All your jiaozi are belong to me

One of the stated goals of the Peace Corps China mission is to promote cross-cultural awareness. Both their Chinese counterparts and direct American supervisors are quick to stress the multualization of this awareness. It is with this in mind that I explain what I've gleaned of family life here in China.
Sebastien and I moved in with a host family on Friday. We now live with a grandmother and father, mom, dad and 10 year-old-girl. In Chinese culture, the woman typically doesn't take the man's family name. This is interesting when you consider that the Chinese write their last names first. So in this family the Mother has the family name and thus first name Yan while the daughter, Father and Grandfather all have the first name Jian. This also means that the grandmother has a different first/family name and her's is Tang.
We were all given Chinese names to use in our communities and in our classes and mine is Mai Qi. In English it sounds like (My Chee) Sebastien's is even cooler Lao Hao Tian and his means big blue sky.
Name giving in Chinese is a very involved process that I've only just scratched the surface of, but I know your Chinese name may be chosen because it rhymes with something auspicious or has the same letter of one of the popular surnames.

With my host family we typically eat rice porridge in the morning. There is usually a second grain added to the mix. Yesterday we had a kind of pea and today it was corn. To this warm bowl of tasty, we add pickled vegetables, home roasted peanuts, hard boiled eggs and any left over meat dishes from last night's supper. This morning we had duck with hot peppers and short strips bacon. Each person uses serving chopsticks to add as much of the various sides as they like.

Lunch and dinner are quite similar. Each person is given a small bowl of rice to which they may add a few morsels at a time of the various meat and vegetable dishes. If you've ever had a Sichuan dish you know that by and large the food in our house is spicy. We're quite pleased with this arrangement.

On Sunday afternoon my grandma showed us how to make dumplings. The filling was pork, garlic, ginger and green onions. We boiled as much as we could eat in the wok and set the rest in the freezer for later. She made a special sauce but I haven't learned the trick of that yet.

Jiaozi = 饺子 = wontons = dumplings

There is a piano here, a western toilet, a flat screen tv, a balcony with a vegetable garden and we even have air conditioning. The hardest part of my life right now is meeting the goals set for my language requirement. One of the difficulties with that is we're trained to emulate standard Mandarin from Beijing and here in the Four Rivers province of Sichuan, the phoneme ling becomes lin.

Another such challenge is American intonation. Intonation is not the same thing as tone. We use intonation at the end of the sentence to indicate a question. Or we stretch out the word to play at sarcasm. When these habits come into Chinese speaking, the entire idea you were intending to convey is lost.  Another difficulty I personally am facing is many of the words in Chinese are homonyms to words in French. Bu means no in Chinese but in French it's the past tense form of 'to drink'. Likewise, the pronunciation for le and la are inverted between the two languages.

If I don't pass my practicum but the Peace Corps is still willing to keep me on by the end of my two month language and teacher training, I will be required to meet with a tutor four hours a week for the first semester. I don't see this as a real loss, as an affordable tutor was a budge item of mine anyway. That and nail clippers. I can't find the flipping things anywhere.

Have an excellent week, everyone.

Find your balance, or at least your footing. So sayeth we all.

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Spoiler alert, I cried.

Hey everybody
Posting may be spastic until I can get a few looming tasks out of the way.  Recently, though, I acquired a copy of Final Cut Pro so I'll be trying to figure that out and get up the latest video I shot as soon as Erinly possible.
I've been doing a lot of downloading lately and as a result gotten my hands on those big Oscar flicks. So far I've seen Lincoln and Amour.

The Stephen Spielberg film is going to be the final word on Lincoln in American classrooms and homes all over the world for a long time to come. I would be last to deny that my views on the captivity and enslavement of humans were not shaped by motions he passed in congress. But the Abraham presented in the film doesn't mesh honestly with the man who wrote this letter:

My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or destroy Slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves, I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do that. 

Full Letter, New York Times.
Do I still respect him? Am I grateful towards him and what the Republican party stood for in that point in the History of the United States?  Yes, of course on all accounts. But Slavery was bad for business in the North and real abolitionist were freeing themselves and freeing others before it ever became a matter for the boys in the Federal City.
Speaking in terms of its capacities as a film it was elegantly shot. Abe looked exactly as I would have expected and was just as folksy as advertised by my fourth grade history text.
My favorite moment in the film had to be the George Washington reaction shot. That was just golden. That and the two references to women's suffrage were also tastefully done so I was in the end not wholly dissatisfied with the film.

