Beijing Birthdays

Hello, friends. Hao jiu bu jian! You might not know this, but this is actually a Chinese saying that we English speakers have adopted. "Hao jiu" means "long time," and "bu jian" translates to "no see." in any case I must apologize for my extended internet absence. Life has been rather regular here in the capital, and the muses haven't been singing as loudly as before. But that is not to say that I haven't been enjoying myself. I have been immensely. This past weekend was Juicy's 7th birthday, and to celebrate the Tseng family and I went on a picnic. The chosen spot was by far one of the strangest places I have been to in Beijing. We went to a hotel way out in the outskirts of the city. The striking feature of the hotel was that it was modelled after a French chateau. I really can't explain the strange feeling one experiences when he drives through a Beijing slum and emmerges into a huge field to find he has been transported to the French countryside. So, anyway the Tseng family, myself, and four of Juicy's friends and their parents all ate celebrated Juicy's birthday together in fake (or should I say faux) Franceland. One aspect of the celebration that I noticed is the there was not a lot of emphasis on gift giving. Juicy received maybe five presents, two from her parents and one from each family that attended. More over each gift was opened promptly after it was received, but never in sight of the giver. From what I witnessed, even for a child's birthday, the emphasis was put on family and friends, not gifts. That's something that I didn't not understand until I was much older. After our picnic, all of the families and I went to tour an elaborate neighborhood. It's call to fame was that it was American style. The neighborhood, to me, was uppity and self rightious. The staff had a pompous air about them and the decorations were as opulent as they were gaudy. Each house in the neighborhood cost approximately 1.5 million US dollars, which I thought was ridiculous. But to the Chinese, owning a house in Beijing is a big deal. It is as much of a status symbol as a car is here. And to them, if the money is good, it is a price worth paying. Be careful, my Chinese friends. We don't want a Chinese housing market crisis. The next day, I had class with my teacher, Tang Lao Shi. That night it was her friend's birthday so she invited me to join. The celebration was being held at a hot pot restaurant, and for me, it was my first time trying hot pot. It's actually not that different from a meat course at a fondue restaurant. Think Melting Pot with thinly sliced meat and chopsticks and you've got hot pot. Tang Lao Shi's friends were particularly difficult to understand because they spoke with a Hunan dialect. They also found great pleasure in asking me questions in rapid fire Mandarin only to watch the blank look on my face. This so far has been the only real problem I've had, the inability to participate in daily conversation. And it has been my greatest frustration since coming to China. It is terribly irksome picking up bits and pieces of conversation, but not being able to convey your own thoughts and feelings. Oh well, as the Chinese saying goes "the patient and diligent student prospers." For now I'll just have to wait and know I will improve.