Class was great today, though more kids acted up and it was little bit more hectic. My first 3 rotations were all angels, while my last 3 rotations were all pretty wild.
Abby and I went to the supermarket and bought ice cream. It was amazing, but almost too sweet for me, which is weird because I've always been such a sweet freak. Plus, it was chocolate and I could hardly finish it. Today was super hot and humid, so we took a bong bong, or a Rabbit, home. It's a tiny 3 wheeled car that chugs as it drives. Ours stalled for a moment even; it has very little power and we were kind of afraid for our lives, but it was exciting. They're such cute looking vehicles and could almost fit in my suitcase. Almost.
I ate chicken neck today at dinner. There was hardly any meat on it and the vertebrae cracked as I bit into it. It tasted great but was way too difficult to eat for me to finish.
Mostly chilled out all day; it's too hot to do much. Watched a movie with a few of the girls. Hopefully we can go to the beach soon: I forgot to mention that I have a view of the ocean from my apartment sun room. If it wasn't for the noisy toilet that doesn't flush paper, or the cracks in the walls, or the rock hard beds, or the rust all over the bathroom appliances, or the limited shower space, or no A/C, or the cockroaches in the freezer, this would be paradise.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
August 30
Today was my first day of class at the ILP school. I was nervous, but excited to meet the little children with whom I would be spending 3 ½ hours every week day for the next four months. I had already planned my lessons and had them approved by my head teacher. Today, I would be making caterpillars with the kids.
My teaching rotation is with Emily and Kate. I will teach three classes all the same lesson, then have a 20 minute break, and then three more classes.
I’m not allowed to disclose our teaching methods, but we have an opening where we’re all together with our kids and we assigned them names and talked about the weather and sang songs. I named my Homeroom Class (my main class) after Disney characters (of course). Most of the kids were adorable and well behaved and paid attention to me, but there was always at least one kid who acted up and tried to grab everything and wouldn’t stay in his or her seat.
Since I’m teaching Arts and Crafts, I taught them how to make a caterpillar out of a popsicle stick, pom poms, google eyes, and pipe cleaner. Some kids surprised me with how much English they spoke and understood, while others just stared at me, clueless. There were a couple kids who quoted every word I said (more than likely having no clue what they were saying) and also a few kids who wouldn’t speak at all; they were too shy. One experience was especially rewarding: Kendall, a little girl, stared at me the entirety of class with her big black eyes wouldn’t breathe a word, even when prompted. I would ask her questions and then switch to the rest of the class, and everyone else was participating. Finally, close to the end of class, Kendall repeated a few words to me, and when I congratulated her and gave her a token (for prizes), she smiled her gappy smile in a way that just melted my heart. Although some of the kids are ridiculously crazy, I just love them all. They are the cutest things I’ve ever laid eyes on. One girl, Kim, who quotes everything I say, is just infatuated with me. She tries to sit close to me and always smiles hugely at me and waves. Absolutely precious.
At the end of my third class, the Chinese English teachers collect the kids for recess. One of my little girls held my hand down the staircase, and I wanted to cry it made me feel so complete.
Teaching will not be an easy task, but it will be worthwhile. I feel like the next four months will go by far too quickly.
At lunch, we ate with the Koreans because some of the ILP teachers work with Korean students. We had sushi and Korean desserts, which were rather tasteless but had very interesting textures. One tasted and felt like bread dough rolled in Parmesan cheese; another had a thick, chewy outside and a watery inside. Everything was chewy, like dough or like it was made of a glob of sticky rice.
After lunch, Abby and I chilled for a bit. We were lucky to have the morning class, as it gives us a completely free afternoon and evening, as opposed to those who teach the afternoon class, which is at 2-5:20.
At 6PM, Abby, Brittany, Kate and I went to the night market close to the school. It’s just a couple of blocks away and so we walked. There were dozens of stalls selling various kinds of meat and vegetables and fruit and things we didn’t even want to identify. There were more stalls selling shoes, shirts, jewelry, sea fishing poles the length of a semi-truck, hats, etc. I wanted a T-shirt with bad English grammar on it (they are everywhere; we enjoy reading the English graphic Ts and billboards) and found one that says “Death of a Department Chair” and had to buy it. The man said it was 40 yuan, but I told him it was too expensive and then walked away; he stopped me and said he’d sell it for 15 yuan, so I took it. I rock at this haggling thing.
I also purchased a cute polka dot dress for cheap—it’s super airy and nice in the hot, humid heat. Brittany says the morning markets are amazing for buying fruit, but since I work in the morning, Abby and I plan on going this Saturday. Brittany had purchased this fruit at the morning market that is…like a grape but it’s wrapped in a leafy shell and it tastes like candied apple. So incredible. She bought 5 pounds for like 2 yuan (like 40 cents US). They don’t serve us fruit at the school, and every single one of us have been craving something sweet. The Koreans also served us watermelon, and it was the greatest tasting watermelon I’ve ever had. I plan on stocking up on fruit on Saturday.
The night market was amazingly fun, and we can’t wait to go back again. I also can’t wait for the markets in Beijing; I hear they’re incredible and you can buy real pearls for a tenth of the valued price. I’m so getting some.
My teaching rotation is with Emily and Kate. I will teach three classes all the same lesson, then have a 20 minute break, and then three more classes.
I’m not allowed to disclose our teaching methods, but we have an opening where we’re all together with our kids and we assigned them names and talked about the weather and sang songs. I named my Homeroom Class (my main class) after Disney characters (of course). Most of the kids were adorable and well behaved and paid attention to me, but there was always at least one kid who acted up and tried to grab everything and wouldn’t stay in his or her seat.
Since I’m teaching Arts and Crafts, I taught them how to make a caterpillar out of a popsicle stick, pom poms, google eyes, and pipe cleaner. Some kids surprised me with how much English they spoke and understood, while others just stared at me, clueless. There were a couple kids who quoted every word I said (more than likely having no clue what they were saying) and also a few kids who wouldn’t speak at all; they were too shy. One experience was especially rewarding: Kendall, a little girl, stared at me the entirety of class with her big black eyes wouldn’t breathe a word, even when prompted. I would ask her questions and then switch to the rest of the class, and everyone else was participating. Finally, close to the end of class, Kendall repeated a few words to me, and when I congratulated her and gave her a token (for prizes), she smiled her gappy smile in a way that just melted my heart. Although some of the kids are ridiculously crazy, I just love them all. They are the cutest things I’ve ever laid eyes on. One girl, Kim, who quotes everything I say, is just infatuated with me. She tries to sit close to me and always smiles hugely at me and waves. Absolutely precious.
At the end of my third class, the Chinese English teachers collect the kids for recess. One of my little girls held my hand down the staircase, and I wanted to cry it made me feel so complete.
Teaching will not be an easy task, but it will be worthwhile. I feel like the next four months will go by far too quickly.
At lunch, we ate with the Koreans because some of the ILP teachers work with Korean students. We had sushi and Korean desserts, which were rather tasteless but had very interesting textures. One tasted and felt like bread dough rolled in Parmesan cheese; another had a thick, chewy outside and a watery inside. Everything was chewy, like dough or like it was made of a glob of sticky rice.
After lunch, Abby and I chilled for a bit. We were lucky to have the morning class, as it gives us a completely free afternoon and evening, as opposed to those who teach the afternoon class, which is at 2-5:20.
At 6PM, Abby, Brittany, Kate and I went to the night market close to the school. It’s just a couple of blocks away and so we walked. There were dozens of stalls selling various kinds of meat and vegetables and fruit and things we didn’t even want to identify. There were more stalls selling shoes, shirts, jewelry, sea fishing poles the length of a semi-truck, hats, etc. I wanted a T-shirt with bad English grammar on it (they are everywhere; we enjoy reading the English graphic Ts and billboards) and found one that says “Death of a Department Chair” and had to buy it. The man said it was 40 yuan, but I told him it was too expensive and then walked away; he stopped me and said he’d sell it for 15 yuan, so I took it. I rock at this haggling thing.
