The similarities between slaughtering of chickens and massage; 'Defend your ears'; and my lack of filial piety

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14th January 2007

Exhausted from the day before's rigorous activities, I slept in very late. Upon waking I discovered that having originally thought that the damage done falling down the stairs was only to my pride, I was very much mistaken, with my upper body extremely stiff and sore. All that pain of the massage to work out my initial back problems, only to go back several steps! I shall have to begin again tomorrow.

I studied all morning until lunch, just before which Yanling and I made wontons. I then ate two huge bowls full, adding coriander, soy sauce, vinegar, shrimps, chilli sauce and pickled vegetables. Delicious!

Coach Wang

My afternoon was filled with more studying, and a trip to the gym. It was there, five minutes into my hour session, that yet another personal trainer, whose name was Wang, decided that I would like a chat. After a few minutes he decided to show of his English. 'Wo shi Body Building Coach' (I am bodybuilding coach). A further exchange in Chinese and I realised he was actually not a bodybuilding coach, but a personal trainer. I then gently tried to explain the difference between the two, and tried to teach him how to say personal trainer, 'Bu, Ni shi per-son-al tr-ai-ner' (No, you are a personal trainer), 'Dui, wo shi Body Building Coach' (that's right, I'm a body building coach), 'Er, keshi, bu shi yi yang de, ni shi personal trainer' (Er, but they aren't the same thing, you are a personal trainer), 'Dui, ni keyi jiao wo coach' (that's right, you can call me coach), 'Hao, wo jiu jiao ni Coach Wang' (Okay then, I'll call you Coach Wang). I tried.

After another lovely meal at dinner time with all the family, I studied a bit more, then went to bed. I'm praying that I'll have some money in my bank tomorrow.

15th January 2007

It's a bit like wringing a chicken's neck

I have now completed a whole week of lectures! They are all very enjoyable too. I really think I'm going to get a lot out of my studies here.

I spent the entire afternoon working out my training program for the next six months: hugely over complicated with lots of pretty graphs, but it makes me happy. It is not going to be easy, but I have made it realistic. I just hope I don't break somewhere along the way.

Dinner time was really the high point of the day for me. Yeye and I had a very long discussion about nutrition. I say discussion, it was mostly him talking at me, but it was fun to listen to; I think the drinking a few days ago has definitely moved our relationship on. After dinner, I felt the mood was right, so I told him that my dad's father died before I was born, so I never knew him, so would it be okay to call him 'Yeye' (paternal grandfather). A huge smile spread across his face, 'Yes! Yes! You certainly can!' he laughed. I was so happy that I gave him a big hug, then rushed out to go for my second massage. As he has no grandchildren by his son, he has never been called yeye before, only 'Wai Gong' (maternal grandfather). Placed in the context of a culture where the paternal line has been of the upmost importance for nearly four thousand years, his reaction does not seem so extraordinary.

Probably due to my fall down the stairs, this massage was even more painful than the last. My personal highlight was when I was face down, and he took my head to one side, told me to relax, then proceeded to attempt to twist my head off. I imagine it looked something like wringing a chicken's neck. That's what it felt like anyway.

16th January 2007

Eleven people per square metre

In in extraordinarily large amounts of pain from the massage.

Tuesday's teachers are quite interesting. First thing we have the 'dog', who spends two hours yelling Chinese at us from about three feet away at a million miles per hour. Then out second teacher is very softly spoken, she practically whispers, and speaks very slowly and pointedly, her voice rising and falling gently. Quite a nice come down.

I learnt today that in Beijing's peak periods, there are eleven people per square metre on public transport. Now, I know that Chinese people are generally smaller than Westerners, but that does seem a little silly. I'm really looking forward to the holidays!

Went to the gym with the intention of having a brief chat about personal training for my weights sessions. It turns out that it is not even seven pounds a session! Now, obviously this will mount up over six months, but this is such an important part of my life right now, that I am willing to spend it. Also, I have absolutely no idea what I am doing with weights, so after half a year here I shouldn't need too much more help designing my own program in the future. I figure it's a good investment. I spent so long trying to communicate with Yuli, that I didn't actually have time to do any exercise in the end! Not so important, I'm still in transition. Oh dear, I'm afraid my journal is probably going to be become increasingly mundane!

