One of the allotments for the assignment in China is a car and a driver. Depending on your view this could be a perk or a penalty. No longer do I have the freedom to dart in and out of traffic with my radio blaring and the sunroof open as I scream along to whatever song fits my mood. But, no longer am I responsible for battling traffic, worrying about speeding tickets, or pumping gas in the rain.
That's all Mr. Zhen's job now.
Mr Zhen is the local Nanjinger assigned to be my driver. We're currently cruising around town in a bright red Focus hatchback. He takes his job incredibly seriously, and despite his questionable attachment to his horn, he does a great job.
When I came on my pre-assignment trip, I met a woman who explained that the driver just drives your car. He's not your chauffer; he is not your errand boy. He drives you where you need to go, then waits, and drives you back home.
Not Mr. Zhen. He opens my car door for me everytime I get in. He makes sure the car sparkles and shines. And he makes sure I am never late to work, despite my repeated efforts to convince him that it's fine for me to come in after 8:30AM. On those mornings when I am truly behind schedule, his horn gets an extreme workout.
Mr Zhen is willing to do almost anything for me, and each day, he baffles me more. Mr. Zhen has done more to make me happy than my last 5 boyfriends combined. It's his job. He quit smoking for me - at least while he's on duty. I advised him that he would lose his job if he kept smoking. Now, he keeps a bag of seeds or nuts with him in the car, and he chews a lot of gum. I've not seen or smelled a cigarette in almost a week.
Unlike most drivers, Mr. Zhen insists on coming grocery shopping with me. At first, I found it invasive to have someone following me pushing the cart, but he keeps me honest - my closeted eating habits do not allow me to buy chocolate when someone else is pushing the cart! For him, it has been explained, it is a source of pride - he is with an American woman and he is buying expensive items. On my first day, we went to Walmart, where I bought cleaning products, an iron, a hair dryer, and a phone. I was left to carry the cleaning products while he carried the tower of appliances that was tied with a bright red ribbon at the store.
Mr Zhen and I did not speak for the first 3 days. Anytime I wanted to go somewhere, he would call the realtor who would translate for us. Slowly, we devised a system to communicate, and it has been working. I write down the times I want to see him next, and how many hours I expect to be gone. He texts me from his phone which translates his words into English for me. We use my picture dictionary to find the hard things (plastic bags, a fan), and we use the guidebooks/maps to get me close to the bars and restaurants on my list. It's working.
In addition to pushing my cart, Mr. Zhen has my back at the grocery store. He handles the produce purchase process (so different from the US), and he makes sure the price is right. He always makes sure there are bags in the car, and he carries them up to my apartment. He takes me to out of the way restaurants for the things I want (wonton, dim sum), and he'll even go to the store without me for certain things, like my Starbucks frappucino addiction.
I adore Mr. Zhen.
Yesterday, when he picked me up, I showed him my broken shoe. He said "ok, ok" and I got in the car, and off we went to a store called Auchen. It's like Meijer or Target, Chinese style. We got out, and he took my two shoes in his hand, and started off. We went to the shoe repair section where the woman fixed my buckle for 3 RMB - the equivalent of $0.40. When we finished, Mr. Zhen carried my shoes out to the car. I was not allowed to carry them - it was his job to put his fingers in my heels. I can't be sure, but I don't think my mother even does that when she's cleaning up the shoe-littered floor!
Today, though, Mr. Zhen made me teary-eyed twice. First, he dropped me off at 6:10PM, and he left with a note to pick me up at 18:50 to go to dinner. At 6:55 he showed up, apologizing for his tardiness (ironic, since I kept him waiting 40 minutes today at work). He was late because he had gone to buy an English/Chinese dictionary. He was practicing, "eighteen fifty". We practiced in English and in Chinese (shi ba; wu shi). I was so touched that he would try so hard to make my life easier. In his country!
When I got into the car after dinner, he handed me a skewer of 3 chicken hearts or livers or something. I know it was chicken because of the arm flapping he was doing (he so OWNS the Funky Chicken dance!). I just wasn't sure which internal organ I was about to consume. I couldn't insult him and not eat, so I pulled, bit and swallowed before my nose and mouth realized what happened.
I was so touched by his gesture.... I just hope we're not married now...
Monday, May 30, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Harley's Story - a Pit bull moves to China
Lots of people warned me about bringing a dog to China. I had heard all of the jokes about his being invited to dinner, and I'd been warned of the general fear of big dogs. But I still wasn't prepared for it.
Harley is my 9 year old pitty. Lumps, as I call him, is about as viscious as the sofa that bears his butt print. He thinks he's a person and expects to be treated as such. I think he thinks he is European. He greets everyone with a kiss on the mouth and a groping.
Last Friday, I got on a plane to China. Harley stayed behind with Uncle Brian until his flight the following Tuesday. I was a basket case. Not because of Brian - he's amazing - but because of the flight. Harley has more frequent flyer miles than most people, but they were short trips - NY to MI. This was 14 hours, then quarantine!
