Trans-Mongolian: Our Friendship Honeymoon

So remember when Chris and I accidentally bought the wrong Trans-Siberian train tickets and ended up in the Ohio of China rather than the beautiful Gobi desert (see blog on the Trans-Siberian) ? We promised ourselves that one-day we’d go back to sleep in a Mongolian yurt, but who knew that time would come so soon! This time, my travel companion was a little more Chinese and a little less McMullen-Laird.

Our trip started like most other trips do nowadays: with some painful dentistry in Beijing and a train. The Mongolian approach to trains is very different from both the Russian and the Chinese trains. The bathroom was actually better than my bathroom at home (free soap, matches and toilet paper, our favorite!!!), but our проводница (train stewardess? compartment manager?) was so rude she could almost pass as a Russia. 没问题, But we kept ourselves busy doing Train on the Train™ (see video below), figuring out our futures (the main point of this trip) and not doing our Chinese homework. By the way, many things in this blog post will make more sense if you read the Trans-Siberian entries from September 2012.

We arrived in Ulaanbaatar and immediate realized that we severely under packed in the wool underwear and hats/gloves/scarves department. Ulaanbaatar is the coldest capitol in the world and even three pair of wool socks and seven layers of shirts/sweaters/jackets don’t stand a chance against the frigid air and cold-hearted Mongolian ladies at the train station. After six hours of trying to buy our tickets to Irkutsk, we still hadn’t experienced “Mongolian Hospitality”.

Our toes only got colder as we realized our Couchsurfing host Oolgii actually lived in a village far outside of UB, and apparently buying a bowl of soup at a café doesn’t give you permission to stay there for more than six hours. Cold, train lagged and disappointed that no one would open the door at the only Hostel to which we knew the address to, we were rescued by a British couchsurfer named Greg generously saved from a premature death by frostbite. He explained so many mysteries of Mongolia to us: that taxis are just a name your own price deal for any car that’s driving by, that you can be bullied by pickpockets in broad daylight who will just tug at your bag until you give it up, and that walking home from the bars with a local girl can get you beaten up by a mob of Mongolian men who are adamant about protecting their women.

The next day, determined to sleep in a yurt and armed with a map from the nice lady at the tourist office we headed into the grasslands. We got dropped at the fancies hotel I’ve ever seen in a village and pretended to be very interested in their overpriced rooms in order to snag a last deal of the day horseback ride. By the way, filming and not falling of a Mongolian horse is a seriously high-level balancing act—even for a dancer.  We also managed to talk the hotel manager into hooking us up with a yurt family (although this took some careful scheming in their fancy, gilded bathroom.) Despite what you might think, yurts are incredibly warm—until everyone goes to bed and the stove dies down. Then you better have your Mongolian ankle-length jacket ready to go.

The next morning we took the cheap and slow bus back to the UB and spent two hours looking at the beautiful faces of old Mongolian villagers as we listened to folk-pop fusion on the local radio station. Once we were back on the train, we turned our compartment into a mini health center to try and recover from our Mongolian colds and stomachaches from eating day old yogurt.

Russia

The train ride to Irkutsk, one of Siberia’s largest cities was beautiful and interesting. Siberia is largely neglected by the central government in Moscow, and as a result, the train tracks are lined with impoverished or deserted villages that look like they belong in 18^th century Russia. But Siberia also has incredible Northern beauty and large stretches of it are pure and unscathed by civilization. Siberian people are warm and friendly, to the point where it was hard for me to find a good example or the infamous Russian rudeness I told Helen so much about. We arrived at our village by Lake Baikal and cozied up in our warm cottage with Russian dumplings (пельмены), cookies and tea. Welcome to Russia.

