No cigar

What a heartbreaking loss for the United States...

Again, Joh and I woke up at 2:00am today to head to the office and watch the soccer game. This was the Confederations Cup championship game, and the U.S. faced off against Brazil. Now, the first game we stayed up to watch in the tournament was against Brazil and it was a terrible 3-0 loss. After the big upset over Spain, we thought the Americans had it in them to surprise the world again.

We walked up to the office and passed the same groggy security guard in the lobby on our floor. He was at his usual post, laying across the couch by the door, certain to pounce on any dangerous entity who decided to approach from the elevator. He didn't look happy to see us, but he did let us pass without harm (whew!) and we set off to our desks and turned on the TV.

About 45 glorious minutes later, the U.S. side was up 2-0. It really looked like a win, until reality struck.

Three and a half goals for Brazil in the second half. One was a half because it should have been a goal, but the official didn't see it cross the line. Didn't matter anyway...

We walked home during the sunrise again, looking forward to at least getting two more hours of sleep. I wrote another article about the game. Surprisingly, this innocent article really brought home to me the fact that I'm working as a journalist in China.

There's a line in the story: "In Act 1, Brazil was dressed like it was a cold day in Antarctica and the United States played like it was a cold day in hell." When I actually wrote that, I used Tibet instead of Antarctica. This, apparently, was a no-go. I didn't use it to grind an axe or anything - I hardly think referring to Tibet as a cold place is political - I just figured I'd refer to a cold place nearby as opposed to, say, Maine. Maybe Siberia would have worked...

Anyway, my editor was very nice when she asked me to explain the reference - actually everyone we work with is about as nice as a person can be. I explained that the Brazilians were dressed in a lot of clothes and they looked like they were playing someplace much colder than South Africa. She said she understood, but that it would be better if we changed the reference. It's a small thing to get bent out of shape over, and I didn't, but it is an interesting indicator of the kind of eggshells people have to walk on over here.

R.I.P., King of Pop

What terrible news to wake up to yesterday. For some fluke reason, I decided to get on the Internet before I got out of bed. My homepage is the International Herald Tribune, and it had this huge headline, "Michael Jackson dead at 50."

Huh?

I was never really a huge Michael Jackson fan or anything, but the man could put out some catchy tunes. And man could he make a music video. Michael Jackson just doesn't seem like the kind of person who could just die, y'know? When I was a kid, my brothers and I would always try to do the moonwalk on the kitchen floor. Everyone knew all the words to his songs, everyone wanted to be able to dance as well as him... People like him can't just die...

Anyway, it was a big deal in China too, which says a lot because I haven't noticed Chinese people really listening to Western artists, aside from the Carpenters. The TV's in our office were all tuned to CNN, which our company pays extra to receive. Our friend Pang Li, who took us to see "Transformers 2," is a huuuuuuuge MJ fan. He actually had tickets to one of the concerts in London, but had to sell them a while back when the dates changed. Well, we all offered Pang Li our condolences in the morning and took him out for a beer after work in honor of the King of Pop. I doubt MJ was a drinker, but it seemed like an appropriate enough way to commemorate him...

Football!!!

Where was I at 2:30 this morning? Joh and I were at the office. The U.S. national soccer team played Spain, the best team in the world, in the semifinals for the Confederations Cup, which is a warm-up tournament for the World Cup.

If you haven’t been paying attention, the U.S. got creamed against Brazil and Italy earlier in the tournament, then ran over Egypt to miraculously advance to the second round. I wrote an article about it here. Good news to advance, bad news to have to play Spain, who was unbeaten in their last 35 international games.

Well, they didn't make it to 36.

Did you watch the game? Please tell me you did. It was inspirational. The best soccer game I ever watched. The United States played like the 1980 U.S. Hockey team. They never looked intimidated and they never stopped hustling. Tim Howard was amazing in the goal, the defense played well, the offense took advantage of their opportunities. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful 2-0 victory for the red, white and blue. I wrote an article about the game here.

