Someone has really crappy aim (gross)

Warning: This post is gross

I discovered this little gem while wandering around Huaqing Jiayuan in Wudaokou a few weeks ago. I held off on posting it because we were in the middle of the 'I'll Bite' series. And because I couldn't decide how to post this without committing food blog suicide.

Actually, I still haven't figured that out; I'm just posting it anyway. Besides, this technically isn't a food blog. It isn't even specifically a China blog. It's just randomness.

So at the extreme risk of alienating our 11 faithful readers, I present to you my latest attempt at photojournalism:

Crap Aim

Okay, so some friends and I walked past this cup and did a double take. "What the crap?" we literally thought as we pulled out our camera phones.

We've been here in Beijing for almost three years now, and our "Only in China" posts have become less frequent. I like to tell myself it's because we've adjusted to life here and things just don't confound us they way they used to. But it's entirely possible we've just gotten lazy.

But this little guy burst through our complacent quasi-adjustment and left us reeling in confusion.

Beyond just being (slightly) grossed out and now having passed that on to you, I'm really fascinated by this (that doesn't surprise you, now does it?). What's the story here?

What would possess someone to deposit a turd in a cup and leave it on the wooden steps outside of a real estate agency. Malice? Perversion? OCD?

We'll never know the truth. We're left to roam this world in ignorance, haunted by the image of a lonely defiled chalice.

So that's it. Turd in a cup. And for that, I'm sorry. I promise next time I'll write about something delicious and un-scatological.

Elevator

Earlier this week, M and I were running late, only to discover that the elevators in out building were broken. Mind you, we live on the 25th floor and were planning to scoot to our appointment. So we had to put the scooter away and run down the stairs (we're so out of shape that our legs were sore for days after).

When we got back that night, one of the elevators had been restored to working order. But the other had some strange pump sucking a brownish liquid out of the shaft.

The next night, the elevator was still broken, and they had this contraption going on.

We had a good laugh. But now that I think about it, I'll be entrusting my life to the efficacy of a hair-dryer on a fuse box the next time I step in that elevaor (which, of course, runs under the faulty assumption that the elevator will eventually be fixed).

Posted via email from Beijing Dou

One of these things...

is not like the other?

One yuan, thirty seven seconds, and twenty one minutes

Shanghai was awesome. The four of us are all big fans of the affectionately dubbed 'XLB' (xiaolongbao for the unitiated), so we hit up a bunch of different places, from OG street style to fancy hotels. Sustaining plenty of mild tongue burns in the process.

Quick Only in China moment:

We were at a touristy street food area near the Yu Gardens and Cheng Huang Miao (City God Temple?) and I stopped to use the public toilet. When I got to the entrance, they were charging a fee: 1rmb! That's freaking highway robbery here. But I had to pee, so I paid it. I'm glad I did, because once I got inside, I noticed this:


They have timers on the stalls (有人 means Occupied)! At first I thought they were counting down, like 1rmb only bought like 5 minutes on the squatter, but they're actually counting up. Which kind of sucks for the dude on this particular squatting pan...

Not really sure why they do this, but I think it's because here in the Motherland, they don't line up in one line, but line up in front of individual stalls, so this way, you're well informed on which stall to start your stakeout.

Glad to see my entrance fees are being put to good use.

Icechairing

Last Sunday, our friends (we'll call S and C) wanted to check out the 北大 (Peking University) campus. Unfortunately for M, she was sick at home with the some kind of strange stomach virus, which took her out for a few days, so she couldn't go exploring with us.

We started at the East Gate of the university and worked our way in, stopping only to play a bit of hackey-sack on the steps of a somewhat imposing library facade. As we wandered, we noticed arrows pointing out the way to a lake, and we couldn't resist. We did get lost a few times, but we found it eventually. The lake was (mostly) frozen over, and apparently in China when lakes (mostly) freeze, swarms of industrious businessmen and women flock to peddle their wares. Ice skates, carmelized haw on a sharp stick, books, etc.

But what really got us were these badboys:


Old school (as in kindergarten circa 1985) chairs nailed to planks of wood atop two rusty runners, throw in a couple metal spikes with which to get around, and you've got yourself a winner. Not until after I picked it did I realize that my chair didn't have a back, just two posts of a wood with a couple passes of packing tape across the back.

Next to the icechairs, they had real ice skates for the same price, but ice skating is out, chairs are the new skate.

