Ni hao, pijiu!

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Two quiet weeks of orientation in Beijing to get me accustomed to living in China. This is what I envisioned. How very, very silly of me.

I was still recovering from Thailand and after a good nights sleep at KL Airport I rugged up to brace myself for a ridiculous temperature change. Now accustomed to airports and boarding international flights I waited as long as I could before alighting onto the plane. As I walked down the aisle I caused a commotion bumping into a young male passenger. I offered my apologies( 'oops, sorry' )and was bombarded with calls from his large group buddies 'no worries mate! Throw a shrimp on the barbie!' I couldn't help but laugh as I got to the my seat and an Australian couple sitting behind me enquired as to what I said to set them off. Apparently when I am tired I sound like a true blue Aussie. During the flight I discovered the very nice man sitting next to me was from a small country town in England called Tamworth. He and his family were flying to Beijing for a friends wedding and then flicking off back to the UK. We swapped contact details and he promised he would show me around my hometown's namesake if I was ever in the area. His description of the UK version was very much the same as my Tamworth (yes, I own it now) except more lush and less bogan. This world is far too small.

I was met at the airport by Robert from Teach and Travel China (TTC) and escorted to the hotel where I would be spending the next two weeks before being placed at my school. As I was a day early there were very few interns wandering the halls but it wasn't long until I met the Brit Pack (albiet with two Irishman). I was bunking with Miranda who at 22 had represented England in Rugby for 42 minutes (her career cut short in the 42nd minute by a 'fecking French cow and her boot connecting with my kneecap'), next door to Ruth with her sing-song Irish accent and Ming who we adopted as our Mandarin translator, Oshin to the right (the 19 year old who can drink me under the table - 'but Meg, to be fair, he IS Irish') with the never ending chatter of Ben and further down the hallway was the delightful storyteller, Will.

The second day was set aside for arrivals so after we formally checked in we headed to the subway in search of 'things to look at'. We discovered Dongdan in the middle of Beijing and within the first few minutes had clocked two McDonalds. Hello Western World. Someone had read about 'Snack Street' and had visited it the night before so we headed that way to be tempted by sheep testicles, scorpion and tralantula. Being bold I had dumplings with 'some delicacies' instead of the lambs brains that were being shoved in my face. First 'real' Chinese meal over and done with we headed toward the Winter Palace.

It was night time. It was freezing. In fact, it was well below freezing. The frozen river around the Forbidden City was evidence of this. Being a practical soul I had opted NOT to pack boots because, of course, I did not want to lug them all over SE Asia. Footwear, and the problems associated with the lack of, is becoming the bane of my existence with this trip. It hit about 6pm (and possibly -3) before everyone decided my feet, dressed in ballet flats, were about to fall off and I should go back to the shopping district to purchase something more sensible. Miranda and I trekked to find a cab which in a normal situation would have been easy but we were female and white. Lesson number 1 about China: Cab drivers hate picking up foreigners. Not only do we smell of dairy (which is somewhat repulsive to the Chinese nose) but we are also loud and rude because we speak in English. We tried to flag down about 10 cabs before we cracked it and walked back to meet the others who had sought shelter in a local tea shop. On the way we witnessed another Chinese way of life - children going to the toilet in the middle of the street. Chinese children have massive slits in the back of their pants so that they can freely go to the toilet whenever and wherever they need to. We saw a little boy peeing on the footpath and wondered how IT didn't fall off in the cold. I felt like a right sook about my frozen feet. No wonder Chinese children have so much discipline.

Will and Ben wandered off to explore some more while we debated how to get back to the hotel and out of the cold. Will ran back to tell me he had found a store that sold Uggs, much to my delight (ironic that I bought Australian brand footwear in China). After finding a half decent pair (without butterflys and fluffy wool all over them) it occured to me I wasn't in SE Asia anymore. The Chinese have little or no understanding of English. None. Nada. Zilch. After debating with Miranda my European size (AUST size 7-8) I typed 4-0 into the calculator and showed the vendor. Her initial reaction: throwing her head backwards and roaring with laughter quickly followed by her yelling out 'shishi' (40) to all the vendors around her. Their reaction was the same, if not worse. Please note that this also happened a couple of days later when I was purchasing leather boots at Saliturn Markets. Apparently I am a freak of nature with gigantic feet. Would love to have seen their reaction to Gemma's size 10 suckers. The never ending shoe saga will continue for sure. Watch this space.

