Excursion day

This is a really long one, but I’m not going to apologise because if it gets boring you can stop reading it, and I can’t tell, so I won’t be offended.

Wednesday morning started at 7, in order to catch the bus to the Oriental Pearl TV tower. The bus ride wasn’t so bad, despite it being so early- Jessie and Hair Elise played snap while me and Bookworm Bethany looked out at the ‘real Shanghai’. To get to the tower we had to drive through a much shabbier area, with shanties and street stalls, as well as grubby naked children running through dirty puddles- very National Geographic.

The tower is huge (obviously) and in a large, majestic square surrounded by multicouloured flags. Although the Subway (the sandwich place, not underground train system) ruined the effect somewhat, it was still very impressive. To get in we had to go past the police at the gate, and then again when we were inside. Our bags had to go through x-ray and we even had to throw out our water bottles. Jessie said the harsh security was because somebody once threw a panda off the top floor, but I’m pretty sure she was lying.

At first, we went to the very top (it was actually only about the 93^rd floor, but when you’re as terrified of heights as I am, does it really matter?) where all the viewing platforms are. The Lonely Planet says you can see all of Shanghai from the platform, but when we stepped out of the lift we saw… nothing. For a second I thought that there weren’t any windows, but then I realised that the outward wall WAS a window, and that the fog and pollution was so bad you couldn’t see anything. At all. After about half an hour, you could see indistinct buildings if you went right up to the window and looked down, so this is when our group decided to go out onto the glass platform. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. I stayed as close to the inner wall as possible, because I’m one of those weird people who like to have more than 10 inches of glass separating myself from death. Crazy, I know.

We were then directed back onto the lift by some employees of the tower, but when the doors opened, we were a little confused.

   “Women quchu, dui bu dui? (We go out, right?)” Someone asked.

   “Dui (Right)” nodded the woman, and so we stepped out of the lift into what was clearly a games arcade. I am not kidding- it had Tekken and everything. Our teachers where nowhere to be seen, so I suppose we did what any uni students would do in our situation. We played arcade games. All except for Old Tony, who shook his head and said, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t travel halfway around the world to play Time Crisis.”

   “Time Crisis? What’s that?” I asked, “My knowledge of arcade games doesn’t really extend beyond Pacman.”

   “I have a 20-year-old son” He nodded sagely.

Then the teachers showed up anf took us to the museum (by the way, we still hadn’t left the building. Not only that , but on the way from the arcade to the museum we passed a rollercoaster. INSIDE the building. Seriously, this place was enormous). The museum was in both Chinese and English, which was useful, and contained the best collection of wax models I’ve ever seen. Not that I’m an authority on wax models or anything, but still it was creepy how very human they seemed. They covered Ancient China, to the forming of Shanghai, to the French Concession, stopping right before the Boxer Rebellion. Neither Confucious or communism were mentioned.

Walking through the museum with us were a mixture of schoolchildren and tourists. Half of the schoolchildren were Caucasian, and they all spoke English, which was evidenced when Hair Elise said “They’re so cute! Look at the ginger one!” A little too loudly, and he turned around to frown at us. They were all fluent in Chinese as well however, and one of them, a little blonde girl of about 10, helped me out when I was having difficulty understanding one of the tourists. He was gesturing wildly back and forth between myself and his camera, speaking to quickly for me to understand.

   “Ni xiang wo pai yi zhang zhaopian, xiang ni he nide qizi? (You want me to take a picture of you and your wife?)” I asked, but he shook his head and wifey said “No no no!”

   “Duibuqi, tingbudong (Sorry, I don’t understand)” I sighed, and the little girl came up and explained in her strange half-British accent that he wanted to take a picture of me.

   “Oh dear.” I said, blushing.

   “It’s okay.” She said, posing in the picture with me. When photo guy and Mrs phoo guy walked off satisfied, Blondie turned to me and sighed in a very world-weary way for a 10-year-old. “I get that all the time,” she shrugged.

   She told me she attended the nearby international school, which explained the accent, and that even though she was born here people still call her waiguoren.

   “It’s the hair, probably” I added, and she nodded.

