My New Hometown
Jessica calls my apartment phone with her cell to see if it works. It rings. She writes her number on a piece of paper. "Okay, if you have any difficult things, you call me, okay?" I take the number and I assure her that I'll be fine. I'm lying, of course. I am totally incapable of taking care of myself. It is my policy, however, to never display weakness in front of a pretty girl. As it turns out, this policy is incredibly maladaptive.
In order to demonstrate my confidence, I quickly usher Jessica out of my apartment. "Okay, Jessica! See you later!" A cheery wave and she is gone. I'm not too worried though, because if I have any difficult things I've got her number. And anyway, I'm on the campus of a University with 20,000 students - surely all of my necessities are within easy reach.
My first order of business, according to Maslow's hierarchy of needs, is to find food. No problem. On the way in, Jessica pointed out the school cafeteria, which she characterizes as "very cheap". Actually, she says it more like "wery chiep", but she says it with such enthusiasm that I am also excited. I take stock of my assets - I have a suitcase, an apartment full of filthy, useless paraphernalia, and about 150 of China's currency, the Yuan Renminbi. This is all the cash I managed to salvage from my Hong Kong debacle, which really isn't much when you realize it's about $20 US. But the cafeteria is wery chiep, so I'm not worried.
I go out into the 95 degree heat and I locate the cafeteria, a massive, three story building. The first thing I notice in looking through the window is that most of the tables and chairs are upside down. There are also more rolled-up carpets than I am used to seeing in a cafeteria. There is also a big chain lock on the door right in front of me. The cafeteria is closed.
I walk up and down the building's levels looking for some indication of when it might be open. Some of you may have traveled in Europe and encountered unusual languages. You may have experienced the thrill of deciphering those languages when you saw them on signs and such, due to their similarity to the English language. Good for you. Those languages are written in your alphabet. East Asia? Welcome to illiteracy!
I did spend the last year in Japan, where they use the same symbols (albeit a bit differently), so I have some dim awareness of the meaning of these glyphs. One of the signs seems to say something about a cherry tree and three bowls of rice. Another is apparently a warning sign to students concerning the river flooding, or slippery floors, I'm not sure which. I am not making progress.
At this point, I am very hungry and I am beginning to get quite thirsty from sweating out in the sun. I can't drink the water in my apartment - not even the locals drink the water. I need to find a store or something, quickly. I am in China twelve hours and already I am reduced to survival conditions.
Having absolutely no idea where to go, I walk along a road (read: dirt path) in front of the university. Eventually I reach a row a buildings. At first, I'm not sure what I'm looking at. In front of one of the buildings is a woman cooking something in a wok over an oil-drum fire. Is this...a restaurant? It is. People are seated at picnic benches awaiting the woman's oil-drum creations. Next to the restaurant is a building with no door but strips of heavy vinyl that mark the entranceway. I think that it may be a shop of some kind, but it has no lights and I can't see inside.
The people scattered around the area are all starting straight at me, regarding me with a mixture of wonder and wariness. Some of them have stopped what they're doing, even stopped in their tracks to stare. A few point and whisper, but most of them seem to be earnestly trying to absorb as much of my image as possible, as though the sight of me is rainfall and they are cacti. I enter the darkened building.
It turns out to be a store of sorts. Imagine an open-air convenience store that has never been cleaned and that has no lights. This is more or less what I discover. Three rows of mostly empty shelves. I look around for anything that looks like it might have caloric value. I grab a tube of potato chips. The front of the canister promises chips with a "piquancy flavor". Since I like piquant foods, I decide to buy them. And a big bottle of water. And toilet paper, which I figure I'll need at some point.
The whole time I am searching the shelves, two middle-school-aged girls follow me around, from row to row. When I turn to smile at them, they quickly retreat, only to reappear later. When I finally catch them face-to-face, I say "hello". The taller girl flees, but her braver friend thrusts her jaw out defiantly, shouts "HELLO!" and then runs out of the store giggling.
