To those who do not play piano all day long,
So the piano wars between my mysterious Chinese neighbors and I have reached a new level of animosity this past week as I brought in a new super-weapon that has wreaked havoc on my adversaries and now the Americans are defeating the piano-playing Chinamen. My super-weapon's power has developed into a true Gettysburg turning-point of the war. Or you could find an even more accurate similarity between the 1980 Soviet vs. Afghanistan War where at first the Afghans were getting cut to pieces by Soviet war planes and choppers; however, the tribal Afghans were soon sent aircraft-destroying heat-seeking missiles that a single person could fire (from the United States of course) that easily destroyed the Russian low-flying planes and helicopters. This changed the balance of power in the conflict and lead to an Afghan victory...true story. Irony can be quite ironic because these same Afghan militiamen are those with which American troops are engaged in conflict in modern day.
When I first moved into my apartment I brought with me one iPod stereo which is loud enough to hold down a Baltimore ghetto street corner. So loud that I initially decided that it was too loud for the paper thin walls between my apartment and the next, and I have had it stored under my bed for well over a year now. Nevertheless, as the Piano Wars have become official I have been forced to arm myself with the most ferocious/annoying instrument of eardrum shattering nausea that I have available...so the iPod stereo was recently dusted off and prepared for battle.
In China most people have a 'me-first' mentality and do not care much about those around them, and I have seriously tried not to embody this belief which I believe to be wrong. Unlike Chinese, I do not: spit on the street; cough all of the time without covering my mouth; sing "Lady Gaga" songs out loud like the metrosexual Chinamen at my gym; I don't throw trash everywhere; nor do I steal the taxis of old people or women with babies. Furthermore, I still hold doors open for people; tip on occasion (although much less than 18%); and try to help somebody if they are in need. I have been told that most of the people in China come from outside cities and villages and therefore they don't view the Beijing people as being their own; therefore, there is no kinship between most people. Or at least people that you see walking down the street. In terms of my apartment: nobody talks to one another and everybody seems to believe that they have carte blanche to be as annoying as they want. People sing late at night; jump up and down in apartments that have people living underneath; and of course...play the F%*&^ing PIANO all day long with no rhyme or rhythm. Until now I have tried to be different, but a man can only stay humble and true for so long before breaking...and I have quite simply, had enough with this bullshit!
I have spent the last few weeks downloading the loudest, most hardcore rap songs created in the last fifteen years; and a fine compilation of: Tupac, Master P, Nelly, Lil' Wayne, Warren G, and any other rapper who is willing to fight the good fight against my Chinese adversaries has been recruited from Compton, to New Orleans, and all the way to Queens. The Chinese didn't know what hit them....
One day at around 6PM I came back from a long of day of work to hear the "ping-pang-ping-pinging" of Chinese fingers hitting the wrong keys at the wrong time on the wrong song to create what most would call 'musical gibberish'. I waited for the right moment to strike as I placed my iPod stereo as close as possible to the wall and loaded it up with a rap megastorm of pain lead by Master P's true genius song "Make Em' Say Uhhh". By the third chorus the Chinese family/small village that is living next door started banging against the wall and screaming for me to stop like their house was on fire. Nevertheless, I made it rain for hours. I even went out and grabbed a coffee and left the music on full-blast to come back to an apartment where my neighbors were still banging on the walls for me to stop the rap rage referendum and let them continue their pursuit of piano happiness. I kept it going until about midnight.
The Chinese piano playing village next door probably thought this was a one-time occurrence but they were of course wrong because my rap warriors would came back again the next night, and the next night, and the next night after that. Until I changed my tactics to reinforce my disgust with their poor piano-playing by only blasting rap music when I would hear the piano. If the piano playing stopped the music stopped. They soon got the point. Since I have rarely heard the piano over the last few days; although, I hear a whole lot of the olde man yelling and screaming next door in a fit of rage that his piano super-school has been vanquished by the Western capitalist pigs.
The one fear that I have is that the old "Chinese Neighborhood Protector" group is gong to one day slit my throat. The old people in the surrounding apartments who have been retired for multiple decades have literally nothing to do all day. They have taken over the bulk of the territory around the school and the Chinese government pays them pensions (even though unlike our pension system they didn't actually have to put anything in...so it is a good deal for them). It's strange but the elderly may be the biggest demographic at many Chinese universities, because from the 1970's until recently they were all given free on-campus housing for life at most school in mainland China. Since real estate prices are too high they don't won't move out of their university homes, and the universities are too cheap to pay them to. My neighbors have created some sort of civilian militia in which they all wear red sashes around their right arms that literally say "Chinese Neighborhood Protector". I would bet dollars to donuts that the olde piano king is part of the militia. I get this eerie sense every time I walk outside while getting mad-dogged by the red-sashed gang of seniors that something bad is going to happen. Maybe it is because they whisper in each other's ears and stare at me like I'm an albino panda that has murdered their brother and must die...equal parts animosity and mystery are coming from the senior gang. I am pretty positive that they hate me.
However, at least I am comforted by the sense of calm knowing that I no longer have to deal with the piano torture tool all day every day. Hopefully this will be the end of the Piano Wars. I would like to get back to blogging about my classes and how I have named students Wombat & Alf.
signing off in victory,
Master P's Number #1 Fan
P.S. I can hear the Olde Piano King screaming on the phone next door as I type this. He has used the word "laowai" which means stupid foreigner maybe twenty times in the last ten minutes. Score one for Uncle Sam...bitches.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Piano Wars
To the proud few that are still reading this blog... I salute you. I need to be saluted right now as I am in not of the best of moods"
I am currently writing this blog with the most annoying sounds ever heard by man pulsating through my eardrums. This is because my mysterious neighbors (I don't know know them because they are actually in a different building but we share a common wall) play what sounds like a grand piano all day and most of the night...and they play it horribly. Horribly would actually be compliment for the nauseating "ping-ping-ping-ping-pinging" which is always ringing into my never-peaceful domicile. What makes this situation ten times worse is that the common wall is next to my desk where I spend most of my time at; and the common wall happens to be about as thick as a piece of sandpaper. For the 18 months that I have lived in my apartment the piano-playing of my neighbors has not improved one iota. Their repertoire consists of three songs which are played again...................and again............and again.............and they are never played correctly. When old man river who I believe to be the man of the house is feeling frisky he will do some singing while somebody else does the playing.
Initially I thought that they were running some sort of a piano-playing school so I was able to understand why their piano-playing was so incredibly irritating. However, I am able to hear their voices as well, and if there were any sort of coaching/teaching I would hear it. Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that it is likely just this old couple trying to teach themselves how to play the piano; and that other family members take tries on their own at the piano death trap. Maybe they are blind? Or maybe they are running a social experiment to see how long it takes me to completely snap, and that the walls are actually see-through glass with a team of scientists watching my ever move? If that is the case...well they are close to the point of no return.
I have no idea how many people live in this apartment but my best guess would be five. Grandparents, parents, and one child; but I could be wrong. Most definitely there is an old man and a woman, and the old man's voice is the loudest and most obnoxious. You see the universities in China used to have a deal where the teachers were given housing if they taught for the university for a certain number of years; this was especially common during the 1970's after "The Cultural Revolution" when Mao Zedong had inspired the children to beat the crap out of their teachers and get rid of all the 'capitalist roaders' in society. What he really wanted the children to do was to help him retake power and get rid of all of his adversaries, which Mao was able to accomplish by using propaganda and destroying all education, religious artifacts, historical monuments, and anything of high value that had been an important part of the former society... all so he could become supreme leader again and continue to make poor decisions for the good of nobody. It's crazy to see Mao's face all over China these days when if you really know the history of things he was a bloodthirsty tyrant who is responsible for the greatest mass-starvation in the modern era and indirectly caused 50 million Chinese deaths...but that is another story. Chinese history books have literally omitted the time periods of 1959-1961 (Great Starvation) & 1966-1976 (Cultural Revolution); or shifted blame to others when it was really almost completely Mao's fault...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_Revolution
Anyways, during the 1970's it was hard to recruit teachers because they had previously been used as human pinatas by their students. Furthermore, many of these students (called "Red Guards" at the time) went on to prominent roles in government and were never punished; I can't imagine this sits well with the families of former teachers who were beaten, tortured, and executed for trying to teach Math Class. Therefore, the universities needed a humongous carrot to encourage teachers to go to universities like the one that I teach at is; so they decided that all teachers would be given free housing; furthermore, the teacher's were promised retirement payments which are similar to American pensions except you only receive money when you retire but don't have to put any money in...yes, it's a very good deal. Nowadays, there is an implicit understanding that teachers who are hired will have their jobs for a lifetime, and that they will be given free retirement money. Unfortunately, the housing has all been given out and it is utterly ridiculous to me because you have these red-brick buildings that are at least forty years olding all over the campus that take up way too much room and look atrocious.
