About two days before I left, someone said something to me that I found unnervingly stupid. I took the diplomatic high-road and nodded politely and said, "Mmmm. maybe."

She said, "This will be good for you. Maybe you'll learn to not be so opinionated. I mean, we love you, Jen ... but we're your friends."

Essentially, she said she thought I was too vocal in my opinions and that having to keep them to myself for awhile might train me to be more subdued.

There is so much wrong with that idea. At the time it was expressed, I kept my opinion to myself. I will not censure myself any longer. I have a few things to say about becoming less opinionated.

First of all, this woman can't possibly know me that well if she thinks I'm ever going to become LESS opinionated or keep those opinions to myself.

And why should I? How in the world is being more subdued and less opinionated a GOOD thing. In what Betty Crocker, jingoistic, duck-and-cover world is it a good thing to go along with whatever you're told and not question and therefore challenge your country, your society, your friends, your family, yourself. (And yes, that was a deliberate dig at the generation that helped produce my friend's ever wise 'men-don't-like-girls-who-talk-too-much' type advice).

Let me tell you a little bit about THAT world. Well ... maybe I'll tell you some other time. I enjoy being able to write in this journal and have you read it, so I'll refrain. Are you catching my point?

Now that I'm living in that world, I am becoming a vigilant defender of my own opinions. Of my own expressions. Of your rights to your own opinions. If you thought I was a ferocious defender of that right before, you have no idea how opinionated I am now. And just how angry it makes me that some people -- who actually enjoy what we would call an unalienable right -- would squander it by recusing themselves from the discourse by not forming an opinion on something -- anything -- one way or another.

Before I came here, I thought I would graciously and quietly observe media practices as a guest. When in Rome.

But that kind of defeats the bigger purpose. We are becoming a global community with global media practices. What I'm doing now might be a drop in the bucket, but by degrees, it is helping influence the way we talk to each other. My job is to teach about Western media practices -- that's what I was hired to do. It's not helping anybody for me to keep my head down and my mouth shut. And guess what! I don't have to.

I'm an American.

Listen, either you form some opinions about the world around you and live your life accordingly, or you have someone else tell you what to think and live your life for you.

(Sorry, I kind of veered off into an open letter to the offending party).
By the way. My job rocks. You might not see it now, but the change is coming. And I get to be a part of it. It's awesome.

I wish I could take all the people I love and put them in a locket and wear them close to my heart all the time.

I had to go through Germany to post this, but I did it. Hallelujah.

It's a little bit of a challenge to get to my LJ site. It can be done, as I've just now discovered, but it is a tedious process. And I can only do it from my computer, i.e., I can't do it from work.

I've been writing. Feverishly. It's how I pass the time while I'm waiting for copy at work. It's how I disrobe before going to sleep at night. It's how I bottle all the things I'm experiencing now so that it doesn't evaporate on me. I've let my thoughts scatter too many times in the past -- and when the moment washes away, I find myself only being able to remember how it felt as though I were remembering a dream. I don't want to do that anymore. I want vivid colors. So I've been writing. Feverishly.

And for some reason, I only feel comfortable writing in online journals. To that end, I've moved my travelblog to: http://phyerbird.blogspot.com/

Sometimes my entries are little more than scribbles on cocktail napkins that I don't want to forget. I've given myself permission to just flow and not self-edit. I don't want to subtract from my own sincerity. I don't want to censor myself. There is way too much of that going on here, anyway.

And I want to start being more open and honest. I don't think anything I feel or think is unique. I think everybody has felt things similar to how I feel at one point or another. We just don't really talk to each other much about that sort of thing. How does that make us closer?

Maybe I'm just saying all this to make excuses for what's going to go on the blogspot. ;P

I prefer my LJ -- and I'll probably bounce back and forth between the two. I figure that people who really want to keep tabs on me won't mind. And those who would mind are probably not reading this, anyway.

If I am not successful in finishing this damned entry, I'm just gonna call it quits. But in an earnest effort to avoid that, I'm going to forgo quality and just get it out there.

Between spotty interweb connections, things that I need to get done and a roommate who won't leave me the hell alone ... I'm finding it hard to get any writing done at all. It's very frustrating because writing it all out is the only means of "venting" I have. I don't really have anyone here to talk to. I don't know if anyone can relate to this, but not writing -- even if its just for myself -- contributes to a burgeoning sense of isolation. And I don't like it.

What follows is a patchwork of entries I've tried to pen in the past few days:


I'm being kept on task by Tina who got after me to start blogging -- though I suspect she did so without being aware of the existence of this little journal. Regardless, it's been a few days and I'm going through a lot so I guess it's time to write.

I also guess it's an understatement to say, "there's a lot on my mind."

Externally:
 
I learned the subway system, learned about some tricky real-estate practices and acquired a place to stay.

There was a room in this beautiful flat that I really wanted to take, but one of the roommates decided to give it to his friend. Too bad for me. The place was killer nice, in a really happening neighborhood and the girl roommate, Tiffany,  is a redhead from California who speaks perfect Chinese. By the time Pierre (the other roommate) changed his mind, I had already accepted a room elsewhere.

