It doesn't matter where you go in this world, it seems a haircut will cost you about a 10 spot of the local currency. That means 10 bucks in America (outside the north east), 10 pounds in London and 10 RMB in China. Yup, I get my haircuts for about a dollar-twenty five. As you can imagine they're not the finest haircuts I've ever had, but when you look at it like an experience it becomes well worth the money.
First they wash your hair, which may sound mundane, but instead of just throwing in some shampoo and rinsing it out and being done with it, they slowly, carefully massage your head, scraping away excess shampoo with their hands and throwing it in the trash! When the massage is finished (this takes about 10 minutes) they wash out your hair in the reclining sink. Upon returning to the chair, you're greeted by a neck, back and arm massage. Before they even touch a hair on your head you feel looser than a leaf in November. Finally they cut your hair, no small feat considering hand motions are the exclusive form of communication usually. To top it off they give another rinse to your hair before styling it for your big night out!
There are drawbacks - part of the massage is sticking a quetip up your ear to clean the wax out. I usually refuse this part, it's freaky and dangerous. They also don't really give great haircuts. They're alright, but they always thin my hair out too much. Chinese hair is very thick; my hair is thin and fine, so when they thin it out I look like I'm going suddenly bald. But, for less than a buck and a half, what can I expect?
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The apartment
People may debate what are the 'basic necessities' in life, but unless you live out of a van or a Toyota Corolla, everyone agrees that a place to live is pretty important. Having a clean, safe, 'home' to return to at the end of a long day can make all the difference, especially when you're in a strange place (and Shanghai still counts as a strange place). With my current lease expiring at the end of the month, and due to various reasons, I've decided I need to move away from the neighborhood I've grown to love (yup, I'm moving away from Noodles), if only to save myself from the impending mosquito onslaught everyone has promised will strike Shanghai in mid-July.
Moving is not new to me. Since I left for college 6 years ago, I've called as many as 9 different places 'home', which means I've grown rather adept at moving. But this may have been the closest I've ever come to being homeless... as in failing to find a new place to live before being kicked out on the street.
The last apartment I looked at sounded perfect. Sounded. 28th floor, private room, private bathroom, 2 subway stops from work and right between the main 'going out' part of Shanghai and the more atmospheric 'old town'. The reality was a narrow windowless-hallway of a room with a twin bed, and somewhere on the other side of the flat was a squat toilet I could call my very own. Throw in the fact I needed to crawl through a window to get to the sink to brush my teeth and the current tenant said they were moving cuz they don't trust the landlord and you have the single worst apartment I've ever seen.
Thankfully my new landlord will not give me any problems; I work with him. I'll get my own room with a fantastic view of the downtown. Plus, the new room will cut my commute in half. I'll have to learn a whole new neighborhood, but I look at it as an exciting opportunity, almost like moving to a new city! But the best part might be that I won't have to sleep in the streets.
Moving is not new to me. Since I left for college 6 years ago, I've called as many as 9 different places 'home', which means I've grown rather adept at moving. But this may have been the closest I've ever come to being homeless... as in failing to find a new place to live before being kicked out on the street.
The last apartment I looked at sounded perfect. Sounded. 28th floor, private room, private bathroom, 2 subway stops from work and right between the main 'going out' part of Shanghai and the more atmospheric 'old town'. The reality was a narrow windowless-hallway of a room with a twin bed, and somewhere on the other side of the flat was a squat toilet I could call my very own. Throw in the fact I needed to crawl through a window to get to the sink to brush my teeth and the current tenant said they were moving cuz they don't trust the landlord and you have the single worst apartment I've ever seen.
Thankfully my new landlord will not give me any problems; I work with him. I'll get my own room with a fantastic view of the downtown. Plus, the new room will cut my commute in half. I'll have to learn a whole new neighborhood, but I look at it as an exciting opportunity, almost like moving to a new city! But the best part might be that I won't have to sleep in the streets.
Friday, June 20, 2008
La Cucaracha
I'm moving out of my apartment at the end of the month. It won't be a moment too soon. I know cockroaches weren't a biblical plague, but believe me, Moses might have wanted to re-think it (frogs aren't that scary). My apartment is crawling with these little guys, and its starting to really piss me off.
