Saturday, January 31, 2009

Back to work

I broke today.

I snapped just about all the way in two, and knowing the optimist within me, and how likely it is to resurge in just a few days, I might as well document it. It may also help as a catharsis of sorts, its just been that sort of day.

It is almost certainly one of those sadnesses that is illegitimate. I heard Jason and Jack telling me that I could have lost a leg or be living in a refugee camp, and tried those phrases from time to time for whatever moral support they can offer. I suppose if I am going to be calm about this whole thing, all that happened is that I became afraid that mastering the language will be too hard.

I finally decided to quit with the placid acceptance of staying in this house, and to get out and explore more of Beijing than just a shopping mall and a carnival. I asked my host mother what performances I might be able to see, and she glanced up and said she had no idea before returning to a mixture of her cell phone and TV. I don’t want to blame my host family for too much, blaming a scapegoat is too easy, but it certainly didn’t help. Mostly undeterred by her lack of help, I went to figure it out myself on the internet, which absolutely refused to work. I’m more computer literate and “troubleshoot savvy” than at least 80% of computer users, and almost without exception when I go for computer help, the people run their usual tests (which I’ve already run the gamut of) and then look at me and go “Huh … you really have a problem here”.

Denied of both local advice, and any access to information about the city via the internet or phone, I started my descent into being overwhelmed. I really really wanted to talk with my brother and my girlfriend, and knew that they both wanted to talk to me, and don’t even know if I will be able to tell them what happened.

I decided to “be a man” about it and just dedicate myself to hitting the books again.

Maybe … Maybe its just an attitude thing, but I think I’m really far away. I struggle with language, it is not in the category of things that come easily to me. I have been focusing these past two weeks on words that I think have the highest frequency of usage, and I thought my plan was brilliant. Now, I believe it is the unfortunate truth, that every word is important. Who the heck writes books with only the most common 60% of words? And if you can’t understand 20% of a paragraph, then you’re really just kidding yourself about speaking the language. I’m not even there yet … I think that is “my goal” … but that’s not really my goal. My goal is to be fluent in Chinese, and heck – that was only the first step. The whole point of being fluent was to work on trying to help alleviate the massive rural poverty in China.

Maybe I’m 20 years old, and maybe I’ve only been in China for two weeks now, but mastering the language seems light years away. Being able to confidently have casual conversations (even with mistakes) seems out of reach. My 300 note cards of new words that I’ve learned in 10 days are impressive only out of context. Like, who the hell cares. No one is going to benefit from my ability to correctly write and the phrase “to pick berries”. I’m being hard on my self. I’m lonely, and bothered that I haven’t had a perfect experience here in Beijing. I haven’t seen much of the city, and haven’t bonded fantastically with the family. I’ve learned that my language goals are much harder to achieve than they seemed in my former dream world, and now in addition to having no friends as a physical presence, I’m excommunicated from even hearing the voices of everyone I love.

I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine in more than one way. I’ll have an incredible life no matter how well I master this language, and I am likely to really enjoy and benefit from this semester despite its difficulty today or any other number of days.

I mend easily, and leave almost no hint of a scar. Usually when I break, I learn a few lessons and get back on my bike. Pardon the emotional outburst if you will, sometimes feelings just happen. For whatever its worth, this is how I felt today. And now … I’m back off to work.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Sea Monsters and the Ministry of Defense

Conceptualizing the difficulty of learning another language is (in my personal opinion) nearly impossible – for those without first hand experience.

For most of my friends and family it is extremely difficult. Some of my friends speak Spanish or some other “Romance Language” and claim it is do-able … for this group I will use the excuse that “Chinese is harder” and for those of you who have attempted Ancient Greek, I’m sure I have your sympathies.

I’d like to borrow some of the language of renowned author David Sedaris whose mastery of English allows him to artfully describe the inherent difficulty in mastering just about any other native tongue. I’ve borrowed a number of his words and pulled some bits from his descriptions while adapted it and interspersing my own feelings and thoughts to make what I hope will be an entertaining and useful attempt at explaining what this whole language “immersion” thing is really all about.

