Give or Take a Couple of Million

If you read my last blog post you might have noticed that I took an estimated guess at how many people live in this city. It might not be an exact guess considering I allowed for a difference of up to 2 million people, but population is a hard thing to nail down around here. For instance, there is a law on the number of children a family can have. Uyghur families living in the city can have two, those in the country can have three. But some people don't abide by the law and end up having more children. In order to keep these extra children they either have to a pay a big fine to the government, or else keep the child a secret by not registering them. A non registered child officially does not exist, which means they can't go to school and they are not included in a population count. These children will end up being street sweepers, house cleaners and such. They will never be able to move up in society because they officially don't exist. As sad as it sounds it is actually a very common thing, so common that some people actually figure there are likely two million unregistered, non legal children.

Weird Sights and Smells

So the other day I stepped out of my apartment to see a cow standing by the garbage pile. Keep in mind, we are living in a city of 3-5 million people, but the sight of the cow in the middle of my apartment complex was somehow not that surprising of a sight. I naturally assumed that many of my neighbours would be eating beef for dinner. As sure as sure could be a little over an hour later when I came home there was no cow, but the ground outside my front door was all bloody and red.

No Saying No

I was babysitting some of my friends children recently and was amazed at how well they listened. They understood that when I said no, I meant no. They willingly accepted my authority and listened so well.

I am not use to this attitude. Uyghur's believe that you should not discipline a child until they are thirteen and old enough to handle it. I have been over visiting some of my Uyghur grandmothers and while they were in the kitchen getting tea their grand kid has punched, bitten, and kicked me. When the lady came back and saw their precious child playing roughly with me, they didn't tell them "no" or get the child in trouble. Instead they just joked with him "you better stop this or big sister might not come back to visit you" "if you keep hurting your big sister her father might have to come and beat you up and he is a big, mean, strong man" (she issues the threat without knowing what a gentle and kind man my father really is). Disciple was issued only in terms of empty threats, it doesn't take a kid long to understand there is nothing behind them. It is just supposed out here that young children will be naughty and there is nothing to be done about it but wait.

Visiting some of these friends once landed me in bed for almost a week with a sore back. The kid had head rammed me in the stomach, driving me back into the wall. I was actually scared to go back to that ladies home and actually found out when her grandson was in preschool so that I could do my visiting when he was not around.

Worth it After All

So last week I was using the blog to bemoan my age and complain about a long night spent outside the airport. Our vacation is coming to a close and as I reflect on the relaxing week it has been I am forced to admit it was more than worth one uncomfortable night. I think the pictures can speak for themselves.

Great Views

Cable Car rides in the sky

Tall Waterfalls

Splashing in the waterfall's pool

And of course : The Beach

Fish Feasting on My Feet

Part of our annual holiday fun is to get a foot message or some sort of Asian spa treatment; it is cheap but relaxing and makes us feel fantastic. This year we saw an advertised fish message. Yes you read that right; it is a fish foot message. You stick your feet in a big over sized fish tank and let all the little guys swim around and in-between your toes eating the dead skin off your feet. Their mouths tickle against the bottom of your feet, but the result is pretty amazing. After 30 minutes of sitting there my feet were as soft as can be.

Too Old For This

To save on the cost of one night in a hotel, some friends and I decided to spend the night waiting around the airport. Our flight landed in at 12:30 a.m. and we had to be going again by 7 a.m. the next morning. While this is never the wisest idea, it is manageable if you can find a bench off in a back corner, then you and your friends can take turns dozing off or being the one to stay awake and watch the stuff. However, last week our brilliant $25 (spilt three ways) plan back fired on us. You see the airport was being fumigated, and even the 24 hour McDonalds was closed for 6 hours. We were all locked out of the airport and spent most of the night restlessly on the hard ground outside the airport. It was a miserably uncomfortable, muggy, long night, but it did teach me one very important lesson: "I am way too old for this".

