So then, I start walking out to where I think I will find a taxi, and I walk and I walk, lugging this heavy ass suitcase, and totally struggling and suffering, and I say to my self, "Margit, you've got to choose your battles!" And so, I surrendered it. I left most of my possessions sitting on a sidewalk in China.
I realized at this point, that I needed to get my physical body and my passport to that airport on time, and luckily, I knew I'd left enough time to do that. Beyond my body and my passport, my next two priorities were my computer and my guitar, and the little bit of clothes and shit I had in my backpack. I kept those.
There were no taxis on the street, but there were black taxis. Black taxis illegal taxis. They are basically people who own cars, and they offer you rides, and they are known to have ridiculously high prices, especially at the time of night that it was. Knowing my options I tried to get one, and he was going to charge me 300 yuan. He was not working with me. I tried to bargain. He wouldn't work with me, so I said, "fuck you," to him and I moved on, and kept walking...
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
The aftermath
I think I went a little crazy with those last few posts, though everything of what I said was true, or at the very least the truth as I knew it at the time. I think I totally broke down as I was fleeing the country. The night before the morning I left, I got to bed around midnight, and set my alarm for 2:30 am. I packed up my shit and I left to get to the airport on time.
I walked to the gate of my complex with my suitcase full of my clothes and gifts for my friends and family back home, which I had accumulated, including a wedding gift for my brother and his fiance, and other things that I knew my mom wanted, like those tea bottles with the filters, and a hell of a lot of my stuff too. I had a backpack with my absolute necessities, like some underwear, and my cute little stuffed gorilla, books and magazines, and shit for the plane ride; and I had my guitar, and my passport, and 2000 yuan (almost $300).
I walked lugging this super heavy suitcase to the gate of my apartment complex where I attempted to get the people there to call me a taxi. They didn't get it. I got pissed and moved on. My former boss from my Sunday school job had offered to drive me to the airport if I needed it, when I told her what happened the night before. I took out my phone to call her, and my phone was out of service...
I walked to the gate of my complex with my suitcase full of my clothes and gifts for my friends and family back home, which I had accumulated, including a wedding gift for my brother and his fiance, and other things that I knew my mom wanted, like those tea bottles with the filters, and a hell of a lot of my stuff too. I had a backpack with my absolute necessities, like some underwear, and my cute little stuffed gorilla, books and magazines, and shit for the plane ride; and I had my guitar, and my passport, and 2000 yuan (almost $300).
I walked lugging this super heavy suitcase to the gate of my apartment complex where I attempted to get the people there to call me a taxi. They didn't get it. I got pissed and moved on. My former boss from my Sunday school job had offered to drive me to the airport if I needed it, when I told her what happened the night before. I took out my phone to call her, and my phone was out of service...
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Whatever will be will be
I have a very strong feeling in my heart and in my intuition that my coming to China, and seeing what I have seen, and doing what I have done, was somehow written in the stars for me from my birth. I don't know who or what wrote it. You can call it God, or you can call it whatever you want. If you want it to be many Gods, or Goddesses, or even nothing at all, that's fine too. There is one thing I am certain of, and that is that it is.
Everything I have experienced seemed to hit me at precisely the right moment to teach me precisely the right lesson that I needed to know right then to move forward with my life. I have had a massive spiritual awakening. When I came to China, my world was so small, I could fit it in my hands. I could look at it and understand everything about it, and know exactly what everything was, and exactly what everything did and why. Now my world is so big, I don't even know where its limits lie, or if it even has limits (and I don't believe it does).
I have conquered all my fears here: my fear of loud noises, my fear of crowds, my fear of bees, my fear of dying, my fear of being alone, my fear of being stranded without money, my fear of being hungry, thirsty, tired, my fear of riding the wrong way down a busy street on the back of a motorcycle without a helmet on (a fear I didn't even know that I had until coming here--one of those things that's just thrown in your face as it is happening), my fear of waking at three in the morning to a girl having sex with man in the same room as me (another fear I didn't know I had), my fear of doing what I want, when I want, however I want to do it, without fear or regard to rules or consequences, my fear of others thinking I am crazy. I stopped caring what anyone else will think of me, I stopped always trying to be everything to everyone, and please everyone. And I learned a lot about loyalty, and integrity, and honesty, and true friendship, and what it means to be a part of a family, and what it means to be a part of a life form on a planet...This stranded, desperate planet.
I am so fucking deprogrammed from all the brainwashing I have ever been subjected to through schools, and media, and parents and teachers, and I realize that none of this really matters. I have learned that life is absolutely meaningless, and the only thing that can give a human life any meaning is to do absolutely, positively meaningful things.
Now, I don't know what the future holds for me exactly. On Thursday, 11/11/2010, at 5 or 6 in the morning, my ass will arrive in Chicago. I don't know anything about what's going to happen then. I cannot guarantee that all my parts will arrive together or if I will even be alive. There are some things I should make clear to the world before I make this move, and I know what the potential consequences are and I must do this anyway.