I also purchased a cute polka dot dress for cheap—it’s super airy and nice in the hot, humid heat. Brittany says the morning markets are amazing for buying fruit, but since I work in the morning, Abby and I plan on going this Saturday. Brittany had purchased this fruit at the morning market that is…like a grape but it’s wrapped in a leafy shell and it tastes like candied apple. So incredible. She bought 5 pounds for like 2 yuan (like 40 cents US). They don’t serve us fruit at the school, and every single one of us have been craving something sweet. The Koreans also served us watermelon, and it was the greatest tasting watermelon I’ve ever had. I plan on stocking up on fruit on Saturday.
The night market was amazingly fun, and we can’t wait to go back again. I also can’t wait for the markets in Beijing; I hear they’re incredible and you can buy real pearls for a tenth of the valued price. I’m so getting some.
August 29
Heads up: This email will not be a long as my last couple. Simply because today was not as exciting. We woke up, ate breakfast (which was a sort of hard bean and chopped green beans with a rice roll and a hardboiled egg) and then went to the building in which we will be teaching classes.
I forgot to mention: I was assigned teaching SPE, which means I am teaching the younger kids on the morning shift, 8AM-11:30AM, which is precisely what I wanted! I couldn’t be happier with it. I am teaching Arts and Crafts for the next four days and then Games for the week after that; I will rotate with the two other girls in my assigned group, Kate and Emily. There are three other teachers teaching in the morning on the 3rd floor; we are on the 4th floor. Then there are six girls teaching SPEs in the afternoon, 2-5:20. The SPEs are Games, Shop (building things), Drama, Arts and Crafts, Kitchen, and Gym.
Adam was assigned to the ELE classes, or the high school age kids because he speaks more Mandarin than anyone else in the ILP group. Three girls were assigned to the Korean kids, ages 10-15. My kids will be about 5-8.
We cleaned out our rooms and prepped them for school, which starts tomorrow (Tuesday). Then we stocked our Storage Room, where we keep the school supplies. There are so many; our head teachers are pleasantly shocked. The past ILP teachers left a ton of stuff, along with all the supplies we brought with us.
This was sweaty work, as it is very hot and humid here. Thankfully we’ve been blessed with cloud cover and a few rainfalls.
At lunch, they served us rice, roll, and…chicken feet. Whole freaking chicken feet. Perhaps in a couple months I will have the stomach to try it, but I could not today. It was complete with claws and ankle and skin and everything. I immediately lost my appetite and haven’t fully regained it. I haven’t been hungry since, despite not eating anything.
After lunch and some down time, we were supposed to meet the Chinese teachers and tell them about ourselves and then perform songs for them, but my roommate Abby and I got lost and wandered the entire grounds looking for our group. We walked up more than half a thousand steps (yes, we counted). May I reiterate, I will have amazing legs when I return to the States.
We decided to go to the Storage Room and plan our lessons for the week. Then we went to dinner and found our group. Dinner was great, with rice, roll, a tomato soupy thing, and a yellow squash soupy thing. Very yummy, but I still had no appetite.
Back at the apartment, Emily had purchased the rights to Facebook, Blogger, Youtube, and other websites and hooked me up with it for free. So now I have access to those sites, and will post many more pictures on Facebook than I will on my blog, simply because it’s faster. So if you’re my friend on Facebook, check them out. I will continue to blog, though MOLLY AND ALLISON, as of now you will no longer need to post my blog posts for me. Thanks anyway!
I have my lessons planned and approved, and I cannot wait for my first class tomorrow. Today, we ran across some young Chinese kids and they excitedly greeted us with an English hello, anxious to use their language skills on us. It was the cutest thing ever!
I am loving China, even though we were told today that we can’t flush our toilet paper, as it will clog the toilet.
Welcome to China, right?
I forgot to mention: I was assigned teaching SPE, which means I am teaching the younger kids on the morning shift, 8AM-11:30AM, which is precisely what I wanted! I couldn’t be happier with it. I am teaching Arts and Crafts for the next four days and then Games for the week after that; I will rotate with the two other girls in my assigned group, Kate and Emily. There are three other teachers teaching in the morning on the 3rd floor; we are on the 4th floor. Then there are six girls teaching SPEs in the afternoon, 2-5:20. The SPEs are Games, Shop (building things), Drama, Arts and Crafts, Kitchen, and Gym.
Adam was assigned to the ELE classes, or the high school age kids because he speaks more Mandarin than anyone else in the ILP group. Three girls were assigned to the Korean kids, ages 10-15. My kids will be about 5-8.
We cleaned out our rooms and prepped them for school, which starts tomorrow (Tuesday). Then we stocked our Storage Room, where we keep the school supplies. There are so many; our head teachers are pleasantly shocked. The past ILP teachers left a ton of stuff, along with all the supplies we brought with us.
This was sweaty work, as it is very hot and humid here. Thankfully we’ve been blessed with cloud cover and a few rainfalls.
At lunch, they served us rice, roll, and…chicken feet. Whole freaking chicken feet. Perhaps in a couple months I will have the stomach to try it, but I could not today. It was complete with claws and ankle and skin and everything. I immediately lost my appetite and haven’t fully regained it. I haven’t been hungry since, despite not eating anything.
After lunch and some down time, we were supposed to meet the Chinese teachers and tell them about ourselves and then perform songs for them, but my roommate Abby and I got lost and wandered the entire grounds looking for our group. We walked up more than half a thousand steps (yes, we counted). May I reiterate, I will have amazing legs when I return to the States.
We decided to go to the Storage Room and plan our lessons for the week. Then we went to dinner and found our group. Dinner was great, with rice, roll, a tomato soupy thing, and a yellow squash soupy thing. Very yummy, but I still had no appetite.
Back at the apartment, Emily had purchased the rights to Facebook, Blogger, Youtube, and other websites and hooked me up with it for free. So now I have access to those sites, and will post many more pictures on Facebook than I will on my blog, simply because it’s faster. So if you’re my friend on Facebook, check them out. I will continue to blog, though MOLLY AND ALLISON, as of now you will no longer need to post my blog posts for me. Thanks anyway!
I have my lessons planned and approved, and I cannot wait for my first class tomorrow. Today, we ran across some young Chinese kids and they excitedly greeted us with an English hello, anxious to use their language skills on us. It was the cutest thing ever!
I am loving China, even though we were told today that we can’t flush our toilet paper, as it will clog the toilet.
Welcome to China, right?
August 28
Today, I’m going to catch you up on yesterday. First, as a disclaimer, I am writing this as a means to multi-task since I do not have a lot of time to spend writing emails AND writing in my journal, so when I do have time, I will transcribe the emails I send to you into my journal. This means I may go into a lot of description about my day and how I felt about certain things, to help me remember everything later. Plus, it will help keep my emails exciting to you even though they will most likely all be miles long!
Anyway. I awoke, surprisingly, at 5:45AM and was completely awake (I thought I would sleep like a rock all day) but since there is limited hot water, I had to wait until 6:10 to take a shower. There are four hot water times throughout the day—in between those times, there is only cold water.
Abby and I walked to breakfast, which was a hardboiled egg, some veggies, and a white rice roll. Decent enough, although the roll is ridiculously bland. After lunch we met with our Chinese coordinator, Kelly, who was to take us on a tour of the city. We were going to take the bus into town (a five minute ride) but there is construction on our street so we had to complete the fifteen minute trip on foot, which was fine by me because it would allow me to see the city from a different perspective. Because there aren’t really sidewalks here (just side streets right off the main street) we walked down the road. There were small shops one after the other, all marked with Chinese characters and earth stains. We passed a small daytime market where practically everyone sold seafood (live) or meat (uncooked). There were baskets of clams and buckets of crabs and whole fish stretched out on slabs of stone and large chunks of bright red beef. It stunk of seafood and dirt, and this strange, indescribable smell unique to China. Everything smells like it, whatever that smell is. It’s pretty much seafood and dirt and body odor; it’s not an awful smell, but it isn’t pleasant, either. Even the clothing or bedding section of a supermarket smells like this.
