Changsha Calamity

This is a long story, unedited and unfinished, but I reached a good point to stop and thought I would share it now and add more to it in the next couple of days. This is the kind of writing that I am working on over the next week--trying to get all of my thoughts together of the last 5 months. It has really been an amazing journey and I think that this story documents just how different things are here in China.
For those of you that are picture junkies, I will upload those in a couple of days as well.

January 10th, 2006

Today will go down as one of the craziest travel days of my life for a solo journey, with return, in one day. The day began at 7:45 this morning and its half past 8 in the evening and I am on the train that I hope will take me to the train station in Chenzhou, although I am not sure that it will. As usual with traveling solo, especially in China, I am in the hands of people that don’t know me, but still manage to steer me in the semi-correct direction. This is something that I have learnt to deal with, something that I seemingly embrace more and more now.
The goal of the day was to help out my dear friend Chris to get him, his family with two young children and his immense luggage to the Changsha airport, the provincial capital of Hunan province and onto the plane safely. That is the short end of the inventory, but as you will see in the following entry, there was much more to the complications than we had intended. Most of this task was accomplished, but with much trouble.
Chris and his lovely wife Ina have two of the most spectacular children I have known. Both of them have Africans names, which I am sure I will butcher, so I will simply refer to them as “the boy” Atlef and “the girl. Travelling with a child is tough, traveling with two of them as well as your wife is highly discouraged in a place like China if you are from the west and your family is accustomed to traveling better. The Chinese have no issues with it whatsoever, but as I mentioned, this is not the case for even the best traveled Westerners. Patience and a total trust in other people is needed.
For the past several days, we discussed at length the different options that were going to be available for Chris to do to make the journey to get to the airport, get on the plane and fly back to South Africa. The first issue was that he had to change his flight. Again, anywhere else on the planet, this is an easy option. You simply change the ticket, pay a fee if there is one applicable and move on. However in China, this is not as easy. There is not much of a credit system, so all possible change fees happen just prior to boarding. This is important to remember.
The other issue that immediately became of consequence was luggage. There wasn’t just a lot of it, there were huge amounts of it. It’s a family that moved to the orient to teach English and to look into importing some goods into South Africa as a side business. So, in addition to the normal things that a family of four needs to survive, there were also added samples of different things that he is trying to import. These are not small things either—shovels, axes, hardware equipment that is expensive in South Africa. So in addition to having family supplies, he was burdened with the types of things a traveling salesman has—making the amount of luggage a lot for such a small family.
We began to discuss his options. The original plan was to take the family down to Changsha a day early, stay in a nice hotel, have a nice breakfast and spend the day relaxing before getting on the plane and heading off back to his reality.
Unfortunately for him, he let me prepare a late snack for his family. A few days before I had discovered this lovely, simple dish called tang yuan, which is rice flour balls with a sweet peanut mixture in them. It is simple to make, the little purple balls simply heat up in a little boiling water and are quite delicious—a perfect kids treat.


The boy ate too many. That, mixed with his certain butterfly in stomach syndrome that one normally gets from traveling the night before a big journey, produced a thick purple vomit paste all over the bed in the middle of the night.
Time to resort to plan B. At the time, plan B was nothing more than the standard, we need to figure something else incase something goes wrong.

TRAVEL NOTE: WHEN TRAVELLING CHINA, HAVE A PLAN A-D.
When I went to see them off yesterday morning, I could immediately tell something was amiss. Of course, I could almost instantly see that there was an issue. Bob, (all Chinese have random English names because we, the pathetic speakers of English, cannot pronounce any Chinese names except Yao Ming and Jackie Chan, was there with a slight worried expression on his face as well as Joanna, our resident Chinese do anything for the foreigners (imagine that little asian boy in the Indiana Jones films that was always there to help Dockta Jones), which meant that either they were on the verge of leaving or something has happened. As soon as I saw Chris had his clothes on from the last night, I quickly came to the conclusion that a plan B would be needed soon.
They decided to revert from Plan A because the boy had been sick that night, which normally would not have been the most serious of issues, but if you are going to be traveling by bus or train in China, it is recommended to be in the best of health as you are more than likely to be sickened by any one of a number of things that happen on public transport. Everything from the lack of normal toilets, just about everyman smoking incessantly to spitting usually does it for most. The decision was to cancel the reservation at the hotel and make the journey all at once. The reasoning was mostly the boy, but it also had to do that the flight didn’t leave until 7pm, which should have left tons of time to get everything settled and get on the plane. By either bus or train the journey takes 4 hours. By being on the road by 10am, that would leave 5 hours before the plane left—seemingly plenty of time.

