tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80653853638576585452024-03-06T12:52:40.025+08:00In the Home CountryReflections of a Chinese American living in Shenyang, ChinaXiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-1800046218283272432010-07-02T18:52:00.009+08:002010-07-03T00:30:42.605+08:00Chinglish<div align="left"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 394px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489331461332737106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Wp06RH8I6hnsxJ0r8uosdQR-1Gpu-sKSH6MatJ5EM5Ghs4Ju6llCgmqYY7qD1YvXjnt3BWBSNDyTrVK0UBXyZCN2lCNOr441QdMfbbBvwePCQ00NcU1C_1XiW4LNmHKq4yDy9OW3Y_S8/s400/IMG_5057.JPG" />For many younger Chinese, learning to speak English is an important personal goal, because it opens doors to jobs in multinational companies and is thus often linked with one's status in Chinese society. Today, many parents regard it as a vital life skill for their children; there are English classes for British English, American English, and even English classes for parents to enroll their babies and toddlers. Many Chinese spend their educational careers studying English. However, English is drastically different from Chinese, and there are few opportunities for Chinese to interact with those who are truly fluent in English. Therefore, due to both the importance of English and the lack of fluent speakers, the improper use of the English language and grammer runs rampant across the country. Fine specimens of Chinglish are exemplified across the country, on street signs, public reminders, and restaurant and shop fronts throughout giving those of us who know English a good laugh or an insight to the Chinese culture or language. Below are a few examples from my travels: </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489331483303438882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIfGitkYDMNnkLj-iI6bGxslfpj9lYVhoXHd9l8C_ECi8xSHSECegsHQsJF6CuX9DK3vRQgBSNTNq82k6_hHURiKn0XlHgkPSvY9xKXvHEYqVyeXiD1gOsUg-uxXiWrPKppRGqmL5n2WhW/s400/IMG_7028.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489331475754856050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpaWAtu36uj2pcDZNIyjuVFWUqoZ_OR_171FwBUr2IC_Fb3h2skkIgXgNA_C2kPUiR6I_uTnXjJCRvAh-UokvnPlaPCiYg8wyiq-OSUuStD3VfFGI9MI-9GxLJ-MzgnX5f4eZB75-MD83/s400/IMG_7027.JPG" /> <div align="center">Emeishan, Sichuan</div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 719px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 413px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489342468901645426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgMkw68EKA-mvRGnuARy_K7fTCEqCgZUPUMLlD9IA4DfhPqKfQDCr28E4I6CXxyUVCVbIi2ZlAYIPnk3EUV4q0Ain6HBvekrUHcAZ_JzqdeyeBoOHtrzlDUBeI7rUS1IWHccPpPFeO64F/s400/Picture+182.jpg" /> <div align="center"></div><div align="center">Shenyang, Liaoning</div><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 431px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489321673919593058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-542PpJqMnTsH7HnQKpjY99wp2lyZIvv198PXsFyMCgGlVGs4plRKifSSMPxSu0BmDWEPp8sE-dWRx_9vRBol0umvRGjZpacALcXNjzsgUIRpBWeMIqQdU56NAG4hfI0KGzIT86Fx1pa/s400/IMG_3993.JPG" /></div><div align="center">Bird Park, Anshan, Liaoning</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 605px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 321px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489331451483320114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxCB538yHswTyjatbCoiGMAR3EaljCA6GxorGxuKmmzwCmsBA4pPp3tUJpjwiQjH-Lo_Ps-q_hZgmY9Pu1o5RejTo7DvQLOXPo4qwAENvMWm-aHXa6NIfXDBEjVzqtmB3omzekMBuA3tJ/s400/IMG_4144.JPG" /></div><div align="center">Aquarium, Shanghai</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 507px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 253px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489329652726832322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3C4Fj2UG31Uwkb-zGjiPlePS7u6fwVl2buR09M-ebM-mmXCb7xH8_mJyqrN9hvQf4dC3fkH_AU9UlMRnkppDcLN4Dqiqc266ZHAtI5Y2eiplEHwm3GvISuIXAdKjZe0TYjSohGia2yZ_b/s400/IMG_3992.JPG" /></div><div align="center">Bird Park, Anshan, Liaoning</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 473px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 394px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489331492689124786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjff4X8A1Al-A5jQvbsHZEKg418Lg_giZ8m7_zRREpP_pvG5j6EEH-LLKL3tj5habqDG6j_LJ2o9nA_AqoaAKGYO8i09iqrzV78xtna2p76VXm246GjgbHavV4eKt2FNMVTg16JcLArUU3B/s400/IMG_4338.JPG" /> <p align="center">Terracotta Warriors, Xi'an, Shaanxi</p><p align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 357px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 366px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489342480110250674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1rTLNtpwBk1jlFR6Eq2yElhAymx5-NyCGs2h9v71X78fwmhBZp48S-nKB7nJ48tvVxhdOaT9R9_frax7Rozukt3aZrAT9o2NOfLGkI0KnQ9MHPJR2BkgAqX_G3jIy1oYq1kJvSD4AXSb/s400/Picture+183.jpg" /></p><p align="center">Ok, well the last one doesn't qualify as Chinglish...its just ironic because well, its Shenyang. ;)</p>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-16527185937597055252009-11-21T11:00:00.002+08:002009-11-21T11:38:39.901+08:00Going Home in a FloodA while back, after a major rainstorm, I made the mistake of missing the work shuttle. And thus began the epic journey of my way home from work.<br /><br />It began with the lack of an umbrella, and waving desperately at any taxi that passed by without any luck for 15 minutes while being soaked by the rain. Finally, an approaching taxi began to slow down. Regardless of the fact that there was already a passenger in the front seat, I gladly jumped in the back and told the driver my destination. <br /><br />"I just have to take him home, and then I can take you," the taxi driver said. <br /><br />Sure, fine I thought... anything would be better than waiting in the pouring rain. So we continued, in the opposite direction from where I live, slowly in the pouring rain.<br /><br />Now, I have to explain to you that Shenyang has a terrible drainage system and is not in any way prepared for heavy rains. In fact, a major downpour causes many more traffic issues than a snowstorm, including traffic jams, flooding of roads, and even people drowning. <br /><br />30 minutes later, I found ourselves approaching some smaller roads where the water level was at least 2 feet high. Before me, people were wading with their bicycles with their pant legs pulled up in a road that had become a shallow river. Just before the river got really deep, the taxi came to a stop, and the passenger in front paid and got out.<br /> <br />To my dismay, however, the driver continue down the flooded street, our taxi transforming into a little boat in the middle of a river. <br /><br />As the water level approached the bottom of the car window, the ignition went off and the driver had to restart the car. But he was determined and we continued slowly forward. <br /><br />Suddenly, I heard a loud "TWaaacckkk" and the car came to a stop. The driver got out, and when I looked behind me, I saw the the bumper of the car floating away and the driver going after it. <br /><br /><br />A few minutes later, he returned, bumper in hand, and tried to fit it in the trunk. The trunk was one of those trunks that you can reach through the rear seat. After trying several times without success, he asked me to help. I looked at him in disbelief when he asked me to hold on to the bumper as he continued to drive, but at that moment, I was farther away from home than when I began, and sitting in a taxi whose bumper just fell off, in the middle of a flood, so I found that I had no other choice.<br /><br />So I agreed. And slowly, we continued on, eventually making it to higher ground, where he made a few phone calls, stopped in front of an apartment building, and left his car bumper at the front door. Then we continued on towards my apartment, where I found myself, after a cold, wet, and adventurous 2 hour journey, promising myself to never again to miss the work shuttle during a rainstorm.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-77267034723116835672008-11-22T15:31:00.010+08:002008-11-22T17:57:16.451+08:00Inner Mongolia9/14/08<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div>For Alain's birthday, we crossed the border of Liaoning province into Inner Mongolia to spend the weekend in a small village called "Da Qing Gou", or Big Green Valley in Chinese. Inner Mongolia, not to be confused with the nation of Monglia, is an autonomous region in the northeast of China (see map below for the section of Northeast China), and approximately 200 kilometers by car. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271400311378071186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhe1s1N_2lfQwsLTPnIre57fNH-gD5U8UcQGs_xWEhgJRFvwD-Z0kcrE-QFwxcXw6BT7NeDP_Io257dC_Y4iC3-FSlfu9YGV349a7Zba2Q0O1Oi1wuH_98h5BqlnppV-bK-kBUbm2w3hmE/s400/neimenggu.gif" border="0" /></div>map from chinatravelguide.com<br /><br /><div>Upon our arrival in Da Qing Gou, our shuttle bus pulled up to a tourist driven Mongolian-style yurt park, where we were given tours of several yurts. Yurts, are a tradition form of housing for many Asian cultures, that look a bit like a round tent-like hut. We were told that the small yurts could house 4-8 people, the medium sized yurts up to 12, and the large yurts up to 20 people. </div><br /><div>Even though there were only eight of us, we chose the largest yurt, for the cost of 200 yuan per night (30 dollars), so that we would have plenty of space not to breathe on each other while sleeping. With the yurt, we were provided with some tables and small stools, blankets, pillows, a television (complete with Karaoke mikes, of course), and some small mats to sleep on. The owner of the yurt then took our order for dinner later that night, which included a whole lamb, that she later had her husband buy at the market, and the cook killed, cleaned, and cooked it for us. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271418083000358658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7d9Cfqz9b61kGgSEWM_z2eBF46tD77STS6l9Qb9tAoMJTOU7Bt9U9ozkBultJYJw4XZKUEVWI3MX36sTxYABgOsOOu0ZhsUVk2Qydhf_EhNZOR5UDidKtrsq0JhOzd2cayB7PY_qnvLzC/s400/IMG_6118.