Beijing Reverie

"Oh That's Different" No. 8

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Wed, 16 Sep 2015 07:43:00 +0000

It's been a busy month, with work trips, visits from Scott's sister and my aunt and uncle, and we're looking to possibly move homes. But here's the latest on Beijing's surprises.

Poor little Nia doesn't seem too happy sporting the sprout trend.

Both men and women like the beansprout craze.

1. Putting fake sprouts on your head is all the rage right now.

A few weeks ago, we started noticing street vendors selling little sprouts that you could pin on your head. They're all the rage in the city, selling for less than a $1 to pin one -- or multiple ones -- on your head. My aunt heard that the sprout was initially designed for a company, or that it came from cartoon, which my colleague Laurie wrote about earlier this month.

To join the fad, Laurie was kind enough to share one of her numerous sprouts -- picked up along the way for reporting purposes, of course -- with me, so long as I promised to photograph our cats with the trendy hairpiece. Sorry, little Nia.

A picture of one of the hutong courtyard homes we're looking at.

Same home, three different prices?

2. When searching for homes, no price is the same.

Scott and I are thinking of moving to the hutongs, or alleyways, which are the old neighborhoods of Beijing. While we love our cozy apartment in the Central Business District, we'd like to feel more immersed in culture, and see what it's like to live among locals. So we've been house hunting and recently found a two-bedroom, one-bathroom hutong courtyard home that several real estate agents were advertising. The agent who showed Scott the place quoted him one price; the agent who showed me the place quoted 2,000 RMB, or about $330 more a month, and a third agent gave us a price that was $500 more than the first agent's price!

Why the discrepancies for the exact same home? Well, real estate agents in China make U.S. brokers look like saints, and depending on the real-estate company, commissions vary widely. And, of course, there's no national standard or law to make sure people stay in a certain range. So you have to look at a lot of places, and try to suss out a decent agent.

Mooncakes: consume with caution.

3. You will never try a dessert more dense than a mooncake.

Mid-Autumn Festival, or ZhongQiuJie, is quickly arriving, meaning all the stores -- from Starbucks to the Westin Hotel to the little market down the street -- are selling mooncakes, the traditional food associated with the festival. These little cakes, which are a bit smaller than a hockey puck, are deceiving, as they're packed with flour, eggs, red bean paste, or a variety of other fillings. And you should only eat half, or maybe a quarter of them. They're the densest little things I've ever eaten and I've heard have up to 1,000 calories each!! I made the grave mistake of eating an entire one yesterday and felt fairly ill afterward.

The mooncake is popular because it's round like a full moon, which is thought to be a symbol of prosperity, peace and family reunion. As a result, these pastries can be pricey -- like upwards of $30 per little cake. While some people adore them, others say it's best to buy them for others, regift the ones you get, and then maybe throw them out.

A Rural Chinese Wedding

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Mon, 10 Aug 2015 09:19:00 +0000

Earlier this summer, Scott and I went to our Mandarin teacher's wedding. It was a totally cool experience, with new traditions and cultures -- along with a few things that looked the same.

Us with Hou Laoshi, or "Teacher Hou," inside the home she grew up in.

Hou Laoshi getting ready to show us around her village.

Hou Laoshi grew up in a small village in the northeastern province of Jilin. When we arrived, her jie jie, or elder sister, picked us at the bus station (to get there, we took a flight and then a three-hour public bus) and brought us to a banquet hall overflowing with food and neighbors. This was a Sunday, the day before the wedding, and the time the bride's family hosts a get together. In China, the groom's family traditionally pays for the wedding and it's usually hosted in his hometown, so the Sunday event was akin to a rehearsal dinner -- except with Hou Laoshi's entire village invited, as is the custom.

The table piled high with food at the equivalent of a rehearsal dinner.

We dined on duck, chicken, noodles, sweet potatoes, vegetables and fish. Plates were stacked on top of each other and the baijiu, traditional Chinese liquor, shots were flowing. At the end of the meal, we learned it's customary to put a pack of cigarettes and sunflowers seeds on the table -- akin to an aperitif, I guess.

One of her uncles, a lover of Mao, showing off his cell phone's home screen.

Once the banquet lunch was over, Hou Laoshi took us around her village. We got to see where she went to school, how she grew up and her home, a humble one-bedroom that serves as both the dining room, living room and sleeping space all at once, with a small annex as the kitchen. Her family grows most of what they eat, so behind the home was a large vegetable garden that included eggplant, cilantro, lettuce and tomatoes, and chickens in a coup for fresh eggs.

Part of the land that Hou Laoshi's family used to own. Today, it's the backyard to a small hotel with this manmade pond where locals go to fish.

We learned that her family used to be very wealthy and owned the most prominent plot of land several decades ago, with vast farming space. But after a flood destroyed the land, her father's family lost all of it and the government, as a concession, built a small one-room home for them.

From L to R: Hou Laoshi's aunt, father, older brother, Hou Laoshi, her mother and older sister in their home.

What struck me the most was the lack of privacy. It must be strange for Hou Laoshi to see the space that Scott and I have, after growing up in a one-room home where homework and sleeping and eating were all done together. The only private place, it seemed, was the outhouse. When I asked her about this, she shrugged; it was this way for her and all her neighbors, so it never seemed out of the ordinary.

Zheng He, knocking on the door to Hou Laoshi's home, ready to give hongbao to convince her family members to let him in. Villagers stand around to watch.

The day of the wedding, we awoke at 5 a.m. to be part of the procession, in which the groom has a motorcade take him to the bride's home, where he gives hongbao, or red envelopes filled with money, to the bride's family, who try to not let him in until he's given them enough cash. Once Zheng He, Hou Laoshi's fiancee, was let in, videographers and photographers hovered around the couple to document the customs of feeding each other noodles, to wish them a good, long life, and inviting Zheng He's family to come into the home and share a drink with them.

Feeding each other noodles, with the videographer getting every second.

A little girl poses in front of the BMW that will carry Hou Laoshi and Zheng He to his hometown for the ceremony.

Then we were off to Zheng He's hometown, which was about an hour's drive away. When we arrived, the villagers were all lined up to watch the bride get out of the rented BMW, with music blaring, and then the same tradition occurred at Zheng He's home -- taking pictures, inviting Hou Laoshi's family to drink around the table, etc.

Hou Laoshi and Zheng He pose with her family inside his home.

Scott and Zheng He (in the middle) with some of Zheng He's college friends.

After that, the festivities began, with a DJ on a raised red platform (complete with a bubble machine), who introduced the couple and then asked several folks to speak -- including us. Luckily, one of Zheng He's college friends who knows English and Chinese was able to put together a quick speech in Chinese for Scott to say, on our behalf. The villagers were nice, applauding for him afterward, though I have no idea if he said everything correctly! They probably were more astounded at seeing foreigners in this small town. (Some of them asked to take photos with us afterward.)

Scott, giving a speech in Chinese on our behalf. I just pretended to help hold the piece of paper.

Hou Laoshi, talking with a friend, in her second gown of the day -- a brilliant red qipao.

Once the speeches were over, the feast began, and plates upon plates of food were thrust upon us. Hou Laoshi changed into a red gown and she and Zheng He went around to tables to collect hongbao from guests, and then took shots of baijiu with the men and light cigarettes for them, as is the custom.

A group shot of us near the lake.

