Thursday 31 August 2006

Xinyang

Xinyang

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Sculpture on campus

Zeneta got off the train well before me because I was wrestling with the baggage. Mr. Lu, who also addressed her as Mrs. Robert, met her as she got onto the platform. We then grabbed our luggage (I almost wrote packs, with the amount that we were packing this stuff, packs may have made some sense) and off we went, up and down several flights of stairs. On the way we happened to run into a chemistry professor. He also helped us with the bags.

We got into a couple of taxis that headed toward the hotel that the college was putting us in for our first night in Xinyang. There were two reasons for putting us in the hotel. The first was that there was work being done on the water at the university, and there was no question that the first thing that we wanted was a shower. The other reason, I believe, in putting us in the hotel was that it was late and to have taken us directly to our apartment would have involved far too much explanation in how to use the devices in the room.

We were also suffering from a lack of water for several days. The plan of taking peoples drinking water needs to be thoroughly reexamined. I suspect that part of the problem is that the people who make these decisions only fly first class and do not realize that other passengers are becoming ill from the effects of there being no water. I can not help but wonder if the, several days long, severe headache that I am suffering as I write this is, in some part, due to my having been thirsty for so long. That was part of the reason that I did not talk much to the people on the train, even after I discovered that they did speak English. The, much appreciated, 600ml bottle of water that I was given by Victor did not replenish the loss of several days.

One of the first things that I asked about was drinking water. I was shown an interesting kettle that is used to boil the water. We were shown how to use it and were given an admonishment that we were not to handle it with damp hands. This was to avoid any contamination of the water in the kettle.

We both took our, much needed, showers and, after drinking as much of the warm water as we could, went to bed. Even with the boiling, it is clear that the water is treated. There is a strong chlorine taste. Even the bottled waters have an odd taste, when compared to the bottled water that we are used to. Of things that we could have done better, we could have made sure that our checked baggage was closer to the permitted limit, with some water packed in it. As it was, it was pure luck that we came in at the allowable weight.

The next morning we ran into a bit of difficulty. We discovered that our room key would not allow us back in our room. This made it impossible for us to go and get breakfast. I went to the front desk in order to try to get the room key issue resolved, it was one of those electronic card lock things and they assumed that I was asking for breakfast to be brought to our room.

They did bring a plate of cookies and breads along with some milk (the milk was warm, that seems to be the normal way to serve beverages here). This addressed the breakfast issue. However it did not address the key issue. I was able to show the problem to the bellhop and we got it resolved. [I took some midrin about an hour ago and the headache is much better now. I am now functional. We were not able to find aspirin or Tylenol in the chemists and are still unable to find throat lozenges]

Zeneta at the Hotel

Zeneta at the Hotel (sorry about the lack of flash)

I went out to the Lobby in order to write some and to wait for Mr. Lu. He arrived and we went for another suicide taxi ride. This time the ride was to the college. We went up to our rooms and were introduced to the other English teachers. The greeting we received was, "welcome to Little Australia," from a pretty young woman with an Australian accent.

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Entering Xinyang

The cab ride.

A number of other teachers had already arrived. There is an older couple from Australia, Collin and Bronny. Bronny is originally from New Zealand, she is also teaching. However, it is Collin that has the general experience in teaching. There is a a teacher from South Africa. Finally, there is Michelle from Australia, the person who greeted us. Michelle is also the closest to our age and is next door to us in the apartment complex.

Shortly after we got into the apartment we were called upon to attend a welcome luncheon. It was very good with a large selection of different types of food (all of it Chinese, no big surprise there). This is, of course, one of the first times that I was called upon to master the art of eating with chopsticks. The good news on that regard is that, while taking classes, in Davis, CA I regularly ate at a place that served the food with chopsticks. The only, truly, strange food was the fish head. As the guest of honor, I was expected to eat the first if it. It was surprisingly good. After the dinner we returned to our room and fell asleep. Both the time change and the rigors of travel (most of the teachers were amazed that we had chosen to cross China by train) had left both of us, pretty much exhausted.

