PART 2: Don’t Ask… Money

Hey guys,

So when I first arrived in China I made a blog post entitled “Don’t Ask…” and referenced the laundry system in the hotel building. I made some witty remarks about seemingly having to fight for every scrap of information as nothing is offered freely and left it at that.

Well, be amazed as I return to you with Part 2 of “Don’t Ask..”

I first decided to open a bank account after realising that my Visa card from Australia was smacking me with a $15.00 fee every time I withdrew money. I had also discovered that shops here do not accept Visa cards which are not affiliated with a Chinese bank and don’t even try to purchase anything online without a local bankcard.

I love a good challenge, and what better challenge than dealing with a bank in your second language.

With my trusty PLECO dictionary app., I managed to open an account with ICBC and set-up internet banking. “Easy” I thought gleefully to myself “Online transaction here I come!”

But alas, on arrival home I was unable to download the online banking program to use the ‘USB password-thingy’ they gave me…because my Internet was too updated. Is that even a thing? Apparently I was running Firefox 11.2, which was incompatible with their software which required Firefox 8.

Ok, China.

Regardless, the instructions were all in Chinese and I didn’t want to muck around with it.

So, making a plea to my parents back home I got them to send through money from my Australian account to China via Western Union.

The money was taken from the Australian account. One week…Two weeks…nearly three weeks later, still no money on my card. I was panicking, imagining all sorts of horrific circumstances akin to a package that had recently been lost in transit to China from home.

Western Union had sent the money, they had done their part, so that meant there was trouble on my end.

Not even bothering with PLECO dictionary this time, I strode into the bank and spoke loudly in broken Chinese, ‘My money is gone-what-the-hell-you-gonna-do-about-it.”

A friendly woman scurried out and asked me a few questions, got me to demonstrate to her that the card was indeed empty. She then took me into a quiet back room where there sat rows of bespectacled men, all stamping piles of paper with red, rubber stamps. One guy was even wearing a waist coat. It was strangely reminiscent of a movie I once saw which was set in 19th Century London.

The friendly woman handed the card to one man sitting at the end of the line and whispered something so him. With a nod, he ceased stamping and turned instead to a pile of seemingly random papers. Slowly he shuffled through the pile, mumbling things to himself and continuing to ignore me.

Finally, he pulled out a piece of paper from the bottom and showed it to me with a flourish. “McCall” it had written on it, I nodded.”You needed to come pick this up weeks ago” he said, and glared at me accusingly. “I…have…to pick up?’ My language degenerated due to disbelief.  He nodded. “Everytime I transfer… need to pick up?” Again, a nod. Why didn’t they tell me this when I first opened the account? When I get called a 外国人 （waiguoren: foreigner) on a daily basis I assume it’s because people recognise that I’m not from around here.

The man put the money on my card, I thanked him and turned to walk away. The voice in my head, recalling my laundry experience, told me to stop and think. I then asked him: “Is that everything? I can withdraw money now?”

Turned out that I still needed to go to the second floor of the bank to get my money, which was in USD, transferred into RMB before it was actually useable.

Don’t ask…

(FINAL NOTE: I would actually advise everyone to organise a secure form of money whilst still in their home country. Get a Visa, make it Internationally enabled to rid you of a whopping fee. Travellers cheques are also a good secondary option. Then, if you do decide that you want a Chinese bank account to make your life here that much easier, it is a simple process of opening the account and withdrawing the cash to deposit immediately. Please be aware that there was no one in this bank who could speak English, therefore a dictionary or a translator are crucial if you don’t speak the language well, also it is possible to arrange a consultation with an English staff member in advance. I also know that some larger banks in different countries have partner banks, so check if your bank has a Chinese partner as both banks can advise you about dealings and processes of the other. )

Peace out!

At the ICBC Bank in Nanjing (Photo: Emccall 10/13)

VIP

Proof that the next adventure might be just around the corner.

Forgoing the weekend travel for some quality time in Nanjing, some friends and I decided to check out a band that we had seen advertised as part of the International Jazz festival.

There were no details other than the name of the venue, “ZhongShan Golf Resort.” The taxi driver was confused, but after pulling out a couple of maps he nodded to us confidently.

