Radio Silence, part one- The London Gentleman

It’s just rounding 8:00a.m. I’ve been on this train for about twenty-four hours and have another four to go.

But we’ll come to that.

 

It’s been a busy few days. And it’s been a busy few days in a new hotel without internet. So I’ll start at the top of these… Events.

On Sunday afternoon I met my boss, a Chinese woman named Kristy who runs the who program I work for. This was an experience in and of itself. I was planning to take a bus but I was under the impression you needed a fare card. After an hour of wandering I couldn’t locate anything that appeared to produce them so I took a cab. I later found out that fare cards are optional. It costs one Yuan to take the bus via cash fare. That’s like, fifteen cents. China, you win this round.

 

Anyway, I made it to the hotel and met Kristy. We had lunch and talked a bit about the school and the job and our schedule for the next few days. Eventually the conversation digressed to the other new Beijing teacher: Gavin, A twenty-something from London. Gavin and Kristy were set up in the same hotel right next to the Beijing West Railway Station’s South Square where, I found out during lunch, I’d be taking a train to Guilin to get my government health check, Visa extension, and final training.

 

Side bar: A Chinese work visa is valid for thirty days. So, anyone working in China has that thirty days to procure the proper extensions. Apparently, the requirements for Visa extensions are different in different regions. Gavin and I, who both lack any prior English teaching experience, aren’t technically qualified to get our extensions in Beijing. So we’re going to Guilin, Kristy’s hometown and other school location, to get our papers in order before heading back to Beijing.

 

After lunch, Kristy seemed intent on taking us sightseeing. Gavin and I were too polite to decline so next thing I knew we were on a bus to the Forbidden Palace. It’s worth noting: Gavin’s only been off the plane for about four hours and I’m still jet lagged like hell. I want to see all the touristy stuff, but I have a whole year. Really I just want to find a place to stay so I can unpack (this will become a recurring theme).

The Palace is imposing and very touristy. People pedal off the red book of quotes, hats with red stars, and ice cream. There are people playing badminton and there are basket ball hoops. There are CROWDS. There’s reverence. And there is a LOT of security cameras. I’d like to go back when I’m not carrying my too heavy back pack and when Gavin has his camera.

We decide it’s time to go back towards our hotel for dinner. Loading onto another bus between the Forbidden Palace and one of Beijing’s main rail hubs really solidifies everything I’ve read about China’s population. The bus is a can of sardines, smell included. I can’t even stand straight over my own feet. The experience pushes Gavin and I a tad closer to madness. Luckily, the ride is only about forty minutes and we’re back to clean up before dinner. My hotel is the wrong way so I just sit in Gavin’s room while he readies himself.

Dinner is a non-issue. Dumplings with Kristy’s very quiet, alcohol enjoying, friend.

 

After dinner we have our first training.  She gives us the option of going to her office, a two hour bus ride, or sitting in the hotel lobby. Any guess where we ended up? So we’re in the lobby and we’re both being trained for Kindergarten level English in a program called Parade English. It’s a bunch of bright, cartoony characters with over done voices and puppets. The first night is pretty short. We don’t start until quite late and only have to go over the outline of a basic teaching methodology. However, we are given homework.  Myself more so than Gavin.

We both have work for the class, but I have to find my way back to my hotel and then move into Gavin’s room the next morning. It’s like, 9:30p.m., so not too late if you aren’t in the throes of jet lag. Kristy rights my bus down for me on a slip of paper and I’m off. I find a policeman and helplessly show him my paper. “那里？” I ask, hoping I’m saying it right. It’s basically the question “where?” He then walks me all the way to my bus stop. Bless you, Chinese policeman. Bless you.

 

That part went well. The next part… Well. I know there’s a bus stop right outside my hotel room, Because Kristy never specified otherwise: I figured this is the one I’m shooting for. Then the bus is empty and I have NO FUCKING CLUE where I am. Fortunately, neither of the people working on the bus speaks a lick of English. However, one of them calls a friend of his who speaks English and we work out where I’m supposed to get off. I pay again and we’re off.

I’m shooed off the bus at the appropriate stop by the attendant who’d lent me his phone and told to follow this woman who’s heading the same direction of my hotel. She doesn’t acknowledge me, but she does ensure I’m still tagging along. Eventually I recognize where I am, thank God for my aimless wandering the day prior, and wave “good bye” and strike off for “home.”

 

When I get to the lobby I try to arrange a taxi for my hotel swap the next day. Long story short, it takes twenty minutes for me to realize she’s just telling me to go across the street and hail a cab when I need one. China’s officially kicking my ass at this point.