I woke up, my first morning in China, to the sound of a loud knock and angry sounding Mandarin at my hostel door. No peep hole in sight, I opened the door cautiously. There stood the tallest Chinese man I had ever seen, measuring 6' 6", at least, holding a medium sized UPS box. He was visibly irritated. It took a second to realize this wasn't yet another weird, flight induced dream.
The pathetic language-less westerner that I am, all I could utter was Ni hao! 你好! He didn't appreciate the attempt, but rather pushed the box towards my face, continuously pointing at a figure in yuan with his Shrek like fingers. Doesn't take a genius to interpret the universal 'give me my money' signal. 190 yuan worth of tax?!?! For one UPS box sent from the US?!?? I didn't know the exact conversion, but this was more than a private room costs...we truly ARE China's bitch, I thought!
Politics aside, I still had this massive Chinese guy to deal with. And having been in China for exactly 8 hours, I had no yuan on hand. This, I knew, he'd like even less than waking me up. I did what every westerner does when language barriers exist...I grunted and made the no money hand motion. My Chinese UPS friend became livid. He yelled, hand motions a nice extra, and insisted I follow him. Down four flights of stairs we went and then...straight out the hostel door. I didn't dare ask but I assumed, hoped, we were en route to the nearest ATM.
My first view of Beijing was somewhat blocked by the giant that walked in front of me. There I was, hair disheveled, no jacket on, flip flopping behind this angry man in 50 degree weather for several Beijing blocks. I must've been a sight to see. I've been stared at as a tourist many times before; random folks have asked me to take photos with them on countless occasions. But this, this was a different kind of stare...the type the Lohans of the world must get after a major fuck up.
After what felt like hours, we finally reached the ATM. The UPS man yelled something, pointed at the machine, and then, respectfully, turned away. I inserted the card and quickly realized that I was about to have my first crash course in Chinese characters.
It's funny how quickly a desperate brain can recall the positioning of buttons on ATM withdrawal screens. After following button paterns engrained over the years, I was filled with glee when numeric figures, ones I recognized, popped up on the screen. The only issue was, I hadn't yet learned the conversion rate. Let's see...A private room costs 160 yuan, which is approximately $25 dollars, so 200 yuan must be...beep, beep, beep...the ATM began to scream.
I could feel the no longer respectful UPS man's glare on my back. Fearing the ATM would eat my card, which would probably be a UPS offense punishable by death in China, I hit the biggest number on the screen and hoped it didn't exceed the available amount. As the money began to rush out, oh sweet sound, I cracked a smile, feeling somewhat like a new graduate.
I handed Chinese UPS guy 200 yuan. He seemed somewhat pleased. He handed me 10 yuan and started to walk away. He didn't indicate so, but I hoped this meant he was walking me back to the hostel. Truth be told, I had no idea where it was. I might as well have been sleepwalking to that ATM. The paranoia of flip flopping through Beijing, screaming my hostel's name began to spread....Sanlitun...
I breathed a massive sigh of relief when I caught a glimpse of the ghetto blue neon Sanlitun sign in the distance. The UPS guy walked me to the entrance and then, without a word, turned around and walked away.
Xie Xie (谢谢) I yelled, my western niceties kicking in. He turned around, gave me the universal farewell hand gesture, and would you believe it, the giant even cracked a smile! Good morning China, I thought.
The pathetic language-less westerner that I am, all I could utter was Ni hao! 你好! He didn't appreciate the attempt, but rather pushed the box towards my face, continuously pointing at a figure in yuan with his Shrek like fingers. Doesn't take a genius to interpret the universal 'give me my money' signal. 190 yuan worth of tax?!?! For one UPS box sent from the US?!?? I didn't know the exact conversion, but this was more than a private room costs...we truly ARE China's bitch, I thought!
Politics aside, I still had this massive Chinese guy to deal with. And having been in China for exactly 8 hours, I had no yuan on hand. This, I knew, he'd like even less than waking me up. I did what every westerner does when language barriers exist...I grunted and made the no money hand motion. My Chinese UPS friend became livid. He yelled, hand motions a nice extra, and insisted I follow him. Down four flights of stairs we went and then...straight out the hostel door. I didn't dare ask but I assumed, hoped, we were en route to the nearest ATM.
My first view of Beijing was somewhat blocked by the giant that walked in front of me. There I was, hair disheveled, no jacket on, flip flopping behind this angry man in 50 degree weather for several Beijing blocks. I must've been a sight to see. I've been stared at as a tourist many times before; random folks have asked me to take photos with them on countless occasions. But this, this was a different kind of stare...the type the Lohans of the world must get after a major fuck up.
After what felt like hours, we finally reached the ATM. The UPS man yelled something, pointed at the machine, and then, respectfully, turned away. I inserted the card and quickly realized that I was about to have my first crash course in Chinese characters.
It's funny how quickly a desperate brain can recall the positioning of buttons on ATM withdrawal screens. After following button paterns engrained over the years, I was filled with glee when numeric figures, ones I recognized, popped up on the screen. The only issue was, I hadn't yet learned the conversion rate. Let's see...A private room costs 160 yuan, which is approximately $25 dollars, so 200 yuan must be...beep, beep, beep...the ATM began to scream.
I could feel the no longer respectful UPS man's glare on my back. Fearing the ATM would eat my card, which would probably be a UPS offense punishable by death in China, I hit the biggest number on the screen and hoped it didn't exceed the available amount. As the money began to rush out, oh sweet sound, I cracked a smile, feeling somewhat like a new graduate.
I handed Chinese UPS guy 200 yuan. He seemed somewhat pleased. He handed me 10 yuan and started to walk away. He didn't indicate so, but I hoped this meant he was walking me back to the hostel. Truth be told, I had no idea where it was. I might as well have been sleepwalking to that ATM. The paranoia of flip flopping through Beijing, screaming my hostel's name began to spread....Sanlitun...
I breathed a massive sigh of relief when I caught a glimpse of the ghetto blue neon Sanlitun sign in the distance. The UPS guy walked me to the entrance and then, without a word, turned around and walked away.
Xie Xie (谢谢) I yelled, my western niceties kicking in. He turned around, gave me the universal farewell hand gesture, and would you believe it, the giant even cracked a smile! Good morning China, I thought.
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