Chapter 1: Arrival

I went to China having just studied the word for “bottleneck” and repeating it over in over in my head as a sort of security blanket. I use it to demonstrate my proficiency everywhere I go. I say “bottleneck” at the airport, “bottleneck” on the train to Hangzhou, and “bottleneck” when told that the massive unmarked building lying before me is to be my home.

“Oh … bottleneck” everyone says – you speak well.

As time goes on I pick up a few new words, but overall the situation seems hopeless. The best I can manage is a series of simple nouns.
“Ashtray!” I’d say
“Yes” they’d agree. “That’s an ashtray alright”
“Hammer?” “Screwdriver?”
“No, that’s okay we’ve got our own”

Chapter 2: Dedication

Eventually I could say the simplest of phrases entirely wrong.
“See you again yesterday!” I’d say to the storekeeper. “Ashtray! Bottleneck!”
I committed myself to the textbook promising to learn 10 new words per day
Hawthorne berry
Facial swelling
Magpie (a kind of pretty pigeon)
Death penalty
Persimmon
I found words, wrote characters, memorized translations and kept notecards for review. My list gradually expanded as did my pride in my new language abilities
Slaughterhouse
Sea Monster
Confucius
Ministry of Defense

At the end of a month I had managed to memorize some 400 nouns – not a single one of which proved the slightest bit useful.

Another month and another half a thousand words…
Padded vest
Tumble
Suffer with patience.

For the most part – people knew to shake their heads at the last one, and questioned my sanity if I said any of the others.

Classes began to add the beginnings of structure, and I went from speaking nonsensical nouns to being a severally dysfunctional hillbilly

“I want me some lamb chops with handles on ‘em”…

I managed to get foods close enough to what I wanted that they were edible, and my existence continued.

Chapter 3: “Fluency”

Its been a number of semesters, and this is my second trip to China. I can talk wonderfully with other students who aren’t aware of my mistakes and with teachers who humor them. When “real Chinese people” talk to me on the street I do my best to understand their meaning without truly being able to grasp many of their important words.

“If you have not zhishichiwichqiguai or erishjuchamener then you need to apzkiubjxow. Have you zhishichiwichqiguai? You sure? OK … good.

“Where are you from? O really? Were you palicmkrexis? Most fiusczsa will ticiwelmun kfdtinvfm” Yes? Yes or no? Yes? O … interesting.


Chapter 4: Today (in entirely my own words)

I tried understanding what it would be like for me if I didn’t know English. I picked up a random book turned to a random page and looked at a random paragraph. I realized that it isn’t just fear that keeps me from fluency – it really is a different world. The thought process is radically different the grammar is everything you can’t possibly think to do because you have been trained that it is “wrong”. The words sound almost exactly the same and the characters are actually the same and equally impossible to write.

In that one paragraph I realized there were probably 20 words which I didn’t know the meaning of when in 6th grade. I was a pretty smart 6th grader and I had a good 10 years of learning English with malleable neurons to aid my efforts – yet still, I wouldn’t have understood the message of that paragraph. Perhaps I shouldn’t expect such magic in learning Chinese these past 2 and a half years.

Learning Chinese is hard. I (for now) absolutely refuse to get up. So before I return to my memorization of words that claim to be “practical” Chinese – let me apologize. I am not always fair or honest with myself or others in describing my ability. I don’t know exactly where it is. Sometimes I feel capable other times I feel mute. Sometimes I am harsh on people who ask questions about my level – its not your fault – I’m sorry, I’m just trying really hard and it takes a lot of work for what is inevitably hazy progress. Good luck to me – I think I’ll need it, and I hope I will use it well.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Fireworks and Buses

I’m doing real good (well). My mind is full of thoughts and they have no place to go right now other than this page and your eyes – lets begin.

