December in Review

Things I love: December

1.       Listening to my iPod Christmas playlist

2.       Care packages

3.      Spending 70¥ on a small tub of Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream, 130¥ for Kahlua, 100¥ for a small bottle of Bailey’s,   8¥ on PBR Black beer and getting to enjoy a beer float for breakfast on Christmas morning 

4.       My fleece granny PJs

5.       Days off for Christmas and New Years

6.       Hanging out with my ex-pat and Chinese friends and getting surprised with a delicious cup of mulled wine on Christmas eve

7.       Listening to Chinese children singing Christmas carols

8.       Having roomie Christmas a few days early and opening presents together

9.       Knowing I’ll be moving to Huangshan in a month

10.   Milk tea (Nai Cha)and drinking hot Ginger-Brown sugar water because, according to the Chinese, it’s good for you

Things I miss: December

1.       Christmas at home

2.       Holiday parties with friends and family

3.       Making tons of Christmas cookies and delivering plates of them to friends

4.       Central heating

5.       My bike (it got stolen)

6.       My car (I hate taking the bus)

7.       My friends and family

8.       Egg Nog

9.       Soy Nog

10.   Pumpkin Spice Soy Nog

Getting Schooled in China

Lesson #6: The Teacher is the Student

I came to China for many reasons.  I came to travel and see a distant part of the world.  I came to get an inside glimpse into a very foreign culture.  I came to get another perspective on life, and to make sure that when I look back I won’t say “I regret not living somewhere else for a while.”  And of course, I came here to learn how to teach. 

Knowing that I want to get my Masters in teaching and become a high school teacher when I return, I was looking forward to getting some much needed teaching experience.  I was eager to figure out my classroom management style, and since I hope to teach ELL when I get back, teaching English to students here would really help me brush up on my grammar skills.  I just hoped I wouldn’t get stuck with all the youngest students; there would be little to no value that I could see for helping me achieve my future goals.

Some people grow up adoring small children; I grew up indifferent to them.  I think kids are cute, but have always had an underlying fear of them.  To me they are like wolves in sheep’s clothing.  They appear to be adorable, harmless little lambs, but in reality are dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.  Admittedly they wouldn’t harm you physically the way a wolf could, but they can wreak emotional disaster on a person in a matter of minutes.  The little monsters reel you in with their irresistible miniature features and pleading puppy eyes; but at any given moment they may turn into a horrifying pooping, screaming, squirming, snot-gooping inconsolable fiend.  Lock me up in a cold, deserted, condemned haunted mansion 50 miles away from the nearest sign of civilization in the middle of a vast cornfield in the middle of some backwards state in the middle of the U.S., have a different horror movie playing in every room for good measure, and I would probably be more comfortable than I would be teaching a class full of little toddlers that I know full well to actually be mini-monsters in disguise.  I’ve concluded that China has a queer sense of humor.  Not being satisfied with throwing a dirty, stinky pile of culture shock in my face it apparently thought it would be amusing to toss me into the pit filled with these puny people and see what would become of me.   

At Aston there are three full time foreign teachers: my two roommates Oly and George, and me.  Oly taught six months at a different Aston branch before coming here, so they gave him the highest levels.  When they gave me my schedule they said they gave me the lowest levels and youngest kids because of my lack in previous teaching experience.  Both George and I have never taught before.  Clearly being a woman did NOT play to my favor in this instance.  It appeared my nightmare of being around snot monsters was turning into a reality, and what I envisioned would be my ultimate Adventure Epic was to be transformed into a Horror Story.   

