Marathon Lunching: Beijinger Style

Our last week of work in Beijing consisted of three marathon lunches with multiple team members from work.

On Monday, our China mentor Mr. Li, took us to a restaurant about 40 minutes from work called Beijing Noodle King. I'm sure this isn't the exact name of the place, but that's what Apple maps translated it to. Mr. Li is from Beijing and he wanted us to experience traditional Beijing cuisine before we left. Mr. Li, Rick, and our two translators Glenda and Nicky and I all piled into Mr. Li's VW Gulf and made the drive to this noodle house. 

We arrived and Mr. Li showed us around the restaurant and we got to see these gigantic coy fish swimming in a tank--they were massive! Nicky and I got pictures taken together and then we feasted on amazing Beijinger Chinese dishes. Mr. Li ordered dish of boiled cabbage covered in spicy mustard sauce...it sounds totally weird, but I seriously loved it. The sauce was lethal though and I think it permanently burned my nasal cavities. Next up were these tiny pork balls that looked like quarter sized meatballs. You know, now that I'm actually thinking about it, they may have actually been legit pork balls...like real balls...bahahaa!!! Whatever though, who cares if they were, that shit was good. I could have eaten 30 of them, and now I know what I'm serving at my next house party. 

Following the balls were pork sausage slices...just like salami, but a different color. Up next, fried spring rolls, similar to an egg roll in the US, but with a very different kind of filling. 

And for the record, you cannot get eggrolls here, or General Tso's chicken, or any of the shit they serve at home (who is General Tso anyway?). There are some similar kinds of dishes, like pork and noodles or pork and vegetables, but the stuff you're ordering from #1 China Restaurant in West Chester does not exist, so stop asking for it. You cannot get egg rolls here because eggrolls aren't actually a real thing. Eggroll doesn't even translate in Chinese and the translators will look at you completely puzzled. Then when you keep insisting on eggrolls, you will most likely receive a hard boiled egg or an eggplant dish, so don't look perplexed when that happens (insert some serious eye roll action here). Sorry, I digressed...

Ok, so after the pork sausage slices and a plate of cucumbers dipped in soy and vinegar sauce (one of my favorite dishes I've eaten all month long) these huge bowls of fresh handmade noodles, edamame, celery and sprouts were served with a brown bean curd paste sauce. You mix the bean curd paste into the dish and it turns it turns the dish into a brownish color. This dish was hands down my favorite dish in China. I loved it so much I could eat it every week. Then Mr. Li went big, and he ordered a traditional Beijing drink that was served in a big soup bowl with something that looked like a sour cream donut from Dunkin Donuts, but it was fried and crispy. You know the crispy noodles you get at home if you order won-ton soup? Picture those, but one big donut-looking one. You are to sip the drink then take a bite of the big crispy noodle. As Mr. Li predicted, I didn't like it at first because it was a really weird taste (like a mix of green beans and cabbage), but I kept drinking it and got used to the flavor. After a while, I didn't totally hate it, now I didn't totally like it either, but I kept drinking it out of respect and gratitude. We finally finished lunch after an hour and a half, then headed back to the office...I basically needed a nap after that! 

Marathon lunch #2 commenced on Tuesday afternoon at the place nearby where we had lunch on our first day (aka my first lazy susan experience). Truman, Sabrina, Mr. Li, Mr. Du, Glenda and Nicky invited us for a really nice laid back meal. My favorite part of this meal was the shrimp served with the head and shell on. Truman, who is Chinese, but lived in the US for several years and speaks extremely good English, spins the lazy susan my way and whispers, "you eat it with the shell on, don't be scared" I grabbed my chopsticks and dove right in. The shell was really soft and it helped hold all the juices into this tiny buttery bite of yummy goodness. My fat ass kept spinning the shrimp back to Nicky and me. No pull and peel action needed here! 

If there's anything I've learned about food here in China is that nothing is wasted, absolutely nothing. With the history China has had, and with the amount of people to feed here, they can't actually afford to have any food go to waste. For example, the noodle dish that we ate with Mr. Li was served with a bowl of cloudy water. I asked Nicky what is was and she tells me that it's the water the noodles were boiled in. Yeah, the water the noodles were boiled in was served as a hot drink at the table like it was a punch. Of course I drank it...I actually had thirds of it. 