I am carrying a potentially deadly pandemic of the Chinese flu. And I know it was the CDC's mission to prevent this pandemic, and so far they have succeeded, and by publishing this fact to the internet, I am giving the world a choice in the matter as whether they are ready and willing to face this shit or not. I will tell you one thing: it is inevitable. I have told you exactly what it will do to you if you catch it, and it will not kill you if you want to live, but it will kill you if you want to die. It will get inside you, and take you down to knocking on deaths door, and give you a very beautiful experience, and then give you a choice as to whether you want to live or die, and you will make your decision, and what will be will be. And, in my case, the Chinese flu fucked a lot harder with my head than it did with my body, and it will probably do the same to you if you get it.
And if the worst of what I envision right now comes to fruition, and becomes a reality, and you need some human form to blame for all this, look to Darren, of Expertise Education Company Limited, in Beijing China, because Darren lied.
But also realize, that I don't know what will happen for sure. I am a human, and I am a writer, and I tend to weave great and complicated scenarios in my head. And whether this great and complicated scenario becomes real for the world, is not up to me, it is up to you, the other humans. And if someone wants to stop this badly enough, they can. We do have choices, you know. Now go out and do something meaningful. Now.
Everything I have experienced seemed to hit me at precisely the right moment to teach me precisely the right lesson that I needed to know right then to move forward with my life. I have had a massive spiritual awakening. When I came to China, my world was so small, I could fit it in my hands. I could look at it and understand everything about it, and know exactly what everything was, and exactly what everything did and why. Now my world is so big, I don't even know where its limits lie, or if it even has limits (and I don't believe it does).
I have conquered all my fears here: my fear of loud noises, my fear of crowds, my fear of bees, my fear of dying, my fear of being alone, my fear of being stranded without money, my fear of being hungry, thirsty, tired, my fear of riding the wrong way down a busy street on the back of a motorcycle without a helmet on (a fear I didn't even know that I had until coming here--one of those things that's just thrown in your face as it is happening), my fear of waking at three in the morning to a girl having sex with man in the same room as me (another fear I didn't know I had), my fear of doing what I want, when I want, however I want to do it, without fear or regard to rules or consequences, my fear of others thinking I am crazy. I stopped caring what anyone else will think of me, I stopped always trying to be everything to everyone, and please everyone. And I learned a lot about loyalty, and integrity, and honesty, and true friendship, and what it means to be a part of a family, and what it means to be a part of a life form on a planet...This stranded, desperate planet.
I am so fucking deprogrammed from all the brainwashing I have ever been subjected to through schools, and media, and parents and teachers, and I realize that none of this really matters. I have learned that life is absolutely meaningless, and the only thing that can give a human life any meaning is to do absolutely, positively meaningful things.
Now, I don't know what the future holds for me exactly. On Thursday, 11/11/2010, at 5 or 6 in the morning, my ass will arrive in Chicago. I don't know anything about what's going to happen then. I cannot guarantee that all my parts will arrive together or if I will even be alive. There are some things I should make clear to the world before I make this move, and I know what the potential consequences are and I must do this anyway.
I am carrying a potentially deadly pandemic of the Chinese flu. And I know it was the CDC's mission to prevent this pandemic, and so far they have succeeded, and by publishing this fact to the internet, I am giving the world a choice in the matter as whether they are ready and willing to face this shit or not. I will tell you one thing: it is inevitable. I have told you exactly what it will do to you if you catch it, and it will not kill you if you want to live, but it will kill you if you want to die. It will get inside you, and take you down to knocking on deaths door, and give you a very beautiful experience, and then give you a choice as to whether you want to live or die, and you will make your decision, and what will be will be. And, in my case, the Chinese flu fucked a lot harder with my head than it did with my body, and it will probably do the same to you if you get it.
And if the worst of what I envision right now comes to fruition, and becomes a reality, and you need some human form to blame for all this, look to Darren, of Expertise Education Company Limited, in Beijing China, because Darren lied.
But also realize, that I don't know what will happen for sure. I am a human, and I am a writer, and I tend to weave great and complicated scenarios in my head. And whether this great and complicated scenario becomes real for the world, is not up to me, it is up to you, the other humans. And if someone wants to stop this badly enough, they can. We do have choices, you know. Now go out and do something meaningful. Now.
This is what I know happened
Nobody will tell you anything here, so this is what I have figured out from the clues that I have put together and now everything adds up:
On Monday morning, I called my assistant Darren and told him I was sick. He said to come in anyway, and I told him that technically I could come in but then I would just be sick at school and unable to do my job.
In order to satisfy the school, Darren told the school I would be there. When I never showed up, the school called Jolin, 0ne of the higher-ups within the company, and said the teacher never came. Then, when Jolin asked Darren if Margit called in, in order to cover his own ass, he lied and said Margit never called in.
One thing led to the next and when Darren showed up at my door out of no where to take me to a restaurant to tell me that the company decided to terminate my contract, you could see it in his twitchy face that he knew he'd fucked up. And everything was highly suspicious.
In my contract, it said that I must call in if I'm sick, and I am allowed up to thirty days sick leave before they have the grounds to fire me for being sick. If I don't show up at all and don't call in, the company has grounds to terminate the contract after TWO days.
How many days did I miss? 2. And Darren lied. It makes perfect sense to me. This is not some corrupt company, it is one corrupt liar of a man named Darren!
