довольно маленький пляж

     Chinese characters on billboards?? Do those bother me? Hardly. Russian funkiness, however? Yes, that is a wee bit jarring. For some reason that I cannot explain, I am just not a fan of seeing Russian all over buildings and stuff. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I feel like China is mine, and I don't want any other foreigners having any influence over it, so I get all defensive when I see other languages all over the place, but I realize I need to learn to share. Sanya is basically just a little Russia, after all. Everywhere you go all your menus are in Russian, the buildings are in Russian, the beaches are covered in super burnt orange Russians, and all of the vendors try to speak to you in Russian instead of English.

      Actually, that last aspect of it is pretty fun. Charades has become a favorite game of mine these last six months, and it was quite the twist adding Russian to the mix - plus it finally gave me a chance to really rely on my Chinese. Normally, when you want to purchase something in China, the guy selling it to you either already knows enough English to sell it to you or there is something printed in English/Chinese that you can just point to. It just doesn't leave much to the imagination. However, in Sanya it was a happy little game when people, both Chinese and Russian alike, would rush up to you and just start jabbering away in their unfamiliar tongue with the assumption that you would understand them. The puzzled expression on their face was pretty priceless when after a few moments pause you reply to whatever they had said "English, I'm sorry, but I only speak English." From there on out, the Russians walk away to find someone more interesting to talk to, and the Chinese get this jumbo smile on their face and start jabbering away at you in Chinese instead. To my surprise, I found that I understand a lot more than I thought I did. This one vendor in particular and I talked for nearly a half an hour about who knows what - school, america, my life, how I liked China etc etc. Now, granted, there was a lot of charades involved, there was also an abnormally large amount of Chinese as well. I was all by myself and it was up to me to figure out how to say everything; it was a proud moment to realize that I actually could. 

   All things considered, Sanya really is a little piece of paradise. It was hot, but not nearly as bad as we expected, and the water is so much fun. We met more Chinese friends as usual, and we ate monster freaking mangoes everyday, which I am not ashamed to say was one of my greatest hi-lights.  My favorite thing about Sanya, however, was probably just seeing the insane crowd that swarmed the beach Monday afternoon and evening. Within an hour, the beach went from essentially empty, to covered with thousands of luck-seeking Chinese on their happy Dragon Boat Festival Day. Apparently, good fortune is brought to those who are in the water on the Dragon Boat Festival, and when tempted with good fortune you better believe the Chinese will come. Personally, I should be getting super rich or something this year because I was in the water all day. As always, I have a ton more to say, but I don't know how to say it, so instead adieu - I love you all.

Baba

It is nearly June, and with that comes so many sad thoughts that I'm not ready to cope with yet. It means packing, cleaning, saying goodbye, and crying; however along with all the sadness there is something wonderful that is happening as well - the wonderful day we call Father's Day. Not only do I have the best father in the world, but now I also have the best Chinese dad (Candice's dad from Yueyang) and, as of yesterday, I have the best Baba (which means father in Chinese) as well. His name is Tyson, and this blog entry in dedicated to him.

  We met Yun (whom we later named Tyson) in interesting circumstances, and we've had interestingly wonderful times ever since. Just as a brief introduction to this awesome guy, Yun is 29; he currently works for the government getting paid ucho mucho money doing who knows what, but he was formerly a boxer/military man. He has been to every province in China except the three that you need a seperate visa for - Taiwan, Mongolia, and Tibet, and he also once went to North Korea for a boxing tournament. Yun has a big shiny scar near his left elbow from when he chased his friend into a big glass window when they were16, and he also has a pretty ugly mole on his right shoulder that has 5 or 6 disgustingly long hairs growing out of it. Yun commonly wears a black fish net wife beater, which he pairs with his 1,750yuan man satchel that he brings everywhere, and he lives with his mother and dog Michael, who may be the most adorable creature this world has ever see. Additionally, Yun has a special talent for breaking things in half using only a piece of paper, and he habitually likes to show off his well beyond average Chinese upperbody strength. Up until the last month or so Yun spoke only enough English to say "Hello," and if it were ever necessary I believe he could save the world with his natural charades skills.

