Little Adventures

This past week has been a series of much smaller adventures than the one before.

On Monday, we went to see the Terracotta Warriors. I forgot my good camera, but my American smartphone takes good pictures.

There are so many of them. And there are three main pits.

The warriors were actually found in pieces because there was a huge fire about a year after Emperor Qin died, and the roof collapsed.

Excavation is ongoing, but it has slowed. The Warriors were originally brightly painted, but the paint sticks to the dirt instead of the Terracotta. Archaeologists are not digging up more until they have a better way of preserving the paint.

I can't capture the scale. There are so many statues.

I would honestly love to be one of the people in charge of reassembling a statue. I love detail work like that, as well as the idea of recreating history.

This week I also had my second big Chinese-language test. I'm improving. I don't know that I will have earned as high a grade on this test as I did on the last one, but I think I did well. Now that I've built a foundation in the language (with few bad habits - an enormous benefit of learning from native speakers), I think I'm falling into a rhythm.

Last night, a few of us went out to dinner with my wonderful roommate, Sophie. She took us by bus to a Korean barbecue place. It was extremely nice and the price of entry included everything, even drinks. So many fresh vegetables. Dumpling bar. Soups. Fruit.

That silver "plate" in the middle is over a brick fire. That's how you cook the food. The mushrooms are my favorite part.

Having a roommate has helped me feel a little more connected to the culture here. We talk about music and holidays and learning languages and friends. We ended up being a nearly-perfect match, down to how we spend our little free time (watching TV on our computers), and our sleep schedules.

I cannot wait to go to KTV together.

The Silk Road trip is coming up quickly. I'm really excited about it. Active, outdoorsy adventures are my favorite. I won't be posting while I'm gone, but I'm sure I will have plenty to talk about when I return!

I Climbed a Mountain

Now, the title's a touch misleading, since I technically hiked. But it was a hike up about 5,000 feet, and there was a lot of incline, and there was some actual climbing, so I'm going to take it.

There were twelve of us who went out of the sixteen in the program, and two local students we play frisbee with guided the way.

Here's the town at the base of the mountain.

It was a cool and misty day for a hike. We felt like the Fellowship. There was a little bit of singing the Fellowship's theme.

A sample of some stairs we climbed. There were more. And steeper.

This moment was not among the most terror-inducing for those afraid of heights.

The whole trip wasn't stairs, however. Stairs and trails and inclines and slippery caves and bridges and ladders. The ladder was terrifying. It was built to be stairs but could not be climbed without use of the handrails, as the steps were vertical. It was in the cave, so I don't have a picture. Everything was wet. If one person fell, they would take everyone below them down with them the thirty or fifty feet to the bottom. That ladder also featured a ninety-degree turn that for me meant grabbing the second ladder and trying to scramble up onto it sideways.

I think those might be persimmons.

The Misty Mountains cold...

We were pretty high at this point and just kept on climbing. We got so high that the mountains looming over us in the town at the bottom looked like hills.

There were a couple of these bridges. Boy did they swing!

You had to lean pretty far to the side on these stairs.

The view as we descended into the cave.

Yep, I'm chilling on a little wall of rock before a pretty sheer drop. No big deal. Thanks for taking the picture, Mary!

Mid-Autumn Festivities

Ever since I was a little girl, I have loved the Mid-Autumn (sometimes called Moon) Festival. I loved the idea of families getting together, I loved stories about Chang'e, and I loved the idea of moon cakes.

Last year, my friend Luna invited me to her Mid-Autumn party, since we were all away from our families and had become one of our own. I decided that moon cakes were everything I dreamed that they would be, and I learned a bit about togetherness and Chinese culture.

This year, the trend continues. I get a deeper experience of the festival, but I'm further away from my loved ones than ever.

According to Chinese tradition, this harvest moon is the closest full moon to Earth. Chang'e, the once-mortal moon goddess, is closer to her long-lost husband on that day. It's also the most beautiful moon of the year, and it's a time to celebrate bounty.

Families gather together and eat and drink and talk and relax. They set places for those who have passed on or are far away. And for those who are parted from one another, they go outside to look at the sky and know that they're both looking at the same moon.

We were all away from home and our loved ones, so Shelby, Emily, Mary, and I (our makeshift family) went to dinner together.

We went to the Tang Dynasty All-Day Outdoor Mall because we wanted to do something nicer. And it was an excellent decision.

It was dark out, and the fountains and statues and trees were all lit up. People were everywhere, out celebrating in their small family groups or couples.

We went to a family-style place and poured each other tea and had a lovely meal.

After, we decided to walk around by the Pagoda before getting waffles at Maan Coffee.

Now is a great time to introduce the phenomenon of public dancing.

