China Letter 2 - ‘Měi guó rén,’ American - 8/9/25 - 8/12/25 - Jin ri zi du, Qingdao
Dear Reader,
First sights of Qingdao were from the taxi that drove me from the airport to the real estate agent's office who found me my apartment. I might have looked down on the land from the airplane that went from Seoul after my layover, but that flight was not made for looking around for two reasons. For one thing it was a pretty roundabout and turbulent flight that flew toward a thunderstorm. We departed late, and when we got to Qingdao airport we kept circling the airport while the pilot radioed to us several times that we were not permitted to land due to heavy rain and lightning, and we ended up having to land at Dalian International Airport (45 minutes north by plane), then we eventually got to Qingdao by 4PM instead of 10AM. Another reason I didn't feel like looking out of the plane window is I was super nervous about getting my cat through customs. Head on my dinner tray, I listened to my heart intently, caught up on sleep, and forgot the South Korean veterinarian, Dr. L**, who made Spyridon remain quarantined in the airport instead of accepting the digital health certificate. The cat was then still in his carrier at my feet after 24 hours without a break in South Korea. I learned to present all the paperwork at once instead of one piece. When we finally landed, I was so pleasantly surprised, and needless to say blessed and relieved, when only polite and helpful people at Chinese customs, who Spyridon did not even hiss at, photographed his paperwork and allowed the cat entrance to China.
So we are here!
I am so relieved and grateful, as getting to Qingdao has been a long time coming.
Imagine, my four year old tabby cat traveled to China; surely you can do great things that take risks, too.
On the highway, from the taxi, I saw gray sky and buildings that have a particular trait of Chinese buildings; nameless, unadorned, practical structures, looking like they are in a state of decay. Perhaps it is a lack of overcompensation that I appreciate, or maybe the appreciation for utility rather than gimmick that I don't mind.
The highway signs showed other ‘daos’ in the Shandong province. Dao, 岛, a word meaning 'island.' There's Huangdao and Chidao within Qingdao.
So far, besides the Pinyin (Chinese in Roman characters), the language on signs, Hanzi, 汉字, looks as if written there in a dream. I continue to admire the beauty of the characters and want to learn and understand, but learning Chinese is one of those ‘you can’t do it all at once’ situations. Even if people start to download such things to themselves, that will start to diminish the merits of a learning process and the possibility that comes with being curious. The big silent Chinaman who drove me from the airport reached in front of me to slide back my seat and laughed. “Měi guó rén,” 美国人, American, that’s me. Měi, meaning beautiful, guó, meaning country, rén, meaning person. If America means beautiful country in this language that should dispel any notion that Americans are not encouraged. The quiet taxi man brought me to my district, Chengyang. The real estate office was a small one in a strip of stores. I met with Kong and A*****, the agent and my colleague, and soon enough I was in my new apartment in an area called Jin ri zi du, down the road from the real estate office.
From here it is a fifteen minute walk to the West Gate of Qingdao Agricultural University, which I can see from window. There are basketball courts. The library is the tallest building on campus. Beyond I can see the Lao mountain range on the city’s perimeter.
The first three days consisted of long walks. Sunday I explored my village Jin ri zi du; I call it a village, though there's probably some better architectural term as it’s got many buildings and shops. It’s not a development. Jin ri zi du is a village of golden apartment buildings. I live on the 13th floor of building 14. Here are so many families, old folks who watch their grandchildren all day, boys and girls running about discussing in Chinese, and adults keeping the order and life going, selling yummy breakfast bread puffs for less than a dollar, offering huge watermelons in a wagon, walking about, commuting, parenting, or manning shops. There's a work-out park with pull up bars. A basketball court. A green pond. Walkways. A small school room. A pet shop. One restaurant. Three convenient / grocery stores with slightly different products where I can get basics and have been gathering what I need. Then, out on the avenue, there's a row of more stores including a bigger grocery store. I should distinguish that though these are the functions of these places, a school or restaurant, they are not commercial nor very adorned and are primitive, which I think is cool but very different than a shopping plaza or gravitating toward a name brand. Granted I also can’t read the writing on these places.
Cicadas can be heard screaming in the trees through the days, with an average temperature in the high 80s. The cicadas are this loud in the Summer and Fall, I’ve gathered. And people eat them. Maybe that’s why they’re so loud and incessant.
I'm a quarter mile from Goucha Station, 沟岔站, the penultimate stop on Line 1 of the metro. Among other things, I found a 24 hour billiard room down the avenue that reeked like cigarettes.
Monday I registered my address with the police department and had a health check. The nurse didn’t give me a bandaid or gauze after she drew blood, just a q-tip.
Then I walked for a long time. Stopped in some restaurant for lunch cause it looked rustic, or brown at least, and got some fried chicken and chili meal that I saved in my backpack. I must have covered 10 to 12 miles after that. I walked toward the ocean, and I saw the coastline for the first time, the olympic area, the ocean, where men scuba off a seawall, a public beach. By the olympic area, there are nice businesses, name brands, malls, etc. That’s where the tourists must go, but, ironically I guess, the tourists are Chinese themselves.
By about 3PM I made it to St. Michael's Cathedral. I must have passed by a million people.
I’d like to note I see the youth wearing crosses.
It was an hour long metro ride from the nearest metro stop to St. Michael’s back to Jin ri zi du.
Tuesday, I set out to the bank and a pet store. After I bought kitty litter and kibble, the clerk gave me free cat treats. What a nice lad. The cat food seems great. My boy, Spyridon, will be spoiled now.
He’s an international cat.
Qingdao is one of China’s biggest cities. Everything tends to be much farther away than it looks on a map or even by eye. I get lost, but what can I expect? Getting the lay of the land is like learning a language in that you have to break it down into parts and appreciate that your first time with each destination or new word is not going to establish your mastery. Play the long game, with people, with everything. Be easy. I am making my home here. 不用担心, bú yòng dān xīn, is ‘Don’t Worry’.
Among the learning curves, I now have a gas stove. The flavors, the kitchenware, and the ingredients are new to me, but I have managed a good meal or two already; some burnt rice, but hey.
As we know, there is also The Great Firewall of China, so part of getting settled is figuring out what means of communication will work. For now, this means works, but if it takes changing the means for China Letters, I’ll figure that out.
To reply, email nicholasthepoodlebooks@outlook.com. No more gmail.
All’s well in China. We got here.
Best,
Nick