My Chinese visa is supposedly ready for pickup tomorrow. Ah, the constant finagling for valid visas. Our situation has always required a good bit of leg work since we don’t have employers sponsoring us in Shanghai. In the past, we eked by on tourist visas (although my Big Blue visa did grant me one year of travel freedom): John certainly left the country often enough on business to renew his paperwork in the States. This year though, we finally have the system down. Earlier this month, John obtained a multi-entry business visa through an agent in town; I, a newbie student, am set to receive my coveted multi-entry student visa manana.

The visa bureau moved this year from Puxi (west river) to Pudong (east river). As with the former location, the new one is also inconveniently NOT located near the subway station. Given the trek out to Pudong will likely take an hour plus, I think I’ll give the bureau an extra day to make sure my stuff is processed to completion. Yes, my slip says Jan 24 for pickup, but I’ve been burned far too many times. Better just wait one more day and save me a second trip. All’s good, because anyway John and I are taking Wu Ayi out to lunch tomorrow for Chinese New Year. A sort of thank you lunch for putting up with all our slop and grime. Poor woman. She works her butt off, and every visit requires major damage control. Around here, we’re always in crisis mode.

I was on the phone most of today booking travel again. John’s slated for another 4-week trip to the States. I actually found a kickass agent with great US-China fares (about $400 cheaper than Travelocity!). And this lady was with the program: prompt email, the Sabre Travel interface (which is awesome– allows me to download the itinerary into Outlook), credit card purchase, PLUS e-ticketing. Such a breeze, unlike my booking experience earlier this afternoon when I was on the phone calling a dozen local agents for quotes to Taiwan.

This damn political tension between the mainland and Taiwan is such a nuisance. The trip would be such a quickie two-hour direct flight, but no siree, instead it’s a frickin’ 5-6 hour pain. And thanks to crossing borders twice, both legs are essentially international fights– damn expensive and a pain for visas. I mean, come on. There’s plenty of bad blood between China and Japan. Do you see them implementing some asinine, roundabout route from Shanghai to Tokyo? Nope. A simple 2-3 hour direct flight. Just $250 USD. Tickets to Taiwan? About $500. And for what, so I can twiddle my thumbs for an hour at the airport in HK or Macau? So lame. Sigh. Oh well, what can you do? It’s the biggest holiday of the year, my parents are in Taiwan now, and I haven’t seen my grandfather in two years. Have to just bite the bullet and go. At least I’ll get to load up on my favorite Taiwanese treats: pearl milk tea, dou hua (豆花), and green mung bean slushies. Yummy!

I have to say, this New Year is not starting off well. Seriously, it’s been one thing after another, dealing with assholes left and right. Really makes me question my desires to help people through nonprofit work. Maybe John’s right: most humans are bad, not good. First, it was the AAF letdown. Then it was the roadside ingrates who scrammed and let me get chewed out by the cabbie/murderer. Then my friend added insult to injury (emotional) by siding with the said cabbie. Today, it’s Ebay again. Ebay, why do you make it so difficult for me to love you? Why do you keep sending me psychos? This morning, I received the following email message from Kindra: “I would appreciate it if you would remove the feed back that you left for me. THE DISPUTE PENDING COMMENT. I am an excellent ebayer and that just does not look good for a comment. You got paid and I got my item. Sounds like a good transaction to me.” I mentioned this beotch before. To refresh your memory, she won my bid at the end of October. The day after the auction closed, she had buyer’s remorse and asked to “mutually agree to cancel” the auction. First of all, who the hell has ever even heard of this procedure? Only someone who manipulates the system often enough to know the ins and outs. Being the gullible person that I am, I actually came very close to canceling the bid. Ok, maybe she just got confused and made a mistake. No big deal, right? Then, I checked her earlier feedback. Four other neg/neutrals where she either had buyer’s remorse (and didn’t pay even though the other party did NOT agree to cancel the sale) or they “mutually agreed to cancel.” Suspicious. Sketchy. So I rejected her request. Then, no reply from her for 8 days, so I filed a dispute with Ebay. Meanwhile, I left negative feedback saying that a dispute was pending and she had a history of not paying. All true.