    From the time we met Yun a month ago to today, he has been an absolute gem. He is defintely the closest with my head teacher Dianna, but he is great friends with the rest of us as well, and he loves to show his affection for us. Despite our efforts to stop him, it seems he is constantly buying us ice cream, or popcorn, or bread, or dinner, or paying for us to go here or go there. In some ways that is where his title Baba originated, apparently, with his very limited understanding of English words, sugar daddy was something he had heard before, and in a twisted sort of way that was kind of what he is to us. However, the connotation behind all that seems a little wrong, so to explain it in better terms, Yun basically became our father because we already consider Dianna our mother, and since we all think they should fall in love and get married, the pieces just sort of fall into place.

    When all seven of us girls were driving with Tyson to Zhu Hai yesterday, we couldn't help but feel that we were going on a road trip with the family. Our parents were in the front seat, and the six kids were just jamming in the back with the windows rolled down and the ocean breeze flowing through the car. We all spent the whole day together, and it was so much fun. No matter what we were doing, it was a constant fit of laughs. I dont often take guys shopping with me because I think it is a cruel thing to do to a man, but in Tysons case there is a huge exception. There is nothing that is more fun than shopping with a big hilarious Chinese body guard. In the five or so hours we spent in the underground of Gong Bei, there was hardly a moment where I felt like Tyson was not thoroughly enjoying himself - whether he was picking out hideous things for us to try on, adamantly telling us not to buy from certain vendors because they were "deceived," or even just helping us bargain, we were having a great time. I mean, I guess what guy wouldn't right? Seven girls who are all just basically in love with you..why wouldn't you like that? Every great once in a while he would get really frusterated when he couldn't explain something he wanted to say so he would either "shhh" us or ramble off in a fit of super fast Chinese, but for the most part between our broken bits of language on both sides, the language translator on his phone, and a ton of hilarious gestures of charades, practically everything got communicated beautifully. He even decided to give me a new Chinese nickname because apparently my old Chinese name was no more easy to pronounce than my English name. It was cute because as we would walk around the stores, he would call out "Li Li" just to make sure I would respond to it. After shopping we went to the beach and went Zorbing, had a BBQ in Kaiyin, and then went to Peters Place to watch our friend Ben play in his band.

    When we got to Peters Place, however, something extremely out of the ordinary happened. We pulled into our parking place, and on the ground beside the car we noticed an older couple lying on the pavement. At first we thought nothing of it, but when we walked closer to go inside, we realized that the woman had blood all over her face from a large gash in her nose, and the man was barely moving. Zhongshan is an amazingly safe place to live, but curiously enough we have heard these past few weeks an uncommon amount of stories about foreigners getting severely beat up late at night. Our initial response was one of fear and shock that this could have been another one of those accounts, but after nearly an hour of trying to get some sort of response from the couple, we determined that they were beligerantly drunk and that it was probably just the result of an accident. As we called a cab for them, helped clean up the woman, and then got the man on his feet and into the car, Tyson was just the sweetest guy in the world. He ran to and from his car grabbing water, tissues, and any other supplies we needed. Although the situation was highly out of the ordinary for all of us, he seemed just as comfortable as we were even though he had no idea what was going on. We were barely able to get any more information from the Irish couple because of their state than he could, but I loved that he kept asking me geniunely worried questions about everything that was happening. Because of the help that we were able to give to this couple, we were so uniquely blessed with a small opportunity to share the gospel. As we were putting the man, Graham, into the taxi, he said to my head teacher "Thank you for not being judgemental." For a long list of reasons that I will not name, we had every "excuse" to judge the situation, and yet somehow, none of us had that inclination. After thanking us, he asked the simple question "Are you religious?" to which we naturally responded that we were. He further questioned "If you dont mind me asking, what religion are you?" and we replied that we were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to which he said "the Mormons... thank you, it really makes me think." In order for you to understand what that meant to us, it may be that you would have had to have been there and heard what we heard and seen what we had seen that night, but it was a moment that I will not soon forget. That man was unable to move or barely even speak for nearly the entire time we were with him, and yet still he was able to conjure up those questions, and recognize who we stood for. As Tyson watched and helped us, I think he may have noticed the effect that the whole situation had on us, and later that night he told us of his friend who went to America and found Christianity while in SanFransico. Though it is not acceptable to talk about religions in China, we were able to tell him later that night, as he described to us how sad he was going to be after we left, that at some later date when he was 100 years old, he would die, and we would all be happy and together again. He then began to tell us the very little that he knew of Christian religion. Though we could not address his many questions, it was wonderful to have the opportunity to be a light to these people so in need of light. Sometimes, even when we're in unothodox places we have the wonderful opportunity to be that beacon, and to show a Christlike hand to those who need it.

