yeah, ummm

Winslow and Brent point out that I made an error in believing that the gender gap was due to the families continuing to have children until they have a son. That still results in equal gender populations.... So yeah, Iltis would not be very proud, but since then I've actually bothered to work out the probabilistic likelihood of each in an exhaustive and theoretic way. I can send you the proof if you want ;). Funny thing is, I remember having the same reaction that that didn't explain it, but enough people reiterated it when I asked I stopped thinking and just started restating. But anyway, there's something much more sinister about the gender divide. Also a lesson that you can't believe everything that a Chinese citizen says about China, as I've noted on occasions when : people convinced me to go to Tiananmen Square on National Day (extreme crowds/could not move/etc), people told me I'd be able to upgrade to a bed on my train from Xi'an (yeah, no...), people told me the inhabitants of Xinjiang province (self-governing) could and have killed people in China and cannot be punished...

China and the gender divide

I found out a little while ago that the ratio of men to women in China as 120:100. Ouch. This happens because if a family has a son first, they stop having children, but if they have a daughter, they will keep having children (and pay for them, or sometimes there are legal exceptions where you can have more than one child if the first is a girl) until they have a son. The guy that sits next to me laughs and tells me how he has two older sisters, but, note, "no younger siblings..." I mentioned that I thought this would change soon, but the other interns disagreed with me, citing the infinite population of rural Chinese.

So anyway, in many ways this makes girls more precious. Or, at least, finding a girlfriend, downright impossible. This leads to situations like the following:
1. A LOT of prostitution. At least one prostitute, and I think several, work my hotel. She left cards under my door when I was in a single room. Now, she calls up, and usually hangs up the phone when a female voice answers. The other night though, she asked me if I wanted a "mah-sahhh-gee" - a meaningful and intentional mispronounciation of massage. Also, she will come knock lightly on the doors one by one late at night. Don't answer that late-night knock. Anyway, I've heard the theory that one of the reasons it is so big in an unexpected place like China is because it's in high demand for a society with so few women. Men just can't go around unsatisfied all the time. I'm not sure that can be totally accurate, but interesting nonetheless...
2. I heard last night about a woman who had planned her wedding and honeymoon, in their entirety, for next year. Doesn't have a boyfriend. She'll go find him now. I guess that she has some time since all of the wedding plans are straight. Compare this to the U.S., where a girl won't buy a dress for the prom before she has a date. Wow.

I think the women in China have a lot of implicit power in their relationships because of this. Much more needy, demanding, and princess-like. But that's only based on some anecdotal evidence...

Chinese Transportation Etiquette: 10 Commandments

1. Don't leave more than two inches of space between you and those immediately in front of you and behind you. Failure to obey this commandment results in immediate forfeiture of spot in line. (and if you're in a line at a grocery store, rather than getting train/etc tickets, you can slowly and passive aggressively push the cart of person in front you with your own cart as they take money out of their wallet and receive change to finish the transaction. if you time this right, your cart will be perfectly positioned and theirs totally out of the way just as they slip their change back into their wallet and the cashier turns back to ring up your own groceries, saving you 5 seconds.)
2. Don't allow people to exit a subway car or elevator before you attempt to board. Two streams of traffic going in opposite directions at a door is desirable, and slows everyone down.
3. Don't get off of a train or elevator, no matter how crowded, to create space for someone else attempting to de-board. Doing this gives the person getting off the liberty to shove and push everyone in their way as they see if they can get out before the doors close. Sometimes they don't get out in time, which is perfectly amusing, unless it's you.
4. Don't wait until your light turns green before crossing the street. This allows you to progressively cross the street in stages. First, you cross the right hand turn lane. You can stand in the middle of this lane. Then you cross the traffic going in one direction, getting to the median. Finally, you can cross the traffic going the other direction. Piecewise-street-crossing is the best way to get where you're going.
5. Do not give up an open seat. In fact, you should move as quickly as possible, as an open seat shouldn't be open for more than 0.5 seconds. Also, if the seat opens up, say, on the right of you, and your friend is standing to your left, you should move over to the right seat, blocking others from getting the seat you're vacating, and leaving it open to your friend on your left. If there are old people on the train, it doesn't matter. Tough cookies.
6. You can always find more room for more people on the train.
7. If the transit workers in the subway station make you line up to wait for the train, this line means absolutely zero when the train pulls in. Push. Shove. GET ON THAT TRAIN.
8. If a train is pulling into the station as you walk up or down the steps to the platform, don't run for the train. Continue at the same pace, blocking everyone behind you.
9. Your subway "transfer" may or may not involve walking out of one station, outside, around the block, through cattle grates, inside, down to one platform, through that platform, and finally to your destination platform.
10. You can always get out of the bus/subway/rat race and take a taxi for $1.25.

