Stamped and Cleared

The Red Stamp. Yes, it seems a bit archaic - the entire Chinese business system still revolves around the placement and authentification of red stamps.

The number and intricacy of the stamp depends on what you're trying to get done:
Buy a sweater from an small shop: 2 stamps
Purchase a hair dryer at a supermarket: 6 stamps
Open a bank account: 12 stamps
Apply for a residency permit in Beijing: 18 stamps
Lease an apartment: 22 stamps
and the most complicated of all, receive money from Western Union: 38 stamps.

That's right, it took me 4 hours and 38 stamps to receive my tuition money at the bank from Western Union. In addition to all the stamping, I had to photocopy my passport four times and fill out three separate forms (each in triplicate copy) of my name and every shred of identifying information I have. After jumping through several other hoops of passwords, passnumbers, and passcodes, they finally handed over three inch high stacks of cash, held together by paper strips with official red stamps, in a paper bag, closed and sealed with a red stamp.

Home Sweet Beijing Home

For the past month I've been on pins and needles waiting for my roommate Allison to arrive in Beijing. Though living in the dorm wasn't bad per se, it was certainly lacking something as a living space...like color, decorations, internet, storage space, refrigerator, laundry facilities, kitchen, water cooler, and most importantly, sound. After living in the Grove I'm not accustomed to a house without people, and the daily silence was beginning to freak me out.

As soon as Allison arrived in Beijing (4:00 PM), I moved her bags into my dorm room and instead of resting, we went apartment shopping. Chinese apartment shopping is quite a process. Basically, you go to any realtor and ask for apartments in a specific location. Within ten minutes you're already on your way to scope out the choices. Beginning with the cheapest apartment first, you walk to the location and peek inside. After discussing basic things like, "can we get rid of the red and gold temple carpet" and the fact that we need beds in both bedrooms (yes, we had to ask), the realtor asks if you want it. No, not if you like it, if you want it....right then. No looking around, no walking around the neighborhood, no meeting neighbors, just a decision. In their crazy minds, if you like an apartment and it will work, why look at others? Especially others that are more expensive?

We bucked the system, asked to see the 36$ more expensive apartment, and loved it. Our only hesitation was the small size of the refrigerator (a complaint that was countered by our realtor with "no, this is good, you can lose some weight.")

Hoping that you will make a quick decision and stop bothering them, realtors often tell this kind of story: "You're actually the fourth person to look at this apartment today. One guy is coming back in the morning at nine to decide, so if you want it, you need to decide before he does." Now, there's no way to tell when this is a story or when they're really telling the truth. Scared of losing the apartment that we really liked, we took a breath and forked over the cash. By 10:00 PM that night, we were no longer homeless.

With the efficiency of apartment hunting, you would think that we would have been settled soon after. This, however, is a different story. Number one priority was turning on the fridge and stocking diet coke (done), but we're still working on gas, electricity, phone, wireless internet, police registration, foreigner tax payment, a couch, sheets, a rug, wall decorations, candles, a water cooler, a water delivery service, a toaster oven, a desk, a desk chair, etc. My head is buzzing with papers, receipts, cards, and red stamps. It's a pain now, but will worth it when we're done.

A Pauper No More

As my mother prepared to pack her bags for China, I gave her strict instructions to pack lightly in a small backpacker's pack so that it would be easy for us to travel using the public buses, trains, and ox-carts. She did quite well, and when she arrived at the airport, she had a bright red pack full of all her daily needs.

However, rolling right behind her was bag number two, a big black rolling bag clearly weighed down and bulging slightly on the sides. Some would have expected me to scold her gluttonous packing, but instead she received kisses and many thanks as I tore into the suitcase packed with items I had requested from home. Aside from chips and salsa, I haven't really felt homesick for anything "American" so far. However, when I realized that my mom could literally bring me anything I wanted, I think I went a bit overboard in my requests.

Upon unpacking and sorting these 50+ American items, the net volume of my personal possessions and clothing increased by at least 100%. Let's just say that I'm ecstatic about my recent acquisitions:

1. I finally have shoes that fit, long pants, machine washable sweaters, sports bras, and shirts that come past my belly button (I'm apparently both fat and have a long torso according to Chinese standards).
2. Thin, hose-like socks weren't cutting it for my afternoon jogs in the park, so I had my mom bring a dozen pair of hanes plain athletic socks - my feet feel like they are resting on pillows.
3. I relocated my eyes and cheekbones after the arrival of my make-up bag and have honestly noticed a difference today in the number of people who stop to take my picture (is it just me, or is taking a point blank picture of a stranger a bit rude?). I, and everyone around me, are very excited about what a little blush, eyeliner, and powder can do.
4. We're lucky no one searched my mother's bags in customs lest they accuse her of plans to open a tampon dispensary in Beijing - a girlfriend and I had put in orders for a year's supply. Though you can sometimes find Playtex at a specialty import store, at a price of $11.00 USD per 20 tampon pack, this is an expensive monthly habit in Beijing.
5. Yes, it's Wal-mart crap, but to me, it's American-made gold: degree deoderant, a bottle of peppermint tums, another bottle of tums, unisom, ginger pills, burt's bees wax, wall putty, a pocket calender planner, and vitamins with a label I can read.
6. Those of you who know my sweet tooth, know that I couldn't resist an opportunity to receive homemade baked goods. My mother made her special brownies with butterscotch chips which I have been eating for breakfast everyday. Don't worry, my thighs could use a bit of extra padding after SE Asia.

I no longer have to do laundry every six days and finally have antacid for post-chinese meals. I wear make-up, jewelry, and have fashionable shoes. I think the daily stares I receive have gone from "that poor poor girl" to "did she win the lottery and have some sort of surgery?" Needless to say, I'm one happy American.

My mom and I will head out to backpack in and around Guilin, China tomorrow, so for tonight I'll slide on my new Reefs, grab my plain no sequin sweater from express, and head back to my newly Americanized abode to finish off the last of the brownies - I certainly couldn't let them go to waste.