   Tyson gave us a wonderful weekend last weekend, and I love and will miss the guy a ton just as I love and will miss China a ton. It is a home as good as I have ever had.

 

In Memorium of a Fish

For those of you who know my family well, you know that, even from the very beginning, we have never had any place for pets in our home. I suppose we're just not the biggest animal lovers in a general way, and therefore no living thing not walking on two legs has entered our home with invitation in all the years I can remember.  We don't hate animals, nor do we necessarily dislike their company, we just aren't animal people. We aren't the type who cry at Homeward Bound, or feel a great deal of sympathy when watching the countless "Go on, get out of here..." master loves wild pet type movies. We just are people people who prefer to love people who have the capacity to talk back to us. However, all that being said, a few years ago this grinch's heart grew three sizes when, on my seventeenth birthday, I received a beautiful 15 cent goldfish from a co-worker of mine. For some reason, this fish, who I named Fergus Bartholemew Jr., entered my family with open arms. He was the most beautiful gold color, and I will stand by the fact that he was the most lively fish that ever swam the waters. Each time a person would enter the room, Barty get so excited and would swim around his blue-pebbled bowl as fast as he could - loop after loop. Simply the presence of a person in the kitchen got him more energized than words can express. As you would walk around the room, he would swim to the edge of the bowl nearest to you, following your every step. Barty could do tricks, he would nibble your fingers, he was always ready and excited to eat, and he was always able to handle anyone's pranks. I had one friend in particular who thought my love for Barty was so absurd that whenever she would come over she would hide him in horrible places - even like the microwave oven. Despite such shocks, Barty perserved long after anyone thought he would. I know that many, if not more likely most, of you find this all a bit over the top and riddiculous, but all I have to say is that this fish was perfect. He was everything you could ask for and more. My whole family loved the little guy, and he quickly came to have the best seven guardians that an animal could wish for. For every friend that ever met Barty, you understand his significance, and you know why I am so sad to say that after 3 1/2 years, this May 15th, Barty passed away. According to my mother, his light was just gone. His enthusiasm for life had been fading for a while, and it was just a matter of time. I'm glad I never saw him in any state other than perfect enthusiasm. When I heard Barty was getting sick, I made it perfectly clear to my family back home that nothing less than a good funeral complete with a casket and burrial would be acceptable. Thankfully, in accordance with my wishes, they had a beautiful little ceremony, and now Barty is buried with a little tombstone in my back yard. I write this entry, even though it has nothing to do with my adventures in China because I could not let this time pass without letting the world know of the wonder that was Barty. I miss the little guy.

 

With One Fish, you fish,

I dont need two fish

not black or blue fish

old or new fish.

 

You're the one who is my star

for you I'd buy a little car.

Say, what a splendid fish you are.

 

Yes, some are gold like you its true 

but never did they heal my blues.