Anyway, Joh and I were already pretty wiped all day yesterday because of the Transformers movie. We ate dinner right after work, then went home and went to bed at about 7. I woke up at about 1 a.m., woke Joh up at 2 and we headed off to the office, since we don’t get the sports channel in our apartment.

We rolled up to our floor in the building and there was a guard or maintenance guy or something sleeping in the lobby. When we turned on the TV, he came out and kinda watched with us for a second, then asked Joh to turn it down. We had to contain ourselves as the U.S. held on to the win even though the Spanish kept getting opportunities to score. It was totally worth missing out on sleep for.

This time, when we went home, the sun was up. I hate having to go to work on so little sleep, especially as I notice all the errors in the article I wrote about the game, but I guess that’s the price of being a fan…

More than meets the eye

China Standard Time is 12 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time, which kinda sucks for things like keeping in touch with friends or calling home. It’s kinda cool when a movie comes out here the same day it does in the U.S. because it means I get to see it before my friends do. I guess that’s not all that cool since I’m not really a big movie buff, but it was cool today when we saw the midnight premiere of "Transformers 2."

The movie was in English with Chinese subtitles. I’m told the theater was in the university district, so maybe a lot of people wanted to see that version to practice their English. We were the only Americans/Westerners in there, which got us several looks. It was interesting because we would laugh about three seconds before everyone else during the funny scenes.

I thought the movie was terrible. It was full of canned lines that I’ve heard a thousand times before, tired jokes about bureaucrats, tired humor from Tyrese Gibson (actual line from the movie: “We shed blood, sweat and precious metal with these guys.” Seriously?), tired usage of Megan Fox as nothing more than a girl with supple lips… you name it. That said, it was a good summer movie, in that it had lots of explosions and good special effects. Just don’t expect to get lost in the plot… And don’t go with anyone who’s prone to seizures.

The tough part was getting home. The theater, like everything else, is on the other side of town from our place. We had five people and it was almost 3 a.m. by the time we left the movie. Not a good set of circumstances for hunting a taxi. So we walked through the streets of Beijing, which were surprisingly busy for the time of day, trying to find a taxi that would take five passengers. We walked about a mile before we even got one to stop for us. Of course, he stopped in the far left lane so we had to stand in the middle of the road to beg him to take five people. I took advantage of the situation and laid down in the middle of the street, which is something you don’t often get to do in Beijing.

By 3:30 we had to give up and split up the group. Will and Catherine went home first since the only address we’ve learned how to give to taxi drivers leaves them a 20-minute walk to their apartment. Then Joh and I searched for another taxi with our friend, Pang Li, who lives near us. We couldn’t find one anywhere until I saw one coming on the other side of the street and ran out to the median to get him to make a u-turn, which he did, passing several other people who were looking for rides. I think he liked my beard…

We finally got home at about 4:15, just as the sun started to rise. With an 8:30 start at work, it has not been a good day…

Bad(minton) to the bone

So as you walk down the streets of Beijing, one thing you’ll notice is a ton of people playing badminton. They play everywhere – sidewalks, alleys, grassy knolls, badminton courts (gasp!). I’m surprised I haven’t seen anyone play ping-pong – excuse me, table tennis – anywhere yet. They’re all playing badminton.

So, in our quest to do as the Romans are doing, Joh and I bought some badminton racquets at the market. She did all the talking – in Chinese. I don’t know if it’s better to negotiate in Mandarin or not, but it was kind of impressive to watch her work, even if it made me feel somewhat inadequate. Her Mandarin is definitely getting better, but I think it’s best when she’s negotiating…

Anyway, we got our racquets pretty cheap and walked down the street to explore the Embassy District, which we hadn’t visited yet. We found this place called “The Place,” which is a mall with this pretty big courtyard and an LED screen that’s about 200 feet long. Cool thing is, the screen is on the ceiling of this enormous overhang above the courtyard, so you look up to see all these cool little images and music videos playing above you. It’s a pretty cool thing to see.