(I have a sneaking suspicion they were invented for Chinese grandparents who want to keep a watchful eye on their budding ice princesses and ice princes.)

The icechair vendor had a tandem chair set, but he charged extra, so S and I decided to rent our own. C opted to walk out on the ice, although when tempted, he caved and rode a chair for a bit.

10rmb ($1.50) for as long as we wanted out on the ice, which ended up being about 20 minutes. S and I raced a couple times, but my chair was more defective than his, so whoever was in my chair lost. It was pure adrenaline weaving between the bumbling kids on ice skates, fellow icechairers, and the occasional suspicious-looking-burn-marked pothole filled with firework scraps.


We haven't really been keeping up with the Only in China posts, but I'm pretty sure this counts as one.

Only in China (Lightbulb Edition)

Late Friday afternoon, M and I returned from a trip to the Silk Market, where we had bought some shoes for me and boots for her. (Random tidbit: I hate wearing shoes, but I like to buy them. Having lived in Ann Arbor and now Beijing, though, I've gotten to wear the shoes I've bought much more often than when I lived in California.) We opened the door to our apartment and turned on the light. There was a bright flash, a snap, crackle, pop, and then glass shattered onto the floor in front of us. As you can guess, one of the lightbulbs had exploded. Oh, China.

All the power in our apartment was fried. Thankfully, the management of our place is helpful, so we called them to see if they could send someone up to look at what happened. We figured it was probably just a short and we could reset the fuses to restore power. But when your lightbulbs are exploding, it's worth having a "professional" take a look. While we waited for the maintenance guys to come, I swept up the bits up burnt broken glass. Eventually, the guys showed up and took a look around. They mumbled something about how it was just a short and flipped a few switches, which turned the power back on. They did offer to change our lightbulbs for 5rmb once we had bought replacements.

Now I've developed a semi-conscious habit of not standing under lightbulbs. I guess it's the "avoid shards of flaming glass embedded in my skull" instinct kicking in. The thing about Only in China moments is they can often be followed up with "Wow! If I'd only been [a foot closer / a moment sooner / a day later] I might have been [killed / maimed / neutered].

On Drainage (Only in China)

Don't ever take drainage for granted, my friends. Not ever. Otherwise your plumbing karma will have you banished to some far-off land where drainage is at best an afterthought, if thought of at all.

For example, you know that saying "It never rains but it pours"? It's never really made all that much sense to me, but sense or nonsense, the Chinese version is "It never rains, but it floods." Drainage is so poorly thought out that often what seems like a light rain will collect on the ground and in the streets.

We've tolerated this for a few months now, but this morning, the drainage problem struck a little closer to home. Our bathroom is what one lady at BICF affectionately called a showlet. It's really quite common, a shower head installed next to a toilet, with only a shower curtain separating the two. Two drains on either side of the toilet let the water slowly drain (which runs all over the bathroom since there's no standalone shower). The drains have been working decently, but they're nothing to write home about (ironic, since that's exactly what I'm doing write now). Every once in a while we notice the odd smell coming up from them, usually garlic or smoke from our neighbors next door. And of course the usual foul smells associated with bathroom duties. But for China, not so bad. Liveable at least.

However, the past few days they'd been burping a little. I'd noticed they were draining really slowly and would hiccup if the toilet was flushed. I guess I should have seen it coming...

This morning Marilyn left bright and early for the arts festival that's hosted by the studio she's been interning at. I took my time getting up, groggily checked my email, then hopped in the shower. On my way out, I shot an icy glare at our semifunctional hiccupy drains.

A couple hours later, I walked past the bathroom on the way to the kitchen and beheld a most terrifying sight. (At this point, I would usually post a picture. I took pictures...but the image is so scarring, so terrible, that I'm actually going to spare you. Which, as most of you should know, is saying a lot.) The drains had finally had it. In what I can only describe as an explosion of sorts, the drain by the shower had uncapped and spewed forth all manner of sewage onto our bathroom floor. I shrieked. I called Marilyn, who was in the middle of the screening, and told her what had happened. Since she was busy, I would have to call our housing association myself. So, in broken Chinese, I tried to explain to them what happened. At one point I picked up a dictionary to try and look words up. It was then that I learned that my dictionary does not have the word "poo" or "poop" in it. Utterly useless! Unable to explain what happened, I just kept repeating in Chinese "There's a problem in the bathroom." To which they finally agreed to come have a look. When they got here, they told Marilyn that the drains probably hadn't been cleared for some time and it would cost 30RMB to have it cleared. One of the workers left to go get some machine, and the other poked around the drains a bit. We cleaned some of the crap off the floor, and then the inquisitive worker designed to to try flushing the toilet. *Whoosh!* *Blurp!* Even more sewage came bubbling up from the now uncapped drains. I was able to restrain myself from having a pseudo-OCD/germophobic panic attack, but it was a close one. The other worker returned with some kind of soviet-era drain snake of a device and commenced clearing the drains. As the understatement of the month, it was messy. Finally the drains cleared, and the workers left, leaving me with a floor full of poop and sewage to mop up.

