To different time zones.

August 9, 2006

I met Shi and Wei for breakfast at 5:30 a.m. as promised. I was severely dehydrated and not sure whether or not I could drink the tap water. I expected there to be water at breakfast, but instead was greeted with a fried egg and a bag of milk. There was also a hunk of bread and a pork dumpling. I ate grudgingly, still bloated from the previous night.

Wei dropped us off at the airport and we made our way through the terminal. I was desperately seeking a wi-fi connection and a cash machine, the combination of which would allow me to secure a password, withdraw Chinese money, and buy water. I didn’t want to pester Shi who had already been generous beyond reason.

After a protracted and unsuccessful effort, we boarded the plane. I secured for myself a small paper cup of warm water then gave up and went to sleep.

We arrived in Wei Hai and were greeted by the school’s driver, Nguyen. He drove us to a hotel in Rong Cheng where I’ll be living for the next few months. A small collection of the city’s English teachers had been assembled to have lunch with us.

The reindeer games began early as I was expected to drink beer with everybody and toast such things as the difference in time zones. The teachers spoke in halting English and understood me only when I spoke at half-speed. I attempted to ask questions about my role over the next few weeks. It appears that I will begin teaching 2 classes a day at a private language school in a different town beginning August 12th, and that may or may not continue when my primary assignment begins on August 28th.

The fatigue, jet lag, alcohol, and continuous gorging were beginning to take their toll when I was led away in a semi-trance state as the lunch ended. Nguyen and one of the English teachers, Patrick, offered to take me shopping. Wanting to get a lay of the land, I accepted and we drove off to the main shopping area in Rong Cheng, which they referred to as “Working Street.” The dozens of retailers seemed pleased with my foreigness.

We visited a western-style eatery, apparently so that they could show me off to the proprietor, then we drove up to Shi’s school and then to the beach. I was in seriously rough shape at this point when they decided to pull over to try to figure out the address book on my new Chinese cell phone. I was slightly discouraged when they too couldn’t figure out the keypad, which is in Chinese.

Upon returning to the hotel I was presented with a large Pee-Wee Herman-style bicycle for use in further explorations of the city.

I crashed for the next 4 hours, waking up partially rejuvenated. My contacts had arranged for a meal of chopped up chicken and mushrooms and steamed bread to be delivered to my room. Women have called and are knocking on my door and ringing my doorbell as I write this. I don’t answer, as instructed.