Stick and I were in a taxi home tonight, chatting about this and that.
“What’s the word for left again?” Stick asked me, “Is it zuo?”
Our driver hit the brakes and did a traffic-stopping left turn into a nearby driveway.
“Guess you got the tone right.”
So I’ve narrowed it down to two possible jobs.
One job is Singapore Academy, with small classes, teenage students, all the things I want, but they weren’t able to meet my salary expectation, and between losing our double housing bonus and moving to a more expensive area, it’ll mean a loss in our monthly income. They’re closer to the center of town, in a nice international area.
The second job is a same-old same-old oral English class for adult, typical ESL in China, but they are willing to pay me more than double my current salary, give me free (Chinese) food and free housing in the hotel where the classes are held. Unfortunately, it’s in the boonies of Fengtai, where it’s actually considered Fengtai Town and not a district of Beijing.
Both jobs are 34 hours/week, both can do my visa, both interviewers called me a gifted teacher, both jobs do not involve dealing with FUB (that would be a certain Fairly Useless Boss) and both employers are waiting for me to make up my mind.
We’ve been hoping that I’ll find a new job close by, so we can keep this apartment, and stay in a nice neighborhood near Manfred and Xuemei, but the hot water saga has changed that. Going through the balcony to get into the kitchen to pick up the dishes to go back on the balcony to carry the dishes into the bathroom to wash them in shower isn’t working out.
Stick also wants to jump ship, and Singapore Academy is in a great neighborhood where he can find work nearby, while Oral English pays more than our combined salaries so he can take a long time looking for a new job.
It’s very hard to turn down a job where I’d be making double my salary. But, If I’m going to take a job just based on the pinkies (what we call a 100 RMB note), I should just go home and make an American salary. Then again, I also don’t want to be worried about money or not be able to have cool Chinese experiences because we can’t afford it.
Xuemei doesn’t really need to identify herself on the phone. She’s the only one who calls and starts with “Ni hao, Liebchen!”
Today we stopped playing Civ long enough for lunch at Mexican Wave and a visit to the Guiyou silk market. (Stick’s discovered that if you don’t develop alphabet, but everyone else does, you really don’t need it to trade techs.) I suggest a couple margaritas before any shopping adventure.
Guiyou silk street is listed in Lonely Planet and so forth, and it’s enough of a landmark that I’ve used it to tell cabbies where Mexican Wave is, but I’ve never actually been inside. The first floor is a underwhelming mass of knockoffs, but as we made our way upstairs, each floor had better merchandise. We shifted through piles of injection-molded green plastic jade and mispelled namebrand clothes to find some great gifts to send home and some clothes for us. I think I’m more able to deal with the sensory overload of a Chinese mall nowadays but it could just be the margaritas.
Anyway, shopping with Stick is a laugh, because when the vendor suggests a three-digit idiot price, he responds with a single-digit counter offer. Bargaining is a crazy game; the vendor, Stick and I all know that the sweater’s worth between 20 and 30 RMB, but the vendor doesn’t know we know. The game is not whether we’ll pay the hilarious asking price, but will we pay 28 to be done quickly? Or hold out for 23? If she throws in something else, will we take 2 for 46?
There was a cool silkmaking demonstration on the second floor. Silk, like beer or bread, amazes me that it was ever first invented. I mean, who sees a caterpiller and turns it into a qipao? The demonstrator pulled the silkworm cocoons out of bucket of water and spread the wet silk over an oval frame. There was also a spinning machine but no one was using it when we were there. I thought of Seneca the Younger condemning silk as un-Roman luxury for immoral women.
The fourth floor of the mall was full of jewelry, stalls selling endless strands of pearls, coral, and jade, blown glass pendants, carved cinnabar bracelets, cloisonne hairsticks. I picked up some nice bracelets and showed them to Stick.
“Nice beads,” he said, “I’ll trade you Manhattan for them.”
Fantastic post from Mister Teacher on school regulations, third-graders and grade inflation called “Is a 50 good?” Dead on, and funny at the same time. I want to quote it here, but I can’t bring myself to chop up such a perfect post.
In Yantai, I used to have an electric outlet in my shower, now we have multiple outlets in the shower. These are bigger, so I suppose that’s an upgrade.
After a week without hot water, I was willing to take almost anything that offered a hot shower. Still, when we realized that the repairman was planning to leave with my computer’s power strip running through the shower area, Stick called Fairly Useless Boss, the one who’s in charge of our housing in China. Naturally, FUB told us that hers is exactly the same and it’s fine.
I want to believe her, really I do, but I’m not entirely sure how to take a shower here without serious bodily harm. With a little care, I could probably avoid smashing my head on the water heater, but then there’s this extention cord running right through the shower. I mean, I’m not an engineer or anything, but doesn’t something bad happen when you mix water and electricity? Isn’t that why I’m not supposed to blog from the bathtub?