Nowadays, with real estate prices at historical highs in China these retired teachers are permanent fixtures in all of the best Chinese universities. The different universities have tried to get them to relocated but with their friends on campus that they have literally known for fifty year, the teachers have have made it crystal clear that they aren't going anywhere. When they have tried the teachers have revolted, and they have taken over all of the best territories at the different universities and act like they own the school...which is annoying but understandable. I guess if you go through famines, revolutions, and other shenanigans you should certainly feel as if you are entitled to a good slice of life...and they take it!
Additionally, there are lots of really good schools around my neighborhood so it is common for the grandparents to have their children and even their grandchildren come live with them. These are not big apartments by the way: bedroom, living room, miniature bathroom, small kitchen, and an even smaller dining room; and all of the apartments are the same. In my building and the surrounding buildings almost every other apartment is occupied by at the very least five Chinese people (it's a good thing that they are so short). It is quite common to see parents pushing their parents in wheelchairs with the grandchild lurking around in the background peeing in public; in China children under the age of seven are given carte blanche to go the bathroom in public whether it be #1 or #2...it is terribly disgusting! I can't tell you how many times I have been walking to class and I have seen a Chinese father holding a piece of cardboard under his five year-old son who is dropping a deuce in public...stern! Oh and of course the Dad applauds after the son performs his miraculous feat; as if the son has scored a three-point shot in basketball.
So I try to spend as little time in my apartment as possible because I fear that I will "snap" one of these days; and on average every three months I come very close. I try to take my laptop and Kindle to different coffee shops so that I can get away from my neighbor's painful piano of doom; nevertheless, with Chinese weather being downright awful I sometimes get stuck at my desk with a ton of work to do. When the full moon is out this can create one of two possible outcomes: #1, a basketball toss at the wall from three-pointer to slam-dunk depending on my anger; #2, a medicine ball smash. Today, it was a #1 & #2 day! Now this is not something I am proud of as I try my best not to get caught into these situations in China. The olde Thadeus Claymore (my former self) would have been smashing the wall on a regular basis. Nevertheless, I am trying to get along with my Chinese brothers even though they annoy the hell out of me, but sometimes I just can't...
After today's wall smash my neighbors are acting like a bee hive that was kicked in by a professional futbol player. At first they were shocked, as if there was an earthquake or a bomb had exploded. Secondly, screams shouted and I heard lots of moving around like maybe they thought that the wall was coming down, and they were frantic to see who was injured. Finally, the screamings of anti-foreigner slang (I guess they have figured out that I am not a comrade) followed suit with olde man river acting like he was going to charge thru my front wall with a Chinese battalion and pick up where the Korean War left off.
As I type this my episode has been unfolding and olde man river is really yelling and cursing. He is probably two-feet tall and can't walk, but his voice is starting to scare me a little bit. It sounds like one of those old-school Kung Fu movies where the Mr. Miagi ragged olde man beats the shit out of the upstart punk. I wish I had an air horn right now or something that could really tilt the balance of power in my favor. But alas, I have no heavy artillery with which to take my warfare to the next level. Anyways, I'm gonna get the F%^& out of dodge for a bit and grab a coffee. I'll update my story next time I am on here unless the enemy gets to me first.
from the war room,
General Custer
P.S. I have continued my extraordinary tradition of giving my students ridiculous names, so far I have added these names to my list of extraordinary gentlemen/gentlewomen of China: Wombat, Alf, Grouse, Lars, Bettina, Xavier, Caesar the VI.
I am currently writing this blog with the most annoying sounds ever heard by man pulsating through my eardrums. This is because my mysterious neighbors (I don't know know them because they are actually in a different building but we share a common wall) play what sounds like a grand piano all day and most of the night...and they play it horribly. Horribly would actually be compliment for the nauseating "ping-ping-ping-ping-pinging" which is always ringing into my never-peaceful domicile. What makes this situation ten times worse is that the common wall is next to my desk where I spend most of my time at; and the common wall happens to be about as thick as a piece of sandpaper. For the 18 months that I have lived in my apartment the piano-playing of my neighbors has not improved one iota. Their repertoire consists of three songs which are played again...................and again............and again.............and they are never played correctly. When old man river who I believe to be the man of the house is feeling frisky he will do some singing while somebody else does the playing.
Initially I thought that they were running some sort of a piano-playing school so I was able to understand why their piano-playing was so incredibly irritating. However, I am able to hear their voices as well, and if there were any sort of coaching/teaching I would hear it. Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that it is likely just this old couple trying to teach themselves how to play the piano; and that other family members take tries on their own at the piano death trap. Maybe they are blind? Or maybe they are running a social experiment to see how long it takes me to completely snap, and that the walls are actually see-through glass with a team of scientists watching my ever move? If that is the case...well they are close to the point of no return.
I have no idea how many people live in this apartment but my best guess would be five. Grandparents, parents, and one child; but I could be wrong. Most definitely there is an old man and a woman, and the old man's voice is the loudest and most obnoxious. You see the universities in China used to have a deal where the teachers were given housing if they taught for the university for a certain number of years; this was especially common during the 1970's after "The Cultural Revolution" when Mao Zedong had inspired the children to beat the crap out of their teachers and get rid of all the 'capitalist roaders' in society. What he really wanted the children to do was to help him retake power and get rid of all of his adversaries, which Mao was able to accomplish by using propaganda and destroying all education, religious artifacts, historical monuments, and anything of high value that had been an important part of the former society... all so he could become supreme leader again and continue to make poor decisions for the good of nobody. It's crazy to see Mao's face all over China these days when if you really know the history of things he was a bloodthirsty tyrant who is responsible for the greatest mass-starvation in the modern era and indirectly caused 50 million Chinese deaths...but that is another story. Chinese history books have literally omitted the time periods of 1959-1961 (Great Starvation) & 1966-1976 (Cultural Revolution); or shifted blame to others when it was really almost completely Mao's fault...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_Revolution
Anyways, during the 1970's it was hard to recruit teachers because they had previously been used as human pinatas by their students. Furthermore, many of these students (called "Red Guards" at the time) went on to prominent roles in government and were never punished; I can't imagine this sits well with the families of former teachers who were beaten, tortured, and executed for trying to teach Math Class. Therefore, the universities needed a humongous carrot to encourage teachers to go to universities like the one that I teach at is; so they decided that all teachers would be given free housing; furthermore, the teacher's were promised retirement payments which are similar to American pensions except you only receive money when you retire but don't have to put any money in...yes, it's a very good deal. Nowadays, there is an implicit understanding that teachers who are hired will have their jobs for a lifetime, and that they will be given free retirement money. Unfortunately, the housing has all been given out and it is utterly ridiculous to me because you have these red-brick buildings that are at least forty years olding all over the campus that take up way too much room and look atrocious.
Nowadays, with real estate prices at historical highs in China these retired teachers are permanent fixtures in all of the best Chinese universities. The different universities have tried to get them to relocated but with their friends on campus that they have literally known for fifty year, the teachers have have made it crystal clear that they aren't going anywhere. When they have tried the teachers have revolted, and they have taken over all of the best territories at the different universities and act like they own the school...which is annoying but understandable. I guess if you go through famines, revolutions, and other shenanigans you should certainly feel as if you are entitled to a good slice of life...and they take it!
Additionally, there are lots of really good schools around my neighborhood so it is common for the grandparents to have their children and even their grandchildren come live with them. These are not big apartments by the way: bedroom, living room, miniature bathroom, small kitchen, and an even smaller dining room; and all of the apartments are the same. In my building and the surrounding buildings almost every other apartment is occupied by at the very least five Chinese people (it's a good thing that they are so short). It is quite common to see parents pushing their parents in wheelchairs with the grandchild lurking around in the background peeing in public; in China children under the age of seven are given carte blanche to go the bathroom in public whether it be #1 or #2...it is terribly disgusting! I can't tell you how many times I have been walking to class and I have seen a Chinese father holding a piece of cardboard under his five year-old son who is dropping a deuce in public...stern! Oh and of course the Dad applauds after the son performs his miraculous feat; as if the son has scored a three-point shot in basketball.
So I try to spend as little time in my apartment as possible because I fear that I will "snap" one of these days; and on average every three months I come very close. I try to take my laptop and Kindle to different coffee shops so that I can get away from my neighbor's painful piano of doom; nevertheless, with Chinese weather being downright awful I sometimes get stuck at my desk with a ton of work to do. When the full moon is out this can create one of two possible outcomes: #1, a basketball toss at the wall from three-pointer to slam-dunk depending on my anger; #2, a medicine ball smash. Today, it was a #1 & #2 day! Now this is not something I am proud of as I try my best not to get caught into these situations in China. The olde Thadeus Claymore (my former self) would have been smashing the wall on a regular basis. Nevertheless, I am trying to get along with my Chinese brothers even though they annoy the hell out of me, but sometimes I just can't...
After today's wall smash my neighbors are acting like a bee hive that was kicked in by a professional futbol player. At first they were shocked, as if there was an earthquake or a bomb had exploded. Secondly, screams shouted and I heard lots of moving around like maybe they thought that the wall was coming down, and they were frantic to see who was injured. Finally, the screamings of anti-foreigner slang (I guess they have figured out that I am not a comrade) followed suit with olde man river acting like he was going to charge thru my front wall with a Chinese battalion and pick up where the Korean War left off.
