a brief update about a very bad uhaul

Currently, all of our stuff (excepting luggage) is in storage by the barn on Erin's parents' land. We've completely checked out of our old apartment. Through a complex series of events, we ended up moving our belongings THREE times on Sunday. It's still a little hazy, but here is what I remember about what happened:

1. We go to pick up our Uhaul. Since it was an "in-town" move from Lawrence to Topeka, they would only rent it to us for three and a half hours. We reserved a specific time to pick it up, but then we waited in line for twenty minutes when we actually tried to pick it up, before we got to the counter. They wouldn't add twenty minutes on to our three and a half hours. In fact, when we suggested that they let us have some more time because we'd been waiting in line, they threatened not to rent us the Uhaul we had reserved and told us: "You need to understand that it's a very busy time. I have someone picking up this Uhual at 4:30. I'm not renting it to you if you aren't going to have it back by 4:30."

2. We rent the Uhaul. Erin, Megan, Elliott and I frantically load up the Uhaul--frantically, but very carefully. Erin jumps in the Uhaul and I jump in my car to follow her to Topeka.

3. It should be noted that at this point in the causal chain of events, the temperature outside was around 100 degrees--probably the hottest part of the day.

4. At the intersection of sixth and Rockledge, right down from our house, the Uhaul died, blocking traffic that was trying to get to I-70.

5. Panic ensues.

6. We call Uhaul. They send someone out in another truck. Strangely, without inspecting our truck, the Uhaul employee backs a second truck up illegally so that it's behind ours (see illustration).

7. Many cars honk. Many cars pass by.

8. The Uhaul employee tells us a) they were never supposed to rent that truck because it doesn't have air-conditioning and it has a broken fuel-pump.

9. The Uhaul employee tells us b) "Don't worry--we won't charge you for turning in the truck late. Now we need to put all of your stuff from the first truck into the second truck."

10. Erin and I move our things--all of them--frantically, for the second time in about an hour. The Uhaul employee "helps" us.

11. It looks like everything won't fit, since we're having to rearrange the order of objects in the truck.

12. The Uhaul employee says "Hey, I can probably get you guys a 'deal' on a smaller trailer, if you want one to put the extra stuff in."

13. With effort, I prevent Erin from punching the Uhaul employee in the face.

14. We leave some unimportant things on our curb.

15. We drive to Topeka. We unload everything we own, moving it for the third time in one day.

16. We return the truck, after-hours, to the Uhaul place.

17. We vacuum our old apartment.

18. We drive back to Topeka.

19. I think about Samuel Beckett.

20. I think this was all a philosophical test to prepare me for traveling in China.

21. I think that I passed the test.

22. I think about Samuel Beckett again.

23. I fall asleep murmuring combinations of the phrases "What are we doing?", "Waiting for Godot..." and "Ah, yes..."

It's a good thing they don't weigh carry-on luggage

I never anticipated how difficult trying to decide what books to pack for an entire year would be. I even planned this out several months ago, but it's still hard. The books that I specifically need to take in order to study my comprehensive lists, or for my online Science Fiction as Literature course are simple. It's the "extra" books that are ripping my heart out. Here is a list of painful questions I had to ask myself this morning:

1. How necessary is the red book of John Cheever stories?
2. Can I somehow wedge the complete short stories of Flannery O'Conner in there?
3. What if I get halfway through the year and I'm really depressed and don't have any Richard Hugo poetry?
4. Is it better to take the complete works of H.D. (which weighs a lot) or only to take Trilogy? What if I start reading Trilogy and then NEED the rest of the poems?
5. Should I take the books of poetry I love the most, that I reread constantly, or should I focus on taking books of poetry that are new to me?
6. What's better; books that you can learn things from (in terms of craft) or books that will comfort you?
7. Anthologies, or a select group of complete books? If I take anthologies, I might have a greater variety of things to read, but since I'm planning a book-length project of my own, learning how other writers have arranged items in a book--specifically the order they chose for their works--might teach me more.

Any advice from people who read this post would be greatly appreciated.

you say "luddite," I say "maybe"

Deciding what to take with me for a year has been difficult. I'll have two 50 lb. bags which I'll check, and two carry-ons. I need at least one of those bags to be entirely full of books. Luckily, I found a good bookstore/lending library in Beijing. That should help.

I'm also packing my laptop and something called a PC6. I have a problem becoming fascinated with outdated technology. Our apartment is filled with old slide projectors and typewriters. Recently, I've also started acquiring a few older computers/word-processors. This addiction to older typing machines might relate to my writing process. I think that the internet destroys productivity, or at least, it has the potential to do so. One thing I like about laptops is that they allow me to get away from my house. I do a lot of my best writing away from home, I think. However, I get easily distracted by checking my e-mail, etc,. when what I really need to do is focus for a prolonged period of time on things that I'm writing. After a lot of research, I bought a PC6 for several reasons. This is a word-processor usually marketed to primary schools. I read someone's blog that mentioned one of these machines before getting one. I wish I could find the blog and link it here. Here are the reasons I bought it:

1) It has a 36-hour battery life. Mine has a rechargeable battery pack, but it can also run on 4aa batteries. I hate how I have to keep plugging in my laptop. I could take this thing on a trip to Beijing and not have to plug it in all weekend.
2) It was designed to be used (primarily) by children. You can drop this thing on the ground and it won't break. I could probably submerge it in water and it wouldn't break.
3) It weighs less than 3 lbs. and I'll be bicycling everywhere.
4) It comes with a receiver that connects to any USB port. You can "beam" any text file you create on it into ANY text program on your computer--word, e-mail, etc., etc. I could connect the receiver to a Mac and send my text file to a mac.

