Professional

Purely by chance, I landed my first job as a professional actor in China.

A factory that makes high-tech dentistry chairs was making a training video for their sales staff, and was insistent that the "dentist" and "nurse" be white people. The video's producer resides here in the Kai Yin complex. The producer's wife happen to run into Andrew's dad, who referred her to us. So, the next day, Sienna and I found ourselves taking a car ride to the town of Zhuhai, sandwitched between the coast of the Pearl River and Macau.



I was dressed in a dentist's smock, my hair was tied back, and I was told I required no make-up. Everything I did, from putting on my rubber gloves to taking a sip of coffee seemed to elicit rolls of giggles from the entire staff of the production crew and factory office. I felt a bit like a circuis freak.

The video required no dialogue, hence no requirement that we speak chinese. All I was to do, was go through a series of overly displayed actions that illustrated the features and convenience of the self-contained dentistry examination tool.



After a couple of hours, we broke for lunch. They took us to a seafood resturaunt just accross from the factory.



I found myself wondering, what is it like to have the job of wrestling down a crab and tying it's claws down. Is there, somewhere out there, a battle hardened crab wrestler who still has nightmares about the one that took off a finger as it escaped?

The lunch break lasted longer than the first shooting shift. Sienna and I had to tell them, over and over again, that we did not require a nap. Once the rest of the crew felt sufficiently rested, we returned to the studio to snap still shots for the catalouge.

All was said and done. We were paid our salary (2500 yuan each) in cash, and driven home.

Quite proud of myself, I told Princess all about it. She responded with concern, and asked if I had gotten any signed papers saying I was not responsible for the business practices of the factory. I asked her why such a thing would concern me.

She told me of an occasion, some years ago, where a miracle-grow type fertilizer was advertised all over china as being able to expidite the growing of corn. Most of West China being farm country, the product sold very well. That is, until it was found out by china's farmers to be no good. Apparently, farmers around the country traveled to the Beijing to confront and threaten the life of the actor that was showcased in the commercials for the product. It had gotten so bad, that the gentleman in question chose to fake his death and move to Hong Kong.

At first, I was shocked and appalled at the complete ineptitude of the Chinese Farming Community. Then, I remembered all of the full grown adults that I had met in America that actually beleive Professional Wrestling is real.

It reminded me of a play I once saw many years ago. I don't remember the title of the play, only that it was an odd little argument of Elitism vs. Democracy. In this, a local scientist is trying to get a hot springs resort to close down amid his discovery of the springs toxicity. The local community overrules his demands in light of the commercial benifits the springs bring to the town.

"The people have spoken," they say to him, "and this is a Democracy. In Democracy, majority rules."

"But, isn't that the problem," he responds, "No matter where you go in this world, a majority of the people are stupid."

Shameless Self-Promotion

The job that facilitated my arrival into China has become all but non-existent. I was employed by a friend's father to teach his Chinese sales staff how to speak English with more proper pronunciation. However, business has not been kind to this little company, and I find myself with less and less to do during the work-week.

Well, I've already arranged a new job. Starting the 1st of September, I'll be an official English Teacher. A local school that specializes in training Chinese Citizen for work in Austrailian owned hotels learned of my long and painful history in the American Hotel Industry, and all but fell over themselves to get me on their faculty. Apparently I've already become the subject of much talk among the other teachers, since I have been offered a large stack of benefits that none of them would ever dream of even asking for.

In the meantime, I'm spending my time at the Home Office, trying to build promotion for FrogFaith, in order to facilitate the gathering of investor money for our movie project.

To start with, I've cut a trailer.

More Exciting is a short film made by the FrogFaith gang just before I joined up with them in Chicago. I had absolutely nothing to do with it's production. But, since we're trying to get the word out on FrogFaith's capabilities, we're making the entire short film (all 30 minutes of Black and White fun) available for free download on our film site.

Considering the size of the file, I volunteered to edit together a "Theatrical Trailer" for the movie, in order to help folks decide if they want to trouble with the download or not.

I'm rather proud of myself, if I do say so.



I just felt like showing off.

Catch

Well, I know you all figured it was bound to happen sooner or later. I have met a wonderful young Chinese girl, who has managed to wrangle me away from "the single life."

This is Princess. A Zhongshan native and recent college graduate, with a focus on Business Law.

It was all her doing. She set her sights on me and took me down like a 10 Point elk.

Granted, I didn't put up much of a fight.

Eye Ching

I needed new contact lenses. So, it was time for me to become a part of the Communist Health Care System.

I'd dealt with something similar before. Having been a part of the Oregon Health Plan for many years as a low-income citizen, I had grown acustomed to long waits and teenage "doctors."

How bad could it be, I asked myself.

I borrowed a girl from the office, Jaimie, to act as my guide and translator for this little adventure. She wasn't too excited at the idea of being the Guela Babysitter for a day, but work has been slow at the office and I think she was just a little thankfull to actually have something to do.

