"Ting hao de" = Marvelous/Wonderful/Very good

My favorite weather has finally arrived in China. In my eyes, nothing is better than a cold, rainy, fall day. I love the change of seasons and how the fallen leaves find themselves glued to every surface. I love running through puddles and shielding myself from the pouring rain.

This morning, I readied myself for the elements with my boots, umbrella, and waterproof jacket. I crossed the bridge and waved to an oncoming taxi.

He slammed on his brakes and drove into a giant puddle.

I was drenched.

"Xie Xie." I dryly said to my driver as I got into the taxi.

"So sorry! so sorry!" he shouted.

On the days that I teach at the hotel, I usually just flag a taxi down, call one of the employees at TEC, and have them tell the cab driver where I need to go. My Mandarin skills are not nearly good enough to instruct a taxi driver how to get to this far off location. Unfortunately, this morning, no one answered their phones.

My driver looked at me and asked where I needed to go.

"Just go straight," I said in muddied Mandarin.

I frantically called Alex who then gave me the number of an employee at the hotel.

"Derrick! I need you to tell the taxi driver where to go."

"Where are you?" He asked.

"I have no idea.... just talk to him."

Derrick and my taxi driver ended up having a 10 minute conversation as he weaved his way in and out of traffic. After hanging up my phone, my driver offered me a cigarette and asked me to clean the back window. We had a nice conversation until my Mandarin skills were bled dry. I told him I was from America and I teach English both at the university and for private companies. He seemed happy with my language skills. We were about a half of an hour away from my destination when he started singing Chinese opera songs to me. Chinese opera, unlike every other opera, is not calming, soothing, or beautiful. The high-pitched tones and squealing verses make my ears hurt. He looked back at me in search of approval.

"Ting hao de," I said, and gave him a thumbs up.

On Mondays, I teach at the university from 8am until 5:40pm with a break in the middle for lunch. For the rest of the week, I spend about two or three days at the hotel training center teaching basic English from 10am until 3pm with an hour-long break for lunch. Even with the minimal teaching schedule, teaching for the hotel has become quite tedious and tiresome. I eagerly await my lunch break.

I shouldn't complain since the hotel provides my lunch, but it's glorified Chinese airplane food. I don't eat that much of it - even though it is customary to eat all that is put in front of you in China.

I was quietly enjoying my lunch today when Vicky, an upper-management hotel employee, joined me. She used to live in Seattle where "the weather is perfect all the time."

"Really?" I questioned.

"Yes. Perfect. Not like this."

I looked out of the window and saw rain, gray skies, and wind - what I though to be typical Seattle weather.

I took another bite of my lunch. Vicky looked at me with amazement.

"Your chopstick skills are very good."

"Yeah. Lots of practice, I guess."

"And your food? Do you like it?"

"Yeah, actually, it's very good today." I said as I put another bite of what I thought was chicken into my mouth.

"Really? Most westerners don't eat that. They think it's gross."

My mind was racing. "Did I just eat dog? What IS THIS?" I frantically thought to myself.

I set my chopsticks down.

"Oh, well... what is it?" I calmly inquired.

"Oh... it's... hmmm.... I don't know what you would call it. It's from a pig though."

"Ting hao de...." I said.

After work, I took a cab downtown for a warm cup of tea and dinner. I sat alone at one of my favorite restaurants. A group of three young adults sat across the aisle from me. As they giggled and spoke intermittent English I couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Their giggles were often preceded by finger-pointing in my direction. I'm used to the staring by now, but with my increasing understanding of the Mandarin language I find myself understanding conversations I wished that I did not. They were making fun of me.

I focused on my book and was determined to enjoy my warm bowl of curry. As soon as I finished, I hailed the nearest waiter and handed him my money. The three young adults had also just finished their coffees and handed their money to the waiter as well.

He returned with my change. Well, he returned with part of my change. I counted my money and noticed that he only handed me 64rmb when I should have received 75rmb.

He had clearly switched my bill with the three people sitting across from me - an understandable mistake to make in a busy restaurant.

However, as I waved the waiter over to settle the mistake, the three young adults realized their good fortune, quickly grabbed their belongings, and ran out of the door leaving me 11rmb short.

(11rmb roughly equals $2)

I couldn't help but laugh at my misfortune.

Tomorrow is the Mid-Autumn Festival. I have been invited to a friend's house for dinner. It is a holiday roughly equated to Thanksgiving (but without the pumpkin pie). It is a celebration of family, friends, good-fortune, and the new season.

I am excited to share this holiday with some close friends. Even after days like today, I find myself blessed to feel a familial type of support from those around me.