China oops. My foibles and follies causing damage to be seen decades from now.

Yes I'm back and I'm alive. A few emails showed me more shock from my loved ones than I ever thought I was giving them reason to have- ma baaaad. I have been traveling around Northeast China, covering ground there and checking off lists. I will tell tales of one trip in particular, the trip to Haerbin, in the next post. THIS post was inspired by my return from said travels, when I happened upon everyday items in my apartment that, with time away giving me better clarity of thought and an even better sense of humor, are perfect indicators of my 'foibles and follies'.

I love Korean food. It is fresh, spicy, and includes lots of vegetables- at least in my limited experience. Korean Culture is pretty prominent around our city and the other cities in the Northeast, due to proximity and people fleeing... So my affinity for those flavors has increased.

We went grocery shopping one day, and I came across a red tub with Korean on it, and other visual indicators that this is kimchi, therefore I should buy it and enjoy it at home. It was heavy, felt like kimchi ( like I really know what kimchi feels like), and was red, just like kimchi...

It was kimchi sauce. straight up, the spicy stuff that seasons the kimchi. With that much sauce, I could make like, 10 pounds of pickled cabbage... maybe... really not that big of a deal, but it displays my irrational cravings. And if you know me really well, you can imagine the immensity of my disappointment when I opened the box to find only a thick liquid. wuh wuh....

A sign of beauty in China is pale skin. Each major cosmetic and bathroom product brand has catered their products to appeal to this Chinese standard of female (and at times, male) standard of beauty. Overall, it is counterintuitive based on my ingrained standard of western beauty being tanned and rosy. And at times, the paleness is creepy.

Sometimes the girls here overdue it- just like a girl may wear too dark of foundation in the states, a Chinese girl may wear too much lightening powder or whitening lotion on their face, almost to the point of looking like a porcelain doll, or like a geisha, or worse, near dead. It causes me to stare, and at the very least, do a double take.

So one would assume that with this knowledge in mind and a need for body wash pending, that I would have my radar on for something that would make me feel ugly according to Western standards.

I'm looking through the options at a small shop across the street from my school, and find 'Nivea', a brand I'm familiar with in America. I smell one, like it enough, and buy it in a hurry.

When I'm ready to use it, out of curiosity I read the small section of English on the back:

"New NIVEA White Jade Shower Gel makes your skin moisture balanced and radiant white as white jade."

Whaaa... mygoodness. So, uuuhhh... how 'white' is white Jade? And, um, does this mean I'll be white from neck all the way down? What chemicals makes this possible, if it actually indeed HAS this ability? (Crossing my fingers it doesn't. 12 kuai is a large enough price to force me to use this body wash until it's done.)

I'm halfway through the bottle, and so far, I don't notice a change- however, my Summer tan is fading at the same time I'm using it, so I really cannot tell. Really, by the time I return, I just may end up looking like that western girl wearing too much and too dark of foundation.

The food here is cooked with a lot of oil and a lot of MSG. No matter what you do to the food, as long as you include those two things, it will taste good. Never mind the long term effects.

I like food. At the very beginning we were brought out to eat almost everyday in celebration or with students treating us. Indulging was easy, or at least, ignored, due to the heavy amount of culture shock I was processing. The effects of this pattern of eating showed itself when I couldn't button my jeans after washing them. Not having a scale or a mirror that showed lower than my belly-button proved to contribute to this depressing surprise. This could have been something that I anticipated, but shoot. I LOVE EATING. sigh... So, I worked hard, returned to my older, healthier, eating habits, and viola, back to my old weight. But that was another perfect example of how I enjoy life, and that later, how that blinding love could be my downfall.

*no pictures included to indicate the appearance changes in my physique.*

And lastly in this post, is the story of how I probably lost a sizable chunk of my brain and olfactory capabilities.

My floors are all concrete. One of the teachers a couple years prior felt the urge and followed through with that urge to rip up all the tile in the second floor apartment, where I currently am.

I was an art major. Aesthetics are important to me, and I feel, to a degree, the looks of my apartment reflect who I am as a person. SOoooo I was instantly searching for a solution to this crime against my degree and my instincts.

I asked some students of mine if they knew of a store in town that sold paint that was safe for my floors, durable for furniture to potentially slide around on, and was non-toxic, emphasis on the NON.

