Last bits and pieces of China

excperts from my report home, Feb 2016

A little bit cold 

So with the completion of my (not very difficult - we're international students come on!) exams, Wei-Yan and I set off on a little adventure. We went north - so north we almost bordered Russia - to a city called Harbin. We went to see the International Ice and Snow Sculpture Festival - well, that is what we tell everyone. The real (or at least other half of the) reason was to see what temperatures of -20 to -30 deg are like.

 I can personally verify that is it is cold. 

Everything, well, freezes. Our hair froze, our breath-saturated masks froze, the water in my bottle in my backpack froze, our eye lashes froze. Our internal organs, however, fared suprisingly well, thanks to the (yes, maybe over 100) nuan bao bao's we had bulk bought online. The nuan bao bao  is an incredible asian invention - large teabag-like packets filled with charcoal like powder which spontaneously emits heat on exposure to air. They come in various forms - to stick to your torso, your toes, to put in your pockets or gloves. We even stuck them to our phones as we found electronic devices don't hold charge in those temperatures (how do people survive??). The only inconvenience was that the nuan bao bao  needs to be changed every couple of hours, much like a baby needs its diaper changed. 

A little bit dissapointed

This year, Yan and I joined the 'mass internal migration' during Chinese New Year,  bussing to our relative's hometown. Because of the crowds (and, perhaps, our 60+ kg of luggage we were lugging (Yan was flying home straight after)) we couldn't physically get to our bus in time to board. When we got to the gate and  realised the bus had left without us, we couldn't back out, for the crowds pushing up against us, and so stayed squashed against the counter for an hour until we got seats on another bus. 

Now this didnt really suprise me but something else did:

Since young, Chinese New Year has always been a time where we've tried to be really chinese.  It usually consisted of us raiding the wardrobes to find chinese clothing (I always got the cheong sam Mum had tailored for her fathers birthday, Wei-Yan would find (and still fit into) some chinese kids pyjamas and poor Wei-Lin always seemed to end up draped in a chinese table cloth), donning red lipstick and white foundation and strutting round the house with sunbrellas collecting money-filled red packets from our bemused parents (and other unsuspecting guests). 

So, come the very important New Year's Eve family reunion dinner,  to my dissappointment, nobody dressed up. My aunty came straight in from the kitchen and sat down, still in her apron. My cousin wore track pants, my uncle looked like he was in those acceptable-to-wear-outside PJs and even Yan and I (at the call to dinner at 4.12pm!!) found ourselves still in our jeans, 5 layers of thermas/Merinos and puffer jacket we had been wearing every day during our travels (it was so cold inside the house I'd have worn my beanie, gloves and mask too if I could eat in them). And we only scored one red packet each.

What didnt dissapoint, however was the food: we lost count of the dishes at number 23 (no wonder my aunty didnt have time to do her hair!) which included delicacies such as goose, embryonated chicken eggs and dog (yes, its true, Chinese do eat dog....)

Sometimes reality is far from our preconceptions.    

A whole lot of satisfaction

But then again, is that not what we discover every day in our travels?  My year in China was - of course - fun... but not so much fun as it was interesting -  deeply interesting not so much for the things I did or saw or ate, but for the experience of living as a banana in the Motherland. At times I was an undercover Westerner with glee, at others I just wanted to go home where people would understand and accept me (!!). Although I will never be (nor ever marry*) a zhong guo ren (Lit: 'chinaman'), I feel I have a very much deepr understanding of this incredible country and the strange (and seemingly socially inappropriate at times) habits of her resilient people. And, I can speak chinese, which is 100% non-useful for my career as a vet. Still I would deem it all one of the most worthwhile things I have ever done 

 

A little bit frozen

*I couldnt hack a chinese mother-in-law