The (Continuing) Unboiled Dumpling Adventures

My first time in China, I formed a central philosophy for living here: you have got to get used to being partially successful in your endeavors. Trying to be completely successful is like trying to be perfect – it just is not going to happen, and you will make yourself crazy trying.

I went a little crazy last week; I think you all saw that. For my credit, it really was a lot of crap to deal with all at once. On the other hand, I was letting my negativity overshadow the positives. For instance: I went to see the Vienna Boy’s Choir at the GZ opera house last Saturday. It was a lovely night: cool (as in a pleasant summer evening, not Maine in mid-October cool) and clear, with a mostly-full moon. The opera house is down by the river in Zhujiang New Town. There were hoards of people in the park there. Some were there to see the large fountain (the type that has a programmed routine), some to see the Star Trek-esque park architecture, some to gawk at the clearest view of the Canton Tower I’ve seen yet, others watching a concert in a large amphitheater, more watching a shadow-puppet show projected onto the exterior walls of the opera house. It was festive and cheerful. I didn’t have my camera, but perhaps I will venture out that way again some evening and try to get some pictures for you. It really is indescribable. The concert itself was lovely, and even with the slight headache of trying to get back to our district (we caught the very last subway train of the evening, along with several hundred of our very closest friends), it was an excellent evening.

So last week wasn’t a total bust, and this week I’ve still had several problems, but I’m not in so dark a place. It’s hot again, which I can’t fix but it really isn’t that bad. My internet still doesn’t work, but I got a native-Chinese speaking friend to go be a little more insistent with the China Telecom office, and I’ve got one more solution to try on my own before they’ll send over a repairman. My washing machine is still inoperable, but our landlady has at least tentatively responded that she will have someone come look at it.

Actually, the only problem I did solve this week was my non-working cell phone, and that brings us back to my Living In China Philosophy. Those of you who read this blog in 2009 may remember the story of the unboiled dumplings. For those who haven’t heard this story: the first time I tried to buy some dumplings, I was asked a question that I didn’t understand, so I answered ‘no’ at random (I figure no is often safer than yes). The question was “Do you want these boiled?” and the result was that I bought 29 raw dumplings. Luckily, I was able to cook them, and the next time, I was prepared for the question. Thus, the Dumpling Adventure went down in my books as a win. Was I completely successful? No. But, did I accomplish my central goal? Yes. Let’s face it: if everything went according to plan, life would be boring.

This is the attitude I am choosing to bring to my adventure of solving the cell phone issue. First, I went to the little place where I usually recharge my minutes, and told them my phone would not make phone calls. They had no idea how to help me, so I said thank you and left. There is a China Mobile store about a block away from my apartment, so I went there next. It is very large inside, with several distinct sections. I stood in the door looking stupid, trying to decipher signs, until I was waved over to the Information desk (ok, yes, it said Information in English. But, it was on the bottom, below the counter, not on a hanging sign overhead like every other sign in the store). Now, don’t let the English signage confuse you: no one here speaks any useful amount of English. A very kind and patient woman helped me figure out my problem, which turns out to be that my SIM card is fine, but my phone itself was dead/broken. So, I need a new phone. Ok, that’s fine, I guess. She directs me over to the display of phones. Like phone stores everywhere, there are a lot of really slick models, up to and including Blackberries and iPhones. I have neither the desire nor the budget for a 3,000 kuai phone, so I hunt around the nearly indecipherable displays of tech specs for a model that is a little more pedestrian. I find one for 299 yuan, which isn’t nothing but isn’t terrible, either. Now, I’m being ignored at this point. While normally this makes me quite happy (have you ever trying browsing electric tea kettles, frying pans, or even the plastic baggies aisle while being “helpfully assisted” by one or more clerks? It’s really annoying), I actually want to buy something here, and there’s no one to help me. So I go back to information, but the kind and patient woman is helping another customer with what looks like a receipt that is, no joke, longer than she is tall. She looked like one of those pictures of Santa Claus with his naughty/nice list. There is now another employee at Information, so I tell him that I need to buy a phone, how do I do that. He looks at me like I’ve just asked how to tie my shoelaces, or something, but then asked which model I want. Ok, really? Its name is in Chinese, and I can’t read the characters. I’m going to need to employ the point-and-say-“that one” method, but we’re not actually standing at the display. So he leads me to the counter in the back of the store, where there is a list of models, and I can point. The clerk there writes the info on a little piece of paper, then I’m following Information dude back to his desk. Hmm, ok. Now, Information dude hands me a form, and tells me to write three numbers. Say what? Passwords? What passwords? I write three random numbers (my passport number, my home phone number, my own cell number) and he types them in his computer and then crosses out one and three. Ahah, he’s looking for numbers that I’ve dialed on my cell. So I dreg out some phone numbers I’ve called (I don’t know why. All I can think of is security, to make sure I hadn’t stolen the SIM card). Then he’s asking for my passport and the SIM card and making photocopies. He prints me out a wait-in-line ticket and waves me off the a row of employees at desks with computers.

At this point, I still don’t have a new phone and I’m really confused as to why it is so complicated. It’s not like the US, where we have plans and contracts and junk like that. I literally just need a new physical new phone. But it is shortly my turn, and I am helping another woman (who literally did a double-take when she saw I was a foreigner and then tentatively asked me if I spoke Mandarin) figure out which part of my name is my surname and which is my given name. Then I tell her my address. And now I’m beginning to get it, and if you’ve already figured out what I’m doing, you’re quicker on the uptake than me. Anyway, I sign some papers, finally get to pay for my phone, and get a receipt to take back to the back counter, where they exchange it for a phone. They put in the SIM card, ask me to make a call to make sure it works, and I’m finally free to go.

So, do you get how this adventure was only semi-successful? Yes, that’s right, I inadvertently bought an internet-capable phone and signed up for a plan (I’m pretty sure, anyway). So, on the one hand, I have a working phone again, mission accomplished. On the other hand, I’m paying for 3G service, which I hadn’t intended. I’m going to count it as a win overall. I actually kind of like my new phone (it’s got a color screen and the buttons are easier to click than my last one), and if I never get my internet fixed, it might be nice to have it on my phone. Sure, there’s no access to hotmail, gmail, facebook, or hulu. But there’s always the New York Times, right?

Ok, that’s quite enough for now. I’ve got to go hand wash some laundry in the sink.