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>After settling in, we went horse back riding for a few hours, to get a view of the local terrain in the sunset. We rode 14 kilometers, through rolling grass plains and sand desserts. The view was spectacular. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271416738807178658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGb1zKmpwBLRJdJ7RPQEs6T6SAr2NdrvPcOOLTU-LIqHv7qGLUR5wdlTMcten_V6FKONWNl1Sk9_nV-XYeXuEcJAxSvpncsRikafqWmUzC1j_09vh3Tq0Yq3ic8AJDPABCQ73zndDOR9oR/s400/IMG_6073.JPG" border="0" /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271418070375279298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibiCosB3aMp4lHJ0tCkg26LaT865oZTS7GpkDyDNcn-8UI5ZqTjBMJrvsJSg22IAMuFFey9hMieygLZH1bssf6UvKHNQInhCEX9f3BsN1K-M7XU-ebG1q-xnzw0OjNhmjA9GuTh-DtU4lT/s400/IMG_6064.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271416753569393106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM5FaNKMM8_1wgbbnCmNQhaGrp2IsEhPlHxatFkY8AKeoCx7ctduSdvK8mJmGiwm5CdBR07Lk4o65CnoxGYfNADj-4ZZWlgkhxfnx44bWHERocoUiOGetMJNNNB7L4C9Wyv14bh6KcYAz0/s400/IMG_6071.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>We went to a local light show later that night, where local performers sang and danced in Mongolian, under a chilly clear night (that we don't often see in Shenyang). Towards the end of show, everyone from the benches got up, and danced around the fire in the middle of the stage. </div><br /><div>We finished the night eating and playing poker, before climbing into our own blankets in the early dawn hours. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271416736826734866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQD1Y7oRSu7nJ_VkVRkZHj6QomJGw_3NdnNl1zc0La8Vj3237d63YVIOf6tlteXxJyNZ3CU_x7cI9ZrBD8O9Prx3OBBTaVYKPhROcr_YAEqs59cTODtSNdz77YIm9LDn8aj9-ERY42pVx/s400/IMG_6139.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>The next day, we ate a quick breakfast (lunch), before going rafting in the freezing river that runs through the valley of Da Qing Gou. There, we bought shorts, slippers, water guns, pots and pans (for water fights, not for cooking) got into our rafts, and sprayed each other in a full out water war. After the first 5 minutes, we were all so cold that it hurt, so we stopped and floated peacefully down the river.<br /></div><div>On the way back later that afternoon, we stopped in the nearby city for dinner, where everything is bilingual. In Inner Monglia, the children are taught both Mongolian and Mandarin in school, and all the signs in the city can be seen in both these languages. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271418068731570226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKnnVwDNv_RkEYUGZLstF60QtqjGW375qSj4fgo3TjEzusz_34zmkjq0-Dqp2ejiWxUcJDqJ_JmH7oecUIrn8zX9vqJQQPtLcDZO-4SXjN0D3m1p5ythxGqR43MMZNwR0oKunTiS6UkTcw/s400/IMG_6149.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-20615272414006942342008-11-11T19:23:00.002+08:002008-11-11T19:47:39.326+08:00Paying the tab: a cultural reflectionA few weeks ago, I sat in a German pub eating dinner with a co-worker, when we started to discuss the cultural differences in splitting (or not) the tab at dinner, depending on the country we're in. In the US for example, when going out with friends, more often than not, if the server hasn't already split the bill, then each person at the table would check the receipt, and pay for exactly what he/she ordered. In contrast, in France, the bill would be split evenly between all the people eating. That is to say, if the bill is 40, and there are 4 people, each person would pay 10, regardless if one person ordered a 20 dollar meal and the others ordered meals worth much less. In the third scenario, in China, if one dines with friends, he/she should be prepared to have one person foot the bill, as it would be offensive to ask to split the bill. However, it is an unspoken rule that each person should take turns in paying the entire bill at subsequent dinners together. <br /><br />These practices have a direct correlation with the culture or governmental structure of each country. The American ideology, for example, emphasizes individualism. Each one for his own, and you pay for what you eat. The French practice is somewhere in between. It balences individualism with shared responsibility. It's sorta like the idea of paying more taxes and sharing the wealth. On the other hand, the Chinese practice puts an emphasis on reliance on each other, and the importance of building trust between friends and other relationships. It is important to remember which country one is in, so as not to affend those that you dine with.<br /><br />In China, this emphasis on trust and relationship building over time is reflected in the work place and in private life. For example, in many Chinese companies, people are promoted based on the years of experience with the company, rather than by performance and results. Loyalty to the company, as well as to friends and family is hard to earn, but highly valued. For me, it is something that I keep in mind daily as I work with my Chinese counterparts. It is difficult to develop relationships here, but at the same time, the friendships that one is able to form are truly worthwhile...<br /><br />So, the next time you come to China to visit a friend, don't worry if someone pays for the entire check. Just offer to do the same the second time around!Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-83931706697608794382008-07-02T19:09:00.001+08:002008-11-22T18:20:35.329+08:00Xi’an Part 2: Hua Shan<div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6W9XzfdIPyVOnkja5gG5YuZARpJzWKIEiS8fMI5G3b2PMz5oH0OMYfb5VDAOjhisJwV24O1Izi7acvV9Q7DlP-9nMlbl-VPt41yVUYVmyMySOlptsMpbRSNDUsSOnrcHg1VgiiUl4Lw5Z/s1600-h/IMG_4438.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271423178107660706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6W9XzfdIPyVOnkja5gG5YuZARpJzWKIEiS8fMI5G3b2PMz5oH0OMYfb5VDAOjhisJwV24O1Izi7acvV9Q7DlP-9nMlbl-VPt41yVUYVmyMySOlptsMpbRSNDUsSOnrcHg1VgiiUl4Lw5Z/s400/IMG_4438.JPG" border="0" /></a> Written April 08<br /><br />Hua Shan, known as one of China’s 5 greatest mountains, famous for its steep slopes and beautiful scenery, is located an hour outside of Xi’an by train. Unfortunately, the tickets that we bought were seatless, so we tried our usual tactic of going into the dining room, where you have to pay extra for the food, but more importantly, seating. So at 7 in the morning, Alain and I found ourselves in the dining room, being served a bland breakfast of Chinese congee (watery rice), man tou (steamed bread), a boiled egg and salted vegetables, that made me think of the military camps (in the movies), where you are served portions of crappy unflavored unidentifiable food and you are expected to eat it. We ate our bread from the bakery on Hui Ming Jie instead.<br /><br />Upon arrival in the city of Hua Shan, we boarded an overloaded bus that took us over dirt roads into the valley of the mountains. The majority of the people on the bus got off at the first stop, where you can take a cable-car halfway up the mountain. Only 4 of us chose the second stop, where you hike up the entire mountain.<br /><br />So, wondering if we’d made the right choice, we ventured up the hill, through the entrance, and began our hike up. Our goal: to climb up to the 5 peaks (South, North, Middle, East, and West peaks) and back down before sunset. I think it was better that we didn’t realize just how far we had to go.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271424056160661330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3G8GVxlt6J2aZu03IHUDW83Ln7_7TF_bhP-dvUgWhu85M1OSzV3D0P38hj_SwpFbVG1_bdD2H5rRC3I5wxuZnFkXSJ8ZQ5DYYu8eUOy0LUdDAXfeBXcTvO0UR4U-YoNU8GrcwCwzTwP70/s400/IMG_4374.JPG" border="0" /><br />The scenery was beautiful as the fog began to clear and the sun accompanied a beautiful blue sky. There were sections of steep and narrow steps where you had to hang on to the rails on each side. We climbed thousands of steps, before we reached our first peak, the South Peak, which is more than 2000 meters high. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271424565658053362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUgJPmEtzOFrgATGbx-Q85R5PlPKFG5YUguSG2Piv4a1BaEl5gm7T9iZzPXjo-LFevw4YxsNl97gHL6360Rw8A-NF_-Hl0-DM4HoDS6skwHmULoOXOBhpvWF6bZNo6eqFhFLPCbyh1ecvZ/s400/IMG_4418.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271423170949618722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGs9qrr6E5xCSV2Ld9Z95FymAbGDGVjHI87kWx4TKT-6tRgAIZmS1l7XMtVpPUFs5RP3Ax8ygyGQIQoalUZRSL8dyPdlRZz3kF47ubjYCI6RmpX82-zFlJjkZRO59NuOJVKgVfj7IVAYyL/s400/IMG_4449.JPG" border="0" />The view was indescribable. It was an incredible feel<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271424564856537026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimasRO3_bxPAN-oK-pg_jrUV_rlGXnWPnY00Ma-o0Sn9Oz-t8rOQ3yeebLDpC7CfbeOyVbn9mwUc1BtEgP2QhCaOEDzXZkPpKFhTd8dDW00J1QGX-BseR4x9wOdaW-0JLItTRPlo7zQkNz/s400/IMG_4421.JPG" border="0" />ing to look around, and see the mountains surrounding us and below us. It was 5 PM by the time we’d climbed all 5 peaks, and began our descent down.<br /><br />Since our train was at 7 o’clock, we were worried that we wouldn’t make it, so we literally ran down the mountain. The people that we passed surely thought we’d lost our minds, because as they climbed down backwards, step by step, while holding onto the chains, we jogged and hopped down them. We reached the bottom within an hour, and found ourselves on a train after a quick bite to eat. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271423180899161410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCqQ0ig1FmwW0d4V3cB6whhRkoBLth1W-sz1oCcac_pWC4of1DsqhppruwXov8c5ZNpToxDCzScA8prvrQ5HxDH8UKKr1jQVXLtG3es6UzMI7XMb3pMyEe4E2Ky3SKpeYMqRSt7Dtd2OM_/s400/IMG_4458.JPG" border="0" />Thoroughly exhausted, we were disappointed to find that we again didn’t have seats, and we had to walk 6 cars to the dining room, where we paid, were served cold food, and fell asleep. Suddenly someone was yelling at me to get up, and get out, because there were other paying customers who wanted to eat. Alain and I stood the remainder of the time, about 30 minutes, found a taxi after many tries, and rested our tired, sore, and limping legs.