The next day we got up and Michelle offered to walk us to the market. It was a rather long walk and I noticed that all along the streets are small shops and vendor stands. The market was not that large. However, when combined with the goods available from the street vendors, there is quite a bit available. I did note to Zeneta, after walking with Michelle for a while, that we were going to have to learn both Chinese and Australian. In truth, there is not a big difference between American and Australian. The difference lies in little things, like the thermos being called a kettle.

That afternoon, Collin and Bronny wanted to go look for bicycles. They also needed to book a flight to Hong Kong in order to get their Z visas. This is where we met two more people that were essential to our living here, Susanne and Kennie; this was a different person with the same name than the man from South Africa. Both Susanne and Kennie are young women who speak some English and have served as invaluable resources to the English teachers in the past. I know Susanne works for the college; she works in the same building as I have been assigned to, and I think that Kennie also works for the college.

They took us into town by hailing the cabs and providing directions to the drivers. They then they traveled with us, by splitting up and traveling with one of them in each cab. We then spent the day getting air tickets for Collin and Bronny, trying to get some cash out of the bank for Michelle, converting our cash from USD to Yuan and then going to look at bicycles with Collin and Bronny. They purchased bicycles that day. However, I decided to discuss it with Zeneta and then return the next day if I wanted to get one. [I am glad I finally did, it made going to the market this morning enough easier to actually call it pleasant]

We then went to a large market. This was a busy and loud place that seemed to have a bit of most things. The only trouble was the risk of becoming separated. This would be a bad place to get lost. I worked on that the next day when I was with Susanne, the, "what to do if I get separated," plan. We then took a bus back to the college. This was another suicide driver. As I commented to Zeneta, they can get away with this level of disorganized driving because of the relative lack of vehicles on the road. While there are clearly more than I expected, it is not so many that rigid traffic control is essential. I will discuss vehicles more in a detailed section on vehicles.

The bus put us at one of the back gates to the campus, this allowed me to walk past the building that I will be teaching at and get an idea as to how far it is from where I am living. This pretty much cinched the need for a bicycle.

Michelle then showed me where the office that I am to report to was at and I managed to get a water dispenser. It turned out that several of us showed up at that time, all with questions about the classes that we would be teaching. We were told to come back on Friday and that we would get answers then. This caused a lot of concern. It is tough to know that classes start on Monday and that we had no idea of what we were to be teaching. With little else to do that day, we all wandered off into our separate directions.

Tuesday 29 August 2006

The Journey

The Journey

The trip to the city where I was scheduled to work, Xinyang, China, involved several legs. I had planned as well as I could, however, plans often fail, as I will get to. It was our intent to leave on the southbound Amtrak train out of Dunsmuir, CA. The concern with this train is that it has a history of always being late. So much so that it would be hard to find a regular rider of this route that can remember it having ever been on time. I can say with certainty that I have never seen it on time and that I have never spoken to any person who recounted it having arrived on time.

I dealt with this untimeliness, of Amtrak, by working extra time into our schedule. So, when the train that was scheduled to leave at 0:25 in the morning, it did not greatly alter our schedule when it finally arrived at 3:25. In fact, I was somewhat surprised that it was so early.

The train from Dunsmuir, CA (DUN) to Emeryville, CA (EMY) was somewhat uneventful. It was at Emeryville that the plan ran into its first snag. I had called the BART(Bay Area Rapid Transit) office in order to plan our route from EMY to the San Francisco International Airport (SFO). I was told to catch the Emery-go-round shuttle at EMY, ride the light rail to the Mc Arthur Street Station, from there to go to the Balboa Street Station via light rail, and from there I was to catch the final light rail leg to SFO.

AMTRAK at EMY

AMTRAK at Emeryville

In order to make sure that this route was going to work I called the BART information line in order to insure that the Emery-go-round shuttle did indeed run on Sunday, the day I was scheduled to need it. I was assured that it did run by the person at the BART information line. However, upon arriving at EMY, I discovered the truth of the matter.

