Train crash 70km from Jinan

There was a terrible train crash nearby Jinan early this morning. Seems that 70 are dead and about 410 injured. Here is a link, with pictures.

Chinglish

The benefit of having a deformity.
Who'd want to?

Please go somewhere else to die ==>

<== I think it shoud say "pear".

To my Chinese readers: please do not take offence. Chinglish celebrates just how difficult Chinese is to translate to English. Three images from http://www.engrish.com/

How many mobile phone subscribers in China?

574 million

The reward is a banquet if you'll just climb this gorge

The university twice a year shows their gratitude to the foreign teachers, by organising an all expenses paid bus trip to a local scenic attraction. With one day's notice, this happened today - the sky is blue(!) - only the third day in 5 weeks. We drove about 60km out of the city to a steep gorge called Jiu ru shan, which has some springs and lakes. It's a (local) tourist attraction and there were a lot of (local) tourists there. I'll let the photos tell the story.

Tethered monkeys perform for the tourists

Look out for the Bucket Beast

Life can be good in Jinan !

After several days of spring rain and some wind -

• the streets are clean,
• the vegetation has been washed,
• people are smiling, and whistling,
• kids are laughing,
• the air is clear,
• and there's blue sky!

The weather is highly agreeable - bright warm sunshine with a cool breeze.
For the first time, I can now see fascinating mountainous hills encircling much of the city - they often have pagodas on the top of them. Very aesthetic.
At work, the half way point has been reached, and the tortuous essay assignment has been concluded. Moderation is complete. (We are now starting on an assignment involving surveys, reports and an oral presentation).
My colleagues are agreeable. The students are a delight as always.
In my own time, and on the behest of my boss, I sat in on a Chinese teacher's English class, and was most impressed. I offered her a reciprocal experience.
In my absence, my apartment has been cleaned by Jo the lovely cleaning lady. Such a pleasure to open the door to a clean and tidy apartment!
I have just opened a cold beer (cheap and excellent quality), chomped on a hard boiled egg (cooked in soy sauce).
Now I'm settling down for a Skype chat with my partner, whom I miss so much!
What's this? An SMS message from my boss? We won't get paid tomorrow as promised?
Oh, well....

Street food

Steamed pork and vegetables buns
The making of noodles
The making of the steamed pork and vegetable buns

Pig snouts, and other pig parts

Hygiene in Jinan

Many Chinese have some interesting habits that, well, are not hygienic. Like not using toilet paper, or water, when they defecate. Like not washing hands afterwards. Like snot blowing. Like public hemming, hawking and spitting. This can be quite offputting!

However, I find that I am becoming increasingly localised, as my lungs struggle with the unceasing pollution. Apart from the sore and perpetually watering eyes, I hawk up terrible globs that are grey-yellow. If I don't have a tissue on me, these globs I try to surreptiously spit in an appropriate place - convincing myself that I am simply recycling Jinan's dirt.

I am listening to the jingoistic Chinese Olympic song on television, "One World, One Dream". It contains the remarkable lyric: "the smell of fresh air everywhere". Perhaps that's the One Dream bit.

Here is an interesting picture. I recently visited a fancy rest room in a mid price restaurant. Look carefully, not just at the dirty artificial roses. The urinals were full of ice cubes. They didn't mask the rank smell. (But they were fun to melt when having a pee !)

University campus sports fields

The boarder's quilts are airing in the dusty sun, next to the dusty soccer ground and dusty asphalt basketball courts with the stadium in the background. The stadium "lawn" is synthetic, with dust. The track is rough red hard bitumen. The mountain you see behind the stadium will soon no longer be there as it is inexorably being quarried.

The language barrier

I regret not learning Chinese in the months before I left Australia. From past travel experiences I had found that one could get by without necessarily learning the local language. But here in China, because the writing is not in Roman characters, and because so very few people speak or understand English, the language barrier is firmly set.

