My Paparazzi

My time in China has been accompanied by the acronym OIC (only in China). It usually comes when I see 6 in. lime green high heels with knee-high nylons, a man standing on two wooden ladders taped together to fix a traffic light, or while walking down the street and seeing little children attach themselves to people’s legs as they pass until they agree to buy a flower. Yesterday was all new, new experiences, new laughter, just new!
We (the foreign teachers) had gone for dinner at Jiang Han Lue, a common shopping street with people, lights, food, and arcades. It has a tendency to make those who are not used to China a bit dizzy and confused. The people, loud music, employees clapping vigorously to attract customers, the men coming up to ask if you want “shoes, shoes, watch” follow you until you’re out of sight, glow in the dark toys, smells, old women collecting trash, taxis, busses…it is sensory overload to the max. As we were walking yesterday we noticed a group of professional photographers flocked around a storefront taking pictures of obviously made-up models. This could mean one of two things. Either it was a real live photo shoot or it was a moneymaking scheme, (dress people up, take model-esque pictures, and earn money). Craig and Marianne always scheming to get in the limelight jumped in the storefront as the models stood up and the photographers were so excited. They pushed us all in and started snapping pictures. This was awkward and just funny so I was glad when we stood to leave but…one lady grabbed my hand and forced me back down ALL BY MYSELF! They were so excited and saying “so beautiful” and all I could do was grin with a nervous unbelieving smile and look over at my friends amidst flashes of the paparazzi. You can look for me sometime soon in a Chinese advertisement. It wasn’t a moneymaking scheme.
After a great dinner of sushi and rounds of DDR at an arcade we went up an escalator and found ourselves on the women’s make-up and shoe department of a shopping mall. As it was late and there were few customers, the classical piano was loud over the sound system and what could I do but as Patrick to dace with me. Thank you, thank you. I have now done a very embarrassing and unusual thing that I would only dream of doing and never actually do. I slow danced with Patrick in a department store. OIC.

white wine mishap

I’ve been cooking a lot lately and I really enjoy it. Two of my favorite recipe sources are allrecipes.com and Williams-Sonoma. I’ve been leaning more toward the gourmet Williams-Sonoma recipes that have words such as braised, candied, risotto, and use fresh, light ingredients.
Last week I bookmarked several recipes to make and went to the store for ingredients. Several of the recipes called for white wine. While surveying the white wine 55RMB next to the white wine vinegar 10RMB, I decided they must be the same thing :) We threw away dinner that night and had street food.
Today I tried again and found to my satisfaction, a 22RMB bottle of Chinese white wine. Perfect. It went in the cart and the floor cleaner came out (I only had enough for one).
Happily I came home, unpacked my groceries, and prepared to start dinner. Quite proud that I had purchased my own bottle of wine and still being only 20 I decided to open it first because I’d always wanted to use one of those nifty looking wine bottle openers. I positioned the bottle and the opener- spiral inside of the cork. Nothing happened, but I made a giant hole. I lifted the opener and tried again in a new spot…same thing happened. Hmmm. I lifted the opener and re-adjusted the metal side wings preparing to put a lot of pressure on the opener when I turned it, maybe then it would go into the cork. I positioned it just so, placed my face directly above the cork, and with all of my might pushed the point into the cork. Immediately the pressure from within the bottle released, the cork went in the bottle and wine came up spraying all over my hair, face, and into my eyes which immediately burned…I overreact and to ensure that I wouldn’t go blind I doused my eyes with water over and over getting the sink and myself all wet.

I tried pulling the cork out with tweezers (once I tested my vision by reading things near and far with both eyes. I’m not blind.) which didn’t work. Hopefully Patrick will be home soon. I’m guessing he won’t be surprised. Our life is filled with my little mishaps.




In other news I decided that I needed a summer hair cut. Patrick was going to get his cut and I thought, why not mine? Humidity (ick) has selected my daily style- a pony tail- every day, so I decided to try the Chinese salon. I did really want to cut my hair short, but I have been continuing to observe to hair around me and I thought it might be best to wait until I get home. I didn’t want a Mohawk, a she-fro, or a shaved head, and that is their specialty. But…the adventurer in me won out and I wanted to try it. It was the best haircut that I have ever received. It may not be America perfect, which is manicured with gels and other life-giving products, but he spent 2 hours shaping and perfecting (and I have really thin hair) to create body, curl, and oomph. I love it. It’s short, spunky, textured, good curly or straight, easy to fluff-and-go, and humidity proof. I like my China hair. It was funny though because he was trying to cut and parts of my hair would dry curly or in a funky not-straight spiral and he didn’t know what to do…Chinese hair is always straight and always cooperates. They were also trying to style it like a picture of Elisha Cuthbert but they didn’t know how to get “white-girl hair” to look that way. I knew they needed a curling iron and some spray, but I just let them try to do it with a blow dryer and round brush all the while enjoying the 10s of hairdressers and customers surrounding the Wei-go-ren getting her hair cut.