Soft landing (more tips for an easy transition to Beijing)

Final thoughts on Beijing:

• Guanxi – if you don’t have an iTouch or iPhone with one of the brilliant taxi card apps, then this handy SMS service will see you heading off in the right direction in at least Beijing and Shanghai. Send the name of the place, street etc you are looking for to 106695882929  and the service will send you a list of options. You select the correct one and can opt to receive the address in Chinese characters.
• Problems with your internet connection? If the problems aren’t related to the fact you’ve been cut off from paying a bill you didn’t know you owed, China Unicom‘s helpline dial 10086 (which is surprisingly helpful) can be accessed in English by hitting option 2. They aim to send someone out same day. On a related note, ask at your bank  and mobile phone provider for the English language helpline number.
• With all the politically sensitive anniversaries in 2009, the escalating row with Google, and proof of the power of Twitter in Iran, the Chinese government is in no mood for chances. Over the last few months the powers that be have been systematically cracking down on the free sites that allow access to the “real”, uncensored internet and social networking sites remain blocked. As an expat count yourself lucky you have access to foreign credit cards and so a way around this. Get thee a VPN provider ASAP. I’ve been impressed with the level of service offered by Witopia who were really helpful when even my VPN  stopped working during the Uighur riots over the summer.
• If you’ll be using the subway or the bus network (and really, why wouldn’t you? It is not difficult) try to get yourself one of the blue, rechargeable IC cards, Beijing’s answer to London’s Oyster card. These can only be bought at special counters in the subway and as often as not there is no-one there. If you hang around, someone will usually materialise. From memory, the card needs a deposit of 20 kuai and then it is up to you how much you add.
• As much as I love Jenny Lou, try to find your local Jingkalong and market and save a bundle on fruit and veg, spices and noodles. It is also a good chance to practice your Chinese, at least the numbers. Inevitably you’ll be something of an attraction and receive free bunches of herbs as gifts. Don’t follow Mr B’s example and fall for very expensive imported fruits, however. Ahem.
• If you can’t find that crucial western foodstuff, try City Shop near the US Embassy. It is pricey but when you are desperate, it is great. Expat urban legend says if you can’t find it anywhere else in the city, it will be here. We found a frozen turkey here on Christmas Eve and thus averted a catastrophe. It is also great for frozen vegetarian food and baby food. Apparently.
• Expat wives in need of career advice can do no better than talk to Sarah Cooper at Cows From My Window. A font of calm and good advice.

A word on etiquette in Beijing’s crowded spaces, notably the subway and lifts (elevators). The unspoken rule for both of these situations is layering. When entering the subway at rush hour, unless you plan to get out at the next station, you should push your way back or towards the middle of the carriage. You’ll notice that approaching each station a shuffling dance ensues whereby those getting off push towards the doors and everyone else steps back. The same in elevators. Push the button for your floor on entering the doors (not when you’ve found an empty spot) and then arrange yourself accordingly. If you want a top floor, you should be standing at the back, if you want a low floor try to stay near the doors.

Finally, and then I’ll go, for an insight into local vs expat tension, check out this recent discussion. Mr B and I can’t decide whether the article is a Chinese attempt at irony or simply aggressive posturing in bad taste but the reactions from the expat and local communities alike are illuminating.

Urban Legand Investigated

Given it is a big city, there are a good number of urban legands floating around the expat community in Beijing. One of the most intriguing we’ve heard since we first arrived was about the popularity of Ikea.

Nothing new there. Ikea is a weekend-gobbler the world over. The Beijing store is the largest outside Sweden so amply able to deal with large crowds.

Our interest was piqued, however, by the reported behaviour of the Chinese visitors. Expats gleefully reported seeing people sleeping in the beds, reading on the sofas and, best of all, that a significant number of dates took place in Ikea’s kitchens.

The roots of this lie in the fact young people almost always live with their parents until they are married and suffer from a real lack of privacy. Ikea is an ideal solution – lots of space and nice surroundings with the bonus of clean air!