I wish I could brag that I swam in Lake Baikal during the winter (it's supposed to be good luck), but after the Canadians told us that it was so cold it hurt their souls, I decided that I'm just too old for unnecessary suffering. Before you judge me, just remember that Russia is REALLY cold. Also, our hostel is a twenty minute uphill sprint from the lake. The combination of being out of shape from too much cheap Chinese food and being old just made that seem like a very unrelaxing activity. So instead we ate smoked omul fish, learned how to make plof (a traditional Russian rice dish with meat and carrots) and went on lovely hikes along the shore. We also treated ourselves and bought beautiful wool socks and mittens at the local market (you really know you're getting old when a pair of wool anything is your splurge). The trip ended with a lovely night in Irkutsk at a Russian literature grad student's appartment. If any of you reading have never couchsurfed, you should do it yesterday. Unless you are over 40. The you should probably just call it a day and get a hotel. But seriuosly, I have had nothing but incredible experiences couchsurfing, and our lovely Russian host in Irkutsk was no different. Oatmeal with dried fruit and ginger coffee for breakfast? How did she know???

 It turns out that our trip could not have come at a better time. While our friends in Harbin were being enveloped by a smog airpocalypse, we were breathing in lovely clean Siberian air on the shores of on of the deepest and most pristine lakes in the world. So did we care that we were freezing most of the time and came home having used the vast majority of our living stipind on train tickets? Not at all. Thank you Mother Russia, я тебя люблю!

North Korea: Temptation at the Border

Some of you expressed excitement at my travel plans to visit North Korea, but I would say most of you either sent me text messages begging me not to go, or found comfort in the fact that whatever bad life choices you’ve made pale in comparison to the idea of an American in North Korea. Fear not, I didn’t actually go, but I did take a boat from Dandong about as close as you can legally get to the North Korean shore. The temptation to jump out and swim was overwhelming, thwarted only by the pollution in the water. The only thing pollution has going for it is saving me from my unwise impulses to break international laws.

Dandong is one of China’s most eastern cities, located at the intersection of the Yalu River and the Yellow Sea. Unless you like buying fake Korean money and kitschy “ethnic” key chains, Dandong doesn’t have much to offer other than it’s location on the main land way between China and North Korea. The boat ride on the Yalu River was simultaneously disappointing and confusing. Disappointing because we could see North Korea but weren’t actually able to go, and confusing because what we saw looked more like a movie set than and actual country. Rusty out-of-use boats lines the shore, and I’m not exactly sure why there were people on these boats and what they were doing. It was clear by the rust and deterioration they these boats hadn’t been used in many years. Picture the set from Pirates of the Caribbean, except add a bunch of North Koreans randomly wandering around or hanging out on the docks and masts. Also, why were there parts of an amusement park in the middle of the industrial section? The roller coaster skeleton seemed to say, we used to have fun here back in the day. The other weird thing about North Korea is that there aren’t any tall buildings -- only scary, boxy looking government buildings that will probably become museums someday. I don’t even want to know what happens inside those buildings. It will give nightmares. North Korea also wasn’t entirely rural. What you end up with is a weird mix of visual indicators of modernization (cranes indicating construction and big ships indicating a harbor with economic activity), without the actual results of a modern port. But it wasn’t entirely deserted either. The boats were out of use and the construction sites looked like the dormant factories of Detroit and yet there were people bustling about here and there doing who knows what.

Hiking along the great wall and getting a bird’s eye view of North Korea was even more profound than the boat ride. Something about hiking along the wall and slowly getting closer to the North Korean countryside was both humbling and incredibly depressing. Of course we climbed over the barriers of the great wall    (wouldn’t you? ) and had a moment of silence for all the people trapped inside a country that was now only separated from us by a small creek.

Whether intentional or not, the Chinese government instructional cartoons about how to behave near the North Korean border were a great pick-me-up after the sobering experience of being in spitting distance of the North Korean border. They will definitely be the stars of my “Chinglish” album (I will post this as soon as I see enough ridiculous and funny translations posted on Chinese signs).

Was it worth the 12.5 hour train ride from Harbin to almost go to North Korea? Sort of. But at the same time it just made me want to actually stand on North Korean soil. Spending half an hour on a boat and looking sadly across a river at North Korean desolation just doesn’t do this terribly fascinating place justice.

