it seemed that a lot of people, somehow, were not quite alright. Aside from the superior fattyness levels, that is. I’m not sure what triggered it, but all at once I realized the proportion of healthy to mutant was significantly higher than average. Perhaps 2% of the crowd was, in one way or another, slightly deformed, or retarded looking. Then again, maybe it was just the fat.

A few days ago I told a friend about the fair, he quoted back a saying: “If you ever want to feel good about yourself, go to a state fair.” I didn’t exactly walk out feeling good about myself, but I did walk out content. Sometimes you forget why you dislike things and a good refresher is all you need.

Alf - 10/21/2007 - Mexico City taxi cabs

2007-10-22T06:16:00.000-07:00

Mexico City taxi cabs... Oh boy. Well, for starters there's many different kinds of taxis. There are those of the pimp my ride quality which are easily recognized by the bright psychedelic lights emanating from the interior, the driver's massive 6G harness strapping him down to the seat, the 8 speaker stereo system with the low rider bass in the trunk that can be heard within 4 city blocks, and the feeling of "man this guy must be very late for something which means I will very soon die splattered against the median".

On the other side of the spectrum one can board the old-school green VW Beetle cabs, although not as fast, they too provide their own exciting sense of danger. For starters these come equipped, or shall I say unequipped, with a large vacuum that once contained a passenger-side front seat. This makes boarding the tiny vessel a cinch, except when your party consists of more than 1 person who is not a midget. Once seated one can also see that there are small appendages in the back-seat that once must have been the docking ports for seat belts. Upon inquiring why these were modified in such a manner the kindly driver will reply that due to popular demand and for the passenger's comfort all signs of seat-belts were removed. One can only picture a front side collision resulting in the passenger flying through the vacuum of the front-seat and careening through the windshield, although fortunately his bottom is nice and comfortable. After arriving at one's destination and paying the man for his services he will lift the front passenger-side mat and look for change, and once having exited the cab, the driver will pull the door shut with a little rope that he keeps tied next to his stick-shift. There are also the termed "illegal" cabs, which consists of the two previous kinds of cabs but these poor guys do not have the proper permit. How to identify them, well, it seems their tag numbers are different although this is unrecognizable to anyone not working at the motor registration authority and also, sometimes their paint job is a little rundown even though all taxis here have bad paint jobs! But, of course, every single taxi cab driver will comment to you, the gullible newcomer to the city, to be wary of those illegal cabs, they are all over the place and those rat bastards are not safe.

Moving on, we have the "executive" taxi services. These usually come at double the fare and therefore cater exclusively to citizens of high standing. How does one become an "executive" taxi driver? Well, one simply purchases a 2 to 3 year old mid-size car and then one drives around and offers people a lift. According to my paranoid relatives these guys are by far safer to ride in than the run of the mill taxi cabs... hmm, dubious.

Despite the limitations in the variety of taxis in Mexico City one will always learn something new when braving this transportation service. It seems that the taxi driver guild, "chafirete" in Mexican Spanish, consists entirely of incredibly wise and noble men who have PhD's in everything and will never doubt in giving their opinion on whatever the small chit chat entertained and forced by them will stumble upon. Thus, one will always hear about how dangerous things are in Mexico City, how the government is ruining everything, how the youth of today is not what it used to be, and how crappy the weather has been lately.

Despite all this, or perhaps due to it, I really enjoy taking cabs everywhere. They are extremely cheap, ubiquitous, and their lack of uniformity always makes it an adventure.

Santi - 10/17/2007 - Life in Xuzhou, China

2007-10-19T07:11:00.000-07:00

CLOTHING - Heaps of people wear face masks all the time in Xuzhou, apparently because the city is extremely polluted, which is great news because I thought I would die the day one of the non-maskers coughed in front of me and I thought I was the only nincompoop NOT protecting himself against Sars and/or the bird flue. The children here don't wear diapers. In their stead they wear pants that are not really pants, more like things that cover everything EXCEPT their Shilaylays. it never gets old watching parents hold their kids over trashcans so they can pee in front of the world, or crouch em down because Xuzhou is their toilet. I wish I could send you a picture but my camera broke which is probably better because such pictures might be borderline pedophile and that's a line i hadn't planned to cross for another five to six years WHAT?

THE FOOD - As I said earlier, everything's to be found on sticks... a brief recollection: dog, lamb, cow, stinky tofu, chicken, duck, the little pigeon-like birds with little eggs that are very delicious, turtle, cow placenta (very healthy), e-to-the-tc. but the worst of all (unbeknownst to me at the time) were cow eyes which were almost as delicious as the time when my friend Fernando called me very excited after he finished his first successful castration and served me a bulls' testicles' cocktail which wasn't half bad. All in all not bad. They use cumin and cilantro galore, which is bomb, but they don't know what avocado is and words simply can't describe how sad that is.

THE DRINKS - I have been feeling extremely healthy lately, mostly due to the lack of pot, cigarettes and/or other drugs I may or may not have done in my distant past, and I was actually not drinking very much in Xuzhou until the day I woke up on my vomitful bed and looked at my floor which I peed on not before I was unable to fully take off my pants off the night before and peed on them as well. But that's not the problem. The problem is they called me from work because I was 45 minutes late for a 1-hr class so I had to get my ass on a cab and couldn't pick up my dinner and drinks from the night before until AFTER work. This line I definitely crossed before (shhh!), but didn't plan on doing so again! I guess I got carried away because people in Xuzhou can't drink very much and they get red and I’m an idiot. Maybe more the former.