I may have begun a friendship today. I was relegated to my tutor’s place because “my” place was busy celebrating (apparently something this program doesn’t believe in). My tutor is an unassuming mildly charismatic and dignified woman in her early 40s. Its true that we we were speaking in Chinese, and that sometimes I struggled to express myself, but the line between study and conversation blurred a little, the beginning of a semi-friendship began to form, and a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I really don’t ask for much, require much, to be happy – now, with half a friend for 6,000 miles around my world became a bright and shiny place. The truth is, improvements are better than downgrades and that all it takes – I the eternal optimist.

Chinese New Year was last night.

I prefer to call it “Insanity Holiday”. Apparently more people than the current population of Earth take trains to join up with their families in the 15 days surrounding the Chinese New Year (all domestic travel within China). Its more than all of Britain’s travel for a year and blah blah blah other impressive statistics. Everyone gets together and yammers and plays mahjohnng and watches Chinese acrobats in panda suits wheel on unicycles while twirling plates on 20 foot tall sticks and singing the national anthem. Kids eat 50 pounds of sugar and adults get drunk. Then an hour before midnight a 2 hour firework bonanza rips the world to shreds.

THIS WAS INDESCRIBABLY RIDICULOUS. The city doesn’t do fireworks – individuals do. But there are no laws restricting the type of firework and no regulations on quality or safety. Earlier in the day I went with Li Zi to the firework shop and saw others buying these hundreds of dollar firework boxes. They’re the real thing, amd explode mightily sending ear crushing missiles of a thousand colors in every direction. The majority go up, but some turn over, shoot side ways, hit people, things, and cars. The streets light with fire and every car alarm in the city goes off. The noise decibel level is outrageous and the sky all around you from 5 to 500 feet is lit asunder.

I mean … there is usually distance between fireworks – these are launched from boxes standing at your feet. The people light up a cigarette take a few puffs, use it to light a few fuses, and take a few more puffs and the ground beneath them explodes. Anyway, it was pretty frigging cool and for no particular reason nobody got hurt, so that was a plus. It turns out that fireworks can bounce off of jeans – who knew? (Note: kids – do not try this at home)

A brief comment on jobs in China. I don’t understand them. I began not understanding them my last stay in China when after a torrential down pour a mob of people some clad in bright neon green vests emerged to sweep water away from objects and toward drains. They used mops and brooms and sticks with gobs of leaves encrusted on them and struck away at the clear ground pushing water toward already flooded holes. Who were these people? I wondered, who pays them, what do they do when there aren’t 40 feet of rain falling from the sky. I also tilt my head in curiosity at the “extras” at stores and buildings. Even the smallest kiosk usually has 2 people whose job it is to stand near the door. That appears to be it. They stand. They wear a uniform with the company’s insignia. How much do they earn? How did they “qualify”. My new favorite is the “middle of the bus manager”. They are nearly all obese and drifting in and out of sleep. They sit in a chair. That is it. It seems that there used to be an era in which they collected money and announced stops to the passengers. Today everyone beeps into the bus with an electronic card or places money in the electronic machine, and the programmed buses announce clearly in two languages what stops are ahead and when a stop is approaching. They sit. In my experience a bus can take in as little as 7 to 10 dollars per hour. This seemingly must pay for the bus, the maintenance, the gas, the driver, and this extra “dude”. A guy who sleeps. I have to imagine they work like 20 hour shifts of sitting around looking at people. Maybe they encourage people not to cheat the system, but how much is that worth, and how much can they possibly be getting paid. There are like 3,000,000,000,0000,000,00000,0000000000 buses in Beijing/China and every one has one of these dudes – are they middle class? Are others jealous? Just crazy is all.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

What "American" China is made of...

What a strange and crazy world.