Ne're were you bad, or even sad

since always you were very glad

Why were you ever glad glad glad?

I do not know, nor does my dad.

 

Once you were thin and then were fat

So big some called you "yellow cat"

From there to here and here to there 

My darling, you, stay in my prayer 

My Chinese Family

     I feel that with each new entry I am always saying how I've just had the most wonderful experience and it cannot possibly get any better. While in it's own right that has not been an exaggeration since everything here truly has been amazing, there can really be no comparison of the past to the weekend I just had in Yueyang. If I have had a better experience, not only in China, but in the entirety of my life, the memory has been forgotten or diluted. This weekend was simply perfect.

       In the three days I spent in that small village in Hunan, I did not see anything to match the beauty of Guilin, the modernity of Shanghai, nor the history of Beijing and yet in all my time here it is the most happy I have been. There is sort of peace that is indescribable in that small town. We went to Hunan to see a traditional Chinese wedding, but we were treated to so much more. I fell in love with China in Yueyang. Though I live and have spent most of my time in Zhongshan and I love the people I know here so much, as much as I hate to say it, I believe that the bonds and friendships that I formed in Yueyang overshadow everything else. I did not just meet Candice's family; I became family. To me Candice is now "wo de jie jie" and to her cousins I am "mei mei."

      Initially, I was nervous to live in her home - to be constantly surrounded by her family, but now that I know better I would not have it any other way.  Each morning at the Liu's, I woke up at nearly 6:00 to the hustled sounds of people going about their daily chores and preparations: the dogs barking, children playing in the road, and the rooster's call. In Yueyang, the mornings are cool and relatively dry; the wind pours through the open doors and windows of the house, and the breeze practically cancels out any humidity. It reminded me of mornings waking up at my grandma Pom Pom's house in Wyoming.  Throughout the day we spent most of our time playing with Candice's young cousins. At first there were just three girls, but soon, because we were the first foreigners to come to Yueyang, we had a small band of children following us everywhere we went. Though they don't  speak my language, I have never had so much fun with children and teenagers their age. Our piecemealed conversations of broken English and Chinese became a game in and of itself, but when you are trying so hard to understand one another, there is almost nothing that you cannot communicate. Generally, the three original girls would play with us while the surrounding boys would just watch on and giggle or conspire against us. We played very simple games like hot potato and hand slapping/clapping games. but we also just had fun exploring the village, walking through rice and tea fields, eating random food brought to us by the children, and rolling down hills. Though the day had very little in common with the sort of day taken from my own childhood, I felt like a kid again. Everything was simple, more fun, and more exciting.

     One of the more baffling things about Yueyang, is the unusual passage of time there. It is the sort of place where when you look at your watch even though it feels like it must already be late afternoon because of everything you have accomplished, you are suprised to find that it is still only nine or ten in the morning. It is as though each minute is given an extra 30 seconds. Despite the extra time and the overall slow pace of the day, however, it never creates a feeling of boredom. Even in the moments when you are just sitting and talking with one another, or  watching the people around you, you honestly never once wish you were doing anything else. Melanie, one of Candice's cousins, often came up to us, concerned that we were not being entertained, and would sweetly ask "are you boring?" At first the question threw us off guard not only because of the interesting usage, but also  because there could be nothing more untrue; we were not bored in any way. I felt more "boring" in Beijing or Shanghai than I ever felt there.

      When we weren't playing with the kids we were either play mah jong or basketball with Candice's other older cousins and it was so awesome as well. We got trashed in the basketball department, but it was a good time regardless. As far as the wedding is concerned, it was much different than I was expecting. It really wasn't anything like an American wedding other than the fact that the bride wore a white wedding dress for a short time. There was no ceremony where they actually "became" married because they are married as soon as they sign the legal papers, which they do the day or week before. The wedding is mostly just a celebration where you eat way way too much food, drink milk drinks and beer, get a nice big bag of milk candy, and have fireworks. They have a few additional traditional customs like the entrance of the bridal party in a fleet of decorated cars or sharing each other's tea for the first time, but other than that the wedding is pretty simple. My favorite part was probably walking up the street with the bride and groom while we were accompanied by the drums, trumpet, and symbols played by Liu Ming's friends. There was just so much energy and I loved being there to be a part of it. 

