Montclair Filament

I started reading Elisabeth Egan’s A Window Opens shortly before I left for Yangzhou, but for some reason, moving to China and immediately losing my suitcase put me slightly behind on my reading and blogging.  I mean, I could have just summed up my review like this:

Do you like books? Do you have a job? Do you have a family? Do you ever think about reading, your career, or your family? Good, then this book is for you.

As I read, I found myself highlighting something every couple of pages, and I really wished I was reading a proper book and not an eARC so I could share some of the best lines. It’s rare to find a novel that’s both a readable what’ll-happen-next story and a larger mediation on life, relationships and books.

So first I highlighted all these parts about thinking your job is wonderful, and then discovering fairly abruptly that there’s no future in it, and trying to decide what’ll come next. And then I highlighted the bit about being EWK – CLE (or RDU – EWK) when your life used to be JFK – LAX. And about hipster management jargon. And some of the snark about the New Jersey-Manhattan commute. And then I highlighted some parts about reading and about what Tumblr fiction fandoms call the book feels. And a bit about giving up one’s blue hair to get a new job.

The descriptive blurb says rather bland chicklit things about a wifeandmother who returns to the workforce after her husband loses his job, which is accurate (and obviously appealing enough to get me to read the book) but also not what it’s about. . After Alice’s husband Nick realizes that he has no future with his law firm, and abruptly quits, Alice leaves her part-time position as a book reviewer and starts what seems like a perfect job for a reader and books editor at Scrolls, a boutique reading experience. But it’s not a novel about ziplocs of goldfish crackers accidentally spilled at high-profile presentations, and the climax isn’t a realization that her children are The Only Thing That Really Matter. Alice also has a struggling husband, aging parents, children with separate personalities, actual friendships, including a best friend who runs the local independent bookstore,  a boss who blows hot and cold in a disturbingly realistic way, and that NJTransit commute. There was an unpleasant moment where the narrative veered dangerously close to Books Good, Games Dumb territory, but by that point I was hooked so I kept reading, and told myself that the problem was Scrolls veering away from the original plan and Alice’ job description drastically changing, and not that interactive entertainment is inherently bad.

As I was reading, I realized slowly that the New Jersey suburb of Filament is actually my hometown, Montclair. First I thought the bit about the NJTransit conductor’s being a dick about the extra charge for onboard tickets seemed pretty true to life, but NJTransit runs lots of places. (Did I ever mention my theory that most DeCamp employees are double agents working to make NJT look better by comparison?) Then I thought it was hilarious when Nick and his bro friends got ridiculously drunk at the Shannon Rose, because my cousins used to live within shouting distance of the Shannon Rose, and apparently a lot of ridiculously drunk bros shout a lot. And it was funny that that Filament has a Williams-Sonoma and a Bloomfield Avenue too, and by the end of the book, I was mapping each description to a Montclair place. North Edison is probably Edgemont, so if it’s a 10 minute walk to the train, that must be the Watchung Plaza stop… 

Anyway, if you like books, or having a job, or relationships with other people, you should go read this.

A Window Opens by Elisabeth Egan will be out on August 25, 2015. I received a copy of this book from the publisher to review. (But you already know that from reading the post, right?) All opinions on my blog are my own, as always.

IFTTT Recipe: Tweet Book Reviews connects feed to twitter

If you enjoy my book reviews, I’d really appreciate any social sharing. I made an IFTTT recipe to tweet all my book reviews. It’ll only share the title and link to my book reviews, nothing else on my blog, so you won’t find yourself posting about how much you love Harold or how bad you are at Chinese or anything. You can see the feed of posts you’ll be tweeting here.

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Legit Concerns, Best Laid Plans, Whatever

When Harold and I started dating, we were working together at Next Island. I really loved working with him, whether it was there, or last summer when we worked on Star Trek: Rivals together, or when we met at Merscom five years ago.

