The building ablaze as seen from my apartment window

The aftermath

Only a skeleton remains

Official business (note how the official/guard has three walkie-talkies)

A few thoughts:

• If something like this happened in the U.S., CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, local news, the Twitterati, everyone would be on it. CCTV, on the other hand, is infamous for controlling what news gets broadcasted, though it is clear that with the Internet, news dissemination has become increasingly difficult. As the fire blazed into its third hour, my friend and I turned on CCTV to look for any breaking news regarding a fire. Nothing. Chinese Lantern Festival performances, sports, talk shows, television series, commercials. What if there had been people in that building? How would the news broadcasting companies (including Xinhua) reacted? What were they worried about in the first place?

• I’m a little worried that, if a fireman died from toxic fume/smoke inhalation, how will the rest of us be affected? Granted, he was on-site and probably inhaling a lot of it, but the smoke lingered and floated around Beijing for the next 24 hours or so. Is anyone looking into it?

• I’m hoping that the defiant CCTV officials who ruined a building, threatened public safety (for the time being and possibly long-run, too), and thought they could get away with it are punished accordingly.

• Wondering if this is considered a big blow to state-run media company, as many Chinese netizens have been ridiculing CCTV over the many ironies and catastrophes surrounding the event. Did CCTV get what they deserved?

I can’t wait until reconstruction (if there will be any), because that means DEMOLITION.

I understand what the words that come out of your mouths mean. Want to watch a movie? It means you want to make out. Want to drink tea? It means you want to have sex. Want to come see my house? It means you want to have sex. It’s okay for you to cheat on your wife (and your child), because you have money and status symbols such an Audi and a vrooooom gas-guzzling Land Rover. It’s also okay to do anything you want, because you are a man.

You don’t have to get incite a physical fight with another man over me. Don’t bring baristas who work at your cafe along with you for a night of drinking to show your power over other people. And don’t let them do the fighting for you.

Stop being so clingy. You don’t have to call me 40 times a day (literally) and send me text after text. Much less to confirm whether I got your previous text. It does not work when you cry and tell me you love me, you love me, you really really love me. Showing your desperation really just makes me want to play with your emotions (forgive me). And seriously, if you really wanted to see me, you’d find some other way than through the phone.

I’ve had enough of you, kthxbi!

Sincerely,
Girl who needs her space. Really.

The UN Environment Program released a report last Thursday (side note: good typography, color choices, UN!) about the thick clouds of smog and soot over Asia and the likely effects it has on health, food security, and environmental changes. Due to the unprecedented nature of these noxious brown clouds, the exact consequences of their presence is not confirmed. Regardless of the consequences, it seems like countries are dilly-dallying around until the human/environmental toll is too hard to ignore, which may be years away. By then it will be too late. The world needs to get on this shit, pronto. And seriously this time.

On a related note, though I may not be dying, I am still suffering. Now that I have finished consuming about 200 pills in the past two weeks, I don’t feel much better. I don’t really want to continue taking these pills. For one, I can’t bring myself to trust Western medicine produced in China. Second, I don’t like eating too many antibiotics over a long period of time. I mean, what if I created a mutant bacteria and created the next Avian Flu? Anyways, every time I work out or climb a shit ton of stairs, my throat constricts and I can’t breathe. I still have phelgm that impedes my breathing, but it’s so deep that I can’t cough it up. I wonder how I will survive in Beijing.

So while the world is working on fixing itself, and while I’m still living in China, I think it’s time for me to invest in a gas mask. I wonder if they have them in neon pink, yellow, and blue (Chinese hipsters?).

It’s already pretty messed up that government officials munch on pure, organic food while letting the masses suffer (population control conspiracy, anyone?). But are they the only ones to blame for the scandal? I see some blame on every level of the manufacturing chain.

