Gifts

I visit an elementary school in Lanzhou once a week so the children can practice their English with me. I enjoy observing the children; they are always so happy and so eager to learn.

They are excited to get to know a foreigner. They ask me questions about myself and about America, and they teach me Chinese words and characters.

Sometimes they try to bring me gifts like their own stuffed animals or candy. I was even brought some live crabs in a jar. I can’t accept anything from them but am always touched by their sweetness.

Last week, though, one girl gave me a small origami box that she had made herself and filled with flower petals. And this week, a different girl gave me a card she had written: “Dear Caiti: I’m Wendy, it’s so good to have you to be my English teacher, you look so lovely and you’re so kind to us, I like English and I like you.”

I’m not one to cry, but if I were, this would be an occasion.

It’s little things like this that make me love living in China.

Chinglish

I am fluent in Chinglish. So are most of the international students here at Lanzhou University. We are all studying Chinese at various levels, so our vocabularies are quite different. Almost everyone knows some English, so if there is ever confusion during a conversation in Chinese, English words are substituted.

It's actually a great system. If someone doesn't know English, someone else is able to translate from Chinese to English to Russian for example. Everyone is at least bilingual, but many of the students know three, four, five, or more languages. The students from Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan especially impress me.

Chinglish also comes in handy with the Korean students. The Korean language has hundreds of cognates and near-cognates from English.

I am at the bottom of the totem pole as I only speak English and am just beginning to learn Chinese. As I mentioned in my last post, everyone likes me since I'm an American. Otherwise, I don't think I'd have many friends; it takes a lot of effort from both sides when I talk to some of my close friends here.

On the other hand, I surprise myself with how quickly I am learning Chinese. At first, I would study words for hours but not remember them the next day. Now I am often able to hear a new word once and be able to use it in conversation later.

As for the Chinese characters, it's awesome to walk down the street and recognize some characters and have an idea of what signs say. Before I came to China, the characters were just illegible scribbles to me. My first few weeks here I continued to think of them the same way. Now even characters I don't know or have never seen hold some sort of meaning because I can break the character down and recognize different strokes and their meanings.

While my Chinese is improving rapidly, my English is going down the drain. I am not speaking English regularly, and when I do speak it, I use hardly any of my vocabulary. I know I am forgetting many words and I often forget how to spell words. For example, I was studying with a Korean friend; he teaches me Chinese and I teach him English. He was saying that Korea's economy is "12" in the world. To correct him, I wrote "12th" but also wanted to spell it out... Only, I couldn't remember how it was spelled.

It's a joke now, so whenever I forget something in English someone says, "t-w-e-l-f-t-h."

Running

I found a place to run in China!

I was at a loss because it would be simply impossible to run on the streets. The parks here are small, crowded, and have hair-pin turns in the paths. I had given up on finding a place to run in China.

And then I found it, right in front of my face. Next to Zhuan Jia Lou where I live is a stadium. It literally shares a wall with my building. I did not know that it existed, and neither did anyone else in Zhuan Jia Lou. That sounds strange, but it's so crowded in China that the stadium wall was not obvious. Also, there are several abandoned buildings nearby, so it's a little sketchy to go exploring.

Anyway, it's strange to call it a stadium. Sure, it is outside, there are lights, bleachers, etc. But you walk in and it's just a large field of dust. There's not really a track, just a concrete oval as a guide for where to run. Also, few people use the stadium. It's a little creepy to run there, especially in the early mornings. There is some construction on the other side of the stadium, too, so the workers live under the bleachers.

I don't think that many Chinese people run. The ones who do always sprint past me but then walk after half a lap. They repeat this: sprint, walk for a while, sprint, walk, etc. And their "workouts" last only about 10 or 15 minutes. I don't claim to be knowledgeable about health and running, but this doesn't seem to be an effective way to accomplish anything, from speed to endurance or even weight loss. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Anyway, I always wear a facemask when I run. I could breathe in and swallow a significant amount of dust. With every step, I kick up a large cloud. When I'm finished running, I take off my shoes and socks, and there is a line on my ankle. I wipe my finger across my calf and my finger has a layer of dust on it.

It is a little difficult to breathe with the mask on. But between the higher elevation, the pollution, and the mask, maybe I'll have an awesome cardiovascular system when I get back to the states.