Should I talk about all the places that I saw between awesome Chaoyang park place and "elsewhere" -- a room in a hutong in Chaoyang District? I saw some rooms that were extraordinarily posh and I saw rooms that ... hell no. I'm all for doing things authentically, but ... they were bad. And I don't just mean tiny, I mean, may or may not have decent plumbing. No kitchen. No doors on the rooms. Dirty. Half an hour walk from the subway down snakey, identical streets where no cabs ever go.

But after a weekend of pounding the pavement and meeting up with potential landladies, roommates and other people, I found a room that is only one and a half MGMT songs away from the subway. (About 10 minutes walking). My roommate is a bubbly Vietnamese girl who has lived in Beijing for 8 years. She speaks better Chinese than she does Vietnamese (or English for that matter) and she works in finance. She is very concerned about the "global financial crisis" and talks about it often. She likes to befriend other expats.

Edit: She wont' shut up. All she ever talks about is how hard it is to find a steady work because of the "financial crisis" and the many boys who she leads on, many of whom she met online, but who she'll never date. And she repeats what she just said 10 minutes ago. It's like it's the only English she knows.

I trusted my gut and took her room, though there were nicer ones in more expat-friendly neighborhoods. I hope my gut is right. I don't know why it told me to go for this one, but I listened.

Edit: I'm starting to not trust my gut.

Now that Tiffany (awesome redhead) has said the room in her flat is available, I'm second-guessing myself. I'm also worried about some cultural differences that leave me wondering about the orientation of my new roommate.

You pay rent quarterly here and you usually pay a deposit as well. That means four months rent up front -- a crunch when you aren't prepared for this months in advance. My employer has given me an advance to cover these costs, but that means it comes out of my first paycheck.

This is one of the reasons I took a room instead of an apartment to myself. There was just no way to pull it financially. Luckily, I'm all payed up for three months and I've got enough tucked away to keep me fed until the end of January when I'll get my first full paycheck.

Edit: Luckily?

Needless to say, I was a little annoyed by the less than forthright information I was given. The system is a little screwy here. I don't think I'll ever complain about the U.S. Postal services again. (But give me time. I'm sure that will change).

Seriously. I hate being rude, but I'm going to have to if I don't start getting a little time to myself. The private time I do have is spent walking (and I haven't mastered walking and writing).

On to other things:

My oral English and syntax is suffering
Already I am starved for native English conversation. I find myself going into work early or staying a few minutes later just to hear it -- though the conversations are usually depressing and toxic to my fragile state right now.

I accidentally bought 5 fish fillet sandwiches last week.
Don't let anyone tell you that "they all speak English." I've heard some people in the states say this and I always thought it was arrogant. Now I know it's downright ignorant.

I got lost in my own complex and lonely planet saved me.
God bless Lonely planet. It taught me how to say Building 8 (ba lou) and beer (pieju).

I don't think it's healthy for expats to stay longer than 2 years.
Unless you travel often, have family here, are a student, etc ... I don't think its good for one's psyche to be expatriated for so long. The thing is, you could live here for 50 years and develop a deep appreciation for the culture, the language and everything else, but you'll never ever be Chinese. You can't blend in. It's impossible. So you'll always feel a little alien. But the longer you are away from your native land, the more disassociated from it you'll become until you can't identify with it anymore.

Then again, I've met a few people who seem to like not being able to identify with anyone. I'm not one of them. They are cynical and self-loathing and poisonous. I am here to build bridges -- not to hide out from myself. You'd be surprised how common that is here. And you can usually spot a member from that camp pretty quickly.

And speaking of expat camps:
Tiffany and Glen (a Brit who was on his way back home) gave me a lesson in the cliques here. There are students/bachelors, teachers. backpackers and  businessmen. They said the different cliques don't usually comingle and have strong opions agains one another. They put themselves in the backpacker category: Though they had jobs here, they were "fly by the seat" adventurers. I asked them where I fit in ... and they admitted they didn't really know -- but were kind enough to say I was more like a backpacker.

Facial tissues are green-tea scented.

My skin is not happy. Either that or my hormones aren't . Either way, I'm reluctant to get on viddy skype while I've got this nasty "Jacey's birthday zit." I'll get over it soon, though. Vanity has gone out the window. I'm not trying to land a man here or anything like that.

I've been mistaken for French a few times and I don't really mind. Today in the cafeteria I sat down next to two Chinese people who asked "D'où viens-tu." It's hard enough for me to understand broken English, let alone broken French -- because I have my own version of poorly spoken French. (There French is better than mine). But then they repeated it in English. "Ah, I said. United States." They told me they thought I was French. I guess I look it. But deeper in the conversation they asked why I had no meat on my plate. When I told them I was a vegetarian, they told me that was probably why I looked French. Americans eat too much meat, they said. Makes them fat. I'm not fat. So ... I guess I'm flattered. 

I don't normally drink sodas, but I could see myself developing a penchant for green apple soda they have here.

Internally:

I have a few things I'd like to accomplish while I am in exile. Ok, that's a bit dramatic. Forgive. I've been thinking about discipline ... and if I ever get any time to myself, I really want to work on being a better self-teacher and master. I want to become more diligent in my studies, in my artistic outlets, and physical and spiritual maintenance. I thought China might be a good place to work on these things. Every distraction here forces me to challenge myself. It's important enough to me that when I am financially able, I will eat the deposit and move out so that I can have time to do these things.

