Variations on a Theme

My school told me it would be no problem to renew my visa, if I bring in my passport one week before my visa is due to expire. I asked if I needed anything else, like a passport picture, but I was told I didn’t. (Is there any phrase that strikes fear into the expat heart like “We will take care of everything”?)

Two days later, one of the school’s secretaries came into my office.

“Sign here,” she told me, pushing an entirely-in-Chinese form at me.

“What is it?”

“It’s for your visa.”

“Ok, what is it?”

“It’s for your visa.”

“What does it say?”

“It’s for your visa.”

I realized that we were going to have another round of Maybe I Have No Idea, so I accepted the form, telling her I would have a friend translate it and I’d give it to her this afternoon.

“Where is your photo?” Office Twit then asked. If you’re keeping score at home, this is the same Office Twit who told me I didn’t need a picture two days ago.

But I’ve been in China for 9 months! I know how this works! I pulled out the rest of the sheet of passport photos that I was required to buy at my last visa renewal. I think Take that, Chinese Beaurocracy! might have escaped my lips.

“Maybe this is the wrong size,” she said, looking at my photos.

Now, I suppose I’ve set the precedent that all foreigners keep a supply of passport-style photos in their desks for just such an occasion. But honestly, do other expats keep multiple sizes and styles on hand?

“Oh. Ok. Where can I get the right size?”

“Maybe I don’t know.”

“What is the right size?”

“Maybe I don’t know.”

“I’ve had this conversation before. I’ll just ask < Office Manager > when she comes in.”

“If you do not have a photo soon, you can’t get a new visa.”

“When do you need it?”

“Maybe I don’t know.”

I’m really starting to pick up a theme here.

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In Yellow Wood

Today, my boss Will offered me really good terms to work in Yantai next year. (I’d get a lot of nice things, and none of that pesky responsibility junk) I really like my job, I like my students, and I make a decent salary. The solitude and the crazy adventures of expat life make a really good combination for a writer.

But I’m really sick of being treated like a celebrity with communicable leprosy. I’m constantly frustrated by my attempts at Mandarin. And, you might not have noticed, but I really hate the food here.

And, if I go home, I can be with Stick. I miss being a girlfriend even more than I miss cheese. More than movie theaters, rye bread, the quizzes in Cosmo, personal space and everything else on my list of things to fully appreciate when I go back home. But I don’t have a job, and when I go back to Western Mass, I won’t be an awesome China expat, just another new grad with little-to-no marketable skills.

I have to look at this like I’ve got a great boyfriend and a great job, and not as a choice between being lonely and being unsuccessful.

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Tragically Unhip

Most days, I don’t feel like an adult. I think that’s because I play games all day. As the teacher, it’s even more important to spit out my gum before class, and I have to remember to confiscate cards instead of playing them.

My friend Kristin sent me about a thousand Consumating invitations, and finally I had to give in. I kind of like their tagline “find people who don’t suck” but when I started to sign up, I realized I’m too old for this.

Consumating asks users to tag themselves with their favorite things, but I can’t be bothered to type up a list of bands, movies, TV shows and books. I don’t really want to be a list of obscure references that only other cool people will get. I don’t have a witty one-liner. I don’t have song lyrics to match my moods. I don’t have amusing answers to the weekly question. Basically, I’m not cool enough to have internet friends.

But I love Kristin so you can find me, tagged officially-too-old-for-this.

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Beijing: Love it or Hate it?

The I Heart Beijing Blog wants to know what you think about Beijing.


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Young (Again)

The other day, Young brought in his homework on Roman numerals from another class. I thought he wanted me to help him out with it, but he told me he was giving it to me because I like Rome!

Of course, the next day he tried to throw a desk at someone, so I can’t rest on my brilliant-teacher laurels just yet.

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As Seen In Yantai

Sometimes Chinese advertising leaves me confused. I can’t even tell
a spa from an abortion clinic
. Mostly it’s because I’m illiterate, though. These two are too good not to share.

This is an aisle of Gatsby hair care products for men. I can imagine how this one came about. A few years ago, a new grad came to work at a Chinese advertising company, and he was assigned to market a new line of Western-style beauty products. Tired of hearing from his coworkers that all Western literature is pointless because China has already written everything of importance, the disguntled English major named the product line after one of the most famous nouveau riche man in American literature.

It sounds totally plausible to me.

jissbon I saw this at the drugstore too, but I actually Googled for this picture, because I felt WAY too creepy taking a photo of a condom box to post on the internet. I can’t think of a less appropriate icon for a condom advertisement than a picture of sowing seeds. I just can’t. At least they’re called Jissbon and not named after a fortress that was breached…

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Chinese Blogging

The Chinese Blogger Conference is in Hangzhou this weekend. I wonder if any panels are discussing that Blogger/Blogspot is blocked again in China.

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Alcohol and Indeterminate Gender

My co-worker Debra picked up some fliers about the One-Way Ticket bar and brought them to school. I’m not sure why the One-Way is having a grand opening party, since we’ve been there before, but we’re not exactly a crowd to argue with free drinks.

I’m a bit annoyed that men get free Yantai beer while women get free soda… but apparently transgenders get a 15% discount on everything.

Of course, we’re still going! It’s the One-Way Ticket!

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Murlocs and Dating

Just letting you know that my article on MMORPGs and relationships is now on WomenGamers.com

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Maybe Kafka Visited Yantai

Just this morning I was saying to my mom that my blog is less about my struggles in China and more about my student adventures. But don’t worry! China doesn’t want me to have writers’ block!

The secretaries at my school are really not so bad. Sure, they practice a little creative recycling, and they’re a bit inclined to nod until I stop talking and they can go back to their QQ. But they’re not alone. All office employees in China make sure they never tell you anything in case it comes back to haunt them.

One of the secretaries stopped me when I was coming to into school and told me that maybe I should pay my electric bill today.

“Ok, how much is it?” I asked.

“Maybe I don’t know.”

“Where do I pay it?” In China, you take your bills and your cash to a local payment office, where they tell you the person you need to stamp your reciept isn’t here and maybe you should come back another day.

“Maybe I don’t know.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Maybe I don’t know.”

“I guess I’ll ask < office manager > when she comes back.”

“If you do not pay soon, your electricity will be shut off.”

“When will that happen?”

“Maybe I don’t know.”

Welcome to China, where an average day can quickly become my own personal text-based-adventure-game hell.

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