In the beginning God said “let there be light.”  As I started my first week of teaching that’s exactly what I begged heaven for as well.  My TESOL classes prepared me for teaching students about grammar and English conversation, but we never delved into babysitting and how to entertain small children that have had zero exposure to the English language.   I learned quickly which games were effective and which were not.  I had to adjust to the idea that Friday and Saturday nights would be devoted to lesson planning and heavy duty sleeping.  I had to try not to take it personally when the youngest students would cry when they saw me, or when the older ones would roll their eyes and ask “is finished now?”  I had to adapt myself to teaching promotional classes in the Primary schools where the classrooms typically have 50-70 very energetic students.  And I had to keep telling myself over and over again that this was fun and that things were getting better.  And somewhere along the line, those phrases became true.  Without knowing how or exactly when, I crossed an invisible barrier and tears were replaced with smiles, some students run to hug me when I entered the room, and upon my leaving others would say emphatically, “thank you, good bye, see you later, thank you!”  Though I didn’t see the value in teaching youngsters before, I have since taken the blinders off that I was wearing and can see the entire picture now.    

One of the first things you learn about China is that nothing is as you expect.  I did not expect that I would have little to no time to travel.  I did not expect to have only two days off instead of the three that were stipulated in my contract, but that was my idiotic decision to comply with that revision.  I did not expect to teach seven different classes on Saturday, only to get up the next morning and teach twelve classes on Sunday.  I did not expect to be teaching children so young they can barely walk.  Had Fate visited me one day and given me a quick glimpse into this part of my future, I probably never would have come here.  And I would have missed out on one of the greatest experiences of a lifetime, and I would never have learned many of the lessons that I am still only just beginning to understand. 

You can read Confucius sayings and Proverbs all day long and be a better person for it if you can apply them to your life.  But the lessons that stick with you are ones you learn through experience, and wisdom that these proverbs try to impart on readers is much more poignant when you are living through examples of them.  Or, in the words of the master philosopher himself, “I hear and I forget.  I see and I remember.  I do and I understand.”

Summary: You may come here for a specific purpose, but often Fate has her own purpose for you.  You will come here to teach, but will end up learning far more about yourself, about others, about the ways of the world than you ever would have expected.  Your opinions about things will change.  Your patience will be tried and your emotional stamina will be tested; you will become a better person for every small victory you win in these battles. 

Ride into the Sunset

Lesson #5: Buy a Bike

When living in a (relatively) large city in China, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed, claustrophobic and very stifled.  Being from the Pacific Northwest I am accustomed to having the great outdoors waiting for me on my doorstep.  In Hefei, the outdoors are not great and they’re considerably more challenging to find.  When daycations aren’t available, the next best thing is to go for a bike ride and head to one of the many parks in the city.  This of course requires that you buy a bike.  Here is a step by step guide on how to make a successful purchase.

1.       Know what you want.  Shopping for a bike in China is vastly different than shopping for a bike in the states.  In the U.S. the criteria for buying a bike is that it has multiple speeds, a comfortable seat, is moderately stylish and has a good, highly visible trusted brand name.  If you’re on a budget you’ll try to find a good quality used bike, but it better be damn near perfect.  If you have to buy new, you will; this bike is an investment and you want quality.  In China, a new, high quality bike is for idiots.  Flash that name brand around and your bike will be stolen the second you start to dismount.  When looking to buy my first bike my only stipulations were that it worked, and that it didn’t look too new.

2.       Know your price range.  I set my highest price at 100RMB.

3.       Find a busy market area so there is ample competition to help drive the price down.

4.       Take a Chinese person with you.  They will be able to do all the talking, and will also be able to make sure you’re not getting totally screwed on the price. 

5.       Test the bike before you buy.

6.       Make sure you look reasonably disappointed even if the bike is perfect; you don’t want them to think you want it that bad or you’ll never get the price down. 

7.       Buy two locks for it before you get home; if it’s not secured to something it will probably get stolen.  Again.  (If you’re buying a used bike for only 100RMB, it’s a pretty safe bet you’re buying a stolen bike)

8.       Understand that if your nice, used, previously stolen bike does eventually get stolen from you that’s just Karma.

Once you have your new old-previously-stolen bike you get that same liberating feeling that you had the first time your parents left you for an entire week at some awesome summer camp.  The possibilities are limitless.  Having the bike will also make the huge city shrink just a little in size because you’ll be able to see where things start to connect.  And finally, if you’re lucky, you’ll find a bike route that will become your personal ‘Zen ride.’

