The winter of my discombobulation

"I can quit anytime I want!"

If things have been seemingly quiet on this blog since the start of the Year of the Bunny, you would be correct. And the reason you would be right lies solely with your humble scribe. For to put things in an easily understood manner, there are times of late when I seemingly can't locate any fucks to give. Depression is the diagnosis, and while medication seemed to initially alleviate my mood, lately the motivation, the desire, the drive, whatever you prefer to call it, just isn't there at times. Of course, there are physical issues - frequent bouts of light-headedness (which my wife blames on chronically low blood pressure), plus blurred vision of late brought about by eye strain from too much computer usage. But I prefer to bring the fault down upon language training, or more specifically, why Johnny can't retain. In my head, I enunciate perfectly-formed sentences that are clearly understood by the intended listener. In reality, the mouth runs ahead of the brain, the latter which can't find the key vocabulary and grammar points when they're most needed. The end result result is a linguistic paralysis, an unpalatable mishmash of half-formed thoughts delivered by a foreign barbarian of diminished mental faculties.

In short, just another day at the office. Oh, well, there's always Christianity to turn to if things don't improve, like with some people I know. But that will have to wait until later, because for now I'm not terrified at the thought of being an insignificant blip in a cosmos unconstrained by notions of size or time. 

Back to living in the material world. Two important additions have been made to the household since the last post. The first, at my wife's urging, was the purchase of a car. Rather than buying a vehicle from a departing diplomat, as is the usual type of transaction in my line of work, Shu-E thought it better to pick up a new set of wheels on the local market. And so we are now the proud owners of a brand new Geely 吉利 Emgrand 帝豪. No, I'd never heard of the make either, but the absurdly low selling price for new domestically-produced cars in China (around ¼ of the average cost of a new car in the U.S.) made it a low-risk investment. We will be faced with a major decision come 2025 and the end of our tour in Beijing 北京 - to ship or not to ship the vehicle back to the States. Geely does not yet have a presence in the American car market, meaning that routine servicing and parts procurement would probably pose significant headaches in the U.S. On the other hand, there would be a certain cachet with driving around a rare car of socialist origins (just please don't compare our Emgrand to the likes of a Trabant,  for example). And perhaps, just perhaps, that would prove attractive to some automobile collectors:

Geely is a Hangzhou 杭州-based company, and our vehicle proudly displays this sticker on the rear window. The Asian Games, however, were supposed to have been held last year, but have been postponed to this September. Whether they will still be staged in Hangzhou isn't clear:

The first spin made in our new set of wheels (other than the drive from the dealership to our residence) was a lengthy one on the day of the Lantern Festival to a veterinary clinic. It was there that we picked up the second important addition to our household. Meet Yŏnghào 永浩, a Siamese approximately 1½ years of age. Yonghao initially hid under the living room sofa, but it didn't take him long to emerge from under the furniture and begin to explore his new surroundings. He's affectionate and talkative, though unlike most Siamese, he doesn't express himself with loud mews. Rather, as my daughter describes it, he "chirps", using very low meows:

As Shu-E didn't care much for the name (he was apparently named after a Chinese comic, whose voice can be heard on our new car's GPS, hilariously admonishing us whenever we exceed the speed limit), Yonghao has transformed into...:

...Timi! The name is derived from "Tiramisu", as in the Italian dessert, after Amber commented that the cat's fur coloring resembled that of the sweet treat. "Ti" as in "tira" and "mi" as in "misu". Clever, is it not?

In the meantime, the girls have already trained convinced him that if he holds out his paw, he'll receive a tasty treat:

I fear the end result will be our horrifying deaths as Timi enacts his carefully-plotted revenge for this humiliation he's being forced to endure. Still preferable to being in Mandarin class, though. 

And speaking of the Lantern Festival 元宵节, on the final evening of the last day of the Lunar New Year, I dragged the younger girl away from the cat long enough to take a walk around our residential compound, with an electric lantern (per custom) to guide our way:

While daytime temperatures have been edging up recently (resulting in the thawing-out of the Liangma River), it remains well below freezing once darkness sets in. The result on one recent Friday was a rare dusting of snow:

Unfortunately, along with the snow came black ice - on the way to the shuttle that morning, I slipped on a patch. While I didn't hit the ground, I did contort myself into some strange, unnatural shapes to prevent myself from falling. And considering my past history with falls (two hospitalizations), I decided to return home to change into some footwear with better traction. After consuming a cup of coffee to steady my nerves, I headed out to the subway to get to school. Upon arriving at my metro station destination, however, I started feeling light-headed, but instead of immediately getting back on the train and returning home, I staggered out of the turnstiles in search of a restroom (blame it on the coffee). Upon locating a lavatory, I entered only to find myself in the midst of a very heated argument between a janitor and a thuggish-looking toilet user, presumably over the cigarette the latter was smoking while inside the stall. I nevertheless proceeded to a urinal, only for the confrontation between the combatants to turn physical before I had finished answering the call of nature. Blocked from leaving the WC, and with my head still reeling, I stepped forward and parted the men as Moses parted the Red Sea, then walked over to the sink to wash my hands, while mall security entered the bathroom. In China my size can make me much more intimidating than back in the U.S.

