Monthly Archives: April 2011

sunshine

sunshine. clear skies.

The past few days have replenished my vitamin D in ways I assumed impossible in this valley of clouds and smog. Chengdu has been hit with a gorgeous weather weave – the temperature shot from 50′s to high 70′s overnight; it’s warm, breezy, and the sun has been shining since Friday.  All transitional seasonal clothing items have become moot, and shorts and sunglasses are officially required.

The past 2 weeks I’ve actually become busy, a condition which demonstrates the weird ways things works out if you just keep putting in the time. After 8 months of avoiding teaching English for a school or company (chaos, unreliable, crap money, bad schedule), I acquired 2 very different private students within a period of 24 hours. A day later, my  yoga teacher asked me if I would start teaching her and her friend once a week after class. And so, suddenly, I’m tutoring 8 hours a week and making surprisingly decent money doing so.  I can not say that I LOVE spending an hour trying to get a 6 year old who has never heard the word “no” to focus, but my other students are really interesting, and I always find conversation with them to be mutually informative. And as a little pressure tends to do, having more on my plate is making more more productive in my free time. Yay.

Time is flying, and I go home June 1 for a 6ish week reunion with all things America. As it approaches,  I’m forced to reflect on exactly what’s happened in the past 8 months. The easy answer is a lot; the tougher answer is identifying what I have to show for 8 months of mostly unemployed wanderlusting. While I attempt to figure it all out,  I am going to soak up this sunshine and what time I have left with many of my friends here who are on the verge of their own exits. This weekend is the Zebra Music Festival – touted as the best event of the year in Chengdu. Next weekend is a gigantic hash event where a large contingent of Suzhou (and Hong Kong) hashers fly into Chengdu which will inevitably turn into complete, liver-damaging madness. And then BAM – I’m two weeks away from clean(er) air, streets free of baby pee, the convenience of a CVS pharmacy, an endless selection of cheese, real coffee, bakeries, bagels, i could go on….

Because it’s been a while – below are some photographic highlights of the past month or so.

taxis run on natural gas ... the lines are epically long.

my new friend carrie's ADORABLE munchkin, christine.

stir fried beef .... with dragonfruit.

fulbrighters + connecticutians

... the hash.

cafe mosaico

On Thursday we had the chance to try out Chengdu’s newest western restaurant – Cafe Mosaico. There are a couple”Italian” eateries in this city, some of which I’ve tried and the rest of which I’ve heard were awful before I went ahead and wasted my kuai on them. At the beginning of last week, Jeff told me there was a new option in town – an actual Italian restaurant complete with an actually Italian chef who spent time cooking in NYC and elsewhere. I was intrigued.

Arriving at the restaurant felt a bit like a time warp because the entrance is located on East Tongzilin, a road I frequent but somehow had never noticed it’s newest arrival. The exterior is as inviting as the interior is lavish, yet comfortable. The owner is a worldly Chinese guy whose “day job” is tiles – his tiles have outfitted some of the world’s nicest hotels. He described opening  a restaurant, Italian specifically, as his “hobby.” To authenticate said hobby he hired an Italian chef from Modena, Italy and created an interior ambience resonant of a fancy European lounge, complete with small dining rooms aptly titled “Roma,” “Milano,” etc etc. Our good impression didn’t stop with the decoration. Overwhelmed by the fact that every dish on the menu looked appealing, our host asked the chef if he would make our decisions for us, which turned into a deliciously drawn-out tasting menu. Retrospectively I realize this method prevented us from ever noting the average portion-size, as all our courses were passed out tapas-style. I prefer this elongated, European way of eating but given Mosaico’s prices it would be useful to know the actual portion size of an 110 RMB pasta dish (roughly $16 – not bad by American standards, quite spendy on this side of the world). Regardless, the Chef did impress me, which I consider relatively hard to do as my life has been blessed with some pretty incredible, varied, and authentic Italian food – from Italy to NYC to DC and ETC. I’ve been doubly blessed with a dad who can cook Italian food better than most, or at least many. So – Mosaico’s food was a pleasant surprise, although I am willing to concede that 8 months away from this type of fare probably worked in it’s favor.

