Welcome to Beijing, one of the largest, most populated cities in the world. Though the Chinese have basically mastered public transportation, and are trying to limit the number of cars circulating around the city, traffic is still a huge problem at pretty much all times of the day.

Knowing how easily frustrated I can get, I told myself “be a wolf, not a sheep” (surely that’s in some awful action hero/sappy war movie?), I decided to buy a second-hand electric scooter. I don’t have a drivers’ license but I figured, how hard could it be? It’s just like a giant bicycle without pedals… There’s a certain appeal in being able to weave in and out of traffic, to not stop at red lights, and to drive on the sidewalks/wrong side of the road when in a hurry.

I would recommend buying an electric scooter if you possess the following qualities:

• You are willing to risk your life on a daily basis
• You are a master of Mario Kart
• You have minimal road rage
• You don’t feel pain and you don’t scar.

If you do indeed possess these qualities, then by all means! Go get your bike! It goes without saying to check brakes, lights, tires, accelerator, kickstand and battery (60 volt bike: 1300 – 1600CNY for a second hand bike) before handing over the cash.

There are more ways to stay entertained on the Beijing roads. A few of my favourite games include A) Racing random people, B) Never letting your feet touch the ground, C) Practising your Chinese cursing 🙂

To put it into perspective, if I were to take a bus to work (a 6 km distance from home to classroom) it would take me 40 minutes: Walk to the bus stop, wait for the bus, stop at every stop for a million people to get on, get off the bus, walk to the school. On my scooter, it takes a whopping 12 minutes, door to door.

I say get out your leather jackets, your boots, your Raybans, and feel the wind in your hair (at a max speed of 50km/h)!

NB: You can also decide to buy a gas scooter. Much faster, much more expensive, and legally questionable for foreigners to own…

“What are our expectations… which of the things we desire are within reach? If not now, when?   And will there be some left for me?” –Anthony Bourdain

It has been three months since I’ve landed on Chinese soil; China with a capital ‘C’, it feels like just yesterday that I was greeted by the blank stare of an immigration officer, in a city far from home. They wanted to know what business I had in China, I replied, “I’m an English teacher with Aihua. I will live in Shijingshan”, they stamped my passport and I hurried along. No expectations, no idea what I had just signed up for, and no regrets.

Our apartment overlooks the vast and fragrant city; in the daytime the image of a glorious mountain range fills our view, at night the buildings come to life with Chinese characters lit up as far as the eye can see. China is too big, too diverse, and forever changing at a rate so fast that no matter how many times I try to understand China, I remain blissfully ignorant. I can gaze out at the city and find something new every single day; look out and say hello where did you come from?  A familiar concept here is to try and dissect China, try to understand why it functions in the way that it does, why don’t they just do this –or if they just did this like we do back home…! I myself am guilty. China isn’t meant to be understood in the eyes of an expat or even its own people, it functions in its own right and they do some things better than anything I have seen from a mega-city; it is China with a capital ‘C’.

The subway system is the most efficient in the world, it can take you anywhere in Beijing. The rides, depending on the day, could either be arduous or therapeutic. The sound of subway echoes like a mantra of Chinese efficiency…”Baboashan….Bajiao….Wukesong…..” Careful or you might miss a stop… it’s always the best for people watching; they wonder where you’re going or where you’ve come from and you wonder what their stories are, what does China with a capital ‘C’ mean to them?

The food is unpredictable, yet time and time again satisfying. Food here, like many other places, feels ritualistic; a bonding of necessity and pleasure, with laughs thrown in as a Chinese imperative. It’s an outpour of pork, beef, lamb, squid, fish, and oil – don’t be scared to dive right in, it’s the only way. Chop stick skills are not optional.

