"Oh That's Different" No. 3

In this latest rendition, I discover a word to yell when in trouble and a new type of locker room etiquette.

1. Energy-efficient escalators. My environmentally-friendly sister will love these! Chinese escalators seem really slow when you approach them until you step on and the thing speeds up. It's brilliant and something the U.S. should use more frequently.

No idea if this is how much energy Beijing saves, but it's pretty cool!

A Christmas Tale

There aren't many Christians in China, or much religion at all, which I guess comes with the territory of having a one-party government.

Got lights?

Thanksgiving and a Birthday, Abroad

Thanksgiving is definitely my favorite holiday. I love the lack of commercialism and the fact that it's centered on eating and drinking with family and friends. 

Our delectable feast. 

A Trip to Ikea

With every new home there's stuff to buy, so we were thrilled to learn that Beijing has Ikea.

Like most Ikeas, this one was packed. Here are some fun photos from our day, which show a few differences between shopping in an American Ikea and a Chinese one. Take a gander.

The approach to Ikea!

The Home Saga

Dear readers, this is a bit of a long post.

After our initial house-hunting trip we zeroed in on our favorite place: a two-bedroom, two-bath home that's about 1,200-square-feet. It came with a washer and dryer, dishwasher and a garbage disposal -- something we haven't had in years in NYC.

Nia loves her new view.

After a slew of back and forth with the fickle landlord -- at the last minute he raised the rent by about $80 a month because, well, I guess he can do that -- we got the place. We were super happy and our move in, while hectic, seemed okay. After more than two months of living in temporary housing we were thrilled to have a place to call home.

And then we showered.

"Oh That's Different" No. 2

It's been about a month since we came to Beijing and here are a few other interesting tidbits about this city of 20 million.

1. Communal toilet paper. Okay, you don't actually share your pieces of TP, but when you go into the bathroom, there's often only one toilet paper holder, typically near the sinks. (I learned this the hard way when I entered a stall and a little too late realize there wasn't any TP around. Okay, TMI.) Maybe it's too expensive to put toilet paper holders and rolls in each stall?

At least there's not a one-piece-per-person rule.

International House Hunters: China Edition

After living in a temporary residence for almost a month to get our bearings of Beijing, we were finally ready to start the apartment search.

Despite my knowledge of U.S. real estate, I knew next to nothing about Chinese real estate and it's a bit different. One of the first things we were told by our relocation specialist was that real estate agents flat out lie -- particularly on their websites about unit pricing, just to get you to give them a call -- and that landlords are more fickle than a two year old. One minute the landlord may decide to rent his space and the next he could decide he doesn't want to, but fail to tell anyone about it, leaving the current tenant to deal with surprise guests (more on that later).

The other major thing in Beijing is that the market is ridiculously expensive. Let me repeat; it's expensive and this is coming from a New Yorker, who knows a one-bedroom can easily cost $2,500.

We're looking for a two-bedroom, two-bath, semi-furnished apartment and the places we saw ranged from under 900 square feet to a colossal 2,000-plus-square-foot duplex. Most of the kitchens don't have dishwashers or disposals (same as NYC) and water jug systems (think of the Culligan man back in the 1980s coming to your home) are quite common. Many of the places have wood or wood composite floors, wallpapered walls, railroad kitchens and built-in closets. Most of them are in decent condition, though a bit outdated, and could definitely use a personal touch.

Can the couch be recovered, please?

A Trip to the Pharmacy

Being under the weather in a different country ain't fun.

Scott had a cold earlier this week and passed it along to me. I went looking for throat lozenges and couldn't find any in several different places, so I decided to go to a pharmacy. Now, pharmacies here aren't like CVS or Walgreens in the U.S. They only sell over-the-counter medicine (no magazines, cards, lotion, etc.) and unfortunately, almost everything -- save for the Cialis, of course -- was written in Chinese.