Plan B seemed pretty easy.

Then again, so did plan A. We agreed to all go into town that afternoon and have a send off dinner and do some final shopping together. I agreed to meet them after giving another round of exams to my students. When I came back several hours later, I found the Chenzhou Television crew at their house wanting a last minute interview before leaving the country. I could feel the tension in the room as soon as I stepped in. Ina rolled her eyes at me as I looked to see what was going on in the house. This is not the best time to conduct an interview, I thought to myself. Julian, one of the most aggressive teachers I know, was the ringleader of the event. He had forgot to inform the family that they were going to be featured. If he had informed them, I think he would have received an unfavorable response. Not only were they conducting a short interview, but they were going to be following the entire family around for a full afternoon to see what a family such as theirs does while they are living in China. Of course it, like everything else that runs in the media, needed to be staged. The reporters wanted shots of the children watching their DVD’s, purchased from Chenzhou shops. They wanted to go shopping with us, which Ina immediately denied because she was planning on buying some last minute clothes in the shops. However, they were persistent and did not understand our demands to simply make it short and allow them a little rest before their long journey.

The camera crew followed us to our last supper, where the reporters left us just after eating most of the food which we paid for. The boy did not make much of an effort to participate in because of his stomach, which forced an early retrat from the men. We decided to go back to the house and avoid any problems with the little one puking all over the bus. When we arrived back to the campus, we were informed that the camera crew was awaiting our arrival back. I tried to shout at them, but their English is at level where the only thing that they knew was that I was annoyed about something.
After they left, we sat and thought more about the plans to go to Changsha with the children. Chris felt that the only option was to take the bus. He had attempted the bus before and it was less than acceptable of an adventure—especially when you follow it up with being in a plane for 12 hours. The bus offered less opportunities for a little kid panic attack, less Chinese sprinting for god knows what.