I think I see developed upper-middle class China as a particularly bizarre phenomenon. Somehow it only seems right that if one is closer to the site of impoverished millions that it should be apparent. I am not living with royalty, and there are distinctions for my family that make the possibility of owning a car perfectly unrealistic. Despite this however, my host mother brought me along to purchase some 85 dollars worth of flowers and makes similarly unnecessary purchases on a frequent basis.

My sense of traditional Chinese family is significantly warped. This house seems a far cry from obedience, and studious solemnity. Li Zi spends weekends in front of the TV watching cartoons and week day afternoons alternating between friends houses and computer games. It isn’t that I believe that those who live in China SHOULD have less freedoms or luxuries than we do in America, but it leaves me questioning whether “the West” is all is made out to be. Part of me would be much more at home in the silence of a simple hut in a simple village with rice and several cups of tea. Walking outside only to run into a Wal-Mart, Baskin-Robbins, and Mr. Pizza shouldn’t speak poorly about China, but with a population of tens of millions – I wonder – why? What is it that these people did right that others did not? Why do they get to live in the city, and spend money frivolously? There is almost never a reason to take a taxi instead of a bus, sleep in a fancy hotel, buy expensive imported chocolates – and these are the three things that thrive above all others. It almost hurts to see that the capitalist market, the invisible hand, and free enterprise economics lend themselves to excess, waste, and gluttony.

A quick note on the importance of family. I spent the last day or so wallowing in a medium-deep pool of loneliness, and having re-emerged I have a few lessons of the moment. It is so easy to look at a family and see only the surface and think that everything is well. It seems quite true though, that only in truly getting to know the ins and out of every aspect of life of a family is the picture painted in a fair light. I don’t believe I ever spoke back to my parents, certainly (I hope) never to a point that I turned my back on them or their word. My little brother argues non-stop – but what worries me is that he wins. There isn’t much his mother can (or will) do to get her way on simple things like having him accompany him to the store. I’m extremely glad to have a family that placed such insurmountable importance on respect. I don’t know that I was aware of its presence until meeting its absence in extended form, I think its important and I’m really appreciative to have a family that prioritizes it and has made my life all the more enjoyable because of it. I think it works similarly for friends. Its easy to see two people getting along in the moment, and thinking that they’ve got it good. My friends are awesome, my friendships are unbreakable, I’ve probably upset my friends from time to time – but I love them and doubt that underneath anyone has it better than I do with my crew.

This post may have been uninteresting to some – it is more of a reflection than a story, so to keep those who are in it for the entertainment along for the ride, here are some tidbits worth knowing about China all discovered in my bewildered first week.


• All Americans have blue eyes
• Broccoli is directly translated as “Western orchid”
• In a discussion about Obama’s election my host family’s parents contributed by noting that They “…are interested in the new American President because before he had to be a slave”. They were clear on their belief that this was him – not his people
• My teacher learned from many “reputable” source that the reason that Jewish people do not eat pig is because “Long ago there was a girl in a lot of trouble, and a pig saved her and so now Jews do not eat pigs”
• It is generally known in China that American college students only go to class and go out to parties to have fun. It is expected that Americans don’t participate in any other activities or duties
• A mouse is not heavy enough to press the keys of a keyboard, but can run for more than 50 minutes straight

To all my friends – I really miss you guys, to all who read this – Thanks a ton! I’m enjoying it, I hope you are too.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Play Time!

Early to bed, Early to rise makes a man -------- able to hang out with an awesome kid and do crazy things.

Maybe that’s not how the quote goes, but we’re gonna stick with it anyway. Today offered me the opportunity for my 4.5 hours of one-on-one tutoring to stretch from 8:30 AM to 1 PM rather than 1 PM to 5:30 PM. This left with the most interesting of phenomena—an afternoon to play with.

At lunch, Li Zi my 12 year old host brother won a battle with his mom for the rights to sole possession of me for the afternoon. Its not quite clear why this family sees me as a treasured commodity. I smile a lot, talk as well as I can every time I understand whats happening, and take everything in stride, but as far as I can tell other than good humored support of whatever seems to be the activity of the moment I don’t offer all that much.

