Monday, September 14, 2009

One week to go

Well, one week from now, I will have registered at Peace Corps Staging. (Registration is 1:30 PM, Monday, September 21st.) I'll be at the hotel with all the other new Trainees.

It'll feel a little silly, almost, since Staging will take place in the city I've been staying for the past two weeks, in the city where my parents live, in the city in whose suburbs I was raised. The hotel we'll be in is right down the street from where my dad works. We were even considering grabbing dinner downtown that evening-- Orientation is 3-7 according to my Reporting Instructions, and it doesn't mention any activities after 7 pm. But ultimately, we decided not to meet up-- once I've registered at Staging, I should stay there, get to know the other PCVs who will be with me in Tanzania, and so on. It makes sense, but I'll feel a little guilty that I've already said goodbye when my parents are actually still in the same city.

One week.

Considering my circumstances (you all remember, or if you don't you can check my recent archives, how my passport was stolen in Shanghai, I had to go through all this red tape to be allowed to leave China, then I had all this stuff to wrap up in Korea, and only have 3 weeks in America total before I leave again?), I haven't procrastinated that much. I've been going around, buying stuff I'll need, packing stuff, getting things together. Learning Swahili on the Rosetta Stone they sent me. There's a lot to do this week, to finish everything up, but I don't feel particularly behind or anything.

I'm meeting with a Brownie Girl Scout troop tomorrow. Trying to come up with cool cultural exchange things for them to do. Hopefully the leaders will have some good ideas in mind, being in possession of the Badge Book and all of that. Still, I'm having trouble coming up with coherent things to say to them. Peace Corps is just so unpredictable that I have no idea what sort of projects might end up making sense to do with the girls, so it's hard to plan in advance. Well, maybe that's what I should say to the leaders.

One week. Wow.

So yeah. Packing. Studying Swahili (still 4 and a half hours from the required time amount). Picking up some last minute things. Waiting for my solar panel to come in the mail. Still need to get my hair cut.

Trying to figure out whether I should just bring my Durabook with me to Peace Corps, buy a netbook and bring BOTH, or buy a netbook and only bring the netbook. There are lots of pros and cons and all that. I know I can only bring things to Tanzania that I accept may be stolen. The Durabook is more expensive, but I've already had it for a year, so it has a lot of my files on it-- files I may want in Tanzania, especially of the media variety. It takes up more power, though, so it will last less time on the same amount of charge as a netbook. And the only internet I'll have will be in regional capitols and larger towns/cities, which means that I'll probably be bringing my computer with me whenever I go to banking town, so for that smaller is better. Aaargh! Decisions.

One week!

Friday, September 4, 2009

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

8/17/2009

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8/17/2009

The receptionist at the youth hostel stopped me as I entered the lobby. (Insofar, anyway, as youth hostels have receptionists or lobbies.)
"I called the doctor*," she told me. She was a very nice Chinese lady whose English was only so-so, but she made up for it with friendliness and an earnest (and often very patient) desire to help. "He say, if you have symptom 6 days, you need transfusion."
"A transfusion," I repeated, in disbelief. "I need a transfusion? For diarrhea?"
She nods, earnestly.
"Um," I reply. "I think that's maybe the wrong word."
I try to mime to her-- as I've mentioned before, I've become an excellent mime, though in this case it's mixed with English as well-- that a transfusion consists of sticking a needle into someone, removing their blood, and putting someone else's blood into them. She probably didn't quite understand the specifics of the procedure I was acting out, but she seemed to understand that I thought it was an awfully drastic measure.
"Oh. No, then," she said. But then she mimed the same gesture as I did before, with putting a needle into someone's arm. "But needle, yes. Stick with needle."
"Oh, an IV. He thinks I need an IV."
This at least made some sense. The doctor thought I was dehydrated. This would probably have been a legitimate concern, were I not possibly one of the best-hydrated people in the world when my health is normal.** Though I was not currently at my most hydrated, I had taken great pains to not only drink tons of water, but drink tons of electrolytes as well, not to mention checking myself for any other symptoms.
"No IV," I tell her, and pick up the shopping bag I'd dropped to the floor in response to the word "transfusion." I pull out the two monster bottles of Gatorade I'd bought a few minutes before and mimed gulping them down. "I drink this. Lots and lots. No IV. I just want antibiotics."