Teaching is the primary reason I came here. I received the news of my visa approval on the jungle floors of Minca, Colombia. I was sharing a tent with Alex, my older sister of 26. She’s of a small frame, tenacious, and has an unquenchable thirst for the unknown. I had met up with her on her travels of South America. I said good-bye to the howler monkeys, coffee, and my sister, and headed into honking horns, new smells, and tiny children looking at me for answers in Chinese- “English only”, I repeated. Teaching for me did not come naturally, however there isn’t much time to dwell on it. You must look your students straight in the eye and say, “Repeat after me…” You will be trained as much as you can be; the rest is up to you. Once you get into a rhythm there is no shaking you. Some days you feel as if the kids absorbed more knowledge than you have ever possessed yourself…other days they will test your will and make you question all of your choices leading up to that moment…don’t worry that too shall pass. The kids are great, they go absolutely mental when I speak Chinese, and at the end of it all remember that they’re just kids. Take away a few cultural conventions, two separate languages, and you realize you’re not so different at all.

The amount of exploration here is also endless, you’ll find that on your days off you will explore as much as you can of the city and be helpless at the end of it all, knowing that you could never possibly finish exploring Beijing let alone the vast country that is China. Be sure to go to Yuanmingyuan Park, The Summer Palace, The Great Wall, and if you really want to get a feel of what the Chinese are all about, go to Shanghai, a city renowned for its rapid growth and urbanization. Don’t be scared to wander off down a hutong, for there you will find the best gems of all. Dumplings, duck, and whatever your eyes can see will be found down a hutong. They are traditional to Beijing and embody a kind of dichotomy native to China; the balance of old and new. Here you will find no one speaks English because there is no need to, just grab a seat, politely say “Nihao” and go along your business just as the locals do…after all these 21 million Chinese are your neighbors. It’s our China with a capital ‘C’.

P.S- If you own a motorbike like many of us, drive safe, invest in good breaks/horn, and wear a helmet. If you survive a year of driving in Beijing traffic…go hike Everest, you don’t fear danger and you are a crafty, resourceful person, you’ll make it in no time.

With an extensive and affordable public transportation system, Beijing is an incredibly easy city to get around in. But the subway does close fairly early, making it difficult to stay out in the city for any time past 11:00. And sometimes, you want to get around a bit more quickly.  And other times, understandably, you might just want to avoid being packed so closely to other people. For these times, taxis serve as an inexpensive alternative.

I’ve taken many taxis in my time in Beijing, and I’ve found using them to be a pretty simple experience. With some basic Chinese, or even a finger to a map, it’s easy to tell a taxi driver where you’re trying to go. And it’s much less expensive than taxis that I’ve used in other cities. An average 20-minute ride only costs around 50 yuan (about 8 dollars). It’s a convenient service. However, it is not without its faults. And those faults mainly depend on your driver.

Taxi drivers can be very nice people. Usually they’re very excited to have foreigners in their cab. I’ve had one driver even sing me a song as he drove me through the city. Other rides can be more difficult. One well-known reason, is that taxi drivers seem to have the thickest accents of any profession in Beijing. With some, it’s near impossible to understand what’s being said, even with some knowledge of Chinese, which can lead to some confusion. Some taxi drivers are more reluctant to take foreigners to destinations because they don’t seem to believe that a foreigner could give them directions. Other issues have come from the fact that my apartment is in Shijingshan, a district of Beijing that’s a bit of a trip outside of the city center. Plenty of drivers have told me that the drive is too far, and others have admitted to being unfamiliar with the area. I’ve been in a cab before, where my driver drove around aimlessly for quite a while before finally stopping his car, pulling out a map and having me point out the route myself.

In Beijing, each ride in a taxi is a new experience. Often, they are good, but sometimes they can go wrong. Sometimes they’re straightforward, and other times they can be very memorable (for many reasons). Still, it’s something that you will quickly get used to, and it makes an already easy to travel Beijing, even easier.

Our Chinese classes are getting better every week! Last week, when we were learning about food, one student asked me the question: “Why do Chinese people usually ask me ‘吃了吗’ (chi le ma?) or ‘吃饭了吗’？(chi fan le ma?)” I smiled and asked: “Has anyone else gotten the same question?” All the students raised their hands. I asked : “So if your answer was ‘没吃’ (mei chi)，did he or she invite you to dinner?” They all laughed: “No. But why do they care about whether I have eaten?” “Because we have a saying ‘民以食为天’(mín yǐ shí wéi tiān) which means “People regard food as their prime want”.  There used to be a lot of famines in Chinese history, and many people  died during these famines, so food is a thing of great importance in daily life. When people ask “吃了吗”, it’s just like saying  “Hello” or “how are you?” in English.