Mr B and I determined we had to see for ourselves if the urban legend had any truth. And it does. It does!

Mr B even managed to capture some of the action…

First date in Ikea kitchen, Beijing

Couple snuggle up on couch at Ikea, Beijing

Friends hanging out, Ikea Beijing

Beijing-based  journalists are also getting in on the legand, the LA Times has a great article about  the role of air conditioning in Ikea’s popularity during the summer.

Check out this fascinating phenomenon for yourselves if you have the chance!

Everyone knows this

A couple of weeks ago, while I was minding my own business online, our broadband access went out. For expats, the internet is akin to a vital  biological function, like breathing. When it disappears inexplicably it is never good.

After much poking at wires and turning off and on of the router, (pretty much the sum total of my technical expertise right there) Mr B, who arrived home in blissful ignorance of this unfolding domestic drama, promptly copped the flak.

It turns out our landline bill has not been paid.

Since we moved in.

In June.

Apparently, even though we’ve never used it and even though ADSL service is part of our rent, a monthly fee has to be paid for a landline in order to keep the ADSL on. After a mercifully short excursion to China Unicom where one employee spoke enough English to help me fill out the myriad forms in Chinese characters, we were told to wait a week and then service would be resumed.

My problem with this is not that we were cut off. That’s normal for non payment of bills. What is totally baffling is that we have not received a single bill, reminder notice, or in fact ANY kind of communication from China Unicom telling us this was coming.

When I mentioned this little episode to one of the very helpful employees in our building, she looked at me as if I came from another planet. Which in many ways I do.

Her response was, “but everybody knows that around 20th of the month bills must be paid!”

“Even though there is no bill sent? No reminders? And there is no mention of this in any of our contracts?”

“Yes, of course. This is China. Everybody knows this is how it works here,” she confirmed.

Everybody except a remedial wife it seems.

First Impressions

We’ve arrived in the Middle Kingdom…

Slightly shell-shocked by the sheer modernity of Beijing after the chaos and laissez-faire atmosphere of Mumbai.

I am trying very hard to keep an open mind and a cheerful demeanour. As a good expat wife should.

I am trying very hard not to think too much about my friend A’s words as he headed back to London from the wilds of Eastern Europe – after a while, expat life loses its air of adventure, “because you get tired of always having to start again”.

Over the last few days, we’ve:

• Done the obligatory visit to Tian’anmen Square (crazily crowded for the May Day holiday, impressive massive portrait of Mao. Looking forward to seeing the Forbidden City.) We’ve also gone into some back streets in search of the traditional courtyard homes called Hutongs.
• Been ripped off by an “art student” selling calligraphy scrolls for a “language exchange” to N. America (Mr B denies this but let’s remember, it was he who also got cornered by the ear-cleaning man in Mumbai). I satisfied myself by playing sceptical and scathing and bored wife, thereby gaining huge amounts of sympathy for Mr B and knocking the price down by 500RMB in the process.
• Checked out housing (much more swish here, much more scarily compound – the kinds of places where you can shop, eat, exercise and socialise with 600 other foreign families and never, ever leave – where have these mountains of foreigners come from? There are thousands of expats here! Mr B and I are quite overwhelmed with it!)
• Navigated our way around the subway, feeling quietly proud of ourselves in the process (thank you S&S for the basic Chinese symbols, they’ve come in v.handy).
• Rejoiced that the Olympics seems to have resulted in English signage all over the city. We were especially relieved to find that ATMs don’t launch straight into Mandarin as we were warned. Although we still needed a translator to sign up for a mobile phone.
• Learned the words for hello/how are you and thank you. I can also pick out the symbols for Exit, North, West, Gate and Person which has made me feel smug and far too pleased with myself. I have also nagged Mr B in to the habit of handing over money using 2 hands.
• Survived our required government health check to get our visas sorted out (mercifully well organised, although, I do not understand the relevance of checking for colour blindness, or why we were asked to disclose if we had ever had rabies, but not if we smoked or drank alcohol).