And when Darren told me that they terminated the contract, and I said, "well you have to pay me my breach penalty right?" and he got this look of shock on his face, I knew something was up.
He knows what he did, and he feels guilty as fuck for doing it because the school really did like me, and he's scared, because now he knows that his ass is on the line.
And now, my dad has helped me get my ass out of here, when I am sick, and have almost no money, and have almost no options, and so beyond desperate and helpless in this foreign fucking country, and so far beyond frustration, and so far beyond ting bu fucking dong, that I have reached absolute enlightenment, but still, for Darren, and the company, to allow this to happen to me is so far beyond grounds for a lawsuit, it would be retarded not to pursue it.
I will go tomorrow, and see if they can give me some sort of a settlement so that I will not sue, and then maybe I will be able to pay my dad back the money I owe him, for getting me here, and now getting me out of here. We'll see.
"The parents complained" my ass!
On Monday morning, I called my assistant Darren and told him I was sick. He said to come in anyway, and I told him that technically I could come in but then I would just be sick at school and unable to do my job.
In order to satisfy the school, Darren told the school I would be there. When I never showed up, the school called Jolin, 0ne of the higher-ups within the company, and said the teacher never came. Then, when Jolin asked Darren if Margit called in, in order to cover his own ass, he lied and said Margit never called in.
One thing led to the next and when Darren showed up at my door out of no where to take me to a restaurant to tell me that the company decided to terminate my contract, you could see it in his twitchy face that he knew he'd fucked up. And everything was highly suspicious.
In my contract, it said that I must call in if I'm sick, and I am allowed up to thirty days sick leave before they have the grounds to fire me for being sick. If I don't show up at all and don't call in, the company has grounds to terminate the contract after TWO days.
How many days did I miss? 2. And Darren lied. It makes perfect sense to me. This is not some corrupt company, it is one corrupt liar of a man named Darren!
And when Darren told me that they terminated the contract, and I said, "well you have to pay me my breach penalty right?" and he got this look of shock on his face, I knew something was up.
He knows what he did, and he feels guilty as fuck for doing it because the school really did like me, and he's scared, because now he knows that his ass is on the line.
And now, my dad has helped me get my ass out of here, when I am sick, and have almost no money, and have almost no options, and so beyond desperate and helpless in this foreign fucking country, and so far beyond frustration, and so far beyond ting bu fucking dong, that I have reached absolute enlightenment, but still, for Darren, and the company, to allow this to happen to me is so far beyond grounds for a lawsuit, it would be retarded not to pursue it.
I will go tomorrow, and see if they can give me some sort of a settlement so that I will not sue, and then maybe I will be able to pay my dad back the money I owe him, for getting me here, and now getting me out of here. We'll see.
"The parents complained" my ass!
This is what I believe actually happened as to why they fired me
Between when I was hired by this company and now, there was a policy change. Before, anyone with a collage degree and who was a native English speaker could get a work visa applicable to the work I do. Now, a person must be out of college and must have gotten that degree over two years ago in order to do the work that I do. While it is possible to obtain a work visa inside of my current circumstances, it is much more expensive, and not worth the price of keeping me to the company. If I had graduated collage 2 or more years ago, a work visa would cost about 400 yuan, and with my current circumstances, it would cost around 10,000 yuan, obviously a huge difference in price, and not worth it to the company. Of course, now that I am demanding my breach penalty, they may change their mind, though I hope that they will pay me to just to get me off their back and/or prevent me from sicking my lawyer on them.
Of course, they would never admit to this, but I hear rumors. Not all of these rumors are true. In fact, what I just said may not be true at all, but it seems to be the most plausible reality and reason for all the recent deportations, and it seems like a believable reason to fire me. And there have been many deportations for a huge variety of reasons. I honestly think there are going to be some massive changes in this country (and the world, for that matter) soon.
The other reason I think they may have fired me was that I just started at this school two weeks ago, and now I have asked for three sick days. They may not have realized exactly how sick I was from the time I got food poisoning from the century eggs, and from this Chinese flu that I have right now. (They may assume, that myself, like their last teacher, calls in sick all the time because I am hungover, which, as anyone who knows me could attest to, is not at all like me.) And these two incidents happening so close together was kind of just an accident, but when you live in a foreign country, getting sick from something is an inevitability. And when you teach little kids, getting sick is also an inevitability. My poor housemate, he happened to get food poisoning and the Chinese flu both at the same time. I honestly do not understand how he managed to survive that!
But from the schools perspective, I was a new teacher in a ritzy school, with no masters degrees and only two months of experience (compared with their other teacher who has two masters degrees and three years experience), so I guess I had a lot to prove to them if I wanted them to keep me. And during those days that I was a substitute, I worked my ass off to prove I was capable, and I continued to during these past two weeks, and I know the kids were learning from me, and they were learning well. But when the new teacher calls in sick three days out of those two weeks, and...now wait a minute...hold on just a minute here...I think somethings coming in...what's that?...what are the parents going to say to that...?
Ah, okay. I guess the parents may have actually complained. NEVER MIND! I guess the dude was probably telling the truth. I just wish he would have just told me the damn reason why. But then, why won't they find me another school? I honestly can't say. I think they assumed that because now I've been through two schools, that they will be unable to find me another, and they simply don't have the patience for that, and they think that, with the cost of a work visa now, and everything else going on, it's cheaper and easier just to get rid of me than to continue hearing complaints about me. Well, in that case, it's not my problem, it's theirs for not having the patience to work with me.