The virtues of chinese line and transportation etiquette: violence in entering and exiting, selfishness in taking seats, shameless, stupid bravery in crossing streets, stoicism in tolerating the conditions.

Chinese birthdays

Today is Lu Min's birthday. Or so I thought. He then explained to me, that he was born on November 26 of the solar calendar in 1985. But in the lunar calendar it was October 15, 1985. So actually his birthday was October 15, but that this year October 15 of the lunar calendar is November 24 of the solar calendar. Or something like that. Jim and I tried to explain to him that the concept of a "year" was intrinsically solar, so lunar birthdays didn't make sense. I don't think he got it. But anyway, leave it to the Chinese to complicate yearly birthdays. They probably pick one of the like 5 different days it could be, based on different sequences of applying solar/lunar calendars, on which date has "lucky numbers," the way they pick their phone numbers based on lucky numbers (which results in numbers with 8's being expensive and ones with 4's being cheap). This lucky number crap also probably explains the quick-moving line at the Chinese embassy in LA, which I wrote about in August. I think people just took every 10th number or so, so that they got one with an "8" in it. Jen also experienced this same thing when she went to get her VISA in DC; she accidently took two numbers (a 49 and a 50) and a guy mentioned to her that it was good she took two to get the luckier number. Ridiculous.

An American in Beijing

Today's first guest blog, brought to you by Jen Albinson:

 

"You know you're in Beijing when you're on your fourth computer (the first three being nonfunctional), the gamer in the corner is hawking huge loogies on the floor, and you can't see across the street because of pollution."  -Emily Kay.

 

So, as Emily and I awoke this morning, well-rested (despite the hotel prostitute's two attempts to rouse us for some "mah-saw-gee" - one on phone, one at door), we decided that today was the day to blog.  We have had an epic week and have many things to share. 

 

It being the American week to celebrate families and friends over beheaded fowl carcasses, we brought Thanksgiving to Beijing.  While in DC, I loaded up on non-perishables.  Courtney sent two cans of pumpkin, and Safeway provided a pie crust, cranberry sauce, yams, dried cranberries, stuffing mix, and marshmallows.  Our friend Nandi, who lives in Beijing, offered his kitchen, and we invited our friends Hardy, Stuart, and Jim to join us.  Traditional Thanksgiving, right? 

 

We decided to complete the American Thanksgiving experience by buying our final groceries at Wal-Mart: Zhichun Lu.  They had the traditional greeters at the door, however they said more "ni hao" than "how'r ya doin'?"  Our quest for baking soda proved somewhat elusive.  We called on all the Chinese speakers we knew for help translating, and ended up purchasing yeast and two mysterious white powder substances shelved close to the yeast.  Our fingers were crossed that one of these powders would cause the pumpkin bread to rise.  We passed on the dragon fruit, but did nod to the local cuisine by purchasing some extremely long string beans.  

 

Our efforts at procuring baking soda, flour, and sugar, alas, went to waste.  When we arrived at Nandi's, we quickly learned that he does not have an oven (Nandi: "Yeah, I guess when I think about Thanksgiving, I DO imagine stuff coming out of the oven.")  He also lacked a can opener.  Let's now walk you through our planned menu:

 

Stuffing (350 [177 in Celsius, Emily would add] degree oven)

Sweet potato marshmallow casserole (400 degree oven, 2 cans)

Pumpkin pie (425 degree oven, 3 cans)

Pumpkin bread (350 degree oven, 2 cans)

Cranberry sauce (2 cans)

Green beans

Persimmons picked up at the Great Wall (very autumnal)

 

We had 4 guests arriving in 2 hours, and we were looking at a meal of green beans and persimmons.  We therefore opened a bottle of wine.  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! 

