Thought this Chicago intersection somewhat symbolizes my situation right now in the motherland. Which way do I go?!
-- Except in the motherland there are more bikes and Chinese people.
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Anyway, I just got back to Beijing from Chicago (congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Thurston!) and am jetlagged like a muhfugga. It was my first visit back to North America since moving to China, and it was interesting to see America through the lens of a neophyte Beijinger. Like the air is so clean! Time moves really sloooooooow. Amellica is truly the land of the plentiful. Where are all the Chinese people?!
Also interesting to come back and (try to) explain my time in America to my Chinese teacher, who's never been outside of China.
Me: Well I didn't really have time to study my Chinese because I had no time.
Teacher: What were you doing?"
Me: [I try to look up "DJing" in my Chinese-English dictionary...no entry.] Uh, I was "preparing" music.
Teacher: You were composing music?
Me: No, no, I was well, uh, visiting friends and my parents also were in Chicago.
Teacher: What's "Chicago?"
Me: It's a city. You know, like Michael Qiaodan?
Teacher: [Blank look] Is it near New York?
Me: No, it's far.
Teacher: How many hours by car?
Me: Well my parents took a plane* to Chicago.
*I almost say, "Well my parents spanked that monkey to Chicago," but correct myself at the last second. Phew. You see in Chinese, when you want to say "spank that monkey" you apparently just say "hit airplane." Which is not that far off from saying "take airplane," especially for somebody who speaks really bad Chinese. [Did I just write the words "parents" and "spank that monkey" in the same sentence?!!]
Anyway, things I already miss about USandA:
1. Reeeibbs. Word to Gale Street Inn. Ain't no "probably" here.
-- 2. Straight lounging with my homeslices and homeslicettes on fatty couches.
-- 3. Tautological rap at its finest.
Can we take a moment to ponder the profundity? You see this guy, MIMS? He's hot for the following reasons. He is hot because, well, he is fly. And us? Well we are not hot because, well, we are just not (hot). Got it? And that is why he is so hot.
Modern day Descartes.
And since I'm in China this beat is not getting played out, so it's still pretty bonkers.
Just got into Chi-town. People are "bigger-boned" here, and I can't help but notice how clean the air is. FYI: not as many Chinese people here.
Anyway things been kind of hectic in the motherland and have not had chance to update this piece as frequently as I'd like. Below is an anecdote from when I first moved into my apt.
-- China. Anything is possible.
My first night after moving into my apartment, I go grocery shopping at the Western grocery shop, Jenny Lou's. I head back to my new crib with a huge jug of water, ramen noodles, chips, paper towels, toilet paper, etc. It is getting late, and there is not much lighting on my street. In NY, this lack of lighting would probably give me pause at this hour, but since I'm in China (and a cab driver told me China is very safe still so you know that fact has got to be true) I am not as concerned. Walk up to the front entrance where a few hours earlier I had brought in my 2 suitcases with all my worldly possessions in this hemisphere.
The gate is now locked. I wasn't given a key for this gate. I just have keys to my apartment door locks.
Hmmmmm.
I wonder if this is something akin to the non-24 hour elevator attendant system, where after midnight residents have to hoof it up the stairs. Is it some residual communist thing where Central Command dictates that you must be back in your home unit by 12am or it's tough t*tty for you? I am lugging all these groceries, and for those of you who know me well certainly know I do not take great pleasure in lugging. I hate lugging in fact.
I walk around to the left of the building, lugging. No other entrance. I walk to the right, lugging. I see some guys go into a building next to mine. I think maybe there is an entrance through the basement that connects the 2 buildings. I follow them down the steps, lugging. At a distance of course. Lugging all these groceries, I'm not trying to signal any intimations that I'm creeping on a come up. Enter this basement, and the surroundings remind me of Fight Club. I hear all this yelling from various directions. A Chinese Tyler Durden? Do people actually live down here? It is also reminiscent of Zion from the Matrix (not from Ludlow St). So surreal. Where the fock am I?!!!
I decide to lug me and my groceries right back up to the street. I am at a loss. I call Uncle Andy and rouse him from bed.
"Hey Uncle Andy, sorry to bother you so late, but is it possible the building locks its front entrance so that there is no access later at night?"
"Well it's China, so anything is possible."
Great. Not what I was hoping to hear in the near pitch dark standing in front of the locked gate, lugging groceries. I am about to toss my groceries over the fence and climb over, but then I see some people walk out of this entrance down the block. I decide to investigate, and I find this walkway that leads me down some circuitous, dimly lit path to the back of my...building. Home sweet home.
-- Speaking of my abode, this is where the magic (of my Chinese absorption) happens. My laoshi (teacher) comes to my place five times a week, and I figured out how to record her--hence the headset--onto my computer for my own personalized Chinese podcasts. Word to the ni hao .
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Below is one of the local 24-hour fruit stands that plastic wrap the fruit, which for some reason reminds me of the couches in Coming to America.
-- Read a pretty funnyNYTimes article today, which called to mind a sign I saw in an elevator to Q Bar, where I made my Beijing DJing debut.
And of course this sign led me to wonder what Flavor Flav would think.
Olympic 3-wheelmotion. -- Got a request for a pic of the world famous China squat, of which I haven't actually seen that much since I've been here. I am wondering if this paucity of squatting relates to the public education campaign--in preparation for the Olympics--telling Chinese people not to spit on the streets (among other things). Personally, I think squatting is kind of cool, because it's like you can just chill anywhere, like fock it I'm just going to max right here.
--
In addition to Hong Kong (see previous "1 of 5" post), I am finding there are also a lot of Chinese people in mainland China, like at the Xizhimen* subway station here in Beijing.
*Sounds like that song, "Chi Chi Mon." To me at least.
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OK, for those of you who didn't get the memo, it is officially the Year of China in Russia. Last year it was the Year of Russia in China. Get it? Recently I saw a fascinating TV program at my apt on the CC-TV9, the one and only English channel, and it sure was a doozie.
Let me provide a little context. The guy on the right is the Russian Deputy Foreign Minister. Or maybe the Russian ambassador to China. I don't remember exactly. In any case what's important is to recognize his contagious cheerfulness in contrast to the Chinese TV host. It was like he was waiting all week just to be on this show!
On this episode, they were apparently working on a book project to strengthen ties between Russia and China. By the time I got the wherewithal to document this TV magic, the conversation had turned to ideas for a book cover.
My favorite exchange:
"So do you have any idea perhaps for our cover art?"
"Yup. I would rather focus on the contents of the book..." [Zinger]