First, many milk farmers are often pressured to satisfy the growing demand for milk from consumers, while they also face decreased profits from government-induced price decreases. How are they to make more milk when they cannot proportionally increase the number of cows they have to meet demand? Farmers aren’t notorious for being rich themselves, how do we know how well they’re feeding their cows? A lack of modernization of farming supplies may also affect their milk turnout.

Second, those who make melamine for industrial use should know who their customers are, and what they intend on using melamine for. Though I see the possible counterargument for this (is it their job to know who they sell to? Money is money), after the dog food scandal last year, the melamine producers should be a little more careful about who they sell their product to. And perhaps melamine producers are also looking for

Third, companies who have known about the addition of melamine since December 2007 kept hush-hush about the issue. They ignored complaints by (or offered hush money to) individuals who suspected something wrong with their milk. They’re rumored to have pressured farmers to produce more milk to meet demand, and they’re suspected to have had connections with melamine producers.

And lastly, the central government’s weak grasp on their quality control initiatives are to blame. Who the hell gives out “free passes” for quality control tests? It sounds like an open invitation to adulterate food for more profit. I am also disappointed that the Chinese government never does anything until something explosively bad happens. Then, they go 100% all out to control the problem, but within a year, things go back to the way they used to be. They will be waiting for the next public health disaster to sprout up.

A New York Times editorial by Bee Wilson divulged information about America’s dirty food past and contrasted it with present-day China. She argued that places experiencing rapid growth and seeking wealth are often look for (harmful) alternatives to meet demand, to make more money. I hope that China’s food system–from the bottom up and from the top down–gets better soon.

In other news, I just bought a carton of Mengniu milk produced on September 18. Hopefully, the milk gods are on my side…at least for the time being.

As a side note, I do think it’s pretty hilarious how Yili describes these yogurts:

Targeted Consumers: The products are mainly designed for urban white-collar ladies aged 23 to 35, who care more about their appearances, has certain consuming capacity, seek for a better life quality and pay more attention to the exquisite details and superior mental experience. They are also fashionable and pay attention to health and individual personalities.
Taste: Elegant Plain, Moist Aloe-Flavored,  Skin-Regenerating Blueberry-Flavored

And for their lowfat milk:

It is for married women who are 26-45,who pay attention to the body and the health. They buy for their children and themselves.

I’m kind of loving the whole arbitrary age groups. But anyway, food in China seems never to be up to par, and I’m seriously considering altering my diet to include more imported foods, regardless of price. I’d rather pay $7 for a box of cereal than pay $7,000 for a hospital bill. It’s too bad that I come to China hoping to immerse myself within its culture, but find myself having to find ways to avoid certain Chinese things. I don’t mean to say this with the idea that American everything is the best there can be. Of course it isn’t. Indeed, much of what I use and consume in the States is “Made in China.” Additionally, we also have our own food and product crises.

I just wish that the Chinese weren’t always in it for the quick profit (sound familiar, Wall Street? Learn this lesson from the Chinese, will ya?), and weren’t willing to trick consumers into believing something is perfectly fine when it’s not.

China’s notion that they can substitute harmful ingredients for real ones just for the sake of profit is seriously one that needs to be shed. Unfortunately, changing a culture 1.3 billion strong is immensely difficult, as can be seen in my futile attempt to convince Chinese citizens that I’m really not a Korean. Really.

After allergy/virus/bacterial infection was diagnosed, I have been asked to take:
a. antibiotics
b. nasal spray
c. antacids
d. antihistamines
e. asthma inhalers

So, if you could please expel whatever you need to expel from your system and let me carry on with my life, I would greatly appreciate it. This can be done very easily without having to react with violent coughing fits, restricted airways, and general shittiness. And please tell Phlegm to stop squatting in my esophagus. 

Sincerely,
Girl who probably has a life expectancy of 30-years-old
a.k.a.
Girl who should probably live in an airtight bubble 

I hope that with the upcoming election in four months and other world developments in the next few years, the United States will begin to recover from the many setbacks and plunders it’s faced in the past eight years.