As I type this my episode has been unfolding and olde man river is really yelling and cursing. He is probably two-feet tall and can't walk, but his voice is starting to scare me a little bit. It sounds like one of those old-school Kung Fu movies where the Mr. Miagi ragged olde man beats the shit out of the upstart punk. I wish I had an air horn right now or something that could really tilt the balance of power in my favor. But alas, I have no heavy artillery with which to take my warfare to the next level. Anyways, I'm gonna get the F%^& out of dodge for a bit and grab a coffee. I'll update my story next time I am on here unless the enemy gets to me first.
from the war room,
General Custer
P.S. I have continued my extraordinary tradition of giving my students ridiculous names, so far I have added these names to my list of extraordinary gentlemen/gentlewomen of China: Wombat, Alf, Grouse, Lars, Bettina, Xavier, Caesar the VI.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The Chinese Mayflower
Dear my fine feathered friends,
A long overdue post is finally here, and I do have my reasons for not blogging for so long...mainly that I am super lazy. I also tore my MCL in my knee this past November playing on my all-Italian soccer team besides American me, and had knee surgery for the third time in three years in the States this past January. This is becoming an almost annual extravaganza of sorts for me. Nevertheless, after having knee surgery in the States and spending a month on my parent's couch eating Mexican food; watching countless hours of Tosh.O and Jersey Shore; and going to Physical Therapy and pissing off all of the physical therapists with my sarcastic wit and lack of any sort of enthusiasm or pleasantry. I returned back to the Orient this past Tuesday to what was arguably the most reprehensible flight of my entire infamous and unfortunate career of flying.
So a few hours before takeoff for my midnight flight from Los Angeles to Beijing I wandered around the airport. I think a blind man would have little trouble spotting the Chinese in the crowd because they are constantly coughing, not to mention that very few of them cover their mouths while coughing. I used to think it was the lack of mouth-covering which was most annoying, and it is annoying; however, it seems that Chinese people in general cough more than any species of man or animal on the planet. I'm not sure whether they have poor immune systems or that maybe that they have lived with terrible pollution for far too many years, but I would say that one-in-three Chinese travelers was coughing at least every five minutes. Ridiculous but true.
My employer was kind enough to pay for my travel, but that was exactly where the kindness ended since they paid for the cheapest and most asinine of airlines available to mankind...the dreaded "Air China Airlines": where dreams definitely DO NOT come true. I have a tendency to get screwed when it comes to the seating arrangements on these flights, and as always I crapped out with a snake eyes. I had an aisle seat in the back of the plane in the middle-section, and on this flight it was 3-4-3 seating chart so I was originally seated in the middle-section right aisle seat. As I sat down and uncorked my PSP video game for a little FIFA gameplay this middle-aged Chinese man with an awful suit and a moustache compiled completely of whiskers waddled up to me like a penguin and asked me the question that I knew was coming. Would I be kind enough to switch places with him? For some reason this happens to me on every flight, but after getting served a multitude of times I didn't just agree right off the bat. He told me that his seat was on the left aisle of the same section, and mine was on the right aisle so I figured no harm no foul. Of course he wanted to sit near his family and I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. This event would come back to bite me right in the ass soon thereafter.
Five minutes after switching seats I saw a screaming baby with overly preoccupied family about thirty feet away and I knew instantaneously exactly where the baby and his baby-worshiping parents would be sitting...directly to the left of me of course! Meanwhile, he man who had switched me seats quickly looked to expand his territory as if we were playing the board-game "Risk", and he tossed his miniature shoes in front of the seat to the left of me. Soon thereafter he began to eye the seat to the right of me as if he was cast under the spell of its magical powers. However, I instinctively threw down my magazines on this seat so that there would be no confusion on the real estate lines. I figured a 50%-50% split is something I could live with as each of us would get our own two seats. After eating an atrocious meal and playing a few hours of my PSP I finally decided to try to get some shuteye, it had been a LONG day and I was hoping for at least a six-hour nap.
45 minutes later I heard an ear-piercing screech from the crying Chinese baby to my left. Startled for a second I decided to flick on my lights and read the magazines that I had put on the seat to my right to recapture my composure. But instead of magazines on this seat there was instead the moustached face of the Chinaman who had switched seats with me and was snoring like a F^&*ing banshee. The son of a bitch had expanded his territory to all three seats while I was asleep and his head was almost a few inches from touching my thigh. Seriously, WTF! I thought I had done this guy a good deed and in return he showed me the kind of manners and etiquette that the majority of Chinese people possess: which is of course... NONE! I hate to stereotype but it has been my experience that Chinese people are the rudest breed of mammal on the planet. I decided not to wake him up, but when he did wake I was going to use my newly-improved Chinese curse vocabulary to tell him what I thought about his migration into my defined territory. Nevertheless, after playing my PSP for another three hours or so I finally fell asleep again.
Then another sonic boom of a baby scream woke me up maybe a half hour later, and to my utter shock a new face had appeared on the seat next to mine. The moustached man's wife had switched seats with him while I was asleep and she had nestled her unpleasant and oddly-shaped dome to my right and was now using my magazines as a pillow. I wanted to scream very bad things at this point. Very bad things! But what was I gonna do; it was a woman and I was not exactly in the majority in terms of ethnicity on this airplane. Therefore, I went back to my PSP and killed off some more brain cells by busting out another FIFA Soccer tournament. As always, I made it to the finals and lost; made it to the finals again and lost; and made it to the finals and lost in a penalty shoot-out...stern!
I got up some four hours later to go to the bathroom and the woman was now gone. I quickly grabbed my backpack and put it on the seat to my right so that there would be no more confusion on whose territory was whose. I was tempted to spread out three seats over and take a nap like my Chinese neighbors had, but I just cannot be that type of passive-aggressive person; except when it comes to this blog. and, it really feels good. After walking around the airplane for awhile to stretch out my newly-repaired knee I saw my whiskered nemesis thrust something up into the air with extreme jubilation; almost as if he had won the lottery or had caught I giant fish. I hurried over to figure out what had the heck had happened and after careful examination I recognized the red wrapping of a bag of Skittles in his hand...my F'ing SKITTLES in his hand! The Skittles that I had had left in my original seat. I walked over to see him sharing the Skittles wish his family in their three other three seats on the far right side of the plane and it was an utterly strange incident. Almost identical to the scent in "E.T." where the extra terrestrial is eating the Reese's Pieces...except there were three of them. So I guess it was more like an alien's Thanksgiving. This is when my blood had finally hit a boiling point that there would be no coming back from. Like what was this guy thinking??!?! That the airline was giving away free Skittles?!?!? Why didn't he ask me if they were mine?!?!?
So as I started to watch the Chinese family eat my delightful snack I soon realized that there will only three of them. For some reason when the plane had taken off I thought that there were four of them; as some very fortunate families are allocated an additional Chinese in the Orient. So why then had they have purchased a seat on my aisle when in reality they should have just sat together in the three seats on the plane's right side? Or, why would this Chinese guy asked me to switch him seats when he already had the properly allotted number of seats for his wife and the maximum number of children a Chinese family is supposed to have? That's when it dawned on me that the whiskered Chinese Dad had probably hustled me from the very get-go. As I heard boom-shattering baby screams in the background all I could think about was what curse words I could get away with saying to this guy without being deported...unfortunately, I would not get the chance. As I locked eyes with him he seemed to understand that the jig was now up. Nevertheless, the bastard had one last ace card up his sleeve to play and he was not through with me just yet.
For the remainder of the flight the whiskered man and his wife switched seats on the right aisle seat while using their child as a divider/shield to the seat in between me and them. They figured correctly that I would not grill them with their annoying child seating two seats to my right jumping up and down like a monkey. As the child looked at me like an albino polar bear the screaming baby started to get more and more riled up...and then the airplane started to hit turbulence. Just an FYI: The Chinese are the world's worst travelers. You can always spot them on vacation as they are simply just being annoying. I was trying to come up with a more politically correct word but this is the best adjective that I can think of. For example in Thailand you can find the Chinese tourists splashing around in three-feet water of with life preservers on as if they are being chased by a great white shark. When it comes to air turbulence on an airplane it is as if they are taking a kayak straight down Victoria Falls.
As soon as the first of the airplane screams reigned supreme like we were going down the world's scariest roller coaster. Families were holding onto each other as if they would never see one another again. Babies became toxic sound polluters with screams of horror that will forever deafen my ears. Panic-stricken Chinese travelers kept hitting the airline help button for the stewardess to come save them. HAHA! Which is just ridiculous in thought and theory. I mean what do they expect to happen? That the he stewardess is going to use her almighty stewardess powers like a character from "World of Warcraft"? It was ridiculous, hilarious, annoying, and entertaining...but mostly annoying.
I had little to no contact with the neighboring family for the rest of my flight but if I ever see the Dad again without his kid or wife I may punch him as hard as I can in the stomach. The flight came to an underwhelming end and fortunately my bags were not lost and I was not deported. It has been almost four days since I hit Chinese soil and I have been completely jet-lagged ever since. I hate Air China airlines and the majority of the people who fly on this infamous airline. End of story.