</div></div></div></div>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-68131447546924615972008-07-02T19:07:00.002+08:002008-11-22T18:11:42.941+08:00Xi’an Part 1: Terracotta Warriors, City Wall, and Chinese Muslim Street<div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisXCjQb9KzGqt0Gm7b6ai5-ha8hmeco6SPRrRck6D3jexqth-7GfaslFQIT8syAzrhx9n49aMka4QWffq2sIqfBLtnB7E9wsbi35qFa7YHPWdecSoNQT1ucRQcxJ_4XYezCgMW3kF6iUzO/s1600-h/IMG_4259.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271421440805640450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisXCjQb9KzGqt0Gm7b6ai5-ha8hmeco6SPRrRck6D3jexqth-7GfaslFQIT8syAzrhx9n49aMka4QWffq2sIqfBLtnB7E9wsbi35qFa7YHPWdecSoNQT1ucRQcxJ_4XYezCgMW3kF6iUzO/s400/IMG_4259.JPG" border="0" /></a>Xi'An Clock Tower </div><div>(Written April 08)<br /><br />Last weekend I went to Xi’an, one of China’s oldest capitals where emperors lived for dynasties before they moved to Beijing. On our agenda: the Muslim district (Hui Ming Jie), the Terracotta Warriors, the Ancient City Wall, the Big Goose Pagoda, and climbing one of the steepest mountains in China: Hua Shan.<br /><br />The Terracotta Warriors, sometimes known as the 8th Wonder of the World, is the main attraction for tourists going to Xi’an. There, protecting the tomb of the first Emperor for the last 2000 years, are more than 6000 life-sized warriors, each unique in face expressions, dress, and decoration.<br /><br />On Friday morning, we headed to the train station to take a bus to see the famed warriors. We went to our bus stop and got in the back of the line. Or at least that was the plan. In fact, we followed the line of people around loops and turns and under the city wall. There were literally hundreds of people waiting for the same bus, a side effect which we can only attribute to 1.3 billion people living in one country.<br /><br />We decided to get a taxi. We negotiated for 100 yuan (15 bucks), and we were on our way.<br /><br />The soldiers were well worth the trip. There are 3 large pits that are now protected by rooftops. As you walk into the first and largest pit, you see hundreds of warriors facing you, some smiling, others intent, but all-together breathtaking. The floors of the pits are built with bricks, that after 2000 years, are still sharp edged and in tact. Some sections of the pit have been damaged by fires and natural disaster, but the majority of it has withstood the test of time.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271420126749240306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJU_E4lRQN2ImTWabmYEG660DxjB4l3StoKIp1P0DNZdDBCpdvH02NVRzAVEozsEjXD9XLoexJkEomOa4QON1IMrJthuDEpdScM_vDlplPOT99P45hb4i6U5Us6biWi8ctcUYOgmQot7Y/s400/IMG_4304.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271420136712908114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CzQrNHAtfjoI5VPIJAZcy_eN85Qz2YIA6hY9Y41ToQbFXKD7kEOYDMomqCmGlQk3TdN_EVJ_uTOwxyr3B5RBKVpLJzHySXaFyE9jnkkmQMnDv5-kRFQ-ine71tszXDudM4NGvmv6yuC9/s400/IMG_4267.JPG" border="0" /><br />Back in Xi’an, we found our way to the south section of the City wall, where we rented bicycles and rode along the top of the city wall at dusk, for about 14 kilometers. Xi’an is one of the only cities in China with its city walls in tact, still protecting all four sides of the original city.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271422168165347378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAQDgs07QqAsMXufM7Mbq92sVJVe3MnKOYhi9p1PCHnnim0Einndtbp4t1mnOItWEXTzpN4ha6VvvMvtakCKXIlgrGqXl03QBXDJQTC70QXOVaMPC_iqTnYs0FmmTRyE2xwJ6R5DuTsMC/s400/IMG_4358.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271422172134813762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBkiHWJNeqjN97rpAvt8BPGevUpNe5vQ45hEsHm3j83c9hwgICxRcOaSqVJWi_5tp7d0_jJWlqmQ_mNhZnR84IAsJiI8TUW3_Dkru0t9nr42x0vTVvDkSPCI35RDWzbxbJ62mznOfDCAE/s400/IMG_4346.JPG" border="0" /><br />We ended the night on Hui Ming Jie, the famed Chinese Muslim street of Xi’an for souvenirs and xiao chi, or street snacks. It was past 9:00 PM, and the street was packed with locals and tourists. There were stands selling sweet rice cakes, different breads filled with lamb and beef, noodles, soups, dried fruits, skewers of meats and vegetables, and different cakes. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271420147108779250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudDPbGsXamlQ8ybxWv-pJ6h-VB1RZBb2tjdpg6HPp6NwK-1B2kD7i-Pmq34WtutbdV_kY-muf5AFqa5-XuZtvB7W8rI1VOlbD8xzPNUN1iGvlJfpSWDf17DQrsotKA7vVNuSV1hSBp00y/s400/IMG_4253.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p>Walking on the street is quite dangerous, despite the fact that there are no cars on the road, because of the san lun che, or tricycles, that come flying by you almost silently, driven by people dressed in traditional Muslim attire. On a side street, we bought some knock-off polo shirts for 40 yuan (6 dollars), and browsed for replicas of the terracotta soldiers, before purchasing our breakfast for our hike in Hua Shan (Hua Mountain) the next morning, and finally retiring to our hotel room.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271420152838217666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL1ANMnaUP4mG0r4sniF3G5CKsJ_1-QtcYGDqRP2gf3uqkMOdn-Km6sJKUIKRjHvAwJI_AC2ZUs-Kb_Xk5scpnmu11aME3uFxf8S_W8AaP_SHcA1gzF7XNr1M_Ce_oVShrCJx_ucVFaGCN/s400/IMG_4257.JPG" border="0" /></p></div></div>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-45803022596321414652008-07-02T19:00:00.004+08:002008-07-02T19:06:43.879+08:00House Inspection(Written May 08)<br />Due to the upcoming Olympics and the recent Tibetan riots, security as been tightened around the country. The other night, I was cooking dinner in my apartment when the doorbell rang.<br /><br />Usually, the doorman downstairs calls me if it is someone they don’t know coming to visit me, to get my permission to let him/her up. If it is a friend that they recognize, they are allowed to come up without ringing.<br /><br />So I assumed incorrectly that the doorbell meant that a friend was waiting, as there was no call from downstairs. I opened the door, however, and there stood 2 men in uniform, asking me for my identification. I asked them to please wait outside, and I closed the door and locked it. I first called the person from our company who is responsible for expatriates and asked if this was normal procedure. She confirmed that it has happened more often lately due to the heightened security.<br /><br />Meanwhile, I heard the officers go next door. I opened my door up and saw that my Chinese neighbors were giving their ID numbers and personal information as if it were normal procedure. Then I called the management of my apartment to confirm that they were legit. My doorman confirmed called me to confirm. <div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218371238373725090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-AAgW0hqRwdOHMMMYS5GAtj5L7HAwoU7NqZ17vApKyOvDtHgyMPf0LRi0KMmaELk24geWWh3p451siB6sGuBwgyZdsJf-0dcMCnmKQ5O2btUebymOyhJpv8TI3LL9M5IzopuJvgZgVXp/s400/house.jpg" border="0" />(I didn't take a picture, but the green uniforms and face expressions are pretty representative...)<br /><br /><div>So in the end, after 5 minutes of stalling, I gave two strangers who knocked on my door my passport number, date of birth, address (obviously), and cell phone number, and I was left to finish my cooking with an uneasy feeling that I broke a number 1 rule: to not give your personal information to strangers, especially if they are the ones to solicit it, and especially if they come knocking on your door. Somehow, this tightened security makes me feel less safe than ever. </div></div>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-72194108921273772242008-05-13T18:48:00.007+08:002008-05-13T21:32:44.409+08:00Guilin, Yangshuo, LongjiGuilin, one of the most beautiful scenic areas of China, is known for its mountains and rivers. For the week of Labor Day, Alain and I hopped on a plane from Shenyang, and found ourselves in a humid and hot climate at a little airport in the city of Guilin. On our itinerary: Guilin, Yangshuo, and Longji.<br /><div><div></div><br /><div>The first night in Guilin, we took a walk in the park. The area in chinese is called "Lian Jiang Si Hu", meaning two rivers and four lakes. There, we came across traditional style towers that are now converted into tea houses, light and water shows, and many walkways along the river. </div><br /><div>Teahouses in Guilin</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199820305544647314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5QYm7nDeALxb5t5W99raC_N2Bu03zxvdyrc8FVdX7cjMFqBDGOLmZyhnV-x-KY9Ah0oNKRsSfFw-_IOJ6zJuKeHOG7vckHphDaFPn4XqBT-kXpl9fRpcUum99QBzp51K5YMRwt6h2aPzs/s400/IMG_4535.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>Fresh coconuts on the street</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199820309839614626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBJifbz1i6gLUEnsk1qSvxv2_-6fBMnK1MjkniB7KUMeVQ1bBwdG8o9MPVadU6V9xKfUj9-ZsghC0He6IqskgiBZlr7a2s0Ht-m9DZj22IjHXoUwnsa2m82z4t8oEldeI9oMvnpWEO8lH/s400/IMG_4509.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>The next morning, we took a 4 hour boat cruise down the Li River to travel from Guilin to Yangshuo. The section of the Li River is one of the most sections. We carried my miniature-sized Clemson umbrella up to the upper deck and braved the rain and fog, in hopes of seeing the mountains that were so famous. </div></div><br /><div>Fog on the Li River<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199826125225333474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvBxVRrqVh2iBn6x9wKy7NZ9J-TH2-D3hkxUOgGvGMq9JMWVTy0VZBpCLTX9vl_on8J6Ykgz46M_1r6RxGo2FbBw5cJvjjdiDnfpUmBfIUZEMu9CGkTysKUK_DPvhfNe2T0ltfq0vjGZs/s400/IMG_4675.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>After landing in Yangshuo, we walked through a fake market and came upon our guesthouse, that cost us only 60 yuan per night (9 USD!). The same night, we went to the famed light show, directed by Zhang Yimou (director of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and House of Flying Daggers). The view was amazing. We sat on a stage overlooking the river, with mountains in the background, where more than 600 actors put together a show about the local life in the region.