Spencer Does China

Welcome Back

2009-11-09T23:07:00.000-08:00

It's been almost (or maybe more than) six months since I last wrote here. Why? The Great Firewall blocks my access to Blogger, Facebook, Twitter (who cares...), and Youtube. OF course, I can't access any websites with nudity (not like I would anyways...) either, but I'm not keeping score.

The picture above is from a temple in Hong Kong. My mom and I took a tour of the island while she was here and i would say this was my favorite part. The week before, we went to Xi'An to see the Terracotta Warriors. The picture of me looking thoughtful with a sword was taken outside of the government run warrior factory. You can buy a warrior for just over $2000. Don't be surprised when you see on in my future house. The second picture is the main warrior burial site. Seeing them in real life was awe inspiring, and began to make more sense when I learned that the 8000 clay warriors and their tomb was ordered to be build by the emperor when he was just 13 years old. If you were a teenager with seemingly limitless power, what would you order your subjects to do?

A brief update: my previous boss L left Vaupell in February, right after my whirlwind trip around China. It turns out the implications of this "administrative adjustment" are overwhelmingly positive. Stella (the dog) is coming up on her first birthday, is fixed, and almost through with her false pregnancy (thank goodness). I'm much better adjusted to China than when I previously wrote here, and don't miss home nearly as often.

This last weekend, I took a trip to Zhuhai to see a girl I've been dating for a few months and, thanks to her, stumbled upon an underground go-kart track - it is awesome. At my best, I finished the course in 1:01 minutes. After ten minutes of whipping around turns, accelerating until I thought the engine would explode, and drifting around corners, I was drenched in sweat, exhilarated, and ready for more.

The racing den, as it ought to be called, is dimly lit and would be considered illegal in the US. There is one exit, which would likely be considered a fire hazard by American standards. Descending into the drivers lair is an ominous experience if there are racers on the track: engines rip and tear as they are pushed to their limits by teenage and young-adult racers hungry for an adrenaline fix. For 40 RMB (about 5 US dollars) a racer can commandeer a vehicle with low center of gravity, steel bumpers around the edges, and a top speed of at least 80 mph for ten minutes - as long as you drive in the right direction, there aren't many rules. I don't remember the last time I had so much fun.

New Friends and Stability

2009-03-12T22:34:00.000-07:00

Things are going well for me – allow me to explain. In the last three weeks, I have been in Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Shanghai, Liangyungang, Qingdao, and Xian. Of those areas, one is a special administrative region, two are municipalities directly under the supervision of the central government, two are located in special economic development zones, one is the birthplace of China’s favorite beer, and another is the oldest capital in China: home to the legendary terracotta warriors of the Qin emperor. Why are these cities of interest to me? It all has something to do with the Chinese aircraft industry.

As of yesterday, I’ve got a new friend living with me at my apartment. Miss Liang, Abo’s wife and CFO of RCS, recently bought a dog at the meat market (I’m not asking any questions) for her daughter, Jiayan. Twelve years old and unimaginably cute, Jiayan spends weekdays at a boarding school almost an hour away from where her parents live. For the past few weeks, the puppy has been hanging out with the security guard at our shop. You wouldn’t have known had you sent the puppy two days ago, but it has puffy white fur and a brown face; she’s about the size of a plump housecat.

As a reminder that she really belongs to Jiayan, my coworkers named her Xiao Yanzi, which means little swallow in Mandarin. After trying it out for a few days, I decided to call her Stella instead. The name seems to fit.

I ran a low-key propaganda campaign for the past week or so with some of the staff at RCS to support my request to bring Stella home with me during the evenings and to let her hang out in my office at work during the day. My lobbying proved to be quite effective with the only condition being the pup should be around on Friday afternoons when Jiayan returns from school. Seeing as I’m at work already when she shows up, it’s not much of a compromise.

On the ride home in our company driver’s car yesterday, Stellaleft a warm puddle of pee on the floor mat at my feet just as we drove up to my apartment complex. The driver graciously agreed to clean it up, even though I offered to help. My new resident, the little swallow, after a long walk, some dinner, and an hour long shower transformed from an unruly, dusty, gray fluff ball into a cute, fuzzy, mostly-obedient friend. The learning curve is steep, but Stella is learning to obey, heel, wait her turn to go out doors, not chew on everything, and sleep alone all through the night. Today, she chilled out in my office all day without barking, whining, or getting upset once. I think once I get rid of her flea problem, she’ll be a pleasant and emotionally healthy companion.

One thing I have observed that I, as of now, only know to react to as strange is how almost every Chinese person interacts with my new friend. Almost all of them do one of the following things: making strange whistling and clicking noises, slapping her face in a manner she clearly does not enjoy, grabbing her roughly by the legs, tugging on her leash, making strange shrieking noises, jumping up and down, or talking to her in the most obnoxious manner I have ever seen a gaggle of women coo at a baby. I’m not ready to draw any conclusions about what this behavior may suggest, but it certainly is interesting.

