Rats

Last night I was woken by what I'm pretty sure was a rat giving birth in the built-in cupboard above my closet. There were the sounds of muffled shufflings, claws on wood, and high-pierced screeching. I bolted upright in bed and flipped on the lamp next to me, hoping light would protect me from anything about to shoot out from behind a door to gnaw me to death. But apparently light and me shouting "Go away I want to sleep" is no deterrent to rat birth. The noises continued for another 15 minutes and then I just stared at that cupboard for about another hour before finally feeling safe enough to lie down and try to fall asleep again...with the light on of course.

I've heard something scampering around at night for some time now, but have tried to convince myself that it's the rain outside or people moving in to the apartment above me. After last night,though, I can no longer lie to myself. There's no mistaking rat shrieks for new neighbors or inclement weather. Although tonight the cupboard is oddly silent, so maybe it wasn't rat birth I heard, but really rat death.

A trip to the doctor

It'd been about 4 weeks of battling this wretched bronchitis when I finally broke down and decided I needed to go to the doctor. In China, as far as I can tell, they don't have clinics like in the US. Instead, they head straight to a regular hospital. My supervisor's girlfriend and now friend of mine, Meizi, generously offered to take me to get checked out. So I got my supervisor to cover for my last class of the day and met Meizi at the front gate of campus. We hailed a cab and went to the First People's Hospital of Shanghai.

I had the choice of paying an extra $30 to go to the "upscale" western half of the hospital where there are no people lying around on cots and the nurses speak English, but I opted to save my school the money and go where the rest of the population gets care. I still think I made the right decision, but man did it take a lot of time and energy to get a diagnosis. I think we went back and forth between various windows and buildings literally about 20 times. After paying and filling out a name card, we got in to see a doctor in a small room crammed with 12 other people all listening to my complaints. I guess you just get very friendly with all the other patients around you. :o)

The doctor ordered that I get an EKG, CT scan, blood test, and a urinalysis. I'm not quite sure why all of this was needed...and I was so afraid of them taking my blood, I started crying. For one, I'd barely slept the night before, so I was exhausted and just an hour earlier I'd learned that one of my students passed away. Plus, I've read stories about contaminated needles being reused at hospitals here and I'd just read a book detailing the spread of AIDS at blood banks in a nearby province. My poor translator and support, Meizi, had no idea how to react to my tears. I finally calmed down and realized all they were going to do was a finger prick. That I could handle.

Then came the urinalysis. I have finally gotten used to the squat holes here and can use them with ease, but a new dimension is added when one is required to squat and pee in a small plastic cup. And once one successfully pees in the cup, one must pour the urine into a small glass vile and carry that down the hall without a cover to the testing station. I am so embarrassed to say that during the transfer from cup to vile, I spilled. So now I have pee on my pants, oh, and I'm walking around braless from building to building because I had to take mine off for the CT scan. What a day!

Three and a half hours and numerous tests later, the diagnosis of bronchitis was affirmed. I was sent home with a z-pack, some kind of medication used for pneumonia, and orders to rest. Hey, at least after all that I know that my heart is working well and I don't have a blood disorder!

Karaoke

Yesterday morning I woke up to the most unusual sound. I am used to hearing car horns honking outrageously loud and long, squeaky brakes being applied, dogs barking, and Fur Elise playing (it is the "bell" for one of the schools located behind my apartment), but this is the first time I've heard singing. A group of men and women outside my window decided to get together in the street and sing karaoke. And not just any karaoke....sappy British love songs karaoke.

Who Needs a Doctor?

I spent the day in bed trying to recover from self-diagnosed bronchitis. I broke down and said I needed to go to the doctor today and found out that I can skip that step in the process and simply request the medicine I want at the pharmacy. I contacted my supervisor as I need approval from the school to get medical attention if I want reimbursement (I think they offer a little leniency here in emergencies). He said I could either go to the hospital (clinic) or, if I know what I have, just go to the drug store and pick it up. Having had bronchitis numerous times in my life, I know this is what has kept me miserable for the past week, so I opted for the latter.