<br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199820314134581938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE90dejIvSKB3PMF2Evr__w6bDmiGDyR_0A9z9xEGw_corGARaGnTQAuyDDPe9A9xu724UbZp-jYXY0-qbzMeyNMxorksEdPqSKgEfXGXMGWfs8s_7KQz_prxTXtOCgceCoeCo2LWGOp59/s400/IMG_4743.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>The next day, we rented bicycles for 20 yuan each, and rode into the small villages along the river. Along the way, we saw many water buffalo and rice fields. We ended the night by watching comorants fishing. The comorants lead the fishermen in their rafts, and swoop into the water to catch fish. </div><br /><div>Rafting on the Li River</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199820322724516562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jYkjP4Ex7PFQmAxT3mZc2xXpYdGCSmwpz6WE3tX1XiJpa7KOQyGZfIGcE4M7bPX7U5ZjkapSMINr8OQFSrC_H6aj4QLvBv-Omw_Al19v_JdEcl5g-2bdLOy8cEJCi0DhXj1erYLAWPht/s400/IMG_4777.JPG" border="0" /><br />A farmer and his water buffalo outside a small village. He told us that the buffalo cost him 5000 yuan.<br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199826129520300802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ozDKzsTaxODs3RDYOwrkAgrDXxfpqzSJH0yQ_y-bVhRHKz9OslLBxJrxVpcPrIi0DCiQWaQ1Bp9MfzZ4OCjzrikuTo-ESWF1lkieWQ9gYIFzhqt2zrte-3IjWskoVW5j-8if8WEmzPtv/s400/IMG_4808.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br />Village outside of Yangshuo<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199826133815268114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBqkfY1wHzQUivzLJr1ATTM920kqh4yV8UqV8qCeSNqNVDN5bIp5O9xuChepNpdwctNPOj_2uhFv9yyf7nmWT-u8_xzCGxWUZiSTiXB-WpAi6xPQNPbfJRV1zsQQ4LJgN_zkNqKZN1t0E/s400/IMG_4804.JPG" border="0" /> Fisherman and his comorants<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199831412330074946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rGtFRJhd0-jLtk1nq_25yAwtFCweN1yc3MzVUHhNdQYeV3sfGqXI9dC_B7OpnS568k3YrGCyf8c99y89iBzkMPa1wxEqzhMZqhQqFDfAyrv632-nynzHzfzs8REwYZf9xBnEgcH1QoNO/s400/IMG_4959.JPG" border="0" /><br />On our third day, we kayaked along the Li River, to make up for the rained out cruise. </p><p>View from the Kayak<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199826125225333490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_MtnmJGOYGYUxSiMQDmCLbhw6IQoISgo_EpnQNKsbLfXJar1HHOfaAO5b7jxHDsy4kZazYGS-3XGoMhdVzZGpewW1Nw5I8tlWOMCGUdyaMsp6qaHFgMEtMekYISnLFDj2_JJmx6VR5BCP/s400/IMG_4880.JPG" border="0" /><br />We wrapped up our visit in Yangshuo by shopping in the fake market, where I bought some jewelry, a watch, and art, and where Alain bought an entirely new wardrobe of fake polo shirts, a polo jacket, a timberland belt, and fake Levi's and Diesels (because we can't find european sizes in Shenyang). </p>Fake Market and Mulitudes of Lao Wai (foreigners)<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199820318429549250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nLdJHK5BRvBiwrEpEPs39YTbctQ0vEJXUscEMzSjTn1fUYf1MqvoW4UW2VXSYjCu7hGSoUtmC3LyoJ8mn_fU_E8cESfOZ-xLzWFrmAutMTv4F496NOcCPGBtbJQFXtbnjC7ihTqcJpGX/s400/IMG_4715.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>Early the next morning, we took a bus that took us north of Yangshuo and Guilin, into the Longji Rice Terrace and the Ping An minority village, where the Yao minorities live. The women of the village have the World's longest hair (seriously, according to the Guiness Book of World Records), because they only cut it once around 16 years old. After that, they put their hair on top of their heads. We were also told that it is custom for the girls to pinch the guys' butts that they are interested in. </p><p>Hong Yao Women</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199851130524930930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5884tciLiAHZsPRcfmghJlc0isQuT4DIF36lgAtA8aYEEhyphenhyphenIoA2TNz8e2aGh5thiYzGoiFATkZD7LxkyflnSiYgHhvidCSYNl1StzUHSTi3nIHp7fhyphenhyphenMAmzPeKjn6biKuQXqEp0WQxn9A/s400/IMG_4982.JPG" border="0" />After we hiked up the terrraces, we enjoyed a meal of bamboo steamed rice and chicken, before heading to the terrace.</p><p>Bamboo Lunch<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199826142405202722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi41a7WCEHxl0JmiHwzGCa6SQfs94np9kW_j9pdaHEGVHdzAf3dQWBRdSYRfB-hrVRIdhzCBQAVwV9-Ff4XTYchfQFIQ06wNfr8gig5YNfnjfONkh-3RpCrsAoLVhrkCUffoFLgw2mt8icY/s400/IMG_4983.JPG" border="0" /></p>Clouds coming in on the 9 Dragon 5 Tiger Terraces (We couldn't find the tigers, but there were 9 ridges that were name the 9 dragons.)<br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199851134819898242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfd_KLkolg5VGkiD7pIcMaD28ivezIpN_N6wnpANpOV5TaMTNkV6VDvcDq-GOJko6FuDgVVbzkNjeJHXRp9xZYR-Fg9GiYZHFfI6ZRrRaSW5wCDJQwggBddp9Mgp9goVuVZRCBugLJalN/s400/IMG_5028.JPG" border="0" />Ping An Village and the location of our hotel<br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199831416625042258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirDxPfNw1Ts2sKfEA07TaqIsGqDBLbR6bshp__Lbg9M9YXk2cq0QytHtatF-Rlkgfp6C0R6g-oQBGbeyHGzta9mtHJwAkOr843aJn-TZT7J4SDdQavFhzB8GnqS_RXuj9jN6xkbK4iog-u/s400/panoramique+longji.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>I'd always wanted to go to Guilin, because of a song I'd heard my parents play when I was young. The lyrics go something like this: </p><p>Wo xian qu Guilin, ya/Wo xian qu Guilin/Ke shi you le shi jian wo que mei you qian.</p><p>Which means: I want to go to Guilin, ya/ I want to go to Guilin/ But when I have time, I don't have money. </p><p>So I'm grateful to have taken this trip, as many Chinese do not have the opportunity to see it within their lifetime. </p>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-39292260438971074202008-03-21T19:03:00.003+08:002008-11-22T17:19:12.440+08:00Feng Huang Shan<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180392935489513298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVb4xzTjHGRb9JMx7OT26vPoABO3FS4hHZ3V-E6BOxq19xvj5ncUz4fNVmeVN4_sV16ErVNQVB1TaukUvSMlcAfOFTnCF_z3QZ-6Y8rEBHS91sAdgeN2ZEv3KGBHyzjaCCa7sBOKunVDKe/s400/FHS+008.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><div><div><div>Last weekend I went hiking with a few friends in some mountains called FengHuang Shan, or Phoenix Mountain. It was 2 and 1/2 hours by train from Shenyang, to the eastern border near North Korea. The original plan was to go to Benxi, but our new friends on the train advised against it, so we changed plans, extended our tickets, and headed to Phoenix City. </div><br /><div></div><div>The train is great for getting travel advice if you speak the language. Everyone has their opinion about where and when you should go and how you should get there. For the two hours that we were on the train, the man sitting across from me, who'd traveled all over the country as a salesperson, gave me travel advice, solicited or not. By the time we'd arrived at our destination, the people sitting around us had planned enough vacations for us to last all our remaining weekends, holidays and vacations in China. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180390805185734434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGNy-Rcmf-xPu749qlzLIxqE3etJ2I5UpSgXlueHWy0aH55A9xv-_C9sNgxpqHjoUMkF8EMf4LVHNaa0QW2qOzskvwzMXM8a6jKUNsAWJ_b9P0qEVaNDGaAp50_1IYrCxo1t3jDV9xHBr/s400/FHS+001.jpg" border="0" /> <div>FengCheng (Phoenix City) was a small city of 700,000 people (there are hundreds of cities in China with a population over 1 million). When we got off the train, we found a bus that would take us to the mountains. It was a rickety bus that cost each of us 1.5 yuan (30 US cents). There weren't any bus stops; the bus drove slowly and people simply waved it down if they wanted to hop on, and told the bus driver when they wanted to get off. Bicycles went faster than us. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180398347148306354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEqJITPtawu0EVnp1akXuP8hPEyAVwCYCQBEW5x6LZQYc8cmDxXQg9yEvlxYOyMQgPPMUR8nPQMKtQnZ4jNuUkD_HVCqViBxptBPj5qokmKBeB-KkskO0GT7VmWyWmotJ0DG1tiEteF2RZ/s400/FHS+007.jpg" border="0" />(This wasn't our bus - the bus is in the background. This could have been our ride up into the mountain though...)<br /><div></div><br /><div>The mountains were great. The spring winding down the mountain was still frozen, and we walked along it until we reached the major trail. Many parts of the climb were more like rocks with steps carved into them, and we climbed up vertically and sideways. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180397247636678562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFuiyN8y2cmj41Suc7EwejTIJANCUU7wm0sMVc5u9FWDm2Ax3L0FSNgo60vFT6xeWm5JQudhw9o-DjyLEvznnaQKMcNnRNfzszGH0Y9vTvDP_pp4-_NluWRw7-ek8Hx2H972eK8yPuF8gQ/s400/FHS+056.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180397243341711250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGBQtEskvToW8rEJ1HPuxjqIxuj0JTFNuzl7tL2PVbUPSPF1Y17R7BBILMLRzYrbiJDwLNGn2ILxxjdFzJmT-P2jYIr8x9ApWlFq3nwe_f65n8wBbRnU1J-P06tvLJArHl7psSInJcYrSp/s400/FHS+068.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180397234751776642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHE9ZM9JMm9MOOMHE-zAKVFiV1MnQYvm_YSKrjtL29-9lV6x1ZT1koYH6hWW0FVrcsnty440JhclRZxNHgA0i-FJDtP7mtyk2boN7IlQWHst9rk30VWLOlmMTuTUBy3zcOhrx0av4EAsx/s400/FHS+032.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180390813775669042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcMVqXpWEiROqe-5GUUWL2-QmLsZv1A5svlr11ULfd6SHur96bWb6-ySmnke7wt66UNJaWQmEAoJrHVjXIrEbUnuSYoWqE0b9lWgIAcLKGzAcAqSNjBg-5swiWBkV9FhpQ4GnZlxuMJXT/s400/FHS+035.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180390818070636354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbpDZngfRULkf8jNDIC5qSCH3Ai0mJNT8ywSeHkv8Q3vZHYHKk-p_8ZjPBnARaFEbabM4Rqtb66st0bP8bOtuXtnS2LIJ9OyklABmJEN1MwqhPFUFd5nONwGiM9A-MTyzm3oynZ2O0YQ1C/s400/FHS+051.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>In the evening after our hike, we warmed up at a local restaurant with "Sa Guo", a local dish which is a pot placed on top of fire, with broth, noodles, sour cabbage, pork blood, and pork. We also ordered eggplant, chicken, beef, and the local Yalu River Beer. The people in FengHuang Shan look different than in Shenyang; they appeared heartier, more traditional, and were definitely very interested in my "lao wai" (foreigner) friends. