Treasures

I don’t seem to get enough time to regularly update this blog, but I have been making lists of 2-3 word phrases that are intended to jog my memory on the event. I hope it works.
These stories round out until the end of October and I’ll see what I can muster up for the last couple weeks asap.
The first 3 are: ‘Davis Microphone’, ‘Chinese Guy, Russian Penis, and of course, ‘Girl on Bus’. At first glance, these are quite funny events, but I’m going to give you the chance to imagine, before I get to it.
…
‘Davis Microphone’
Typically, when Adam and I skype, there is usually some kind of problem. Sometimes the connection isn’t strong, sometimes microphones are faulty, but its usually not my computer that has the problem. I could here Adam, but he couldn’t here me. I tried adjusting my microphone settings 10 times, I turned on/off my VPN, I turned on and off skype and just couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t hear me. He checked the volume on his speakers and they were on. What could be the problem? Adam (as I could hear him) wanted to play a song for me from his iPod. Once he finished saying that, he started laughing, because he has obviously discovered the problem with my sound. Adam had unplugged the speakers of his computer and connected it to his iPod, so obviously, he couldn’t hear me.

‘Chinese Guy, Russian Penis’
Looking back at the name of this epic, I know that it was labelled a little wrong, but enough to remind me of what actually happened. I was sitting with my roommate at a small restaurant near our place.
This restaurant could NEVER pass a health inspection in Toronto. In the mornings, when we walk by on the way to work, there is usually someone sitting on the ground outside, peeling vegetables that are laid out in piles on the walkway up to the door. I happen to have about 4 meals a week at this little hole-in-the-wall.
So one night it was particularly busy (given the 7 tables and 20 stools available in this crammed little space) and the guy sitting behind me bumped me and apologized. We started talking and drinking together along with my roommate and his friend. After a few ‘ganbei’s (empty-glass ie cheers), he started telling us about when he lived in Russia. He told us that one time he ‘had’ a Russian woman. He told us that he wasn’t able to perform, because Russians are ‘bigger’ and Chinese are ‘smaller’. Then, he told me that I should probably go to Russia.

‘Girl on Bus’
I got off the subway to buy a metro-card and asked the security guard where to find them. Before he could answer, this girl, who was in the subway car with me, piped in and instructed me to follow her, because she was going the same way. She took me to the kiosk that I could understand clearly in both English and Chinese was the place to buy tickets for the airport expressway and that the card I wanted was now on the other side of the station. She asked for the card and they said she was in the wrong place. She took me to the other kiosk and then I bought the metro-card. I left and headed to the taxi stand. I was running late to meet some friends for dinner, but the black taxis didn’t want to take me. The girl reappears and tells me that she’ll show me to the bus I need. Then she told me that she was going the same way. Then she asked where I was going. Then I told her. Hmm. As we’re on the bus, I get a call to meet at the restaurant, not my friends place, so I then needed to get off one stop earlier. I try to get off the bus at my updated destination, but she kept telling me that it was the wrong stop and then the bus driver wouldn’t let me off because it was the wrong stop. Obviously, it was the right stop. I got off at the next one and so did the girl. I gave her my card and sprinted in the opposite direction back and it took me another 30 minutes to get to dinner. She is henceforth known as ‘Bus Girl’
‘Taiwan Lady’
I’m biking back to work from the bank and this guy tries to make a u-turn, which consequently cut me off. If he, unlike any other Chinese person, decided to be patient, I would have missed this. I slam on my brakes to see this black Audi get the bottom of his front bumper stuck on the curb in front of me. He tried reversing and going forward. Both movements created this wretched noise that indicated he’d need a new paint job. I continued on my way. Not even a block later, I see grandmothers and mothers pushing little children in strollers across the street towards me as I cross the other way. A taxi, who had a red light, decided to rush through and try to make the left hand turn between the little children and myself. I stop my bike right in front of his car and begin shouting and cursing at him to be careful of children crossing the road. A bystander complimented me on my courage and continued to talk with me. After she had long criticized the incivility of Beijing, she noted that she was actually from Taiwan, and had lived in Edinburgh, which she pronounced Edin-Berg, I didn’t correct her, but thought about whether I had known any Edin-Bergs, closely related to the Feldbergs, from either Jewish School or summer camp. I didn’t. Then after she had put herself on this worthy pedestal of being Taiwanese AND having lived in Edin-Berg, she mentioned that she was a Christian in these words., “ Well you see, I am a Christian” I really don’t know who coined that term, but I find it to have a strange effect on conversations thereafter. Clearly, in the manner and tone , she is quite proud that she is neither Buddhist nor Communist (is that a religion?), but rather of the enlightened tribe of the West: Christianity. Since I am from the West and not Christian, I wondered what she would have said, but frankly, I lost interest and biked back to work.

