Week 1

Hello from China! Today is Tuesday, September 2, 2014. I arrived safely very late Friday night, after a long and tedious flight. Hell would be not fire and brimstone but rather a never-ending flight stuck in a seat in the economy section beside one large person, another who is playing a disgusting movie on a laptop without earphones, and behind a third person who insists on reclining the seat back to its fully extended position. My seatmates were actually two quite nice fellows who were much more considerate. The occupant of the seat in the row in front was not so.

 The flight from Seoul to Dalian was delayed due to weather and therefore arrived very late. Friends and a colleague were waiting when I cleared immigration; the friends presented a welcome gift of fruit, mooncakes and tea, and the colleague quickly relieved me of the luggage. By 12:30 am I was in my room at the university hostel. Saturday consisted mostly of unpacking belongings and a trip to a nearby store for a few necessities, including water. 

 A word or two here about water. When traveling in some foreign countries, it’s best not to drink the water. China, unfortunately, is one of those countries. Even the Chinese don’t drink the water that comes from the tap; they boil it or buy it in bottles. Water, therefore, has become a precious commodity not to be wasted. Water for hot drinks or washing dishes comes from the tap, but is boiled first. Water for drinking and brushing teeth comes from a bottle. I have no qualms about buying and drinking bottled water, since I want to stay healthy; regretfully, there isn’t any provision for recycling the plastic bottles—hence the growing collection in my room.

 Meals are provided by the university in a dining hall for faculty. The food is good, if not exciting. The meal that takes getting used to is breakfast; it doesn’t look anything like a typical American or English breakfast or even a European continental breakfast. The most recognizable parts are the hard boiled eggs and millet porridge, which is a sort of watery gruel. Bread is included in the form of pale rolls that have been steamed rather than baked and which tastes rather bland. The odd additions are the pickled vegetables of the kind one might see on a salad bar—wax and green beans in a vinegary dressing and the like. 

The ingredient that most everything seems to have is salt. Lots of salt. Chinese friends think American food is too sweet; Chinese food is definitely too salty. At lunch Sunday, I chose a cold noodle bowl to which the server added generous portions of several kinds of sauces, including soy sauce. When he also reached for the salt I motioned with my hand not to add it. The server’s eyes widened in surprise and he mimed adding the salt. Despite my gestures to the contrary, the server added a generous teaspoon of salt. The dish was quite tasty, but way too salty.

 Adjusting to the time change has been a bit of a challenge. The first night I logged only three hours after having been up for more than 30 (sleeping upright on an airplane is a non-event). Subsequent nights were better but have included wakefulness at 2 am for an hour or more followed by only an hour more of sleep. Consequently, 8 pm finds me unable to keep my eyes open. Eight hours is eight hours regardless of when they take place, right? So it’s nearly bedtime. Check back in a day or two for the next installment of the China Adventure—a trip to Wal-Mart.

 Regards,

D.