tortelloniii

We started with a plate of really good prosciutto and melon, followed by the pan-seared scallops doused in an orange juice reduction. The scallops were tiny but tasty, and the reduction was a fantastic compliment. I let the chef know I was seriously after homemade pasta, which he obliged for the next two courses. First, a duo of homemade tortellinis – one stuffed with roast pumpkin, parmigiano, and nutmeg (YUM) and the other stuffed with ricotta and spinach, topped with walnuts in a balsamic cream sauce. The contrasting flavors on opposite sides of the same plate was definitely one of the highlights of the meal.  Next came beef ravioli smothered in a tangy wild mushroom sauce with a blue taro potato puree. Our main course was seared, sesame covered Tuna. Jeff found his piece to be a little overcooked, but mine was perfect. For desert – Tirimasu; again, completely made from scratch. Not to mention this whole affair was accompanied by multiple bottles of wine, and I got to appreciate the food and wine with not one but two charming financial consultants.

seared tuna mignon...yes please.

At only two weeks old the place was relatively empty, which I assume is due to the double whammy of high prices and lack of awareness amongst ex-pats, yet. In time I can see Mosaico gaining in popularity for both foreigners and Chinese alike, as it provides the unique, private, *expensive* setting that fancy Sichuan restaurants offer and so far no Western restaurants (outside of 5 star hotels) have managed to create. I was also assured by the owner that he is in no rush for Mosaico to fill up – he was completely confident that the quality of the food will speak for itself, as people slowly give it a try. I’m not sure when we’ll get the chance to return (as I’m only 40 days away from NYC Italian) but in the meantime I will positively recommend – the prices are worth the experience and the food quality; our meal there was memorable and much appreciated.

time

Since we arrived in China 8 months ago, it became obvious that the structure of time is one of the most blatant differences between our lives pre-China and life now. It’s hard to explain my point without a story about one of our first Sundays in Chengdu.

living on chengdu-time.

Jeff and I made plans for an “interview” with a recruiter looking to place foreign English teachers after meeting him on campus. Before the appointed day we told “David” our parameters: we were hoping to work weekdays and we wanted to work at a school within 3rd ring road (Chengdu is a sprawling city; what’s considered the center of the city is within the first ring,  by the time you get beyond the third ring you’re talking at least an hours worth of traffic). We also told him that we were free for 2 hours on Sunday afternoon, and had plans at 5 o’clock. David picked us up at 1 p.m. and from the moment we jumped on the highway (bad sign), we realized we may as well have been kidnapped (not to be confused with another similar story where I was alone and really did think I was being kidnapped). Completely disregarding anything we had said – but in  the most apologetic and upbeat way – David proceeded to drive us over an hour outside of the city to an English school built within a construction site where they wanted foreign teachers to come once a week for an hour, making it completely not worth the journey. To add insult to injury, he proceeded to thrust me in front of a class of 30 4-year-olds and told me to hold a demo class, right then,  with no preparation or advanced notice. It was awkward.By the time we got back in the car we were both obviously annoyed, but somehow David managed to once again ignore our request to be taken home and drove us another hour to a public school where he promised good hours and good money. Unfortunately, the principal had taken the afternoon off so we waited in a conference room beneath portraits of Marx, Lenin, Stalin, and Mao for the interview that would never occur. By the time we left the public school it was after 5 o’clock, 4 hours after he had picked us up and 2 hours past the time we thought we’d be dropped off.

The afternoon became a joke until we realized that what David did wasn’t particularly abnormal in social or business culture. Sure, his tactics were a little extreme, but since that day we’ve both been in countless situation with Chinese friends, acquaintances, potential employers where time has just elapsed, and whatever other plans we said we had, no matter the excuse, were disregarded.

On the one hand it highlights a very American concept of time – we are used to planning our days and booking ourselves up; scheduling a meeting with one person followed by drinks with another and dinner with someone else. It all fits, because no one expects you tospend your entire afternoon or evening doing something – everyone assumes everyone has plans, other social or professional obligations. Maybe we should stop overbooking ourselves and ditching one person for the next, cramming as much into 24 hours as possible.On the other hand it’s just annoying to lose control of your afternoon, or entire day, because you committed to a cup of coffee or an interview. I’m getting better at anticipating Chinese timing, which helps me not get so annoyed when it happens.

