Pieces of my China

This is the Santa that my city puts eeeeverywhere. See his bling? SO much cooler than our St. Nick.

My apartment entrance. My bedroom window is the one adorned with sunshine. (take the symbolism as far as you want to go, I don't mind.)

That is also my heater that makes a sound comparable to the Titanic at full speed, and will see the same fate if it isn't fixed soon. grrr....

There is also a large enough hole in my concrete wall that allows the heating tube into my bedroom. I don't think the builders anticipated a sparrow fitting through the hole as well. News for them: sparrows do, and like to, especially at 6:30am. The worst alarm in the world is having a trapped bird swooping over your head as you lay in bed.

(...what the...?!)

Here is Heidi, my wonderful team mate and dear friend. On HER left is our apartment building. Directly behind it is Dongda's older, dirt track and soccer field. The red brick building behind Heidi is the new dorm that includes our preferred cafeteria for easy, convenient meals.

On Heidi's right is a small building- the equivalent to a dumpster in America.

This is also the road where the rat was killed, where the sale of honey is loudly announced at 7:30 in the morning, where all the grandmothers of the neighborhood gather and talk, watching their grand children waddling around, and where our students walk us back to our apartments after English Corner. :)

This is the road outside one our entrances to our neighborhood. These blue stalls line the street allllllllllllll the way to the corner, which, if you can see in the distance, is a long way off.

Heidi inspecting/befriending someone's dinner. (butchered on the spot, if so desired.)

You can get anything on this stretch- and it changes from day to day.

One of my favorite stalls. They roast the nuts and seeds right on the street, and have a myriad of choices available. Always smells really yummy too :)

What you are looking at now is our favorite restaurant on the left, and our most convenient grocery stop. But I don't know that man, so don't ask. These store fronts are directly across from Heidi's chicken friends.

This restaurant is so good. Any further description on the quality of food would come off as trite to me, so that stops there. The inside of the restaurant is tiiiiny, with a bootleg make-up of tables and chairs and pictures that aren't accurate depictions of the chinese food they serve. The owners are a younger married couple with two sons. The sons hang out with all the diners, and are either studying hard, or watching their favorite TV show: Dora the Explorer. (They aren't learning Spanish; Dora speaks English, and is teaching them English words in Chinese. Wrap your cultural cortex around THAT. Go Dora, Go.)

Ugh. The food is SO GOOD.

The Grocery store is owned by a women who makes very obvious observations about us based on what we buy. (ahahahahahaa.... he really likes blueberry.... hahahaaha) She's endearing, and stocks our favorite ice cream treats for us, knowing exactly how to attract us to her store. Very sweet :)

So that's it for this post. But now that I have my VPN, I will be able to upload many more pictures at a time, and blogging won't feel so far away anymore.

I'm Thankful :)

Post from November 30

Since I've been in China for over three months now, I'm keenly aware of the contrast between America and China. At no other time does that contrast become the starkest as when there is an American Holiday that isn't even on China's radar. That isn't to say I expect it to be, or am indignant that it isn't. :) It just makes me miss home and my mother's stuffing all the more.

Ahhh.... Thanksgiving. So, in honor of this holiday that is absent in the mind of the Chinese, but swelling in the hearts of Americans, I have decided to write on what I am thankful for- at this time, in this country, on this campus, and in my life.

(this list is not in any particular order except for what might be more enjoyable to write about. Don't get too analytical.)

Number One: Peelers. For potatoes, apples, carrots, etc. For our American Thanksgiving, I made apple pie. And the peeling of the apples took waaaaaay too much time for me to feel NOT embarrassed when writing this. I could have gone out and purchased one, but the apples were washed, the dough was made, and my music was already playing. I didn't want to leave and admit that I had forgotten that crucial, time-saving detail. So I peeled ever so slowly with a knife. Shoot. If they didn't exist already, my angst and frustration would have been enough momentum to create one right then and there. Best invention after the wheel, hands down.

Number Two: Skype. I can't imagine only communicating with family and friends via mail. It takes over a month for a letter to arrive (if it does at all) and about two and a half weeks for a package to arrive. With email and skype, I'm living in real time! It truly is amazing, when knowing that my parents lived in Colombia for two years without any of this modern communication. This is a completely different world... and I am thankful for it.

Number Three: English being my native tongue. We have a messed up language. Seeing/hearing my students struggle continuously with nuanced rule-breaking words and structures makes me ever-grateful that I was born into this language. And the fact that it is considered a lingua franca , we have an incredible advantage globally.

