The Grand Tour

We waited for almost two weeks without much contact from our foreign affairs officers, neither Frank nor Joy. We hadn't heard when or our classes would officially start, but we knew school officially started with registration on Sep. 6. (I should point out that the school had stressed we arrive no later than Sep. 3-so we came on Aug. 27 just to be safe). We had no idea what kind of classes to prepare for, if we needed to begin assembling lesson plans, curiculum, or what. This made my teacher of a wife a bit nervous having never experienced such short notice in the US.

We eventually received an email indicating we would have an orientation meeting the tuesday (Sep. 8) following registration. We were picked up in a bus, where we met the rest of our Western colleagues who all lived in our building. The first half of the day was orientation by our Foreign Affairs Office, explaining (often in a painfully formal manner) the rules of our school, expectations, and other useful information. They even had the local chief of police

share some registration laws, as well as scooter and bicycle road rules (I speculate he mainly wanted to practice his English, and had prepared a speech accordingly). The morning concluded with a tour of campus and free lunch, followed by a tour of the campus museum on the 16th floor of the library-elaborting the history of our new school and

how they had contributed to Chinese scientific posterity. The day concluded with a very brief meeting with the actual English department, where we received our class assignments and schedule. And just like that, our day was over and we weren't expected back on the Xiasha campus for almost two more weeks. This is standard operating procedure in China.

The Apartment

Still under the influence of jet lag, we awoke the next morning to our new apartment.

Grocery-barren and gloomy, there wasn't much to say about the small, two bedroom flat. We had actually been given our choice of the available apartments in the building the night before, but according to Chinese standards of choice. We were allowed to investigate the third floor apartment, but then were informed that the phone was broken and some of the appliances need to be replaced. So we went up to the fourth floor to check it out, but Frank and Joy were hesitant to give us our choice of either of the two apartments available on that floor. We were getting discouraged due to the gradually increasing numbers of stairs we were going to have to ascend. Finally, we walked in to the fifth floor apartment Frank had "gotten ready" for us, and agreed (after getting the hint) that this was the best choice for us. They happily accepted our decision and proceeded to show us that they had put new sheets on the bed and some food in the fridge (a package of orange-flavored muffins that tasted pretty good, a carton of milk, and some oranges).

The apartment was supposedly "remodeled" over the summer, but that doesn't seem to have been more than a fresh layer of powder-coat paint on the walls (which left everything covered in what appeared to be chalk dust) and some newer pieces of furniture (which was probably the nicest thing about the place). We were happy that all the appliances looked to be within 2-3 years new, and almost everything worked exceptionally well (aside from the heating element of our water cooler-which we wouldn't need until winter). The most disappointing feature of the entire setup was one heating/air unit (no they don't have central heat and air) in the whole place, but it was situated in the bedroom, and we were provided with a fan, so we engineered a method of circulating air to most of the house. We were definitely happy about the western toilet. An electric water heater supplied hot water to both bathroom and kitchen water supplies--a feature I was lacking in my previous Chinese apartment.

Waking up that morning (circa 4:30 a.m.) we still didn't have internet, nothing was unpacked, and the walls of the apartment were barren--hardly a warm welcome to a new day. Before sadness overtook us, we laced up our shoes and went for a nice walk exploring our surrounding neighborhood with the sunrise. There were older people congregating in a nearby park, practicing tai chi, others were walking their little dogs (most of them looking like little dust mops on leashes), and farmers were bringing their fresh produce into the city on cycles that looked like pickup-tricycles. As the sun broke over the tops of the buildings and traffic began to build, we walked holding hands, excited about the prospects of making a home out of our new, drab little apartment in this funny, and seemingly backward culture.