   “I want hair like a boy, but my mum likes to play with it- she won’t let me cut it.” And indeed, the complex braids and sparkly hairclips would seem to suggest outside influence.

   “Well, see ya!” She chirped, and bounced off to natter away in Chinese with her classmates.

   “SO cute,” sighed Hair Elise.

When we got back to the uni it was still only 11.30, so we all piled into the lecture hall for a lecture on Confucianism by one of the resident professors. Here, for your education, is an extract of my notes on one of the most boring and most interesting lectures in my life. First, the boring bit (feel free to skip over).

“-Confucianism aims for the successful cultivation of self.

 -Confucius born in East China to a lowly noble family in the decline of the Zhou dynasty (16^th Century)

 -The Analects- compilation of Confucius ideas

            -practicalities of interpersonal relationships

            -personal cultivational in that context

            -governance policies

-some sexist crap

-Li are the rites pertaing to propriety and sacrifices, Li must be maintained for successful life

-more sexist crap

-Do unto others, etc.

-even more sexist crap

-Mencius- All for wisdom and compassion, yet tried to justify regicide and anarchy

-yet even more sexist crap.”

I couldn’t believe what was coming out of this man’s mouth. Yr 12 history made out Confucius as an alright guy, but some of the stuff the lecturer was explaining was awful- all about the patriarchy using “necessary moral force” to maintain the “heirarchy of the family” and “retain kingship”. I looked around the room to see if anyone else was sitting open-mouthed with horror, but realised with a start that more than half of the lecture hall had fallen asleep. Even Spider Robert was playing on his phone, and Old Tony was sorting through character cards. Geeky Albert’s glasses had fallen into his lap and he hadn’t noticed. At some point the lecturer must have noticed this, because he called a 10 minute break, which allowed nearly everyone to leave and not return. When we resumed only about 20 of us remained,  and unfortunately for those who left, this was when things got really interesting.

  He started talking about the resurfacing popularity of Confucianism, which the communist party was trying very hard to quash. But then he started talking about Mao.

   “You know the history of Mao Zedong, yes? He was our leader, you could compare him to your Hitler and Stalin.”

  At this, murmurs whipped through the crowd. Surely he hasn’t allowed to talk like this? What happened to the Chinese cultural amnesia? After all, Mao’s statue still has pride of place where the Bund meets Nanjing Road, his face is still on the bank notes.

   “Mao fronted the communist party, telling people to get rid of Confucianism, get rid of the emperor, yet he himself wanted to be emperor… very paradoxical. Oh yes,” he said, when he took the mutters of disbelief to be mutters of dissent, “yes, Mao wanted to be emperor. He writes so himself. The government is more free now, the release documents not seen before. How do you say? Declassified. Yes, declassified.”

  After that little bombshell he compared neo-Confucianism to neo-conservatism, and that was that.

Dazed and a little worried for the lecturers health, Me and Jessie joined Hair Elise, Bookworm Bethany, Blond Robert and a guy I recognised from lectures, whom I shall call Crazy Leon (‘Crazy” because he looks a lot like a less-hairy Rasputin, only now after talking with him I realise how very accurate this title is). We stopped at a street stall to get these crepe-like things with egg and chives, as well as this dark sauce I sincerely hoped wasn’t duck’s blood. We got some fruit from a stall further up- red lychees and this huge citrus fruit the colour of grapefruit but with a coconut-like shell. On the way we stopped at this wheelbarrow selling heaps of books, manned by a girl who didn’t look a day over seven. Blond Robert asked her how old she was, using the quantifier for numbers under 10.

   “Shisan sui (Thirteen)” she said, looking pissed.

  I perused the collection and was excited to see the Harry Potter books in Chinese. I got the first one for 3 yuan, however Bookworm Bethany was paying more attention.

   “Hang on, there are more than 7 here,” she said, and I picked up two that I didn’t recognise, “Harry Potter and the City of Dream” and “Harry Potter and the Spun Sugar”.