When I came here, I had a talk with myself and said, Lauren, you will try everything once. You do not have to eat seconds, but you try whatever is given to you and then you will smile. Luckily the Chinese do not use mayonnaise, so I was in the clear in that regard. The same rule would not have applied in Belgium, New Zealand or Australia because I would have thrown up before I could even take a bite. Duck intestines? Sure, gimme it. Mayonnaise? Get the fuck out of here you heartless prick.

Which leads me to Marathon lunch #3. We ate at THE BEST duck place in Beijing. Apparently it's where all the foreign diplomats are taken to eat, so this place has to be 1. Totally baller and 2. Goddamn expensive. My friends, it did not disappoint and you guessed it:

Duck: check 

Duck soup: check

Duck feet: check

Duck liver: check 

Duck intestines: check 

I ate the entire duck except for the feathers and beak. Rick asked about the beak and they actually said, it's too hard to eat. So this means that they've tried to eat the beak. 

OMG  

I ate all of Joey and Chandler's pet...and you know what? The first thing they brought out today was the duck feet. Now they are de-boned, so it was just the skin. But I can't lie here, I got a chill when it got spun to me and I kinda wanted to crack my neck in preparation to eat it. But you know what saved the day? That spicy mustard showed up! I dowsed those duck feet in that spicy mustard knowing it was going to light up my nasal cavities like it was the fucking Fourth of July. Everyone's mouths at the table dropped because they all knew what I was in for, but I knew too and I took it like a champ...a crying champ because it was so hot my eyes immediately started tearing, but a champ nonetheless. They probably thought I was a complete moron and it was most likely the equivalent to ordering the goddamn eggrolls like some other people, but whatever. I ate duck feet. 

I was seated next to the VP of marketing at our company, and like our mentor Mr. Li, he is also from Beijing and he is extremely proud of where he is from. He asked me if I wanted to try all parts of the duck and I told him that I would eat whatever he was ordering. So Mr. Yu orders duck soup, which was absolutely delicious, except that it was about 85 degrees in the room we were in I was sweating like I was in a sauna, but whatever. Then the server brings in this bowl. And this is the bowl of motherfucking bowls. My Italian Grandmom had this bowl that she served sausage and meatballs in. It wasn't even a bowl, it was a trough. This thing had to weigh 10lbs when it was filled to the brim with sausage, meatballs and an inch of grease. The bowl they brought out reminded me of this, but it was filled with duck guts (ask Nicky so graciously interpreted it). Lots and lots of leftover duck guts mixed with a broth and some vegetables. Mr. Yu spins the lazy susan my way and dishes me this dish......

When I was in high school I worked at this mom and pop super market called Freed's. Freed's had (and still has) the best selection of lunchmeat around. Every weekend this old man would come in right at 8am and would order this stuff called souse. Souse was a gelatin and red pepper mixture of all the leftover "yuck" from a pig (I think it was a pig). Whatever it was, I used to die every time I had to wait on this guy. It even got to the point where my friends Joan and Tammy would just be like, I got you girl, I'll wait on him him (praise the lord for those fine ladies). 

So Mr. Yu spins the dish my way and serves me two pieces a very compact  meat-like substance. It's now or never and I forge ahead with my chopsticks and bite into piece #1 which tastes like iron (err the liver). It was ok, I didn't hate it, but I didn't like it either. Then piece #2 was a weird taste that I cannot describe and I shoved it in my mouth like I was in a Nathan's hotdog eating contest. But again, I survived. All I kept thinking was please God, don't spin that lazy susan again for another round.

I have eaten so many amazing dishes here. Sure, we can all crack jokes about eating dogs and horses or whatever...and maybe I did eat some questionable food over the course of this month, but you know what? It was all really good. Maybe I'm brave, or maybe I have a pretty hard stomach, but I was completely exposed to a culture like I never have before and that is something I'll never forget. 

Alex, I'll take a gold Buddah for $8

I ventured to the Silk Market with Mel on Tuesday night. I've done a ton of shopping while I've been here, but I couldn't come to Beijing and only experience the Pearl Market and not the Silk Market. They are both similar in concept, but obviously one has a lot of pearls and the other has a lot of silk. The Silk Market used to be outside in an alley, but now it's in a big building with 4-5 floors of clothing, handbags, jewelry, gifts and tons of silk shirts, dresses and scarves. 

