Got my nails did.

 I've never had it done before, so I'm pleased, though not thrilled with the results. Either way, I went with friend Lauren to this random Chinese-market style mall, and the... nail technicians(?) were just sitting at folding tables, yelling for people to sit down. This only took about 20-30 minutes after I actually decided what I wanted. Some of the designs were actually pretty intricate, but I didn't have my camera at the time. Might try it again one day, but with my real nails (that had grown so long before they ruthlessly hacked them off). 115 yuan. Bleh. Still cheaper than the $25 down the street from home.



Let's see how long I can deal with this. I can still text on my phone, but as I type this, my fingers keep getting caught in the gaps on my keyboard. lol



Looks like a rush job for sure here.



Humanity and compensation.

Humans.

Animals that forgot.

Instead, they find ways to compensate for their inability to coincide with nature - meaning the environment, and other animals - by inventing things such as language, technology, culture. These things in turn begin to create the creature, trapping them in a web of constant generational memory loss and thus carrying them further from the reality of it all. 

Don't forget what you are.

It's one of the biggest favors we can do ourselves.

Tianfu Square, and nearby.

Chairman Mao. 

Chinese instant dinners.

Of course they have straight ramen, but this is definitely worth mentioning/photographing.

More photos from today (Chunxi Lu).

Mall!

Perverted panda shirt.

...wtf? 

Looks like Natalie Dee! 

Ridiculously huge bras. 

I was trying to snap the two women in costume that stand  around for money, but my friend 小布 ("Bland") managed to take up most of the picture.

Shirt I bought for 60元 ($9)... 太贵了。 "Wake up."

An Odd Situation: Dealing with inappropriate behavior and racism.

This particular issue... probably arises as much in America as it does China. I begin with an excerpt from John Howard Griffin's Black Like Me:

All but two picked me up the way they would pick up a pornographic photograph or book - except that this was verbal pornography. With a Negro, they assumed they need give no semblance of self-respect or respectability... All showed morbid curiosity about the sexual life of the Negro, and all had, at base, the same stereotyped image of the Negro as as an inexhaustible sex-machine with oversized genitals and a vast store of experiences, immensely varied. They appeared to think that the Negro has done all of those 'special' things they themselves had never dared to do... I note these things because it is harrowing to see decent-looking men and boys assume that because a man is black they need to show him none of the reticences they would, out of respect, show the most derelict white man (Griffin 86).

Now. Everything I've experienced at home is similar, but in a petri dish - much purer, thus much more amplified, and increasingly frustrating. I already questioned what it would be like to be black in China. Also, I've noted how drastically different it is to be a black American and the frustrations that must ensue. At home, I've also indirectly experienced great discomfort from witnessing discussions of blackness and sexuality, of the constant objectification of the black member - the Mandingo complex. I could go on about blackness, femininity, and sexuality, but today, that's not what I witnessed and issue with (and actually, I've only seen two black females here - one African, one American).

Today, I was determined to go to Chunxi Lu, one of Chengdu's most popular shopping districts. I was supposed to meet up with Donald at 11, but due to my inability to stay awake and some retarded travel antics, I didn't make it until almost 1pm. He showed me some really cool malls and places I hadn't known about already, and we wandered through some of the cheap markets for a while. Everyone stared, many people rudely commented on our presence/appearance/etc., and some excitedly ran up and tried talking to us (complete with extremely doofus laughter). In one store in particular, they began staring at us, looking at each other, talking, looking back at us - to which Donald responded, in English - "I can understand you. I speak Chinese." (A good number of young people speak English, even if it's only "Hello" and "NICE TO MEET YOU!") We stood there awkwardly, too frozen by their extremely blatant discussion of us to look at the clothes, until one pulled me aside. Numerous times, she pointed at my crotch. At first I thought she was trying to let me know I had something on my pants, then I thought she was trying to ask me if I was male or female, and then, when she pointed at my cohort... I realized what she was trying to ask me.