Number Four: My Nationality. The freedoms that come with it. The structure of our government. The norms, mores, and expectations that I have of my American legal system and society. Yes, yes, yes, there are goods and bads in everything... but seriously. The contrast between my students relationship to their government and society and my relationship to mine is so very stark. Am I biased? DUH. Am I blessed? DUH. … enough said.

Number Five: How little pressure I felt as a college student, high school student, and student in general. Imagine the competition that every student feels in this country when there are over 1.3 billion residents on mainland China alone. ALL THEY DID WAS STUDY in high school. And it's not over in college. We have such different educational structures based on many factors. I'm completely grateful for my educational experience in America.

Number Six: Six kids??? My family still shocks my students. :) four nephews and four nieces? Haaaaa... it's fun. I’m so thankful for you all.

Number Seven: Advil Cold and Sinus. I was sick and in bed for about four days total, and am still recovering now. I'm almost back in full swing, but yet am sleeping about ten hours per night. I'll get there, I know I will.

The world feels like your oyster when you wake up in the morning, and you don't have mucus blocking your ears, nose, sinus', and brain. Oh, sweet sweet clarity! Sweet sweet brain function and sense of smell! I've missed you...

Number Eight: My life.

Story: Each month, one of our fellow teachers plans a trip to an orphanage in Beijing. We take the train in, stay at the hostel right by the train station, indulge in the American franchise, 'Starbucks,' get our Western shopping needs met, eat at a Mexican restaurant with Chinese waitresses (kills me every time), and spend Saturday morning and afternoon at the orphanage playing and being with the children. It's an amazing break from our weekly schedules, and so fun to spend time with the kids, as well as seeing a HUGE city that has all things western in it, but all with a distinct Chinese addition or flavor.

This past month, we had to find an alternate mode of transportation due to the fact that the train station in Qinhuangdao is under repair. We had a few options, all of which would require more time and money spent. So, we opted for private cars- like renting a car, but also with a driver. The cost was almost the same as the fast train, and the time was projected to be about an hour longer- we could handle that. What no one told us was that we would have to avoid illegal car companies. That possibility is just not on an American radar…

As a team, we have become accustomed to the manner with which taxi drivers drive. With an American standard in mind, I would describe them as reckless, fearless, and out to prove something- a slower, type 'B' younger brother of the Latino 'machismo' that I’ve experienced in Honduras. But since being here, the assimilation is fully underway, and taxi rides don't faze me much anymore. A car ride to Beijing should be pretty similar, the team assumed. Nbd.

The ride to Beijing would be best described as “Fast and the Furious” meets Mario Cart at 250ccs. These two drivers were ridiculous, and the entire memory seems pretty unreal, if not surreal. Aside from being part of an illegal car company, which we discovered as they picked us up and put on their fake license plates, their cars must have had a ‘shrink’ button or something, because they were able to squeeze us into places that looked spatially impossible. With faster speeds than what any other vehicle was driving on the highway, we were able to fit between guard-rail and SUV, truck packed with cows and truck packed with goats, family sedan and over-loaded cart-like-truck that shouldn’t be allowed on a highway, and my favorite: moving semi-truck and moving semi-truck. And it wasn’t as if the drivers called each other, discussed the need to make that move, assessed the amount of space available, and then made their move after careful counsel and consideration, no no. We were convinced, after about 45 minutes into the drive, that they were racing each other, and that their moves, albeit highly skilled and decently impressive if it hadn’t been involving our lives, were completely arbitrary and done with only a guestimation of available space. That was the basic m.o. of the drivers all the way there. Even during the traffic jam.

A ride that should have taken us approximately three hours took six hours. We didn’t know what caused this large of a traffic jam, but it went on for miles! (…or kilometers!) We started to put it together that there was a very large accident when we saw mangled, burned trucks and truck contents all over the road and ditches. We were only witnessing the end of the clean-up, apparently, but even that was enough to burn into our memories. There were still crushed truck cabs and dead livestock along the side of the road that hadn’t been cleaned up yet. We saw sobering variations on this theme along the entire traffic jam stretch. To us, the coincidence was overwhelming, but once we cleared through the clutter, our drivers were unaffected and were racing again.

