The Other Side - CovidSchooling in Beijing, China

An almost empty flight bound for Beijing in late January. Photo: Matt Prichard

A look at how parents, teachers and students around the world are coping with schooling during a global pandemic.

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NOTE: One thing we see with the coronavirus crisis is that the rules and expectations change daily, if not hourly. As I was doing the final edit of this article on the morning of Saturday, April 4 (Australian time), theBeijing teacher I had interviewed was changing her plans for the weekend and following week. I have kept the interview as planned, and added an update at the end. 

For those wondering why a different name was used, some of the teachers I spoke with (both in Asia and in Western countries) have requested anonymity as they don't want to be seen as speaking for their schools. I'm fine with that as it allows them to speak more freely.

When I first interviewed Anna (not her real name) at her home in Beijing, China, her 6-year-old daughter had a Zoom call scheduled with her class.

“But it’s not working very well,” Anna said. “I hate e-learning.”  

Her family comprises of herself, a secondary school teacher at an international school in the country’s capital; her husband who is self-employed in the hospitality industry; and their daughter. They also have an ayi – literally “aunt” in Chinese and the name given to domestic helpers – to assist.

Anna is on her second teaching stint in China, where she has notched up more than a decade, and she was in the country during the 2003 outbreak of severe acute respiratory syndrome, or SARS.

She says she became aware of this new coronavirus sometime in January when it was being reported in the news, and it became a topic of conversation.

“We heard, ‘oh, there’s a new mystery flu in Wuhan,’ and we started saying, ‘is this going to be another SARS?”

Schools e-mailed parents, explaining they were monitoring the situation and detailing the plans they had put in place, she says. A few days later, as they learned a little more, restrictions began to be placed on who could go on campus.

“There were some school events that got cancelled because they didn’t want parents on the campus. The parents that came in to pick up their kids were instructed to leave immediately and at morning drop of, they couldn’t come in.

“At that point, they were checking the temperature of everyone coming in, and asking people to put hand sanitiser on to come into the school.”

Following the lessons Asia learned during the SARS outbreak, “China got serious much faster this time,” Anna says.

“By January 24, they had shut down a city. Then a couple of days later, they had shut down the entire province of that city and started daily reporting how many cases there were. I think they learned from SARS, and also from other epidemics that have happened.”

Spring Festival, the Chinese New Year break during which millions of Chinese travel, was very early this year, falling on January 25. Anna and family were overseas, and extended their holiday for a few extra days, knowing that the life they returned to in Beijing would be very different.

“But I just wanted to be home,” she says. “This is home for us. I was finding it really hard teaching online from our holiday.”

Once home in Beijing, e-teaching didn’t become instantly easier. For the first three weeks, Anna felt she was doing a lot more work than in a normal school week, but it got easier as her school changed guidelines, she says.

The lack of face-to-face contact with students makes follow-up difficult and time-consuming, she says.

“You message the students, and you don’t hear back so you have to email, and copy the parents. A friend in Shanghai said the amount of work they’re doing just chasing up kids constantly is insane. Every day, they’re following up with kids and it’s so much work.”

As for teaching her daughter, Anna says she has cried “so much” while trying to teach her.

“It is incredibly hard. I hate it. Because it’s hard to give all my attention to work [teaching], and it’s hard to give all my attention to school. She always wants something. She always needs me.

“She’s six, so she has a hard time focusing. At first, she was really excited that mom was going to be her teacher. But the reality set in and there were so many changes those first few weeks, of what e-learning was going to look like for our school, that it got difficult to keep up.

“It’s hard for me to sit down with her because a lot of the times, her Zoom calls are at the same times as I have classes. I can’t sit down with her to do her work when I have to do my own.

She and her husband “gave up” on the assigned lessons but read books with their daughter each day and use math resources they have. Anna hopes to have more time later to catch her daughter up with her proscribed learning. The 6-year-old also gets Chinese practice with the ayi and her friends, and sometimes watches Chinese TV.”

China did not put the capital, Beijing, into lockdown, but enforced social distancing and people were asked to stay home.

“Most people stayed home because they didn’t want to get the virus” Anna says, and the compliance with the request was also partly cultural.

In China, “it’s more about the collective good than the individual good. I think that’s why some of the Western countries have had a harder time with it, because you take care of yourself first, before the collective.

“But in a lot of Asian countries, like China and South Korea, it’s more about the collective and the common good.

People didn’t like staying in their apartments but did, regardless, she says. Another factor was that when the situation became severe in Wuhan, some residents were locked into their apartments, so there was a sense in Beijing of staying in voluntarily rather than being forced to.

Beijingers now feel the worst is over and people can relax, and are going out more, while all wearing masks.

Since our first interview last week, Beijing has announced seniors could return to school from April 27, with a full return taking place grade by grade. There are many new rules and safeguards in place.

“Hours are restricted to 9:30 to 3:30,” Anna says. “Students have to stay one meter apart at all times. Everyone must wear masks at all times. The windows have to stay open.

“Right now I have to start reporting my temperature twice a day through a survey on our school WeChat account. If I do not do 14 consecutive days I will not be allowed to return yet. The school has to be inspected multiple times before they officially allow us to have our students back on campus.

“So it looks like I will be working on campus to teach one class in person, and teaching the rest of my classes from a classroom or office but remotely. There are still a lot of kinks being worked out.”

UPDATE, 18/04/2020

Anna was informed by her school on Friday night that she would be expected on campus on Monday, to teach remotely from the school, and sent training that needed to be completed first over the weekend.

She says she had “kinda been wanting for this anyway” as it had been so hard to work at home with her daughter present and incredibly uncomfortable chairs.