In the afternoon, we drove to a beautiful lake nearby Zheng He's village, where Scott tried to teach their friends how to skip rocks. Exhausted, Scott and I fell asleep on the kang, or raised platform bed in Zheng He's home, when we returned, to the amusement of all his family members. When we awoke, we drove back to a larger town and ended the long, but fun day with Karaoke -- a must here in China.

Selfie with the bride!

One of my favorite things about living in China is the ability to learn about this rich culture, and seeing a Chinese wedding in action was definitely a highlight of our time here. It helped me understand so much about the culture, how important family is and how communities really are close-knit entities, so much more then in the U.S., where we often don't even know our neighbors, much less invite them to weddings. There's something to be said for knowing so much about the people who live around you.

Most of all, the trip allowed me to understand Hou Laoshi so much better -- to see where she came from and how much she's achieved. It's a testament to her ambition.

"Oh That's Different" No. 7

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sun, 09 Aug 2015 07:08:00 +0000

It's summer time in China and there's no better time to observe some new customs:

Office shorts.

1. Shorts are totally acceptable as office wear in the summer.

Seriously. Silky, cotton, even borderline athletic shorts are seen in my office building. And you don't even have to wear heels with them to dress up the look!

These booties would probably be considered big in China.

2. Some Chinese men don't like big butts.

The other night we went out to dinner with a Chinese co-worker of Scott. He's thinking about going to business school in America and somehow we got on the discussion of him finding a wife there ... which of course led to him telling us he's not interested in American women. Particularly those with blonde hair and big butts. Which, of course, led to me explaining the song and first stanza of "I Like Big Butts."

Us at our teacher's wedding.

3. Weddings can happen any day. Like on a Monday.

Our Mandarin teacher just got married and the actually ceremony happened on a Monday. The date, June 15, apparently is auspicious (according to our teacher's mom) and that takes precedence over whether the timing may inconvenience people who, say, work.

My latest pedicure. Orange with polka dots.

4. Nail art is awesome.

When in Rome, right? My summer pedicures have taken on a new look, as I'm surrounded by women who spend lots of money on getting detailed, intricate designs on their nails and toenails. While I'm not brave enough to get mini rhinestones yet, I have taken to a few designs this summer. It's ridiculously fun, even if Scott thinks it looks a touch childish.

He's everywhere ... especially in classroom materials.

5. Mao phrases are found everywhere. Even in modern-day tests.

I'm currently studying for the HSK level 3 exam, which, if I pass, will mean I can read Chinese characters on the same level as about a first grader. As I've taken practice tests, some have involved Chinese sayings, many of which come from Mao Zedong. Here's an example: "Study hard and make progress every day." I guess I should consider it a two-for-one lesson, learning to read Chinese characters and get to know some common Maoisms.

Tea and Tulous in Fujian Province

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Thu, 18 Jun 2015 14:53:00 +0000

Bike selfie.

Last month, Scott and I decided to take a weekend trip to see China like we've never seen it before: on the seat of a bike.

Country riding.

Riding in the rain. He's still smiling.

Our friends Sui and Tom organized a private bike trip through the tea fields of Fujian province, in China's southeast, and to see the ancient Chinese architecture of the Hakka people. They lived in these spectacular round forts, essentially, as a means of protection.

The interior of a Tulou.

These people didn't want anyone to mess with them; they settled in the mountains of Fujian and then spent years to build these Tulous. It literally could take 10 years to build one of them. When U.S. satellite images first picked up on these Tulous, these mistook them for grain silos.

Built to last -- and let intruders know they're not welcome.

The trip was led by Bruce, a fabulous Australian with tan rugged skin who smoke and drank and still made cycling up long hills seem like a breeze.

This is Bruce.

Both days we biked about 50 kilometers, or around 30 miles. We rode in rain nearly the entire day, which wasn't as bad as you'd imagine. It beat sweating in the strong sun.

This man told us he was born in this Tulou and probably would die here.

We met Tulou owners, saw faded Mao-era slogans and painted pictures on the side of walls, cycled through a misty bamboo forest, road past miles of tea bushes and tasted many types of Fujian tea. After about 30 cups of tea -- and learning the proper way to sniff it, taste it and swallow it -- I finally found my liking: a tieguanyin, a type of oolong tea, and bought this year's crop, which is sweeter and lighter than some that have been preserved longer. The entire process was fascinating to learn, and made wine tasting seem simple.

Mao-era paintings outside of homes.

A small village in Fujian province.

So many of the places we saw we wouldn't have been able to access any other way and it gave us a whole different perspective of China: sprawling lush countryside, quiet that I didn't know existed in this land of 1.6 billion people, bright stars and fresh air. I kept telling Scott and the others, "It doesn't feel like we're in China!"

In the misty morning.

By the end of our 100-kilometer ride, our butts were sore beyond belief and we indulged in airport massages to relieve our aching limbs before returning to Beijing. This was one of the best trips we've ever taken in China, and I hope we can do at least one more with Bruce in the future!

Published Pieces

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Tue, 09 Jun 2015 15:08:00 +0000

Two items I thought I'd cross post here on my blog. Hope you'll take a gander!

InterNations, a network of guides for expats, interviewed me regarding life in Beijing as an expat and why I started this blog.

Floating down a manmade river at Longqingxia.

Q&A with InterNations

The Wall Street Journal has a great blog called WSJ Expat, which I write for on occasion. A few weeks ago, I wrote a piece about Hou Jinxia, my Mandarin teacher who has made frequent appearances on this blog. I'll be writing soon about her wedding, which Scott and I are going to this weekend!

My Beijing savior: Hou Jinxia

When Your Language Teacher Becomes Your Therapist

Happy reading!

We Get Visitors!

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Tue, 09 Jun 2015 14:51:00 +0000

The famous Terra Cotta Warriors in Xi'an!

This spring has been really busy for Scott and me, with many work trips and the visit of Scott's mom and stepdad!

Nancy and Greg hadn't traveled internationally much, but they were great troopers about trying new things and open to a lot of walking in the mid-April heat, which really felt more like July temperatures at times.

Scott and Nancy in Beijing near Tiananmen Square.

Along with showing them around Beijing and taking them to the typical haunts of the Forbidden City, Summer Palace, Olympic Park and Tiananmen Square, we went to Xi'an, the Shaanxi province town known for the Terracotta Warriors, which were built to protect the first emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang.

Street food in the Muslim quarter ... leg of something, anyone?

Nancy and Scott in a park in Xi'an.

Beautiful Drum Tower of Xi'an

Warrriors on guard.

An adorable chef in the Muslim Quarter, cooking hand-pulled noodles for us!

By the end of their visit, you would've thought they were Chinese -- bargaining for gifts, eating the local dishes and even ready to take on the traffic. And they probably felt like this man, after all of the travel!

Roadside cat nap in Xi'an.

"Oh That's Different" No. 6

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Wed, 20 May 2015 10:12:00 +0000

It's been awhile since I had one of these posts ...

Even if it's busted.

1. No discount; fix it yourself. Zara was having a ridiculous sale a few weeks ago and I found a lovely top for more than half off. One problem: there was a small tear on the cuff of one arm. Naturally, I asked for a discount, as I would in the U.S. and most likely would've gotten on. Not here. The saleswoman's response: I can't give you a discount -- and you can sew it yourself!

Don't make the mistake of asking.

2. Don't ask if it's free. I was listening in on my husband's Chinese class the other day when our teacher told him it's embarrassing to ask if something is free. Instead, you're supposed to ask if there's a small fee -- even if you know it's free -- to be polite.

Take your pick from Swedish meatballs to spaghetti at IKEA.

