life. in china. captured through the eyes of a nomad named jen.

I came to Beijing knowing all-in-all three people whom as I pointed out previously are: Denny, my cousin Carolyn and her hubby Josh.

Well, in the two weeks since I moved here I’ve yet to feel lonely in big, bad Beijing. In fact, I have been quite lucky in the sense that people have been popping out of the woodworks and helping to fill my social calendar up rather nicely.

That’s not to say however, that everyone I’ve met is a keeper. Just like finding the perfect job, finding friends involves a bit of an interview process so to speak. You meet and greet, swap life stories and see if you are a good match for each other. Sometimes it’s an instant connection, formalities are tossed aside, and you let the good times roll.

Take yesterday for example. Instead of going solo to an author’s talk at a bookstore on Friday night like the big dork that I am, I found myself dancing till 4am to Peter Hook (now a DJ following in the footsteps of Boy George) from New Order. Yes, don’t act like you don’t know….

Every time I see you falling
I get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for that final moment
You’ll say the words that I can’t say!!!!

As random as it was listening to DJ Hook in Beijing, so was the manner in which I ended up meeting an Irish lad named Colin. Through my Norwegian friend Linda from LSE, I was introduced to her Aussie friend Emilya living in Beijing via email, who in turn introduces me to her friend Colin also via email.

Two emails and coupla phone calls later, I meet Colin who in his own words said that I couldn’t miss “the 6ft tall fat guy in the pink shirt.” Somehow I got the feeling that me will likey Colin. I mean come on, have you ever met an Irish person who wasn’t in the least bit entertaining?

So turned out Colin wasn’t exactly fat, but was exactly the funny, gregarious, happy-go-lucky pink shirt wearing leprechaun that I imagined him to be. Never having visited Asia before, four-leaf clover decided to pack his bags for Beijing and has been here for three months, loving every minute of it. His newfound love for ChingChong land partly has to do with the fact that for $8 US dollars between 7:30 and 9:30 on Friday nights, one can feast on all-you-can eat Japanese food while drinking all-you-can drink Chinese beer, in the company of expats hailing from all corners of the globe. Now can you see why I love Beijing so far? It’s so fucking random!

Needless to say, it does not take a wild guess to determine where Colin and I met up with his group of friends. After all-you-can-eat & drink, our little UN-esque group managed to somehow scarf down desserts at Bellagio (a diff eatery!), and then headed to Babyface (a club) to groove to beats by Dj Hook while sipping on whiskey mixed with green tea. Again totally random! I Love it, love it, Loving it.

Colin and his buddies certainly qualify as nutters whom will make my Beijing nights all the merrier. Shoulders to lean on in times of need? Well that remains to be seen. Mooseys (Jchu dork lingo for homey) for life are hard to come by no matter where one lives.

***

Ok….on to Chinese boyfriends. Another blind friend date has left me wondering if I have inadvertently found myself a wannabe Chinese boyfriend? Say What? Oh Yes. It only took one meeting for this guy to send me a long flowery text. A trusty translator (text was in Chinese although he knows I can’t read diddly squat) informed me wannabe bf wrote: What does it mean to have a good friend? What is friendship really? A good friend is someone you can lean on. And most importantly, he is so happy to make my acquaintance especially before May 1st (Chinese Labour Day Holiday, which is also when I’m supposed to call to arrange another meet up time). WTF? Random? Yes. Me likey this sort of randomness? Um, no thanks.

Initially, I thought this guy was harmless. After all, he was a very good friend of a friend. Plus, he sported a wedding ring for goodness sake! Well, before I have time to consider checking off my list: “make myself some native Beijing Friends,” homeboy called me before noon on Saturday telling me he’s about to go out to buy me a bike. Oh Lordy. I had to come up with something quick, and told him my cousin had already sorted out bikes for us. He said luckily he had called to check. I said luckily you did.

Dude! Where I come from, you just don’t go around buying bikes for people you met the day before. Maybe he is just super nice and super excited to be my “friend” or maybe as my mom warned me, he has ulterior motives  (which according to Motherchu is why he paid for lunch to begin with. I thought he was just following Chinese tradition of paying for meals when you are the host, but hey what do I know?). Argh. I’m still not sure whether to give him the benefit of the doubt, and meet up for a second friend “interview” (now is a good time to leave a comment in the blog and give me some advice yall!).