 In Hefei I discovered a path that followed the river out to the large reservoir on the outskirts of the city.  Anytime I was feeling overwhelmed, or just wanted a little bit of peace and quiet, or a hint of nature I would ride along my path.  While riding on this path I’ve seen delicate trees transform with the changing of the seasons, stumbled upon a vast botanical garden, watched the sun paint the sky with electric shades of pink just before it sunk into the water, and I’ve seen Coy fish that looked like iridescent dancing rose pedals while they were feeding in a hatchery. 

Summary:  Buy a bike.  Find “your path.”  Appreciate the little moments of freedom and beauty that your squeaky bike will give you.  Also appreciate that if you have a bike you can avoid riding the busses that often have decaying wood flooring and are stuffed so full of people that it makes a can of sardines look spacious.   

Give Yourself a Break!

Lesson #4:  Take a Daycation

One of the first things I learned about teaching English in China is that there are certain inalienable truths.  The first truth is that you will get screwed on your first teaching job in China.  Call it a rite of passage.  Call it Naiveté.  Call it what you will; the bottom line is that this truth held begrudgingly strong for my experience.  In the beginning of my time in China I suffered from an acute bout of disbelief and frustration regarding my lack of free time.  I had signed up for a 20 hour a week contract, so naturally assumed I would have more time on my hands than I would know what to do with.  Without going into particulars, the bottom line is the “20 hour” line was a crock of bull.  My teaching planning, traveling to and from and between classes, and actual classroom time wound up occupying far more than 20 hours.  During the weekdays I teach at different public schools on any given week.  During the weekends I have a set schedule that consists of teaching 7 classes every Saturday and 11-12 every Sunday.  Most of the kids are under the age of 10.  I only get two days off a week and they are not consecutive; so much for weekend trips.  At first I was forlorn.  I thought it appropriate that the walls of our apartment are made of cold hard cement.   They would lend a much more authentic feel to the notion of being stashed away in a cave somewhere. 

After my initial shock and infection of negativity, I started looking for some antidotes.  Some remedies included spending time with my new friends, exploring the city and laughing at all the funny things people wear, and stuffing my face with authentic Chinese food (though this can backfire, literally . . . ahem. . . if you eat too much too quickly).  One of the most effective treatments I found to battle discontentedness turned out to be quite simple.  Take a daycation.  Correction: take lots of daycations. 

I am lucky because Hefei is in a fantastic location.  The Anhui province is home to some of the most famous mountains in all of China, and possibly the world.  If you’ve seen Avatar and can recall the picturesque floating mountains, just keep in mind that those were inspired by the mountain ranges in Anhui.  Furthermore, because it has always been a relatively poor province, many of the ancient cities and sites survived the destructive Cultural Revolution.  Since Hefei is the capital of the Anhui province, it is the hub of various lines of transportation.  Thus, it is easy to take a bullet train to Nanjing or Shanghai, or to take a bus to virtually any tourist site within a six hour driving radius. 

My first daytrip was during the National Day break, and my roomies and I ventured out to Zipongshan.  This is a small mountain about an hour and a half bus ride from Hefei.  What is notable about this mountain is that it demonstrates what the new Chinese mentality is for tourist sites: the rise of the new ‘ancient’ cities and temples.  Most of the buildings we saw here were only about halfway complete, and they were impressive structures that were built in a very traditional style.  Interestingly, half of the funding for these new temples was from the Japanese.  This is ironic because most of the Chinese people I know do not like the Japanese, and I think that has a lot to do with Hefei’s close proximity to Nanjing.  The war memories do not fade so quickly. 

Another daycation that I mentioned in an earlier lesson was my roomies’ and my outing with our new Chinese friends.  They took us to Egret Island and Liangyashan and gave us our first taste of how sweet and fulfilling Chinese generosity can be.  We feasted our eyes on beautiful landscapes and authentic ancient temples, and stuffed our hearts and souls with laughter and happy memories.