Now, I have not actually bought the ticket home yet, but if I choose to stay, I will have to pay 1,600 yuan to renew my visa, and that's not something I am willing to do, with my limited cash, in this smog filled, shit hole of a country. My visa expires Friday and it's Tuesday now. There is a lot that I am going to miss, especially my Hebrew school job, and more than anything, the kids, but oh well. I can't even begin to explain all that I have learned here. I will tell you more in future posts but what I can say is that what I have learned here in three months would have taken me over 1,000 years to learn if all I did was sit and read books about it. And so I'm very glad I came here and now I'm very glad I'm leaving.
Of course, they would never admit to this, but I hear rumors. Not all of these rumors are true. In fact, what I just said may not be true at all, but it seems to be the most plausible reality and reason for all the recent deportations, and it seems like a believable reason to fire me. And there have been many deportations for a huge variety of reasons. I honestly think there are going to be some massive changes in this country (and the world, for that matter) soon.
The other reason I think they may have fired me was that I just started at this school two weeks ago, and now I have asked for three sick days. They may not have realized exactly how sick I was from the time I got food poisoning from the century eggs, and from this Chinese flu that I have right now. (They may assume, that myself, like their last teacher, calls in sick all the time because I am hungover, which, as anyone who knows me could attest to, is not at all like me.) And these two incidents happening so close together was kind of just an accident, but when you live in a foreign country, getting sick from something is an inevitability. And when you teach little kids, getting sick is also an inevitability. My poor housemate, he happened to get food poisoning and the Chinese flu both at the same time. I honestly do not understand how he managed to survive that!
But from the schools perspective, I was a new teacher in a ritzy school, with no masters degrees and only two months of experience (compared with their other teacher who has two masters degrees and three years experience), so I guess I had a lot to prove to them if I wanted them to keep me. And during those days that I was a substitute, I worked my ass off to prove I was capable, and I continued to during these past two weeks, and I know the kids were learning from me, and they were learning well. But when the new teacher calls in sick three days out of those two weeks, and...now wait a minute...hold on just a minute here...I think somethings coming in...what's that?...what are the parents going to say to that...?
Ah, okay. I guess the parents may have actually complained. NEVER MIND! I guess the dude was probably telling the truth. I just wish he would have just told me the damn reason why. But then, why won't they find me another school? I honestly can't say. I think they assumed that because now I've been through two schools, that they will be unable to find me another, and they simply don't have the patience for that, and they think that, with the cost of a work visa now, and everything else going on, it's cheaper and easier just to get rid of me than to continue hearing complaints about me. Well, in that case, it's not my problem, it's theirs for not having the patience to work with me.
Now, I have not actually bought the ticket home yet, but if I choose to stay, I will have to pay 1,600 yuan to renew my visa, and that's not something I am willing to do, with my limited cash, in this smog filled, shit hole of a country. My visa expires Friday and it's Tuesday now. There is a lot that I am going to miss, especially my Hebrew school job, and more than anything, the kids, but oh well. I can't even begin to explain all that I have learned here. I will tell you more in future posts but what I can say is that what I have learned here in three months would have taken me over 1,000 years to learn if all I did was sit and read books about it. And so I'm very glad I came here and now I'm very glad I'm leaving.
Monday, November 8, 2010
I've done China, China's done me, and China and I are done with each other
So, as you can assume from the title, I'm coming home. Yes, I know I said I'd be here a year, yes I know I said I signed a contract. For reasons which nobody will tell me, the company has decided to terminate my contract. I don't know why for certain. They have this excuse they always tell you that is an outright lie and I know it: "the parents complained." Of course this isn't true, it's just the bullshit they say to get you off their back. They lie a lot, but in Chinese culture, lying is not wrong, it is a face protecting strategy. If they say the parents complained, then they don't specify any further, they won't tell you specific complaints, they won't tell you exactly what you did wrong, than not only is it a lie, but there no way for you to know what you did wrong, or how you can change to make the problem better. It's a real lose-lose situation for the employees and this company, and we all believe it's going to be their downfall, and I'm glad that we are separating. Don't get me wrong though, I'm not going out without a fight. I'm going to get my breach penalty, and my paycheck for this month, and my TEFL certificate, no matter how hard I have to fight for them. I may need to go down to the office right now. In fact I should, to get those things. Let me call the fucker who told me this and see if he got the shit from the accountant.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The Chinese Flu
The Chinese flu is nothing like the American flu. That's a very good place to start with describing it, because that is a very good place to start in describing anything that exists in America for which there is a variation of the same thing in China. Basically, it's just like the flu, but in Chinese form. Picture the American flu in your head and make it Chinese, with slanty little eyes and rice farmer hats and whatever, and there you have it.
The bugs that get inside of you, they're like little microscopic kung-fu masters, totally Trojan-Horse-like in their approach. They enter under cover of darkness, completely invisible, completely undetectable, and they bide their time and they wait, and they build up their numbers, and those numbers get so high by the time your immune system get's word of them, you might as well call it quits before you even begin.
