The China Diaries: Make An Appointment

I find the changes in the mundanities to be the most interesting. In the US, I don't have to translate the buttons on the microwave before I can use it. Nothing makes you feel quite so ineffectual as standing in front of a simple appliance for fifteen minutes, trying to work out what it's telling you.

It's better still when the translation gives you a small giggle. The cleaning powder in the kitchen that translates literally to "Go dirt powder." Computers are called, sensibly enough, "electric brains." The timer portion of the washing machine control panel translates to "make an appointment," which makes me laugh simply for its formality.
The school I work for, English First, has been superb about making me feel welcome in Xi'an. One of the teachers came over my first day to take me around the area. Wednesday night, I met up with all the teachers for a welcome dinner. As it stands now, I am the only member of staff not from the U.K., though another American is inclement, and should be here any day now.