When comparing the both, I actually prefer the ghetto Pearl Market to the Silk Market. The vendors at the Silk Market seen to be more expensive because they're in a nicer building. They start their prices out much higher too. I picked us a resin Buddha and asked a girl, "how much?" And she tells me, "for you 658RMB." I looked at her, laughed and then tell her, aww you're funny, that's way too expensive." To do the conversion for you, 658RMB is $106 USD. $106 for a resin Buddah that I wouldn't pay $10 for back home. So she asks me what I want to pay and I tell her 50RMB...then she laughs at me. Stalemate. Mel and I begin to walk away and she's of course like, ok, ok...how about I give you this one for 70RMB and shows me the same Buddah just painted gold. I tell her, I'll give you 50 RMB since it's not the one I actually want. We have a deal! I win...Alex, I'll take a gold Buddah for $8. 

We didn't stay to long since we only had to pick up a couple things and we jumped back into the subway to get back home. China shopping escapades complete! Shopping of any kind back at home will be a total adjustment back to reality. I'm so used to telling people what I want to pay them. I can see myself checking out at Giant and the cashier saying, that'll be $80, and I'm all, umm you know, I think I'll pay $50. Then when she doesn't accept my offer of $50, I'll just walk away and abandon my cart. 

Loads of adjustment to come home to, but I will be greeting Giant, Walgreens and my nail salon with open arms. I know, I know, total first world problems! 

Sunday Sightseeing Disaster: The Summer Palace & Beijing Zoo

On Sunday Mel and I got up early and made the trek across Beijing to visit the Summer Palace and the Beijing Zoo.  We stepped outside of the hotel at 9am and were greeted with a trifecta of awesomeness, 100 degree heat, 100% humidity, and a very thick haze from the pollution. The air here is doing wonders for my complexion (said no white person in China ever). 

First stop, the Summer Palace, a massive park in west Beijing where the royal families once retreated to for rest, and then it eventually became the royal members' main residence. This place has been recommended for sightseeing by everyone here, both ex-pats and the Chinese. People even recommended it over the Great Wall! We arrived by subway (which on a total side note, the Beijing subway system is super easy to navigate, is extremely clean, and is the fastest way around the city), then we walked in a mob of people to get to the Summer Palace. 

Apparently going to the Summer Palace is the thing to do on a Sunday in 100 degree heat and 100% humidity. Mel and I got in a line about 50 people deep and just waited in the basking heat with zero shade except for the girl in front of me who had an umbrella. However, instead of her shielding me from the sun, she played a game called, let me try to poke the American girl's eye out every 15 seconds. My sunglasses quickly became my only defense against the umbrella game...I was not about to come home with a newfound respect for Stevie Wonder. 

We stood there waiting for quite some time when three girls come up and cut right in front of us in line. Now line cutting is apparently a normal thing in China and people do it all the time. Well guess what, not on my watch ladies. I tap the girl on the arm and go, no-no-no-no-uh-uh! And I point up her and I point behind us and step right in front of her. Now as I am doing this, Mel reacts the  same exact way and does the same exact thing, like we had this planned or something! She and I both just started laughing. The girl looks at us, starts talking in Chinese and is clearly saying shit about us, but whatever, it's over with and we ignore it. So about 5 minutes later, Mel and I are talking and just carrying on a conversation when the main girl says in perfect English, fucking bitch and then proceeds to repeat it two more times. My head legit turned like I was the little girl from the Exorcist. Once it completed a 180 degree rotation, I just stopped and glared at her. One time, I had a girl that I played lacrosse against in college tell me that I gave her "a look" after she fouled me when shooting on goal. She said that she was pretty sure I was going to put her in a body bag right there in the 8 meter arc. So if I had to guess, I'm pretty sure I gave the same look to line cutter girl. Seriously now, you and your friends cut in front of me and my friend after we've been patiently standing there for about 20 minutes, and I'M the fucking bitch?! Girl, out of the 80,000 Chinese people standing in line, you decided to pick the only two Americans, and big muscular Americans at that, to cut in front of?! Nope. Not happening. If Mel had her roller skates on, she would have roller derbied their asses right back onto the subway (yeah, you read that correctly, Mel competes in roller derby three times a week, umm wrong girl to mess with!). 

So along with the unbearable heat and the name-calling, you can imagine that "exploring" with 80,000 people isn't much fun either. Our amazing day was quickly becoming a disaster! We walked a couple miles through the main areas of the park and saw some really beautiful buildings and got some great views of the lake. Mel took some pictures with a passerby who requested a photo with an American, and then we made an Irish exit and decided to hit up the zoo since we had the time.