After that we wnt our separate ways to study, before meeting up in a diner ( I say diner instead of restaurant because restaraunts I would classify as having more than 3 walls). Already there was a guy I had seen around who was studying Chinese 1. Needless to say, he was having a bit of difficulty ordering off a menu with no pictures. He introduced himself as Sean, but I will call him Navy Sean, since that is his occupation. Two of Blond Robert’s friends joined us well. They were from Japan, and one, Kosuke, spoke very good English and the other didn’t speak at all. The food was excellent, some kind of beef, rice and egg dish covered in soy sauce and all kinds of dumplings. The patrons were very excited to serve us, probably because with all of us there their establishment was completely full.

That’s all for today >phew<. Well, I have to go study for a test. Zaijian! Ellen.

Second day of class

Today started with geeky Albert and one of my classmates who liked my Firefly pencil case, whom I shall call Firefly Joseph. They both spoke Cantonese, and they were trying to explain to me how this does not give them an advantage. I am still not convinced, since Cantonese and Mandarin have the same writing system, which means they also have the same grammar.

 

Class had a different teacher today, Ma Laoshi, who wasn't quite as good. She spoke nearly entirely in Chinese, and it was a lot harder to keep my mind for wandering for the whole 5 hours.

 

When it came time for our tutors, I walked over to mine and she shook her head.

  "Meiyou, Ni zhuan gen biede tongxue. Xuexi gen biede laoshi (No, you transfer with other classmate, study with other teacher)," She said sadly, "She is more at your level. It had been nice to meet you."

 

  We shook hands, and I was shepherded into the adjacent room by an older teacher with amazingly bad teeth. I tried not to stare as she introduced me to my new partner, Smiley John, and then we were off. This was much harder. Like ridiculously hard. I knew I would have to study like a freak to keep up, but I felt a little better when Smiley John explained after class that his dad was Chinese, and he was taking the program to learn how to write better.

  "You are very good!" He said, smiling. He was just being nice, but it was good to hear nonetheless.

 

I met up with mod Sarah and her Korean room-mate- Melissa, I think. Just as I was thinking about how none of my new friends had introduced themselves with their Asian names, The food arrived. It was sweet and sour pork with kimchi and rice this time, and it was the first meal I had that was just kind of ok. We got talking about music, so I asked Mod Sarah what kind of music she liked, and I nearly fell off my chair when she replied, "Oh, you know. Metallica." Melissa liked Korean pop, which I had heard before because it is hilarious, and we all liked the Beatles.

 

After that I went home and studied for a bit, then wrote this. But it is bedtime now, so I will write tomorrow about the excursion we're having to the Oriental TV tower.

Sooo sleepy

Sooo sleepy, but I should write this now anyway because my day was packed and I don’t want to forget anything.

I got up at 8.30 in the morning for a 9.30 start. First up was a tour of the campus by an English-language student, who divided us up into groups of 50 (with great difficulty). There were more waiguoren here, which makes sense, and she showed us the front gate, where the canteen and the book shop was, and where our classes would be. After this we- all 200 of us- had to gather for a group photo on some tiered steps, while the photographer tried to arrange it so everybody’s face was clear. While he was doing this (“You! Handsome man! Swap with pretty lady.”), I stood next to Blond Robert, who I had met before in Chinese speaking class, and two girls I had met at an information session, Bookworm Bethany and Mod Sarah. The photo was taken, and we filed into a lecture hall for the “opening ceremony”.

As we walked, I noticed the guy next to me’s t-shirt had a picture of the experiment where all these spiders were put on drugs and they took pictures of the webs they made, which had been published in the New Scientist. I blurted out, “Ohmygod I love your shirt”, and we got talking about the New Scientist and interesting facts about spiders (like the oil produced by human skin can make spiders go bald).

The Ceremony was pretty boring, with no flashing lights or acrobatics as the title suggests, but with a speech by the Dean, the Deputy, and by some teachers. One of the Shanghai teachers got up and told us about how great the program was, how it was the biggest in the world, and how Monash is awesome, which was frankly a little redundant.

  “Chinese is so important to study, even when you live in Melbourne. You speak it to your friends, your family, your teacher, the people who work in 7-11.”

Our teacher from Monash got up, and received the biggest applause. She warned us to stay safe, to study hard and not drink too much, which was obviously met with boos. We were told to never be late for class, or else, and we broke for lunch.