I asked at the Amtrak desk where I would catch the shuttle to the Mc Arthur Street station and I was told that there was none (actually, he said, "they lied to you."). I was directed to the bus stop where I could get the information number and the route number for the emery-go-round and find out when its next scheduled run was. When I called that number I was told by a recording that there was no pick up time for that day at EMY.

This was a definite snag in the plan. I was now standing in a train station about forty five miles from where I needed to go and no way to get there, not to mention Zeneta who was already exhausted from moving her luggage. We quickly discovered that the journey would be a very athletic endeavor.

The Amtrak employee told us that there was a BART stop on the other side of the set of tracks (many tracks) in front of the Borders Books, which we could barely see. Further, we were told that if we caught bus 57 that it would take us to the Mc Arthur Street rail station.

So, off we went, trekking off to Borders Books. It may have only been a couple of hundred yards. However, it was a long couple of hundred yards. Then, after arriving at the general vicinity of where we had been sent, I did not see a bus stop.

It was at this point that, while the plan had failed, our luck held. I asked a cheerful looking young woman where the bus stop was and she asked where we were trying to get. We told her that we were trying to get to the Mc Arthur Street Station. We also added that the ultimate destination was SFO.

After pointing to where the bus stop was, she offered to drive us to a more direct station, Oakland West, which would allow us to travel to SFO with no transfers. We took her up on her offer and loaded our luggage into her station wagon. On the way to the station we chatted with her about our intended destination and she mentioned having several friends who were in, or had recently returned from, China. She reported that all of them had enjoyed the experience and that several of them had traveled to China several times, with positive reports from each visit.

Unknown Woman who drove us to the BART. Thank You!

The unknown woman who drove us to the BART station (If you know who she is, let us know)

When we arrived at the BART station, she told us which train we would need to take to arrive at SFO. We thanked her and went inside for a rather uneventful ride across the bay.

BART at SFO

BART at SFO

At SFO we switched to the terminal train. This was a train that traveled to the various terminals within the station, a much better arrangement than we would find in Los Angeles. Although we had some confusion as to exactly which terminal we needed to get off at, there happened to be a person on the car the knew, based on where we were going, which terminal we would be needing.

This, next, leg of the trip was conducted on United Airlines. It was at this point that we had to dispose of the majority of our food and water. It later occurred to us that we should have put our drinking water in our checked baggage, seeing as we had to retrieve our checked baggage ourselves. The baggage did not check straight though. However, it is unlikely that would have worked due to our being so close to the weight limit on our baggage as it was.

We had to spend several minutes unpacking and repacking our bags in order to make them all fall under fifty pounds (26 kilos, we are having to think in metric). There was a scale available to use in the lobby and its presence was a great help.

It came as no surprise to me that we were marked with the SSSS designation on our ticket. That is the code that is used to indicate which passengers will be screened more extensively [as I type this it is now 06:00, I know this because I can hear a rendition of revelry being played on speakers across the campus]. For a better understanding of the various security codes and the conditions that trigger them, I would recommend reading 2600. 2600 is a magazine is a magazine devoted to user submitted articles on arcane technical topics.

Of course, due to some of my hobbies, several items of mine tested positive on the chemical test and were x-rayed several times. These items would include my camera bag (but not the camera) and my sandals; both of which have probably had quite a bit of exposure to black powder and its Pyrodex substitute.

One thing I did notice, about having been singled out for greater security, was that we got through security far quicker then the people that were in the normal check line. As we approached the lines we were directed to the higher level screening line. As it happened, there was no one else in that line and a large staff was devoted to servicing just that line.

They did have some trouble identifying several of my items, including my Apple Airport Base-station/Router. I also noticed, some time later, that my Fischer SpacePen (an ink pen of an odd design) was also missing. I can only conclude that it was confiscated there. I intend to begin the complaint process as soon as I have an Internet connection. I do not really expect to get my pen back. However, it will serve as an interesting exercise.

From San Francisco we flew directly to Los Angeles (LAX). The strain of constantly carrying her hand baggage was beginning to get to Zeneta, and the athletic part of the journey had not even begun.