So I'm not sure what I expected the Beijing Zoo to be like, but I felt like I jumped into a time warp and went back to 1975...not that I was alive in 1975, but I think this is what zoos probably looked like in 1975. What I saw was actually pretty hard to stomach and I'm not sure I want to go to a zoo ever again. I don't think China has reached the standards of the US (or Australia) when it comes to having facilities and a natural habitat for wild animals in captivity. Many of these animals didn't have proper shade to hide from the sun and their enclosures were extremely small. I felt horrible for the pandas, bears, polar bears and elephants. They looked extremely unhappy and depressed and many of them were not moving. Now again, it was hot as hell outside, and I'm sure that's why they were sleeping, but the entire place just didn't sit right with me. I'm not sure how or why you would want to have a polar bear in an outside enclosure in Beijing in the summer and only Mel and I couldn't even stay long because we were overridden with guilt. This Sunday of sightseeing was a total bust! 

Now ever weekend I leave the hotel in the early AM looking refreshed and clean as I pass each of the doormen and greet them hello. When I get back at the end of each day, I am a disgusting hot and sweaty mess. I look like I've spent the last 8 hours doing burpees. I probably stink of sweat and I'm pretty sure the woman that cleans the floors waits for me every Saturday and Sunday afternoon to follows right behind me to sweep. And ironically, even through the thick haze of pollution, this daego still manages to get a sports bra tan?! I didn't think getting a tan in Beijing was even possible! 

Mel and I went out to dinner that night and we found a Mexican place and ordered a pitcher of sangria to commemorate the sightseeing day of disaster. Sangria our Sunday savior...sangria can make anything better!

Craft Breweries, Lamas & Confucius

On Friday night the five of us ex-pats went out for dinner at a place called The Slow Boat, an American owned and operated craft brewery. From the outside, it looked to be a total dive, but when I opened the door, the beer gods shined down upon me, gave me wings, and I floated onto a bar stool. The place sat about 30 people, served five different food items, two side items, and there were about 20 beers on rotation. It was the first time I actually felt somewhat at home in China. 

Abbe and I ordered the pickle plate then I went with my usual "go big or go home" mentality and ordered a Fryburger, an all-beef burger with American cheese, french fries and an aioli sauce. It was glorious. For those of you that have had the pleasure of eating a meal with me, you know that when I'm eating something glorious, I pretty much inhale and don't come up for air. This burger was no exception. Good burgers, good beers and kickass bartenders, this place was a hidden gem. One of the bartenders was from Peru and she and I talked about all the different places we've traveled to while the other bartender from the UK let me sample a bunch of beers. For a moment, I had this flashback to New Zealand and the situation reminded me of my time spent there, how I organically met people, befriended them, then traveled with them to different towns and cities. Meeting and connecting with people like that in the US is so hard to do. 

Saturday I ventured to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Ok, wait, I'm lying. So I had full intentions of visiting Tiananmen Square, and was making my way there when these Chinese soldiers/policemen started to usher people into a line. I end up getting sandwiched between a ton of people, a gate and a wall and I can't go anywhere. I didn't even know what the hell I was in line for! There were about 600 people in front of me (not an exaggeration) and then the line starts moving towards a security check point. There is this woman at the check point shouting out commands in Chinese to all of the people and she's pointing left and pointing right and I'm like, oh Christ, she's going to freak out because I can't understand her. For fear that she will kill me, I go to my only defense, I look at her and smile. She looks back and me and in perfect English, she goes "hi, you have a bag, you can go in that line right there." I laughed to myself and thanked her. Who knew. So guess what? I just put my bag through a security check and I still have no idea WTF I am in line for. Finally I turn a corner and BOOM, there he is. Chairman Mao is hanging on the wall staring right back at me and this massive crowd of people. So at this point I realize that I didn't have to go through Tiananmen Square to get to the Forbidden City, which is what I thought I had to do, and why I was so confused. I apparently completely bypassed Tiananmen and went right to the good stuff. 