Before I came to China to work for Vaupell, I had thought about having a dog but originally ruled it out as impractical. This situation is almost a perfect arrangement. I have no commitment to the dog if I need to move to another country, I don’t need to take care of it when I travel, and I still have the opportunity to build a relationship with her, have a companion here, and most of all, I’ll always have a friend to hang out with after work. It doesn’t hurt that she’s terribly cute as well. There’s something irresistible about a dog with uneven floppy ears.

The second picture attached to this post is of Luxun, a friend of mine who works at the shop here in QC. My original intent for this picture was for it to be a marketing shot, but I got to thinking that it wouldn't hurt to show you all a little bit of the shop. We both graduated from college in the same year and were born in the same year too. His best spoken English is "let's go," so all of our communication happens in Chinese. It works out. We're planning to hang out maybe this weekend. First guy friend in China - booyah.

Long Hours

2009-02-19T03:43:00.000-08:00

Vaupell has been keeping me busy-very busy. I am grateful to be up to my eyeballs with work to do while so many in the US and China struggle to find work. I am better at my job than I was a month ago which may have something to do with the long hours I have been putting in. This is not a complaint. I have a routine that is working, am almost always on time, and as of this week am managing stress effectively. On Sunday, I will head to Shanghai with suits and ties with the mission of keeping quiet and listening. I won't say too much more about it, but know that I am excited for this trip. My Mandarin has improved so much since I have been here that I chuckle at how littl I spoke when I arrived in September. My boss L and I are getting along well and I consider him as my closest friend here. My train from Kowloon, HK is about to arrive in Shenzhen. The plan is to meet for dinner with the logistics/shipping associate whom is helping me set up logistics forthe rework project I am managing on the China side, then try to make the last bus back to Shajing. It's looking like I'll stay in the city and catch an early morning bus back to work. Time to cross the border. More later, I miss you all.

The Deal

2009-01-05T20:22:00.000-08:00

While waiting for my ferry from the Hong Kong International Airport to Fuyong, Shenzhen, I've run across somethin I'd like to share. The BBC has employed a journalist named James Reynolds to live in Beijing and blog his observations about China. In short, it's a lot more thoughtful and insiteful than mine.

After years of studying, researching, and experiencing China a big why thought has risen above the rest of my unanswered questions: how does the Communist Party manage to stay in power? This post by Mr. Reynolds offers a suggestion that I can get on board with: http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/thereporters/jamesreynolds/2008/11/the_deal.html

If you're interested in traveling a little further down the rabbit hole, I suggest you take a look.

I can't say that I've ever had a Chinese person explain the arrangement so clearly to me, but it seems to fit in with the behavior I observe.

Culture Shock

2008-12-15T21:20:00.000-08:00

In the past, my notion of culture shock revolved around the notion that it only manifests itself when one crosses imaginary political boundaries. This weekend in Shanghai, I refined my belief about this strange human phenomenon.

To be very clear, I still experience culture shock living in Guangdong province, though it comes in spurts. Usually, it occurs when something happens and I find myself feeling confused. I mean, completely baffled by what I have just witnessed. I define culture shock as being completely stopped in my tracks because what I'm experiencing is so foreign to the situations I've trained myself to react to regularly.

Culture shock hit me in Shanghai this weekend. The biggest contrast appeared to me when contrasting two experiences I had; one took place in the Shenzhen Airport, the other in the Shanghai Hongqiao airport.

For this trip, I attempted to buy my ticket on eLong.com; after that day, every foreigner I spoke with each told their own horror story about why such a choice is foolish. To guarantee my security, eLong asked me to send a photocopy of both sides of my credit card and a photocopy of my passport via email or fax. Like hell I'm doing that in the US, not to mention in China.

Upon arriving at the airport, I was not surprised to find that my ticket was not available, i had no choice but to miss my flight and pay an extra 350 RMB for a new plane ticket. In the middle of my phone call to eLong to figure out what the hell went wrong with my purchase (the problem was that I refused to send them my identity theft package), the non-English-speaking airline worker behind the counter (who spoke some god-awful dialect of Mandarin that I struggled to understand and whose words ratatatted like tommy gun fire) hung up my phone call and demanded I buy a new ticket. I lost it and exploded in a rapid-fire slurry of English that appeared to terrify and confuse the airline workers. People in positions of authority in deep China (like Guangdong), are used to telling people what to do and getting what they want. We Americans are a little different. In the end, I realized I had no choice but to buy a new ticket, find the nearest bar (unfortunately they only serve beer in the Shenzhen airport), and wait. By the way, my new flight was delayed two hours due to weather problems, simultaneously; another flight to Shanghai by a different airline took off twenty minutes after my departure time. If it smells like funk...

In Shanghai Hongqiao Airport, everything ran smoothly. The security guards and airline staff were polite, helpful, and not argumentative or manipulative. This is the changing face of China; it is alive and thriving in Shanghai. The element of culture shock can be broken down into one simple element: in shanghai I can expect demand excellence of people and expect results without excuses or complaints. The same holds for Hong Kong. Whether this phenomenon exists as a result of Western influence, I am not yet certain, however; I do appreciate it.