‘HSBC card Canada’
Back in Toronto, I did everything in my power to get all of my banking setup before I came. Considering I already had an accounts at HSBC in China and Canada, this should have been easy as pie. Turns out, there is no pie here, making it quite difficult. After sending emails between my Canadian and Chinese branches, it seemed as though, I had one simple step to complete upon landing and then all would be well. After having remembered my brilliant initial experience with HSBC China in 2008, I knew it would be an adventure. After 3 complimentary espressos and 5 orange candies, I sat down with my new bank rep. I filled out my new address and updated my info. She told me that my new bank card and code thingy would be mailed to me there. In the meantime, I could only withdraw money from my Canadian account. I came back a couple days later to make sure that I hadn’t missed anything. This time I had a new rep, who double checked that all would be sent to my address in China and reminded me that it would take about a month to receive it all, because of the Chinese holidays. I get an email 3 weeks later from my dad. ‘Josh: I have your Chinese bank card. Why?’ I go back to the bank and some how they reversed my info and mailed the card all the way to Canada. I went into the bank to see if it had arrived, and still nothing, but they told me that my code thingy had come and that if I have my passport, they could release it to me. There are at least 3 people in that branch who can verify that they have seen my passport, photocopied it and could identify me in a court of law, but for some reason, they require me to return with my passport. So still no card, or number thingy.
Continuation of the story (written today):
I went back and finally got my card and code token. I set up my ‘Global View’ setting which is designed to transfer money between accounts internationally. I ask them to show me how to use it. She says that it’s only to view balances, not to transfer money. We try anyway and it says that ‘one of the countries does not support this service.’ IMMEDIATELY, she told me that it’s because I haven’t yet activated it in Canada. I told her it was something China related. We call the Canadian customer service and they immediately tell me that China doesn’t support these money transfers. Now, it costs me $30/transfer from my own bank accounts all at HSBC.

‘and every morning I wake up to the brightness. ironically that comes from the white cloud matter by my window rather than sunlight’
that’s a long title, especially for something this insignificant. Mostly, the sky here is grey. If you see a shadow, it means that the sun isn’t eclipsed by grey shit in the sky (that, in other places, is called clouds), but actually it has been sunny the last week or so. It was about 2 degrees all week and then last weekend was 20. I would say that my temperature gauge is broken, but its more likely that Beijing’s weather patterns are affected by pollution and cloud-seeding.

‘Chumus or Humus?’
I suggest watching HBO’s Hung season 2, episode 7 for more insight on the matter.
I found this great Israeli restaurant that makes amazing chumus and pita, which is simply heaven. I go once a week now.

‘Treasure Trail’
I was at a market and was trying on a belt. My shirt came up a bit and the salesgirl touch my hairy belly button. She giggled. I was disgusted and walked away.

‘Halloween, selling fans’
On Halloween, I dressed up as a Silk Street vendor. Silk Street is a 6-floor indoor market that sells fake shit to tourists at negotiable prices. I bought their little red vest and a matching red pouch. From when I was at Expo, I had a box of pink fans that said Angola on them. It was my goal for the evening to sell a fan, to anyone for any price. These fans are junky, totally worthless and the perfect proof that Chinese people just like owning things. I tried to sell them on the bus, but people complained that it was too cold.
This was my schtick: [while fanning myself ] ‘excuse me, would like to buy this fan? I’ll give you a good deal; a special price just for you. Very, very cheap. It came all the way from Angola, how could you say no? how much you say? Well, since I like you, you get the special price, 200 kuai. Very good, just for you.’
They mostly said no. then one guy who was walking by, was rudely interrupt by myself and my schtick. He after the afformentioned line, he said that he would give me 5 kuai, I told him 100. He pulled out 20 kuai from his pocket and I gave him the fan. He paid me the equivalent of $3 US and I was ecstatic.
Later on that night, we went to a party where a Chinese guy was fully dressed in an SS officer’s uniform. He didn’t last long until he was asked to leave by enough people. 真不好意思。