As we began to explore the options for a bus connections, Bob calls and says that he found out a car is going to Changsha and gave the option for them to travel in the car, which seemed like the idea scenario. The only car that they could acquire a Volkswagen Passet—a large sedan but nothing in contrast to what they needed to take six people with enough luggage to support a small nomadic tribe.
After many ideas going back and forth, a plan c was formed.
Chris, Ina and the kids would ride in the sedan with as much luggage as the car could carry. It seemed somehow possible that they car could hold most of the luggage. I volunteered as the standby who would take the remaining luggage to the airport by bus, an easy four hour journey from Chenzhou. It was my pleasure to help the family out however possible. Over the past several months, we had become good friends and I didn’t want to see them struggle with something as simple as getting out of the country for a well deserved break.
The next morning, the troubles began as soon as the car arrived with passenger. Bob seemingly forgot to inform the driver that the family would have large amounts of luggage in the car. When the car arrived and the trunk was opened, there was a speaker box taking up a large portion of the trunk and two other boxes with materials in them. The driver refused to remove any of these items, which left nothing but a small space in the trunk for the large bags. In the end, we are able to get two of the bigger bags in the back and three smaller ones with the children. This left Chris out of the car with me and five pieces of large luggage to take on the bus. Chris was not happy to be leaving his family on their own to travel to Changsha with a passenger and driver who spoke no English whatsoever, but there were no other options for us to explore. A plan D had been created out of the ashes of plan C.
I had already hired a car to take me to the bus station, figuring that there would more than likely be a lot of luggage left if all the family had gotten into the cab. As the car left, we packed the bags into the back of hired car and we were off to the bus station.
Travelling by bus in China is much easier if you are traveling with a family or with a lot of luggage because the train is almost always crowded with people and you have to keep a close eye on your possessions at all times. A train makes many stops with people getting off and on at rapid succession, so keeping an inventory over the bags was not a job we wanted to undertake. The bus is much more expensive than a seat on the train, but the comfort level is usually much higher and you can usually fall asleep without worrying about anyone going through your things.
As we boarded the bus, we were both relieved to discover that the back seats of the bus were empty of people. For a reason I have yet to fully uncover, the Chinese do not like to sit in the back of the bus and the seats are always free. They would rather sit next to the toilet than the back of the bus. Although I do not understand why, we certainly appreciate this. The bus would be the perfect way to travel, except for a few major problems. The first and most important are the conditions of the roads in China. Part of the reason why the world looks to China for cheap manufacturing of goods is in part to cheap labor costs, but it is also due to the cheap cost of transport of materials. There are seemingly no regulations when it comes to truck capacity on the roads in China, so the freeway system in clogged with vehicles attempting to go different speeds. Huge trucks roll slowly down the freeway while busses and cars try to weave in and out of the stoppage, trying to keep a schedule that is rarely adheared to. The way that transportation is set up in China is the first thing you notice—it is uncontrolled chaos at every turn. In the cities it is mopeds and motorbikes weaving through the lanes of clogged taxis and black automobiles carrying the privledged few. Buses and people weave into the chaos, stirring up a reciepe for disaster, but one rarely happens.
In reality, the statistics say that everyday more than 500 people die in China everyday from auto related accidents. That’s 182,000 people a year, which seems difficult to imagine, until you factor in that the official population of China is somewhere around 1.3 billion people although, like most other things in China, the data collections methods are shotty at best.
When you are on the bus, it is difficult to get anything close to solid rest because of the constant barrage of the airhorn coming from the bus to signal that it is coming through the area and to move. This is almost a constant noise that blares out about every three minutes. The bus needs to keep the traffic moving or it gets behind. People in China love their horns. Love them. Whenever they get the smallest opportunity to use it, they do, and it not just a short honk, the kind that you give to a friend as he is crossing the road. No, these are the types of honks that have the same effect as someone taking their nails and scratching the chalkboard. These are the types of honks that turn ordinary people into road ragers. When a bus driver presses the air horn and lays on it for a couple of seconds as he goes screaming past these over weight trucks, I can help but think of how this scenario would play out in America. Here, however, it works just fine. The trucks normally slowly get out of the way, in the same way that an elephant would if they traveled on the freeway. There are never any fingers traded or swearing, just a strange kind of cooperation between occupations.
It is, however, enough to wake the dead in the right mode. We have all watched too many car crashes in film and on television to be able to sleep soundly through a bus going about 70 miles an hour that suddenly lays on its airhorn and slows down to about 30mph in about 2.2 seconds. I imagine it is the same feeling as when a plane is about to nose dive into the ocean, minus the blaring airhorn. However, the Chinese seem to sleep through all of it, while Chris and I simple awake with fright, that tiny bit of drool dripping from our mouths from the deep sleep. We don’t mind it at first because our first thought is that is our last moment on the earth, but then as we realize that it is just another moment on the bus, we regain composure and wipe our mouths quickly.
