India

Important: my India address has been changed to 

Manda Parikh 
Indian Society for Community Education 
Community Education House off Ashram Road
Navjivan Press Road
Ahmedabad, Gujarat
India

Shrooms

12/2/11

            This isn’t my story, but I feel you all will appreciate it anyway. Last night Andrew’s host family served mushrooms. Now these were the most delicious mushrooms he had ever tasted.  Andrew was gobbling them down, when his mother told him not to eat too many, or he would “see little people.” Today in class Andrew asked Charles (our Chinese teacher) if his family had had him shrooming. The way Charles explained it was, “Yunnan has 250 types of mushrooms. 80 of them are just a little bit poisonous.” We all got quite a kick out of that one.

            The mushroom conversation led to a conversation on drugs in China in general. Did you know that drug dealing is punishable by death here? Marijuana, however, is not considered a drug. Many just call it “the local cigarette.” Apparently it grows naturally here. It’s a weed, just as its nickname would indicate. Charles said there’s even some growing at the zoo!

            He was surprised that we hadn’t gone any place that served us marijuana tea yet. In Peru we were drinking coca (of the cocaine family) tea, and here we’ve got marijuana tea. What’s next? Heroin tea in India? Crystal Meth tea in South Africa?

            We learned so many random facts in Chinese class today! We were all horrified to learn that the police kill several street vendors every year. Right here in Kunming! They call it “keeping the streets clean.” We all took it very hard, because we all share a deep love for the street vendors. That and the atrocity being committed against humanity.  

            Last random fact, I promise! Charles says that men here are encouraged to smoke instead of eating snacks. Apparently eating snacks is a sign that a man is gay. I love Charles, but I’m not sure I believe him on this one.

            I thought that my homestay parents were pronouncing things differently from one another, but today Charles confirmed my suspicions. One of my parents is indeed causing me to develop a regional accent. As if Chinese weren’t hard enough! Now I have to figure out what’s Mandarin, and what’s part of the local dialect. I think it’s my mother’s fault. I know, always blame the mother. I’m not sure how to ask, but I think she’s one of the regional minorities. So the accent would make sense. My reasoning is that both she and her sister have curly hair, darker skin, and fuller lips. And well, it’s Yunnan.

            Tonight I attended my second Chinese wedding. That makes 33% of all the weddings I’ve attended in my life Chinese! It was the same deal as the first wedding. Same giant wedding complex, same quick ceremony, same hundreds of casually dressed guests. The only difference was that there was more entertainment and the food was not as good. During the meal, three girls (just like at the restaurant after the Bird and Flower Market) performed half-hearted dances. Afterwards, a man who I swear was the Chinese version of Agustin Magaldi took the stage, and began belting what I can only assume was a Chinese version of “On this Night of a Thousand Stars.”

Love,

Katherine

Ca-fe-ter-i-a

11/29/11

            I haven’t spent enough time in my kitchen. I only today noticed all of the sausages hanging from the ceiling.

            Today was our first day teaching a class that we were actually prepared for. By this I mean that they gave us our topic more than five minutes beforehand, so we were able to come up with a lesson plan and a presentation. The second class gave me my first glimmer of hope that we might actually get something accomplished. The students paid attention, they asked questions, they learned the word “cafeteria.” They even seemed interested. Connor, Allison, and I were relatively competent!

            The first class was a mess. Instead of sixty students for three teachers, they lobbed groups A and B together so that we had six teachers for about one hundred and fifty students. We were in a giant lecture hall, and quickly had to throw our lesson plans out the window when we learned that it had zero projection capabilities. There were none of the student’s regular teachers in the room, leaving them with no incentive to behave. They weren’t horrible…not compared with how American students would have behaved…not compared with how I would have behaved. They were just slightly hyper and distracted. It wasn’t their fault; it was impossible to hear. Even when we broke into smaller groups, there were still one hundred and forty-nine other students talking in the room. When I’ve seen real teachers teaching in that ballroom, they always have microphones. Where were our mikes? It’ll be fine. We’re adjusting. We’ll figure it out. I hope…

            At least the students really do seem to like us. After class they were all asking for our e-mail addresses and autographs. I think I’m going to take a picture of us teachers with each of our classes and distribute a copy to each student before we leave. I call it putting “take a picture it lasts longer,” to literal use.

Love,

Katherine

P.S. Here is the sweetest e-mail that I just received from one of my students:

Dear friend:

     I am the little girl who is activity in you class! Do you still remember me ? I think I

 can be your best pen pal ,do you think so? I think that you like me so much!! Ha...