3. People go to IKEA just for dinner. Scott recently moved offices and needed to get some supplies at IKEA. Knowing from previous visits that it's a nightmare to go on the weekends, we opted to go during the week. We also decided to eat dinner there. We were joined by lots of other Chinese, who came just for the Swedish meatballs and lingonberry sauce, and then left, sans purchases.

Nice n' fake flower maze outside Raffles City.

4. Fake flowers are just as good as real ones. With spring in the air, and it feeling more like summer by the temperature, many malls and large gathering places in Beijing put up displays. Outside my office is a large maze, made up of all fake flowers and each day throngs of people stop to take pictures in front of them. Some even pose like they're stopping to smell the flowers. There also are fake bougainvilleas outside our apartment building. Oh China, I adore your copycat ways.

No more fan fandom.

5. Fans blowing directly on you are bad. Or so my Mandarin teacher says. The other day in class I was warm and she warned me not to have the fan face me directly. She said not only is it uncomfortable, it can cause your muscles to tense up. Go figure.

Branching Out

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Mon, 30 Mar 2015 12:24:00 +0000

My radio silence is inexcusable, but here are my excuses for not blogging lately: a work trip to India and my newfound love, binge watching The Americans. Yes, feel free to judge. But I've also been on some new excursions.

Found at a pop-up food fair in Beijing. An old-school boom box.

Scott and I recently realized we've already been here for about a year and a half. How did time go by so quickly? Once that realization swept over us, we started to panic a bit. There's still so much of Beijing, so much of China, so much of Asia that we want to explore and we're afraid we'll run out of time before seeing it all. Sure, that's inevitable, but the fact gave us a kick in the butt to try and avoid going to the same restaurants, hanging out with the same people and visiting the same stores. We're comfortable in Beijing now, which took so long to achieve, and yet we don't want that comfort to turn into a complacency where we don't try new things. I think about how long we lived in Manhattan and never really branched out to other boroughs for even simple outings as much as we should have. We want to try and avoid repeating that mistake here.

Our giant group at the Sichuan restaurant in the private banquet room.

So here's a rundown of some of the "new" stuff we've been up to in the past month.

This past weekend, we had dinner at a restaurant in the Sichuan regional government office compound, which is near the outskirts of Beijing in the southeastern part of the city. Each province has a regional office here in Beijing, a compound of sorts that has office buildings, hotels and restaurants. What makes these restaurants special, and sought after, are the cooks, whom are authentic Sichuan folks, meaning this is the most authentic Sichuan food you can get in Beijing.

Automatic Lazy Susan and random Panda bear centerpiece. Yes please!

Our friend Mengfei organized the dinner and with about 20 others, we sat around a giant table with an automatic Lazy Susan and chowed down on dan dan mian (a spicy noodle dish that's one of my favorites), tripe (stomachs of various animals; I wasn't a fan, but I tried it), mapo dofu and a fish and cabbage soup. Some of the flavors were so different, an explosion of sour and spicy and savory all at once. We drank yogurt to quell the spice and finished the evening with an obligatory group picture (above).

The ever-spicy, ever-delicious dan dan mian.

Another night, we ventured out to watch Joe Wong, a Chinese comedian who's performed at the White House Correspondents' Dinner and made appearances on David Letterman. You can see one of his appearances here. He was absolutely hilarious, telling great jokes about confusing American terms and practices (he had a great zinger about how police wouldn't let him shoot off fireworks in his backyard for Chinese New Year in Texas, but he could easily grab a gun and fire off a few rounds).

We also went to a pop-up food festival with our Mandarin teacher, watched To Live, an epic Chinese movie by renowed director Zhang Yimou that follows one family through from the heyday of the 1940s in China through the Great Famine and Cultural Revolution, and got to eat at Black Sesame Kitchen, a small restaurant in a charming hutong that serves private, reservation-only dinners twice a week.

Hou Jinxia, our adorable Mandarin teacher, about to try some grub from Andy's sausages at the food fair.

I'm a bit tired from it all -- I need to be a homebody some of the week, for sure -- but I'm also rejuventated by our new outings. It's a great reminder to never become too used to a place -- even if you've lived there for decades -- and to seek out new restaurants, new activities and new friends.

Silver Mountain Pagoda Forest

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sat, 21 Feb 2015 14:00:00 +0000

Atop Silver Mountain.

For a Spring Festival outing, Scott and I went with our friends Te-Ping and Ben to see the pagodas about an hour outside of Beijing. This is one of the few ruin sites that hasn't been destroyed in China and used to be a sacred Buddhist shrine/scene spot during the Ming and Qing dynasties. There are a handful of pagodas/stupas still standing, which are gorgeous.

View of Pagodas from the beginning of the hike.

On the way there, as if an auspicious omen, we happened to run into a herd of sheep on the road -- one the first day of the Year of the Sheep! Here's a quick photo Scott took from our cab window.

SHEEP!!

We got all the way out there only to learn the site has been closed since July for renovations -- the exact thing this place doesn't need! But since it was the holiday and no one was around (nor did anyone really care) we ignored the sign and walked right on in. We had the whole place to ourselves and took a lovely hike that led to the Bell Pavilion on top of one of the Silver Mountain peaks. The best part: our cabbie came and did the hike with us instead of just sitting in the car and waiting! Here are some photos from our great day.

Stupa time.

Cold but happy.

Pretty pagodas.

Our driver and hiker! Bonus: he sung songs on the way down.

At the top!

Ring my bell, baby.

Bell Pavilion at Silver Mountain.

Happy Year of the SheepGoat!

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Wed, 18 Feb 2015 13:54:00 +0000

Today officially marks the beginning of the Chinese Lunar New Year, the week-long celebration where basically all of China shuts down and the greatest human migration happens, as everyone who moved from the countryside to the cities returns home for the Spring Festival. On Monday alone, 850,000 people left Beijing. That's a lot of people.

View from our bedroom window on the eve of Lunar New Year. BOOM!

Scott and I took the opportunity this afternoon to walk around a sunny, clear and quiet Beijing -- something that rarely happens. In addition to blue skies, there were multiple seats available on the subway. I've never seen it this empty.

Beijing subway, Line 10 -- NEVER this way.

We ran a few errands and then stumbled upon a bar called Nashville, right here in Beijing! Of course, we stopped and had a drink.

After strolling around the city, we returned home to find the cats slightly perturbed. The annual celebration of fireworks had started -- Chinese families light them to scare away evil spirits in the new year -- and Nia and Paku weren't too happy. I'm hoping they get used to them, as people light them every night during the festival.

I mean, what are the odds of a bar called Nashville in the 'Jing??!!

So this year is the Year of the Sheep. Or the Year of the Goat. Or the Ram. It all depends on how you translate the character 羊, which technically can be translated as sheep or goat or ram. They're all the same in Chinese.

Professor Ho Che-wah, head of the department of Chinese literature at Chinese University in Hong Kong told the South China Morning Post, "that while sheep had a long history in Chinese society, the country's culinary past suggested the goat as the most likely animal to have been included in the zodiac. 'In ancient China, people ate six types of animals - horse, cow, goat, pig, dog and chicken. Goat is therefore included in the zodiac, too,' Ho said."

Too cute to be a ram. Or a goat.

Since I can't make up my mind, my friend Felicia had the ingenious idea of calling it the Year of the SheepGoat, hence the blog post title. Happy Year of the 羊!

