Autumn Fatigue
In western society, our calendar (Gregorian) is based on the movement of the planet around the sun. It is specifically designed so that the time from one fixed point, such as a solstice or equinox, to the next is called a tropical year. Our seasons are then tied to these opposing solstice (winter and summer) and equinox (spring and autumn).
Living in China, I have been intrigued by the fact that the change in season - now Summer to Autumn - is declared by the government. It's not based on the relationship of the sun to our planet, or even under the Chinese Lunar calendar, the relationship of the moon to our planet. Rather the change in season is based upon having a specific number of days in below (or above) a certain temperature. Seems really quite practical, especially when policy is tied to the season - that is, when it's ok to turn on and off heaters and air-conditioners.
The declaration of a season also brings with it new Mandarin vocabulary, compliments of the Shanghai Daily. On Monday, 16 October 2006, we were treated to 秋乏 (qiufa). Meaning Autumn Fatigue. According to the paper, "It refers to the phenomenon that many people feel fatigued though not ill at the beginning of the autumn season. Some recent traffic accidents were attributed to this phenomenon."
It does make you wonder whether this is a legitimate defense . I'm sorry, Your Honor. I know the accident was bad but I should be forgiven. You see, it was unavoidable. It was a case of "Autumn Fatigue".
If you are in the Northern Hemisphere, I hope you find your Autumn to be energizing!
For a bit more on Autumn, see www.readsolutionsgroup.com/coachblog.html.
For more on calendars, enjoy the website http://www.webexhibit.org/calendars/index.html.
Shanghai Longtang
While Shanghai seems to be filled with buildings coming down and high-rises going up, there 
remain pockets of the traditional Shanghainese housing. Recall that while China is filled with ancient history, Shanghai is a relatively recent city; mainly grown around the trading empires of the British, French, etc starting in the mid-1800’s. Traditional housing here is not really all that old – much of it dating from the early 1900’s. The “longtangs” are built in a western fashion around a Chinese courtyard. Originally built as single-family dwellings (generally in a townhouse structure), during the Cultural Revolution, the spaces were cut up and each family got a room with common spaces for kitchens and baths. Some families were able to recover their homes after the revolution, but most continue to be occupied by 8 to 20 families (frequently just the older people now).
We
went into one magnificent villa (formerly owned by a comrade of Chiang Kai-Shek) where the rooms went to judges. The home of a widow of one of the judges was a third of the original ballroom space. Outside on the landing, there was oil cook stove after oil cook stove lined up,
each in its space for each of the TEN families on the 2nd floor of this house. Attached is a picture of one corner of the landing. Note that all of the utensils are piled up as there is no where else to put them (remember that everyone lives in just one room per family), With Shanghai cooking is high in oil content, the walls, 
ceiling, and individual gas meters are coated in oil.
While the space is held in common, utilities are precious. Not only does each family have gas meter, each has their own electrical panel – enough to send chills up the spine of a safety specialist. You can see that everyone needs to light their own way and life becomes complex.
Some of these neighborhoods are experiencing renovations – new kitchens, baths, electrical supplies. Some of being “gentrified”. Most are in the waiting pattern for negotiations over the land and resettlement of the remaining occupants to outlying communities. In the meantime at a rent of 50 RMB/month (less than $7) for a mid-town home, no one is relinquishing their residency rights.
Did you see the bathroom?!?
October 2005
“Did you see the bathroom?” was the cry at the last hotel on our trip to Guizhou province. Now this might have been because it was a fancy Balinese bathroom, but, as you may have guessed, the reaction was for the opposite reason. We were staying at a Chinese standard 3 star hotel – it did, after all, have TV, air-con, hot water (though we never did test that), a restaurant and “clean” rooms. Located in a Zhuang village, accessible only by foot and surrounded by 700 year old rice terraces, we should have been thankful for running water. Nonetheless Douglas was unimpressed by the bathroom equal to shower stall (after all it’s easier to hose down that way) and squat toilet. Not to mention that the showerhead was missing, so it was really just a hose hanging from the wall. I have to say though, that I was quite impressed by the portable toilet seat that was in the bathroom (see picture). We all did have a ponder of the ramification of various substances 
falling from a height of the toilet seat into the toilet, and well, … enough said. It was only one night, an interesting location (see rice terrace picture) and Tim and I have definitely seen worse!
Our first venture around China was an experiment in travel planning and testing the conventional wisdom about travel during one of China’s “golden weeks”. Quick aside, to promote travel domestically and to allow people the opportunity to return to their home province, national holidays are scheduled into 3 “golden weeks”. Generally there are 3 official holidays and the remaining 2 days of the week are then also taken off by office/manufacturing businesses, with the following Saturday and Sunday worked. With (theoretically) 1.35 billion people off work, there can be a lot of crowding on busses, trains, and tourist spots. The good news is that we really only encountered the effects of the heightened travel with one traffic jam. Myth busted? Or were we just lucky??