People were playing with these big disc-shaped balloon things when we walked up, throwing them in the air and letting the breeze carry them far away before they drifted back down. We decided to grab a spot and play badminton. The light from the screen made up for the setting sun as we pelted about half of the Chinese population with our errant shots. By the time we were done playing, the little logos that had been painted on our bogus racquets had already started peeling off, although the shuttlecocks withstood the greater-than-normal amount of collisions with the stone floor. We’re looking forward to more games on the streets of our neighborhood with all the other badminton faithful. There’s also a Wednesday-night badminton club at our office, though I don’t think we’re quite ready for that yet. A tip for the potential travelers to China – brush up on your badminton skills before you come…

Keeping tabs

Not a day to tell a story, except to say that I am guilty of having taken the U.S. media for granted. I'm trying to keep up with the planned protests in Iran today and it's so tough to do. Our Internet is too slow to stream live video (not that I can find any news orgs that are streaming live video anyway) and we don't get any English language news channels in our apartment.

I'm listening to WUNC (NPR) through their Web site, and I'm a little disappointed. Right now, while the constantly updated blog on the New York Times site is mentioning reports that tear gas is being used to disperse crowds in Tehran, NPR's Weekend Edition is discussing the FDA's new authority over tobacco. Way to go...

A big deal in Tibet...

Today I know what it feels like to be a rock star.

Catherine, one of the interns from Appalachian State, and I went to the Beijing Convention Center to cover a tourism expo. It didn’t sound like a big deal but they wanted a video story, so I kinda had to go since the other videographer was working on something.

It started off like a normal convention. There were exhibitors from a bunch of Chinese provinces, several Asian countries and a few countries from Africa and Europe. I was walking around with the decrepit video camera provided by China.org when I happened upon a Chinese man playing a couple of hand instruments I’d never seen before. They looked kinda like little nunchuks but sounded like maracas. Anyway, I start to tape him while he’s just messing around with these little things. He sees me and just perks up and starts singing this little song. I didn’t need the footage but I kept taping because he looked so happy. He finished his song and did the polite bow and started tanking me profusely. It was kinda cool…

Then we rolled up to the booth for Lhasa, Tibet. Admittedly, the booth first caught my eye because they had some gorgeous women standing out front. We found out later that two of them will be competing for the Miss Asia pageant. As soon as we walked in we were greeted by Tibet’s director of tourism. He shook our hands about 476 times and kept telling us to visit Tibet and said he would be our tour guide and we could eat dinner at his house and pet his dog and borrow his car and all this – offered everything except his daughter’s hand in marriage. We talked for a long time, then he disappeared. Another guy, who looked so anxious to talk with us that I thought his eyes would burst, walked up and started to talk with us about where we were from and what we were doing in China. Then a nice lady started talking to us… it felt like a line was forming to speak to us.

Anyway, the tourism director came back with these white scarves called katas which he wrapped around our necks. I understand they’re a traditional gift for people who are leaving on a trip, which fits in with how convincing this guy was in trying to sell us on a vacation in Tibet.

Well now we’re kind of celebrities and everyone – everyone – starts coming up to say hello to us. There were about 15 or 20 people working at the booth and they all spoke English. They all wanted to take their picture with us. Another videographer who was doing a story on the expo started taping me taping stuff (awkward). A girl named Isabelle – it seems common for people to have an English equivalent for their name – came and introduced herself to us and really hit it off with Catherine. I, of course, kept trying to talk to the Miss Asia girls. The tourism guy kept walking off, then coming back just to shake our hands and say something funny.

They gave us books, shook our hands, shook our hands again, took our pictures, then shook our hands some more. They danced, they sang, talked to us about Tibet, then they shook our hands. Once I figure out how I can load pictures from China, I’ll post some of the photos because it was a really cool thing. One of my favorite experiences so far… I hope I get to go to Tibet while I’m here.

Is there a breeze in here?

OK, there's a story I've been meaning to tell you, but I don't remember what it is. So I'll move right along to what I did today, with the promise that I'll fill you in soon on whatever it is that I'm forgetting.

No, WAIT. I just remembered...