But wait, there is still the wonderful topic of the whereabouts of my money to discuss. After a conversation with HSBC, my mother informed me they have lost it. Marvellous. Apparently the lady on the end of the phone tried to reassure her by saying it doesn't usually happen. Oh, of course. Now I feel much better.

17th January 2007

A less mundane entry today. The university had organised for us to go to see Peking Opera in the evening, so I decided to hang around the campus for the afternoon to save on the hassle of going home and coming back again.

After a hungry half hour after lessons finished, Gong Biao met me and we went to one of the many student canteens around the campus for lunch. My wonderful language partner, who has been working for graduate admissions since he finished his exams told his boss that he wasn't feel well, so he could bunk off the afternoon to help me get aquainted with the campus.

Beijing University is enormous: Imagine putting all the buildings of my university back home together, then you'll get an idea of its size; it also has about the same number of students and staff as Cambridge, twenty thousand or so. It takes me almost ten minutes to walk from my bus stop outside the east gate to the Russian Language Building in the centre slightly to the north where I have my lessons. All in all, a bit too big to be familiar with just yet.

Crazy, little inventions

On my 'tour', we came to the Song dynasty style pagoda, and the lake next to it. Which was frozen. And had people skating on it. I let out an all I can describe as a meep of delight as a smile rapidly spread across my face. 'Do you want to go skating?', Gong Biao asked. I think the look of child-like wonder and feverent nodding probably gave him the impression that I did in fact rather want to go. We walked onto the lake and hired skates. I almost set off with two left footed-skates, but fortunately realised my error before we started.

Neither Gong Biao or I had been ice-skating for years, so we wobbled off rather unsteadily, as is quite natural when you have two thin strips of metal over ice. We soon got back into the flow of things though, and eventually started whizzing around, back and forth, criss-crossing across the lake. I even managed to do some of it backwards. This was my first ever experience of ice-skating on a lake, and it is very different to indoors. It was quite like skating outside on wheels, in that the surface was really uneven in places, but my roller blading experience pulled me through and I didn't end up on my arse.

A further difference between your conventional ice rink and a Chinese lake, as the presence of ice-skating chairs. Absolutely lethal, a wooden square on two runners, a top of which is a minute stool or chair. The chair-skater then either punts himself/herself uncontrollably along with two metal poles, or worse, has a conventional skater push him/her along at great speed. Saw some spectacular chaos created by these crazy, little inventions.

There are a lot of people in China

Then, yet another administration-related journey of semi-epic proportions. You can either pay by cash on the bus, which is one kuai a journey (about 7p) or get a student epos (electric point of sale) card than you swipe when you get on and off, which makes each journey two mao (less than 2p). Wonderful. However, to find the strength to go through the procedures to get this card, you have to really really want it. A twenty minute walk to the bus stop, a further half an hour on the bus, and another ten minute walk, we arrived at the bus station. Along with half of Beijing. Joining the back of the significant queue, I asked Gong Biao why there were so few of these places that sold bus cards, if they were so popular. He then pointed out that there were, in fact, lots of these places around, it is just that Beijing is very big and there are lots of people. 'Ah, China's main problem' I commented. He just smiled.

I was pleasantly suprised to find the queue moved at copable pace. I was not so pleasantly suprised when I got to the desk and found that when you go for the first time you only pick up the forms to apply for the bus card, which then have to be stamped by your university (everything in China needs somebody's stamp), and then you go back and actually get the card. This mild feeling of discomfort did slightly distract from my niggling worry that my money had yet to arrive in my bank account. Checking my emails later that evening, I discovered that HSBC are currently carrying out an investigation to find out the whereabouts of my money. Feeling extremely unamused.

Back at the campus, I only had twenty five minutes before I needed to be outside Shaoyuan number two to get the bus to watch Peking Opera, so Gong Biao took me to a baozi (steamed bready things stuffed with meats, vegetables or tofu, which you then dip in a mixture of any combination of the following: vinegar, soy sauce, chilli, garlic paste - these are one of my favourite foods here) canteen on the way. What an absolute sweetheart, he had insisted on paying for everything, despite the fact I had invited him for both lunch and dinner, and he had taken the afternoon off work. He even paid for my bus fare! I have definitely struck lucky with my language partner, it's like having an older brother.