It wasn’t until we pulled up to a set of wrought iron gates that we got any sort of inkling about what was to come. We all simultaneously shrank into our seats as the resort came into view…it was magnificent. Surely, this is the wrong place. We walked through the revolving doors. Surely, they’re going to tell us that they don’t want us riffraff in here. We walked past the dining hall and the indoor pool and up winding staircases. Surely, someone will stop us…
We were then led by a attendant through the building. We heard music drifting through the polished marble corridor. We were almost at the door…and were finally stopped.

The doorman bowed to us, “And…what company were you ladies with tonight?”

Anja stepped forward, “Ah..Nanjing University…?”

We were already planning our hasty retreat.

The doorman paused, confused, he clearly didn’t know whether we were supposed to be there or not. “Oh, international students?”

We nodded simultaneously. The doorman apologised and then bowed us through.

He bowed us through.

“Act like we belong” I hissed to the others, as we stepped into the function room filled with waiters and foreign business people. And canapes. Hesitantly, we found a table and stood to listen to the band. Before long, however, we noticed the bar tender was pouring drinks and leaving them on the bar. I glided (in my thongs) over to the bar and snagged some glasses of Red for us.

No one took any notice.

Then we started eying off the tables laden with food. We walked up and took a truffle each. And ate it. It was delicious!

So from there it was a short step to grabbing plates and piling them high with little delicate cheesecakes and chocolates and shot glasses of yoghurt and then to decide we needed to eat dinner there too and so we grabbed oysters and caviar and Western food which we hadn’t even seen in over a month.

Eating and drinking and dancing to the band from Belgium (Les Busiciens, check them out!), only in China.

On the way out we got given the band’s CD, a gift bag, a voucher to use the golf range and were wished a ‘safe flight home’

“Thankyou” I replied, as the manager handed me his business card and asked me to return soon “It was a splendid evening.”

We then got the doorman to call us a taxi to the top of the driveway, as everyone else had remembered to arrange for a chauffeur.

(Check out Les Busicians at: http://www.busiciens.be/en/index.html)

The golf resort (Photo: emccall 10/13)

The band playing in the Function Room
(Photo: Emccall 10/13)

North Zhejiang, Lin’An Mountain

Go to historically significant place, buy ticket, wait in line, push past other tourists, take photo, go home.

Why does China only seem to cater for this style of travel that allows you afterwards to say “Been there” rather than “Done that”  ? China is a huge, diverse country that has  the potential to satisfy adventure travelers, but even scanning through the Lonely Planet Guide yields very little.

I am totally sick of Chinese style travel.

Myself and Anja decided this whilst in a queue for the umpteenth time.

We tried to buy tickets to mountainous Chengdu (West China, relatively close to Tibet.) Unfortunately we could only find seats on the slowest train (30hours!!)

Determined, we began a hunt frantically for something a bit more accessible from Nanjing (Think: Google searching “Adventure” “China” “Real” “No People” “Mountain”)

Surprisingly, there was one result that seemed to match all of our keywords.

http://www.yejocircle.com

YEJO Circle, a company dedicated entirely to adventure traveling in China, based in Shanghai.

This fairly new, grassroots company offers travel to all areas of China (including Tibet) and  includes kayaking, yoga retreats, martial arts, painting retreats, aqua trekking, rock climbing, horse riding and cultural encounters.

I emailed them with tears in my eyes and we were quickly signed onto to a group which was going to a small mountain village for a few days of mountain climbing, only 5 hours out of Shanghai. Transport, accommodation, home-cooked meals and two amazing guides with a wealth of knowledge about the area all for less than $150.00 AU.

The other travelers came from many different countries but they were all very like-minded, friendly, open people. We quickly swapped WeChat ID’s and agreed to keep in contact.

The actual hiking was very tough, and I was thankful for my expensive hiking gear. The weather unfortunately was less than ideal and I couldn’t remember what it was like to be dry after two days of heavy and constant rain.