Greatly annoyed, I responded as such.
“噢! 阴茎！他的阴茎！很大。 很大。 你要/有看吗？！” 
Oh! Yīnjīng! Tā de yīnjīng! Hěn dà. Hěn dà. Nǐ yào/yǒu kàn ma? ! 


When I said "yinjing," she nodded, flushed pink, before I continued loudly fabricating answers to her rude question... to which she grew more and more embarrassed - until she hid her face in her suddenly-apparent boyfriend's chest. As we quickly exited the store, laughing in shocked disbelief, we saw the couple leave in a huff, allegedly with a very angry boyfriend leading the way. Not only did this girl have the audacity to equate my friend to a stereotype of his genitals - by assuming that as two foreigners in each others' company we must be physically involved and that she should ask me - she did so in front of her boyfriend. What the fuck, please. :(

Also, when I say petri-dish... If you've seen the awesome video by RecklessTortuga called "Racism in the Elevator," or unknown's video "White Girl Work-Out" - it definitely applies here. And it is just as hilarious. So I thank Donald for showing me how much fun can be had as a foreigner in spite of these stereotypes, and I'm very glad to have met him. But how the hell do these stereotypes spread like this?

It definitely needs to be addressed... 

These things are every-fucking-where.

 

Shout-out to my father... I think.

I bought a Thai film about a week ago - it has the same awesome actor from Chocolate. Also, I saw a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu poster a while back and took a picture for you. :) Any movies you want me to look for while I'm over here?

They're about 5-10元 ($0.70-1.50).

A Couple Club Reviews, Strange Experiences, and "White Monkeys" Pt. II

5 March Saturday
This was the day I went bra-shopping so my outfit wouldn't be wildly inappropriate. After wandering around all day doing so, Donald called me and we spent the next hour or so trying to find each other. I thought I would be able to walk to my dorm and to where he would be to drop off my bag, but clearly not. Walking outside of campus is not really quicker. He took me to Sabrina's, an expat import store - I bought butter and he bought pop-tarts. Yay. After we returned to my dorm, Ken joined us and I immediately started getting ready to go out again. Since it was Ladies' Night at Paname, we first went there - weak, weak, weak, as I've said. We left after 20 minutes and took a cab to Tai Ping Nanxin* Jie.

View Larger Map

We started at the West-most end of the street and made our way towards BABI II, stopping in each bar before continuing to the next, which became an extremely unpleasant experience. As soon as we approached the door, it's as though the door people took immediate guardianship, sweeping us in past everyone, even moving Chinese people away from the bar. Some things on the menu were 4-digits long, so we left, rather bewildered. This street epitomizes the class contrast here - on one side, you have opulent buildings with ridiculously expensive drink menus. On the other, there are cheap restaurants selling food until the wee hours of the morning at 8-12 元. Many nights, there are about 4-5 shabbily-dressed people carrying around monkeys. They charge 1元 to take a picture with it - probably more if they can manage.

Either way - we settled between BABI II and Muse that night, switching between the two several times
(Muse, BABI II, Muse, BABI II).

This night at Muse, there were no go-go dancers (unless you count us) - instead, we got kicked off the stage so poppers could perform, which made me incredibly sad and lonely. They were kind of found wanting, but I complimented them anyway. We got invited several times to people's booths, and someone even began speaking extremely random Japanese to me (which they do a lot here for some reason), to which I responded in my own broken manner. This guy in particular studied Japanese and said he loved the culture - an extremely rare sentiment here, I'm sure. However, this is where the whole "white monkey" issue actually begins.

If you hadn't noticed before, Westerners get a lot of unnecessary VIP treatment. While this does provide us with many privileges and benefits, in places all about face and status, this becomes a form of pacifying subordination. Everyone wants to take a picture with us, show it to their friends, buy you drinks, try to give you cigarettes. You have the white (or non-Asian) monkey, you have status. It bothers me very much, as I am constantly worried about tokenization - brown people chasing white people for status (though mostly black men chasing, or choosing to date only white women) and white people chasing brown people for an exotic flair (specifically white women speaking of their love of black prowess). Or anyone chasing any ethnic group because of their own misconceptions, stereotypes, and self-subordination/hatred. After several randomly began taking pictures of/with us, we started taking pictures as well. Here are some that Ken got on his camera:

Ken, me, random dude, Donald.