The locals stared at us as we passed, and one little boy even pointed and shouted excitedly to his parents, probably saying something like, “Look, Mom! Americans!” He ran back into the house to grab her attention and pull her toward us. For the most part, the Chinese are a shy people and will not engage in conversation or interact with you unless you act first. Which is why Kelly told us to always smile and say hi to everyone we see: If we’re nice to them, they’ll be nice to us, and then “they will love you!” 99% of the time, the person’s face will light up like I just gave them an Americanized clothes dryer, free of charge, when I simply say “nee how” to them. It’s very encouraging, actually.
As we walked to the bank, Kelly showed us the post office and various places with night markets that open at 6PM. I’ve heard tell that the night markets are the place to go to get great deals on things. I will have to check one out sometime.
At the Bank of China, I exchanged my American cash for yuan and then took out yuan from the ATM. My bank charges me a $5 transaction fee plus 3% of whatever I pulled out, so I took out the largest amount I could. Yuan is very colorful (and stinky) and all have the profile of Sun Yat Sen (I think that’s his name), the leader of China. Or the communist guy that was in charge of turning China into what it is now.
When I came out of the bank, I found my group talking to a Chinese man and a Chinese crowd circling them, spectating. Adam, the only single guy in my group (Scott is married to Kailey; both are here) has taken a year of Mandarin and could communicate fairly well with the man. The man had taken on the common Chinese fad of lifting his shirt up to reveal his belly (a large amount of Chinese males do this—some don’t even wear shirts, even in stores) and seemed to be very interested in Adam. We all assumed he was drunk by the way he was acting and, according to Adam, by how broken even his Chinese was. And this was at about 9AM.
One Chinese lady asked if she could take a picture with us (and the drunk guy) and several other people came up to us and tried to communicate in broken English. Random bystanders took pictures of us. We really felt like celebrities, just for being Americans.
Here was where we saw our first Chinese baby butt—sticking right outta its pants. Some babies do wear diapers, but most just have their butts exposed to the world and their mothers will just hold them out when stuff starts to come down on them. One of my girls said she saw a baby wearing a diaper but it was visible through the hole in the back of its pants. Many babies’ butts are covered by cute dresses, but I would assume that underneath they are exposed.
The supermarket was just down the street from the bank. It’s super crowded and noisy, with blaring American and Chinese pop music, and the incessant flow of Mandarin words coming out of countless peoples’ mouths.
This supermarket had almost everything you could need, from bedding to flower pots to dishware to hangers to the most adorable and stylish wide-brimmed hats I had ever laid eyes on. If not from the supermarket, I will own a hat like that before I leave China.
I decided to buy the necessities there and wait until the night markets and the Pearle Market in Beijing to buy random souvenirs, as they will be immensely cheaper there. Cami told me that an umbrella at the supermarket for 25 yuan was a rip off, even though it’s only about $4.50 in US dollars. So I bought shampoo (my bottle is completely in Chinese, so I had to find one that said “Shampoo” in English so I could compare the characters), toilet paper, hangers, some traditional Chinese snacks, a bed sheet, and a peach juice drink Cami claimed was amazing, all for about $13.
When I exited the supermarket, I once again found my group surrounded by Chinese spectators, who were simply staring at the Americans for no particular reason, as my companions were just standing around waiting for the rest of the group. We’re just so popular we can’t help it!
We boarded the bus and headed for our next stop: Big World, as Kelly called it in English, a gigantic shopping center, the heart of downtown Weihai City. To ride the bus, it’s only 1 yuan, which is about $.20. Our bus was a stick shift, and the driver even stalled it once at a bus stop. People would swarm onto it until we were all pushed up against each other, until it was almost too close for comfort. I could only imagine what Central and South American buses must be like.
In China, if you’re the bigger vehicle you totally rule the road. Our bus forced people into other lanes and out of the road by speeding up and honking the horn angrily. I nearly witnessed a few fatalities. People—unintelligently, I think, considering how people here drive worse than Utah drivers—jay walk up the kazoo. It’s not illegal and it happens constantly—we even did it a few times throughout the day to speed up our travel time; cars cut each other off all the time.
Big World is amazing. There are shops everywhere, but we went into one of the larger buildings that is filled with smaller businesses, like a shopping mall in the States. The upstairs floor was, and I’m not kidding, AT LEAST 85% shoes. Hundreds and hundreds of shoes—and not just any shoes. You can buy Toms and other ridiculously expensive brand name shoes for about ten dollars—of course, they’re knock offs, but who could tell? There are also the most incredibly fashionable shoes I’ve ever seen, with bows and buttons and ribbons and bright colors and unique styles that no one in the States would have, except for me when this trip is over. I will invest in a pair or two of these amazing shoes, though I will not wear them here in China.
The women here, for the most part, love to dress up. Countless wear adorable and very nice dresses and heels around town, like Sunday best best, even when just shopping or getting lunch at the cafeteria. The irony is, I found, is that they all dress so nicely, but the city is so filthy that they appear out of place to me. I would never dress up to go around this town, especially not wear a pair of irresistible heels down the dirty sidewalks that babies poop on and old men hock loogies on. (No lie there.)
But that’s just me.
We had limited time, but several of us plan on returning to Big World when we have lots of time to blow on window shopping. Or, er, real shopping. Whatever happens happens.
We then proceeded to walk to the port. We were all definitely quite a spectacle, 19 Americans hiking through the streets carrying toilet paper, laundry detergent, pillows, and everything else we had accumulated (I wasn’t the only one to purchase necessities) over the day. I commented on this to Kelly, and she assured me that we didn’t need toilet paper to get people to stare at us: they would stare at us anyway. How reassuring.
Our destination was the Happiness Gate, a monument on the Weihai coast line. It’s a gigantic “picture frame” or “door frame,” a gate to happiness. Before it is a large copper mound inlaid with Chinese characters. The Chinese believe that you will always be happy if you walk on all of the characters. Kelly says she is always happy, so it must be real. I made it a point to step on all of the characters.
The Happiness Gate was on my “To See” list before I even arrived here; I saw it on Wikipedia for Weihai. At night, the edges light up in bright rainbow colors.
At this time, we decided to head back to the school. Most of the group left early, and Adam, Maren, Mizzy, Katy, and I decided to try out the Chinese Pizza Hut down the street. One of the best ideas ever. The menu was much more elaborate than it is in the States, with smoothies and milk shakes and seafood dishes and unusual pizza. Mizzy, Maren and I shared a New Orleans pizza, with tomatoes, chicken, onions, mushrooms, and lots of cheddar cheese. There was no red sauce, or any sauce as far as we could tell, but it tasted incredible—perhaps because we had eaten so much rice and too many bland rolls lately.
(To be honest, I have actually been surprised by how tasty the food at the school is. I pick over some parts of the meals, but there has always been one selection on every tray that has been delicious, and I discovered that if you dip the rolls in the sauce, it tastes amazing and is usually an easier alternative to chop sticks. I am not eating as much as I am accustomed to, however, probably because the food fills me up so quickly due to all the white rice that expands in my stomach and I find I become hungry much quicker than I did in the States. At this time in my story, we have not been served anything horrendous—some dishes are actually ridiculously tasty, consisting mostly of rice, vegetables, and meat. Think Panda Express but wetter and less sweet.)