This past Saturday we planned to have dinner with Jenny and Hang and Jenny’s boss at 5 p.m. They had a young kid so we were expecting an early affair. Our friends were going to see a Mongolian band play at Little Bar at 8, which I told Jenny we wanted to go to before we even arrived at dinner. By 7 o’clock I tried to subtly check in with Jenny; to gauge how much more bai jiu we were going to have to drink and how much longer we’d be picking at what was left on the lazy susan of Sichuan dishes. Like clockwork, her boss (a big deal kind of guy) informed the table he had just booked the biggest room at his favorite KTV spot. “Clara, I think maybe you can go to the concert some other time,” was Jenny’s apologetic way of saying “This is my boss, neither of us have a choice. It’s time to sing some Lady Gaga.”

Sometimes Chinese time is not on my side – like our memorable Sunday afternoon with David. Other times it surprises me. We missed a great concert Saturday night, but if we’d gone we would’ve missed out on a pretty amusing KTV experience. It’s easy to say Chinese time drives me crazy but, like many cultural contrasts, it has both entertainment value and instructive life lesson: stop thinking time is something to control; just relax and let the night unfold.

moment of the day

I often arrive home in the early evening cursing myself for once again testing just how much I can fit on my bicycle between my basket and my body (although this is China, and today I saw a man with two women clutching his back and a 2 year old between his knees). Regardless, when I’m weighed down with a bottle of wine, bushel of vegetables, a backpack of schoolbooks, and a grocery bag of canned beans I’m usually not in the greatest of moods.  But every time I pull into the garage, our lovely and diligent bike keeper changes my mood.  She has an eternal smile on her face and always asks me what I’m carrying and where I’ve been, despite the fact that I am rarely able to articulate a proper answer. Lately, when I bring home vegetables she comes over to my bike and goes through each vegetable with me, having me repeat the names in Chinese. Today, when I pulled out a fat, bright orange carrot she asked me how to say the name in English. I said it slowly: “care-OT;” she started repeating over and over “care-us! care-us!” while simultaneously erupting into giggles at the sound of her own voice. It was the biggest smile I’d seen all day, and I’ve never seen a carrot make someone so excited. I left her there laughing, and even as the elevator doors were closing behind me I heard her hollering – to her husband, to exiting and arriving residents – “care-us! care-us!!!!”

highlights

we fit quite a bit into 8 days. some highlights:

giant buddha, leshan.

Giant Buddha, Leshan – I finally paid a visit to the stoic, giant Buddha with my mom and brother after months of being told it was well worth the trip. The “Big Buddha” at Leshan is the largest Buddha in the world, and sits at the confluence of the Min, Qingyi, and Dadu rivers, where back in the day tempestuous waters caused frequent boat accidents that the people blamed on a water spirit beneath the waves.  The Buddha was thought to tame the spirit and protect the boats and was completed in 803 AD after 90 years of unimaginable effort. It’s now a UNESCO World Heritage Site and it’s incredible to stare up at, which validates the excess of tourists you’ll encounter there no matter when you go. To see the Buddha you start at the top and navigate your way down a steep, narrow staircase built into the cliff that doesn’t deter the Chinese habit of pushing / generally ignoring personal space. This was more obvious than usual because we were escorting my mom who a) hates heights and b) isn’t used to Chinese tourists. My friend Bev graciously guided us on our Big Buddha tour and after hiking back up led us to a much quieter, less popular temple that is connected to the Big Buddha park by the most picturesque bridge, set atop fields of bright yellow rapeseed and a river on whose banks elderly Chinese men fished; a pretty idyllic site. Hiking up to Wuyou was also amazing and clearly an oft-ignored part of the tourist trip to the Buddha. At the top of the otherwise ordinary forest, the temple is an incredible display of the Buddhist heritage of the region. If it wasn’t partially under construction when we visited (surprise!) I would probably call it the most peaceful place I’ve seen in China.

sichuan opera.

Sichuan Opera – My mom and brother told me in advance they wanted to check out a performance before they arrived, and a friend told me friends of hers booked discounted tickets through a popular hostel in Chengdu, Sim’s, who not only booked us seats but also picked us up and dropped us off at our hotel. Convenient. The opera itself was a trip; foolishly I didn’t anticipate that choosing the more authentic teahouse experience would mean the venue was completely outdoors and we were unprepared. It was freezing. But, the staff offered complimentary “overcoats” to stay warm and kept refilling our teacups. The performance was very cool, even if an obvious tourist trap.  It was basically a variety show showcasing the traditional acts of Sichuan Opera – there was singing, Erhu-playing, hand-puppet-play, shadow play, a hen-pecked husband skit, and of course the famous face changing. The show lasted exactly 1.5 hours and was hosted by a Chinese lady whose voice and English “translations” were a show in their own right. Overall we were pleased and it was a worth-while activity if you’re visiting Sichuan  and want a glimpse at a form of entertainment that has been around for centuries (and don’t mind that the authenticity has been inevitability compromised in the process).