Pucks on Ponds in Beijing

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Mon, 02 Feb 2015 13:57:00 +0000

A couple weekends ago, Scott played in a pond hockey tournament at Houhai, which is a huge lake in the middle of Beijing. In the winter, the lake becomes an outdoor playground, with speed skaters mingling with teenagers zipping by on ice sleds and children playing in bouncy castles put up on the ice.

Pond hockey + cold weather = Wings hat all day.

Scott's Houhai team consisted of players from his regular hockey team, the Bulls, which plays every Sunday night. I hadn't been to one of his games yet -- mostly because they're far away and often late at night -- so I finally played the good wife and came to watch the pond hockey tournament. I brought along our Mandarin teacher, Hou Laoshi, because she had never seen a hockey game.

Many of the teams dressed up in costumes (there was a prize for best dressed team) and came from as far as Dalian and Shanghai to play in the tournament. Scott's team didn't win, but they made it pretty far in the five-hour tournament.

Who you calling a fairy??

Hou Laoshi adored the game, commenting on how fast it was and not boring, unlike other sports she'd seen. She even got a taste for the scrums and checking that happen; even though it was pond hockey and technically the game was check-free, a player from a Shanghai team ran Scott into boards, which we were standing by. Hou Laoshi's beer got rattled and spewed into her hair and onto her gloves. Luckily, Scott wasn't hurt and Hou Laoshi was laughing afterward. I think that's when she really started to like the game.

Scott's cheering squad, complete with Beijing hockey scarves!

On the sidelines, dozens of Chinese players kept stopping by to see what this game played mostly by foreigners was all about. The final round drew quite the crowd. I overheard a few of them asking how the game was played and whether it was "ice golf," as one person put it (I mean, that's not a bad guess, really). I tried, in my poor Mandarin, to explain the rules as simply as possible, without getting into offsides and icing, which I swear I'll never be able to explain but know it when I see it.

Da team.

I loved getting to meet some of Scott's teammates. While the players span all ages -- there are some teams that have fathers and sons that play together -- most of the members are Canadian and grew up with sport but are now in China for a variety of jobs. At the end of the tournament there was a banquet for the whole league, complete with burgers, beer and comaraderie.

Cold, but having fun!

I'm so happy Scott joined this league and still gets to play a sport he's loved ever since his dad taught him how to skate on outdoor ponds in Michigan. It was wonderful to know that pond hockey, wherever you are, can create some damn fun memories.

Thanksgiving in Thailand (I know, it's belated)

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Tue, 13 Jan 2015 04:58:00 +0000

As an early birthday present for Scott, and a much-needed vacation, we went to Thailand for six days at the end of November. We started out in Bangkok and then made our way to the island of Koh Lanta.

The beaches of Thailand. Can it be any prettier? I think not.

Bangkok surprised us. It was much cleaner than we expected and seemed small -- its population is six million -- compared to Beijing. We spent two days there, taking in the Chatuchak weekend market, which is a sprawling bazaar that has everything from used Converse shoes to clothing to artwork to local snacks. As good of a shopper as I am, even I was overwhelmed by it all.

Seen at Chatuchak. Scott wouldn't let me buy it for him.

After wandering the stalls at Chatuchak for a good four hours, we made our way to the traditional Thai home of Jim Thompson, the American expat who is credited with putting Thai silk on the map in the Western world. His home was stunning, with beautiful wood carvings, antiques from his travels around the world and even a turtle on premise, which decided it was time to pee right as Scott was trying to get a photo.

A giant, Thai version of paella in Bangkok.

Of course Bangkok is known for its sultry side, so we wandered around the brothel districts, which had lady boys, hundreds of prostitutes and dancers and a slew of old, white men. Despite the seedy activity, we didn't feel unsafe at all, and all of it was pretty tame in that everyone knew what was going on and nothing had to be underground. Scott and I grabbed drinks near Nana Plaza, which is sort of ground zero for adult entertainment in Bangkok and people watched. We enjoyed watching the women hone in on their targets and, minutes later, seeing them walk down the street with a old white dude.

It was interesting to see how the adult entertainment biz in Bangkok isn't looked down upon; curious, we looked up the history and found that the city became a hub for sex during the Vietnam War, when soldiers were looking for a little R&R.

After our city adventures, we flew to Krabi and then took a car to a speed boat to a truck to get to the remote island of Koh Lanta. The island isn't far from where The Beach was filmed, the 2000 Leonardo DiCaprio movie that put this area on the map. What makes it so unique is that it's hilly jungles than come down to the ocean, making for exquisite topography that's not what you typically see at the beach. Scott and I couldn't get over the gorgeous landscapes.

Kayaking off the coast of Koh Lanta.

Most of our days were filled with lying on the beach, kayaking and drinking coconut and mango smoothies. We got $15-hour-long massages on the beach, the ones like you see in the commercials -- the cabana right next to the ocean. We took a day trip to Koh Rok, an island with clear blue water and gorgeous sand to snorkel. We saw electric blue and neon green fish, striped blowfish and Anemo fish like the one in Finding Nemo. We also watched a fire show at a local bar called "Why Not" and ate the freshest fish and curry a little beach tikki hut built into the side of the mountain.

Whirling flames at Why Not Bar.

I'm so thankful we could take the trip and hope to get back there again someday.

On fire.

The Three-Week Tour

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Tue, 13 Jan 2015 01:20:00 +0000

I'm taking advantage of my jet lag to catch up on blogging. Scott and I just returned from a three-week tour of the U.S., going from Chicago to Detroit to Denver to New York. It was the longest stint we've had back in America since moving abroad.

It's things like this -- iPads for ordering and browsing the web, leading to no socialization whatsoever at meal time and waiters wanting tips for not doing anything -- that make me disillusioned with America.

I found myself experiencing a roller coaster of emotions while back in the states. One minute I adored being able to read all the labels in a grocery store and staying in sturdy and well built buildings. Minutes later, I'd be flustered, shocked by the price of a sub-par sandwich or a pint of beer, or from getting the stink eye from a New York subway rider when I accidentally bumped into her while exiting the train (in Beijing that's the norm).

I loved getting to catch up with friends and family, but also found the schedule taxing. Scott and I didn't have one night alone, always meeting someone for dinner or playing games with family. This was fabulous, don't get me wrong, but after 21 days straight it starts to get tiring. The biggest reprieve was skiing in Colorado, when we got to go to bed at 9 pm, exhausted from hitting the mountain hard.

I recently read this great blog post on where home is for an expat and found myself identifying with this question (albeit much less than this guy who has been a nomad for 30-plus years). Even though I remembered the streets of New York and easily found my way back to the brow-threading salon and jewelry cleaner, I felt like a visitor, not someone who lived there -- or even used to live there. The ease of getting around invigorated me, but it wasn't entirely as comforting as I expected. I kept finding myself wishing I could mesh together parts of the U.S. and Beijing -- the cheap restaurants of China with the cleanliness of America's bathrooms with the no-tipping tradition of Beijing with the health-food options of New York.

Same with conversations. I loved catching up with Kim and Casey on the ski slopes, sharing Mandarin words with Kristen and Laurie at a Lower East Side bar, and seeing Sam and Sarah's new home in Ann Arbor. But I found myself struggling to answer the "How's China?" question, unsure of what people wanted to know. One interaction that particularly amused me was with the dental assistant who asked how I was able to deal with "all the spitting" in China. I found it funny, considering she prods in people's mouths all day, unearthing food bits and salivia, and them watches people "rinse" (i.e. spit) all day long in her job.

