(Haven’t read the “Conversations with Chinese Part One”? Click here)
We entered the United Family Hospital, which is a fantastic hospital in Beijing where the doctors speak English (Western medicine with Western prices). Andrea tried to push me in a wheelchair but couldn’t tackle the hill, so her fiancée took the reigns and ran me up to the entrance. We wheeled down the hall to the emergency room and everyone stared, probably because they had never seen a young woman in a wheelchair (it felt weird).
The nurses asked me the basic information while I tried not to cry. A young girl (guestimate: 10 years old) spoke a European language into a phone and then walked over to me and asked me in perfect English, “Does it hurt?” She told me her sister had broken her ankle and was in the other room. I had no idea who this girl was, where she was from, and how many languages she spoke, but she made every effort to console me during our short two minute conversation.
I was wheeled into a room and I very carefully placed myself on the bed. I essentially cried (off and on) for three hours last night because I’m a baby and can’t handle pain. The nurse cleaned the wound, and her light touch was enough to make the tears rain. I cursed my low pain tolerance. The doctor came in and touched my knee a little too hard. I cried some more.
I waited a long while for the next step, and Andrea came and sat with me for a bit. We talked about Chinese culture and how I felt spending the whole year here. “I felt like everything was new and exciting last semester. There was so much I didn’t know about China,” I told Andrea. “I still think coming back for a second semester was the best decision. But I miss Georgetown. I miss my friends.” Andrea smiled and said that everyone she knew who came here ended up feeling that way. “By the second semester, nothing is new so they think China is boring.” One of the TBC directors had stayed for seven years. Andrea told me, “By the end of it, right before she left she told me that she wanted to burn down Building 6.” (The foreign student dorm where TBC’s Student Life office is housed) Andrea and I laughed.
We talked about how expensive the tuition is at Georgetown and how intense the students are about academics. Then we talked about how Andrea had wanted to study classical Chinese, but her parents told her she had to study finance “for the money.” “Finance is so boring,” Andrea told me. “I can’t stand Accounting. In three years I have not a single record of my expenses. I just don’t care.”
Andrea was studying part-time to get her masters in Investment. “My dad offered to pay my tuition but I don’t want him to,” said Andrea. “Why?” I asked. “Because if he pays my tuition, then my parents will tell me what to study, who to date, how to spend my money.” We commiserated over the pitfalls of being financially dependent on your parents. Though I thanked my lucky stars that I was given parents who respected my decision to major in English (never mind that my chances of having to live underneath a bridge are exponentially higher).
Andrea’s dad is a lawyer. “What’s the most respected profession in China?” I asked. Andrea though about it, “Professor. I think they are the most respected.” She thought some more, “Or any job that can earn a lot of money.”
Lawyers were pretty respected though. “My dad used to practice on his own but now he works for the government.” Andrea mentioned the cases where people sued the government for demolishing their homes. “Oh, like the hutongs in Beijing,” I said. Andrea nodded. “So your dad represents the government in these cases?” “Yes,” Andrea replied.
Continue reading…Part Three