home-cooked sichuan... + bai jiu

Dinner at my friend Jenny’s parents apartment – OK, you need a Chinese friend to re-create this experience but it was the highlight of the trip, meal-wise. Jenny is a close friend of ours and Jeff and I have had the privelage of eating at her parents apartment once before; they speak no English but are unbelievably sweet, hospitable, and thrilled to host foreigners. Her mom insisted on cooking a dinner for my mom and brother, fully taking into consideration the fact that my brother is a vegetarian, and the evening turned into a hilarious and delicious event – and rose to the level of epic when my brother happily threw back a bottle of bai jiu with Jeff and Jenny’s dad (I’ve never seen my brother take a shot of anything in his life). The food was better than anything you can order in a restaurant and it was so unique for my family to get to experience a Chinese family dinner. They also realized I’m not lying when I say people in Chengdu do not turn on their heaters, even in the wintertime.

the hash.

 

The Hash – Equal parts inappropriate banter and beautiful countryside, the Hash ended up being a great way to spend our Sunday despite my initial reservations about bringing mom along. I was punished for doing so, and I never thought I’d see my mom attempt to chug beer out of a piss pot, but it all happened. My brother was beyond amused at the level of adolescent humor encouraged at the Hash and we all enjoyed the scenic village, despite the fact that the Hash crew was missing several of it’s usual characters.

feisty panda cubs.

Panda Base – The general advice on this tourist-staple is to go first thing in the morning to catch the pandas before they sleep the day away. However, this is the second time I’ve ignored this advice and been pleasantly surprised. The highlight of the day was encountering a discovery channel crew filming the panda cubs who you usually only get to see behind glass in their nursery. For the filming all the cubs were out in the grass, climbing all over their handlers and the cameramen who looked as thrilled as I would be to have a baby panda climbing through my legs or even biting my bum, like the lucky handler above.

dufu.

Dufu’s Cottage – Another Chengdu site I’d yet to see, Dufu’s Thatched Cottage is a monument to the famous 8th century poet who is said to have experienced his most creative and prolific writing period during his 4 year stay in Chengdu after being exiled from Gansu Province. The grounds surrounding his cottage are scenic and peaceful, and the greater Huanhuaxi Park right beside Dufu’s former digs also makes for a nice walk. Just don’t get confused and think they are the same and spend 2 hours winding your way through the maze like trails looking for the cottage in Huanhauxi. Because it’s not there. Which we eventually learned.

veg-friendly hot pot.

Hot Pot – You literally can’t visit Chengdu without getting hot pot, but this requisite was difficult given my brother loyal vegetarianism and the fact that every hot pot I’ve had (so far) uses a meat based broth, whether you opt for spicy or yuan yang (half spicy, half not). On their second to last night in Chengdu, horrified that my family would leave this city without the life-altering gastronomic experience, Jenny and I remembered a Chongqing hot pot place near my apartment that does things a little differently – the circular table is covered in personal electric hot plates, and everyone gets their own individual pot of either spicy oil or non-spicy broth. It’s a little (alot) nicer than our usual hot pot haunts, and on our last visit there was a large table of tourists taking advntage of the foreign-friendly system so we decided to give it a try. Luckily, they offered a non-spicy mushroom broth that did not have any meat base (or so they said). They also offered an all-you-can-eat price AND a station to make your own sauce that offers all the regulars – sesame oil, vinegar, oyster sauce, cilantro, garlic – plus a lot of appealing extras – scallions, several chili oils, ground sichuan pepper, peanuts, sesame seeds, soy sauce, and so on. In the end, my brother was able to eat hot pot guilt-free, and my mom was spared the (for some) nerve-wracking experience of eating hot pot in a loud, smoky neighborhood joint where the soundtrack is loogies being hawked and drunk men yelling. But I gotta say I’m getting quite accustomed to the latter. (The Chongqing Hot Pot restaurant is located on First Ring Road 2 overpasses past Jiu Yan Qiao if your heading in the direction of Chunxi Lu).

my lovely world-traveling mama :)