Being on the ground floor, it makes us especially susceptible to these guys walking up the drains into our house. They scamper and scatter, running from the light and any approaching person, but not fast enough to be invisible, not even fast enough to avoid potential squashing (I wield the New Balance of Death). But if I kill them, it creates a gross mess which I don't want to clean up. The result is I don't kill them, which naturally means they'll never disappear, but I don't think it would make a difference anyway, these things can survive the nuclear holocaust, I think they'll survive the New Balance holocaust.
Nothing is more depressing than watching TV and having to pause the movie to wave a pillow at the door to your room, dissuading the eager 2 inch cockroach from sticking his antenna any closer. If I wasn't leaving, maybe I'd have the energy to do something, maybe I'd try to spray Raid on the drains at night, but the fact of the matter is I am leaving. And I'm going to live way up in a high rise where I can ignore the 11th plague of Shanghai.
Being on the ground floor, it makes us especially susceptible to these guys walking up the drains into our house. They scamper and scatter, running from the light and any approaching person, but not fast enough to be invisible, not even fast enough to avoid potential squashing (I wield the New Balance of Death). But if I kill them, it creates a gross mess which I don't want to clean up. The result is I don't kill them, which naturally means they'll never disappear, but I don't think it would make a difference anyway, these things can survive the nuclear holocaust, I think they'll survive the New Balance holocaust.
Nothing is more depressing than watching TV and having to pause the movie to wave a pillow at the door to your room, dissuading the eager 2 inch cockroach from sticking his antenna any closer. If I wasn't leaving, maybe I'd have the energy to do something, maybe I'd try to spray Raid on the drains at night, but the fact of the matter is I am leaving. And I'm going to live way up in a high rise where I can ignore the 11th plague of Shanghai.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Celtics
Still waking up and a little groggy, I turned on my TV this morning to be delightfully surprised to see my Boston Celtics crushing the hated LA Lakers by 30 points. After the initial joy of realizing my team was going to win the NBA championship, I could only wish I'd woken up earlier to see more of the butt-whoopin'. Plus, this was certainly a better way to show up to work than after the Super Bowl. As the game was winding down and I was preparing for a days worth of work (watching sports in the morning is weird), I did the only logical thing I could think of... I wore all green to work today to celebrate.
China loves basketball, so all the finals games were part of morning TV on the network sports channel. True, the announcers were speaking Chinese, but 'blow-out' is the same in all languages. Over the past two weeks not a day has gone by that I didn't see a Lakers or Celtics jersey here, but we all know China's favorite team is the Rockets (I've heard Houston referred to as Yao Ming's City before). But its nice to be able to celebrate something, which unlike the last two sports championships, my students can understand and relate to.
All and all I wonder if I chose the wrong year to come to China. I mean, between the Red Sox, Patriots and Celtics, this may have been the greatest year Boston sports will ever know. I can take comfort in the fact that I saw the Red Sox win (in person) and watched the Patriots right up until the end (when it got sad). But this would have been my first NBA title since I was 2. Guess they'll have to do it again next year when I can be a little closer to home... that is, if I am.
As an extra bonus, today marks exactly 6 months in China for me. Its the midway point, or you could say its all downhill from here. Perhaps I'll have more thoughts on that later for you, but for now I'll treat you to an Oscar worthy picture montage of my time in China so far... enjoy
China loves basketball, so all the finals games were part of morning TV on the network sports channel. True, the announcers were speaking Chinese, but 'blow-out' is the same in all languages. Over the past two weeks not a day has gone by that I didn't see a Lakers or Celtics jersey here, but we all know China's favorite team is the Rockets (I've heard Houston referred to as Yao Ming's City before). But its nice to be able to celebrate something, which unlike the last two sports championships, my students can understand and relate to.
All and all I wonder if I chose the wrong year to come to China. I mean, between the Red Sox, Patriots and Celtics, this may have been the greatest year Boston sports will ever know. I can take comfort in the fact that I saw the Red Sox win (in person) and watched the Patriots right up until the end (when it got sad). But this would have been my first NBA title since I was 2. Guess they'll have to do it again next year when I can be a little closer to home... that is, if I am.
