I've been working crazy hours trying to get my library in order. Clearly, I have very few books and am barely functional. Ordering more, however, is a maze of confusion that I'm not sure I will ever be able to navigate comfortably. What I do know, though, is that our primary book vendor is out of Shanghai. The process of finding books I want, sending off a list to him, getting a quote back, putting together a P.O. and then receiving the materials takes about three months. This is the cheap version, and is preferable. Ordering from Canada is slightly different. I, again, figure out what I want, put together a list with prices from Chapters and then fax it off to the Vancouver office where it will be purchased immediately. The rub, though, is that it will not be immediately sent over. Rather, it will be received and then brought over as school officials travel from Canada to China. This could be months...this could be October 12.
In fact, it is October 12. So, on top of still dealing with all of the technical issues (and, oh, there are so many...) in Chinese, trying to get furniture ordered, in Chinese, training my unwilling teacher volunteers to catalogue, staff meetings, classes coming in and out, and helping (babysitting) kids on computers, I've been madly trying to decide what I need, and what to order. Seriously - it takes more time than you would think. Increasing the problem is that while their are guides to help with collection development, the kids here are so far below the English level that they should be that most guides are useless. And really, not that it's an excuse, but I've been working here for less than a month now. It's a bit overwhelming.
You're thinking that there's still a little time to get the order in, though; no need to panic. Someone comes over on the 12th, but Chapters orders don't take too much time, I could probably push it another week. But, actually, there isn't. Tomorrow, I'm leaving for a week celebrating "National Week" in Beijing. A week long celebration to, uh, celebrate the creation of the People's Republic; the whole country shuts down and shows some civic pride, including Canadian librarians, or so it appears.
So, I got everything that I want sent off yesterday. If I've done a good job, I should be getting a collection which covers, barely, all the subjects and reference areas. I'm exhausted, I never want to look at Booklist or Chapters again (and I'm stunned that I'm even thinking it) and I promise that I will write more regularly upon my return. In fact, I've even got a few ideas. In a few weeks, if you don't know all, or more than you wanted to, about 'my first Chinese massage', 'my first Chinese tantrum', or my thoughts on television in China and in general...yell at me.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Monday, September 18, 2006
For those of you who care about such things...
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I've posted a few pictures from my library. Let's play a game, shall we? What does your standard issue library look like? What does it have? Now. What does this one look like, what does it have?
By my estimation, I have got :
-several student computers that are a) not networked to the ILS, and b) not networked to the printer. Until I resolve a few communication problems with the IT people (and you think dealing with them in English is bad), I don't think this will be changing.
-2 desks pushed together to make a large-ish work space. Not fantastic, but manageable.
-a water cooler. This took me 3 weeks of fighting for, and represents a major victory to me.
-a book case. Already packed to the gills.
-dictionaries for sale. I currently have as many of these as circulating books.
-assorted gym equipment. Why? Because until the gym is completed, the library is the most logical place to store a few basketballs, of course.
-6 tables, not nearly enough chairs
-roughly 600 books, 24 of which have been catalogued.
Now, what I would like is
-more storage space for my various binders, files, manuals, the eventual publisher catalogues I will have...
-stands for the magazines that I will order
-paperback stands
-newspaper racks for the newspapers that will eventually come in
-book carts
-a return book area, preferably in a nice workable desk
-vertical files
-an atlas/dictionary/thesaurus stand
-some reading themed posters
-some plants
and, it probably goes without saying, but
-more books.
I've been told that the furniture may or may not have been ordered. Someone is in the process of finding out who may have been responsible for this and then tracking down when the furniture may or may not arrive. Until then, I make do. What is more difficult for me at the moment is finding the time to catalogue 500 books, order an entire library's worth of books and learn the Mandarin words for 'network' and 'OPAC'. Let's hope my librarian sea legs kick in soon.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
The Surreal Life
Last week was Terry Fox Day, and being a Canadian school, we of course had a Terry Fox run. While being a truly Canadian institution, the run highlighted everything that is Chinese about my life.
I live in a Chinese 'Development Zone' - the New & Hi tech Agricultural Development Zone, in fact. This means that I live on the very, very outskirts of the city, in an area that was likely completely rural until a year ago. Now, the rural life is slowly being overtaken by busy roads, massive industrial parks and rows and rows of luxury apartment buildings. Since this is China, this is not happening necessarily in an orderly fashion; rather, fields are interspersed with apartment buildings and major complexes are directly across from old village streets and markets. The school I am at, a huge compound in it's own right complete with apartments, a school, dormitories, a massive (and uncompleted) gym and food court, and a large courtyard, is directly in the middle of this. The route of the run, our track not being finished yet, consisted of leaving the school gates, turning right onto a small but busy road and then right again onto an extremely busy, major roadway. Right again on to another busy road, loop around a reservoir.