Me and the guy I was talking to (also called Robert, but I shall call him Spider Robert to be clear) decided to check out the campus canteen. We had to stand in line and buy meal tickets before lining up again to choose what we wanted- I got rice, chicken and veggies all for about 5 yuan, which is ridiculously cheap. Spider Robert, who is vegetarian, lamented that the tofu in his noodle soup was actually chicken, but apart from that it was perfect.

Our level is divided into two classes, and I was pleased to find out that Jessie, Hair Elise, Bookworm Bethany, Mod Sarah and Blond Robert as well as Old Tony (who really isn’t that old, only 50-something, but compared to the rest of us he sticks out. I mean, he fully has a beard) were all in my class. Our teacher turned out to be an adorable 22-year-old with excellent dress sense. She also turned out to be a really good teacher, despite having some difficulty with pronunciation.

   “When you say something nice, I am saying, “nali, nali” and being modest. This is the way of the Chinese, but I am flattened.”

What was really useful, however, was her habit of using cultural references to explain complex grammatical points.

   “When some other bad boys want to beat up Forrest Gump and Kate say, “gankuai pao!”- That is the usage.”

At 5 we got sorted into groups of two to meet our tutors. Mine was a very tall, toothy girl not much older than me, who introduced herself y writing her name in characters on the board. The other student was a shy Korean girl whose name I did not catch, who had done the first two levels of this program last year, and had not studied Chinese since then. This was not very good for her, though she made me look quite good. I hope she won’t end up resenting this. The tutor did not have much English, but we did ok trying to make ourselves understood.

Class finally finished at 6, and we were all starving. Bookworm Bethany, Mod Sarah and I set off in search of dinner, and ended up settling on a place called “The Canteen” in English, which you can tell the owners had thought would have slightly fancier connotations, if the swish interior was any indication. Nonetheless, it was cheap, and we ordered pork noodle soup, yangzhou friend rice and these chicken buns that wew friend on the bottom the sesame seeds which you dipped in vinegar. It was all so good I started to feel that this travel blog was would be slowly evolving into a Chinese Eat Pray Love.

When I got back to the hotel I jumped on the internet and was ecstatic to see all the comments. If you want me to reply though, email me at ehmcc1@student.monash.edu.au – I’d love to actually converse with everyone, I miss you all heaps. Or better still, get Skype so I can hear your voices! Ok. I’m going to sleep before I collapse. Goodnight! Ellen xox

A day with Achi

The next day was a bit of a non-event. Me and the roommate, Achi, decided to go to the nearby supermarket in search of towels and water and breakfast. We only got as far as the lobby however, when we realised that the hotel had its own general store hidden in the back, as well as a salon and a gym. We got everything we needed, as well as somethings we didn't (did you know they have oreos here? And Paddlepops? Weird). I was complaing about the breakfast choices- dumplings or saladas- when Achi showed me this breakfast cereal she brought from Indonesia that comes in a sachet, like a cup-a-soup. It was, surprisingly, really yummy, and reminded me of the powdered milk Granny used to make when I was small. Achi and I chatted over our cups, about why we chose Chinese and the CIP program (Me: I wanted to study something different, Her: she needed an extra subject to finish her business degree, and this was easier than doing a whole year of one subject). She told me of her boyfriend of five years who her parents were pressuring her to marry, and of language in Indonesia (apparently for common phrases they just use English all the time, like "thankyou" and "sorry").

 

After a bit I wandered down to Luxun Park, where I got a pork bun and read under a tree. Not thrilling stuff, but comforting. When I came back I talked to Tim, Mum and Tom on Skype, which was fun, and we sorted out the system- I would write the blog and send it to Tim, who would email me back the comments. Mum promised to log into my facebook and tell everyone to email me and read the blog (thanks you guys!). I wrote an email to dad assuring him of my continued existence and had an early night.

 

All in all, just a normal day, which is probably a good idea considering tomorrow is the day I start class and the craziness begins..