We spent the first night of many huddled in the warmth of what we referred to as'The Bar'. It was just around the corner from the hotel and being Chinese New Year everything else was shut. In fact, it wasn't a bar at all. It was a restaurant that sold cheap beer (5 RMB for a longneck) and stayed open until, well, as long as we sat in there. Anyone that has been out with me knows I find it very hard to go home if the bar is still open and am normally one of the last to leave. I suspected that the Brit Pack were my kind of people. The kind that did not pay attention to the time of night that it was because usually, at a relatively normal hour, someone would politely ask you to leave the premises. We did not notice that the waitresses were asleep on the seats near the cash register until around 5.30am when someone accidently glanced at their watch. Time flies.....

Orientation itself included Mandarin classes, Tai Chi, calligraphy, a Weekend Course on teaching, tours to the Summer Palace and the Great Wall. We were split into three groups for the courses and had a load of time off to shop and sightsee ourselves. The whole group itself was around 85 people, mostly Brits and the Irish. There were only five Aussies among us and a handful of Americans. Having been with Cass and her British accent for a week I had a hard time convincing some of the Brits that I was in fact Australian. After exclaiming that 'Bloody Brits are everywhere' at lunch confusion reigned. 'What are you then?' 'You don't sound Australian. Where's the twang in your voice?'. Maybe I forgot to pack it? I had only been away from home for 7 weeks and I was starting to lose my Aussieness. Eek!

Beijing itself was ridiculously clean and modern. On arrival it was dead in Chaoyang district and in the city itself. Chinese New Year had started and the people of Beijing had gone home to their towns and provinces to spend the holiday with their families. Many of the shops were closed and the streets were empty. It wasn't until a few days into orientation that they started to return and the city became more lively. Firecrackers were the name of the game. In Chinese culture it is common for people to set off firecrackers to ward off evil spirits during New Year. I have never seen or heard so many crackers in my life. I felt like we were living on the Gaza Strip. They were constant all throughout the day and night and everywhere. There seemed to be no rules except the more dangerous the better. We witnessed young children setting them off, crackers being placed in the MIDDLE of busy streets and footpaths and our own TTC fireworks display which we were standing right under outside our hotel on a night out. If I never see or hear a cracker again I will be a happy camper. For Will's take on the firecrackers see: http://blog.sideways.me.uk/?p=634

Mandarin classes were fun. Up until we started them on Day 4 all I could say was 'Ni hao, pijui' which translates to 'Hello, beer'. Will, who had taken a Rosetta Stone course before arriving, was teaching me one new word a day. Unfortunately, 'dog' and 'sorry' did not make up a sentence I was able to use yet. Another group had taken the Mandarin course before us and had complained that the teacher spoke in Mandarin the whole time. NEWSFLASH PEOPLE: WE are English teachers. WE will be speaking in English the whole time. It is how it is done. Before I left for China I was forward planning for 2012 (as you do) but Dad decided that I should not be planning anything as he had high hopes I would meet a Chinese businessman and get married (because according to all of you, the whole reason I am overseas is to meet someone and get married. Sorry to disappoint but ain't gonna happen!). I decided about 30 seconds into class that I would marry Patrick, our Mandarin teacher. He was the cutest, funniest little man ever and laughed himself stupid when we pronounced something wrong. By the end of the two days I could sing along to 'Beijing huan ying yi' (the official Olympics advertising song), order rice, beer and noodles and tell people I was from Aodaliya. Everything I need for the next 5 months. In the meantime I was conducting my own language lessons in Aussish. My students, Miranda and Oshin, were fluent in my native tongue by the end of orientation. They could use the words and phrases 'bogan'(as in 'that is sooo bogan' and 'what a bogan!'), 'pash', 'dodgy' and 'wanna shag behind the shed?' in context and Oshin had adopted a cracking Aussie accent. Miranda complained that she in fact knew no Mandarin by the end of orientation but could converse freely in Aussish and Lativian, which was part of the weekend course.

We became proper tourist during tour days and free days about town. Being a white foreign tourist in China is something else. People stare at you constantly, parents offload their children onto you and take snapshots and you get cat calls of 'hello!' everywhere you go. On the upside, you are able to speak freely about events going on around you without fear of reprisal. It wasn't long before we were having very loud conversations about goings on right in front of us. In fact, I got a little too comfortable and at one stage I gave a very large sarcastic rundown of a guy that was running up the steps of the train station. His mate took the escalator and I opted to make fun of them. After we passed them, Will kindly pointed out that they could actually understand me because they were white Europeans and that maybe I should get that out of my system before I land in the UK as I would clearly be bashed!