So there was a bowling alley at the hotel we stayed in last weekend. Well, the night of the KTV fun I just told you about was also a night of bowling and other fun activities. It was a group of five of us hanging out at the beginning of the night - Joh and I, Scottish David, and William and Catherine from App State. In the first game of bowling, I wrecked shop. We had a bet going that whoever got last place had to serve drinks at breakfast the next day. Sadly, my roommate lost.

Well, I kinda had a little swagger entering the second game, so the bet was that the loser had to wear a kilt to work the following Monday. It started as a bet between the whole group, but then when we realized that it was kind of unfair to include everyone, the field narrowed to just William and me.

I lost. William's a dirty sandbagger...

Now, I'm always one to pay on my bets, but I must lodge a complaint about my payment: somehow between Saturday night and Monday morning, "kilt" turned into "entire Scottish outfit." David showed up to work Monday morning with the kilt, the socks, a wool military jacket with lace trim, a leather ammo pouch lined with fur, all kinds of belts and a set of bagpipes.

Ok, kidding about the bagpipes...

Let me tell you, even with the breeze that a kilt provides - a pleasant breeze with which most men are not familiar - this outfit was making me melt. That wool top had a mandarin collar and did not breathe all that well, and it kinda made me want to die. Plus, if there's one way to make sure everyone in China will stare at you, It's to wear a kilt. Who knew?

Anyway, now just about everyone in the office has a picture with me wearing my kilt because kilt day was such a rousing success. I'll tell you, if I knew this was the icebreaker that would thaw the office, I would have done it a long time ago.

Then there was lunch, which requires a walk on a bridge over one of the busiest roads in our area. I'm sure a few of the drivers were digging the outfit as I walked by. It's also a pretty busy pedestrian area and the people along the route weren't shy about pointing at me and giggling. Even the security guards - and it seems like half the male population in China works in security because every establishment in the country has a guard - were getting a laugh out of it. Glad I could brighten everyone's day...

So much for my gambling career.

Karaoke - bringing people together

So last Thursday was our office's karaoke night. In case you haven't heard, karaoke is a lot different in China than in the U.S. First off, karaoke, or KTV as they call it here, is done only in the company of friends. You bring a group and rent a room with a screen, a computer, a big table and a big leather couch. Our room was perfectly sized for the ten people we brought along. You have control over the system and waiters go room to room serving food and drinks. It's kinda cool not being in a smoky bar with a bunch of miserable singers trying to belt out "Don't Stop Believin" (like I normally do), but it's also a little intimidating being in front of such a small group.

So we're there and we're singing and the four Chinese people are singing Chinese songs, the five Americans are singing... actually, no, they aren't singing... and David, our Scottish representative, is singing the Carpenters (they're a big deal in China). It's kinda like an eighth-grade dance in the way it's all separated so I decide to roll out some "Philadelphia Freedom" to break the ice. I like to sing that song in my car, and it always seems to sound better there...

Anyway, we get some food and a couple of beers (drinking is not a big part of KTV) and the Americans loosen up and we're having a good time when we're informed that there are judges involved in this whole affair to pick the best singers from our group. Apparently our whole company, which is pretty big, is having this "Chinese Idol" competition and each department will send one or two representatives to the next round of the competition. Ok... So our two interns from App State team up with Suzi, a UNC alumna, to sing a pretty, um, unique version of "Sexy Back." Joh teams up with a Chinese staff member to sing a traditional Chinese song, and I, well I don't just sing, but perform the "Stray Cat Strut," complete with me walking right by with my tail in the air.

Needless to say, I have advanced to the next round. David's version of "Jambalaya" was good enough for him to advance too, but he'll be heading back to the U.K. unfortunately and will miss the big day. So much for our plans of a duet...

It's good that I had this opportunity to hone my karaoke skills, because I had to rely on them again over the weekend. Our company took us on a retreat to a town called Huangloo -- or, at least, there's a temple there called Huangloo -- and put us up in a pretty sweet hotel that had a bowling alley, a pool, billiards, table tennis, and, of course, KTV. At the end of the night, the select few who hadn't gone to bed yet went to the KTV room to check the scene, and received a standing ovation upon entering. It was pretty crazy. The room was being rented by a bunch of Chinese rail workers, and they all had been drinking. Aside from that, I didn't know much about them. But they definitely liked to drink.