I say this knowing that this could be just another in a big stack of resolutions. But the desire is there. We'll see how practical it is to tackle all these things.

Gretchen is a co-worker who has a better attitude than my other dour colleagues. She's discovered a social life here and I hope to hitch my wagon to her horse. Tomorrow, I'm going with her and a bunch of other people to see her friend's band play. I plan to get involved in the music scene as a good way to meet more like-minded expats. Apparently, everybody wants a band, so I'm going to go shopping for a cheap bass in the next few weeks. I really, *really* want to get some chops back and then some.

Gretchen treated me to dinner tonight and let me vent about everything, and gave me some reassurance and casual advice about how to deal with things / people at work -- and confirmed that everything that I'm going through is completely normal and that I'm handing it well. I'll be forever in her debt.

Sometimes i feel very confident and a little like a badass for the things I'm managing to pull off -- other times I feel very tiny in this giant city and I am humbled. I feel like I'm 5. I don't know exactly what I mean by that. It's a strange feeling I have trouble describing, but that's how I feel.

I'm already feeling pretty lonely here. I hope I can change that and make some friends soon. It's hard being so far away from everyone. Sometimes I feel incredibly brokenhearted.

And sometimes I feel just fine.


**********************************

I'm gonna call this one good.

Energy and uninterrupted time have not yet coincided. I tried to pen an entry while at work ... and my concentration skills were such that ...

I've started so many entries in the past few days and have been unable to finish them. I got pretty far in the last one, but it will require a heavy edit before I can make it public. My thoughts are a little disorganized and I'm being pushed and pulled in too many directions. It seems I can only write three sentences at a time before someone is in my ear and I have to offer polite attention. I am so tired, but at least my mind does not idle.

I walk alot. And although I'm drained by the end of the day, I enjoy my walks here and there because it's quiet time for me -- despite the din of the city. I like walking at night because it helps me feel closer to the city when it's just the two of us. Beijing and I. More or less alone. I look up at the starless sky and get vertigo. There are giants around me and I am so tiny as I weave in between them along her quiet streets.

I know that it's cold out. Maybe in the high 30s -- but it doesn't really feel cold to me. The wind plants roses in my cheeks, but at night, no one can see how pale and pink I am. And I can sing to myself when I go walking at night and nobody is around to care.

I'm a little alarmed by how not alarmed I am. I should be frantically trying to square away my living arrangements. I should be furiously trying to carve out my own little existence here. I should be feverishly intimidated by not being able to understand what anyone is saying to me -- even when it is in English.

But I'm not. In fact, I don't really feel much of anything right now except fatigue. I'm only slightly annoyed by some of the hurdles I'm facing -- no panties are bunched. I tell myself that it doesn't matter that I don't understand anything because, eventually, I will. And I suppose this is a nice, healthy attitude. I suppose this is the type approach I should take in all things. But I'm a little worried that this strange apathy belies some deeper culture shock that I'm just not recognizing within myself. Like when nerves send the wrong messages to the brain to avoid sensory overload. Is that what's going on now? Is this an emergency coping device that will subside in time and leave me sore and aching for familiarity? I don't really feel like that's the case but I'm sure that in due time, I'll feel shock apropos to the situation. When the honeymoon is over in about six-to-twelve weeks, I'll begin to get terribly homesick, then I'll comfort myself with food from the import store, get over it and be on my way. But at the moment, I can't honestly say I'm in a "honeymoon" phase. I just don't feel like that that's the kind of relationship I'll have with China. Perhaps it's because I have already made up my mind to come home in one year.

I know that I've said I refuse to make predictions that far into the future, but I know what is in my heart today. I'm going to have a fun here and learn so much, but my heart will not settle here. I will fall in love with some of the people here, though. They are one of the reasons why I was so eager to return.  And this strange-far away feeling that seems to makes me remember very clearly being a small child is still here, too.

I just wonder why I'm not freaking out.

On an unrelated note:
I'm so used to stream-of-consciousness rambles and have had to stop myself from going off on non-travel related tangents. Should I keep those things separate or should I ramble at will? I don't know. Not everything that goes on in my mind is sino-centric. In fact, my daydreams ... well, there's just lots that goes on in my noodle. I feel it's a dishonest portrayal to write only about China, but then I remind myself that this is my public travelblog and that I actually have to consider an audience now.

The night I arrived, during one of the many times I woke up, I somehow managed to poke myself in the eye. This was what I was dealing with when I woke up at 7 in order to meet an associate at 8. The pain was pretty harsh and the eye wouldn't stop watering, but throughout the day it came and went.

An intern, who goes by the anglicized name of Winslet, met me to whisk me off to a hospital in a remote area of Beijing. I was told to bring all my health documents, but was never told what to do with them. Hence, I underwent a physical examination that included all the things they asked me to do in the states. Yay. Later, I learned that if I had just presented all my documents to some person at one of the many counters, I would have avoided the whole mess.

The thing is, nobody is really telling me much of anything. So far, the most helpful person I've met is a colleague who has only been here three months ... and I didn't meet her until about 1800 last night.

Anyway, there were snow flurries in this remote area where the examination occurred, but that was all I've seen of snow, so far. It's actually warmer right now than it is in Houston. Go figure.