We had a fun time getting to know each other and learning each other’s backgrounds. Katy should receive her mission call while she’s here in China; Mizzy (Maren) is from Missouri and so we call her Mizzy to differentiate her from the other Maren (both are 19); Maren goes to BYU and is like my new best friend (she was my housemate in Utah before we flew out); Adam is 20 and is at the U getting his bachelors in International Studies with a minor in Arabic and a minor in Mandarin. Everybody, including the Chinese, thought he was Indian (Middle Eastern Indian) but really he’s El Salvadorian.
After dinner, we decided to hail taxis because it would take too long to get to the bus station since the last bus comes at 6:10, and it was 6:04. Kelly had claimed that all taxi drivers would understand if we told them to take us to Daguanghua, the name of our school. Adam, Mizzy, and Katy went in one taxi and Maren and I took another. Our driver only spoke Mandarin, not even a lick of English, and had no clue what we meant by Daguanghua. He drove us around aimlessly for a few minutes, yelling in Mandarin. Now and then he’d pull over and write characters on his hand and point at them, as if we had any idea what he was saying or what the characters meant. Like we should know. (Maybe we should, actually.) He was not nice at all about it and I’m certain he called us a few choice Mandarin words, until Maren told him we were getting out. We paid him for our troubles and got out on the sidewalk where we were. Kelly was supposed to give us her business card with all the school’s information on it, but hadn’t yet and so we had nothing to go off except Daguanghua, which apparently wasn’t enough.
We were downtown and the sun was setting fast, and the anxiety was setting in. I knew Maren was very distraught, and I understood the gravity of our situation, but for some bewildering, perverse reason I wasn’t that scared. I think I had a naivety about me, thinking, “Wow, I come all the way across the world to CHINA and my first night on the town I’m lost in translation. This is AWESOME!” I guess I felt like I was in a movie, or that this was all part of the experience. I had the same thought as when Abby and I found cockroaches in our freezer: “Welcome to China.”
I did keep a prayer in my heart, because deep down I knew I didn’t want to be sleeping on the streets. We hailed a second taxi, and the driver had no clue what we were talking about, but the third one seemed to have an idea. With growing desperation, we climbed in.
This guy drove in a confident manner, and we felt we might have just lucked out. Finally, we began to recognize our surroundings, and after a fifteen minute or so ride we pulled up in front of our school. After paying our driver, who was the biggest sweetheart and was so kind to us, and xiexie-d the crap out of him, we hurried into the school grounds and felt like kissing the security gate or the nasty sidewalk. I said, “If it wasn’t illegal, I’d praise the Lord aloud right now.” I kept my offerings of gratitude in my heart.
Hurrying to our apartment building 230 stairs away (we counted later, see pictures), we were never so happy to see our group. Apparently, however, they had just as hard a time as us and had just arrived before us. Adam had finally understood the driver saying “school” and took his word for it.
I vowed never to leave the school grounds again until I had Kelly’s card in my pocket for reference.
It was an altogether exciting experience, one Maren and I will one day look back at and laugh. The day, overall, was actually quite fantastically mind blowing amazing.
Anyway. I awoke, surprisingly, at 5:45AM and was completely awake (I thought I would sleep like a rock all day) but since there is limited hot water, I had to wait until 6:10 to take a shower. There are four hot water times throughout the day—in between those times, there is only cold water.
Abby and I walked to breakfast, which was a hardboiled egg, some veggies, and a white rice roll. Decent enough, although the roll is ridiculously bland. After lunch we met with our Chinese coordinator, Kelly, who was to take us on a tour of the city. We were going to take the bus into town (a five minute ride) but there is construction on our street so we had to complete the fifteen minute trip on foot, which was fine by me because it would allow me to see the city from a different perspective. Because there aren’t really sidewalks here (just side streets right off the main street) we walked down the road. There were small shops one after the other, all marked with Chinese characters and earth stains. We passed a small daytime market where practically everyone sold seafood (live) or meat (uncooked). There were baskets of clams and buckets of crabs and whole fish stretched out on slabs of stone and large chunks of bright red beef. It stunk of seafood and dirt, and this strange, indescribable smell unique to China. Everything smells like it, whatever that smell is. It’s pretty much seafood and dirt and body odor; it’s not an awful smell, but it isn’t pleasant, either. Even the clothing or bedding section of a supermarket smells like this.
The locals stared at us as we passed, and one little boy even pointed and shouted excitedly to his parents, probably saying something like, “Look, Mom! Americans!” He ran back into the house to grab her attention and pull her toward us. For the most part, the Chinese are a shy people and will not engage in conversation or interact with you unless you act first. Which is why Kelly told us to always smile and say hi to everyone we see: If we’re nice to them, they’ll be nice to us, and then “they will love you!” 99% of the time, the person’s face will light up like I just gave them an Americanized clothes dryer, free of charge, when I simply say “nee how” to them. It’s very encouraging, actually.
As we walked to the bank, Kelly showed us the post office and various places with night markets that open at 6PM. I’ve heard tell that the night markets are the place to go to get great deals on things. I will have to check one out sometime.
At the Bank of China, I exchanged my American cash for yuan and then took out yuan from the ATM. My bank charges me a $5 transaction fee plus 3% of whatever I pulled out, so I took out the largest amount I could. Yuan is very colorful (and stinky) and all have the profile of Sun Yat Sen (I think that’s his name), the leader of China. Or the communist guy that was in charge of turning China into what it is now.
When I came out of the bank, I found my group talking to a Chinese man and a Chinese crowd circling them, spectating. Adam, the only single guy in my group (Scott is married to Kailey; both are here) has taken a year of Mandarin and could communicate fairly well with the man. The man had taken on the common Chinese fad of lifting his shirt up to reveal his belly (a large amount of Chinese males do this—some don’t even wear shirts, even in stores) and seemed to be very interested in Adam. We all assumed he was drunk by the way he was acting and, according to Adam, by how broken even his Chinese was. And this was at about 9AM.
One Chinese lady asked if she could take a picture with us (and the drunk guy) and several other people came up to us and tried to communicate in broken English. Random bystanders took pictures of us. We really felt like celebrities, just for being Americans.
Here was where we saw our first Chinese baby butt—sticking right outta its pants. Some babies do wear diapers, but most just have their butts exposed to the world and their mothers will just hold them out when stuff starts to come down on them. One of my girls said she saw a baby wearing a diaper but it was visible through the hole in the back of its pants. Many babies’ butts are covered by cute dresses, but I would assume that underneath they are exposed.
The supermarket was just down the street from the bank. It’s super crowded and noisy, with blaring American and Chinese pop music, and the incessant flow of Mandarin words coming out of countless peoples’ mouths.
This supermarket had almost everything you could need, from bedding to flower pots to dishware to hangers to the most adorable and stylish wide-brimmed hats I had ever laid eyes on. If not from the supermarket, I will own a hat like that before I leave China.
I decided to buy the necessities there and wait until the night markets and the Pearle Market in Beijing to buy random souvenirs, as they will be immensely cheaper there. Cami told me that an umbrella at the supermarket for 25 yuan was a rip off, even though it’s only about $4.50 in US dollars. So I bought shampoo (my bottle is completely in Chinese, so I had to find one that said “Shampoo” in English so I could compare the characters), toilet paper, hangers, some traditional Chinese snacks, a bed sheet, and a peach juice drink Cami claimed was amazing, all for about $13.
When I exited the supermarket, I once again found my group surrounded by Chinese spectators, who were simply staring at the Americans for no particular reason, as my companions were just standing around waiting for the rest of the group. We’re just so popular we can’t help it!
We boarded the bus and headed for our next stop: Big World, as Kelly called it in English, a gigantic shopping center, the heart of downtown Weihai City. To ride the bus, it’s only 1 yuan, which is about $.20. Our bus was a stick shift, and the driver even stalled it once at a bus stop. People would swarm onto it until we were all pushed up against each other, until it was almost too close for comfort. I could only imagine what Central and South American buses must be like.
