Tag Archives: Chinese

12 Days of Christmas- FSI Style

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12  Days of Christmas- FSI Style

On the first day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
An overworked iPad Pleco app

On the second day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the third day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the fourth day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the fifth day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Five hours of class,
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the sixth day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Six indistinguishable characters,
Five hours of class,
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the seventh day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Seven students a-swearing,
Six indistinguishable characters,
Five hours of class,
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the eighth day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Eight laoshi-s a-correcting,
Seven students a-swearing,
Six indistinguishable characters,
Five hours of class,
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the ninth day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Nine uses of “le”,
Eight laoshi-s a-correcting,
Seven students a-swearing,
Six indistinguishable characters,
Five hours of class,
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the tenth day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Ten Area Studies lectures,
Nine uses of “le”,
Eight laoshi-s a-correcting,
Seven students a-swearing,
Six indistinguishable characters,
Five hours of class,
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Eleven pounds of textbooks,
Ten Area Studies lectures,
Nine uses of “le”,
Eight laoshi-s a-correcting,
Seven students a-swearing,
Six indistinguishable characters,
Five hours of class,
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
the State Department sent to me
Twelve holiday memos,
Eleven pounds of textbooks,
Ten Area Studies lectures,
Nine uses of “le”,
Eight laoshi-s a-correcting,
Seven students a-swearing,
Six indistinguishable characters,
Five hours of class,
Four dreaded tones,
Three toiling classmates,
Two daily shuttles,
And an overworked iPad Pleco app

Wii-kends are for Playing

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After what seemed like a never-ending week of Chinese in which I attempted to wrap my mind around the ever elusive change-of-situation “le” particle, and was privy to such useful information as the term for godmother also doubles as a common term of endearment used by prostitutes for their madams, some downtime was definitely needed.

A good friend (and fellow China Returned Peace Corps Volunteer), John Park, just purchased a Wii. With weekend looming, along with John and Erin Townsend (also fellow China RPCVs),  we all figured it was the perfect time for that little white box to see some action. Before tackling the games of skill and prowess, we thought a few authentic Chinese dishes might get things off to a good start.

There is a lovely little restaurant in Falls Church that has a bit of a split personality.  In large neon letters, it advertises itself as Hong Kong Palace, with is a pretty normal name for a Chinese restaurant in the US.  The only problem with that is, the smaller, yet still neon, Chinese characters on that same sign say Chengdu, which is decidedly not Hong Kong. Nearby, in one of the front widows, yet another neon sign advertises the store as Small Chengdu Restaurant. Now, not only are Hong Kong and Chengdu more than 800 miles apart, but their food is quite unique as well.  I guess the thinking is that to Americans, Chinese food is Chinese food, so it is best to pick a well-known city with which to advertise. Then, to pull in the Chinese customers, a more accurate description of the culinary style is provided.  (It really isn’t that odd of a concept I suppose. As Americans, most of us would probably make a distinction between southern food and that of the north, but to visitors from other countries, it could all be easily labeled “American.”)

With bellies full eggplant, spicy noodles, green beans and rice, it was time to Wii it up!

If you’ve been following this blog, you have read of my exploits as a softball player. For those of you new to In Search of the End of the Sidewalk, it only lasted one season and mostly consisted of me warming the bench. That stupendous athletic ability extends to nearly everything I do that requires any amount of coordination. (Again, frequent readers will remember that I was no more than ten minutes into my first motorcycle riding class when I found myself pinned to the asphalt by a couple hundred pounds of shiny metal.) Sadly, as I recently learned, Wii takes a wee bit of coordination. That does not bode well for me or for anyone unlucky enough (John T.) to be saddled with me as a teammate.

The evening’s events began with bowling. I was lucky enough to be blessed with a fabulously shiny gold bowling ball, which I think was my secret weapon. While my score was only a little higher than what I would rack up in a real life bowling alley, I came out on top after ten frames. (I think I may have only won by two points, but considering that was the only time all night I didn’t earn the no-so-coveted fourth place position, I want it to be remembered that a win is a win!)

From bowling, it was on to doubles tennis. Poor John T. got stuck with me as his partner for the ensuing matches.  I quickly discovered that I have adequate serving abilities, but that is where any slight aptitude ends. Not only could I not hit the dumb little yellow ball to save my life, more than once I somehow forgot that we were playing a game and not just watching TV. It wasn’t until after the ball sailed by my cute purple clad Mii that I realized I should have taken a swing.  I was so into watching the action I totally forgot that I was supposed to be taking part in the action.

When I did remember to participate and potentially help my partner out, I did so with full effort and enthusiasm. While some too-cool-for-school Wii players may master the art of minute gesticulations, I was all in! It takes a powerful swing to hit a tennis ball from one end of a court to the other, so gaming device strapped to my wrist or not, I was swinging for the stands!

Bowling and tennis were really just warm-ups for the evenings main event- Wii dancing!  It is important to bear in mind, not only do I lack an inherent sense of coordination, I am also totally devoid of rhythm.  Put these two things together, add Britney Spears and let the chaos reign! It may not have been pretty and I may have lost to everyone, every dance, including when John T. played as he lounged on the couch, but it was a blast! Not only did I wiggle and waggle to some Black Eyed Peas and LMFAO, but I got to watch Thad and John P. battle it out as robots busting out some pretty spastic moves.  I am not sure which of them ended up with the most points, but I am positive that those of us watching were the winners!