In China, every night, groups of people gather with stereos and dance together. Usually groups of strangers. Sometimes it works like a class, and sometimes it works like a little party. It might be the single thing I love most about China.

Now, I had yet to run into people dancing because I so rarely get out at night.

But there was a group of women doing traditional dance by the Pagoda.

I watched for maybe a second before joining in to follow along. My friends danced very little, but they got some pictures (which, like all pictures relevant to this post, will be uploaded separately). It was four or five songs before I willingly left the group. It was the perfect ending to the night.

Or so I thought.

As we came back around on our little walk, we encountered a dense crowd of people. We could hear music playing.

Shelby joked that if we got too close, they'd lose me again, but we couldn't resist going to investigate.

It turned out that inside the crowd was another, slightly smaller crowd doing some kind of social dance along the lines of the Cha-Cha slide. After observing for a moment, Emily pushed me in.

It was pretty fun, but when the song ended, everyone started milling around awkwardly. Another song was playing, but no one was dancing.

Well, almost no one.

There was a little group in the middle of the crowd that was still kind of grooving.

Once again, Emily pushed me in.

The people seemed happy to have someone new join the group, and the dancing picked up quickly. Soon, I was really getting into it, throwing in hip hop moves and some traditional Chinese gestures and some Bollywood and more complicated patterns and whatever else came to mind.

We had a little circle, all cheering each other on. Soon, guys were getting pushed into the center of the circle to dance. I didn't try to take the center, and even though I was getting a lot of attention, no one made me.

At one point, I noticed a guy who was kind of outside of the circle, behind me and to my left. I urged him to come join, but he got really really shy and refused until everyone started yelling at him. He came over and danced next to me for a minute before fleeing to the far side of the circle.

Toward the end of the song, one guy came into the middle and made eye contact with me and started showing off his moves. I showed off a little right back. Everyone was cheering and yelling and when the song ended, the others made it clear that he lost.

I had a dance battle with a complete stranger in China.

But that wasn't all.

Those guys getting pushed to the center had all been dancing pretty close to me, facing me. They weren't the center of the circle.

I was.

They were getting pushed into the middle to dance with me.

According to Emily, Mary, and Shelby, all seventy or so people in the crowd were watching me.

Do you see how everyone is facing the same exact point, center left? That was me.

My friends got me out quickly, and as soon as I left, the music stopped and everyone dispersed. Apparently, there were several guys hesitating on the periphery, watching me go.

I honestly cannot believe that it happened. It was like a scene from a movie.

We went and got our waffles with ice cream (they were so good I'm definitely going back), and then we turned in pretty soon after because we had a big hike the following day.

There are some pictures (and there's a little video) from both rounds of dancing. I'll upload them another time, since they were not taken on my camera.

Culture Shock

Last week, I got sick and struggled to stay caught up. My laoshi actually admonished me for doing my homework instead of resting, but I kept up with my work because I had my first-ever Chinese test on Friday. After the test, I felt wonderful. I suspected a couple of mistakes in the listening portion because I have a little trouble sometimes distinguishing between the second (rising) and fourth (falling) tones, when they're spoken quickly.

I got a middle-high A on the test, and I was thrilled. I also got a wonderful score on my oral test from Thursday.

But my laoshi told me that my recording was worse than it had been the week before (although I got an A on that as well), and that she expected a higher score from me on my tests. She said that I had to keep working very hard and improving.

I was shocked and took it kind of personally. I am naturally a perfectionist (to an unhealthy degree), and I hate disappointing my teachers. I wondered how I could possibly work harder because I already spend a great deal of time practicing my Chinese. Maybe too much.

Last night, I grew frustrated with myself and had to take a break from studying. I did some stretching and chatted with any friends in America who were awake.

Then, one of them suggested to me that this teaching style was part of Chinese culture.

I have not thought of myself as suffering from culture shock. I've had my moments of homesickness, but they have more to do with missing loved ones than missing American culture or food. I like being in Xi'an. It's a good city, as far as cities go. It isn't perfect, but it's interesting, and that's why it's beautiful. I like life to be a little grungy. I do feel a little disconnected from Chinese life, but getting a roommate tomorrow will help to bridge that gap.

But culture shock isn't just about homesickness and a disconnect with the culture.

There's an unsettled feeling that's sometimes barely perceptible. You might not notice it's there, but it makes it more difficult to go to class, to do your work, to learn effectively. It turns small injuries and sicknesses into worrisome problems, and it makes simple things like going to dinner feel like chores.

It's that kind of culture shock that made me excessively worried about my Chinese language practice. Especially because the harder I work, the more I crack the language barrier.

Combine that with the actual culture difference in teaching style (Chinese urging for perfection versus American praise), and I was way more worried about my learning than I needed to be.

