OK. OK. I'll turn down Elton singing "Circle of Life" so you can hear me. You know already that I have begun my language journey and my yoga journey. Not only is my brain all a-jumble, my body is now as well. Both exercises leave me feeling humbled about my adult self and my abilities. While I am trying to be all zen and in the moment, stretching my non-flexible muscles and joints both toward and away from the earth, new Mandarin phrases are bouncing around my mind disrupting my qi. After I practice downward gou, I yao qu ying hang. I place wo de you shou on wo de zuo thigh, ran hou wo qu jiu ba. I zhi dao how to breath with each movement, and how to ask for yi bei cha. (*you'll have to write me or call me for translation of my Chinglish!) It's exhausting, zhen de!
Last week was not all about new physical and mental anguish (which I am sure, with diligence, will eventually pay great dividends). The week was also about meeting new people, and enjoying the company of other laowai and Beijingers. Our few social ventures began on Tuesday when Z and I, along with Z's U.S. advisor and her husband, were invited to dinner by Z's Chinese advisor. Did you get that? Z's U.S. advisor and her husband were in town for a week, both of whom are friends with Z's Chinese advisor. There we were, at one big round table in a private room: four China experts plus me, enjoying the gastronomic splendors of Zhejiang cuisine. We chatted over small glasses of yellow wine, my eyes grew bigger and bigger each time another plate or bowl or heated vessel jostled for space at the table. In the end, we were served more than a dozen unique dishes, but we never finished one completely. So much food! So little room in our full bellies!
Most of the discussion was, of course, China related and about Z's studies. However, some of the dinner conversation led to questions about my activities in Beijing, and what I do to occupy my time. My answer to these types of queries always leaves me feeling a bit like a fresh faced college graduate. Exploring my options. Taking it easy. Reading for pleasure. Applying to grad school. Watching more YouTube and Hulu than ever before. Living off the fat of the land...etc. etc. No worries, Ma, I'm not going back to school again. Yet.
Thursday evening, the Beijinger, an ever resourceful online and print magazine serving the expat community, held its 9th anniversary party at a rooftop restaurant and lounge. For RMB99 it was all you could drink, so we did. Without sounding desperate, it was great to talk and laugh with other native English speakers other than my husband. With "free" drinks in hand and huddled under space heaters, good times were had by all! *If you look verrrry closely at the picture in the beijinger link, there's Z toward the back, on the right hand side at the bar in the plaid shirt! It's like looking for Where's Waldo!
Besides the great conversation, company and meals, I experienced an important lesson from last week's evenings out: Living in Beijing, it's all about the guanxi. Can't remember how to say "Where's the bathroom?" or "I lost my husband!" or "Did I miss the train?" Forget about it, and concentrate your energies on guanxi: the art of developing and maintaining personal networks and relationships in Chinese society. Yikes. PR 101 meets Beijing 101! There is even a wiki page about it. If there was a Chinese version of Will Smith, he'd have a hit pop rap record about guanxi, with DJ Jazzy Jeff spinning records by his side. The Donald Trump of Beijing would ooze guanxi, while the illusory Holden Caulfield would detest the very idea of guanxi. If ever there was a Chinese version of LinkedIn, you could connect through Guanxi Online. Am I driving home my point?
Later this week, I'll tell you all about where my first guanxi connections have led to, and the school for migrant children I was fortunate to visit. It had nothing to do with the new boots Z bought me. Until next time.
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