I start teaching this coming Chinese Monday and will be up to my usual hijinks's. Giving my students ridiculous names like Grouse, Mauricio, Caesar, and Erskin while ruling my class with an iron laowai fist.
TO Death with Air China,
Professor Atkinson
A long overdue post is finally here, and I do have my reasons for not blogging for so long...mainly that I am super lazy. I also tore my MCL in my knee this past November playing on my all-Italian soccer team besides American me, and had knee surgery for the third time in three years in the States this past January. This is becoming an almost annual extravaganza of sorts for me. Nevertheless, after having knee surgery in the States and spending a month on my parent's couch eating Mexican food; watching countless hours of Tosh.O and Jersey Shore; and going to Physical Therapy and pissing off all of the physical therapists with my sarcastic wit and lack of any sort of enthusiasm or pleasantry. I returned back to the Orient this past Tuesday to what was arguably the most reprehensible flight of my entire infamous and unfortunate career of flying.
So a few hours before takeoff for my midnight flight from Los Angeles to Beijing I wandered around the airport. I think a blind man would have little trouble spotting the Chinese in the crowd because they are constantly coughing, not to mention that very few of them cover their mouths while coughing. I used to think it was the lack of mouth-covering which was most annoying, and it is annoying; however, it seems that Chinese people in general cough more than any species of man or animal on the planet. I'm not sure whether they have poor immune systems or that maybe that they have lived with terrible pollution for far too many years, but I would say that one-in-three Chinese travelers was coughing at least every five minutes. Ridiculous but true.
My employer was kind enough to pay for my travel, but that was exactly where the kindness ended since they paid for the cheapest and most asinine of airlines available to mankind...the dreaded "Air China Airlines": where dreams definitely DO NOT come true. I have a tendency to get screwed when it comes to the seating arrangements on these flights, and as always I crapped out with a snake eyes. I had an aisle seat in the back of the plane in the middle-section, and on this flight it was 3-4-3 seating chart so I was originally seated in the middle-section right aisle seat. As I sat down and uncorked my PSP video game for a little FIFA gameplay this middle-aged Chinese man with an awful suit and a moustache compiled completely of whiskers waddled up to me like a penguin and asked me the question that I knew was coming. Would I be kind enough to switch places with him? For some reason this happens to me on every flight, but after getting served a multitude of times I didn't just agree right off the bat. He told me that his seat was on the left aisle of the same section, and mine was on the right aisle so I figured no harm no foul. Of course he wanted to sit near his family and I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. This event would come back to bite me right in the ass soon thereafter.
Five minutes after switching seats I saw a screaming baby with overly preoccupied family about thirty feet away and I knew instantaneously exactly where the baby and his baby-worshiping parents would be sitting...directly to the left of me of course! Meanwhile, he man who had switched me seats quickly looked to expand his territory as if we were playing the board-game "Risk", and he tossed his miniature shoes in front of the seat to the left of me. Soon thereafter he began to eye the seat to the right of me as if he was cast under the spell of its magical powers. However, I instinctively threw down my magazines on this seat so that there would be no confusion on the real estate lines. I figured a 50%-50% split is something I could live with as each of us would get our own two seats. After eating an atrocious meal and playing a few hours of my PSP I finally decided to try to get some shuteye, it had been a LONG day and I was hoping for at least a six-hour nap.
45 minutes later I heard an ear-piercing screech from the crying Chinese baby to my left. Startled for a second I decided to flick on my lights and read the magazines that I had put on the seat to my right to recapture my composure. But instead of magazines on this seat there was instead the moustached face of the Chinaman who had switched seats with me and was snoring like a F^&*ing banshee. The son of a bitch had expanded his territory to all three seats while I was asleep and his head was almost a few inches from touching my thigh. Seriously, WTF! I thought I had done this guy a good deed and in return he showed me the kind of manners and etiquette that the majority of Chinese people possess: which is of course... NONE! I hate to stereotype but it has been my experience that Chinese people are the rudest breed of mammal on the planet. I decided not to wake him up, but when he did wake I was going to use my newly-improved Chinese curse vocabulary to tell him what I thought about his migration into my defined territory. Nevertheless, after playing my PSP for another three hours or so I finally fell asleep again.
Then another sonic boom of a baby scream woke me up maybe a half hour later, and to my utter shock a new face had appeared on the seat next to mine. The moustached man's wife had switched seats with him while I was asleep and she had nestled her unpleasant and oddly-shaped dome to my right and was now using my magazines as a pillow. I wanted to scream very bad things at this point. Very bad things! But what was I gonna do; it was a woman and I was not exactly in the majority in terms of ethnicity on this airplane. Therefore, I went back to my PSP and killed off some more brain cells by busting out another FIFA Soccer tournament. As always, I made it to the finals and lost; made it to the finals again and lost; and made it to the finals and lost in a penalty shoot-out...stern!
I got up some four hours later to go to the bathroom and the woman was now gone. I quickly grabbed my backpack and put it on the seat to my right so that there would be no more confusion on whose territory was whose. I was tempted to spread out three seats over and take a nap like my Chinese neighbors had, but I just cannot be that type of passive-aggressive person; except when it comes to this blog. and, it really feels good. After walking around the airplane for awhile to stretch out my newly-repaired knee I saw my whiskered nemesis thrust something up into the air with extreme jubilation; almost as if he had won the lottery or had caught I giant fish. I hurried over to figure out what had the heck had happened and after careful examination I recognized the red wrapping of a bag of Skittles in his hand...my F'ing SKITTLES in his hand! The Skittles that I had had left in my original seat. I walked over to see him sharing the Skittles wish his family in their three other three seats on the far right side of the plane and it was an utterly strange incident. Almost identical to the scent in "E.T." where the extra terrestrial is eating the Reese's Pieces...except there were three of them. So I guess it was more like an alien's Thanksgiving. This is when my blood had finally hit a boiling point that there would be no coming back from. Like what was this guy thinking??!?! That the airline was giving away free Skittles?!?!? Why didn't he ask me if they were mine?!?!?
So as I started to watch the Chinese family eat my delightful snack I soon realized that there will only three of them. For some reason when the plane had taken off I thought that there were four of them; as some very fortunate families are allocated an additional Chinese in the Orient. So why then had they have purchased a seat on my aisle when in reality they should have just sat together in the three seats on the plane's right side? Or, why would this Chinese guy asked me to switch him seats when he already had the properly allotted number of seats for his wife and the maximum number of children a Chinese family is supposed to have? That's when it dawned on me that the whiskered Chinese Dad had probably hustled me from the very get-go. As I heard boom-shattering baby screams in the background all I could think about was what curse words I could get away with saying to this guy without being deported...unfortunately, I would not get the chance. As I locked eyes with him he seemed to understand that the jig was now up. Nevertheless, the bastard had one last ace card up his sleeve to play and he was not through with me just yet.
For the remainder of the flight the whiskered man and his wife switched seats on the right aisle seat while using their child as a divider/shield to the seat in between me and them. They figured correctly that I would not grill them with their annoying child seating two seats to my right jumping up and down like a monkey. As the child looked at me like an albino polar bear the screaming baby started to get more and more riled up...and then the airplane started to hit turbulence. Just an FYI: The Chinese are the world's worst travelers. You can always spot them on vacation as they are simply just being annoying. I was trying to come up with a more politically correct word but this is the best adjective that I can think of. For example in Thailand you can find the Chinese tourists splashing around in three-feet water of with life preservers on as if they are being chased by a great white shark. When it comes to air turbulence on an airplane it is as if they are taking a kayak straight down Victoria Falls.
As soon as the first of the airplane screams reigned supreme like we were going down the world's scariest roller coaster. Families were holding onto each other as if they would never see one another again. Babies became toxic sound polluters with screams of horror that will forever deafen my ears. Panic-stricken Chinese travelers kept hitting the airline help button for the stewardess to come save them. HAHA! Which is just ridiculous in thought and theory. I mean what do they expect to happen? That the he stewardess is going to use her almighty stewardess powers like a character from "World of Warcraft"? It was ridiculous, hilarious, annoying, and entertaining...but mostly annoying.
I had little to no contact with the neighboring family for the rest of my flight but if I ever see the Dad again without his kid or wife I may punch him as hard as I can in the stomach. The flight came to an underwhelming end and fortunately my bags were not lost and I was not deported. It has been almost four days since I hit Chinese soil and I have been completely jet-lagged ever since. I hate Air China airlines and the majority of the people who fly on this infamous airline. End of story.
I start teaching this coming Chinese Monday and will be up to my usual hijinks's. Giving my students ridiculous names like Grouse, Mauricio, Caesar, and Erskin while ruling my class with an iron laowai fist.
TO Death with Air China,
Professor Atkinson
Monday, November 8, 2010
Ten of the Worst Things that I have done in China
Dear people who are currently not working for the Chinese government,
Please notice how I did not say the ten worst things I have done in China as I will undoubtedly forget a plethora of painful memories and unfortunate events that have transpired in my 2+ years in China. Also, this is in no way a countdown of worst to best or vice-versa, as I have no idea which of my past misdeeds is worse than the other. Anyways, drumroll of embarrassment please....