The truth is, I'm learning quite well. I see more progress every day when I go out on the street. I catch phrases. I suddenly find myself able to read snippets of signs and graffiti.

I don't have to be so hard on myself.

And, in similar situations, you don't have to be so hard on yourselves, either.

Bargaining

It has been a full week, dear readers.

We had all of our classes this week, meaning (for everyone) the addition of the Silk Road class on Monday and (for the four of us who elected to take it) the literature class on Thursday. On top of that, I worked through another couple of lessons in Chinese class, got through a bout of sickness, and took my first big exam.

Gao Laoshi gave me some advice to help me get better. No cold water, only hot. No spicy food, no caffeine, no wasting energy, no white sugar.

I followed her advice and felt better the next day.

Today, after our respective tests (which I think went really well!), we went to the Muslim Quarter.

The Bell Tower marks the center of town. It was on the way.

We toured the Great Mosque, which was founded around 740 CE. It's lovely (although it was hot out!) and we were there for a nice time of day for the light.

 Arabic written as if it were Chinese.

The blue roof tiles were from Persian influence.

It's still amazing to me how architecture is an art here. Few buildings in the US take the time to be beautiful. Now, newer Chinese buildings tend toward the efficient, but there are exceptions. (See the last picture in this post!)

After the tour, we wandered off and tried the street foods of the surrounding Muslim Quarter area. I finally found a lot of the things I had heard about. Persimmon cakes, which have dough actually made from persimmons and were filled with something that I think might have been date. Rou jia mo, a sandwich that turned out to be lamb, as pork is not served in the Muslim Quarter.

We also saw this:

They hit the nut mixture with sledgehammers until it was flat, and then they folded it up and did it again. I'm told it's something like a Butterfinger. It's on my list of things to try.

This area had a lot of colors and food and crafts. Mary, Shelby, Emily, and I went off in search of prizes. It had been a long week, and we owed ourselves.

This was the main street. Food EVERYWHERE.

No comment.

We went down some of the side streets, which I unfortunately have no pictures of. I didn't really want to look touristy or tip my hand. Perhaps next time!

Each of us had a different technique. Emily, with the firm line, was by far the most effective and even got complimented by a vendor for being so stubborn about the price of that scarf. I did well enough for myself, considering that it was my first attempt. I just really wanted a qipao for the Mid-Autumn festival, which is coming up on Thursday. I paid less than half of his starting price, which was probably higher than normal because I'm an American. It's a smart tactic.

The best part of the experience was watching the merchants work. Their jobs really had little to do with what they were selling - it was the art of selling itself. How much "Come on, friend - I'll get a very good price for you!" and how much "That price is so low; you must be joking!" and how much "You're really twisting my arm, but I'll go lower." and how many times to say, "Bottom price!" before giving in.

The most effective thing is to start low, remain firm, and try to walk away. It isn't easy to do. So many of the merchants come across as beautifully genuine, and there's probably some truth in that.

Expect a lot of updates next week! We get our roommates on Tuesday, and Thursday is the Mid-Autumn Festival. I also have a few extra photos and reflections to share, here and there.

Until next time!

Bicycle Races

So maybe Shelby and Mary and I didn't race along the City Wall, but we certainly biked, and we will be racing soon enough. After class today, our whole group met to go to lunch and bike along the City Wall. We took the (sparkly new) subway and ate at a Sichuanese restaurant. I have had no problem finding spicy food here. Frequently, it's má lá, which means "numb and spicy," a flavor combination I grew fond of back in the US. Maybe taking a long bicycle ride immediately after lunch wasn't the best idea, but none of us seemed the worse for that logistical choice.

Getting our bikes!

Shelby, Mary, and I took a long time to get around the City Walls. How can you blame us when the individual sections are so long that you can't see from one corner to another and the scenery is so beautiful that you have to stop every few kilometers for photos?

I'm finally coming to understand that I'm in China. This city has more people than the states of Missouri and Kansas Combined. I'm just now able to catch fragments of conversation and writing. I'm having strangers ask me for pictures in beautiful places because I'm also part of their experience.

View of the Bell Tower from the South Wall.

That faint line in the distance is the TV Tower.

I wish I had a better way to show you the scale. That building in the distance along the wall is less than the halfway point. Sometimes the walls just seemed to go on forever. The entire set of four is 13 kilometers (about eight miles) long.

This picture kind of just... happened.

My trusty steed.

It was surreal to be somewhere so beautiful. The hard work of riding a bike (something I haven't done in over five years and somehow managed to do well at) felt strangely similar to my Chinese studies. I was getting philosophical up there in the quiet.