    And now ,let me tell you something about my day !

    In the morning ,I often get up at 6:45, then I have my breakfast at 7:00 ,sometimes

I eat milk and biscults ,sometimes I eat egg and  bread ! And I go to shool early and

I stay in the shool with my classmates and teachers until 18:00! Then I  go home and

do my homework next!   I often go to bed at 23:00.

  This is my day ! How about you? I am excepting your letter...Please writing to me

soon~

Your new  Chinese friend:Cynthia

Gods Cast Blessings Over Dream Lijiang People Spend Soft Time in Leisured Lijiang

11/27/11

            For my Chinese Independent Student Travel, Michelle and I chose the beautiful city of Lijiang. I got my first experience of an overnight sleeper train! It’s crazy how tall those things are. On the way there, Michelle and I both had bottom bunks. The bunks above us were empty, so we had the whole compartment to ourselves. Of course, there wasn’t a door, so I still had to sleep with my purse as a pillow. We fell asleep watching Mean Girls on the laptop, and before I knew it the ten hours were up and we had arrived. The bedclothes were clean; therefore I had quite a pleasant time. On the way back we weren’t so lucky. We both had top bunks, and the couple beneath us had a thousand suitcases and a six-month-old baby.  Both times we were the only foreigners we could see on these massive trains.

            We spent all of our time exploring the old city of Lijiang. The city is set up like a Labyrinth, and we could wander for hours. The streets were cobblestones, and the buildings were all original (on the outsides) and stunning with red lanterns. Different sections of the maze contained different types of stores. There were fancy jade shops, touristy trinket shops, and authentic Naxi (the native Chinese minority inhabitants of Lijiang) product shops. In other areas there were insane Chinese only (I’ve decided) markets. Imagine crates upon crates containing thousands of chickens, geese, ducks, pigeons, rabbits, and even a few dogs.  Pigs and sheep were hanging upside-down being skinned. And blood, everywhere. The crates were completely inhumane, and the stench horrible, but hey, how many people can say they’ve seen that? Besides the shops and markets, we spent the rest of our time teahouse hopping (for reading purposes,) and tasting the local cuisine.

            Once again, I could talk about the food for hours. Quail eggs on a stick, delicious. Globby green and purple blobs with no taste except sticky, not so much. Yak yogurt in glass jars with wax paper lids, that you drink with a straw, marvelous. Walnut shaped cakes with walnut and sugar centers, made fresh on an old-fashioned batter/mold machines, even better. And for the grand finale: bugs on a stick. It wasn’t the taste of the grasshoppers that bothered me; they had been cooked with a nice spice. The charcoal texture wasn’t even so bad, just annoying. It was seeing the whole grasshopper there in front of me that was so disconcerting. I got down two.

            And of course, like in most tourist traps, the main attraction was the native group exploiting their culture. It was just like that day in Los Naranjos when all of the Tsa’chilla got all dressed up for the Swiss tour group.  In the town center Naxi (pronounced Nahshee) women in traditional dress were leading the tourist in a dance. A couple of yards away the men were posed on horses for pictures. Although I’m pretty sure just as many people were taking pictures of us white girls as of the Naxi.  I may sound high and mighty about tourists, so I must admit how much of a sucker I was for those old-fashioned sewing machines making tiny leather shoes.

            In Lijiang I became very aware of how young I am. On the sleeper trains, in the hostel, on the streets, the closest people to Michelle’s and my age were with their parents. Last year I could never have imagined myself doing such things with only another teenager.

Love,

Katherine

P.S. If you’re ever in Lijiang, stay at the Panba Hostel. Michelle and I had our own spotlessly clean room, our own bathroom with hot water, and Wi-Fi! For only $10 an night per person!

           

Happy Fire Chicken Day!

11/25/11

            My first Thanksgiving away from home was…well…different. Besides my homestay mother (the native) sending me (the new arrival) off to school with two apples and a pomegranate (I usually just get the one apple,) the morning was business as usual. We had Chinese class, where I learned that “turkey” in Chinese literally translates as “fire chicken.” Can you believe it, we even had seminar! My leaders were very impressed by my ability to pay attention while drawing hand turkeys.

            Then we were whisked away for Thanksgiving lunch at an “American” restaurant. The turkey was imported and tasted fine. The cranberry sauce wasn’t fake enough for my tastes. The pumpkin pie was excellent. And the sweet potatoes, I have to say, were even better than at home. Sorry Mother! There was also lasagna and empanadas… I’m not quite sure why. At the end of the meal I was pleasantly nauseous, so I suppose it was a success.