I was then taken to work. The Xinhua campus is pretty big -- like a small university or college. It's very impressive. If someone came to visit, I'd love to show them around, but all entrances are guarded and you need a badge to get in. Pretty tight security. Winslet showed me the multi-storied dining hall. Also, just like in college, I put credits on my badge and swipe it for anything I eat. Pretty handy. Winslet thought I might want Western food, which was one of the halls in the canteen. But the smell of all that meat was repulsive to me. We ate in the large Chinese dining hall. I had some tofu, rice and a sweet been-filled roll. WInslet treated me to some yougurt that was toxin-free. She told me about some of the other halls in the canteen -- one of which is a Muslim food hall she thought I'd enjoy. I'll likely try that soon.

Then it was off to work where I met two of my four colleagues and the chief editor for my section. I was shown a few ropes and immediately got to work. As is with any desk, there's alot of waiting around for copy. I was told to bring books. I can't really go into detail about some of the funny little things about this job I've discovered, but sufficed to say that as with any paper I've worked on -- there is a difference between what the publishers (in this case, the government) wants you to publish and what the workers want to publish.

And oh boy, the bureacracy.

My colleagues told me I'm getting scammed at the hotel. (I found out later with the help of a reporter I took down there that I'm not. They just required a "deposit" I'll get back at the end of my stay). And my colleagues grouse and grouse, so it's just like home, really.

The pain in my eye was intermittent. I found someone to take me down to the clinic on campus where my eye was examined and I was given antibiotic drops. How bout that? For all the red tape involved in every simple little thing, getting treatment for a health issue is the easiest thing in the world and costs nothing or next to it.

A supervisor tried to get me to take over the lease of a colleague who wants to move out of her unit. He took me to see her flat. The building is dismal but the unit itself isn't bad. I'm not letting him twist my arm, though. I'm going to review what I can and cannot do. This colleague, Gretchen, took me to Wal-mart to buy an adpater for my electronics. She also showed me around a bit, explained some things, etc. She's probably going to be my best resource here. Nobody really tells me anything. There are some really helpful and well-intentioned folks here, but the language barrier is a little too steep to climb over at this point. No hand holding here. If I wanted a way to learn about my own independence, I've found it. I'll definitely have to learn a little Mandarin to get by.

When I got back to my room, I went to bed much earlier than I had planned. My sleep is still off. This isn't helped by the fact that the government controls the heat. I suppose it's good because nobody is going to freeze to death. But damn ... it's freaking hot indoors. I've been sleeping with the window open (18 F at night but I don't feel it at all because it's THAT hot). It's a relief to go outside -- even if it is a little hazy.

I'm still not really nervous about anything, but I am pretty annoyed. I'm really flying blind. I don't know what I'm supposed to do next insofar as getting set up. Today, I don't really care. I'm sure that once things settle down, I'll be able to go off and explore a bit more. One step at a time.

(Note: My spellcheck seems to not be set up for some reason. I don't care right now. I'm not on the clock).

It's a little past 3 a.m. -- 1 p.m. at home.

I think it's a little funny I am awake. I was so exhausted after my flight that as soon I checked in and showered, I fell asleep for 8 hours. And that was all I needed I guess. It's funny because most of my life, I have been beleaguered by myriad sleeping problems -- the easiest and most common of which was a pretty serious tendency to live nocturnally. Since about early September, all those sleeping problems disappeared. I slept without incident for 6-8 hours every night in the months leading up to my departure. If I had just stayed all cattywonkas, I'd be in the right time zone now. Doesn't matter, really. It was worth it and I know I'll adapt quickly.

It was 41 F when I landed here. I was expecting it to be much cooler. Not that I'm complaining. Inside my little motel room, it is so stifingly hot that I have the window open. It's now 35 F out and I think it feels great.

Beijing looks different in the winter -- other than that, it's about like I remembered it.

The last time I was here, I stayed in a huge apartment with my parents. I think it may have been bigger than the house I grew up in. My motel right now -- and what I imagine my flat may look like once I find it -- is very small. Honestly, I kind of prefer it that way. It just seems more natural to me.

I'm not nervous at all. I think that's the important thing to comment on at this time. I really do feel very calm. And the city is calm, too. I can't believe how quiet it is.

Newark Airport, waiting for takeoff, 11;15 A.M. 12/8/2008

Yesterday I was sad and anxious and worried about everyone and everything and doubting this move. And this morning, bees built hives in my stomach. But as soon as I passed through the airport security gates, all that dissolved and my resolve and determination returned.

Of course I’m still nervous – but my feeling is less “what I have I done” and more “I’m doing it.”

I've got this. I've so got this. I’ve got some tough realities to face now. There is so much going on with the people I love that is beyond my control – and I know that in my absence, there will be even more trials. But all these things are going to happen regardless of where I live. I may not be there to hold my friends' and families' hands as they experience these hardships, but I am still here for them no matter what. Just a phone call away.

I am forcing myself to trust that all things will work out, that all is full of love, that the there is wonder in this world, even if some of those wonders bring sorrow. I now strive to unite my spirit with the cogs of life and just go with it.

I can do this.

Today I am trying to straighten up homebase, i.e., the room at my folks' place that I go back to between these transitions of mine. Olly olly oxen free. Each time I do, it seems I find myself getting rid of more and more unnecessaries (though there are few deposits along the way). It's kind of a strange process: The more times you move the more you learn you can live without.