Due to a Power that is not human, we made it safely and soundly to our hostel. We debated on whether we should take the train back, and cancel our drivers. Our agreement with them was irrelevant, especially since they were an illegal company anyway… but we assumed that our ride home couldn’t possibly be as eventful, as there wouldn’t be as much traffic, and we wouldn’t be in such a hurry.

Wrong. (Round? No, Wrong.)

After our peaceful and fulfilling, yet short, time in Beijing, we met our drivers right on time to discover that the drivers were different. Confusion ensued, but I guess even illegal car companies have varying schedules and a somewhat organized way of doing things. (language barriers…) Whatever. We just wanted to get home safely.

And we thought we almost were. The trip was quiet with one bathroom stop- without soap, but by that time I would have gone in bush- and the drivers were more mature and level-headed, PTL. But as we approached Nandaihe to drop Justin off, the THICKEST fog I have EVER been in descended from the sky. It was AWFUL. Visibility was lower than any blizzard I have been in. Even without headlights on, you could barely see four feet in front of the car. I would have been afraid to walk in that, let alone travel in a car. We didn’t see the toll booth until we were under it (that we would chase through, because we were illegal). NOTHING. We couldn’t see anything.

This was more frightening than the drive to Beijing. Our driver wasn’t slowing down. We were still going about 45 km/hour, driving into a wall of white, as if he could actually see if there was another car on the road, or.. maybe a bicyclist, or pedestrian? MY WORD. I’ve never sharply inhaled so frequently in my life. This persisted for about 25 minutes until we dropped Justin off. The driver said we should be out of the fog, and that it was due to the warm ocean water and the cold fall air- very normal for this time of year.

…I don’t care. Just don’t drive like an idiot. I don’t want to age five years because you don’t like using your breaks at all.

He was wrong. We had thick thick thick fog all the way back to Dongda. The sharp inhales continued, annoying the driver enough for him to say to me in Chinese: This is my car, and I’m a good driver. I’m not afraid, so you shouldn’t be afraid. Just drink some liquor when you get home and go to sleep.

I bored holes into the back of his head for three minutes after that. …you shouldn’t be afraid… idiot. I was so angry.

After he said that, I reached a point of psychological and emotional resignation: I might just die tonight. And, if that is the case, then I know where I’m going, and I love my family, and it’s been a good run on earth.

We did arrive safely to Dongda, but every single one of us needed to process the trips there and back for awhile. Honestly, we all talked about what happened in a word-vomit get-it-all-out nervous laughter type of talk with the entire group the next morning. …yikes. Even typing this right now is making me shaky…

So, last but not least, I’m thankful (oh so very thankful) to still be walking on this earth.

FGA to FAQ

Post from October 31

From the students:

Yes I can use chopsticks. Thank you, I have been using them since elementary school. Because I thought it was really fun- it was like playing with my food, without actually [i]playing[/i] with my food.

Aw, thank you, but my Chinese isn't good at all, actually. I know the sounds well... like a one and a half year old. And I can say random words like... cute, and apple, and...chair... pineapple? and tower... I can get around just fine. You're sweet, though. :)

I came to China because I wanted a new experience. I also wanted to meet all of you, and to teach you. I think I have one of the best jobs in the world. YES. the BEST. ...well iiiiiiiiii think it's the best.

Six. I'm one of six kids. No, it's not normal for the United States- it's a lot there, too. I'm not Catholic... nope. It's... kind of like a party sometimes! But then it also means there are a lot of people to love and to care about and to think about. It is fun. But it is also a large responsibility. You all understand that, certainly.

I love the food here! It's fun, there is lots of variety, and it is very different from anything I regularly ate in the United States. Food is such a huge part of culture, i need to eat as much as possible to absorb as much of your culture as possible, right??? ...yeah, i know. all Americans are fat.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

From friends and family from home:

Yes, the food is great over here, but it's cooked with a TON of oil. Rice can be found at almost every meal. And I miss CHEESE. Oh. My. Goodness. do I EVER miss cheese. You can find it in the city, but it is never a regular part of any meal in this city unless you're at Pizza Hut. ...McDonalds doesn't use real cheese, don't give me that.

We have a couple KFC's, McDonalds, and one Pizza Hut. The Pizza Hut here in the city is like fine dining- definitely a mood switch.

I can do almost all my basic grocery shopping on the street. (pics to come, I promise) I can get seafood, all types of fruit and vegetables, nuts and dried meats and fruits, spices and herbs, tea, bread, grains, any type of fresh meat ranging from a quarter cow hanging in a street stall, to a live duck that they will butcher for you right there (watch where you step). I can find fabric of all kinds, get my bike fixed, buy jewelry, shoes, and crafts, and even copy my keys if need be. It's quite amazing.