First proper day in China

I woke up when my roommate came in- a very friendly Indonesian girl with fabulous hair and a name I couldn't pronounce, who told me to call her Achi. I got up and realised with a shock it was 11 o'clock Shanghai time (about 2 in the afternoon at home), so I wrote yesterday's blog and went downstairs. In the lift with me were two older-looking caucasian girls, so I asked them where I could find food. They were looking for food also, so they invited me along. The blonde one, Brooke, had been to Shanghai before, so she took us to where there were vendors selling street food. I had no idea what to ask for, so I got the same as the brunette, Sophie- something like long sushi with pork crackling in the middle. It was delicious.

When we got back the desks had been set up for registration, so I went upstairs to get my passport. I may have read for a weeney bit. Like a couple of hours, until I heard a knock on the door. When I opened it, there was a Chinese guy about my age in a suit, who began speaking Shanghainese, none of which I understood.
"Ni hui shuo Yingyu (Can you speak English)?" I asked.
"Bu shi (No, followed by unintelligable Chinese)."
He walked into the room, taking stuff and putting it into a bag- the tea, the little fake rose on the desk, the towels.
"Wei shenme (Why)?! I cried.
Getting frustrated at trying to explain he walked over to the phone and called the front desk.
"He is taking the things," said the phone.
"Yes, I was wondering about that-"
"-He take the things, ok?"
"Ok. Do I get the towels back?"
"You buy own towel. Thankyou, goodbye."
He hung up, and I walked over to the boy, who was looking at me expectantly.
"I take the things?" He asked.
"Yeah. You take the things." I sighed.

At this point I grabbed my passport and went to register. I waited in line behind a girl I had always wanted to talk to, who had been in my tutorials. She smiled, I smiled, she held out her hand and said, "I'm Jessie."

I registered, got my student ID, and she explained how she had just arrived from Guangzhou where her family lived, and she had no idea what to do. I suggested we go for a wander, so we went up to my room where I got my bag before going up another floor to her room, which was HUGE. We ended up just staying there for ages, eating pizza shapes and watching Chinese TV, which is hilarious in the same way Japanese TV is hilarious- lots of flashing lights and excitable voices and the occasional picture of a leek.

After a time we met up with her friend Elise who I remembered as being lovely but really not very good at Chinese. She has this amazing, waist length, strawberry blonde curly hair, and she was complaining about the attention she was getting as we walked down the street, looking for somewhere to have dinner.
"I got some guy come up to me, hold my hand and try to walk down the street with me. Seriously. I had to yell at him until he went away."
This sounds a bit much but even as I was thinking this people were stopping in the street to look at her, and a pedestrian had to swerve to avoid a cyclist who was looking at her over his shoulder. "Waiguoren (Foreigners)" I heard a kid mutter.

We chose a place that looked like it would have pictures on its menus. We ordered two noodle dishes and Shanghai dumplings, and then Jessie ordered this amazing dessert her cousins introduced her to in Guangzhou. Tiny tiny buns (made out of the same stuff that's in pork buns), some normal, some fried, which you dip into condensed milk. Oh, my god. I do not understand how the Chinese are so thin.

We decided to meet up with Sophie and Brooke, the girls I had met that morning, to go clubbing. Heaps of people came along, including male-model-attractive Joe and geeky Albert (which I suppose is inevitable with a name like Albert). The club was called Park 57, presumably because you had to walk through this park to get there, and was clearly made for Waiguoren. Everybody spoke spoke English and about 40% of the people were caucasian. We went up to the bar and shouted to the bartender what we wanted. The others got shots, but when I shouted "coke?" he replied,
"35 yuan"
"Are you kidding?" I yelled.
"Deal with it" He shrugged. Since this was more than dinner and the taxi ride combined, I went thirsty.

We ended up on the dance floor, dancing to exactly the same music that we would be dancing to in Australia, which was irritating. I can't even escape Lady Gaga and Katy Perry by fleeing the continent, damn globalisation. That "f**k you" song came on and I got a flash of homesickness, remembering singing along to the same song in Josh's car. Every now and then the dance floor would be cleared for these dancers in tiny outfits to do a routine, which was cool. Around the dance floor were these tiny tables where people played some complicated drinking game with dice in a cup, while tiny sharks swum by in the fish tanks that were the club's walls.