In China, if you’re the bigger vehicle you totally rule the road. Our bus forced people into other lanes and out of the road by speeding up and honking the horn angrily. I nearly witnessed a few fatalities. People—unintelligently, I think, considering how people here drive worse than Utah drivers—jay walk up the kazoo. It’s not illegal and it happens constantly—we even did it a few times throughout the day to speed up our travel time; cars cut each other off all the time.
Big World is amazing. There are shops everywhere, but we went into one of the larger buildings that is filled with smaller businesses, like a shopping mall in the States. The upstairs floor was, and I’m not kidding, AT LEAST 85% shoes. Hundreds and hundreds of shoes—and not just any shoes. You can buy Toms and other ridiculously expensive brand name shoes for about ten dollars—of course, they’re knock offs, but who could tell? There are also the most incredibly fashionable shoes I’ve ever seen, with bows and buttons and ribbons and bright colors and unique styles that no one in the States would have, except for me when this trip is over. I will invest in a pair or two of these amazing shoes, though I will not wear them here in China.
The women here, for the most part, love to dress up. Countless wear adorable and very nice dresses and heels around town, like Sunday best best, even when just shopping or getting lunch at the cafeteria. The irony is, I found, is that they all dress so nicely, but the city is so filthy that they appear out of place to me. I would never dress up to go around this town, especially not wear a pair of irresistible heels down the dirty sidewalks that babies poop on and old men hock loogies on. (No lie there.)
But that’s just me.
We had limited time, but several of us plan on returning to Big World when we have lots of time to blow on window shopping. Or, er, real shopping. Whatever happens happens.
We then proceeded to walk to the port. We were all definitely quite a spectacle, 19 Americans hiking through the streets carrying toilet paper, laundry detergent, pillows, and everything else we had accumulated (I wasn’t the only one to purchase necessities) over the day. I commented on this to Kelly, and she assured me that we didn’t need toilet paper to get people to stare at us: they would stare at us anyway. How reassuring.
Our destination was the Happiness Gate, a monument on the Weihai coast line. It’s a gigantic “picture frame” or “door frame,” a gate to happiness. Before it is a large copper mound inlaid with Chinese characters. The Chinese believe that you will always be happy if you walk on all of the characters. Kelly says she is always happy, so it must be real. I made it a point to step on all of the characters.
The Happiness Gate was on my “To See” list before I even arrived here; I saw it on Wikipedia for Weihai. At night, the edges light up in bright rainbow colors.
At this time, we decided to head back to the school. Most of the group left early, and Adam, Maren, Mizzy, Katy, and I decided to try out the Chinese Pizza Hut down the street. One of the best ideas ever. The menu was much more elaborate than it is in the States, with smoothies and milk shakes and seafood dishes and unusual pizza. Mizzy, Maren and I shared a New Orleans pizza, with tomatoes, chicken, onions, mushrooms, and lots of cheddar cheese. There was no red sauce, or any sauce as far as we could tell, but it tasted incredible—perhaps because we had eaten so much rice and too many bland rolls lately.
(To be honest, I have actually been surprised by how tasty the food at the school is. I pick over some parts of the meals, but there has always been one selection on every tray that has been delicious, and I discovered that if you dip the rolls in the sauce, it tastes amazing and is usually an easier alternative to chop sticks. I am not eating as much as I am accustomed to, however, probably because the food fills me up so quickly due to all the white rice that expands in my stomach and I find I become hungry much quicker than I did in the States. At this time in my story, we have not been served anything horrendous—some dishes are actually ridiculously tasty, consisting mostly of rice, vegetables, and meat. Think Panda Express but wetter and less sweet.)
We had a fun time getting to know each other and learning each other’s backgrounds. Katy should receive her mission call while she’s here in China; Mizzy (Maren) is from Missouri and so we call her Mizzy to differentiate her from the other Maren (both are 19); Maren goes to BYU and is like my new best friend (she was my housemate in Utah before we flew out); Adam is 20 and is at the U getting his bachelors in International Studies with a minor in Arabic and a minor in Mandarin. Everybody, including the Chinese, thought he was Indian (Middle Eastern Indian) but really he’s El Salvadorian.
After dinner, we decided to hail taxis because it would take too long to get to the bus station since the last bus comes at 6:10, and it was 6:04. Kelly had claimed that all taxi drivers would understand if we told them to take us to Daguanghua, the name of our school. Adam, Mizzy, and Katy went in one taxi and Maren and I took another. Our driver only spoke Mandarin, not even a lick of English, and had no clue what we meant by Daguanghua. He drove us around aimlessly for a few minutes, yelling in Mandarin. Now and then he’d pull over and write characters on his hand and point at them, as if we had any idea what he was saying or what the characters meant. Like we should know. (Maybe we should, actually.) He was not nice at all about it and I’m certain he called us a few choice Mandarin words, until Maren told him we were getting out. We paid him for our troubles and got out on the sidewalk where we were. Kelly was supposed to give us her business card with all the school’s information on it, but hadn’t yet and so we had nothing to go off except Daguanghua, which apparently wasn’t enough.
We were downtown and the sun was setting fast, and the anxiety was setting in. I knew Maren was very distraught, and I understood the gravity of our situation, but for some bewildering, perverse reason I wasn’t that scared. I think I had a naivety about me, thinking, “Wow, I come all the way across the world to CHINA and my first night on the town I’m lost in translation. This is AWESOME!” I guess I felt like I was in a movie, or that this was all part of the experience. I had the same thought as when Abby and I found cockroaches in our freezer: “Welcome to China.”
I did keep a prayer in my heart, because deep down I knew I didn’t want to be sleeping on the streets. We hailed a second taxi, and the driver had no clue what we were talking about, but the third one seemed to have an idea. With growing desperation, we climbed in.
This guy drove in a confident manner, and we felt we might have just lucked out. Finally, we began to recognize our surroundings, and after a fifteen minute or so ride we pulled up in front of our school. After paying our driver, who was the biggest sweetheart and was so kind to us, and xiexie-d the crap out of him, we hurried into the school grounds and felt like kissing the security gate or the nasty sidewalk. I said, “If it wasn’t illegal, I’d praise the Lord aloud right now.” I kept my offerings of gratitude in my heart.
Hurrying to our apartment building 230 stairs away (we counted later, see pictures), we were never so happy to see our group. Apparently, however, they had just as hard a time as us and had just arrived before us. Adam had finally understood the driver saying “school” and took his word for it.
I vowed never to leave the school grounds again until I had Kelly’s card in my pocket for reference.
It was an altogether exciting experience, one Maren and I will one day look back at and laugh. The day, overall, was actually quite fantastically mind blowing amazing.
August 27
Hello everyone!
My goodness, these last few days have been full of excitement! Just so you all know, I am currently in my apartment in Weihai, Shandong, China. We made it here safely yesterday at about 4:15 PM; I will start at the beginning, or where I left off in my last email.
At 2:35PM on August 27 (about 12am August 27 for those in the States), the Weihai ILP group boarded the plane headed to Weihai; we rode Korean Air. I just love the flight attendants' uniforms: the females wear white sheath (pencil) skirts and cyan/light turquoise silk button down blouses with high collars, black heel, and bandanas made of stiff fabric around their necks that are tied sort of into bows. They look so sleek and stylish and I imagined myself pulling off that look in the States—certainly not as well as they do, but it would still be fun.
I had a window seat, about which I was very excited, though the hour-long flight from Seoul to Weihai wasn’t that exciting visually: mostly I saw clouds and water. (Katy and I were disappointed that the clouds weren’t swirly as Mulan depicts them.) Instead of the usual peanuts and crackers that one receives on short flights, I was served rice, tuna, and kem chi with a pineapple piece and purified water. I believe kem chi is seaweed, though I could be wrong. It tasted strongly of seafood and salt, so that’s probably correct. When mixed with the tuna and rice, it really wasn’t that awful tasting.