Then, to further top it off, there are the distractions that are happening inside of the bus. In America, we take pride in having our own gadgets to tone things out if we want to. In China, the bus and at times the train likes to play music and show movies to help entertain you during the long journey. Most of the time it shows videos of pop songs that stick in your mind for weeks at a time, but it also occasionally likes to show films, mostly the B-rated kind of stuff that you never catch on movie screens, much less blockbuster.
The moment that we loaded onto the bus, I knew we were into trouble. Immediately, I noticed the music. Normally it is some Chinese rip off of a boy band that has long faded into the abstract of American pop culture, but today was something new. Indian Pop music, which in its very own merit, is actually much, much, much worse than anything the Chinese could copy—and its original. Not only was it a video of horrible Indian pop music, but it was a full length film set to music. More than an hour of the journey was dedicated directly to this “film”.
But wait, there’s more.
When the film ended, I felt a sigh of relief and instant relaxation begin to kick in. I thought to myself that maybe this is not so bad-we were comfortable, the sun was shining and I was on the road. Then the next movie began.
This one was pretty much devoid of music, so I would say that in all honesty it was actually a film.
If you have seen the puppet action movie, Team America, then you may have wondered where the idea for such a silly film came about. It was almost certainly this film. To go from a Indian pop music video movie to a B rated film about how America deals with terrorists in a Rambo like format goes without saying. I caught Chris’ looks as he watched the film in horror-not because he was scared, but he was scared of his children who might be on this bus with him. Explosions, guns, violence, the whole nine yards of things that you want to keep away from your children as much as possible were all being displayed in grave detail for the bus to watch and enjoy. It’s the kind of films that make farm boys patriotic in high school and they type of film that makes people beg for censorship even through they are aware that the first amendment protects such garbage—but here it is for all of China to watch.
Following that gruesome film, we thought that we must be getting close to Changsha and began to chat about what Chris was looking forward to doing when he arrived back to his homeland. Topping the list, as with most people from the west—Food. He had thought for weeks about exactly when they were going to land, so he could look forward to the meal that was closest to that moment. Most of all, he missed breakfast. Bacon, eggs, coffee.
Just as we were swapping stories of struggle like old war buddies, the next film began. We laughed with each other as we looked at the screen.
Within five minutes, we figured out just what we were in for—a horror film. Not just any horror film, but one with heads being ripped off, delicious slang like “I am going to skull fuck you” shooting through the air faster then the bullets. Chris just shook his head repeating “I can’t believe it” like it was his personal mantra.
Thankfully, we arrived soon.
Which is where the adventure began. When you arrive at any new destination in China, it never seems right. The bus station in Changsha is a prime example of this. The bus station is not even near the downtown area of Changsha, which makes it difficult and expensive to get to the downtown area. The easiest solution to this problem would be for the government to have a shuttle that runs directly into the downtown. If this available, no one knows about it.
Regardless, when you arrive at the Changsha bus station, you are immediately greeted by a large crowd of people who are all attempting to take you wherever you need to go. Explaining that we needed to go to the international airport took a little bit of time and we decided to go with the most innocent looking person—a woman who actually had another women drive with us because I think she was a little scared of us.
As she began to drive away from the mob, I nodded to Chris. It was a good idea just to get out of there as quickly as possible. We could make this woman take us where we needed to go with the right bargaining skills, which I have learned in my five months here.
Travel Tip: Always find out exactly how much A Chinese would pay for a cab ride.
The first thing to do is find out what the Chinese think it should cost. For this, I went to the guy that brought me to China,—Bob. After filling him in on the details, he informed us that the price that the cab driver was demanding too much money in his experience. I could tell by his tone that this was a lot of money in his eyes. 120rmb was the price quoted. I decided to believe Bob and I signaled for the woman to pull over. She immediately became concerned about my wishes. As the car slowed, I quickly made a move to get out of the car, this is the best way to bargain with the cab driver that is trying to rip you off. The problem with this was that in my haste from hearing Bobs tone, I forgot to inform Chris of my plan. As I jump out of the car, it catches Chris off guard. Before he is fully aware of what is happening, I am out of the car, walking to the back of the vehicle where I begin to bang on the trunk, yelling 100rmb in Chinese. The moment becomes both tension and humor coming together as the women and Chris are not really sure what is going on, which makes it funny because I am sure I am making a statement. Due to the Chaos, the woman agrees 100rmb and I get back in, acting pissed off at the situation. I say to Chris in an angry English tongue that if he ever thinks he is being overcharged for a cab fare, the best thing is to get out as soon as possible and leave. He laughs heartily. The plan would have worked if we didn’t have so much luggage, and if I would have let Chris know of my plan.
The cab ride still ends up costing Chris 120rmb, because he had to pay the toll to go there and back, which is 10rmb each way. He didn’t care, he just wanted to see his family. Afterall, the total cost was a whopping $13.00usd, which is what you should always keep in the back of your mind when traveling in China. 120rmb sounds like a lot of money, but in reality, it’s the cost of a CD.
* * * Read more!