I walk under the Mao portrait then into a very large courtyard, Then I stand in line for about 20 minutes to get my ticket to get into the actual Forbidden City. As usual I bypass the educational headset option because I have the attention span of a gerbil and I just want to take photos anyway. Let me describe this place in two words...fucking huge. You just keep walking further and further and there's building upon building. The third Ming emperor had this place built in 14 years and somehow managed to find 200,000 OCD laborers to build this place. Everything is meticulously handcrafted, from the painted details on the buildings, to the tiled stone designs in the ground in the garden. It is really breathtaking. After about 2.5 hours of walking through this city and a cheesecake popsicle break, I finally made my way through to the end. I am taking a quick break outside the city walls when I watch a little girl, all of six years old, hike up her dress and pop a squat on the sidewalk like she was tailgating at a Kenny Chesney concert. I stopped dead in my tracks. My body was frozen in sheer horror and my mouth hanging down to the ground. I managed to grab my camera around my neck and snap a quick photo. When looking back and admiring all the photos that I was extremely lucky to have gotten to take on that Saturday, nothing seems to compare to the photo of this little girl and that moment...1. Her bare ass hanging out from under her dress for all to see 2. While she peed on the sidewalk 3. At a major Chinese tourist attraction4. While her dad watched over in approval

Witnessing the small child peeing on the sidewalk at a place that is the equivalent to peeing in front of the Statue of Liberty, made me realize how much totally outrageous shit has just become normal to me here. It quickly slapped me back into reality and reminded me that I wasn't in Kansas anymore. 

Gym Etiquette is Not an International Thing

Guess how many people at the Oakwood hotel practice gym etiquette? One. It's me. 

Out of all of these people and their varying nationalities, not one of them understands the concept of working in, being conscious of someone's space when they're lifting, or just plain old, waiting your fucking turn. 

The other week, I watched a guy doing deadlifts set down his bar to rest. He walked away for about 30 seconds, when another guy walks into the gym, picks up the bar and dumps the weights off right onto the floor and starts using the bar himself! The bar was laying in the middle of the gym where it would only lay ONLY IF SOMEONE WAS USING IT! I stood there wide-eyed with my mouth to the floor. I totally would have words with that dude. Regardless of whether or not he could speak or understand English, there would have been words, and he would have clearly understood my message.

I was doing bench presses a few nights ago and had a guy doing side raises right next to the bar where I was benching. The space we have isn't huge, but what the fuck, just move over 3 feet so I don't hit you and you don't hit me. Btw, if I recall, I was here first. 

I'm pretty much the strongest person in the entire hotel except for these two guys I've dubbed Hans and Franz, and they both wear matching neon green Lotto soccer shoes. They're all juiced up, but their workouts routines consist of shit I did in high school. One night I watched another guy do what looked like Tae-bo. He was jumping all around and kicking and punching the air. I actually laughed out loud at him at one point when it got real ridiculous. He was like a Swedish Tae-bo ninja.

They stare at me like I'm an absolute lunatic. I had a guy tell me as I was in the middle of doing ladder push-ups (8x, 10x, 15x, 15x, 10x, 8x) that he "was surprised to see me doing push-up and also that I could do so many, because girls cannot do push-up." (Read that quote like I'm doing a Swedish accent or something)

Umm excuse me?

Did you not just watch me do 66 push-ups? 

Girls can do push-ups.

P.S. I'm a lot bigger than you so watch it. 

You know what though, after thinking about it, the women who work out here are terrible, so what does he even know? They're all decked out in their brand new Adidas outfits hopping from one cardio machine to the other. 

And speaking of terrible women athletes (if you can call anyone in this gym an athlete), let us not forget about the girl I watched fall off the treadmill, roll off onto the floor and laugh because she fell, then forget that the treadmill was still running as she stepped back on and was promptly launched off again. I will forever have her reaction and the face she made during and post-fall stamped into my mind. I never want to forget that moment for as long as I live. 

As much as I hate the lack of self awareness of the foreigners at this gym (in a hotel...in China), I am very fortunate enough that it is so well-equipped and extremely clean. It has definitely made my stay easier and more like home. However, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't excited to return to my meathead haven where girls that do push-ups in cut up t-shirts are acceptable, and I am just one of the guys. 

The Pearl Market & The Knock-Knock Room

The other day, Mel and I visited the Hongqiao Market or the Pearl Market, which is this huge indoor market filled with everything from electronics, handbags, shoes, souvenirs, jewelry and well...pearls…thousands and thousands of strands of pearls. This place is absolutely nuts. As soon as you walk in you have 4 foot Chinese ladies waving selfie sticks in your face and yelling SELFIE!!!! I never thought a 4 foot Chinese lady would be intimidating, but these women are fierce and persistent. We practically run through the electronics section and enter into the section with yards of fabric and scarves and more 4-foot Chinese ladies. As soon as you show interest in something you have their undivided attention and they're literally throwing shit at you telling you they will give you the best price. Mel and I take some interest in some scarves (I mean of course, I only own about 300 of them) and we're digging through piles and piles of them. I find one I like and I ask how much. Now up to this point, people that speak English here are pretty much nonexistent except for our translators. I'm wondering how we're going to start negotiating on price if they don't speak English, but we come to find that all the vendors at the Pearl Market speak very good English compared to the rest of the country or even where I work.