 

Just kidding.  Through the magic of the internet, we determined how to cook almost the entire meal stovetop, in woks.  Yes, we made a no-bake pumpkin pie in a wok with a soup spoon.  We chopped the vegetables on an extra kitchen floor tile.  Nandi generously went to the grocery store in search of a can opener and some new ingredients necessary for a stovetop Thanksgiving.  It all ended up delicious, save the sweet potato marshmallow casserole -- which can't be eaten with chopsticks anyway.  Despite Emily's attempts to inspire the building of a mud oven, we had to let go of the pumpkin bread dream. 

 

Things we are thankful for:

 

1.  Fish.  Namely: the massive one in the transparent shopping bag on the subway, and the one that jumped out of its tank and flopped onto the floor under my chair while I was eating an otherwise delicious lunch.

 

2.  Masseuses that don't understand no, shaking heads, gesticulations of "no/stop."  While Emily and I enjoyed a luxurious couples massage, the masseuse conveyed that he was willing to refill our tea and plate of raisins.  Despite our best gestures, shaking of heads, and limited Chinglish, we were somehow unable to convey "no" to the man.  More tea and raisins arrived immediately.  Being unable to communicate "no": an all new low.

 

3.  Crowded subway trains.  I was waiting for Emily when I received the following text.  "10 minutes late, couldn't get off train."  Apparently the car was so crowded that she physically could not get off at her stop.  She claims she pushed and shoved with the best of them.   

 

4.  Chinglish.  Doesn't someone know someone who speaks a little English?  Apparently not.  A highlight includes: "Lama beat it," referring to the acts of the Holy Ones at the Buddhist temple.

 

5.  Cheap DVDs.  84 of them.

 

6.  Construction.  You know how occasionally there's road work going on outside of your apartment and you want to scream?  That's the constant state of affairs here.  Apparently Olympics + Communist Party = nonstop construction.  Emily's hotel is literally under construction while simultaneously hosting guests.  The Lonely Planet sent us on a hutong tour -- and instead of wandering through quaint Beijing neighborhoods, we encountered a construction sandstorm.  We also picked out a vegetarian restaurant in Beijing, known for it's incredible fake meats.  We arrived to find a pile of rubble.  Meiyo.

 

7.  Saving face.  In a shame culture, when Emily brings her friend to Microsoft after hours to check email, rather than being individually scolded, an email gets sent out to the entire firm the next day reminding employees that interns are not allowed to have guests and to "be professional."  Oops!

 

I'm going to sign off, since the man hawking loogies is really taking it to a new level.  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  I'm thankful for my friends.

 

Love, Jen

fashion

i forgot to post this earlier, and was reminded of it when i stopped to get some froyo yesterday.  that is, the mcdonald's workers in beijing wear the coolest jeans ever, with the golden arches boldly emblazoned on each back pocket.  if a rap artist doesn't pick this up for a music video within the next year, i will be sorely disappointed.  i mentioned these to ben last weekend (by the way, mongolia doesn't have mcdonald's, or any other american chain...amazing...mongolia...the final frontier), and he told me that i should get myself a pair.  we discussed logistics, and while at first i thought it would be way too embarrassing to go in there with somebody and ask for a pair of jeans, we soon realized that me walking in there, pantomiming taking off my pants, and then pulling a 100-yuan bill out of my wallet was a horrible idea.  no, ben thinks i should go in there with one of my mandarin speakers and offer to trade pants (and a cash bonus) for one of the employee's jeans.  we'll see if that happens.

 

by the way the mcdonald's in beijing sells corn, and green bean pie.

mongolia

In China there seems to be very little violent crime. A fair amount of pickpocketing, etc, but not so much of the other stuff. So I headed to Mongolia this past weekend for some raping and pillaging as I didn't want my carnal instincts to go totally dull. I took Air Pillage from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar where Ben picked me up from the airport, and upon seeing him I instantly became jealous of his $15 super warm coat. But actually the weekend was much less cold and drafty than I expected. The people in Mongolia are still people and still require respite from the cold, so it was really ok. As long as I had long underwear on...

