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As part of the work visa and living permit application process, I needed to get a physical examination to make sure I hadn't brought any foreign infections into China.

 When filling out the application at the clinic I realized how pointless this was. If I were sick, it was probably from something I caught while living in China for the past two months, not from something I brought from home.

For the exam, I entered six small rooms, answered questions, gave blood, read letters on a wall and had an X-ray taken. And that was it. 

On the way out, I noticed a sign pointing to the clinic. It read "Physical examination" and had an arrow pointing in the direction of the exam area. A closer look revealed the words "for aliens." Physical examinations for aliens. I had to laugh. I'd never thought of myself as an alien before. 
 
I signed the lease today. I can move in next Monday, August 3. I'll have two roommates, and French girl interning with Airbus and a Chinese girl, who I'm pretty sure is a doctor or a nurse.
 
There's a new employee at Beijing Review, and it's not me. The magazine is in the process of hiring more foreign experts. The new guy, Joe Kirschke, called me over the weekend - he too was looking for a place to live. 

We talked for a while and eventually asked me where I was from. I told him Pennsylvania, the Northeast. He said he used to work in Schuylkill County, my home county, for the Pottsville Republican. He covered TAMAQUA SCHOOL BOARD MEETINGS!

 I almost had to put the phone down. Here, in China, thousands of miles from home, I'd found someone who had not only heard of Tamaqua, but had covered meetings in the area. Small world.
 
After accepting the job with Beijing Review I started looking for an apartment... again. This time, I knew what to expect and what strategies to use to get the best price and locations.

I started calling people who listed apartments on the site I used before, in my failed apartment search. Once again, I was shown overpriced, unlivable environments. But soon enough I found the perfect place.

Located less than a block from a subway station on the same line as Beijing Review, the apartment was everything I wanted. It was a duplex, with 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, a shared, fully furnished living room, kitchen and washing machine space. My bedroom was located on the second floor of the duplex and included its own bathroom. It was more than enough space and I fell under my budget for housing.


One of the contacts I've made in Beijing, Ken McManus, a copy editor with South China Morning Post, put me in touch with a friend of his. This friend happens to be a lawyer. When reviewing the lease, he noticed a few irregularities, which will be taken care of soon.


Now all I have to do is find the world-class gym in the area and I'll be all set.
 
Thursdays are Production Day at Beijing Review. That means all the stories must be edited, pages are designed and proofs are printed for the foreign copy editors. 

I would be shadowing another foreign copy editor to learn the process and manage the job the next week by myself.

The process is not much different than reading proofs at previous internships, so everything went smoothly... at first.

The other editor told me he usually finished up around 10 or 11 p.m. It was 8 p.m. and the Chinese editor had just brought me a dinner from one of the local restaurants. This wasn't too bad, I thought as I ate what I thought was chicken.


Then 10 o'clock passed. 11 followed soon thereafter and soon enough it was 2 in the morning. When we finished, the editor in charge said we could have the day off Friday. A wise decision, since I would have just stayed overnight if I had to come back the next morning.
 

I stood in the doorway to Beijing Review, having arrived extra early on my first day of work. This was it, my first job. The fact that I would be spending the next year employed in a foreign country only magnified my excitement. I walked in and headed to the HR department.

After a brief chat with the HR woman who had interviewed me, I was shown around the office and introduced to the staffs. Then, I was guided to a room on the third floor- Room 315.

"Here is your cubicle Mr. Taylor," the woman said.

The words repeated themselves in the daze I found myself in. "My cubicle. My cubicle." There was nothing in this particular cubicle, no phone or even a computer, but it was mine, and that's all that mattered. 


I spent the day chatting with the rest of the staff. I would be copy editing/language consulting on the Business Division. 


Throughout the day, other reporters and editors from the other departments made their way to the Business offices to say hello. I noticed quickly that they were all women. A small group had congregated in one of the other cubicles. They were speaking Chinese but I over heard the words "eye candy" a few times. I had to laugh. "This I could get used to," I thought.


And then it was time to leave. Mondays are relatively easy days, since the reporters are busy working on their articles. Work would pick up on Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday would be the busiest day, as the magazine was proofed and produced. But I was ready. All I needed to do now was find another new apartment.