Oh, I suppose I could mention that I wanted to get a souvenir from the Korean airport, but after exchanging some American money into won, I discovered that all of the Versacci scarves and Bvlgari purses and other fashion brands were at least $200—American dollars. And that’s all they sold there. So I decided just to be happy with Korean cash as souvenirs.
Back to the story: As we flew over the Yellow Sea, I saw a couple whales down below. And then finally I saw the Chinese coast—and was blown away with how gorgeous the country side is here. There were rolling hills of patches of various crops, all rectangles of different shades of green, and lush trees and winding dirt roads. Now and then, a small village with dusty roads and houses made of cement and orange shingles would break up the sea of green, giving me a glance of rural Chinese civilization.
After landing at the small Weihai airport, we went through Immigration Quarantine Check, where they checked our passports, visa, and arrival card before sending us to baggage claim. Everyone else besides the 20 in my group were Asian, and we all felt like legitimate tourists. I don’t like feeling like a tourist, or a crazy person who has no idea what they’re doing or what they’ve gotten themselves into, but with my blond hair and round eyes and full eyelids, there was no escaping the Clueless American stamp on my forehead.
After collecting our bags from baggage claim, we met the ILP Chinese coordinator, Kelly, who led us to a bus that brought us to our school. Staring out the window, I could hardly believe I was in China. Everything is so lush here; flowered trees are all over the place, and I saw an orchard of some kind of fruit that looks like an apple but peels on the tree like paper origami, leaving a skin that looks like crumpled paper. I have yet to find out what it is.
Kelly is Chinese but speaks English quite well. She is in charge of all people associated with ILP at the Weihai school. We ask her any question we might have, even “How do you say this? Or that?” and she in turn asks us about ourselves and American life and how to say things in English.
We drove through metro areas where everything was written in Chinese characters. Countless buildings are under new construction (or they’re in the beginning stages but have been that way for some time) while all the others ones could use some renovating. Most shops were rinky dinky and under kept; the sidewalks are dirty and crumbling and littered; water damage is common, everywhere—the gutters, the sidewalks, the walls, the roofs, the laundry that hangs out of windows and on poles outside of doors (there are now dryers here), the dogs that wander the streets with reckless abandon. I was actually surprised at how second world Weihai is; I had naively assumed that because it was a tourist city it was going to be kept up and shiny Carmel by the Sea, California. Perhaps I just haven’t seen Uptown living yet.
We continued up a rode that led through tunnels (we all held our breath) and the more rural parts of the city. I wondered if our school was in the middle of nowhere, but we really just took the scenic route to the school. In actuality the school is a fifteen minute walk to one of the largest supermarkets in town.
Finally, we arrived at the school, which is a gated and guarded community. The school consists of several campus buildings and dormitory buildings—it’s huge. It has (rundown) basketball courts, a soccer/futbol field, badminton, and a pool for leisure. We drove past the building in which we will be teaching and the students’ dormitory buildings. Upon reaching our apartment building, we discovered that we were to climb 10 flights of stairs to our rooms—with two 50 pound bags, my 30 pound carry on and 30 pound personal bag. By the time this task was complete, I was soaked in sweat (did I mention it’s super humid here? Because it is) and breathless. We all made a prediction that by the end of the four months, we’ll all have incredible leg muscles from climbing five levels (10 flights, 80 stairs each way) and squatting and arm muscles from carrying supplies and luggage.
We proceeded straight to dinner before settling into our apartments. Kelly told us to say hello (nee how) to everyone—Chinese people are shy and won’t initiate conversation. The cafeteria is in a building right beside our apartment building. It is a large room with tons of orange chairs and tables. We stood in two single file lines at the kitchen/serving counter and were given metal trays filled with rice, some sort of dish, and the whitest, blandest roll I’ve ever eaten. I think it may have been made of rice.
Surprisingly, I really enjoyed the food. I was not sure what to expect, but it’s really not a whole ton different from Americanized Chinese food. (We ate with wooden chopsticks, like the kind you get at Panda Express that you break apart.) Of course, we are eating cafeteria food—I’m sure food at a restaurant would be a different story. Perhaps.
On the way out, we saw a spider the size of about half my palm. Encouraging.
I am rooming Abby Morrison, who is also eighteen. She is here with her sister, Emily; they are from Canada/most recently Pleasant Grove, UT. She’s a sweet girl and we get along well. The apartments have two beds, a fridge and freezer combo, a water dispenser and purified water jug, night stands, desks, and two large closets and lots of storage space. However, the beds are nearly rock hard. There are no mattresses, just a thin pad on a food board. Also, there was a small cockroach in our freezer.
The bathroom makes me grateful I got a tetanus shot. The toilet is not a squatter, thank goodness, but makes a loud hissing noise after you flush it because it takes forever to fill with water again. The shower is a shower head on the wall and handles and a drain in the bathroom floor. EVERYTHING gets wet when you take a shower—you might as well shower and pee at the same time to save time and toilet paper. We had a laundry machine, which is small but seems to get the job done. The soap runs out of a hose and onto the bathroom floor though. We found this out because when I opened my large suitcase, I discovered that my 24oz. shampoo had exploded all over everything. The top literally popped off or something, and the bottle was completely empty. Abby and I took all my clothes out and threw them in the washing machine, supposing that the shampoo would work as a decent detergent.
It was a messy business and I believe I’m just gonna toss that suitcase since it’s still drenched in shampoo and is now rusty.
Abby and I unpacked everything else and settled in. The school supplied us with rice-pillows; I’m very grateful I brought my travel sized fluffy pillow from home—it’s small but soft!
After a quick orientation with Cami and Marie, my head teachers, we went to bed. Abby and I were out almost instantly.
Oh, by the way, I just got internet. We were having problems connecting for the first day but finally figured it out. I have internet connection in my room, so I have easy access to it. Plus, my adapter works but there is also an American plug in the wall that works with all of my American plugs, which is handy. I will send pictures of everything to be put on my blog (andchocolatetoo.blogspot.com) later; I will also write you about today (the 28th) later, because I’m exhausted from exploring and getting lost in the city (I’ll explain later, like I said) and Maren would like to use my internet connection before she hits the sack.
I have loved hearing back from some of you! I’d love to hear back from anyone.
I love and appreciate you all!
Sincerely,
Jillian
My goodness, these last few days have been full of excitement! Just so you all know, I am currently in my apartment in Weihai, Shandong, China. We made it here safely yesterday at about 4:15 PM; I will start at the beginning, or where I left off in my last email.
At 2:35PM on August 27 (about 12am August 27 for those in the States), the Weihai ILP group boarded the plane headed to Weihai; we rode Korean Air. I just love the flight attendants' uniforms: the females wear white sheath (pencil) skirts and cyan/light turquoise silk button down blouses with high collars, black heel, and bandanas made of stiff fabric around their necks that are tied sort of into bows. They look so sleek and stylish and I imagined myself pulling off that look in the States—certainly not as well as they do, but it would still be fun.
I had a window seat, about which I was very excited, though the hour-long flight from Seoul to Weihai wasn’t that exciting visually: mostly I saw clouds and water. (Katy and I were disappointed that the clouds weren’t swirly as Mulan depicts them.) Instead of the usual peanuts and crackers that one receives on short flights, I was served rice, tuna, and kem chi with a pineapple piece and purified water. I believe kem chi is seaweed, though I could be wrong. It tasted strongly of seafood and salt, so that’s probably correct. When mixed with the tuna and rice, it really wasn’t that awful tasting.
Oh, I suppose I could mention that I wanted to get a souvenir from the Korean airport, but after exchanging some American money into won, I discovered that all of the Versacci scarves and Bvlgari purses and other fashion brands were at least $200—American dollars. And that’s all they sold there. So I decided just to be happy with Korean cash as souvenirs.