You know what the irony of all this is? One of the common toilet brands I've seen in China, of which ours is one, is "American Standard." American standard, my (literal) butt! I've even seen American Standard branded squattie potties. That's just blatant false advertising (almost as bad as California Beef Noodle King)! Trust me, choice few American standards would put up with some of the "crap that goes down" here.

So there it is: a cautionary tale for those of you who take this stuff for granted. Enjoy your spotless bathrooms, your freedom from unknown mal-odors and semi-functional drainage.

I'm still a bit shaken up. But we both know it could have been A LOT worse. So, for now, I'll count my blessings and cut my losses.

Only in China (at home)

Last week sometime, Marilyn and I were walking into the elevator of our apartment complex when we noticed a new sign posted on the wall. Marilyn stopped to try and read it. "What's it say? Stop pooping in the hallways?" I asked half-seriously. Surprised, Marilyn replied, "Actually, yeah. Something like that. How'd you know?" I shrugged and walked into the elevator.

Wow. I tell you what. Wow.

To their credit, I will say that people in our building have a lot of babies and dogs, neither of which have the best record for not pooping in hallways. So I'm hoping that it's not the adults that are willfully defecating in our public areas. Those of you who have been to China know that the babies here usually have open pants so they can just poo and pee whenever and wherever they see fit. Think of it as an eco-friendly diaper.

This little guy is a particularly heinous example of Chinese baby dress. Basically a glorified bib...I guess it really ups the stakes for potty training. I'd like to point out that this shot was taken on the subway.

Only in China (iphone edition)

So I've been thinking, we do have to qualify this whole Only in China business. It's true that some of these Only in China stories/pictures probably happen in other places; yeah, yeah, false advertising. But you have to admit, some of these somehow capture the strange mixtures of 3rd world/developed, rural/urban, complete disregard for rules/hyper-ordinance that make China, well, China. Only in China moments are just those experiences that jarringly snap us out of normal living (that is post-culture-shock Beijing life) and make us go "Wuhh? Oh yeah, we're in China!"

Before we left, I got M Dou a nice camera for our anniversary. The only thing is, it's really conspicuous. I mean really. Our friend Liz calls it an NFA camera. Since we don't have the 3 foot lenses that our studly friends Jerry and Ingrid use (shameless plug for the best wedding photographers evarrr), it's really hard to snap pictures of Only in China moments with the big guns. So I've been surreptitiously capturing these moments with my iphone. I know the pictures are blurry and craptacular, but it's not about the picture. The picture's just proof that these things actually happened.

Without further ado, Only in China (iphone edition):

Chopstick Lock

Spotted this today at dinner. The bolt had come off the lock in the bathroom and the lock on the doorknob no longer worked (I think I spy tape next to the doorknob, too), so some industrious restaurant worker had improvised this sweet little setup. The moment I spotted this, a mental image went through my head: some guy in a hurry pushes on the door, the chopstick breaks, and the poor guy accidentally stumbles into the bathroom, makes awkward eye contact with the current occupant before hastily retreating.

ipoo

One of my English students had his mp3 player on his desk when I spotted this little gem. I'm assuming the factory knew what they were doing when they made this guy, but the combination of shameless ipod knockoff/bathroom humor put a smile on my face.

Snake in a Manhole

Almost tripped over this guy yesterday. Not really sure what's going on here, but in the dark it looked a lot like some poor boa constrictor was being crushed by a manhole cover.

Computer Poom

Maybe I'm the only one who thinks it's funny...The thing that really got me, too, was the sign was two-sided and the other side correctly said "Computer Room." I like to imagine that somewhere out there are a bunch of sign translators with really poor eyesight. They know Computer Poom is wrong; their eyes are just too bad to catch it.

