Snapshots

Lyndsey’s Strange but True Sightings:

1. I have officially seen six people pee on the street now. That, plus fact that spitting everywhere is acceptable, means the five second rule definitely does NOT apply to China. If it falls on the ground, leave it. It’s not worth it, man.
2. I have now seen my fair share of Land Rovers and Jeeps cruising through the city. I have no idea why on earth someone from Beijing would feel the need to buy that kind of car. No Hummer sightings yet, but I’m still hoping.
3. My apartment building doesn’t have a 4th or 14th floor. That’s because the word for “four” sounds the same as the word for “death,” so the number four is considered unlucky.
   If someone is getting married, you don’t give them pears. The word for “pear” sounds like the word for “divorce.” Similarly, you never give an older person a watch or a clock. The phrase “to give a clock” has the same pronunciation for the phrase “to prepare a funeral.”
4. Out of all of the fast food companies that have based themselves in China, KFC has had the most success. For some reason, it has been able to adapt its menu to Chinese tastes, and so draw a bigger audience than other fast food chains. You can order things like egg tarts, Peking duck wraps, and fried chicken with Chinese spices. For this reason, KFC is everywhere. No, seriously. It seems that every block boasts its own Kendeji. Everyone loves KFC, especially children. For this reason, it shouldn’t be surprising that one in every four Chinese children is obese.

I know I have a wide range of readers who are in tune with this blog. Some of you may not know what it’s like to live abroad, or perhaps even travel outside the country. Others may be interested in studying abroad or leaving the US, but may be unsure what to expect. With this in mind, I thought it might be useful to describe one of my past, average weekends. By catching a small glimpse of my daily life in Beijing, maybe you can see what it’s like to live in a different environment and culture and how, after a while, you yourself become part of it. So, without further adieu, take a glimpse of what it’s like to be one of Beijing’s many “expats” (expatriots):

Friday:

Friday is always a fun day because I get out of class around noon. With most of the day free, it’s a great opportunity to explore Beijing or go to some sort of event. After meeting with my Chinese tutor, I went to a nearby café to power through the weekend’s homework and kill time. Once early evening hit, I went back to campus and met up with a friend, Elise, and the two of us went to see a Peking opera. We hopped in a cab and drove to Beijing’s Poly theatre across town in order to see a performance titled Romance of the West Chamber.

Romance of the West Chamber is by far one of the more famous Peking operas performed. It is an extremely old opera since it is an adaptation off of a classical Yuan Dynasty piece of literature. In the story, the daughter of a wealthy family falls in love with the poor scholar employed by her father. With the help of a crafty maid, the two fall in love and have a secret romance without their parents’ approval. However, soon the mother discovers their relationship. Because the two have had premarital relations, she agrees to let them marry, but only if the scholar passes the service exams. The scholar is forced to travel to Beijing, and the daughter has to stay behind waiting for him to return. The play is regarded as a romantic comedy and is known as the “lovers’ Bible.” While it has been generally popular with younger people, many also see it as improper and lewd. And, of course, the story is in sharp contrast with filial piety, which is a no-no.

For those of you who don’t know, Peking opera is nothing at all like Western opera. The sound is completely different. While Western opera has long, lengthy arias, Peking opera sounds much more nasal and high-pitched. The style of singing also more closely resembles chanting than what many would call music. As for the acting, Peking opera relies more on facial expressions and exaggerated body movements. The actors’ movement is especially interesting, since they have learned to walk in a way that almost makes them seem like they are floating. The costumes are almost always very elaborate, and of course there is the famous face painting. Usually each opera has very stereotypical characters (ie: the profound scholar, the corrupt king, the beautiful maiden, etc.) and each has a unique face-paint pattern. By looking at how their face is painted, you can immediately tell what character they represent. Each style of face is different, but usually all have a white base and red or pink flushed eyes. This version of Dream of the West Chamber was a little less traditional. Instead of having a small band of musicians with traditional Chinese instruments, there was a pit orchestra. The stage was also elaborately done, which is unusual since usually there are very little props or scenery. In this case, the whole floor was glass and you could see flowers trapped underneath. Also, like most Peking operas, it was loooooong. Two and a half hours with no intermission and desperately trying to read the Chinese subtitles flashing on a screen can result in a major headache, but also a great cultural experience.

Saturday:

Every day when I walk to my home stay, I see something strange. I live next to high rise apartment complexes and the largest mall in all of Asia, yet tucked away amongst the buildings is a small Buddhist temple. Finally curiosity got the better of me and Saturday morning I decided to go in and explore. After talking with the caretakers, I found out the temple was actually around 400 years old, which explains why the government hasn’t been able to demolish it and use the extremely valuable property to build another apartment building. I was allowed to explore the whole area, talking with the incense sellers and guards along the way. I was given a crash course on the history of the temple, the backgrounds of all of the gods represented inside, and the nature of Buddhism in general. The most fascinating building was a small temple full of sixty medium-sized statues. In China, years are traditionally represented in lunar years, and sixty lunar years is considered one life cycle. So, each statue represented a god presiding over a specific year in the sixty lunar year cycle. Once you go through all sixty, you go back to the first god and start over. In essence, each year has a god watching over it, and if that specific god happened to also preside over the year you were born, you can pray to him for luck and protection. One of the caretakers was nice enough to explain all of this to me and show me to my personal god, the one who took care of 1988. I have to say, I rather liked him. He had a really cool blue armored suit, a very respectable mustache, and held a dragon in his arms. You wouldn’t want to mess with my god.

After the visit, I met back up with Elise, stopped and had one of the new Christmas-flavored coffees at the nearby Starbucks, and saw the new 007 movie…for the third time. Hey, don’t criticize me for needing just a small taste of America.

For the rest of the day, I spent time browsing around the Lama Temple area. The Lama Temple is the second most famous temple in all of Beijing, the Temple of Heaven being the first. Unfortunately, I arrived too late and the temple was closed, but that didn’t stop me from exploring the area. Lama Street (yes, the street right by the Lama Temple), is a great place to cruise around. Because the Lama Temple belongs to Tibetan Buddhism, the whole street is lined with small little Buddhist stores. You can buy incense, prayer beads, statues, idols, candles, spirit money, etc. There are also lots of handcrafts and art stores, and some neat clothing stores as well. I like the area because it’s a good break from the ethnic homogeny you usually see in Beijing. Something I really miss about the US is the fact that when you walk down the street, you will usually see people of all kinds of ethnic backgrounds. In China, big cities especially, you primarily see Han Chinese. Because of the proximity of the Lama Temple, the Lama Street and neighboring hutong (traditional, old Chinese courtyard homes) areas are filled with Tibetans.
One of my favorite games to play in China is the “Check it out!” game. The rules are simple: if you see something relatively interesting, no matter how random or strange, you stop immediately, swerve over, and go see it. When I was cruising down Lama Street, I saw this potentially interesting looking ally. I walked down, rounded the corner, and saw this shop tucked away in a corner. I didn’t know what it was, but it had a big ying yang on it and I could read the words “feng shui.” I tried talking to the store owner to find out what it was, but unfortunately I couldn’t understand much. I took the store’s card, and when I arrived back home later that night I had my host family help me translate. Turns out it’s a name-giving store. The owner will help you choose a name for your company, product, child, etc. that has good feng shui and will bring you success and luck. Such stores can be very popular, although I was warned that you have to make sure you find one that is actually authentic. My former Chinese teacher’s parents actually went to such a store. The owner told them that she lacked the element wood in her body, and so they gave her a name that used the character “lin,” which has two radicals symbolizing wood.

Also while at Lama Street, I stopped into a potentially interesting store. It sold a special type of dried caterpillar used in traditional medicine. The caterpillar is especially rare and can only be found in cold, mountainous areas in Tibet. While I refrained from buying any caterpillars, I did have a great time sitting and chatting with the two owners. Both were from Tibet, but had moved to Beijing for jobs. I mostly talked to them about Chinese New Year and how they celebrated it; they asked me about Christmas. As we sipped tea, they recommended that I stay at the hostel close their store for New Year’s. They were friends with the owner, and the hostel was located in the hutong area. Since it was in a more local location, it would be a great place to see the holiday celebrations. I think I’ll follow their suggestion.

Sunday:

Sundays are usually my work days, which usually means I have a 12-hour period of solid productivity. Unfortunately, it also means that my day is usually very, very boring. I decided to mix it up a bit and make my Sunday more eventful, and so I went to Beijing’s Beihai Park to do my studying. Beihai Park is without a doubt one of Beijing’s most scenic spots. Located not too far away from the Forbidden City, the Park hosts a small lake, a large Buddhist white pagoda and other temple structures, large ponds full of golden carp and koi fish, and beautiful woods and greenery. Sunday was a great day to go since the park wasn’t too crowded. Although, of course, the cold weather might have also had something to do with it. A lot of Chinese dislike the cold because it is bad for your health. I’ve been told many times by my host family to always wear slippers in the house since walking on the cold linoleum floor can make me sick.

One of the most impressive aspects of China’s parks is that they’re always being used. Whenever I’m home, I always become so depressed when I pass the local parks and don’t see a soul in them. I know that especially in my home town, you never see anyone using the park facilities, making the whole place just seem sad and lonely. In China, the parks are always used and full of activity. Public exercise machines line the sidewalks, couples walk their dogs and chat, elderly groups meet to practice tai chi, breathing exercises, or traditional dance, and younger couples go on dates or bring their children to socialize. Point being, parks are always bustling with a healthy amount of activity, and on Sunday Beihai Park was no exception. I ran across a ballroom dance class and watched older couples tango and waltz across the old cobblestone lanes; groups of friends had taken over small pagoda pavilions to play cards, practice their singing (some even brought portable karaoke machines), or form mini-string quartets consisting of traditional Chinese instruments. There were also a handful of calligraphy artists practicing their handwriting. I always love watching the calligraphy artists. They use large brushes, which are often four feet tall, and write on the sidewalks. No, it’s not a case of vandalism. They use water instead of ink, so after a couple of minutes their scripts evaporate off the pavement. Other places in the park boasted more lively affairs, such as an adult choir complete with a small accompanying orchestra.