They also definitely liked the Carpenters. I know this because David requested "Yesterday Once More" on karaoke, then promptly disappeared. The workers handed me the mic and ushered me to the center of the room, where I "sang" the song as best I could while taking a few intermittent breaks to yell "DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVVIIIIIIID." He finally came back and took over and I returned to a crowd that seemed much more happy than my performance deserved. Great time, even though it was tough to communicate. People would come up to me and say "Where are you from?" I'd say "United States. Where are you from?" then they'd smile... and nod... and leave. Not because they didn't like the U.S., but because that's all they knew how to say in English. Most of our communication consisted solely of clinking beer bottles...

You know, I've been fortunate enough to travel a good amount in my 20's and I have to say that experiences like that are the best part of travel. I've seen sights and I can honestly say that there are few sightseeing expeditions I've been on that were any more satisfying than just looking at postcards. Normandy is the only example I can think of... It's experiences like singing karaoke in Huangloo with a bunch of railway workers or watching your friend challenge a 12-year-old Turkish kid to a dance competition in Cappadocia that make travel worthwhile. When you go overseas, experiencing the culture easily trumps anything you can take in with your eyes.

I'm a little behind, so I'll try to add more stories soon.

Dinner Theater

OK, I may have explained this before, but getting to this site is so difficult at times that I don't feel like checking, but Joh has been totally spoiling me on this trip. I speak nary a word of Mandarin. I've picked up a couple of phrases but I haven't really been trying to learn much because Joh speaks it well enough to get me by. Verbal communication isn't that necessary for things like transportation, but it is essential for eating in my neighborhood. Again, we are far from the tourist areas where people speak Chinese. Here, the menus are covered with the beautiful Mandarin characters for everything and usually an accompanying photo and the only English you hear comes from the translators in my office or the occasional "Hey, dude" I get from people on the street. When there aren't any pictures, Joh asks the waitress to help with the menu because she doesn't read Chinese that well. Either way, we always get a good meal becasuse she's got it under control.

Well, Joh fell asleep early tonight - like right after work - so I finally had to go and brave the dining world on my own. It was inevitable that this would happen so it's not like I'm all that shocked. And it's not like I've never been forced to order food in a language I don't understand that well; my first time ordering pizza in Germany was interesting (try ordering a pepperoni pizza in Germany and see what happens). Armed with my translation book and a few yuan, I go walking down the street to seek a simple meal.

In our neighborhood, sunset brings an army of food vendors out to the sidewalk. They have their little grills for cooking skewers of meat and vegetables, coolers for selling beer, and big pots for boiling dumplings. There are all off these little tables on the sidewalk and people just go outside - because the nights are very pleasant - and grab a snack and a Yanjing. One of our first nights in town, Joh and I grabbed a snack of our own out there and it was nice. For every one of the intermittent groups of tables, there's always one table with a Chinese checkers game going on, and there'll be a group of old men standing around two guys playing. At least, I assume two guys are in there playing. Normally it's such a large crowd you can't see inside the circle. Then there'll be a couple of tables with guys sitting alone, probably people who had to work late. Maybe a group of 20-somethings at one table... you name it. It's a good environment and it's something I haven't seen in the tourist areas, which makes me glad to see it here.

Well, I walk up to one of the vendors and confidently say, "yangroo," which is a mispronunciation of "yangrou," which means "lamb meat." Apparently the "r" is kind of a half r-sound and half y-sound and the "ou" is acually prononced like a soft ow-sound (we won't even get into the inflection...). Well, the lady undersrtands anyway. I hold up four fingers, then point at the eggplant and hold up three fingers and away she goes. I feel good. Perfect execution.

Then her husband shows up.

Then two pretty girls walk up.