 

And then there was Nanjing.  My roommate George and I dedicated one of our days off to exploring this vibrant and booming city.  It was the first time since coming to China that I felt like I found somewhere that was up to speed on modern thinking.  Cars stay in their lanes when they drive, there is a subway system that is timely and has English translations, and there is a Starbucks.  Actually, I counted two.  And a Seattle Café.  Aside from being comforted by modernity, we were also welcomed with a beautiful sunny day and a city-scape with the trees in full fall color.  After being in Hefei where trees are almost as uncommon as foreigners, it was like a dream coming to Nanjing and seeing the foliage filled hills that surround it. 

Our timing couldn’t have been better; it was like Mother Nature had been hiding this day in her back pocket, waiting for us to arrive.  When we finally got there she greeted us with a hug and a kiss, handed us this small gift and whispered in our ears, “I saved the brightest colors for you, I hope you enjoy!”

Of course, when I traveled to Jiuhuashan a few weeks later I had a suspicion that Mother Nature may have been missing me as much as I had been missing her.  Every time I traveled out of the city, she would treat me with marvelous sunny days and stunning vistas.  I could almost hear the trees murmuring, “See how majestic we are, don’t you miss us?”  And the crisp leaves that fluttered on the branches and danced in the breeze rasped out “Buildings can’t move the way we do.  Buildings don’t change colors.  Do you really like looking at them more than us?”  Each step I took on the time worn path that wound through the bamboo forests and up the mountain sides was both a reminder to me of how much I missed the ‘Great Outdoors’ and was also a small prayer of thanks to whatever forces on Earth conspired to bring me to this magical place and bless me with this wonderful day.

Summary: Travel an hour or travel six hours.  It will be worth it.  Once you are out of your immediate surroundings you will feel like a tourist again, and you will start to look at things through a different filter.  This filter has a way of sifting out a lot of the bad energy and toxins you may have been inhaling in your ‘home city’.  It will bring back into focus what your motive was for coming to China, and will make you thankful for both the good and the bad; the yin and the yang.

Kung Pow Turkey Day

Case Study #2: Hosting Thanksgiving in China

Time is a mysterious and elusive creature.  One moment you are running at a dead sprint trying desperately just to catch a glimpse at its shadow.  The next thing you know you feel like you’ve been stood up at a dinner date, checking your watch continually and wondering if Time is ever going to show up. 

In China, I initially felt like Time was some slow tortoise that could barely be bothered to move.  Each week seemed like an eternity, and I never even took a moment to consider what I would be doing for the holidays because I honestly thought they might never get here.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered that in the marathon to Thanksgiving, the tortoise was suddenly smirking at me from the finish line.  With just one week to plan, my fellow American friend, Rand, and I decided to throw a Thanksgiving feast for all the people we cared about in Hefei. 

Our original plan was to cook some traditional dishes and invite all our closest friends to celebrate at one of our apartments.  We started brainstorming what to make and soon realized that nearly all of the recipes required the use of an oven.  They don’t have ovens in China.  The next best thing was the small toaster oven that Rand and his roommate, Riva, have.  It could probably fit a small chicken, but would never be able to handle an entire turkey, let alone the rest of the dishes on our menu.  Another issue was that most of the ingredients would be challenging to find, and thus would likely be very expensive.  Because of my work schedule, I would only have the day of the dinner in order to prepare and help get things ready.  With that many strikes against us, we concluded it would be wiser to host the dinner at a restaurant instead.

Hefei has a nearly non-existent ex-pat population, and the idea of a foreign tourist ever visiting this city is both laughable and unfathomable.  Because of this, in a city of more than 3 million people there is only one place we knew of that would be serving a traditional Thanksgiving meal at their restaurant: The Hilton.

Rand and I consulted with the restaurant manager and reserved an area that could seat 25 people and requested that the tables be pushed together to form one long table.  This request seemed simple enough to us, but the very idea of it proved to be almost too much for the manager to handle.  She was convinced that it would be inconvenient and people would much rather be at smaller tables.  We told her that this was the traditional way of eating a Thanksgiving meal, and she said she would try to make it happen for our feast. 

