I don’t know why jetlag is still cramping my style but I woke up at 5:30am today and couldn’t go back to sleep. After twisting and turning for half an hour, I gave up and decided to finally start the day. Today is the day! I started off the day with another dose of jianbing (yes, the stuff is slowly immersing my whole being). Every time I purchase myself some street vendor food, I hope that none of China’s ditch oil (地沟油) craze (and apparently increasingly large industry: http://globalvoicesonline.org/2010/11/28/china-ditch-oil-floods-restaurants/) will keep its grimy hands off of the foods I pick to eat (shout out to Howard for giving me a heads up on this notorious phenomena). Yes, this is actually pretty innovative since, well, who woulda thunk, but after looking at the pictures from this website (http://chinadigitaltimes.net/space/Ditch_oil be sure to click on the “English” link to scan through some pretty gruesome pictures of what goes on behind the scenes), I can’t help but think to myself: why do I even eat when I’m here?
Since we never did a test-run of the distance from our apartment to the IUP building on the Tsinghua campus, JK and I crossed the busy streets (read: almost died twice) and briskly walked towards the South Gate. Upon stepping through the grand stone South Gate, we were transported into a different world away from the concrete jungle of the Wudaokou area that we have been accustomed to traversing. Great trees lined the pedestrian walkways while the greenery encircling me made me do double takes. But wait, when I say pedestrian walkways I actually mean those sidewalk paths that bikers have quickly and hungrily claimed. When people say “everyone bikes in Beijing”, they mean just that: hordes and hordes of bikers traverse the city streets and not a minute, nay, second goes by without the spotting of the un-helmeted bicycling Chinaman. Similarly to how the Chinese roadside spitters probably believe they own the road they spit on, the typical Chinaman knows that when he is on his bike, he is invincible. No matter the helmets (why would I fall?). No matter the cars (I’ll swiftly pedal around them). No matter the people (expendable since there’s at least a billion more).
Here is my take on the order of importance when traveling through the streets of Beijing (think of this as a food chain): cars, bicycles, electric bicycles, trash, questionable dead animal, mops, and then… people. At U.Va, when you begin to even think about crossing the street, you are already met by a long line of cars that have stopped in preparation for your arrival at the street (not even the crosswalk mind you, just any random section of the street). Oh and don’t forget the other side of incoming traffic that has also stopped for about 5 minutes now because they saw you teetering close to the road. However, here in Beijing, pedestrians fend for themselves on the streets. I’ve never been to the south side of anything, but this is probably pretty close to what it’s like – scrounging up the courage to make a run for it. My second-best comparison is probably to those clever little Hobbits in Lord of the Rings who always manage to escape from the line of fire (except Frodo, of course, who always needs Sam to hold his hand and pick up his slack).
But I digress. Although the buildings hover on the older side of the scale (renovation does not seem to be high on the list since the smog will instantaneously eat at it anyway), the Tsinghua campus is beautiful in its tree-lined glory. The IUP building is pretty centrally located and was not too difficult to find. At seven floors, it seems to be the tallest building in this particular section of campus. The rundown exterior and the dusty signage leaves one cringing at the possibility of taking classes within the building. Since the building does not contain an elevator, walking the seven flights of stairs up to the IUP section of the building can break hearts force out tears. But then again, I’m thankful for the exercise merely being in Beijing is providing to me *Eye of the Tiger plays in background while Nalin dreams of calves of steel*.
The 40 or so students gathered within the big conference room for an orientation session (this is where all the Chinese begins – everything from here on out was in Chinese) where we were introduced to all the important administrative staff, curriculum, textbooks, program schedule, and the dangers of Beijing. Yes, we were actually spoon-fed horror stories of foreigners in the IUP program from the student who was in a coma for 2 or 3 months because s/he didn’t look all ways before crossing the street and got hit by a bicycle to the student who fell to his/her death after some drunken missteps on the second floor of some bar. Immediately proceeding after the orientation was the two-hour written and listening exam which consisted of questions which ranged from the easiest matters to the most incomprehensible. The IUP pizza lunch brought upon us even greater levels of confusion as the program happily served us Chinese versions of the Italian pizza from a rip-off store named Mr. Pizza. Although some of the pizza toppings can be found on any “normal” pizza as seen in the U.S. or Italy, the creativity found within each pie is definitely only afforded within the Middle Kingdom, especially that one pizza with a large slice of potato as the main topping. Despite its eccentricity, the teachers and students all collectively helped devour most of the lunch before heading off to continue the day.
We all just spent the rest of the day chit-chatting and getting to know one another. The people who I have met in the program are actually all from very interesting backgrounds and have such wide-ranging interests – it’s going to be great getting to know them all bit by bit! The other highlight of the day was definitely the campus tour that culminated in an IUP welcome dinner complete with round tables, refillable tea, and dishes upon dishes of food. Since it really was not that great of a meal, the food was easily eclipsed by all the get-to-know-you conversations and my enlightenment of Pleco, a portable Chinese-learning app that alone has me yearning to switch over to a Mac.
The walk back to the apartment at around 8pm after the long and exhausting Chinese-filled day was the first time the Beijing smog and I actually shook hands (and then it proceeded to kick my lungs into a million pieces). Despite its dangerous nature, the smog actually added a stunning misty and foggy glow to the Tsinghua campus as we strolled through the tunneling trees. I’m almost ashamed to say that I actually enjoyed that beauty and sense of calm that the smog brought upon the end of the day. But then again, the unknowingly beautiful smog is one of the many Kontradictions (shout out to Chinese writer 茅盾 for his clever wordplay/characterplay) that makes Beijing a very unique city.
Nalin in Beijing 