The first day we checked out some stuff in UB, and it immediately became apparent to me how much more Soviet than Chinese the city is. The language, the traditional dress, the big square in the middle of the city...all very Soviet...I guess it's just that the people appear more Chinese than Russian that made me expect more of a Chinese city. Anyway, we checked out the statue of the (evidently enormously obese) Chinggis Khaan. I recited the 26-page Wikipedia article I'd read on the man, nay legend, on the plane to Ben and informed him that 0.5% of men worldwide are related to Genghis the gang banger, and about 8% of Asian males. We went to a Buddhist temple, which was cool because I'd actually never been to a Buddhist temple before. Ben bought a trance khoomi CD (khoomi is throat singing, and doesn't sound a bit like it's coming out of a human), and it was awesome to hear Happy Birthday with a khoomi singer set to a trance beat. I love old meets new. At the last minute we heard about a traditional Mongolian instruments orchestra concert from one of Ben's friends. The concert was 100% Mongolian instruments, so mainly the horse-head fiddle and then other instruments I can't name. There was a khoomi singer and other soloists as well. They were all dressed in traditional clothing, which I would call "costumes" but Ben says they wear it on a regular basis. Check out the picture.

The next day we headed out to the country, driving through the ger districts of UB. 60% of the city population lives in gers, and kindly their coal heating produces a nice layer of smog over the city, which, let's be honest, doesn't compare to Beijing's (at least Beijing on a bad day). We kept going out to Terelj National Park, and were picked up by a herder driving an ox cart. We forded the river (never caulk the wagon), Ben got cholera, and now when you pass the spot in future games there's an RIP Ben headstone. We reached the herder's ger, and went in for tea. The Mongolians are huge fans of milk tea, just a combination of regular tea with some milk and (usually) salt. It was great the first time I had it. But after my 20th bowl (every family we went to see insisted on us having some...they're big on hospitality, by which I mean, force-feeding), I was really sick of it. I also think that the milk tea may have given me food poisoning that appeared at 10 PM the night I was leaving. That country milk was definitely not pasteurized (also unhomogenized, raw, in a recylable container)... ;)

The travel between ger/herder families was again via ox cart, which was great because travelling so slowly (~3 mi/hr) you can really absorb the silence and the beauty around you. Also, it was important to notice that the gers were, practically speaking, extremely far apart, which you wouldn't have noticed had you zipped in a car between them. We arrived at the next ger family, who had a very good looking son, what can I say, I have it for men in deels. The father, appropriately known as Bold (who knows how you spell that in Mongolian), was famous in the area for how much he could eat. The first family told me "He can eat 40 buuz! (dumplings)." Actually, it was communicated as flashing 10 fingers four times, pointing to a buuz, and telling Ben in Mongolian, "the next herder." We had some tea, then some more tea, then we helped milk the cow, blah blah, had dinner, and then played ankle bones, which is a game using pig ankle bones as dice, which made me feel like a fortune teller as we played it around a candle in a hut sitting on the floor.

The next day we woke up to the cow I had dubbed "Maggie" the night before as an ex-cow. I guess there was a reason she was being kept in the fenced area around the ger. Watching her being taken apart was somewhat horrifying. Also horrifying was watching them dismember her not only without gloves (and the son cut his hands on a rib at one point, giving him all the diseases Maggie had), but just wearing the same old deel they wear for everything else. Awesome.

We did some archery, went to another ger (oh, did I mention they insulate their barns and gers with cow poop?), ate some horse meat (didn't know it was horse meat at the time, thought it was beef) and then headed to a nice lodge where we lived in luxury for an evening and the next morning. We also rode horses the next morning, which was frustrating because the horses wouldn't listen to us. Headed back to UB, got dinner with Kyle Jaros, was sick all night from food poisoning, flew back to Beijing. Ben said being sick was retribution for my trip to Mongolia being too "easy." Evidently the cold was not as bad as it normally is. But don't worry, it was enough for a temperature-sensitive poser Californian like me.

So Mongolia was definitely one of the most different places I've been. It really was like being in a different era. One without electricity (though sometimes with cell phones that can be charged via a battery pack), where three generations live in a single room, and where traditional dress is not synonymous with out-of-the-ordinary.