China vs Thailand (Part Three): Seeds of Discontent

I cried a lot when I was alone in my Chinese apartment.   Encountering a variety people turned out to not be mostly helpful.  Some helped.  There were a few people who did things like point out different places to eat, show me a lay of campus, tell me how to get around, or would even help ease the loneliness and have meals with me.

But I also ran into some who were just, well, odd, in their reactions.  I was asking questions to one person and he looked at me as if I had two heads and asked, “Well, haven’t you studied abroad before?”  The tone and context implied that I should know how to orient myself to a new culture because I should have studied abroad when I was a student prior to getting a job overseas once I had a graduate degree.  Unfortunately, as much as I desired to do this, my abusive mother not only forbade me from studying abroad in college, she would not allow me to go on an out of country missions trip.  At the time I didn’t know I could actually get a copy of my birth certificate on my own and that little piece of paper she took pride in holding onto, telling me I couldn’t have it until I was a responsible adult. (Whatever that meant…)

Back to my first weeks in China.  Others were also quite negative towards me, too.

Like I mentioned previously, the former Associate Dean seemed to treat me like a burden with all of my questions.  The lack of support from the leadership just made me feel more insecure in my role there.

The same individual also sprang some unexpected news on me.  Instead of the around 20 students in each of my five classes that he had told me I would have when I was still back in the States, the last weekday before classes started he informed me I would have closer to 35-40 students in each class.

If this class were a lecture class with tests and homework, 35-40 students isn’t fun but is doable.  I was there to teach speech.  When you teach speech and need to meet the requirements of giving students enough time to, well, speak, even 20 students in a class is really pushing the limits.  Let’s add one additional factor that ended up making my classes more difficult to teach and move at a slower pace:  the majority of my students were EFL students, which means English is not their first or perhaps even second language.   Further, not all EFL students have the same grasp of English or ability to comprehend and communicate in the language.

That former Associate Dean also declared I could handle this load without any issues as long as I modified my syllabus to what he thought I should.  To academics reading this, you will cringe the my academic freedom was impinged upon by a man who not only has not taught but also does not have a degree in my field.  To me this felt like my competence and expertise was questioned from this individual from the start.

I’m not a city girl.  I have lived in nice Minnesota suburbs my entire pre-expat life.  Even if I were a city girl in Minneapolis, I doubt I would have had much encounter with nasty critters like giant rats the size of cats.

One day when I was walking up the stairs into my apartment, I saw a huge rat (yes, the size of a cat (scurry by and up the stairs.  Well, I lived on the 5^th floor and would have to continue up.  I carefully did, paranoid about this awful, nasty critter being in my path.  I saw it again and it ran under a box that was in the stairwell (trash, boxes, extra items, etc. are not an uncommon site in a Chinese stairwell as people seem to use that space for extra storage).   I was terrified!  I managed to get into my apartment without it getting in (since, of course, it was under a box right outside my neighbor’s door).  Yikes!  The next day I asked the former Associate Dean for HELP as I had no idea what to do.  He gave a half ass response that I should buy poison.  Well, obviously in the States I could easily do this, without requiring any help.  But in China not only would I have NO idea where to look for such a thing (if they have it) but I would not be able to read any of the labels that would point me in the right direction.  If the former Associate Dean did not want to “hand hold” new instructors who needed assistance as they figured out how to live in China, someone else should have been appointed.

Keep in mind that even though I am a fairly clever person who doesn’t tend to ask for help and has been able to figure out a lot on my own or with the help of my husband (if I can’t make something work), that I was rendered helpless the moment the plane touched down onto Chinese soil.  I couldn’t do anything anymore!  I couldn’t read and couldn’t communicate with my voice, which, as a Communication specialist, made me feel utterly useless.  I felt like my training and expertise was one giant joke.  I needed help getting buying food, using the post office, going shopping, getting a cab – basically anything that we, as adults, would usually know how to do if we simply moved to another state.  Sure, we might need to ask directions o a place, but that’s about it.

All of these feelings were magnified by the fact that my husband, my cats, and my home were thousands of miles away.