Visual Contradictions

My friends and I had a six hour layover in Macau last week and we decided to go out and explore the city. Talk about confusing your senses: The city was a balance of old ruins and brand new bright light casinos.

It was also a weird blend of Portuguese and Chinese. All the architecture looks like it was pulled straight out of Portugal but the music sounded like it came from Beijing opera, and all the decorations look just like what I imagine most of China looks like. It was a sea of contradictions that were hard to put in their place.

Macau, use to be part of Portugal, but in 1999 the city was given over to China with the promise that nothing would change for 50 years. That means that you don't need a Chinese Visa to visit Macau and it is a cheap fun place to have a layover when travelling. All of the signs around town are in three languages, Chinese, Portuguese, and English.

No Two Snowflakes are Ever the Same

When we started to get into the Christmas mood out here my roommate and I decided to throw a party and invite some of our friends over to help us decorate. We got out the paper, markers, and scissors and decided we could have our friends help us make paper chains for the tree and cut out snowflakes for the window.
I had already make a few snowflakes before the guests arrived (ever since elementary school I have loved cutting out snowflakes and trying to make them as delicate as I can). Several of our friends saw the samples and decided they wanted to make them, but no one knew how. We had a group of over ten local college aged friends and none of them had ever cut out a snowflake before. I explained how to fold the paper, where to cut and where not to cut, I even made a new one as I explained. They all folded the paper, picked up one of my finished one and used it as a tracer. I tried to explain that no two snowflakes are the same and they they should use their own imagination to make their own. At that suggestion some of them gave up and went to make paper chains or to help hang the lights.

The whole situation made me think of what my American friends had commented about when they sent their kids to a local school. The education system here is based solely on rote memory and following examples to the letter. Creativity and imagination are not encouraged in school. They tell the story of when the teacher called them in because their son's picture of a cow was not the same. The teacher had been teaching an art lesson on how to draw a cow. Their son had changed his picture by making the cows head down and having him eat grass. The little boy had even added the grass to the picture. The teacher saw this as a child not able to follow directions and called his parents in for a meeting. The parents saw their son's picture as creative and fun, and praised him for thinking outside the imposed box.

Thinking back on this story reminded me why none of these young adults had never made a snowflake before. We cut them in school as an expression of our individuality, not a strict lesson in following rules. My friends still wanted a sample and so they cut out ones that were identical to mine. Now in our window there are more than 'two snowflakes that are the same'.

Coats Inside Out

Culture and customs can manifest themselves in the simplest every day actions. A westerner was visiting out here recently and I offered to take their coat. As they passed it to me they folded the coat by grabbing the shoulders and folding it. I took the coat and without even thinking about it refolded it the other way. My guest raised their eyebrow just slightly at my reflex action. Locals out here fold their coat so that the inside is facing out. They value keeping the outer part of the coat clean. I have had so many Uyghur guests through my home, and taken so many local peoples coats for them, that I now routinely fold them inside out. It is such a small thing, but it does reflect the little customs that are unique to different places and different peoples.

Using Internet

This post is once again coming to you live. I am out of the province, out of the country and on the internet. It's great! I am smiling from ear to ear right now. For the last few months we have been making a list of things to look up and do when we have internet again. Anyway over the next few days I will be adding pictures to past posts and such. Now is the time to leave comments, since I will actually get to read them myself. Thanks to those of you who have been leaving them, even though I wasn't able to check them personally until now, it is still fun to go back and read.

Since getting into town last night, I have already gone into the office to apply for a visa (I can pick up my first year long work visa on Thursday). I also got to sleep in and eat good food with friends.

Holiday Hostess

Due to the flu not all the students will be able to return to their home towns over the Korban Festival. My roommate and I got to thinking how lonely and miserable it would be to have to spend Christmas in dorm away from family and friends. We may not be good Uyghur Mama's but we figured we could open up our home over the holiday for some of our local friends who are stuck here away from their families. So the night before Korban the girls came over to our house and prepared some traditional food (lamb meat ball soup). They all shared some favorite traditions and memories and we tried to make as many of them come true as we could. Normally foreign students around the world feel honoured if they get invited to someone's home to share in the traditional holiday, this year we, the foreigners, played host to a festival that was not our own.