Amour was particularly hard for Sebastien to watch what with the similarities to his grandparent's situations on both sides of his family. But for my part, I was pleased to understand literally everything that was said. I've really arrived. Srs, I was laying on my husband's chest thinking that he's the very reason I can appreciate this film in the original language without subtitles. It made me feel so close to him.
But the film is just. so. French.
OMG, yes, it's well framed. The color palate is exquisite everything that should be there is. You even see a little back story existing between the daughter and her English speaking partner--there is some depth there that didn't need to be. Wonderful. However, during the scene  where said daughter is having a private talk with her father I wanted to see his face. Would he be as mortified as I would have been? Gawd, that's so French. And the twist? Really? REALLY?
So French.
But so good. Seriously, I won't give you more than what I have because it's your homework to see it.
I may watch the film again just to study it. As I said, I understood everything that was said, but I don't phrase things as they were in the film. This would really go a long way to getting me closer to verbal fluency.

I've been getting up earlier and working a little harder on my language acquisition. I do French in the morning and Chinese in the afternoon.  That said, if you're interested in learning Mandarin, my friend Tim recommended this incredibly useful and free program. You can completely customize your learning experience. It has my full endorsement. And so does Tim--check out his Blog on life in China. It's a great read.

Don't get any crazy ideas about me, because Mandarin is super hard. I honestly feel a little awkward trying to pronounce words correctly. My childhood was filled with people doing fake Asian...uh, speeches (?)  I don't know, whatever you call the racist form of speaking in tongues. As a result, everything I say feels a little embarrassing. I'm very excited by the challenge, though and I'm really going to apply myself to it.

Due to recent budget cuts, I've been making miracles in the kitchen for much less. (And with only half the amount of pasta you might expect.) Ongoings lately have included an awesome dinner on Valentine's day. We did it on the cheep but cheese fondue is always super yums. We also had a party the other weekend with about 40 to 50 people in ugly sweaters. The nay-bores didn't even complain so we must have done something right. I posted a few pic's taken with my coloc's camera over on my flickr account if that's the sort of thing you want to see more of. There are a few nudes but the airbrushing was truly top shelf.

That's it for now--watch out for that video blog, it's going to be a double blind taste test of a popular American drink and its European counterpart. All my best friends are scientists so they did there best to  scoff at my methods and make me cry. I think you'll like it.
Spoiler alert, yes, I cried.
Have a great week
:)

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This is a bunch of stuff

So I was walking through the Place de la Republic the other night realizing that the perfect time to be out and about in Paris is that sweet spot  between 21h and 23:30 on a quite soggy night because  the sidewalks aren't smoky and over crowded and the drunks aren't yet too curious. 

Naturally, I was singing. I have discovered a lot of great bands over the last year and even though my breaths support isn't what it once was, I still like to belt me out a good tune. All this would be fine if I hadn't been listening to debate highlights songified--the whole time wondering how freakish and patriotic I must look to anyone in earshot and bilingue.

As you may know, we've been in a holding pattern here in Paris for quite some time. It's been my plan since before high school to do the Peace Corps and maybe I meant to do it sooner but it really seems like it's going to happen now. Can't say for sure when, as yet, but before the end of this year I expect to be in another country. 

In a letter we received last night from our recruiter, I was assured there are no posts open in French-speaking countries. Which is a bummer because they currently have open programs in Senegal, Guinea, Burkina Faso, Togo, Benin and Cameroon. They also have feet on the ground in Morocco and Madagascar, but their flash map says they don't train their volunteers in French in these countries. 

Check it out for yourself, it's a pretty solid history of where the Peace Corps has been in the world.

I'll be the first to admit that my thirst for adventure was what interested Erin the child in the Corps but Erin the taller really does like to help people. I say this to explain that my concept--or if I'm being honest--fantasy of how service in the Peace Corps would go has evolved just as I have... 

If this is you:

We should be friends. 