“I’m looking forward to getting back to my school and my ergonomic desk chair, and just being in the environment that makes me want to be a teacher, and not the environment that makes me want to relax and get out in my yard, and start crocheting and knitting.”

Once more into the breach . . .

It is only as I went to write this that I realized how long it is since I posted here. There was no specific reason for my silence, though many secondary causes. Primarily though, I've been really busy living life and let this slip by the way. I'll try to do better . . .

For those who don't know, I'm still in China and still liking being here more often than I dislike it. Work is going well and I love the people I work with, and I've been traveling a lot more lately, mainly for work but also on my own. In the past few months, I've visited Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam, and in China, Xi'an (home of the Terracotta Warriors, which I skipped in favor of outdoor adventure and will blog soon), Zhanjiang in Guangdong province and a number of cities in Shanxi province. The latter two were for work so involved long days, many banquets and much article writing to follow.

I've also restarted studying Chinese as, although I can get by without it, now I'm traveling more I want to have more communication with locals. I'm also buying a motorcycle this month so will travel more around Beijing and will need better language skills when visiting nearby villages. Studying for the license in Chinglish is a story in itself!

This week, from Oct 1 through 8, is Golden Week, when much of China has a week off after National Day and many people travel to their hometowns, but I decided to have a staycation in Beijing. Not totally tho, as I've been asked to do a couple of stories in Tianjin, which is less than an hour away by high-speed rail, so I'll head there Monday to stay in a luxurious hotel and pretend I'm accustomed to such a life.

For tonight, I'm off to a fabulous Peruvian pop-up restaurant run by friends to enjoy excellent ceviche and Pisco sours with other friends before they close for the cooler months.

To prove I have actually been working, I leave you with a profile I did on a fabulous Italian chef-slash-nuclear engineer. Beijing is full of such interesting people.

Smelling the roses . . .

Sometimes it's the unplanned days that give the most pleasure . . .

Life has been busy of late. Work has entailed changes that, as changes do, need time to learn and master. I'm back at the gym and making that a priority on my free time schedule while also fitting in errands and shopping that take time, particularly when you use a cycle and are so fussy you have to go all over the city to get your weekly groceries (not a chore by any means - I love exploring the city but it does take time).

Today's schedule was to take a friend to a framer another friend and I found last week, and have watercolors I bought back from Paris mounted and framed. I then planned to spend all afternoon at the gym and pool before dinner with other friends.

I'm glad I was flexible.

We had coffee and lunch after visiting the framer then went for a walk, which took us to Beihai Park near Beijing's Forbidden City. I had been there before and told my friend about it, including a dancing group I'd seen there, and she asked if I would mind if we went in for a short while.

I'm so glad we did and that I didn't hold myself to my gym commitment.

Instead, we walked, laughed, watched locals ice-skating, playing in ice-bumper cars, boats and all manner of contraptions, watched the dancers and climbed the hill to see the view from the park's White Pagoda.

Watched the dancers,

nd enjoyed an unplanned, unmapped, unfettered day of pure fun.

There was also a gorgeous cat that allowed me to stroke its ears and a busker who looked (a little) like Jackie Chan on the subway (which I NEVER take but am glad I did today).

Next comes dinner . . .

perhaps this is what Jaycee Chan is reduced to after his drug bust???

The Power of the Press . . .

I'm not sure about other writers, but in this world of citizen journalism, social media mediation and falling print numbers, I often feel I am only writing for myself, my subjects and their immediate whanau, and my paycheck. (None of which are worthless)

Then, occasionally, I get reminded that other people read and comprehend what I write . . .

I wrote a profile on an amazing Irish artist back in June, and went away feeling I could have written SO much more, but I'm limited to a word count for the paper. I could have easily written a magazine article from the interview and the person.

This week, Niamh contacted me to tell me that a director at CCTV, China's major TV station, read the article and was intrigued and contacted her. CCTV is now filming a 30-minute documentary on Niamh preparing for her solo show. The exhibition venue has also been upgraded.

The funny, funny thing - the documentary on preparing for her show is really getting in the way of, you know, PREPARING for her show.

Well done Niamh, I will be at the opening . . .

Kiwi in the kitchen . . .

just a quick link to my first article for China Daily

I am astonished by the food level here - better than Korea, and I am not sure why that surprises me . . .

Future Adventures, Part V . . .

It's been a reasonably quiet month as I settled into the job and neighborhood a little more. I did walk to the Lama Temple to take photos one morning but otherwise have avoided exploring overly much as the air hasn't looked very inviting.

My first guest helped me sort out what I need to be an adequate host and a dear friend, the Divine Ms. T, arrives Friday for a 10-day visit, during which we plan to visit the Great Wall (in a heatwave, no less, but will take plenty of water), see Cirque du Soleil, go to lots of markets and other tourist spots and eat great food. She also plans a trip to Henan to see the Shaolin Temple and the Longmen Grottoes - my weekends are already booked while she is here so I can't accompany her but I'm trying to talk other friends into visiting so we can do that at a later time. It sounds great - an overnight train trip, a driver/guide for a full day in Henan then back to Beijing on another overnight train.

Other friends from Jeju Island will also be passing through town during the next two weeks so I hope to see them also.

Which means I'd best finish up the Lonely Planet recommended Top 30 Experiences before venturing out to compile my own list.

26. Pingyao, Shanxi

This walled town is yet another of China's entry's on UNESCO's World Heritage List. (There are 45 sites on the list, so I'm not too surprised many of the LP picks are there.)

Unesco says it is an exceptionally well-preserved example of a traditional Han Chinese city, LP says there's not another city in China like it. I may need a few more reasons to put it on my travel plan.