I don't live downtown, but our school is the closest of the three at which ELT Edge exists to downtown. We are on the edge of the development district/the blue collar district. There are frequent blasts and construction noises, as well as numerous large trucks rumbling by that have THE LOUDEST horns I have ever heard in my life. I'm about a 30 minute walk from the beach, and a 20 minute run from downtown. The bus routes are easily available, and taxi rides are inexpensive. I do miss driving, though.

Being on the roads over here is always an adventure. J-walking is the norm, and honking isn't aggressive, but more of a "I'm here, pay attention," which was a concept that was pretty difficult to get used to. I gave a lot of glares the first few weeks that were completely unmerited. oops.

When it comes to the flow of traffic, it is literally that. a flow. or, an ebb and flow. lights are irrelevant about 60% of the time, and people will just slooowly creep out into the intersection solely based their desire to cross on their own time and not the light's time. And, depending on who is more in a hurry/more aggressive in the intersection, that vehicle gets to go first. Also, if it's clear, you go. Always. I think the lights and lines are just a formality, which is a good thing to keep in mind when you're crossing the street, for sure.

If you know anything about Taoism, you may be able to see this with me: i truly believe that the method of driving over here is the perfect manifestation of Taoist philosophy. Humility, compassion, and moderation: don't go too fast, because then if you want to ride the line, you might hit people. If someone is going to sideswipe you, just give a little tap to the horn, and glide to the right with them. If it's red, but you want to go, the other flow of traffic will swallow their pride and allow you through- for the betterment of the intersection as a whole, of course. You can learn many lessons on tolerance and patience and inexpressive aggression on the roads in Qinhuangdao.

But in all seriousness, I might need to retake drivers training when I get back.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Those are some of the main answers to the most FAQ that I've gotten so far. I hope they were informative. Any more questions, just email me, and I can answer them for you directly. :)

Basketball tournament update: The English Department is the champion in both men's and women's faculty basketball. (woop woooooop!) Final games final score for women: 22-8. ....neeeener neeeener...

It was tons of fun. Can't wait for the Volleyball tournament in the Spring~

I'm the tallest on the court.

Post from October 21

Dongda holds an annual basketball tournament in the Fall for the faculty and staff. Being staff and tall, it is assumed that we participate. There was an impressive amount of hype about this tournament, enough to intimidate me, and make me worry about letting the entire department down. ...bagh...

The teams are first divided by departments and then by gender. The tournament spans 3-4 weeks, depending on how well we do. No pressure, but the English department had a nine year winning streak that was broken last year. They don't want to win that badly.

We have a coach. Kind of. Heidi understands about 20 percent of what he says, and I understand almost nothing. When verbal language ends, body language begins. With violent hand motions, trial and error, and help from the Chinese English teachers, we deduced that we are to stand under the basket, wait for the ball, and just shoot, per our coach's instructions. Flattering, since my entire life I have been a point guard, if that. Coming from Dutch, tall West Michigan, my peers were always the desired posts while I waited for a chance to pass the ball to them. (oh please pick me!!)

I am also the one picked for the jump ball. As it ensues, I jump much higher than my 'almost as tall as me' counter part as I tip the ball towards our basket. I am not tooting my own horn, here. It is a simple fact that sports and athletics exist almost 100% more in the U.S. educational system than in China's. That makes me a basketball expert. And also, due to the fact that I run regularly and my hips come up to most of the other women's rib cages, I am one of the fastest ones on the court as well. These are sociologically and physiologically sound, as well as a depressing contrast when I know my basketball ability compared to some of my friends' basketball abilities back home. oiy.

These games have GOT to get on tape. It's amazing.

Passes are chucked backwards over one's head, towards one's basket, without any regard to an open team mate. Dribbling is up by the chin, or too low so that the one in possession has to chase after it. Guarding could be retitled as 'mauling,' and shooting... well... IF it happens, it might hit the rim.

I HAD SO MUCH FUN.

But I do have a few suggestions to those who manage and determine what motions the referees use to signal a violation in basketball.

Number 1. No scratching. This is proven by the red lines on the neck or arm. Referee makes a motion like a cat snarl or a swipe like Wolverine, and gives the ball to the victim's team.

