All my dishes are gone: bowls, plates, and plastic containers. My most useful frying pan and a small saucepan. Several other convenience items and foods are missing. It’s not surprising that a thief would remove locks, but this thief takes the time to put the locks back!

Until I have a solution, the floor of my small room is littered with cooking equipment. Foods that a mouse would enjoy must remain in the kitchen. I met a neighbour while I was taking things back to my room and he says he’s lost cooking oil, dishes, and other items. Someone here is robbing from all of us. Even if I could cook, I don’t have anything left to eat from.

Cat sleeping with toy mouse (Flickr photo by Artiii, Creative Commons).

I’m afraid that my food will be stolen. My new neighbour is rude and loud… probably a thief too. A mouse is now living in the wall beside my bed. 哎呀！ This is the second time I’ve had this kind of neighbour since I moved to the International House in Halifax.

我有点儿害怕我食物被偷。我新邻居很无礼，很响亮。。。想他也是小偷。一个老鼠现住在床边的墙里。哎呀！从我搬家到哈利法克斯的International House公寓，这是第二次我有这样的邻居。

Update: The building owner arrived with poison today. No one had told him about the mouse, but his timing was perfect. Problem solved? I hope so! Friends with cats are especially invited to visit anytime.

Hanoi crazy night traffic from v!Nc3sl4s on Vimeo.

A train passes through a market in Bangkok, Thailand.

Watch this one through to the end… it’s a pop-up market on a train track in Thailand. Amazing.

(touque tip: Boing Boing)

我最近搬家到了加拿大哈利法克斯，在圣玛丽大学学习商业。在加拿大换大学换得不难，但是不太容易。比如我以前在温哥华是电脑老师。圣大商业学生都学习程电脑课，内容是Access, Word, Excel,等等。我觉得太容易的课。老师说：我必须参加程电脑课，所以没办法。

我星期一，星期二晚上有上课，不可以吃中秋节的特别的菜。我真想在天津我和朋友们2004年一起包饺子，吃饭，喝白酒。这次晚上有数学课。我以后安排教哥哥的小孩儿怎么包。觉得他们太小，但是可以好玩儿。在加拿大可不可以买中国的白酒？我不知道。我从中国只拿一瓶山西的白酒。如果在哈利法克斯要真的中国食品，可以买。我已经买了饺子皮儿，花椒，等等。两次我自己做葱油饼，但是做得不好啊！我不熟练。做炒面比葱油饼更容易，所以常常做。

你中秋节在你家乡吃什么菜？

Happy Mid Autumn Festival everyone!

Saint Mary’s University (圣玛丽大学)

I went to a bank today to exchange money. I wandered into the bank and the big electonic numbers clearly meant I needed to have a number. Where do I get a number? Which set of workers do money exchange? There was one worker who seemed to be some kind of greeter that I wanted to attempt in a sign-language conversation, but she was helping someone else. I stood around like a clueless tourist and started staring at a sign with todays exchange rates until a worker brought me a paper with a number on it and pointed to some seats where I could wait.

Korean banks seem to have a much more open layout than Chinese banks. Chinese banks have giant bulletproof glass to keep you and the staff apart. Canadian banks don’t have the glass, but they do make you stand around at the small counters where you are served. Here I get to sit in a fairly plush chair and show my best smile to make up for the fact I haven’t a clue what to say. As I hand the worker my passport and Chinese currency, she receives it from me by holding her right hand with palm up while placing her left hand on the right arm. I’ve learned a little about these customs from my Korean friends in Tianjin, but this was my first experience without someone guiding me. I can only imagine how rude I’ve been today in very small ways, but I’m sure everyone understands that foreigners don’t necessarily understand these customs. Jeju has a strong tourism economy, so I feel like I can count on an understanding community.

When I finish studying in Nanchang I plan to return to Jeju to study Korean language. I’m starting to see my Chinese language habbits really coming out strong. I’m always saying “hao” (good) in response to things, for example. I bought some kind of shrimp burger from a KFC and I even said to a worker “wo yao” (I want)! In China I had learned the Korean numbers from 1 to 10, but I’ve recently realized that Korea has 2 systems for numbers. One is a purely Korean system while the other is based on the Chinese numbers. Numbers are fun for me because I never know which system to expect, and it’s fair to say the system I understand is pretty slow for me to translate. What I hadn’t counted on was that Korean currency, the Won, uses high numbers. My green tea with pomegranate drink cost KRW$1,000. Maybe it’s nice that I can use the number one with both counting systems, but I didn’t have the forethought to study the words for ‘hundred’ or ‘thousand’.