            Then we were set free and all went in separate directions for our Independent Student Travel. My sleeper train didn’t leave until 10pm, so I spent the afternoon stuffing envelopes for TBB while listening to Christmas carols, and watching Forest Gump with the stragglers. Thankfully, I had gone to the American store the day before, and stocked up on American food for dinner. I had my second feast of the day of Pringles, snack pack butterscotch pudding cups, digestive cookies, root beer, and pop rocks that my mother had sent me from home.

            My next morning I got to Skype with my family.  In CT it was still Thanksgiving, and there were about forty people crowded around the computer to talk to me. Coincidentally, my family had six Chinese people over for the meal, two of which don’t speak any English! My family loves their stragglers!

            Hope you all had wonderful Thanksgivings!

Love,

Katherine

Ladies Who Lunch

11/21/11

Yesterday I went out with the ladies who lunch, Chinese edition. And I must say, middle-aged Chinese ladies are very similar to middle-aged Jewish ladies. Both are shrill, both tell you you’re beautiful then force you to eat more. And for a more concrete example: both play mahjong.  Except mahjong here is like American mahjong on steroids. There are two sets of tiles, and while you’re playing with one set, the machine inside the special mahjong table mixes the other. Also, they play without cards. I wonder if they’ve memorized all the combinations. Yes, I realize I’ve lost half of you by now.

            Lunch was a blast. My homestay mother’s friend who reminds me of my Aunt Rita was there, and she was a riot. My homestay brother and his girlfriend were there too, bickering as usual. How do I know that they’re bickering if I don’t speak Chinese you ask? Well I just do. They’re such a funny couple; she’s a full head taller than he is. Also in attendance was a mother daughter pair. The daughter, much to my delight, spoke some English. She was able to tell me that I was eating “pig face.” I think I might have preferred not to know, but after chicken feet, I can handle anything.

            They ordered a Roman Feast’s worth of food. We were in a fancy Lazy Susan restaurant (so fancy you couldn’t throw your bones on the floor,) and had eleven dishes for seven people. Thank goodness one of the few phrases in Chinese that I know is, “I’m full.”

            Afterwards, the waitresses wanted to take pictures with me. A few times now our group members have been stopped for pictures with “the whites.” I expect it should be much worse though in India. I think it’s interesting how white upper-middle class kids in the US like to bitch and moan about the lack of diversity in our suburbias. If we saw someone of another race walking down the street, we wouldn’t so much a blink. Here, and in Ecuador as well, we get flat out gawked at.

That afternoon I met Jack. Jack was born in Taiwan, but lived in LA for thirty-eight years, and is an American citizen. He came to Yunnan for retirement. He used to own a very successful seafood restaurant in LA. Now he owns a clothing store in Kunming that sells American brands. His son makes a quarter of a million dollars a year working for Nordstrom, and his daughter works for AT&T. Her husband, his son-in-law, works for the FBI. And would I like some tea? And here’s his card. And I’m to call him if I need anything, anything! If I ever need to tell my homestay parents something, call him and he’ll explain. If I’m ever in trouble, call him! And if I like duck I should go to the restaurant across the street. Call him!

            So it turns out that I was invited to the wedding on Sunday night. It was quite an experience. The wedding took place in a giant wedding factory, where as many as five weddings can take place at the same time. When we arrived, all of the brides and grooms were standing outside in white wedding dresses and tuxes to greet their guests. Bridesmaids and groomsmen held trays of candy, nuts, and cigarettes. My mother took a handful of candy and insisted I put it into my purse.  We walked into a giant dining room, with free seating for the approximately five hundred guests. The meal began before the bride and groom had re-entered. If I thought there had been a lot of food at lunch, my whole perception of what a lot of food is was then changed.  There was so much food that they had to pile the platters on top of one another on the lazy susan. Every possible meat you could think of was served, in addition to spicy noodles, soup, dumplings, sticky rice, and probably six different types of vegetables.  Everyone at the table kept serving me more and more food. But my mother, such a sweetheart, protected me from spicy food and fish. I don’t know how she learned that I don’t like fish, but I could tell she did by the way she kept taking the fish out of my bowl and eating it herself.

            In the middle of the meal, the bride and groom entered. The bride had changed into a traditional red Chinese dress, and was carried onto a stage with a Bat-Mitzvah DJ type announcer inside a box with red curtains. The ceremony began with the bride and groom each serving a cup of tea to his/her mother and father. I don’t know how the bride could see with that red veil over her head. The ceremony was very quick, no more than ten minutes. At the conclusion, the bride and groom kissed only on the cheek. Besides their parents, I think I may have been the only one watching. Everyone else went on eating and talking right through the ceremony.

