Am I a cheap bastard?

Last night a young, sweet, Chinese girl came over to our place to give me a trial private Mandarin lesson. Yeah, for those of you who do not know; I am (desperately) trying to speed up my process of learning Chinese. After 7 months of university language studies, I feel I sill make too many primal mistakes (like saying “I am a size 25” instead of “I am 25 years old” and telling the taxi driver “it doesn’t matter!!” when he asks me “should I take left or right at the crossing?” Yup. Quite inconvenient, I know!) and now I want to get better, fast!

With HSC level 6 as my current, far-fetched dream (yeah right) I was deeply motivated for yesterday’s lesson, which unfortunately didn’t work out quite the way I thought it would.

I had already specified how much I was willing to pay (50 kuai/hour), so imagine my surprise when the tutor (who had no previous teaching experience. I suppose I shouldn’t even call her a tutor) suddenly expressed her wish for me to pay her 150 kuai/hour.

“Ehum, but… well… I sort of already said I would pay 50!” I tried.

Useless.

I had to quickly shove her to my door so that her time wouldn’t add up to an outrageous quota.
But in the end I still paid her 50 kuai. Don’t call me ruthless! Even my ‘Chinese-tutor-wanted’-add said that price! I have no idea where she got 150 from?

Anyways. So now I’m at the lookout again. I know that 50 kuai/hour isn’t considered to be a too low rate. I’ve already asked around and all my Chinese friends believe it is a decent time pay, especially for someone who doesn’t have any previous teaching experience. A friend of mine is paying her tutor 30 kuai/hour, and that’s also considered to be a totally okay price.

But then again. Why do I get this feeling that when the tutor sees my blonde hair, 50 kuai suddenly becomes ‘waaaaaaaaay toooooo loooooooooow’ and I turn into this stingy bastard in front of her yes? Should Westeners have to pay more because they are Westeners? Like, really?

Fat bums and big noses

In China, the term ’honesty’ has a whole different meaning than back home.

In China, you don’t sugar coat your comments. You don’t try and hide the truth. In China, you say as you think and if you happen to hurt the other person, well, then that’s just the truth that hurts, rather than your words.

Therefore, I cannot utter any personal defend to the following thing that happened to a friend of mine.

She was in a small, Chinese clothing shop when she decided to try on a dress. The mirror was outside the fitting room, so when she went out to have a look, she overheard the Chinese shop assistants offering their point of view:

-Look at that girl. Incredible how big asses those westerners have!
-I know! Big asses, and big hips. Looks stupid.
-Yeah, hehe!

Now all this was said in Chinese so what can you do? Well, if it would have been me I probably would have yelled something nasty back (in Chinese) but my friend was quite shell-shocked and simply left the shop without saying a word (and no, she didn’t buy the dress).

Some weeks later, I was in another clothing shop and just about to pay for a dress when the two smiling shop assistants behind the counter started talking to each other in Chinese:

Girl 1: -Do you think she’s beautiful?
Girl 2: -Beautiful?
Girl 1: -Yeah, the Western girl.
Girl 2: -I don’t know, her nose is quite big…

Instantly, the memory of my humiliated friend’s sob story sprung to my mind. No way I was going to have this happen to me too?!

Me (in Chinese): -Why are you asking her if she thinks I am beautiful, how would you feel if I talked about you like that?!

Ahhhhh… I wish you would have seen the faces of Girl 1 & Girl 2. Priceless!!!

Well, they didn’t say anything else while I was standing there, but when I walked away I heard them burst into a hysterical laughter. Well, I suppose we all need our dose of daily fun?

And well, I guess compared to their tiny-non-existent-hips-and-bums and their pert little noses, us Westerners do look rather big. But that’s not something we need to be told, is it??

Yup, I guess my nose is the bigger kind.

There won't be any "language exchange" lunch today

Turns out I was right about Mr Chinese guy. Around 9pm last night, I received the following text message (all in Chinese characters, so it took me quite a while to read it…)

“Dear Jonna, I was very happy to meet you today at Starbucks. You are beautiful and lovely. Are you living here alone? I am here alone. I work at a golf club. I can’t wait to meet you tomorrow.”

Okeeeeeeeeey, and that was the end of that ‘language exchange’. I replied everything I could think of to make it obvious that this was not going to happen (in Chi characters, quite proud of myself!) and that was it. Over and out!

Why does this always happen to me?!

There I was, innocently studying characters at a Starbucks café when a mid-aged Chinese man approached me and asked if I was an English teacher.
‘No!’ I said and pointed on my endless notes of characters.
‘Oh, because I want to learn English!’
And then, with both of us not being very good at communicating at the other ones language (his English was as poor as my Chinese… actually, I should give myself some credit, maybe it was even poorer than mine) we ended up in some sort of linguistic haze where he expressed his wish to become my 朋友‘peng you’= friend.

Yes, my friend.

But friends don’t call you 15 min after you’ve said goodbye and ask if they can take you out for dinner.

Yes, I am very naïve and stupid who gave him my number but my phone was sort of at the table and he wanted me to put his number in, and call him, so that he could get mine. And yes, of course I could have said no, or even better, I could have refused, but once again… It’s not that nice to make a Chinese man ‘lose face’ at a public place, so I thought I’d let him down gently. When he suggested dinner (during our phone call) I replied ‘how about lunch at Starbucks’. I’m thinking that if Starbucks could get me into this sticky situation, then Starbucks better take me out of it too!!