The other small aspect of culture shock I experienced in Shanghai was the speed at which conversation between a group of Americans progresses. It's almost schizophrenic compared to conversations I have over lunch here. Life moves fast in cities the size of Shanghai, but I couldn't help but notice the way all four of my CET Alumni fluidly dove between topics and skillfully interjected witticisms without over-monopolizing talking time or derailing the flow of conversation. Especially, the fact that a woman was freely sharing her thoughts and opinions as well as unabashedly showing off her talents in a group of man stood out to me when compared to the realities of Guangdong life.

Yes, in our lifetime, we will observe China systematically and effectively copy most of the West's technology and ideas such as gender equality. However, the elephant in the room, and the place where China is truly innovative, is at the high levels of their massive bureaucracy and economy. To the best of my knowledge, no government has ever managed to control such a massive economy so successfully in the iron-fisted fashion favored by the CCP. It is clear that China can not sustain the speed and quality of their economic development without the West's technology or help, but can its government maintain its autocratic control over Chinese people who are increasingly saturated with Western thought? I say it can not be done. The Window to the World park in Shenzhen will only stymie the curiosity of their population for so long.

High Blood Pressure

2008-11-30T09:05:00.000-08:00

Things about China that annoy me:

The people above me with the singing water faucet!!!!! I actually yelled at the ceiling tonight and banged on it with my umbrella. Yeah, it got that bad.

Sporadic internet bandwidth. Sometimes I can only load the first page of my blog, sometimes Facebook stops working, sometimes, Skype shows me being online for hours after I have signed off. It is a mystery. Are my emails being blocked, or is nobody writing to me? I may never know.

No matter what I do, the food here seems to make me fat. Is it the rice? Is it because most everything is cooked in peanut oil? Or is there something wrong with my beautiful white body that causes me to turn this food into fat instead of staying as skinny as the brown people around me do? Le sigh.

The spitting. Although holding a license to haulk the biggest, nastiest loogies I want as I walk down the street in public is liberating, it quickly looses its charm when someone right next to me does it!!! Gross!!!

This next one has nothing to do with China: Have you ever noticed that those irritating (and sometimes funny) chain emails that get sent to you all seem to be written by the same person? I have.

Unpredictable quality of DVD movies. I mean, the only cost 60 cents. I expect perfect audio and video on all 5 of my Harry Potter discs.

Chinese people have no problem with lying. It makes for a good exercise in gathering facts and doing research, but damn I miss Anglo-Saxon Judeo-Christian inspired truthfulness.

Apartments don't come with heaters. I froze for two days while I had strep throat before I could finally crawl to the grocery store and buy a couple of oil heaters. It's nice now, though!

Some pharmacies require a prescription to buy Amoxacillin, some don't. All I can say is, I am thankful for the ones that don't.

Why did my camera stop turning on this week? Who knows, but it's a great excuse for a trip to Hong Kong!

In case it seems like I'm having a bad time, I'm not. I've been working on this list for a while, so enjoy. I'll write something positive next time. I'm pretty sure I will have high blood pressure by the time I leave China. I can't wait to come home to a place where EVERYTHING WORKS!

Back in the Game

2008-11-25T21:10:00.000-08:00

A week ago, I felt like public enemy number one. On Wednesday afternoon, everything came to a head. It started with a Skype chat with my boss Larry.

"It's time to buck up Spencer!"

To put it lightly, I was resentful.

Part of my job at Vaupell is managing the molding, assembly, logistics, and communication of a project for one of our US divisions. What that basically entails is making sure materials arrive on time, prices get negotiated, and parts get out the door when they're supposed to. It's been a bit hectic, as I'm new to injection molding, management, project management, China, Chinese language, Chinese culture, Chinese people, Vaupell, the Chinese company we JV with...you get the idea.

I thought this would be pretty easy. All I've got to do is tell people to do their job and they'll do it. Right?

Wrong.

The learning curve has been steep, but I finally feel like I'm making progress. I worked 14 hour days Wednesday through Friday and Monday-Tuesday. Saturday was intense as I spent most of my time negotiating with our Chinese partner Abo on...well lots of things. The Chinese negotiating style is not exactly what we westerners are used to. If Abo didn't get the answer he wanted from me he used one of two tactics: getting angry or changing the subject and coming back to the contested issue later. It took a lot of patience, but after about six hours of talking, he got his managers mobilized, agreed to open the shop on Sunday, and got the assembly line moving. It was really quite remarkable. Finally...I can relax, but with one eye open.

Despite a few hiccups this week, things are moving along smoothly. I've forefited my trip to Beijing for the Beijing Aerospace Tradeshow (which I hear is a flop), but I feel good about having my project on track and soon to be back on schedule and meeting ship dates/quantities. All that's left now is my accounting project; I still have four and a half days until the big boss comes into town and wants to see results.