A kind friend helped me explain my ailment to the pharmacist, who gave me the requested antibiotics and some other kinds of gel tabs that are also supposed to help. The package informed me that not only is the medication good for bronchitis, but also if I happen to have sinusitis, a skin rash, or gonorrhea. Good to know! I, like many, am weary of taking excess medication, but after having tried some traditional Chinese herbs and still feeling like crud 6 days later, I am ready for the western medication route.

Interesting to note the different advice I've gotten from Chinese friends here to cure my illness. I am told under no circumstances to have orange juice...and just need to stay away from all cold drinks in general. (I was reprimanded for having ice water with dinner last night.) I am also not to have "cold" food and instead only have "hot" food or fruit (but not oranges). Porridge or gruel is highly recommended. And also, to my surprise, tea can interfere with medication, so I can't have that either. I'm advised that hot water is just the best choice. I think this all has something to do with Qi, or the flow of energy in the body, but I don't know for sure. Either way, I am following the advice and hope to feel well enough to get back to teaching and giving my open lecture next week on campus.

发送同样的消息到多个新闻组 SPAM

I have done a HORRIBLE job studying my Chinese lessons and have missed quite a bit of class due to work and illness, so my Mandarin is progressing at a snail's pace. However, I became so excited the other day when I got my first completely Chinese spam email...and I could read it! I can't bear to delete it, so it sits in my spam folder, while all the other messages there get erased. I know, I'm a nerd.

The Back Street

The back street behind the campus I live at is amazing, so full of life and character. Virtually anything you need can be found crammed within those few 4 blocks. Need a bicycle repaired? Pants hemmed? A calculator? Live crabs? Pet hamsters? Homemade noodles? A haircut? Foot massage? Phone card? Plunger? Fresh tomatoes? Fake Nikes? Rugs? Tea? Passport photos taken? A whole duck? ATM withdrawal? You name it, the back street has it. Most of the shops are just a few feet wide, so the items inside are often found spilling out onto the street. During the day it is fairly easy to meander through, but at night, that's a whole other story.

The vendors come out and take up most of the available sidewalk space, leaving just enough room for a few people to edge through. They lay out their wares on blankets or make-shift tables, beckoning you to come look at and buy their goods. And the people! Since space is limited in China, most homes are pretty small, so people congregate and spend time outside after they get home from work in the evening. Plus, like in America, after the work day ends is when there is time to run errands and pick up food for dinner. So the streets are crowded with the shops and the shoppers and friends and families mingling after a long day.

But my favorite part about the back street at night is the clothing people wear. It doesn't matter if it's winter or summer, the fashionable style to don is pajamas. Usually two piece sets with a matching top and bottom. Women put on their high heels and flannel p.j.'s to run to the grocery store or go buy fresh cut flowers. Men wear their pajamas as they sit together playing Mah-Jong on the corner. I think they are saying, "I have the luxury of not having to work now and instead can choose to spend the evening relaxing in my pajamas." Ah, the good life.

Definitely Lost in Translation

I live at the Foreign Experts Guest House on campus. Sounds flashy, but it's really a fairly decrepit old building greatly in need of renovation as half of it is off limits in danger of collapsing and the other half that is in use is cockroach and reportedly rat infested. Okay, I have to remember that I AM NOT IN AMERICA and need to be flexible. I bought a nice blue bedspread and puffy purple pillows and put up pictures of family and the drawings my nieces sent with me to brighten my living space. It's now a bit cozier and I'm slowly settling in.

I really do want to be flexible and don't want to complain, but I decide I need to tell the front desk about the light bulbs that are burnt out in the bathroom, the hallway, and the other nondescript room I inhabit. A good friend of mine, who is visiting for the day, passes this information along to the staff here and they agree to fix it for me. Later I walk my friend out and when I get back to the front desk, Red, the manager, tells me that my lights all work just fine and the maid will escort me upstairs to show me how to use the light switches. Interesting...okay.