At Los Angeles we first picked up our baggage from the carousal, as it was not transferred from United Airlines to China Air, and went looking for the China Air terminal. As we quickly discovered, there is no an easy way to get across LAX. We had to roll our luggage several hundred yards. Then from there we got on a, very crowded, standing only bus. Zeneta had particular trouble with her luggage and we ended up separated for a short while.

After getting off the shuttle bus we then started looking for China Air. At this point it was worth the cost to purchase the use of a cart for our luggage and the walking got much easer. However, there was still a lot of the walking to do.

When we finally located the China Air counter we found it to be closed. Until the China Air staff arrived we never did see the sign, which stated that they opened at 21:30. I suspect that they put it out when they arrived.

By the time that they did arrive there was already quite a line and I am glad that we arrived early. It was only after they arrived that they put out the ropes to define the location of the line. It was somewhat surprising to see how many people were waiting. However, later, when I saw that the 747-400 was full I was not surprised at all.

It was interesting that they did not take our bags. They weighed them, put tags on them, and then returned them to us. We then took them to the baggage drop off area. It was there that the bags were scanned and loaded onto carts

As it was late in the evening, security went very smoothly and quickly. We proceeded to the gate we were to use and I found a place on the ground and napped for a while. I discovered that the power outlets were turned off, unlike SFO and most other major airports, Because of this, I was not able to recharge my computer and gameboy.

The flight itself was a great non-event. It was a waste to request a window seat because the crew insisted that the windows be kept closed throughout the flight. I would expect that this was due to a desire to conserve heat as it is very cold at those high altitudes. However, it did rob me of one of the joys I do have while flying. I was also not able to find a channel on the headset that would allow me to listen to the cockpit radio. On United Airlines it is channel nine.

When we arrived in China, instead of going through the customary US terminal boarding tube we went down a flight of stairs that were rolled up to the plane and took a bus. The bus took us to the terminal. Many flights of stairs, and a few escalators, later we arrived at the visa checkpoint. They wanted the papers that we were to have completed on the plane. These were some generic, "fill in your name," forms. They took these without even looking at them and stamped our visas.

We then proceeded to the baggage carousel, found our baggage and headed for customs. This was the first surprise, considering the impression that many have of China, there was no one there. By this, I mean that no one checked our baggage, or the things we had brought with us, at all.

From the non-existent customs check, we proceeded to the arrival greeting area. Here was the first big scare. There was no one at the arrival greeting area to meet us. It seems that our flight arrived over 30 minutes early (there is a little story here that I will share when I get back).

I found a seating area for Zeneta and continued back to the greeting area to continue to look for our contact. It was at this time that I realized that Jane, our contact, had not told me who I was to meet, or provided me with a description. I was already a bit apprehensive and was not about to go with any person that could not show me that they were there for the purpose of meeting me.

I then heard someone calling out, what sounded like, "Robert." I then looked and saw that while he was holding a sign with a different name on it, his friend was holding a sign that said, "Robert & Zeneta." It turned out that both he was a bit late, and, as stated, the flight was slightly early. However, it happened that there was a delay we met Victor. Victor was our contact from the teaching group. He also provided Zeneta with her first exposure to, what seems to be, the name that she is to be commonly addressed by here in China; Mrs. Robert.

I had told Victor that Zeneta was in great need of water. So, before going and greeting her, he went to get her some water. At some point while he was going for water I had wandered off and so he returned to her and greeted her as Mrs. Robert. This cultural difference left her a bit off balance. However, she quickly discovered that he was speaking to her.

Victor then took us to the train station in Beijing. At this point we were again working at a run because the train was scheduled to leave soon. We ended up having Zeneta wait with the baggage so that we would not be carrying it down, and then back up, several flights of stairs as we went for the tickets.

As we were returning to her with the tickets, I heard a call of, "Robert, Hurry!" It seems that a very pushy man had been surprised to find a foreign woman in the train station and was making a bit of a nuisance of himself. Upon the arrival of two men who, were obviously with her, the unnamed pushy man took off quickly.