On Monday, I felt a lot of pressure and didn't see any end in sight to the seemingly endless stream of problems, uncompleted tasks, and cultural frustrations of living abroad. Today, I'm back in the game. I haven't had a lot of time for fun this week, but presenting a well structured, thorough, and organized report to my CEO next week will be worth the sacrifices.

After he leaves, I've just got one more week until I drop two sleeping pills, hope for a business class upgrade, and settle in for a long flight back to Seattle on December 19th.

I can do this.

A Trip to Zhuhai

2008-11-23T04:35:00.000-08:00

11-22-08 5:22 PM
I know it’s been a while since I’ve written, and yet again much has happened since my last entry. Last week, I hosted a Taiwanese customer for three days, though he didn’t take too much maintenance. In fact, he didn’t really say much at all. I had much more fun with the representative from the company supplying plastic for the project I’m managing. On Saturday, I took a late train in to Hong Kong to meet him and a surprisingly attractive friend of his for dinner and drinks. I was a little disappointed we couldn’t get seats at the Italian grill we originally intended to dine at, but the Japanese restaurant across the street was not bad. Positioned in Soho (it’s phonetic), a posh district of Hong Kong that reminds me of Seattle’s Capital Hill, we were all ready to unwind after a long week. Let’s just say the sake and beef kabobs were excellent. So excellent, that after we no longer fit in at the Japanese restaurant, we “walked” down to another bar for Sapphire martinis – an enjoyable, and much needed, night.
Earlier that same day I went over to Mongkok (also phonetic), a district of Hong Kong known for good shopping, in search of a new camera. I had the brand and model all picked out, a cool new compact camera made by Panasonic under the Lumix name, and even had a shop scoped out to buy it at. After almost an hour of testing out the camera and the salesman preparing the product and its ad-ons for sale, my debit card purchase was declined. I was scheduled to meet my friends in less than half hour. I tried everything I could think of, splitting the payments across accounts to keep under international purchase limits, paying part cash, etc. but nothing worked. Finally, when I got a second to call my bank (after asking a stranger how to use my international phone to make calls), I learned that my bank suspected fraudulent activity on my account and frozen my assets. Thanks guys. After I informed them that I live in China and travel to Hong Kong often, they agreed to back off. Long story short, I now have my awesome camera and you can expect to see many more pictures of my adventures.
After a long, productive, stressful, exhilarating, and exhausting week at work (most of which I haven’t begun to tell about here), I am now headed to Zhuhai(say it, joo hi) with Abo (ah-bwoah) and his family to attend his good friend’s wedding. I’ve been told by many of Zhuhai’s beauty. Originally, my plan for today was to meet another supplier for dinner (the supplier of the final material I need to complete my supply chain for this production order), but he flaked and Abo offered. What would you do? I guarantee you’d make the same decision. So far, I’ve yet to see a part of southern China that is not horribly polluted or densely populated, so I’m excited to discover whether the rumors about Zhuhai are true. Even if it doesn’t quite measure up, I’m curious what attending a Chinese wedding will be like. Upon getting in Abo’s car (where I now sit), I noticed he is decked out in a two piece suit and looking snazzy. His wife Miss Liang (women keep their last names during marriage in China) is also decked out. I am wearing my green gap t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of New Balance tennis shoes I picked up in Hong Kong last weekend. They’re purple, white, and gray; I am hardly dressed for the occasion. I expressed my concern, but Miss Liang told me not to worry. Evidently foreigners can getting away with being inappropriately dressed to special occasions. After all, western barbarians don’t know much about being civilized, especially those whose country has only existed for 250 years. That may not be exactly what they’re thinking, but I’ll milk it.

Insomnia

2008-11-17T10:11:00.001-08:00

The toughest battle I fight here seems to be the one against loneliness. I get around it mostly by immersing myself in whatever icons of American culture I can get my hands on: movies, music (Juno soundtrack today), Facebook stalking (I'm really fearing the day that Facebook shows how many times someone has looked at your stuff), and my new hobby photography. Well, to be honest, I already liked photography. My new camera, though, is allowing me to take my game to new levels. If anyone knows where I can pick up a "discounted" copy of Photoshop, send me an email. Come to think of it, I can probably find that here. Not like I would ever think about buying unauthorized software or movies...

I am committed to writing in this blog more frequently and keeping the posts shorter. The longer I wait, the more there is to tell and the longer the entries get. As things come up, I'll do my best to sit down and spit some stream of consciousness at y'all (hey, i've got a couple southern friends so it's ok).

This insomnia I'm experiencing hits me frequently. I'm convinced it has to do with being lonely. Why am I lonely? Well, the average education level among the immigrants here is 6th grade and most of them were farmers less than five years ago. Needless to say, we don't have a lot in common. I've also got what most likely amounts to an irrational fear that if I don't do things like listen to American music and watch the Dark Knight as much as possible I'll turn Chinese or something. I do my best to run with the good moods and not eat too many Oreos when I'm feeling shitty. I'm workingon that Oreo problem as I'm actually getting sort of fat.