[Sidebar: I know it may sound ignorant that I am mentioning that people "don't speak English" and I literally know 6 words in Chinese, but a very comforting thing here is that the Chinese do not expect you to be able to speak Chinese in their country, and they will go out of their way to help you because of this language barrier. That is a far cry and the absolute total opposite of some other asshole country named Amurica where everyone expects you to speak English if you are visiting. End sidebar].

 There are two universal languages in this world. One is love. The other is money. As I said, most vendors can speak pretty good English, but every one of them has a calculator at their stand and you type what you want to pay into the calculator. There are two ways to go about this, the first way is the vendor types in what they want you to pay. Everything that I was told and everything that I read said to cut their price by at least half. So if they're asking 100RMB, you offer 50RMB. Because I am an asshole, I offered roughly 25% RMB to everyone and worked my way from there. The second way is they ask you what you want to pay. So of course I have zero concept of what things actually cost, so I just say a very low number for this way too. For example, I type 50RMB into the calculator. They look at it then laugh, some say "oooh nooo" then type in what they actually want. Some will get angry at what you offer, and I actually had one lady tell me that she was trying to make a living, to which I replied, you asked me what I wanted to pay and I told you, you can't get mad when it's not what you want (insert laughing crying face emoji).

After a few rounds of this, Mel and I developed a system. Working in pairs seems to have its advantages. If I was looking to buy something and negotiate, the vendor would type the asking price into the calculator. I would then repeat the price to Mel and she would laugh, wave her hand and go noooo, too expensive! Then the vendor would type in a cheaper price and we'd repeat the routine all over again. The third time around, I would type in what I would want to pay (25% of the asking price) and then the vendor would pretend to fall over from my lowball price. I'd then say, "ok, nevermind" and start to walk away. As soon as they see you walking away, then panic and come down to your price or go a little higher than what you offered. Depending on what I was buying, I might just give them the last counter offer because it was literally a $2-3 US dollar difference. Other times, I would say no, that was my final offer or I'm out. They almost always give you want you want…we literally had one lady scream, "OK, OK, OK! I give you the price" just so she wouldn't lose the sale to someone nearby who is selling the same stuff. We also developed another strategy where we would come up with a lowball price and then say, "that guy over there was giving it to us for 50RMB." This strategy—yes the strategy of lying through my teeth—was also very successful. 

 The rush and the feeling that I get from bargaining with people like this is the exact reason why I do not allow myself to gamble. I guess bargaining with someone is a form of gambling, but I don't put it in the same category as going to Vegas or AC. I get this endorphin rush from all the back and forth, and I love the feeling I get when I win. And you all know how much I love winning. Again, many reasons why gambling isn't in the cards for me (HA! I bet you didn't see that pun coming).

So now let me tell you about a part of the Pearl Marketing that every ex-pats calls "the knock-knock" room. The knock-knock room isn't actually in the Pearl Market, it's in the Jewelry Market building next door, and it's a hidden section in the basement of the Jewelry building and it's only open to foreigners. You basically need to go there with someone who has been there before, or you get extremely precise directions from that someone and attempt to find the door yourself. Mel and I were unable to go with someone who had already been there, so our directions were as follows, "go down the escalator 2 floors, go left to the end and make another left, keep following the arrows on the floor and then you'll see fake leaves hanging on plastic, you are looking for this (insert image that was texted to me), go through and on the right is the door. Knock on it. (I will post on my FB and Instagram accounts so you can see the actual door). So we follow these directions and I walk through the curtain and then the door opens (ok, so I didn't have to knock!). A guy waves us in and then shuts the door. We are then lead into several different rooms of all containing high-end luxury goods. I turned to Mel and in a million miles a minute was like, "is it hot in here, I'm hot, yes, it's definitely hot in here, I'm sweating." And now looking back...no jackass it was hot because your heart was pounding through your chest and you were sweating your ass off because you just entered a secret room in the basement of some market in China, that has a hidden door that you need to knock to get into, and you can only be a foreigner to get inside!