But I digress.

I neglected to mention a few other things on the list of Li Zi’s MUST HAVES. The first is the silliest computer games. In possession of ME for more than 4 hours – we raced to the bus stop to race to the MASSIVE SHOPPING MALL where we raced to the 4th floor where we raced to the waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back end where there's this massive arcade. The arcade is much like an American one with one distinct difference. About 60% of the 100 games there are these crazy things where you put in a token and pick “an opponent”. Your opponent ranges from any number of a variety of fish, to any number of a variety of dodgeball players, to any number of a variety of planes. There is one singular button with a symbol of a hand on it. Each “opponent” has a number hanging over their head that indicates both the level of their difficulty and their reward. Defeat the puny “2 Fish” and you win 2 tokens (that you can reuse) Defeat the Massive “8” Fish and hear the ka-chink of 8 fresh coins for your enjoyment. Like gambling – your bound to lose. You smash the button for all your worth until your arm is ready to fall off – then you win. You excitedly drop more coins in the machine and your exhausted arm loses to the weakest of characters.

It’s a blast.

I’ve tried to explain Li Zi’s single minded focus and energy, but you really have no idea. Li Zi has single handedly invented a system to replace the “Stand on the Right, Walk on the left” policy. Its called the “RUN UP THE MIDDLE AND HAHAHAHAHA PEOPLE WILL GET OUT OF YOUR WAY” ... system . I mean – its really effective at getting you up (or down) the escalator in 2.1 seconds but if he wasn’t so cute (and I wasn’t so skinny) it’d probably be rude or something.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when our second stop was a mouse store. We walked in and he was greeted by all the shop workers – apparently his best friends. (Have I mentioned that he like cute little mice?).

I'd like to note, that I may use Li Zi as my lens for story telling – but these are my experiences too. Through him I’m getting an entirely unique (and entirely hysterical) tour of Beijing. I plan on making it to the Great Wall, and hopefully a few other greats, but I’m also kind of in heaven racing around to play in the cold and laugh at cute mice.

I left the coolest thing ever for last.

We find this patch of ice. Its probably 45 feet by 25 feet. Its ugly and pockmarked and dirty, and it has 4 teeeeeeeeny-weeeeeny cars on it.

Unfortunately, Li Zi has spent ALL of his money being addicted to the gambling games at the arcade. He pouts at the insurmountable $1.30 charge to do whatever this tiny-car-on-ice-with-sticks thing is. I can’t help but think that its worth a little more than a buck to let him have his fun, and after all I want to be a cool big brother. I toss him the money and get a huge smile in return, he runs to buy the ticket and I laugh as he sits in the tiny car poking the sticks into the ice trying mostly in vain to push his tiny car quickly across the ice.

After something like 10 minutes of laughter I cave in and splurge another $1.30 on my own tiny car and sticks. American amusement parks have nothing on the tiny-car-with-sticks-on-ice “ride”. The nice lady standing out in the freezing cold with nothing to do stretched our 10 minutes to over an hour as we slipped, pushed, bumped, and slid across the ice with no purpose, aim, or care in the world.

I’m studying and learning and stuff to, but play time was really fun.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Make sure you forget to breathe

I have this 12 year old little brother in my homestay family. He’s a genuine miniature version of me, but more intense and his quirks and oddities are his own.

This kid is the shiz-natch, and he makes no sense at all. He loves his two adorable little mice and massive fluffy stuffed animals. He loves the taste of tasteless air sticks and tasteless orange sea creature eggs. He loves silly cartoon shows and he really really really loves his two adorable little mice.