Back to the story: As we flew over the Yellow Sea, I saw a couple whales down below. And then finally I saw the Chinese coast—and was blown away with how gorgeous the country side is here. There were rolling hills of patches of various crops, all rectangles of different shades of green, and lush trees and winding dirt roads. Now and then, a small village with dusty roads and houses made of cement and orange shingles would break up the sea of green, giving me a glance of rural Chinese civilization.
After landing at the small Weihai airport, we went through Immigration Quarantine Check, where they checked our passports, visa, and arrival card before sending us to baggage claim. Everyone else besides the 20 in my group were Asian, and we all felt like legitimate tourists. I don’t like feeling like a tourist, or a crazy person who has no idea what they’re doing or what they’ve gotten themselves into, but with my blond hair and round eyes and full eyelids, there was no escaping the Clueless American stamp on my forehead.
After collecting our bags from baggage claim, we met the ILP Chinese coordinator, Kelly, who led us to a bus that brought us to our school. Staring out the window, I could hardly believe I was in China. Everything is so lush here; flowered trees are all over the place, and I saw an orchard of some kind of fruit that looks like an apple but peels on the tree like paper origami, leaving a skin that looks like crumpled paper. I have yet to find out what it is.
Kelly is Chinese but speaks English quite well. She is in charge of all people associated with ILP at the Weihai school. We ask her any question we might have, even “How do you say this? Or that?” and she in turn asks us about ourselves and American life and how to say things in English.
We drove through metro areas where everything was written in Chinese characters. Countless buildings are under new construction (or they’re in the beginning stages but have been that way for some time) while all the others ones could use some renovating. Most shops were rinky dinky and under kept; the sidewalks are dirty and crumbling and littered; water damage is common, everywhere—the gutters, the sidewalks, the walls, the roofs, the laundry that hangs out of windows and on poles outside of doors (there are now dryers here), the dogs that wander the streets with reckless abandon. I was actually surprised at how second world Weihai is; I had naively assumed that because it was a tourist city it was going to be kept up and shiny Carmel by the Sea, California. Perhaps I just haven’t seen Uptown living yet.
We continued up a rode that led through tunnels (we all held our breath) and the more rural parts of the city. I wondered if our school was in the middle of nowhere, but we really just took the scenic route to the school. In actuality the school is a fifteen minute walk to one of the largest supermarkets in town.
Finally, we arrived at the school, which is a gated and guarded community. The school consists of several campus buildings and dormitory buildings—it’s huge. It has (rundown) basketball courts, a soccer/futbol field, badminton, and a pool for leisure. We drove past the building in which we will be teaching and the students’ dormitory buildings. Upon reaching our apartment building, we discovered that we were to climb 10 flights of stairs to our rooms—with two 50 pound bags, my 30 pound carry on and 30 pound personal bag. By the time this task was complete, I was soaked in sweat (did I mention it’s super humid here? Because it is) and breathless. We all made a prediction that by the end of the four months, we’ll all have incredible leg muscles from climbing five levels (10 flights, 80 stairs each way) and squatting and arm muscles from carrying supplies and luggage.
We proceeded straight to dinner before settling into our apartments. Kelly told us to say hello (nee how) to everyone—Chinese people are shy and won’t initiate conversation. The cafeteria is in a building right beside our apartment building. It is a large room with tons of orange chairs and tables. We stood in two single file lines at the kitchen/serving counter and were given metal trays filled with rice, some sort of dish, and the whitest, blandest roll I’ve ever eaten. I think it may have been made of rice.
Surprisingly, I really enjoyed the food. I was not sure what to expect, but it’s really not a whole ton different from Americanized Chinese food. (We ate with wooden chopsticks, like the kind you get at Panda Express that you break apart.) Of course, we are eating cafeteria food—I’m sure food at a restaurant would be a different story. Perhaps.
On the way out, we saw a spider the size of about half my palm. Encouraging.
I am rooming Abby Morrison, who is also eighteen. She is here with her sister, Emily; they are from Canada/most recently Pleasant Grove, UT. She’s a sweet girl and we get along well. The apartments have two beds, a fridge and freezer combo, a water dispenser and purified water jug, night stands, desks, and two large closets and lots of storage space. However, the beds are nearly rock hard. There are no mattresses, just a thin pad on a food board. Also, there was a small cockroach in our freezer.
The bathroom makes me grateful I got a tetanus shot. The toilet is not a squatter, thank goodness, but makes a loud hissing noise after you flush it because it takes forever to fill with water again. The shower is a shower head on the wall and handles and a drain in the bathroom floor. EVERYTHING gets wet when you take a shower—you might as well shower and pee at the same time to save time and toilet paper. We had a laundry machine, which is small but seems to get the job done. The soap runs out of a hose and onto the bathroom floor though. We found this out because when I opened my large suitcase, I discovered that my 24oz. shampoo had exploded all over everything. The top literally popped off or something, and the bottle was completely empty. Abby and I took all my clothes out and threw them in the washing machine, supposing that the shampoo would work as a decent detergent.
It was a messy business and I believe I’m just gonna toss that suitcase since it’s still drenched in shampoo and is now rusty.
Abby and I unpacked everything else and settled in. The school supplied us with rice-pillows; I’m very grateful I brought my travel sized fluffy pillow from home—it’s small but soft!
After a quick orientation with Cami and Marie, my head teachers, we went to bed. Abby and I were out almost instantly.
Oh, by the way, I just got internet. We were having problems connecting for the first day but finally figured it out. I have internet connection in my room, so I have easy access to it. Plus, my adapter works but there is also an American plug in the wall that works with all of my American plugs, which is handy. I will send pictures of everything to be put on my blog (andchocolatetoo.blogspot.com) later; I will also write you about today (the 28th) later, because I’m exhausted from exploring and getting lost in the city (I’ll explain later, like I said) and Maren would like to use my internet connection before she hits the sack.
I have loved hearing back from some of you! I’d love to hear back from anyone.
I love and appreciate you all!
Sincerely,
Jillian
Friday, August 26, 2011
I Am In South Korea!
Written 3 hours ago:
I am currently sitting at my gate in the Incheon-Seoul International Airport, in South Korea. It's a huge airport, and with all the shops it has, I'm sure it would be a happening place if it wasn't 4:40AM here. Unfortunately, they're all closed now. Haha.
Oh goodness, today has been a wild adventure. So I met my group at the Salt Lake International Airport, and we chatted for a while. Then we boarded our flight to LAX; I had an aisle seat, which was better than a middle seat. It was a Boeing 757 and completely packed. I sat by Emily and Maren: Emily is 22 and Maren is 19. We had fun getting to know each other--though Maren is the girl with whom I stayed in Salt Lake the night before, and I already adored her. We left Salt Lake City at 8:45, right as the sun was setting behind the mountains. I've never seen such an incredible sunset: it was a mixture of fiery red and neon orange and black. It honestly appeared as if we were flying above a sea of red fire. The flight to LAX was about an hour and forty five minutes, but 15 minutes of that of flying over the sea of lights that is LA. LA spread out endlessly, proof that it is one of the largest cities in the USA.
Stepping out into LAX, I was bombarded by clouds—countless random walls with clouds on them, separating the cramped room with a low ceiling into lounges and airline gates. We were directed down winding hallways (still with low ceilings) that smelled of something like mold, and down staircases—not descending escalators, but actual flights of stairs. What with my heavy carry on and personal bag, I couldn’t believe that such a popular airport would be so inaccessible. My stomach sunk with a premonition that would soon prove itself.
Trying to stay together in the crowded hallways, my group fortunately made it onto our shuttle that would take us to the Korean Air gate. As I stepped outside, I literally choked on the smog. I could taste the pollution in the air, and I thought, “I could never live in a big city.” The traffic in the terminal was bad enough—I could hardly imagine what the traffic in the actual city must be like.