/digression

I've kind of always had my heart set on Africa. The best short fiction in the New Yorker always came out of Africa, said Erin the Child. People are starving in Africa, said Erin's mom, Eat your dinner. Let's deny them access to contraception and education, said the Bush administration. I take a shower after having sex with someone I suspect of having HIV,  remarked the current President of South Africa.   Erin the taller said, I can teach and now I know a nominal amount of French, let me serve. But the letter said we are being considered for all the open programs in the world. So we could be in Columbia or Turkmenistan, as it suits them.
As much as I'm quietly worried about the atrophying of my French, I'm also feeling liberated from my expectations. I can learn almost any language they need me to in two years time. I've proved that to myself here. Moreover, I'm traveling with a rational, map and money-savvy man who will stick by my side and help me sail to our next port. Most of all, I shouldn't worry too much about a future I can't predict or change--I know these things, but I  don't live this truth. 

It snowed last weekend; almost all day, on Sunday. What a wonderful gift to the children of Paris, on an afternoon like Sunday. No school. More than half the shops in town closed your parents have to spend time with you. Many of the streets closed to cars, couldn't have hoped for a better excuse to make wintertime memories.  You should have seen them in Le Parc des Buttes Chaumont.

We slid on our heels a while others used cardboard, truckless skateboards, or sleds, or skis. We walked all the way home and had hot chocolate en route. Had an even better cup of it last night, as a matter of fact. You could say that things have been pretty cozy, lately. We've been reusing tea bags and burning candles. Sweaters, slippers and wool socks whenever we're up. Lots of reading in bed. I love it. There is even a machine raclette sitting on our kitchen table. We'll see what comes of it.
My only sure thing is Sunday's March for Equality. That's right, I'm determined not to be too hungover to stand up for my French LGBT brothers and sisters and their right as tax paying citizens to marry and raise children legally. There was a protest against it two weeks ago but as Biden would say, "Their ideas are old, and their ideas are bad." And I would quote him, because debates are better as musicals.
See you on the other-side of eventually. 

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Choose my own adventure!

You wake up in a cave to the sound of a loud beeping and no coffee being made.
What do you?
It's time you knew something important about me. I'm lazy. But not the kind of lazy that if you give me a hard problem I'll find a simple way to fix it lazy, more like the kind of lazy that makes one miss out on important opportunities, such as breakfast or class.
I told you a little bit about how my first french course was megaly amazing, right? Well, it was all because the professor was a  hilarious seven-year-old walking around in a my-sized body. One of her assignments was to describe a robbery to the police.
We first listened to staged accounts of robberies and she asked us pointed questions about how they went down. She then corrected for grammatical errors and wrote a relevant phrase or two on the board. We then broke into pairs and came up with a robbery scenario to present to the class. While we did so she walked among us and answered questions or made corrections to pronunciation or syntax.  We then presented to the class, who would in turn answer specific questions about each skit. After each, she would then give notes on common errors or other things we should pay attention to.
This, without even the added flair of how fun she made it, is how a verbal language lesson should go. Plenty of practice, listening and speaking. She gave us a chance to be creative and critical, but she also knew how to have a good time.
For instance: One of the students said the robber had big feet and our professor insinuated that one might only notice a gentleman's feet if...

For more innuendos please turn to page 69

This has all been my way of saying, I walked out of my French class today.
The "new" now-old professors is one of those teachers who relies on one student to keep the class moving. The stupidest part about this method is there may be other capable students in the class who just don't process as quickly, find it rude to shout out answers or prefer to be invited to speak. As for me, I fall into none of those categories. I can always practice at home, so I don't feel the need to fill the air with how fast I can respond. Many bright students are unaware that they are doing anything wrong. They think that if other people knew the answer, they would just speak  up. They don't consider their own sense of privilege or their obligation to be a participate, not a leader. It's up to the teacher to call on other students or have a private word with the Bogart in question so that everyone feels like they're contributing. If you agree, skip to the next paragraph.

Another large problem I had with her was the way she played this game that all new teachers are warned against, it's called, "Can you guess the word I'm thinking of." She would propose an adjective and then ask for the opposite. If one woman's smile is faux (false) the other woman's smile is......real, kind, sympathetic? Non, non, non, the only correct answer was sincere. And while I can say this is possibly the best answer for the direct opposite, it is clearly not the only answer. In rational real numbers mathematics there are discreet answers, and surely when it is a matter of grammatical rules there are right and wrong responses, but shades of meaning are hardly a science. And then of course I was obliged to discuss the royal wedding for the first three meetings which was clearly the highlight of my week.
So I walked out, and as I do, she finally-- after three weeks, finally-- refers to me as vous (cuz she doesn't even know my name) and she asks me,
"Will you be returning or not?"
Not. I said, over my shoulder.
And down to the office I strolled.
Granted, it's not as cool as it once may have been to walk out of class flipping the verbal bird at a teacher but I still felt sufficiently smug.
I'm getting pretty bored with complaining so let me just say that I enrolled in a longer, more intensive class that begins next month. I don't expect to like it more but instead of three free months of French class, I'm getting 6 and a half free months of class. Now with more hours and more days per week!