In any case, I’m a happy camper. Because right now, Beijing is turning out to be a nonpareil –all-you-can eat, wannabe Chinese boyfriend- sort of place……..and me love it long time.

A defining characteristic of the Chinese is their bluntness or what I like to call “ChingChong Candor.” My adolescent years for instance, were marked by comments such as “how come your forehead is covered in pimples.” I’m positive other awkward, pimply, know-it-all Chinese teenagers also fell victim to ChingChong Candor from time to time.

Yet, Chingchong Candor can dish out compliments. You know when Edwina scores a perfect score on her SATs or plays Beethoven’s Symphony No.5 in C minor to a standing ovation. And later when she is accepted into Harvard. Moi, on the other hand am not named Edwina (thank fucking god) and failed to be a model minority. Instead, my relatives told me constantly that I should eat meat because I was one pasty looking vegetarian.

Anyway, as I grew out of my adolescence, I’ve discovered that Chingchong Candor does not discriminate against age or gender, or even who you go to bed with for that matter. Dad is often reminded by Motherchu that he is starting to “look like a skunk” and it’s time to dye his “nang kang si da hay-bai tow fa” (literal English translation: ugly looking to death black-white hair). Somehow, I don’t think Mrs. Smith is as blunt.

Now to bring it back to a personal note, as many of you know, I had a stint at Google where oodles of free yum-yums beckoned to me morning till night. Well, a few months into my job at the Googleplex, I developed the sinking suspicion that Larry and Sergey were helping to pad not my wallet (mind you, for receptionists stock options were not an option), but rather my butt, thighs…. you get the idea.

Well, who needs a scale to confirm the extra pounds when you’ve got Chingchong Candor? During a particularly glutinous week, I met my relatives for lunch. And as any good Chinese girl would do, I made sure to say hi first to Yie-Yie. Instead of responding back in words, 89 year-old Granpachu bursted out in a soft chuckle then proceeded to puff out his cheeks and make hand movements around his face that undeniably signaled that yes, Jenny Chu, you one chubby bunny.

Also, now at the ripe age of 27, the first question that often comes up after the obligatory exchange of hello and how are yous with relatives, friends of the parental unit, hell even Chinese people I have just met sitting next to me on the bus is, “So, do you have a boyfriend?” Now, one must realize that “beating around the bush” does not resonate well within the Chinese psyche. Actually, I don’t think the term has a Chinese equivalent. Beside, finding out whether I am on the path to spinsterhood, is to be sure, much more entertaining than asking how my job is going.

In all honesty though, I for the most part embrace Chingchong Candor. I’d much rather be told that I’ve gained a few extra pounds or that my new hair-do is a complete miss, then have someone tell me that I look “absolutely fabulousssss darling.”

Plus, as I have just discovered on my flight from SFO to PEK, Chingchong Candor can provide more entertainment than my current issue of Cosmo (I mean really, I can only read so much of how to do Mr. Right right). See, sitting next to me was a ChinaMan (sorry, I never got his name), who now lived in Seattle and was traveling to China to do business. Within minutes, ChinaMan broke our wall of silence, and soon I found myself engaged in a conversation marked by, surprise surprise, frequent bouts of ChingChong Candor.

Less than an hour later, I learned that his daughter was a newly born Christian married to a Hapa who was raised on a farm, that he paid $450,000 for a condo in Shanghai, and that he thinks Taiwan should reunify with China. Oh, I also learned ChinaMan recently discovered that a good friend of his, married with a kid, was in fact gay. ChinaMan said he found out because his friend was caught having relations with a younger boy in the park and arrested by the Chinese police. Nice.

And once our chitchat moved past the subjects of family, politics and into the realm of sex, he asked me, “What you call those guys in Thailand who dress up as girls.”

“Ladyboy,” I tell him.

“ Ha. Ha. Ha.”

And just as I turned back to reading my Cosmo, ChinaMan randomly bursts out, “So do you call a woman who turned into a man Boylady?”

Awesome.

I can’t help it. I am 27 years old going on 13, and I have a schoolgirl crush. The last time I had a silly crush was forever ago. Anyway, just like a 13 yr old, I do not have the guts to actually send this imaginary note to a real life boy. I mean Man.