In the end, I spent the whole day at Beihai Park. I hopped from one scenic spot to the next studying, reading, and practicing my vocabulary for Monday’s quiz. Of course I also explored the park itself, too, and took the opportunity to visit many of the temple facilities and explore the park’s caves. The caves were fascinating. They weren’t too big and only were probably 20-30 yards long, but they were absolutely beautiful. Before they had been used as part of the Buddhist temple facilities, so as you descended you could see all sorts of carvings and paintings etched into the stone. There were also tons of small statues and idols of gods stationed protectively amongst the crags and grottos. I had a great time, especially since the caves made me feel oddly nostalgic. When I was little, I always imagined having my own secret cave full of treasures and ancient carvings. Exploring the caves of Beihai made me feel like I was walking through one of the fantasy games I created as a child, since the caves looked exactly like those I had visualized when playing with friends. How strange that I should actually find what I had imagined years later in China.

Well, you can only take so much nature in one day, and after a while I decided it was time to find a new spot. I decided to go to Houhai, an area right behind Beihai Park. So far this semester I’ve deliberately avoided the area. While the area is beautiful (it lines parallel to a river feeding into Beihai’s lake) and certainly worth seeing, many Chinese tease that all you see there is foreigners. Since the whole area is pretty much lined with cafes and bars, it really is no surprise that Houhai is so popular with tourists. I rather despise tourist-heavy areas in Beijing since I find them to be very showy, overpriced, and fake, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to take a look at Houhai and see what the big fuss was.

I really was pleasantly surprised in Houhai. While the streets parallel to the river literally were nothing but bars and coffee shops, the lanes behind them were full of fun, funky shops. They were still a bit overpriced, but that didn’t stop me from walking away with some very artsy, new clothes. I also discovered that around the area is a huge hutong district, meaning that when you turned down the alleys you got to see some of Beijing’s oldest, most traditional homes. My favorite part of the visit, though, was making friends with Guo Shujun, a local artist working in Houhai.


My encounter with Guo was completely spontaneous and a result of the “Check it out!” game. While walking down a street in Houhai, I noticed a rather interesting little shop nudged between two Western-style bars. To be honest, the place was so small I wouldn’t have even noticed it if I hadn’t seen two women walking out beforehand. The door was set back into the building, meaning you had to walk down a little ally about five feet long before you actually got to the entrance, and overall the entire storefront was no bigger than a closet. It looked a little out of place, especially since on the left was a big poster advocating “NFL Sundays!!” and on the right was a large picture of a sombrero and the Chivas whiskey logo. I figured it was worth a shot, and walked into the little store. The whole store was probably the size of a classroom. In one corner was a rather discombobulated desk covered with scrap pieces of cloth and a sewing machine, and the rest of the store was lined with everyday piece of clothing. However, on each article was a beautiful picture or design of some sort. They were stunning – pairs of jeans sporting large, elaborate phoenixes, blouses with red and blue dragons swirling around the sleeves, what would otherwise be plain dresses covered in murals of peacocks and flowers, etc. When the store owner, a gentleman in his late 50s shuffled out to greet me, he told me that he was an artist and had hand painted everything himself. We quickly hit it off, and he invited me to sit and have some tea. We chatted for a bit about current events, my life in Beijing and back home, and his work (yes, all in Chinese!) and in the end we ended up swapping cell phone numbers. I promised that after returning back to Beijing from winter break, I would bring back a ton of my old clothes for him to paint.

Well, that was my weekend. I hope it gives you a glimpse of what life can be like here once you get settled in. Just because you’re not in your home country doesn’t mean you still can’t make it your home.

In case you haven’t noticed, my updates are going to be a little more sporadic in the next coming weeks. The semester is quickly coming to a close, which means...yes, you guessed it…FINALS. Woohoo. Next week I literally have a test or a paper due every day. So, until things start to calm down a bit I’m going to have to take a break from the blog so I can, well, study. However, please stay tuned! Until next time.

Hail to the Chief

Lyndsey’s Strange but True Sightings:

1. After the Olympics ended, all of Beijing’s street vendors came back. Most of these vendors sell fruit, snacks, maybe some odds and ends like socks and seat covers. Not too long ago I saw one selling goldfish and baby turtles. During a weekend trip I also saw one selling puppies.
2. I ate a chicken head.
3. Let’s talk about touchie feelie. Generally speaking, the older generations are very distant in terms of physical contact, but the younger generations are certainly not. It’s very for women to walk down the street linking arms or holding hands, and guys seem to be more open with each other as well in terms of dancing and hugging. As an American, this was very strange for me to see. After all, in the US if you saw people acting that way, you would assume they were a homosexual couple. Not so here. The concept of “personal space bubble” and displays of friendship are different here. However, this doesn’t seem to apply to relationships between different sexes. Now, I have seen some couples all…over…each other, but when I’ve talked to some younger Chinese people, they’ve told me they wouldn’t consider kissing their boyfriend until maybe three months into the relationship. Interesting…

During the spring 2008 semester, I remember sitting in a dorm room at Carnegie Mellon, friends huddled around biology text books strewn all over the floor, listening vaguely to the presidential primary debates sounding through the TV. While trying to study, it suddenly occurred to me that this would be my first year voting. However, there was one slight problem. When everyone would be casting their ballots, I would be in China, an ocean away from any voting booth. What could I do? I feel very strongly about voting and so wanted to make sure my voice was heard, especially since this was my first opportunity to raise it. Thankfully, the US lets foreigners and soldiers abroad vote through an absentee ballot system. By contacting my state representative and filling out specific forms, I was mailed a ballot, which I then returned to Indiana. Although I was relieved that my study abroad experience didn’t interfere with what I consider to be an American duty, I will admit the whole process was very strange. As the months rolled by, it really struck me how eerily quiet everything was. I heard no TV advertisements, no media hype, no red-faced reporters screaming and bickering about who was better: Obama or McCain. It was just me and my other students discussing amongst ourselves over oolong tea and dumplings and reading online coverage. However, despite the more peaceful environment, as November approached, we could all feel the anxiety and all of our focus turned towards Election Day.

November 4th was on a Wednesday, which is everyone’s favorite day here in the IES program. There’s no Chinese class on Wednesdays, so we have the whole morning free and don’t have to wake up at the normal early hour, which is usually around 6:30 or 7:00. However, this week no one slept in. Instead, we all huddled into the small IES library and, as we loaded our systems with coffee, dumplings, and what the Chinese claim to be orange juice, watched a live streaming of the election results from CNN.com. That’s right. Thousands of miles away (and technically, in the future), I watched the election the same time as all of you. I saw Indiana do the unthinkable and turn blue; I saw McCain bow out of the elections for good; I saw Obama’s speech to the people after it was declared he would be our next president. I witnessed the first African-American become a US president, a turning point in American history, and I did it all from China.

When I returned home that night, I was surprised to see my host parents watching the tail end of China’s coverage of the election. I didn’t expect them to be so involved in the results, but I soon found out otherwise. They told me that, in fact, they were very concerned with the American presidential election since the results would not only affect Chinese-American relations, but world politics as well. Upon some further inquiring, though, I think my host parents’ attitude is an exception, not the norm. Coverage of the American election has been relatively small, and the Chinese seem to know little about McCain or Obama. Considering the knowledge the average American has on foreign politics, though, I’m in no position to criticize. However, what I found to be particularly interesting was China’s depiction of the elections, particularly the election results, in the media.

Between my own observations and a discussion with one of my teachers, I realized China took a very politically oriented approach in handling the US elections. Relatively little coverage was given to the race itself prior to November 4th. The only newspaper articles my teacher ever encountered were a couple of editorials that popped up every once in a while concerning Obama. In these articles, it was said subtly, but very clearly, that should Obama win, it was by no means an indicator of American democracy at work. After all, Obama’s half white, meaning (a) Americans wouldn’t really be electing a minority and (b) in the end, he was just another product of the capitalist regime. During the actual election, coverage given to Obama was pitifully little. About 20 seconds of TV time were dedicated to the main points of his speech, but strangely enough, quite a bit of time was spent reflecting on the 2004 elections. Coincidence? I think not.

Here I should I explain a bit about Chinese media. All media is controlled by the government. Newspapers, magazines, TV shows and news channels, everything has to report to the CCP in one form or another. The only slight exception is the Internet, but that is only because it’s so difficult to handle and the government hasn’t exactly been able to properly manage it yet. There have been a lot of improvements in Chinese media and it’s not just a government mouthpiece any more. The government no longer directly funds media organizations; instead these companies have to find their own funds or use private industries to support them financially. While this is a step towards following the West’s example, the government’s role in media control is still strong, something that was evident in the US political elections coverage. But if you’re like me, you may wonder, “What’s the point? Why the slanted coverage on the US elections?” Well, think about this: when do you think China will elect its first Uyghur, Mongolian, or Tibetan president? How might these minority groups react if they were to be told that, yes, America did in fact elect a minority member as its next leader? What might that do to the CCP and its legitimacy, especially since their relationship with certain minority groups is shaky enough? And what kind of message might it send to the average Chinese, especially the up and coming youth, about the Western multi-party, democratic system? After all, if you really do regard Obama as a minority, might that indicate that, yes, the American dream really does work and truly anyone can become president? How might people react to that, especially since in China if you want to advance politically you absolutely have to be a CCP party member and adhere to party ideology? In the eyes of the CCP, a party that has sole control over China’s government, the possible “what ifs” left in the wake of America’s 2008 elections are better left unanswered. The best way to ensure this situation is, of course, to make sure the questions themselves never arise in the minds of the people. This is where the media comes in.