She eventually paid, and then I received angry emails from her, claiming that my feedback was premature, that I should have waited for the transaction to complete. What, now she’s the feedback authority? Does she know what feedback is? It’s MY opinion and MY impression of the experience. Duh. Ugh, I swear. People like her are so demented. So now, two and a half months later, she emails me again. As you read, she’s adamant about being an “excellent ebayer.” I just can’t believe she wants me to withdraw my feedback. Who the hell even knew this was possible? I thought feedback was permanent. Nope, apparently you can also “mutually agree to withdraw” comments. Alright Ebay, enough with the “mutually agree” bullshit.

Kindra also left me neutral feedback alleging that I didn’t follow Ebay protocol. What the hell? I know, I have to maintain composure and develop a thicker skin, but AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH! Okay, I responded to her feedback and tried my best to stick to the facts. She had buyer’s remorse and paid only after I disputed. I also clarified my “dispute pending” comment (which thoroughly bugged her) with a follow-up: “Pd only after I disputed and wants me to remove neg feedbk?” Ok, so the second part is maybe a bit inflammatory, but seriously, she has the nerve to ask me to remove my comment??!! Did you know you only get 80 characters for feedback? It’s so damn limiting. Then again, I suppose it’s a necessary constraint; otherwise, as you can see from my blog, I’d write a book.

Several months ago, I wrote about getting a kickass position with Animals Asia Foundation to start up Dr. Dog and Professor Paws in Shanghai. I was so so excited about the opportunity. Finally, I had found something that seemed to match my passions perfectly. Well, I should have known it was too good to be true (spoken like a true cynic). The organization called me last week, and somewhere between November and January, their board of directors decided to can the Shanghai plans and instead focus efforts on Guangzhou, where dogs and cats are popular foods. Of course, it makes sense to implement programs in areas thriving with dog and cat markets. Still, the organization screwed me. I mean, seriously, thanks for the zero heads up. So basically, all of the sudden, I was informed the position was gone. Classy. I tell you… non-profits have great heart and purpose but geez, they certainly leave a lot to be desired in the business management and practices department.

ANYway, I guess I’m over the disappointment now. I’ve moved on. Mandarin classes next month will keep me fairly busy, and I’ll supplement my time with teaching and part-time/contract gigs. Oddly enough, I got a call the other day from my former PM at Big Blue. They’re looking for someone to do voice work (North American accent). Considering it’s just reading stuff aloud and the pay is 4 times what I earned working for them as a writer/editor/content developer, I agreed to put my name in the running. A few days later, I got news that the client picked my melodious voice for their web-based training modules. Awww yeah! Ok, I won’t have a celebration dinner or anything. It’s not like I’m doing voicework for Monsters, Inc. or anything. In fact, I got my butt up at the crack of dawn this morning, biked to the metro, then hopped on the company shuttle and rode all the way out to the free trade zone. Man, that place is like No Man’s Land. Scary. Out in the middle of no where with shuttle buses as the only link to the outside world. I got the script, and it was really exciting stuff like fire safety protocols and floor leader responsibilities. Thrilling, I know. Yet another example of the glamorous life I lead. 🙂

Ok, so really the biggest part of my trip was this: I got into a huge fight with the cabbie on the way back to Harbin airport. I know, seems a bit silly to divulge the details but frankly, this info is critical to understanding the situation (and ultimately siding with me). So at the beginning of the cab ride, we agreed to pay 100 RMB. Well fifteen minutes into the ride, the cabbie pulled over. On the shoulder of the expressway, there was another cab with two passengers. Our cabbie asked if we could squeeze more passengers into our vehicle. The cab was already quite small, so John was not keen on this. One in the front seat, ok but not two. Thinking that the other taxi broke down or something, I asked our driver what’s the situation? He said he’d find out. He leaves and on coming back, plops all their luggage in the trunk and two people squeeze in, not even acknowledging our presence. What the fuck, right? The driver turns around, and thanks us (meanwhile, the other passengers still say NOTHING, frickin’ mutes). I tell him I’m paying half fare. He laughs it off and drives. Fast forward thirty minutes, we arrive at the airport, the others grab their stuff and jet. No money changes hands between them and the cabbie. I hand the driver 70, instead of the initially stated 100. I tell him, I’m not paying for their part of the fare. We argue. He says we agreed to 100, and we agreed to the others coming on board. I tell him, I said one and he came back with two and just stuffed their shit in the trunk without even asking me. Back and forth. I throw the money in the trunk and leave.