I've been avoiding signing up for a gym membership at the neighborhood weight room mostly because I've been holding out for something better. Yes, laziness played a part in stalling too. Don't worry, I'll take pictures. It's that bad. As I've told Owen a few times, I wish someone would hurry up and invent the "Taste-O-Vision." The device looks like a gas mask hooked up to a TV. Whatever is being eaten in the show miraculously is dispensed from the hose mask. An old episode of the Garfield television show highlighted this phenomenal future invention. Why would I want this technology to exist? Because the smells that go along with each place I go really drive the memories I form. Whether it's the mothball piss smell of the train station restrooms or the greasy stench of the waste bucket in the workers' canteen, the smells of China add a lot to the experience. It's not all bad, though. I have become quite fond of the smell of roast goose and of the exquisite tea that Abo sometimes serves to me after lunch.

So much for making this one short. I'm out.

China: A Walk Around Shajing and Songgang

2008-11-17T08:48:00.000-08:00

I took these pictures in my neighborhood. A little background: I live in Shajing township and work in Songgang township, both of which are located in Baoan district within the city of Shenzhen. You can think of the townships like the districts in Seattle, for example South Seattle and West Seattle.

The picture taken at night is of a sugar cane stick seller. They go for about 14 cents and are quite tasty. To prepare them for sale, the vendor slices off the tough outer layer to reveal a light yellow, fibrous and deliciously sweet. Not a dainty treat, eating it is much like gnawing on a turkey drumstick.

Step 1: chomp a bite-sized piece of sugar cane.
Step 2: chew the fiber and suck out the juices
Step 3: spit the remaining cane fibers onto the ground.
Repeat until done.

The picture of the many floored building was taken at the Louhu commercial city, the choice place to pick up a fake Rolex, Gucci handbags, or cheap DVDs. It is made up of five massive floors of tiny shops jammed with excellent copies of pretty much anything you want.

The row of houses are upper middle class homes that are often inhabited by all generations of a family.

More Hong Kong

2008-11-17T08:42:00.000-08:00

New Camera in Hong Kong

2008-11-17T07:06:00.000-08:00

Insect Invaders

2008-11-09T18:08:00.000-08:00

I don't think I've written much about my apartment to all of you which is where I spend quite a bit of my time. When I first moved in here a month and a half ago, the space was quite barren. It's three bedrooms with front and back decks and two bathrooms. When I first moved in here, the emptiness regularly got me feeling lonely as I sat on my couch watching old episodes of Scrubs and discount movies on my 17" laptop screen. One day, though, I got an idea: filling my apartment with plants would not only decorate, fill space, and inject the air with fresh oxygen, but it would also be a fun hobby. I'm not quite disciplined enough right now to take care of a pet, but I can (usually) handle watering my nineteen plants every morning. Taking care of these new housemates has certainly been more work (and fun) than I originally expected.

As I've settled in here, I've begun to increasingly regard my living space as being constantly under attack; I have developed an amusing frontier mentality. Just when I start to relax, there seems to be another tribe of Mongolians beating on my Great Wall and breaking through my defenses. The most regular offender of my space is the decorating team (meaning the team installing all of the interior - sheet rock, tile, cabinets etc.) in the apartment above mine. On Friday I came home to find workers from the apartment above shimmying down to my deck to build supporting scaffolding for their work on the deck above mine. My first reaction was anger and panic, but I looked about the complex and saw several other decks supporting similar upstairs decoration projects and decided I ought to hold my tongue (though when they were still drilling and grinding concrete at 7 pm I told them to go home, and they listened!). A wise Mr. Bortner of WWU Finance taught me that putting on a show of anger and losing a little face goes a long way towards getting what you want with the Chinese. So far, this has worked well for me.

By far, my most invasive and persistent enemy has been the troops of insects that incessantly attempt to lay claim to my territoriy. Their attacks come in waves, as if centrally coordinated. Drifting off to sleep, partially paralized by the light case of insomnia I've developed since I moved in here, I imagine candellight meetings in the courtyard bushes below between mosquitos, fruitflies, whiteflies, and ants planning their next assault on my home. Like the ancient Mongol hoards invading China in pursuit of livestock, women, and grain, my adversaries seek foreign blood, rotting food, and treasures unbeknownst to me that lie somewhere deep in the heart of my defenseless plants.

My fight against the mosquito horde culminated on one sleepless night two weeks ago when I awoke to their all-too-familiar whine in my left ear and no less than 25 fresh welts on my arms, face, feet, and lower legs. I flipped on the lights, blasted the AC to maximum cold to drive them to the well lit and wide-open ceiling, and armored up (both protecting against the cold and the needle-nosed beaks of my uninvited hungry guests. I spent the rest of that night and the next afternoon camped out in my apartment watching movies and killing every mosquito that dared show itself in my clearly defined no-fly zone. I even tried dousing myself in insect repellant and spraying a perimeter around my bed, pillows, and blankets to ward off their advances. Occasionally, I still find a small mosquito who was brave enough to follow me home from a late dinner or buzzed his way in when a careless Chinese visitor leaves one (OR ALL) of my windows and doors open. For the most part, they know their place. I fought a similar battle against fruit flies when I first moved in here aswell. I used similar tactics and achieved the same result.