We were told that these goods are all counterfeits, but I'm not so sure. The merchandise that I was looking at was so well re-produced that I don't think anyone but the person designing it would even know. Everything had hangtags, official boxes, cases or bags. I'm pretty sure that I just bought stolen merchandise and I only spent $200. I'm actually paranoid about writing this...I'm totally getting nabbed at customs on my way home. I'm screwed. Come visit me in jail.

Bathroom Rules, Regulations & Best Practices

Many of you have been inquiring about the bathroom situation here in China, so I'm going to take this time to enlighten you. But first, let me take you back to 2007 when I saw a sign on a bathroom stall in New Zealand about 'how to sit' and 'how not to sit' on a bathroom toilet. I read it and thought to myself, who in the world would stand on a toilet seat to go to the bathroom? Oh, naive 26-year old me. Flash forward to 2015, and I am living in a country that has not one, but two different toilet options to utilize when relieving oneself.

So there is the potty option, the normal American toilet that we all know and love. Then there is squat option. Picture a American toilet that had a piano dropped on it and it didn't break, but just flattened out and kept its flushing capabilities. The stalls are clearly marked with a sign that shows the type of toilet it is and it lists Potty or Squat. Now before you all freak out and think that I'm coming back to the US with thighs like Serena Williams, my hotel is westernized with a regular toilet and there is a "potty option" available at work (along with two squatters). 


Ok, moving on...if the toilet options aren't enough for your little noggin to grasp, there are also rules, regulations and best practices for toilet paper usage. In most places, toilet paper is not provided in the bathroom stalls or at all. So you need to BYOTP or you'll be pulling a T-Swifty and you're gonna need to shake it off. At my work, there is a community toilet paper dispenser on the wall that everyone uses. You grab what you (think) you need, choose your stall and go. Choosing the amount of toilet paper in advance is not only an art, but a science. Are you a TP crumbler? Are you a TP folder? Your method will clearly impact your TP usage. Once you actually think about this, you begin to estimate your needs. I have bypassed this issue but doing the "doubling up" method. I grab the TP from the community dispenser so it looks like I'm not too good to be like everyone else, but I bring in a pink makeup bag with me which has backup TP just in case...a TP workaround if you will. 


So the first few times that I went to the bathroom, I noticed extra toilet paper hanging on the hook inside the stall. I thought to myself, oh how nice, in case you need to spare a square, someone has done you a solid and they hung up their leftovers for future use (gulp). You also do not throw your paper into the toilet to flush, you throw it in the waste basket next to the toilet. I do not abide by this rule, not because I want to disobey anyone, but simply because I've been throwing my TP into the toilet for...I dunno, like 30-31 years, and I just forget to chuck it into the basket. I actually remembered the other day and threw it into the basket then got excited because I remembered. It's the little things. 


In my first week at work, I just assumed that the potty stall was used for emergencies, secretly smoking cigarettes and ex-pats, but as my days and weeks have progressed, I noticed that people (other than this American) are using this stall. One day I went to go and the red occupied flag was up on my stall (yes it's mine). I'm thinking, who the hell other than me uses this toilet?! I look under the door and don't see any feet. I'm puzzled, but then low and behold, the door opens and a girl comes out. I go into the stall and there's foot prints on the toilet seat. That's when the New Zealand bathroom stall picture pops into my mind. Eight years later, that photo has literally come full circle and I now understand what the Kiwis were referring to. 


I was also recently informed of those who use my stall and sit on the toilet (gulp) put toilet paper down on the seat so they can sit on it. When they are done, the toilet paper that was on the seat is the toilet paper that gets hung onto the hook in case you need to spare a square (double gulp). No toilet paper goes to waste. 


I refuse to use the squat toilets. I will hold it until my eyes bleed or I go to the 8th floor and use that toilet instead. Every time I go into the bathroom stall and the potty is in use I just wait. Girls come in and look at me like I'm nuts as I wave them ahead of me in line. Thou shall not squat. Then it happened. I swore to myself, that in my 27 days in Beijing that I wouldn't let this day come. I just wouldn't let it. But then it did, and it did in a public toilet at the Forbidden City. You want to know what should be forbidden at the Forbidden City? Squat toilets, that's what. I held it for as long as I possibly could and then I just couldn't hold it any longer. The Forbidden City is a labyrinth that won't end and I was going to pee my pants. I reluctantly enter the bathroom but once I get in there, I am excited to see many stalls. I'm thinking, oh good, there's at least one that's a potty stall! I check about 19 of the stalls and there she is, my potty stall is all the way at the end and it's open for use! I open this stall door and witness the most horrible sight of my life. I let the door slam and I choke back the lump in my throat. I stand there trying to gain back what is left of my wits, about-face then I open a squat door and enter. I gather myself, channel my inner-drunk girl and go for it...