It was another run through another transit terminal. At some point, when Victor became concerned with our being able to get to the train on time and to be able to have room to stow the baggage. We then engaged the services of two young women; they looked to be our daughters' ages to carry the bags for us. They immediately took of at a run with our bags and we followed in a new direction that got us to the train on time.

The train was an interesting affair. It looked like something out of the fifties, in a single level, rounded top and car end sort of way. The cars were non-smoking. However, there is smoking in the sections between the cars and the doors between the cars seem to be kept open in order to allow for vendor carts to travel through the train.

The train was what is called a hard sleeper. We arrived a bit late and the choice was that or standing. Standing for a seventeen hour train ride was not something either of us wanted to do. The options seem to be: soft sleeper, this is what we would think of as a normal compartment, hard sleeper, which I will describe in a moment, soft seat, this would be your typical padded seat, hard seat, an unpadded seat, and standing.

The hard sleeper was a bunk. Think of a train car divided into about ten compartments along one side. The compartments had no door and opened into an isle. The isle had jump seats that folded to the wall whenever they were not in use. The compartments themselves had six bunks, three on each side, running widthwise on the train. We were on the top, which is considered the more desirable bunk, and to access our bunks we needed to climb a ladder that is attached to the wall of the car.

I was less than pleased to find that there was not enough room to sit on the bunk. However, this bunk was closest to the air-conditioner. By this time we had been traveling over three days and there had been a lot of vigorous activity. Very simply, my shirt was soaked and I expect that I was smelling rather foul. I went down and sat on a jump seat for a while after the train began to move, taking a few pictures. The conductor than came by and exchanged my paper ticket for a plastic card. Do not loose the plastic card.

Unknown Woman who drove us to the BART. Thank You!Zeneta at the Hotel

Zeneta and Mr. Lou, The flash didn't fireZeneta and Mr. Lou, The flash didn't fire

Zeneta and Mr. Lou, The flash didn't fireZeneta and Mr. Lou, The flash didn't fire

Zeneta and Mr. Lou, The flash didn't fire

Some pictures from the train.

At some point I wandered in search of a toilet, labeled, rather clearly, as, ¡°toilet.¡± This was a bit of a shock. The toilet consisted of a stainless steel trough like arrangement that was recessed into the floor. There was a bucket of water present to assist in flushing. I hit the flush lever on the floor (I assume it was the flush lever, it was in the right place) and a trap in the bottom of the trough opened and I thought I saw light. Out of curiosity I checked again. I was right. The toilet just flushes by dumping out of the train. I then returned to my bunk and went to sleep.

At some point while I was sleeping it appears that I dropped the book that I was reading. The people on the lower bunks passed it up to Zeneta. However, I had placed the plastic card that was given to me by the conductor into the book and it seems to have become lost.

This caused a fair amount of consternation on the part of all parties. It appears that loosing the card is something that is just not done. It was at this point that the conductor showed me where it was supposed to have been kept. He did this by lifting and looking under the end corners of the bunks mat.

It was at this point that I discovered that the people with me on the train could speak English. The man on the jump seat next to the one I was sitting on told me that if I could not find the card I would be charged 5 Yuan(that comes to less than 1 USD). The girl that was with him was trying to be reassuring by telling me that it was not important. I felt rather guilty for having not spoken a word to them on the entire trip. Here I was, very possibly the first American that they had met and I was soaked in sweat and didn¡¯t say a word. I did not feel that this set a good impression. However, there was not much that I was able to do to fix it at that point except to be more aware in the future that many of the Chinese do speak some English.

Saturday 26 August 2006

Getting the Visa

Getting the Visa

Coming to China. Having concluded our preparations, Zeneta and I were ready to embark on our own trip, separate from Debra's, to China.

Our preparations differed, somewhat, from Debra's. While Debra went through The Buckland Group in her contacting, regarding positions in China; Zeneta and I went though another organization, Global Education Service.