Today, I waged an aggressive offensive against my newest enemy: tiny, speedy, plant loving black balcony ants. I keep some beautiful red flowered plants on my deck that, despite my best efforts, have wilted leaves and dying flowers. One, though, has remained resilient. Today I discovered ants crawling up and down the branches of the dying plants and a coordinated strike of no less than 200 ants under the healthy one. One week ago, the dying plants had the same ant infestation. My theory is that the ants first scope things out, then set up camp together, and finally rob the plant of something...roots, flowers, though I'm not sure what. After the resources are used up, they move on to the next target. Though I don't keep any pesticides in the house (yet!), I recently acquired a bottle of hairspray to firm up my new hairstyle. Say what you want, but my hair looks damn good. In an instantaneous moment of genius (I never said I'm modest), I scrambled for my weapon and quickly managed to stick them all in place leaving them to a slow (and firmly held) death. Needless to say, I'm quite proud of myself. So, every half hour or so, I go back outside on patrol to check for scouts and eliminate them. I hope to send a message to the mother colony that venturing to my deck is far too dangerous and ought to be avoided. With any luck, my message will reach Mao-squito and the (only recently) Stallin (nope, not a typo) Fruitfly as they plot their next attack on my lair.

Homesick

2008-11-04T01:03:00.000-08:00

It’s been almost a month since I’ve written here and needless to say it’s been too long. To quickly update you all on what kind of trouble I’ve been getting into recently, I’ll use the word vomit method to get it all out. Since the beginning of October I have traveled to Hong Kong twice, moved into my new apartment, bought new furniture and 19 house plants (two of which have already been infected with whiteflies), gotten sick from (according to Ada) eating too much spicy food, eaten cow lung and duck head, munched on chicken feet and guzzled beer with Abo, taken far too long to respond to my blog, trained a team of Chinese workers on new assembly work, been nearly taken hostage by two rouge cab drivers, bought DVDs for cheap, bought a Playstation 3, not been to the gym even once, made friends with some girls at a Japanese restaurant, and hosted over fifteen corporate customers from five countries at work.

To be honest, I’m pretty homesick right now. In a chipper tone and through her warm motherly smile, Miss Liang (the boss’ wife) asked me why I am so unhappy today on the way to lunch. Walking past the stinky little canal of waste hardly inspired much creativity in me, but I did my best to tell her I’m doing fine in hopes that she’d just leave me alone. Some things are just too hard to explain in a foreign language. A person can be fluent and still have trouble finding the words to express the deepest things we feel. Whether it’s being in love, deathly afraid, or just missing your home even the best spoken can be left speechless. I miss everything about home. I miss grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup and Italian pasta with sausage. I miss sunshine that’s not clouded out by pollution, blue skies, and Chuckanut drive. I miss hot chocolate and Farmers Market honey. I miss the farmers market. If someone has an extra oven they’re not using, please box it up with some chocolate chip cookie mix and send it over. Please also include a good bottle of Merlot, or a tasty Cab, some microbrews, and a can of Dr. Pepper. While you’re at it, please contact the presidents of Carrefour and Wal-Mart and tell them they should reorganize their supply chain such that their Shenzhen stores are all stocked with the delicious fruits and vegetables that are sold in Seattle. Just tell him I asked you to call and mention it’s important. Just say “stat!” and he’ll know what you mean. I also miss Washington rain and green.

Shopping (Stalking?)

2008-10-04T23:52:00.000-07:00

My intention for this trip to one of Dongguan's many shopping behemoths was to gather data and information on yet another aspect of culture (and to gather price data for future expenditures and comparative analysis). I think most people refer to such a trip as window shopping, but my obsession with showmanship and three years of economics training leads me to exaggeration. As far as I can tell, the Chinese have been expertly convinced at some point in their short history as consumers (think about it, it's a true statement) that they require assistance to buy pretty much anything. This is not surprising, given the massive power of China's propaganda machine, which, I encourage you all not to fool yourselves into believing is an institution of the past. I could also argue that Americans have been similarly convinced that they are clever enough to buy products they know nothing about without assistance; or I could convince you that our propaganda machine (yes, we have one) is also massive (albeit multifaceted and competitive), but I digress.

From the outside, the mall looks like a cheap reconstruction of a European castle, though; its exterior is decorated with tiles I would expect to find in an '80s US public restroom rather than the ornate stone one would expect that which is being copied (almost everything in China is a copy of something) to be built out of. Five stories high in its entirety, each floor is packed with shops (including grocery stores and liquor/cigarette shops) and people. Ada explained to me that this is an upscale mall for Dongguan, which is a municipality of ten million people. To find swankier shops, one could travel to Shanghai, Beijing, Shenzhen, or Hong Kong, but this one is the cat's meow for shopping in smaller cities such as this one.