When I get to the counter, the clerk totals me up - 12 yuan. This alarms me - I now have 138 yuan to last me until I get paid for the first time. I have no idea when that is. I need to find a way to get cash. In the meantime, however, I won't die of hunger, thirst, or lack of piquancy. I walk up and down the road for quite a distance, and around the perimeter of the university. All of the little shops in the area are basically the same - regular convenience-store type fare - no cleaning supplies, no real food. The only ATMs I see are on the university campus. I try my card - no dice.
I get back to my apartment and tear into the chips and water. It's not a very satisfying meal, but at this point I need anything. Realizing the absurd desperation of my situation I decide I have to call Jessica and find out where I can find things like a bank and potable water. I need food. I need cleaning products. I need cash. And I need them all soon.
I pick up my phone - dial tone, good. I punch in Jessica's number, and I wait while it connects. Suddenly, an automated voice is speaking in Chinese. I don't understand most of it, but I recognize the first phrase - "I'm sorry". No matter where you go in the world, an automated voice saying "I'm sorry" always means the same thing - you're shit out of luck. I try Jessica's number a variety of different ways - with the area code, without it, with the country code even. Every time I get the international SOL response.
I am beginning to feel numb. I apparently have no way of getting in touch with my caretaker. When I run out of my 138 yuan, I have no way of getting food or water. It's twelve days until classes start. Chips are seven yuan a can, and a liter of water is three. Maybe I can survive on a can of chips and a bottle of water a day until then. I think the toilet paper will hold out.
The sun is starting to set in Wuhan, and I am exhausted. I know it's not the best coping strategy, but I feel like I need to sleep and remove myself from this situation, just for a little while. My new bed is out of the question, as the mattress smells too strongly of mold and I have no clean sheets. I lie down on the grimy, cigarette-burned couch. I roll up a pair of jeans and use them as a pillow. My feet poke through the metal lattice that makes up the armpiece of the couch. I fall asleep.
In order to demonstrate my confidence, I quickly usher Jessica out of my apartment. "Okay, Jessica! See you later!" A cheery wave and she is gone. I'm not too worried though, because if I have any difficult things I've got her number. And anyway, I'm on the campus of a University with 20,000 students - surely all of my necessities are within easy reach.
My first order of business, according to Maslow's hierarchy of needs, is to find food. No problem. On the way in, Jessica pointed out the school cafeteria, which she characterizes as "very cheap". Actually, she says it more like "wery chiep", but she says it with such enthusiasm that I am also excited. I take stock of my assets - I have a suitcase, an apartment full of filthy, useless paraphernalia, and about 150 of China's currency, the Yuan Renminbi. This is all the cash I managed to salvage from my Hong Kong debacle, which really isn't much when you realize it's about $20 US. But the cafeteria is wery chiep, so I'm not worried.
I go out into the 95 degree heat and I locate the cafeteria, a massive, three story building. The first thing I notice in looking through the window is that most of the tables and chairs are upside down. There are also more rolled-up carpets than I am used to seeing in a cafeteria. There is also a big chain lock on the door right in front of me. The cafeteria is closed.
I walk up and down the building's levels looking for some indication of when it might be open. Some of you may have traveled in Europe and encountered unusual languages. You may have experienced the thrill of deciphering those languages when you saw them on signs and such, due to their similarity to the English language. Good for you. Those languages are written in your alphabet. East Asia? Welcome to illiteracy!
I did spend the last year in Japan, where they use the same symbols (albeit a bit differently), so I have some dim awareness of the meaning of these glyphs. One of the signs seems to say something about a cherry tree and three bowls of rice. Another is apparently a warning sign to students concerning the river flooding, or slippery floors, I'm not sure which. I am not making progress.
At this point, I am very hungry and I am beginning to get quite thirsty from sweating out in the sun. I can't drink the water in my apartment - not even the locals drink the water. I need to find a store or something, quickly. I am in China twelve hours and already I am reduced to survival conditions.
Having absolutely no idea where to go, I walk along a road (read: dirt path) in front of the university. Eventually I reach a row a buildings. At first, I'm not sure what I'm looking at. In front of one of the buildings is a woman cooking something in a wok over an oil-drum fire. Is this...a restaurant? It is. People are seated at picnic benches awaiting the woman's oil-drum creations. Next to the restaurant is a building with no door but strips of heavy vinyl that mark the entranceway. I think that it may be a shop of some kind, but it has no lights and I can't see inside.