'Defend your ears'

Food wolfed down later, and I raced to the meeting point, only to find out I was the first one there, as per usual. A few minutes later Tom, Vicki and Lizzie arrived, and we got on the bus. Mary already had something planned for that evening, so she missed the show, but she did send me this message before I left: 'Have fun, guard your eardrums! x'. Have fun, guard your ear drums. Perhaps I should give you a little introduction to Peking Opera.

Popularised in the Qing dynasty under the Qianlong Emperor, it is now firmly rooted in Bejing's cultural history. The operas are often very lengthy affairs, some three hours long, and tell tales of love and sorrow, immortals and heroes, good and evil; all the typical themes. The actors wear brightly coloured, intricate costumes, and have their faces painted the iconic white and pink. These you might recognise. However, the definining feature of Peking Opera is of course, the music.

The songs, whether sung by men or women, are all sung at a whine high-pitched enough to shatter glass. The unpredictable pitch and rhythm changes of the melody is accompanied by the orchestra, a collection of cat-screeching stringed instruments, very pleasant wind instruments and percussion, the latter of which when played appears to mimic the sound of a drum kit being thrown down the stairs. In between the songs, the high pitched voices continue as the actors narrate the story, interspersed with the whole cast freezing every now and again, looking dead ahead with fixed bulging eyes. Now that's entertainment.

Despite all my preconceptions about Peking Opera, I genuinely really enjoyed it, whining, crashing, staring and all. Guests sit at tables of six, upon which tea and sweet snacks such as sugar coated peanuts, dried jujube berries and melon cakes are provided (I am convinced that the place we went to was used in the film, 'The Painted Veil', which I highly recommend, although which incidently is clearly not filmed in the interior of China but most likely in Yunnan, which is much prettier but horribly unlike the real interior of China where the story is supposed to take place. The interior is not full of those singular mountains and semi tropical vegitation, but either large plains of mountain ranges. So now you can astound your friends and family with your cultural and geographical understanding of China). We were lucky enough to have a table right at the front, so we had a fantastic view.

Because the performances at this particular hall are catered to provide for tourists, we only watched two scenes from one opera. The first of which was set in a monastery to which a woman and her younger sister went to plead for her husband's release. When the evil head monk refused, the sisters called up a flood to destroy him and his followers. There followed an impressive display of the physical manifestation of the flood and the sisters using marital arts to battle the monks. Much stick juggling, somersaulting and fighting later, the women fled the monastery to end the first half.

I, open mouthed turned to my friends, 'Wow!'. 'Ye, wow.' Vicki replied without quite as much enthusiasm. While we all agreed that the physical side of it was spectacular, no-one else enjoyed the music. It is a pretty special sound, I have to admit, but in the right context I truly enjoyed it. Vicki was freaked out by the bulging eyes.

The second half began with a big sigh from Lizzie, steeling herself for what was to come. This act told the story of the husband fleeing the monastry, and returning to his wife. The younger sister, enraged by the man's lack of compassion for going to the monastry in the first instance, threatened to 'shoot him with her sword' (there were subtitles, although mostly in Chinese, some exciting English translations occassionally popped up). Lots of arguing later, and the revelation that the sisters were infact immortal snakes, they all wandered off happily into the sunset, agreeing that if the husband was badly behaved again, the younger sister would shoot him with her sword. A very satisfactory ending indeed.

18th January 2007

'Not a snowball's chance in hell'

Oh my. This has been the most stressful day so far. In order to see if any progress had been made on locating my money, I quickly checked my emails before I left for the bus. My poor mum had yet again rung up HSBC to find out what the hell is actually going on, was constantly put on hold, and eventually had to ask to have them call her back. The Priority (hah!) Pay department left a message for the my branch, who then contacted my mum. The message was, here is a long number, go and contact the Chinese bank.

Well, excuse me, but as far as I am concerned I paid you to go through the procedure of transferring my money, so why are you asking my to do it? And also, what on earth is this number you have given me? Am I supposed to just call up and say, 'Hello? Bank of China? Yes, well, I have a number, but no money, can you help me please?'. Furthermore, there is not a snowball's chance in hell that my Chinese is good enough to explain this. I know I have people who can help me, but they don't know that, do they? All they know is that I've been in China for almost two weeks with no money. Well thank you very much. And why can't they call up? They are the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation after all.