Her husband starts talking to me like we grew up together in Shanghai. I'm smiling and nodding and my face is getting red and he's talking and talking and then he's waiting for a response and I say, "uhhhhhh. Wo bu mingbai." I don't understand.

He stares at me. Stares, stares, stares. Then, out of nowhere, he makes this big smiley face like a used car salesman in a TV commercial, gives me a thunbs up and says... well, I don't know what he said but it sounded nice. He pulls my food off the grill and starts seasoning it, puts it in a container and hands it to me. I wait for him to tell me how much and he holds up his hand, makes a fist and sticks up his index figer and makes a hook of it, which is how they say "nine" with their hands. I hand him a ten, he hands me a one and he says, "BAD-ood-ja." I spell it phonetically in the hopes that someone out there can tell me what it means because he just busts out laughing, his wife is laughing, the two pretty girls are laughing. I start laughing because I'm a sympathetic laugher and I walk off with my food.

The skewers were delicious, but I'm still hungry. And I think I should start practicing my Mandarin...

Taigui le!

So today Joh and I braved the rain to head to the market downtown. What an experience. I'm not talking about a mall or an open-air vegetable market or anything - this is the mecca of Louis Vuitton knockoffs and fake Rolexes. I don't think anyone in the world needs a belt as badly as all the people working in this market thought I needed one. "Hello sir. You want belt? Belt? Belt? iPod? Camera? Suit? Diesel T-shirt? You like kites? Chopsticks? Pearl? What you looking for?" It's actually kinda stressful because I don't want to be rude but they actually jump out and grab you to get you to look at their stuff. When did people start making fake iPods anyway?

It was funnier to hear them talk to Joh, because she's Chinese, but she's walking around with the dude with the beard. No one is really sure how to address her. So half of them would say something in Chinese and the other half would just call her "lady." "Hi lady. You like shoes? Dress? Kites? Watch?"

After overcoming the initial shock of such in-your-face capitalism, we got down to brass tacks with some of the vendors. I was looking at stuff to buy as gifts for people back home and there's apparently a delicate art to this whole thing. They'll quote you a price that's good enough for them to retire on, then you have to counter with a price that's about one-third of what you're actually willing to pay. The plan is to wind up somewhere in the middle - after the dance is over. So I'm negotiating the cost of an item with this nice lady (in English) and she says "For you, special price. I like-a your face hairs." (I'm not making fun of her English, which is obviously 100 times better than my Mandarin, I just want to tell the story as accurately as possible.) She whips out a calculator and throws out a number to which, in keeping with the script, I reply, "Taigui le." Too expensive. I wave my hand like I'm flicking away a bug.

Now, "taigui le" is the first Mandarin I learned before I came here, when my friend, Pat, told me about negotiating at these same markets. It's the key term. So the lady pauses for a second, certainly shocked at my mastery of Mandarin bargaining terms, before assuring me the price is not, in fact, taigui le. "No, not taigui le. This is best quality. This is special price for you. At this price I make no profits....[awkward pause]... Here." She hands me the calculator. "Gimme your best-a price."

Again, I follow the script and put down a really low number, but I didn't go as low as the accepted strategy calls for. I stay kinda close to what I'm willing to pay. I punch the numbers into the calculator and hand it to her. She looks down at the number and makes a face like I shoved a lemon in her mouth and kicked her in the shin. "No no no no no... No one here will sell to you at this price." This is doubtable, as for any given item at the market, there are about 32 vendors selling some version of it.

Anyway, long story short, I wind up buying the item, but I didn't do a good job of negotiating. I do feel like I got some practice in though, and I feel ready to go look for a suit. Joh and I walk around for a bit and look for a tailor; the suits at the market are tailor-made. We find one and I look at all the available material and patterns. I start salivating over this one light bluish-gray material that looks like a suit Michael Westen wears in Burn Notice, which happens to be the best show on television by the way. I ask the lady how much.

"1100 RMB," she says.

Again, "Taigui le. 300 RMB."

"You crazy."