So the kind maid follows me to my room and we enter the front door. She flips the hallway light on and off for me. See? Okay, yep. Got it. She then turns on the bathroom light, then goes into the other room, performing the same routine. I have lived here for over two months, so they MUST know that I've needed and used my lights some time during that period. For the life of me, I cannot figure out why they felt it necessary at this point to show me how to use the basic light switches in my apartment. It's as if they wanted me to think the lights were fine all along, but I know they replaced them after I asked (and before the maid "showed" me how to use my light switches) as the new bulbs are a completely different shape than the ones that were there 30 minutes ago. Go figure. If you have any idea what was going on, feel free to share!

Access Denied

I'm not sure if I should write this as my blog might be blocked in the future...but here goes nothing.

It is widely known that China uses heavy censorship on the internet, blocking users from various sites. I am now accustomed to waiting forever for my yahoo email to load and frequently not being able to log on to Facebook, but today I got my first clear message of denial into a website. My screen read:

"Forbidden

You don't have permission to access /China/Provinces/I-China-map.gif on this server."

Apparently trying to view a map of China is very taboo. Good thing they stopped me before I used that information for evil purposes :P

Chinese Halloween

As some of you may know, my experience living in China this time is quite different from my experience 4 years ago. However, I am trying to keep a positive attitude and break out of my shell by doing new things and meeting new people, which is why I decided to accept my student's invitation to attend a Halloween party on campus this past Friday. Halloween is not normally a holiday kept in Asia, but the Chinese are slowly picking it up and adding it to their list of celebrations. Of course, they do it a bit differently than we do in the west.

First of all, I found NO chocolate candy anywhere. I guess the females here are worried about keeping their girlish figures (they will not accept chocolate prizes when we play games in class)...which is funny since they are mostly size 0. Instead, the "candy" is milk or vegetable flavored. (Hey, that's similar to the ice cream made of red beans and the cookies made of seaweed! Although I must admit I enjoyed the cookies made of seaweed.) But I am still happy they had some candy and that I got to try it!

The costumes are also pretty limited, although I can't blame this on the choice of the party-goers. I think many would like to have dressed up as something other than a cat or rabbit, but Halloween apparel is not readily available here except for mouse and bunny ears sold on Nanjing Road and the Bund during National Day in October. And who am I to talk, I came dressed as an American English teacher. So, any of you entrepreneurs out there, maybe you could strike it big by opening a costume shop in Shanghai. Just an idea.

The Chinese are a little less socially mature compared to Americans, so college students here enjoy playing games we maybe would see at junior high parties. Which I actually think is just fine as children grow up too fast in the US. Who doesn't love bobbing for apples, tying balloons around your ankles and racing around trying to pop others' while keeping yours intact, and forming groups based on a number called out by an emcee and being forced to do some kind of "punishment" if you can't find a group? Honestly though, I am a sucker for games and had a blast! I knew only one person when I arrived at the party but by the end of the evening had made several new friends from around the globe.

Overall it was a great night!

Yellow Mountain

Two weeks ago, SHUFE, the university I teach at, generously arranged an all expenses paid trip to Huangshan, or Yellow Mountain, in Anhui province for the teachers in our International Department. I was told by my students before I left that "Once you see Huangshan, you need not see any other mountains in China." And they were right.

Knitting is...sexy?

So, even though prostitution is illegal in China, it is still quite rampant in Shanghai. Under the guise of offering innocent foot massages, women wait in the entrance of their establishments, ready to give their customers a "happy ending." The district I live in is NOT a main tourist thoroughfare, so often times the female "masseuses" sit in the lobbies waiting for business. And, oddly enough, as they wait in their sequined dresses and stiletto heels they pass the time by...knitting. Who would ever have thought: knitting is sexy.

World's Worst Band

I have figured out that the world's worst band whose practice area is located near my window, has astutely deduced when I need to sleep, and then promptly chosen to play at those precise times. Now, the car horns honking behind the foreign expert's guest house where I live, they have yet to map my sleeping patterns, and thus continue to honk at random, but frequent, intervals.