As an extra bonus, today marks exactly 6 months in China for me. Its the midway point, or you could say its all downhill from here. Perhaps I'll have more thoughts on that later for you, but for now I'll treat you to an Oscar worthy picture montage of my time in China so far... enjoy
Sunday, June 15, 2008
The Parent's Visit
Nothing like a visit from Mom and Dad (and Sis) to use as an excuse for a vacation. I'm fresh of a week long holiday (courtesy of Mom and Dad) to all important sights in Shanghai and Xi'an. After 4 days of playing tour guide in Shanghai, I was afforded the chance to relax myself on a 3 day guided tour of Xi'an. Most importantly, however, was getting to see my family whom I haven't seen in nearly 6 months.
In Shanghai I was charged with showing them all the sights, without allowing anyone to drop dead from exhaustion. Though our days were long and full of sightseeing, the ubiquitous $3 cab ride to anywhere in the city eased our minds and feet. We zigged to Chinese Gardens, zagged back to towering skyscrapers, then zigged again to buy tailor made jackets at the fabric market. In between all this, I took my family to as many 'authentic' restaurants as I could, a fact that became more obvious when we had 'tourist' dinners arranged for us in Xi'an. Between the Hot Pot King, steamed dumplings, fancy Cantonese restaurants and a trip to the sacred Noodles, my family feasted and conversed, catching up without the use of the Internet for a change.
In Xi'an our lives were made simple by the wise decision to pre-hire a tour. Our guide met us at the airport, drove us to our hotel, then picked us up for dinner and all the sight seeing every day. Rather wonderful really, as many of the sights were outside of town and separated from each other. Clearly the highlight of the city was the terracotta warrior sight: football fields filled with statues (or rather pieces of statues, all were broken and most still need to be reassembled). Yet every silver lining has a dark cloud, and our dark cloud was a dearth of authentic food provided in the restaurants we were taken too. Having feasted in back-alley cafes in Shanghai, the shock of blander than boiled celery, middle-American, pseudo-Chinese food was a bit of a disappointment. However I wouldn't have traded the guided tour for anything; I could only stretch the illusion that I can speak Chinese so far before its apparent (A) we're eating the same thing at every meal, or (B) we get some really funky part of the body nobody wants to eat. Thankfully it never came to that, so the illusion remains intact. Nothing like parents marveling at an underdeveloped skill to boost your self confidence. Thanks for coming Mom and Dad.
In Shanghai I was charged with showing them all the sights, without allowing anyone to drop dead from exhaustion. Though our days were long and full of sightseeing, the ubiquitous $3 cab ride to anywhere in the city eased our minds and feet. We zigged to Chinese Gardens, zagged back to towering skyscrapers, then zigged again to buy tailor made jackets at the fabric market. In between all this, I took my family to as many 'authentic' restaurants as I could, a fact that became more obvious when we had 'tourist' dinners arranged for us in Xi'an. Between the Hot Pot King, steamed dumplings, fancy Cantonese restaurants and a trip to the sacred Noodles, my family feasted and conversed, catching up without the use of the Internet for a change.
In Xi'an our lives were made simple by the wise decision to pre-hire a tour. Our guide met us at the airport, drove us to our hotel, then picked us up for dinner and all the sight seeing every day. Rather wonderful really, as many of the sights were outside of town and separated from each other. Clearly the highlight of the city was the terracotta warrior sight: football fields filled with statues (or rather pieces of statues, all were broken and most still need to be reassembled). Yet every silver lining has a dark cloud, and our dark cloud was a dearth of authentic food provided in the restaurants we were taken too. Having feasted in back-alley cafes in Shanghai, the shock of blander than boiled celery, middle-American, pseudo-Chinese food was a bit of a disappointment. However I wouldn't have traded the guided tour for anything; I could only stretch the illusion that I can speak Chinese so far before its apparent (A) we're eating the same thing at every meal, or (B) we get some really funky part of the body nobody wants to eat. Thankfully it never came to that, so the illusion remains intact. Nothing like parents marveling at an underdeveloped skill to boost your self confidence. Thanks for coming Mom and Dad.
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