Being part of the teaching staff, instead of running, (thank god) I got to stand on the side of the road along the route to help direct and cheer the kids on. It's not a long route, but as I was leaving the school I got a lift from one of the school drivers. Through a very complicated game of charades, I managed to get him to drop me off in the middle of a busy road not more than a 15 minute walk away. Complicated in part because he doesn't speak English, and my Chinese is limited to basic numbers and a few bargaining terms, and in part because there was no way to explain to the poor man why on earth I would want to be dropped off so close to school, yet so much in the middle of nowhere.
Since I was early, I had about a 15 minute wait before the race began. So, I sat myself down on the side of the curb and took in the Chinese experience. Old people and young people riding by on bikes. The sound of construction behind me and a vast empty space in front. Expensive cars with tinted windows. Trucks that may have come from the 1960's. The sightseeing was not one sided, though. Every single person who passed by turned and stared. Cars slowed down. One man on a motorcycle actually turned around and drove past me twice. If I think China is strange, the feeling is returned doubly.
On the other hand, kids are kids everywhere. The race started and the keeners webt jogging past. Next came the ones who were trying but not really enjoying it. And finally, at the very back of the pack came groups who clearly had no interest in anything other than a leisurely stroll and a good chat with their friends. More than anything, what I'm finding is that once the layers are peeled off, people really are the same everywhere you go.
I live in a Chinese 'Development Zone' - the New & Hi tech Agricultural Development Zone, in fact. This means that I live on the very, very outskirts of the city, in an area that was likely completely rural until a year ago. Now, the rural life is slowly being overtaken by busy roads, massive industrial parks and rows and rows of luxury apartment buildings. Since this is China, this is not happening necessarily in an orderly fashion; rather, fields are interspersed with apartment buildings and major complexes are directly across from old village streets and markets. The school I am at, a huge compound in it's own right complete with apartments, a school, dormitories, a massive (and uncompleted) gym and food court, and a large courtyard, is directly in the middle of this. The route of the run, our track not being finished yet, consisted of leaving the school gates, turning right onto a small but busy road and then right again onto an extremely busy, major roadway. Right again on to another busy road, loop around a reservoir.
Being part of the teaching staff, instead of running, (thank god) I got to stand on the side of the road along the route to help direct and cheer the kids on. It's not a long route, but as I was leaving the school I got a lift from one of the school drivers. Through a very complicated game of charades, I managed to get him to drop me off in the middle of a busy road not more than a 15 minute walk away. Complicated in part because he doesn't speak English, and my Chinese is limited to basic numbers and a few bargaining terms, and in part because there was no way to explain to the poor man why on earth I would want to be dropped off so close to school, yet so much in the middle of nowhere.
Since I was early, I had about a 15 minute wait before the race began. So, I sat myself down on the side of the curb and took in the Chinese experience. Old people and young people riding by on bikes. The sound of construction behind me and a vast empty space in front. Expensive cars with tinted windows. Trucks that may have come from the 1960's. The sightseeing was not one sided, though. Every single person who passed by turned and stared. Cars slowed down. One man on a motorcycle actually turned around and drove past me twice. If I think China is strange, the feeling is returned doubly.
On the other hand, kids are kids everywhere. The race started and the keeners webt jogging past. Next came the ones who were trying but not really enjoying it. And finally, at the very back of the pack came groups who clearly had no interest in anything other than a leisurely stroll and a good chat with their friends. More than anything, what I'm finding is that once the layers are peeled off, people really are the same everywhere you go.
Monday, September 11, 2006
It was a good day
It's funny how a few little things can change your whole perspective. China's a tough country to move to. The sensory overload alone can be incredible. Almost everything that we take for granted in the West requires extra effort or doesn't exist. Part of the problem is mine. Without the correct words, everything can take longer than it would normally. Sometimes, things just don't exist. I had no idea how much I used an oven until I didn't have one. Without the internet, the last few weeks have left me feeling like I've landed, alone, on the moon. Yesterday, I was unhappy and lonely. And then, a few things happened to change it around.
Internet access arrived and I was able to cursorily catch up on email and read the news. Paris Hilton was caught drunk driving and ipods are so ubiquitous that they are no longer cool! Once again, I am part of the real world.
I've been stressing out about work alot and putting in a lot of overtime. Coupled with the fact that I'm still trying to figure out a) what those funny looking vegetables are good for, and b) how to make a proper meal on only two propane burners, or c) how to order something that doesn't involve meat, I haven't been eating too well. I wonder if that's been contributing to my mood? But, yesterday, the wife of one of the teachers here brought over a wonderful, delicious, nutritious and fully prepared meal for me and we had a really nice chat while I ate it. The kindness of new friends is better than Ativan and Xanax combined.