That's it. No counter offer. I'm confused. I start to walk out, expecting her to stop me, but she just watches me go. Fair enough. I head over to the next tailor to get the price I want. I find one, we go through the same opening lines, and she looks at me after I say 300 and she says, "Maybe you come back another day and not make silly jokes." I start to walk off again and she stops me and gives me another offer, 200RMB less than the original asking price. I ask if that's the price for two. She starts laughing. Her friends start laughing. I start laughing. This is hilarious. I start walking again, she tries to call me back for another offer but by now the market is closing and I'm hungry, so today is chalked as a loss. We're gonna head back again one of these days, but I feel like a starting pitcher who just lost the season opener and now has to wait four games to try for redemption.

Speaking of shopping, the grocery store down the street is called the Jian-Mart. It's actually an IGA, if anyone knows about that chain. I think there was one in Cincinnati when I lived up there. Anyway, there's a lady right inside the door who makes these delicious little snacks which I have decided to call Spongy Muffin Tasties. Why? Well, they're spongy, they're muffins and they're tasty. Spongy Muffin Tasties. How spongy? If you squeeze them in your hand, they return to their original shape in about two seconds. If you spray them with water, they'll expand into large dinosaurs and scare your little sister. Five yuan for a dozen, which is less than a buck. No haggling necessary...

Toujours dans nos <3

Sixty-five years ago today, on the northern shores of an occupied France, a group of everyday men proved what can happen when ordinary people are forced to become extraordinary. Five years ago today, I was able to visit Normandy to see those beaches and meet several of the men who pulled that mission off. I also saw and saluted the tombstones of many of those who didn't see the end of the war. It was one of the most humbling experiences of my life.

I've never liked the whole "Thank a Veteran" campaign or those stupid yellow magnets, so to the brave souls who fought in the most noble campaign in history, I offer the clink of a beer bottle and a blood-curdling rebel yell. HOOAH!

A Can of Harmonize...

Being in Beijing on June 4th is the one thing I looked forward to the most about this internship. If you don't know what happened in and around Tiananmen Square 20 years ago, you're in the same boat as a lot of the Chinese population. The government has run a non-stop campaign to remove that day and those around it from memory. It's the kind of information control that the state refers to as "Harmonizing."

You've seen The Photo though - the one with the man carrying two plastic grocery bags standing in front of a column of tanks, stopping their progression through the city. Lens, a multimedia project from the New York Times, did a really great story about that photograph - there are apparently four versions of it - and how difficult it was for journalists to get information about what happened at those democracy protests out of the country.

Joh and I went to Tiananmen once before on this trip. We got off the subway and crossed a crosswalk into the square. I tried to go in the wrong entrance and the security guys waved their hands and pointed me to a little security tent. I walked in, went through a metal detector, it beeped, I looked around for the security guard who gave me a passive wave to show how enthused he was about his job, and we walked in.

Last night (this post will show June 4 probably, but it's June 5 here), the system was totally different. All of the interns here at our Web site (which has nothing about Tiananmen on it) planned on going to the square after work. We watched all the stories come up throughout the day about the police presence downtown to prevent any uprisings. Even Al-Jazeera had a story up about it. When we got off the subway downtown, our walk from the stop to the square was tense to the point of being comical. Cops in several different uniforms lined the sidewalks, police cars were parked up and down the sides of the streets. Then there were these "undercover" guys in civilian clothes wearing these drug-store badges with a Chinese flag on them. Their eyes were darting all over the place and we could tell they thought we were suspicious because they actually weren't staring at us.

When we got to the entrance to the square, there were about 10 guards where there had been only one before. They were looking through people's bags and checking their pockets. They kept asking about cameras. I went to walk through and was abruptly stopped and waved to a woman who wanted my passport, which I wasn't carrying.

"You can't go in, sir."

"I need a passport to get into the square?"

"Yes."

Another American interjected: "It's because it's the 20th..."

Thanks, Captain Obvious.

I wanted to ask the security woman if she even knew why there was such a large presence out for just this one day, but I figured she wouldn't understand what I was asking and I also wasn't really interested in causing a scene. Luckily, Joh stepped up and started speaking Mandarin to another guard, which I think warmed him up. He waved us through and on we went.