But right now, as I breathe deep warm, wet and salty air, I wonder: How much can I really live without? If I could get away with it (and I might) I'd pack only one suitcase and forever travel lightly. But what about ...

I know my friends and family will always be here for me, and I'll always have a place to rest my head, but will it be the same in a year? Two? Three? I am missing at least three weddings, probably some new additions, some standard-issue-life-goes-on type happenings and it makes me think about how much I'll miss.

(Like this weather. Geez. I never thought I'd love this 80 F, wet December so much).

(Note to new readers: I write nearly daily. (I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep it up when I move, but I'll try).  In recent months, all my entries are private. But now, I want to make an honest account of what is going on with me as opposed to only writing when things are exciting. I want to bare all here and write about all the wonderful fun stuff, as well as the culture shock and homesickness. The way I see it, it's ALL part of the adventure, even the not-so-pretty stuff. To leave any of it out would be to minimize the experience and I don't want to be superficial. So if you think I sound a little down from time to time, don't worry -- it's natural and temporary. As soon as I make a new discovery, I'll be back to my cheery self).

For the first time since this (this meaning the whole "moving to China" thing) began, I don't feel the slightest bit nervous. I did yesterday, and I may tomorrow, but right now I am entirely too busy to "feel" anything but fatigue. I also feel a little regret that I'm simply just not going to have enough time to visit with everyone.

But, as Brad put it, I'll be back in a year and many of my friends and family have gone that long or longer without hearing from me, so it's not that big of a deal. But the question in the back of my mind is: Will I really be back in a year? I know how these things work. Firstly, one year can't possibly be enough time to get to know Beijing, to explore China, to become passable in Mandarin, etc. Secondly, most ex-pats who do this kind of thing wind up extending their contracts ... it's kind of understood.

If you ask me today, I have two answers: 1. I can't and won't make predictions for next year. Anything can happen. 2. The way I feel today -- with all the things my heart wants -- I can only afford a year before it will be time to move onto my other dreams. 

I would say that I regret getting such a late start in life when it comes to chasing after things I want, but each experience has shaped me. If nothing else, floundering away my twenties lit the fire in the engine that drives me now. You really grow to appreciate the concept of "now or never" when you get a good long look at "never." It's pretty ugly.

Anyway, I'm running around trying to get all my ducks in a row and it is wearing me down. I'm very tired, but at least I am no longer paralyzed with anxiety.

I have posted a string of relevant journal entries for your consumption to help give you an idea of what has led up to my trip to China. Read -- or don't read -- at your leisure.

I look forward to sharing my experiences with you. Comments, feedback, good news and weather updates always welcome.

Wednesday, October 29th, 2008
8:17 am - fahrenheit

Every degree of fahrenheit lost adds to my anxiety.

This is really happening. In about a month, I'll be living somewhere else. I know it's a trifle thing to some, but I've never lived more than 25 miles away from my folks. Seven thousand miles is quite a leap for me.

Since I was about eight, all I did was dream of the day I'd leave my hometown ... see what else was out there for me. I almost cornered myself into a life where I was none of the things I promised myself I would be. I feel I've worked very hard to rectify that. I've overcome much, including myself. I am more ready for this than I have ever been.

There are still so many question marks. Nothing in this world is certain. But I am done with trying to predict the future. I've stopped trying to plan each course and have surrendered myself to the will of the wind. In doing so, I've become a more flexible -- and calm -- person.

But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous.  And I suppose that's all part of the adventure. In some ways, I feel like this is a test for which I have not properly studied. I know I really have to just trust myself on this one.

Thursday, October 2nd, 2008
3:12 pm - In a name

唐昕

Tang Xin

I think this might be my new name.


Saturday, September 27th, 2008
2:08 am - Lost in translation

Xinhua said that although they respect that I want to spend the holidays with my family, they're losing an editor in December and they need me to come early. I told them that the family issue was not my only concern ... that I needed that last month of American income in order to be able to afford the move. They responded, "Thanks for your understanding. We will forward the visa procedures after we are back on Oct. 6. Then we can fix the around time for your coming date.  "

Argh. I can't think about it tonight. My plate is entirely too full right now and all I want is a good night's rest. It's been a very rough week.

current music: Not a job – Elbow

Tuesday, August 19th, 2008
2:49 am - Happy

I wish there was an adequate way to convey all my excitement.

I just heard from my adopted sister, Phoebe. (Her real name is Fang Jun Wang. We will probably actually get to meet each other within the year. She is so sweet and wonderful to me -- and has been throughout this entire process. She is the the favorite student of my brother and sister). I am so happy to hear from her. From what I know, she is a beautiful person.

A concept I don't understand is the adopting of a new name to fit into my new culture. It is important to my new colleagues that they have a familiar name by which to address me. My family name will most likely be Tang (phonetically, it is the closest to my actual family name). My given name is up for grabs. The idea of choosing a new name is very strange to me. It's important enough to my adopted country that it is required on my work permit forms. There is so much I don't understand. I'd hate to choose an equivalent of the name, "Bertha" or worse ... the name of the biggest harlot in the biggest epic poem ... al'a Jezebel. On this matter, I will consult my sister. I like the name "lian" because it means "link," but I must first investigate that this is not an inappropriate nomenclature.