I did find some additional support from a few people and eventually found a wonderful group of friends, but this wasn’t right away.  My first few weeks, however, really are what planted the seeds of discontent.

First impressions of the Thai language

Tuesday marked my first Thai lesson.  I felt disoriented and overwhelmed by the process.  We recited the alphabet together, rapid fire, and learned to spell and say a handful of words.  We’re learning to speak, write, and read all at once.

The process that the school uses, so far, seems disjointed to me.  It may be that I am just so unfamiliar with Thai that my head hurts.  When I studied French in high school (long forgotten, honestly), it meshed better.  But French uses the same alphabet, has a similar grammatical structure, and seems more close to English than Thai does.  Thai’s alphabet is quite different.

I last felt like this when I first sat in on Chinese classes.  The difference this time?  I have to stay in classes because 1.  I paid for them and 2.  if I don’t attend and make progress, I lose my visa.  Chinese was so difficult (they were already looking at characters on my first day) that I gave up and buried myself in my work and social life during my three years in Dalian.  Yes, I learned a handful of phrases of Mandarin, eventually.  I also learned to understand context clues, so I could sometimes understand what people were saying to me.  However, I couldn’t really communicate back.  While it was frustrating to not be able to open my mouth and speak, it was my reality for three years.  We could get around to most places and do a lot on our own, but we really ended up having a translator for much of our time in China.

Here it’s so much easier to not speak Thai since more people speak English vs. what we encountered in China.  For example, in China we once had a package that was not delivered but instead was waiting at the post office for customs clearance.  We could not get this package on our own because of the language barriers.  Here we have had three packages end up at customs and it’s been a very easy trip to get them.  No translator required.

Still, I am a lifelong learner, so I will take this seriously.  I haven’t figured out a good way to study the language, but I suspect in time I will.  I need to be brave enough to use my Thai skills when I start to gain them, though I feel such empathy toward my former students who struggled to speak in English to communicate to me, in the past.

Additionally, for the second master’s degree that I want to do and for the doctorate program I am interested in, I need to have a second language.  I kind of wish I could have chosen something easier like French, but my heart just hasn’t been built for France.  Asia, like it or not, is where my heart is.  Thailand is a pretty great place, so my second language may as well be Thai.

Finally, official

We moved here in July with several suitcases and two cats.  We left those cats and items with someone we know so we could finish packing up our household in China and visit the States.  P’s time in the States was rather short, as he departed for Thailand the first week of September.  And the little guy and I headed to Thailand to join up in early November.

However, since arriving in November, I’ve been here on a tourist visa.  The original plan was for L and I to come under P’s visa, once he had a job and a work permit.  But that hasn’t happened.  Chiang Mai is one of the hardest places in Thailand to get a job as a teacher, so Phil is not working here.  (Don’t worry, we are looking at some other possibilities for further income).

I’ve had to leave the country several times since November because of the tourist status, because, as an American, I can only stay in Thailand up to 30 days as a tourist without a visa.  In December we left for the weekend to go to Laos.  In early January I gained an additional 2 weeks by crossing the border into Burma and back (land borders only give you 15 days, instead of 30).  In January, we went to Malaysia and, once again, we just returned from Malaysia.  All of these trips out of Thailand were because of this ongoing, persistent lack of a visa.

Since P has not secured a job so I cannot come under his visa, we decided that I would enroll in Thai language classes.  Doing so would grant me an ED visa for one year at a time, renewable at the year’s end. I do have to either leave Thailand every 90 days or pay a fee with this visa, but it’s not as bad as I was facing.

Now that I have the right visa, I feel more official, validated, and able to relax.  With the proper visa, we can find a different place to live, get a bank account, a vehicle (once we have enough money for a car), and so many other things I’ve been holding my breath over.  It’s a nice feeling to see that new visa in my passport, even though I’m down to one empty page in my passport at this point.

Here’s my lovely visa, albeit strangely reversed since PhotoBooth makes text look backwards.  No matter how it looks, it’s still enjoyable.