Alright, this is sounding like a commercial, so I'm going to stop. The only sad part about the PC6 is that I'll likely retire my IBM Thinkpad. I won't actually get rid of it, but I can't take the 30 lb. thing to China. My wife will be happy about this. She hates the loud beeping noise the Thinkpad makes when you turn it on. Here are some pictures of my poor Thinkpad:



Here are some pictures of the PC6 and a short film of me "beaming" something. Erin and I keep laughing and saying the word "beam" each time we look at the PC6. Erin commented that "beaming" technology sounds like something a computer company would have talked about in the 80's, when they thought about the future. I'm still waiting for my hover-skateboard that Michael J. Fox had in Back to the Future. I wish someone would get on that.

the countdown begins

Here is a picture of the city I am moving to in China:



I'm trying to think of something auspicious to write for the first post of this new blog. I frequently have pretty poor blog discipline, but am going to stay focused with this one. I want to document what my expectations are for living in China prior to actually being there, and then record what happens to me as honestly as I can, as I experience it. I'll be flying from Seattle to Beijing on August 16th, so I have a little time to exorcise some of my preconceived notions. I already have my job for the year and my visa taken care of. That process alone taught me some things. I think I'll start with a top-10 list of things I've already experienced or learned about during the getting-ready stages, some of which surprised me:

1. I have health insurance. It's free. My teaching job in China is giving this to me. My country won't give me health insurance for free.
2. I had to get a chest x-ray and an EKG for my documentation. Going to China is serious business.
3. I used my economic stimulus package from George to pay for my tests that I need in order to travel to China. I will stimulate the U.S. economy by going to China. I'm not sure how that is going to happen.
4. I compared Chinese Amazon.com (try typing "English novel" into the search field) to United States Amazon.com when trying to decide which books I need to buy and take with me. This process caused a wave of patriotism to wash over me.
5. I've wanted to learn how to play Mahjong for a very long time, so that when I get to China, I'll be able to make friends with the really old men who play Mahjong in a lot of the parks. I bought a book on Mahjong. Mahjong is incredibly complicated. You have to know what direction the sun is in compared to the table where you are playing in order to decide who sits where. I am not making this up. The quest to learn how to play Mahjong is going to take a very long time.
6. Sometimes I think capitalism is going to ruin part of this experience, even though I know there will be moments when I'll be homesick for "western" things. Here is a list of western businesses I know are in Tianjin: Burger King, McDonalds, T.G.I. Friday's, Wal-Mart, KFC, Starbucks, Subway, Papa John's, Pizza Hut. I have already set a resolution for myself; I am going to try and avoid eating any Western food for as long as I possibly can.
7. China does not have very good toilets. I am not talking about the squatting toilets which terrify many westerners. I mean the western-style toilets. The pipes are small and inadequate for the disposal systems connected to many Western style toilets in China, because there are no large sewers. This fact makes me think about what a luxury it is for many of us Americans that our cities were constructed later than many European cities, at a time when innovations in plumbing were being discovered. As a result, most of our cities have some kind of sewer-systems that were build prior to expansion and urban sprawl. However, if you lived in a place that had been inhabited for hundreds and hundreds of years prior to innovations in plumbing, you might not have a shiny, gigantic sewer-system, would you? I think too many Westerners are quick to criticize plumbing in other countries without thinking, whether they are traveling in Europe or in Asia. Seriously--what are you supposed to do? Tear up all of the skyscrapers in Beijing so that you can build a sewer? It's not very realistic. If we had to do something like that in New York, nobody would go for it and the sewer would never get built, and yet, we're very quick to criticize other countries for something which is essentially an accident of history; we lucked out and plumbing was improved before our cities became too inhabited. What do we want? A medal?

Digression: I learned recently that Chinese people are frequently confused when they see chase-scenes in western movies that take place in large, open sewers you can run around in. The pipes are only about six inches in diameter for a lot of the "sewer" systems in China. A couple of things: 1) Victor Hugo is very popular in China. I'm not sure why. I wonder what they make of the chapter in Les Miserables where Jean Valjean is chased through the sewer? 2) My wife Erin told me that in a lot of businesses with Western-style toilets in China, you can see the scuff marks on the toilet seat from where people have climbed up onto them and squatted while standing on the edge of the bowl. This makes perfect sense to me. How would you know how to use some strange-looking Western toilet if you had only seen the squatting kind? This is yet another situation where I feel like people who come from rural environments are made to feel embarrassed when they encounter urban social practices. It doesn't matter whether you're from Iowa and you don't know what fork to use at the Waldorf, or if you're from a rural province in China and are confused by the western toilet; the social web of ritual behavior necessary to move through an urban setting can be daunting. Of course, the reverse is also 100% true. Just wait until I get to my own personal "squatting toilet" post--the one I know is in my future. I will feel like a Western fool.
8. I can't think of any more right now; I'll need to finish this list tomorrow.