Number 2. Four eyes down. This call is made when someone's glasses get hit off of their head. I caught pairs of glasses three time in the first game. I guess securing one's means to a visually fulfilling life is not emphasized unless one plays more than once a year. Maybe. Referee extends hands and closes eyes, with a lost and confused expression on his/her face, as if he/she were blind. The ball is given to the other team.

Number 3. No climbing. This offense merits vigilance on the referee's part, especially when taller, sturdier foreigners are given the ball. I am not a tree. I am not a tree house. My calves are not footholds, and you may not swing on my neck. Referee raises his/her arms in the air resembling a tree blowing in the wind. The climbee is granted a free throw.

We are in the midst of the tournament. Our first game was 10-4, us, and our second game was (get this) 6-2, us. (AWWWWW YEAH.)

It's so fun. I can't wait for the next game this Saturday, and I'll keep the blog posted on the results and antics of the Dongda, Female, English Department Basketball Team. (DFEDBBT)

RAT

Post from October 9

www.photoblog.com/somewhereinchina

You need to read this rat story. This blog above belongs to my friend and fellow teacher at Dongda, Brett. He and I had an encounter with a small rodent. I was there for only 15% of the story, albeit the most dramatic 15%.

Scroll down and you'll find the story with a title.

Enjoy!

Shenyang

Post from October 7

Populations of largest cities by the administrative area populations:

Shanghai- 18.9 million

Beijing-17.5 million

Guangzhou- 15 million

Shenzhen- 13.3 million

Tianjin- 11.9 million

Chongqing- 32.4 million <-- (!!!!)

Now, to pale in comparison, the six largest cities of the United States by populations:

New York City- 8.4 million

L.A. - 3.8 million

Chicago- 2.8 million

Houston- 2.3 million

Phoenix- 2.6 million

Philadelphia- 1.5 million

can i get a whooooaaaaaa.....

we are itsy bitsy.

Now my original intent of putting the city populations up on my blog was to preface my update with these comparisons to show that I visited a HUGE city for National Holiday. And since Shenyang, the city I visited, has a population of 5 million, I thought without a doubt that it would make it on the ‘top 5 list’ for population size- not at all. and even with a ‘grace’ sixth spot, giving that city one more chance to claim some fame in my momentous post, it didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell when considering the other cities on the list.

However, it is still larger than every other city in the U.S. except NYC, so... my mind is still blown.

The reason for the travel is that we have had a couple national holidays. China just celebrated Mid-Autumn Day Festival the week prior to National Holiday week. These holidays are not always back to back, as Mid-Autumn Day follows the lunar calendar. But this year it fell right before National Day, or October one, so for the Americans, it felt like Christmas and New Years in a temperate climate. kindof. but not really at all, because, well, it's China. (shrug)

I graciously received this vacation, welcoming it with open arms and a violent night of food poisoning.

Fuuuuuun.

First I had a somewhat dormant cold for about two weeks that finally decided to show its full rage on the last day of classes. After sleeping that off and almost beating it fully, I ate some bad lettuce, and BAM got slammed with Mao's revenge on a thin layer of Chinese virus. (Can I say that?) The formidable lettuce was just a small part of a Mexican meal we made for American food night. (Yeah, I know. Just keep reading.) It was good to be with other teachers, and the food was amazing, complete with our [i]American[/i] dessert: Apple crisp.

All who ate left full and content.

But my full got fuller, my contentedness got confused, and then my fuller got painful, the painful became writhing, and the confused figured out what was happening. ...you know the movie, Alien? I felt like something was going to split open my stomach and crawl out. It truly felt like there was something in there, I didn't know what, but it had a life of its own.

My Alien struck three times... little bastard. 2:30am, 4:45am, and 8:30am. But the chaos was over almost as quickly as it began, and it didn't kill me like the actual Alien, [i]fortunately.[/i]

In fact, I was still able to travel to Shenyang less than 8 hours after the ...events... took place. But compared to the internal and sometimes external violence I experienced the night before, a short train ride to Shenyang was no. big. deal. These trains are palatial when stacked against economy class in an airplane; the ride is smooth, you have a big seat that reclines to a decent degree, and an impressive amount of leg room. Thank you, China. You're forgiven.