In comparison, they make the American flu look really stupid, lazy, and disorganized. Go figure. I mean, you can see the American flu coming at you weeks before it actually hits you, and when it takes that first blow, it's kind of like a sissy slap. And then it keeps sissy slapping you for a long-ass while, until it gets tired or bored or hungry, or frustrated that you won't die, or just doesn't feel like it anymore, and then it gives up and goes home.
But, before the Chinese flu hit's you, you feel great! Everything is fine and dandy, with pretty rainbows and happy sunshine. And then, for some reason, and totally out of nowhere...you start to feel a little bit sleepy, so you go lie down to take a little nap. And when you wake from your little nap a few hours later, you've got these waves of searing agony so intensely penetrating every molecule of every cell of every fiber of your being, you have to pause to ask yourself, "whoa...have I died and gone to hell?!" And every single muscle and bone and joint in your body is in such unbearable pain, that you might as well be being beaten up from the inside, and effectively, that's exactly what it's doing to you. It kicks you and beats you and throws you all around like a god damn rag doll, with all of its fancy martial-artsy moves.
So you try to sit up, maybe get yourself a glass of water, maybe take a piss, and your head is so dizzy, and your headache is so intense, that you just kind of plop right back down for a while and wait until you get really, really thirsty, and you really, really need to take a piss, before trying that move again. And as these waves of attacks start hitting you, the pain gives way to intense paranoia and confusion because it's fucking with your head now. You look around and shit is changing colors, and things are moving that are not supposed to be moving, and your visual field is really distorted, and it all kind of looks just like a drug trip. Then, later, the real fun begins...
So, yeah, you know you're dying at this point, so you decide to try to relate to another human being about it, and you will say something, and they will say something, and you will loose your train of thought, and ask, "what...what...what," not because you're deaf and can't hear or that you don't understand the words (or maybe you're a little of that, too), but you keep forgetting the meaning of the thing before the last thing that you just heard, and you keep forgetting what you are trying to say, and you kind of loose touch with everything going on around you. And you have to close your eyes, and think really fucking hard, just to form a god damn sentence. And that's if, and only if, your own voice doesn't give out first. And it does.
So then, you know you're probably dying, and you kind of just start to accept that. And you kind of just fade into it, and the pain doesn't really hurt as much anymore. You kind of feel all floaty, and you drift off and fall asleep. Then you wake up again, maybe 13 or so hours later, and you realize you're not dead yet, but you know that you're close. And you start to contemplate your own existence like dying people do, and imagine what the world would be like if you were dead, and what death is going to be like, and it all smells a lot like roses.
And then, you have the inevitable vision of your dad getting a random phone call from someone in China, because you know he's the one you put on your contract as your emergency contact. And when that vision clicks in, of your parents getting that phone call, and their reaction to that reality that seems so pretty and peaceful to you right then, all reality starts flooding back. So you do your damndest to get over your miserable self, because that reality is not so pretty anymore. So you grab onto the side of your bed. And you put all your energy into it and you hurl your ass into a sitting position. And...oh my god...at this point...your head feels just like a hot air balloon that is made out of concrete. It keeps expanding and trying to float away, but then it's too top heavy or whatever and it plops over, and it repeats this shit for a while, but you do what you have to do at this point to get your sorry ass to a hospital because you don't like that reality you just envisioned.
So, whatever. You call that dude from your agency, and insist that he help you go to the hospital. And he comes over, and you get your ass together and dress yourself like a big girl, and you walk, YES, WALK, to the hospital. Good. Fucking. Grief. But you do it. And as you're walking, everything is loud and bright and penetrating, and the fucker is trying to talk to you, and you've lost your voice a long time ago, so what's the point in even trying to talk back? So basically you just watch where he is walking and you follow.
And you get to the Chinese hospital and you are in all this pain, and you can't keep your head up, or focus your eyeballs, and he tells them about your headache, and shit, and they've seen this before, and of course they know what's going on. It's an everyday thing to them. But, as you feel like you are dying, they don't seem to care very much, because to them, this is not that big of a deal.
I will digress at this point to tell you about the Chinese hospital. Just like the Chinese version of the flu, the Chinese version of a hospital is nothing like the American version of a hospital. When you go to a hospital in America, you wait in a room with a bunch of other people for about eight hours. Then you go to a private bed with a curtain around it, like it's your own little room, and you hang out there for about five hours. You meet with nurses and doctors who come to you, and who all speak the same language as you, and you tell them what's wrong, and you get some drugs or whatever, and you leave. Then a few weeks later, if you don't have insurance, a bill arrives in the amount of several thousand dollars, and there are many and varied ways to handle that and get around paying it if you so choose, but that part is an absolute nightmare. In fact, the whole thing is an absolute nightmare, except for the private room. And while the Chinese hospital experience was far from pleasurable, especially when factoring in the condition I was in, it was, by far, less of a nightmare than an American hospital, all things considered.
In my case, since the agent did most of the talking, my experience was not the same experience that a Chinese person would have, and I may have been given proprietary treatment because I am a foreigner. But, basically, for a foreigner, you go in, and you pay the equivalent of $.75 for a consultation with a nurse. Then you pay for each service you receive before you receive it. It's all very cheap, and if you're Chinese, get this...it's free. But still, the whole thing cost me the equivalent of about $25. And as far as time, it took around two hours.
