So it turns out that being a commuter in one of the biggest cities in the most populated country in the world is just about as much fun as one might expect. The relatively low standard of living means that most people still can’t afford cars (although this number is increasing, causing huge traffic issues) so the public transit systems are really strained. Sometimes this past summer, particularly in those last two weeks, I’d forget quite how many Chinese people there really are; we were running around for the most part in the middle of the day, when everyone was at work. Today, though, I rolled out at 7.30 and was obligated to fight through constant swarms of people clogging the streets, the subway, and even the elevators in my building — it took literally ten minutes to get upstairs. My poor sense of direction didn’t help the situation, and on my first commute in China I wound up taking the 10 in the wrong direction, turning around, getting off at the wrong stop anyway, leaving the subway and sprinting around for a mile or so, frantically begging for directions in what couldn’t-have-been-comprehensible mandarin, running back to the subway, finally getting to the right stop but getting briefly lost in the mall that said stop is attached to, giving up and running the long way around the mall instead of through it, and then missing my first elevator due to being out-swarmed by the bolder, pushier chinese. After all that you’d expect me to be late, but I know myself well enough to leave ample time for me to dick around and take wrong turns anytime I go somewhere for the first time; I was upstairs by 9:05.

Present-tense time!
So I walk in the door, at which point the front desk criticizes me for being late, gives me a laptop that’s been preloaded with my login code, takes me to my desk and begin training me. Luckily I’m decently well prepared because they thoroughly responded to the “when should I show up and what should I bring” email that I sent them days ago, so I learn quickly and start doing productive research by noon.
I definitely did not really discover that the office opens at ten, and the two secretaries in the building had clearly either forgotten or never been told that I exist and am coming today, which I didn’t at all see coming when they stone-cold ignored aforementioned email. They certainly didn’t just throw me in some random conference room in the back of the office to stall for time, where I surely am not drafting this blog post on an index card. Sigh.
They say I get to have lunch with someone who has a job for me, and that my computer will be ready sometime after that. Which is all well and good, but it’s 9.45, so they tell me to leave for the time being and go kill two hours. I opt to go buy batteries for my dictionary. The upscale mall that the subway station is attached to is apparently too classy to stock such plebeian items as batteries, so I get to go to the electronics market instead. Think about the phrase ‘electronics market’ for a second. The place I’m going isn’t a singular store, but is maybe 75 or so stands all transitively inhabiting one big building. This model kinda makes sense for T shirts, or fruit, but these guys are trying to vend you printers out of like, “wang-fung’s electric stuff shack.” They particularly wanted to sell me cameras, which honestly just doesn’t strike me as an impulse-buy item. Maybe I’ll come look at a $3 T-shirt if you’re loud enough, mr storekeeper, but with a camera i think one either wants one before going to the store or doesn’t want one at all, and in the former case will probably go specifically shopping for one at a legitimate location, or at least somewhere that isn’t actually held together with masking tape.
I eventually find some batteries and make the mistake of asking how much they are, instead of just opening with my own offer. The lady at the desk tells me batteries are 10 kuai, but when I try to buy a two-pack (it is worth noting that they *only* come in two-packs, so when she priced them that way that’s all she could have been referring to), the guy next to her is like “no, no, ten kuai per battery.” I am at this point in no mood for this shit so I go right to the walk-away, and they immediately offer both for ten. Successfully haggling used to make me feel proud and happy but this time it just made me slightly irritated that they’d even try to pull something as blatantly stupid as attempting to double the price at the last second. Bah.

Coming back to China, I couldn’t fairly describe the experience as a culture shock, because it isn’t shocking any more, per se. Generally speaking, I know what to expect, but at the same time it still feels like a cultural slap in the face, of sorts, a la ‘HEY WELCOME TO CHINA IT’S REALLY CROWDED AND DIRTY AND COLD AND PEOPLE WANT TO RIP YOU OFF ALL THE TIME ALSO BUY THIS CAMERA.’ The difference is that culture shock can be endearing, but a lot of the funny little quirks (oh, that old lady just unabashedly elbowed me in the kidney to cut me in line!) are rapidly becoming less cute and a lot more obnoxious. Do you have to spit in the subway, friends? That really can’t wait?

Anyway so far my job itself is concerned, I probably won’t be writing about it much because everybody and their brother has told me that writing about work is a terrible idea and will get me fired or sued or something. All I’ll really say is for the time being I’m researching some really interesting stuff, and if my concern that i’ll run out of work to do for said research tomorrow proves unfounded then it’s going to be a really enjoyable internship.