       On our last day there we were asked to go teach at the school up the road. We had mentioned our willingness to do so to one of the teachers earlier in the weekend, but since we had not heard anything from him since, we assumed that we wouldn't be taken up on our offer. However, Monday morning as we were preparing our bags to leave, a woman walked into the room and started to speak with us in our own language. We didn't know why she was there at first, but after the initial chit chat, she explained to us that that morning when she went to school, her students told her that English teachers were coming to teach them. She had heard nothing of the sort, but not wanting to dissapoint them she asked around and was informed that three American girls were living down the road. Apparently without much of a second thought, she left her class, and came down to get us. Candice was as suprised as we were, but we figured that we had enough time to go teach a short lesson, and still make it to the bus to go to Yueyang tower in time. I am so glad that we did. That classroom, filled with nearly 30 13-16 year olds, was some of the most fun I have had in China. We introduced ourselves, played telephone, took pictures, exchanged QQ numbers, and when it was time to leave a few of the boys came up to me and asked if we could play basketball. I really wanted to, but I also knew that we didn't have much time left, nor was I even sure if they would be permitted to leave class. They were persistant in their efforts, so I finally asked Candice and their teacher Elaine if were allowed, and a little reluctantly they agreed. As I walked back to the group of boys, it was obvious that word had spread, and the entire class was waiting in anticipation for my answer. When I called out that we were allowed to play, it was like something straight out of a movie. The entire classroom cheered, jumped and then ran down the stairs to the court talking and yelling in anxious excitement the whole way. Initially, we just shot a few hoops, and the boys tried to show off, but then we had them split into teams, and we were actually able to play a short game. I was slaughtered by the boys - they were extremely talented, so I suppose it was good that we had to end early. Though the kids were devastated to have us leave, it was so much fun, and I left that court with the largest of smiles on my face. It is hard to describe what this weekend meant for me. Its brilliance was in the details. It was in the smells and the feelings - the smiles more than the activites. It just made me forget the world,  forget my troubles and remember to love. Such loving makes you live fully in every moment - nothing wasted, nothing lost.

I Just Got Schooled

I love days like today. They are the days that I get to remember just how different China life is from the life I led back in the States. The day started off pretty normal, and therefore pretty well. I was picked up by Aaron, and driven to school with two other girls who help him practice his English; we talked about "images" and first impressions which ended up being a pretty interesting conversation. Then, once at school, things were pretty standard as well: we had corn, some noodles, and a little bread for breakfast. Classes were after that, and my Bernstein Bears drama lesson went even better than planned, which is always nice. Then after doing store with the big kids of ILP C, it was time for lunch. Michael that wonderful man made us his fantastic spaghetti which I admit was a happy surprise. I ate way more than my fair share, and by the time I was done my stomach was in the happy state of fullness - a rare feat in this country ;) I skipped cooking class to work on my lesson plans, and then I got the invite to go play pool and eat cake with our friend Sean. I admit, I was border line on whether or not I wanted to go, but I am so much more than glad that I did. Not only was pool really fun, and the cake really delicious, but afterwards Sean invited us to go see his old high school and middle school which was right across the street.