27. Hiking in Jiuzhaigou National Park, Sichuan

Another Unesco site, would you believe, with a number of endangered species, including the Giant Panda. It certainly looks beautiful, as seen in the photo gallery with this National Geographic article (you need to join to see the full article but there is no fee). Even better, since 2009, eco-tours have been available to take you off the the tourist filled boardwalks. I prefer to hike without a guide but in a country as populous as this, appreciate the need to have a monitor in such a place.

I'll go here if I have the time.

28. Chinese Acrobatics

This is one of the suggestions I can take or leave, primarily because it's possible to see outside of China as well. There is a well-known theater not far from me so I may end up going there at some stage,  but it's not on my must-see list. Perhaps the LP writers were getting a little tired at this point.

29. Cruising up Victoria Harbour, Hong Kong

I love Hong Kong, but I don't necessarily need to visit it from Beijing, and it may be easier to do so from elsewhere. I've visited there a few times and am sure to do so again so don't need to try to fit it into my time working here (if only work didn't get in the way of my holidays so often).

30. Beijing's Hutong

These narrow alleyways can be found in much of inner Beijing and range from crowded shantytowns, many of which are due to be torn down and replaced, to upmarket areas with bars, businesses and eating places in teh restored one-story houses. Many expats choose to live in the hutong and a friend who has been here some time has promised to take me exploring those near where she lives.

So that's it - the LP recommendations perused, considered, accepted, rejected or put in the, "If I have time" file.

Stay tuned for more on the adventure as it happens . . .

Tea and Sympathy . . .

It's the rainy season here in North China, although South China is experiencing a heat wave and droughts, and I woke this morning to another day of constant rain. I was tempted to have a lazy day and stay indoors but broke the top of my glass teapot so decided to venture to Sihui market again to buy a replacement and stock up on some tea. Sihui is a huge market that has it all, including a meat market, a tea market, spices, clothing and household goods, and seems to be a supplier to hotels and restaurants as well as the individuals who go there. I went there last week to purchase linens and bath mats for my apartment and left with a teapot also that was exactly what I'd been looking for at a fraction of the price I'd seen elsewhere (25 kwai rather than 200 and up). At that price, I didn't mind making the trip to replace it.

The shopkeeper recognized me from last week, which probably isn't too surprising as I didn't see another foreign face on either trip, so poured me a small glass cup of green tea (the cup was almost a shot size, but far more elegant) and gestured for me to sit down. Again not surprisingly, she had next to no English and my Putonghua is still non-existent (I keep answering in Korean by accident) so our transaction was conducted mainly in mime, with a few quick looks at my phrase book or referral to my Pleco app. But we got along swimmingly.

I wanted to buy some loose tea as well, and had established last week that she didn't stock chamomile, so I settled on chrysanthemum, of which she had several different types, sorted according to the age and quality of the flowers. I chose some small, high-quality flowers and she told me the price per kilo. A kilo is a lot of tea but, as I said, these markets deal with a lot of wholesale customers. She understood the English for half, but not quarter, so we settled on half-half and she showed me the .25 weight on her scales as she scooped it into a bag for me. She then offered another flower I have yet to work out (the name sounded like huanggang but huang simply means yellow so I'll look more carefully at it once I return home). I wasn't sure so she brewed a pot of the two mixed for me to taste.

And introduced me to the Art of Tea - a serious business in China.

Having read about the Art of Tea on a friend's blog, I already knew brewing tea was an act of ceremony and it was here also, even though performed in a brisker fashion for this laowai. The flowers were placed in a pot and hot water added, then the first brew was poured out on the tea pets.

The tea tray, with tea pets in front left corner

Yes, I said tea pets.

As explained in Brian's blog:

A tea pet symbolises wealth and fortune and is basically a small work of art made of different kinds of clay, just like the tea pots, and is normally placed on a tea tray. During the ceremony, tea is poured over them and over time they darken and mature into …errr… darker and more mature – and even coloured and shiny – tea pets! (I told you it was messy!) Many people have large collections of them. A popular type is Jinchan (a type of three-legged toad, which is said to be able to spit out money - perhaps because it sounds like jinqian - meaning money!

Being an animal lover, I was happy to meet some tea pets myself.

She then refilled the pot, let it sit a little, then poured me a  cup of the tea, which did taste much better than chrysanthemum on its own. She then explained, mainly with gestures and examples, that if I refilled the water more than three times, I should remove or replace the yellow flowers after the third time. And, because I had explained when I arrived that I had broken the lid of last week's teapot, she also told me to hold the top on when I poured my tea. I shall obey both directions faithfully.

I bought 250 grams of the yellow flowers also, paid and thanked her and headed home with a quick stop at the spice store for a large tub of Tom Yum paste.

I could easily start collecting teapots living here.

  
Another successful mission in The China Project . . .


NB: "Tea and Sympathy" is one of my favorite Janis Ian songs, of which the lyrics are particularly meaningful to me right now.

The winter unpack . . .

One of the amazing staff members from our international office called this morning to tell me I had packages (she actually said a package but I was expecting the plural so misheard her). I asked for a trolley, which she borrowed from the construction team on the sixth floor, and went across expecting to collect the things I left at a friend’s home in Seoul last week and he shipped earlier this week with an arrival date of today.

Instead, I found the box I shipped before I left, “slow shipping” that the post office told me would take two months.

I’m excited about what I thought I would need but could wait on til then, have given up on live blogging on the iPhone, so will do a delayed live blog here.

Going for the scissors . . .

I open it and the first things I see are my cowgal boots, hot water bottle, favorite scarf, Korean wine bottle covers from Barbara and Cheryl Scott and my wish book. All good, but I may have to buy some wine (and not drink it) for the covers. [Which reminds me, beloved, do you still have my bottle of wine? It’s special and needs to be sent somewhere.] I also have to make Fred’s second hot water bottle cover – even if he gives it away to a cat again.