When I introduced Harold to my parents… well, this was more when I introduced him as my boyfriend than the first time they’d met. My parents had already met him, as my friend and then as my in-denial-about-dating friend. (I found one of my old journals when I was packing for Yangzhou, and there were literally pages and pages about how just because I spend all my time with Harold, that doesn’t mean he’s my boyfriend or anything. Delusional explanations I wrote to myself. I am great at emotional maturity.) My parents already liked Harold but my mom wasn’t really happy about me dating someone at work.

She raised some pretty reasonable objections: Dating at work doesn’t usually end well, and if we broke up, I’d have to see my jerkface ex-boyfriend every day.  If the relationship did work out well, in such a volatile industry, it would be foolish to have all our income tied to one company. Pretty legit concerns.

Anyway, now Harold and I are married and in two different countries and still working on cool game projects together. 

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Marco Polo

Detail of a photocopy of a map drawn by a previous expat teacher. I paid extra for an iPhake with a workable map app, but I really like the idea of a hand-drawn map of the city’s highlights, and maybe adding my own notes for the next teacher.

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A Song of Bing and Huo

I’ve been reading A Song of Ice and Fire, mostly thanks to SuperDan’s recommendation, which means I’ve been lying in front of my room fan in my underwear, trying to remember what being cool felt like, and reading about how winter is coming. Can’t come soon enough for me, Starks.

I’ve just finished A Feast for Crows, which ends with a little note from George R. R. Martin, saying that he’s totally going to tell us what’s going on with Jon Snow and Daenerys and the rest of the characters we barely saw in Crows, and that book will be called A Dance With Dragons, and it’s coming soon. I requested Dragons from Chapel Hill Public Library as soon as I finished Crows, but I was waitlisted because the second-to-last person in the entire world to read A Song of Ice and Fire is still finishing it.

It was only about two days of waiting before I got an email saying my ebook was ready, but I was waiting anxiously to see what happens next. Good thing I didn’t read them all as they came out, or it would have been six years of waiting anxiously  between Crows and Dragons.

Related:
Hey, Meg, you gotta listen to this.
Hey Meg, does this make you sad?

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Key Words

I’m really lucky that when I’m at a bit of a career crossroads, and I decide to spend a few months back in China, I can easily do it. I try to keep this constantly in mind, as if by being more aware of it, I can be more deserving of the opportunity. Really, I’m able to find a job here mostly because I happen to be a native English speaker at a time when foreign English teachers are in great demand.  I do put effort into my work — I plan interesting lessons, I work to be a better teacher, after being granted a work visa as a completely unskilled new grad, I now have years of teaching experience — but I can’t forget just how much of this opportunity is mine by luck. My native language is in demand, I didn’t do anything special.

This morning, the staff needed my keycard for a minute, and then we had a bit of a misunderstanding, basically I thought someone was bringing me the key when they thought I was picking it up. And then when I realized what happened, I thought I’d go pick it up, but of course now someone was dispatched to give it to me, so it wasn’t there, and I’m boring myself explaining this. It was the kind of misunderstanding that occurs regularly when you have a toneless, tiny Chinese vocabulary, and you’re still determined to do everything yourself. And by you here I obviously mean me.

Then the housekeeper came to my room to give me my keycard, and I thanked her. I tried to use a complete sentence, and as I was struggling with it (You guys. My Chinese is really, really bad.), she said “your key” in English.

So, the person who takes out my trash is better at English than I am at Chinese.

 

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Lady Laowei

Before I came to Yawalkngzhou, I wanted to live in the housing arranged by the school, but I specifically asked not to have to share a room. When I was told that a single would be no problem, I was so very proud of my negotiation skills and of my work experience. Clearly I provide so much value that my employers wants to make me comfortable and happy! I’m so great!

Now that I’m here, I’ve ended up with a double room to myself, plus a Western bathroom with a bathtub, too. (The water doesn’t actually get warm, and the faucet has been disabled so it’s only a shower, but Yangzhou in summer is place for cool showers, not steaming tubs). Our rooms are in a sort of long-term hotel, which mean my room is cleaned when I’m out, toiletries are replaced, my trash is taken out, and I never have to go to the bank office to pay my utilities.

My room is awesome, is what I’m saying, but no thanks to my negotiation skills. Turns out that both the other women are here with their partners, so there isn’t anyone for me to room with, anyway.