感恩节

感恩节是一个团聚传统的节日。在我的家里，我们一般吃很多感恩节传统的菜，然后每个人说他要感谢什么。

在衣食住行方面，我感到很满意。在世界上，有很多贫困的人，住在荒凉的地方。 有的人吃不饱，一碗米饭意味着一日三餐。我很担心他们，因为他们可怜的情况。好在，我丰衣足食。

我也很感谢我的健康状况.从我的角度，健康弥足珍贵。去年，我差点儿退出大学，因为我的健康问题。现在我放心我的健康没有很大的问题。

我也很感谢我受到的教育。有的时候我忙不过来所以我的功课落后. 可是我的老师别提多热心，总是帮助我学习。我也很感谢我有这个机会来中国。富布赖特的竞争很激烈，别的不说，就说如果没有别人的帮助，我根本不可能获得参与富布赖特项目的机会。

我当然很感谢我的家人。小的时候，我的父母给我换尿布，围着我转.他们又是给我请很好的家教，又是为我的成长发愁。

最后，我感谢我的朋友们。我现在住在离我的家人很远的国家，所以我的朋友是我新的家人。我的朋友很好，如果可以的话，对他们，我真想夸个没够。当生活困难的时候，我的朋友很有人情味儿，和他们相处可以帮助我减轻生活的负担。患难见真情！ 今天我满怀感激，因为我的生活如此美好！

Airpocalypse in Harbin

Last week, Harbin’s API reached levels forty times above the safe level recommended by the World Health Organization. What does this mean for students studying at CET Harbin? Luckily, last week many of us were traveling for our fall break, but our teachers, friends and a few unlucky students were trapped in the city during Harbin’s “airpocalypse”.  One Harbin resident said he hasn’t seen pollution like this in his thirty years of living here.

The “Airpolcalypse” in Harbin made international media headlines, and many of my friends and family sent me alarmed and concerned messages. I was grateful to be out of the country for the worst part of the smog crisis, but even though the worst pollution has subsided, Harbin’s pollution problems are far from over. I was shocked that when I stepped off the plane in Harbin I was welcomed by a hazy sky that dimmed the sun and thick, cough-inducing smog. After receiving messages from my friends that the pollution disaster in Harbin was over, this is not what I expected. Pollution here is a relative term. If you can see the person you are talking to, then it’s a good day.

But beyond the undeniable scientific evidence that the smog in Harbin is still a serious health hazard to its 10 million residents, the deteriorating health of some CET students is further proof of the severity of the situation. One CET student who was planning on studying here for two semesters is considering moving to a different city in China in order to avoid the breathing problems and chest pain he is experiencing. We have also stopped exercising outdoors, and being late is now not only a threat to your attendance grade, but to the long-term health of your lungs! I ran to the subway yesterday, only to spend the rest of the evening coughing like a smoker.

The most frustrating aspect of the situation is the lack of discussion or action regarding the incredible environmental and health consequences of such unprecedented levels of pollution. Most Harbin residents that I’ve talked to simply don’t feel like there is anything that can be done to resolve the problem and even the Harbin Institute of Technology Green Union mentioned nothing about the smog issues during their weekly meeting.

I think what Harbin needs right now is a heavy dose of sixties, hippie-style environmental activism. Hopefully, the heavy international media coverage will put pressure on Chinese lawmaker to take some serious actions against China’s growing pollution problems. And if you know anyone studying at CET-Harbin, you should definitely put an air filter in their next care package!

Black Bike Ring of China

Three days into the CET language program, I was ready for a bike. After asking numerous teachers, the dorm RA, and an elderly bike repair 师傅, fellow classmate Lydia马丽恬 and I were ready to explore the second-hand bike market of Harbin. A thirty minute walk to He Xing Road 和兴路 brought us upon two used bikes- they were beautiful. But a mandatory CET meeting that same afternoon forced us to make a hard decision; clutch onto our wallets and walk back to campus. If China has taught me anything, it is to never put time constraints on making a purchase. This is coming from someone who has made some pricey purchases in the past because their flight was the next morning and they were in a rush to finish gift shopping…

But we were back to bike shopping! The first weekend had past at Harbin Institute of Technology (哈尔滨工业大学) and we had made it to Guxiang (the red circled area on the map above). Bikes, bikes, glorious bikes!That day I dropped a hefty $15 dollars, an adventurous investment.