I soon got an address, and asked again about the toxicity of the paint, and they said that what this store sold should be safe. AWESOME. Let's go get it.

At the time I was thinking really creatively, and wanted red in my living room, a dark blue in my front room, and a fun combo in my bedroom- if he can rip up my tile, I can paint his floors, right?

The night I was going to begin, I get dressed, move things around, and waited for Brett and Heidi, who volunteered to help. Typical for me, I got impatient and decided to open the first can to begin the project. As I peeled the cover back, a thick, noxious fume floated up and invaded my nostrils. It was awful.

I started to paint.

About five minutes into my headache, I opened the window and door to get a draft going. Brett came up soon after that, and was shocked by simply stepping out of his apartment; it was as though he walked into a wall of fumes. Heidi could smell it through her window up on the third floor.

This smell was invading the entire building!

I told them when they arrived that I didn't think it was that bad- it smelled awful, sure, but whatever- my floors were getting painted :) It wasn't until I was getting dizzy, and that Brett and Heidi's heads began aching, that we stopped. Only 60% of the floor was painted by that point, so I was antsy to continue, but too dizzy to do so.

I went for a short walk to breathe some new air, which helped the headache, but accentuated the contrast between fresh air and poison. When I returned, I tried my hardest to seal the door to my living room with towels and sheets, and when I shut my bedroom door, I stuffed those cracks too. Even in my bedroom, the side of my bed near the window had fresh air, and when I rolled over to the other side that's closer to the door, I could smell the gas.

In the end, I only finished my living room. The smells were so noxious and presumably toxic that my fellow team members urged me to quit after that room. I put up a pitiful fight, and lost. I had hated the smell so much that I abandoned every painting rule I had ever learned: taping the base boards, putting two coats down, straight lines, not touching it/walking on it, etc. I just wanted to get that done.

Now when I go for runs in my city, and I pass construction sites or a blue-collar district, I smell that paint, and want to voooooomit. But, at least a third of my vision came true... even though the dust is so intense here, it's now more of a brown with a hint of rust...

Travel Trials and Related, Relevant Tidbits

Hello, and Happy New Year! Happy Spring Festival! Happy February 2!

The Chinese New Year follows the lunar calendar, placing this year's Spring Festival today and tomorrow. It's a fascinating experience; the magnitude of this holiday is comparable to our Christmas and New Years holiday festivities. Traffic is awful, malls are packed, restaurants are full, students are home, and everyone has off of work. Now, take that magnitude, subtract the green from the holiday colors, replace it with much more red, add lanterns and violent, eardrum shattering fireworks starting at 8am, substitute dumplings for sugar cookies or whatever holiday food tradition you have, and you have the Chinese New Year. (Over simplification, but that has been my experience thus far.)

I did not take this picture, but this is a perfect representation of what some of the main shopping streets look like in Beijing and in Qinhuangdao. When night falls, these lanterns are lit along with rows and rows of trees and bushes with their own decorative, ethereal version of lights and glowing. I have never seen so many lights and red... things... all together, for one purpose, in my life! It's pretty awesome.

Due to this being the biggest family celebration for a developing country that has 1.3 billion people, travel is chaotic at best, cutthroat and unpredictable for train tickets, and frustratingly pricey because of the high demand for said tickets, for lodging, and sometimes food. With most of the country relying on train travel to get from point A to point B, and with over 500 million migrant workers vying for these tickets because this is their only chance during the entire year to see their family and children, vacationing is a bit... precarious... aiiiiaaaa... and laced with guilt, especially if my buying of a ticket prevents a worker from getting home sooner- or at all.

So... we looked at plane tickets. We asked for advice. We called travel agents. We appealed to our Chinese friends to guide us. We finally put something down on paper: Harbin, by hard sleeper train, overnight travel, stay for 4 days to see the famous ice sculpture and light show, and take a train back. Us leaving after the New Year Holiday (on the fourth) gives us much more possibility. :) (and me much less guilt.)

In two days, Becca, Brett, and I will head out to one of the coldest locations I have ever been to, followed by a short trip to Tianjin, a city close by famous for Beijing Opera, it's seafood, and its form of comedy acts and stand up comedians (not that I'd understand it at all). I will write and reflect on that when the trip is over. But OH my GOODNESS what an arduous journey to our final plans. yikes...

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.

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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.

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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!