1. This Summer while teaching a Business course I convinced my Chinese Monitor to let me read the teacher evaluations. Then after I read the evaluations I changed the participation grades of the students according to how they rated me as a teacher. I am not proud of this, but it just kinda happened and nobody was seriously hurt that I know of.
2. In each class I have a monitor who functions as an organizer and helper for minor functions of my job. Nevertheless, I have changed the job title of each monitor from monitor to secretary, to secretary/oper, and now it borders on like something similar to a maid or servant. I always pick a monitor who is a girl, generally sex-deprived and somewhat infatuated with myself and use this to my advantage. Believe me, I am no Brad Pitt or Leo DiCaprio; however, since I am the youngest teacher at the university by far and dress to impress and seem to be in a position of power the girls are generally quite impressed with me. I have my monitors: setup my computer and get my PPT ready; pickup my dry cleaning; deal with customs if I have things that are shipped, fill out applications for me; and all kinds of other stuff.
3. I have hypothetically violated the teacher-student relationship a couple of times. Both times the students were "former students" of mine, but I am pretty sure the Chinese government would not be happy about it. Furthermore, both times I have ended things by simply not returning phone calls/text messages while pretending that I am working 16 hours a day and other nonsense. This is all hypothetical or course, but in reality I just don't see myself dating Chinese women due to cultural/grooming differences. I am getting too old for this kind of nonsense, but I just refuse to grow up.
4. I have a running turf battle with two rent-a-cops who work outside of my gym. All they have to do is open this gate for me to get into the gym, and well I hate waiting for anything. On one particular day, my friend Kevin Rosenberg's fantasy football team beat my squad on the last game of the week with the little-known Dez Bryant scoring two garbage-time touchdowns to beat my beloved team...I was livid all day...I could barely go ten minutes without reliving the game in the back of my head. When I finally got to the gym I had to wait for at least two minutes for this nimrod rent-a-cop to push a button a few feet away from himself to open up the gate. When he finally pushed the buzzer I purposely shoved the gate so hard that the hinge nearly broke, and it came within inches of hitting his buddy in the head. Afterwards, rent-a-cop Number #1 started yelling at me, and instead of apologizing I put my finger in his face and well...I hypothetically may have called his mother a whore after he insulted me a few times. Eventually, the dust settled and the rent-a-cops backed down sensing that I was seriously about to deck one of them. Nevertheless, every time I go to the gym now I have these rent-a-cops purposely taking forever to open up the gate while cursing at me under their breath.
5. A few weeks ago, I was at this super-shady bar called "The Den" where all these Mongolian whores congregate in the AM. I was stone-cold sober as it was 8AM and I was there to watch the World Series, and the Mongols where uber-wasted. I noticed out of the corner of my eye this huge fight that was about to transpire, but since I did not want to catch VD or get Mongol blood on me I did nothing. Then I watched Mongolian hooker #1 smash a bottle over Mongolian hooker #2's face. I felt horrible for not doing anything and could not sleep well for a week.
6. Last year I had a student who had obviously just crawled out of bed and ran to class as his hair was sticking up in every direction possible. After I caught him text messaging I decided to make an example out of him by cracking jokes about his haircut to the entire class. He was quite embarrassed, here is the email he wrote me back.
Dear teacher:
In China, you should not make fun of others body-organs,
especially hair.This is a very impolite behavior,not humor.
Every Tuesday ,we have to get up early,and reach the classroom in a hurry.So I had forgotten the hair yesterday.
Every day we slept late,because there are too many books to read.
I know you are good-natured joke,so I'm not angry at all.I just want to remind you:do not bother similar mistakes again.
You are a very good teacher,I've learned a lot from you.
Thank you!
Yours,
Mike
7. I caught a student sleeping in one of my classes and I made him stand up and show off his fingernails that were easily a centimeter long. Then I asked the students if these fingernails were sexy, and if they could be used as a lethal weapon. Everyone else in the class laughed besides the Wolverine (my nickname for him).
8. If students show up late to class I make them sing songs of my choosing. Examples are: "Destiny's Child" songs, "Michael Jackson" songs, or my personal favorite "Happy Birthday" (it is always my birthday of course).
9. At least once a week when I go to a restaurant I ask for "xiong mao rou" which is panda meat. When the people at the restaurant ask me about this I tell them that we eat it all the time in the United States, and that it is extremely delicious.
10. Whenever I give students any type of examination I put a picture up of a panda with an AK-47 that says something like: "If you cheat on this test then this panda will surely kill you". I also tell them that if I catch them cheating they will be kicked out of the class (which I am pretty sure that I do not have the right to do).
it would be appreciated if you did not forward this email to the Chinese government.
yours truly,
pandakinson
P.S. I am good out here 99% of this time, and these are some rare exceptions. I do take work very seriously and hope that the people that read this blog do not think that I act like this all of the time :)
Please notice how I did not say the ten worst things I have done in China as I will undoubtedly forget a plethora of painful memories and unfortunate events that have transpired in my 2+ years in China. Also, this is in no way a countdown of worst to best or vice-versa, as I have no idea which of my past misdeeds is worse than the other. Anyways, drumroll of embarrassment please....
1. This Summer while teaching a Business course I convinced my Chinese Monitor to let me read the teacher evaluations. Then after I read the evaluations I changed the participation grades of the students according to how they rated me as a teacher. I am not proud of this, but it just kinda happened and nobody was seriously hurt that I know of.
2. In each class I have a monitor who functions as an organizer and helper for minor functions of my job. Nevertheless, I have changed the job title of each monitor from monitor to secretary, to secretary/oper, and now it borders on like something similar to a maid or servant. I always pick a monitor who is a girl, generally sex-deprived and somewhat infatuated with myself and use this to my advantage. Believe me, I am no Brad Pitt or Leo DiCaprio; however, since I am the youngest teacher at the university by far and dress to impress and seem to be in a position of power the girls are generally quite impressed with me. I have my monitors: setup my computer and get my PPT ready; pickup my dry cleaning; deal with customs if I have things that are shipped, fill out applications for me; and all kinds of other stuff.
3. I have hypothetically violated the teacher-student relationship a couple of times. Both times the students were "former students" of mine, but I am pretty sure the Chinese government would not be happy about it. Furthermore, both times I have ended things by simply not returning phone calls/text messages while pretending that I am working 16 hours a day and other nonsense. This is all hypothetical or course, but in reality I just don't see myself dating Chinese women due to cultural/grooming differences. I am getting too old for this kind of nonsense, but I just refuse to grow up.
4. I have a running turf battle with two rent-a-cops who work outside of my gym. All they have to do is open this gate for me to get into the gym, and well I hate waiting for anything. On one particular day, my friend Kevin Rosenberg's fantasy football team beat my squad on the last game of the week with the little-known Dez Bryant scoring two garbage-time touchdowns to beat my beloved team...I was livid all day...I could barely go ten minutes without reliving the game in the back of my head. When I finally got to the gym I had to wait for at least two minutes for this nimrod rent-a-cop to push a button a few feet away from himself to open up the gate. When he finally pushed the buzzer I purposely shoved the gate so hard that the hinge nearly broke, and it came within inches of hitting his buddy in the head. Afterwards, rent-a-cop Number #1 started yelling at me, and instead of apologizing I put my finger in his face and well...I hypothetically may have called his mother a whore after he insulted me a few times. Eventually, the dust settled and the rent-a-cops backed down sensing that I was seriously about to deck one of them. Nevertheless, every time I go to the gym now I have these rent-a-cops purposely taking forever to open up the gate while cursing at me under their breath.
5. A few weeks ago, I was at this super-shady bar called "The Den" where all these Mongolian whores congregate in the AM. I was stone-cold sober as it was 8AM and I was there to watch the World Series, and the Mongols where uber-wasted. I noticed out of the corner of my eye this huge fight that was about to transpire, but since I did not want to catch VD or get Mongol blood on me I did nothing. Then I watched Mongolian hooker #1 smash a bottle over Mongolian hooker #2's face. I felt horrible for not doing anything and could not sleep well for a week.
6. Last year I had a student who had obviously just crawled out of bed and ran to class as his hair was sticking up in every direction possible. After I caught him text messaging I decided to make an example out of him by cracking jokes about his haircut to the entire class. He was quite embarrassed, here is the email he wrote me back.
Dear teacher:
In China, you should not make fun of others body-organs,
especially hair.This is a very impolite behavior,not humor.
Every Tuesday ,we have to get up early,and reach the classroom in a hurry.So I had forgotten the hair yesterday.
Every day we slept late,because there are too many books to read.
I know you are good-natured joke,so I'm not angry at all.I just want to remind you:do not bother similar mistakes again.
You are a very good teacher,I've learned a lot from you.
Thank you!
Yours,
Mike
7. I caught a student sleeping in one of my classes and I made him stand up and show off his fingernails that were easily a centimeter long. Then I asked the students if these fingernails were sexy, and if they could be used as a lethal weapon. Everyone else in the class laughed besides the Wolverine (my nickname for him).