A Gun to the Head

My roommate works for a translation company, the other day two strange men came strolling into her office. They were dressed in uniforms and entered saying "everyone stay seated and don't move". The younger man pulled something from his pocket and pressed it against my friend's temple. A momentary fear griped her as the man pressed a button on the object pointed at her head. "37" the man said curtly to his associate, before moving on to her next work mate. It took my friend a second to realize they were taking every one's temperature to check for H1N1.

I had a similar experience last week just trying to go into a book store. It seems like all over the city people are scared of the spread of the virus. If a class have five students report being sick, the rest get the week off as well. My winter cough has set in, but I am scared to cough anywhere outside for fear that someone will lock me up in isolation for a week.

Face Mask Instead of Fruit

When news of the swine flu first started to be reported last year, I heard more than one Uyghur joke that we wouldn't have to worry, since the Uyghur diet is no pork allowed. But as we know H1N1 has spread far and wide and there have been some reported deaths in our city. This has fears running high and face masks on.

Every local store now sells surgical face masks. They come in every colour and fashion print imaginable. The other day my friend came over for a visit, but instead of bringing me the customary gift of fruit, she brought a pale purple heart print face mask.

Mehrigul Gets Ready for the Holiday

The Islamic holiday of Korban is fast approaching (or it will likely be over by the time my mom posts this blog entry for me) and I decided to go to the bazaar and let my neighbours help me get ready. The week before the market was just bustling with people preparing. People buy fruit and candy, cakes and cookies to offer when guests stop by, most women buy a new outfit so they have something pretty to wear when they go shopping, and some people buy small gifts for the children.

As I walked through the market I could hear people whispering to each other "that was the girl who was on the Lucky Star game show last week", or "that is the girl who was on T.V., her name is Mehrigul". Other people just started singing the folk song I had sung as they walked by. I stopped a group of college aged girls and asked if they could help me get ready for the holiday. For the next two hours it seemed like everyone in the market was thrown into the task of helping Mehrigul get ready. Those girls helped me choose a black, gray, and pink plaid skirt. At the next store other people helped me find a bright pink sequent sweater to match. Some old ladies helped me pick out pink stoned heart shaped, surrounded by diamond looking earrings. I had more help getting knee high black boots with rhinestones on them. The whole outfit cost me about $30 Canadian. It may be a little more bling than I would normally wear, but I didn't have to bargain to get the get the real price. The shop owners had seen me on T.V., they had heard my limited language skill, and they still viewed me as one of them.

When It Rains It Pours

A few months ago I shared how excited we all were with the opening of a new ice cream place. After years of going without and good frozen treats we were thrilled. Our joy has been doubled recently - a Dairy Queen opened. Dairy Queen can you believe it????? We don't even have a McDonald's out here yet. They have blizzards, brownie sundaes, fancy frozen coffee drinks, and so much more. It tastes a little different than home, just based on the ingredients available. It is really expensive (for the price of a medium blizzard you could buy dinner at a average restaurant). Oh well, I have only been there once in the month it has been open, but just knowing it is there if I ever want some is half the fun.

Guilt Trips Start Early

Our landlord and his wife came by the other day. The pretense was that she had never seen the place and was curious. The story seemed a little fake considering my roommate has been living there for almost two years. She wasn't home at the time so I let them in. His wife kept commenting on how nice the place was, how big it was. She said it was nicer and bigger than where they were living. At that warning lights started going off in my head. As they were taking their tour I quickly called my roommate to find out how long there was remaining to her lease...and report what was up. Her guess was that the landlord was going to try to raise the rent next time. We still have six months before we have to resign a contract, but around here games and guilt trips start early. I started playing along by pointing out flaws and problems with the place. They countered by commenting on its convenience and what not. They left after 15 minutes or so...but the game is on.

