Post the Sixteenth: Salons and Bites and Rabbis, Oh My!

One of my roomie's many great shirts.

Hello my peoples! I realize that I've been doing a terrible job of keeping up with this blog and I do apologize. The only excuse I have to offer is seeing the latest Harry Potter movie (SOOOO GOOOD and I'm a book loyalist) and writing a 2000+ character summary of the Rural Chinese Healthcare System (yes, all of it). Anyways, here are some shots of Harbin to make up for all of that.

Downtown Harbin. Notice there is NO CLEAR TRAFFIC PATTERN.

The last time I took a cab, our cab drive honked at a police officer before cutting him off and speeding away.

Some things:

• Haircut in China: I got my hair cut about a week and a half ago and I can tell you right now that getting your hair cut in China is one of the scariest and simultaneously rewarding experiences ever. My mother's side of the family is all of African descent, so I have dark curly hair that could be described as "nappy" or "just like a brillo pad" (even though it doesn't). Getting a hair cut from someone who has experienced my type of hair in the US can be enough of a challenge, so getting it done China was almost ludicrous. When I walked into the hair salon, the hairdressers/barbers all took one look at me and called for the owner of the shop. As he walked forward, I calmly (though it probably came out sounding downright scared) asked him if he has ever cut my type of hair before. He did not respond. After examining my hair for a few minutes, he turned to me, his expression grave, and told me that I would have to give him directions. Great. My fear ended up being unnecessary, however, since he did exactly what I told him: make it shorter, don't try to use any special hair products, don't try straightening it, just make it shorter. Scissors in hand, he began to cut my hair to exactly the length I wanted. When enough progress had been made to predict the final result, both of us sighed in relief and began talking to each other (typical "where are you from?" "are you sure you're an American?" "why on earth are you in Harbin?" questions all came up). During this discussion, some of the other hair-people in the shop came by to play with the fallen chunks of hair lying on the floor or else watch our conversation. In the end, I ended up paying $1.25 for a wonderful haircut, a relaxing head-wash, a delightful conversation, and an overall hilarious (in retrospect) experience.
• The Battle of the Night: Every evening at around 11PM, it begins. I'm finishing my last assignments when I begin to notice an itch on my leg. I scratch it absentmindedly, concentrating on the last character strokes of my composition essay. After shutting off the computer and turning out the light, I lay down in my bed and lay my mind to rest. Just as I'm losing consciousness, it happens. Bzzzzt. In an instant I turn on the light and sit bolt upright in bed, my eyes scanning the room. My leg itches again and, after closer inspection, I notice three little pimple-like bites arranged neatly around each other. MOSQUITO. Thus the war begins. It can last anywhere from 15 minutes to two hours and always ends in the death of the offending party. I silently (totally unnecessary) creep around the room while waving a pair of flip-flops near my head (NECESSARY) lest my head or neck get attacked. I check each walk. I check the bed. I check the ceiling. I check my dresser. No part of the room goes without survey. Finally, FINALLY, I find the little bugger. Adrenaline rushes. My heart pounds. I'm am breathing manually. I quickly stalk forward and POUNCE. Two hits usually does the trick, one from each shoe. As the creature twitches in death, I cry in triumph (in Chinese of course) before returning to bed and smiling myself to sleep.
• Last weekend I went to the Jewish quarter with two fellow Yalies. The quarter was really more of a single-building affair: the Jewish Museum. Inside the museum was split into three levels: the first floor with pictures and paintings of old Harbin (though they could have been of any city in China and some of them were definitely done in watercolors), the second floor of actual information (mostly facts about how nice the Chinese were to the incoming Jews), and the third floor made up of a wall of famous Jews (Einstein to Oppenheimer to Spielberg to Olympian Mark Spitz) and an assortment of Jews who had at one point or another come to Harbin. The museum was interesting in itself, not because of the factoids, but due to the very Chinese approach of self-congratulation while talking about something else.

The outside of the Jewish Museum.

Entrance plaque.

A photo of a meeting from the early 20th century taking place in the museum.

Jews arriving in Harbin. Apparently the Chinese were very, very nice.

Here's a reminder of what this museum is all about.

Here's another (Star of David).

Some of the captions were hilarious. This one describes how the Harbin Jews were "very choosy" about their living room displays.

In the West, Jews are stereotyped for being good with money. In Harbin, Jews work "economic miracles".

Note: none of these hundred or so people had ever visited Harbin. I actually doubt any of them had ever heard of it.

Water-bikes!!

Dr. Joseph Rosenfeld helped out the Chinese Army during the 1940's and 1950's by performing life-saving surgeries. I kind of want to be him.

You really can't make this stuff up. Caption reads: "When Xenia Steingard was young and dead in 1939".

Einstein had a little shrine behind a staircase on the way out of the museum. There may or may not have been a word or to about knowledge in his hair.

Tonight I give a five minute presentation on the Rural Chinese Healthcare system to a panel of teachers before cramming for my three finals on Thursday and Friday. Less than a week left in China!

魏德