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180392948374415218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE-LUBzPhGIufRfomnv5xQs_RD1ZSprtPyvP_Rf0urTFgnVWOFkCylCXwY9Pku2Nr2aVimFb2SZzYlCGzvOVwzIQRGyiDu7VbcZumA0oYpzUv7xJImwOkvliB7KvVcKOABD5bCNnUg4Ip8/s400/FHS+091.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>We took the train back at the end of the evening. It was so crowded that many people were standing and all the seats were taken, so we walked to the end of the train cars and upgraded (2 USD / person) for the dining room, where we had the entire cabin to ourselves to play cards and drink coffee, until we were back home, at least for now, in Shenyang. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180392939784480610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2FVxZQu65FzllX-y0x0J0VY22ZcEg9Pd5QxC6hE1c16h4iw_VHWHZ0N8BUA8vzBmW2bVeCFbA2CW4jZcc-QTDKoiOJ1HLB9MyvRtLJopFzVNnzVQ1NroUjJ0zRTHiS17U5wXJ9bZrTx6/s400/FHS+084.jpg" border="0" /> <div> </div></div></div></div>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-15181051555952863092008-02-16T12:14:00.004+08:002008-02-16T12:20:43.524+08:00Quike<div>Ok, ok, I swear this is my last post of the day. There have been so many things I've been wanting to share!! When I was sick awhile back ago, co-workers and friends and plenty of medicine and fruit to offer me, to help me to recover. Here was one of them: </div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167427097498793746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dtFG9bjHFKeIr2bpSXZZnyldqxnb702GbZ_KjrkXD0DzCxP91S_wBGDV8oQ9wFDK9mABD5KSg5ZK2FYaC1j3IYqVYuEtHc5erkqDHyRYIKFsd2mIMuawoAZ-mgrx7Kn0N0X8-23jEzTd/s400/IMG_3850.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>Before I take any Chinese Medicine, I usually try to look up the components of the medicine online and label all the boxes, so I know what I'm taking. I guess its kind of immature that I find the name of this medicine funny... But I was taking quickies to make myself feel better. :) </div>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-79387163751375976982008-02-16T12:07:00.003+08:002008-02-16T12:13:51.315+08:00Red UnderwearApparently, according to Chinese tradition, if it is your zodiac year, meaning the year with the same zodiac symbol as the year you were born, you must wear something red everyday. Yes, every day of the year, all 365 days. The thought is that one's zodiac year is supposed to be one of ill fortune, and to ward off bad luck, you wear something red. Many people choose the form of red underwear.<br /><br />So this year, being my zodiac year, my aunt was adamant about taking me out to buy red underwear. Hence we undertook the mission of red underwear shopping the 3rd day after the new year. Red underwear is so popular around the new year, that many of the shops we went to were completely sold out of any red underwear, and all the red underwear was more expensive that the other colors.<br /><br />And guys, you may be laughing, but this rule applies to guys too. There isn't just red underwear for girls, guys are not exempt. In the end, my aunt and I were successful in our mission, and now I am adequately equipped to ward of any bad luck for the year. I wish all of you a year of luck and fortune, and let me know if you're looking for something red to wear. I'll have it shipped from China to you. :)Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-91558558543977002012008-02-16T11:46:00.007+08:002008-02-16T12:06:57.085+08:00Happy Rat Year!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167422076682024658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qLK4lidtfO0a53FqGp8nole5rJROTpiFm7w_Ua2oKINz1LZEkBu4hFi2JiZ4Dib5jn_7S8ctTRi8dnR_Q7VseBsM_BAy1CED0-6J7Fap3b8CtpkNPO_oeNSUNq4NeNMR6Z0n6JpBpZIS/s400/IMG_3916.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>Chinese New Year was February 7. I went to Shanghai for a week to see my family, and it was really the first time since I left for the US that I started to get to know my extended family better, and my first time in 20 years to see a Chinese New Year.<br /><div><div><br /><div>Chinese New Years is the equivalent of Christmas for westerners. It is firecrackers, fireworks, food and family. Most Chinese people don't use this time to go on vacation. Rather, they stay at home with their families and share some of the most amazing food I've ever eaten. It is the busiest time of the year for all the restaurants, stores, fruit and flower shops, etc.</div><br /><div></div><div>For New Years Eve, I went to a restaurant with my Dad's side of the family, where they'd booked a table 3 months in advance. For the next 6 days after, I did nothing but eat - breakfast, lunch, dinner, and whatever else was forced upon me by my family. My uncle on the fouth day after the new year, prepared maybe 30 dishes for 8 people, and we simply sat and ate all day. </div><div> </div><div>By tradition, on New Year's Eve, you eat "nian fan" or dinner for the new year. You spend the first few days visiting your family. On the fourth day after New Year, people go out and visit friends and neighbors, or walk the streets. Here are some pictures of "Qi Bao Lao Jie" or Seven Treasure old street, an old traditional street in Shanghai where they sell Shanghainese delicacies and treats, on the fourth day after the New Year. Enjoy!</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167421561285949122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8912X8-lJFG70e58scqRDMfJlR4P0GrNFSeM-cYkU6TJQG8oFgiEDTXIuKIpt246-U0ALv6oOUy03aeLxbROLJEUgZO4wOS_fxR4Tu5RRZHeKBx3w-W64_QiY_Kr-BoVTBuiOmC91nGgg/s400/IMG_3906.JPG" border="0" /><br /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167422488998885090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5GvHLceSEEt5b81fAlOyQjG1tXwXjc43Y4J7gX4deKVQPzB1yQTpoTXIJdZ0I3xKl2m-iM3RYZQz2vWXoHuIagM-j0u8DKU77TN4ikRygKXto6cMuWeyvNfrw_Mv1LNZNFe_H-X1MBJT/s400/IMG_3921.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167422501883786994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghEqj601l6ErFoR7BQQ97TNfYlsfEKgMA3zcjFTfsMwGZWzzZONsJomqdS0RjOl_lzUMeVyc6dyoZXa43_ExuYZ1QC2LjHrtH-lRxTNSAS4-y12zqVrXXAvdCCcbqRv680IRP4BwfS8f8J/s400/IMG_3926.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167423214848358146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Xin96X4vLguLHxZ21oRN-8M2V_p4I7WDcjfA0ExXYm9MsaRC5_THB6vKF_yRjA-DGr5KyVFoJhFcvythMBUpbsZ3wrQL1dQghg95xhwMtbZzuUOoTtDdpZTPecSanHYnRmlJasxHcwtZ/s400/IMG_3917.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div></div><div> </div></div></div></div>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-57747515209961531092008-01-16T20:08:00.000+08:002008-01-16T20:46:22.917+08:00Wall Street Journal and Election '08I try to keep up with the news in the US by reading what sources I can online. One of the articles I read today about the elections regarding race bothered me... <a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120044560487392853.html?mod=googlenews_wsj">http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120044560487392853.html?mod=googlenews_wsj</a>. I mean, I know that its just a commentary, but I think that the stance that the writer takes is a bit extreme. I think people are sensitive about race for a good reason, and the writer simply writes it off. <br /><br />I don't think there is anything wrong with what Hillary said, and I agree that people are making a big deal out of nothing, but when the author states that<br /><br /><em>"To be able to hold in one's mind the notion that Mrs. Clinton would attack King suggests a bone-deep hypersensitivity that overrides sequential reasoning. "We have to be very, very careful how we speak about that era," Rep. Clyburn explains.<br />But why so very, very careful? What effect does it have on anyone's life if that era is occasionally discussed in less than perfectly genuflective phraseology?...</em> <em>There is a willful frailty, a lack of self-confidence, in this kind of thinking. It suggests someone almost searching for things to claim injury about, donning the mantle of the noble victim in order to assuage a bruised ego."</em><br /><em></em><br />I agree with McWhorter that the reaction is a reflection of insecurity, but contrary to his suggestions, I believe that these insecurities are not unreasonable. or unfounded Racism is a sensitive topic because of the history behind it, and because people continue to experience racism and other forms of discrimination on a daily basis. It is because of racist and discriminatory experiences that minorities encounter in nearly every aspect of life that they develop a sensitivity to this issue. I don't think people "don the mantle of noble victim" if they haven't been discriminated against in their personal lives. People only become sensitive to such issues (and in some cases, hypersenstive) only when they have been impacted by discrimination, and such a reaction shouldn't be so easily written off. It is unrealistic to believe that racism is a resolved issue when the civil rights movement only occurred less than 50 years ago, and such a reaction is only an indicator that much more progress is to be made in this arena.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-2264435723826864622008-01-16T19:42:00.000+08:002008-01-16T20:08:06.728+08:00Girls' Locker RoomI went to work out a couple of weeks ago, and I've been wanting to write about it ever since. I went to Bally Fitness (not very Chinese, I know), but the rest of the experience was! Since the gym was members only, I waited for the tour guide to come out to give me a tour of the gym. The membership fee is 5000 RMB / year, which is about 700 dollars, which is more than an average american would pay at a normal gym in the US. The gym is 3 floors: the first floor is the pool, the second floor is the locker room, offices, and juice bar, and the third floor is the workout area. <br /><br />But what I really wanted to write about was the girls locker room. You have to go through the locker room to get to the rest of the gym, and my first walk through the locker room was a shock. I have never seen so many naked people in one place in my life. I guess the American culture is very conscious of nakedness, more so that other countries. Countries in Europe or Japan for example, are much more comfortable with the birthday suit, or at least that is my impression. But I never would have thought I would see so much nudity in a conservative culture like China. It makes sense though, there are public baths, and the genders are generally split up. The girls in the locker room were completely comfortable. I mean, drying their hair naked, putting on lotion naked, and simply just prancing around without any clothes. It didn't matter the body shape - tall, skinny, short, fata, everyone was just comfortable. I think in America, there are more self image issues - we are afraid of what others will think of our bodies, and no one ever thinks that their body is perfect, and it was strange yet nice to be in an atmosphere where everyone was comfortable whith who they were. I'm just not sure I can do the same as them...Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-80176868526426692532008-01-01T21:31:00.000+08:002008-01-16T21:39:08.976+08:00New YearsIn Chinese, we say "Xin nian kuai le, wan shi ru yi", which means Happy New Year, and may 10,000 things go well. So, happy new year everyone, and I hope that you were able to spend it with the people you love, and may all your wishes and resolutions come true!<br /><br />It was my second New Year in Shanghai; I was there on vacation for 2007, but I wouldn't have guessed that I'd be in the same place at the same time in 2008. I missed and thought about my family and close friends that are halfway across the globe, but I was grateful for my Shanghainese family and some new and old friends that I have met here in China.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfd1-1lLnbHb5xrWF9peBIO4gqi6-MHt8NAGes7jv98QTnqPGjea0yoa6-iewF4_sj_utHdabcjbpyMDPBM_mj4pAqWJ5BY6r7uXu1nYTxR9GObBLVXdBcNkepOVnZory6yl8SZdI-JN6o/s1600-h/dec07+003.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150507651997688306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfd1-1lLnbHb5xrWF9peBIO4gqi6-MHt8NAGes7jv98QTnqPGjea0yoa6-iewF4_sj_utHdabcjbpyMDPBM_mj4pAqWJ5BY6r7uXu1nYTxR9GObBLVXdBcNkepOVnZory6yl8SZdI-JN6o/s320/dec07+003.JPG" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZSjO_uTUbBuhtwP45mNKCcPwaIopa66peydqWO67GoO_LFYxUs39My4aiPuJz2Gb_nKUGUX4aRKYMwdjqV73CMe4ue2LBSI6wtKfx_9CV0ul__KfpLnN-2LiNXHk6GimFIQynMkWYwsk/s1600-h/dec07+015.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150509975574995474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZSjO_uTUbBuhtwP45mNKCcPwaIopa66peydqWO67GoO_LFYxUs39My4aiPuJz2Gb_nKUGUX4aRKYMwdjqV73CMe4ue2LBSI6wtKfx_9CV0ul__KfpLnN-2LiNXHk6GimFIQynMkWYwsk/s320/dec07+015.JPG" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150508648430100994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3krYiI8zddrrjr6jKxnpWaCe0scOh2fSiZ-ARJPZ3wwsUDXW6AjmjbvZyvthzitmXwRLDjiyRwg3Tj8atZxEo4J0_lgT4wSBfY8AMiH3eg0YCVsXb8deJa9qrzPxvUNYNgiP-mEYFyPoD/s320/dec07+004.JPG" border="0" />Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-39320665279103654172007-12-25T22:43:00.000+08:002007-12-25T23:13:15.032+08:00Christmas in ChinaI was at work today, and I looked down on my computer, and the date was Dec. 25. It's the first Christmas that I've worked. Most of the other expats have gone back to their home country, and our shuttle that usually has 25 people is now down to 3. I got to my office at 8:00, and it felt so quiet, and I felt so alone, since the locals don't get to work until 8:30.<br /><br />It's strange here because even though most of the Chinese aren't religious, on Christmas Eve, everyone goes out to eat at the restaurants and to go shopping. Some of the Chinese interpretations of Christmas are very interesting, and for a mostly secular country, there are an amazing amount of christmas decorations, trees, and girls dressed in santa outfits with short skirts, despite the fact that it is -15 degrees Celsius outside. Each of the major hotels and restaurants have large Christmas trees, but instead of nativity scenes, which I have not seen here yet, there are often cartoon characters used as Christmas decorations. For example, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs seem to be a staple in Chinese Christmas decorations. Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck are also quite commonly found.<br /><br />Tonight, in the name of Christmas, the Chinese technicians in the shop that I work for invited the three expats that are remaining to go to dinner. After work, we took a shuttle with them to a restaurant called "Little Fat Lamb", where we ate an Inner Mongolian meal. Each person had a pot and a stove in front of them, with a broth, and a lot of raw vegetables and meats were ordered. To eat, you simply dipped the vegetables and meat in the boiling broth at ate it. I was really touched by the hospitality of the people, for the fact that they thought of the expats and wanted to be sure that we had a good holiday away from home and a warm welcome. We ate together, and during the meal, we played drinking games. After we were done eating, there was a TV and Karaoke machine in the room, and each person took turns singing. It was such a warm feeling to spend Christmas with all of them.<br /><br />However, there is nothing that could make me not miss my family and friends back in the US. I miss by parents, my brother, my dog Savannah, my boyfriend, and all of my friends. I feel so far away from home, and it is my first Christmas in my memory away from my parents. I called one of my friends tonight, and as soon as I heard her voice, I started crying unexpectedly, and not for any particular reason other than feeling homesick and missing my loved ones. Sometimes, you don't realize what you have until you don't have it. I always took Christmas with the family for granted, but this year, I envy those who are able to go home and spend it with those that they love. It is truly a blessing that none of us should take for granted.<br /><br />So here, I want to wish all my friends and family a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and know that I am thinking of all of you as this holiday passes for me in Shenyang, China.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-69956467248602625432007-12-17T00:22:00.000+08:002007-12-17T00:48:25.086+08:00Weekend in ShanghaiI went to Shanghai for the weekend to visit my family, and it was a weekend full of surprises. We'll start with the most dramatic one. On Friday nightin Shanghai, I went to a restauarant, and a western bar afterwards to meet some friends. It was 3 am when I took a taxi home from the bar. I got in a taxi and gave the driver directions to my grandfather's apartment. Upon our arrival, because the gas pipes were getting replaced, the taxi was only able to go so far into the neighborhood. So I got out somewhat close to the gate entrance. <br /><br />As I exited my taxi and closed the door, a guy came up from behind me and started to grab me. I screamed "What do you want?" in Shanghainese, and ran around to the other side of the taxi. He looked straight at me and started walking quickly away. He was dressed all in black. <br /><br />I stood shaking for a few seconds, with my heart pounding, and I started to run in the opposite direction that he went. I looked back to see him turn around and follow me. I ran around the building and to the front gate, where I found the security guard.<br /><br />Me: There's a guy following me<br />Guard: Where do you live?<br />Me: In here, in the fourth quarters.<br />Guard: Where is your apartment?<br />Me: I can't remember. I can't remember the number right now.<br />Guard: Ok, calm down, I'll walk you to your apartment. We usually don't have people follow others in here. Do you have valuables on you?<br />Me: No, no valuables<br />Guard: I saw a car come in after your taxi. They must have followed you from where you came from. They must have seen something on you that they must have wanted.<br />Me: I don't know what they wanted.<br />Guard: Ok, just calm down, and I'll walk you until you recognize your apartment.<br /><br />I was shaken to tears. I've heard that Chinese New Years is coming, and there are many poor people who don't have money for their families, and they are resorting to stealing. I just happened to be a victim, and easy one at that, because I was a lone girl coming from a Western bar in the middle of the night. I will be more careful now.<br /><br />Now, we'll go back to the beginning of my journey. To go catch my flight, I left my apartment and got into a taxi and asked for Tao Xian Airport. I was caught off-guard by his greeting:<br /><br />Me: Tao Xian Airport please.<br />Taxi driver: Do you want to take the highway?<br />Me: Yes, its quicker isn't it?<br />Taxi driver: Yes, but there are 15 yuan of tolls.<br />Me: No problem. I can pay it.<br />Taxi driver: How much in total are you willling to pay? 80 yuan?<br />Me: 80 yuan? Why aren't we using the meter?<br />Taxi driver: Well you have to help me pay for my way back because there aren't return customers.<br />Me: No way... (I start to get out of the taxi)<br />Taxi driver: Ok ok, we can negotiate<br />Me: 60<br />Taxi driver: That's too low, you have to pay me for my way back, and the 15 yuan of tolls. How about 70?<br />Me: 60. Let's go.<br />Taxi driver: 65. Just 5 more.<br />Me: Ok. Let's go.<br /><br />I didn't expect to negotiate, but it seems the norm here to go to the airport. We did go through several toll booths, although I'm not sure if it cost 15 yuan. The meter read 40 yuan, so I'm assuming I just paid 10 yuan extra, which isn't too bad. The way back was worse. <br /><br />I arrived at the Shenyang airport, and went straight to the line of taxis waiting there. As I exited out of the airport, I had guys start to follow me, soliciting me to follow them and they would give me a ride. I've heard that they are illegal taxis, who usually end up ripping you off, or even worse hurting you. I wave them off and ignore them. They continue to follow.<br /><br />I ask the first taxi in line to take me to my neighborhood. He says, 80 yuan. I say no, how about 60. He refuses. I go to the second taxi. Will you take me to my neighborhood? He shakes his head. The illegal drivers are still hasseling me. I walk to the third taxi, and I tell him my destination. He says that he can't go until the two taxi's in front of him go, because they are waiting in line.