I think he’s freaking awesome. He runs up and down the aisles of the super market at a billion miles per hour with ABSOLUTELY no regard for a thing in his way. He forgets his stuff everywhere, he is entirely focused on the moment and he seizes that moment like it is the greatest thing to happen on earth and it is entirely his. We play with the mice like 20 hours a day and he force feeds me – literally cramming things down my mouth – whatever it is that at that moment suits his fancy for him to eat. After all, if he loves it every sensible being must -- especially his smiling older brother who for the most part only understands what the heck is happening a good 10 minutes later.

He yammers incessantly, but he’s really cute and agrees with me on the fundamentals of life such as – you should run fast, ignore the cold, have fun, play all the time, and never let anyone tell you that what you enjoy is silly. Its how a kid should be.

In other news, I’m drowning in a world that has no one else like me. The thing about learning a language is that the your teacher is the single most qualified individual to understand you with your bad accent and propensity to mess up, because they know the language you are thinking in as you make mistakes. It’s a horrible false sense of security. When you go to talk to the people in the store, or worse, the people in the street – they don’t really have the, time patience, or frame of reference to understand what the heck your saying – On your side of the equation, you lack something as well -- ability – and that makes it hard to understand them when they tell you they don’t quite understand … It’s a process that starts at the bottom and goes down hill from there.

There’s nobody to speak English to … you know? Hardly a chance to breathe. My options are to nervously speak Chinese and deal with being utterly confused on a frequent basis, or to hide in my room and bask in the glory of English words on a page. Maybe I’m crazy, but that’s a little scary no? I have to encourage myself to engage in terrifying confrontations where I am nearly guaranteed to either say something other than what I mean, or be misunderstood anyway. It feels like it’d be nice just to shoot the breeze with a friend. I know and believe that its good for me though – I’m not defeated yet. We’re at day 2 and I still really really like it here.

Today Li Zi (my little brother) taught me how to say “that company went bankrupt” in Chinese, he also asked me many meters tall I was. I said 2 and he said more like 1.7 then like 10 minutes later he goes “You slouch a lot - if you straighten up you’ll be more like 1.9 maybe you really are 2 meters tall HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” I mean … my parents will totally agree with him – but I thought that was pretty daring for a kid to say – he didn’t think twice about it – probably didn’t think once . Its scary how cheap things are here I bough all the school supplies I could possibly need or want today for under 5 dollars. That included like 8 notebooks, more than 20 pens of multiple colors, a pack of cards and some banana bread. For Li Zi though – its all real money. There are these huge stuffed animals that he was literally going ballistic over running excitedly between his favorites and lamenting their price as the most unaffordable thing ever and cursing the brutal injustice of the world. They are like less than $9 – there is nothing at all he can do to stop me from getting one for him as a gift.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Fish Stomachs

You should all come to China.

Chinese people operate on an entirely different plane. I want so badly to share with you the differences, words do such a poor job, and I’m eager to avoid boring story telling.

To begin, Chinese people move into open spaces much like they are collective wad of silly putty. An open space for our purposes is an elevator, a bus, a street, a room, a hallway, or a line – its only defining characteristic is that it is the place everyone wants to go.

For the most part, everyone wants to go wherever it is that you think you want to go – you are usually wrong, but they beat you to it anyway, so after your 4th try you succeed in getting on the elevator, only to find out you were on the right floor before hand and you get to start the game all over with burning cheeks and a sense of hopelessness renewed.

The best way to put it is that China eats you. It has no room for your fears or cares or quibbles. It is a moving, breathing, mass of great force and tremendous will and you bend to it – no questions asked, no answers given.

I really like it here.

I boarded the plane and helped the 40-something Chinese woman in my row put her bag up in the uselessly-sized compartment. We got to talking in Chinese, and everything was going pretty well – we covered the basics: (dialogue below translated out of Chinese)

Evan: “Hi, how are you”

Woman: “Fine, thank you, thanks for putting my bag up”

Evan: “Are you from Beijing”

Woman: “Yes, I live an hour outside in a city called Tianjin…. You speak Chinese well…”

Evan: “No I don’t, but thank you – this is how long I’ve been studying – do you like Beijing…”

And though I’m missing a few lines, that was about where it stopped being OK. She started talking faster and it became a game of Whack-a-mole or maybe more like trying to catch flying fish with nothing but a baseball mitt. All these words kept popping up and I had to grab on to the ones that made sense and hope that when all the syllables slurred together I was still listening to something that was close to the intended meaning.