Look at the chick on the left!

Groper. I was definitely only posing. -_-'

Things were okay at first, until a particularly ungentlemanly fellow began attempting to grope me - as I mentioned in my previous post, such public physical contact is a resounding no. As his English was pretty good, I expect he knew damn better than to do such a thing in any cultural setting. Rather than laying my hands on anyone, we promptly left for BABI II - to stay.

This club receives its own special mention for several reasons:

• The music isn't shitty, at least towards the beginning of the night.
• It provides a sexual anomaly via a Western cultural icon: the stripper pole.

I'm sure many people know already of my fascination with pole art - I see it as an intense gymnastic medium that often goes misunderstood and underappreciated because of the sexual label it carries due to its origin in the sex industry. Really, it belongs in the Olympics, but I'm sure most people reading this would disagree. Regardless - they treat it completely differently here. The concept is a sexual one, of course - they're not totally ignorant to its meaning. However, it is very much as Donald described it: constantly surrounded by men, and when approached by women, they are chased away so the men can continue with their own awkward sexual pursuits (grabbing the pole, loosely oscillating, and grinning widely).

I've never really seen anything like that, not even on YouTube. And on a random note, "Russian" in China apparently means you're likely to be a prostitute.

So, "white monkey." I heard this term for the first time later that night (early that morning) from an Italian fellow. He used it to describe a student passerby's job as a face in front of an office (to attract visitors). But why white monkey and not just a monkey? It's a concept completely separate from the American notion of monkeys, imo. But what happens if you're black in China and get this treatment - or a job exploiting your non-Asian-ness? It seems most of the black people here are African, and work as a DJ of some sort. The only black American I know here is a teacher.
So... Is it really just another failure to accommodate the concept of non-white Westerners? Or non-Westerners? Or is it an expression of this culture's exoticizing values? Why is white still right?

My Chinese Name.

Just for the curious. I finally settled about a week ago. :)

幽径 
Yōu Jìng
Quiet Path


After choosing it, though, I found these characters much more attractive next to each other:

幽茎

Yōu Jīng

Quiet Stem

Though they both match me pretty well, I think the first is more within my interests and life expression. I'll probably continue referring to myself as the second in private, though.

A Couple Club Reviews, Strange Experiences, and "White Monkeys" Pt. I

In the past week and a half, I have been to about 10-12 different night clubs/bars in Chengdu (太多). It seems difficult, even unthinkable, but so many factors contributed to this:

• There must be hundreds within a 3-mile radius, and East Gate (where I live) is under a mile from the bar street.
• There's no cover - you just walk right in.
• Cab fare is like peanuts. 

My first night at a club (starting at Jellyfish), I also went to Paname (next door), MUSE, and later that night, BABI II and another place I believe is called SOHO. All this after the screamo show at Little Bar, so I was pretty exhausted. But from here, I'm going to break it down by bar, since the scene is a lot different from the clubs on Tai Ping Nan Jie.

Mooney's Bar
My first real weekend actually began on Thursday (March 3rd), even though I had class Friday morning and afternoon. I went with a bunch of French students from my dorm to a place called Mooney's Bar in the beautiful Shangri-La Hotel (*****) for Ladies Night. I must say that within the first five minutes, I could tell that this was laowai hunting ground. Business men in white t-shirts, in a dark bar, hiding behind dark sunglasses to dull their invasive stares. After being there twice since, I honestly have no desire to return. While at first excited by the diverse crowd, that element alone is not enough to redeem the bar's elemental failures. Every night I've gone, the cover band Peachy has played - while decent, and the first time enjoyable/extremely amusing, dancing to the same 20-or-so random songs (like Cranberries - Zombie, Lady Gaga, and Evanescence) grows tiresome. The DJ, while I savoured recorded music during my next visit, is quite trite. I know I'm in a certain time, place, and crowd that wants to hear certain things, but geez. Not a place to go every night - and as for me, never again.    