<br /><br />One of the illegal solicitors tells me, I'll take you home for 4o yuan. You shouldn't stand here, a lone girl like you, it doesn't look good. I turn and walk straight back to into the airport. They follow me.<br /><br />I get inside and call a co-worker. I ask him what I should do. He gives me directions to a bus that I can take near my house. It costs 10 yuan. It stops within a 10 minute walk from my apartments. I find the bus, the guys start to follow me again. I ask the bus driver if I am on the right bus. He says yes, and I sigh with relief.<br /><br />Sometimes, I feel so vulnerable and so alone here, more than I ever have in all my travels.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-87209311826152807422007-12-09T21:34:00.000+08:002007-12-09T22:07:20.044+08:00Curture Differences at WorkDuring my training class, I received a phone call from a plant engineer that I'd been working with on a project. He said that it was urgent for me to meet his manager as soon as possible. At 5pm, I met the manager, who confronted me regarding an email that I wrote to my manager regarding the status of a project. In the email, I stated that one of the shop technicians would contact central enginnering outside of the plant for more advice.<br /><br />The dialogue went something like this (in Chinese):<br />Manager: "It's not customary for someone from the shop to contact central engineering. That is the plant engineer's job."<br />Me: "I didn't contact central engineering. I just wrote an email saying someone else would. If you have a problem with that, you should talk to the shop technician."<br />Manager: "Well we will talk to him too, but you should know that we don't do that here."<br />Me: "Sorry, I still don't understand why we are having this conversation."<br />Manager: "Well you shouldn't have written the email. This may upset the foreigners [a.k.a his manager] because we are breaking the rules. Do you have any other questions?"<br /><br />I walked away frustrated for the following reasons:<br />1) He did not deal with root cause, that perhaps people don't understand this "rule", or that it is not well controlled or communicated.<br />2) He put the blame on the messenger of the situation (me), who was trying to improve communication between different parties, while he tried to hide something that was done "incorrectly".<br />3) Rather than spending his time on value added work, he wasted my time and his to deal with something that gives the company absolutely no gain.<br />4) The confucianist ideology prevented the engineer that I was working with to talk to me directly about something that he was not confortable with. Rather, he went through his manager to talk to me.<br />5) The bureaucratic and heirarchical way of working causes people to work through many different people, rather than going directly to the source (the most efficient way)<br />and finally, 6) I talked to the western manager of this manager and asked if this rule was true. He said, "No its not a problem for you to contact central engineering, as long as we don't duplicate work."<br /><br />From just this one instance, you can tell that in the culture, the concept of saving face is perhaps more important than moving forward with an issue at hand, and because of that, there is a strong lack of communication between the chinese and western managment. Also, the Chinese still operate in a very bureaucratic system, often leading to undefined relationships and roles and inefficiencies. <br /><br />Growing up in the Chinese culutre, I can parially understand the importance of saving face, but my American upbringing makes me believe that if projects, timelines, and investments are on the line, then you shouldn't spend time covering mistakes, but rather move forward. It seems that for the Chinese, if a mistake is made, it is personal and very shameful. In America, it is more often seen as a learning experience for someone to grow. The cultures between the west and east are drastically different, and both will have to adapt to accomplish the challenges to come.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-77841867621304774652007-12-09T21:29:00.000+08:002007-12-09T21:34:38.232+08:00Class Chinese Style (12/4/07)I had a training class yesterday and today conducted completely in Chinese. We had several different instructors, and the training style is drastically different from that of the US. For each lesson, the teachors turned the lights off, relied heavily on powerpoint, and with their back to the students began to read off of the screen.<br /><br />The students behaved likewise. The captivating teaching style encouraged them to put their heads on their desks and go to sleep. Snores were often heard from different corners of the classroom, some with their backs entirely to the projection screen. I have never seen students and teachers both with their backs to each other. <br /><br />There were 55 new hires being trained the the class, and the last training class was only a month ago. This is an indicator of turnover and expansion at our current factory, and such a high number of trainees would have never been seen in the US.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-15088856916074177732007-12-05T00:15:00.000+08:002007-12-05T00:17:49.966+08:0011/19/07The snow is coming down quickly. We’ve gotten 2-3 inches in the last 2 hours, and the Chinese here call this “zhong xue” or “middle snow”, meaning that this is an average snow storm. I think the South Carolinians would have classified this as a full out snow blizzard.<br /><br />Yesterday, I went to pick out a new table and four chairs, because the current one in my apartment is shaky. My mobility coordinator had given me a name and address, so I assumed I was going to a furniture store. When the taxi driver stopped and I looked around, he told me, “This is section 1, that is section 2, and farther down is section 3.” It was an entire street of stores that were 6-7 floors high that carried furniture. I found my way to the second floor of section 2 and came across an entire warehouse floor representing a flea market where individual sellers offered hundreds of different models, sizes, and colors of tables and chairs. Within minutes, my eyes blurred and my head hurt. How are people able to make a choice amidst all the chaos?<br /><br />Since we were already culture shocked, my friend and I headed from furniture street straight to San Hao street to buy a new laptop for him. San Hao is better characterized as male heaven: imagine hundreds of large and small Best Buys lined up for blocks. Once he picked the model that he wanted, buying the laptop required bargaining in several shops for the base price and trying to get extras like a mouse and laptop bag. After visiting a few shops and getting a feel for the price range, he handed over a stack of RMB bills, and we waited while the laptop was delivered from a random warehouse located outside the shop. When we got everything, we realized that the operating system was in Chinese, and we asked for English software. The saleswoman sent one of her guys across the street, where he bought a pirated copy of XP and installed it for us. We then asked for English drivers, so they walked us with the laptop across the street to another shop, where they downloaded all the drivers within minutes onto a CD for us. You know you’re in China when you buy a laptop from an official IBM dealer, and they give you get pirated operating system drivers.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-11382532257818859842007-12-02T06:06:00.000+08:002007-12-05T00:25:03.202+08:00City Pictures IZhong Jie, one of the busiest streets in Shenyang.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZqx5SxF333idl16bLCJlgirbCFi1uihz0blQh24Xn6jQP6ySXDmQzxaPtUv7SDrRjGgRh_QCdibZv1MxBhtOdMCV5jTNVWxhc6mQDJLRo0s_euDX38aNUeNuS-OyG-YcgdS1B9V5kL7w/s1600-r/shenyang+026.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139131723198299170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjo1yraTpYOSOfzI2KDSuf1tlzwWs9-ZCuDt-Na-oo5GFBqAsJO1SZ8AaqkPFUROr36wHabXK1OuSbC7X6Te9MSIRSe7N1ehMjYHy9-6mJw_SbkMxqcdsqu9A_lcsz4Hu68pRqZ2NZygpp/s400/shenyang+026.JPG" border="0" /></a> Street vendors on Zhong Jie.<br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139133475544955954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCButoH4AsNJPBP_hggMBrBRLOeOpfSqw-dhINOTYXWSZvqwM06fasebi4xIwsp0OHoQwDYT-uAEBg3FuY2_pFb-5yVIpEc2Ku-1IZjXiMImBBbRHaBEz7F0WKROrh2oHnq8wSWZF37I5k/s400/shenyang+027.JPG" border="0" /></div></div><br />Baked sweet potato vendor... very common in the winter.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139136164194483298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiaBRUhrtxkVImKyR8GQF_tehufh8Cxwtp7jEKxyEybTbY9lDqaUH_sv-lb82XoYp_pzH30QyHd46ubHPijjhhnW-kXuRuG-6lHpCpl_IgyEaFCMAPHtL21sHu4KJ95WhjJH86s32lYK23/s400/shenyang+034.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Construction work with old equipment on Zhong Jie.</p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139136924403694706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVifriBdnj6mWVH1etG2A96s46-mQb4KL6RCOAE2XTtKVpLh0krZPRO-22_zO8Cp_C-zc0YZPv2aEPB6r5kjC_RKnovA0T-RwcYejA-S2NcrXyVE7OSjRg4i3BYoiA-fnVG34pLCmLAShw/s400/shenyang+030.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Outside the Shenyang Forbidden City...</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139137834936761474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdhrbMlKFNWNYXoCzVkvh8w4n_jO8Y_YgOV4XLjE_DLnrGdX9JFZCUEAxBHAXORN_DD-kCQHWOy6IFUCWpXGMjylYSQ8fkkDnckFP7pVTk_LRQ-DqGHz5RswB0qbxpODxxvXF5O2ryabb/s400/shenyang+036.JPG" border="0" /> </p><p>Louis Vuitton just outside my apartment complex.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139138556491267218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhoQZjb_8mIrDhCf5NlMzVo9Uy5-9CSaLomc364RnyO_lhC3Jj6Q32Ttkv8icbToRVr22TfoEASQvpoAlqcIExX1kMmPrp8_la409EgaQhNxwE9Z6AiQCy35W9NqknBQCvpOXCJyo36h7R/s400/shenyang+023.JPG" border="0" /> </p>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-38229324396701868392007-11-14T23:11:00.000+08:002007-11-14T23:21:39.924+08:00SnowIt’s November 14, 2007 and I’m in Shenyang, China. I looked out of my window at work and its snowing. I’m the only one in the office that’s excited. No one else even glances out of the window. I smile and stare outside at the little snow flakes. It’s freezing in my office, but for now, I don’t mind because the snow is new and exciting for me.