In related news, I made it three days in China before I got a surprise transfer at work. My school has three campuses around the city, all within walking distance of my room. I started training at one of them, but on my second day, I was asked if I’d mind teaching at another one. The asking was quite nice because I could just as easily have been informed that starting right now, I work somewhere else.

It was a little disappointing to switch, because it took me those two days to find the first campus easily (Pro tip for schools employing foreign teachers: Show your staff where classes will be held, or draw a map, or at least give verbal directions. A text saying the school name in pinyin and the time of expected arrival is really not sufficient.), so it was disappointing to be reassigned just as soon as I was confident I could get there easily.

My new school is literally across the street from my room, though, perfect for a lazy commute, or for avoiding the school’s squatters. And since there are only three female foreign teachers and three campuses, I’m not entirely surprised I was moved to the only campus without a lady laowei.

 

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Book Review: The Search for Kindronium 379

I was interested in The Search for Kindronium 379 because it was described as a teenage adventure story, along the lines of Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. Here’s the Amazon blurb:

An accidental fall down an ancient mine shaft leads to the discovery of a refugee scientist’s research diary that describes a new super element, Kindronium 379. Unfortunately, news of the discovery leaks to agents of the International Communist Workers party. The fight for possession of the document culminates in a gun battle within the confines of the old mine.

The premise of schoolkids stumbling on a scientific secret, hidden in the old mine, was so good! I was pretty excited to read this. But the actual novel was a blend of village novel and adventure story, both things I like, but an odd mix.

Throughout the book, the pacing was slightly off, swinging between suspenseful and meandering. We got multiple excuses when Gareth was going to skip practice or class (Don’t worry, Gareth! It’s OK to skip football practice once if you’re solving an international mystery!), and secondary (or tertiary?) characters would appear with a long description of their background, and then wander off, never to be seen again. While poor Gareth was down a mineshaft, we got a meditation on Viktor’s feelings about tea. None of it was uninteresting — actually, I wanted to see more of these minor characters or hear more about life at their school — but the pacing varied from Welsh village story to action-adventure.

Women exist in this world, but mostly as passing mentions as annoyances. Girls are interested in handsome Viktor so Gareth decides to go caving to get away from them, no girls are taking the hard sciences so beloved teacher Togi doesn’t have to be “gentle” in his teaching, etc., etc. Moms and farmwives offer tea to the protagonists sometimes. The Search For Kindronium 379 is hardly the first time I’ve read an adventure story without any female characters, and it probably won’t be the last, unfortunately.

The adventure itself was engaging, with the boys getting lost while spelunking, finding a mysterious old journal, one of them falls down a mineshaft, and of course the evil communists come to steal secrets. It made me think of (all-male) Trixie Belden adventures. Anyway, cave adventures, from Colossal Cave to that part in Tom Sawyer, are always really interesting. And scary. I also enjoyed the attention to historical detail in the novel.

I received a copy of this book from the publisher to review. All opinions are my own, as always.

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The Austen Test

A couple days before my wedding (wow, I got married, that is still sinking in), my mom, my dad, Harold and I were talking about Call The Midwife. Actually, my mom and I were talking about what a great show it is, while Harold and my dad admitted that there was a little too much blood and screaming for them. This is extra hilarious because Harold is a horror writer, and I’m usually pretty upset by seeing blood on TV. A few weeks ago, we tried to watch Pet Cemetary but I got too scared that Tasha Yar was going to get killed so he shut it off.

The reason I like Call The Midwife is that all the blood and screaming leads to high drama and cutie little babies.  Also, it’s an entire show about women. I mentioned the Bechdel Test to my dad who was sort of confused by the point of it, and I tried to explain that it’s a way to note and view female characters in media, to go from I kinda feel like there aren’t a lot of women in mainstream entertainment to quantifying exactly how few named, speaking women exist in typical movies. But if there were some kind of reverse Bechdel Test, that is, if you watched Call the Midwife and watched expectantly for two named men having a conversation that isn’t about a woman, well, it would be a long wait.