This is becoming like an excavation – I remove the top layer and find more. More scarves, all with memories. And a book that a wonderful, unexpected friend sent me about Kiwis called “Fly” – thank you Kelly, it will go on my wall. And the Good Neighbor Awards booklet – I left the big-ass plaque with a friend but it’s nice to have a reminder. And [by the way, readers, as an editor, I abhor starting sentences with “and’” or “but.” But this is a blog] “The No-Excuses Cookbook” my cuzzy-sis Tania gave me. Memories are made of this . . .

All filed – time for the next layer.

A galot skirt I bought from a designer I interviewed and fell in love with on Jeju-do. A pair of winter pjs I picked up from the Thrift Shop and a crocheted skirt that is far too young for me, but what the hey. You only live once and I like it. It looks great over thick tights in winter.

Next layer, and there’s the thing I’ve been waiting for. Everyone has told me how cold it gets here in winter and that I need a good jacket, I just unpacked and hung my quilted London Fog jacket – I think I’ll survive the cold, if not the smog.

Next layer – shorts, yoga pants, my favorite suede jacket and a pair of skorts. The shorts, yoga pants and skorts aren’t for winter exactly, but I gained weight in my last two months in Korea and knew I would lose it when happy (note to Stuart, alcohol doesn’t solve problems, but it does let you put them on hold until you can solve them).

The next layer is much more exciting. The Harley Owners Group Touring Handbook Bill gave me when I borrowed/stole his brother’s bike and did 6,000 miles in three months (Bill is part of my US family and considers me a hobo or carpetbagger, which is probably correct), a favorite top I bought at Portobello Market in London and another fave I bought in Indonesia. Plus a few other things I love, a cotton top that will be perfect for Beijing’s heat, a skirt that is business-like so useful, and a dress that works for summer or winter..

Time for the last layer.

Another quilted jacket (I do think ahead sometimes), and a sequined cocktail dress (because every female motorcycle rider needs a sequined cocktail dress). Plus a “Power Strip” (workout thing, so I can fit the skorts again), a very old diary, “The Complete Yachtmaster” by Tom Cunliffe (just in case I decide to run away to sea again), and the big-ass medal the four star gave me in Seoul and I thought I had lost.

I didn’t lose it – I packed it!

Looking forward to the other boxes . . .

Tranquility amongst the throngs . . .

Yesterday, I decided it was time to take a break from my shopping tour and see some of historical Beijing. After days of heavy, haze-filled skies, we had heavy downpours throughout the previous day and night and I woke to beautifully clear skies with the sun shining – perfect weather for exploring the city’s grandeur. What could be grander, I thought, than the Forbidden City, which the Lonely Planet guide has listed as No. 3 on it’s 30 Top Experiences.

(And yes, I still have to write up No.s 21 thru 30, and I plan to get on to that this week.)

Beijing’s subway and bus networks are well laid out and simple to use, as long as you know where you wish to go. All stops are announced in Mandarin, which the Chinese call Putonghua (common speech), and English and every bus stop has a name, as do all the subway stations, obviously. The nearest subway station to my home is a transfer between two lines, which gives me multiple options of how to get to and from different places.

From here to the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square is simply eight stops south, a quick line transfer and two or three stops west, depending on which side you wish to approach the two from. (Everyone gives directions in terms of compass points here and the exits from the subway stops are also labeled that way, making it easy to guess the correct exit once you have your bearings.)

So, about 1030 on a Tuesday morning, I hopped the subway to Tiananmen East, and exited on the Forbidden City side of the street to hordes of people. And I do mean hordes, there were tour groups everywhere, school groups from all over the world, families with children and the occasional independent traveler like me. Exiting the steps from the subway was an exercise in itself, as waiting for the throng were vendors selling maps, water, food, ice blocks, trinkets, hats of many kinds and traditional Chinese dress style headbands. Plus many, mainly young, Chinese offering tours of the Forbidden City in fluent English and many other tongues. I’m an old hand at turning down such offers unless I really want to avail myself of them, so simply smiled, held up my hand and said xiexie, wo bu yao (thank you, no). I’d already decided I would use an audio tour for the site, as I could easily ignore that if I wished. 

Leaving the subway

The first thing one comes across is Tiananmen itself, for which the square opposite is named. The name Tiananmen is made up of the Chinese characters for “heaven,” “gate” and “peace,” therefore in English it is known as The Gate of Heavenly Peace, although the original Chinese name is longer and has its own history attached. It’s an impressive building - 66 meters long, 37 m wide and 32 m high, with a portrait of Mao Zedong above the main archway and large red flags flying at either end. The largest and center of five archways was used only for Ming and Qing emperors while the smaller ancillary arches were used by ministers and officials.  A moat in front of the gate is crossed by carved marble bridges, with the widest central bridge again reserved for the emperor.

It's possible to climb the tower above the gate for a small fee, but free to walk through to the Forbidden City which sits nestled behind.  I decided to leave the tower for another visit and headed through the gate with the crowd, wondering if it was some sort of holiday as there seemed to be many school-age children visiting. Chinese use umbrellas to protect them from the sun, so avoiding a spike in the head or eye required full vigilance. 