It will be strange ... choosing a new name, adopting a new culture, relinquishing my identity ( in part) for the greater good of my adopted culture.

I'll be strange. I'll be far away.

Friday, August 15th, 2008
11:03 am - Oh geez

It is way too soon for me to be getting nervous. I hope this is just a reaction to wrapping my head around things and that it will subside. There a buhjillion thoughts running around in my head about the kind preparations I need to make in the next few months.

Edit: When I think of the idea in itself, apart from logistical concerns, it is safe to say I am incredibly happy.

Tuesday August 12
11:08 am - what I didn't say

(portions deleted)

These are my thoughts this morning as I explain to myself why I couldn’t write about what really happened in China last year and why it is necessary for me to return. Unfortunately, it’s not something I can describe or explain. It was spiritually jarring. I became disconnected. I woke up. I felt great sorrow. I felt great joy. I began to better understand my role in this world, so far away from home. I was quiet, and let my heart be filled with the wonder and awe that China wanted to share with me. I don’t know what triggered any of this. I was, after all, merely a tourist. Maybe it was because I had never seen anything that ancient. Understanding the antiquity of this civilization put time into perspective. Put China’s culture into perspective. Maybe because I knew this place was as far away from my birthplace as I could be before I start heading back. And I mean that both physically and temporally. I had this faraway homesick feeling (but not for my literal home). When I was there, I remembered August, when I was five, when I understood more about life than I do now. And I understood that in the morning, I would go to school, I would grow older, I would unlearn the important things that I knew then. And I knew it was what I had to do, so I did it with a happy heart. I climbed up on a tree stump. It was late afternoon; the sun surrounded me in golden light. And I jumped off with my arms spread out. And that was the happiest and strangest moment of my life. I felt echoes of that feeling in China. I knew I had to get that feeling back. I know that it wasn’t completely tied to the place, itself. But something there shook me. It made me sad in a beautiful way.

The symbols and the colors spoke to me, there. I didn’t understand the pictorial stories about what seemed to be a union between the dragon and the phoenix. I didn’t understand the stories that seemed to tell me about battles being a necessary blood letting of the earth so that she would be fertile for the sky’s seed. I don’t know what any of it meant, but it stirred me. The drums, the bells, the ancient scripts. It was strange to be in a place that was so bustling and chaotic in the streets, but behind walls was so quiet and peaceful. And behind the walls of lamaseries and temples, my soul was stilled by the sound of prayer bells.

I don’t know what it was about the place. Maybe it wasn’t the place at all, but the timing. Everything hitting me at once. A sudden understanding of the punchline of a joke I didn’t get before. The place I was when I knew that I could never see the world the same way I had seen it before.

I was entirely too self-absorbed in Japan. The experience had a profound impact on me, giving me the first taste of real exploration, but I did not let it speak to me the correct way. I was not ready. I was not calm. I cheated myself out of the fullness of Japan. I could not see the thing in itself.

I will not make that mistake again.

Friday August 8
1:58 am - Pinyin

I am beginning to understand the limitations of pinyin. I'm a little daunted by the idea of learning hanzi, but I understand I'm not really going to "get it" until I do. I feel very much like a five-year old as I start to recognize and retain new characters. But the characters are representations of very simple nature things, like north, west, east, south, mountain, river, flower and so on. The difference between being a five year-old and learning to read in English was that at least I had been practicing speaking English for four years. I understand the value in learning to speak before learning to read, but Pinyin will only carry me so far. I'm disheartened that, unlike languages that are more related to my own, it will be next to impossible to become fully fluent given that I'm only now beginning to learn.

The good news is that I'm totally stoked by A)learning new things B)language.

X. wrote me saying they are all very busy with the Olympics and are hoping to reach a decision by next week. As for me, I have reached my own and am feeling much more settled into the idea than I was a month ago.


Tuesday, July 29th, 2008
8:31 am - approaching zero

I am approaching the limits of what I can handle, but am beginning to realize I will never actually reach that limit. There is always more I can handle. My psyche is a whole number that can divided over and over again. I remember rambling about this idea two years ago, when either by election or by circumstance, more and more stress was heaped upon my pile. I remember how I turned into a zombie. Numb and moving through my days as if in a dream.

There are some parallels between then and now, I suppose, but things are different now. Those were not my best days. I was still wobbly on my legs. Not like today.

I've been squirming underneath this thing since May. It is now almost August. I still don't have a resolution, but pattern has taught me that I usually hear something at about 1 a.m. Wednesday mornings. I am hoping to hear a final word one way or another by this time tomorrow -- but I don't know that for sure. Three months is a long time to live in limbo and I'm finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate anything else.

I'm trying to prepare myself for either outcome and both are very stressful to me. The upshot of this drawn-out ordeal is that I've had to cement my feelings on a few different issues. Positive things have already come out of this: I had to figure out what I wanted.

If the answer is no, then I will see it as an opportunity to save up money so that I'll be better financially prepared to try again next year. And I will get it next year. And if I don't, I'll do something just as outrageous. I love living in Houston proper, but I am still restless. And there is still a great big world out there for me to play in. (But the first thing I'm gonna do is go take a three-day weekend somewhere and relax).