I am collecting some photos of shop-fronts, which I will post soon. The Chinese love signs, and the Chinese characters can be very descriptive. But for me they hold no clue as to what sort of shop it is, and if you cannot see through the window, you remain clueless. Rarely are pictures or logos used. One night I was coming home late from work and from the bus I was able to see the lighted interior of many shops - and was delighted to realise that there was an optometrist, there a baker, a dentist, a photocopy centre, an estate agent ... etc.

Here is a photo of one shop I could easily understand. They sell pears ....

What is annoying is that, although it is quickly obvious I am a foreigner with no Chinese, locals still expect me to understand them, as their voices get louder and shriller each time they repeat. Or (in the case of a group of women), start giggling inanely, and others crowd around to join the fun. I am a rarity, of course, and most locals seem never to have had the experience of trying to assist a foreigner. But neither do they seem to want to.

But some succeed, and very well. A taxi driver, when he realised I had no Chinese, uttered not another word for the rest of the journey, but mimed and pointed. He was able to successfully convey this somewhat complex message:

"Look over there, at that fat pig of a traffic policeman, chatting on his mobile phone, instead of doing his job and directing traffic, and helping me get through this terrible traffic jam! He should be sacked!" (Photo: Google Images)

The irony about not learning Chinese before I left is that where I used to live in Australia - directly opposite my house - was a regular Saturday morning Chinese language school.

Street Scenes 3

Boys, and construction sites, and big pipes, just big enough so that you can crawl though. Irresistable!

Isn't it just the same in for every country in this world?

Exploring Traditional Chinese Medicine in China

My previous career was in natural therapies, which includes Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM). I was delighted to find a TCM University here in Jinan, and decided to pay a visit, and get some of my health concerns attended to at the same time at their clinic.

On arrival at the huge, imposing building I found to my dismay that it was under renovation. So as I stood there scratching my head, I was approached by a 23 yo Chinese student, a girl with an "English name" of Joan, who offered to help me.

And help me she did. She accompanied me as my guide and translator for the next four hours as I went through an amazing process. First I had a consultation with a beautifully preserved woman at the student clinic who referred me to a clinic at the nearby hospital, that was affiliated with the university. We walked a kilometre through back streets to a building I would not have recognised as a clinic let alone a hospital, and paid 6 kwai to see a another beautifully preserved woman doctor. She took my pulses and looked at my tongue and apologised that apart from Chinese she didn't know English - only Russian (which dated her).

Amazingly, during the consultation, the next patient just walks in and sits down, very interested to hear about my medical problems. And then the next patient and her husband. There were now six in the room. I was causing a log jam. I was astounded to see in the next cubicle a patient smoking while he was consulting the doctor.

It was somewhat embarrassing for me to have to translate my medical symptoms through Joan - but she seems to be enjoying the experience of putting her "English major" into practice. I would have been absolutely lost without her, with all the bureaucratic steps (I had to go back to the cashier's office three times as my consultation progressed). I was expecting acupuncture. I was given an ECG for 60 kwai (the cost of the previous night's meal!) and prescribed some western drug (drat!) as well as liquid Chinese herbs in sachets (150 kwai). I needed to return at 5.30 that evening to collect them.


In the dispensary I was amused to see one staff member in a dirty white coat with an ancient abacus in front of her, using a modern mobile phone to do her calculations.

Interestingly, when I asked Joan whether I needed a referral to a specialist, and would the doctor be offended if I asked her, she replied "In China we have a saying that you need to visit at least three doctors!" When asked whether the doctor would refer me, Joan looked shocked. No, that wasn't the doctors prerogative. It seems you have to find your own specialist?

To show my gratitude, I took Joan to a restaurant (with English translations on the menu), and as she was currently seeking a job, introduced her to a travel agent I had been dealing with, who happily advised her how to get a job in his company.