8. If students show up late to class I make them sing songs of my choosing. Examples are: "Destiny's Child" songs, "Michael Jackson" songs, or my personal favorite "Happy Birthday" (it is always my birthday of course).
9. At least once a week when I go to a restaurant I ask for "xiong mao rou" which is panda meat. When the people at the restaurant ask me about this I tell them that we eat it all the time in the United States, and that it is extremely delicious.
10. Whenever I give students any type of examination I put a picture up of a panda with an AK-47 that says something like: "If you cheat on this test then this panda will surely kill you". I also tell them that if I catch them cheating they will be kicked out of the class (which I am pretty sure that I do not have the right to do).
it would be appreciated if you did not forward this email to the Chinese government.
yours truly,
pandakinson
P.S. I am good out here 99% of this time, and these are some rare exceptions. I do take work very seriously and hope that the people that read this blog do not think that I act like this all of the time :)
Saturday, November 6, 2010
I'm back...
Hello again,
I know it has been a while but I'm finally back to blogging. In defense to the chosen few who continue to read this blog, I live in a city where there are literally two good months of weather for the entire year...September & October. That's it. It's start to get cold & windy come November, and then in December the snow hits the city and everyone runs for cover. Mix Chinese snow with one of the most polluted cities in the world and you get yourself a toxic slushy that is dangerous and destroys my Fake Air Jordans by the week. Chalk up about five pairs of fake Polo socks (for work)and Nike (for regular activity)socks for play, and you get the contents of my weekly dumpster run. FYI- there are no dumpsters in China. There are only these bicycle-propelled trash cans that the entire neighborhood forages through for anything of value. Furthermore, seeing as I consume more plastic/glass bottles than the entire neighborhood, whenever I throw my stuff away the locals run to the trash can. I have mixed feelings about the whole scenario; on one hand, I feel that my privacy is being supremely violated; on the other hand, the people of China as a whole are poor and I shouldn't judge them. Nevertheless, I do judge them and what makes it worse ss that one local woman literally screams and curses at me if somebody besides her is the first to my trash can. WTF! Am I supposed to flag her down? Man, China is so weird sometimes I just can't really put it into words what I feel during these types of verbal exchanges.
Work is good, it is the one constant out here. I have been promoted at the prestigious People's University (Renmin Daxue), as I now teach Undergraduate Students, Doctoral Students, and the Administration. I wear really flashy three-piece suits that distinctly resemble the wardrobe Robert DeNiro wore in the movie "Goodfellas". I top it off with a vast collection of Aviator shades which I buy by the handful whenever it is that go to "The Silk Market" the mecca of counterfeit goods. Last time I went there I came out with a remote-controlled counterfeit helicopter which I promptly crashed into the trees of the courtyard outside of my apartment. I may have scared the hell out of half the neighborhood, but they all look at me like an American ambassador panda anyways so it's all the same to me.
The students all do exactly as they are told, so they behave exactly the opposite of how I did when I was a student. They call me Sir or Professor, and whenever they see me on campus they are "honored". Both the men and the women call me "handsome", which I find awkward at times. I am guessing it has to due with their limited vocabularies. In each class I have a "monitor" and she (it is always a she), does anything I ask...literally. I sent one of them the other day to Chinese customs to pickup my Amazon Kindle with my Passport and Credit Card. I have not heard from her yet, but I'm fairly certain she will return with my documents and Amazon Kindle tomorrow or I will surely fail her.
I give the students a list of mostly ridiculous names to choose from, and when they choose a name such as: Leroy, Kostas, Richie, Caesar, Alejandro, or Grouse (personal favorite), I don't even chuckle since it would ruin my joke. What I have done for two of the classes is take their photos and put them up on Facebook, and then tagged said named friends. Fortunately, the Chinese have put up "The Great Wall of Facebook", and this is what keeps me safe from these students finding out about how I am kindof clowning them. I think I may be the only person in the Orient who is completely opposed to the Chinese taking down "The Great Wall of Facebook". Since I work at the #1 government affiliated university in China I would surely be fired or worse if these students knew about my shenanigans.
On a lighter note, I do feel that I take my job seriously (besides the small pranks). At least compared to the other teachers who mostly resemble stone-age creatures that are still stuck in the chalkboard and ruler days. For my Administration class, they have me teaching with another professor because some of the Administration are highly-ranked Communist Party members and demand the satisfaction of two teachers. One of the guys that I teach with is super-cool, and we get along great. However, this guy I work with on Wednesday nights played a makeshift game of Duck-Duck-Goose using a name game during our first clsas. Subsequently, when I gave my lecture which was comprehensively organized on PPT with hours of effort and due diligence on my part, he acted as if I was messing up his schedule of things to do and what-not. We have a dinner date before class at 5PM on Wednesday which I will surely try to cancel. I have only missed one day of class in almost four full semesters of work at the University, but I have ducked & dodged a multitude of nonsensical meetings as if I was Barry Sanders in his prime.
Anyways, I should probably be getting back to my couch. I caught a Cold the other day, and that is another reason for the return of my blog. Next time I promise to tell more interesting stories, as I have been going to this crazy bar full of Mongolian whores at 7 or 8 AM to watch USC football games and the World Series. "The Den" is the only place I know open 24 hours, and a few weeks back I saw the gnarliest fight of my life which ended with a Mongolian whore breaking a bottle over the head of another Mongolian whore. Seriously, DO NOT MESS WITH MONGOLIAN WHORES.
Additionally, I have made enemies with two rent-a-cops who work the gate outside of my gym, and I may have to ask one of my students who is a real police officer to tell them to leave me alone. I really wish I did not call one of their mother's a whore...hypothetically speaking.
I'm out,
Atkinson
I know it has been a while but I'm finally back to blogging. In defense to the chosen few who continue to read this blog, I live in a city where there are literally two good months of weather for the entire year...September & October. That's it. It's start to get cold & windy come November, and then in December the snow hits the city and everyone runs for cover. Mix Chinese snow with one of the most polluted cities in the world and you get yourself a toxic slushy that is dangerous and destroys my Fake Air Jordans by the week. Chalk up about five pairs of fake Polo socks (for work)and Nike (for regular activity)socks for play, and you get the contents of my weekly dumpster run. FYI- there are no dumpsters in China. There are only these bicycle-propelled trash cans that the entire neighborhood forages through for anything of value. Furthermore, seeing as I consume more plastic/glass bottles than the entire neighborhood, whenever I throw my stuff away the locals run to the trash can. I have mixed feelings about the whole scenario; on one hand, I feel that my privacy is being supremely violated; on the other hand, the people of China as a whole are poor and I shouldn't judge them. Nevertheless, I do judge them and what makes it worse ss that one local woman literally screams and curses at me if somebody besides her is the first to my trash can. WTF! Am I supposed to flag her down? Man, China is so weird sometimes I just can't really put it into words what I feel during these types of verbal exchanges.
Work is good, it is the one constant out here. I have been promoted at the prestigious People's University (Renmin Daxue), as I now teach Undergraduate Students, Doctoral Students, and the Administration. I wear really flashy three-piece suits that distinctly resemble the wardrobe Robert DeNiro wore in the movie "Goodfellas". I top it off with a vast collection of Aviator shades which I buy by the handful whenever it is that go to "The Silk Market" the mecca of counterfeit goods. Last time I went there I came out with a remote-controlled counterfeit helicopter which I promptly crashed into the trees of the courtyard outside of my apartment. I may have scared the hell out of half the neighborhood, but they all look at me like an American ambassador panda anyways so it's all the same to me.
The students all do exactly as they are told, so they behave exactly the opposite of how I did when I was a student. They call me Sir or Professor, and whenever they see me on campus they are "honored". Both the men and the women call me "handsome", which I find awkward at times. I am guessing it has to due with their limited vocabularies. In each class I have a "monitor" and she (it is always a she), does anything I ask...literally. I sent one of them the other day to Chinese customs to pickup my Amazon Kindle with my Passport and Credit Card. I have not heard from her yet, but I'm fairly certain she will return with my documents and Amazon Kindle tomorrow or I will surely fail her.
I give the students a list of mostly ridiculous names to choose from, and when they choose a name such as: Leroy, Kostas, Richie, Caesar, Alejandro, or Grouse (personal favorite), I don't even chuckle since it would ruin my joke. What I have done for two of the classes is take their photos and put them up on Facebook, and then tagged said named friends. Fortunately, the Chinese have put up "The Great Wall of Facebook", and this is what keeps me safe from these students finding out about how I am kindof clowning them. I think I may be the only person in the Orient who is completely opposed to the Chinese taking down "The Great Wall of Facebook". Since I work at the #1 government affiliated university in China I would surely be fired or worse if these students knew about my shenanigans.