 

Crossing the moat to walk through Tiananmen

 Once inside and across the forecourt to where one buys tickets for the Palace Museum, as the Forbidden City is known, I realized it was too hot to wait in such a long, slow-moving line so decided to explore the surrounding area instead. To the east was an extension of the Palace Moat, where I was slightly tempted to don traditional garb and have my photo taken, while on the west I found Zhongshan Park, where there was no queue for tickets (Y3/48 cents admission, Y5/80 cents if you wanted to see the flower exhibitions also). I paid my 5 kwai and walked through the gate, where I found my own version of heavenly peace - just a few people meandering through lush gardens, relaxing in pagodas or cruising on the water in peddle- or battery-powered boats. I was thrilled to find such a tranquil spot in the very center of this bustling city.

A close-up of a building outside the Palace Museum

A wall of the Forbidden City

The moat to the east

Inside Zhongshan Park

Chinese opera singers accompanied by a piano accordion - I also saw a couple playing hulusi - an instrument with three bamboo pipes that pass through a gourdwind chest. It felt rude to photograph them so I simply enjoyed the music.

Detail of one of the many gateways

lotus pool

the Waterside Plants Pavilion

I spent a peaceful few hours strolling around the park and will no doubt go there for some peace when the city center gets too crowded for me, and plan to go boating there with a friend who is coming to visit in August.

I will return to tour the Forbidden City, but plan to do so early in a bid to beat the worst of the crowds, which I have been told will continue throughout the summer.

The Dorm . . .

Part of the employment package here is housing, complete with furnishings and utilities. A friend worked here many years ago so I’d already seen what was on offer and I do like my new place. I like it most because it is mine. (Yes, I do realize it isn’t really, but read on.)

Sometimes (most times?), I’m the world’s best chameleon, or perhaps a cuckoo. I learned the skill while young. When you grow up in a dysfunctional household, you learn to find other places to be safe. My older brother turned to God, the next older brother turned to crime and charm, we all found our own ways to survive. (Irish families tend to tend toward God and crime, when you merge the two, you get to work at the Vatican.) I made myself welcome at friends’ homes, where their parents were happy they had a friend with such nice manners. I watched, listened, and learned to fit in.

It’s a skill that has served me well in my subsequent travels.

I’ve never really felt at home though. I’ve always (almost always) been welcome and I have homes all over the world that I am part of, but they belong to someone else. So I watch, listen, and bring to the table the version of myself that best fits the environment. I don’t even realize I’m doing it most times, it’s an unconscious survival technique, but it works. It’s taken me across oceans, countries and professions, and won me surrogate family across the world, but it’s always been someone else’s home.

This home is mine. Not technically, of course, it belongs to my employer, so probably belongs to the State, but it’s mine as long as I do my job competently. I plan to do my job much better than competently, so this is mine while I do. And I like it.

I have a good friend who teaches at Hanguk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul and she lives in also, and she has half the area I have, plus has to pay her own utilities (if you’re monitoring this, dear employer, please don’t get any ideas). I’m in the same complex as the paper (two minutes walk) and in a 10-story “Foreign Expert Building.” With seven apartments on each floor, that’s a good number of foreign experts, but I don’t know my own neighbors yet. I do know the cool kids and the problem children – those are the ones to meet first.

So, welcome to my home. I’m on the 7^th floor and overlook a middle/high school, which is kinda cool. I especially like the sports days – having grown up watching Chinese gymnasts on TV, I expected it to be an innate trait. It isn’t. Chinese youngsters are just as clumsy as the young of every other species, but I like that they laugh with each other when they fail to achieve the elegant dismount from the parallel bars (I like even more that the gym teacher smiles and pats them on the back for trying).

I have a large fridge/freezer, which I am covering with pictures. There’s a Ranger banner on the front that I was given at the VFW in Leesville, Louisiana, and pics from Bonnie and Granddot that were waiting for me when I arrived. Also some pics from a palace in Korea that I wrote a story for before I left. I went to IKEA yesterday and bought containers so I now have food in there also. The freezer? So far, just vegetable scraps to make stock for soups – I hear it gets kinda cold here in winter.

Then we have the kitchen. I may need to purchase more storage space here. It came with utensils and a pot or two, but few people cook here so I’ve already replaced a few things. I cooked last night for my Seednee friends, which needed a new wok and some kitchen tools. It’s a little less than I would design, but I can do dinner on a camp stove if needed, so can cope with this. Let’s call it a work in progress.

Bathroom – adequate, I need to replace the skanky shower curtain and get the fan fixed.

Spare room – where I will sleep when visitors vist – two large bookcases, writing desk, coffee table, sofa, flat screen TV. I tested the sofa by lying on it to see if it was comfortable enough to sleep on, and promptly fell asleep. I guess that’s a “yes.” I haven’t worked out the TV yet, but just noticed it isn’t plugged in – could that be the reason it doesn’t work? Oh, I forgot, curtains and air conditioning, this is okay.

My room – a king size bed, two bedside cabinets and two huge closets. And air con.

A colleague told me I could choose to live out and get a housing allowance instead of staying in “the dorm.” I see no reason to do so and have to negotiate all that is involved in paying rent and utilities in a language I don’t yet know, and until I do, the comfort of living in works for me.

Accepting guests, if anyone wants to visit . . .  

Beijing Shopping 101 . . .

With all the costs involved in relocating from Korea to China, I’ve arrived here with enough to get by until my first payday, but with a need to be frugal. That has not only been easy to do here, but has turned out to be a great thing as I have spent my first few weeks perusing the many markets and stores making notes and comparing prices, rather than simply buying the first item I see and regretting it when I find a much better deal. I’m also taking notes and making lists for the friends who come to visit so I can steer them to the best places for whatever it is they want to buy, see or do.

Again, my colleague Brian, who leaves Monday, has been an enormous help not only with directions to the places the Chinese go to shop, rather than the more expensive Western haunts, but by demystifying Beijing’s bus system for me. The city also has an excellent subway system, but traveling by bus allows me to get more of a sense of where I am and the ability to more easily navigate the city. That will be crucial if I do decide to buy a motorbike here but, for now, I prefer to travel by foot and bus where possible, so I have the time to observe and become part of my new environment.