To help the conversation along I bobbed my head happily the whole time.

Bad choice.

Apparently she informed me that her reason for coming to America was that her mother was sick. I found this out because as I was picking out intelligible words from the fast-paced super-garble, she stopped suddenly, and in a slow, pronounced, caregul Chinese said “You shouldn’t nod your head if you don’t understand what someone is saying”.

I heard this, and though it didn’t make much sense why she was saying it, I dutifully nodded my head.

Bad choice.

Apparently her message was important, and I was being a dunce. She switched to a pretty good English and said “You shouldn’t nod your head if you don’t understand what someone is saying”. Resisting the urge to nod my head, I listened in English to the error I had committed by smiling and nodding when when she confided in me about her mother.

Hey … you learn from your mistakes?

Save for the fact that I didn’t sleep for any of the 13 hours, and some absolutely beautiful sunsets, dawn-breaks, and sun rises over Greenland, Antarctica, and Ulaanbaatar respectively (I like the flight map feature – its calming) the flight was only semi-eventful.

Apparently my mistake endeared this woman to me. The first moment that she stopped talking was 90 minutes into the flight. I hadn’t glanced at my watch or dared to divert my eyes for fear of committing a 2nd cultural taboo, as she switched between Chinese and English denouncing the Communist Party and her friends that support it, I heard of a whole new China, a China viewed through the lens of resentment.

The stream of high-powered emotionally-charged China critiquing had about as much order and sensibility to it as a sentence that has all its words scrambled. Without any transitions she plugged through every topic she had opinions on, assured I was enthralled and in concurrence on each. To me, it sounded like this:

Fish stomachs, Poverty in the rurals, Building those factories, and GOVERNMENT OFFICALS! Tibet – did I mention in America – oh, my friends don’t under stand and in your food, think of Tibet, so many people, the American dream! communist party and your stomach the beautiful mountains of China fish stomachs poverty Tibet mountains stomach friend AmericapovertycommunistFISH!!!!!!!!! – what is your name?

The last part I answered, TWO HOURS LATER when she finally asked. That was nearly the end, and eventually an 11 hour silence ensued.

My trip out of the airport required all 5 semesters of Chinese and all 6 weeks of China experience not to incur disaster. I enjoyed feeling like I could talk to people, but it’s a crazy world and its just plain tough to speak Chinese. I bought a phone card, figured out how to use the phone, called the program and learned that I was supposed to meet my host at “The Nine Dragons by the White Hole”. I misheard this – it was actually the Nine Dragons on the white wall – such a subtle difference, but it makes people look at you funny when your asking for white holes that don’t exist.

I went to various information desks asking for the nine dragons by the white hole – one finally figured out that it didn’t matter if there was no such thing as a white hole, 9 dragons are 9 dragons and so I learned I had to get on a bus to get to the place with 9 dragons.

I took a bus. An intra-airport bus. For 30 minutes (China does BIG quite well). Then I took an elevator 6 floors within the 3rd terminal and found some dragons – No contact person. I found another phone called another contact and got the whole 9 dragons story all over again. Right before I hung up – I realized it they were saying something about a wall and caught site of something light colored and marble-looking in the distance. An hour and a half after landing – all was well.

My host family is awesome. The dad is traveling far away for work. The 12 year old boy is totally awesome, super cute, and really friendly – I think I have a new Chinese best bud. The internet doesn’t work. My family knows no English. I haven’t eaten. I’m sort of exhausted, but sort of high on the trip, and high on the country. I love China – you should really come visit … its an experience like no other.