Now, I know as a foreigner I don’t understand everything about the media situation, but I’ve seen my fair share. When visiting an exhibit on the Sichuan earthquake, there were very few photos or facts given to document the actual destructive damage of the earthquake itself and the effect it had and continues to have on people living in effective areas. Instead, it only showed People’s Liberation Army soldiers rescuing refugees from the rubble and political officials posing with refugees. Coincidence? I think not. There is also a reason why every Chinese person you talk to says they only rely on the Internet for their news coverage. I’ve been told more than once that I shouldn’t read newspapers or watch TV news broadcasts while I’m here because I won’t be receiving accurate information. I guess the point is, when in China listen to everything with a touch of salt.

Rules of the Road

Lyndsey’s Strange-but-true Sightings:

1. I have tried a plethora of new, weird foods: pig feet, pig ear, pig face (technically, slices from the cheek), spicy duck neck/throat, and duck intestine.
2. I am convinced the TV show “Ugly Betty” is slowly taking over the world. It started off as a Spanish comedy/soap opera and became so popular that America created its own version. Not too long ago I turned on the TV and started flipping channels (there’s not much I understand, so I do a lot of flipping) and started to tune into one of China’s many, many, many soap operas. The more and more I watched, I started to think, hey…this looks strangely like “Ugly Betty.” After some internet snooping I discovered, sure enough, China has launched its own version of the TV show. Go figure.
3. When some friends and I were going to see a movie, we had to pass through a wee bit sketchy hutong (old fashioned courtyard-style Chinese houses) district. In one of the alleys, I spotted a man with an outdoor grill cooking meat kabobs. The weird part? Not only was he using the grill, he was also using a hairdryer. Yup. Picture a guy, in the middle of the night, hunched over a couple of burning coals and kabobs and frantically waving a hairdryer. Yea, your guess is as good as mine on that one.
4. I’ve quickly learned that coffee has quite a different value to the Chinese than it does to Americans. For Americans, coffee is to the brain as jumper cables are to a dead car battery. It’s liquid productivity with a frothy foam on top, and the morning is going to be hell unless you pump your system full of the slow roasted power juice. The Chinese, on the other hand see coffee as a luxury drink, kind of like how Americans see hot chocolate. It’s not essential, but it tastes good and so they’ll buy it every once in a while. This mentality is perfectly manifested in the Chinese Starbucks. Xingbake, as it’s known here, doesn’t quite carry the same significance in China as it does back home. Every day I have to pass by one on the way to school, and every morning it’s never open. Want to guess when they finally start serving? 10:00 AM. Yes, you heard me right. TEN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING. Now, Indiana isn’t exactly the business hub, but even still the Starbucks there open around 6:00/6:30 and I almost always see people waiting to get in before the building is even unlocked. When I tried to imagine what would happen if an American Starbucks decided not to open until 10:00 AM, this is what I visualized: An angry, caffeine-deprived mob of tailored suit-wearing businessmen clawing at the windows and screaming as they try to break the glass with their briefcases. A stretch of the imagination? No, no not really.
5. One day I came home early and as I was putting my stuff down in my room, I heard my grandmother shout, “Xiao Gao, Xiao Gao! Lai lai lai lai lai!!!” (“Lyndsey, Lyndsey! Come here! Come here! Come here!). So, I shuffled my way into the kitchen and there was my grandma, giving me a big smile, holding a toothbrush in one hand and waving a live crab in the other. “Look what we’re having for dinner tonight!” Um, wow, it’s so…alive. When I moved closer I saw our entire sink was full of distraught, skittering crabs. Just when I was trying to figure out where the toothbrush entered in this picture, my grandma turned on the water and began scrubbing all the crabs…with the toothbrush. “I need to clean them.” But you don’t eat the shell. “Do you want to be served a dirty crab?” Touché, grandma. After chasing after the few that managed to climb out of the sink and make a dash for freedom, all the crabs were promptly thrown into a steamer, and 20 minutes later served on the table. They were delicious, but I’ll admit it was a little weird eating something I had just seen scurrying around on the counter.

I’m going to have to rush this blog entry since three big things are coming up: 1) Today at 5:00 I leave to go on a “mobile classroom” long-weekend field trip to Pingyao, an ancient Chinese city. 2) Midterms are going to hit full force next week. 3) Did you really think I’d forget about Halloween? Psh, as if. In any case, I know it’ll be busy, so I wanted to give you all something even if it’s fast. I don’t have enough time to go into China’s minority issue today, so instead I’ll talk a bit about the traffic here in Beijing. Again, this has been a rush post so excuse any grammar or spelling errors.

I’ll admit it, the Olympics spoiled me. In an effort to clean up (literally), its image a new, temporarily law was passed in Beijing. To give environment a power-boost, the city’s traffic would be cut in half. On odd numbered days cars with a license plate ending in an odd number were allowed to be on the road, even numbered days were reserved for cars with even numbered license plates. Anyone who drove on the wrong day would get a hefty fine. It caused a lot of bickering and grumbling among the Beijingers, but it was paradise for a foreigner. The streets were eerily quiet, the cars never got into traffic jams, and taking busses was a breeze. For those of you who have Facebook, you can find a picture of me online posing in the middle of a street, just because I could. By the time I came back from the Silk Road trip, the Olympic fanfare was long gone and the monster that is Beijing traffic came back in full force.
When I mentioned earlier that by the end of the year I’d be the human equivalent of “Frogger,” I meant it. Crossing the road in Beijing can be a life or death scenario. I found this out the first day I tried to go to school after the Silk Road trip. I turned on my iPod, meandered my way out of the apartment, stepped off the curb, and almost got plastered by two cars. Needless to say, pedestrians do NOT have the right-of-way here in China. Those white stripes on the road and the flashing crossing signals are viewed as nothing more than street décor, and if you are in the way, the cars will NOT stop. They’ll turn right into you, and wait until the front bumper is within maybe four inches of your shin before they slam on the brakes and honk like mad (yes, I know this from experience). U-turns happen just about anywhere, too. In the center of a four-way crossing, in the middle of a road…if there’s enough room, it’s all good. What does this mean for the helpless pedestrian? It means even if you manage to dodge death the first time, the same car can quickly swing around and try to kill you again (again, I know this from experience). Oh, and let’s talk about the horns. Have you ever met someone that swears so much that after a while, profanity just doesn’t seem to carry any meaning or shock at all anymore? That’s what horns are like in China. Honking is done so much and for such menial reasons that it’s nothing but background noise. Usually, the honking is directed at the pedestrians. Sometimes, it has a purpose. My life has been saved a couple of times because someone honked out a warning call that death was near unless I hustled NOW. Other times, and for that matter, most times, I fail to see the point. If you are within three feet of the curb and have even the potential of crossing the road, you will get honked at. No joke, once I was standing perfectly still at a corner, maybe a good 3-4 feet away from the curb, when traffic suddenly picked up. I had no intention of crossing, but as I looked into traffic I made eye contact with a driver. He could clearly see I wasn’t going anywhere, yet just when he was starting to pass me there he went, slamming on the horn. Now, by that point unless I had launched myself in the air Superman-style, there was no possible way I was going to get hit. That’s Beijing traffic for you. So, how does one survive? I’ve developed two amazing tactics which should allow you to survive. 1) Only go halfway. Don’t be macho and try to sprint across the entire street. Wait for a gap in traffic and sprint for the dividing line. After perching there for a while (and getting honked at continuously), find another gap and make it the rest of the way. 2) When they go, you go. A good strategy is to find yourself a sturdy looking Chinese person and stick to them like glue. Essentially, mooch off of their traffic dodging skills and let them do the work for you. And hey, if you still get hit, at least you’ll have the satisfaction of making a bigger dent in the car.

Now let’s move on to public transportation. Back in Pittsburgh, I’m a public bus junkie. I take them everywhere and find them to be very convenient. Not so now. Beijing busses are the bane of my existence. When the Olympics were still going on, I thought they were great and decided not to buy a bicycle. Bad choice. Once the traffic came back, the busses became a nightmare. First of all, there is no regularity. The busses come when the spirit moves them, not according to a fixed schedule. I’ve seen three busses of the same line arrive at a stop all at once, and never appear again. I have to take two to get to school. To get to my first stop is easy because I can take one of five different busses. To get to my second stop, however, is horrible. I have to take #394, which, for all of my CMU friends, makes the Pittsburgh 59U on a Sunday look heavenly. Worse still, when I have to use the busses always coincides with Beijing rush hour. At rush hour not only are the streets packed with every sort of vehicle, but also the busses are packed full of people. It makes a sardine can look spacious. I’ve seen busses get so packed that limbs are sticking out of the doors and windows. And, unfortunately, I’ve been in such busses. The amazing thing is the Chinese have figured out a way to still facilitate movement inside the bus itself. The way the busses work is that there is one door you enter and one door you exit. If you want to get off, you have to get to the other side. This usually involves a lot of squeezing, wiggling, shoving, and pushing to get to the other side. I’ve even seen people use the hand bars like monkey bars and climb over seats in order to make it. At first I was a bit timid and was afraid to be so forceful, but then I realized how awful it is to miss your stop. Bus stops in China aren’t the same as they are in the US. I know in Pittsburgh if you miss your stop, it’s no big deal because you can just walk back one or two blocks and everything is fine. Not so in Beijing. You miss your stop, you’re looking at a good 15 minute hike at least. Not fun, especially when you’re trying to get to school on time. So when your stop is coming up, forget your manners and MOVE. I am a little ashamed to say once I had to take out an old man, but hey, he had it comin’. I was polite at first. I said “excuse me,” made eye contact, gently tapped him on the shoulder, made it clear I needed to get off the bus…no go. Well, fine then. You asked for it, buddy. I wedged my arms between him and the next person and opened up my arm span in a jaws-of-life motion, thereby plastering the two people against the windows and creating a nice, lovely open path. I made it to the door just in time. Another time I was a little too ambitious with my bolt towards the door and my plan backfired on me. I managed to perch myself in what I thought was the optimal spot, right on the stairs between the door and the railing. I had forgotten that the doors don’t open out like a door in a building; instead they fold in, like a screen. So, the door hit me on my right side and slid between me and my backpack. That shoved me over and caused the railing to slip between me and my backpack on my left side. I was trapped. Two Chinese men had to pull me out, and I managed to pop out of my public-transport-prison just in time to squeeze between the doors and fall face-flat onto my stop.