So then, they take your temperature, and while I don't know what mine was, I'm sure it was screaming something very loudly in Celsius. Then, they send you to a different room, and you stand in line to have your throat looked at and your heart listened to. The nurse looked at my throat, there was some dialogue exchanged between the agent and the nurse, and then the agent turns to me and tells me the obvious: "There's something wrong with your throat." Oh, wow! Really??
Now, I don't know if it was because I was white, or if it was because I was super, extra, pale-white, but a lot of people were staring at me in that hospital. And I know they have no word for privacy here, and the concept is totally foreign, but as that woman was prodding me with that stethoscope and this girl less then six inches behind me in line, and a bunch of other people were staring at me, and kind of moving in to get a closer look at the foreigner, I totally felt like I was being violated. So I turn to my agent, and whisper as loudly as I could, "can you please tell them to stop staring at me!" I think my body language spoke louder than my words, because the whole hoard of them immediately backed away. It might have been my breath for all I know, there's no way to tell for sure.
Then we went for a blood draw, which probably said some more obvious shit about my white blood cell count, and then, the goodies. We got some drugs. I got some throat spray, and some pills, and some tea. And two of the three drugs had a tiny bit of English on their packages, but one did not have any. I told my agent that I need all the instructions to be translated and written down in English. This was, apparently, way too big of a request to him. This man's English is not bad for a Chinese guy, but translating the instructions inside of the medication packages was way beyond him.
For the pills, First he said, "take two, twice a day," So I started with them, because they looked like real medicine, and I swallowed them. Then he turned around and said, "no wait, it says take one every six hours." Well I'd already taken them, so whatever. He said I'd be fine. I don't think I could get much worse than I was, so he was probably right. It was sort of a choice between being fine and being dead at that point. So I got some mixed messages for instructions and then he left.
I went online and looked up the English words that were on the other two packages. The tea, apparently is useful for treating neurological problems. Well, I can live with that, especially considering that I suspect I had some degree of meningitis from the delirium and visual hallucinations, but who knows. And the throat spray, well, it's throat spray, and while it tastes like medicine, I think it works like medicine, and fuck the instructions, I just take it as needed.
So now, the medicine has kicked in a bit. I still feel a bad headache, but not so much like I am dying, and I'm going to take them all again soon and go to bed. I hope I have it in me to go to work tomorrow, and from what I've heard from others about the Chinese flu, once it takes you down to knocking on deaths door, it lets up pretty quickly. It's all martial artsy, so maybe it just does what it does in self defense.
The bugs that get inside of you, they're like little microscopic kung-fu masters, totally Trojan-Horse-like in their approach. They enter under cover of darkness, completely invisible, completely undetectable, and they bide their time and they wait, and they build up their numbers, and those numbers get so high by the time your immune system get's word of them, you might as well call it quits before you even begin.
In comparison, they make the American flu look really stupid, lazy, and disorganized. Go figure. I mean, you can see the American flu coming at you weeks before it actually hits you, and when it takes that first blow, it's kind of like a sissy slap. And then it keeps sissy slapping you for a long-ass while, until it gets tired or bored or hungry, or frustrated that you won't die, or just doesn't feel like it anymore, and then it gives up and goes home.
But, before the Chinese flu hit's you, you feel great! Everything is fine and dandy, with pretty rainbows and happy sunshine. And then, for some reason, and totally out of nowhere...you start to feel a little bit sleepy, so you go lie down to take a little nap. And when you wake from your little nap a few hours later, you've got these waves of searing agony so intensely penetrating every molecule of every cell of every fiber of your being, you have to pause to ask yourself, "whoa...have I died and gone to hell?!" And every single muscle and bone and joint in your body is in such unbearable pain, that you might as well be being beaten up from the inside, and effectively, that's exactly what it's doing to you. It kicks you and beats you and throws you all around like a god damn rag doll, with all of its fancy martial-artsy moves.
So you try to sit up, maybe get yourself a glass of water, maybe take a piss, and your head is so dizzy, and your headache is so intense, that you just kind of plop right back down for a while and wait until you get really, really thirsty, and you really, really need to take a piss, before trying that move again. And as these waves of attacks start hitting you, the pain gives way to intense paranoia and confusion because it's fucking with your head now. You look around and shit is changing colors, and things are moving that are not supposed to be moving, and your visual field is really distorted, and it all kind of looks just like a drug trip. Then, later, the real fun begins...
So, yeah, you know you're dying at this point, so you decide to try to relate to another human being about it, and you will say something, and they will say something, and you will loose your train of thought, and ask, "what...what...what," not because you're deaf and can't hear or that you don't understand the words (or maybe you're a little of that, too), but you keep forgetting the meaning of the thing before the last thing that you just heard, and you keep forgetting what you are trying to say, and you kind of loose touch with everything going on around you. And you have to close your eyes, and think really fucking hard, just to form a god damn sentence. And that's if, and only if, your own voice doesn't give out first. And it does.