Upon arrival, Heidi and I were met by a senior student at Dongda. Her family was so hospitable- they picked us up, treated us to Peking duck, (I just stared longingly at the glistening slices of duck and savory plum sauce as my stomach digested plain sesame crackers and Coca Cola) and gave us their queen sized bed to sleep on for those four nights. Heidi and I were so grateful- it was better than our own living arrangements! Our student friend took us around the city, showing us Shenyang's Imperial Palace, a Korean music and dance performance- this was the most aesthetically pleasing performance that I have ever seen in my life, and probably ever will see- and last but not least, the shopping.

Now 5 million people in one city requires a large amount of franchises and shopping centers. Apparently.

AWESOME!!!

Honestly, I'm not a big shopper in the states- I'm in, I'm out, and I'm done. But since being in China, European and American clothing stores, American restaurant chains, and even American made cars, are beacons of light that give me a shameless amount of comfort and warmth. Advertisements that made me eyes roll, I now admire nostalgically. Restaurants that I avoided like the plague at home, I now visit with a sense of deep longing fulfilled. oiy... I wonder how I'll react to the U.S. when I return. I might go crazy and indulge in every little thing I see and smell...hmmm... noted for future reference: temper cravings... America probably isn't going anywhere in the near future, and neither are Starbucks and Dairy Queen...

Reconciling my own internal ethical turmoil caused by the West pouring into Chinese culture will have to go on hold for now... long live the blizzard.

Chinese hospitality blows every other type of hospitality out of the water. They dote and spoil and take care of you better than your own grandmother would. I am constantly impressed with how my students treat me, and am trying to tailor my own sense of hospitality to theirs. Chinese hospitality could be taken right out of a book that I admire with my whole heart. Amazing.

This post has gotten lengthy, so I'll wrap it up. Our hostess and her family were amazing. Our Holiday was well spent in Shenyang resting, visiting, and getting to know our student friend even better. I am no longer sick, and my cravings for a frappuccino have temporarily subsided.

Life is good. :)

Spider

Post from September 25

I'm not normally afraid of spiders. Yeah, they have eight legs and move creepily around and movies have been made about arachnophobia, yadda yadda. But the spiders I have encountered and maimed/killed in Michigan have been, at most, a little squishy when squashed. After the deed is done, I shudder, make a gross noise, and move on with my life.

I was walking up my aforementioned apartment stairs the first week of being here, and paused quickly to catch a glimpse of Dongda's soccer field, only to have that smooth, green expanse be interrupted by three heee-uuuge silhouettes of spiders. I bet you each leg on these beasts were at LEAST an inch long-maybe more. And, when thinking about arachnid body ratios, the bodies were probably large enough to dissect without microscopes. I don't even think I can call those spiders. They are... rodents. yes, small rodents.

So once I got over my shock, I logged that moment away, so as not to forget that that size creature exists on our campus. Alright (head nod). Life goes on.

So we three teachers at Dongda run a weekly event called English Corner. It is a sort of club meant for any students that are interested in practicing their English with the American teachers. We have different activities, themes, games, and topics for discussion each week. English Corner is really great, for it allows us to be more relaxed and candid with our students- not just the English students, but other grades and majors as well. We hold English Corner on the fourth floor in the foreign teacher's office after dinner, so it is dark by the time our activities are over.

One night after English Corner it was raining pretty heavily, so we were jumping puddles on the dimly lit sidewalk, ignoring wet socks in our wet shoes as we were heading back to our apartments. I heard my phone ring as I was approaching a lake in the sidewalk, and proceeded to answer it while concurrently looking for another path that wouldn't give me clammy feet. The phone call was one of my students asking about some homework, and as I was answering her question I saw my opportunity for a higher path, right between two trees.

I take an energetic step up onto the curb, unabashedly taking another step in between the two trees, while still talking to my student. But within that second step, I felt this delicate but strong, bungee-like substance stretch as my face melded into the strands, as they folded around my head, almost to my ears- while never snapping or breaking. That spiderweb was so taught and strong that I felt as though it could have propelled me backwards if I had let my feet leave the ground.

I squealed. I squealed right through the phone into my student's ear, but for the moment I had forgotten that I was even on the phone, because the BEYOND urgent concern was that the spider logged away in my memory was somewhere on my person- or worse, on my face. oh sick sick sick... I don't think I've ever shaken my body like a long-haired golden retriever stepping out of the water before, but that's what I did. After a good ten seconds of that, I regained a little bit of composure.

I apologized to my student for potentially making her eardrums bleed, hung up, and then slowly snuck up to the pair of trees to find out where the enemy was. THERE IT WAS. Little stinker was just chillin right about where my forehead threatened it's death trap. I stared it down, but it seemed pretty unfazed by the panic and emotional chaos.