Standing in line to check in, my face is red with anger, but I take a deep breath and calm myself down, thinking we’re out of there soon. Whadya know? The guy parked his cab and came in to find us. He starts yelling and screaming, accusing me of cheating him of his money. I yell and scream back. He hurls all kinds of insults and calls me the worst kind of Chinese foreigner, an embarrassment to all Chinese. I tell him he’s dishonest, and he’s targeting us because we’re foreigners. It was quite the scene. Everyone was watching intently but keeping out of it. He threatened to sue me. I dared him to sue me. Man, my blood was boiling, I tell you. And it’s not easy carrying on like this in another language. I will say though, that a phrase I learned recently on ChinesePod came in handy. When he kept going on and on demanding money, I said, “Have you no ears?” I’m not paying, man. Screw off! Going on fifteen minutes, we neared the front of the check-in line. Thank goodness a tour guide butted in and mediated. I parted with another 10, and at the urgings of the tour guide, psychopath finally left. Can you believe this dude? Paid 5 just to park his car to find us. When I got to the check-in desk, the officer suggested I was in the wrong, 70 being too low for a ride to the airport. Then I explained that we picked up two other people, who didn’t pay him crap. Oh, well then yeah, you shouldn’t have given him anything. That’s right buddy. I’m right. He’s wrong. Get the facts straight.

Oddly enough, my friend who the driver was going to pick up and take to the airport after us (she was on a later flight), STILL ended up using his services. I explained to her what happened, and she STILL gave him business. What the hell, man? She called me today and said he arrived all pissed off but she mediated the situation. How? By telling him that I’m a foreigner and we likely didn’t understand what he was saying. Come again? I know my Mandarin is far from high functionality, but I definitely grasped what was going on. But since she essentially sided with him, they had a nice little heart to heart. The closest apology he offered was regret in letting his temper shoot out of control. Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

And you know what else? Turns out, this guy is an ex-con! He was jailed for killing someone a few years back. Supposedly, he and his brother were eating at a street side shop. They got into a fight (imagine that!) with two other guys. He stabbed one guy to death. Then, the other guy stabbed his brother to death. Nice. Tit for tat at its best. Whatever though. In the end, my friend gave him an extra 20 even though he “didn’t want it.” That is totally fucked up, man. It’s one thing for her to use his services even after I tell her he’s trying to gyp me. It’s another thing to blame ME for the “misunderstanding.” But Jesus Christ, paying him extra money? That’s the last straw. It’s so OVER!

John and I barely survived our weekend trip to Harbin, the capital of Heilongjiang in Manchuria. Oh. My. God. Colder than my worst nightmare of expectations. Maybe I could have gone better prepared. I doubt it. As you can see in the pictures, I was already fat, blimpy, and practically immobile from my layers. Ok, boots might have helped.

So the first night, we went to the Ice and Snow Festival north of the Songhuajiang River. The event was well worth the trip, but because we were on the water and it was evening, the temperatures and wind gusts were brutal. Guess this was a good way to jump start our systems with a full-on shock. Let me apologize in advance for our pictures. They are no where near the greatness of Todd King’s. Allow me to offer several reasons. First, it took us awhile to figure out the right settings. Second, our hands had trouble holding steady in the freezing cold. Third, once we finally did decipher the optimal settings, we grew very reluctant to take our hands out of our gloves and pockets to fidget with the camera. Please forgive.