Oh, and once back at Liangmaqiao Station, I stumbled on the steps leading out of the exit due to my glasses having fogged up while wearing a mask. Just a typical morning in China's capital. 

This wouldn't be much of a blog entry if I didn't get out and do something "interesting", so on the eve of Presidents Day, I managed to scrape up enough motivation to head outdoors and do "something". It helped that, following a long stretch of foul smoggy days (with the AQI hovering around the 200 mark), Sunday was clear and gorgeous, with the temperature breaking double digits Celsius (11°C/52°F). With these atmospheric conditions looking favorable, I convinced the girls to join me on a walking tour of several of Beijing's traditional hutong 胡同 neighborhoods, courtesy of the Lonely Planet China guide. 

Emerging from Nanluo Guxiang Station 南锣鼓巷站, we first found ourselves on Chaodou Hutong 超逗胡同, facing a series of courtyards that were once part of the former mansion of one Seng Gelinqin, a general during the Qing dynasty. In one entranceway stands a pair of large drum stones 抱鼓石: 

Following a narrow alley to Banchang Hutong 板厂胡同:

These side streets were relatively quiet. The same couldn't be said for the main drag, South Luogu Lane 南锣鼓巷:

We managed to find a seat at a busy baozi 包子 restaurant:

We then escaped the throngs by retreating onto Dongmianhua Hutong 东棉花胡同, where we discovered we could've eaten at one of several quieter eating establishments, like this sushi restaurant:

The crowds caught up to us on Mao'er Hutong 帽儿胡同, one of the more well-known in Beijing:

Amber points out the multilingual signs on the door of No. 37, telling visitors to stay away. This is the former residence of Wanrong 婉容, who would go on to marry China's last emperor, Puyi 溥仪. Things would not end up well for her (Wanrong, that is; I'm fervently hoping my daughter's future will be so bright she will have to wear shades):

Many of the residences have colorful murals above the entranceways:

Rickshaws are available to take tourists for a spin:

Time for a break at the Great Leap Brewing brewpub. Shu-E ordered the Honey Ma Gold, while I opted for a Cinnamon Rock Ale. We ended up switching drinks after my wife discovered that honey is sweet. Go figure:

During our short spell in the pub (located in an atmospheric old home), the property owner came in to remind the staff that they were behind on the rent. He was much friendlier to me, welcoming us to Beijing:

By this point, it was getting hard to remember the street names. Were we on Fangzhuanchang Hutong 方砖厂胡同 or Nanxiawazi Hutong 南下袜子胡同? Does it matter?:

Back in October of last year, my classmates and I had Zha Jiang Mian 炸酱面 at this unnamed establishment. It was busy, but we didn't have to wait to be seated. The same couldn't be said for the folks below, who were standing in a long line around the building:

The girls have a look at some shoes:

Making our way along Gulou East Avenue 鼓楼东路:

As a result of the beer I had earlier quaffed, I appreciated the many public restrooms to be found in the hutong. It was a good thing, however, that I did not need to do a Number Two (note the western-style throne in the corner). On the other hand, these restrooms were surprisingly clean, in a relatively public Chinese lavatory kind of way:

Caochang Hutong 草场胡同 was the quietest neighborhood we walked through all that afternoon:

The hutong deposited us in a square located behind the Bell Tower 钟楼, one of those famous Beijing sights that we had visited on one of our two earlier trips to the capital, back in that time when we thought we wouldn't be returning to China ever again. Looks like I got that one wrong:

Spices on offer at a small supermarket somewhere between the Bell Tower and Gulou Dajie Station 鼓楼大街站:

Timi must have done something right in a previous life:

And so this is the current state of affairs as we see out Presidents Day and return to a normal schedule, with the next holiday a Chinese one falling in early April. Before that, however, looms the second round of mock exams (the first having taken place last December). Considering the current situation, and the time I've missed due to illness and medical appointments (tomorrow, for example, I have a CT scan in the morning, followed by a session with a mental health professional in the afternoon, which will result in yet another day absent from class), I'll probably pull off the remarkable feat of having regressed since that first round last year. 

Hmm, what was that about being born again...?