Recovery for that incident was a lot more than a shudder and a gross noise. It involved a happy movie and lots of ice cream consumption followed by a thorough inspection of every corner in my apartment.

People walk much quieter over here.

This blog was posted on September 16 as well.

My apartment complex is conveniently located right next to campus- so close that it takes me 7 minutes to walk to my classroom in the English building. So close, infact, that when the freshmen are doing their military drills eeeevery moooorning on the neighboring feild, yelling '1,2,3,4!!!' in Chinese, with barely a rhythm to the phrase, but enough of a beat for it to irritate my neurotic anticipation for a tick/tock of a clock while i'm sleeping, I can hear it.

Sigh... but the minute I turn the corner out of my street, and see all of the bright eyed freshmen in their military garb, and seeing them see me, stare, and maybe attempt a shy smile, my irritation dissipates. They are all so excited and eager to be at university, to learn the school song and to belong to something that widely upheld by society. Fascinating.

But for the sake of my blog title, I must clarify that the loud counting is during marching, not walking. Those are two, VERY DIFFERENT, gaits.

My apartment building is also made entirely of cement. When singing, I appreciate the reverb possibilities. I haven't asked my neighbor's how they feel, due to the still large rift in verbal communication, and I don't really want to know what they think.

When walking in heels, the click clack makes me feel quite professional, as well as brings me back to my elementary school years where Mrs. Ofpoff would stroll around the hallways in her pumps. Although, I don't really want to imagine myself as her, really, ... so this reference, I think, only pertains to the sound it makes, not the person I feel that I am- to clarify.

When raining, the air feels damp and full of musty moisture, a sensation and smell that gives me the urge to walk around barefoot wearing my bathing suit all day at a cottage on a lake.

When walking at night, however, it is dark. No really. I think, I think it's more than dark- it's negative dark. Like, if dark were neutral, or zero, then our stair well is a negative 6 or something. I truly think that light isn't just absent, every trace fragment is sucked out of the air, as if there were millions of tiny black holes all over the walls. It proabably takes an hour of daylight before the depressed air can regain neutrality and one can see their hand in front of their face again.

So imagine that level of darkness as you are making your way down some uneven stairs with your hands full- full of the leftovers from the food you just ate at the fun dinner you just had with your team mates that you are loving and loving to get to know. Now imagine trying to focus your pupils on something in that thick, despairing darkness- ANYTHING- to gain your orientation back, while concentrating on counting the stairs you can't see, and being unable to remember if there were six or seven stairs on this stretch. (You memorized them yesterday.)

You hear Heidi's breathing behind you, but that's it. You are carefully, tentatively, turning the corner.

Out of the corner of your eye emerges this round, pale, image, resembling a face, but with straight edges around it, like a distorted tiki-torch.

You inhale a sharp breath as you feel your heart stop and your eyes grow wide. In a flash, your imagination dumps EVERY single horror movie memory out in front of you from a secret bag it had stored in the recesses of your brain, and then sneers at you! Heidi behind you has no IDEA what happened, so she imitates your reaction with gumption and fervor, creating a panicky scene, almost complete with leftovers on the walls and floors and two Anglo-Saxon female bodies laying next to each other, in complete shock. (That last part doesn't happen though, starting at the food everywhere.)

As you both try to make sense of this image, frozen in fear, realizing your escape options don't exist, and trying to recall every defense move you learned in PE class, but you only come up with "I don't have my rape whistle on me!"... the image evolves to a head, with a neck, long hair, wrinkles on the forehead, all black clothes on, resignation in the face, and an unimpressed eyebrow raise directed at you and Heidi.

Seventy-year-old Chinese women should wear bells on their shoes.

First Point of Contact

Blog post from September 16.

This is an email that I sent August 30. It is hard to believe that it is now Sept 16... my WORD time moves fast, and my language skills aren't keeping up with it... bagh.

another update to come. But stories first!

~linds

This is pretty poorly organized, but I'm brainstorming right now, so I'm writing out of the right-side of my brain.