Now, if he really, truly wants us to be ‘friends’ and friends only, I will have to take all this back. But if he thinks ‘friends’ or ‘study buddies’ means wining and dining, and not focussing on language exchange, I guess I’ll have to do some painful explaining to him. Oh lord. Why does this always happens to me?

But anyways, I am meeting him tomo already... To be continued!!

Where to party in Shanghai: (bomb) Shelter nightclub

PIcture from smartshanghai.com

I thought I seen it all when it comes to nightclubs in Shanghai. But that was before I went to the Shelter, Shanghais new, unpretentious, highly popular nightclub.

The Shelter is what it is. A bomb shelter that has been transformed into a nightclub. The drinks are a bit cheaper than at other places. The bar staff are friendly. The music is unpredictable (last Sat they had reggae, which isn’t the most usual choice of tunes amongst the highly commercial and techno-loving Shanghai clubs). And the crowd is… mixed! Imagine everything from young students to Shanghai seniors. Not that many locals though, bit I think that will change.

After my first visit to this Shelter I must say I’m quite satisfied with the experience. Sure, the club got a bit smoky towards the end of the evening, and I wouldn’t recommend the place for someone who is claustrophobic. But it’s definitely a nice, fresh change in Shanghai’s club scene, and definitely a place that feels far away from glitz and glamour at the Bund. (Leave your heels at home!)

Just don’t ask me where the fire escape is.

The Chinese and their English names

Britney has obviously made an impression on young, Chinese girls.

The other day I went to the hairdresser, and while I was getting my hair washed I overheard one of the hairdressers calling someone else:

-Jonna, Jonna, can you come over here??

I felt kind of strange, seeing that my head was literally in a sink. But she definitely said my name, meaning… I should go??

The girl who washed my hair, Tina, had to gently push me back down when I tried to emerge the sink. Seeing that I am one of the few “Jonnas” that I know in China (and, in the rest of the world too?!) Tina knew my name, and told me that they weren’t actually calling for me, but for a Chinese hairdresser who’s English name just also happens to be… JONNA.

I couldn’t help feeling a tab bit flattered when I asked how she got the name and Tina replied that she didn’t know, however, that I am their only Jonna-customer, so maybe she was inspired…

When the Chinese are starting to take MY name you know things are going well for China!!


But speaking of name. There are a few odd ones. During my time in China I have met:

1 Cotton
1 Panda
40 Britneys
2 Chocolate
1 Rainbow
1 Spring
and
1 Rama

I’ve also given out an English name to a horseback riding instructor. We were chatting, and when he told me he didn’t have any English name, I felt obliged to call him Luke. He seemed happy about it, until I told him ‘Luke’ is the name of a famous Western cartoon. I am not sure if he kept the name.


But worse of the worse, is one Chinese girl we came across at a cafeteria. She was serving us tea and muffins when I looked at her name badge only to find her name was… Swallow.

Yes, Swallow. SWALLOW?! My God! How about consulting with a native speaker before you get yourself an English name?

However, Swallow is also a kind of bird. Let’s hope that’s the one she was opting for!

Dirty thoughts, go away...

The AYI business

One of the first thing people told us when we came to China was that we should get ourselves an AYI. An AYI is a cleaning lady/nanny/care taker/house keeper/chef/grocery shopper that most expats get, and then become totally dependant on.

She will clean, cook, shop, babysit and wash (both laundry and dishes), depending on how much you pay her. But quite frankly, you don’t have to pay her that much.

At first, I was completely reluctant to the thought of having someone else touching my dirty underwear and washing my coffee cups. But when we rented our first flat in Shanghai, and our landlord pointed out that the wooden floor needed to be cleaned in a very special way, using floor wax and some other things, and then went on by SUGGESTING us to hire an AYI that previous tenants had been using and who knew the procedure, the thought of getting some cleaning help became quite appealing. Especially when he told us that she charged 10 kuai (less than 1 euro!) per hour, and that she would come to our place once a week to clean for 2 hours. For only 8 euros/month I could escape the floor waxing. It was a deal.

However, I’ve never had any cleaning help before, and it felt quite strange to be 24 and have an older woman doing your dishes. I was a student, for Christ’s sake?! And since when can students afford a house keeper?

(Since they came to study in China, apparently).

The modest salary, however, soon became an issue for me. There she was, all sweet, smiley and helpful, folding my jumpers and scrubbing our toilet, every Sunday for 2 hours, only to go home with 20 kuai in her pocket. It simply didn’t feel right. Tortured by a bad conscious, we felt obliged to compensate her in another way.

We started collecting freebees, buying chocolate, even cooking meals and pass it over to her. One sports bag here, a snickers bar there, some tofu and veggies to go… Our AYI soon had to arrive with a spare bag so that she could bring all of our bad- conscious gifts with her home. During the special Chinese holidays we gave her a juicy bonus, and at least twice a month she’d walk home with double salary. Some weeks we even did the dishes and laundry because she came because we felt so sorry for her.

When we six months later moved out, I felt both sadness and relief when saying goodbye to her. She also seemed quite emotionally moved, but when we gave her an extra 100 kuais for all her good work, she walked off with a content smile on her face.

The first thing we did when moving into our new flat was to buy a vacuum cleaner, a mop, and some other cleaning devices. We sad no to all recommendations of AYIs, and spent the following year living in dust and arguing about who should do the dishes. Just like a normal couple in their early twenties.

Now we’ve moved again, and the new flat came with an AYI. Even though this AYI is way better paid than our previous one (this one gets 400 kuais/ month), we still cannot help sometimes leaving her a box of chocolate or some extra money on the dinner table.

And you know what, it feels quite good.