Wonderful, spectacular, amazing, delicious Thai food

The scent of fresh ginger, galangal, kaffir lime leaf, and lemon grass has been at the top of my “favorites” for many years.  Combine those amazing flavors with curry, Thai peppers, and coconut milk and I’m in culinary heaven.  

It’s no secret, if you have been around us for a while, that Phil and I have deeply loved Thai food for many years.  In fact, we started to learn how to cook Thai dishes back when we were in MN.  We found a Thai grocer, obtained some recipes (that have now been verified by a Thai friend as authentic Thai food) and started to learn the art of making Thai food many years ago.  I kid you not that we had not even considered moving to Thailand “back then.”  Our eye was so focused on China that until February 2011, the idea of moving to Thailand really didn’t come up.

We love Thai food not just for its flavors and smells but for its effect, too.

In 2002, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, though I’ve had symptoms since junior high.  We didn’t have a lot of money to spend on drugs, as I got laid off from my full-time job only a few months after the diagnosis.  So we started to look into natural cures for pain management.  Among what we discovered, Thai food, because of its spiciness, was at the top of the list.  Spicy food helps to create endorphins, which, in turn, help to relax muscles.  Korean food has this same affect on me, too, but I didn’t have Korean food until I moved in China.

We both have many favorite dishes but I want to give a tribute to what is probably my all-time favorite dish, tom kha gai (ต้มข่าไก่), which is a chicken soup that is made with coconut milk and galangal root, among other traditional Thai ingredients.

This soup, which I’ve had from many restaurants and have made myself (trying two different recipes), to me, is the epitome of Thai dishes.  It combines many traditional ingredients: coconut milk, lemongrass, galangal root, Thai chili peppers, and kaffir lime leaves, along with chicken and cilantro.  In our home, we also add mushrooms.  This soup has spicy, sweet, and sour flavors that all combine in a pleasant way.  Every time I’ve eaten it, any pain I have melts away.  Phil simply loves it because it tastes amazing.  Here’s to great Thai food!

Supporting local economies

It’s no secret, especially if you have seen our Facebook photos in the last few years, that we travel quite a bit around Asia.  Levi was on 30 flights and in 8 countries before he turned age one, for example.

We are cross-cultural researchers by trade so observing and learning about other cultures firsthand is a passion of ours.  Since we don’t have the opportunity to actually live in all cultures we visit, we do our best to seek out a few key experiences during our travel so that we can get a good taste of that country’s culture or cultures (we will, at some point expound on what culture actually is).

While there are debates about whether or not tourism exploits a country, it cannot be argued that tourism does not help an economy.  The fact is that it does.  Many countries hurt if tourist dollars are lacking.  Thailand, in 2008, faced a crisis when a political situation broke out, causing rioters to take over the airport.  I personally was afraid to visit Thailand on my break for Chinese New Year because of this and chose to go to Singapore instead when my friends up in China and I were planning our vacations together (that was the year Phil was still back in America).

Something important to know about Phil is that he has had an affection for Asia for a long time.  His first true “love” for a country was Japan.  He has wanted to visit Japan for a long, long time.  He went through a period of time, before I met him, where he studied the Japanese language and took in what he could about learning Japanese culture, all back in IL.  He did not have the opportunity to go to Japan, as much as he wanted to.

Japan is not all that far from Dalian, China.  However, for some reason, flying to Japan from most other countries in Asia is around the same cost as flying to America.  This is a weird phenomenon, considering flying around Asia is generally decently priced.

In December 2010, I ran across a deal for really, really, really well-priced tickets to fly to Osaka in April, at the beginning of the month.  I thought this would be a perfect time to go since we had a few days off from school, it was before Levi’s first birthday, and it was before our 9th wedding anniversary.  Awesome.  A wonderful trip of a lifetime to celebrate two upcoming events for our family.

Little did we realize that come March, Japan would experience an earthquake so large in magnitude that the effects would likely be devastating for years to come.  In the wake of that event, the nuclear power leaks were causing the entire world to shake with fear.  We debated whether or not to cancel our trip to Japan, which was scheduled for less than a month after this horrific disaster.