Pictures should be coming soon, guys! For those of you with Facebook, you can check out all of the albums I’ve created. For those of you that are Facebook deprived, I promise I’ll post a link soon. Until next time!

The Voyager Returns (Late...)!

好久不见 (Long time no see)! Ok, I know I’m WAY overdue with updating the blog, so let me attempt to give a plausible excuse: when I got back from the Silk Road trip, I was just too exhausted to write about all that I had done. Once I got a breather and was ready to type, I got pounded by school work: a 300 character essay, a Chinese test, a 15 minute Chinese presentation, a history paper, research, and government and Chinese quizzes. Oh yea, and homework.

So, without further adieu, THE MAGNIFICENTLY AWESOME SILK ROAD TRIP:

For those of you who don’t know, the Silk Road is not a “road” per se, but rather is a very ancient and extensive network of trade routes that stretches across Asia and into regions as far as Europe and Africa. These routes would be used by pilgrims, monks, travelers, and especially traders to travel all across the world. Trade was the primary purpose of the Silk Road, and it was one of the key ways silk, precious gems, and other goods were transferred from China to the Mediterranean region. Due to the high volume of trade that passed over this area, many of the ancient great civilizations (i.e.: Rome, Egypt, Byzantium, India, and, yes, China) owe their prosperity in part to this route. Not surprisingly, the road itself is HUGE; it extends over 5,000 miles.

While it would be impossible to travel over the entirety of the Silk Road in just 10 days (especially since the road doesn’t just lie in China), we did visit some of the most prominent spots. I’ll give you all a highlight of each stop, the adventures I had there, and some of the more bizarre moments I experienced (not surprisingly, there are many…):

First stop: Xian:

Well, it wouldn’t be a worthwhile visit to Xian if we didn’t see the immensely famous Terracotta Warriors. I had had the opportunity to see the warriors in 2002 when I traveled to China with my family, so I wasn’t as excited as some of the other students. Nevertheless, I absolutely loved seeing them again. First of all, you really have to admire how bad ass Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi was. It takes a lot of balls to order people to make over 8,000 clay soldiers, not to mention horses and chariots as well, just for your grave. It’s even more overwhelming to realize that every warrior’s face is different, each is life-size, and that back in the day they were also painted.

By far my favorite activity in Beijing was biking on top of the ancient city wall. Back when Xian was the capital city of China, the wall marked the city’s borders. Now, of course, the city has expanded considerably, but the wall still remains. It’s shaped like a bit square and is about 8 miles long in total. I both dreaded and looked forward to biking along the wall. On one hand, it sounded extremely fun, but on the other hand, I don’t think I’ve ridden a bike seriously since I was 8 years old. Plus, it’s an ancient wall, meaning there would be cobblestones and potholes everywhere. Relax, I told myself, just enjoy the ride, don’t push yourself too hard, don’t worry about keeping up with the others; just have nice easy ride and enjoy the scenery. And that’s exactly what I did…at first. About halfway along the first leg of the square I stopped to have a water break and take some photos, but soon afterwards I continued riding. Now, have you ever been driving and noticed that a particular car stays with you for a while, or perhaps seems to be going the same place you are? Well, pretty soon I noticed a man riding fairly close to me. He was middle aged, a bit overweight, and clearly a businessman – if he had had a jacket on, he would have been wearing a suit. I took no notice of him, but after a while I noticed something strange. Whenever I got close to him, he’d glance at me sharply, huff and puff, and speed ahead a bit. Gradually he’d drift back, see me again, and the process would continue. I wondered why the guy was acting so strangely when suddenly the light bulb went off. There I was, a little white girl from the US who obviously couldn’t ride a bike too well, keeping up with an older Chinese man, who probably rode bikes quite often. He didn’t want to lose face to me. “Saving face” is a really big part of Chinese culture, and is also a little hard for foreigners to understand. Essentially it means that a person never looks embarrassed, especially in public. Now, the open-minded, culturally sensitive side of me should have backed off and let the man ride away. Unfortunately, there’s also a very competitive side to me and when it is sufficiently prodded, it gets vicious. So instead, my reaction was something along the lines of, OH HELLS NO, CHINAMAN! IT IS ON! BRING IT!!! From then on out, it was a race. I knew it and he knew it. I was determined not to let him win and to never let him get more than two bike lengths ahead of me. To keep the motivation going, I went into “Culver crew mode” – I envisioned Mr. Weaser screaming at me and had my coxin, Ellie Cook, yelling for “power tens.” By the last leg of the square, we were both peddling as hard and as fast as we could. I whizzed past all of the students who had been the first to race off on their bikes and, to my great chagrin, creamed my Chinese competitor. However, my victory was short live. My body, and I mean my ENTIRE body, caved in. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a sensation like that before. It’s like it wasn’t even mine anymore. I couldn’t move, I could just barely dismount my bike, and I felt like I was going to be sick. Well, I had just raced 8-miles, so I guess that’s to be expected. So much for my easy ride.

That night I somehow summoned the energy to go out for a bit. First we went to a fountain show, which didn’t go quite as planned. Right when it was getting good, a fight erupted right in front of me. I have no idea how it started or why, but before I knew it these two couples were clawing and grabbing and rolling on the ground. Really, it was a pansy fight – no one really made any serious move against the other – but I still had no desire to get caught in the middle. As I climbed up onto a platform, I saw the small daughter of one of the fighters start to drift towards the conflict. Before she could move another inch, I swooped out and grabbed her. Hey, who says I can’t be maternal? When it was all over with, the father – his shirt nothing but shreds – snatched the girl, gave me a quick thank you, and stormed off.

Next, I went to a nightclub with some of the other students. It was called 1 + 1 and it was…interesting. We had a great time dancing and soaking up the rather peculiar Chinese nightlife culture. Dancing was especially interesting. Apparently in China the hip way to dance is to dance as if you just came out of an *NSYNC music video. No, I’m not joking. We watched in stunned silence as a pack of young Chinese men busted out their awkward, suspiciously choreographed, and unbelievably cheesy moves. For those of you who are less familiar with the darkness that is America’s Boy Band Era, I suggest watching a snippet from this *NSYNC music video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pYAPisHsck&feature=related. It’s a little painful to watch, but at least you’ll understand what I’m talking about. Something else that caught our attention was the club’s go-go girls. When they first came on stage, I took one look at them and thought, well crap, this place has strippers. Thankfully the clothes, though skimpy, stayed on. Instead, they did this sort of…posing thing-a-ma-jig. They just sort of froofed and pranced around to pop songs and then skipped off stage, only to return an hour later with a different act. My particular favorite was the first act. After all, nothing quite says “authoritarian government” quite like four go-go girls in tight, pleather and lace police bikinis posing with machine guns pointed at the audience. King’s to you, China.

Second stop – Xining and Qinghai Lake

By this point, the urban, modern cities were long gone. From then on out, we would start to rough it. The Qinghai province proved to be quite different than what we were expecting. It was full of low sandy mountains and brush covered ground and all in all sort of resembles a colder and a bit greener version of Arizona. After visiting Qinghai Lake, we spent the night in a nearby hotel. The best part was at night. Since we were all freezing, we were thrilled to hear that at 8:30 there would be a bonfire. It turned out to not just be a bonfire, but rather a whole cultural performance. We saw Tibetan singers and dancers perform onstage, and on the spur of the moment we decided to showcase our culture as well. One of the students brought a guitar and sang for a bit, and some others (myself included) hoped onstage and danced. Soon it became a free-for-all and we were all dancing on stage and around the fire. I learned some traditional dances; we taught them the Cotton Eyed Joe line dance and the Electric Slide.

The next day we traveled to the other side of the lake to stay a night with a Tibetan home stay. All 25 of us stayed in a large, traditional Tibetan courtyard home that was absolutely beautiful. The head of the family was an artist who specialized in making Buddhist thangka (pronounced “tanka”) paintings. They were beautiful, elaborate religious images painted onto wall scrolls that apparently took months to make. He was a very famous thangka painter, and monks traveled from all over the province to buy his art. My favorite part of the house was their security system, which consisted of a small, fluffy white dog that lived permanently on the roof. No, it was not a pet. It was not played with or coddled; its job was to guard the house and sound the alarm if anything unusual happened. Needless to say it went crazy when we arrived. When I went out to brush my teeth at night, it would follow me along the rooftop, barking like mad.