On Wednesday night, I got the call that he had arrived in Shanghai safely (accomplishments 1-100 -- a FANTASTIC day!) and was in quarantine. Quarantine here is strange; it is dictated by the city in which the dog arrives. Shanghai's quarantine is 1 week; Beijing's is a month. However, Shanghai's can be reduced to 1 day if the dog's owner is already in the country and about $500 in cash is exchanged.
The men who delivered him were terrified as he ran past them. The security guard rode off about 100 yards on his bike.
I understood right then that I was doomed to be the crazy American.
In the few days since, I've had women scoop up their toddlers as Harley and I walk by, and one man even got out of the elevator when he saw we were going to join him. People stop, stare, and point.
But then there are those who are fascinated by him, and by me, the crazy person on the other end of the leash. I'm determined to show them how lovable and friendly and happy Harley is. I want them to see he doesn't need to be feared because of his size or breed.
I brought him to the gatehouse on Friday to meet Mr Zheng, our driver. If he is not comfortable with Harley, he may have to be replaced. What ensued was bordering on Oscar-worthy, as cultures merged and everyone learned a little something. Harley and I walked out of the gate where Mr Zheng and the security guard were talking. I said "ta jiao Harley" - he is called Harley. They both repeated Hah-lee. Progress. I then told Harley to sit. They made sounds that I took to mean "impressive, she can make the beast sit on command". Harley stood up again to sniff these new people, and Mr Zheng said, "Hah-lee sit". And Harley sat. Laughter ensued - they too had control over the beast. Both men then started to pet him tentatively. He did not move, except to give them better access to his chin. They then crouched down to pet him better and to examine him closer.
That's when Harley assumed they were ready to be kissed. The security guard was first. Harley lunged forward to kiss him, and the man jumped 12 feet in the air. Mr Zheng, watching this, jumped back 5 feet to the safety of the car.
I sat there and laughed. Once they saw that I was laughing, they laughed. And when they saw Harley lean in to kiss me instead, they understood he was not looking for a Chinese lunch.
Baby steps...little cultural baby steps to bridge the gap. The security guard smiles and waves at us now when we go for a walk, and he tells others about Harley when we walk by. And my neighbor, well, he allowed Harley and I to join him in the elevator this morning. And when Harley sat, he smiled at me and said something that I took to mean, "hmmm, big dog is not so bad after all".
Harley is my 9 year old pitty. Lumps, as I call him, is about as viscious as the sofa that bears his butt print. He thinks he's a person and expects to be treated as such. I think he thinks he is European. He greets everyone with a kiss on the mouth and a groping.
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| Last day in his yard in MI |
On Wednesday night, I got the call that he had arrived in Shanghai safely (accomplishments 1-100 -- a FANTASTIC day!) and was in quarantine. Quarantine here is strange; it is dictated by the city in which the dog arrives. Shanghai's quarantine is 1 week; Beijing's is a month. However, Shanghai's can be reduced to 1 day if the dog's owner is already in the country and about $500 in cash is exchanged.
The company forked over the cash, and my baby was delivered safely on Thursday night. He was, to put it kindly, bijiggity. He was in a crate for the better part of 3 days. He was tired, scared, and confused. He jumped out of the crate, slobbered on me, knocked me over, and raced to a bush.
The men who delivered him were terrified as he ran past them. The security guard rode off about 100 yards on his bike.
I understood right then that I was doomed to be the crazy American.
In the few days since, I've had women scoop up their toddlers as Harley and I walk by, and one man even got out of the elevator when he saw we were going to join him. People stop, stare, and point.
But then there are those who are fascinated by him, and by me, the crazy person on the other end of the leash. I'm determined to show them how lovable and friendly and happy Harley is. I want them to see he doesn't need to be feared because of his size or breed.
I brought him to the gatehouse on Friday to meet Mr Zheng, our driver. If he is not comfortable with Harley, he may have to be replaced. What ensued was bordering on Oscar-worthy, as cultures merged and everyone learned a little something. Harley and I walked out of the gate where Mr Zheng and the security guard were talking. I said "ta jiao Harley" - he is called Harley. They both repeated Hah-lee. Progress. I then told Harley to sit. They made sounds that I took to mean "impressive, she can make the beast sit on command". Harley stood up again to sniff these new people, and Mr Zheng said, "Hah-lee sit". And Harley sat. Laughter ensued - they too had control over the beast. Both men then started to pet him tentatively. He did not move, except to give them better access to his chin. They then crouched down to pet him better and to examine him closer.
That's when Harley assumed they were ready to be kissed. The security guard was first. Harley lunged forward to kiss him, and the man jumped 12 feet in the air. Mr Zheng, watching this, jumped back 5 feet to the safety of the car.
I sat there and laughed. Once they saw that I was laughing, they laughed. And when they saw Harley lean in to kiss me instead, they understood he was not looking for a Chinese lunch.
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| Harley's first night in his new Chinese home |
The Definition of a Great Day in China
After 5 months of planning and packing, and 2 weeks of insomnia and heartwrenching farewells, I got on a plane last week to move to Nanjing, China.