We have a friend who is a physicist who understands nuclear disasters and we got his analysis.  Osaka is around 1,000 miles away from where the nuclear reactors where having issues.  Not only that, the winds that carry the nuclear particles into the air were heading into the ocean, blowing the opposite direction from where Osaka is.  The water and air were tested in Osaka after the disaster and were found safe, unlike Tokyo.  If we had booked our flight to Tokyo instead, we certainly would have canceled.  Given the fact that Osaka seemed relatively safe, we decided to progress with the plan.

It wasn’t just the fact that for Phil this would be a dream fulfilled. 

But it was also the fact that we wanted to make a difference in the lives of a nation that had just lived through a disaster.  Sure, we weren’t going to be anywhere close to the site and life would (and did) look normal in Osaka.  But by giving tourist dollars to Japan, we could make a small difference, especially knowing that many, many trips others had planned were canceled, causing Japan’s economy to hurt.

The trip ended up being amazing.  We were in Osaka at the very peak of the cherry blossom season, so we were not just in Japan, but in Japan at the perfect time of year.  Each year in Japan, people await spring’s start by viewing the blooming of the cherry blossoms.  This doesn’t just draw the Japanese to enjoy the scenery, but people from all over the world.  I have always thought it would be special to see this but, given Phil’s heart for Japan for so many years, going to Japan at this time of year was at the top of his list for his dream of going to Japan.  The thing is, you can’t actually anticipate exactly when the cherry blossoms will bloom.

 

Like the fall colors in the US, you can estimate, but each year it will be slightly different.  God was so good to our family because we happened to be in Osaka for the peak for 2011.  What an amazing opportunity!  What beauty!  The photos we took do not do justice to how breathtaking the trees were.  But they serve as an amazing reminder to our family that Phil saw a dream fulfilled while also getting to help support a hurting nation in the wake of the worst earthquake its ever faced.  For us those days will remain precious since we were very aware that Japan was a nation in need, a nation recovering, and a nation that was still beautiful, even with its scars.  In considering our decision to keep our cancel our trip, we prayed a lot while also considering the evidence.  We’re not sure if God blessed us with the peak season because we went to support a hurting nation with our tourist dollars, but we certainly know that no matter the reason, being in Japan for the cherry blossoms’ blooming was an amazing blessing.

China vs. Thailand (Part Two): Landings

Last time I wrote about my feelings and expectations about becoming an expatriate. Most of what I experienced leading up to my flight to Korea was a mix of excitement, fear, in anticipation. I really didn’t know what to actually expect, but I thought I would find a mix of modern in the midst of the traditional.  This is exactly what I found in the few short hours that I was in the Korean airport. When I got on the plane to head to Dalian, I was hoping for that same kind of experience in China. However, as the plane approached China I looked down through the window.  The scenery I saw included the shipyard, rusting industrial wasteland, and the same apartment building duplicated over and over and over again. I was frightened. I actually uttered the words, “My God, I am in China.”  In some ways it was an observation and in other ways, it was a prayer.

I shook a little.

And then when I got off the plane that airport  looked, at first glance, old and broken down, and was nothing at all like the modern spectacle I had seen in Korea.  The customs hall to enter the country was in a dank and dark basement. At the time I did not know that the airport was under construction. Though no one around me spoke English, and even though I had been the only Caucasian on the flight, I managed to figure out how to enter the country. I found the queue to stand in with my passport waiting, ready for them to see.  I handed it to them, watch them stamp my passport, and was then legally on Chinese soil.  I saw a place to exchange money and handed over a few remaining American dollars as I had no idea what to expect in terms of my 1st paycheck.  I saw my luggage.  It, too, has safely landed in China.  At least something was familiar, right?

Gathering my luggage, all alone, on the baggage cart, I moved toward the exit. Thankfully, I knew I was going to be picked up by the school, though I didn’t know who would be waiting.  They were there, several Chinese individuals who asked if I was Shawna. I was happy that somebody was there for me all. Immediately they took all of my luggage, including my carry-ons trying to make it easier for me and brought me out to the school owned vehicle.