Third stop – Dun Huang

I woke up on the overnight train to see that the landscape had completely changed. Instead of the rolling mountain range and flat ground, I saw sand dunes and desert. Actually, it was the Gobi Desert. For several hours that day, the Gobi became our playground. We went to an amusement park-like area, which was appropriately nicknamed “Dun Huang Disneyland,” and had a fantastic time. I sledded down the dunes on a bamboo toboggan, rode a camel, and even took a hang glider and flew over the desert. That night we all went to a night market, which was a series of food and trinket stands that only opened after 6:00. Of course I bought all kinds of goodies. We also visited Mogao Caves, which consisted of over 492 temples carved into the rock. Each housed Buddhist artwork that spanned over 1,000 years. There were beautiful statues, elaborate paintings, and all kinds of altars and shrines. Each was incredibly intricate and beautiful. The Mogao Caves is also home to one of the oldest pieces of literature of the world - a scroll dating back to 400 BC that is an original source for all kinds of Taoist, Buddhist, and Confucian works. What stole the show, though, was the most famous cave which housed the third largest Buddha in the world. It was HUGE. Unfortunately, since it was a holy site no pictures were allowed, so you’ll just have to trust me when I say the thing was amazing.

Fourth stop – Turpan

Turpan was a busy stop for us. First we visited the Flaming Mountains, a series of mountains famous for its role in the classic Chinese tale “Journey to the West.” To summarize the story, the Monkey King climbs to heaven and causes all sorts of mischief with the gods, upon which he is cast out of heaven and thrown into a mountain. The entire mountain is set on fire in the process, hence the name “Flaming Mountains.” After that unfortunate incident, the Monkey King has to live inside the mountain for 500 years until a Buddhist priest releases him. From then on, the Monkey King serves as the monk’s guide. The story sounds really interesting, but the mountain drew my attention far more than the legend did. It was so beautiful. It was a cyan red color and with the way that the rock was structured it looked like cascading water. Of course we had to climb it. Oh my Lord was it difficult. I don’t think I’ve ever climbed something so steep in my entire life, and the ground turned out to be packed sand, not rock. So, as you climbed upwards, the ground would always give out and you would sink or slide down. In the end, we couldn’t make it to the top, but the view was still fantastic and we all felt it was worth it.

Next we went to Jiaohe City, one of the oldest clay cities surviving in the world. I felt like I had walked into “Star Wars” and landed on Tatooine. Without a doubt, Obiwan was going to pop out any moment, wave his hands around, and chant, “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for…” No Jedis showed, but we saw all kinds of amazing sights. It was incredible to think that a city with a history of 2,000 years could still be standing, especially since it was only made out of dirt and clay.

Fifth stop – Kanas

After Turpan we had to do a lot of travelling. We flew to Altai, drove to Bur’jin, and then first thing the next morning we took a 6 hour bus drive to Kanas. Kanas was GORGEOUS. I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. It didn’t look like anything I thought China would be like. In fact, it more closely resembled Colorado than anything else. There were tall mountains with big snowy peaks, a huge lake (Kanas Lake) that was so clear and blue some of the students foolishly though it was dyed, and big forests full of birch trees turning orange and yellow. We climbed one of the smaller mountain peaks by the lake, which wasn’t so bad since a bus took us two thirds of the way up. At the top, if I looked to my left I could see Kazakhstan, and if I looked to my right I could see Mongolia and Russia. The hike down was painful. There was no bus this time, and we had to go down a never ending staircase. By the time we FINALLY reached the bottom, all of our legs were spasming.

Sixth stop – Hemu

We spent the longest time in Hemu, meaning we got a great feel for the village and the people who lived there. In order to get there from Kanas, we rode horses….for six hours. I loved it. I lucked out and got a fantastic horse, one that wasn’t your stereotypical broken trail pony. She loved to go fast, but unfortunately our guide was determined to make sure that the Americans didn’t do anything stupid and get themselves hurt. I’ve seen plenty of people act like idiots on horses so I understand where he was coming from, but the land was beautiful and we were in CHINA for crying out loud. Live a little! So, when he wasn’t looking, some of us “accidentally” lost control and galloped off. My God it was so much fun. Really there’s nothing better than racing on horseback across the fields of China belting John Denver’s “Country Roads” at the top of your lungs.

Hemu, although small, was a really fascinating little place and was definitely one of my favorite spots on the whole trip. The village is so ethnically diverse – besides Han Chinese (the largest ethnic group in all of China), there are also Mongolians, Kazaks, Tuvans, Hui Muslims, and Uyghurs. I really loved getting to know the native people. One day we were able to have a dinner in a Tuvan home. We all ate delicious food, drank the famous naijiu (milk alcohol), and even got to see the family members showcase the local music by singing Mongolian, Kazak, and Tuvan ballads and playing guitar. Since they had never heard American music before, we responded by singing “Lean on Me.” Another day we got to have a soccer match with a bunch of Tuvan schoolchildren. We did lose 0-1, but it was a tough match and both sides definitely bent the rules of soccer. Yes, we’re all cheaters. A funny moment was when the school tested their sound system by blasting an old record of the PRC’s national anthem. Let me tell you, there’s nothing more symbolic than a bunch of American teenagers and Chinese minority children running around with the CCP’s anthem chiming in the background. There was also an amazingly cool Uyghur family that owned a bread and meat store that we all loved. When I visited them, they danced with me, served me naicha (milk tea), sang, and also let me have some of their bread. BEST BREAD IN THE WORLD. Some students got to actually help them bake a bit, and others went dancing with them late at night. Want to know how much they liked us? They slaughtered two goats for us. Yea.

My second day in Hemu we had a really cool project. We had to go out and interview one of the townspeople and ask them about their life. I set off with a small group and found an elderly store owner. He was extremely kind and let us come in out of the cold and sit in his home/shop. We learned so much about him. When he was around 20 years old, the Cultural Revolution relocated him from Southern China to Hemu village. Can you imagine having to go from the South, which is known for its hot humid weather, to freezing Hemu? He told us about tourism in the village, what he thought of it, and his life in general. He also tried to sell us his wife’s hat, for some reason.

After the project we had tons of free time, so I decided to go off and explore. Although my body was still sore from the previous day’s ride, I decided it would be best to rent a horse again. When I explained that no, the slight rain and sleet didn’t bother me, and no, I did not want a guide, I got some really strange looks. After some fancy footwork, I managed to convince the owner to let me rent a horse and go off by myself without a guide. Two strategies proved to work in my favor. One, apparently Indiana is known in China to be nothing but rolling farmland, so the Chinese assume all Hoosiers are expert riders. Second, I told a little white lie and claimed I had been riding for 10 consecutive years. Actually I’ve only been riding horses for six years, and I haven’t ridden since my freshman year in high school. In any case, I rode out of town and followed the road along the river and towards the mountains. Eventually I decided to be more adventurous and steer off the path and go through the woods. Now, on further reflection, that was a bit stupid. My cell phone was practically dead, and my sense of direction is limited to reading maps; I suck at recognizing landmarks. So riding through a forest where all of the trees look the same? Erm…whoops. Don’t worry, nothing happened :). I rode through the woods and over a big, steep hill to find an open grassy plain on the other side. There were several cows pasturing and I even saw a big eagle hunting among the grass. As the fog cleared, I saw a series of maybe eight houses perched on top of another hill. I was curious, so I decided to ride up and explore a bit. As soon as I rode through the gate and hopped off my horse, I was greeted by a Kazak woman. She said I could rest a while and took me into her home. There I met four other women – three elderly and one other that was middle aged. I discovered only one could speak Mandarin, but they still wanted me to sit down at their table and chat and eat. I had some naicha and asked them about their life and talked a bit about mine. I was the first American they had ever seen. I spent quite a while there, but eventually I had to leave. I didn’t want to get stranded in the woods in the dark. So I said my goodbyes and gave each of the two younger women a ring that I had been wearing to say thank you. The experience was really moving. I couldn’t believe how generous they were. After all, they certainly were far from rich, yet they had welcomed a random stranger into their home and let me have some of their food. It also gave me a great insight into the local life. Plus, I’d like to think I taught them a bit about where I come from, too.

The next day my body was really sore, but I went riding one more time. I knew I’d never return to Hemu again, so I might as well destroy my body and live a little. Stiles, my RA, and I each took a horse and went riding. We explored some of the plateaus and hills, raced along the river, and chatted with some of the Chinese tourists that were visiting the area. They thought we were quite the photo opportunity. After all, there’s nothing quite as stereotypical as the “American cowboy,” and two white girls galloping along on horseback sort of meets that image.

Seventh stop – Bur’jin

To get back to Beijing, we had to return to Altai, a major city in the Xinjiang province. However, we still had some stops along the way to make the journey interesting. We revisited Bur’jin and spent some more time there. The highlight was the night market. I got to try a fanfare of local food, including roasted dogfish and sheep intestine/stomach lining/sweet meat soup. Both were delicious.

Eighth stop – Urumqi

We were all happy we got to revisit Urumqi and spend a full day there. Urumqi is the capital of the Xinjiang province and the city seems more Middle Eastern than Chinese. It is also heavily populated by Uyghurs, giving it the ethnic diversity that I really miss seeing in the USA. Uyghurs don’t look like Han Chinese at all. They’re usually tall, the women are very slender, and they have hazelnut or toffee skin. Their eyes are round, not really almond, and dark brown. They also have thick dark brown hair and softer faces. All in all, they resemble Arabs. All of us spent the entire day at the city’s Grand Bazaar, a large city square with all kinds of markets and stores. The place was riddled with pomegranate vendors, and I got a bottle of freshly squeezed juice for only 5 yuan. That’s roughly 70 cents. Compare that with the price of America’s POM company juice, and you’ll realize why I was so happy. There were also lots of traditional medicine stands, which were fascinating to look at. I saw reindeer horn shavings, dried lizards and snakes, fruits, nuts, spices, gourds, dried hedgehogs, antlers, dried flowers…it was amazing. The bazaar also had some performances going, so we got to watch drummers, dancers, and even a tightrope walker.