If the answer is yes, well ... I've got a very difficult couple of months ahead of me, but at least I move forward with more singularity ... a better defined purpose. I will most definitely have to burn some bridges, and that will be pretty darned tough, but I know that the opportunity will create it's own bridges. I admit I have some convoluted expectations, but I trust that things will work themselves out. .... And hey, free room and board in Beijing for the bridges that are left standing.

This is my morning pep talk as I try to be even the tiniest bit productive in the next 24 hours. I really do hope the answer comes by then. Even if I am scared of it either way.

I am calm. I am ready. (I am trying to convince myself).

Wednesday July 23
1:15 am - well ...

Dear Jennifer,

I am glad to inform you that you have been selected as one of the last four candidates for this position. We are making the final assessments and preparing for the paperwork to forward the recruitment procedure and get the final permit.

As I mentioned, I need two recommendation letters from your colleagues or professors for our file. Please send them to me by email . Thanks!

Li Wei

Friday, July 11th, 2008
9:43 am - dynamo on a roller coaster

Just when I settle my resolve ... just when I prepare to sit and wait, this happens:

Ch. writes back and asks me for the kind of materials one needs for a work permit in addition to two letters of recommendation. She goes on to explain what will happen (bureaucratically) if I am chosen. The missive closes with information about lodging and accommodations.

... ok ....

(Summary of portions deleted: I discuss how I like my new job and the doors I thought it could open. It pretty much sounded too good to be true and in the end, I was not at all sad to leave it).

....

I'd say that I just want a resolution to this chapter. I kind of want some outside circumstance to force me down one path or another ... but I know better than that. The biggest adventure will be in making the choice, one way or another, and then living with the consequences. It's all up to me now and I am aware of that. No more flitting along. No more waiting. I choose my own adventures from here on out.

Be careful what you ask for ... :)



Thursday, July 10th, 2008
9:47 am - dream

I dreamt of a trans-Siberian train ride.


Wednesday June 25
8:19 am

My interview with Xinhua in California is July 7.

I knew I would hear from the yesterday because that was the day I determined I would go chasing after it. I had planned on e-mailing them when I got home. It occurred to me that I was ready. Anxious and worried and ... all these mixed emotions ... but ready. I think I had to get to a point to where I was feeling that before the logistics would fall into place. But of course, no sooner had I decided this, the phone range and I spoke with a Mr. Dabo Yu.

A storm roused me from sleep this morning, thereupon calling attention to what I was dreaming at that second. Either my subconscious is getting tired of chewing on this whole thing and is just phoning in the dreams or I have become self-aware enough that my subconscious doesn't feel the need to mask things in obscure analogies. Either way, it's a little narcissistic, I'm sure. But the different factions of me have learned how to communicate with each other openly and without all the fanfare, I suppose.

In my dream I was sitting crosslegged across from myself, nervously picking at blades of grass. The other me was petting a cat. I was asking myself questions like, "What about financially ... can I pull it off and be ok? What about a job when I get home? Who knows what the economy will look like in a year and you're probably not coming back to Houston, are you? What about my brother?"

The other me was very calm, "I told you, you will work it out. You might not come home at all. Maybe you will. Maybe not. Worry about that when it happens. Everything will be alright. We've been over this already. You said you wanted this. You got it. Continue to nurture the peace within your soul."

"Ok. I'm sorry. I know this getting old. I sound like a broken record."

"It's ok, Jenny. This is a big step. Your life will be different. It's okay to be nervous. But do me a favor and just relax. I'm tired of talking. I need to sleep for awhile."

Saturday, June 21st, 2008
4:10 pm - huh

I think I had the weirdest conversation ever last night. It was hard to hear everything over the din, so maybe things were misconstrued.

My acquaintance lived and worked in China for awhile and I was picking his brain about it.

Rick: What do you want out of this?
Me: Culture and language exchange.
Rick: Sure. Sure. But what do you want? Because you can have whatever you want when you're in Beijing.
Me: I don't really need anything.
Rick: (leans in conspiratorially) but what ... or who do you like? You can pick. Western girls aren't really attracted to Asian men ... I'm just letting you know, you won't be limited in your choices. So what do you want?
Me: Russians?
Rick: Yeah, I can tell you were to go to get that.


Monday, June 16th, 2008
7:29 am - oh sh**

Should I go ahead and buy Mandarin language books now?


Tuesday, June 3rd, 2008
11:29 am - Let it rain, let it pour

I applied to this job at the beginning of the month:

http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2008-04/17/content_7996756.htm

Basically, this is for China's Reuters service. They need an English editor with my skillset and life experience. And they have responded back to me. Twice. It means a move to Beijing and the chance of a lifetime. This would be especially beneficial to my plans to apply to a graduate program for linguistics.

But what of the plans that I'm already making? The plans that all culminated three days ago? So ... in addendum to my last post: A lot can happen in three freaking days.

Before I get too worked up, here's the caveat: I am to take an editing test tonight. Then I'm sure that will put me in the next pool of candidates. (Considering the amount of applications they said they received, and considering they're asking me to take this test ... I know I'm in the running). If after that I am selected, knowing China, there will be a whole lot of red tape to cut through. The process could take quite some time.

So ...

If you decide to put off signing a lease until you have more facts, turn to page 23. If you decide to move forward with your plans, turn to page 42.