On Tuesday, on my first bus ride, Brian escorted me to a food market at Liangmaqiao where we didn’t see another Westerner but where many of the vendors knew him. He pointed out the best stalls to buy mushrooms (so many varieties to be had), vegetables, foreign food items (yes, there are some things I can’t do without), fish, chicken and pork. There is also a fantastic fruit store immediately opposite that also sells nuts and seeds. All only 5 stops from my home by bus, at the cost of only 1 or 2 kwai (the local word for yuan or renminbi, with 1 kwai being equal to about 16 cents US). 

I was initially impressed that the small supermarket right near the China Daily complex had such a good selection of things, but have now found a hypermarket (Wu Mart) 15 minutes walk away and an upmarket Japanese department store with supermarket (Ito Yokado) another five minutes beyond that. There’s a Carrefour four bus stops away in one direction and an Ikea six stops away in another. I’ve spent much of this week walking up and down aisles seeing what each place stocks and noting down prices. Wu Mart is where I’ll do most of my day to day shopping and Ito Yokado is a good option for special treats. Carrefour and Ikea both have things I plan to buy, including imported food items, but I also have a Chinese market that sells household goods, clothes and shoes to check out, now that I’ve noted the prices in the stores.

One thing I’ve been blown away by is the selection of fresh produce available here. I’d been worried about what I could eat before I arrived, and listened to and read too many horror stories of what I daren’t eat. Some of them were sensible, and I’ll no doubt continue to avoid street food, but there is so much else available. My breakfast each morning, despite watching my kwai, has been fresh fruit – always mango, lychees and blueberries plus either nectarine, peach, banana or whatever looks best and is cheapest when I’m buying and yoghurt. Lunch is either a quick stirfry of vegetables or a sandwich or wrap and most nights I eat dinner at the canteen, which is reasonably healthy, tasty and, best of all, free (we get one free meal there a day, Monday to Friday). 

A typical breakfast tray, before preparation

Tomorrow will be my first time cooking dinner here for friends, the Australian couple who live one floor down from me, and I look forward to visiting the market to get all I need to make a Thai vegetable curry -- mushrooms, eggplant, green or snake beans, tomatoes and maybe some squash -- and fresh fruit to follow.

the vege vendor at the market

the mushroom lady's offerings

a selection of tomato types at Carrefour

part of the fruit selection at Carrefour

This is a gourmand’s paradise, at least in summer, and I look forward to making yummy soups to keep me warm through winter.

One week in . . .

It’s been just over a week since I landed in Beijing, something I realized yesterday when the morning routine in the schoolyard my apartment watches over changed. Each weekday morning, I’ve watched the school assemble for mass calisthenics, coached by a teacher on the stage, pepped up by a few of their peers joining him to lead the routines and overseen by what must be class leaders or monitors, fellow who wear armbands and stand at the front of each group observing (perhaps not completely the synchronized fun I first took this for, but I’m still all for the daily exercises).

Yesterday was different, and a colleague whose apartment also oversees the school told me each Monday is the same. This time, when the music announced assembly (the day is broken up by musical interludes, which I guess mark different lesson times or breaks – they continue into the evening but the school also continues into the evening, with what look to be classes or meetings of adults), it was for a more solemn occasion. The students again formed into lines before the stage, but this time the national anthem (I assume) was played as three students raised the national flag behind the stage. There was then a type of prize-giving ceremony, with some students called to the stage where they were given what appeared to be a certificate of some sort.

It’s interesting being here as an observer, especially at this stage when I have almost none of the language with which to communicate, and I can’t help but compare and contrast what I see and am told with Korea, as well as other countries in which I have lived and traveled. I watch the students as they play and interact in the schoolyard and on the street, watch the men (it always seems to be men) play board games on the street (yesterday I passed two who had used broken brick to draw a board on the road and were using pieces of brick and torn up paper as their pieces), the grandparents and parents play with the children and family members care for the elderly. Much of life is lived on the streets, particularly in the heat of summer, and the many parks near my home and further afield are filled with people playing, talking, exercising or simply resting in the shade. Of course, there is also food everywhere, from fully-decked restaurants through shop-front eateries, take-out windows and street vendors. (There’s going to be a lot of blog posts about food – it’s an important part of my life.) It’s not unusual to see a couple or group find makeshift chairs and picnic on the sidewalk or wherever they happen to be.

Beijing is chaotic, noisy and undeniably dirty, but I feel very much at home here. There’s not the sense of pali, pali (hurry, hurry) one finds in Korea, nor do I sense the same anxiety one often encounters there. If I were to describe how the Chinese I have seen appear to live their lives, and this is definitely only a first impression, I would say they do so with gusto. They seem to grab this crazy world we all share and try to squeeze every last drop from it. I’ll be the first to admit that can cause a multitude of its own problems, but I see every day in the stories we run how the country as a whole is trying to come to terms with itself and apply reasonable limits. I watch the process with great interest.

Perhaps that is why I feel so at home here, apart from the welcome and professionalism I have experienced from my colleagues and work superiors – I am by nature an observer and there is so much to observe here. One friend teased me, when I announced I was moving here, that only I “could see moving to China as the route to freedom. Or sweetness, or even taste.” But so far, that is exactly what I am finding, the freedom to be myself without expectations from anyone else, because I am completely unknown, the freedom to work well and to the best of my ability, because that is why I was employed (it’s a sad indictment of many workplaces that that is often not the case) and the freedom and inspiration to write. As for sweetness, I find that each day in my interactions with my Chinese colleagues, neighbors and strangers on the street, who are often transformed by a simple smile and greeting from this laowai who can’t even speak their language, in watching workmates practice Tai Chi in our beautiful garden or Chinese practice in the park, and in watching the families care for each other and spend quality time together.