Ninth stop – Altai

We really didn’t visit Altai, but the airport experience is definitely worth mentioning. When we were in Urumqi, we found several stands selling small, ornate knives that were absolutely beautiful. Several students bought them and I ended up purchasing one too. Now, we all put them in our CHECKED bags. CHECKED. So there we all were at the front desk giving the attendants our baggage with plenty of time to spare; we had arrived almost two hours early. I watched Alex send his bag through with four knives inside. No problems. I watched Stiles send her bag through with two knives inside. No problems. When it was my turn, the man watching the bags on the scanning screen went off duty and a complete hard ass took his spot. As I walked away from the counter I heard a strong, “Miss, do you have a KNIFE in your bag?” I turned around and saw this man staring sternly at me, my duffle bag lying on a table. I answered honestly, upon which I was told, “Ma’am, I have to right to confiscate ALL knives. You have to take it out and leave it here.” Pardon? But, but, but…two of my friends went through with knives in their bags and there were no problems. “Well, I wasn’t here and I didn’t catch them. You have to take it out.” But, but, but...it’s in my checked bag. I can’t stab someone if it’s in my checked bag. It shouldn’t be a problem. “I have the right to take your knife, miss. Now take it out.” Fine. So I made a big show of pretending to take the knife out of the bag, only to slip it further into my t-shirt bundle. No go. Two seconds later my bag was back on the table. “Ma’am, you still have the knife in the bag. Take it out. Now.” That’s when my teacher got involved. Liu Laoshi tried to plead my case with me, and between the two of us we shouted, whined, and begged the best we could, but the man was like a brick wall. “I HAVE THE RIGHT TO TAKE ALL KNIVES AND THAT’S FINAL.” I finally realized there was no hope so I gave in and took out the knife (I should also note that it wasn’t even as big as a Bic pen. It's not like I was trying to smuggle in a Machete). But that was just the beginning of our troubles. From then on out, he checked every…single…suitcase, whether or not they had a knife. He dumped out students’ bags, shuffled through their toiletries, confiscated one of my teacher’s alarm clocks because it “could be bomb material,” and even tried to snatch a student’s camera battery charger (“It’s suspicious!!!”). It was completely ridiculous, and before long all of us, students and teachers alike, were screaming bloody murder and swearing profusely. The man continued to move like a snail, even though at this point we had only five minutes before our plane boarded. One of my teachers, Liu Laoshi, who normally is the most adorable, cute woman you'll ever meet, got so verbal that the man had to declare, “WOMAN I DO HAVE THE RIGHT TO ARREST YOU!!!” I should also note that all of this was in Chinese, which made the whole thing even more dramatic. After giving up a host of small daggers, we were finally able to sprint through security and make it to our gate.

We were lucky; our flight was to be delayed for two hours due to China’s space launch. In the Gansu province, a rocket was launched carrying four Chinese astronauts. Any plane that was scheduled to fly over the province was grounded until after the launch was done. We got to watch the takeoff on TV, and two days later I was able to see China’s first spacewalk with my host family.

I know this blog entry has been incredibly long, but really this is just the surface of all that I experienced on the Silk Road trip. I saw so much of China, and I don’t just mean in a geographic sense. I saw people who were technically “Chinese,” but who were completely different ethnic and culture wise. I saw some of China’s most pressing social issues play out in real life experiences, and sometimes I even felt them myself firsthand. I saw amazing topography that changed day by day. Literally one day I’d be in a frost laden forest and the next day I’d wake up on the train and discover a desert outside my window. Overall, I realized just how BIG China really is and how much I still don’t know about the country or its people. It’s true my understanding has increased drastically, but there is just so much out there that is still foreign to me, and I want to know more. Needless to say, it’s certainly an experience I’ll never forget.

Just so you can appreciate the extensiveness of this trip, I've included a lovely little map. The black line shows where I travelled, and the faint red dots are cities/places I visited:



Now as for something funny, this trip also showed me that I have an amazing stomach. All the students were afraid of getting the dreaded laduzi, which, sparing the graphic details, is a form of very unpleasant diarrhea that results from food bacteria. Basically, when you gotta go, you gotta go RIGHT NOW or else you'll implode. Some of the students couldn’t manage to evade it, leading to some interesting train ride experiences, but as the trip progressed I noticed I stayed untouched. I thought it was strange, so I decided to see just how much my body could take. My brilliant plan: eat as much weird, potentially hazardous stuff as possible and see what happens (I know, not the brightest idea, but I was curious…). Here are the results:

1. Eating amazingly spicy food = nothing


2. Eating about 15 different kinds of lamb meat, which sometimes were cooked in questionable styles or in sketchy areas = nothing


3. As a result of a dare, eating an entire small bowl of spice = nothing (it tasted kind of like that powder you put in ramen noodles, and I got 10 yuan as a result of my success)


4. Brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with tap water = nothing


5. Eating unwashed fruit = nothing


6. Eating unwashed fruit, the skin still on = nothing


7. Eating chuar (delicious lamb kabobs) off of a metal stick that clearly still had raw meat juice on it (yay bacteria fest!) = nothing


8. And the biggie: drinking naicha with milk that was clearly unprocessed and from the cow out back = nothing

Conclusion? LYNDSEY HAS A G.I. TRACK OF STEEL! OH BABY OH BABY!!!

And as for some final updates, first I’ll let you know that soon I’ll start talking more in depth about Chinese culture, not just about my personal experience. I expect my next blog entry to be about minorities, followed by one concerning traffic and changes in Beijing after the Olympics, and another about China’s immigration problem (yes, there is one, and you’ll never guess who the immigrants are). If there is a specific issue you’d like to know about, tell me and I’ll do the research (don’t worry, Alyssa, I’m still trying to find out more about the gymnastics scandal). Also, I should let you all know that I’ll be staying with IES Beijing next semester. The program is just so good, and the city is so amazing that I’ve decided to stick around for a bit longer.

Until next time!

Picture time!

That's right! I've now added some photos onto a Flickr webpage for your viewing pleasure. I have TONS of pictures, so I just chose my favorites to upload. You can find the link to the online album on the right-hand side of the blog. Just click on "China Photos - the first edition" under "Snapshots and Whatnots" and then click on the first picture.

Pulse? Check. Breathing signs? Check. Overall survival? Affirmative.

Attention readers! I’d like to draw your attention to a slight change the blog’s format. I’ve come across so many oddities while here in China, and some of them are just too good to ignore. Sometimes these are physical sightings, sometimes they’re weird conversations, sometimes they’re just odd facts and whatnots. Regardless, I have to pass them on. Thus, I’ve decided to add something to each blog post: “Lyndsey’s Strange-but-true Sightings.” And for our first edition…

Lyndsey’s Strange-but-true Sightings:

1. I’ve discovered that all sorts of strange things can be seen when people walk their pets. Today I saw a woman walking a black cocker spaniel….and the dog was wearing SHOES. Not kidding, it really had slippers on its feet. This past weekend I saw something equally strange: a woman walking a rabbit. Or rather, dragging a rabbit on a leash. Apparently rabbits aren’t very good at keeping up and are rather obstinate.
2. The seafood section of Beijing’s Sam’s Club. This is one of my Ayi’s favorite grocery stores, and when she invited me to go with her one day I gladly accepted. You can learn all sorts of new vocabulary at grocery stores. As I shuffled from aisle to aisle trying to discern certain characters, I eventually found the gold mine – the seafood section. In short, I was mesmerized. There were tanks upon tanks upon tanks off all sorts of sea creatures, including sea cucumbers, turtles, crabs, lobsters, about a dozen different kinds of fish, and shrimp (unfortunately, they were not lucky enough to have tanks, but instead were forced to lie out in the open twitching and squirming). How do you buy a live fish from Sam’s Club, you ask? It’s fascinating. Step 1) Call over an assistant. Step 2) Point to the fish you want and have the assistant scoop it out with the net. Step 4) Have the assistant hold the net up high and then with every force in his/her body, slam the fish onto the stone floor. Repeat several times. 5) Hold out a plastic bag and slip the now thoroughly brain-dead fish inside. Who knew Sam’s Club could hold such cultural wonders?
3. This is more of a funny language story than anything else, but still deserves to be noted. “Qing wen” is a very common phrase used by everyone, and is a favorite of foreigners. Since “qing” means “please,” and “wen,” when said with a tone going from high to low, means “to ask,” this phrase has the connotation of “excuse me.” Usually you say it to ask someone a question (ie: “Excuse me, could you tell me where…?”). Now, if you say “wen” in the tone going from up to down to up, however, it means “to kiss.” So, this extremely useful phrase holds innumerable potential dangers for a foreigner since if you say it in the wrong tones, you’re asking someone to kiss you, not to ask for help. UNBELIEVABLY HUGE AND VERY FRIGHTENING DIFFERENCE.
4. At a grocery store, I saw the following in a snack isle: bags of spicy squid and packages of chicken feet.
5. This afternoon I passed a hair salon and saw something incredibly odd. All of the hair stylists in their fuchsia, 60's reminiscent uniforms were lined up outside their store, blasting music, and doing some form of synchronized YMCA dancing. I have absolutely no idea why. I asked some other native gawkers, and they were just as clueless as I. Either that was an absolutely spectacular means of advertisement, or perhaps the strangest public act I've ever seen.
6. My Chinese name is Gao Lingxi, so my parents call me Shao Gao. “Shao” means little, and is a title given to those younger than you as a means of endearment. What I didn’t know, however, was the meaning of my Chinese last name. “Gao” means “tall.” I’m overjoyed. Me, the stubbiest, shortest one of all my friends and nearly all of my family, am at last TALL. I’m so happy I could cry.

