Happy New Year

Happy Chinese New Year everyone. You would not believe how loud it got last night with all of the fireworks. Apparently, the worst of it is actually on Thursday of this week. Traditional Chinese belief is that the more loud fireworks you set off, the more prosperous your year will be and the better the chance is that you will catch the attention of the money guy (who comes on Thursday of this week).

I spent last night with my friend Simon and his family who are from Hong Kong. We set off fireworks in their apartment complex along with every other family living in the complex. While eating dinner giant fireworks you could never get your hands on in the States exploded two feet from the window. Simon’s brother was telling a story about a friend whose apartment windows exploded from too-close fireworks. Basically I was terrified all night. I’ve always loved fireworks but watching a grandpa smoking a cigarette while reading something on the bottom of a 3x3 foot cube of gussied up gunpowder in an apartment lobby is just too much for me. I did muster up the courage to set off one extremely loud firework in order to ensure I will have a prosperous new year. Seriously it sounded like a nuclear explosion. Not that I’ve ever heard one of those. I was shaky for about an hour afterwards. On the walk home I would carefully peek around every corner to make sure a fireball wasn’t headed in my direction.

So I’m living in Shanghai and I am absolutely blissful. Our apartment is fantastic. Right now I am listening to my ipod through the great sound system on our big comfy couch on wireless internet. We have a dining table that seats six and has a candelabra in the center. And all of this was included. Well except for the internet. We’ve already had our first dinner party. I think I’ll make it a weekly thing because for all of my slobitude I love being a hostess. Steph and I both were raised by mothers who know how to throw a great party.

Everything has somewhat settled down, but much of these first two weeks here were full of upheaval. Visa drama consumed me. I was averaging about three hours of sleep a night due to stress while going to interviews and working on visa stuff all day long. Then the company that ended up getting me my visa wanted me to start work immediately at a winter camp which I worked at for 11 days straight. The camp was for kids aged 3-5. Those Chinese babies were adorable, energy-sucking little things.

I may not stay with this school, which might introduce another set of visa complications. I have another job offer where I wouldn’t have to work weekends as I would with the first job. Because I only had ten days to get everything worked out before my visa’s expiration date, compounded by the fact that during Chinese New Year all of China shuts down for a week and the week before the shut down, the processes of previously inefficient government bureaucracies slow to a crawl—sort of forced me into a job that could get a visa pushed through quickly. Bureaucracy, you suck.

So I hate this new job. The only native English speakers currently employed by the company are me and Jim. Jim is a thirty nine year old man who moved here three weeks ago with his Shanghainese wife. Jim gives me the heebie-jeebies. Bad vibes. He acts like a children’s entertainer on the verge of a breakdown. He has several facial tics. When he talks to me his eyes contact is unwavering (except for the frequent and forceful blinking—one of the tics).

I do happen to love my Chinese teacher coworkers. One in particular, Maple, and I get along really well. I think it’s because we both have what she calls “flower hearts.” We can’t make up our minds and we want to try everything. She is married to a chef at one of the nice hotels in town who drops her off at work on his motorcycle at 9 am everyday and then makes the trek back to pick her up at nine pm--or whatever time my bosses allow her to go home to her nineteen month old daughter. My bosses work my Chinese coworkers to the bone, but I breeze out of there at 4, my white face their biggest asset.

The school is brand-new and there are a lot of kinks to be worked out. The start up money was provided by the parent company, a publishing agency whose books and dvds are sold as part of the course. The winter camp I was working at was a promotional tactic to get the word out about the school. Personally, I don’t see the school succeeding.

Life in Shanghai is really grand. I feel like there are countless possibilities, opportunities, things for me to try, and people for me to meet here. Every night I get to go home to a place that feels like home even though I’ve only lived in it for a week and a half. And I get to live with Stephanie who makes me laugh every day. We are planning our first house party (different from dinner party) on February 7th, the day before her birthday. I told the Chinese teachers at the school and they were all so excited to be invited, it made me feel good. I have learned so much about Chinese people in the few intense days working with them.

I love that in Shanghai it is easy to find Chinese people fluent in English. I have also made friends with the newspaper vendor across the street where I can buy the English language Chinese newspaper, the China Daily. It’s easy to find restaurants with English language menus. I am going to sign up for a Chinese class once I get my working schedule figured out.

I wish everyone a prosperous new year. This week I’m going to try to avoid getting my face blown off which I am seriously paranoid about. Especially because if it happened, I doubt there would be anyone working at the hospital to stitch me up.

Rachel