The organization, Global Education Service, made a great point that we needed to insure that we obtained, "Z," visas. These Z visas are the visas that are issued to foreign experts. It turns out that in order to obtain the Z visa, more documentation is required than for the business Visa that Debra obtained.

This documentation issue, eventually, became a cause of much concern in the preparation stage. We had already purchased our tickets and still did not have the Visas. We reached a point in the plan timetable that it was essential that we have the documentation in order to get the Visas at the latest possible date, and the necessary documentation had still not arrived.

At this point, I was finally able to communicate to the person who was arranging the placement, that our plan was reaching a crisis point. We came up with two plans. While the first plan was preferable, due to issues such as travel and cost, the second plan was considered to be doable. Plan A was to continue with the attempts to obtain the Z visa. Plan B was that, in the case of failure of plan A, we would obtain tourist Visas and then travel to Hong Kong; and from there, obtain the Z Visa.

As stated, there was no longer time to wait for the necessary documents to arrive by mail. As a result, we found ourselves relying on scans of documents that are normally presented as originals. I will add that I was not overly concerned with this, as I had seen several people doing just this, on my previous visits to the Chinese consulate.

I started this leg of the trip by riding down to the home of my friend Ken, in Chico CA. I rode my motorcycle to Ken's residence because I had discovered, in a previous visit to San Francisco, that the only way to get around, efficiently and quickly, in that city is on a motorbike. At no time, in any of my visits to that city, did I ever park my motorcycle in a place that was even within sight of a place large enough to park a car.

From Ken's, I contacted Jane, the contact that I had with Global Education Service. As soon as I contacted her, via MSN, she sent me the scans of the necessary documents.

I then printed the documents on Ken's color printer. Ken is a senior field service engineer for a company that sells and services high end color copiers, faxes, and printers; as such, he had access to a very good color printer.

While the print we made would in no way stand to careful examination, it was in no way intended to, it did provide a understandable approximation of the document it was intended to resemble. The other documents that I was using were also printed on a color printer; however, not on one of the quality of the printer that I was able to use at Ken's.

With this document, the Visa application forms, and both passports in my possession; I rode off for the consulate. The ride there was normal and, for any that have entered a major US city during rush hour, not notable in any way.

When I arrived at the consulate, I noted that it was considerably busier than it had been when I went with Debra. However, there was a larger concern; well, two of them, the first was that we would not get our Z visas and be forced to fall back to plan B. The fall back plan was to get tourist visas, "L," visas. Then enter China and proceed to Hong Kong in order to process our Z visas. The second concern was that it appeared that they were not issuing same day visas. If that were the case, I would have to return to the consulate on the next day. Each ride, from Ken's, where I was staying, to the consulate was about 175 miles, each way.

It came to be my turn at the application window and I passed her all of my documents followed by the documents for my wife, Zeneta. The woman in the application desk reviewed them, and then passed them back to me for a minor correction. I made the correction and she continued to process them. Then she told me to return between 9:00 and 15:00 the next day. I tried to plead that it was a six-hour drive. However, this served to no avail and I left the consulate.

It really was that simple. There was no questioning of the documents, even though all of them had, clearly, been printed and were not originals. I returned the next day and picked up the Visas. There were no concerns raised and I left town.

There was one minor issue that has to do with the bridges in the bay area. In the past I had always gone though them during rush hour. During rush hour motorcycles and automobiles with three or more passengers (and other exceptions, buses, clean air vehicles) use the diamond lane. The diamond lane passes through the tollbooths without paying. I was very surprised to discover the gate on the diamond lane to be closed and I discovered that the toll free passage for motorcycles was only during peak hours. It seemed to serve as something of a reverse congestion charge, creating an incentive to travel during peak hours rather than a disincentive.

With my visas firmly in hand, I went to say good-bye to several of my friends in the Chico, CA area. My friend Ken, who I have remained close to since our days at Butte Community College, is also preparing to leave the area for economic reasons, house prices in California are forcing people to leave. As a result, when I return, I will not be able to, easily, visit him. I then visited my friend Scott, also a friend from my days at Butte Community College, where all three of us attended in the 1980's. I then started the ride for home.