This week has been extremely busy and one of survival since it marks the first week of class and, more importantly, the first week of living with my host family. All in all, I couldn’t have asked for a better family. I have five family members: an Ayi (aunt) named Yang Xu, a Shushu (uncle) named Zeng Bo, their son and my didi (little brother), who is eight years old and named Zeng Tian Yu, although everyone calls him Yang Yang, a grandmother (she’s actually Shushu’s mother’s sister) named Xiao Yin, and a goldfish. Together, they create the perfect environment to get to know more about Chinese culture. Since I have three generations in my family, my family is considered to be very traditional by Chinese standards, which is perfect for a foreigner like me. As for work, Xiao Yin stays at home and helps clean and cook, Ayi works at a bank, and Shushu works with computer information security (Since he doesn’t work for the government, I’m guessing this has something to do with firewalls). I also suspect they’re in some sort of fruit juice black market, since three days ago they bought a ton of boxes of apple and orange juice from a neighbor and have been steadily selling them from the apartment. This deserves further investigation later and may make it into the “strange-but-true” section. Together all of us live in a fairly large apartment on the eighth floor. There is a living and dining room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, two bathrooms and a reading room which has now been converted into my bedroom. The apartment building is just one of many in a very beautiful residential complex. It’s a gated community, and all the apartment buildings overlook a small park in the center. The park is really lovely. There are all sorts of public exercise machines, which people use regularly in the wee hours of the morning, fountains, small ponds, little pagodas, and statues. There are always people walking inside it and I almost always see people doing tai chi in the mornings, old men playing Chinese chess in the afternoons, and several families and their children playing in the evenings. My family gets up extremely early in the morning (as in late 5:00-ish), but they still provide me breakfast and we always eat dinner together. I’ll write more about Chinese food later, but I should mention something important about my family’s cooking styles. My aunt is originally from Sichuan, and my uncle and Xiao Yin are originally from Hunan. What are these two providences famous for? SPICY SPICY FOOD. So, every night for dinner at least two dishes make my eyes water. One night I had to sneak back to my room and smother my mouth with peanut butter because my tongue was on fire. The food is delicious and although I’m not a big spicy fan, I love dinners. I’m just going to have to gradually build up a tolerance and get myself to finally realize that those long green strands are peppers, NOT green beans.

My family is a priceless resource for learning Chinese. They all have just the right language levels to make my language abilities grow at a rather alarming rate ("We can rebuild her...make her better, faster, stronger..."). Yang Yang is learning English, so I get to help him with his homework and he can teach me some new elementary-level words. Ayi and Shushu speak Chinese and are also fairly competent with English, so if I’m forced to speak a bit of English they usually understand me. Together we speak a type of Chinglish pidgin language. I’ll speak in as much Chinese as possible with maybe one or two words in English and they’ll do the same back to me. Sometimes they’ll also do the reverse, speaking English with one or two words of Chinese, so that they can try to gradually improve their English speaking abilities. All in all, I serve as an informal English tutor, and they serve as my Chinese tutors. Xiao Yin, on the other hand, speaks no English, so with her I get to try to speak exclusively in Chinese and learn strategies to make it past the language barrier. So far I haven’t been able to get very far with the goldfish, but oh well. Thanks to all of them, my vocabulary is exploding. For example, last weekend Ayi, Shushu, Yang Yang and I all went to the Summer Palace. It was a gorgeous day, making it the perfect time to go. As we meandered through the park and gazed at the beautiful temples, buildings, and scenery, we bonded by teaching each other words. Together, we all learned the words for “magpie,” “willow,” “ginkgo,” “mulberry,” “river,” “lake,” “dragonfly,” “butterfly,” and, my personal favorite, “cicada.” I also taught them the phrase “to spend time” and they taught me the phrase “ren shan ren hai,” which is the equivalent to English’s “a sea of people.” I’ve found myself saying this a lot when I take the bus to school every day. I’ll elaborate more on traffic later, since that in itself could be an entire blog entry.

I do have to admit, though, things have been a little nerve-racking for me. Of course there was some initial awkwardness when my family and I first met (especially when they insisted on carrying my heavy luggage) that we’re still trying to get over a bit. Although they insist that I’m now a family member, I’m still trying to work past some of their perceptions that regard me as a guest. I essentially have to fight to carry my dishes into the kitchen and I’m still not allowed to wash anything. I’m going to have to work on this, since I really want to be able to help around the house. There’s also the burden of being their first exchange student. With Magdalena, my Spanish host mother, I was the ninth student so she knew all of the basics – talk slowly, use small words, explain cultural differences, suggest activities for the weekends, introduce family members and local hangouts, etc. With my Chinese family, I have to explain these points to them myself. I’m still trying to get them to realize that when they speak to me in Chinese, the reason I sometimes don’t understand is because they’re speaking too fast, not because I can’t translate, so it’s not an excuse to break out into full-blown English. Plus, being the first one is an enormous pressure for me. If I screw up, does that mean they’ll never want another foreign student to stay with them again? Overall, though, these fears and difficulties have been small, and our time together has been getting more and more amazing.

Class has also proved to be excellent. I have four classes: a Chinese history class, a government and politics class, a modern culture and research class, and, of course, my intermediate-level Chinese class. The Chinese class is taught exclusively in Chinese. That, combined with IES’s language pledge, which forces me to only speak Chinese when on campus and in the classroom), is also helping me learn Chinese a lot. My culture classes, though, are taught in English. I have government once a week for three hours, history and culture twice a week for an hour and a half, and Chinese four times a week for three hours. Now, studying abroad does not equal a year of vacation, or even easy schooling, for that matter. Far from it. My work load is enormous. I learn about 40-80 new words (not including the new words I learn from my family) and about 20 new sentence patterns every two days – one day of introduction, one day of in-class practice. Think that’s fast-paced? Students in the 400 level Chinese classes learn over 100 words every day. IMPOSSIBLE. The culture classes are not picnics either. My final project for the culture class is a 12-20 page final paper on my own organized research project that utilizes about 50 interviews, and the other two classes have their own essays, tests, and reading assignments. In short, Spain was a cake walk compared to this. But never fear! My teachers are amazing and extremely enthusiastic in class. I love their teaching styles and every class is always interesting. In addition, I meet with a private tutor four times every week. Her name is Mung Chun, and our sessions always last for one hour. So far we’ve used it as a means of practicing my Chinese conversation skills.

One more thing before I end this rather long post: I want to conclude with a forecast of some skills I should be incredibly good at when I return to the US, and should be extremely interesting for all of you to watch:

1. Using chopsticks – Since Ayi said I was already very good at using them and demanded to know how I had learned to eat with them (thank you sooooo much, Laura), I’m going to be crazy good by the end of the semester. ‘Nuff said.
2. Speaking Chinese – Well, I had better be able to, otherwise I’m going to be super mad. Although for some reason, everyone already insists that I speak great Chinese. Usually the pattern is as follows: someone sees me on the street, realizes I’m foreign, and yells, “HALLOOOOOOOO!” (aka their version of “Hello”), to which I always reply “Nihao!” Suddenly the light bulb goes off. “Oooooooooooooooh. Can you speak Chinese?” “Dui, yidiar. Wo shi liuxuesheng.” “NI DE ZHONGWEN HEN HAO!! FEICHANG FEICHANG HAO!!!” (Translation: You’re Chinese is VERRY good.) When this happened the first time, I thought to myself, Who, me? Me with my whopping one year of Chinese? Ha, surely you jest, stranger. And then it kept happening. All I could think of was, what’s wrong with these people? Are they not hearing my horrendous Chinese? I could tell that they weren’t making fun of me, so I had no way to explain their behavior. Finally, after about the 150th time of this type of experience plus with some guidance from my teachers I realized two things. One, the percentage of foreigners who come to China and can speak Chinese at any level is a very, very small percentage. Even if you are only at the most basic level and can only say a handful of words other than “nihao,” you are sure to impress. If you can actually put a sentence together, you’re a genuine novelty and sometimes even draw a crowd. Two, the Chinese are just extremely friendly and warm and are always so grateful whenever they see someone learning their language. Even when it’s bad, any level of understanding is greatly appreciated.
3. Dodging cars – I am starting to become the human equivalent of Frogger, but if you don’t hear from me in a couple of weeks, assume I’ve been hit by some form of motorized vehicle.
4. Pushing – There are no lines in China. If you want to buy something, see something, or get off the bus, you PUSH. There is no other option. None.
5. Charades, Pictionary, and some relevant parts of "Cranium" –It’s mind-boggling how far hand waving, doodling, and making funny sounds can go. My family is already beginning to learn there is a clicky, humming noise I make when I don’t know a word and have to dive for my pocket dictionary, and as a result they wait patiently. In addition, I think I’ve successfully imitated every Olympic sport with my hands alone.

Well that’s all for now. I know this was a long post, but there’s a reason for that. You won’t be hearing from me for a while since next week I leave to go explore the Silk Road for about fifteen days. Yea, be excited. By the end of my trip, I’ll have travelled so far north that I’ll be closer to Berlin than I will be to Beijing (I believe our final destination is right by the border between China, Mongolia, and Russia). So stay tuned for many exciting stories! I’ve also had some requests for pictures, so that’ll be coming soon too.


Until next time!