Considering the relative prosperity of the people shopping here, I am surprised by the conservative shop decorations. The shops are small and the floor space is used quite efficiently. My memory best relates this experience to outlet shopping centers. The white walls are hung with a few branded posters and all of the models are Westerners dressed in New England style outfits. The majority of shops here are outlets of chic US, European, Japanese, and other international clothing companies such as Crocodile, Stocatto, Nike, Kappa, and my personal favorite Le Coq Sportif from France. Of the men's clothing, there are four styles present in this mall: snooty douchebag golfer, clean cut sports enthusiast, sharply dressed businessman, and edgy well dressed club guy. Unfortunately, I'm not quite as adept at identifying female fashion, so I'll save myself the embarrassment of attempting to distinguish them for you. As far as my sophistication goes, there is well dressed, poorly dressed, and hot. Yet again, I digress…

As is often the cases in China, my American instincts reacted with feelings of claustrophobia as people casually push past me and frequently stand a bit close for my liking. This experience is not unique to shopping here. I am becoming accustomed to people standing closer than I am comfortable with regardless of where I am: in elevators, on busses, on sidewalks, at work, etc. Sadly, China will not change for me alone so I'll have to accept it.

Now that the stage is set, I'm pleased to get along with writing about the experience that inspired me to tell you all about my trip to the mall. A far as I can tell, being a shopper in China is like being stalked, or rather, bumblingly pursued by a fledgling ninja. After two trips to Jake's (Olympia's roaring gay bar), I thought I had a pretty good idea what it must feel like as a girl to be relentlessly hit on by inept young gentlemen. This shopping experience, though, totally reframed my opinion of what being sought after really feels like. If you feel the need to tell me that I don't know what it feels like to be a woman or that I should be more careful in blah blah blah...then write it on the comment board; that's what it's there for. Below is a list of rules and truths I consciously developed as I attempted to exist as a passive observer of the Chinese shopping experience.

1. Evidently, walking within fifteen feet of a shop's entrance warrants the sales representatives to "welcome" you into the store by yelling "huanguanni!"

2. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT make eye contact with the pretty girl with an Adidas tattoo on her cheek, or anyone else sporting the telltale sales associate outfit unique to each shop; you will regret it.

3. As a Westerner in China, you stick out. It could be your blue eyes, it could be you desirably pale skin; it could be you dirty blonde hair, or it could be that you're about five inches taller than most people here but the fact is that you cannot hide. What's worse is that they assume your pockets are overflowing with money you are dying to spend at their store.

4. If you politely say, "I'm just looking, thanks," the salesperson will (unfortunately) still be committed to assisting you in whatever way they can. They might say "oh, would you like to try that on?" or "maybe a larger size (fatty)" or "how about this style" (that can be used again and again, as can suggesting a larger size since I'm huge here), but do not be am so foolish to expect they will eventually respect your wishes to shop independently.

5. Even the seemingly most respectful sales associate is always stalking you. Once you enter their territory (translation: enter the store and come within twenty feet of them) you will be trailed until you leave.

6. If you stand still, they will slowly encroach upon your position until they are so close it becomes obvious what they ate for lunch.

7. Should you be foolish enough to engage a sales associate (translation: admit that you are remotely interested) you will buy something. This rule is not absolute, but you won't get away without causing at least a minor spectacle. However, as Ben pointed out, as long as you aren't afraid to cause a scene and lose a little face, it's easy to get your way. That advice has been more valuable than I can convey here. Someone who chooses to publicly lose face is impossible to deal with and the Chinese just freeze up. Score two points for the Guilao (foreign ghost).

8. Plan on buying something. Then, limit how much you will spend. It makes the whole experience much more enjoyable and gives you leverage against the unscrupulous sales associates.

My greatest disappointment with shopping in Chinese malls is that prices aren't negotiable. On the upside, though, most of the malls have their own wacky discount system that can be exploited by a clever shopper. The discount of the day at Rainbow, the chain that so far appears to be all over Guangzhou Province, was something to the effect of spending $100 to receive a $100 coupon. There were other derivations of this discount, but that's the basic idea. Since this was a holiday weekend, the idea behind it wasn't too complicated just to get people spending money. Ada tells me that there are more interesting discounts on less popular shopping weekends so I'll keep my eyes open for those. In the meantime, it's comforting to recognize yet another aspect of culture China has masterfully copied from the West: turning national holidays into phenomenal excuses to spend money. People respond to incentives. So it goes.

My final thought for this post is this: Cup O' Noodles in China is way better than in the US. Y'alls' missin' out.

Frustration...Revelation!