And. And. To top off a good day, the building manager and the maintenance man, Bill and Richard respectively, dropped by to fix all the little things that are wrong with my apartment. Now, I have it pretty good. I've had a lot less problems than other people. But laundry has been a bit of a challenge in the last few weeks. Washing machines function similarly to those in the West. You put the clothes in, the water goes in, cleans and drains in four cycles. Not too bad. However, there appears to be a fair amount of concrete in the pipes so instead of draining away into the plumbing ether, the water from my machine drains onto the bathroom floor. This means that instead of putting in a load and going about my business, I have been spending my laundry time sitting on the bathroom floor next to a bucket, poised to grab the hose the second I hear the drain cycle begin. When the bucket is almost full, I pause the machine, dump the water into the bathtub, and begin the refilling of the bucket. Each drain cycle, of which there are four, involves four full buckets. And at least once during every laundry day, I manage to miss the beginning of the drain cycle and the hose goes flying out of the bucket, spraying me and flooding the floor.
Since the school is still essentially a construction zone, my house is also very dusty. A wet floor means a very dirty floor. The mop lives in the bathroom, and, since I'm already mopping I may as well do a little extra cleaning. Laundry has become a serious chore. Now, I'm not big on cleaning. I'm not a total slob, but I'll let things slide sometimes in the name of leisure time. I'm beginning to think that the cleaning gods are having a good laugh at my expense; the laundry situation is part of some sort of karmic retribution for my past level of slack.
But, as of last night, I can now do laundry like a normal person. I dump the clothes in and walk away. No more sitting on the floor. No more spontaneous showers. No more mopping. No more cleaning. It was a very good day. I'm sure my emotional state will be a merry-go-round for a good while to come, but at least I'll have clean clothes. And believe me...that goes a long, long way.
Internet access arrived and I was able to cursorily catch up on email and read the news. Paris Hilton was caught drunk driving and ipods are so ubiquitous that they are no longer cool! Once again, I am part of the real world.
I've been stressing out about work alot and putting in a lot of overtime. Coupled with the fact that I'm still trying to figure out a) what those funny looking vegetables are good for, and b) how to make a proper meal on only two propane burners, or c) how to order something that doesn't involve meat, I haven't been eating too well. I wonder if that's been contributing to my mood? But, yesterday, the wife of one of the teachers here brought over a wonderful, delicious, nutritious and fully prepared meal for me and we had a really nice chat while I ate it. The kindness of new friends is better than Ativan and Xanax combined.
And. And. To top off a good day, the building manager and the maintenance man, Bill and Richard respectively, dropped by to fix all the little things that are wrong with my apartment. Now, I have it pretty good. I've had a lot less problems than other people. But laundry has been a bit of a challenge in the last few weeks. Washing machines function similarly to those in the West. You put the clothes in, the water goes in, cleans and drains in four cycles. Not too bad. However, there appears to be a fair amount of concrete in the pipes so instead of draining away into the plumbing ether, the water from my machine drains onto the bathroom floor. This means that instead of putting in a load and going about my business, I have been spending my laundry time sitting on the bathroom floor next to a bucket, poised to grab the hose the second I hear the drain cycle begin. When the bucket is almost full, I pause the machine, dump the water into the bathtub, and begin the refilling of the bucket. Each drain cycle, of which there are four, involves four full buckets. And at least once during every laundry day, I manage to miss the beginning of the drain cycle and the hose goes flying out of the bucket, spraying me and flooding the floor.
Since the school is still essentially a construction zone, my house is also very dusty. A wet floor means a very dirty floor. The mop lives in the bathroom, and, since I'm already mopping I may as well do a little extra cleaning. Laundry has become a serious chore. Now, I'm not big on cleaning. I'm not a total slob, but I'll let things slide sometimes in the name of leisure time. I'm beginning to think that the cleaning gods are having a good laugh at my expense; the laundry situation is part of some sort of karmic retribution for my past level of slack.
But, as of last night, I can now do laundry like a normal person. I dump the clothes in and walk away. No more sitting on the floor. No more spontaneous showers. No more mopping. No more cleaning. It was a very good day. I'm sure my emotional state will be a merry-go-round for a good while to come, but at least I'll have clean clothes. And believe me...that goes a long, long way.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
On why the internet is so important, or, a down note during the transitional phase....
I left home on the 22nd of August. Today is the first day that I have reliable internet access.