I’ve ony been on my own for a couple hours, but it’s really a lovely place and I’m having a lot of fun. I took a walk by the ocean just to smell the salt water in the air and enjoy the clear blue sky. Looking toward the centre of the island is Hala Mountain, a volcano which is the major geographical feature of the island and is, of course, responsible for the islands existance.

Zhong Shan Road is dotted with mostly middle-aged ladies trying to grab my attention with cries of “hello” followed by the word for “shoes” in Chinese (rarely English) along with lots of pointing at shoes to be certain I’ve understood their meaning. I’ve yet to meet anyone who expects me to know how to say “你好” (hello), let alone make a sentence, so they tend to smile and laugh easily when I say “不要，谢谢” (no thanks) which I think is a lot more polite than the reception they get from anyone else as they hustle to work the street. They often smile at me like I’m a big fun challenge for them since they’re smiling so nicely at me and working so hard to make it clear that I should be buying shoes from them. The less English they use the more dramatic and exaggerated the hand gestures tend to be, which is not unlike how I felt trying to communicate when I landed in Beijing for the first time. Perhaps that’s why they become momentarily dumbstruck when I point to my own shoes and say with a smile “我有” (I have) until it registers that I’ve given a cheeky reply and can understand them perfectly and the dramatic gestures are wholly unnecessary. These women work very hard every day trying to attract buyers to their little shoe boutiques located in little alleys and streets connected to Zhong Shan Road —spots that shoppers would never find without some encouragement — and they give lots of character to the shopping centre of Nanchang.

On this particular day I wondered for no particular reason into a large (for Nanchang) department store located on the corner of Zhong Shan Road and 8-1 Avenue (中山路在八一大道). I let myself be carried in by the solid stream of shoppers moving as a line through the store and listened to people around me talking about what nationality I might be and how tall I am. When the man behind me made a guess at my height while talking to his wife, I surprised them both by correcting his guess with a smile which opened a small conversation with the very nice couple. Since I had come to explore, I didn’t talk long before I excused myself to run around the store to discover its many departments.

From jewellery to shoes and bags, I moved upstairs finding myself surrounded by womens underwear. Not unlike other stores I’ve been to in China, the escalator to the 3rd floor was located in an obscure location requiring you to wander through isle after isle of lingerie before moving up to the next floor devoted to womens clothing. It’s not until the 4th floor that you start to see anything for men, which means that men have to really travel across the store from one escalator to another just to buy some clothing. I don’t know anything about the shopping habits of Chinese men, but I know many of my friends in Canada like to go inside, make their purchase, and get out quickly, but many stores in China don’t appear to cater to that style of quick shopping.

As I wind my way through the store I can hear the workers — usually young women — talking about me, encouraging their coworkers to say hello to me, calling other workers over to get a look before I’m out of sight, etc. One worker was standing with a group near a corner and, once I’d passed, expressed to her friends that I’d scared her. She just didn’t expect this tall foreigner to appear from around the corner. Somewhere else in the store I stopped to retie my shoelace and caught a group of workers having a very nice conversation about me. Only when I starting laughing along with their discussion did they start to become a bit quieter. One girl was too embarrassed and hid around the corner, but the other three coworkers tried to tell her not to be embarrassed, because I couldn’t possibly understand. Ha ha!

I imagine that the original building wasn’t big enough for the store, so they knocked down the wall that joins the neighbouring building and continued their products on a floor that might be correctly termed the 5th-and-and-a-half floor, reminding me of Being John Malkovich. I’ve seen this solution to lack of space used in several stores in different Chinese cities. What I liked about it was that, on this particular day, the store appeared pretty average from the outside yet, once inside, the store seemed was much larger as I wound my way from escalator to escalator.