I have been wanting to write something about movies, and the cinema- one of my favourite past-times, along with the majority of the population I’m sure. Before I moved to China, I of course knew that the entertainment and movie business was censored. To what extent, I didn’t know, but I soon found out. Cinema goers will rejoice, as Beijing has no shortage of cinemas, most of which boast huge 3D (and quite a few 4D) screens, and plenty of sweet, sweet popcorn.

First of all, I am a comic book geek, so anything produced by Marvel, DC, Dark Horse, etc. I’m all over it. And with the production (some might say overproduction) of superhero movies and TV shows gracing our screens right now, it is an exciting time! When I first arrived in Beijing in August 2014, Iron Man 3 was being talked about. Having had a little later release date in China, like a lot of movies, the Chinese version caused some controversy. This was down to one of the final scenes in the movie being remade for Chinese audiences, to make it seem like the Chinese authorities had provided aid to our hero Iron Man, and thus helped saved the day! There is also an added scene where the character of Dr. Wu is pouring a glass Yili Chinese milk, clear product placement, but that is for another time…

There are always going to be little tweaks and changes to movies of this sort. Scenes are going to be cut, due to language, violence, or nudity. Otherwise, these movies would not make money, or reach the same level of fame as they do internationally. Recently, Deadpool was banned all over China. Naturally I was devastated. Months of watching teaser trailers, all gone to waste. I searched for why China would do such a thing. Apart from all the violence and swearing, which I’m sure played a factor, there was another reason entirely. Deadpool (and I’m picking this film as an example) is heavily ironic and sarcastic. This was a huge reason it has done so well in most places around the world, but with the Chinese language, it faced a problem. Irony and sarcasm are two things that don’t translate particularly well into Mandarin Chinese, and so many of the big moments and jokes would have been lost to the general audience.

Leonardo DiCaprio has been about China, promoting his latest film, The Revenant. The film has done well in China since its release, but was feared to do badly, despite its Hollywood success, and the Oscars it won. In the past movies such as these (The Kings Speech, Gone Girl, 12 Years a Slave, Birdman, and The Artist for example) have not done as well as they have internationally. The specific themes and subjects of these more independent movies are not relatable to Chinese culture, and so Chinese people have a difficult time grasping the nature of them. The Revenant did better than expected due to the fact that it was promoted quite well, and the Chinese audiences have a soft spot for Xiao Li or “Little Lee” as he is affectionately known by locals.

With that said, most of the highest grossing movies in China right now are fantasy, high octane action, and superhero movies- so I have no major complaints!

When I started working in Beijing, one thing that surprised me was the fact that a lot of the teachers own e-bikes. Surely they’re all crazy I thought (and maybe they are, they’re living in China after all!). But as time passed, it started to make a lot of sense to me. In a city of Beijing’s size, having a bike makes your life much easier. So I decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it. Luckily for me, there’s a strip of bike shops right by my apartment. So after playing charades with the shop owners and using the calculator on my phone to haggle prices I found out that … bikes are not as cheap in Beijing as I though they would be. I returned home dejected and all the more wearisome on my overused feet. But as is usually the case in China, there are always other options. I contacted an old teacher in my school and he brought me to another strip of shops. Initially it looked like the prices would be pretty much the same. I would just have to cough up and spend a considerable amount of money if I wanted to pursue my dream of living a sedentary Chinese life. But experience prevailed and the Aihua old-stock wasn’t budging. After a considerable amount of haggling, the shop owner gestured for us to follow him. He brought us to a dodgy looking garage hidden down a side street. Once we stepped inside it appeared to me we had stepped inside mo-ped nirvana! Bikes sprawled the space. This was more like it! The great thing about situations like this in China is that because you don’t share the language you can’t query the questionable origins of what you’re looking at. My conscience was clear(ish) and I was ready to ride and let my overgrown hair (Chinese haircuts, there’s a whole other story for you) feel the wind. The outcome … I got a pretty decent bike for less than €100 and I haven’t looked back since (mainly because I’m afraid to see the build-up of traffic behind me trying to honk me off the road.)