There was hardly anyone there. I think the security guards outnumbered the visitors. I wish I could show you the pictures I took, but I can't seem to upload photos from China for some reason. Sometimes it's like I'm stuck on the 1997 version of the Internet...

I'm not sure why I wanted to go. I guess I was just curious to see how many people would be there and how many people would know the significance of the day. If you don't know much about what happened, you should really check it out - articles about it are up on all of the news sites. Say what you want about the USA, but it's hard to imagine the government attempting to systematically erase the memory of something like what happened at Kent State in 1970. It's hard adjusting to a place where speech is controlled - where I can't visit whatever Web sites I want. It almost feels like the sun shouldn't shine as brightly in a place that's under so much control...

Workin It

Most of this post was actually from Tuesday, but it's pretty difficult to blog from here, especially with all the blocks they're putting up because of the 20th anniversary of the breakup of the Tiananmen Square protests. So, here's a big mish-mash of stuff from the last couple of days...

Tuesday was our first day of work, and what a day it was. We showed up at our office building this morning with no idea where to go or what to do. It’s a pretty modern-looking 12-story building made of reflective black glass called the Foreign Languages Mansion. There are skinny little guards outside and a revolving door that whooshes you into an expansive gray lobby with a coffee shop, an electronics store, a wine store and the elevators.

By the way, has anyone ever seen an elevator that wasn’t made by ThyssenKrupp? Ever? Just wondering. It’s even in Microsoft’s spell checker. Those guys must be billionaires...

We got to our floor and luckily ran into the woman who met us at the airport, so we had an escort. We were shown to our little cubicles, introduced to the other two interns (AppStaters!), and given little ID badges. Then, no kidding, we were told to surf the Internet and have fun.

ID badges. They have to be swiped everywhere. You swipe it to enter the building. You swipe it to go to lunch. You swipe it when you go to the bathroom. You swipe it when you come out of the bathroom. No matter where you are, somebody knows because of that badge. Every time you swipe, it beeps. Beep. Bathroom. Beep. Front door. Beep. Break (beep) room. Beep beep beep. The cacophony is worsened by the pop-song ring tones everyone has on their cell phones. I must be working with the most popular people in China, because every minute Beyonce or Fergie or Pink or Jay Z lets me know that someone is calling someone in my office. Beep...

They can further figure it out our whereabouts from all the cameras in the building. I feel like we are the most-watched people in the world. Sitting at my cubby, I have a camera in the ceiling at my 12 o’clock, two at my 3 o’clock, two at my 5 o’clock and one right behind me. Every time my ear itches, I think about whoever’s on the other side of those black half-spheres in the ceiling. If my cheek itches, I scratch my beard with great pride, because I know that faceless overseer is beardless and is likely brimming with jealousy. Aside from that, I do my best to hide as often as possible.

I haven't had much work to do yet, so I've spent most of my time at the office applying for jobs for when I leave in December. If I leave this stint in China without a job lined up, it's gonna be a sad state of affairs.

Yes, I know this post consists of two different font sizes, but there isn't anything I can do about it. My screen is garbled...

Lunch is fun. There's one word I can use to describe the lunch experience here: communist. We get free lunch, as do the other people who work for the state. We eat in this enormous room with 15-foot ceilings and white walls and white floors and stainless steel lunch trays. The flourescent lighting reminds me of Tom Hanks' office in "Joe vs. the Volcano," if you've ever seen that. There's two or three pictures on the wall to break up the monochrome, but they're all 8x10's, so they don't do much. The food is good though, although I normally don't know what it is when I scoop it onto my tray. At the end of the chow line is a three-foot-tall vat of soup. We have these ladles that are about four feet long to scoop soup into our delicate little bowls. It's a very difficult process, kinda like using two-foot-long tweezers to pull out a splinter.

So today is Thursday here, but probably still Wednesday for all of you. I gotta head to work. More tomorrow...