Something you may or may not know about me is that with my connection to school teams in both high school and college and after college as both a competitor and as a coach, is that I have been in many school owned vehicles. So in my mind’s eye, I have an expectation of what a school van will look like.  Little did I realize, that the vehicle I was about to enter seemed like it should have instead been purchased by a teenager at a junkyard for very little money. In other words, it was quite run down and it didn’t seem like the most safe and practical vehicle to use for school functions.  I didn’t see a seat belt anywhere in the vehicle. As we drove I tried to ask some questions to one of the Chinese staff members but found her to be quite cold in her responses.  Looking back, I think this must’ve been a bad day for her or that she might’ve been distracted as she became a very reliable and stable person to go to for help.

At this point in my journey, I had been awake for much of it and had certainly not showered.  All I wanted was a bath.  However, it would be a while before I would be able to change into new clothes and wash. In fact, much to my delight, they told me they were placed to have photos taken, which I later learned was for work permit.   They also asked me to pay for the photos so I was very glad that I have exchanged some money even though this expense was quite unexpected.  Afterward, they drove me to what was going to be my apartment for the year.  They grabbed my luggage, walked down a very broken looking set of paved stairs into a rundown looking courtyard, and opened a metal door that didn’t appear to latch.  I figured this was where I was going to live and did not like what I was seeing.  Along with a bunch of trash, there was a porcelain toilet just sitting out in front of the door looking gross, broken, and moldy. For me, this was the Wizard of Oz, not in Kansas anymore moment.

The Chinese individuals quickly went up 5 flights of stairs as I followed and landed in front of the metal, dark and cold looking door.  They opened the door drawing things in check a few things in the apartment such as the air conditioner/heater unit, faucet, washing machine, water dispenser, and said a few things in broken English about how to use these items. The pivotal moment for me, which stands out as the moment I wanted to flee, was when I looked in the bathroom saw not only no bath tub, but also no discernible shower unit. I was so confused. Later on, when I was alone, I cried over this, as all I really, truly wanted was a hot bath.

One of the Chinese individuals cranked a lever on my faucets in the bathroom then flipped a switch to show me the water would come out of a look like a shower handle and I could put it in a holder above my head if I wanted to.  You would shower over the floor the entire bathroom would get wet!  I, of course, know now that it is common in Asia to have a “wet bathroom” where you shower over the floor in the directly drains that they.   Of course, in my American mind all I wanted was an American shower with an American bath unit, not some crazy looking device.

 

 

I wasn’t done and wasn’t allowed to simply rest and relax, or shower. They brought me to the school where I met the American associate Dean, the person who had been my contact through the interviews and through the process of getting me over to China. I asked him what I was going to get paid as I had very, very little money on me. Payday in China was the day before I arrived to and the Chinese staff who attended talks to already had told me that I could get paid since payday had passed. It turns out it was going to be additional 2 weeks before I was going to see any money.

To make matters worse, the staff and the Assistant Dean seemed frustrated that I needed help.  It seemed like I was a burden to them.  I didn’t know how to eat, how to get water, or do basic things as I was in a country that looked completely foreign to me.  Also, I had been promised I would have internet in my apartment (which I needed for online teaching, but it wasn’t working).  In short, I was a mess who was very lonely, wondering what kind of horrible mistake I had made.  I actually contemplated telling them to find someone else and to fly me back.  That’s how awful of a reception I had.

They did help me get some food, but it certainly wasn’t without any resistance.   Of course, going to the nearby grocery store turned out to be completely mind numbing, as nothing looked at all familiar.  I could hardly find any of the sorts of foods I would know how to make or would be used to.

A few people took me under their wing in the coming days, but none of them were actually the people who were supposed to orient newcomers. As I would come to find out, the people who were in charge didn’t actually seem to understand how to orient new people into the school and into Chinese culture.  In fact, this was such a large problem that it was still not solved by the time we left, even though he and I actively tried to work words changing the system to help newcomers orient themselves into the culture.