I haven't been here long, but I've worked hard. I'm adjusting. And now... it's really sinking in where I am and the opportunities I have. Little by little, I'm learning to see China.

And, even more slowly, I'm learning to see myself in China.

Productive Night

Just a short update - I just tested myself by reading the pinyin for my vocab and then writing the characters. I got every single one correct. I'm sure that I won't remember them in the morning, and I may not do well on my dictation tomorrow, but I'm learning. I'm really learning. It feels good.

Zhōngwén

My first week of Chinese classes has accelerated quickly.

I am the only person in our program this semester who speaks no Chinese at all. I didn't have to take the placement test on Monday - it was obvious that I would be in Level 1, Chinese 100. All by myself.

Having a class to myself is more useful than stressful, but it's definitely a bit of both. I can take up all of class time, I can set the pace (a little), and I get constant personal attention. Of course, I have to answer every question myself and be thoroughly engaged at all times, which is exhausting.

The way that class works is: I preview the upcoming material (I choose to spend a long time on it, and it has served me well so far), then we do dictation (which is stressful), drill, and then we cover some of the material from the current lesson. Mostly, I learn in the preview and then practice during the in-class drills. For homework, I go over previous lessons, listen to previous lessons, do my written homework, (often) record my oral homework, and then I study the new material.

Day 1, I learned basic pronunciation.

Day 2, I learned slightly more difficult pronunciation.

Day 3, (during my preview the night before) I learned thirty-five characters (looking up for myself how to write correctly), their pīnyīn spellings, and their meanings. Along with a few sentence structures.

The jump in difficulty was immense.

As a perfectionist, I felt that I should be able to learn all of the new material so that when (today) I had my dictation first thing in class, I could write down the complete (long) sentences she gave me, in characters.

As a worrywart, I felt that I wouldn't be able to remember anything.

There's a definite correlation between the two.

(Also please ignore how ugly my characters are. I had never written in characters before.)

I ended up somewhere in between. After several hours of study (and an episode of Welcome to Night Vale to calm me down), I slept to set the new knowledge in my mind. Sleep is when your brain consolidates new knowledge, and it's especially important in language study.

I woke up writing characters in my head.

When I quizzed myself, I remembered about eight of the new words easily, and with a little more work I got up to twelve. When I say "remembered," I mean that I could hear or read the pīnyīn and then write the character correctly, while knowing the English meaning. It's about the most difficult way of going about that combination of things to know.

Even though I was so worried about doing badly, my lăoshī was proud of me.

It feels good to struggle with something new and be imperfect. Improving through challenges feels vital and dynamic. Having room to get better is strangely liberating.

Although I have to carry on a conversation entirely in Chinese tomorrow, my load for tonight is a little lighter, which gives me time to work on what I have begun to learn.

Kansas City to Chicago to Beijing to Xi'an

I apologize for the wait - I have only just now managed to access my blog!

I’ve been in China for six days, and I feel like I have so many more stories to tell than I have time spent here.

I remember reaching 36,000 feet and -75 degrees Fahrenheit over Russia. I remember thinking that here, I was more space than sky.

Here are my thoughts from my first full day in Beijing:

            Arriving in Beijing yesterday, I noticed two things: Terminal 3 was large and uncrowded and the sky was a peculiar shade of grey.

            It had been nearly a fourteen hour flight. I set my watch to Chinese time before takeoff, which helped. I didn’t sleep much, but I saw several movies.

            We flew over ice in the Arctic and snow-capped mountains in Russia. Circling south of Beijing, we saw smooth and mist-shrouded green ranges.

            After exhaustion in the airport, we took a bus along one of the ring roads to BCLU. The traffic was terrifying. Lots of close calls and lane drifting but no accidents. The defensive driving skills make me hesitate to call Beijingers bad drivers.

            I saw the Bird’s Nest (Beijing’s Olympic stadium) and thought of my friend Luna, who danced there in the opening ceremony five years ago.

            Due to a change in BCLU policy, we Xi’an students ended up in a nice hotel. I’m rooming with Shelby, which is a glorious match. Although… we had a bit of an accident on our first night. By “bit of an accident,” I mean we broke the hotel. By “broke the hotel,” I mean we blew the power in our room. Fortunately, Joe was really nice about helping us fix it.

That day, there were blue skies over Beijing. It turns out that, on a clear day, you can see mountains in the distance. It was a lovely day to see the Forbidden City.
.

 Our view.

 Forbidden City

 Forbidden City from Above

Actual Mountains

Also, I actually saw people wearing these:

Also pictured: The wonderful Shelby in the first of many photobombs.

My second post (which will probably also go up tonight) will feature some of my Xi'an stories and pictures, along with some early reflections on my language classes. Until then, 再见!