Biking back to campus, I realized the bike markets of China really need a double take. At first glance the set-up seems to be nothing more than an old man/woman selling eight crummy bikes on the side of the street, but there’s a humorous and bittersweet market cycle behind it. Often called the “Black Bike Ring,” some second-hand bike markets have sellers standing on bridges or overpasses daily, whispering “买车” (“selling bikes”) to passer-byers. The accepted fact among locals is that most, if not all second hand bike stock are obtained though questionable means- they’re stolen. One of the CET teachers relayed a story of a local who bought a second hand bike only to be stopped by a furious stranger who recognized the bike as their own. As a precaution to what I still feel is a very UNLIKELY situation, I chose a bike commonly seen being ridden throughout the streets of Harbin.

It’s a karma-like circle. These bikes are the cheapest to buy, selling around 100 to 200 RMB (17 to 25 U.S. dollars) but there worn exterior makes them great second-hand bike stock- who would recognize them? There is no doubt in my mind that the bike I own now had a wonderful owner in its earlier days, and I empathize with the heart-clenching feeling they felt finding only a broken chain where they had last left their bike. I will feel the same way when it comes time for my bike to return the second-hand street market; I just hope it happens during winter.

-Ma

Welcome to Ha-er-bin

I just realized that I’ve already lived in Harbin for over two months and I never actually explained on my blog where I live or what I’m doing. So here’s a little intro!

Welcome to Harbin, my cold, mid-size Chinese village home. And by mid-size Chinese village I meet 10 million people. Harbin is known for two things: a really cool Ice Festival and a Siberian Tiger park. So if you want to be scared and cold at the same time, I got you covered.

Harbin is also known for its large Russian influence, which I will explain in GREAT Fulbright-esq detail once I post my first ever research video at the end of the semester! Woohoo! Another reason Harbin wins is because it has very standard sounding Chinese. This is a BIG deal. China has many different types of Chinese, and foreigners basically can’t understand any of them. That’s why CET, our language program, decided to establish one of its intensive language programs here. Intensive is an understatement. Not only are our classes really small (one-on-one, one-on-two, etc.), but we aren’t allowed to speak any English. EVER. Or you are sent home. 马上.The funny thing is, since we have to talk to each other in Chinese and our Chinese is really bad, we can speak to each other and Chinese people won’t understand what we are saying. Ha. Secret Chinese-with-an-American-accent language. Win.

Other than our full time jobs of trying to not die while memorized close to one hundred characters a week, we spend a lot of time eating. You can easily eat here for a dollar a meal, and it’s great for practicing saying things like “that one please”, and “is that dog or actual meat”? That’s how we justify eating way more than would be considered healthy even by American standards.

Although China is generally cheap and awesome, let me dispel one myth right now. Chinese clothing is NOT cheap. It’s expensive and also the fashion is really…interesting. Lots of unnecessary bows. So if you are coming to China, buy all the clothes you need before you come but leave you ramen at home. China wins at Ramen. Sorry Cup Noodle.

Although the recent international news coverage of Harbin’s air pollution problems may discourage many of you from coming to visit me, the Chinese government promised us it will only last about a month. And since the government said it, it’s definitely true. So by the time the Ice Festival rolls around you can all come visit me and we can go feed a couple goats to some tigers and play on life size ice statues of the Great Wall.  行?

My thoughts on...making a fool of myself to learn Chinese

How far will I go to improve my Chinese? 

How about hopping around in a potato sack in from of a hundred of my Chinese classmates :) 

At the Harbin Institute of Technology (HIT) the process of joining a student organization is not for the faint of heart. Based on my experience in the US, joining a student organization involves adding your name to an email list and attending a mass meeting during the first week of classes. Not at HIT. If you can figure out which club does which activity at the massive exhibition of passionate club leaders explaining their goals and missions in rapid fire Chinese, you schedule yourself for a series of interviews where the clubs will decide which students have the appropriate qualifications to help their club succeed. Like everything in China, there are always many more applicants then spots. It felt like I definitely should have brought my resume.