We'd been over this. I'd been asking for antibiotics for days, but something just didn't translate for some reason, which baffled me. The receptionists at the hostel didn't know what they were and didn't seen to be able to find the translation online. The nurses behind the counter at the pharmacy didn't seem to understand what they were. I just didn't get it. Wasn't this likely to be one of the most-asked for medications as far as foreigners in China go? How could I be the first Westerner with diarrhea (or, for that matter, any sort of bacterial infection) in China who wanted antibiotics (at least as far as all the people I'd spoken to were concerned)? I'd have thought that would be one of the first words they'd teach you in tourism school, but apparently not.
I took the pen and post-it note she had in front of her that had the words, both in Chinese and English, "Diarrhea" and "Transfusion" on it. I wrote, again, "Antibiotics (penicillin)." I handed it back to her; she smiled, and said she'd try to figure out what it meant. I trudged back up the stairs to my room.



*Have I mentioned that through this whole thing with the stolen purse and the bureaucratic nightmare, I've had really bad diarrhea? No? Well, I have. Apparently it's not technically "Traveller's Diarrhea" because I don't any other symptoms like headache or nausea (thank GOD), but it's been here a long time and isn't going away, nonetheless. It's been very annoying, and I've been trying, unsuccessfully, to obtain antibiotics.
**I drink a shitload of water. Sometimes when I'm on a long journey, by train or whatever, I try to limit how much water I drink. Anything less than 4 liters a day drives me insane. I drink, in fact, so much water that doctors have cautioned me that I might unbalance my electrolytes, and so I have even when in perfect health taken up the habit of making my every third bottle of water an ion drink of some kind. To most Westerners' disgust, I drank about a liter of Pocari Sweat a day in Korea. Yes, it's called "Sweat", but it's like Gatorade without being as sweet and with, I think anyway (it's hard for me to be 100% positive about labels in Korean), fewer calories.

8/15/2009

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8/15/2009

Well, my purse was stolen yesterday.
It was my fault. It was totally my fault. I had my backpack on my back. I'd been trying to be so careful all trip, keeping my backpack on my front or by my side, but just then, it was on my back.
I felt a gentle tug, turned around, and found that my purse was missing. I didn't even see anyone running away with it, although several witnesses saw three men, and the witnesses pointed my mom and I in the right direction. We ran two blocks, but never spotted them. My mom dug out her little translation pamphlet and yelled "Police, police!" so some Chinese girls called the police on their phones. A couple of them hung around to translate for us. We were creating quite a spectacle, but I didn't even really notice. I was REALLY torn up about losing my purse. Here is what was in my purse:
-my PASSPORT
-my American debit card
-my Korean bank card
-my IPOD
-my driver's license
-my Korean Alien Registration Card (without this I can't get my pension, worth over $1000)
-all other forms of ID I have
-jewelry I bought for Katie
-some other things too. About 650 yuan--a little less than $100. I care about that a lot less than most of the rest of it.

So. Yeah. Very not good.
We went to the police station, wrote down the report of what happened twice, drove to the scene, had some witnesses confirm that, yes, three men opened my bag and ran away with my purse. The police don't seem like they're acting like they're expecting to find the purse again. Lovely.
We called and canceled my American debit card. Luckily no activity has been seen on that. Can't figure out yet how to cancel my Korean card. And it's Saturday now which will make it harder.
We were planning to leave China tomorrow. My mom to America, me to Korea for 5 days then America. Without my passport (and, subsequently, without my Chinese visa as well), that's not happening.
The information on the US Consulate website is not encouraging. Can't go in without an appointment, can't see them without a report from the exit-entry bureau on the theft (apparently just the local police report doesn't count). We went to the exit-entry bureau today, they say the report won't be ready until Tuesday. Can't get an appointment with the Consulate until Wednesday. Website says that, barring life or death emergency, it can take 10-15 days for a new passport to be issued.
So... that could actually prevent me from going to Peace Corps.
Well, I'm going to take my Peace Corps invitation letter to that appointment. Hopefully that'll have some sway for them to expedite the process-- I want to get this passport and get to America so that I can SERVE our country, damnit!
I really hope I'm not stuck in China for weeks and weeks. I really want to do Tanzania. Brett says he'll make sure the school in Korea doesn't throw out my stuff. Worst comes to worst I'll tell him which stuff to grab (important papers and items and medications) and I don't care that much if they throw out the rest. I'm lucky he's so willing to help out.

I am kind of a mess. Especially last night after everything was done with the police, I just curled up in bed and cried.




9/2/2009 NOTE: Don't worry, I'm back in America, everything worked out. I even managed to get my pension.