Why Nanjing? It is where my company's Chinese headquarters are located. Nanjing is somewhat south-central, and quite close to Shanghai. It was the former capital of the country, and still has the protective city wall intact. There are parks and lakes everywhere, and it is considered one of China's safest cities. It's also on the small size - only ~10M people. ONLY!
I arrived on a Saturday night, with the wisdom of my friend, Carol, ringing in my ear: Everything takes longer to do in China. If you get 2 things accomplished, it's a good day. If you get 3 things done, it's a great one. I was determined to be happy with good days, and to savor the great ones. For someone with NO patience, this was going to be a feat of epic proportions, but I chose this - it's not a death sentence, so I had to accept and adjust.
The flights were on time (accomplishment #1), a driver was waiting (#2), and my apartment was ready (#3). Great Day by China standards. After that, I laughed at the events of the night. The apartment was a sauna - the air conditioning wasn't working, and China is a wee hot this time of year. I had no sheets, so I had to use drop clothes as bedding the first night, and my landlady opted not to provide a key for the mailbox. All manageable.
It was the oxygen unit that set me over the edge, doubled over in fits of laughter, and reminding me that sleep was critical if I was going to function here. When I came to visit the apartment, it was still being constructed. In one of the bedrooms, there was a giant box marked "wall oxygen unit". I asked if it was an air purifier, and all heads nodded, yes - for clean air. It was negotiated into the contract, and all was good.
About 5 days before I arrived, my realtor advised that the landlady wanted the oxygen unit for her mother. I advised that she would have to replace it - clearly, clean air was important to me, too. We went back and forth for a while, but in the end I won. I would have a new air purifier.
But, when I got here and saw the box marked "portable oxygen unit", I said hmmm. So I opened the lid, and saw the mask. And the tubes. And the tank. Clearly, NOT an air purifier...not even close. If I was opening an air bar, it'd be awesome, but since I just want to not breathe in China dust, it was a little extreme.
The realtor was so confused. She's so used to getting strange requests from Americans that she didn't see a reason to question why I was so adament to have an oxygen tank. I, clearly, learned that it is important to truly make sure people understand what I mean when I say something.
The rest of the week was a lot like that. It took days and hours to get a phone established, internet working, and shopping completed. After 1 week in, I'm still unable to connect the Ooma phone and the wireless router, but I am at least able to stay connected somewhat.
The rest will unfold in later posts. China is a remarkable place - I can't wait to be settled so I can comfortably go exploring!
Why Nanjing? It is where my company's Chinese headquarters are located. Nanjing is somewhat south-central, and quite close to Shanghai. It was the former capital of the country, and still has the protective city wall intact. There are parks and lakes everywhere, and it is considered one of China's safest cities. It's also on the small size - only ~10M people. ONLY!
I arrived on a Saturday night, with the wisdom of my friend, Carol, ringing in my ear: Everything takes longer to do in China. If you get 2 things accomplished, it's a good day. If you get 3 things done, it's a great one. I was determined to be happy with good days, and to savor the great ones. For someone with NO patience, this was going to be a feat of epic proportions, but I chose this - it's not a death sentence, so I had to accept and adjust.
The flights were on time (accomplishment #1), a driver was waiting (#2), and my apartment was ready (#3). Great Day by China standards. After that, I laughed at the events of the night. The apartment was a sauna - the air conditioning wasn't working, and China is a wee hot this time of year. I had no sheets, so I had to use drop clothes as bedding the first night, and my landlady opted not to provide a key for the mailbox. All manageable.
It was the oxygen unit that set me over the edge, doubled over in fits of laughter, and reminding me that sleep was critical if I was going to function here. When I came to visit the apartment, it was still being constructed. In one of the bedrooms, there was a giant box marked "wall oxygen unit". I asked if it was an air purifier, and all heads nodded, yes - for clean air. It was negotiated into the contract, and all was good.
About 5 days before I arrived, my realtor advised that the landlady wanted the oxygen unit for her mother. I advised that she would have to replace it - clearly, clean air was important to me, too. We went back and forth for a while, but in the end I won. I would have a new air purifier.
But, when I got here and saw the box marked "portable oxygen unit", I said hmmm. So I opened the lid, and saw the mask. And the tubes. And the tank. Clearly, NOT an air purifier...not even close. If I was opening an air bar, it'd be awesome, but since I just want to not breathe in China dust, it was a little extreme.
The realtor was so confused. She's so used to getting strange requests from Americans that she didn't see a reason to question why I was so adament to have an oxygen tank. I, clearly, learned that it is important to truly make sure people understand what I mean when I say something.
The rest of the week was a lot like that. It took days and hours to get a phone established, internet working, and shopping completed. After 1 week in, I'm still unable to connect the Ooma phone and the wireless router, but I am at least able to stay connected somewhat.
The rest will unfold in later posts. China is a remarkable place - I can't wait to be settled so I can comfortably go exploring!
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