The top floor was devoted exclusively to baby products and children’s toys… or so I thought. Hidden among the toys was a sight I still can’t explain or understand: a grocery store. Why would anyone put a grocery store in such an obscure and awkward location? Do they really have enough customers willing to wander around and trek to the top floor to buy food? There were a few customers, but it was practically empty compared to any other grocery stores I’ve seen in Nanchang. I keep imagining that there must be another entrance to this grocery store that I failed to see. Even if customers relied on an elevator, there is no way this store could achieve any economies of scale.

Apparently there is now an Ikea store in Nanchang which is also located in a bizarre location. I’m preparing to leave Nanchang for the winter holiday, but I’ll go looking for it when I return in March. If you know how to find the Ikea, please leave a comment!

Canada Post stamp: Year of the pig

CBC reports that Canada Post (加拿大的邮局) has released it’s latest stamp celebrating the year of the Pig.

I think most Chinese people I’ve met (and foreigners too) are quite surprised when I say how Chinese traditions are woven into Canadian life. A symbol of a Chinese festival being specially acknowledged in this way does not seem like a very politically motivated action in the vein of one-off stamps to honour certain famous figures.

Looming lion (Chinese new year in Vancouver, 2004)

Canada Post, as far as I remember, has been making special Chinese New Year stamps honouring the Chinese zodiac for many years now. This new stamp is simply the latest edition for the coming Chinese new year on February 18^th, 2007. The greatest symbolism for the relationship between China and Canada might be seen in how un-extraordinary things like this are. My experience is certainly biased from my life in Vancouver, but I can remember living in the beautiful small town of Squamish, BC and celebrating the Chinese new year in my primary school. Doesn’t everyone celebrate Chinese new year?

My friend in Dawson Creek, BC recently told me about temperatures of -37°C (with windchill) and a good 5 feet (1.5 meters) of snow. Even the mild rainy city of Vancouver dropped to 20-below for about a week as the city experienced some extreme weather. So it seems funny that Nanchang weather feels so cold to me now as the current temperature reaches lows of 5°C, and highs of 15°C. Five-degrees may not be cold to a Vancouverite, but context is important.

Nanchang buildings have no heating. None. Buildings don’t even have rudimentary insulation. Every inch of every building here is made from all-concrete construction. Windows and doors aren’t sealed in any building I’ve seen in Nanchang. Every place—from classrooms to restaurants—is freezing just as much as if you were outside sitting under the shade of a tall oak tree. Today’s high-temperature of 9°C would be fine to wear a t-shirt inside a Vancouver classroom, but you would never wear just a t-shirt in Nanchang; instead, I’ve been protecting my torso with the following:

1. t-shirt
2. long-underwear shirt
3. sweater
4. fleece jacket
5. windbreaker

I could have never imagined wearing 5-layers of clothing to class under such conditions, but everyone in my class, including the teachers, are wearing several layers of clothes and still complaining.

My house is about the same. The bathroom and kitchen have unsealed vents that lead directly outside. If I close all the doors and stand in the living room, I still feel a slight draft of cold air on my face. My hands get numb studying in my house and my feet are still cold despite wearing 2-pairs of thick socks. I tried to resist, but I finally bought a heater.

My only source of heat in the city of Nanchang

Finally I could sleep easy. The radiator cost me RMB$330 which is 3-times more expensive than other heaters. Cheap heaters have a reputation for making fires, so I chose the more expensive model for safety reasons. With a blanket stuffed into the crack under the door, I keep myself barricaded in the bedroom to eat, study, read, and sleep. The cold was far from eliminated, but at least it was tolerable. Victory was mine! …or so I thought.

The burn mark

After discovering the giant burn mark under the heater, I pushed the damn machine out of my sight and acknowledged that I could die of fire a lot easier than frostbite. The next few days I slept with my sweater and a toque under 2 blankets and considered wearing gloves too. I knew I needed something for warmth or I wouldn’t be able to study, but I couldn’t use the radiator… or could I? I finally remembered I could set the heater on ‘medium’. Now it doesn’t provide much heat, but it’s better than nothing and I can study. The last time I did my laundry I set the radiator on the tile floor of my living room and let it dry 2 pairs of underwear at a time while I bundled myself in blankets, drank something hot, and watched a movie.

Don’t get me wrong here. I’m thankful for everything I have. I’m just surprised by the reality. Before coming to Nanchang I had heard the average low temperature for winter was 0°C. Compared to Vancouver or Tianjin, Nanchang sounds hot, but the reality is so different when you put it in context.