Compasses

Compasses in China point south.

Seriously. The word "compass" in Chinese translates to "the needle pointing south."

Yeah, I just don't know...

Hotel

I went on a weekend trip to the near-by city of Tianshui with some friends from the U.S. and Canada. We enjoy going on trips; it's great to get away from classes and studying, and we all want to see as much of China as we can while we're here.

Train tickets are cheap, hotels are cheap, and food is cheap. We still like to get the best deals we can. In fact, during our trip to Tianshui, we stayed in a very strange "hotel" to save money.

For less than $3 per person, the five of us spent one night in an elementary school that had been turned into a hotel. What this means is that the desks were removed and beds were brought in. That's right- there were no bathrooms in the rooms. And the community bathroom in the building did not have a shower.

Furthermore, the lights in the hallways were turned off to save money on electricity. I don't even need to mention that this hotel was very dirty, do I?

The conditions may sound awful, but to my friends and I, the dirtier and stranger, the better. I sometimes compare it to camping: What fun is it to stay in a lodge when you could stay in a tent? It's the same for us in China. We could stay in nice hotels, but we might as well be back in America.

My Haircut

I got my hair cut in China last weekend. I was attempting to grow my hair out after it had been short for several years. As it had not been cut since December and was almost to my shoulders, I badly needed a trim.

I went with some friends to a hair salon. These friends are nearly fluent in Chinese, so we clearly explained to the young lady who was going to be cutting my hair that I was trying to grow it out and just wanted a trim. She repeated this information back to me and assured me that she would just cut the ends. I elaborated some more, just in case, saying that I did not want bangs or layers.

Although she understood, the hairdresser apparently knew that what I actually wanted, deep down inside, was a messy, short cut. I have had short hair for four years, but my hair has never been this short before. After "trimming" five inches, I also have bangs and layers.

Being the optimist that I am, I like how my new haircut looks on me. The hairdresser cut it very well and it will be easy to take care of and style. I will not complain except to say that I will probably be unable to grow out my hair for a few more years.

Before she started cutting, I knew what I was getting myself into. Most hairdressers in China only know three or four hairstyles. A short walk down the street in China proves this. Some friends and I have given the cuts our own names. "The blender" is the short choppy cut like mine, "the Cyclops" is bangs covering one eye, "the machete" is short hair all one length, and "the poodle" is a perm.

I'm sure you can guess how we came up with the names.

Popularity

Maybe you don't realize how lucky you are to be an American. I don't say that to insult you, but I know I didn't understand. Really, I still can't.

You've heard it all before about how rich Americans are compared to the rest of the world. You've heard about all the opportunities that Americans have. You've heard about the freedoms in America. Well, it's all true, but I don't want to write about any of that. There's so much more...

In China, I knew I would stand out because I'm a foreigner. But it's not just being Caucasian with blue eyes, light hair, and straight teeth from braces. Some of the other international students fall into those categories.

Simply because I'm an American, people think I'm awesome and want to hang out with me. I don't even have to try to make friends.

Upper-level Chinese language students want to study with me and help me learn Chinese. Sure, they want to improve their English, but because I'm from America, my English is "perfect." Most other international students can speak English, but they spent years and years of hard work studying it. Really, they're still learning. I just naturally speak it.

I had dinner with some Chinese students, and afterward I had to visit each of their dorm rooms so their roommates, floor mates, and everyone around would know that they were super-cool to have an American friend.

On the street, people I don't know say "hello" (in English) to me. In America, strangers may greet each other, especially in small towns. But in China, this is very odd; my friends always ask if I know who said hi to me. It is also unusual that strangers in China give up their seat on the bus for me. People I don't know tell me I'm pretty, or talk to my guy friends about me. It's different in China; they don't have romantic intentions. But I always think, "Just because you've only seen, like, three Caucasian girls in your lifetime..."

A friend told me that my roommate is totally thrilled to be living with an American. I have done nothing to earn her adoration. I always feel guilty about little things- she cleans the room while I'm asleep because she doesn't want me to help, for example. She has made my bed for me in the morning while I'm taking a shower. She offers me everything she has. She would do anything to help me.

I can't stand myself sometimes. Everyone thinks I'm someone I'm not. And I didn't do anything to earn any of this.