I was in Beijing for a few months before I discovered the jianbing. It’s basically a pancake filled with sausage, onion, egg, and lettuce — a perfect breakfast, really. Well, you can get them in several varieties, but they all have this key ingredient in common: grease. Something about street food to note, that. You won’t find many nutritious things being rolled down an alley in a cart. More often than not, they are soaked in grease. The crunchy texture of the jianbing and the greasy coating is what really makes it great, though. Personally, I’m not in it for the health. If I see the grease glistening on the pancake in the hot sun, my arteries stiffen with excitement. Unfortunately, though, you can’t count on the same seller to be in the same place all the time. They pick up and move. So, if you have a craving, you have to just follow the meaty, semi-rancid smell down a few side streets and hope for the best.

This week, the new foreign teachers in our beginners Chinese class learned about two kinds of characters, Associative Compounds and Pict phonetic Characters. First, the teacher wrote 休 on the board, as the students had already learned 人 and 木. They quickly grasped the meaning of休, which is a person leaning against a tree, which extends in meaning to “having a rest”. Then they guessed the meaning of 坐（two people sitting on the ground）泪（water that flows from the eyes）卡（stuck）. The students were so excited guessing characters; it was like solving riddles! So the teacher gave them another riddle: If 人 means a person, 从 means one person follows another, what does 众 mean? Does it mean one person standing above the other two, or acrobatics? They all laughed and began to think about this question. Then the teacher gave them another example: 木（tree） 林(woods) 森(forest).  At last, they came to a conclusion: characters with this kind of structure, means plenty of something. In Chinese culture, 三 always indicates a big number.

After I had completed my CELTA and had begun hunting for a job that would get me out of rural Scotland, I was pointed in the direction of Aihua (thanks Teachers for Asia!). Previously, I had unthinkingly dismissed the idea out of hand as the thought of relocating halfway across the world to a smog-choked hellhole, where people cowered under the despotic rule of the Party, seemed like too drastic a change. However, the more I looked into it, the more my attitude softened. Reading the other teacher’s blog posts gave me a much better idea of what I could expect out there as well as an insight into the wonderful community of teachers and other staff working for Aihua. So I took the plunge and before I knew it I had arrived at Beijing airport feeling slightly confused at the decision past-me had taken, and a little bit frightened as the reality of the situation hit me like an elbow to the ribs.  It took a second for me to realise that was actually just an elderly Chinese woman battering past me to get her suitcase but it felt fittingly poetic in a way.

When I arrived in February winter was already tailing off and, after two months, spring is now in full bloom. The transformation between the two seasons has been something to behold, especially coming from Scotland where the seasonal variation swings between “cold” and “slightly less cold” (accompanied by cries of “taps aff!”) with an ever present chance of rain. Around the middle of March the dust covers were taken off the bushes and trees and the plants were hosed down to remove the grey rime which had accumulated over the winter months. There’s been no sign of anyone spray painting the grass green yet, but the change has been so drastic that it wouldn’t surprise me. The temperature has skyrocketed and the days seem to be less smoggy overall so I’m bracing myself for an onslaught of Vitamin D. Most people would consider this a good thing, but when you have a complexion that most closely resembles that of a cave-dwelling worm it is a slight worry.

With the emergence of the sun has come the repopulation of the public spaces and parks around the city. What seemed to be bleak, icy spaces of emptiness in February have started to see heavy use as the clear skies draw people blinking, pale and spluttering from their abodes. The open air aerobics classes are well known and not a uniquely Beijing thing, although I’m yet to muster the courage to join in. It’s on the to-do list though. Another popular past-time, which I haven’t seen anywhere else, is the weirdly popular “whipping practice”. I don’t know how else to describe it because that’s all it is: an elderly man (if it’s a nice day the Beijing belly will be proudly on display) furiously lashing the ground with a whip. It’s like something Indiana Jones might enjoy. Or the Marquis de Sade.