It is weird, hard, frustrating, disconcerting to start again but what to do?

Tomorrow we move in to an apart-hotel. I hope it will make me feel more settled.

Inconvenience Is Regretted?

Mumbai is a city under construction. Constant construction. It is needed to accommodate the ever-increasing numbers of people flocking to the Island City hoping to make their fortunes.

I was reminded of the fabulous Indian road sign (“inconvenience is regretted”, d’oh) that accompanies building work here, when we had it confirmed a few days ago that we are being moved.

This is probably the single biggest drawback to being an expat in the current economic environment.

We’re not the first and undoubtedly will not be the last people we know  in Mumbai to be moved to a more established market as companies re-jig themselves and try to survive.  We are counting ourselves lucky. We know of many people who have simply been made redundant and have headed home to face massive uncertainty.

Still, the speed of our move has come as shock to me – I feel as if I have only just settled back in from my time in Jakarta.

In a week’s time I am going to be waking up in China. And I love Mumbai! How on earth am I going to master Mandarin? And Beijing is Canada-cold for a good chunk of the year. I’ll miss monsoon. And Diwali! And there is no understanding of being veg there but at least it will get me out of eating weird things. I hope. And poor M does not have another job lined up. How on earth is he going to support his 5 kids?

These and many other thoughts are preoccupying me at the moment.

We’re now scrambling to re-visit favourite landmarks and restaurants and say our goodbyes. One of my stops is going to be the Ganesh temple at Prabadehvi. The god of the city is the remover of obstacles and  also of good times. Perhaps a coconut offering will bring us back again here some day? Somehow I don’t feel as if we’re done with Mumbai quite yet. Is that just wishful thinking?

Wife School Lesson For the Day: Supervising the packing and finding a new place to live and unpacking and getting the utilities set up AGAIN (this time there is no English language option on tap) are very definitely wifely duties. Sigh. The Beijing Chapter of Wife School beckons.

Society Affair

All blocks of flats in Mumbai are governed by the Society – an august gathering of residents who dictate the rules and regulations by which the rest of us must abide.

There is something similar in Belgium that I remember our friends J & F grappling with.

I guarantee the Indian version takes it to a new dimension. Our apartment complex is dominated by Gujarati diamond merchants (who have homes in Antwerp and New York too, naturally), a few diplomats, and rich industrialists.

Largely, Mr B and I ignore the notices announcing Society meetings, which inevitably close with the immortal line “residents are kindly requested to make the convenience to attend”.

For my own amusement as much as anything else, here are extracts from 2 of our favourite Society missives to date:

1. (19th Dec 2008) “Our building is very famous and about 10 foreigners are residing here. Hence it is at a grave risk of attack from the terrorists. It is very easy for the very well trained terrorists to kill the guards, enter the building and start killing people. Hence the entrance of the parking lot and lobby should be fully protected by adding barbed wires and other sharp pointed iron roads (sic) going up to a height of 15 ft. The place of guard at the gate should be totally attack proof. For this we should consult some good security expert. I hope immediate action will be taken by the Society on this very critical subject”.

2. (4th March 2009) “It has been noticed that food-stuffs, water mixed with oil, cigarettes (sic) butts are thrown from flats on the podium level. More specifically, it has been observed that Tower A (we’re Tower B!) side, oil mixed with water is regularly thrown from the kitchen area invariably in the morning. Residents are requested to instruct their domestic staff to refrain from doing such acts. In some flats, clothes are put out on the railing of balconies to dry. With a desire not to mar the beauty and aesthetics of the building, members may kindly instruct their staff not to hang the clothes to dry on the railings. Many cars go at high speed from Tower B to Tower A which is a potential cause for accident. Members may kindly instruct their drivers to observe speed discipline”.

The British, with their love of rules and bureaucracy, have a lot to answer for.