Not to mention that I had actually gone a week with no lenses at all, since I accidentally left my glasses in The States. So, she was almost literally leading me around by the hand.

We took the bus into town, and a taxi from the bus stop to the medical center. The first thing I noticed was the seriously cool looking tree at the front gate.



"You just took a picture of a tree," she says to me. I couldn't tell if she was grinning or frowning.

"Yeah," I say, "It's cool."

"Hai ya," she said. As far as I can tell, that's the Chinese equivalent of saying "Jesus Christ" in disbeleif.

"We don't have trees like that in America," I say. I put on my favorite "I know I'm a dork, and that's your problem" smile.

She shrugged (or twitched) and led me to the main entrance.

Just inside the main door, there was a podium where two nurses stood. They wore light blue nurses uniforms that looked like they came from a cheap halloween store. Jaimie wouldn't let me take a picture of them.

A quick conversation between Jaimie and the nurses, and she led me to the proper line to stand in.

Ah, I thought, just like mother russia.

Much to my surprise, the line moved very quickly, and within 2 minutes I was signing my name to a peice of paper. The rest of the form was in Chinese, and Jaimie filled it out for me. For all I know, I had just made Jaimie the executor to my living will.

Moments later, I was given a card with number on it. This was my new Chinese Medical Card. With this, every state hospital in the country would be able to pull up my medical history. I was floored. When I did this back in Oregon, it took over a month.

Then, we got into another line. I don't know what this one was for but when we got to the front, I signed another peice of paper. This one probably gave Jaimie the rights to my kidneys.

Finally, we went upstairs to the optometry department. When Jaimie told the receptionist that I was here for an eye exam, the receptionist actually looked shocked that we were talking to her. There was some back and forth before Jaimie finally said, "I guess we just go back there and find a doctor that is free."

You're kidding me, right?

We wandered back into the doctors' offices and found one that wasn't busy. There was more conversation between Jaimie and the doctor, until he finally turned to me.

"You want to know the level of your myopia?"

Myopia? This guy knew more English than me.

"Uh, yeah," was all I said.

He nodded, took my card, and typed away at his computer for a moment. When he was done, he turned to Jaimie.

"He says to go back downstairs and pay," she told me, "then come back up for your exam."

And so, back downstairs we went. Back in line. Threw down about 40 yuan. Then, back upstairs again. All the while, every time I turn a corner another local jumps back at the sight of me.

I give the doctor the slip that says I paid, and he leads me back to the exam room.

Before I go, I hand Jaimie my iPod, so she won't get too bored while I'm gone.

"How does it work?" She asks. I forgot that nobody in China has ever seen an iPod yet. To save time, I simply put the songs on "Shuffle," hit play, and showed her the volume controls.

As I'm walking away, she says "I hope you die."

"Excuse me," I say.

She holds the iPod up to me. Sure enough, the first song to play was "I Hope You Die" by The Bloodhound Gang.

"Uh, yeah," I say, "It's a happy song." And promptly left the room.


Jaimie and the iPod

The exam was not the kind I was accustomed to. First I was told to look into a machine where a small picture moved in an out of my focus. I did this for each eye. Somehow, this was enough for the doctor to narrow down the general feild of my vision.

Next, I sat on a stool and faced a basic eye chart. The doctor placed a set of empty black frames on my face, then slid a series of lenses into place, asking me to read the smallest line I could.

When we finally settled on the right lenses he says, "Okay, now walk around with these on for about five minutes."

What? I thought. Is it 'Mess With The Guela' Day?

So, I head back to where Jaimie is waiting and I hand her my camera. "Take a picture of me," I say. With the lenses on, I can now clearly see her roll her eyes at me.



After she takes the picture, I sit down. The doctor sees me sitting and says, "No, you need to walk around. Go downstairs to the main doors, then come back."

Okay, I think, it is definately 'Mess With The Guela' Day.

Ten minutes later, the doctor is writing out a 'scrip for my new lenses.

Next was a trip across the street to what seemed to be the Chinese version of LensCrafters. When lookig over the contact lenses catalogue, I had another cultural hiccup.

"So these are 85 yuan per set?"

Jaimie talked to the sales woman, then turned back to me.

"No, they are 85 yuan for one."

"85 yuan for one lens?

"Yes."

"So, if I want so see out of both eyes, it's 170 yuan?"

"Yes."

"Hai ya," I said.

I managed to walk out of there with 3 months worth of contacts for only 200 yuan.

While waiting for the bus back home, Jaimie suddenly pipes up. "Why did you take a picture of the tree?"

"I told you, it looks cool."

"Really? It's just a tree."

"Yeah, to you. You've lived here all your life. I've never seen a tree like that before. Just wait till you get to America, you'll be taking pictures of everthing."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."




"You just took a picture of the sidewalk."

"I know."