We checked in at Korean Airlines and received our boarding passes for Korea and Weihai. Proceeding to security, we were rushed into the congested lines by security officers. As I waited, I pulled out my laptop and liquids and then put them on the conveyor belt. As I stepped through security, I was told to wait for female assistance because I was wearing a maxi dress—a casual floor length dress—not because I had beeped. It took several minutes for them to locate a female security guard who could pat me down. After I had been patted down, the male officer told me that there was water in my reusable, stainless steel water bottle, and he would have to escort me out so I could dump out its contents before going through security again or he would confiscate it. (I had forgotten about the water in my bottle in the confusion of security.) I chose to be escorted out because my water bottle is very useful when I travel. After I poured out my water, the officer let me back in and to the front of the line, which was kind of him. However, after I walked through the scanner again, I had to be patted down another time. I was running out of time before I had to be at my gate, and I grew nervous.
When I was finally able to return to my group and my luggage, I discovered that security had broken the zipper on my carry on and it no longer closed—which meant I had to carry it from security to my gate to keep its contents from exploding out. I was also nervous that the airline would not allow me to travel with an open bag, and I couldn’t find anywhere that sold suitcases. (And yes, I cried a little; it was so frustrating, plus I was already nervous, plus I was going on six hours of sleep.) However, I asked a flight attendant and he assured me it would be okay, and even provided me with tape to wrap around my suitcase so it would stay closed. It’s quite a sight now.
It came time to board our 747, and the flight attendants on board told me where to go—in Korean. I did my best to follow their hand motions. I’m sure they spoke English, so I’m not sure why they would direct me places in Korean. I eventually found my seat, but there was no overhead room for my carry on by my seat, so I had to take it to the rear of the plane. My seat was in the middle of the middle aisle (there were three seats on the edges and four in the middle), but I had my own TV, headset, blanket, and pillow provided for me, and they perked me up quite a bit. I was just happy to be sitting down and settled in! My group was very understanding and helped me laugh at myself, which was what I needed. All this has just been my luck and in the end, I wasn’t surprised it had all happened to me. Haha.
We flew out of LAX at 11:50PM California time. Ahead of us was a 10 and a half hour flight. I spent it sleeping in awkward positions and watching Thor, Kung Fu Panda 2, and Rio. Kung Fu Panda and Rio were hilarious and well made, but Thor was only so so, in my opinion. There was also an option to listen to music so I listened to Train and Adam Lambert and Andy Grammer while I wrote in my journal. I hoped the Korean people on both sides of me only understood spoken English, not written. The woman to my left was very nice, and spoke good English. She was off to visit her mother in Korea.
About an hour into our flight, they fed us dinner. I had the option of some Korean dish, beef, or chicken. I chose chicken; I was tempted to try Korean, but the people around me were eating it and it looked very unappetizing, so I decided against it. An hour before landing, we were served breakfast. Mine was a Danish-like roll, yogurt, fruit, and a muffin. I’ve never had real meals on flights and so this was an interesting experience.
Although it was dark and I probably wouldn’t have been able to see anything if I had a window seat, I had hoped I would be able to look out the window at the ocean as we flew over. I do have a window seat to Weihai, so that should be exciting!
When we arrived at the Incheon-Seoul International airport, it was 4:26 Korean time, on August 27. I believe it’s either 12 or 16 hours ahead of MST (Mountain Standard Time) here; in Weihai it will be 14 hours ahead of MST.
Since I began this email, my group moved from our gate to the lounge, since we have a ten hour layover in Incheon. My flight for Weihai leaves at 2:45PM Korean time, and it’s 5:51AM now! It’s so weird to think that everyone back home is having a nice evening. Yesterday. Enjoy the 26th while you can! Flying cars still haven’t been invented by the 27th; believe me, I’d know. Hahaha.
I love everyone in my group. They are all so funny and kind and, as yet, we get along well. I always think the best way to make friends is to get all the grimy stuff done first—let them see you stinky and dog tired, and if they still love you and want to be around you, they’re keepers. Things seem to be looking up. Haha.
I ate breakfast at a Korean cafe called Ben & T: I had "noodles with a skewered dish." It had thick, long noodles in a broth with dumplings, a bread type thing, and a small slice of fish on a skewer. The dumplings tasted fishy--like seafood. I also had a small bowl of soy sauce for dipping and this strange orange thing-it looked like a slice of fruit but tasted awful, like gasoline. I asked a waiter what it was but he didn't know its name in English. I had to eat it all with chopsticks, which made the experience that much more awesome. I paid with Korean currency, having just exchanged a few dollars. I was surrounded by Koreans, all speaking Korean, eating Korean food, and I'm in Korea. I was euphoric; it was the coolest experience ever. I also bought some Korean chocolate. It's really nothing fancy, but it's chocolate! I plan on keeping some Korean currency as souvenirs, especially since the only things you can buy at the airport besides food are Versaci scarves and Bvlgari bags, for nothing less than a couple hundred US dollars each.
I'm content with cool coins.
I’m so close to my final destination! I can’t believe I’m in KOREA, and soon I’ll be in China. It’s mind boggling!
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Getting Ready to Leave for China
(Note: I will not be able to personally blog while in China, since blogging is banned over there. I will be sending emails with pictures to my sisters, who will then upload them to this blog.)
My dearest friends,
First of all, xiexie, thank you, so much for supporting me on this endeavor. I cannot express my gratitude enough for your encouragement and friendship.
I am currently in Utah, having finally packed and weighed all my suitcases. I had to leave some things that I brought with me from Colorado, because I'm already pushing my limits: I have about a pound of leeway. Here's to hoping Delta's scales are as accurate as the ones here.
I depart with several members of my Weihai group this evening at 8:15 from the Salt Lake International Airport. We will fly to LAX for a short layover, and then fly to Seoul, South Korea. We should arrive in Seoul about 4AM Seoul time (I'm still figuring out the time change--China is 14 hours behind--or ahead?--of MST) and so the airline is giving us a hotel. We depart from Seoul straight to the Weihai, Shandong, China airport at 2PM and should arrive in Weihai about 4PM.
I awoke this morning and thought, "I leave for China TODAY" and had a slight panic attack, but I'll be just fine. I've had the privilege of meeting a few of my fellow teachers and we all get along swimmingly, like we've known each other for years. That helps to calm my nerves.
I am very excited for this opportunity and can't wait to see what the next four months have in store for me! I will email again as soon as possible and keep you updated on my adventures whenever I have the time. I'm not exactly sure what my schedule will be like while I'm in China.
In any case, have a great weekend!
Sincerely,
Jillian Newell
My dearest friends,
First of all, xiexie, thank you, so much for supporting me on this endeavor. I cannot express my gratitude enough for your encouragement and friendship.
I am currently in Utah, having finally packed and weighed all my suitcases. I had to leave some things that I brought with me from Colorado, because I'm already pushing my limits: I have about a pound of leeway. Here's to hoping Delta's scales are as accurate as the ones here.
I depart with several members of my Weihai group this evening at 8:15 from the Salt Lake International Airport. We will fly to LAX for a short layover, and then fly to Seoul, South Korea. We should arrive in Seoul about 4AM Seoul time (I'm still figuring out the time change--China is 14 hours behind--or ahead?--of MST) and so the airline is giving us a hotel. We depart from Seoul straight to the Weihai, Shandong, China airport at 2PM and should arrive in Weihai about 4PM.
I awoke this morning and thought, "I leave for China TODAY" and had a slight panic attack, but I'll be just fine. I've had the privilege of meeting a few of my fellow teachers and we all get along swimmingly, like we've known each other for years. That helps to calm my nerves.
I am very excited for this opportunity and can't wait to see what the next four months have in store for me! I will email again as soon as possible and keep you updated on my adventures whenever I have the time. I'm not exactly sure what my schedule will be like while I'm in China.
In any case, have a great weekend!
Sincerely,
Jillian Newell
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