Jellyfish
This place was actually quite cool the first night I went - typical nightclub atmosphere (as in darkness broken by persistent neon beams of light) but a more lounge-like layout. The music was very good - or at least good as in familiar. I got extremely excited coming in because Ciara was playing, and the DJ took requests and mixed them quite well... so if only I could remember his name. It took a while for people to start dancing, but eventually the floor was filled with spastic, rhythmless laowai movements. I also met this awesome dude named Donald here, and that's how I wound up going to MUSE later too. It's also worth mentioning that the only other time I poked my head into Jellyfish, they were only playing techno. 不要。  


Paname
...definitely caters to an older crowd. My second visit, Ken and Donald kept commenting on how the bowling club/PTA meeting must have just gotten out. The first time, I moved back and forth from Jellyfish a couple times - originally having a primary interest in Paname, it failed to hold my interest at all. At least the first night the music was old-school good (my parents' era to 80s). When I came back, expecting better, the music was all the utter crap made within the past two years, and the DJs straight-out ignored any requests. So, I couldn't stay more than 20 minutes... And you can't just blame the DJ for sucking - definitely blame the club for picking them, too. 

Tai Ping Nan Jie: MUSE, BABI II, etc.

This is the same place mentioned in a previous blog about the children being forced to sell flowers. It's also about half a mile from my dorm, and you can find a shit-ton of good cheap food right across the street from the row of clubs. I'm going to describe my experiences by the date.

4 March Friday  
Again, same night I saw the show at Little Bar and hopped between Jellyfish and Paname. After meeting and chilling with Donald for a while, he invited me to go to Muse; since I'd been too afraid to go alone, and too embarassed to go with anyone from the 留学生宿舍, I jumped on the chance. I was absolutely surprised that the clubs were ALL free - no door fee, no coat check. You could just traipse right on in, give the coat check people your phone number, and you're good to go. If there was a dress code, I'm not sure - it might not have mattered for us. MUSE is probably one of the most interesting places I have ever seen - it's like it's straight out of a movie. One day I'll take a picture of the outside so you can get a gist, but the interior is like a giant white cave. Fucking awesome.

People were staring as soon as we walked in to the club - I saw no other foreigners until much later, but when I did they were sharing the dance-stage with us. And speaking of which - there is no room/place to dance in this club, except for on two 5x15' platforms at opposite ends of the room. And, irritating scented fog is constantly being emitted from the DJ-booth onto the tiny stage (to which I responded - “AHHH! We's being gassed!") Throughout the night, people expressed wonder over our movements and several drew back in... fear? Dancing in China is contact-free, as was I. Except for in Mooney's, everyone I've seen dances about two feet apart. Also, several times throughout the night, we were shuffled offstage so go-go dancers and (the same) cover singer (I've seen at several other clubs) could perform. One of the girls sitting near the stage made a sour face, and tried to move her date(?)'s hand towards my waist - to which he responded by recoiling and stuttering about how the Chinese do not do such things. So I consider the girl's gesture extremely rude, especially in such a cultural setting. We were then invited to their date-less table near the stage, where we were offered small glasses of this clear brown stuff that both smelled and tasted (and felt) JUST like iced tea.

After we got bored with MUSE, we retrieved our coats, etc. and went across the street for some food. Keep in mind that this was at about 3-4 in the morning, my time, and these people were running full-steam. A bit after 4, everyone else hopped into a cab and I wandered home, peeking into several other clubs on the way back and noting a couple I'd try to return to the next night.

I'll continue on 5 March Saturday later - need a break! And I'll probably blog about my karaoke experience while it's still fresh in my mind.       