Perhaps the visit was a touch long, but I'm glad we got to see so many people (even though we didn't get to catch up with everyone). One thing's for sure: we're not going on any trips any time soon!

The Land Down Under

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sat, 29 Nov 2014 10:21:00 +0000

The past four weeks have been nuts with travel to Australia, Hong Kong and Thailand, plus a slew of assignments, so I've been a VERY tardy blogger. I'm trying to play catch up now.

Hiking in Australia.

The month started off with a whirlwind work trip to Australia, which was incredible, but exhausting. I was hopping from place to place for interviews and having to drive on the opposite side of the road -- no small task when roundabouts are involved! I kept hitting the windshield wipers instead of the blinker, reaching for my seatbelt over my left shoulder instead of my right side and was honked at more times than I care to admit.

Off the coast of Australia.

Julian Rocks in background.

The trip began in a beautiful beach enclave south of Brisbane and then took me to the Victorian Alps to write about ski properties. (You can read the result of my alpine reporting here; the other story is forthcoming.) I did get to slip in a little down time, which resulted in taking a lovely hike to the most eastern tip of Australia -- like, literally the end of the world -- and got to see some kangaroos just hanging out in front of a someone's yard.

Views from Dinner Plain, an alpine village near Mt. Hotham ski resort.

An original cattleman's hut.

View from the drive to Falls Creek.

I ended up in Melbourne for some final interviews before jetting back to Beijing.

Hardware Lane in Melbourne, a cute alley with restaurants and shops.

Australia was incredible and I hope to get to go back for a proper vacation in the future. The amount of wide, open space and fresh air was amazing, as was the juicy steak, fresh fish and loads of healthy, organic food. The country seemed to be part hippie enclave, part European sophistication, part we-don't-give-a-damn. Everyone was extremely nice and I couldn't get over the fabulous accents -- or the boatloads of alcohol these folks consume. I was surprised half of them can even hold down jobs!

Local surfing competition.

Sunset.

A few highlights: hiking to the lighthouse along the hilly coastline, learning the history of cattlemen's huts, seeing kangaroos and shopping at a local flea market (where EVERYTHING was handmade/raw/made of bamboo/kale-centric/input your natural synonym here.

Gorgeous lighthouse

Pretty far east.

The low point: trying Vegemite. Apologies to folks who swear by it. I really don't get it.

Oh hey there ...

Roos!!

A week later, I was on a plane to Hong Kong for Fortune's Most Powerful Women International summit. I had been working on this conference since the spring, so it was a relief to finally see it happen. Some of the great speakers included Jennifer Li, the CFO of Baidu (China's equivalent of Google), Gina Qiao, the head of HR at Lenovo and Vicky Song, the first Chinese woman to circumnavigate the globe via the Clippers Race. Random, fun fact: our good friend Tom, who just left Beijing to move back to London, was on the same boat with her in the race! It really is a small world.

Pattie Sellers of Fortune interviewing Vicky Song at MPW in Hong Kong.

November ended with a much-needed vacation to Thailand ... which will be my next post!

When Leaders Come to Town, Beijing Puts on a Good Face

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sun, 09 Nov 2014 11:56:00 +0000

This week Beijing is hosting the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation, a big meeting of CEOs and world leaders. Obama is coming to town, Putin is on his way and John Kerry already has been here.

Beijing makes the skies turn blue for APEC.

Losing face is a huge no-no in Chinese tradition and many individuals will do anything to save face. And that's just what the Beijing government has done leading up to APEC.

For starters, many schools have been shut down and half the cars that normally are on the road have been restricted, with even and odd numbered license plates alternating days on the road. Construction has been halted, as have factories both in and around Beijing. Much of this is because the government wants blue skies for the world leaders to see sans pollution. On Chinese social media there even was talk of a new color called "APEC blue."

Other businesses, too, have been upping their game. The local DVD store that we usually go to for new movie releases has shifted the new, pirated DVDs to a local basement and is showing only old movies in its storefronts, in case some leader happens to walk by and wonder whether the DVD store is legit. And Scott saw workers repaving lines on the road at 4 a.m. one night. (He was up to watch a football game, naturally).

Subways are much more crowded than usual since half the cars aren't allowed to be on the road, so extra security has been added and people wait in line to enter the station sometimes. Even marriage licenses aren't being given this week, as many public workers have an under-the-radar holiday.

It's beautiful right now, a cool 50 degrees and sunny, blue skies. But it's all fake, a good looking face that the government is putting on. It reminds of stories of bosses visiting factories to make sure there child labor isn't occurring and on the day they're visiting, children just happen to not be working.

What's interesting is how quickly the government can mobilize and eradicate so much of China's pollution. Sure, it disrupts daily life -- no school, some people not working, not able to get around. And yet the second all the leaders and CEO depart the capital, all will be back to normal -- pollution, traffic jams, DVD stores hawking the latest U.S. movie.

I have mixed feelings of it all; sure, I'm loving the clear skies and air, but it's all window dressing. I just hope the leaders and CEOs who are in town realize what they're seeing isn't typical reality here.

Scott bought (a new) moped

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sun, 12 Oct 2014 12:00:00 +0000

About a month after we moved here last year, Scott bought a used moped from a French expat for pretty cheap. He convinced me that it was safe, with helmets, and that it would pay for itself in a matter of months because he'd use it every day to go to work and sometimes on the weekends.

On our new purchase (don't worry, the helmets just aren't pictured).

I admit, I've warmed up to it, and it's a great way for us to zip around the city amid snarling traffic. So when he told me he wanted to upgrade to a legit moped (read: not one where he was the third owner and it's busted up on one side and the brakes only sorta-kinda work) I didn't have a problem with it.

Hou Jinxia, our amazing translator/negotiator/savior.

To help us negotiate on price and ask the right questions, we asked our amazing Mandarin teacher, Hou Jinxia, to accompany us to the store. She seemed excited to help us; she had no clue what they cost and her father had told her never to ride on one, so this vehicle of sorts was a mystery to her.

Scott only wanted to buy a Yamaha, which has good safety records and includes a lithium battery, which is about five times lighter than his current 80-pound battery. The trick was finding an authorized Yamaha store, a more difficult task in a city known for its good fakes.

Love her.

So on a recent Sunday morning, the three of us ventured to Haidian, a neighborhood filled with universities and tech companies, on the west side of Beijing, where an authorized dealer set up shop. Scott quickly settled on the model he wanted, but negotiations stalled. We were able to get a 10% discount because of the holiday -- National Week -- but the shop owner wouldn't budge beyond that, something we hadn't experienced in awhile, considering our bargaining skills have improved.

Scott waits for his new bike.

Three hours later, we ended up paying the price the owner wanted and then had to wait for the mechanics to adjust the brakes, install the battery and let Scott ensure he was set. We finally zipped home on a brand new Yamaha, happy to be on a safer bike. Now I just hope Scott's locks are secure enough that we don't get the new thing stolen!

A happy man ready to ride.

The First Year

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Wed, 08 Oct 2014 10:54:00 +0000

A year ago today, Scott and I landed in Beijing on a sunny, polluted afternoon. I remember driving through the city, the drab buildings and Chinese billboards seeming completely alien. I feared I never would feel at home here and that all I'd be doing was missing New York for three, long years.

My very first pollution mask, circa Oct. 2013.

It's crazy now to think it's been a full year since we moved. I looked back at my first blog post, which I called "Lost in Beijing," and I smile thinking how much I've learned this past year.