Thanks to China's push to become a more service-driven economy, I walked in and immediately was pounced on by two or three different employees. They started speaking quickly in Chinese and I asked them to slow down. In my only-8-day-of-lessons Mandarin, I said, "I want" and then pointed to my throat and made a coughing noise. This drummed up another minute or so of quick discussion among the workers, which ended with one woman finally saying the word for "to drink", so I assumed she was asking if I wanted cough syrup. I shook my head and said the word for eat, because that's the closest verb to "suck on" I knew. They nodded, pulled a $6 box of medicine out from a cabinet and sent me on my way.

When I got home, I sat down and Googled my purchase. Nope, not throat lozenges. Pills for tonsillitis. China pharmacy fail.

It was only when I went to the 7-Eleven for a jug of water that I noticed Ricola just sitting there next to the candy. If I didn't already love 7-Eleven for their slurpees, this would've won me over.

Beijing Rush Hour

Before coming to China, I read about snaring traffic in Beijing, and this past week I experienced it in its full glory.

During rush hour, which begins around 4:30 or 5 p.m., it took Scott and me nearly an hour by cab to go five miles to get home. In other cities, you inch along in a car, at least feeling some sense of progress. Not in Beijing. We sat for a good five or 10 minutes and not a single car moved. Our cab driver got so annoyed that he stepped out of the car and just stood in the street, staring ahead at the mass of tail lights, as did other drivers. There was honking for no reason except for the "I'm really frustrated and pissed off" reason and light cycles went from green to red with no movement. And then, just as quickly as cars had stopped, they started moving again. No accident, no construction, no explanation of anything.

Sans driver: bad traffic leads our cabbie to get out and stand in the street.

Dreaming in Chinglish

I've gone to one week of Mandarin classes so far and my brain feels like mush.

My teacher is wonderful, a young 20-something who is from northeast China and I have one-on-one classes with her every day for two hours and then she gives me homework each night. The intensity makes my brain hurt. Each sentence I think about saying I think in English, then ask myself what's the Chinese word and then have to figure out the sentence structure. It takes me a good minute to say, "I like to eat noodles."

A view from my Chinese textbook.

The other night, I dreamt in Chinglish -- I'm not sure if that means my brain is learning the language or just getting confused. I was dreaming about some meal and I found myself saying things in my dream like, "The soup hen chi and the pi jiu fai chen he," (meaning the soup is tasty and the beer is very good). It was the weirdest experience ever. Scott, who has been taking Mandarin for three months now, said he had a similar Chinglish dream experience when he started classes, too.

"Oh, That's Different" No. 1

In the past week, I've had several instances when I just stop to think, oh, that's different. So I've decided to make a recurring feature on this blog of things that stick out to me. Here's the first installment:

1. Lame concessions, intense fans at sporting events. On Tuesday night, Scott and I went to watch Brazil take on Zambia in the Gillette-sponsored Brasil Global World Tour. It was held at the Bird's Nest, where many of the track and field events took place during the 2008 Olympics. We decided not to eat dinner because we thought there would be decent food and plenty of beer.

Outside the Bird's Nest.

The Work Hiatus

I'm not working at the moment and it's starting to drive me insane.

Eventually, I'll be freelancing for the Journal and hopefully a few other publications. But in China, a journalist must have a special visa to work and I don't have it yet; I'm trying to start the process of getting one, with the Journal as my sponsoring publication, but it's a dicey and fickle gauntlet that  takes several months for many reporters and editors. 

So while Scott goes off to work each day, I find myself in a weird position of housewife/cat-mother/newcomer. And I have absolutely no clue what to do.

There are mornings where I want to relish this "time off;" during my hectic weeks in New York, particularly leading up to the move, a day with nothing to do would've sounded incredible. But now, these days seem to almost be taunting me. I know I should set a schedule, get up and workout, do some laundry, check e-mails and start looking for freelance work, explore a new store or park, practice Mandarin (which I'm finally starting).

A Rotten Day

We were told by Scott's HR department that we would have breakdowns. Today feels like a mini-breakdown in that nothing seems to be going right.