MY JOB - I do have one as it turns out. The students are great and all they ask is that i be a native English speaker, which I learned the minute after I told my first batch about my proud Colombian heritage and Guatevity. Mgmt immediately told me I was from Philadelphia and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Because this is China and I don't know what I’m doing here, I let my facial hair grow the longest it's been which isn't much but still makes me the spitting image of don Quixote and his silly moustache and goatee, and one student called me out on it saying 'you know, you don't look very American (the neck on the back of my hair stands up), and when i come to think of it, I can't understand you as well as James (my black DC counterpart).

So I shave now, and don't let LEMON talk in class. Which brings me to my STUDENTS. They are great, and all have English names they get to choose in school and stick to like glue. here's a brief list of some of the names: SUNNY, APPLE, JOHNSON, WILLING, RUNNING, CHERRY - I guess this one's pretty normal, but my all-time favorites thus far are LOOKING (he wears glasses) and FAST RACE CAR.

EPOILOGUE - people told me to come to China and look at the bad English on public places, and I see many funny examples that I forget to tell you about, but one I see one all the time says "For Civilization, Please Ose Poilet" above the urinal.

All my love,

Santi

Santi - 8/27/2007 - First week in Shanghai, China

2007-10-19T06:58:00.000-07:00

If you got the shadow, play this song as you read this, it's been on my mind as I've planned out this email [DJ Shadow - You Can't Go Home Again]

I am walking home at around 13:30 from the first night of revelry. The subway is simple enough but its 4 Kuai a pop and I've got 1.50 to my name (story of my life). It's good to leave the heavy tourist roads and away from people’s square where old men ask you to be their friends and take them out for drinks. I assume shanghai is manageable and that my map is accurate but actually there are about 13 roads between each avenue not marked on it. It begins. As the tourist fade the translated street signs do as well, and I slowly but surely come to the realization that I am fucked, north is south and I am running on one bottle of water, the only thing I could afford at the time. Fuck it, the best way to get to know a city is by getting lost, n'est pas? So I take it through the dodgy ass (and ergo most intriguing) alleyways until I can find the larger arteries that might hopefully be on my counterfeit map.

If you ever got a headache from the black exhaust fumes and filth in Guatemala then get ready for migraine capital because the city smells of cholera, Greek for diarrhea? Latin maybe? But worse than feces on the ground is the rancid ass fried tofu, a whiff of which is pure hell. They appropriately call it stinky tofu and apparently when it is stinky enough it’s quite nice. I marvel at the sites and suddenly find myself walking into a Latin-American forest, gorgeous bonsai trees engulfed by very lush plants, all towering above me. This is the kind of alley I like, but what’s crazy is I am also enveloped by the nocturnal orchestra of myriad crickets, except it’s not night, and it’s not the rainforest under the full moon at the end of haphazard torrential rains. This urban jungle reveals to me instead a very dodgy animal market, with everything from octopus to gargantuan scorpions, and the cutest parrots and puppies... on second thought; it might have been a deli because I’ve definitely seen all of the above on a stick. Wonderful. But let’s take it back a notch.

I have a haiku, but I am not sure if the appropriate structure is 5-7-5 or 7-5-7. For the sake of my creative genius, we'll make this one a 5-7-7.

Haiku to my crocs

long-walks-you're-cum-fy
but-then-poo-wa-ter-gets-in
so-now-i-stopped-wea-ring-them

So I meet a south African the previous day [so everything is 'brilliant' and 'quite nice'] and we agree to meet up at captain's hostel for drinks and a bomb view of the city (Fuzhou Rd - a bit pricy), we run into a couple of Utahns who agree to follow up with some grub. A girl tags along in the elevator and we are off to becoming surgeons. Clear gloves, out comes a plate of maybe 25 or 30 baby lobsters or crayfish maybe to dissect and put in our mouths, the poor Utahns are vegans (although not Mormon, so I guess God does only punish once)... it turns out the girl that came along is from Guate and was at all the sport tournaments I was at until '03. The world is too small. Cheap food and then the boardwalk, fantastic place to drink cheap and, well it’s a boardwalk but Chinese, until the skyline turns off at 11pm to save light. Then all is dark, and my mistake not to check the subway lines, so everyone leaves and thank God the South African is quite nice and lets me crash on his hostel roof, which he found a ladder to. I wake up circa noon and I have no idea where I am and its hot... very hot, and humid, hangover hot and humid, and where THE FUCK AM I.

So finally after many conversations that went like:

Me: wo mey loo la.
Arbitrary chinese woman: lao wai!
Me: lao wai?
A.C.W: hihihi laowai.
Me: wo mey loo la!
A.C.W: wo mee loo le?

etcetera etcetera I ask a question and they answer in Chinese, which makes it hell’uv hard to understand because I don’t speak Chinese but what are they gonna do, and the sky is hot and I drank like 8 or nine last night which does not equivalate to 1 bottle of now lukewarm water like the croc water.

Finally! I start to see more and more barbershops which abound in my neighborhood, the only problem is a lot of them don’t have any scissors or chairs, or people who cut hair, but they do have many Chinese woman sitting on couches waiting to prostitute themselves. Definitely not hairdressers some. At last I made it home after 2 and half hours on the streets. alone, locked up in my hotel room with the ac blasting and the fantastic beat of the aforementioned song that id had in my head all day.... I deprived myself of shanghai for some 16 hours, and as such thoroughly experienced china.

Warmth,

Santi