Sliding down the side of Ling’An Shan in the mud on my bum, desperately clinging onto a rope tied to a bamboo plant, keeping an eye out for leeches on my socks, wet through from 5 hours out in monsoonal rain, all I could think of was “I am so glad that I didn’t have to wait in line for this” with the biggest grin on my face.

Anja and I left with a bag of wet clothes, new friends, litres of locally brewed 白酒 (baijiu, rice wine) and our heads swimming with plans for our next adventure.

Me, completely wet and completely happy
(Photo: Emccall 10/13)

The view from Lin’An Shan down the valley
(Photo: Emccall 10/13)

Thoughts on a long bus ride… Shanghai

So here I am.

I’m currently sitting on a bus on my way to a small mountain village roughly 5 hours from Shanghai.
I’m watching the battery bar on my phone cautiously.

The group we’re travelling with consists of about 15 or so people from various parts of the world. Since it is 黄金周 (Huangjinzhou: golden week) the National holiday marking the founding of the PRC, most of these people who are here are making the most of their time off of work or study.

The group left from Shanghai, so myself and Anja (also studying at nanjing uni) made the two hour trip to the most modern of china’s cities.

We spent a couple of days in Shanghai enjoying a very low level of air pollution (due to the coastal positioning), the food (chillies, fresh, seafood, 汤包 ‘tangbao’ dumplings filled with soup) and of course the city lights. Personally, I couldn’t help but be ecstatic by the hotel bathroom and the abundance of bread.

We went to the Shanghai museum but the line was huge, so instead we wandered around people’s square and did some market shopping. It can be quite expensive in Shanghai and unfortunately the market stall owners seem quite reluctant to haggle with us.

We also went clubbing with some classmates from Nanjing Uni and some other exchange students. We went into the fanciest club that we could find and were immediately greeted by a ‘host’ working at the club whose job it is to ensure that you are always having a good time. Their duties include providing you and your friends with free entry, endless free drinks, telling the DJ your music preferences and regularly drinking with you to the call of 干杯!  (ganbei: cheers)  I’ve decided that the clubbing scene in China is…strange. The Chinese people prefer to sit down together at a table, eating fruit and other snacks whilst drinking copious amounts of alcohol through playing dice-related drinking games. Completely ignoring the loud techno music, strobe lighting and dancing foreigners.

Com on, a club is where you go to dance, because it is literally IMPOSSIBLE to make yourself heard for more than the shouted ‘HI HOW ARE YOU!!?” Although to be honest, it seems like the Chinese people do much the same thing in pubs and karaoke bars. Both which are impossible to hold any form of discussion in.

Also, did I mention that there was a live karaoke dance performance by Russians wearing studded leather and a clown making people balloon animals. Yeah. Weird.

For our recovery day, we watched an epic 3D IMAX mainland Chinese movie called ‘Young Inspector D.’ I think it was Part 2 of a series, but can I just say the following things…

“Sherlock Holmes in the Tang Dynasty, swamp creature, ninjas shooting killer bees, sea serpent, riding a horse underwater, reoccurring eunuch urine jokes.”

Yeah, it had everything.

When we got bored of all this, we grabbed the metro to a random station called 老门站 (laomen) and stumbled across an incredible street market of fresh food. Wandering around that area, barely 20 minutes from the international brand commercial district of shanghai we pondered on the wonderful dichotomy that exists in china.

So now, we are escaping the cities in favour of a trip to a small village followed by hiking up a largely- unknown mountain called ling’an Shan.

My battery bar is fading, so peace ya’ll.

Bustling metropolis, Shanghai (photo: Emcall 10/13)

Shanghai clubbing with a clown
(Photo: Emccall 10/13)

地铁、外国人 (The underground and foreigners)

Please line up
(Photo: Emccall 09/13)

This photo was taken in the Xi’An underground station.

Is it just me…or is there something strange about this photo?

This is one of the most outstanding instances of white-washing that I have ever come across. In the world’s largest monoculture (China is made up of 92% ethnic Han Chinese) I want to know why there appears this instructional ad which is inclusive only of Anglo-Saxon, blonde haired children.
In China, this happens all too often.