We left when the guys around us became too touchy-feely, and got back to the hotel at about 1-ish. Now it's the morning, and I'm about to go in search of more towels. Wish me luck.

Zaijian! Ellen

Day 1

I've written in almost every detail of my days so it might not be that thrilling a read, but I know mum will want to know all about it, so here goes. You already know the first bit, because you were there, but my friends will want to know how the flight went, so I left it all in.

 We left mum's house really early in the morning, carrying the suitcase I've probably overpacked. I'd been really stressed out trying to organise it all and I hadn't really been sleeping, so I wasn't feeling so crash hot, but that was okay, because I was really excited. We met up with dad at the airport and mum and I voted (I didn't vote below the line this time, it's only the state election and anyway I had slightly more important things on my mind). We passed a krispy kreme and we decided to get some which is relevant because as we were waiting I I looked over dad's shoulder and the comedian Tom Gleeson was standing there, which made me feel better because stand-up comedian= good omen, but I didn't say anything, because geez can't a guy get a donut?  

  So we went back to Tim who was minding the huge suitcase for me (thankyou, Tim), and I said goodbye to the 'rents, trying to convince mum I'd be ok because I was on a quest for the master sword and sometimes bad things happen on quests but it's alright because I'm stout of heart and it always works out for the hero in the end, at which point she told me to shut up, and that she's never heard a woman refer to themselves as stout of anything. I promised dad I wouldn't go to any protests or do anything that would get me shot by angry communists, and I was off.

  I got a window seat on the plane, which I thought was awesome until I had to get up every 10 minutes to throw up. The girl beside me was not happy.

  The moment I stepped off the plane there was a military presence. No kidding. they had guns and helmets and everything. What was also slightly irritating was that the people who were shouting instructions all switched to English when they saw me, even though I was the only foreigner except for this greek woman who didn't understand any English anyway.

  When I got out of the airport I found a taxi, driven by a woman, which was reassuring. What was less reassuring is the fact that they drive like crazy people here. Maybe not Vietnam crazy, but sufficiently crazy enough to make me close my eyes. In the hour it took to get to the hotel I saw 4 instances of indicating, and everybody was swerving all over the place. I comforted myself by looking at a box that was n the back seat, that had a picture of a bear on it and the words,

       "everying do become great happiness"

Excellent. 

  I asked if she spoke English and she didn't (which was ok because I knew enough Chinese to tell her where I needed to go and that I needed a receipt), which turned out to be not entirely true as she displayed great proficiency at English swear words.

  "Shit!" She'd cry, "mother-ass-fucker!" as we swerved someone who just cut in front of us, no warning at all.

  "Ni zhu zai Shanghai (Do you live in Shanghai)?" I asked.

  "Shide. Shanghai hen da, bu hen anjing. Mei guanxi, wo xihuan. Ni xihuan Shanghai. (yes. Shanghai is very big, not very quiet. But its ok, I like it. You like Shanghai)" She assured me, and then, as we did a U-turn into oncoming traffic, "cocksucker... cocksucker."

  
I got to the hotel fine, but had a problem when I realised my phone's battery had died and that it had the pin number for my card in it. I had to rush out of the hotel in search of a phone card, until I found a man selling them from his bicycle. He, like the taxi driver, didn't speak any English, and I had a harder time trying to ask for what I needed.

  'Wo xiang da dianhua Meierben (I want to call Melbourne)"

  "Wo bu zhidao ( I don't know, followed by rapid chinese I didn't follow, but took to mean, "Hurry up and tell me want you want lady, or leave me alone so I can continue my disreputable-looking bicycle phone-card service in peace")"

   "Aodaliya (Australia)" I clarified.

  He rummaged in his bag for the right one and showed my a calculator with how much, and I was able to call my parents and explain that, yes, I was a dickhead and that I would talk to them again soon.

  So I lugged my thoroughly overpacked bag up to level 16, where I collapsed into bed and fell asleep fully dressed.

  And now it is breakfast time, and will have to venture out of my hotel room at some point, so goodbye everyone, and I'll write again tomorrow.

Love, Ellen

P.S. Helen and Natassja, I totally passed a starbucks on the taxi ride. Just thought you should know.