I guess I'm kinda sucking on the lemon of life right now because we had our Peace Corps interview yesterday. It went well enough. She told us that couples who can both speak French are in pretty high demand and she thinks she should be able to place us by next summer. Sebastien was disappointed by this last notion because he was apparently hoping to leave sooner.
Right around dinner time, We got an email saying she could get us into Morocco by the first of January if we wrote to her soon. After my initial pleasure with the quick turn around, I found I was a little disappointed because I was hoping for a country I knew less about. Like Tunisia, Morocco has had so much contact with other countries on the Mediterranean that it feels almost European. Also like Tunisia, they think they're better than everyone else on the continent and have no trouble saying as much, either.

But aside from sharpening my French skills I would also learn Moroccan Arabic, who's limits knows no bounds!

JK, it isn't a standard dialect and isn't spoken outside of Morocco. The only good it could ever be for me besides my cranium getting crammed full of newness is if I wanted to communicate with  Parisians or Moroccans.  On the other hand, Sebastien's parents would likely come visit us if we excepted the mission because they basically love Moroccan cuisine as much as French. Howevski, if we're off in some remote corner of it all, I can't see how we could really make them comfortable. Bref, these are uncertain times.

Bref. J'ai voulu partir en vacances. - Episode du 10/01

If you except the mission turn to page 2013
If you write an email asking for another placement, please stand by.

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The cover sheet of my TPS report

Well, I quit my job yesterday.


I literally took a nap after I wrote that line.

I cried when I told my mom I was thinking of quitting because I didn't even make it a full month there. But just trying to meet the physical and mental demands of the job  would have been hard enough, if they didn't run counter to every other aspect of my life.
Let's pretend you're a new recruit.  First, don't worry-you'll get two days off a week, not Saturday and Sunday, mind, but any two days off in a row if they can swing it. The other days you would go in at 10:45  have a coffee and start work at 11. You would work till 3pm, have a big lunch and come home. You are now off until 6:30 when sit down to eat and start work at 7. You're probably not hungry, but there will be no more food options until after midnight so get some protein in your belly. Work from 7 to 2 AM, at least three times a week, though on the early nights you'll be home before 1 AM.
Remember: 10 drinks, three normal cokes with no ice, two Zeros with no lemon, 2 of one kind of beer, two of another--one of those is only a demi, and the rest easy to spill martinis...you remember which burger is well done, right? Is that tartar préparer or poêlé?  How many people need a sharp knife? Did you really forget to put bread down on table vingt-deux? They want the ribs, but no pomme au four, substitue frites. But just for one-- Je sais qu'elle a dit, "aparaît" mais, elle vas prendre haricots verts, supplémentaires !
You got that?
The quesadilla comes out first, but they want the soup with the meal. Wait, have three people told you yet: He wanted a large salad, but you tapped a small.
Is there really no new silverware on table trente-deux? Their second course is almost done, reclaim it! Table quarante-cinq is just drinking tap water, lots and lots of tap water. When you have a second, can you bring them  more of that? Great, the total bill comes out to cent quatre-vingts-neuf et cinquante centimes, split it four ways.
They are not tipping.

But if you've got a good sense of balance and a good mind for factorial trees, you'll rarely screw up. Don't expect anyone to care if you do your job properly, they will only notice the times you fall short of that mark. And no, you're not changing lives, you're serving lunch, so pretending that what you do ultimately has any meaning and is therefore worth stressing out about may be difficult for you. It certainly was for me.

It was also really hard for Sebastien who suddenly had to be in charge of cleaning, laundry, all the dishes ever as well as cooking for himself....which means he ate soup nearly the whole time I worked there. Sometimes he laid down to cuddle with me for my midday nap, but that was really all I saw of him.