Walk through any public area and you are bombarded with brand advertisements which are filled exclusively with Western models. They aren’t even the typical ads you would see in any Australian city, their Western-ness is more pronounced. Larger, shinier, more colourful eyes, whiter skin and too much bleach-blonde hair to handle.

Growing up in a commercialised society myself, I understand all too well the effects that models (tall, skinny, perfect smile) can have on one’s self-image. However, I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for people living in China, not only being shown that the ideal woman/man is taller or skinnier or prettier or more muscular…they are also being shown that the ideal woman/man (child…?) is of a completely different ethnic group than the large majority of their country’s population.

The same way that I argue for models who are have an average clothing size, I argue that China needs more images of Chinese people in their shopping malls…and in their underground as well.

日常生活 (Daily Life)

Hey kids!

So it has been nearly a month of living in China. This begs the question of what I do with my self on a day-to-day, week by week basis. Well, I’m glad you asked.

Language classes constitute the majority of my daily life. Monday to Friday I wake up at 7.40am for my 8am start. This is a glorious luxury considering I would normally have to wake up, get ready and travel 1 and a half hours to get to class. Here, I roll out of bed, make myself some green tea in a flask (so Chinese,) briefly entertain the thought that I can make downstairs in time to buy 包子(baozi) the most common breakfast food here, realise that I totally don’t have time, rush off with my books to the building directly next to my accommodation and get to class with a whole minute to spare.

I take four subjects here which are assigned by Nanjing University. People are streamed into classes depending on their HSK level or their entrance exam scores. 综合 (comprehensive Chinese language) runs for two hours on Mon, Tues, Thurs and Fri. 口语(oral Chinese language) is for two hours on Mon, Tues and Wed. 听力 (Aural Chinese) is for two hours on Wed and Fri. Finally, I have business Chinese from 10-12 on Thursday. So, in total I attend roughly 20 hours of classes. You are also given a timetable of add-on subjects which aren’t for credit, but are to give you an extra edge on your Chinese language. I have selected 中国画 (Chinese traditional painting) as well as 书法 (Chinese calligraphy) which, like the language classes, are taught exclusively in Chinese.

I have found the language classes very similar to my classes in my home University, probably because the Chinese teachers at home are native Chinese and studied teaching in China. The difference is, of course, that you can’t request an English translation even if you really really want one. By having only Chinese to focus on, and a Chinese environment, I find that I retain what I have learned much quicker than usual. However, the work load is much tougher and every week I am learning around 150 new words which we are tested on in various mediums (i.e. discussion, writing test, oral test, aural test.)

I still retain my previous sentiments that the method of teaching Chinese to foreigners is incredibly inefficient and over-emphasises 普通话, 北方话(standard, northern Mandarin) pronunciation as well as ROTE learning to write hundreds of 汉字 (Chinese characters.) In reality, only a very small percentage of Chinese people can/will speak with the ‘standard’ accent and ‘standard’ vocabulary and it can be hard to understand someone speaking in Xi’An or even Shanghai if you’ve only spent time learning Chinese from Beijing teachers, CD’s and textbooks.

Furthermore, in the 21st Century writing becomes less and less important. Thanks to efficient pinyin input systems, Chinese can be typed incredibly easily without knowing each and every stroke of the character. Indeed, often native Chinese will struggle to remember certain characters when they write (see: http://articles.latimes.com/2010/jul/12/world/la-fg-china-characters-20100712 New York Times, Demick, 2010)

I wish that the Chinese language education system stopped wasting time and confusing students who are desperately trying to master a second language far removed from their own.

Going back to my original topic, I also keep myself busy with sampling local cuisine (a post to come on this at a later date,) 太极拳(taijiquan: Taiji; Taichi) lessons twice a week, 瑜伽 (yujia, yoga) twice a week at the Universities sports club, sporadic Zumba dancing on the running track and tutoring English to a young Chinese girl for a couple of hours a week. I have also signed up to find a local language partner to help with my Chinese speaking and for 二胡 (erhu, Chinese cello) lessons from a private teacher.

The weekends are usually spent partying, shopping in markets, studying, seeing Nanjing, traveling or recovering.

I see this list and I realise that I’ve simply replaced my usual hobbies and daily activities with the China equivalents. Oh dear.