As for taste, that’s a whole other blog or 50, but suffice to say, I’m living well and loving life.

Positive vibes . . .

I have a sweet, young Korean friend who is about to head overseas to study and is, understandably, a little worried about leaving her home, family and friends for the unknown (and Canada seems a scary place, judging by some of the bears I’ve met from there). I and other more-traveled friends (that makes us sound shop-worn) have been reassuring her that good people attract good people and she is very definitely good people.


Another dear friend, who is neither sweet nor young but very dear to me, worried about my own decision to move to China. So too did many of my acquaintances, but most of my friends understood the move to be a positive step and one that would continue my adventure. That friend’s life experiences are vastly different than my own and I can understand why he tends to look for the danger in people and things, rather than the good and opportunities.

As for me, I not only believe good people attract good people (and I am far from good, often) but that if you expect the universe to treat you well, then it will, at least for the majority of the time. The times that it doesn’t, in my view, are just a necessary dark backdrop to set off the brilliance of when it does. If life were perfect, we’d neglect to notice how good it is and I, for one, would get bored very quickly.

All of which is a long lead in to the fact that the Kiwi-cat seems to have landed on her feet yet again.

Job-wise, I am still highly impressed by the professionalism and caring of the people I am working for and I look forward to quickly learning the quirks of the system and the style wanted so I can repay their appreciation of me.

Personally, I’ve already met some amazing people, a few of whom I can already tell will become lifetime friends. I sat with one of my colleagues at dinner my first night working (we have a canteen that serves reasonably good food, if you like Chinese, of course, with lots of vegetable dishes and fruit to end each meal) and met another colleague who will leave at the end of this week. He offered me his ironing board and some guide books and maps and steered me to his blog if I want to venture off the beaten path. As a fellow traveler, writer, journalist, blogger and adventurer, we recognized each other as like minds and he spent the time to give me excellent directions to many places tourists seldom go, as well as his personal phrase book/bus compendium that he put together over his two years here. I’m starting off ahead of the crowd already.

Another two people I was lucky to have arrived just after, so we spent much of the week together as the staff took us to do medical checks, get phones, Internet, bank accounts and other necessities, lived here about 18 months ago so know the employer, job, neighborhood, city and much of the country. They’re also Australian, so we speak the same language. I’ve just returned home from an enjoyable day with them where we ventured out in the rain with one minor mission in mind and a more major mission to explore and have fun. Which we did, amazingly well. After almost six hours of walking, herbal tea and a light lunch at an amazing restaurant to which I plan to take my house guests (don’t forget to book, friends – first come, first hosted), I’m at home tired and hungry, but very content.

Time to make some dinner, then a little light reading before I fall into bed . . .

Hot and sour soup at Xiaowang’s Home Restaurant in RiTan Park. The single person serving came in a tureen so small I felt I was at a doll’s tea party, but it was just enough for a snack and wonderfully tasty.

Synchronized Fun . . .

On my first morning living in Beijing, I went on an early morning walk, exploring the neighborhood that will be my home for the next year and possibly longer. I saw one local shepherding his two young daughters out of their apartment, one wearing a fairy princess dress as if she was going to a party. I’d noticed when I visited China before that families, and especially children, are very important here. In that, they don’t differ much from Koreans, but the Chinese seem to make more time to play with their kids. My first and most lasting memory of Tiananmen Square in person was of the many family groups flying kites together.

A little later on my first full day, while on my way to the local supermarket for more of the necessities one needs when setting up a new home, I heard loud music and saw a crowd of people gathered on the street. I joined them, expecting to see a party, but instead found the local kindergarten doing their morning exercises, with almost perfect choreography. The most noticeable thing, as they ran and danced and jumped, was the huge grin on each child’s face. This was no mass calisthenics a la the southern neighbor’s Mass games, but a game the children were enjoying and a great way to get them exercising at an early age.

This morning, my second day of waking here, I saw a similar thing at the high school that my 7^th Floor apartment overlooks. I had wondered what the structure in front of the basketball courts was, and realized this morning it is a stage. What appeared to be the whole school was doing routines together, some led by their student peers on the stage. Imagine, if you can, a cheerleading practice that includes the entire school, not just the “cool” kids.

I have yet to visit one of the parks that hosts morning tai chi routines but have seen many Chinese and others doing the same thing in Sydney parks, and hope very much to find somewhere that has the Chi Kung (Qigong) form I used to practice myself while in Sydney. I’ll happily join the group for that . . .

All's well on the Eastern Front . . .

Dusk is falling on my first afternoon in China. The streets are teeming with people eating out and the yard of the China Daily has families playing. A young girl is playing badminton with her grandmother while two small boys play with their trains while their mothers chat – one has the classic Thomas while the other has a sleek hi-tech hi-speed model.

I arrived about 1430 after a mildly turbulent but uneventful two-hour flight from Seoul – probably the shortest distance traveled to get here by any of the foreign experts, I was told. (I’ve gone from being a registered alien in Korea to a foreign expert here and it certainly feels like a promotion, so far.) Jingwei, the admin girl I’ve been communicating with to arrange everything met me at the airport with a car and driver – another sign I’ll be valued more here than at my last gig.

 My apartment is a little tattier than I expected but is perfectly serviceable, once I work out a few logistical problems. The last occupant obviously had a cat and wasn’t too hot on cleaning so my first trip to the supermarket just down the block was to stock up on cleaning supplies. I’m working my way through cleaning the rooms one at a time – the bedroom and spare room/living room/study are reasonable but the kitchen needed a good scrub and all the floors needed sweeping. Browsing the market also made me realize I probably do need to learn more Chinese than I did Korean, just to know what I’m buying.