And I will never be the same. I will hold it for the rest of my life before I ever willingly do that again. And well, that's all I have to say about that.  

Craft beer, the Forbidden City & an Unexpected Show

On Friday night the five of us ex-pats went out for dinner at a place called The Slow Boat, an American owned and operated craft brewery. From the outside, it looked to be a total dive, but when I opened the door, the beer gods shined down upon me, gave me wings, and I floated onto a bar stool. The place sat about 30 people, served five different food items, two side items, and there were about 20 beers on rotation. It was the first time I actually felt somewhat at home in China. 

Abbe and I ordered the pickle plate then I went with my usual "go big or go home" mentality and ordered a Fryburger, an all-beef burger with American cheese, french fries and an aioli sauce. It was glorious. For those of you that have had the pleasure of eating a meal with me, you know that when I'm eating something glorious, I pretty much inhale and don't come up for air. This burger was no exception. Good burgers, good beers and kickass bartenders, this place was a hidden gem. One of the bartenders was from Peru and she and I talked about all the different places we've traveled to while the other bartender from the UK let me sample a bunch of beers. For a moment, I had this flashback to New Zealand and the situation reminded me of my time spent there, how I organically met people, befriended them, then traveled with them to different towns and cities. Meeting and connecting with people like that in the US is so hard to do. 

Saturday I ventured to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Ok, wait, I'm lying. So I had full intentions of visiting Tiananmen Square, and was making my way there when these Chinese soldiers/policemen started to usher people into a line. I end up getting sandwiched between a ton of people, a gate and a wall and I can't go anywhere. I didn't even know what the hell I was in line for! There were about 600 people in front of me (not an exaggeration) and then the line starts moving towards a security check point. There is this woman at the check point shouting out commands in Chinese to all of the people and she's pointing left and pointing right and I'm like, oh Christ, she's going to freak out because I can't understand her. For fear that she will kill me, I go to my only defense, I look at her and smile. She looks back and me and in perfect English, she goes "hi, you have a bag, you can go in that line right there." I laughed to myself and thanked her. Who knew. So guess what? I just put my bag through a security check and I still have no idea WTF I am in line for. Finally I turn a corner and BOOM, there he is. Chairman Mao is hanging on the wall staring right back at me and this massive crowd of people. So at this point I realize that I didn't have to go through Tiananmen Square to get to the Forbidden City, which is what I thought I had to do, and why I was so confused. I apparently completely bypassed Tiananmen and went right to the good stuff. 

I walk under the Mao portrait then into a very large courtyard, Then I stand in line for about 20 minutes to get my ticket to get into the actual Forbidden City. As usual I bypass the educational headset option because I have the attention span of a gerbil and I just want to take photos anyway. 

Let me describe this place in two words...fucking huge. You just keep walking further and further and there's building upon building. The third Ming emperor had this place built in 14 years and somehow managed to find 200,000 OCD laborers to build this place. Everything is meticulously handcrafted, from the painted details on the buildings, to the tiled stone designs in the ground in the garden. It is really breathtaking. 

After about 2.5 hours of walking through this city and a cheesecake popsicle break, I finally made my way through to the end. I am taking a quick break outside the city walls when I watch a little girl, all of six years old, hike up her dress and pop a squat on the sidewalk like she was tailgating at a Kenny Chesney concert. I stopped dead in my tracks. My body was frozen in sheer horror and my mouth hanging down to the ground. I managed to grab my camera around my neck and snap a quick photo. When looking back and admiring all the photos that I was extremely lucky to have gotten to take on that Saturday, nothing seems to compare to the photo of this little girl and that moment...

1. Her bare ass hanging out from under her dress for all to see 

2. While she peed on the sidewalk 

3. At a major Chinese tourist attraction

4. While her dad watched over in approval

Witnessing the small child peeing on the sidewalk at a place that is the equivalent to peeing in front of the Statue of Liberty, made me realize how much totally outrageous shit has just become normal to me here. It quickly slapped me back into reality and reminded me that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.