So then, you know you're probably dying, and you kind of just start to accept that. And you kind of just fade into it, and the pain doesn't really hurt as much anymore. You kind of feel all floaty, and you drift off and fall asleep. Then you wake up again, maybe 13 or so hours later, and you realize you're not dead yet, but you know that you're close. And you start to contemplate your own existence like dying people do, and imagine what the world would be like if you were dead, and what death is going to be like, and it all smells a lot like roses.
And then, you have the inevitable vision of your dad getting a random phone call from someone in China, because you know he's the one you put on your contract as your emergency contact. And when that vision clicks in, of your parents getting that phone call, and their reaction to that reality that seems so pretty and peaceful to you right then, all reality starts flooding back. So you do your damndest to get over your miserable self, because that reality is not so pretty anymore. So you grab onto the side of your bed. And you put all your energy into it and you hurl your ass into a sitting position. And...oh my god...at this point...your head feels just like a hot air balloon that is made out of concrete. It keeps expanding and trying to float away, but then it's too top heavy or whatever and it plops over, and it repeats this shit for a while, but you do what you have to do at this point to get your sorry ass to a hospital because you don't like that reality you just envisioned.
So, whatever. You call that dude from your agency, and insist that he help you go to the hospital. And he comes over, and you get your ass together and dress yourself like a big girl, and you walk, YES, WALK, to the hospital. Good. Fucking. Grief. But you do it. And as you're walking, everything is loud and bright and penetrating, and the fucker is trying to talk to you, and you've lost your voice a long time ago, so what's the point in even trying to talk back? So basically you just watch where he is walking and you follow.
And you get to the Chinese hospital and you are in all this pain, and you can't keep your head up, or focus your eyeballs, and he tells them about your headache, and shit, and they've seen this before, and of course they know what's going on. It's an everyday thing to them. But, as you feel like you are dying, they don't seem to care very much, because to them, this is not that big of a deal.
I will digress at this point to tell you about the Chinese hospital. Just like the Chinese version of the flu, the Chinese version of a hospital is nothing like the American version of a hospital. When you go to a hospital in America, you wait in a room with a bunch of other people for about eight hours. Then you go to a private bed with a curtain around it, like it's your own little room, and you hang out there for about five hours. You meet with nurses and doctors who come to you, and who all speak the same language as you, and you tell them what's wrong, and you get some drugs or whatever, and you leave. Then a few weeks later, if you don't have insurance, a bill arrives in the amount of several thousand dollars, and there are many and varied ways to handle that and get around paying it if you so choose, but that part is an absolute nightmare. In fact, the whole thing is an absolute nightmare, except for the private room. And while the Chinese hospital experience was far from pleasurable, especially when factoring in the condition I was in, it was, by far, less of a nightmare than an American hospital, all things considered.
In my case, since the agent did most of the talking, my experience was not the same experience that a Chinese person would have, and I may have been given proprietary treatment because I am a foreigner. But, basically, for a foreigner, you go in, and you pay the equivalent of $.75 for a consultation with a nurse. Then you pay for each service you receive before you receive it. It's all very cheap, and if you're Chinese, get this...it's free. But still, the whole thing cost me the equivalent of about $25. And as far as time, it took around two hours.
So then, they take your temperature, and while I don't know what mine was, I'm sure it was screaming something very loudly in Celsius. Then, they send you to a different room, and you stand in line to have your throat looked at and your heart listened to. The nurse looked at my throat, there was some dialogue exchanged between the agent and the nurse, and then the agent turns to me and tells me the obvious: "There's something wrong with your throat." Oh, wow! Really??
Now, I don't know if it was because I was white, or if it was because I was super, extra, pale-white, but a lot of people were staring at me in that hospital. And I know they have no word for privacy here, and the concept is totally foreign, but as that woman was prodding me with that stethoscope and this girl less then six inches behind me in line, and a bunch of other people were staring at me, and kind of moving in to get a closer look at the foreigner, I totally felt like I was being violated. So I turn to my agent, and whisper as loudly as I could, "can you please tell them to stop staring at me!" I think my body language spoke louder than my words, because the whole hoard of them immediately backed away. It might have been my breath for all I know, there's no way to tell for sure.
Then we went for a blood draw, which probably said some more obvious shit about my white blood cell count, and then, the goodies. We got some drugs. I got some throat spray, and some pills, and some tea. And two of the three drugs had a tiny bit of English on their packages, but one did not have any. I told my agent that I need all the instructions to be translated and written down in English. This was, apparently, way too big of a request to him. This man's English is not bad for a Chinese guy, but translating the instructions inside of the medication packages was way beyond him.
For the pills, First he said, "take two, twice a day," So I started with them, because they looked like real medicine, and I swallowed them. Then he turned around and said, "no wait, it says take one every six hours." Well I'd already taken them, so whatever. He said I'd be fine. I don't think I could get much worse than I was, so he was probably right. It was sort of a choice between being fine and being dead at that point. So I got some mixed messages for instructions and then he left.
I went online and looked up the English words that were on the other two packages. The tea, apparently is useful for treating neurological problems. Well, I can live with that, especially considering that I suspect I had some degree of meningitis from the delirium and visual hallucinations, but who knows. And the throat spray, well, it's throat spray, and while it tastes like medicine, I think it works like medicine, and fuck the instructions, I just take it as needed.