2008-09-23T22:15:00.000-07:00

Even though Lisa so eloquently reminded me that places outside the US move more slowly and experience more interruptions, it doesn't change that I can't get what I want right now. I know that chocolate chip cookies will make me fat but I eat them anyways. So, since I can't do much of anything on my to-do list, I am switching gears and downloading the unabridged audiobook of Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. That way, even if I have boring work to do, the internet doesn't connect, the power goes out, my email won't connect to Vaupell's US server, the Microsoft network rejects my login, and the toilet is clogged I can still relish having three horus of battery power on my laptop (and many more on my ipod) to bask in the virtues of capitalism while living in a Communist country (with special Chinese capitalist tendencies).

Typhoon's a Brewin'

2008-09-22T22:05:00.000-07:00

It will likely not come as a surprise to those of you whom are familiar with my propensity towards showmanship and fanfare that I chose to start my blog with such a dramatic title. Indeed, a typhoon (that's Asian for hurricane) of "strong to very strong" intensity is expected to hit Shenzhen tonight at about 8 pm (5 am in Seattle). Now don't get all worried on me here.

I'm in good hands and I assure you that even if I don't want to be taken care of, I will still bewell looked after. Vaupell's (the company I work for) business partners, Abo and Miss Liang, are very nice people and make sure that the guilou (that's me, the foreigner) is comfortable and safe. And if they don't have time to look after me, there's always Ada and Selena, the interpreters. Their English is excellent, they find humor in my frequent cultural and linguistic blunders, and selflessly donate their time to helping me get settled. In fact, I question the extent to which they actually enjoy my company despite their sunny, possibly face-saving, generosity. I will continue to be sensitive to this aspect of Chinese culture as I assume it will be a common theme of my stay here.

Anyways, the typhoon's path is being cleared of pollution which, sadly for the monks and protesters, is headed directly for Tibet. Two days ago, the pollution got so bad that I had no choice but to cut my walk about town short after an hour. On my way back, I walked down a sidewalk that is positioned directly behind a line of restaurants (sort of like a mini-mall but each outlet is approximately 10x15 sqft) each with a fan venting the billowing kitchen stoves. The combination of pollution, air-borne hot pepper oils, and oily carbon discharge from the high-temp woks was utterly suffocating. So, I held my breath, crossed the street, and headed back to the dry air conditioned Baolilai Hotel for refuge.

On Sunday, the whole team and I (Syd, Steve, Abo, Ada, and Selena) all piled into Abo's van for a trip to preview the new apartments Abo just purchased. (Side note: Abo's name is actually Qiu Songbo, but per the Cantonese tradition of nicknaming, everyone calls him a-bo. Similarly, since my Chinese name is Tang Zhaojun, the Chinese like to call me a-jun (say it ah-jwin)) The apartment is in a brand new complex in a nice area of Shenzhen with a big shopping mall across the street plenty of good restaurants, a big park with miniature constructions of famous sites around the world (or maybe just China). I was quite impressed with the whole area and actually find it to be even more convenient, even, than living on a college campus.

The apartment is a few floors up and I will only share the floor with one other unit. My neighbors will be Ada and Selena, the interpreters, and they both showed great enthusiasm for my cooking abilities which as of yet are still only a myth. My apartment, which I will move into in less than a month, has three bedrooms – polite couch surfers are welcome. It has two bathrooms, both are beautiful, and lots of windows out of which on a clear day there is a mountain (hillside) view and on smoggy days I’ll be lucky to have a view of the neighboring apartment complex. That isn’t a joke. If you want to come visit me in China, tell me when you’d like to come and we’ll work something out; unless, of course, I don’t want you to come in which case we won’t. That is a joke…mostly.

For those of you new to blogging, you can post comments to each of my posts. I’ll try to write something and put up pictures at least once each week. But, if nobody is commenting, then I’ll assume nobody is reading; in which case writing a blog is not nearly as fun (remember, I like being a star…and winning.) You do the math. Since some of my readership are old and refuse to welcome new technology (or as they like to put it, don’t see the need to learn something new when the old still works), I’ll also send this out via email so you can also have the option if sending me more personal responses to my posts. If you like, you can also send me naked photos; though, the Chinese government will probably look at them before I do.

If you want to get in touch with me, I will do my best to be connected on Facebook, Gmail, and Skype. My gmail account is spencertribwell@gmail.com. On Skype, I go by spencer.tribwell. If you can’t figure out how to find me on Facebook, we probably shouldn’t be friends or should seriously consider downsizing our friendship. Skype is free, unobtrusive software that doesn’t cost any money to talk over the internet. Go pick up a Bluetooth headset and an adapter if you need one and start calling me.

China is 15 hours ahead of Seattle (that’s right, the whole country is on one time zone). I’ll keep all of my communications open at work, but the best times to reach me are between 1:00 am and 9:00 am and between 1:00 pm and 3:00 pm.

I know, those hours totally suck, so seriously don’t feel bad about bugging me any other time I’m on. I miss you all more than you can imagine and will do my best to return your calls, messages, and emails as quickly as I can.