Hazards of Culture Shock

 

As often as I've been to China, I am not immune to culture shock, which is defined as "the feeling of disorientation experienced by someone who is suddenly subjected to an unfamiliar culture (dictionary.com). In this state, we're apt to feel helpless and not solve ordinary problems like tracking down luggage efficiently. This is because our normal problem solving skills are all directed toward navigating the host culture.

 

It was not until this morning that I realized I could speak to a United Airlines representative about Joe's lost bag.  I'd been talking to my daughter and family via SKYPE.  It was lovely to hear their voices. Suddenly, I remembered SKYPE could be used to contact any phone number in the world.  Turns out United's lost baggage department runs out of India! (no comment). The official I spoke to told us Joe's luggage arrived at the Weihai airport yesterday. Someone might have called. We are going over to claim it this morning after the service at Weihai's one church.  Let's hope it's actually there. 

Purchases

Joe had to have an emergency wardrobe, so we visited the Lichuan Market a couple of blocks from the campus. They have excellent merchandise, but no one there knows much English. This was an excellent chance to use my Chinese. People understood when I said "男衬衫在哪里？” This is "nan chen shan zai na li?" in Roman letters and means "Where are the men's shirts?"


Finding wrapping paper was another matter.  We are going to a party where we will inevitably be given presents, and we want to reciprocate.  Fortunately, the presents we bought in America were in my luggage, not Joe's, but they were unwrapped.  On overseas trips, it is pointless to wrap presents in advance, since Homeland Security unwraps them when they do baggage checks.  The compound word 'wrapping paper was not covered in my Chinese lessons nor in the Rosetta Stone software. I tried pantomime. The store clerk brought me carbon paper. Fortunately, Joe is good at finding things, he finally located some on a shelf.

Joe in his new shirt.

Tags from the new shirt rest on a sheet of polka dot carbon paper.

Good Morning China

Chinese parks are extremely safe. In the mornings, old people congregate in public parks and exercise. Some do Tai Chi; others work out on the free standing sports equipment. I join them, for I am extremely jet lagged and cannot sleep late.

 Afterwards, I walk on the beach.  I take pictures of people who photograph me in return.  I gather I'm something of a curiosity.

Moving On

No luck with retrieving Joe's luggage.  Airport personnel are sympathetic and give us copies of the reports they write in barely legible English. They promise we'll receive phone calls, but we don't. I'm not sure all the officials we speak to understand us completely. It helps that my Chinese is improving, but I'm far from fluent.  Maybe Joe's suitcase is back in Chicago.  We have to get on with the trip.

At the Hong Kong airport, we meet a bevy of travelers returning home to Taiwan after visiting the PRC.  Direct flights from China to Taiwan are available now.  They seem to be having a wonderful time.  They practice their English on us, and I do the same with my Chinese.  We laugh.  The women share snacks from plastic bags-- a cereal like wheat puffs and some dried fruit flavored with cinnamon. It has a rubbery texture.

Don't move when scanned

When our flight to Chicago was cancelled, United Airlines tried to reroute us via Knoxville, which is less than a two hour drive from our home.  The desk clerk assured us we'd make the alternate flight, though the timing was tight.  Predictably nervous, I flinched while having a body scan, and the Homeland Security officer summoned a female officer to give me a pat down.  That's what they call it, but the procedure was more like a gynecological exam with my clothes on.  The officer was a humorless African American female. Over a head taller than I, she wore hair extensions and bright blue gloves. She offered to do the pat down in private, but I told her to just get it over with. Refusing to rush, she explained what would happen in excruciating detail.  "I will run my hand down your back and then check your buttocks.  I will move my hand down your legs,  and then check your breasts and your crotch."  The degree of detail made me anticipate everything happening and increased my discomfort. 

When I tried to joke about the procedure, she advised me I shouldn't be talking. Never before have I been on such intimate terms with law enforcement. In medical settings,  you are told what's going to happen, but if you prefer get on with things, it's respected.  Here, there was no repect. After the body search, the officer placed her blue gloves under a scanner to check for explosives.  When none were found, she said I was free to go.

Grinning, I thanked her for protecting our country and told her I'd blog about the experience.  She didn't smile.  "Tell 'em not to move when they go through the scanner." 

We missed our flight.

Are we having fun yet?

We're finally in Hong Kong, and the Citygate Hotel, though expensive, is beautiful and close to the airport .  We rebooked our flights to Weihai for a price, and tomorrow we head out for Weihai. If things go smoothly, I'll have a full day of rest beforemy first lecture.

But things have not been going smoothly this trip.  The discounted Chinese airtickets and budget hotel I so cleverly booked online were non-refundable, and we may have to eat the cost.  And in addition to screwing up our flights, United Airlines lost Joe's luggage. They think it may have been left in Chicago.  They're checking, they say.  And since United does not go to Weihai, there will probably be some delays in shipment once they find it.

Along the way, we've talked to some interesting people, including a Carmelite ex-nun, and a Butler University student on his way to an overseas service learning project.

Hope the weather holds.  There's a typhoon warning out.

Best Laid Plans

We should be in Hong Kong. We have made it as far as Chicago. Apparently, a massive computer crash at United Airlines has caused cancellation of many flights.  We were in a hotel overnight at United Airlines expense. They gave us brown paper bags filled with tooth paste, lotion and soap, but wouldn't give back our luggage. They swear up and down that they'll  get us on a flight to Hong Kong later this morning.  I have a hotel reserved in Hong Kong, and I'm working on rescheduling the Chinese flights we will miss. Joe and I are exhausted.

That's the short version. The longer version is a blur of airports, long lines, and other exhausted people. I'll tell you more when I have energy.

Off to Weihai by way of Hong Kong

11:22 PM Sunday June 19th.  Just over 4 hours from now at 3:30 AM tomorrow morning, Griffin is picking us up and transporting us to Tri-Cities airport.  The plane leaves at 5:25 AM.

We have a connecting flight to Charlotte, after which we go to Chicago and on to Hong Kong.  We will arrive Tuesday evening, but the whole thing will feel like one enormously long day.  I've done this before, and I know the drill.

Today was Father's Day. Joe took a rain check on dinner at Sahib's, but with any luck, he'll let me take him someplace nice in Hong Kong.  We make an overnight stop in Hong Kong; then the next day, we fly to Shanghai where we pick up a turboprop for Weihai.  We'll land in Weihai Wednesday evening.

It's a tiring business, especially since the airlines, ever mindful of profits, pack people closely together in a manner reminiscent of the old slave ships.

  Possibly, I'll be able to post from Hong Kong; otherwise, expect to hear from me again sometime midweek.

To blog or not to blog... And what about Facebook?

A good friend suggested that instead of doing a blog about China, I post to Facebook. "I think you'll get more readers that way."  He may have been right, but I did not find the prospect appealing and ultimately rejected it.

I don't Facebook much, though I look at the pictures of grandkids my daughter posts on the network, and I  respond when I'm "friended."  My vision issues make using Facebook uncomfortable, and in my opinion, the word limit placed upon entries forces oversimplification and superficiality.  I don't like texting for much the for the same reason, though I do it at times.  Call me a dinosaur.

But past a certain point, we cannot swim against the tide of  our culture, and for better or worse, social networking sites are part of the way we do things.  So I did consider doing a Facebook page instead of a blog.  The word limit on Facebook was the deciding factor.  I prefer writing essays to captions.  Facebook and blogspot are linked, so my Facebook friends can follow this blog if they want to.

Our plane departs at 5:30 tomorrow morning.  In all likelihood, I will be unable to view either Facebook or this blog when I'm over in China.  Dennis Cope will posting my entries.