Life is plugging along. Classes start tomorrow, and I'm just finishing up brainstorming my complete syllabus for my classes. I will be teaching six classes, three of sophomores and three of freshmen. The Sophomore class is titled, "Critical Analysis Through Film." It was originally an audio-visual film class, but I'm tweaking it with the huge amounts of creative freedom and hands-off authority we're all experiencing. The school loves us and respects us, but we are also jewels on their crown, to a large degree. They care about the classes we teach, but value our nationality and language skills more... if that makes sense. We have so much opportunity to hang out with the students, build relationships, help their english (esp the Seniors studying for their NUMEROUS national exams...) and also enlist eager students (of which there are MANY) to tutor us in Chinese. I love QHD (Qinhuangdao, pronounced 'sheen-hoo-ung-dao). I love any new place that I need to figure out, so I'm having a blast. The students are great, too. I'm already falling in love with the personalities and vivacity I see in them. So fun. The language... bagh... I'm just starting to distinguish different words in conversations, instead of having it all seem to be a garble of soft, gentle syllables that seem to be more of a proverbial pillow for my cochlea than a language i could one day speak. Heidi just gave me some Chinese tutorials in paper and video, so I'm on my way to intelligible one to two word phrases. However, thank you, hello, good bye, I'm sorry, and the numbers can get you pretty dang far...

I am at my school, called Dongbe Dashwu (??), or Dongda for short, or Northeast University of QHD. Options.

Today (Sunday) was very good. Just plain good. I can't get over how much joy hanging out with our whole group gives me. The music is excellent, the discussions are respectful (so far) and it simply fills me up. OH and guess what. Ok, I'll tell you. My friend, jared, who is with ELIC, is Kara and Peter's wall-mate at one of our other schools. How uncanny. Seeing him was great; I heard him before I saw him- it is now a very strange thing to hear american english outside of our little group, so hearing him in the hallway perked my ears RIGHT away. :) Always good to see another Knight.

I am somewhat settled in. The floor is painted black (I'm no emo kid, so this isn't a good thing) and the person before me was quite the... mmm... slob? ...to put it nicely. So, it's been a lot of work cleaning it up and finding more furniture, but now I'm on to decorating!! Brett and I met downtown (solo taxi ride, thank you very much) and we found some paintings, a mirror, and other 'homey' stuff. I'm now taking a break from brainstorming for my class and checking my email very hesitantly, and am pretty anxious to hang those paintings on the wall during my next break.

Anyway, that's what is on my mind in this particular moment. ...mmm... i love QHD. I love any new place that I need to figure out, so I'm having a blast. The students are great, too. I'm already falling in love with the personalities and vivacity I see in them. So fun. The language, you ask? bagh... I'm just starting to distinguish different words in conversations, instead of having it all seem to be a garble of soft, gentle syllables that seem to be more of a proverbial pillow for my cochlea than a language i could one day speak. Heidi just gave me some Chinese tutorials in paper and video, so I'm on my way to intelligible.

Now that I've mentioned them both, I suppose I should 'introduce' them to you. Heidi and Brett are my fellow teachers at Dongda. Heidi is from Seattle, and is returning this year for her second year to the same school. She is so helpful and patient with my sloooooow Chinese learning curve. (there is just NO reference point with any language I am even remotely familliar with!) The closest thing I can think of is my music training and my pretty decent ear... but even then... yikes.

Brett is originally from Maine, and has been living in QHD for the last year and a half. His Chinese is about intermediate, which is impressive every time he picks up the phone or talks to a cab driver, and it also gives me hope that I can one day be at least that good... but whoa....

We three are getting along pretty well. We generally really like each other, but our strong attachment to each other is compounded by the fact that we are the ONLY Americans/white people on the campus, and three of fewer than 100 westerners in this decently large city... this is no Beijing, that's for sure.

Yikes, I'm tired. Jet lag is still a struggle. I'm not waking up at 3am anymore, which is good. 5am makes me feel less nocturnal, but I would prefer to have the circadian clock catch up asap. There is no charm in waking up at 5am. sorry, dad... :)

ok, back to preparing for class.

i am consolidating

My most recent online purchase (there aren't many) is a VPN, or a 'virtual private network.' This ...thing... (cue obvious technological ignorance HERE) allows me to jump the firewalls in China to access facebook, blogspot, youtube, or anything else that could potentially disrupt the harmony in China. (They don't know about me, yet.)

SO. I now have the ability to use my former, and preferred, blog from blogspot. My former blog posts on photoblog will be transplanted to 'my verbal doodles' and I will put a link in the photoblog blog for any wayward, confused blog users.

This is a simple update symbolizing a momentous occasion in lindsay's communication saga.

Are you as excited about it as I am? Because you should be.

That's all for now, but more to come soon :)