            After the ceremony, the bride changed into a silk red dress. Then the bride and groom did a shot with each and every table. And there were five hundred guests! I don’t know how they were still standing.  After about three shots, all the middle-aged woman who “never smoke” lit up. The smoke was horrible. The first thing I did when I got home was wash my hair.

            The wedding feast began at about six, and by eight everyone was getting up to leave. I’ve never been to such a short wedding. As I was leaving, a drunk man shoved a whole bunch of peanuts and sunflower seeds into my purse. I guess it really was time to go.

            I can’t believe I got to go to a Chinese wedding! How exciting is that!

Love,

Katherine

Bird and Flower Market - Take #3

11/20/11

            Should Tylenol Cold & Cough cost $1.50? Hmmm… I learned an important lesson yesterday: never go alone to get your haircut in a foreign city where you don’t speak the language. When I showed the man that I just wants a small amount off (just to get the dead ends,) he took that to mean just a small amount off the shortest pieces, and even everything else out. Now all of my hair is the length it was in the front, a little below the shoulders. I just keep telling myself, “hair grows, hair grows, hair grows.”

            Yesterday was Saturday, and I spent my morning off exploring the area around my apartment. It was a beautiful day for just wandering. At home I never realized how wonderful wandering by yourself could be.

            When I got home my mother signaled to me to put on shoes, and I blindly followed her and her sister to the bus stop. This is what my life is like now; I never have any idea of where I’m going until I get there. We ended up at the Bird and Flower Market. At this market you can buy anything from flowers, to birds, to tourist trinkets, to expensive jade, to minority treasures, to teacup pigs. It probably would have been slightly more exciting for me if I hadn’t been twice in the last week. The first time was by choice; the second I ended up there on a scavenger hunt. Oh well, I do enjoying seeing teacup pigs and the most splendid birdcages imaginable. I would by a bird just so I could own one of those birdcages. But I’m not sure how my host family would react if I showed up with a bird… I did by a beautiful Miao (a Chinese minority) hairpin.

When I went to the market with Sara and Allison (my first trip,) we ended up eating this horrible sugary gelatinous goop for dinner. This time, my mother knew a slightly better place to go. She took me to a dinner and a show type restaurant. As we were eating, three teenage girls in ill-fitting costumes performed various minority dances. Yunnan just loves its minorities. Only one of the girls seemed to really know the dances, and no one paid them much attention. Apparently the specialty of the restaurant was make-your-own soup in giant bowls. Seriously, I could have fit my entire head in one of those bowls! Then again, I do have a small head. As for the make-your-own part, all the fixings came to our table on a plate, and my mother simply poured them all in. It tasted fine. My mother and her sister did not order it. I think they just wanted me to have the experience, which was sweet of them.

Love,

Katherine

Dynamic Yunnan

11/19/11

Dear Everyone,

            As promised, Andrew and I took Rich and her friends to Salvador’s for some “typical” American food. We ordered French toast to represent breakfast, a hamburger to represent lunch, spaghetti with meat sauce to represent dinner, and a quesadilla…well it’s not really American anyway so… just because.

            They seemed to like the food, or at least they were good at pretending. They pronounced it “special.” I think the cheese really threw them though. They don’t really do dairy here.  The best part was watching them trying to use a fork and knife. They were fumbling as badly as I was with chopsticks when I first arrived. Teaching them to twirl the spaghetti was a hilarious mess; payback for all the times our chopstick skills have been made fun of! Thankfully, this time they let us pay.

            Last night our group went to see a dance show called “Dynamic Yunnan.” “Dynamic Yunnan is a grand, original ethnic dance musical. It fuses beauty of Yunnan ethnic minorities dance and songs with the power of modern stage exhibition. Through the artistic director's reorganization and recreation of the essence of traditional songs and dance with the most classic style of folk dance, the richness of the culture of Yunnan minorities is born again on stage with startling effects.” Yunnan is obsessed with its Chinese minorities. Seventy percent of the dancers were from minority groups. Some of the dances, especially the “Moon Dance” and the “Peacock Dance,” were especially beautiful. However, Chinese minority singing is not my thing. It is much too shrill (I know I’m one to talk.) It also really bothered me that in the most highly awarded Chinese dance show, only half of the chorus girls really had their lip sinking act together. Not to mention the fact that they were even lip sinking at all. Still, the drums and Tibetan dances were pretty cool, and the show was an experience I’m very glad to have had.

Love,

Katherine