The key learning from this tour was never, never, never cede control of the food arrangements and food budget to the tour company. The first arranged lunch was a buffet, designed for western tour groups at a hotel. Location was great. Ambience was minimal. The food, in compromising between Chinese and western, got neither even close to correct. The dinner that night was abysmal – held in a large hotel (3 Chinese stars) ballroom/restaurant, chicken with bones, horrible lukewarm soup, poor meat, low quality rice and to add insult to injury, included green tea only, no water, and we had to pay for beer and soda. Knowing that Chinese food is generally quite cheap, local beer (apart from Tsing Tao) is cheaper than bottled water, and we’re paying a lot in land costs, something wasn’t right. By the time we got to the next dinner, it was clear that reaching some accommodation with us was our tour guide’s instruction. If we ultimately complained to the Shanghai travel agent, they wouldn’t pay the local travel agent and our tour guide would not get paid. So, we picked the restaurant and the menu, and in the process learned that in the “country” towns, our dinner budget was a whopping 100 RMB for the 3 of us – that about US$12. Since we were paying daily land costs of about $200, and the hotel rooms averaged $60 (with breakfast), we’re still interested in knowing who was getting how much out of this, as it wasn’t the tour guide or driver! We’re guessing that not only was the tour company in Shanghai taking their cut, but in translating the tour spec to the local guide, the local tour company was shaving some more off the top. Alas, we’ll never know as we did ultimately find a balance between keeping us happy and staying close to budget, and took away a lesson for the future.
Think of the classic Chinese landscape scroll painting filled with limestone karsts (Merriam-Webster definition: an irregular limestone region with sinks, underground streams, and caverns). That is the area we visited that ranges between Guilin and Yangshuo. In Guilin, we went to a show on the origins of the area that was a combination of dance and acrobatics. It was very well done, but included none of the safety harnesses we’ve become accustomed to. As people swirled about the stage holding on by one hand, Tim and I couldn’t help but cringe. And as an acrobat balanced higher and higher and higher on a stack of chairs, all I could see was them (and him) coming crashing straight down at me. So great show, but I wasn’t quite relaxed sitting near the front of the theatre.
During a boat cruise of the lakes in Guilin, we were given a demonstration of cormorant fishing. Bamboo bent to shape and tied together makes the raft used by the fishermen. As in other parts of the world, the cormorant throat is constricted, here with rope, so they can’t swallow the fish. I’m not sure I’m fond of the idea of eating a rather large fish that has been regurgitated out of the bird’s throat, but then we’ll likely never know which fish were caught that way!
The Li River from Guilin to Yangshuo was packed with tourist boats winding their way down the shallow river way between limestone formations. Water buffalo, small farms, people doing laundry, fishing, all constituted the life along the river. The riverbank festooned with Phoenix tail bamboo – a bamboo that grows in circle, reaching 25 feet or more in height and spreading like a tail. The 4 hour boat ride included lunch – another bad meal, but that’s to be expected on those boats. Didn’t want to look in the kitchen when it was being prepared on-board, and didn’t want to experience the bathrooms by the time the trip was over.
Yangshuo, described by Lonely Planet as “that legendary backpacker hang-out”, seems to have been found by travelers about 10 years ago and settled by a number of them. The main drag is now known as "West Street" lined with cafes, bars, backpacker inns and shops. Took Tim and I back to our days of traveling, though now you can get a (sometimes) decent cappuccino along with your banana pancake! Douglas was thrilled to be able to have one dinner that wasn’t Chinese food.
While the western tourists headed to “West Street” for dinner, the locals and visiting Chinese went to where the real action was. Outside of our hotel, nightfall finds the parking lot turned into a whole slew of outdoor restaurants. A gas cylinder and wok, a table to display the food choices (we particularly liked the skinned rabbits and dangling chicken legs), and folding tables and chairs, and you have a restaurant. The first night we walked back through the area, now wet and covered in who knows what, tripping over a dead rat, and trying not to look too closely at the food choices. On the second night, Douglas had had enough – let’s get out of here, so we left Tim to document with photos.
The thing to do in Yangshuo is rent a bike and ride out to the Yulong River, possibly stopping at various caves, parks and tourist spots. We bypassed all of those and went up a dirt road along the river (still sharing the road with cars and busses, but now inhaling the dust along with the fumes) to find a wharf for the bamboo rafting. For an inordinately high price (this being a tourist spot), we hired 2 rafts, loaded the bikes on, and were poled down the river for about an hour. As you can see from the pictures, this was a popular activity, but enjoyable even with all of the crowds.