Dear ________,

You seem to be a live by the moment type of guy. So live life. Meet me in Hawaii.

Have a break from the rat race in exchange for a few sunny beach-filled days. Have some sno-cones with azuki beans, technicolor sunsets, mai-tais with little umbrellas, seashells by the seashore. Have some cheese in your life. Have me.

Memorial Day Weekend, 2006. Veronica is marrying Phil.
And I want you to be my date.

Yours,

Jchu

If I were truly a live by the moment girl, I would take the chance, send the note and say, “screw it if the boy thinks me crazy.”

Instead 27 yr old logic supercedes childish daydreams.

Hence this retarded post.

jenny just got the goods!!!

sooooo as SN double OP, D-O double G would say,
drop it like it’s hot……
drop it like it’s hot….drop it like it’s hot

Uh! I’m a nice dude, with some nice dreams

See these ice cubes, see these Ice Creams?

( jchu’s a big dork, but y’all knew that
but she don’t care, yeah she still gonna….
DROP IT LIKE IT’S HOT! x 3)

becuz:

1) My most prized possession now contains my Chinese visa- 6 mos, multiple entry.
what. what.

2) A brand new Canon Digital Rebel XT
there goes 1/8 of my savings, oops. but hey, i’m now armed and ready to take more pictures of old china men, like i did below in 2004.

(btw, you can click on any pictures for bigger version)

one-toothed chinaman

opium-addicted chinaman

i’m 96 years old, and daym i look good chinaman.

so yeah, on the top of my to do list is improving my photo taking skills. anyone want to trade english lessons for photography ones?

This post is dedicated to all those working in international development.

Too funny.

The Development Set

Excuse me, friends, I must catch my jet- I’m off to join the Development Set; My bags are packed, and I’ve had all my shots, I have travelers’ checks, and pills for the trots

The Development Set is bright and noble, Our thoughts are deep and our vision global; Although we move with the better classes, Our thoughts are always with the masses.

In Sheraton hotels in scattered nations, We damn multinational corporations; Injustice seems so easy to protest, In such seething hotbeds of social rest.

We discuss malnutrition over steaks And plan hunger talks during coffee breaks. Whether Asian floods or African drought, We face each issue with an open mouth.

We bring in consultants whose circumlocution Raises difficulties for every solution- Thus guaranteeing continued good eating By showing the need for another meeting.

The language of the Development Set Stretches the English alphabet; We use swell words like ‘epigenetic’, ‘Micro’, ‘Macro’. and ‘logarithmetic’.

Development Set homes are extremely chic, Full of carvings, curios and draped with batik. Eye-level photographs subtly assure That your host is at home with the rich and the poor.

Enough of these verses — on with the mission! Our task is as broad as the human condition! Just pray to God the biblical promise is true: The poor ye shall always have with you.

Ross Coggins

It’s almost 4 in the morning. Maybe its good I’m turning into a vampire so I won’t be jetlagged when I arrive in Beijing. Riiiiight.

A friend just instant messaged from Japan asking me what I was up to. That’s when I realized that I can hardly keep up with life. I was organizing a scrapbook with pictures of London from 2004-2005. Sigh.

Anyway a big perk that comes with moving to distant lands is having friends cook you mouth-watering gourmet food. Last night I was treated to a three course vegetarian dinner prepared by Chef Larry, my buddy from UCLA.

Look at this menu!!!!!!!
In case you can’t read the picture
1st course
Asiago Zucchini & Chinese Eggplant Frites

2nd course
Belgian Endive, Watercress & Red Radish dressed in a Sake Wasabi Vineagarette

Look at the Third Course— Portobello Tower with Truffled Celery Puree w/ Red Pepper Balsamic Reduction accompanied by Roasted Mixed Green Tomatoes w/Garlic and Basil on Pine Nuts Couscous!!!!!

Needless to say, Jenny was having food orgasms all night long and thinking, “Larry needs to quit his day job and I need to put him in my backpack!”

Chef Larry, me and my BFF Becca.

There is just something about living in the dorms that creates friendships like ours. The three of us laugh, cry, burp, sing, dance, talk with each other like family. These two chingchongs better visit me in the motherland or else I’ll karate chop their arses.