Day two, we got up bright and early for a Chinese tour of a lifetime. I have to say, once again LP China misled me. Damn you, Damian H*rper. Man, talk about blowing smoke out the ass… all this superlative-laden language: the biggest ski resort in Asia, the best equipped facility in China, blah, blah. Purportedly, Yabuli hosted the 1996 Asian Winter Games… We got sucked in, I tell you. John, me, and four others in our group endured three hours on a cacophonous Chinese tour bus to check this grand place out. In the end, what did we discover? Nothing all that superb. Just tons of snow, tempertures between -10 to -20 F, and decrepit, single-seater lifts to the summit of Yabuli’s tallest mountain. Big frickin’ deal. Key indicators for disappointment: various abandoned and neglected buildings, lodges, and ski lifts along the way up. The building windows were shot out even. Next to our lift, a steep slope (that may actually have been a nice trail during the Asian Games) was clearly not in use. Still, like sheep, we just hopped on and inched higher and higher into desolation.

When we reached the top, the peace and quiet offered somewhat of a welcome respite, but by then, my feet were losing feeling fast. I started thinking unhappy thoughts. I wondered how many people died atop this mountain of snow and cold. Would I be saved? The puny lift alone took 35-40 minutes each way! You know people do lose fingers and toes and noses to frostbite!! I guess it was nice having an 8-year old with us. He interrupted my morbid thoughts with more important (and harassing) questions about Uno, formerly my favorite card game.

Twenty minutes passed, and it was time to ride back down. At the base, we warmed our hands and feet in the coffee hut. Then, we were back on the bus for another three hours of coerced on-bus entertainment: a Chinese variety show played at the highest volume setting possible.

Day three, we wandered about Harbin. Temps were actually colder than the previous two days, so we rode around in taxis mostly. Saw St. Sophia’s Church. It was nice, but kind of out of place. A single piece of Russian architecture in the middle of an otherwise typical Chinese city. Inside, the church had obviously been converted into a tourist stop/center, so there were black and white historical pictures of Harbin mixed in with random religious paintings (including a version of the Last Supper), and all of it surrounding a city model on display.

Enrolling as a student here in Shanghai is, as you might guess, quite a process. That said, I set my expectations low from the start. Fortunately, I’ve been pleasantly surprised. In fact, the experience has been rather organized and maybe even less bureaucratic than in the States. Say it isn’t so!

Perhaps the most tedious part of becoming an official student is converting my tourist visa into a student visa. Two weeks ago, I underwent the required physical exam at the government clinic for foreigners. I went through the experience last October in 2004, so I remembered the special shuffle. The process actually brings to mind an assembly line: whole chicken in, packaged chicken parts out. Not sure why I think of a chicken processing plant. I just do.

In one hour, I passed through a series of maybe seven different rooms (not sequentially ordered, unfortunately), each housing an “expert” to conduct the test, be it the weigh-in, blood draw, blood pressure check, organs exam, vision test, ultrasound scan (yes, employers here get to know whether you’re pregnant), EKG, or chest x-ray. Talk about zero physician-patient interaction, this was a no games in-and-out operation: hello, goodbye, next. Three minutes tops.

So I received my health report today. Drumroll… The doctor has deemed me to “Be in basically normal health status.” What’s the difference between “basically normal” and just plain “normal”? I don’t think I’ll ever know.

My Mandarin classes start in a month. In preparation, I’m pushing myself to read and write more Chinese on the computer. I’m finding quite a few applications for this. You see, since I’m the ultimate cheapie, I can spend hours online “researching” the best deals. Recently, I was surfing some local travel sites (the Chinese equivalents of Travelocity and Expedia) scoping out the latest specials. Both Ctrip and Elong offer Chinese and English versions, but I’m always paranoid the prices will vary, so I actually check all the language formats. Fortunately, I didn’t find any price discrepancies, but to my irritation, I discovered that the same exact fights we booked a month ago for our trip this weekend to Harbin (where it’s currently -10 F) were now half price. When I first got the tickets, the agent told me the flight was booked, and the limited remaining seats were full fare. Now, three weeks later, there was suddenly greater availability? What the hell? Sure, maybe some people canceled their trip due to the benzene spill in October (the city’s water supply was shut off for three days)… Whatever. All I know is, I didn’t get the good deal. I almost resigned myself to getting gyped but then I figured, why not try for a refund of the price difference. After all, the Shanghainese are super price conscious; surely, such a request isn’t beyond what they would do. So I called Ctrip, and can you believe, I got to return the tickets? I was shocked. Usually in China, you can’t return crap and in this case, I fully expected to get screwed. I guess it was my lucky day. Mind you, the fix wasn’t exactly logical: I had to pay a 5% return fee and turn in the physical tickets to Ctrip. Then, I was re-issued tickets for the same exact flight. Totally roundabout, but hey, saved us about $200 USD!