Japan's Earthquake

Not sure if China felt any of the quake.

But I can't believe so many Americans would have the gall to post such ridiculously hateful things about Japan in spite of their ignorance. Seriously - if you've heard of Pearl Harbor, you should also know a little bit about the atomic bomb. The two atomic bombs. Hello?Anyone home? And, unless they survived Hiroshima or Nagasaki and sense a resemblance in the amount of damage it did, I'm sure Japanese-U.S. relations are the last things on their mind right now.

They should all be black-listed.

Bra-buying in China.

This is different from any other experience I've had in the States. 

I was determined to find myself a good, cheap (plain) bra while over here since I left/shrank out of many at home. Luckily, their cup system isn't too difficult to navigate. It's virtually the same (with 32s being extremely easy to find), but some stores use centimeters - 70, 75, 80, etc. - and the same cup sizes. Noting that most of the Chinese people my non-Asian American cohorts have seen are Olympic gymnasts, it must be said that finding a bra my in size was not at all difficult. People are, again, all shapes and sizes here (though I have seen some tiny people).

I started off at Trust-Mart since they sell bras for 17.50元. Unfortunately, they only really offer one cup size for a 70-75 band: A. 80s (36s) were mostly Bs, and nothing was available beyond that point. I went into a really cute, cheap boutique and asked: 你有七十五C? Bu. The only other places selling bras were extremely expensive 110元 when I had just seen some for 17.50? Hellz no.

After dipping in and out of a couple more overpriced boutiques, I wound up at a store near South Gate. I think it was called Butterfly Dance, selling bras for 50-150元. I asked for one that was hei1, or black, and one of the employees motioned me towards the back and into the dressing room, where she continuously handed me bras to try on, then asked to see. From here is just another continuation of the lack of personal space I've experienced here. All the girls I've seen at the clubs are push-up bra masters, if I must say - they know what they're doing. She just reached straight into my bra and scooped them into the proper place. I've been re-arranged for shoots before and whatnot, but never had my boobs handled as such while bra-fitting - just grabbed, you know? In the States, everyone kind of... inches around, tries to avoid too much contact, isn't hands-on. I wasn't at all put off by her - it wasn't a big thing in her book - or at least she made it seem so. I left with a bra for 77元, or $11.

Such involved customer service is pretty common here. I am never not followed. And I don't know if it's because I'm a "rich" foreigner, or if it's all just like that. I think it's all just like that.  

From this post, I go into the dynamics of Chinese nightclubs (and how my decision above affected my reception). ._.' Awk.

Go China!

One of these children actually tried to sell me (and company) flowers. Ouch. 

Kids spotted peddling roses along bar street in wee hours; "Godmother" nabbed.

The police rescued a group of children, who were made to sell roses outside bars and clubs near Jiuyan Qiao, arresting the mastermind, reported Sichuan Online and West China City Daily.
The 48 year-old honcho surnamed Yang claims to be their godmother, as the kids' parents who are working away from home, have entrusted them to her care. From Anhui province, she runs a floral shop in Chengdu. Along with a man who drives her and the children around, Yang was taken to the Wangjiang Road Police Station...

...About 12 policemen from Wuhou District were deployed to Zhimin Dong Lu where the five children were at that night, near the Jiuyan Qiao nightlife district. Some of Chengdu's most popular clubs such as BABI II, Sucre, and Muse are located in that area.

Quick update.

A lot has happened in the week I haven't blogged. I'm going to be posting a lot about Chinese night clubs (probably tomorrow) and the awesome people I've met, but right now I'll give everyone the basics as to what's going on with me right now.