More and more, I think that we've begun to see the world as very small. With the internet, we are able to keep in touch with friends across the globe in real time. We know and are able to see what is happening in distant countries as it is happening. Let me tell you...the world is not really all that small physically. I left Edmonton on the morning of the 22nd and took a flight to Vancouver. A few hours later, I was on a 9 hour flight to Tokyo. After a 14 hour overnight layover, it was on to a three hour flight into China. And then, a 5 hour bus trip to my new home. Not including layover time, that's a total of 18 hours. Not a small world after all, if you ask me.
Since then, it's been an incredible rollercoaster. Moment to moment, I have no idea whether I've been happy to be here or not. There are moments when I'm incredibly grateful to be experiencing this. Professionally, I'm in the best position of my life. I am in charge of setting up and running a library from the ground up, complete with a staff of three volunteers; I am gaining experience that would take years to reach otherwise. I live in a beautiful 1600 foot apartment with a study and a large kitchen, and it's costing me the ridiculously low price of $300. I've already picked up a few Chinese words (granted they involve shopping and the one that rolls of my lips most easily is "that costs too much" - gotta love the bargain system) and am learning more all the time. And I live in a remote, development area of a city which allows me to mix with the locals in a way I would likely never get to in a more cosmopolitan area. The local village comes alive at night and it is truly a gift to be able to wander through
On the other hand, I think I might be a cosmopolitan kind of girl. I like the bustle of the city. I like the diversions - restaurants, movies, the bustle - that it offers. I live in an area where the water and occassionally the electricity go off as regularly as, I'm told, they often did 30 years ago in China. I have buckets of water in my kitchen stockpiled; even when the water does flow, I can't seem to get my laundry washer to hook up properly. I more or less live on a construction site which ensures that even though I sweep every night, there is a visible layer of dust on my floor every morning in which I can track my footprints. And this area is fairly remote. I'm an hour ride from the centre of the city. The village is incredible. But I'm a city girl and I'm not sure how long I will be able to entertain myself with the women dancing in the square. Am I callous and colonial for saying that?
However, these things will end. The area will be built up and will begin to run efficiently. More than these things though, which are temporary and frustrating but ultimately manageable, I feel isolated. Hopefully, internet access will change this, but I miss my friends from home, and I miss the comfortable bubble of likemindedness that library school provided. I like to think that this too will change. But, to be honest, at this moment, I'm homesick and I don't like China all that much.
More and more, I think that we've begun to see the world as very small. With the internet, we are able to keep in touch with friends across the globe in real time. We know and are able to see what is happening in distant countries as it is happening. Let me tell you...the world is not really all that small physically. I left Edmonton on the morning of the 22nd and took a flight to Vancouver. A few hours later, I was on a 9 hour flight to Tokyo. After a 14 hour overnight layover, it was on to a three hour flight into China. And then, a 5 hour bus trip to my new home. Not including layover time, that's a total of 18 hours. Not a small world after all, if you ask me.
Since then, it's been an incredible rollercoaster. Moment to moment, I have no idea whether I've been happy to be here or not. There are moments when I'm incredibly grateful to be experiencing this. Professionally, I'm in the best position of my life. I am in charge of setting up and running a library from the ground up, complete with a staff of three volunteers; I am gaining experience that would take years to reach otherwise. I live in a beautiful 1600 foot apartment with a study and a large kitchen, and it's costing me the ridiculously low price of $300. I've already picked up a few Chinese words (granted they involve shopping and the one that rolls of my lips most easily is "that costs too much" - gotta love the bargain system) and am learning more all the time. And I live in a remote, development area of a city which allows me to mix with the locals in a way I would likely never get to in a more cosmopolitan area. The local village comes alive at night and it is truly a gift to be able to wander through
On the other hand, I think I might be a cosmopolitan kind of girl. I like the bustle of the city. I like the diversions - restaurants, movies, the bustle - that it offers. I live in an area where the water and occassionally the electricity go off as regularly as, I'm told, they often did 30 years ago in China. I have buckets of water in my kitchen stockpiled; even when the water does flow, I can't seem to get my laundry washer to hook up properly. I more or less live on a construction site which ensures that even though I sweep every night, there is a visible layer of dust on my floor every morning in which I can track my footprints. And this area is fairly remote. I'm an hour ride from the centre of the city. The village is incredible. But I'm a city girl and I'm not sure how long I will be able to entertain myself with the women dancing in the square. Am I callous and colonial for saying that?
However, these things will end. The area will be built up and will begin to run efficiently. More than these things though, which are temporary and frustrating but ultimately manageable, I feel isolated. Hopefully, internet access will change this, but I miss my friends from home, and I miss the comfortable bubble of likemindedness that library school provided. I like to think that this too will change. But, to be honest, at this moment, I'm homesick and I don't like China all that much.
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