It would be fair to say that when it comes to fashion, my understanding isn’t exactly on point. But it seems that in Beijing you can slap a few English words on anything and it’ll sell. Walking to work the other day, I noticed someone in front of me wearing a baggy green hoody with screeds of English written on it. A few phrases stood out: “I’m a different person…”, “My heart is stronger now…” and (in all caps) “DON’T CALL ME AGAIN”. It read like one of those late night, passive-aggressive status updates you see on Facebook from someone you worked with four years ago who you felt obliged to add but never really knew. Maybe the lady wearing it decided that social media wasn’t a sufficiently public vehicle for expressing her cryptic messages about her troubled relationships and decided to take it out on to the streets. I’m looking forward to seeing other classics like; “now i know who my real friends are and who are the FAKES”, the inevitable sympathetic response “whats wrong hun?” and the staggeringly un-self-conscious “nevermind will pm you”. If this trend continues it won’t be long before we see the Britain First string vest. Like and share.

If you read through the other blog posts, and I recommend that you do, it’s clear that everyone feels that arriving in Beijing is a huge shock to the system. It definitely is, but it’s a refreshing one. Life here can be frustrating, bemusing, hilarious and exciting by turns but I haven’t found it to be overwhelming. Yet. As this is my first time living abroad I was worried that homesickness would be an issue, but the sheer energy of Beijing and the community within Aihua has made me feel at home here in Shijingshan. I give it two weeks before I’m in the park with a whip.  

If you’re reading this, you’re either contemplating moving to China to be an English teacher, or you’re my mom (hi, Mom!). Assuming you are not my mom, there are a great many advantages to living and working in China, but it is still something that requires a lot of thought beforehand. It is not a decision you should make lightly. Today, I’m going to tell you about the most difficult part of coming to China for me; having a long-distance relationship.

My girlfriend and I have been together a number of years, but we’ve never spent that much time away from each other. Moving to China could have put a strain on our relationship and caused us to drift apart emotionally. We were determined to make it work, however, and so far we have managed to stay really close, despite the enormous physical distance between us. Here are some of the things I do (or should have done) to keep our relationship strong:

1)      TALK EVERYDAY This is so important. Talk to him/her every single day. It doesn’t have to be a long conversation, it could be something as small as a couple of text messages. Send pictures, videos, or voice recordings. Try to talk at length at least once a week. This can be tricky because of the time difference, but it’s not impossible. It may require staying up very late, or waking up at an ungodly hour, but it’s worth it to hear their voice in real time.

2)      REMEMBER IMPORTANT DAYS Remember anniversaries, birthdays, and other important events. Call them on these days, and send gifts if the day warrants it. It can be hard to mail things from China, and it usually takes a while to get from A to B, but it will make your loved one feel appreciated. If you are unable to mail something from China, order something from Amazon and have it delivered to their house.

3)      TRUST EACH OTHER Going away for such a long time can lead to feelings of unease; what if they forget about me? What if they meet someone else? What if I come back in a year and the spark is gone? There is no quick, easy answer for this. You have to trust each other.

4)      BE TRUSTWORTHY

Don’t do anything that betrays the trust of your loved one. Don’t cancel a Skype date at the last minute because you want to shoot some pool with your new friends. Your friends won’t mind if you cancel on them, but your significant other won’t like it.

5)      DON’T BE SLAVISHLY DEVOTED TO THEM 24/7 This may run contrary to what I just said, but try not to spend all your time thinking about your loved one and how much you miss them. Go out and have some fun! Make new friends! Do things that you might be unable to do with your significant other, even something simple (mine hates horror movies, so I don’t watch very many at home, but here in China I watch lots of them).

6)      NEVER, EVER GO TO BED ANGRY There will be times when you argue, and that’s okay. It happens. If you are having a fight, try to resolve it before you go to bed. If you are anything like me, going to sleep angry with the person next to you is a rotten feeling; the distance between you compounds this feeling. Always talk it out, even if this means staying up late the night before an early class.

7)      VISIT Plan a visit; either go home to see them, or fly them out to see you. Doing that is special enough, but you should do everything you can to make the visit as amazing as possible. I proposed to my girlfriend when she came over, then brought her to some other cities around China. Even though I was away from home and my family, it was the happiest I’ve been in years.

So that’s my advice. I hope, if this applies to you, that you feel a little better and a little more confident about moving to China. This is what I would probably tell myself if I could send myself some advice, it might have relieved some of my worries. I hope it does the same for you.