This first year has really been characterized by growth. When we first arrived, we didn't know a lick of Mandarin and took the subway over taxis merely because it had English signs and we couldn't communicate with cab drivers. We feared for our lives when crossing the streets in snarling traffic -- we still do, but at least we're used to it now -- and didn't know where to find a good burger. Heck, we didn't even know where to find butter!

But as the weeks turned into months we started to learn and pick up on things. We learned how to buy train tickets, bargain for fruit at street stands and understand the intricate seating hierarchy at traditional Chinese banquet dinners.

Scott has developed an affinity for baijiu, the strong Chinese liquor that's coveted by businessmen, and enjoys weaving through traffic on his moped. I've taken to eating dragonfruit on a daily basis and getting monthly cheap, but heavenly massages. We've loved getting to learn the language, hire a housekeeper to do the cleaning, and wander the traditional Beijing neighborhoods, or hutongs.

Scott learning to write his name in Chinese calligraphy.

Our vacations and work trips have become so interesting, taking us to Chinese cities such as Dalian, Kunming, Shanghai and Guangzhou, and also to Vietnam, Nepal and Singapore. Later on this year, we'll spend Thanksgiving in Thailand.

The year also presented many challenges, from learning the language, to testing our relationship, to figuring out the intricacies of Chinese culture. While we still have a slew to learn in all these categories, we're on the right path.

Personally, I've gone from not working and feeling paralyzed, unsure of my purpose here, to being ridiculously busy with freelance opportunities, often working late into the night (don't worry, this is something I'm enjoying a lot). I've learned to be a little more patient -- a trait I don't think I'll ever really master -- and realize that good things take time to materialize. I've changed my attitude about living here, going from counting the days until we move back to the U.S., to now worrying we won't have enough time over here to really explore everything.

What started out as a pretty terrifying experience has turned into something I'm grateful for. I've learned so much about myself and how I operate and react to adversity. I've also realized for all my fear and worry, I'm pretty adaptable, even if it means I whine and moan about something before finally embracing it.

One of our many adventures: In Tianjin on a lovely day trip.

While we still have so much to learn about Beijing and China, and while we're nowhere near being fluent in Mandarin, I look forward to the opportunities this second year will provide us. Most of all, I need to thank Scott. If it weren't for him stepping up and asking to take on this role, we wouldn't be here. Much love to him for leading us on this wonderful, life-changing adventure.

Rosh Hashanah in Beijing

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sun, 28 Sep 2014 11:09:00 +0000

Wednesday marked the beginning of Rosh Hashanah and I figured I needed to find a place to celebrate the Jewish New Year because I had skipped the past two years: last year we were in the frenzy of getting ready to move to China, and the year before I was days away from getting married. My Jewish guilt was officially sinking in.

Thanks to a colleague here in Beijing, my search didn't take long. I found Kehillat Beijing, an amazing Jewish organization that puts together everything from Shabbat dinners to bike rides around the city. (My favorite thing is their URL: www.sinogogue.org).

On the eve of Rosh Hashanah, I arrived at a banquet hall that was outfitted to be a synagogue -- complete with a black lacquered Chinese armoire serving as the Ark (where the Torah is held). I was smitten.

The room was packed with Americans, Europeans, South Americans and Asians. I was surprised by the diversity -- my Nashville version of Jewish services usually involved white women donning pearls and too much perfume -- and it reminded me of the Yom Kippur I spent in Paris, with one of my aunt's friends. Despite different languages, the melodies and prayers all sounded the same in Beijing and in Nashville and in Paris. There was something quite comforting about this universal call of worship.

But the coolest part of the evening was meeting the woman sitting next to me, a Chinese citizen named Esther. She is from a city east of Beijing called Tianjin and she's been coming to Kehillat events for the past six months. Raised a Christian, she visited Israel last year and was fascinated by Judaism, a religion she never had the opportunity to learn about growing up in China. She told me it felt like a better fit for her -- more laid back and flexible than Christianity. She felt she could practice her way and didn't have to spread it to others.

I was fascinated by Esther. I had never met a Chinese Jew before, much less any religious Chinese so far. She told me how she's learning to read Hebrew and how she comes to services every Friday night. When I asked if she wanted to convert, she looked at me sadly and told me she can't. In China, Judaism is not recognized as a religion and it's against the law to convert. She said she'll have to go to Hong Kong if she decides to go that route.

After the service, which was led by a Rabbi who had flown in from New Mexico, Esther and I exchanged business cards. I asked her if I'd see her for Yom Kippur next week and she told me she was purposely delaying the national holiday here to stay for services. I was shocked.

Let me put this in context: Oct. 1 through Oct. 7 is National Week, when the entire country shuts down and travels, spending time with family and taking a much-needed break from work. So for Esther to not go home until Oct. 4, once Yom Kippur is over, is sort of like someone in the U.S. working on the Fourth of July.

I understood why she delayed her trip, though, when she told me her parents don't know about her interest in Judaism. "They'd kill me if they ever found out," she said.

Her comment struck me for a variety of reasons. For one, Esther's choice is another example of a Chinese young adult branching out, but still being held back by societal norms. Her choice also made me excited, knowing that she is trying to find her own ways, as hard as it may be.

Her story is a great reminder of how we can grow and evolve and choose our own paths. For those celebrating, L'Shana Tova. May the new year bring happiness and health.

The Expat (Work) Hours

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Fri, 19 Sep 2014 12:50:00 +0000

It's a Friday night here in Beijing. In New York, I would've been relaxing at home on the couch or out grabbing drinks with some friends. Right now, I'm working and Scott is conducting an interview. Did I mention it's almost 9 pm?

It's not uncommon for Scott and me to work until midnight most weekday nights. That's because right as we're about to wind down, the U.S. is ramping up its day, meaning phone calls with editors or changes to stories start coming in around 9:30 pm our time and usually don't stop until 12 am -- and often later.

Last Friday, for example, I had a story running the next day in the Wall Street Journal. My colleague and I thought we had finished answering questions from the Asia editors around 9 pm. But that's when the fun began, because the story was shipped to New York. Around 1 am, we again thought we were done. I crawled into bed and then my cell phone rang 30 minutes later. It was the reporter in Shanghai who I had worked with, frantically saying New York needed an answer on something ASAP. I got out of bed and found myself sitting in front of my computer, sleepily reading updated versions of our story until 3 am when New York signed off on it.

When I tell people this is typical, they're astonished. But the U.S. really does run on its own time and frankly doesn't care what time it is in other parts of the world. There are exceptions, of course; one of my editors in New York who used to work in Greece is fabulous about getting into the office early to edit my stories. She's mindful of the time change because she's been in my position before.

Other reporters and editors here in China have similar war stories. Sometimes it feels like we sleep with one eye open and I'm guilty of getting up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and checking my phone to make sure there aren't any urgent e-mails that have come through. I know it's horrible for my sleeping patterns and already I wake up late with this new schedule (see below). But I'm not sure there is any other way to deal with it.

I now see why some people only spend three or four years living abroad. The work hours are simply brutal. Just to give an example, here's what's become a typical day for me:

9 a.m. -- wake up (yes, I know that seems late, but wait and see why)
10 a.m. to 5 p.m. -- work
5 p.m. to 7 p.m. -- Chinese class
7 p.m. -- gym, some days, if I'm lucky
8:30 p.m. -- gobble down some dinner
9 p.m. -- conference call
10 p.m. -- interviewing someone in the U.S.
10:30 p.m. -- waiting for edits on a story/another conference call
12 a.m./1 a.m. -- crawl into bed

I have been known to be a workaholic every once in awhile, but this schedule takes loving work to a whole different level. The only thing I tell myself is that it'll prep me for being a mom someday! Well, and that whenever we move back, I'll probably never complain again about working late.

