Walking around searching for white people

So it's Thursday night here. I've been here since Sunday afternoon and rather surprised to have made it this far. My dad came with me and helped me get set up in the apartment. We found the apartment nice and roomy but in a weird condition when I came in, the sort of thing you will not find anywhere in America. The previous owner left a ton of shit behind, weird shit including shampoo, chocolate milk, a broken watch, English books, Wireless router, Korean books and filthy bedsheets and blankets. The yellow paint is randomly discolored and the doorframes and tiles have an air of hasty assembly, somewhat off like a third grader's Popsicle stick house. My dad really helped get everything setup, get electricity, cleaning, got our landlord to setup the internet. I'm looking for a roommate as this place is meant for 2, but still haven't found anyone.

Ok anyways, to say that this city is a new experience is like saying Dennis Rodman is weird. Harrowing might be more the correct term. It amazes me how much I underestimated the difficulty in adjusting to life alone in a foreign city speaking a foreign language. I guess the idea for me really just coming to Beijing for the Olympics was inspired by my friend Brian, whom I taught tennis with last summer. Brian came from Dublin to stay in Boston for the summer, with nothing but a rundown house that he was sharing with 7 other Irish dudes. He didn't have a job, he didn't have any contacts. He somehow managed to find a job teaching tennis and had a great summer. So I figured if I found a place and a job in Beijing and took a year of Intensive Chinese, a wonderful experience would fall into place. Right. For some reason I thought Dublin:Boston was comparable to Boston:Beijing. Nope.

The language barrier is covered with barbs. The average Beijing local speaks like 15 words of English and cannot understand anything. This isn't Western Europe, where people speak their native language but also have a firm grasp of English and will be of help. Even with some stuttered utterings in Chinese I really cannot get by adequately. I mostly engage in silent trading, although I do have a much better grasp of the Chinese numbers (always was tough during class) by hearing different prices so many times.

I am in an awkward position in Beijing. Obviously I don't speak Chinese well enough to get by - however, I generally look like I do. Most natives here have been addressing me in Mandarin, which is different from my general experience in Hong Kong, where I have surprisingly been addressed in English (despite understanding Cantonese). Whether this is because I dress more like a Beijing person, or becaues the natives can't address me in another language, or because I really do look Chinese to them, I'm not quite sure but I'm leaning towards the 3rd option. However some people have commented that I do look mixed, which of course, I am, although much less so than they think. Anyways, when I walk the streets, I naturally gravitate towards anyone who looks like they speak English, basically White people. I mean I try to find Asian Americans like me too, but I haven't been able to tell them (us) apart. Sometimes I hear some Chinese people speaking English like they were ABCs but that's about it. I really can't tell by sight. This applies vice versa too, its not like Americans will be able to tell that I speak English. I want to grab each White person I pass and tell them, "I'm like you! How are you doing with this city?!" But that's just not socially acceptable, even here.

My welcome to Beijing moment happened Wednesday morning. I had gone a full day, of work no less, without my dad and things were going smoothly if lonely. I wake up to a loud pounding on my door. I have the feeling that whoever is at my door has been knocking for some time now so I feel the need to sprint over there. I jump out of bed and instantly slip and fall flat on my side. In my semi-conscious state I realize that the floor is dripping wet; looking around, I see that there is a clear inch of water throughout the apartment. An amalgamation of confusion, understanding and panic flooded my thoughts - confusion as to why there was my room had become a slip-and-slide overnight, understanding that the knocking on the door was probably related, and panic because my apartment was obviously flooded and I potentially lacked the language skills to deal with it. Anyways I finally got the door open, and two Chinese people burst into the room screaming in Chinese. They run straight to the kitchen sink and open the door, and a gush of water pours out. They mess with it and apparently stop the flow of water. As I listen and explain my Chinese is bu hao, they discuss what to do with it before asking me for a broom which I do actually understand. There's a drain in the bathroom and they sweep towards it, and call 2 more people in to sweep. I was still confused as to what happened, but eventually after they change the pipes, I see that the metal of the old pipe had drastically come apart. The people sweep for an hour and a half, there was so much water, keep in mind this apartment is quite roomy. Luckily my bedroom was slightly higher so the water barely entered it. Very little stuff got wet, and the end result was that my room actually got cleaned. The water brought all this dust out from the corner. Welcome to China.

I'll tell more about work later; its a lot better than I thought it would be but there's a lot to talk about and this post is getting lengthy. I'll leave with two more stories. I was with my boss Jessica shopping for English-teaching books at this bookstore. She points out this bar called Lush literally adjacent to the store and says that foreigners go there. Also in the store I see this white guy wearing a Hoosiers t-shirt buying a book on Hong Kong and Macau. I don't say anything right away but then he is having trouble at the cashier, so I ask if he needs help. He's very thankful and eventually Jessica and I get to help him, and I tell him a bit about Hong Kong and Macau. That night I head to that bar, which really is a piece of Brooklyn in Beijing. Its 100% English except for the bartenders, although a lot of Europeans evidently stock the place. I saw that guy wearing the Hoosiers shirt again and so we chilled for a bit. He's a grad student from Fordham studying here for the summer. Basically that bar is going to be my networking area for this summer, my miniature Lan Kwai Fong.

I have a lot more to talk about, including a ridiculous incident in the afore-mentioned Lan Kwai Fong while I was in Hong Kong, a difficult cab ride and my time working at EMC. All for later postings.