It was a relief getting that out of the way, and was very comforting to know that there would be a delicious assortment of professionally cooked Thanksgiving themed dishes for our guests to enjoy.  But Rand and I still wanted to bring something homemade to the dinner to add that personal touch.  We considered making pie, but the restaurant manager mentioned that there would be both pumpkin and pecan pie available at the extensive dessert bar.  And so we settled on cookies.  What could be more American than a chocolate chip cookie?  And what tastes more like the Holidays than a bite of a sugary gingerbread cookie? 

On Thanksgiving morning at 9:00 we headed to the store to get our ingredients (technically stores, it took a few tries to find everything we needed).  We were back to his place and busy prepping by 11:00.  For the next five and a half hours Rand, Riva and I slaved away in their tiny kitchen making some of the tastiest cookies I’ve ever had.  Because they don’t have chocolate chips in China, we opted to use the ridiculously expensive (and ridiculously good) Lindtt 85% special dark chocolate bars that we found in one of the stores.  We broke the bars into chunks, occasionally taste testing to ensure the quality was suitable for our cookies.  We used highly scientific guesswork on the measuring, kneaded the dough by hand, and incorporated Ford’s assembly line techniques for getting the cookies on the trays, in the oven, and back off the trays without breaking the fresh-baked fragile cookies.  Though we were not in our home countries, and though we were baking on a much smaller scale, or at least with a smaller oven, it was still a day devoted to preparing food in anticipation of a night sharing it with the people we love. 

 At 6:30 my roommate, George, and I met up with Rand and Karita and walked across the street to The Hilton.  As we were walking on the sidewalk a mini-midget beggar ran up to Rand and bear hugged his leg and wouldn’t let go until we gave some money.  It was particularly strange that she chose to go after Rand considering he is roughly 6’5” and this person didn’t even go up to his hip.  After a good laugh (it was really funny . . . . and awkward) we gave her some change and proceeded in to the restaurant.  And there in the back was our single long table for 25.  They had even decorated it with green apples and various nuts.  It was perfect. 

The rest of the evening was a dizzy blur of mixed English and Chinese conversations, endless photo opps and sumptuous Thanksgiving food.  Toward the end of the evening, some of the servers rolled up an entire turkey for our table.  We had no idea they were going to cook a whole bird for our party, so it came as a very exciting surprise.  We gave a toast, filled up on turkey and cookies, and had a truly wonderful evening. 

 

When you spend Thanksgiving away from your home and away from your family, it’s easy to assume that it won’t be as good because it ‘just won’t be the same.’  I learned that this assumption is only partly true.  The people and the place are certainly different, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be as good.  When you adhere to the traditions, and share them with people you care about, it doesn’t matter where you are, the warm and soothing feeling you get is still the same.  I will always be thankful that I got to learn this lesson for myself.  I will always be thankful for my Chinese Thanksgiving.  

Summary: If you are in a foreign country for Thanksgiving, host a turkey day feast.  Understand that you will probably spend a lot of money, but know this: it will be worth it.   

November in Review

TEN THINGS I MISS:

1.       The holiday season at home (Halloween, Thanksgiving, and the anticipation of Christmas)

2.       Having two days off in a row

3.       Knowing that if I go inside a building people will not spit, smoke, or throw trash and food debris on the floor

4.       Shoes my size

5.       Tailgate season

6.       An oven

7.       Going running outside

8.       Reading books at various coffee shops around Seattle

9.       Looking at a recipe online and knowing that I will be able to find all the ingredients and measuring utensils

10.   My friends and family

TEN THINGS I LOVE:

1.       China Music CN: free LEGAL downloads!

2.       Daycations to Nanjing and Jiuhuashan

3.       The irregularly warm weather

4.       Roasted chestnuts and street vendor sweet potatoes

5.       Thanksgiving and home cooked meals with my Chinese friends/family

6.       Learning Chinese by going and sitting in on my friend’s kindergarten classes

7.       Going to the gym

8.       Care packages (thanks mom!)

9.       Babies bundled up in winter clothes and all resembling the boy from A Christmas Story

10.   Homemade Chai Tea (I drink it from a jar and it reminds me of my friend Charlotte; and it tastes delicious : )

The Friendship Factor

Lesson #3: Make Chinese Friends

The most important thing you can do when going to China is to come with an open mind and a positive attitude.  If you find yourself continually disillusioned about the fact that things aren’t just like they are at home, then you will have missed the whole point in coming. 

