"Can you hear me now?"

There was an earthquake in Taiwan a couple of nights ago. We barely felt it here in Zhongshan. We were all in the office, working on respective projects, when I suddenly felt a little vertigo.

I turned to Sienna, "Is it just me, or is the building shaking?" I asked.

She waited for a moment, "Yeah it is," she said.

"Uh oh, it's an earthquake" Andy said, facicously. "We better start running around in cirlcles."

"You do that," I said, "I'll light the furnature on fire and push it over the balcony."

We had just complained to the landlord of a clogged drain, and we assumed that the rocking of the building was due to the building crew having it out with the underground pipes. It was an easy mistake, as we all knew China still had a lot to learn about architechture, engineering, and foundations (and plumbing).

Over the next few hours, though, I noticed the internet was acting funny. And when I say "acting funny," what I mean is "not there."

I didn't worry about it all that much. Our computers are ad hoc constructs of factory rejected parts that have been Frankensteined together by Andy and his McGuyver-like prowess with chewing gum and lotus leaves. So, when something goes ker-flunky, it's usually just a matter of waiting a few minutes, maybe hitting a reset button or two, and everything will be back to "normal" eventually.

But, the problem persisted. Until we noticed two things; A) Chinese websites were loading perfectly, and b) Google.com was loading perfectly. Everything else was coming up as "connection timed out" or "server reset," which usually means "Censored by China."

So, now we're starting to panic a bit. We tried a dozen web sites. Nothing. We started making up .com names that we new had to be out there, like "dirtbusters.com" or "freelegaladivice.com" and the like. Still nothing.

"Oh my god," I said, "They finally done it, they've censored the world." This assumtion was an easy leap from the news I had heard the day before: China has declared their meteorlogical data as a matter of national security. Meaning, anyone that gives information on China's climate changes to anyone outside China get's the privilage of serving the people at a Re-Education Camp. (By the way, it's getting a little chilly over here. Can someone send me a sweater?)

But the news finally came through to us; There actually was an earthquake, and it tore apart all of the underwater cables between China and Taiwan, efectively cutting China's international communication pipelines in half.

And now, with half the bandwidth to work with, China Telecom is giving priority to established businesses, putting small businesses and residents in the back of the queue. So, it wasn't that the pages weren't loading, they were just loading so slow that Firefox decided they weren't worth it.

Current estimates are 3-5 days before the cables are repaired. I'm going stir-crazy, because while we're waiting for this to get fixed, I've got no way to read the news, download my podcasts, or even get my daily crossword from Yahoo Games.

And yet, here I am. You're probably wondering how I'm able to update ye olde blog with no access to the outside world. As I mentioned before, Google.com was among the websites that loaded just fine along with the local Chinese websites. And I'm not talking about Google.cn, I mean the good old American Google.COM.

Somehow, (and I'm no 1337 so I've got no way of knowing how it works) Google is the one ".com" that didn't let us down. All hail the great and powerful "Goog." Somebody buy those guys a pizza.

This matters because blogspot.com and blogger.com are both owned by Google, and therefore my only means of communication at this time. My international phone line was VoIP based, and so it is kaput until China and Taiwan start talking to each other again.

TTFN

Tiyu Lu

Well, the gang and I have moved ourselves from the far-away suburbs of Kai Yin. No more half-hour bus rides into town to get anything done, no more having to worry about getting any snacks or soda before the only store closes at 8pm, no more having to clear any visitors past an impressively gestapo security force. We are now living in Zhongshan proper, smack dab in the middle of downtown. To top it off, we're paying half the rent; 1300 yuan a month, about 200 dollars US.

We now live on the seventh floor of a building on Tiyu Lu, which translates to "Sports Road," named that because we are directly across the street from the Zhongshan People's Sports Center.

View from the front balcony:


I haven't seen much in the way of private gyms here in Zhongshan, probably because of this place. A stadium, a track an feild, several tennis and basketball courts, an indoor workout center, a giant open blacktop for Tai Chi, and even a set of outdoor workout equipment that look like a cross between a Bally's and a gradeschool playground.

I have not yet taken the time to visit this area for two reasons, a) I still feel self conscious when mixing with the locals, as no matter what I am doing they look at me like I'm a monkey trying to use a speak-and-spell, and b) I live on the seventh floor of a building with no elevator.

But, it seems like this is the place to go for any sort of physical training. For instance, every morning at 7am sharp the local People's Security go out into the feild to run drills with their riot gear.



When I first moved here to China, I was a little dissapointed. I had always had an image in my mind as to what life was like here; rustic, minimalized, a nation-wide no-frills community. I didn't get that in Kai Yin, where the towns wealthiest people chose to live. It was almost exactly like living in an American Retirement community in California or Florida. I had become worried that I had missed out on Authentic Chinese Living. The recent opening of Western Trade to China has caused a serious change to China's culture, and I was sure that all things "China" had already taken their leave by the time I had gotten here.

I was wrong. Upon moving into my new room, I discovered that I have my own private balcony that looks out over the allyway behind our building. It looks exactly like the China I had always imagined.

Cityscape

By popular request, here are some pictures of the city of Zhongshan, as seen from the windows of my office at the school.

Click on the pictures to view them in their high-resolution, smog-filled glory.