Look, I know I have basically been on a two year vacation in France. It's made me feel pretty shitty about myself, but jumping off the deep end into extreme physical labor was not (apparently) the answer. Not while I live in a colocation with six other people who have normal day jobs and don't care that I have to work brunch on Sunday morning--because if you haven't gone to sleep yet, it's still Saturday night, and if they want to play guitar in the kitchen to impress a trio of girls at 6 am that's just what they're going to do.

I could always move out. But that means that my days off are spent looking for new places to live and then moving there....something I couldn't really put on the table as an option until I had a full contract with this company--which would only be granted to me a few months from now in the best of circumstances.

So anyway, I have a part time gig a few days a week for more money per hour than I ever made in the States. I can read and write blog posts again and take short trips on the weekends. I can cook with my partner and have a social life in the evenings. Obviously, I still feel bad about giving up...but I'm sure I'll get over it, I have a lecture to prepare..

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Faire la moonwalk

I'm not one to need the excuse of a new year to tempt me into changing who I am. But a blogger friend of mine brought up the concept of mantras and new beginnings (See full post. ) And it has me glancing and staring at a few things in my life. So here are some productive changes I feel compleled to attempt.

Your bat signal is staring at me

Be more rock and roll before 11 am. 

My colocs and I were at a great show for this group La Cafetera Roja and one of them (the spicy Italian) commented that I had on a short skirt and was lookin good. And I was like, um, I always dress this way. And my other coloc who is also funemployed said, you are not so rock and roll at 11 am.
The truth of it is, I'm rarely awake before 11 am. 

And I want to be.
Especially when the sky has been so blue and both the river and a hilly park are both so close. 

Let men chase me more

I'm often on the hunt. I have a type and I can usually snag them. But really, they like to hunt too and evasion tactics can be pretty fun as well. (I have to say, 'no you can't have it' is my favorite game in the world... but only after I've had it...) 

Frankly,  and lets be Frank here, Al, in all matters of the mattress I'm direct and playing the game otherwise is a contradiction of my nature. But why not shuffle the deck now and then, am I right?

And on the topic of the game, Betty...you just lost.

Speak French.

Ok, I do. Sometimes. Like with the kebab guy if Sebastien isn't there. Or with the bread guy, if Sebastien isn't there. Or with anyone if I'm nice and tipsy. Right. So, I can choose to be half-cocked around the clock or just practice more at home with my friends...and study on my own. Because I have the time.

Do more graffiti

I was really getting into it back in DC. I should produce some pieces that I can be proud of and paint this town red. Or, you know, which ever color is cheapest. 

Be more thrifty

I barely have money so I really need to be on my grind a little more. I just like sharing and I don't care that much for budgeting. We have about enough money to keep us here for 5 or 6 months. But if we don't worm our way into the social security system, get them to recognize our union, get Sebastien a stand up on the level job and get him through the 3 months trial period, we'll have to leave or give the French government 8 percent of what we made jointly last year to enjoy their socialist bennies. No spank you. 

Go to school...maybe..

I don't want to be a teacher for children. No listen, I really respect teachers and it's basically the most obvious thing for me to do with my work day and skill set. Thing is, come three thirty, I detest children. Why are you still talking? Go home!   But in 4 or 5 years, I plan on having a couple. I don't want to hate them and have no time for them and all of that. In a perfect world, I would finish with my work, fix them something fun and yummy for dinner, and pull out their learning standards and see if I can't tiger mom them into a higher social postion then myself. 

So I'm thinking, go back to school....but not for teaching. Maybe. Ok, thats more long term and has to be sussed out. 

Anyway, those are my goals, pretty much in the order of importance to me.  Right now though, this warm weather and I have a date. We're going to the park, but we may stand quietly and watch the river for a time. We might think about the transference of energy along waves, and think of sound waves and of ocean waves and the cold sting of the Atlantic back along the section of la mere that I called my own. Once at the park we might stare at the trees, fresh buds sure to loose to winter's next frost. Happy and green. Deep breaths in. The weather and I will look at what we've done and what we've seen and I dare say we will see so many different things.
But that's just my plan, and like all plans, it's a little romantic. Who can really say until it's come and gone.
I don't know. So here I go. That's my new mantra, the internet. (If new can be something you've only just now noticed.) Shrug. I don't know. So here I go, indeed.

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Hail to the Pretendership

This post will feature insightful comments on cultural differences. If you neither see the insights nor the need for differences you're basically a douche, and not my friend, in the French sense.

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