Look out, China, here comes the waiguoren

Well, as I'm sure you've guessed, I have indeed made it to China. I wish I could say the trip was easy, that I enjoyed a nice, peaceful flight from the Land of Mickey D's to the Middle Kingdom, but alas, I cannot. In order to become more in touch with Chinese culture, I decided to dive into the tradition of filial piety early and honored my family's timeless tradition of horrible airport luck. On further reflection, I should have realized what was coming. A window seat, a vacant middle seat for extra legroom, and no screaming children behind me? Far too good to be true. As the plane took off I gazed longingly out my window and mentally called out, "Good bye, my homeland! You have been good to me, but now I must leave you and explore the Orient. Take care! I shall miss you!" It all seemed very dramatic to me, and I sort of fantasized myself as being some sort of American Evita ("Don't cry for me, Argentina!") as I was brought my first bag of stale pretzels. Well, at least I did until my plane turned around somewhere over Wisconsin. Yes, that's right. Turned around. I'm still not entirely clear exactly what was wrong since I was listening to my iPod, but I gathered something about improper air circulation over engine parts, a fire alarm going off somewhere, and concern about the plane's safety. For some reason they also decided to leak fuel out of the plane on purpose via the wings, which to this day still doesn't make any sense to me. In any case, an hour and a half later I found myself sitting in the airport again, cast unwillingly back into the mother land. So much for my dramatic exit.

We were lucky that there was another 747 in Chicago that was free for us to use. We were unlucky, though, that it wouldn't be leaving for another five hours. What does that mean? It means that instead of landing in Beijing at 3:00 PM, I would instead arrive at 12:30 AM. Lovely. Now, I want to note right here that during this time I absolutely 100% did call IES, my study abroad program, and notified them concerning my change in flight information so that they could have someone waiting for me at the airport. Given my family history of gross airport disasters, though, do you think that information was successfully passed along? Of course not. So, there I was, luggage in hand, in the Beijing airport with no one, NO ONE waiting for me. Thankfully, I had an emergency contact number in hand and, after some more phone calls, learned what to do. I found out there were more students on my plane, so I found them and we all took cabs to Bei Wai (Beijing Foreign Studies University). By the time I finally stumbled into my room ready for bed, it was 3:00 AM.

Despite a shaky start, my first week here in China has been rather smooth. Right now I'm finishing up my orientation week, so there hasn't been much free time yet, which is probably a good thing since it doesn't allow me time to stop and have a famous Lyndsey freak out session. There have been a TON of meetings concerning every topic under the sun (traveling in China, safety, homestay guidelines, culture differences, history run-downs, etc.), but all have been very useful. I've also had some spare moments, which I've used to explore a bit of the surrounding areas around the university.

Bei Wai is a beautiful campus with lots of greenery, but it's split in half. I am currently staying in a dorm on the west side, but across a major street there's an east side with more academic buildings. To get from one side to the other, you walk through an underground passageway that goes under the road. Beyond the east side there are quite a few shops, a grocery store, and lots of small restaurants. Right now there aren't many food vendors or cars around to dodge thanks to the government's clean-up program in preparation for the Olympics, but they should all be back by mid October. I've done quite a bit of exploring in the small shopping area by Bei Wai, and while I'll spare you all of the details I'll tell you about the most interesting things I've seen and noticed:


When in the grocery store, I decided to check out the seafood section just to see if I'd see something strange but true. I did. Nestled right between the jellyfish and the squid was a medium-sized box of big, brown pupa. And they were still alive. Have you ever seen jumping beans? They reminded me of those. Every once in a while they'd jump and twitch. It was very, very strange. And why were they in the seafood section?

For a quick snack, I ate barbequed squid on a stick.

I am fully convinced 98% of all of the dogs in Beijing are some form of chihuahua. Not kidding. They're everywhere.

I once saw a man walking a magpie on a leash. When my friends and I stopped to ask him about his strange pet, he proudly held his bird up and told us all about him. He declared that he had rescued it from the wild, that he often took showers with it, and that the two were best friends. The bird's name was Huahua, and he let me hold him. Now it turns out Huahua was not just any bird. Huahua was a LUCKY bird, and since I was able to hold him, the man said I would have good luck the rest of the day.

I found a small upstairs cafe called "Stairway to Love Cafe," and my friends and I just had to visit it. I mean, come on. The name sounds like it came out of a Barry White disco ballad. How could you resist? The food was actually quite good when we visited for breakfast. I had chrysanthemum tea and congee, a traditional Chinese rice porridge. Since all of us attempted to speak Chinese to the waiters, we were all given GOLD MEMBERSHIP CARDS. That's right. I'm now VIP in the Stairway to Love Cafe and can get my 12% discount any time, anywhere. All of the other IES students are very jealous, since they visited too and were not offered a card. Clearly I am going places in life.

So far the weather in Beijing has been constantly overcast and the sky is sort of in a perpetual state of gray. There are no clouds, and today I finally saw a small, hazy orange blob, which I figured out was the sun. It's hot here, but not in the sense of temperature. There isn't a lot of heat, but the constant humidity makes you feel constantly sticky and warm.


Now, the best part of my week here has by far been an activity called Mystery Beijing. For Part One, a fellow Skidmore Program student, Kor, and I were given a piece of paper with the name of a famous Beijing site written in characters on it. We were told we had to get to the site, get some sort of proof that we had been there, and return to campus by 1:00. We were not allowed to use any cabs, and we couldn't use English to ask for directions. At first we tried to use the Internet to look for a map and a translation to our site's name, but that didn't work. Finally we translated our site to “jialufa,” which ended up being a very large French supermarket. Since the internet failed us, we decided to be brave and ask for directions. Now, in China there are guards of some form or another EVERYWHERE. So, Kor and I went to some posted in the tunnel between the two halves of the university and asked for help. We explained the nature of our mission, and once they got the general picture they started spitting out directions. However, it didn't take them too long to figure out that our Chinese wasn't good enough to understand them. Now, this is a great example as to how friendly and kind the Chinese are. A Chinese guard personally escorted us out of the tunnel and across the street to an Olympics volunteer station, which was full of college students waiting to help stranded waiguoren (foreigners). They whipped out maps, drew pictures and highlighted routes, and told us the numbers of the busses we'd have to take. During that process, the guards from the passage kept coming up and checking on us to make sure we were being helped and to add their two cents to the flurry of instructions. Once that was all over with, we hopped on our bus. Or rather, we thought we did. Shortly afterwards Kor received a call on his cell phone. It was the volunteers. They had noticed we had got on the wrong bus, grabbed Sammy, Kor's friend who was also completing Mystery Beijing and happened to have been standing nearby, and used his cell phone to call us. They then told us what stop to get off of and where to walk to still make it to our site. So nice! And this wasn't an isolated incident. When talking to other groups, they spoke of people giving them their cell phone numbers and business cards in case they got lost, stopping and calling up friends and family to ask for directions when they themselves didn’t know, escorting them to subways and busses, etc. It was just amazing. The Chinese are known for their friendliness; it’s not just a result of the seven-year Olympics campaign. Well, to make a long story short, Kor and I ended up taking the most indirect rout to getting to the supermarket since we still got lost, but we did take our picture at the enterance and made it back to campus on time.

Now, Mystery Beijing Part Two was far more interesting. It just happened today, and was sort of like IES's version of The Great Race. Everyone was split into teams and we were given a clue that pointed to a famous site in Beijing. There were no rules, so we could use any means and any form of transportation necessary to get there. Once we arrived at the site, we had to find an IES representative and get our next clue that led to a different site. There were seven sites in total, and you had to get to as many as possible before you had to return to campus at 7:30 for dinner.

All in all, we only made it to three sites and didn't end up winning, but the experience was still unforgettable. I had three other people in my group and together we saw Tianamen Square, Jingshan Park, and Beihai Park. Jingshan Park was part of the imperial gardens behind the Forbidden City. It was breathtaking. We had to climb to the highest temple in the whole park, which was quite a hike, but totally worth it. We were able to see the entire Forbidden City stretched out beneath us, which was a breathtaking view. Plus, the temple was very beautiful: traditional tall red pillars, detailed, blue curving triangle roofs with painted scenery, and an 11 foot high Buddha inside. Behai Park was even more beautiful. It was right on a small lake and was composed of several small islands and shores. We had to take a ferry to get to our site, which was wonderful. It was a traditional boat full of carvings and paintings. The park itself was absolutely astounding: canals filled with lotus lilies, bit, huge temples, people practicing calligraphy, kung fu, and tai chi on the sidewalks, big, old trees and flowers, stone bridges.... Our site was a big wall with nine dragons carved on the side. The whole thing was painted, which made it look spectacular. Now, given how beautiful everything was, we spent too much time gawking and not enough time hustling from one place to the next, which prevented us from completing all seven sites and winning. Honestly, I don't care. What I saw was amazing and I wouldn't have whizzed through it for all the tea in China.

Next week looks like both a very promising and very frightening week. I'll start my classes on Monday, and tomorrow I'll meet my host family. That's right! I officially have a host family. I don't know anything about them, but from what I've learned about the host families in general they should be fantastic. I’ve also learned that I’ve gotten a spot on the Silk Road trip for my fifteen-day excursion with IES. That means I’ll be traveling up the Silk Road with my fellow Chinese students, stay with a Tibetan family for three days, spend four days in a Kazak village, ride camels and horses, see the Flaming Mountains and the third largest Buddha in the world, journey through the desert, and make it almost all the way to the China-Russia border. Also, today I took my language pledge. From here on out, no English unless absolutely necessary. I've got to admit, I'm a little scared, but I'm confident I'll make it work somehow. Wish me luck!