This evening, I got to use my written Chinese on an all-Chinese site. I went to Taobao, a domestic site similar to Ebay, searching for Cetaphil cleanser. I first encountered Taobao a few months ago when I went there looking to replace my lost cell phone. Back then, my Chinese literacy was completely useless, so I called on the help of a multilingual friend to contact the seller. This time, I hunted down a Cetaphil seller in Shanghai and just started MSNing him. Sure, he probably would have preferred that I just do the transaction using the Taobao shopping cart, but given my limited literacy, I still needed to ask questions using words I knew, using my limited vocabulary set. I was ridiculously slow in typing my responses, but hey, one hour later, the transaction was done. My first online purchase done completely in Chinese. I’m sure the seller thought I was mentally challenged, because I likely asked questions whose answers were already listed on the posting. Oh well. I’m having a good time going in cognito. Ok, I guess I should still give credit where it’s due: thank goodness for Adsotrans, a superhandy site that gives me new special powers in Chinese-English translation.

You’d think for heavy eaters like John and me, the minimalist diet in Tokyo would have driven us to the opposite extreme. Actually, we’d originally planned on binging our hearts out on returning to Shanghai. Strangely enough though, one of us (and I honestly can’t remember whether it was John or I) had the bright idea to actually prolong (or rather exacerbate) the “eating in moderation” theme by undergoing a two-day brown rice/veggie/fruit-only diet. With all the Stateside buzz about detox and colonics, I was starting to believe: surely worms, parasites, and other creepy crawlers were thriving in my gunked-up intestines. They had to be eradicated. Through the grapevine, I’d heard of a few people getting hooked on colonics. They insisted the results were unfathomable, magical, life-altering. I just couldn’t get beyond the thought of manually flushing out that part of the system, so a “cleansing diet” seemed like the next best thing. Two days, how bad could it be? A good test of will, I suppose.

Well, I have to say: the cleansing diet sucked. Big time. It was horrible. I mean, sure, first meal or two, no big deal. Brown rice, steamed veggies. They kinda offered that vegetarian/yoga journal appeal. Whatever. Jesus Mary and Joseph, by day 2 morning, John and I were so frickin’ hungry. By day 2 evening, both of us felt like complete ass: totally weak and nauseous. I know I’m out of shape but damn, I had no idea such a brief change in diet would screw me like that: seriously, I was a moaning groaning cripple, writhing in pain on the futon. And man, I had the biggest migraine ever, smack dab in the middle of my forehead. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I was trying to listen to a podcast, and nothing was registering. I was a total basketcase. And John was the same way. Finally, at like 10pm, he demanded an end to the madness. He headed straight to the kitchen where he cooked himself up a big, juicy, cheesy omelet. He then returned to the office (where I was still trying to hold out) and scarfed that thing down in record time. Within seconds, he was prancing around the room all happy go lucky, bragging about how the omelet made him feel instantly better. How could I resist? I figured, two days was the original goal anyway. I was pretty much there. Why torture myself further? What for?

Last month, I met someone who said he fasted (liquid only) twice a year for one week each time. Interested, I asked him why. He got all defensive and went into this diatribe about how fasting wasn’t just about physical detox; it was about spiritual renewal and rejunvenation. Ok, whatever. Let me tell you. I didn’t feel a single ounce of revitalization. I felt like I’d spent the day on a Cast Away raft. I was done, man. 10:21 pm. Got myself a chocolate bar and indulged. I felt instantly better.