This is a show about female friendships, with arcs about friendship and motherhood. Even the romantic storylines, like Chummy and Noakes, the conflicts are Chummy’s internal ones, about her overbearing mother and her midwifery career, not silly misunderstandings and dramatic reconciliations. Obviously Chummy is the best character of all, although for some reason, Harold doesn’t enjoy the part about Constable Noakes running up and down the stairs in Poplar to pass his physical to go abroad with his wife. I don’t know why, I mean, in one of the rare storylines where a man’s character development is central and there’s no blood or screaming at all.

I recently got Jennifer Worth’s memoir out of the library for a little more cuteness and drama. (I haven’t found a smooth way to watch American movies or TV here in Yangzhou, but it takes about five minutes on the VPN to get my library books loaded on my Kindle, so I haven’t been terribly motivated to try. I’d like to watch a little Call The Midwife or Doctor Who, but having all the free books North Carolina will give me is pretty sweet, too.) If you found the TV show squicky, you should skip the memoir too, because she describes some of the births she attended in detail. But I didn’t find that gross, and I really liked the accounts of Poplar life.

In the opening to her memoir, Worth explains the world she’s experiencing and writing about:

So, like Jane Austen, who in all her writing never recorded a conversation between two men alone, because as a woman she could not know what exclusively male conversation would be like, I cannot record much about the men of Poplar, beyond superficial observation.
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Facts of life at a Yangzhou hospital. #chinglish #中国 #扬州 #expat #travel #China #Yangzhou #health


Facts of life at a Yangzhou hospital. #chinglish #blog #中国 #扬州 #expat #travel #China #Yangzhou #health | July 20, 2015 at 11:19PM

Facts of life at a Yangzhou hospital. #chinglish #blog #中国 #扬州 #expat #travel #China #Yangzhou #health Instagramvia Instagram.

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As One Does

My suitcase, after its adventures.My flight was pretty great, I had a couple of good books (You guys, how did I ever do long flights before ereaders?) and a seatmate who was the right amount of chatty for a 16-hour flight. We landed in Guangzhou, where I needed to go through immigration and customs before switching to a domestic flight to Yangzhou.

I waited at baggage claim for a while, but my bag didn’t turn up, and after the waiting crowd dispersed and the belt was empty, I had to admit it wasn’t coming. I wasn’t entirely surprised that my checked bag was missing, since I’d been rerouted a couple times, but I was still hopeful that mine was just going to be the last one off the plane.

So I waited in a couple lines and filled out some forms for my missing bag. It was pretty troublesome because I just landed so I didn’t have a phone number. I needed to get through customs so I could buy a SIM card and get a Chinese phone number, but I couldn’t go through customs without my bag. And by the time I’d finished sorting that part out, I’d missed my connecting flight to Yangzhou.

The airline rebooked me on the next flight, which would be leaving the next morning, and comped my hotel, which was lovely but didn’t really make me feel better because I was still going to have figure out my way to the hotel, navigate check in, using a hotel voucher, get myself fed in a strange city, make my way back to the airport on time and check back in for my new flight. Also I would need to sort out a SIM card or wifi, hopefully both, so that I could let my school and my family know that I was just missing, not actually dead. Trial by fire for my Chinese skills. (I’m actually not terribly worried about my bag, since airlines have lost my luggage before and it always turns back up in a day or two.)

Before I came, I thought a lot about how it would feel to be back in China, and what differences I’d notice and all the expat adventures I’d have, but when I left the airport, I was just glad the airport shuttle wasn’t too crowded and that the driver had agreed to tell me where to get out. It turns out that Guangzhou is a lot more tropical than I was expecting, with gorgeous bright flowers and palm trees. Unfortunately, I was dressed for an overly air-conditioned plane ride, so at the hotel I stripped down to just one sweaty layer and sink-washed the rest and left them drying in my room. Then I set off down the street, looking for food and/or wifi, when I noticed a familiar logo.

And that’s how I spent the first night of my Chinese adventure eating in a Pizza Hut in the wrong city.

Posted in China, Guangzhou | 4 Comments