On a lighter note, I do feel that I take my job seriously (besides the small pranks). At least compared to the other teachers who mostly resemble stone-age creatures that are still stuck in the chalkboard and ruler days. For my Administration class, they have me teaching with another professor because some of the Administration are highly-ranked Communist Party members and demand the satisfaction of two teachers. One of the guys that I teach with is super-cool, and we get along great. However, this guy I work with on Wednesday nights played a makeshift game of Duck-Duck-Goose using a name game during our first clsas. Subsequently, when I gave my lecture which was comprehensively organized on PPT with hours of effort and due diligence on my part, he acted as if I was messing up his schedule of things to do and what-not. We have a dinner date before class at 5PM on Wednesday which I will surely try to cancel. I have only missed one day of class in almost four full semesters of work at the University, but I have ducked & dodged a multitude of nonsensical meetings as if I was Barry Sanders in his prime.
Anyways, I should probably be getting back to my couch. I caught a Cold the other day, and that is another reason for the return of my blog. Next time I promise to tell more interesting stories, as I have been going to this crazy bar full of Mongolian whores at 7 or 8 AM to watch USC football games and the World Series. "The Den" is the only place I know open 24 hours, and a few weeks back I saw the gnarliest fight of my life which ended with a Mongolian whore breaking a bottle over the head of another Mongolian whore. Seriously, DO NOT MESS WITH MONGOLIAN WHORES.
Additionally, I have made enemies with two rent-a-cops who work the gate outside of my gym, and I may have to ask one of my students who is a real police officer to tell them to leave me alone. I really wish I did not call one of their mother's a whore...hypothetically speaking.
I'm out,
Atkinson
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Final Grades and World Cup Fever
Hello whoever it is that is reading this blog:
From the comments section it seems only a few spammers from China are on the site. So I have now completed two semesters worth of teaching both Spoken English and Introductory Business at Renmin University in Beijing, China. I teach basic English to Doctoral students, which is probably the equivalent of a third-grade English class in the United States. Secondly, I teach an elective course to mostly Undergraduate Business majors that covers: Marketing, Organizational Behavior, Finance, Accounting, and Economics. Therefore, I get to at least salvage a little bit of use from the MBA Degree I recently completed at Pepperdine.
My Doctoral Students are between the ages of 25-40. For those of them who don't already have English names, I give them a list of suggestions which are equal parts ridiculous and culturally-insensitive. Most of the names I have recommended come from "bros" that I went to school with at USC, as those days of glory are still remembered fondly, even though I'm pretty sure due to over a decade of debauchery I have managed to erase a good 90% of these memories. I would bet dollars to donuts that my class is the only one on the continent where Chinese students proudly call themselves: Mauricio, Maradona, Caesar, Grouse, and the list goes on and on. Caesar Orozco you should be proud, in just one year of teaching I already have compiled five future leaders of the country who are enthusiastically calling themselves Caesar. When I say leaders of the country I am partially serious, as the university I teach at is the People's University and it is a hard-core government talent pool. I would say that 95% of my students are active party members, and many are looking to make it big in politics. Hopefully, my association with them will buy me out of any future logjams that I'm likely to find myself in if I continue living in the Orient.
My elective business course is for Undergraduates, and this last semester all of the students in my class were Freshmen who at the tender age of eighteen and nineteen were forced to deal with my reign of terror. They speak English better than some of my friends, and they eat, sleep, and drink homework. Most of them have between 25-30 hours of class a week, and spend another fifty hours doing homework. Sometimes I get up early on Saturday morning to get breakfast and will walk past the library that looks more like a line for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland. I don't know what I was doing at 8AM on Saturday when I was a Freshmen at USC, but I am fairly certain that I wasn't waiting for the library to open. It has been much more rewarding to teach this elective course as these students listen to everything I saw as if I was Moses.
I have also instituted an extremely effective policy for combating tardiness...I make them sing. I have been using this incredibly hilarious technique more for my own personal amusement than anything else, as there is nothing like an embarrassed bespectacled Chinese student with a teddy-bear sweater singing "Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer" (I have printed out a copy and keep it in my binder at all times). Speaking of teddy-bears, if Beijing is the worst dressed city in the world (and it is) then Renmin University is its epicenter of cross-dressing. "Teeny-Weeny" is a teddy-bear that a good half of the girls are wearing on their shirts on any given day, and this goes all the way up from Freshmen to Doctoral students. When I ask these girls why it is they love "Teeny-Weeny", there answers are always somewhere along the lines of: "every woman loves a teddy-bear." LOL
To make the dress code even more outlandish, Chinese women constantly walk around with umbrellas whenever it is even moderately warm. When I ask them why they do this they almost always say: "I don't want to be black." Which although culturally insensitive, is the way that women want to look around here, because dating back to the old days of China having lighter skin meant that you were upper-class as you didn't work in the fields. Some of my Chinese students literally have lighter skin than I do. Those women who don't wear "Teeny-Weeny" apparel are likely sporting some ridiculous American phrase in big block letters on their clothes that 9 out of 10 times does not make sense, as whoever is selling these foreign shirts must be even more of a sarcastic bastard than I am. My personal favorite is: "A surfer dreams is wet."
Now that the World Cup has begun I have started mingling more with the locals around here. Since I am abot as lazy as a crippled panda, I have found the very closest restaurant/bar on campus and made it my home away from home. I would much rather go to some of the classier spots around town, but I can walk to this place in five minutes and they reserve a table for me as I come in EVERY NIGHT. I love the World Cup, more than any other sporting event, and add a little bit of gambling and you have absolute magic. The "Water Stone Cafe" got themselves a slide projector; rearranged the seating chart; and now it is the place to be. Out of a good 50-100 people on any night, I am by far the loudest, most annoying, and whitest. To be as politically incorrect as humanly possible, I have chosen to root like crazy against all teams from the continent of Asia. South Koreans, North Koreans, and Japanese, all would love nothing more than to take a baseball bat to my watermelon-sized head...and I don't disagree with them for feeling the way that they do...it's a total dick move.
Nevertheless, the South Africans most definitely hate me the most. During the first match I chose to root for Mexico against South Africa, even though there was a posse of heavily-muscled Africans who let it be known that they were not a fan of my antics. After a little bit of liquid courage I became louder, and progressively more annoying, and as my friend Blake Dirickson would say I was "that guy". When Mexico finally did score I was so excited that I did some sort of a dancing jig that I combined with a fist pump, and after getting yelled at by the Africans I blasted them with the double-barrel middle finger salute. Fortunately, I managed to get out of the bar alive, but I have followed up these antics with subsequent debacles of American travel lore that give our kind a bad reputation in virtually every country we Americans step foot in. However, due to the fact that I am a paying customer and the staff that works there actually like me (I can be charming on very occasional occasions), when I walk into the bar now: a cold beer is poured for me and placed at my table without a word; a bevy of bespectacled, albino-skinned, vampire-fanged Chinese women smile and wave at me; and different crews of Africans, Koreans, Japanese, and Chinese all point and stare as if they have just locked eyes with Lucifer himself. Damn it feels good to be a gangster.
Anyways, that's it for now. I gotta finish grading Final Exams and then submit grades by tomorrow. I hate grading papers worse than, well I can't think of anything worse but I'm sure that there is something worse. Hope all is well back in the States and that USA takes down Algeria in there next World Cup. Tonight is Portugal vs. North Korea, and even though I have a date with a voluptuous Russian girl named Liliya who I managed to convince that the Waterstone Cafe is a wonderful establishment; I still plan on antagonizing all supporters of North Korea and probably everyone else.
go get em' Portugal,
"That Guy"
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Return to Blogging
Hello everyone,
It has been a long time since I last blogged. There are two reasons for this:
So much has happened in the last eighteen months, so I'm not going to bore you with all the details. I graduated from B-School at Pepperdine; had knee surgery AGAIN after tearing another ligament in my knee; moved to China for what I thought would be a vacation; accepted a job at Renmin University (The third-ranked university in the capital city) teaching Business English and an elective Business course; and now I am an employee of the Chinese government and a well-respected member of the Chinese community. WTF....WTF, indeed!
I live inside the campus walls of Renmin University (The People's University), and it is the weirdest place on Earth. I think they must have messed up my housing assignment because instead of moving me into a cozy building with fellow like-minded Westerners I was placed in a building that looks like it was built one-thousand years ago. The university used to have a deal where if teachers were employed by the school for a certain number of years, then in return they would give them free housing fo' life. So all of my neighbors are ancient Chinamen whose average age is 164. In the building I am living in there is only one other apartment with younger people (not that I am that young), and nobody speaks more than a few words of English. My apartment is O.K., with a: living room, bathroom (about the size of a tiny closet), bedroom, and kitchen. However, the bathroom is designed so that the shower head and the toilet are facing each other...I HATE IT! Also, whoever lives in the apartment next to mine must has a piano; and this mystery person plays the piano all day, and all night, and is most definitely the worst piano player on the planet. It's like a blind drunk man has been forced to play piano as many hours as humanly possible or he will be eaten by a dragon, and I am the one who must face his wrath. If I ever get a chance, I'm taking a baseball bat to the piano.