A Jaunt to Taipei

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sun, 07 Sep 2014 04:56:00 +0000

Last week, I flew to Taiwan to do a story for The Wall Street Journal. I had some extra time and spent a day in Taipei, the bustling, beautiful capital of Taiwan.

The must-see National Palace Museum in Taipei.

Taiwan is so diverse, a narrow island with mountains in the middle and coastal cities around it. A friend told us it's one of the rare places where you can be on the beach and in Alp-like mountains in the same day.

And I found Taipei is like China, but without the downsides. People are friendly, the streets are clean, individuals line up for the subway and throw trash away. It really made me stop and think what Beijing could be like, if the Communist Party didn't rule and if the Nationalists had come to power. There's something to be said about giving people a bit more freedom and seeing how that translates into a productive, healthy society.

A perfect queue in the Taipei subway.

Glorious mountains from National Palace Museum outlook.

The do-not-miss attraction in Taipei, of course, is the National Palace Museum, which houses the biggest collection of Chinese art and artifacts in the world. My friend Tom told me that when the Nationalists fled to Taiwan, they sent almost 3,000 containers full of art and artifacts from the port in Nanjing, China to Taiwan. As such, this museum houses furniture, jewelry, rare documents, jade, calligraphy and more from the neolithic period through the Ming and Qing dynasties.

Go here for Chinese Art 101.

Overlooking the Palace Museum gardens.

I spent nearly four hours in the museum, fascinated by the history and explanations of art in China. I adored by art history classes in high school, but Western schooling truly lacks an education when it comes to Eastern art. I never knew why jade was so important to Chinese culture, the art of picking the right hair for calligraphy brushes and why snuff bottles were delicate and finely decorated until visiting this museum. It was Chinese art 101 and I was enthralled.

Corn dogs galore at the night market.

A 7-year-old girl's heaven. Hello Kitty everywhere to win at the Shilin night market.

After the museum, I made my way to Shilin, the mother of all night markets, which are extremely popular in Taiwan. These markets are a mix of a town carnival, food carts and flea markets all rolled into one. I found myself overwhelmed by the choices of food -- from sausage to waffles shaped like penises (you've NEVER see that in China) to frog eggs -- and the sheer quantities of stuff for sale. T-shirts, gym shorts, baby bibs, iPhone cases, local Taiwanese snacks, hats and lingerie. Rounding the corner, there then would be a random station for dog grooming, next to some dresses for sale.

Sausage, anyone?

Hen and gun shaped waffles. The kid next to me wanted the motorcycle one.

After wandering around Shilin for about two hours, I made my way back to the area where I was staying and stopped at a smaller night market, which just had food. I slurped down a delicious bowl of stir-fried rice noodles with squid, sipped some oolong tea and then called it a night.

Of course they have dog grooming.

Penis-shaped waffles, anyone?

While I definitely didn't spend enough time here, I got a great sense of the place and look forward to coming back with Scott for a vacation.

Coming Home

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sun, 17 Aug 2014 01:07:00 +0000

After a wonderful week in the U.S., I made my way back to Beijing, via a 26-hour journey. When I landed, my legs and feet felt and looked like they belonged to an elephant, and I found myself having mixed emotions. I was ready to get back to Beijing, but I didn't want to leave the land of ease: of English menus and signs, of being able to chit chat with the CVS pharmacy clerk, of swiping my credit card instead of needing cash.

I also realized how much I miss my family. Getting to spend so much time with them made me feel whole again. As great as Skype sessions and Google hangouts are, you can't get the clarity and empathy from them that you get with face-to-face conversations. Mishaps and silly antics come up that form inside jokes, in a way that will be talked about for years down the line. Even when my relatives annoyed the heck out of me -- like when my mom wanted me to try on one more freakin' dress at TJ Maxx -- I felt much more tolerance to annoying family moments that I haven't felt in years. It wasn't that I saw my family any more when I lived in New York; but something about being so far away made me cherish the time I have with them. I didn't want to spend it snapping at my mom or arguing with my sister. I just wanted to be in their presence and soak up their personalities, warts and all.

It's easy to feel lonely and have a bit of a let down after looking forward to a trip back to America. I had been talking about and preparing for this trip for a long time. But I also felt a renewed excitement of getting back to Beijing. I know we won't live here forever, and time is ticking so we should explore as much of China and Asia as possible while we can.

When the taxi pulled up to our apartment building in Beijing, Scott was waiting for me outside. I was excited to see him, to see the cats, to eat Chinese food. I actually was craving it. I wanted to dip dumplings in soy sauce and vinegar and slurp cold noodles.

I needed the family time and support I got from seeing my parents, siblings, cousins, grandma and aunts and uncles. I needed to vent about difficulties here, but also tell them about the excitement of living abroad. Having these connections made me think about moving closer to family once we do move back to the U.S. Family can be annoying and obnoxious, but they're the strong fabric that keeps us going and levels us when we feel lost.

Yesterday, I went to run errands and felt happy when I walked to the little store near our home to buy Southeastern Asian fruits. I maneuvered through the dense crowds on the streets in Sanlitun later that afternoon and took a moment to enjoy the wind that cooled me down while riding on Scott's moped.

Right now, though some days are hard, Beijing is home. And I'm happy to be here.

Reverse Culture Shock

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sun, 17 Aug 2014 00:30:00 +0000

Thanks to my generous parents, I was able to fly back to the U.S. last week for a family reunion. I was excited, but also nervous to go back to the states; it's been 10 months since we moved to Beijing and I didn't know what to expect on my first trip back.

When I landed in Chicago and stepped outside, the first thing I noticed was the air. It was so clean and fresh, with clouds and blue skies. The second thing I noticed: outrageous food prices. A banana cost nearly $1 (I pay that same amount for three of them in Beijing) and a bottle of water was $2 (typically $0.30 in China).

'Merica: Blue skies, clean air and turquoise water. Yes, please.

After 48 hours of some major shopping in Nashville, my family drove to Rosemary Beach, Fla., to meet up with my aunts, uncles and grandmother. I wanted my arrival to be a surprise to the extended family, but thanks to the loud mouths of my mom and sister, the surprise wasn't really a surprise, except to my 90-year-old grandmother. She came out and tears filled her eyes, as she saw me there and realized I'd traveled all the way from China to see her. It was a beautiful moment.

Grandma, 90 years young, surprised when I showed up in Florida.

Throughout the week, I found some people to be really loud and obnoxious. I think part of it was because I could actually understand snippets of their conversations. My friend Brittany had mentioned this observation during her recent trip back to the U.S.: there's something blissful about not understanding people's conversations when walking by them here in China. It was jarring to overhear a woman talking about her latest hair dye job and a man lamenting about his A/C bill.

Gotta practice my driving when I can: Behind the wheel of my brother-in-law's giant truck.

It was also strange seeing signs all in English and wide, open spaces. I couldn't help but think how the Chinese would stack apartments upon apartments in areas that were people's front yards. Walking down the street and not bumping into people was refreshing, as were the cars that actually stopped for you as you crossed the road.