It is very possible that I logged more hours on the Wii last Friday night that I have spent on video games in my entire life. I may have set up  a permanent Occupy Fourth Place camp that would bow to nothing less than pepper spray,  and I may have pulled a muscle or two during unintentional spastic moments, but there is no doubt that Wii night was the perfect end to a gray matter melting week of Chinese study.

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Radioactive Bananas

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As Thad continues, on a daily basis, to unravel the intricacies of Mandarin Chinese, occasionally making his teachers cringe with pronouncements such as “The puppy must depend on the bitch,” I have also occasionally ventured into the buildings that comprise FSI (the Foreign Service Institute). I can’t speak for generations of spouses before me, but one thing that the Foreign Service is really doing well now is making sure that the accompanying family members of the officers are well-educated.  They have an entire department set up for this purpose alone.  Through these offices, I have been able to sign-up for and attend an array of classes, including ones on what life is “really” like in the Foreign Service and one all about the details of the various allowances the government has set aside for diplomatic officers, but doesn’t necessarily hand out unless they are requested.  Good information to have in my back pocket.

My time of casually attending these classes is quickly drawing to a close though, as the last day of October is not only my least favorite holiday in the whole world, but also the start to my scheduled Chinese classes. (Seriously- I preferred getting smacked with a cow stomach blown up like a balloon during Carnival when I lived in the Dominican Republic to the abundance of costumed teenagers standing at my door looking for a candy handout and the ubiquitous “sexy” anything and everything. For women the country-over, this seems to be a holiday designed to let out any latent street-walker leanings.  As a side note- little trick-or-treaters are fabulous and cute!)

A couple of weeks and a huge list of possible classes to attend don’t mesh well, so I quickly signed up for the ones that I could squeeze into my remaining time.  Information gleaned off of building-mates in the elevator and other spouses lead me to believe that the one “must-have” class was the Security Overseas Seminar.  It is designed to be a two day course covering basic security concerns for posts worldwide.  It sounded important.  It sounded practical.  It sounded interesting.  I signed up.

It was all of those things and more.  It was terrifying.  It was paranoia-creating. It should be renamed “101 Ways to Die in the Foreign Service,” although I am not sure this would draw the same clientele that the current, mundane “Security Overseas Seminar” does.  (The course is required for all diplomats, so Thad does get the pleasure of attendance at some point this winter.)

Rather than going into great detail about all of the sessions and the possibilities for harm that await us abroad, I have compiled a short list of things I learned over my two days of attendance.

***In case of situation where decontamination is necessary, my clothes will be cut off of me by trained staff. I will then be soaped down in an effort to get all contamination off my body.  Contamination tends to cling to hair.  I will be given a sponge and told to take care of these areas myself.  If I do not do a sufficient job, I will be given a second chance.  If again this cleaning is not adequate, the staff will instruct me to take a wide stance and look at the sky (apparently this minimizes embarrassment) while they do the job for me. This is good to know.  I will make sure my first two attempts are quite thorough!

***Radiation is a daily part of life. Our TVs and microwaves give off radiation. We all travel and get doses of radiation from the airport.  People should not freak out each time FOX News goes on a 24-hour news cycle binge about cellphone radiation.  Even bananas contain radiation.  How many bananas would I need to eat to be harmed by it?  ALL of them!

***In case of an evacuation, I should always have a “Go-Bag” ready. This should be packed with basic items such as a change of clothes, some non-perishable snack items, and copies of important documents, as well as some American cash. We did not have one of these in Peace Corps and when we were told we were being evacuated post-earthquake, we had just a few minutes to grab what we would need for an indefinite stay away from our post. In that time of uncertainty, I grabbed my all-important stuffed monster, Zugly, that I have had since I was in about the second grade and somehow my Cleveland  Browns shirt, a lovely “gift” from friends at home,  made it into the backpack as well. (For those of you not aware, I HATE the Cleveland Browns.  The reasons why are long and a little complicated, but to sum it up, I can’t handle the fact that a team named the Browns uses orange as their main color and that they have a set of outfits that make them look just like a bunch of Tootsie Rolls when they don them.) If I remember correctly, Thad’s backpack carried the laptop, but also a crucial addition of Doritos that we had recently acquired from outside of town.  A pre-planned Go-Bag is probably a good thing for the Ross family!

***Many posts are extremely cold. I may not jerry-rig a brick with a heating element to create my own personal foot-warmer.  Apparently, the heat from this will be enjoyed by the fire inspection staff from Washington DC and once they are properly warmed, they will unplug it and take it away from me. (Yes, it happened.  Yes, the instructor had the brick with him.)

***When I move into my new home, if it is an apartment building, I should often take the stairs. This is not only good for my health. Knowing who lives (yes, you read that correctly!) in my stairwell and making acquaintances with these people can be to my advantage.  Good to know!

Is this an exhaustive list of what I learned at SOS this last week?  Nope, but it does give a taste of what the class is like. I now know where the best places to be in case of a possible bomb are (it naturally boils down to “as far away as possible”) and how to circumvent questions that seem to be a bit too inquisitive about embassy life (“Why did you ask me that?” apparently shuts things down pretty quickly).

With that under my belt, I’ve got just a bit of time off and then I’ll be joining Thad in his attempt to curtail the inadvertent swearing in Mandarin!