          It was kind of funny because once we accepted his invitation to go, Sean began to worry that we would not actually be allowed to enter. He explained to us that he had often tried to go back to visit but had been denied access by the guards. Perhaps it was overly pompous of us, but we were confident that we would have no trouble getting in. My head teacher, Dianna, simply turned to him and reassured him that we were white and American. Guard or no guard, there is practically no place other than a government building that we will be kept from entering. The injustice of the thought makes me sick, but sadly it is true. Sean offered to try to talk to the guards by the entrance and explain our purpose to see if maybe they'd be lenient, but we told him that we'd just try our luck at our way first and if they tried to stop us then he could try the explanatory way. Just walk with confidence - walk with purpose and no one will question you. As predicted, the guard didn't even give us a second glance. Sean was practically hiding behind us trying to look inconspicuous, but the rest of us just kindly offered a "Ni Hao" to the guard and walked on in. It was pretty funny I guess.

        Once we were inside I became keenly aware that I don't really know what it means to be a teacher in China. See, I work in a private kindergarten where the tuition is nearly 10,000 dollars a semester and the atmosphere is like raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Granted we are a school for children 2-6 and not teenagers, the scholarly level of this high school blew my mind! As Sean described his last six years of his secondary education I could not help but compare it to my drastically different experience with West Chester, Ohio's Lakota Local School District. I mean, I never felt too challenged in High School, but I assumed that that was really just the universal experience. On the contrary. As I walked the huge Zhongshan Public School campus I marveled at the stories related to me. Not only do the kids study at the school from 8am to 10pm, but they also live there regardless of how close they are to home. Sean, for instance, lives less than three blocks from the school, and yet for nearly six years other than the two month summer breaks he only spent Saturday nights at home with his own parents. The Chinese go so far to keep their students from distraction. That is the main reason they are confined to the school. Additionally,  no distractions means only uniforms, no long hair for girls, only short hair for boys, one two hour break for dinner and free time, and no dating type relationships of any sort. Boys and girls aren't even allowed to walk together on campus, and you never see it.  According to Sean there is a lot of rebellion, but it is very secret rebellion because the teachers have no tolerance for it. The kids are extremely good at keeping up pretences. 

The long hair rule for girls was semi recently abandoned because of the mess that was made with it. A girl who had long hair was taken to a barber and given a boy's hair cut as punishment - she went to the media, and supposedly the news and reporters made a large enough deal of it that the policy was changed, but it is just insane to think about. As I walked by their dormitories with all their laundry hanging from the windows all I kept thinking was about the many kids I knew in high school who had never even done their own laundry. All of the cleaning on the campus is also done by the students, and you frequently see them mopping floors and wiping down handrails. The classrooms themselves were, however, by far the most crazy thing for me to see. The students don't move from class to class, but rather, the teachers move to them subject by subject. Thus, these kids desks are littered with book after book and stack upon stack of papers. Many students even keep one of those large Tupperware type containers next to their desks to hold the rest of their readings. As we walked by the classrooms, most of them were empty because it was dinner time, but in each room there were still about five or six students dutifully scribbling away at their work. When I questioned Sean as to how they could study so late into the hours he said it is because the teachers literally monitor them as they complete their homework making sure they do it and in a timely fashion -every night until 10pm. I cannot imagine. The school blew my mind. Rather than filling me with a sort of sorrow however it filled me with such excitement. I think it is the most giddy I have felt since the first day I landed in Hong Kong. I was just a big bucket of smiles and I'm not sure why perhaps I can only describe it as sort of exhilarating to see and be a minor part of that surreal dedication to education. It made me wish for a small moment I had been part of such a system. In so many more ways I am glad that I am not, but I love their dedication to learn. They all have such a motivation to excel and accomplish so much. It is unfortunate that so many do it for the wrong reasons perhaps, but all the same I am amazed by this place. I amazed by the reality of the severity and discipline on which it runs. Not to mention I just loved seeing these students faces during free time; I loved watching them look up from their books and have a broad smile spread across their countenance as they saw my own white little face staring back at them. China really is a wonderful place. I cannot put into words what it feels like to be here, and that sad truth makes it impossibly hard to leave here because I know that as my memory of it fades it will only be these inadequate words on which I will have to turn.