Chicken on the Grass

I was walking to the subway after work when I spotted this guy. I did a double take..."Wait, is that chicken...or a chicken???" ('sup J.K.). It most definitely was. Some random chicken just taking a nap next to some randomly strung cables, some hazardous electrical box, and around the corner from a public toilet.

My new reaction when I see stuff like this? Loud and slow, and all together now..."Yessssssssss...."

Only in China II (A Real Estate Story)

Since Marilyn and I have to move out of the dorms on the 27th, we've been frantically looking for a place to live for the year. However, with the shadow of the Olympics loming overhead, finding a decent place to live has proved quite difficult. Thankfully, yesterday, with the help of a family friend, we might have found something, but first, the bad news.

On Sunday, Marilyn and I saw our first place. We met the realtor at the subway station and then walked over to meet some of his realtor friends at a highrise. When we arrived, the place was clearly still under construction, as workers were busily coming and going with planks, drywall, etc. We stepped into an elevator that was still lined with wood. The apartment was a small, supposedly brand new, studio for about $440usd. As we walked in, another realtor was lying asleep on the bed (most apartments in China come furnished). When one of the 4 realtors standing around kicked the sleeping realtor's foot, he groggily sat up and stared blearily out the window. We didn't want to be too picky, but the place was clearly put up in a hurry, as the floor wasn't done properly, and the bathroom seemed like a bit of an afterthought. Our real estate warned us this was the best he could find, but we left, deciding to hold out for better.

Needless to say, the process thus far had been a bit traumatic for us. So, when we had dinner that night with one of Marilyn's parent's friends and his family, they offered to help us look. After dinner, as the daughter (who we'll call Jiejie) and her husband were walking us back to the bus stop, we passed a row of real estate shops. I made the mistake of checking the listings in the window; a realtor was immediately by my side rapidly speaking to me in Chinese. Marilyn, Jiejie, and her husband stopped and came back to ask the realtor some questions. After some discussion, the realtor offered to take us to a place nearby. We arrived at a decent looking, albeit poorly lit, apartment complex. One of the realtor's coworkers dropped off the key on his bike and waited downstairs as we headed up. We step out of the elevator into almost pitch black darkness. Apparently, all the hall lights in apartment buildings are on a roughly 3 second motion/sound sensor, so you play this game of: dark, stomp/clap/dance, light, dark, stomp/clap/dance, light. Anyway, so we're stomping and waving our arms while the realtor puts the key in the door. Immediately, from inside the apartment, we hear someone banging on the door yelling, "Who's there??????" An older Chinese lady opens the door, grabs the key, and starts yelling at the realtor, who yells back. I have no idea what's going on (later I find out that the old lady says she's the owner and she never left her key with the real estate office), but Jiejie quickly herds us back into the elevator and we leave. As we're leaving, the realtor calls Jiejie's cell phone and says it's okay to come back, it was just a misunderstanding. However, when we get back, the lady's gone and no one will answer the door. The motion sensor's going on and off, the lights are flickering, and we're peering down a dark staircase, with no idea what just happened. As we leave, the realtor runs to her coworker on a bike and tells him, "Did you see an old lady come down the stairs??? Go get her! She took the key!"

We're still not really sure what happened, but we think that the old lady might have been a squatter or an evictee or something, pretending to be the owner so she could take the key back...

The whole experience was cinematic and surreal, like some kind of episode out of the Twilight Zone. I'll let Marilyn tell you about the place we did like, but for now, you get the crazy Only in China real estate story.

Only in China...(I)

So, we decided that there is so much amazing randomness in China, we must document it diligently for our loyal readers back home. That's you!

Thus begins an intermittent mini-series in our blog that will be titled "Only in China..." We will follow each title with things you can really only find in China. What kinds of things, you ask? Oh, you'll see.

We'll start with some easy ones. Here goes!

Only in China...

can you buy puppies in a box on the street.

Yours for only 200RMB (less than $30USD, which I might remind you is also just a starting point for bargaining). It's so tempting...



And only in China can you buy "baijiu" liquor (one of our friends here described it as vodka's gangster uncle) in a plastic bag. Looks kind of like an IV bag...


Yours for only 3.5 RMB (that's about, oh...5o cents USD).


How anyone would have the courage to drink this stuff, I don't know.


Exciting stuff, huh?