<br /><br />Yesterday, I complained about my TV and my wobbly dining room table to my mobility coordinator at work. In the evening, my landlord called me. My landlord is responsible for furnishing my apartment, and the fate of my comfort lies in his hands. He told me that he couldn’t afford a new TV, but that he and his wife could take me out around the city to make up for it. He wanted to take me out today to a comedy show by one of the most famous comedians in China: Zhao Ben San, who is from Shenyang. But at the end of the phone conversation, he asked that I not tell my mobility coordinator about our conversation.<br /><br />After thinking it through, I called him back today and told him that I couldn’t go. I’m confused by the interactions here. What does it mean for my landlord to call me and ask me not to tell my mobility coordinator? And there’s a very slim chance that he doesn't have the money for a TV, because he owns several flats in the nicest area in Shenyang, when most families cannot even afford one normal flat. Furthermore, he has his own car, property in Shanghai, and just had his second child, which you have to pay an arm and leg for in China because of the one-child policy. My conclusion: he’s trying to buy me out so he doesn’t have to buy a new TV. I don’t think an expat who doesn’t speak Chinese would have encountered something like this. However, I am a young girl who happens to speak Chinese who has the unfortunate luck of renting from a cheap landlord, and I’m stuck because I can’t switch landlords.<br /><br />The cool thing about living in my apartment is that I can have groceries delivered to me. No not just pizza, groceries! The cost of services is so low here. I can have nearly anything my heart desires brought to my door for free. I have a doorman downstairs that calls me to ask me if he can let strangers up. Sometimes he tells me, “theres’s a lao wai here wanting to see you.” “Lao wai” literally means old outsider. It's a common Chinese term for foreigners, which can be used in an endearing or hateful manner. Usually it's the prior and not the latter. I’m also not used to the lack of tipping. There is no tipping here: not for hairdressers, bartenders, taxi drivers, restaurant servers, people who bring you TVs, groceries, and everything else you can imagine.<br /><br />The public restrooms, a.k.a. holes in the ground, also take some getting used to. I seem to have a mental block that prevents me from adapting to this style of restroom. Me and these restrooms go way back. During previous visits to Shanghai or Beijing, I drastically reduced the amount of water I drank while in public places, and I successfully avoided the use of these dark, dank and smelly holes for weeks at a time. For the last two weeks, Project Dehydration has been in full effect. Unfortunately, I don’t think it is sustainable for 2 more years, particularly at work where I am for 10 hours a day. How I envy the opposite gender in this department. I will, however, keep you updated on PD’s progress.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-89052142488344024892007-11-10T12:34:00.000+08:002007-11-11T21:18:44.725+08:00I can't see my own blogI was overwhelmed by the response to the start of this blog. I received so many emails of support and shared sentiments that I am really encouraged. Thank you all for being here for me.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>The bad news is, while you can see my blog, I can't. I discovered this yesterday. At first I thought it was just my connection. But after further investigation I discovered that I simply can't get into anything with a *.blogspot.com page. I've heard about the Great Chinese Firewall; I just didn't expect to be impacted by it so soon. Here's a related article. <a href="http://www.danwei.org/net_nanny_follies/blogspot_blocked_again_after_1.php">http://www.danwei.org/net_nanny_follies/blogspot_blocked_again_after_1.php</a></div><br /><div>So now you are officially reading material that the Chinese are not allowed to read, unless they have a proxy server and know how to get around the system. Some other main websites that are blocked in China include myspace, youtube, wikipedia, various news sources and almost any page having to do with a proxy server. A proxy server is a server that allows you to disguise your IP address and go around the Chinese firewalls in many cases.</div><br /><div>Interestingly enough, to edit or create a blog, the web address is under blogger.com, which is a different server that is not yet blocked, so I am still able to add information. I just can't see the blog or any related comments once it is posted. So I will continue to post. </div><div> </div><div>Also, I found an article that is pretty relevant to the issues described in my previous posts. <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,3604,1461208,00.html#article_continue">http://www.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,3604,1461208,00.html#article_continue</a><br /></div><div>Lastly, I also wanted to share some pictures of my apartment with all of you. Enjoy and have a good weekend!</div><div> </div><div></div><div>From the entryway...</div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131415644240774290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenfyWFQPkxqaPxj-4lDqX5_D-U8ePNHydZBpEcDrsUBQPJrcdV0krRdK0ahKvLobJIOyRuadP29Jo43YJCpID4UK0KFD8NuaHIP86L4NVHqKW-HkP0nnsft-TgWpeom50AYOkFj21kOeB/s320/Shenyang+020.jpg" border="0" /><br />My living room...<br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131414141002220658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhsTCTxH9gOTFxm22bQy4thWZXIrr1pq_FQEPnOyMrLcp0nJKaILzx8JLCaBd6JXjZWpgAIdbIsv9HqJT6A6zpT5nUvPoqXgoTFbhBBZaIMDri0PHjL6ZXi2PF8jY2Hbp7oOTpn4_3wQH/s320/Shenyang+010.jpg" border="0" /><br />One of the bedrooms<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131416297075803298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQlM8X40ZNfTR4ocSIFFsDpV0YmG6bLB56F3l3TRVRL4cNW6KAMIuMrpceG-V_6L-fi1o8wmz7d84DrTZGDItalMmrsElggDAfES5PpN9Hg_Av1axO4Dh-roZ04BJtoM9L333ZOTjaInf/s320/Shenyang+015.jpg" border="0" /> The kitchen...<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131416902666192050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOJQ0RrmYgDrEXwScA6v2-ulC4x1v7TwbrRmtBflcNGcVHpMr2aHjgLPShHU0Huc3ObKQUSkcq0Rznfk3LzrUb0UI-1P_RFEREFFXXcLFSlpD8pl5MHmhbgoicMTdRR5s1n-X6I8_HlqE/s320/Shenyang+019.jpg" border="0" /><br />The balcony...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2WpR0qNs3vhIYPtIi_IcQsZzP4sk7VL3Oxg5UCWBFY4AI_yGrDAxzdrM71w9cZwvL4yXJYkvl5gCGLD6JPNqQsQ4zrqwx15w4lXLPJVvp7z4AppjWyeEFstwx4H5yZpdZXRhbi4y_xMu/s1600-h/Shenyang+020.jpg"></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131417491076711618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQe2nmGJXGZw8M0X6M1-Eise-PcqaGtRTagrfxHeCxPpCUca4rdDQxULthABZ5vo3GosXsnfa5VEEL3CcjQ4TNiFfq5t2BbSyZN3_AZLNUcCD0XsoJZD4M9dy39O891EE5c3YKunN_KFg/s320/Shenyang+017.jpg" border="0" /> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8065385363857658545.post-33265760134088997122007-11-03T02:39:00.001+08:002008-07-02T18:59:59.033+08:00Day 1Let's start with day -3, a few days before I left the states.<br /><br /><br />I had the fortune of acquiring a fever, sore thoat, and all other symptoms that come along with the season.<br /><br />Day -2, I went to the doctors and he gave me 2 shots which where PAINFUL! That's why I hated them so much when I was little - 1 for steroids and another for antibiotics. Then I got a z-pack. The shots in my bum ended up setting off the metal detector at the airport.<br /><br /><br />Day 0 - A 26 hour trip from Huntsville, AL to Atlanta, GA, to Seoul, Korea, to Shenyang China. Did not sleep a wink.<br /><br /><br />In Korea, I opened the card that Anna P. told me not to open until I was on the plane, and the card screamed, "Congratulations!" "Do more of the good stuff, give me the good stuff, yeah do more of it..." Hahaha. I'm going to miss my trusty co-workers. Count on them to embarass me and surprise me at the same time.<br /><br /><br />The Seoul airport is like a massive for story high-end shopping on that happens to have gates and terminals and planes on the side. I was overwhelmed in Seoul by the stores - Gucci, Fendi, LV, Prada, Hermes, and all the stores were packed with people. I went upstairs to the lounge area to take a nap.<br /><br /><br />A few new co-workers came to pick me up in Shenyang, including my boss, whose name is Chen Chao and has worked for Michelin for 10 years. He's an easy-going and driven guy. Two girls from the mobility group walked me up the stairs to my apartment, which is on the 12th floor. I have a 2 bedroom with a few of the city on a balcony. I pick one of the rooms as my bedroom - the smaller but quiter one. I tried to call home, but I found out later that my landline was down because the person that was supposed to arrange the phone connection had a baby on the day of my arrival. I tried to sleep but couldn't the first night, so I spent the night unpacking and reading, and thinking about my family and friends. I miss everyone so much. I guess its natural to feel alone when you're in a new place by yourself.<br /><br /><br />I walked around in the morning by myself. I waited outside for Sophie from the Mobility group to pick me up. While I'm waiting, I see someone walking a dog and a think of Savannah, then watch as Japanese women board a shuttle to take them on a regular day of golfing, and a near car accident, all within 10 minutes in front of my apartment. Sophie takes me around to show me the city, buy me medicine, feed me lunch, give my my new cell phone, and a cash advance on my salary. What a saint. We then went to work and I met the plant manager, the project managers, and the IE teams, and took a brief tour around the facility. My three week training program officially starts Monday.<br /><br /><br /><br />A few sights I saw:<br /><br />A flatbed truck with a bed of dead chickens with their feathers still in tact.<br /><br />Some ridiculously rich neighbors with nice cars.Xiaoyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548372470155608833noreply@blogger.com0