Saturday, September 1st, 2007
8:16 am - All the tea in China

Afterthought: I think it's the jasmine tea. It makes my life so much better.

茉莉花茶 = Best thing ever

Thursday, August 23rd, 2007
1:39 pm - Let's dance

If I wasn't hitherto convinced, I am now: Dance IS a universal language. Smiles and dancing. Something everyone understands.

Brits, Scots, Irish, Americans, Spanish, Brazilians, Russians, Indians, many Africans, and of course, Chinese ... we all communally shook booty on the dance floor. It was better than U.N. Truly, it was.

The ex-pat hangout.

I got invitations to visit everywhere from Nagasaki to Nebraska. Freeking awesome.

Anyway... I'm all rambly rambly. I just wanted to document the awesomeness of collective groove thang. It was a nice note to end on. I'll leave  Beijing in about 12ish hours. Maybe I'll come back. Lately, I've had this streak of collecting job offers wherever I go -- and the past year has definitely been one of going places. Perhaps I'll actually act one of these offers. We'll see.

For now, I'm just happy to shake booty all over the world.


Friday, August 17th, 2007
10:08 pm - beijing haiku no. 4 

walk these streets alone
hide within the writhing mass
no one gives a damn

Sometimes loneliness is something we choose. I know no better way to be alone than to disappear on some far away city street and become anonymous. I like to let my footsteps chase thoughts that are as far away as I am. I just disappear.

I could never do that at home ... wherever that is.

Tuesday, August 14th, 2007
9:29 pm - a big country

Things about which I need to write entries soon:

Climbing The Great Wall and my continued triumph over the fear of crowds
Fitness parks
spitting ordinances
National night out every night (with dogs!)
The big park (kites, frisbees, skating, no shinny and tress from which I wish I could bound ala Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon)
Gyoza!
split pants?
My obsession with Chingrish aka Engrish and my newest shirt celebrating it.
A dream about about teleportation and Ebay
The strangeness of relative proximity

I just want a little more time to mold words around my thoughts of these things. I also have a spottyish interwebby connection. I also have limited private time with the puter.

Please hold me accountable for writing about the above things (even if I choose to keep some of them private).

Sunday, August 12th, 2007
8:01 am - Beijing is big

Really, really big. And there are 16 million people here. I may have seen most of them. Everything is very exciting and nothing's shocking. People are very very curious and not at all shy -- to the point where we keep getting stopped so that they can take pictures of themselves with us. People are also very ... people-ish. Staring is not uncommon, neither is pointing. Men walk around shirtless or with shirts pulled up over ample bellies. Women lounge in unladylike poses on benches. Benches are everywhere and people are sitting on them everywhere. The streets are full of people doing nothing. Trees are nap centers. There may be several people napping beneath them.

I think it's a little telling that the first word I've learned that really sticks in my brain and for which I quickly recognize the hànzì is "wang ba." It means Internet Cafe. Hello my name is Jenny and I am an Internet addict.

Anyway, the connection here is spotty at best, so I'll keep this entry short and save load the photobucket up when I get home.

Today I went to the Forbidden City. It was very beautiful. We trekked some 10 odd miles in heat that rivals Houston in August. (I didn't mind it so much). The Mao-soleum is across the street as is the Tianamen square and the People's Monument. It's very strange to see these landmarks down the street from Saks Fifth Avenue and Tiffany's Co. But it was amazing to see all the people bustling about.

I was surprised by the presence of Subway and Hooters. I was excited by the discovery of a Yoshinoya. I was just plain baffled by the Dairy Queen.

Fruit is plentiful and delicious. I ate a giant peach that had crispy, white meat.

Also, I suppose, now that I have more than one example, it's not that I have whacky sleep patterns or that I'm nocturnal. I'm simply just living in the wrong part of the world. I woke up easily with the sun this morning and will be winding down by around 10 or 11. See, here I'm normal.

August 15, 2007 - Wednesday

the smell and the fury I have so much about which I want to tell you guys, but the time I get on the net is limited and frustrating. I think I may have to pull out my paper journal and scribble some thoughts down so that they don't fade away on me like they have before. But I did want to mention this: It's very strange what you can get used to. I never thought I would acclimate to the smell of BO. Now of course, there are those persons whose chemistries are just too potent to not gag, but for the most part, I am accustomed. It's very hot here and there are millions of people whose hygiene practices are just different from ours. No big deal. You really do get over it pretty quickly. And you kind of have to just to get by. Beijing is crowded. I thought parts of Japan were crowded. That was stroll in the park compared to the crush of the crowd here. There was a time when such a circumstance would have sent me reeling into a full-on anxiety attack. I had problems going to shows or concerts were there were too many people. Christmas shopping made me break out in hives. I really do credit my experiences in Japan for getting me over it. Although it was constantly crowded, I never once felt that I was in any danger there. Japan really is the safest country in the world. You just get over some things by facing them head on. China, on the other hand, is nothing at all like Japan. Crowds are aggressive and -- if you're not paying attention -- potentially threatening. But I just march right through them now. Unphased by the smells of strangers, oblivious to the skin-to-skin contact with so many hundreds of different people. I am just one of them, moving from one place to another like water through a channel. We're just people. Lots of people. Great Wall and Temple of Heaven blogs to come later. Love ya lotses!