I’ll probably do a lot of my own cooking once I’m content with the state of my kitchen, and was pleasantly surprised at the variety of fruit and produce available. Lots of amazing sauces, also, some of which I recognize, so I’ll have no problem doing stir-frys that are heavy on the veg component.

I’d been impressed with the professionalism of everyone on staff I’d spoken to and dealt with since I was first considered for the job, and today has only made me more so. Jingwei had stocked the fridge with bottled water, milk, bread, sausage and pears, and also bought some ramen, a toothbrush, toothpaste, tissues, toilet tissue and soap. She also gave me “pocket money.” Tomorrow morning she will take me to open a bank account, set up an Internet collection and prepare to get my residence permit. She has made everything as easy as is possible, and I appreciate her care immensely.

After dropping off my luggage and getting my key, I accompanied her back to the office (the building next door, which has a beautiful garden and a wonderful lobby) to get my bearings and say hello, and was again impressed by everyone I met. The chief copy editor (who Jingwei said told them to employ me as soon as he got off the phone interview I had with him) invited me to sit in on the evening news meeting and I was asked for my opinion on the stories discussed. I very much look forward to working with him. The international desk head also seems a highly capable journalist, and the fact she is female makes me even more positive I won’t have to deal with the sexism prevalent in Korea.

The air quality, today at least, seemed better than Seoul, or perhaps it’s just that there are different things that trigger my allergies there. I’ve been warned it won’t stay that way in winter, but will try to minimize any ill effects as best I can. Both the apartment and office building are non-smoking, and I react to cigarette smoke more than anything else.

I’m not naïve enough to believe everything will be idyllic, but I’m happy I will be working with people who care about their product and actively want me to help make it better. On top of that, I get to live in one of the most fascinating countries for a writer to be at the moment, as it grows and evolves. Even the stories talked about for tomorrow’s edition excite me, as the country positively and consciously seeks a balance between maintaining its rapid growth and looking after its residents and beauty. Yes, mistakes will be made along the way, but no country is free of mistakes.

Future Adventures, Part III . . .

Having had enough cynicism and political debate this morning over the Snowden/Manning betrayals and the lack of privacy we opt into when we share everything about ourselves on social networks, it's time for a little more wide-eyed anticipation of the wonders that await in my older, more experienced kingdom . . .

16: Hiking Jiangxi

China has some serious hiking trails, with spectacular scenery and lots to see. I'm thinking lots of mini-trips to such spots may be the perfect complement to the hubble/bubble of Beijing. Matt and Delores - this is just west of Shanghai - want to go see the Taoist spires of Sanqing Shan?

And yes, it's another UNESCO World Heritage site . . .

17: Yuangyang Rice Terraces, Yunan

WOW! Google this for images - it is spectacular!

I may have to buy a real camera but I'm always conflicted about that. If I have visual pictures, I may not paint word pictures. For this landscape, it might be worth it.

18: Li River Scenery, Guangxi

Oh. My. Buddha. The images for this are equally stunning, in a different way. Stunning karst mountain backdrops to scenes of rural domesticity - water buffalo, farmers, fishermen.

The point and shoot may not do this justice, though I do have a few photographer friends who want to visit. I may just have to schedule trips accordingly.

19: The Great Buddha, Leshan, Sichuan

Another UNESCO World Heritage site, but one I may choose to skip. It's impressive for many, many reasons, but a little dour for my taste.

I prefer my Buddha to be happy . . .

20: Taichi

I will definitely watch and photograph this martial art form, but want to return to one I practiced while in Sydney many years ago, with the most charismatic Chinese master one could imagine (who looked a little similar to the buddha above - old, with a bit of a belly and an easy smile. I've also seen him take down a group of young Kung Fu students without seeming to even move, just a gentle sway, an acceptance of their attack and a tap to render them immobile.

Qigong, or Chi Kung, is similar to taichi but adds the focus on moving the qi/chi around the body and is used primarily as a healing art. Every move is also a block or attack if speeded up, and China is the perfect place to start learning this again.

Martial, medical and spiritual - sounds like a perfect balance to me.

Too much awesome . . .

I (kinda) apologize if the blog has bored you of late, but I'm excited, a little daunted and also a little scared about the next step in the adventure, so I'm overplanning what I may or may not do.

I'm also a little pissed off . . .

I'm tired of people, particularly American people, telling me all the reasons I should NOT go to China.

Mostly, they are people who know nothing more of the world than what they watch on FOX or read on their facebook feeds.

Heads up, America, China owns most of your foreign debt. Mainly because you ("the people") wanted to own more than you needed and pay less than you needed. It's okay, China is unlikely to call that debt in, because it knows you can't pay and a bankrupt America is no more what China wants than a failed-state North Korea. But, really . .. .

As for the other main reasons - the pollution and the state control . . .

China knows it has a problem with pollution. It does care and it is trying. It's a huge problem, and they know it. And are doing everything possible to fix it. Phasing out charcoal in favor of gas, bringing in electric vehicles rather than petrol.

I'm not quite sure the country that gave us the Exxon Valdez and the Gulf spill have the right to lecture.

State control/censorship?

Yes, I know. Because that was part of the negotiation/interviews for the job. I've been working elsewhere lately where they are not so open about the fact.

Then we go back to America - FOX, CNN. MSNBC - do you really believe what they're telling you?

And how is your current (and former) administration going with that personal privacy thing?

Maybe you should travel a little more - may I recommend China . . .