The tour days with the group were wonderful and climbing the Great Wall was unreal. It had snowed a few days before (I saw snow for the first time ever on the way home from The Bar - very romantic) and the climb was treacharous. We watched fellow interns tumble (the Great Falls on the Great Wall) and Chinese tourists slip and slide. It was, however, ridiculously breathtaking and we could have spent hours there. It took as about three times as long to get to the third pit stop and back as we kept having to pose for photos with the Chinese. Poor Sam, a fellow blonde Aussie, stood at one point for a good half an hour as loads of tourists surrounded her to take token shots. She was an instant hit! I hit the deck DURING a photo shoot but was saved by my resident rugby star just before connecting with the ice. She was very handy to have around indeed. On our days off Will and I went on 'dates' to the Beijing Zoo (the most depressing place I have ever been to in my life - check out the photograph of the wallaby standing in front of the heater), Tianamen Square (initially underwhelming but started to grow on us) and stumbled our way into The Forbidden City without realising it ('We will just have a quick look at this thing over here before we go to the Forbidden City....oh wait, this IS the Forbidden City'). We didn't, however get a glimpse of pickled Mao as it was closed by the time we got there. For those that haven't heard, visitors to his tomb can walk past his body that lies in a glass case, preserved for many years to come. Whilst inside you are not allowed to speak, comment or laugh and the tomb is heavily guarded. Disappointed we were not able to tick it off 'seeing dead person' on our 'tourist list' we retreated from the cold in search of a hearty meal.

Food is a constant source of entertainment in China. One Brit summed it up brilliantly during a demonstration activity in class when he said 'I like English Chinese food but I do not like Chinese Chinese food'. We were provided most meals from the canteen of the local university as part of our program. Meal conversation basically revolved around random guesses as to what we were actually eating. Nothing in China is labelled properly and more importantly, every part of an animal is used in cooking. When we saw the word 'rou' which was broadly used for 'meat' we knew that it could be anything from offal (according to one food vendor 'This is, how do you say it? Intestine. It is very delicious'), a millimetre of meat served on a bone or pure fat strips fried. The Chinese believe that an animal is tastier if you cook it whole so it is common to have the whole animal including head, legs and feet served up in front of you. Dog was actually on the menu at one restaurant, served as a platter which you could cook yourself. We opted for the chicken platter instead but got a surprise when 'chicken gizzards' and a head were cooked right in front of us. It is the cutural norm that food is ordered in mass and that no one person has one dish to themselves. Everything is shared out. When there are 10 people at a table it can get confusing as to what we specifically ordered in our broken Chinese, come English. At one stage we asked a waiter what was being served onto our plates. He scratched his head, looked up nervously contemplating the right words and held us in suspense for just a moment before explaining intelligently that 'this...this is what you call....ummmmm....Chinese food'. It did not take us long to quit asking as to what we were shovelling into our mouths. As long as it tasted good we were happy.

That is, in fact, if you can get the food into your mouth. My coordination skills have never been top notch and using chopsticks is a struggle. I thought I was getting better until a waiter came and brought me a spoon during one dinner 'because you can not use chopsticks well'. This would have been fine but the 15 other people around me did not get the same service. After using the spoon for a few mouthfuls I switched back to the chopsticks, determined to master the skill. The waiter appeared within seconds and nudged the spoon back at me with a sympathetic 'tsk' and a smile. Point made! I was actually getting better but on the last Thursday we took a tour and stopped at a buffet for lunch. We were all slightly put off as the food was not only labelled but we were provided with knives and forks. After nearly two weeks we were getting accustomed to the Chinese way and did not know what to do. That lunch was the quietest meal we had in the two weeks (closely followed by Will's birthday dinner at Heaven - 'too busy eating, can't talk. Happy birthday, blah, blah, blah) because we knew exactly what we were eating and we weren't cursing the damn chopsticks every two seconds. Other tour days became all about the duck. Are we getting duck? How much duck are we getting? Why did they get their duck first? Where is our duck? Can we have more duck? Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck. Overdosing on duck is never a good idea and we actually said no to ordering it on our last night. The meal was not quite the same and if I knew that the quality of food I had access to would drop dramatically over the next few months, I would have ordered seven of the things.

With our placements in hand the two weeks came to an abrupt end. An open bar and a party with another group of interns who had been in Beijing for a month was the most ridiculous and unforgettable night of the orientation. We all realised that we were being spread across the countryside, hours away and in some instances, days away from each other. TTC had told us stories of past interns who had so much fun in Beijing that when they reached their placement ended up leaving because it was in no way comparable to the experiences of orientation. New friends, and relationships, were separated instantly and it was down to the business end of the deal....

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