• I'm going to be able to graduate on time, and I'm extremely thankful TU's anthropology program is so supportive. I wish I was even close to stellar so I could do them better justice.
• My knowledge and recognition of characters is improving, but I still have issues remembering so many as they are being taught (15-20 new characters/words per night).
• I went to the visa extension office by myself  - I'll let you know soon how long I'll be able to stay now. Before the wedding, I mean.
• I took the metro back (which is probably its own blog) - I've never really seen anything like it (besides an airport). 
• I bought some presents (Libby)! 
• If anyone is interested in something in particular, I will take a picture of it for you. Challenge me! :) 

Other than that... I'm extremely tired of the spicy food here, and find the non-spicy things just as satisfying. I miss Chipotle, though. And Sarah, and Hope... And how's Howard? Grandma? I'm grateful for the ability to speak to my loved ones from thousands of miles away. If not, I would indeed be homesick. I miss Grandma's house a lot, though. Still looking for postcards for some of you.

Here's a random photo until I get the others off my camera.

Awkward teen chickens!

Chinese Hand Signs.

No one really stops to think about it, but body language can vary significantly from place to place - even from something as simple as counting. Here, they have a one-hand system of counting from 1 to 10.

When asking one of the pedicab/rickshaw drivers if he could take us to our dorm, he responded with a "six" sign, to which I met with a bewildered stare - I thought he was making a rude gesture at me. From what one of the Chinese volunteers + the internet has told me, there are at least three signs for 7, as well as 10. The 7 pictured above is closest, but from what I've seen here, it is actually more like 9 - but with the pinky.

Three Things...

One. Whoever says "[When] You're in _________, you should speak _________," clearly doesn't know how difficult it is to learn another language. I'm giving my all, but I just feel like I'm drowning right now. I know it isn't all supposed to immediately come to me, but I feel so severely hindered in my expression that I'm developing a different perspective on how little I've chosen to verbally express myself at home. However, it is still a significant amount compared to my capabilities here.

Also, we need to differentiate the standards we set for ourselves and the standards we set for the "other." Jane H. Hill has written some especially effective summations of this. As Americans, we so often fail to speak the "standard"/"proper" language in the first place, yet still hold foreigners to higher standards than we do ourselves. I, for instance, found myself saying "wanna" instead of "want to," which I'm fairly sure is frustrating to those individuals that are learning - and speaking - the standard. In coming to Chengdu, most people speak Sichuanhua and not Putonghua (Mandarin), the dialect I've chosen to study. I do hear a difference, and it is rather slurred and drawling, with completely different term usage. It is unfortunate that in many instances they are fully capable of understanding me... but when they open their mouths, my brain shuts down - I don't recognize a thing. I feel ridiculously stupid, but I shouldn't... Learning new languages is hard, especially as a monoglot, and especially if you're illiterate.

Two. I was really sick last night. I was bent on taking a half-hour nap before class, which I did... only to wake up 43 minutes late, suddenly having to vomit. Normally in such a situation, our bodies are actually giving us two options: diarrhea, or projectile vomit. I know I'm probably grossing some people out, but I was severely ill and opted not to throw up. I was dehydrated and bed-ridden until about 7-8pm. After taking imodium and drinking a shit-ton of water, I lost access to my first option and started throwing up. I felt much better... and I feel much better, but still weak. I couldn't even do my homework since I was knocked out for almost 15 straight hours and had dreams about poor Chinese people rolling me in garbage and giving me traditional medicine until I was rehabilitated. 

Three. After walking 5-7 blocks to the subway, I went down the stairs and promptly turned back around; it looks like an underground airport... I was too scared to even buy a ticket. Feeling frustrated and yearning for familiarity, I decided to try out a KFC or McDonald's that I had passed on the way there. Everyone stared from the windows of KFC as I squinted awkwardly at the menu, realizing McDonald's was probably easier to order from. When I got there, all I could muster up was "qi," or 7, and "xie xie." The chicken sandwich was better than a Peter's Tex-Mex burger, and the fries tasted lighter - similar, but the oil they used was clearly different and less meaty. And the chicken was chicken - brown inside, not some weird white steroid depository. I'll post a picture of the ad for it, since I didn't have my camera at the time I ate it. Finally... I feel full. The way I normally am full.