Also because we now have a hot-water tank instead of a water heater for the whole apartment, we don’t have hot water in the bathroom sink, the washing machine or the kitchen sink. I’m not entirely sure about this, because I don’t really wash dishes or clothes, but Stick tells me you’re meant to use hot water.
Edit: The drama continues!
Yesterday, I stopped by the Modern Beauty Salon in the Ginza Mall, mainly to use their shower. I needed the shower because on Monday our hot water heater died in spectacular fashion. (Obviously, calls to a certain Fairly Useless Boss have received the assurance that she’s working very hard to solve our problem and that any delays are not her fault) We’ve been heating water in the electric kettle, pouring it into a basin and sponge-bathing, just like in my first apartment in Yantai, but it’s not really the ideal situation.
Because I had walked into the salon on the off chance that they could do my eyebrows (and let me have a shower), there wasn’t a regular room available, and I was assigned to a “slimming room”. White spa towels, with a rose and gold silk cover on the table, red silky lampshades, and wallpaper with gold fu symbols. It was almost a shame to leave my battered jeans and boots in such a pretty room.
There was also some kind of slimming machine in the room, a big yellow monstrosity. I’m not quite sure what it was supposed to do, but I’m pretty sure Dr. Crusher would have known how to use it.
Oh, the shower. I might be slightly biased here because I hadn’t showered since Sunday, but the shower was incredible. Hot water, water pressure, scented shampoo. Did I mention the hot water? Also the shower stall was made out of black stone tiles and small mother-of-pearl mosaics. It was gorgeous and I would have been more impressed if I hadn’t been distracted by the hot water.
When I got out the shower there was an attendant standing by the stall door, holding an extra towel for my hair. It felt a bit odd at the time but now I wonder if I can get Stick to do that.
Another attendant was waiting in my room with a cup of tea, weird Chinese candy, and a bowl of rose petal water. I knew what to do with tea and weird candy (drink one and ignore the other) but I’ve never actually been presented with a bowl of rose petals. Pretty cool! Although it was mostly psychological… it didn’t really feel any different from plain water.
I did pretty well with my limited Chinese (my primary students taught me most basic body parts), but when the attendant wanted me to take my robe off and wrap up in a towel, though, the thought of a naked waiguoren was too much, and she resorted to sticking out the towel and mumbling quickly into her shoulder. Needless to say, it took me an extra long time to catch on to these instructions, but eventually I did, and lay down on the table.
I’ve often complained that nothing is fast and simple in China, but it finally worked out to my advantage. You can’t get eyebrow shaping without a facial. And that means an hour’s worth of pressure massage, warm oily stuff, cold face-creamy stuff, a different kind of a massage with a different kind of cream, a neck and arm massage while the facial potions worked their magic, oh, yeah that eyebrow stuff, then another massage with another cream. Amazing. I didn’t want it to end.
Unfortunately the price I got (88 RMB) was a special new-customers promotion, and before I could leave, I got harassed to buy a package of 20 facials for 6000 RMB, or become a member for 5000 RMB and get 50% off everything, or at least try the rose bath and body massage package. The hard sell ruined my mellow feelings, and actually made me less interested in returning, but I may go back for a bath.
Things in China are a little different. At home, a calculator might come with extra batteries. In China, batteries come with a free calculator.
I imagine this one as one of those Amazon recommendations. “If you enjoyed electronic devices, try silverware!”
Life in China has caused Stick and me to ask each other questions that we hadn’t really considered at home. What can we live without? What are our goals? Where will we be in five years? How much privacy does one need for Shandong Stomach?
And then, should we get the batteries with the nail clippers or with the wristwatch?
Looks like the blue background makes people want to comment. Thanks! Great to hear from you! Except for the one guy who keeps telling me how to buy discount drugs from Canadian pharmacies, I don’t think he realizes I haven’t got those parts. Moving on.
If you’re reading this in a feedreader (ie if you’re in China) then not only are you missing my lovely new background, but the feed’s been pretty troublesome. It seems when I go back to a published post and fix typos improve my deathless prose, old posts reappear as new, making new posts easy to miss and causing general feed-reader havoc. Sorry! Not sure what to do about this one, maybe I should just quit spelling things wrong.
Finally, I installed Google Analytics a while back, which (among other things) lets you see what people were looking for when they came to my site. The most common search terms are variations on Violet Eclipse and my name, closely followed by people searching for shower photos. This misunderstanding is entirely my fault, but honestly, guys, they’re just pictures of the water heater.
The best Christmas present I can remember! Nutella shipped to Beijing!
She also sent us Munchkin Chthulu!