I decided to go with Latin dance and the HIT Green Union. Dancer and Hippies, how intense could it be? Wrong. Let’s start with the Dance team. At my home University, The University of Michigan, our dance team starts every semester with a massive BBQ and a series of free lessons where we try to make dancing seem as fun as humanly possible. We try not to scare anyone away by overwhelming then with the technical material that is essential to succeeding as a competitive dancer. The HIT Latin Dance Association took a very different approach. Our first meeting was a three-hour lesson during which we analyzed and drilled fundamental rumba technique. No music, no dancing with partners, just intense focus on foot position hip rotation and spine alignment. The teacher lectured us on the importance of dedicated practice and attention to detail. Then he lined us up and we critiqued each other’s technique. The attitude towards criticism in China is completely different from the US. For example, telling the person across from you in class that his rumba walks look completely weird and wrong is considered helpful rather than rude. This was definitely not the Latin dance party I was expecting, but also explains why Chinese dancers have ridiculously amazing technique.

The Green Union, an even more formal organization than the Latin Dance Team, not only has seven different sections, but a grueling and competitive set of interviews for those interesting in joining. This is very different from my experience at the University of Michigan Student Sustainability Initiative, where we were constantly revamping our recruitments strategies and bribing new students with free food and promises of instant best friends. I chose to interview for the elementary school teaching section of the Green Union, since this would allow me to integrate with the local Harbin community. The first interview consisted of a panel of six board members drilling me about my experience with student environmental organizations and my ideas for successful teaching methods and classroom activities. This sounds completely manageable until you remember that a month ago I could barely introduce myself in. My Chinese is very basic, so the interview was a delicate game of trying to guess what they were asking and pairing it with any relevant vocabulary I could remember from class. There were definitely several questions that went completely over my head, but unlike Americans who like to avoid letting the awkward foreigner stumble over the same question for five minutes, these students just kept going with the same question until I answered something that somewhat satisfied their requirements.

Next, they gave me ten minutes to prepare a ten-minute mock lesson including a presentation, discussion questions and a game. No pressure, just a bunch of Chinese kids waiting for you to mess up. I then had to teach this lesson to the whole executive board which consisted of about twenty pair of eyes insensibly following my every move. As if this wasn’t giving me grey hairs already, they thoroughly evaluated and discussed my strengths and weaknesses directly following the lesson. They also asked me to do a self-evaluation, so here it it. Pros: I’m still alive. Cons: This would be a lot easier if I actually understood what was going on. Again, like the Latin Dance Team, what struck me most about the Green Union was their direct approach to criticism and unwavering dedication to quality and thoroughness.

So why join a club in the first place, when our foreign student program already offers us a full schedule of way too much homework, wonderful cultural activities and extra curricular classes? I would say the biggest reason to join is to take everything our teachers have taught us and put it to the test. Our Chinese roommates and teachers are wonderful, but they are also experts in understanding butchered Chinese, saying things in multiple different ways until you understand it and being patient. People will speak quickly, with incomprehensible Southern accents (if you were a foreigner in the US, would you understand a Texan??), and ask you rapid fire questions that will make you want to run as far away as possible and/or cry. Also, there’s nothing like teaching kids for improving your language skills. I can’t wait to see what they think of my American accent.

Focused Green Union peeps trying to win an important race 

What is my advice to foreign students around the world who might want to try joining a student organization at their local university? If you’re like me, and have very little experience in the local language then there will be many many many difficult moments where you have absolutely no idea what is going on. But this is a wonderful thing for your language level. Simply being immersed in the language and the culture is going to increase your cultural and language comprehension much faster than even the most efficient afternoon of studying in your room. If you do decide to supplement your study abroad experience with student organizations, do it with an unwavering sense of humor. This is the most important tool you can use. See the video above of me jumping around in a potato sack at the Green Union Sports Competition as an example. Do I look ridiculous? Yes. Am I the only person in the whole club who isn’t magically amazing at jump roping tricks? Also yes.  At the end of the day, no matter how seriously everyone takes it, it’s just a club.