At the same time, some people seemed arrogant. One day at the beach, a couple made the umbrella attendant set up a slew of chairs, only to later move because they weren't close enough to their friends. Another day I got into an argument with a guy at a gas station who claimed I'd banged into his car with my car door. I hadn't, only tapping it slightly because of tight parking spaces. The man proceeded to take a picture of my license plate and hauntingly told me his insurance company would take it up with me. When I asked to see what damage I had caused he pointed to a paint chip about the size of an ant. For all I know, the minuscule chip could've been there before our encounter.

Cousin love.

At the end of my week in the U.S., I realized there are pros and cons to every place. Below, a few of the key differences I observed on my first trip back.

Where the U.S. shines:

1. Clean air. My lungs felt fresh again.
2. Natural foods. Kale, almond milk, Kind bars. I was in heaven.
3. Attentive drivers. Crossing at a crosswalk and cars waiting? Wow!
4. Greenery. It's everywhere and it's beautiful.
5. Meat. Choice cuts, no sinewy strands that make flossing an all-out affair.
6. Desserts. Nothing can beat chocolate fondue or a toffee chocolate gooey brownie with ice cream on top.

Where China wins:

1. Courteous and friendly flight attendants. The U.S. ones seemed brash and careless compared to Asian service.
2. Food prices and no tipping. Spent $32 on lunch with my mom, and then had to tip. In China, I would've gotten a similar lunch for at least half that price.
3. Movies. Even new releases can be bought for about $2 at DVD stores. The price of a movie ticket in Florida: $10.
4. Chopsticks. I've really grown fond of them and in some instances, they're much more useful than a fork and knife.
5. Cheap taxis. Grand total to get back to my home from the airport: $15. That's less than a one-way bus ticket from Chicago Midway to O'Hare.
6. Bargaining. Oh, I can't wrangle with you over the price of that shirt? Dang.

Day Trip to Tianjin

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sat, 19 Jul 2014 04:38:00 +0000

Located about 135 kilometers southeast of Beijing, Tianjin is often thought of as the capital's sister city. When Scott told a colleague we were visiting there, he was told we'd like it, because "white people like that city."

Things white people like in Tianjin: A house made out of recycled pottery.

I didn't understood what that meant until we got to the city, which is clean, less crowded and full of beautiful European architecture. So I guess we lived up to the stereotype.

No crowds, some old-school architecture.

We went with our friends, Te-Ping and Ben, via one of China's high speed trains. It only took us 30 minutes traveling around 285 kilometers per hour to get there and the ride was incredibly smooth. Upon arriving, we ate gou bu li bao zi for lunch, a well-known Tianjin steamed bun brand that's served the likes of Chinese premieres and presidents. The buns didn't disappoint, with a steamy pork inside and fluffy outside. The soy milk, on the other hand, did. After asking for a glass of it several times, the server came out with a $10 pitcher which tasted like burnt soybeans.

Me trying to look like the ancient egg gou bu li bao zi here. Scott said I just looked sad.

After lunch, we strolled along the streets of Tianjin -- which were surprisingly empty, a rare find in the Middle Kingdom -- and marveled at the classical architecture mixed in with buildings that looked eerily like Manhattan's well-known structures. (Tianjin has apparently been trying to build a replica Manhattan for several years now, but its hit trouble with a lack of tenants).

Tianjin's attempt at the Big Apple's Rock Center.

Doesn't look like China, huh?

Along the way we found some curious driving signs -- i.e. you shouldn't laugh while driving -- and fresh grapes cascading over homes.

Rough translation: Don't laugh while driving.

Tianjin grapes.

Here's a look at the rest of our day's adventure. We tried mahua, a twisted crunchy dough snack that's famous in Tianjin, and a shrimp paste, which Scott and Ben downed with baijiu. We rounded out the day with a stroll along the river as the sun was setting. How quaint (and white people-ish).

These are the pothole covers in Tianjin. No, really.

The Tianjin Eye, a slow ferris wheel that juts down between a highway.

On the gao tie, or high-speed train after a long, but fun day.

Kunming, the City of Eternal Spring

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Sat, 19 Jul 2014 04:27:00 +0000

We recently visited Kunming, which is the capital of the Yunnan province, in southwest China. The area is known for its dozens of minorities, who dress in colorful garb, and for its fabulous food, which doesn't taste anything like traditional Chinese -- think fresh mint leaf salads, dried beef with chilies and a lightly fried goat milk cheese called rubing.

Outside of Kunming, Shilin (Stone Forest)

Scott and I spent part of a day touring Shilin, or "Stone Forest," where hundreds of stones twist and contort in beautiful formations. The area has been around since the Ming Dynasty and parts of it were deemed a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2007.

Rocks of ages.

Being a Saturday, the Chinese tourists were out in style and we often found ourselves waiting as they ambled along the path and took 10 photos for every one we snapped. We could tell tourism is still a bit of a new thing here in China, as many women donned heels and dresses, which aren't the best outfits for clambering around rocks.

A Chinese tourist strikes his pose.

Later that day, we found a bakery to buy fresh xiang hua bing, or flower cakes, which are a local delicacy made out of rose petals. One local told Scott, "Instead of giving our girlfriends flowers we eat them." The cakes are flaky, like a croissant on the outside and have a rose-petal jam on the inside that's not too sweet. The pastries-as-souvenirs are a recent development in Yunnan, as most people just ate them as snacks and desserts. Only now have they decided to capitalize on them.

Ads for Yunnan's flower pastries.

Dried beef, spicy lotus root, Yunnanese ham and rubing. YUM.

We ended our weekend jaunt with a walk around Cuihu Park one of the best parks in Kunming, where the public really gives a whole new meaning to public park. Amid paddle boats, large lotus flowers and snack stalls, multiple dance groups competed for onlookers' attention. There were two groups demonstrating traditional Yunnanese dancing (which looked like a cross between the Hora and River Dance), another group busting moves to Michael Jackson, another group dancing like robots and more. There were musicians strumming guitars and playing violins and even dwarfs from the local Kingdom for the Little People out for a jam. (You can read more about this controversial "theme" park here; we opted not to go, as it didn't seem right.)

Part of a giant circle of Yunnanese dancing in the park.

The only wrinkle in our weekend was getting back: torrential rains delayed our flight and we ended up having to spend another night and fly back to Beijing early the next morning. All in all, not too bad.

Amid the lotus-covered pools in Cuihu Park.

Our New Nephew

noreply@blogger.com (Alyssa) — Mon, 07 Jul 2014 14:55:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, Scott's sister Courtney gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Shaw. He weighed 5 pounds 11 ounces and was a whopping 22 inches long!

Welcome little Shaw!

This is our first time being an aunt and uncle and we're so excited! But being so far away is really hard. While other family members are flying in to Chicago to meet Shaw, we won't get to meet him in person until he's about six months old. I realize there are events like this that we'll miss, but it's difficult not to feel a bit out of the loop, particularly when it's such a big, joyous occasion. At least we got to see these great photos, courtesy of Scott's dad.

Mama and son.

And thank goodness for Skype. We were able to see him and talk with the proud, new parents, who looked happy but tired.

The new family.

I couldn't resist waiting to buy some baby clothing, of course, so I found an adorable little Chinese PJ set in a traditional fashion. I just hope it fits Shaw when we get to meet him. The abundance of children's clothing here at the various markets is going to be great for dressing this kid up. I plan to spoil the heck out of him with gifts from here (cue Scott to roll his eyes).

Don't worry, I didn't get him this outfit, but come on, that's pretty darn cute.

The best part is we've got Courtney already calling us shu-shu and ayi -- Mandarin for uncle and aunt!

Cutest baby ever.