The second most important thing you need to do when coming to China is to make Chinese friends.  It’s one thing to be an outsider and make visual observations about what you see and what you think Chinese culture is.  It’s another thing entirely to live within that culture and have a personal guide to lead you through the labyrinth of traditions and cultural norms.  Though there are many reasons to become close friends with some of the locals, the three benefits that have been most significant to me are food, traveling, and love.

Food:  As in many other cultures, one way the Chinese express their gratitude or care is through food.  They will want to take you out to a nice restaurant and I guarantee they will order things you would never dream of trying on your own.  Because of this, if you are a vegetarian I suggest you adopt a very lenient policy.  I prefer not to eat meat, and my Chinese friends know this, yet even so they still cooked meat for me when they invited me to dinner.  Since being here I have sampled pig trotters, eel, a bizarre salami looking type of meat, duck, and a fish eyeball (though admittedly that was on accident and I promptly spit it out). 

One of the best things about the way Chinese eat is that it’s essentially buffet style.  You order several dishes as a group and they are placed on a spinning bit of circular glass in the middle of the table.  You are then able to serve yourself little bits of whatever you want to try.  This is a much more communal way of eating, and I know that when I head back to the states it will be frustrating to have to settle for ordering only one thing for myself at a restaurant.  Another added benefit of eating meals with your Chinese friends is they will help you learn Mandarin because most of them don’t speak English, so a large portion of the time you are simply listening and trying to pick out words here and there that you recognize. 

Traveling:  If at all possible, try to make friends with Chinese people who have a car.  The first Chinese friend I made only had a motorcycle, but he knew I wanted to see some ancient villages so he got a hold of some friends of his that had a car and arranged for them to take me and my roommates out for a day of exploring some mountains in the region.  It turns out that an entire group of them decided to come along, and the only person who could speak any English was the 15 year old daughter, Julie.  What I thought was going to be a very awkward day turned out to be one of the best experiences I’ve had since coming to China.  Not only did we get to see some incredible places, but everyone in the group was so much fun and after a while I started to forget that there is even a language barrier at all.  When you’re having a good time, certain things don’t need to be translated. 

The first stop on our journey was a place called Egret Island.  This was a relatively new National Park, with a lake that is really just a man-made reservoir and where the forests are all planted in perfectly linear rows and the trees are still in their awkward gangly teenage phase.  On our way home we made an impulse stop at a Liangya mountain.  Famous poets have been coming to this site to gain inspiration for hundreds of years, and both the stones and trees in this forest proudly exhibited their scars and stood with a stooping solidarity that let you know they had been guardians here for a long, long time.  On this journey with our new friends, we saw the juxtaposition of old and new, and got treated to a day of near perfection.  Even the weather Gods seemed happy and warm, and cooperated by lifting any traces of the standard Anhui haze.  We climbed the stairway to heaven and when perched on top of the pagoda at the apex I could almost swear that we really had climbed to somewhere beyond the bounds of this heavy, gravity-ridden earth.

 When you start a friendship off with a day like that, it is very easy to maintain, and many more happy memories have since been made with my Chinese ‘family.’ 

Love: Many Chinese friends have a limited ability to speak English, so they pick only the most basic and important words.  Often times this means they say things like, “I like you”  “you have beautiful heart” “Today I am very happy with you”  “I am happy you are beautiful friend.”  You don’t need many words to express love, appreciation, happiness, care and thankfulness.  As you spend time together swapping your cultures and your languages back and forth, you start to realize that those treasured feelings of warmth and love that you left behind with your family and friends are suddenly found again amongst a group of strangers.    