The Plan

Tommorow I will finish my grading for the term and will spend the next week going over as much as I can with my writing before taking up what I consider to be the third leg of my trip. The first was the journey here, the second is comprised of all that I have done since arriving here and teaching. The third leg is going to be about the travelling that I came here for--three weeks of solid bliss that was originally earmarked for travels in China, but has since changed and will now involve a little rest in Chenzhou before heading out to explore as much of China as I can without freezing. Then I will come back to Chenzhou for a couple of days to relax and refuel and then head off to see Thailand for about two weeks.
So, you will have about a week of blogging where I will upload a lot of content, then I will be off travelling for three weeks, which at this point, seems so surreal. Read more!

Ahhh, the end of the school year is here.
The last week has been an interesting one.
The weather has turned this once warm, tropical like area into a frigid tundra which really isn't a tundra at all, but the Southern end of China doesn't really know how to heat their homes very well, so the cold circulates and settles in without much to prevent it. A subzero temperature in America is the equalivant to freezing here because of the lack of proper insulation and heating. The days are often covered in low level fog, much like Seattle for most of the winter, but a little colder. The days where the sky is clear and beautiful, the blueness of the atmosphere radiates like the sun in September here. I long for those days where the airconditioner was at its coldest, the mosquitoes having everything from a mid night snack to the full course meal Tim Hogg style and my nights full of nightmares of catching malaria or typhoid.
Now, I lay in bed for hours more than I should, afraid to get out of the bed and face the inevitable chill the morning without much sun brings.
These days my patience has been tried several times as well as the kids that are my students have met their day of reckoning, the day where it shows what kind of students they really are. With the weakest ones, I try to have mercy on them, knowing their plight--knowing that they are smart, just like me, but they don't care for all this that doesn't seem to really matter--this that really bares not much significance on them or what they are going to end up doing once the fantasy of college is behind them.
I try to have mercy on them, either because they remind me of a younger me or because I feel pity for them in their time, their life in China.
There are some basic rules about the students in China that fit into the following catagories:
1. The Serious student. In each of my class, I have about 5 of these people. Most of them are my friends and I know their names. They like English either because they are fascincated by the language or the culture--either way, they enjoy it and they do well with it. You can tell that they do well with all of their subjects because they are not like the other students--they are smart and ahead of their other students.
2. The student. Not much going on here. The majority of people at my school are these people. Not too smart, not dumb, but mostly don't really care for the academic side. They like the foreign teachers and think we are here mostly for the entertainment factor (which we hate, by the way) Most of these students are worried more about the social side of college--they are always going to all these little parties the students put together, but they don't really understand the English classes and their level of comprehension is enough to pass, but this is mostly because the level is set so low.
3. The "I am an English major because my parents made me go to college because we have money and I don't know how to do anything else."
Need I say more? These are the ones who speak little english and don't give a shit.
4. Cheaters.
I fucking hate cheaters.
Every class has a couple of ones that are just cheaters because they think (and they are mostly right until they met me) that they can get away with it. These are almost always males, which is hilarious because I have about 5 guys in everyclass. My final project assingment on its face seemed like it was a difficult assignment-- my students had to read a book in English, keep their thoughts in the journal on the book and then work hard and provide a good paper in the end to document what they learned by reading the book and what they went through in thinking about the themes in the book.
Most of the students turned in book reports of the book, which was okay with me for the most part--the first couple i read I was upset with them, but the more I read, the more I realized I was pushing them too hard with all of this. These kids have been spoon feed an education all their lives--they have difficulties thinking outside of the box, which is what I was asking them to do. I gave everyone a break on this note and seriously scaled back the assignment, admitting defeat.
Yet, I still had several students turn in work that they tried to pass off as if they actually did most of the writing--until I found the exact paper on the internet and accused them of cheating. I will probably upload a couple of examples of papers in the next couple of days, both real and stolen, so you can see the difference. It is just amazing that these kids actually thought I wouldnt find the papers or accuse them of cheating. I was more angry about that--if you are going to cheat, at least spend some time trying to be a cheater!!!

Then the worst part of it all, none of this matters. If you fail a student, they don't have to retake the class, they just keep going forward, getting toward the degree. What motivates any of them to do any better? I think that it mostly comes from a need or a desire to suceed for some of them. For the others, they know that they are stuck in this wierd realm where they pass through without proving themselves to anyone, which must be a strange and somewhat difficult place to be. I try to have patience and understanding with this system, but frustations like these draw me on edge. The school makes light of the foreign teachers finals and puts heavy stress on the week long "finals", which do not account for that much in the long run because the finals don't actually cover as much what is taught in class as much as what the students need to learn, which is what they just memorize a week before the exam. This makes it very difficult to educate--both for the institution and as well as the instructors. Read more!