Korean Soap Opera Junkie

Uyghur people love to watch soap operas. They tend to be a lot cleaner, and a lot cheesier than American ones. The plot is always one of tragic or ill fated love that overcomes family oppositions or near death. In the end their love is always stronger because of it.

Sometimes when I am out with some of my old lady friends they will start talking about the characters on their favourite soap as it they are real people. In fact, I once asked what hospital a car accident victim was in so that I could go visit her, only to find out she was a Korean soap opera fictional friend.

The other night I had on the TV and accidentally got hooked into watching one of these unfolding plot lines. It was captivating....before I knew it I was hooked trying to figure out who was whose real son, and why he couldn't be with the the girl he loved. The hour was up quickly and so was my study break....only as soon as that episode ended the next one started. I didn't have to wait to find out what happened next. But hour two bleed into hour three and hour three into hour four. They just kept showing the same soap opera. Finally after five hours of sitting there (a wasted evening) the series ended. The next day when I talked with my local friends I finally felt in the loop. I asked if they normally play the whole thing back to back like that. I was surprised to learn that they had started that series Friday night and had played all thirty hours of it over the weekend. I guess I had only caught the last five, but now I know why some of my friends are so busy over the weekends and why they sometimes cancel our plans.....they are Korean soap opera junkies.

Good Connections

In order for me to be able to appear on the TV Game Show, I had to obtain permission from the City Foreign Affairs Officer. Sadly the TV station didn't realize this until the day before it was to air, which caused us to have to do a lot of running around. In the end, like many things in this country, it all came down to who you knew. One guy's friend, knew a guy who went to school with the Head of the Foreign Affairs Department.

In order to fully appreciate what I saw that day you have to understand that most offices out here look pretty shabby. The floors are normally cement, the white wash on the walls (never real paint) is faded and covered in coal dust. They are ofter small little rooms crowded with three or four desks, each person working on an unrelated task. But the office we were ushered into was nothing like what I had grown to expect. It was almost equal to the size of my whole apartment...the floor wore a rich thick carpeting, one whole wall was lined with windows, another with bookshelves, and the other two looked clean and fresh. There was a whole living room area, with comfy sofas and such, and one large richly decorated desk, that could have sat six, but was really only the work space of this one Head Officers into whose presence we had just been ushered.

With the quick snap of his finger this high ranking official was able to get someone to work on our paper work. The TV station employees went out to make sure they got the stamped permission form that they needed,while this leader invited me to stay and drink tea with him. Talk about a good connection to make in a world that is all about who you know.

On TV

My former teacher called me last week and asked me to do her a favour. I agreed only to find out that she needed a Uyghur language student to appear on a local game show program. I would be interviewed in Uyghur and asked trivia questions. Ugh, I was nervous. I don't mind public appearances and I don't mind speaking Uyghur, but put them together and the whole thing seemed a little over whelming.

There were two other contestants. The topic of the day was language learning. One of the others contestants was a Uyghur guy who was studying the majority language in University. The other was a majority guy, who grew up going to a Kazak school who was now studying Uyghur in University (the two are related languages). Both were able to speak much more fluently than I. The station had helped by feeding us some of the answers....but not all of them. I also had to sing a Uyghur folk song (for those of you who know me well you know I should never sing in public, much less on TV for everyone in our province to watch), and talk about some Uyghur proverbs. My former classmates came and cheered me on from the audience.

I ended up winning a Uyghur/English dictionary for my computer and a fluffy, white, lacy computer cover. Those are small compared to my new found fame. It might have only been local television.....but ever since I have been recognized on the bus and in the bazaar. The other day when I was walking down the street people started to sing the same folk song to me.

Do you want my autograph?

Foreign Face Fame

I am going to be on TV again. This time it is a Uyghur program and they are talking about language learning.....they wanted a foreigner who has studies language to add to the discussion. The whole interview will be in Uyghur and I am supposed to wear my traditional atlas dress. I am a little nervous but it should be fun. I guess it is activities like this that help everyone in town fell like they know me.