So now, the medicine has kicked in a bit. I still feel a bad headache, but not so much like I am dying, and I'm going to take them all again soon and go to bed. I hope I have it in me to go to work tomorrow, and from what I've heard from others about the Chinese flu, once it takes you down to knocking on deaths door, it lets up pretty quickly. It's all martial artsy, so maybe it just does what it does in self defense.
Friday, November 5, 2010
A rant about the food
I'm finally sick of the food here. It's taken me a while, but it happened. To start with, the Chinese food in America is a joke compared to what they actually eat in China. Last night, I ate what was probably the most treif part of the most treif animal on Earth: a pig's hoof. I thought I was ordering duck. That's what it looked like in the picture. Don't ask me why; I'll explain later if you ask me, but it doesn't matter. It was very sticky, and fatty, with very little meat. I guess the flavor wasn't bad. In fact, it was better than a lot of the food here in China. There were metatarsal bones (larger and fewer than a dog's), and some smaller tarsals, with lots of cartilage surrounding them, and claw-like, hoof-like hoof parts. That's when I knew! ugh! Still, I had to try it. I promised myself I'd try anything when I came here. But honestly, the pigs hoof was the first food I have had here that I could so severely not get over the thought of eating that I couldn't just enjoy it for what it was. That, in and of itself, was a sad moment, because I have always thought of myself as a person who can eat and enjoy literally anything they eat.
Last week, Wonder and I went out for dinner, and he told me that I just must try the century eggs. The smell was something to get over, but the taste and texture was amazing. I thought they were delicious. I must have had about four or five slices. We had other dishes too, which included pigs' kidneys, and sheaps' liver, both cooked with vegetables in an unbearably spicy sauce. The sheep's liver was good and reminded me of haggis, though I've only tried the canned variety so far. The pig's kidneys were...well...pig's kidneys...the parts of a pig that process it's urine. There's not much more I can tell you about them beyond that. They totally were what they were.
So, the next day, I wanted more century eggs, so I went back and ordered a plateful and ate the whole thing and nothing else with it for dinner. During the night I woke up, and was ill, but then I went back to sleep. The next morning I got up and was still ill, but I went to school anyway. Then after my second class I felt so bad that I went home. That evening, when I shat them out, they were completely unchanged from the way they were when I had swallowed them!
I think that during the fermentation process, whatever it is they do to them with the lye and whatever, it kills everything, including the enzymes that break them down. I don't think there was anything really wrong with them. I think the problem was that I ate them alone. I don't want to dissuade anyone from trying them. They are, in fact, a delicacy. Just be sure to eat other stuff with them.
I, personally, probably will not be able to eat them again. I had the same experience with kumquats. When I first had kumquats, I was like, "wow, this is different. I want more!" So I bought two packs of them and ate them all in one go. What I believe happened was the acid from the kumquats was so strong, that it, combined with my stomach acid wore away the mucosal lining of my stomach, which allowed some bacteria to enter and cause an infection. I had gastritis for over a week from that, and it was so painful, I have not been able to eat a kumquat since. I know my greatest sin is my gluttony and I pay for it over and over again. Now, all I want is a god damn steak or a hamburger, and some potatoes in any non-Chinese form. I feel very ashamed now. As I once read in another person's blog about China, "you've done China, when China's done you." And I've been had.
Last week, Wonder and I went out for dinner, and he told me that I just must try the century eggs. The smell was something to get over, but the taste and texture was amazing. I thought they were delicious. I must have had about four or five slices. We had other dishes too, which included pigs' kidneys, and sheaps' liver, both cooked with vegetables in an unbearably spicy sauce. The sheep's liver was good and reminded me of haggis, though I've only tried the canned variety so far. The pig's kidneys were...well...pig's kidneys...the parts of a pig that process it's urine. There's not much more I can tell you about them beyond that. They totally were what they were.
So, the next day, I wanted more century eggs, so I went back and ordered a plateful and ate the whole thing and nothing else with it for dinner. During the night I woke up, and was ill, but then I went back to sleep. The next morning I got up and was still ill, but I went to school anyway. Then after my second class I felt so bad that I went home. That evening, when I shat them out, they were completely unchanged from the way they were when I had swallowed them!
I think that during the fermentation process, whatever it is they do to them with the lye and whatever, it kills everything, including the enzymes that break them down. I don't think there was anything really wrong with them. I think the problem was that I ate them alone. I don't want to dissuade anyone from trying them. They are, in fact, a delicacy. Just be sure to eat other stuff with them.
I, personally, probably will not be able to eat them again. I had the same experience with kumquats. When I first had kumquats, I was like, "wow, this is different. I want more!" So I bought two packs of them and ate them all in one go. What I believe happened was the acid from the kumquats was so strong, that it, combined with my stomach acid wore away the mucosal lining of my stomach, which allowed some bacteria to enter and cause an infection. I had gastritis for over a week from that, and it was so painful, I have not been able to eat a kumquat since. I know my greatest sin is my gluttony and I pay for it over and over again. Now, all I want is a god damn steak or a hamburger, and some potatoes in any non-Chinese form. I feel very ashamed now. As I once read in another person's blog about China, "you've done China, when China's done you." And I've been had.
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