Yangshuo hosts the show with the world’s “largest stage”; that is, they do a show on the Li River south of town. A truly phenomenal number of fishermen, minorities from villages over 3 hours away, and others perform. The use of fire, lighting, and bamboo rafts was truly awesome, particularly with the backdrop of the limestone hills. Unfortunately, no pictures to share of this.
Finally, we ended our trip in Longji, the Dragon’s Backbone Rice Terraces. These terraces were built up over 600 to 800 years and reach up a string of 800 m peaks. Accommodations raised the cry from Douglas noted above, but 
were well worth the visit. The only way into the village is by foot, so we had the option of hiring local ladies to carry our bags up - $1.20 per lady – carried in the baskets on their backs. They made sure to be back at 6 AM the next morning to carry the bags back down the hill.
Shipment arrives in Shanghai
August, 2005
Our shipment was finally delivered with emails flying back and forth earlier that week about it. The good news is that everything arrived with breakage only on Tim’s bike. The process, however, left something to be desired. Victor, the boss of the job (only because he has some English skills), arrived by taxi around 10:45; we were expecting the delivery at 11. He comes in and proceeds to make himself at home, even to the extent of needing to use our phone as his battery was dead. Time passes, Victor has himself sprawled out on one of our living room chairs, and I’m captive since I’m not leaving him alone in the place – he’d already read papers sitting on the counter. Tim occasionally wandered down from his office, only to be greeted with daggers from me. He reckoned it was more likely we’d see the stuff if Victor was a “captive audience”, then sent off to wait in the clubhouse. Possibly! At noon, Victor finally figures out that the truck is still about an hour away, and he should go off for lunch. Plops himself back down after lunch with the truck finally arriving at 1:30. Tim takes one look at the van delivering our stuff and has me get the camera. Bike wheel with no wrapping, bike hanging off the truck, most of the boxes collapsed from mishandling and not being kept in an air-conditioned place. By this stage, with Tim taking pictures, I’ve got the inventory out and I’m making sure NOTHING comes into the house without being checked off. Victor continued to do nothing but demonstrate his limited English skills and otherwise duplicate work and get in the way. He will NOT be allowed in the house on the next move. Despite the look of the boxes, only Tim’s bike suffered damage, so all in all, not a bad move.
Ayi Anguish
21 September 2005
As I wait for my ayi of 2½ days to leave … and never return … I’m left with the dreadful question – “now what”! After finally giving up on finding someone by word of mouth, I had the relo company source a maid. Interviewed two. Picked the one with a good reference (references being unusual) from her former madam, an Indian, who could cook Indian cook, and seemed pleasant. Day 1, hesitant with me but pleasant. Used the office to translate a couple of times. Learned how to use the washer and dryer and cooked a decent Indian meal. And left a mop with a rag draped over it in my little garden area.
Day 2, we go grocery shopping – an opportunity for her to buy what she needs to cook with. She didn’t pick out anything, and I’m wondering why I’m doing all of the meal planning. Wet rag from the mop draped now over Douglas’s electric motorcycle (already rusting enough, it didn’t need help). Dishes washed without dish soap. Dress shirt ironed without benefit of water, starch or sizing and thus ironed but not wearable. And the crowning glory. I went up to get ready for bed. She had changed the sheets, correctly. The bed is 200cm x 200cm; the sheets 230cm x 260cm – long enough to tuck under the bed on three sides (there being no fitted sheets for a king sized bed in Shanghai). How was the bed made? BOTH the top and bottom sheets tucked in at the head and foot of the bed, dangling on the sides. Sherry’s moment of meltdown as I rip the sheets of the bed and remake it!
Day 3, if I’d had any hesitation left in morning about firing her, the sight of the leftover curry sauce from the night before (with bits of meat still in it) left on the stove aging for her lunch was enough to turn my stomache and confirm the unscaleable gap; particularly with no common language. Had the relo company talk to her on the phone to terminate the relationship – and now she’s gone.
So back to what next. I’m told it’s not unusual to go through multiple maids until a suitable one is found. But, ick!! These people are in your house going through your stuff while you decide whether it works or not. And being totally spoiled by our housekeeper in Singapore doing everything – no training, only a few course adjustments needed, and everything in the acceptable range (except all her personal problems) - I’m not fond of the idea of having someone here full-time who still doesn’t do the meal planning and grocery shopping and needs to be trained on how to clean and make beds!! And it’s hard to see how this could be full-time job anyway. I’ll just chew on this for a bit, and go back to doing the laundry and getting cleaning from the housekeeping staff of the compound.
October 2006: Posting this a year later, I have learned that my expectations were the majority of the problem. There are some great maids in Shanghai, but like every other place, it's best to find help through contacts and to have an understanding of the local market.