One temper tantrum and a few angry and frustrated tears later, Yanling and I went to get the bus. She told me not to worry, that it'll all be okay, and that if I need any money to just go and ask. This is not the first time she's offered to help me out, and she's not the first person either: all my friends, Gong Biao and the whole family have offered to lend me money if I need it. Thank goodness for them.

Back home, Yanhua called the bank for me. Having called five different numbers as we were consecutively directed, she eventually got through to some one who vaguely knew what they were talking about. Basically it all boils down to this: If I want to go and find out if my money has even arrived in China, let alone if there is a problem with it, I need to go to the central bank, which would take about an hour and a half to get to, probably would have to wait at least an hour if not longer to get seen, then come back. Yanhua selflessly volonteered, while I had a small hissy fit. I decided to try and get in touch with my mum first, as this was really not on.

Sitting outside one of her schools at seven thirty in the morning, stealing someone's unsecured wireless, we both had a huge rant about the absurdity of it all. Given that no-one knows where my money actually is, it seemed a bit pointless to make such a long journey, only to find out that my money still hadn't arrived. I have to say I have no idea how any of this works, I had a sum of money in my bank account, now I don't, and the numbers are floating around in the world somewhere, so somehow now I have much less money than I had before, but I haven't actually spent anything. Next time I think I shall just take it all in my suitcase!

Anyhow, after yet. a. nother. telephone call, HSBC have launched a second investigation, which could take up to ten working days. They are going to call my mum daily with updates. She really is a saint. I'm not sure what actually happens once they know where it is. I am hoping it will go something like this: 'Oh! There it is! Naughty little money, running off like that. Now, get into that account like good little cash. There we go.', although I think it will probably be more like 'Yep, we know where it is. Oh, you want the money? Oh right, well, that'll probably take up to two hundred and three working days, and you'll have to call us up every day to remind us, because otherwise we just won't bother.'

Had another massage, which was much more relaxing than last time, as I think I'm starting to loosen up! Defintely helped with my stress relief. After I got back, Yanling and I watched the first half of the Painted Veil, a U.S. - Sino collaboration about English people in China (perhaps that accounts for the confusion over where the interior of China is). Thank goodness I'm living where I am, they make stressful situations seem very bareable.

19th January 2007

Ah. I think today was probably representative of what my life is going to be like once I get back to Cambridge: studying, intespersed with meals and exercise! Studying here is a much more pleasant affair than in Cambridge, much less stressful! I spent the entire day just going through the first chapter of one of my texts books doing extra work! That's right, supplementing my homework in order to attain a better understanding, rather than just trying to get through all the work, just to have it completed. Fascinating stuff.

Filial Piety (my lack of it)

Yanling has gone away with work for the weekend for a meeting, so in the evening it was just me and the boys. Chuangtao cooked a really hearty dinner, what's known as 'Jiating Cai' (Home food). It's more simple than the restaurant food, which although is also delicious, uses quite a lot of oil, sugar and salt. It's every bit as tasty though. At this point, I have to apologise to my father, who received what I can only describe as a scoffing in reply to his question do they have salami in China. They do. Apparantely it originated in Sichuan (south west China), and tastes a lot like the spicy salami you can get in Italy. I guess sometimes I forget how diverse China is. Sorry Daddy!

In the evening I watched a Chinese programme about a famous Communist general Xu Shiyou, a series which I've been getting increasingly engrossed in, whilst catching up on the back log of my travel blog. I watched the second half of the painted veil, which is very good as I've mentioned several times, and then spent about an hour uploading photos onto my latest blog. I should think I've spent at least twenty hours on it so far! I did not have any intention in writing as much as I have, but I am rather enjoying writing a diary for the first time in my life, so I hope I'm not boring all my readers too much.

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Photos

The frozen lake
To the bottom right you can see the crazy ice chairs

Gong Biao
Ice skating is fun!

At Peking Opera
Our welcome message

Peking Opera
Beautiful costumes and traditional make up (the eyes aren't too bulgy here, I'm afraid I didn't manage to capture one of those moments)