American Noodles

 Last week was one of my most fun weeks in China. The girls and I decided that we needed to get a little closer with our Chinese friends, so we invited them all for dinner. On Saturday we pulled it off Chinese stlye with Candice, Sparky, Chlorris, Fanny and Jesse. The apartment was burning hot with twelve people running around trying to cook and prepare for the meal, but other than that everything went soo well. We ate classic foods like cucumbers, tomatos and eggs, dried raddish, hot peppers, broccoli, rice, spicy green beans, and cabbage. All were fried in a ton of oil, and it tasted delicious as usual. We also had some salad and ranch dressing to appease the American tastes, and I attempted to make some noodles. For the past month or so I've been working on the development of an extremely good noodle recipe that I can take home to make for friends and family as a good Chinese meal; I recently perfected it, but when I went to make it for the group all I got in response was Sparky telling me over and over again that I was doing it wrong. It was pretty funny. His attention to what I was doing brought our other friends into the kitchen, and it was determined that I was making "American noodles" for everyone because obviously they weren't Chinese. Luckily, once they tried them they loved the taste and ate a ton of it, but it was evidently not authentic Chinese nor does it have anything to do with American style anything, so I guess I just discovered a great "Courtn-ian dish."
     It was so fun just sitting around our tiny table all sharing the same dishes. See, in China the way you eat your meals (even at restraunts) is not to dish up a plate full at a time. You basically just grab what you want with the chopsticks you are using, and put it in your bowl throughout the meal. You almost never have much on a plate unless it's rice. In part this is because the food generally comes out continually until you are done with the meal, but either way I dont think my dad would handle China well for this reason (I can just picture him smacking my hands or fork when I take something straight out of the bowl and put into my mouth). Grabbing food willy nilly with my chopsticks, however, is a cultural etiquette pratically designed for me.
   Saturday went so well that Jackie, Kalie, and I decided to try it again with our good friend, and Kung Fu instructor, Spring. He requested an American meal, which made the preparation and cost extremely different than the first meal, but suprisingly enough it ended up going off as good or better than the first. We certainly had a lot more bumps in the process. At one point (30 min before he was supposed to arrive) we found out that we had no way of procurring the main ingredients for our dinner nor desert, but due to some brilliant improvisation we were able to come up with a phenominal final product. If I were going to live in China permanently, I think that I would open a restraunt and serve our dinner permanently. We had fruit salad with yougurt; taco salad complete with picco de giao, lettuce, ranch dressing, fry bread, and the best beef you've ever had; my own homemade french fries; and chocolate peanut butter no bakes to top it off. It was sooo good, and we had leftovers for two days, which was actually kind of strange because you never have leftovers with Chinese food. There are always a TON of dishes, but they are a lot smaller so you finish them off. Loading as much as you can onto one plate was sort of a forgotten concept for us, but I guess it's like riding a bike and we got back into the swing of things easily. That night was definitely the most full I've felt in a long time - especially in China.
   Wednesday we were supposed to do dinner again for some friends of ours in the band at Peter's Place, but they ended up backing out last minute because of work. We'd planned with Ben (our American neighbor and drummer in the band) to make Chicken Parmasean, and it would've been AMAZING but I guess we'll just have to wait for another week!
   I cannot believe it's almost May - the time is flying by and I wish I had a remote to make it all go slower. Hopefully, when I get home I will have no regrets with how I spent my time; got to live it up! Love you all!

Beijing in Red

    From the beginning of my stay in China up until some point late last week, I have never truly felt as though I were in a communist country (at least, not the stereotypical one that we generally view in opposition to American politics). See, Zhongshan is a little piece of southern paradise. The people are sweet and charitable; the weather is warm, humid and full of sunshine, and the overall greenery, complete with palm trees and Charley plants, hardly comes together as the working portrayal of an autocratic governance. Instead, it mostly just feels like a vacation - a home away from home. Between my travels to Hong Kong, Guilin, and Shanghai those feelings have generally remained constant; however, Beijing turned my Chinese world on edge. Perhaps I am not fair in my judgement, after all, Beijing certainly has a lot to offer; the Great Wall, Imperial Palaces, and Terracotta Warriors match or exceed the aw with which I have seen anything up to this point, and yet I find, now that I am back home, I have no considerable desire to ever visit them again. I am sure that I could see Guilin, Shanghai, or Machu Picchu one thousand times and still not tire of their splendor, but Beijing is a different kind of marvel.