There is a courtyard, where an old Chinese woman has created "Cat City". Since the old Chinese are the definition of Old Skool, they have taken over all of the areas in between apartments that in most societies would be used by the whole instead of the few. It is like I'm living on gang turf, and a tough bunch of rough senior Chinese have become the equivalent of the Crips and the Bloods combined. Anyways, this woman has taken every stray board she could find to create a shanty town for stray cats, all together there are twelve cats in "Cat City" and their numbers are growing. There are Chinese men playing Chinese checkers all day long; Chinese doing their laundry outsideby hand; Chinese playing badminton from the early morning until the night, and Chinese people who look at me as if they have seen a ghost; so in a nutshell you could say I don't exactly fit in around here.
The only group of other young people in my building are these five Archaelogy major girls who live in the apartment upstairs and dance to Lady Gaga music sometimes until late at night. This would be a lot funnier if we didn't share a common wall, and it makes life more than difficult when I hear their pit-pattering feed dancing to the beat at the midnight hour. A few nights ago a piece of the wall celing actually broke and hit me in the head while I was sleeping...not cool. One of the girls bought a rabbit about a month ago from a street peddler and it had been living in a cage not to far away from cat city in the courtyard area. Why she didn't move it into the safer confines of their apartment I still don't really understand, but the rabbit seemed to be a huge hit with the old fogie community that domintes the streets in my hood. Anyways, the girls (five of them live in the same size apartment as me) grew extremely attached to the rabbit, and for a rabbit this white furball appeared to be living a nice existence. This last Friday night I went out to dinner with some friends and around eight P.M. I walked by the rabbit cage and saw this spooky ancient Chinaman with less teeth than I have fingers staring at the rabbit like he either wanted to: make love to the rabbit, or eat the rabbit. At the time I didn't think much of it but when I woke up the next morning the rabbit was gone. I called the girls and they said that they were told by one of the neighbors at exactly 8:15 P.M. last night that the rabbit was not in the cage, and by simple process of elimination I deduced that this old Chinaman must have taken the rabbit to his room for either a one-night stand or to to take a hot bath in a boiling cauldron or water
The girls were sad at first but not manic as they had assumed that the rabbit must have escaped his cage and would come back soon. I explained to them that I was pretty sure this old Chinese fellow I had seen last night had taken the rabbit, and that he most definitely ATE the rabbit. I am such an idiot! For the last 48 hours the five girls have been crying non-stop. Their screaming, wailing, and other random extremely loud acts of sadness have made it so that I have not slept more than a few hours for the last two days. If I see that Chinaman who ate the rabbit I am going to punch him in the face.
I think that's enough blogging for now, but next time I will get into the magnificent mockery I have made of the Chinese educational system. I have taken my role of teacher and designed it around the principle that "The teacher is always right". Therefore, I've been running the show like a young dictator in his prime and have become extremely fond of the omnipotent powers that I now possess. It's way better than invisibility. The students never question me and do exactly as I say. For those students that don't already have English names, I have ruled that it is the teacher's job to also give them American names. In a tribute to many of my friends from the United States I have put together quite an exotic assortment of rather unusual named students. Some people collect stamps, I collect weird names for Chinese students, so far I have: Caesar (four times over), Mauricio, Georgie, Smokey, Grouse, Maradona, Esperanza, and many, many more. I just can't imagine that there are a lot of Chinese people these days calling themselves Mauricio. I also have developed a rather effective policy towards coming to class late...public embarrassment. I make any student who comes in late sing a song of my choosing. I love it when they tell me that they hate to sing, as this is exactly the answer I am looking for.
That's it for now, next time I'll post some pictures of my students and discuss some of the funnier stories I have experienced as a teacher/white devil. The irony is that the university thinks I am a kind and wonderful man and have already offered me a contract extension complete with more money and power.
It's good to be back,
Professor Atkinson
It has been a long time since I last blogged. There are two reasons for this:
- The Chinese government placed a firewall on Gmail Blogger, along with Facebook, Youtube, Hulu, and other sites.
- I am now an employee of the Chinese government and was reluctant to break protocol.
So much has happened in the last eighteen months, so I'm not going to bore you with all the details. I graduated from B-School at Pepperdine; had knee surgery AGAIN after tearing another ligament in my knee; moved to China for what I thought would be a vacation; accepted a job at Renmin University (The third-ranked university in the capital city) teaching Business English and an elective Business course; and now I am an employee of the Chinese government and a well-respected member of the Chinese community. WTF....WTF, indeed!
I live inside the campus walls of Renmin University (The People's University), and it is the weirdest place on Earth. I think they must have messed up my housing assignment because instead of moving me into a cozy building with fellow like-minded Westerners I was placed in a building that looks like it was built one-thousand years ago. The university used to have a deal where if teachers were employed by the school for a certain number of years, then in return they would give them free housing fo' life. So all of my neighbors are ancient Chinamen whose average age is 164. In the building I am living in there is only one other apartment with younger people (not that I am that young), and nobody speaks more than a few words of English. My apartment is O.K., with a: living room, bathroom (about the size of a tiny closet), bedroom, and kitchen. However, the bathroom is designed so that the shower head and the toilet are facing each other...I HATE IT! Also, whoever lives in the apartment next to mine must has a piano; and this mystery person plays the piano all day, and all night, and is most definitely the worst piano player on the planet. It's like a blind drunk man has been forced to play piano as many hours as humanly possible or he will be eaten by a dragon, and I am the one who must face his wrath. If I ever get a chance, I'm taking a baseball bat to the piano.
There is a courtyard, where an old Chinese woman has created "Cat City". Since the old Chinese are the definition of Old Skool, they have taken over all of the areas in between apartments that in most societies would be used by the whole instead of the few. It is like I'm living on gang turf, and a tough bunch of rough senior Chinese have become the equivalent of the Crips and the Bloods combined. Anyways, this woman has taken every stray board she could find to create a shanty town for stray cats, all together there are twelve cats in "Cat City" and their numbers are growing. There are Chinese men playing Chinese checkers all day long; Chinese doing their laundry outsideby hand; Chinese playing badminton from the early morning until the night, and Chinese people who look at me as if they have seen a ghost; so in a nutshell you could say I don't exactly fit in around here.
The only group of other young people in my building are these five Archaelogy major girls who live in the apartment upstairs and dance to Lady Gaga music sometimes until late at night. This would be a lot funnier if we didn't share a common wall, and it makes life more than difficult when I hear their pit-pattering feed dancing to the beat at the midnight hour. A few nights ago a piece of the wall celing actually broke and hit me in the head while I was sleeping...not cool. One of the girls bought a rabbit about a month ago from a street peddler and it had been living in a cage not to far away from cat city in the courtyard area. Why she didn't move it into the safer confines of their apartment I still don't really understand, but the rabbit seemed to be a huge hit with the old fogie community that domintes the streets in my hood. Anyways, the girls (five of them live in the same size apartment as me) grew extremely attached to the rabbit, and for a rabbit this white furball appeared to be living a nice existence. This last Friday night I went out to dinner with some friends and around eight P.M. I walked by the rabbit cage and saw this spooky ancient Chinaman with less teeth than I have fingers staring at the rabbit like he either wanted to: make love to the rabbit, or eat the rabbit. At the time I didn't think much of it but when I woke up the next morning the rabbit was gone. I called the girls and they said that they were told by one of the neighbors at exactly 8:15 P.M. last night that the rabbit was not in the cage, and by simple process of elimination I deduced that this old Chinaman must have taken the rabbit to his room for either a one-night stand or to to take a hot bath in a boiling cauldron or water
The girls were sad at first but not manic as they had assumed that the rabbit must have escaped his cage and would come back soon. I explained to them that I was pretty sure this old Chinese fellow I had seen last night had taken the rabbit, and that he most definitely ATE the rabbit. I am such an idiot! For the last 48 hours the five girls have been crying non-stop. Their screaming, wailing, and other random extremely loud acts of sadness have made it so that I have not slept more than a few hours for the last two days. If I see that Chinaman who ate the rabbit I am going to punch him in the face.
I think that's enough blogging for now, but next time I will get into the magnificent mockery I have made of the Chinese educational system. I have taken my role of teacher and designed it around the principle that "The teacher is always right". Therefore, I've been running the show like a young dictator in his prime and have become extremely fond of the omnipotent powers that I now possess. It's way better than invisibility. The students never question me and do exactly as I say. For those students that don't already have English names, I have ruled that it is the teacher's job to also give them American names. In a tribute to many of my friends from the United States I have put together quite an exotic assortment of rather unusual named students. Some people collect stamps, I collect weird names for Chinese students, so far I have: Caesar (four times over), Mauricio, Georgie, Smokey, Grouse, Maradona, Esperanza, and many, many more. I just can't imagine that there are a lot of Chinese people these days calling themselves Mauricio. I also have developed a rather effective policy towards coming to class late...public embarrassment. I make any student who comes in late sing a song of my choosing. I love it when they tell me that they hate to sing, as this is exactly the answer I am looking for.
That's it for now, next time I'll post some pictures of my students and discuss some of the funnier stories I have experienced as a teacher/white devil. The irony is that the university thinks I am a kind and wonderful man and have already offered me a contract extension complete with more money and power.
It's good to be back,
Professor Atkinson
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