I've been researching Mandarin language schools and everyone I've spoken to has recommended one on one classes, which are quite expensive for Beijing standards -- between $1,500 and $3,000 for 12 weeks of part time courses. I wouldn't feel bad spending that amount if I was working, but since I'm not yet, it's a big chunk of money for us and I'm feeling guilty. At the same time, I know my frustrations with this city won't get better at all until I start class. I feel compelled to keep looking for better prices (guess that's the Jew in me), but also wonder, at what point do you cut your losses and just put down the credit card -- if the school even takes credit cards?

Money has been a huge difficulty this first week. We opened an HSBC account in the U.S. but can't access it -- and, in turn, our Beijing HSBC account -- because some wires got crossed. To make matters worse, few places take credit cards, so we're hoarding our cash. There's always an uncomfortable feeling when you're tight on money, but more so in a foreign country where credit can't be used and our reserves can't be accessed.

Frog Legs and an Awesome MJ Tribute

Last night was the first time we actually ventured out and did something social -- partly because we finally are getting over the jet lag and aren't sleeping from 8 pm to midnight!

We started the night out at a great Sichuan restaurant near our place, where we got mapo tofu (I'm determined to learn how to make this amazing dish), duck legs and frog legs. I didn't even know Scott ordered the frogs until they showed up and, well, literally looked like frogs. I tried them -- I've told myself I'll be as adventurous as I can be with food -- but they were slimy and gooey. Scott, on the other hand, loved them.

Frog, anyone?

The Awe of Grocery Shopping

Yesterday, I had one goal: to go grocery shopping.

It sounds silly, but the basic tasks, as I've mentioned, can be pretty daunting without being able to communicate. Our temporary residence has a shuttle to several shopping centers and on the list was a Wal-Mart Supercenter. Say what you will about Wal-Mart, but this was a welcome destination and not only did it have dried goods, but an amazing selection of fresh produce, meats and many other Chinese foods that I didn't recognize at all.

The Wal-Mart at Wanda Plaza in Beijing.

It was interesting to see how food was presented and what was popular. There are large bins of rice with scoops and it only cost about 31 cents per unit (I wasn't clear what measurement was on the label, but it was cheap) and produce and meats are arranged like an open-air market. There are bins filled with raw chicken and beef and people just pick it up with their hands, examine it, plop it back down and pick up another piece. (I was too timid to go this route, and chose the packaged meat instead.) 

The cats are here!!!

My two cats, Nia and Paku, have arrived!!!

After several days of flying and a slew of e-mails back and forth, they are here safe and sound. They seem a bit out of it and are very whiny, but have figured out where the litter box is (though this crystal litter I got sounds awful and I'm not sure they like it) and don't seem too mad at me for flying them all over the place.

When we first talked about Beijing, I told Scott the cats had to come or it was a deal breaker for me. Since he's a wonderful husband, he negotiated with work (I'm guessing it cost between $5,000 and $7,000 to orchestrate this cat move) and the next thing we know we're not only figuring out paperwork for ourselves, but for the cats, too.

Lost in Beijing

I arrived in Beijing on Tuesday, October 8, 2013 with my husband Scott. After a 12.5 hour flight and $600 in overweight baggage fees, we made our way to our temporary residence, in the eastern Central Business District of the city. It was a sunny day -- a rare treat for the city because of the pollution -- though I could feel the grittiness and thick smog immediately. We settled in and ventured out for dinner, choosing a place only because it had pictures on the menu; not knowing the language yet has made for some adventures already (more on that later). The restaurant had a funny "Monday to Sunday" sign written on the wall and cheap bright purple velour seats. The food was delicious, though I'm not entirely sure what we ate.

Beijing skyline on a clear day -- really.

A brief background, for anyone who may not know why I'm here: Scott, who is a writer at Fortune Magazine, got the job to cover China for the publication and after discussing it, we thought why not. We're newly married, don't have kids, don't have a mortgage or even a car payment, so we thought now or never. I had some trouble grasping the idea; not because I don't like adventure, but because I felt I was giving up a lot -- a dream job at The Wall Street Journal that I had only settled into a year ago, a comfort with New York City being home, which had taken a good five years to realize, and a slew of good friends who have become family to us, since both our families aren't near Manhattan.