What was really needed was somebody who could range between Chinese and American culture someone who could help both sides the Chinese and the Americans to understand each other and to learn from one another.  In my field, Communication, the term for such an individual is a cultural broker.  This person essentially is bicultural, living in and understanding both cultures so that he or she may be able to help others overcome cultural conflict and culture shock.  Sadly, there wasn’t really someone like this at my school.  There were several individuals who had/have the potential to be in this role, however.

I am trained in cross-cultural communication. I understand the inner workings of culture on the theoretical level.  However, I was simply not ) for my time in China before I left and as I landed, fresh off the plane, my cold and frustrating welcome left me wondering for a long time where root issues were.  Was I the problem or was it something deeper?  As I write more, I plan to unpack the past three years that were spend in China as I start to wrap my head around the transition we are currently undergoing.

Though this new blog is set up to explore our life in Thailand, primarily, a lot of reflection as to how we ended up in Thailand after China is necessary.  So what you will probably see are posts like this, remembering China, alongside posts that explore this new place we are at as we both wrestle with what we’re learning and what we’ve experienced.

Thailand vs. China (Part One)

Ok, I’ll admit it.  The title of this post isn’t really fair.  As a cross-cultural researcher, one of the first ideas my field teaches is that you can’t exactly compare cultures on a list.  Cultural variations are so different, it’s really like comparing apples and oranges.

Culture stems from worldview (note: this is an idea my husband Phil is going to address in another post, since worldview studies are one of his passions) and, as such, we have to understand the underlying factors of one’s worldview before we can attempt to understand that culture.  In other words, it’s not just an easy comparison.

But I wanted to spend some time addressing why Thailand and why not China any more.  After all, for many I’ve talked to, leaving another country for yet a different one seemed like a strange move.

This post may end up in several parts since this became a complex situation.  Where else to start?  The beginning, 2008, when I was alone across the world, fresh off the plane.

Literally.  I was not even in China yet when my expectations about the experience started to unfold.  My flight started in Minneapolis, took me to Chicago where I waited several hours to board a late night flight to Korea.  I was on a long, long flight, longer than I had ever experienced, away from my husband and cats, not to mention my life and all I had known.

When I was finally off the plane at at amazingly modern airport that I now consider my favorite airport in the world.  I saw, with fresh eyes, signs with both English and an “Asian” language that previously I had not seen before. 

Now I know it’s Korean and can pick it out  in the midst of many other languages.  But at that time, I was in awe, as I was trying to process what this new experience would consist of and what it would be like.

I saw signs talking about being able to drink the water.

I saw new fangled, crazy looking public phones that seemed to somehow not only reach international numbers but access the internet.  I desperately wanted to use one to call Phil and let him know I was safe, but I couldn’t figure it out.

Thankfully, I remember I had Skype on my computer.  I could call Phil using it.

Which I did.  It was such an amazing experience to hear my husband’s voice across thousands of miles and be able to connect with him for a short while as I waited on my layover.

The airport was clean, had amazing technology and modern conveniences.  I saw Korean shops alongside places like Burger King, Dunkin’ Donuts, and Quizno’s Subs.  I saw a Korean cultural center that looked like it taught about traditional Korean. I even saw a Caribou Coffee there. This connection back to MN made me smile. I didn’t drink anything there at that time, since I didn’t have any Korean won and I didn’t know I could use my American cash (which I learned eventually, as the Korean airport is often a hub for us).  So in this short visit to the airport, I saw a true sense of “East Meets West” and “Old Meets New.”  I saw the state of the art technology that one hears is common in Asia.  And I was truly excited about what was waiting for me in China.  Surely if I was seeing Korea as this awesome of a place, China would be the same. wouldn’t it?

I was becoming an ex-pat.  I was doing something new and amazing.  I had a taste of one Asian culture in the airport and I was ready for more.

And yet…….I never found what I was looking for in China.  Cold, hard reality set in almost instantly, making me want to leave moments after my landing. I’ll save that for Part 2.

~Shawna