The people scattered around the area are all starting straight at me, regarding me with a mixture of wonder and wariness. Some of them have stopped what they're doing, even stopped in their tracks to stare. A few point and whisper, but most of them seem to be earnestly trying to absorb as much of my image as possible, as though the sight of me is rainfall and they are cacti. I enter the darkened building.
It turns out to be a store of sorts. Imagine an open-air convenience store that has never been cleaned and that has no lights. This is more or less what I discover. Three rows of mostly empty shelves. I look around for anything that looks like it might have caloric value. I grab a tube of potato chips. The front of the canister promises chips with a "piquancy flavor". Since I like piquant foods, I decide to buy them. And a big bottle of water. And toilet paper, which I figure I'll need at some point.
The whole time I am searching the shelves, two middle-school-aged girls follow me around, from row to row. When I turn to smile at them, they quickly retreat, only to reappear later. When I finally catch them face-to-face, I say "hello". The taller girl flees, but her braver friend thrusts her jaw out defiantly, shouts "HELLO!" and then runs out of the store giggling.
When I get to the counter, the clerk totals me up - 12 yuan. This alarms me - I now have 138 yuan to last me until I get paid for the first time. I have no idea when that is. I need to find a way to get cash. In the meantime, however, I won't die of hunger, thirst, or lack of piquancy. I walk up and down the road for quite a distance, and around the perimeter of the university. All of the little shops in the area are basically the same - regular convenience-store type fare - no cleaning supplies, no real food. The only ATMs I see are on the university campus. I try my card - no dice.
I get back to my apartment and tear into the chips and water. It's not a very satisfying meal, but at this point I need anything. Realizing the absurd desperation of my situation I decide I have to call Jessica and find out where I can find things like a bank and potable water. I need food. I need cleaning products. I need cash. And I need them all soon.
I pick up my phone - dial tone, good. I punch in Jessica's number, and I wait while it connects. Suddenly, an automated voice is speaking in Chinese. I don't understand most of it, but I recognize the first phrase - "I'm sorry". No matter where you go in the world, an automated voice saying "I'm sorry" always means the same thing - you're shit out of luck. I try Jessica's number a variety of different ways - with the area code, without it, with the country code even. Every time I get the international SOL response.
I am beginning to feel numb. I apparently have no way of getting in touch with my caretaker. When I run out of my 138 yuan, I have no way of getting food or water. It's twelve days until classes start. Chips are seven yuan a can, and a liter of water is three. Maybe I can survive on a can of chips and a bottle of water a day until then. I think the toilet paper will hold out.
The sun is starting to set in Wuhan, and I am exhausted. I know it's not the best coping strategy, but I feel like I need to sleep and remove myself from this situation, just for a little while. My new bed is out of the question, as the mattress smells too strongly of mold and I have no clean sheets. I lie down on the grimy, cigarette-burned couch. I roll up a pair of jeans and use them as a pillow. My feet poke through the metal lattice that makes up the armpiece of the couch. I fall asleep.
posted by Devin Snow at 4:10 PM
3 Comments:
I always thought that if one had access to a computer and the internet, that nothing bad could ever happen to you...
Devin, your situation reminds me of when i had to spend a whole month with the Marines out in "the bush" in Okinawa. We were out in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a steaming jungle, yet we had MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) to sustain us. Are you close to the Great Wall or what?
All in all, i'm proud of you for taking such a challenge. Currently, I'm working in an international school with tons of Americans who have taught overseas and very much cultured, so I think this will definitely build your soul and mind in ways many amerikans here won't ever imagine. Growth is awesome and you are definitely surviving man!
I saw a flick of mother theresa's work in impoverished india today and well, at least you are alive and well! Keep postin' brotha!
Piquancy is important in a chip. That is a fact, its science...
According to many of the Japanese people I have been asking, in China, they actually eat filth. Many of the sensais in my school have verified that your predecessor left you with a veritable banquet in the apartment. Apparently, cigarette-burned filth is especially piquant.
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