I had to return that evening and was chuffed to catch the right bus and get off at the right place, but it was 6pm when I get there and found the place closed! But an affable man at a side door barked instructions to a student to take me around the back of the building and I was able to collect the (still hot) brewed herbs. Which taste vile.

Wrong culinary decision

I was issued with a small laminated card which displayed essential addresses in Chinese characters. It also lists some recommended restaurants.

I usually like dumplings, so armed with some pieces of paper with food translations, I thought I'd venture forth to "The Dumpling Restaurant". But the information on the card turned out to be wrong. Despite enlisting the help of several people, The Dumpling Restaurant was a mystery.

So I chose a restaurant with the biggest neon signs. I should have noticed that here were not that many local people eating there. It was one of those places that had booths, so you couldn't see other diners.

The waitress thought it quite funny when I produced my translation sheets. I thought I ordered roast pork and vegetables and rice. What arrived (apart from some rice) was a HUGE bowl of fishy (eel?) chili soup, which was impossibly hot and oily, plus another plate of overcooked vegetables swimming in oil. I could manage only a few mouthfuls and paid an outrageous price (65 kwai) for the experience. (Most locals can eat out very well for about 10 kwai).

But the worst part of this learning experience was that all stages of my discomfort was relayed by the waitress across the restaurant to the kitchen at the top of her voice, to hoots of laughter by both staff and other diners.

Old campus

I live on the old campus. There are some older retired people who live on the old campus, too, probably for most of their lives. They would have seen some enormous changes in their country over their lives.

You can greet them with a friendly smile, but they stare back impassively.


Students may have lessons at the old campus but need to commute back to their dorms in the new campus. So they queue for the shuttle bus.


There are police who guard the entrances of the campus. From what, I'm not sure.


And here is an old lady shuffling down to the police post to see what the day might hold for her behind her breathing mask.

Sunday afternoon in Quandeng Square

This enormous square, with a big blue two legged sculpture at the centre, and a shopping mall beneath, is in the middle of Jinan.

It was a warm, Spring, Sunday afternoon, with just enough breeze to lift the kites. People are entertained by the amazing fountains, and each other. Kite fliers, roller skaters, lovers, men spinning tops.

I've 25 photos on FlickR, so click here for a slide show!


And below is a short video of some top spinners, entertaining an appreciative crowd. Listen to the weird sound the tops produce.

Soft boiled eggs for breakfast

Soft boiled eggs, on toast, for breakfast!

Big deal, you might think. The minimum culinary challenge for any man.

Well, here in Jinan, in my tiny windowless benchless kitchen, it was no small achievement.

Let me tell you why.

• I didn't know whether the eggs I bought were already cooked. At least they didn't float - that was a good sign!
• I didn't have a small saucepan - but I did have a large thin stainless steel pot.
• The electric hotplate instructions are all in Chinese, and I had to buy an adapter for the plug, and even then, force the plug into it.
• Bread that is not impossibly sweet is difficult to obtain in Jinan. The only knife we are issued with is a large Chinese chopper.
• I didn't have a toaster. But I did have a large thin stainless steel pot! I used chopsticks to turn over the cooking bread.
• I had some (expensive) butter, to be spread with a large Chinese chopper!
• No egg cup, but hey, soft boiled eggs are great just spooned over the toast. But no teaspoon! I did have a chinese ceramic spoon, which is totally unsuitable for the task.
• No salt or pepper, but a splash of soy sauce instead.
• No knife and fork. (Eating softboiled eggs on toast using chopticks is stupid.) So fingers sufficed.

Scrumptious!

(It's so much easier - and probably cheaper - to eat out.)

Saturday in the park

I walking through the adjacent park (trying to warm up) when I came across this boy, with his stick, and his puddle. I hurried back to the apartment to get my camera.


Other kids play, with or without a helping hand.











Older citizens, wearing warm clothing, play croquet. Vigorously.


From the park, we see a building being built in the distance with workmen perched precariously on top of it. And the recent rain has revealed that the dirty grey plants actually have delightful colour!