Summary: If you come to China, make friends with some local Chinese people as quickly as possible.  Though the people may seem standoff-ish at first, you quickly learn that they are very giving.  Not only will they give you food, gifts and the occasional free vacation, but they will also give their hearts. 

*Extra Credit: When you go to China or anywhere with a vastly different culture, one of the values of making friends with local people is that you get to experience their culture.  An added bonus is that you have an opportunity to share special parts of your culture with them if you choose to.  In an upcoming case study we will learn how to host a Thanksgiving in Hefei!

Baby Got Back

Case Study #1: Buttless Baby Breeches

·         Day 1: Got off the airplane; it’s a stuffy, smallish airport.  Weather outside is gray, humid, and hot.  Looks similar to thick San Francisco fog, but suspect that the gray here is primarily just smog.  Since no signs are in English, I followed the herd of people that I recognized from my flight over to the baggage claim area.  There are only two belts.   Guess I’m in the right place.   Looking around I’ve noticed a few things right off the bat: I’m the only foreigner in the room, the people are much taller than I expected, and several people have luxury Versace looking luggage but instead of the traditional V emblem dappled everywhere, there are golden embroidered Mickey Mouses.  Lastly, and most alarmingly, I just spied a little boy whose pants are split completely down the back.  I wasn’t expecting to see a full moon my first day in China, but there it is.  His pants are missing the essential fabric from the top of his butt crack to practically his ankles.  He’s only a tiny little bugger so I suppose they have different standards of modesty here, but still, I can’t believe his parents haven’t fixed his pants or given him new ones.   Furthermore, he isn’t wearing any diapers.  That’s just an accident waiting to happen.

·         Day 2: The weather outside is gray, humid and hot.  Am now certain that the San Francisco-esque fog is really just smog.  Was walking on the street and saw two more children/toddlers with pants split down the backside.  Have determined that assless chaps are the common fashion trend for the youngsters here.  Cuts down on waste from diapers I suppose; but what happens when the kids have to go to the bathroom?

·         Day 3: Was walking along the busy streets of downtown Hefei and nearly stepped in a small stream of water coming from the steps outside a restaurant.  At first assumed it was just the liquid that drips from all the air conditioners everywhere.  Looked down directly to my right and saw a grandma holding a small baby out over the steps.  The baby was relieving himself almost directly onto my leg.  Grandma didn’t seem fazed.   Neither did any of the people around.  Will now be much more cautious anytime I am walking near a suspicious puddle.

·         End of week 1: Have now seen the assless chaps in action in a wide array of places.  In the middle of a crowded street, over a garbage can on the bus, on the granite steps outside of a KFC.  I guess these partial-pants are more convenient for immediate relief.  Clearly none of the locals find anything strange about youngsters’ private parts being unabashedly displayed to the public, nor are they offended by the bathroom practices, so I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it.

·         End of week 2: Was walking to the bus stop and noticed a young girl squatting by one of the nicely planted young trees that lines the road.  Squatting is normal here, people of all ages squat anytime they have a minute to rest.  I don’t mean to say they are going to the bathroom, they are merely squatting.  This little girl (not actually all that little, maybe 10 years old or so) had her pants around her ankles though, so clearly she wasn’t just squatting to take a break.  By now I had gotten used to seeing youngsters going pee whenever and wherever they needed to with little concern about being completely visible to anyone passing by.  To my utter horror, this girl was not going pee.  And her parents and lots of people were right there watching her!  My world was shaken, now not only did I have to watch out for piles of poochie poo, but I would have to look out for toddler terds as well.

·         Lessons learned: Watch your step.  Don’t freak out when you see babies that only appear to be three quarters of the way dressed.  Don’t walk to close to a grandparent that is holding a baby in sitting position.  If you are standing near a baby with buttless breaches on the bus, make sure you are out of the firing range.  Better yet, move away just to make sure.  

Supplementary reading: visit this site  and my photo gallery