Acclimation

(1/18/07)

16 hours, 3 strange meals of Japan Airlines' finest in-flight delicacies, and 3 recent theatre-abandoned films later, I touched down in the People's Republic, sometime in the hour between 9 and 10pm locally. I introduce my journey in a manner mimicking The Beach, a film starring Leonardo DiCapprio of debatable quality, nonetheless a favorite of mine. The movie opens with Leo's voice-over measuring the length and time of his flight in units of 'plastic meals' and shitty movies. I couldn't resist.

Leaving the protective seal of the airport, I stepped out into the air of Beijing. It smelt vaguely of lingering firecracker scent, and since then has assumed many more smells: cooked yams (vaguely sweet like sweet potato fries) and a Venetian-canal odor emanating from bathroom doors or sewer vents.

My experiences in Beijing have been mostly experiences of acclimation: not flushing toilet paper, brushing teeth with bottled water, learning public transport, learning local accents, learning names of food, and dealing (or not dealing) with the internet--a result it seems of recent earthquakes off Taiwan, or so we assume.

Just in time for class, I caught a cold which has lasted several days and has already encouraged me to acclimate to another aspect of life on the northern plains: dryness. I don't know that I've drunk so much water and tea in my life. Tea, though, has wholly replaced coffee in my life, as cafes are rare and Starbucks a ridiculousness here in which I can't bear to participate.

Conception of price everyday grows more estranged to my life of before. A cup of coffee at Starbucks costs as much as 2 meals at any decent restaurant, at least. Indeed, I'm quickly acclimating to new prices and values.

These new prices include beer -- served in 1 quart bottles -- for 2 kuai in any local shop (about $.25). Already I'm loathe to pay 15 kuai or more at a bar (about $2) and certainly not 20 to 50 kuai for a cup of coffee).

Surprising to me is the sunshine we've had everyday since being here, and the comfort I feel despite the cold I feared before coming. This, however, could very well be attributed to the long johns and multiple layers I wear almost at all moments outside of showering.

Probably the thing I've least acclimated to is the workload that traps me and that I had hoped so much to leave behind. For almost a year now, I've grown more and more weary with the life of higher education, and intensive Chinese-only experiences (such as this January-term) have driven me to frustration indescribable. I'm in China, in Beijing, discussing Chinese sights, and I'm stuck in a classroom for all but one afternoon a week. There is obviously some acclimation I've yet to accomplish in this regard.