Tonight I was peacefully sitting in my room, working on something menial or reading McSweeney’s and listening to music when I see a big brown object scuttle across the carpet. I turn to see that a waterbug/cockroach* was lunging towards me. What the fuck? Do these things just follow me wherever I go? 

Granted, I’m not as scared as when I faced Juicy Wingy McJuicerroach back when I lived in the Lower East Side, but that doesn’t detract an ounce of hatred I have for them. Die, die, DIE….but not around me. It ran back and forth and back and forth in the corner of my room for a really long time. I didn’t want to kill it on the carpet so I was hoping it would eventually make its way back out the room to the tiled floor.

Unfortunately, it hasn’t come out yet. In fact, I don’t even know where it is anymore. It’s not in the corner anymore, not on the walls, nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it ran under my bed? Under my sheets? I’m hoping that my roommate comes home any minute to help me, help me, HELP ME!

* I’d love to make the distinction for you but there’s no way I’m about to stare at photos of these creatures to find their anatomical differences and compare them to what I saw in my room.

Some point during the week, I realised that I was also getting bumps on my body. I, being the psychosomatic nutcase that I am, self-diagnosed myself as having bedbugs. Once I did so, I started itching all over and noticing more red bumps show up. If that wasn’t enough, late Thursday evening, an American cockroach (you know, the huge, 2-inch long ones with wings, the one that can run up to 3.3 mph) crawled, ran, and flapped its horrible, horrible wings in my apartment and proceeded to give me a panic/anxiety attack. We probably made eye-to-antennae contact a few times when I shouted in dread whenever it moved.

How could I ever imagine sleeping with that (and potentially thousands more lurking in the building) crawling all over the place? I was going to make a run for it. The insect took a temporary leave behind some boxes on the far wall of the kitchen. I bolted into the bedroom to gather my essentials when it zooms back into my room. I am cornered into the bathroom.

Cue war cry and hysterical spraying of Raid Ant and Cockroach spray.

I was immobilized for forty or so minutes in the bathroom. Scared that any moment, it would pop up right by my toes. I finally convinced myself to grab everything, not look back, and get out.

And so began my three days as a homeless person.

It was about 2:30, 3 a.m. in the morning. I call 311, NYC’s local assistance line.
Me: Do you have any numbers of places I can stay tonight?
311 Operator: What? You mean like a homeless shelter?
Me: I’m not homeless….I meant a hotel.

I stayed at three different places on three different nights. First, I intruded on a friend of a friend’s apartment. I was relieved to know that I did not have bedbugs. This, unfortunately, did not solve the cockroach problem. The following day I didn’t go near my apartment. I booked lunches, dinners, apartment viewings, and arranged to sleep at another friend’s place.

Unfortunately again, I barely slept last night because one of her roommates found bed bugs. This time it was legit. Shit, I thought, where am I going to go at 4 a.m. in the morning? There was no way I was going to lie down on the couch in the common room. I tried calling hostels; I tried walking back and forth for as long as I could to pass the time; I contemplated sleeping at a 24-hour Starbucks or a train station; I also thought I could ride the subway back and forth until morning. Around 5:30 a.m., I passed out for twenty to thirty minutes on the kitchen table, where flies from the neighboring trash pile landed on my body.

I caved. I laid down for a few minutes, but then the flies started to land on my body again. It was about 6:30 a.m. I got up. Soon after, I noticed two white/reddish welts on my body. The fucking bedbugs! I left the apartment immediately.

It was a long, long, looonnng morning and afternoon. I could be standing and I’d start nodding off. But, wait, it ends well: I found a wonderful place in Astoria, Queens that I can immediately move into.

It was hard to stay positive throughout this entire process. Many times I broke down and cried, wishing that I could be home or with a friend. I was grateful for the emotional support I received from friends, but it was hard to fight this battle physically alone. I’m trying to put it all behind me, but there won’t be a moment in these coming weeks when I don’t mistake a black dot on the ground or a piece of dark lint on my shirt for a cockroach.