    Even on my very first night in the city, I could feel something different. I'll allow that a large part of that difference stemmed from the fact that it was nearly 1 in the morning, I was lost, it was dark, raining and cold, but aside from that, there was an added eeriness by the desertion of the streets. Beijing is the largest city in China, and yet on our hour walk to the hostel, we saw not a single soul aside from the few uniformed guards marching along Tian'an men Square. I am sure we were quite the sight to see - seven young girls in the dead of night lugging suitcases behind them, and we felt the awkwardness as we walked block after block. Though most of the walk I was focused on my ever numbing face and hands, I do not think I will easily forget that first sight of that yellow star of China's red flag as we passed that empty square where so much history has taken place. It was more numbing than drizzling rain, and I could feel my heartbeat slow. There was no real reason to be scared; it was mostly just the recognition that the movie depiction of communism, for that moment, did not seem too far off. The cold, empty streets felt oppressive. Mao's domineering portrait did nothing to aid the situation, and for the first time, I really could not believe that my feet were standing where they were standing. I had heard stories of this place. Stories that were nothing more than pages of texts and famous pictures. This place was real. The people that supported this man were real; his leadership, cruelty, and deceit were more real than anything imaginable.   

     Five days after my first steps in Beijing, I was again standing at Tian'an Men square, except this time it was a beautifully clear day, and I was beside more than 5,000 of the other daily viewers who comes to pay respect and bring flowers to the preserved body of their national hero, Mao. Beijing is littered with tourists wherever you go, but when it comes to Mao, most set their sights elsewhere; I was one of approximately ten other Westerners that day who was interested enough to wake up early, stand in line, and view his remains. The 5,000 visitors between 8am and 12pm are almost entirely made up of elderly Chinese men and women who were alive during Mao's reign and revolution, and their devotion to him is uncanny. It amazed my apparently naive American psyche how much democracy is not necessarily wanted throughout the world. I talked with one shop owner for nearly an hour as he explained the image on one the shirts he was selling; it depicted our President's face outfitted in a Chinese military uniform. Initially, I assumed the shirt was meant to stand as an insult as it might in the States. I have often heard people politically belittled by being called a "Commi" and my first thought was that that was what was trying to be portrayed. However, as I continued to talk with this man, it quickly became evident that the opposite was true. He explained that the shirt was mostly sold to Chinese people, and that it was seen as a symbol of hope. It depicted the desire (shared by many Chinese) for Obama to bring Communism to America so that there "can be peace in the world." His words rustled my democratic paradigm to say the least. I knew that not everyone wanted democracy in their own country, but I really never considered that people honestly sought to bring it down and replace it in my own. I rephrase, I know that there are many people in this world with malicious intentions. There are people who seek personal power through the oppression and submission of other's agency; however, it is unduly naive to assume that all communists are this way. Many, if not most, of them are genuinely good hearted and charitable people who seek to bring Communism to America much like we seek to bring Democracy to them. 

   Perhaps from this entry you may see Beijing in a darker light, but I admit that is not my intention. Beijing was eye opening for me. It was the first time I really felt the culture shock I had come to expect, and it has deepened my understanding of God's children. I will always love and appreciate Beijing for this. It is a culturally rich epicenter. It is just a shame that its history has come at such a high price. Its glory has been built through the reign of two particularly ruthless men, and though I marvel at the works created by those hands under their direction, I cringe to know the price that they were so willingly to pay when it was never theirs to offer.